Campbell Oktoberfest 5K

Those of you who have known me since college can attest to the fact that there's two things I have always been good at: drinking beer and running (from the authorities). Of course, now that I am older, wiser, and slower I have wised up and renounced... Oh who I am kidding. I still love beer. And I still run every chance I get (whether from the authorities or just the local mountain lions and bobcats).

Last Saturday, October 15, I decided to sign up for a local 5K to find out just how slow I have gotten since my high school cross country days. I was never that fast at the shorter stuff in the first place (I'm more suited to the ultra-marathon distances), so I knew that this was going to be ugly. But, I figured that with some local law enforcement loitering around (eating all of the post-race food and hitting on any women who walked by) I should get that little added boost of adrenaline.

I knew I wouldn't have any chance to win (some of these 13 year old girls and 50+ year old men looked like they might be surprisingly fast). And of course, I probably looked like an idiot myself decked out in my Ed Hardy board shorts and my Vibram Five Fingers.

The starting gun went off and everyone started sprinting across the grass toward the paved bike trail. I felt like I was standing still. Everyone was passing me: little kids in basketball shorts, overweight walkers, pregnant women pushing double strollers. I quickly found myself in about 30 place. A quick glance down at my watch showed that we were running 5:45 pace, which was a bit too fast for my game plan of running 6:00 miles. Time to slow down!

Thankfully at about the .5 mile mark people started slowing down dramatically and I reeled in most of the little kids and pregnant stroller moms. But there three 50+ year old guys ahead of me (only one of which I would eventually catch).

I felt like I ran a pretty even paced race, though my Garmin stats tell a different story, with each of the three miles getting slower than the previous. Nonetheless I was reasonably satisfied with my time of 19:07 and my 9th place overall finish. Maybe I will actually do a little training (ugh, speed work) for the next local 5K in February.

2011 Quicksilver 10K -- 2nd Place

Today was the first day of my "running comeback". This morning I ran a small local race, the Quicksilver 10K., which is put on by my Quicksilver Ultra Racing team. While I didn't win, I did at least manage to come home in second place about 30 seconds back of the winner, Kevin Hunter. Granted he was an older gentleman with gray hair who I believe said he was 53. But hey, I ran in my board shorts and flip flops, so let's just call it even. LOL.

Going into the race I thought I might have a decent shot to win, considering that it was a pretty small field (and about half of the people were running the longer 1/2 marathon distance). But as soon as we started the initial climb I could tell that I was going to have company. Three of us quickly dropped the rest of the pack. It was myself, running shirtless in my Ed Hardy board shorts and my Luna sandals, Kevin Hunter (a.k.a. the fast old guy in the red shirt) who would go on to win the race, and an Asian guy (Ishijima Yoshihiro) wearing a funny bush hat -- who was actually running the longer 1/2 marathon race). We made quite the motley crew I suppose; certainly not your tyical lead pack in a road race.

I tried making a move toward the top of the first climb, but unfortunately I was only able to drop the 1/2 marathon runner. The guy in the red shit stayed within striking distance and the reeled me back in. At about 2 miles into the race we hit a steep section of single track where I always struggle. Sure enough I slowed down and both of my two competitors passed me. That was pretty much the last I would see of the guy in the red, except for occasional glimpses of the back of his shirt.

My wife Amy had given me a lot of crap when I told her I was going to race in my sandals. Which of course only further convinced me to wear them. In the end, it was probably a bit of a dumb footwear choice for such a hilly, rocky, gnarly course. But overall I thought they performed quite well. I think I probably could have closed the last 2 downhill miles faster if I had worn more conventional footwear. But I still managed to run the last two miles in the mid to low 5's, which I was pretty content with (especially considering my lack of training).

Anyway, it's time for me to go ice my heels, pop some Advil, and drink some beer.




Garmin stats.

Lake Tahoe Revisted: A Tale of Two DNFs

Well, it's been over two months since my last blog post. Not to worry though, I'm still alive. And no, I wasn't abducted my aliens or held captive by some clandestine government agency. I've just been laying low. Licking my wounds. Trying to forget about the fiasco at Lake Tahoe back in July where I dropped out of the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 after 50 miles, only half way through the race.

