The End of the Line

May 5, 2013 //
0

We’re now in a little village called Tofo on the southern coast of Mozambique.  For us this is the end of the line, as far as we’ll be, both literally and figuratively, from our lives in Portland.  Today is the last of our nine days here and tomorrow we’ll begin the long slow retreat, first back to Maputo(the capital of Mozambique), then to Johannesburg, then Cape Town, and finally the multiple flights back to Oregon.

Tofo was the perfect place for us to finish up this trip.  Yoshimi found us a little cabana on the beach just 30 steps(we counted) from the warm Indian Ocean.  The place looks like something you’d see on a travel brochure for some idyllic tropical paradise and a total bargain for only $40 a night.  I could easily spend a month here hanging out on the front porch mindlessly watching the endless parade of waves.

When this trip began 8 weeks ago, I wasn’t sure what part running would play in my travels.  Sure, I was planning on doing the Two Oceans Marathon, but other than that I didn’t really know.  My goal was for the travel itself to take top priority and not let running get in the way of the journey.  But what I was surprised to discover is that running actually added to the trip in ways I hadn’t expected.

I’ve run almost day here in Africa and have been able to use these daily runs as a way to explore each new town, to connect with others and even to take care of practical matters.  Here in Tofo, for example, nowhere accepts credit cards and the closest bank is 4 miles away.  So every other day I run to the ATM and return an hour later with a sweaty wallet and 5000 meticals($160), the maximum daily withdrawal.

In Maputo, I’d set out each morning with a 10 metical coin in my hand so I could pick up a couple of freshly baked bageuttes along the way.  I must have looked like some kind of deranged bakery robber running through the busy streets with a loaf in each hand.  But that bread tasted so great after those hard morning runs.

The first thing I’d do upon arriving in a new town would be to strap on my running shoes and head out on an exploration run.  Along the way I’d keep an eye out for good restaurants, bars, cafes and posters advertising cultural events.  It’s a great way to get a feel for a place in a short amount of time.

When I’d come across other runners I’d always ask for some recommended local routes.  Two women in Windhoek training for the Comrades Marathon showed me a beautiful trail that led to the highest point in the city, with views stretching deep into the desert.  It’s something I never would have found on my own.

Here on the rural dirt roads around Tofo I make a point to say, “Bon Dia” (Good Morning) to everyone of the dozens of locals I pass as they walk to work, to school or to the cashew farms that surround the village.  A few ignore me, some reply with a shy giggle, but most smile and return the greeting.  Sometimes little kids in their school uniforms lineup to give me high fives or run alongside me laughing hysterically.  I feel lucky to have had these unique interactions.

I admit that there have been times on these daily runs when I felt tired, hot and dehydrated under the oppressive tropical sun, but then suddenly I’d look around and realize, “Holy shit, I’m in Africa!”  This is where humans first started to run and now thousands of centuries later the best runners in the world are still from Africa.  That’s all the inspiration I need to forget about the heat and pick up the pace.

This trip through Mozambique, Namibia and South Africa has reaffirmed the fact that travel is my first love.  I’ll always be a traveler foremost and secondarily a runner.  But this trip has also taught me that these two passions need not be separated.  I now know that running will be a part of all my future travels and that a pair of running shoes will always be an essential item in my backpack.

Categories Travel

Namibian Amphibian

April 26, 2013 //
1

I would imagine that most people would not be able to find Namibia on a world map.  This is not so surprising considering it is one of the newest countries (founded in 1990) and has a population of just two million people spread across an area twice the size of California.  It also has a stable economy, good infrastructure, a functioning democracy and a free press–rarities for most of Africa.

When our friend Karley was accepted into the Peace Corps and assigned to Namibia we promised her that we would visit.  We were not the only ones to make this promise, however after three years there she has yet to have a visitor from home.

This past summer while one break she crashed on our couch in Portland and after hearing the amazing stories about her life in this remote corner of the world we decided to finally follow through on our promise.  But let me tell you, this is not an easy place to get to.

First there was the 40 hour flight (including layovers and connections) from Portland to Cape Town.  Then there was the 22 hour bus ride to Windhoek, the capital of Namibia.  From there we had to catch a ride in a four wheel drive cargo truck that delivers supplies to remote outposts in the Namibian desert.

On the way the gas tank of the truck was damaged by a rock and for two hours we took turns filling up empty two litre Coke bottles with the leaking diesel while the driver chain smoked cigarettes a few feet from the tank.  It was a classic African travel experience.  After 10 hours on the back of that truck, I can’t tell you how happy we were to see Karley.

