Race Report Lumberjack 100 miler

The Lumberjack 100 miler is a wonderfully affordable and low-key run held in Port Gamble on the Olympic peninsula in Washington state. I had trained pretty hard for about 2 1/2 months after being reduced to cross-training due to an injury. I knew that this was a very short build up in training for a long event like this, but I finally wanted my first kick at the can at the 100 mile distance. My plan was to train hard, monitor my body for signs of falling apart and sign up last minute if it didn't. I knew that my friends Sean and Meg were going down to run the race and that our friend Dikesh and Sean's wife Nancy would be there to support them. I also knew that I would have to run eight 20 k loops to successfully complete the 100 mile race. Furthermore the course is historically very muddy and this year was supposedly muddier still. In all honesty though only about 5% of the course was bad with mud pits reaching the middle of my shin, puddles that should be called ponds or just a real slippery sloppy mess. Everything else was very manageable. I didn't know though that Meg's parents -Gary and Afona- would be at the race with their RV and would -along with Dikesh and Nancy- form an absolute rock star crew and a stellar home base for the 3 of us who ran the race. I was expecting to rely on aid stations and my drop bag alone. Coming in after each lap I was cheerfully welcomed by our support crew and subsequently helped with all my nutrition, hydration and gear needs. It was such a wonderful treat since I never had a crew before.

The RV also came in handy on the eve of the race when there was a real proper storm rolling through the "campground" (i.e. the puddle of mud forming the start / finish area). Dikesh and I stayed dry with the others inside the RV and didn't even have to bring out the tent we were planning on using that night. What a mucky mess that would have been. The course for the race has about 450 m of elevation gain for each lap for a total of about 3600 m for the 100 miler. It's a nice rolling course with a mixture of service roads and single track. An incentive of the event is the fact that you will be credited with a 50 mile or 100 k finish if you complete four or five loops of the course even if you were originally registered for the 100 miler. On the flip side this also makes it tougher mentally to embark on another loop rather than drop down in distance I suppose.

Before the race I made a real effort to wrap my head around the mental aspect of running 100 miles on a looped course which is historically not my forte. I went into detail on this in my pre-race post.

I will spare you the play by play of the race. Everything just went off without a hitch. My body held together, I was in very good spirits all day, we didn't have a drop of rain during the entire event, I had a spectacular group of people helping me out on-site and I knew that I had lots of people rooting for me from afar. How can you possibly quit or be unhappy under these kind of circumstances? Exactly. You can't.

Here's a little photographic evidence of my physical decline:

Before the start with the Vancouver delegation
Karl, Meg, Sean and me

Navigating through the mud pit after 40 k / 2 laps.

No sitting down for me ... yet.

Fine. I'll sit. Just a minute though. After 60 k / 3 laps.

Running into Meg and Sean after lap 5/8.
Showing some signs of wear after 100 k.

Fresh as a daisy. After lap 7 / at 140 k.

Walking it in with Afona inquiring about Sean's whereabouts. DONE.

Just to then be "heckled" - I mean congratulated-
by the two veteran Ultrarunners Karl and John.

3 things that worked out really well

1. Gaiters

I seriously don't know why more people aren't wearing them. They keep the debris out of your shoes that would otherwise tenderize your feet and lead to hot spots and blisters. No disadvantages aside from looking dorky, which I can live with.

2. My home brew drink mix

I drank a total of about 3 liters of the mixture during the race and it took care of my electrolyte needs and a good chunk of my caloric needs too.

Here is the recipe:

Equal parts Tart cherry juice, coconut water and water

1 squeeze of lemon plus 1-2 pinches of salt per bottle

3. Motivational notes

I had the idea to ask some of my friends and family to write some motivational or funny notes that I could read in between laps during the event. This strategy worked out really, really well and I was looking forward to reading a couple of them after each lap. If it weren't a looped course I could have put them in my pack and read them along the route. I had told everyone beforehand to send the messages to my wife and she and my daughter made them into some real nice playing card size flash cards. That way I never saw any of the messages before I ran the actual race.

Motivational notes from my daughter Lara

3 random facts

1. There were 2 spots on the course were there was a cacophony of frogs croaking all through the night. One was just after the start of the loop and the other one was in the middle were there wasn't any visible body of water.

2. The drive down from Vancouver -or Bellingham for that matter- going through Whidbey Island and taking the ferry from Coupeville to Port Townsend is seriously scenic. I will definitely go back to explore the state parks along the route more.

