One veteran Ironman triathlete's venture into the ultramarathon realm where there are seemingly no limits to human endurance. Any triathlete who is interested in doing an ultramarathon should check here for tips and advice. For workouts leading to a successful finish at the Vermont 100 Mile Ultramarathon, you can find daily workouts at http://joegoldschedule.blogspot.com

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Amazing Athletes - Aussie Will Attempt To Run From the North Pole to the South Pole

Now this would be an amazing feat:

Aussie marathon man to run from North to South poles

Apparently, Pat Farmer will be doing this on the North American and South American continent, then air lifted to Antartica, where he will be running the rest of the trip to the South Pole.

13,000 miles, in 11 months? That is about 40 miles per day, with no rest.

And this is in weather that ranges from sub freezing cold, to hot, moist weather, then back to sub freezing cold again.

And in politically unstable regions such as mexico and other parts of Central and South America.

That truly is amazing folks. I wish him luck, and hope to track him as he attempts the impossible.


Thursday, September 9, 2010

The Paleo Diet for Athletes? Points in the Right Direction

In today's dietary menu of processed foods, one has to really make an effort to try to eat right. By perusing through the regular supermarket, I can probably count with my fingers the number of good foods that are out there (outside the produce department).

If you eliminate all of the foods that have high fructose corn syrup (HFCS) in them, you probably eliminate more than half the foods in the supermarket. Heck, the ingredient is so prevalent that the stuff is in most baby formulas. I really don't think you want to start your baby's life on the wrong foot by introducing them to HFCS right away. High fructose has been shown in all sorts of different studies to promote obesity and is arguably worse than pure sugar, as fructose cannot be metabolized in the body as well as glucose can. So the body converts it to fat.

Of the remaining foods, if you eliminate your so-called "diet" foods like diet soda and sugar free gum, you really have very few foods that remain. The problem with these "diet" foods is that they contain artificial sweeteners like aspartame (Equal) and sucralose (Splenda). Both chemicals have been shown in studies to be extremely harmful to the human body despite the approval of the FDA. Read the links provided and do some Google searches and you'll come up with plenty of articles related to this.

So what is really left? One can argue soy products and grains are good for you, but are they? Grains are not normally edible in nature and is usually a kernal surrounded by a toxic sheath. Before technology, they weren't easily accessible to humans and therefore not normally in the human diet. Even with processing, grains have a slew of problems associated with them. You can read a good article here about these problems. Grains are a lot better than HFCS and artificial sweeteners, but chances are that maybe they should ideally be just a small part of your diet.

So what is left. Raw foods, nuts, berries, eggs, and meat. All of these were plentiful in the days before technology, back when there was no such thing as diabetes, obesity, and other related illnesses brought on by bad food. Such as which is promoted in the Paleo Diet.

And this is what intrigues me about this diet. It just seems the most natural diet out there and something that I'm currently trending towards. I won't follow the diet to the letter, but will gradually maximize on those foods recommended by the diet while I minimize those foods that it opposes. Will I have an occasional can of Coke on any given day? Sure, but if I limit those cans of soda to maybe 2-3 cans a week, that would be all the better.

As for doing this as an athlete, this might help me lose a little weight and even optimize performance in my workouts, if done right.

I'll probably talk more about this in the future when I discover more about it, but right now, this regimen shows a lot of promise.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Rebelling Against The Machine - I Am An Individual

One of the things I have a knack for is pinpointing problems, addressing those problems, and then solving them in the best way possible. That is what makes me a coach, helping athletes find whatever problems they have and help them solve the problems.

Outside of coaching, I work the same way. A lot of people know that there is a general sense of "wrongness" in this country these days, and it adversely affects their health and livelihood in the process. I have pinpointed a lot of these problems to certain sources, but it would take an eternity to explain these sources on a blog such as this. Some issues do fall into health issues and since this blog is intended toward health and fitness in the ultra world, I will address those issues here.

Today's society has become more like a machine these days, with every person a cog that helps the machine run. The machine "helps" in a way to sustain us and keep us alive, but will not help in bettering our lives over time. It is an existence that ultimately destroys an individual's free will and health. The machine doesn't care about your health anyway; if you, the cog, breaks down, well, those who run the machine can replace you with another cog so that the machine can keep on running.

The Borg are a perfect example of a machine-run society. Each Borg was part of a collective and were not allowed to express their true talents on an individual basis.

And therein lies the problem with people in this country. There is an internal war going on within the minds of many individuals. Human beings are not cogs; we are not all the same. Each individual is talented in different areas whether it be scientific, artistic, or mechanical. These talents are being repressed in today's society where the shapers of this society discourage the use of your talents and reduce you to that of a cog. Since each individual is not being allowed to flourish and be human, it is ultimately his/her mental and physical health that is sacrificed. Last year, I read an article that antidepressants are up 75% the past 10 years. I argue that there is really nothing wrong with the individual who takes antidepressants; it's probably the situation the individual is in that is making him/her depressed. Heck, if I was stuck in a cubicle all day for 5 days out of the week, I would probably be popping pills also.

It's a tough situation that a lot of people find themselves in. Of course, the easy way out is to take the medication, do as you're told, and try to conform to society. Yeah, you'll live your life out, even possibly getting to retirement, but you'll never see your true potential, as your individual strengths and talents are suppressed. Remember, there is nothing special about being a cog. So sit there, shut up, and help the machine work. Of course, with the suppression of your talents, and therefore your humanity, lies a lot of health problems. Some are physical, like obesity. Some are mental, like depression. That both are dominant problems in today's society is surely not a coincidence.

The other way is to start exhibiting your true talents and make them work for you. This can be a tougher road to take than the antidepressant route, but the fulfillment of your full potential is worth the extra effort. There will be failure along this path, but the ability to get back up from failure and learn from it is always the trick to succeeding in the end. My blog about living outside your comfort zone relates to taking the tougher path to fulfillment.

As a coach, I certainly help people realize that they have the means to realize that their potential can be unlimited and that they can succeed in doing whatever they want as long as they work toward their goal. The beauty of being an endurance coach is seeing those individuals finish distance races they couldn't possibly hope they can do a year ago.

As an individual, I am always trying to translate what I have done to that I can have the confidence of minimizing my exposure to the machinery of society. The next series of blogs will go through what I have done to minimize my exposure to this machine.

The tougher road is always the road to take to fulfillment. I always encourage my athletes to take this road rather than the easy way out. It has enabled me to do several Ironman triathlons. An even tougher road has enabled me to run 100 miles in a race. And the toughest road, the road that I am currently taking, will hopefully help me find the full realization of my true self, transcending all and exceeding my greatest expectations, which is a lot more than the machine can give.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Why I Might Not Qualify for the Hellgate 100K Race

So I have one 100 mile run under my belt. While it does open the door for many other ultras, like the Massanutten 100 or the entry into the Western States 100 lottery, it still might not qualify for some of the more hard core races out there.

The Hellgate 100k could be one of those races...taken from its website:

The first 100 to 110 entrants that are deemed QUALIFIED will be accepted. QUALIFIED will be determined by the race director ( ME ), David Horton.   

Now David Horton is a legend in the ultra world, running the 2100 mile Appalachian trail in record time, running the TransAmerican Road Race from Los Angeles to New York, among other mega accomplishments that he's done. To view one person doing one 100 mile ultra might not be "qualified" to his eyes.

No matter. If I am not qualified as of yet, that is a testament to what he wants in his races. It also shows me that his races are of the highest quality and that I still do need to prove myself in his eyes before I can enter this race. 