So let's just get this out of the way. Yes, this is the second time I've tried (and failed) to run the Tahoe Rim Trail. And yes, I did even worse the second time around, dropping at only mile 50 compared to my first attempt two years ago where I at least made it to mile 75 before wimping out. And oddly, I was actually in much better physical shape this time. So, where did it all go wrong?

I have only one person to blame. No, not myself. Come on, don't be silly! The blame rests solely on whatever idiot shoe engineer at Salomon was responsible for designing the Salomon Speed Cross 2. As much as I love the aggressive "mountain bike style" tread on the those shoes (see some of my previous posts), I finally had to concede that they just way to narrow and tight for my flat, double-wide feet.

After losing 7 toenails and developing peroneal tendonitis while racing in them, I finally tossed the shoes into the garbage where they belong. I briefly thought about donating them to some charity that provides running shoes for third-world kids, but honestly I would feel horrible if some promising young Eritrean runner lost all his toenails due to running in my crappy shoes.

OK, enough ranting about how much I hate Salomon. Back to the blog. So, after two months of hiding my head in shame I am finally ready to start running (and blogging about running) again. My feet and my pride have both healed up, and I'm starting to build my running base back up. Last week I ran 30 miles (not all at once mind you, but over the course of 7 days). That's 20 more miles than the week before. And that's 20 more miles than the month before.

But in the interest of full disclosure, I haven't been a complete couch potato. Admittedly, I had been drinking a lot of beer. And yes, I did gain 15 pounds. But, I did ran (well, "hiked") a 50K in Woodside in August which wasn't a complete failure with me managing to stumble across the line in 4th place. And I have also been doing a lot of bicycling to keep some base level of fitness and to complete from completely jumping the shark. So it could be worse.

Anyway, last weekend I decided to see just how bad of shape I was in. I signed up for a 50K race at Mt. Diablo. It was hot. And I wasn't particularly motivated. Not surprisingly, about 10 miles into the race I decided I'd had enough. But I was still up on the mountain over 5 miles away from the parking lot. So I ended up logging 15 miles for the day, which was more consecutive miles than I had run since the 50K in August.

Tomorrow morning I am thinking about racing a 10K in my "backyard" at Quicksilver park, and hopefully I can make it all the way (a full 6.2 miles) without DNF'ing. Wish me luck. Let the comeback begin. LOL.

Another 100 Miles?

The skin on the bottom of my feet still hasn't grown back yet (from the 100 mile race I did in South Dakota three weeks ago), but I'm getting ready to attempt another 100 miler this weekend in Lake Tahoe!

On Saturday, July 16 I will join a hundred or so other crazy souls as we attempt to race 100 miles through the mountains on the Tahoe Rim Trail.

While I was supremely confident going into my hundred miler in South Dakota (having no doubt in my mind that I would finish) this time around I am a bit more nervous. Perhaps it's because this course has already gotten the best of me once before when I dropped out at mile 75 two years ago. Or perhaps, more importantly, I'm worried about the fact that I'm still missing large patches of skin on the soles and heels of my feet.

In any case, I'm not feeling very cocky, or even especially confident right now. So I will spare you guys from having to read any fancy prose about the spirit of Crazy Horse carrying me on the back of his horse across the mountains (or any such other nonsense) this time around. No, I think the best I can do is muster up some half-hearted proclomation like, "I've done it before. I know I can do it again. It's time to go out there and take care of business". I guess that's better than my first idea for a motivational mantra, which was basically, "This is definitely going to suck a lot. And I'm dreading it."

Wish me luck! Those of you interested in following the race should be able to get live updates on the Webcast once the race is underway starting at 5:00 am PST (8:00 am EST) on Saturday, July 16. In case there are problems wiht the Webcast there is also a Facebook page and a Twitter stream.