Deception Pass State Park on the way to the ferry

3. The 100 mile finisher belt buckle is pretty sweet. Not like I care about things like that - or maybe I do.

Hard earned bling

Happy Trails,

Marc

Seven reasons why I will finish my first 100 miler

Well, technically it should be eight reasons with the first one being that I really enjoy running. Since it is to be expected that this pure in the moment joy will be greatly diminished  during the course of a 100 mile footrace, I want to focus on the seven additional reasons that will keep me going when all I really want to do is stop. All but two of my races to date went somewhat smootly. Both of my rougher experiences came at the 50 mile distance. One was due to a combination of mostly heat related factors such as chafing, stomach distress and overall fatigue and tightness. The other time I was just hosting a pity party for myself for no particular reason other than the fact that I didn't feel like running another 1 1/2 loops of the four loop 50 mile course just to prove that I can finish it. Although I did finish all of my races to date, I didn't always deal with adversity too well mentally. One might argue that picking an eight loop 100 mile course (the Lumberjack Endurance run in Port Gamble, Washington on April 8th) was not a smart idea with my dislike for looped courses, but then again ultrarunning is about overcoming adversity right?

So here are the seven reasons why I will finish the race and dare I say have fun doing it:

1. I will remind myself to be in the moment at the first sight of self pity and loathing. "Steady breath, shoulders relaxed, get out out of your head, notice your surroundings, smooth out your stride".

2. Speaking about smooth strides. The closest I ever came to having a mantra is: "Easy, light, smooth, fast" ... I adopted that one from Caballo Blanco of Born to Run fame.
The whole paragraph goes something like this:
“Think Easy, Light, Smooth, and Fast. You start with easy, because if that’s all you get, that’s not so bad. Then work on light. Make it effortless, like you don’t give a shit how high the hill is or how far you’ve got to go. When you’ve practiced that so long that you forget you’re practicing, you work on making it smooooooth. You won’t have to worry about the last one – you get those three, and you’ll be fast.”

3. I have been a fan of the sport of ultrarunning for a number of years now. The 100 mile race distance is made out to be this mythical beast of self discovery. I am finally ready to find that out for myself. A quote that very closely corresponds to this idea comes from William James who to the best of my knowledge was not an ultrarunner, but rather a 19th century American philosopher.

"Beyond the very extreme of fatigue and distress, we may find amounts of ease and power we never dreamed ourselves to own; sources of strength never taxed at all because we never push through the obstruction."

Wouldn't that be something?

4. More self talk. It will go something like this: "If I quit now it's back to the drawing board. It will take a lot of time and dedication to get back to being this close to finishing a 100 miler in the future. I did everything right to get myself to the startline healthy and fit enough to have a realistic chance at finishing the race and supposedly if you're not feeling like heck at one point or another during a 100 mile race, you're not doing it right."

5. I will also remind myself that I owe it to my family to take advantage of this opportunity. They supported me along the way and put up with this crazy hobby of mine. Plus, they granted me the time to come down here and run myself a race. I should honour their generosity by doing my absolute best.

6. I owe it to anyone who is injured and would love to be in my shoes if they could. I have a few running friends who have been sidelined by long injuries. I should honour them too by doing my absolute best.

7. I want that danged 100 mile finisher's belt buckle. Societal pressure is real. I'll likely never mount it on a belt, but that's not the point ... or is it?

Keep an eye out for my next post on this blog "x reasons why I did / didn't finish my first 100 mile foot race".

Actually. I'll finish. I'm strong. I got this. See what I'm doing here?

Here's the actual post: Lumberjack 100 miler race report

Happy Trails,

Marc

The Price of Admission

Besides a couple of minor scars that I accumulated through childhood and adolescence, I managed to make it to the 4th decade of my life relatively unscathed. Since then though I seem to be making a habit of periodically breaking a bone or spraining an ankle. I hear that most accidents happen at home or work, but I have not yet managed to bang myself up significantly in either place. Play however, is a different story. I am afraid that this development goes hand in hand with me leading a more active lifestyle than I used to.

My mishaps themselves have not been the result of reckless behaviour however. I broke my clavicle when going over my handle bar while biking at approximately walking speed. I broke my hand when slipping on the downhill portion of a wet run and wrapping my fingers around my hand held bottle. Most recently I broke my pinkie while running an interval on a high school track. I tripped over a protruding piece of a football sled after stubbing my toe on it. The ankle twisting business just happens at random points during runs and the mishaps often seem to go in spurts. On the plus side, I never injured myself in a race or missed one, because of being sidelined.

There have been times when my typing was slightly more efficient

It has been suggested to me on numerous occasions to play it safe and modify my running, biking and exploring ways. My response is usually this: To me the injuries are the price of admission to the lifestyle that keeps me happy, balanced and sane. Although I'd be more than happy to gain access at a discounted rate for that matter. So as I am typing this with a surgically repaired pinkie wrapped in too many bandages, I am happily resting up and mapping out new adventures for 2016 and beyond.

Stay healthy everybody.