The Vermont 100 Miler was certainly not my last. And I would love to use the Vermont 100 Miler as a kickoff to many other races here in the ultra world. And maybe, just maybe, I can finally be seasoned enough to qualify in David Horton's eyes.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Grand Slamming in the Ultra Scene - The Resiliency of the Human Body

One of the most intriguing and amazing accomplishments in ultramarathon is the Grand Slam. The Grand Slam is just one part of the ultra that simply lends wonder to the limits (or lack thereof) of the human body. Let's see if I can simplify this for you.

The Grand Slam is a group of the 4 original 100 mile races that is done in the same year, or actually, within a 4 month period. Here is a link that describes it fully:

http://www.run100s.com/gs.htm

The first race, the Western States 100, is said to be the original 100 mile race, held in California on June 25-26 of this year. Runners climb a total of 17,500 feet before all is said and done.


The second race, the Vermont 100, is only 3 weeks after Western States, July 17-18. Slammers (as those who attempt the Grand Slam are called) are supposed to shake off the rigors of Western States and recover in time to finish another 100 miler. This is the "easiest" of the series; by easiest I mean a total gain of "only" 14,000 feet from start to finish. I did this race, and it was definitely no picnic.

The third race, the Leadville 100, was held this past weekend, about 5 weeks after Vermont, on August 21-22. 5 weeks is a little more rest, but you have to remember that the Slammers now have to shake off TWO 100 milers before attempting the third. Oh, and this race is at altitude and a LOT tougher than Vermont. This race is reported to be about 14,000 feet of total climbing, but most of the race is held above 10,000 ft. above sea level, a challenge in itself.

The last race, the Wasatch Front 100, will be held on September 10, only 3 weeks after Leadville and that this race is definitely the toughest of the 4. The total climbing is over 26,000 feet, about 3,000 feet short of climbing Mt. Everest. For those who are running on legs that have done 3 previous 100 milers, this is one tall order.

The odds seem stacked against anyone who attempts the Grand Slam, yet there are more people who actually achieve this feat now than anytime in the past. It is a tribute to the resiliency of the human body that this can be done.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Pushing the Limits, My Vermont 100 Mile Ultra Race Report, 2010


In my whole life, I've always wanted to push my limits, both on mind and on body. My whole Ironman triathlon experience in the 1990's was one such way. I decided to go into Ironman triathlons as the logical next step after the marathon.

My first marathon was in NYC in 1995. I enjoyed the race outright and it was nice becoming a marathoner back then. But I always felt that the body can master much more than that, and so I entered and completed the Ironman Triathlon the next year.

During my twenty-something years, I was to finish numerous half-Ironman races and 5 more Ironman races before a new calling came to me; the ultramarathon. Unlike the commercialized realm of humongous expos, brand-name products, and celebrities, the dark, shadowy realm of running 50 kilometers, 50 miles, or 50 miles over mountains and in pretty inhospitable conditions lured me. There are no celebrities here, no expos, or no sponsors (well, maybe a couple), just a few half-crazed souls looking for enlightenment by going where few people have gone before. Races like Badwater, which is held in 120F desert conditions. Races like the Arrowhead, where temps below zero degrees is the norm for this 130+ mile race. And races like Leadville, “The Race Across The Sky” where the average altitude is over 10,000 feet.




The Leadville 100 Topograph - 50 miles out, then back. Scary, isn't it?


The Vermont 100 topograph. Oh, that wee, wee little graph in the lower left hand corner is the Boston Marathon, adjusted to the Vermont scale.

I've done a couple of 50 milers and have failed in my first attempt at a 100 miles two years ago at the Burning River ultra, when I made numerous mistakes and had to bow out at mile 75. This year, I decided to tackle one of the original 100 milers, the Vermont 100, which took place in July 17-18. This race is also one of the so-called Grand Slam events, where a few of the toughest people of the world tackle four of these 100 milers in a 4 month period. This was the second race of the Grand Slam, with the Western States 100 being the first race 3 weeks prior to Vermont, the Leadville 100 being the 3rd leg in August, and the real tough Wasatch Front 100 being the last of the series. These battle-hardy people are considered Slammers.

So my strategy is quite simple. 1) Eat early, eat often, and make sure it stays down, 2) Keep moving. Stay at an aid station for only a couple of minutes, get the food in, and GO! No matter how bad I feel I needed to keep moving to keep the legs loose. 3) Keep driving toward the finish, and never relent, even in the face of adversity. In a race of this magnitude, I knew that I will be in extremely tough circumstances. I needed to keep focus on my primary objective and finish.

This summer is turning out to be a really hot one, and the weather forecast mimicked it. Race day temperatures were high of 91 degrees F, and a high humidity at 60%. The terrain calls for 14,000 feet of climbing, so I had some pretty challenging obstacles facing me. The start was at an ungodly time of 4AM, so this will be a 2 night race. I had a pen light for the hour or so of darkness that I will be experiencing after the start; my best headlamp was stored away with my crew for the run through the darkness during the next night.

One other thing that is of note were the mandatory medical checks. There are 3 of these checks on the course, and if I lose 5% of my baseline weight on any one of them, the medical staff can order me to stay at the aid station until they deem me fit to continue. If I lose more than 7% of my baseline weight, they can disqualify me. I was truly concerned with this because I do tend to sweat a lot and did tend to gain 5 pounds of weight during my taper last week. When they measured my baseline weight before the race, I weighed in at 204 pounds.

The night before the race, I arranged everything I thought I needed. I had my extra pairs of shorts ready, my extra shoes, the Bag Balm, batteries for the head lamps, towels, bug repellent, extra salt caps, etc. all arranged in the trunk of my car. My father, who is always interested in these races, will drive to each of the handler aid stations. Since he only is one person, I told him to meet me at the mile 46.1 aid station Camp 10 Bear so that he can get a good morning of sleep.

My pacer was arranged through the Vermont 100 organizers. His name was Bob from New Hampshire and would also meet him the second time I hit the Camp 10 Bear Aid Station 70 miles into the race, when pacers are allowed to aid their runners toward the finish. He would wind up a very important part of me finishing the race in good shape.

I decided to get up at 2:30AM, clear out the cobwebs of my head, get some Pop-Tarts in my stomach, and head on down to the start line of the race. In Vermont, away from all the metropolitan areas, it was pretty much pitch black with lots of stars overhead, a beautiful night in the country. It was quite warm at this hour so I basically applied Bag Balm on all the critical areas of my body, dressed in my running attire, put on my race number (#212) and left for the start. I checked in at the table; the feeling that I was now an “official runner” put things in perspective that all the training that I did led to now and I was ready to go.


From Start to Pretty House (21.1 miles into the course):



Ten minutes before race time...I was doing WHAT?!!

The last hour before the race was just getting mentally ready, taking in some water and a bagel, which were made available to runners, and counting down to the start. One last check to see if I had all the gear I needed. Pen light in one hand, check. Water bottle in another hand, check. Fuel belt with salt pills, energy drink bottles, and a cell phone, check. The cell phone is there to make sure I stay in contact with both my crew and pacer and to let them know where I am.

At the start line, chatting with the other ultra runners.

Finally, the time came. A countdown was initiated, with runners going 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and then we were off! We got onto the road from the field and all settled into our own paces. I decided on a 12 minute/mile pace, well within my limits; I didn't want to burn up any energy on the first mile. Most of the runners settled into a faster pace. That's OK, I know I'll see some of them again, when I pass them at mile 60!



We're off! And...walking?

After the first mile we turn off the paved road and go onto a double-track trail with some rocks, which were a bit tricky to the small light I had. Fortunately, I settled in with a group of 3 people, who had brighter lights, and helped light the way for me. We talked about our experiences with ultras and what our goals were in this race. I also started drinking generously from my water bottle knowing that I had an aid station coming up at mile 7.