On a side note, whenever I am feeling anxious, scared, worried, or utterly despondent about an upcoming race I simply watch this short video and then (after I wipe the tears of joy out of my eyes) I always feel instantly better:

Watch more videos on Flotrack

Black Hills 100 Race Report

Well... I finished! One hundred miles. (Technically I think the course was even more like 106 or 107 miles, but hey, who's counting?) The good news is that I am still alive and in possession of my first 100 mile finishers "belt buckle". Woo hoo. Yo Adrian, I did it.

Here's a link the official results. I finished 10th overall, 3rd in my age group, with a time of 29:17:46. I triumphantly shuffled across the finish line side-by-side with another runner, Randy Kottke who I hooked up with for the last 6 miles or so. I'm not sure I would have made it to the finish without the company and support of Randy and his pacer Miles. Thanks so much guys!

I'm so thankful to have finally achieved my goal of running 100 miles (even if technically I hiked almost as much as I ran). Wow, it feels great. But it definitely wasn't easy. In fact it was easily the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. There were several times, particularly during the night, alone on a dark mountain, where I questioned whether I was a complete idiot -- and whether I would ever make it to the finish line at  the Woodle field track in Sturgis.

As I stumbled along, alone on the dark mountain at 3:30 in the morning, I had quite a few interesting conversations with myself (and my various body parts). It went something like this:

Me: "John, you can do it. Just keep moving. Don't stop."
Feet: "Oh hey, a nice big, flat rock. It looks so soft and comfortable. Let's lay down and rest."
Me: "What hell are you guys doing? Get up! You can't sleep on a rock. Get up you fools!"

Legs: "We're tired. We're cramping up. We can't possibly go 30 more miles. We will never make it."
Me: "Everyone else is hurting just as bad. Nobody has passed you in hours. You're still in the top 10. You're doing great. Just keep moving."

Stomach: "Um... hey idiot, you forgot to feed me. I'm starving. Blood sugar, plummeting. Muscle glycogen, depleted. Liver glycogen, depleted. All systems shutting down."
Me: "No, no. Switch to emergency reserves! Start burning body fat. Hang in there, there's another aid station only an hour away."

Keith Straw in his Sunday finest
Image credit: Action Sports Images

Somehow, despite my exhausted, condition, I managed to win the conversation and convince my feet, legs, and stomach to all keep chugging along. I might be exhausted, but I wasn't delirious. At least my brain was still working. After all, it wasn't like I was hallucinating seeing imaginary forest creatures (elves, trolls, fairies, or goblins) bounding along the trail. And then it happened...

I heard a noise and looked behind me expecting to see a bird or a squirrel, or some other standard woodland creature. But no, there it was. A large pink fairy floating along the trail. Clearly I had been out running in the woods too long. Or maybe I shouldn't have eaten those tasty looking mushrooms that I found growing alongside the trail. Luckily, as it turned out I wasn't hallucinating or having a toxic reaction to poisonous mushrooms. It was just veteran ultra-runner Keith Straw passing along, dressed in his Sunday finest.

I had passed Keith earlier in the evening, around 9:00 pm, just around the time a few of us runners had got caught in a fierce lightening storm on top of the mountain, followed by an even fiercer hail storm on the way down the mountain. I was glad to see that he had survived the onslaught of hail and lightening on top of the mountain.

At the time of the storm, I had debated taking shelter under some trees and trying to wait out the storm. But that strategy quickly lost its appeal after about thirty seconds of sitting around in just a cold, wet tee shirt. Clearly I had to keep moving if I wanted to avoid an unwelcome visit from my old acquaintance, hypothermia. Instead I had opted to turn on the jets and throw in some 7 minute miles, racing down the mountain trying to stay a few steps ahead of the lightening strikes and grape-sized missiles of icy hail falling from the sky.

Hail on the track at the finish line
Image credit: Action Sports Images

While I like to think that I managed to outrun the storm down the mountain, I think in reality it simply blew past me on it's own. But in any case, I made it down off the mountain alive, thankful to see the poncho-clad crew huddled underneath the canopy at the next aid station. They refilled my bottles, gave me some warm chicken noodle soup, and refused to let me leave until I had stuffed my pockets with enough food (gels, bananas, and sandwiches) to carry me through the next 8 miles.