Impostor no more - My Squamish 50 experience

By now I have about a dozen Ultras under my belt and although there was some chafing in the first one and some queasiness in quite a few of them, I couldn't help, but feel like an impostor. Why? I never experienced any of the Ultra running "rites of passage", like blisters, puking, debilitating cramping, lacerations and such.

That was about to change during this year's running of the Squamish 50 miler. This was to be my second 50 mile foot race. My first one, last year's Sun Mountain 50 miler in Winthrop Oregon (find my race report here), went shockingly well from start to finish without any issues whatsoever. Now, although there was no one single issue that slowed me down and made my plans go sideways at the Squamish 50, there were a few compounding issues that left me suffering in a fairly dark place for most of day.

Still having fun 20 k into the race (it's a smile not a grimace)

About half way through the race I developed some chafing on my thighs and later on in some other areas that shall not be further specified, but made the post race shower one of the least fun experiences of the day.

Furthermore my shins and calves were on the verge of cramping throughout the second half of the race. My shins on the uphills and my calves on the downhills, which had the added "bonus", that when I tried to stretch one of the areas the other one would immediately seize up.

Although I still didn't have to throw up I got to the point where outside of the aid stations I was hardly even able to tolerate water, leave alone food. Interestingly enough when stopping at the aid station (i.e. not moving) I was still able to take in some calories, although too much food at a time didn't work out so well either.

One other issue I dealt with were my lower abs which got really sore and hurt me quite a bit, especially on the downhills. Now this is an issue I have dealt with in the past, but never got quite as bad as in this race. This really upset me, because for the last 9 months I had been really consistent about adding some weekly strength and core work to my routine, which it seems did nothing to alleviate the problem.

Lastly my mental "fortitude" was such, that I was pretty much hosting an 8 hour pity party for myself. I got to the point where I was about 90 percent certain that I would drop at the 5th aid station about 53 k into the race. This was the biggest aid station of the day with lots of cheering friends and family. I continued mainly due to the volunteers doing a phenomenal job of pushing my sorry butt out of the aid station and back onto the trail. From this point forward there was a lot of hiking involved. My saving grace was that my friend Eric caught up to me at aid station six at around 62 k and we were commiserating for much of the remaining 18 kilometers. In the end I might have finished the race mainly, because I was too proud to ask for a car ride back to the finish line from any of the last 3 aid aid stations. In between aid stations there is not really a way to drop out anyway since you are in the middle of the forest. I violated the "beware the chair" rule and enjoyed a few minutes of chair time at each of the last two aid stations to "contemplate life", which seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn't have too much trouble getting back up either actually, so no regrets there.

Overall this was probably my worst race ever in terms of my finishing time vs my initial expectations. It is also the one I am most proud of though, since I managed to stick it out and not quit although my body begged me to. I shed my "ultra-impostor" label and am now able to move forward. I think I still have a ways to go in terms of improving on my mental fortitude. After finishing this race, I have a hard time imagining how people are able to finish -let alone excel in- events of even longer distances. Ultras are all about managing your body, which I thought I was getting pretty good at. It's back to the drawing board now though. I need to take stock of what happened and try to improve upon a few things in my training and preparation.

I suffered through a 50 mile footrace and all I got was this T-shirt :-)

If you are looking for a tough and beautiful 50 mile race with awesome support and course marking that makes getting lost near impossible, the Squamish 50 miler is for you. There are 50 k and 23 k options by the way, which now seem like incredibly appealing, more sane options to me. Co- Race Director Garry Robbins is known for designing  tough courses, but he really outdid himself on this one.

Happy running and racing,

Marc

Digging deep in the face of mediocrity

As part of revisiting my Gorge Waterfall 50 k race experience I had to concede that my mental fortitude -or lack thereof- might have been the biggest limiting factor to finishing stronger.

It seems to be easier for me to prepare physically for a race than it is to prepare mentally. I usually ask myself on race morning: "How much are you prepared to hurt and suffer today?" I think it is a good question to ask and it prepares you for the fact that there will inevitably be some discomfort involved while trying to race to the best of your abilities. Even if you are mentally prepared though some discomfort will sneak up on you during a race. How do you manage not to be dominated by the pain and exertion though? I suppose you also need to answer the question: "Why should I make myself hurt in the first place?" There are two types of physical discomfort during a race. One is the kind of pain that you are trying to avoid as much as possible such as blisters, bruises, chafing and such. Then there is self-inflicted pain which comes from pushing your limits and racing hard.

Having a time goal can be a good motivator, but this is somewhat tricky to establish a realistic finishing time on an unknown course especially if you are having issues early on in the race. I am not the kind of person to get super competitive with the racers around me either, if I don't know them that is. If I know them, the race is on.