We get back on the paved road and finally got to the first aid station, an unmanned aid station with just containers of water and Hammer Heed. It took me 1:27 to get to this spot, which was on time as far as I know. I quickly fill my water bottles and off I went again.

We were mostly on dirt roads, and the hills weren't bad at this point. As a matter of fact we had some downhills that boosted confidence in the runners. But looking at the topography of the course, I know that this confidence can easily be shattered as the miles wear on. Over the 100 mile course, as I stated before, we would be climbing 14,000 feet before we finish this thing, approximately half of Mt. Everest. And what is especially critical to know is that the last 30 miles of this race is the toughest, about the same time where runners will be at their weakest.

After some descent we finally made it to Taftsville, cross over Rt 12 with the aid of some police officers, through a covered bridge which was pretty neat, past the cameraman who was taking pictures of the race, and onto our first manned aid station of the race, appropriately named Taftsville Covered Bridge (15.3 mi). Eat early, and eat often is the mantra, and I made sure I was good for it. I wolf down a turkey sandwich and started diving into the Gummy Bears. With some Gummies in my mouth I looked at one particular volunteer in the eye and said, “I'd run 100 miles for Gummy Bears!”. She chuckled at this. I thanked her and made off with some more Gummies in hand.

The next section is the first serious uphill of the day, and the first sign of horses. Let me backtrack on this a little here. The Vermont 100, like The Western States 100, its sister race, began as endurance horse races. As history states, at the Western States 100, one person, Gordon Ainsleigh, had his horse lame before the race even began, so instead of bowing out of the race, he decided to tackle the course on foot, which led to the ultramarathons we see today. So these 100 mile races will always have close ties to the horse race. With the Vermont 100, the horse race just so happens to start an hour after the runners start (5AM). So it is at this point that the cavalry starts to come.

It's not like we runners were going to get trampled by a stampede of wild beasts though. Remember that these horses have to do 100 miles and need to pace themselves too. At most, the horses go at a trot and it is both our jobs to communicate with each other in case the horse has to pass. Sometimes they do slow the horses down to the runners pace, which is nice because I did happen to chat with one of the riders at this point. I congratulated her on a fine horse and asked what her strategy was in completing the race. Horses have a different anatomy than runners; they are built more toward speed and not stamina. The rider tells me that horses need to rest and cool down for at least one hour at each of their aid stations, which were 15-20 miles apart. After which they are fit to ride again.

One of the horse riders on the VT100 course

Some more horses arrive and go as I climb and descend the hills that lead me to the first handler station of the day, the Pretty House Aid Station at mile 21.1. Within a half-mile from the aid station I get a ring from my pacer asking me where in the race I was. I told them I was coming up upon Pretty House and that things were going swimmingly. He told me that he was on his way to the race site and should see me at mile 70 to pace me the rest of the way. I thanked him and as I hung up the phone, I was finally pulling in the the station. There were a lot of people watching at the side of the road and as I hung up the phone, I looked at an elderly couple who were watching me, pointed at the cell phone and joked, “just business.” I heard them chuckling as I ran by them. Anyway, the first fifth of the race was complete and here were my times...

From Start to Pretty House, 21.1 miles: 4 hours and 19 minutes. Pace of 12:20 minutes/mile.

Status: Strong and coherent


From Pretty House to Stage Road (21.1 miles to 30.1 miles, 9 miles total)

At the aid station I took in a turkey sandwich, some M&Ms and a lot of water, and went off into the next section. My father who was crewing was not here because I needed to rest him for the latter half of the race, I would see him at Camp 10 Bear, the 47.2 mile point of the race.

Aside from that, I didn't actually see the house to marvel how pretty it was. I guess I wasn't really trying at the time. Oh well, next time...the next segment of the race took us up another trying hill. As more horses passed us, I waved to each of the riders in turn. It was pretty neat sharing the road with horses; this is definitely something that a person from NYC doesn't see every day. We descended another hill over to the next aid station (U-Turn Aid Station), an unassisted aid station that only carried water and Hammer Heed. Well, scratch the water, it was totally gone by the time I arrived. My bottle was almost empty and I was forced to take the Heed. Ugh, the stuff was truly nasty going down. At about halfway to the next aid station I dumped out half the bottle of the revolting stuff, swearing never again to have it grace my lips again. I resorted to the “emergency” water bottles on my Fuel belt to make it through this section.

Oh, and about this section? This is about the first truly challenging section of the race, a very long, steep uphill to the top of a mountain, what they dubbed the “Sound of Music Hill”. Once you agonize yourself up the hill, the sights of the surrounding mountains are truly breathtaking!

Sound of Music Hill.

A sign indicated that we were now beyond the marathon distance at this point, and, as expected, we would be going nearly 4 times the marathon distance when we cross the finish line. Once up the mountain then what came next was even tougher, a really steep downhill section guaranteed to pulverize the quads into submission. At this early segment of the race, this is definitely NOT what I wanted right now. I know how it feels when quads are turned into hamburger in a marathon race and it wasn't a pretty sight. I really didn't want this to happen in a 100 mile race because I really needed them to function for the next 75 miles. Despite the concern, I jarred myself all the way down the mountain into the next handler station, Stage Road at Mile 30.1. Another section completed.

From Pretty House (21.1mi.) to Stage Road (30.1mi.), 9 miles: 2 hours and 3 minutes. Pace of 13:40 minutes/mile pace (very hilly section). Time from start: 6 hours 22 minutes (12:42 min/mile pace).

Status: Still coherent, a bit worn around the edges.


From Stage Road to Camp 10 Bear (30.1 miles to 47.2 miles, 17.1 miles total)

At this aid station I ate a lot, and I mean a lot. I was a bit haggard after climbing the mountain and really needed a pick-me-up from whatever food I can consume. The next handler station is Camp 10 Bear, when my father would start helping me out. After a run out onto the road from the station, a quick right into a driveway and boom, another steep hill up a trail. As I quickly realized, this was going to be the theme of the day for the rest of the course. Up the hill, down the hill, aid station. Keep that refrain going for another 70 miles and you have your Vermont 100 course. I kind of dropped hope for a sub 24 hour finish at that point and just concentrated on finishing this thing under the 30 hour cutoff. That means if I can hold each mile under 18 minutes, I would be fine by mile 90 in case I have to walk it in.

Up the hill, down the hill, Route 12 Aid Station (Mile 33.9), then up the hill, down the hill, under another covered bridge to an aid station (Lincoln Covered Bridge, Mile 39.2), then once again up the hill, down the hill and into Lillians Aid station (Mile 43.5). At this point I called my father and told them that I would be in Camp 10 Bear by 2-3 in the afternoon.

The stretch after Lillians was on a paved road for about a mile, then a right onto an uphill trail, then a dirt road for the rest of the way. Camp 10 Bear is the largest aid station in the area, since we hit it twice, and also includes a mandatory weight check. Hoping I didn't lose a lot of weight in the first half of this race, I decided to eat a Clif Bar and finish off all my bottles of water to add to my weight.

My arrival at Camp 10 Bear was heralded by many people cheering all of us on. It's a great feeling to pull in to this aid station knowing that almost half of the race is already done. Plus the cheering people here tended to uplift my spirits here. I met my father at the aid station and was escorted on to the scale for weighing. 204 pounds was my baseline weight, I got on the scale and...202 pounds, not even a 1% drop. NICE!!!

Mandatory Medical Check - Weigh In

Yes, I sweat a lot, but I was holding my food and drink down nicely, and so I didn't lose much. I was quickly cleared by the medical team and free to move on. At the aid station I slammed down a peanut butter sandwich decided to get to the car and have some of those orange and spearmint slice candies, waved to my father, and left the aid station.