Normally I am a pretty self-sufficient runner and can get by in a 50 mile or 50K race with just a couple of drop bags. But there is no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't have finished without the help of all the wonderful aid station volunteers. They were just amazing. Each time we arrived at an aid station an aid station volunteer would already be standing there with our drop bag in their hand waiting for us. I never had to refill my own water bottles. And when I got to the point where I could no longer bare the thought of chocking down another energy gel packet they made me some delicious grilled cheese sandwiches that really hit the spot.

Aside from the lightening storm and the hail storm on the mountain, the rest of the race was pretty uneventful. It was just a matter of keeping the legs moving and slogging it out. The last 14 miles seemed like an eternity as I was basically reduced to a slow shuffle, hobbling along on my blistered feet. And then, at about 10 miles to go I felt one of the blisters pop, followed by a squishing sound, followed by burning pain. I immediately sat down on a rock, took my shoes off and went to work trying to salvage what was left of my water-logged, blistered feet.

Just then another runner, Randy Kottke and his pacer Miles caught up to me. They asked if I was OK and offered me some duct tape (to tape up my feet). I thanked them and told them to go on ahead. After a few minutes of resting on the rock and tending to my feet I felt good enough to start walking again. Occasionally I could hear Randy and Miles talking, and once and a while I would catch sight of them working their way down the switchbacks. It was a nice feeling to know that I wasn't completely alone out there. I was definitely feeling better and did my best to try and catch up to those guys.

I finally caught up with Randy and Miles just before the last aid station with 6 miles to go. We agreed to stick together and work as a team to try and see if we could cover the last 6 miles in under two hours. I'm not sure if we did make it back in less than 2 hours or not, but to be honest I didn't care. I was just happy to have some company. Honestly, I think that without those guys, I might have just sat down on a rock somewhere and taken a nap for a couple of hours. Anyway, there were definitely a couple of tears in my eyes when the finish line finally came into sight!

Randy and I did our best to ignore the pain and "run" the final victory lap around the Woodle field track. I'm sure it was probably the slowest 400 meters ever recorded in the history of the world, but I was savoring every second of it. Each painful step brought a smile to my face. This was what I came for! I definitely savored the moment. The only the only thing better would have been if my wife, family, and friends could have enoyed the moment it with me (because they're all been a big part of my running and I'm thankful for them).

My feet have seen better days
Image credit: Action Sports Images

Seconds after finishing we were sitting on the grass next to the track having a cold beer. It was all so surreal. Here we had been running for over 29 hours straight, and now it was suddenly over. Mission accomplished. I had never been so happy to take my shoes and socks off. Though I have to admit, my feet were definitely not a pretty sight. They looked like the feet of a zombie, or as my cousin Julie later remarked, a bit like a 3D topographical relief map.

I'd like to say that I'll come back to the Black Hills and do the race again sometime. But right now the thought of running another hundred miler makes me want to hide my head under a pillow and cry. Let's see how I'm feeling (and how my feet are looking) three weeks from now when I'm scheduled to run my second 100 miler up in Lake Tahoe at the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 Mile endurance run.

100 Miles?

On Friday I will fly to the Black Hills of South Dakota where I plan to run in the inaugural Black Hills 100 endurance race on Saturday, June 25.

No pacer. No crew. No drama. Just me. The voices in my head. The spirit of Crazy Horse at my back and beneath my feet. And 100 miles of remote, rugged mountain trail.

I'm not going in cocky, but I'm not going in scared either. I fully plan to respect the distance and the effort required to finish. But I know that I've done the work and put in the training. Now I'm ready to run.

Things are going to get tough. At some point I will undoubtedly find myself sitting on the ridge of a mountain in the middle of the night, cold and wet, during a lightening storm wondering what the hell I am doing out here?

And that's when I will pull out my pocket mirror, look myself in the face and repeat the manta that seven-time Western States winner Scott Jurek made famous, "This is what you came for."