Her assignment for the Peace Corps is with a environmental education organization called NaDeet which is located on the private NamibRand Nature Reserve.  The reserve is surrounded by rugged desert mountains and bisected by huge red sand dunes.  An upmarket resort on the reserve is where Brad and Angelina stay when they come to Africa to adopt more children.

Every week a different group of Namibians arrives at NaDeet to learn how to make fuel efficient stoves, conserve limited water resources and cook using solar power.  It’s a wonderful organization and it was so cool to see some of the work that they do.

Just recently the NamibRand Nature Reserve was the first location in Africa to be certified by the International Dark Sky Association.  Luckily we were there during a new moon and the clusters of stars were so thick in the sky that they looked like clouds.  The Milky Way was clearly visible and we were actually able to see a black hole.  Even though there was no moon we could easily walk around at night without a headlamp.  I’ve seen the night sky in places like Tibet, Alaska and Patagonia, but have never witnessed anything quite like this.

I recovered quickly from the Two Oceans Marathon and have been able to maintain a somewhat consistent training schedule during our travels.  Karley showed me a 7 mile loop that she used to train for a half marathon.  The narrow red dirt trail twisted and turned through the savanna while herds of oryx, springbok and zebra grazed alongside.  One day a family of super cute bat-eared foxes scampered in front of me on the trail.  On another day I saw a giant secretary bird, which looks like the byproduct of an ill-fated threeway between an ostrich, an eagle and a chicken.  Running this trail every morning was pure bliss.

Our last night on the reserve was spent with Peter, a ranger on the reserve.  He’s an American expat who has lived in Namibia since the early 70′s and is one of those characters you only seem to meet while traveling.  He drove us around in his pickup and showed us some of his favorite spots.  Afterwards we had a barbeque back at his place, cooking up some kudu steaks and boerworst sausage and then finishing up the night with his signature cocktail, the Namib Coffee.  He wouldn’t give us the recipe, but it tasted like equal parts brandy, coffee and brown sugar.

After four days at NaDeet we were sad to say goodbye to Karley, but happy that we had the opportunity to visit her in this uniquely beautiful location.  We were also happy that we didn’t have to take that diesel-leaking cargo truck back to Windhoek.  One of Karley’s co-workers was able to give us a ride and on the way we stopped at the aptly-named town of Solitaire for some yummy apple strudel.

Next stop–Mozambique.

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Categories Travel

Two Oceans Marathon

April 14, 2013 //
4

“The cold can be dealt with my friend, but the wind…the wind is personal.”

I can’t remember where I first read that line, but I think of it often.  Any cyclist will tell you that a steep hill is preferable to a stiff wind and the same I feel is true of running.  The night before the Two Oceans Marathon it sounded like the wind was ripping the roof off the apartment where we were staying.  I laid awake in bed–my pre-race jitters getting ever jittery.

This year was the 44th running of this Cape Town classic and 11,000 runners from 74 countries took part in the 35 mile ultra marathon, while an additional 16,000 did the half marathon.  The race is always held on Easter weekend and serves as the traditional warm up for the 56 mile Comrades Marathon in June.  Only in sports-crazy South Africa would a 35 mile race be considered a warm up.

Comrades is the oldest and largest ultra marathon in the world and is on many South African’s bucket list.  It has a similar history and prestige as our Boston Marathon.  I would love to run Comrades someday, but the timing did not work out for this trip.  Oh well, I guess the 35 mile “warm up” it would have to be.

One of my biggest worries for the race (other than the gale force winds) was trying to figure out how to get to the starting line.  There was a 6:30 am suburban start with no public transportation available at that hour.  I left our place at 4:30 hoping to track down a taxi and not get ripped off in the process.  Luckily just as I was leaving the apartment building a car full of local runners pulled up and asked me if I wanted a ride.  It was a nice way to start the day.

Most South African runners belong to a running club and wear their club uniforms at races.  At the starting line it was fun checking out all the different club names:  the impalas, the lions, the elephants, the cheetahs.  I made a point not to try and keep up with the cheetahs.

At 6 am the national anthem was sung.  South Africa is called the rainbow nation and looking around I could see why:  black, white, Indian, Arab, Chinese and every possible combination thereof.  It felt like a meeting of the United Nations and was pretty cool to see.  The half marathoners then took off first, followed by us ultra runners.  As usual it was a relief to finally be going, movement itself bringing an end to the anticipation.

The first half of the race was flat, going south from the city along the coast.  The sun had just started to rise as I passed through Muizenburg, a little surf town where we had spent the previous week.  My goal was to not go out too fast, just keep it at a manageable 8 minute per mile pace and save some energy for the difficult second half.