Done with Camp 10 Bear!

From Stage Road (30.1mi.) to Camp 10 Bear (47.2mi.), 17.1 miles: 4 hours and 13 minutes. Pace of 14:48 minutes/mile pace (very hilly section). Time from start: 10 hours 35 minutes (13:27 min/mile pace).

Status: Still coherent, but now slowing down a bit.


From Camp 10 Bear to Tracer Brook (47.2 miles to 57 miles, 9.8 miles total)

Coming out of Camp 10 Bear, the thing that I now noticed first was the heat of the day. At 2:30 in the afternoon, the next couple of hours will be the hottest. I just need to endure the heat for 2 more hours. The road out from Camp 10 Bear was a nice gentle downhill, a nice respite from the hills, little did I know...(OK, CUE THE JAWS MUSIC). I was running pretty well, even passing another runner on the road (DA DUM). After a mile, the road levels out, and was still nice to run along (DA DUM). I took in some more water and hoped that the rest of the course was like this (DA DUM, DA DUM, DADUMDADUMDADUM...)

One quick right and all was shattered! I later found that they dubbed this monster of a hill Agony Hill, a 650 foot rise over just a half mile, on a single track with lots of rocks and roots. UGH! The people that I passed, well, they re-passed me going up this hill. In the middle of this horrific climb my left leg locked in a humongous cramp and I had to stop to message it out before resuming my climb. This would be one of the climbs that will be forever etched in my memory with this race. I wasn't feeling well at all and the hill just didn't relent. It was a battle of wills. After what seemed like forever the hill finally lessened a little, giving a little confidence to my fragile ego. I staggered into Pinky's Aid Station (51 miles) with no water and shattered confidence. At Pinky's one guy who did the race in the past told me that the hills were just beginning (turns out he was right).

Another uphill out of Pinky's, then finally a downhill toward the next aid station (Birmingham's, Mile 54.1). At this point I was just sick of all the food that they had. One other runner that I came in with asked for turkey without the bread, and that did appeal to me. So I asked for the same thing. I wound up eating a whole bunch of turkey at this aid station before leaving.

As it turns out this was a big mistake. I forgot about this little tidbit about turkey. It has an amino acid called tryptophan that tends to put people to sleep, and, as I found out, it has a PROFOUND effect on people who just ran 55 or so miles. This section from Birminghams to Tracer Brook was all about keeping awake and fighting off sleep. It was a rotten feeling; I did not want to stop at all because that can complicate things. So for a good 2-3 miles I was basically running with half-closed eyes. Turns out that the other runner who asked for turkey didn't fare so well either; as I passed him I found him lying on his back on the side of the road staring into the sky! Not wanting to end up like that I was determined to press on. By the time I got to Tracer Brook, the next handler station, the drowsy feeling finally abated, thank God.

Tracer Brook Aid Station

From Camp 10 Bear (47.2mi.) to Tracer Brook (57mi.), 9.8 miles: 2 hours and 50 minutes. Pace of 17:20 minutes/mile pace (still below 18 minute/mile and 30 hour cutoff pace). Time from start: 13 hours 25 minutes (14:07 min/mile pace).

Status: Feeling like a used condom.


From Tracer Brook to Margaritaville (57 miles to 62.1 miles, 5.1 miles total)

At Tracer Brook, my father fetched my headlamp, at my request. It was 5:30 in the evening and even though I felt that I could make it to the next handler station (Margaritaville, 62.1 miles) It was good to have just in case I had to walk the entire next section. He mistakenly gives me the older headlamp, which was designated for him during the night-time hours. I decided to take the lamp instead of waiting for him to retrieve the other lamp. I would swap it for the newer headlamp when I get to Margaritaville. Always have to keep moving...

The road away from Tracer Brook went up...and up and up and up. This hill, I learned, was Prospect Hill, and although it was on a nice dirt road instead of a trail, the hill had some teeth to it. As a matter of fact, Prospect Hill happens to be the highest point of the course (1900 feet). I was forced to resort to walking up all 3.5 miles of this hill. At the top, appropriately, was the Prospect Hill Aid Station, unattended. I filled up with water, and continued down the other side of hill. I was still running the downhill sections here so I wasn't completely a mess...yet. Rest assured, I had more than 38 miles of running to achieve the status of “total mess”. A nice downhill section of running saw me into Margaritaville at a pretty decent time, despite the Prospect Hill climb.

Coming in to Margaritaville

From Tracer Brook (57mi.) to Margaritaville (62.1mi.), 5.1 miles: 1 hour and 32 minutes. Pace of 18:02 minutes/mile pace (on cutoff pace). Time from start: 14 hours 57 minutes (14:27 min/mile pace).

Status: Partial mess, can only run downhills now


From Margaritaville to Camp 10 Bear (62.1 miles to 70.1 miles, 8 miles total)

Wasting Away at Margaritaville...

If runners didn't know which aid station this was, the Jimmy Buffet music definitely tipped them off. At this aid station, intrepid runners can get themselves some margaritas from the Parrotheads running the station. As for me, I wanted none of it, instead going for the regular standby ginger ale, gummy bears, and yes, some grilled cheese sandwiches! Something different to whet the appetite. The sandwich slices definitely went down well here. I traded in my older headlamp for the “technologically superior one”, and went off into the waning daylight in search of Camp 10 Bear again.

...searching for my lost shaker of salt...

The first half-mile away from the aid station was a gentle downhill, and I wound up running and catching a runner who was walking at the time. The road then turned left, and started a pretty significant climb that had me walking most of the way to the Brown School House Aid Station (65.1 miles). There was when I received the good news; it was mostly a gentle downhill all the way to Camp 10 Bear. After rehydrating a little at the aid station, I run up a smallish hill, turned right and headed downhill. This was a really nice part of the race; so nice that I caught and passed a couple of runners coming down the hill. The road turned into a tight double-track trail. The only pause I had in this run downhill was to allow a pickup truck with race organizers through as they were attaching glowsticks to the trees on the course in anticipation of the approaching darkness. And in some of the darker areas, I did indeed have to put on my headlamp to navigate the way. Once off the trail and onto a wide dirt road, I turned the headlamp back off since I still had enough daylight to see my way. And the road kept going downhill at such a nice grade that I was able to run beautifully. A left-hand turn, up a small climb, then finally down into Camp 10 Bear, where my father, the 2nd Medical Check, and my pacer awaited me. Things are about to get very interesting, I thought.

From Margaritaville (62.1mi.) to Camp 10 Bear (70.1mi.), 8 miles: 2 hours and 7 minutes. Pace of 15:52 minutes/mile pace (ticking in ahead of cutoff pace). Time from start: 17 hours 4 minutes (14:36 min/mile pace).

Status: Somewhat recovered for the time being


From Camp 10 Bear to West Winds (70.1 miles to 77 miles, 6.9 miles total)

As I run into Camp 10 Bear I was immediately escorted to the scales for my mandatory weigh-in. I give my belt and cap over to my father and stepped on the scale. 201 pounds. Only 3 pounds lost and cleared to go! The medical crew did ask how I was eating and I told them that some foods were hard to keep down, but I managed to keep them down. An announcement came over the loudspeaker for my pacer, Bob, and he came over to introduce himself. Apparently Bob and my father did chat a little before I arrived at the aid station, so they were already familiar with each other. I had some more grilled cheese sandwiches, refilled my water bottle and went off into the night for the next aid station.

Meet Bob, my pacer!

And came upon another nasty trail climb, Call it the Sister of Agony Hill, because it was basically the same nasty grade and the same nasty terrain. I found out later that this hill was called Heartbreak Hill, definitely not to be confused with the one on the Boston Marathon course. If that hill in Boston were replaced by this hill, there would definitely be a lot of DNFs in the race. The hill basically climbs about 500 feet over one mile; you can guess the grade here. Ahead of me, the glowsticks just kept going up and up, and I trudged on.