Everybody loves stories about perseverance, but the vast majority of them seem to focus on contenders or champions even if they might be the underdog of the narrative. It's somewhat easy to imagine what drives athletes in these situations: Winning, earning prize money and qualifying for an event or competition among others. What about the rest of us though? The folks in the middle of the pack who punish themselves tremendously to finish 112th instead of 129th? What are we supposed to use for motivation? If you have ever volunteered as a course marshall or at an aid station in a race you might have also noticed that the slower the participants are the more fun they seem to have.

Even though my primary athletic pursuit is trail running, I am an avid reader of Bicycling Magazine. I remember now retired pro cycling veteran Jens Voigt writing about his relationship with pain and discomfort and claiming that he treats pain as his favourite enemy. He relishes the opportunity to get to know and control it better every time he encounters it. It's a great little article and you can just substitute "run" for "ride" as you see fit. The idea is the same. After re-reading the article I am wondering if I spend enough time getting acquainted with physical discomfort in training. Probably not. I am afraid I should though. It's the best thing I can think of in order to prepare for race day. On the plus side: It is generally accepted that training super hard all the time is not what you want to go for for best results as well as for staying injury free.  So luckily I don't have to face my newly crowned favourite enemy every day. Maybe a couple of times a week will suffice.

I re-discovered another article on pain and suffering which delves deeper into the science of things.  I enjoy the reference to former pro cyclist David Zabriskie's habit of adopting a superhero persona in his mind while competing in time trials (and quite successfully at that too). A good portion of the article deals with the thesis that a so called "central governor" in the brain is what determines how hard we can go. This governors' job is to tell us that we cannot possibly go any harder while preserving some reserves in order for us to not collapse on the spot. There are great reserves of strength and stamina to be found if we manage to override the impulse to back off that is sent out by the brain. If you feel motivated now to go out and run or ride yourself to pieces, don't blame it on me though please.

If you still haven't got enough of reading up on the subject, here are three more great articles on pain and perseverance from irunfar.com:

• Peak Performance and The Selfish Brain on irunfar.com
• Cramps and how to deal with them from irunfar.com
• Navigating the pain trail from irunfar.com Part 1/2
• Navigating the pain trail from irunfar.com Part 2/2

I especially like the concept put forth in one of the articles that our brain is like a board of directors which decides on the severity of a threat to our health and well-being and therefore lets us perceive the intensity of our pain signals accordingly.

After taking the time to look at the issue of digging deep, suffering and racing hard a little closer, these shall be my strategies to push myself hard and finish strong in future events:

Re-focus on form. This time I am not talking about the Caballo Blanco mantra of "Think easy, light, smooth, fast". That one works better for training rather than racing for me. Instead I will try to remember to tighten up my form when I start spending too much time in my own head or when I notice that I am getting sloppy.

Steady breathing, relaxed jaw and hands, arms pumping, cadence high, spine straight and long, shoulders back. Check, check, check and check.

As for developing an alter ego or super hero persona for races for myself, I think I will stick with trying to be the best version of myself. This might sound tacky, but I think it really touches on what will keep me going. There are a lot of people that are less fortunate than I am. They might be physically or mentally unable to pursue their passions. I am blessed to be able to run and live my life to the fullest for the time being and feel therefore obliged to not waste this opportunity. My mantra shall therefore be: Be the best you can be, always. This rule is great because it can be adapted to any situation. For example if you are racing hard and moving well, but you come across another athlete who is injured or in distress the logical consequence for me will always be to put my own ambitions on hold and and help out as needed. A good way to figure out what my best self would do is to ask myself how I would hope for my kids to react in the given situation. The idea is to try and see yourself from an onlookers perspective. This will usually help to make it easier to figure out how to act in a given situation.

The other day I happened to notice a runner on the seawall wearing a shirt that read: "Ride hard. Smile often." This reminded me of reading an article about the positive effect that smiling has on the brain. A lot more reading can be done on the subject. Go ahead and google it if you like, but it comes down to what is expressed in this quote by Thich Nhat Hanh:

"Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy."

Since my primary athletic pursuit is running my mantra shall henceforth be known to be:

Run hard. Smile often.

I will furthermore try to be aware that goals have to always be re-evaluated or adjusted. If the goal of finishing the race under a goal time fails the event doesn't have to be a write off all together. If that happens I shall not fret, but try to focus on finishing and having fun in the process instead.

Having devised this ingenious strategy I also have to say that racing to ones' full potential in terms of speed might not be for everyone and I respect anyone who emphasizes fun and camaraderie over pushing their limits. As for myself, I will test my boundaries for a little while longer and see how far I can take my fitness or how far my fitness can take me. I also see the need to plan adventure runs and other events and training runs that focus on connecting with fellow runners. As with everything else in life I am striving for the ever elusive balance.

See you out on the trails,

Marc