I hit the halfway point at 2:16, felt great and started to attack the hills.  This section was the most scenic, going up and over Chapman’s Peak.  The wind had not been much of a factor up until this point, just a bit of head wind that could mostly be avoided if you stayed in a pack.  But now that we were on the Atlantic side (the second ocean) the wind picked up and was at our backs.  I felt like it was pushing me up the hill.  The views down to Hout Bay were incredible.  I could now see why they call this the world’s most beautiful marathon.

The winds shifted as we topped out on Chapman’s Peak and the gusts were strong enough to nearly knock you off your feet.  I put my head down and my hat in hand, but still had a big smile on my face.

Instead of cups the aid stations handed out little bags of water and sports drink.  I grabbed a bag at every station and carried it with me until I needed some nourishment.  It was fun to sink your teeth into it and suck it dry like a vampire.

I got the feeling that for many runners the Two Oceans was their first attempt at an ultra distance race.  After 25 miles many people looked absolutely spent and started to walk.  This is where a second steeper set of hills kicked in.  My goal was to just keep running, no matter how slow.  I passed dozens of the walkers and this provided motivation to push even harder.  I heard a few of shouts of, “Looking good, Shawn!”‘ and wondered how they knew my name.  It wasn’t until later that I realized that everyone had their name printed in their race number.

The last four miles were all downhill and were a fun, cruisy way to finish the race.  I tried to pass as many runners I could, hoping to break into the top 1000.  The final quarter mile was on grass with rows of stands filled with spectators cheering us on.

I finished in 4:36 and placed 651st overall.  The weather turned out to be perfect, the wind hardly a factor, and the support exceptional.  I grabbed a burger and a beer and sat down to cheer on the remaining runners.  My race was barely finished and already I was dreaming of returning to South Africa to run Comrades.

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Categories Race Report

Will Work For Wine

March 29, 2013 //
5

Now that summer is coming to an end, the harvest season here is about to begin.  Wait a minute, wait a minute, let me start over.  I completely forget that most of you reading this are in the northern hemisphere, unlike Yoshimi and I who are now traveling south of the equator in Africa.  We were both able to get leaves of absence from our jobs this winter and are currently on a multi-month trip through South Africa, Namibia and Mozambique.

We’re lucky to have jobs that allow us to take long periods of time off.  However, it’s a challenge to save up the money to pay for these extended trips.  Before leaving, we both picked up extra shifts at work and spent the last few months living on an extreme austerity plan.  We didn’t turn on the heat in our apartment at all this winter and quit eating out at restaurants.  We used frequent flier miles to pay for our flights to Africa and were able to sublet our apartment while away.  The final step to allow us to afford this trip was to become members of WWOOF.

WWOOF(World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) was created 40 years ago as a way for London city slickers to get a taste of life in the British countryside.  It has since spread to 99 countries and allows participants to work on farms in exchange for room and board.  It’s a great way to connect with locals, experience rural living, learn more about organic farming and travel on the cheap.

Before I arrived Yoshimi spent two weeks working on a small family farm near Knysna, South Africa.  Together we just finished up ten days of work at an organic winery in near Wellington.  Our days would begin at 6am with the crowing of roosters, the chirping of birds and the barking of dogs.  During our time there we picked olives, made fence posts, cleaned fermentation tanks, dried fruit, packed cases of wine and cleared brush.  The work was extremely physical and challenging for a cubical dweller such as myself.  But it was also satisfying and surprisingly enjoyable.  Everyday we worked up huge appetites and were deep asleep each night before 10pm.

On Wednesdays all of us volunteers would eat with Edmund and Elsie, the owners of the Fisantekuil farm and Upland Organic Estate winery.  They cooked up traditional South African meals like babootie, a dish that combines the flavors of Europe, Asia and Africa.  Many of the things we ate were produced on the farm including the delicious wine, brandy and grappa that perfectly complemented each meal.

Every evening after work I’d lace up my running shoes and attack the hilly dirt roads surrounding the farm.  Even though I was usually exhausted after a long days work, I was also inspired to push hard knowing that I was training on the same type of terrain as those Kenyan and Ethiopian champions.  The farm work and the rural running put the finishing touches on my preparation for this weekend’s 35 mile Two Oceans Marathon, one of the largest ultramarathons in the world.

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Categories Travel

Me and the Junkie

February 27, 2013 //
7

marathon

Two years ago, I set a goal to run a marathon in under 3 hours.  It was an ambitious goal, something that was probably at the limit of what I was capable of physically.  To provide some added motivation I decided to pick a race where maybe, just maybe, I’d have a chance of winning.  After doing some research I found the Pacific Crest Marathon, which usually has a winning time of just under 3 hours.  Was I cherry picking?  Yeah sort of, but ultimately the goal was to go sub 3.  The possibility of winning was just an added dose of mental motivation.