Of course, this was where I familiarized myself with the pacer. Between grunts I told him who I was and why I was crazy enough to do this stunt. He turned out to be a doctor in New Hampshire and routinely hiked up the White Mountains. I had a mountain goat for a pacer; he was in great shape and knew that I had good pacer right off the bat. He also tried a 100 mile ultra and had to drop out several years back, but he seems to want to try this distance again sometime in the near future. I told him if he needed a pacer, I would be available.

We finally got up the steep hill onto an open dirt road at the ridge of the hill. Somewhere to the back of me, a half-moon was shining the way a bit but we noted several flashes of lightning ahead of us. It was still humid out there and scattered thunderstorms were in the forecast. At the rate I was sweating, some rain showers would actually be welcome.

We met up with some runner and her pacer from the Gills Athletic Club, a prominent ultra running club based here in New England and we ran basically together for several minutes. Bob knew people in the club and was chatting to them as I concentrated on the task at hand, getting to the next aid station. The road turned onto a single track trail and that was when things started to get rough again. Not only were the uphills killing me, but now the downhills were conspiring against me. My quads were already on fire for some of the steeper downhills that I've experienced before, but now, the steep jarring downhills were here in force. Every step I took I winced in pain as I descended these hills. As a result of being very slow and the distance to the next aid station being quite long, I ran out of water about half-way to the next aid station. Now thirsty, I was frustrated at every corner when the next aid station didn't show up. Bob noted my frustration and tried to calm me down, indicating I was still doing well in terms of time. After what seemed like forever, the trail finally exited onto a road. To my left, there were a couple of race organizers standing around a truck, I asked them where the next aid station was, and told me that it was a half-mile down the road. Clearly relieved, I settled down to a walk in anticipation of some nice cold water.

The weather at this point became a bit windy here, as it looked like some of those storms in the distance were about to reach us. We did feel a few drops of rain, but the weather eventually cleared and I was able to retreat back into my own little painful little world.

I got into the Seabrook aid station (74.7 miles) as haggard as can be. I drank large quantities of water, refilled my bottles, ate some stuff, then left. Yet another significant climb awaited afterward. This was what made Vermont so tough...the last 30 miles of the course is perhaps the most difficult since the hills just came relentlessly at the runners. As bad as the course was at this point, yes, it got worse later on.

A small downhill of quasi-running and I finally made it to West Winds. The road immediately before West Winds were dressed up in candles inside paper bags, and it made for an eerie sight as I approach the station. I met my father at this station. He wanted to know what I was doing, and I said that I was still moving forward, despite the discomfort. I also told him I was in uncharted territory. I bowed out in the Burning River 100 Miler at precisely 75 miles. I have now run 77 miles. Hooray for that.

Night time running, with its new challenges.

One other thing I noted were that there were about 3-4 runners sitting at the aid station looking utterly defeated. One thing I have learned from the DNF at Burning River was that I had to keep moving, no matter what, or my legs would stiffen up. So against my body's protestations, I waved goodbye to my father and to see him at Bills. And Bob and I walked off into the gloomy unknown.

From Camp 10 Bear (70.1mi.) to West Winds (77 m.), 6.9 miles: 2 hours and 22 minutes. Pace of 20:35 minutes/mile pace (survival mode). Time from start: 19 hours 26 minutes (14:36 min/mile pace).

Status: Blathering mess


From West Winds to Bills (77 miles to 88.6 miles, 11.6 miles total)

Approaching midnight, in the inky darkness, determining what was next, I struggled on. The road was a bit kinder at this point, with more downhills then up, but I had extreme problems going up any kind of hill. Bob basically encouraged me up these hills helping out whenever possible. Outside the sphere of light the headlamps shown was just a deadly still pitch blackness that was unnerving to me, a person usually surrounded by lights. The onset of the wee hours of the morning presented a different, and more terrifying type of challenge, the onset of sleep. Darkness is the stage for a titanic struggle between body and mind over trying to stay conscious. After some time I basically sleepwalked into Cow Shed (83.6 miles). No wait, I think this was the time where we went slightly off course; some friendly police parked in the area guided us in the right direction of Cow Shed...I think it was here. Thoughts tend to get so jumbled up when fighting consciousness that I seem to jumble up the events a little. Anyway, it was a slight miscalculation of several feet and we found our way again. Cow Shed was a blur; all I had in my mind was to keep moving, and don't stop. The problem is that now blisters have formed on both my feet and are now being made known. I decided to push for Bills anyway and maybe address the problem there (or hoped that the problems went away so that I didn't have to stop).

Running in the wee hours of the morning, fighting sleep...

Bills is the last medical check of the course; if I pass here, I'm cleared to the finish. Bills is also notorious for another thing; the people and the atmosphere is so nice in the barn that most runners tend to stay around for a mile, stiffen up, then drop out of the race. Through multiple sources, the ongoing advice is to get in, get weight, and get the heck out of there as soon as possible!

Getting to Bills was a nightmare also, it is on the top of a huge unforgiving hill and the blisters were starting to hurt a lot. After what seemed like forever (everything seemed like forever at that point), we finally crested the hill and walked into Bills a complete and utter mess.

From West Winds (77 mi.) to Bills (88.6 mi.), 11.6 miles: 3 hours and 54 minutes. Pace of 20:10 minutes/mile pace (survival mode). Time from start: 23 hours 20 minutes (15:48 min/mile pace)

Status: An incoherent blathering mess, the lowest point emotionally in the race


From Bills to Polly's (88.6 miles to 95.5 miles, 6.9 miles total)

A quick weigh-in determines my weight at 198 pounds, 6 pounds underweight. A significant drop but still within safe levels. I was cleared to go on. Despite the warnings about Bills, I had to address the blisters issue and the overall condition of my feet, so I sat down in one of the cots and slowly managed to get my shoes off. My right foot was a total bloody mess, with numerous blisters on my small toe, some larger blisters underneath the balls of my feel, and a huge massive one on the back of my heel. Bob got the Vaseline and slathered it on both my feet. My father was about to fetch a new pair of socks from the car, but to save time, Bob graciously gave me his socks to wear the rest of the way. At the same time I was given 3 cups of chicken broth for a desperate refill of my electrolytes. We gingerly put the shoes back on to my feet, limped into the Port-a-john to get some needed business over with, and gingerly walked back to the barn. At this time my worst fears were realized; I had stiffened up to the point where just walking would be difficult to do. With with only 11 or so miles to go, I was determined to keep moving. So I managed to limp away from the aid station and into darkness again.

The slight uphill was great to help me loosen up the legs for walking again and within 10 minutes, my legs were loose enough to get some ground covered. With 6 hours left in the race and under 12 miles to go, I actually achieved one of my goals, to comfortably get to the finish within the cutoff time. At this point I can cover a mile every 30 minutes and still finish under 30 hours, so I was completely relieved that I had achieved a victory of sorts here.

Another bit of good news was that, after an hour, dawn was starting to break. This then broke my body's insistence on sleeping; I had won the war there also. I was in better spirits at this point and tried to keep a fast walking pace down some of the hills to cover some ground more. The blisters were still killing my feet, but with less than 10 miles to go, my will was stronger. I could beat this thing! Some rehydration at the Keating Aid Station (92 miles) and it was on to Polly's, the last handler aid station before the finish. I thanked the volunteers for being out all night with us and pushed on.