.

San Lorenzo River 50K Race Report

Running among the redwoods

Those of you who read my blog regularly (all 5 of you) know that on Friday I almost had to go to the hospital ER with severe leg pain. I thought it might be an embolism, a pinched spinal nerve, or perhaps some kind of alien death ray weapon. As it turns out, my chiropractor, Dr. Kristina Irvin, was able to get me straightened out. While she performed a variety of treatments including chiropractic adjustment, massage, electrical stimulation, and ultrasound, she basically diagnosed me with cramps due to an electrolyte imbalance and recommended that I take some supplemental calcium. Sure enough, a couple hours after taking some calcium-magnesium-zinc pills the pain gradually eased and then completely subsided.

I took Saturday off completely just to make sure everything was OK and to give myself a rest day before the Coastal Train Runs - San Lorenzo River 50K that I was already signed up to run on Sunday morning. I was planning to play it by ear depending on how my legs felt during the day and evening on Saturday. Everything seemed fine, so on Sunday morning I woke up, slipped into my running gear and drove up over the mountain from San Jose to Santa Cruz.



Crossing the River

The race starts in Santa Cruz at Harvey West Park and takes you through a beautiful redwood forest alongside (and through) the San Lorenzo River. You actually cross the river midstream four times during the 50K course. The water is only about waist high (perhaps shoulder high if you are on the shorter side) and it's not moving too fast, but it's still a challenge -- especially towards the end of the race when you already have 28 miles under your legs. Luckily the race director was kind enough to string a rope across to provide some assistance. Though in the interest of full disclosure, I still managed to find myself completely submerged under water during each crossing (and not all of them by my own choice).

I didn't really have any personal aspirations for this particular race other than to finish without killing myself or pushing too hard. With my 100 miler coming up in just two weeks, I basically just wanted to get in one last long(ish) training run before the big day. Considering my recent cramping problems, and having just raced 50 miles the previous weekend at Rancho Cañada del Oro and Calero Park, I just wanted to run smart and easy today.

Although I had planned to go out slow and conservatively, I somehow found myself tucked in between Quicksilver Ultra Racing teammate Adam Blum and Über-triathlete Lauren Swigart (both of whom were doing the shorter 30K event). Adam and I stayed together for much of the first half of the race, taking turns doing the work. Running as a team we managed to successfully follow the course markings while many of the other front runners apparently took a wrong turn and ended up running part of the course backward.

Anyway, somewhere around mile 13 I started to pull away from Adam a bit and found myself running alone. I knew there were still a few runners ahead of me, but I wasn't sure how many of them were doing the shorter distances (1/2 marathon, 30K and marathon) and how many (if any) were doing the 50K. So I was pleasantly surprised when aid station volunteers informed me that I was the first 50k runner to come through the aid station. Sweet!

Now the pressure was on. I had the lead, but could I keep it? And if I could hold on for the win, would I also be able to better the course record of 5:07:21 set by Mark Dowds in 2010? Suddenly my plans to run conservatively evaporated. I found myself ratcheting up the pace ever so slightly and running some hills that I would have probably otherwise walked. I wasn't sure how much of a lead I had, but based on my rudimentary calculations (OK, based on my trusty Garmin Forerunner 310XT ; I suck at trying to do math while running) I was pretty sure I would take at least 10 minutes off the existing course record if I held my pace.

Woo hoo!

Luckily it was all smooth sailing to the finish line. Well, aside from getting stung twice on the neck twice by bees and almost nearly drowning myself in a mere four feet of water during the final river crossing. But luckily I survived to tell the tale and took home the win and a new course record, finishing in first place with a time of 4:48:41.

Congrats to second place finisher Jason Serda came in shortly afterwards in 4:57:41. And congratulations also to 64 year-old Quicksilver Ultra Racing teammate Jim Magil who finished strong in the middle of the field -- running on a torn miniscus! Man, you're a stud Jim.

Here's a link to the official results, and here are my Garmin stats.