Before the start of the race, I walked around scoping out the competition.  Everyone looked about as nervous as I felt.  But to my relief no one looked particularly intimidating…except for this one guy.  Like many great runners he was short and all muscle.  He was wearing pink knee-high compression socks and a bright green T-shirt that said, “Running Sucks.”  This guy exuded confidence, cockiness even.

When the gun went off, he took off in a sprint and was soon out of sight.  Just a minute into the race and already I knew that my chances of winning had evaporated.  In a way it was kind of a relief.  Now I could just focus on the time goal and not on this ridiculous idea of winning.  The race went well.  I ran a 2:58 and finished in 3rd place overall.  The Running Sucks guy jogged in the last few miles and still won by ten minutes.  Supposedly he took it easy because he had another marathon to run (and win) the next day.  Who the hell was this guy?

marathon junkie

His name is Chuck Engle, but he’s also known as the Marathon Junkie.  He races almost every weekend and has won more than 150 marathons.  The interesting thing is that even though he’s a great runner, he’s definitely not at an elite level.  There’s no way he could qualify for the U.S. Olympic trials or finish in the top 100 at the Boston Marathon. Yet this a guy could win over 90% of all marathons…it’s crazy.

So, is he cherry picking?  I don’t think so, not if he’s winning the vast majority of the races he enters.  He knows that he can’t compete with the truly elite, so instead he focuses on winning smaller marathons.  Nothing wrong with that.  Wish I could do the same.  I’d love to win a race someday, but for that to happen it’s gonna have to be at a marathon without the Junkie.

birch bay

Last weekend I ran the Birch Bay Marathon up near the Canadian border.  My buddy Chuck and I drove up there together.  It’s a beautiful course, right on the water with views of a bunch of snow-capped peaks.  It’s a small town race and for the first time in a long time I thought maybe I had a chance of winning.  I try not to get my hopes up, but it’s kind of fun to indulge in the possibility.

The weather was perfect, low 40′s, no wind.  I trained hard through the winter and felt both strong and well-rested.  Chuck and I were warming up in the parking lot when a jeep pulled up with an Oregon custom license plate that read, “26.2″  Even before he got out of the car, I knew it was the Junkie.  There’s no escape from this guy.  It’s like he knows when that audacious thought of winning enters my head and shows up just to crush my ego.  Damn that Junkie.

Not that I really cared.  Once again it took the pressure off.  Now I could just focus on running a smart consistent race.  Beforehand Chuck and I agreed to both try to run PR’s (personal records).  Chuck would go for a 1:37 in the half marathon, while I’d try for a 2:57 in the full.  All I can say is that Chuck is a lot better at keeping promises than I am.

The race was super low-key.  The start/finish line was simply drawn in chalk across the road.  One of the aid stations was staffed by a mother and her two boys, who handed out little Dixie cups of Gatorade.  It rained a bit during the first hour, but in general the conditions were optimal.  I passed a few people early on and then ran the rest of the race alone.  Along the course there were probably more seagulls than spectators.

I finished in 3:01 and got 5th place overall.  Of course the Junkie won easily and was already on his way back to Coos Bay, Oregon by the time I finished. Chuck ran a 1:37 and set a new PR.  When he finally gets his Achilles fixed up, I’m sure he’ll shave a few minutes off of that time.

Afterwards we ate a couple of bowls of the famous African peanut soup at the Colophon Cafe in Fairhaven and paid a visit to Village Books, one of the great bookstores in the Pacific Northwest.  As far as I’m concerned I’d rather have a good time with a friend than run a good time in a race.  What do you think of that Junkie?

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Categories Race Report

2012: The Good, the Bad and the Ridiculous

December 31, 2012 //
1

2012clipart

This is the time of year when many runners dial back the mileage, partake in a few too many holiday indulgences and look back on the year that was.  Even though I had my share of struggles, 2012 was my best year as a competitive runner.  Here are some of the highs and lows:

Injuries:  I came across a posting on letsrun.com recently asking readers to share their goals for the coming year.  By far the number one response was, “to be injury-free.”  In no other sport are injuries as common as they are in running.  I bet even pro football players are injured less than runners.  I started out the year with a stress fracture in my lower right leg.  In June, I broke my wrist in a cycling accident.  I also had a strained tibialis anterior in my shin, a pulled muscle in my abdomen, and a couple of twisted ankles.

Am I doing something wrong?  Is running more than 50 miles a week bad for our bodies?  And the big question, why do we keep running if we’re just hurting ourselves?  Sometimes I feel like an unwilling participant in an abusive relationship and too much in love to ever consider leaving.