At about a mile before Polly's something bad happened. I felt a shot of pain coming from the small toes in my right foot and had to stop a bit. I was in agonizing pain and told my handler that I may have to switch to my open toed-sandals at Polly's to give my toes some breathing space. After getting approval from me he immediately ran ahead toward the next aid station to ready my father with the sandals when I came in.

As I limped in toward Polly's I saw Bob coming back with the sandals I requested. The pain was somehow subsided, but I decided to put on the sandals to see how they feel. If there ever was a description for heaven, the sandals were it! They were a godsend! The feet felt immediately better; I knew I can traverse the last 4.5 miles in them. I got to Polly's, rehydrated, dropped the fuel belt and gave it to my father to lessen the weight, and off I was, step by step, toward the elusive finish line!


From Bills (88.6 mi.) to Polly's (95.5 mi.), 6.9 miles: 2 hours and 47 minutes. Pace of 24:12 minutes/mile pace (survival mode). Time from start: 26 hours 7 minutes (16:24 min/mile pace)

Status: An incoherent blathering mess, the lowest point emotionally in the race


From Polly's to The Finish Line (95.5 miles to 100 miles, 4.5 miles total)

With the sun finally up, the black flies were out again in force and had to swat at a couple of them to keep them away. Other than that, it was just sheer determination to get to that finish line. The hills weren't going to stop me now. I had the finish line lined up, and now nothing was going to stop me. The feet were doing better in the sandals and my spirits were raised. I talked with my pacer and thanked him for his help through the darkness, especially leading up to Bills. It was a tough, long journey and finally it was coming to an end, a good and victorious end.

We got to the last unassisted station, Sergent's at mile 97.7, then onto an uphill trail that led us toward the finish line. A couple of runners that still had some running legs left in them passed me, but I wasn't really worried about place, just finishing. At the top of a hill we came across a sign...99 miles done, 1 mile to go! Bob egged me on, up, the down some hills, then to a sign indicating only a half mile to go. At that point I finally found my running legs again and started to run in toward the finish. Down a sharp hill, around a bend to the right, and...the finish line!!! With a crown of people in their lawn chairs cheering me on I sprinted the last 50 yards in toward the finish and finally stopped the clock...28 hours, 9 minutes, 15 seconds. I immediately fell to the ground and looked up to the sky...to see a guy with a finisher's medal standing over me. I took the medal, smiled, and thanked both Bob and my father for getting me through this.

This is a race I will cherish for the rest of my life. I had covered 100 miles. Oh, and about the toes, even though my feet are healed 1.5 weeks after the race, my toes are still a bit numb, maybe a little nerve damage perhaps? Nevertheless, they will heal eventually. Secondly, I found that the weather took a toll on the runners in the race...only 55% of the people who started the race wound up finishing it. The heat, the distance, and the hills combined for a lethal combination that felled a lot of the runners on the course. I might be doing Vermont again one day, and if that day comes, it's probably because I'll be going for the Grand Slam of 100 milers (Western States, Vermont, Leadville, and Wasach Front, 4 races in 4 months). Hey, I can dream, right?

From Polly's (95.5 mi.) to Finish Line, 4.5 miles: 1 hours and 52 minutes. Pace of 24:53 minutes/mile pace (relief mode). Time from start: 28 hours 9 minutes (16:53 min/mile pace).

Status: A smiling, stinking, dirty, blathering mess that has a finisher's medal to show for it!



Thursday, June 10, 2010

Living Outside Your Comfort Zone is Living Your Greatest Potential

Human nature; the realm of the illogical. I am always fascinated with why people act a certain way, even if the act is sometimes not in their best interest. How about parents who take their obviously overweight children to McDonalds all the time. Can't they see that the last thing these kids need is a steady diet of fried, fattening food? Or how about people who cannot find the time to better themselves through exercise or meditation but can find the time to sit for several hours a day watching their favorite programs on TV?

The list goes on and on. For the life of me, I have been trying to find out why people act so illogical all of the time. What is it that people do that act in their own best interests?

What I found is that people naturally start creating “comfort zones”. These are basically set models or behaviors that one finds the minimal amount of stress in. It's kind of like the path of least resistance; your mind basically will tend toward a less stressful environment than a more stressful environment. For example, maybe the parents who take their kids to McDonalds all the time don't want to take the time to cook a different meal every day. The cooking would be a more stressful task then just getting in the car and driving to the McDonalds.

I deal with the latter example every day as an endurance coach. It seems like people would rather sit down and watch their favorite episode of 24 than get outside and just walk for 30 minutes. There is more anxiety and stress changing into their fitness clothes and getting outside to walk a little than plopping down in front of a large TV and stare at it for an hour or two. The TV provides a huge comfort zone for a lot of people who would normally do other, more creative things in their lives.

After a while these comfort zones actually start turning into another thing, PRISON WALLS. A person who spends most of his or her life inside that comfort zone will never realize his/her creativity, will not unleash the potential inside him/her, and will forever stay trapped in a prison of his/her doing. After many years of this the person would wonder what happened to his/her life. This is the result of having never challenged him/herself in anything relevant.

But all hope is not lost. I am starting to see a huge trend change, where people actually realize the prison that they've created for themselves and have started to find a way to escape it. Part of this is our current economic situation. Not many people have steady jobs anymore that contribute greatly to their comfort zones. These people are forced outside, and there they start to flourish and get creative. For some reason, our government is trying to prevent this from happening by trying to keep people within their comfort zones by extending unemployment benefits to infinity, the offering of other governmental assistance, and other such programs designed to keep creativity to a minimum and the comfort zones to the maximum.

Despite what the government does to stymie creativity, I also see a huge awakening. In my line of work I see a lot more people entering the marathon in recent years. I've also seen a lot more people entering the Ironman Triathlon in recent years. Now I'm actually starting to see a higher volume of people who are interested in running an ultramarathon (any race over the 26.2 mile marathon distance). This is quite the trend that I'm seeing. I attribute it as people who are finally trying to break out of their own prisons by empowering themselves.


The ultramarathon is a good microcosm of that empowerment. At first, running 100 miles in one day sounds insane. But the people who actually finish these races spend several years staying outside the comfort zone, challenging themselves as much as they can, even failing in the process a couple of times. But they continue to challenge themselves until they finally achieve their goals. Human potential is basically unbounded and limitless when you tear down those prison walls.

To all those triathletes and runners who have finished the marathon, the Ironman, and the ultramarathon, my hat's off to you. You have challenged yourself to go where few people have gone before and I commend you for your success. All I ask of you is to expand your challenges to other areas of your life where you feel are imprisoned. Go ahead and start your own business. Go ahead and talk to that attractive girl you feel is unattainable. Go ahead and ask your boss for that raise. You might fail miserably the first time, but, as you learned in your training, persistence will eventually grant you success.

As for those people who are starting so realize the prisons they find themselves in, it's never too late to change! The first immediate thing you need to do to break down your prison walls is turn off that TV, turn off that cell phone, and get out there and walk for 20-30 minutes each day. This will serve to clear your mind and reconnect with reality. TVs, cell phones, and other gadgets of modern technology only serve to muddle and coherent thinking. If you can get away with using them for at least a half hour, you can often start to clear your mind somewhat. Then start thinking what you feel you want to do that will bring out your full potential. Go ahead and think big goals! This reconnection with reality might take some days or even a couple of weeks, but you'll find that your mind will clear more and more each day. Once you have set your lofty goals, start planning your steps toward that goal. DON'T BE AFRAID TO FAIL! You might fail numerous times, but persistence is everything. Despite what society tries to tell you, failure is a great learning experience; you'll learn not to take the steps that made you fail in the first place. Keep at it and eventually you will succeed.

Even though I have 6 Ironman races under my belt, my life is dotted with failures. I failed at my first half-Ironman race at Tupper Lake in 1991; in 1992 I went back, finished and took 2nd place in my age group. In 1994 I failed at my first Ironman distance race at Martha's Vineyard in 1994; my second attempt at Ironman Canada in 1996 was very successful, finishing under 11 hours. In 2008 I attempted my first 100 mile ultramarathon and had to bow out at mile 75. Realizing the mistakes I made, I hope to finish my first at the Vermont 100 Mile Ultramarathon this July. Yes, most of the time failure is tough to take emotionally, but getting back into the saddle is the best way to stare failure in the face, try again, and eventually succeed.

This is reflected in every other areas in life. You need to realize that only YOU are the one that can realize your greatest potential. One YOU are the one that needs to empower yourself to escape your own prison and out of your comfort zone. Only YOU are the one who can make the effort to fulfill your life's expectations. Do not wait for anyone else to make the effort for you. The power is within YOU. And YOU have that ability to move mountains if you focus on it. Your potential can be limitless!

If someone else tells you that you cannot finish a marathon and you feel you can, you have that power to make the effort and take the steps needed to finish that marathon. If you've been laid off and you've been told you are “overqualified” for the position you're in, maybe it's about time to put those qualifications for YOUR use and start a business yourself. If you proactively take the bull by the horns, it's quite amazing how everything else starts to fall into line and how much support you will get from friends and family. Because your empowerment is contagious, other people will want to help be part of your success.

Whatever your goals are, you always need to get out of your comfort zone and try to achieve your greatest potential. It's the only way to live life to the fullest. And you wouldn't want to live any other way once you start trying. Trust me.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Tackling the 100 Mile Ultra – You Need Patience, Grasshopper

Unlike shorter races, a Type B Personality is critical to finish well.

Before I start writing this article, here are the common traits of Type A and Type B Personalities:

Type A Personality – Competitiveness, Strong Achievement, Time Oriented, Stressed

Type B Personality – Relaxed, Patient, No Sense of Time, Drifts from One Subject to Another

In all my years of training, racing, and coaching, the 100 mile ultramarathon is the race that has intrigued me the most. Because of the mind-boggling running distance, there is a different philosophy or mindset that surrounds this distance and the people that do it. If you come from a competitive triathlon or running background, I invite you to come on down to an ultramarathon race just to observe and talk to the people who participate in it. The atmosphere in an ultra will “feel” much different than in a triathlon or shorter running event.

Why is that? Because the nature of the runners who do this race have a different philosophical approach in how they approach a race like this than those who do the more normal, shorter races. Unlike what might believe, in the moments before the start of such a race most of the seasoned athletes are totally relaxed and stress-free. Compare that to the moments before a running race or triathlon, even the Ironman, and you'll see people with their “game faces” on; a significant number of them are even stressed out before their race begins.

What makes ultramarathoners more relaxed than athletes in shorter races?

Because unlike an Ironman or a marathon, having patience and being in a relaxed state is absolutely critical to getting through a 100 mile marathon. In my quest to finish my first 100 mile race this year, this has been the toughest hurdle that I have ever faced in my lifetime. I've been trained, once I'm out on any race course, to get to the finish line as quick as possible. The sense of urgency racing a triathlon is what has successfully gotten me to the age-group podium. This same sense of urgency has contributed to failures in my first 100 mile ultramarathon attempt and several other long runs in training. And undoing some of that urgency that has made me a competitive athlete is a very tall order to fill.

In my first 100 mile ultra attempt, I started out what I felt was an easy, 10 minute per mile pace. I was getting all my food and liquids in and felt solid for the first 40 miles of the race. Unfortunately, even a “relaxing” 10 minutes per mile pace was considered too fast for a 100 mile ultramarathon. I realized that at mile 25 of the race, when I was the 30th person out of 300 to reach the aid station there. While I thought I was running an easy race, I really wasn't because to be 30th meant that I was in with those who were running this race very competitively. The pace finally got to me at mile 50 when my legs started to stiffen up. Things got a lot worse through mile 60 when my Type A race mentality took my mood south, to the point where I was lashing out at my crew when I went off course at mile 70 and had to run an extra half-mile to get back on course. Finally, at mile 75, at the end of my mental rope and stiff as a board, I had to stop and quit.


What went wrong with my ultra?

I needed to assess what went wrong and how to correct it. First off, I needed to address my pace. If I ask any competitive runner in a club what a 10 minute per mile pace feels like, more often then not I would hear “comfortable” and maybe even “easy”. Then I did some calculations on what type of pace that might be expected to complete the race. Most 100 mile races have a 30 hour cutoff, and most have special awards if runners finish under 24 hours, so I can calculate the pace such:

30 hour finish:

Figure 2 hours for rest and aid station activity = 28 hours of running

So, 100 miles over 28 hours = 3.57 Miles Per Hour

Equals 16:49 minutes per mile pace.

Wow, 16:49 minutes per mile pace just to finish within the cutoff. I couldn't even fathom running this slow. Then I calculated the more ambitious time of 24 hours:

24 hour finish:

Figure 2 hours for rest and aid station activity = 22 hours of running

So, 100 miles over 22 hours = 4.55 Niles Per Hour

Equals 13:11 minutes per mile pace.

Even 13 minutes per mile pace sounds too slow to me. Yet, I realized that I HAD to go this slow in order to finish the 100 mile race and at a decent time. I had to develop a “lower gear” and run slower that what I perceived was the slowest I could go.

That wreaked havoc on my Type A mentality.

So much so, that last year I couldn't bring myself to run 30 miles on a training run last year. Attempts were made to run slower. But I felt like I was going nowhere. I lashed out and recited a few curse words in the process, unconsciously ran faster, then blew up spectacularly before completing the mileage. Wash, rinse repeat for subsequent attempts at the long mileage in training.

At the end of the year, I finally realized that my competitive Type A Mentality is killing me. So, what to do?


What is the classic Type B Mentality?

One of the things I did about 3 years ago was hike part of the Appalachian Trail with through-hikers. What amazed me about these hikers was that they were spontaneous. They only hiked when they felt like it, sometimes only hiking 5-7 miles in a day. They were totally relaxed, in the moment. They knew that they will reach their goal to complete the trail eventually, but never forced themselves to adhere to a rigid schedule or forced to push the pace faster than they wanted to. In other words, these hikers had classic Type B Personality. And those people were the most likely to complete their hike, not their Type A counterparts.

This, I realized, is what I needed more of to complete my 100 mile race.

Approaching ultras with a Type B Mentality

The approach to my long training runs this year is simple; practice relaxing. Stay in the moment. Don't anticipate the time when my run “should” be over. Have patience out there. And most of all, have fun out there. Keep one foot going in front of the other, even in times when things are looking down, and eventually the finish line will be crossed.

I purposely made my first long training run at Bear Mountain State Park, which has some of the toughest trails in the area. Since I knew it would be slow going during the run, it was the best time to practice that patience. Time to shut the stopwatch off and practice going slower than I have ever been asked to do.

The result is that I did very well. I ran over 29 miles over boulder fields, up and over countless mountains, and slogged through endless stream crossings in about 7.5 hours. A quick calculation would have given me a 27.5 hour finish in a 100 mile race. This is great, considering that the Vermont 100 Mile Ultra course is much easier than the trails at Bear Mountain.

I did happen to have quite a titanic mental war at times and resist the temptation to move faster, or bust it up a hill, or run fast going downhill. It is not easy slowing down this much. All competitive athletes have a “minimal speed” in which they feel the urge to accelerate when they feel are going too slow. It's quite understandable; in a normal training run, everyone feels they are not getting any benefits of training by going slower than that minimal speed. The Type A mentality is always alive and well during a normal training run. Think about it. Every time you go out there to do a training run, you know about what time you're expected to finish so that you can go on to do other things you need to do in life. If you start to run late, you might start fretting about it and maybe go at a faster pace.


A Different Approach to Planning for an Ultra Training Run

Doing an ultra training run, one has to do the opposite of the normal training run. I made sure I had the whole day to myself so that I can complete the mileage as fast or as slow as possible without interfering in other things. I turned off my stopwatch and forgot about what pace I “should” be doing. I stopped at certain times during the run, especially when I felt pressured to go faster, and forced myself to relax and soak in the scenery. All these things are Type B characteristics that are sorely needed in order to finish well in a 100 mile ultra.

And because of this mentality, I succeeded in finishing my first ultra training run of the year. I can only expect to get even better at this as I train toward my Vermont 100 Ultra this summer. Hopefully, mixing a good dose of Type B Personality with my Type A personality will be the winning formula that will put me at over the top, and at the finish line of this gruelling race.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Part III. What are the types of periods used in the Periodization model?

In Part I I described the nature of cycles. In Part II I detailed why most endurance athletes utilize the Periodization model to get the competitive edge in racing. In this last segment I am going to describe to you the types of cycles most use and how it applies to the exercise/recovery balance.

Types of cycles in a triathlon season:

Macrocycle - entire season
Mesocycle - periods lasting 3-6 weeks each
Microcycle - weekly periods

Macrocycle

The first type of cycle is the macrocycle. The macro- prefix means “large” and that is exactly what it is. The macrocycle typically refers to an entire racing season. For most, this cycle will be about a year long, although in special cases it could be longer or shorter. Olympic athletes might have a macrocycle of 4 years as they train for optimal performance from one Olympiad to another.

In this example, I will draw the macrocycle as a 1 year season:


The green segment is your recovery period in the macrocycle, which is about 2-3 months for the typical training regimen. After many months of rigorous training and peaking for your big races, you need to give your body and mind a complete rest from the sport altogether, for a period of time (likely about 2 months) during the offseason. After their big race, I've seen a lot of people "burnt out" after months of training. They definitely need to shift gears to other pursuits for 2-3 months. Once the recovery is over, athletes like you should approach their next season (macrocycle) with renewed vigor and a completely healthy body.

Mesocycle

The next cycle is called the mesocycle. Each mesocycle varies from typically 4-8 weeks, depending on the training plan. Every macrocycle will contain a number of mesocycles. Each mesocycle has a distinct theme and intermediate goals. Mesocycles should fit nicely into your macrocycle. I now add the mesocycle to the sample above:


Again, there is a green section in each of the mesocycles. Again these are recovery periods that need to be built into these time periods, just as we did with the macrocycle. Notice how the 5th Mesocycle in the sample is all green compared to the others. This mesocycle falls completely under the macrocycle recovery period (the offseason). This means that every week in that Mesocycle is a recovery week.By placing easy recovery weeks properly with your heavy training weeks, you provide your body a partially sustained recovery in each mesocycle. This enables you to be “fired up” and healed enough to put the most of your energy into your harder weeks, thereby optimizing your training.

Microcycle

The last cycle that I will describe will be the microcycle. This is usually a week in length and is a day-by-day planning aid to get you to your immediate goals of your mesocycle and hopefully your long term goals defined by the macrocycle. Each mesocycle will contain a number of microcycles. In the sample chart, I will draw in 4 microcycles (weeks) into each mesocycle:


The resulting chart shows three hard weeks and an easier recovery week for each mesocycle.

Let's take a look at a sample microcycle:

And how does the training/recovery balance fit into this cycle? In day-to-day planning, you place 3-4 “key workouts” into your week and try to maximize them. Because a lot of effort is typically required of these “key workouts”, recovery is needed on certain days so that you are amply recovered for your next “key workout” in the week. For example, you pushed hard a 30 mile bike ride on Monday. The intensity of this workout warrants a necessary 24 hour recovery on Tuesday so that you are recovered and full of energy for that tough 10 mile run on Wednesday.

To put it all together, here is how a sample periodization plan looks like:

With these cycles in mind, next week's blog will put it all together by developing a sample training plan from the ground up.

Periodization Defined - Part II

Part I: What are cycles?
Part II: How is Periodization Related To Cycles?
Part III: What are the Periods Associated with Periodization?

How is Periodization Related To Cycles?

The first part of this article describes the basis for Periodization and why cycles occur in nature. In this second part, we describe Periodization and its relation to natural cycles.

So we established that cycles are needed to achieve balance and strength in nature. If that is true, then wouldn't it make sense to apply Periodization to your training? You do want to do well in your key races this year, right? And in endurance racing one needs to get strong in certain areas to achieve his/her goals, right? So it makes perfect sense to incorporate cycles into your training plan.

The main cycle that you will need to maintain is a balance between the two critical forces of training, exercise and recovery:

PERIODIZATION:    EXERCISE<------------------------->RECOVERY

Exercise tends to break down the body when stresses are applied to it. Recovery is the ability of the body to heal itself to a point where it is much stronger. These two forces must stay in constant balance with one another in order to get stronger, faster, and healthier:


The chart above illustrates a sound Periodization training plan. Exercise puts a load or stress on the body and breaks it down. A good recovery will heal your body to a point better than before (called "supercompensation").

Unfortunately, many competitive athletes abuse exercise and neglect the recovery. This leads to an unbalanced condition where the body is broken down so much that leads to overtraining and injury. Ample recovery MUST be built in to the training plan for the body to rebuild itself stronger.

Periodization supplies the balance every sound training plan needs. As the name suggests, this balance is done through several periods (or cycles) of exercise and recovery. Planning workouts in this way allows the athlete to build in his/her rest and recovery in every period, and to allow the body to fully recover stronger from the stresses you apply through exercise. In the next segment, I will show you the types of periods or cycles that exist in this model.

Part 3 - What are the Cycles or Periods Associated With Periodization?

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Periodization Properly Defined - How To Correctly Design Your Triathlon Season



Part I ---------- Part II ---------- Part III

Most athletes have learned about the periodization approach to endurance training. But I have only seen few athletes really utilize them in the best way. This blog is to first define what periodization is, why it is the most important part of training, and how to properly plan your best season with it.

Periodization training involves periods, or cycles. Cycles are aplenty in nature. Can you name a few? Wikipedia surprisingly has an extensive list of natural cycles.

So the whole universe is run in cycles. Even if you just take a look around there are easy cycles to spot. There is the daily cycle where day follows night. There is a seasonal cycle, where we keep going through the natural progression of winter, spring, summer, and fall. You sleep to rejuvenate your body after an active day. Your computer monitor displays this blog by illuminating its pixels thousands of times per second (yes, there is a short amount of time in between where the your monitor is actually "off"). Cycles can even work over eons, as with the cooling and heating phases of the earth.

But why is everything in a cycle? Each and every one of these cycles is necessary to keep everything in a natural state of balance. Without them, we couldn't have balance, and imbalances would be very destructive to us and the environment.

Your body is just teeming with cycles, from biochemical to electrical. If you want to see a detailed list of your body's cycles, just pick up a biology or anatomy book; its very thickness tells you that there are many cycles running through your body right now. As stated before, you have a waking/sleeping cycle. Your body goes through numerous growth phases every day. Women have their menstrual cycle every 28 days. All the natural cycles that occur in your body provide the necessary balance needed to keep your body healthy and strong.

Cycles are constantly moving to keep nature, our environment, and our bodies in perfect balance. No one phase of the cycle can continue indefinitely; everything, especially people, need to shift to another phase of the cycle in order to keep harmonious with nature and to help keep ourselves strong.

The next segment will relate your Periodization training to cycles.

On to Part II