Want to know my number one goal for 2013?  To be injury-free.

Friends and Family:   My favorite races this year were not necessarily my best races, but ones where I ran with and had the support of good friends and family members.  In January, my brother Colin and I ran a half marathon in Florida.  He’s new to running (one of those Born To Run converts) and to see him set a new personal best was pretty awesome.  Also in January I ran a race in Forest Grove with Chuck, an old climbing buddy.  On the way home we stopped off for a well-deserved pint and a couple of our usual bacon blue cheese burgers.

Another friend, Greg was with me when I ran my first ultra in 2011.  This year I was lucky to have him as my support team at the Siskiyou Out Back (SOB) 50K and at the McKenzie River 50 miler.  In April, I fulfilled a lifelong dream to run in the Boston Marathon.  It was extra special having Yoshimi there to share a pre-race lobster dinner and a post-race Red Sox game at Fenway.  Running long distances is solitary pursuit.  Races should be used as an excuse to socialize with those we most enjoy spending time with.

Second goal for 2013: More races with familiar faces.

Adventures:  For me races serve several purposes.  They’re a competitive outlet, a motivator for everyday training and a setting to see how far and how fast I can run.  This year, however, I realized that you don’t necessarily need an organized race to have those same goals met.  You could just pick one of the hundreds of beautiful trails here in the Pacific Northwest and set off on a self-supported run of your own.

This past summer I did 30+ mile solo runs on the Wildwood Trail in Forest Park, the Eagle Creek/Wahtum Lake loop in the Columbia Gorge and around Mt. Hood on the Timberline Trail with my ultra running mentor, Jon.  On these self-supported runs there’s no pressure or expectations, just a full on wilderness adventure buzz.

Another goal for 2013: Less races, more adventure runs.

The Big One:  Last year on New Years Day it was cool and crisp with a rare winter appearance of that great fiery ball in the sky.  As I circled my way up Mt. Tabor I decided that my big goal for the year, the Mack Daddy, would be to run a 100 mile race.  From that point on, all the training I did over the course of the year was in support of that single goal.  My race schedule was structured systematically (10k, half marathon, 25k, 30k, marathon, trail marathon, 50k, 50 miler, in exactly that order) to slowly build towards the Javelina 100.  That may seem a bit anal, but I knew that running that far should not be taken lightly.  Everything went according to plan, expect for one aspect, the post-race recovery.  Afterwards I was both physically and psychologically spent.

To work towards one goal for so long and to accomplish it is truly a wonderful thing, but it also leaves you with a certain emptiness after the fact.  For most of November I completely lost the desire to run.  I didn’t want to think about running, talk about running or write about running.  I realize now that my body and mind needed a break.  The exact same thing happened last year around this time.  The mind has a curious way of turning up or down our desires to suit the needs of our bodies.  But not to worry, my friends, the brain has started pumping up the volume once again and my passion for running has now returned.

Reminder to 2013 self: Set big goals and then take big breaks.

Miles and Miles:  Three weeks ago I realized I was just 150 miles away from hitting 2000 miles for the year.  It hadn’t really been a goal of mine to run 2000 miles this year, but it’d be a shame to finish just short of that oh-so-sexy 2000 mile breakpoint.  So I decided to run everyday until the end of the year.  Some days were brutal: cold, wet and windy.  Others were pure joy.  The good being so much better after a bit of the bad.

Today is the last day of the year and I’m just a couple miles short of 2000.  It feels great to be so close and to have run so far.  Maybe I’ll wait until 11:30 and then do a few victory laps around the neighborhood.  Yoshimi can join be for the last 100 yards.  We’ll run with beers in hand and finish just as the clock strikes midnight.

Final goal for next year:  2013 miles in 2013, a 0.65% increase!

Happy New Year.

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Categories Uncategorized

Javelina 100 Endurance Run

November 9, 2012 //
6

fur-ther   adverb   1. at or to a greater distance.  2. at or to a more advanced point.  3. the psychedelic bus populated by the Merry Pranksters and immortalized in The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test.

On October 28th at 5:44am, I could go no further.  For almost 24 hours I’d been running up, down and around Arizona’s McDowell Mountain Park.  After 101.4 miles(nearly half a million steps), I could finally stop.

Someone handed me a belt buckle and gave me a place to sit.  I knew I should eat, drink and stretch, but all I wanted to do was curl up in my tent and sleep.  At that point I felt no joy, just relief to have finally finished.

It’s been over a week since I returned from Arizona and it’s taken awhile to process the whole experience.  I’ve been asked lots of questions since I gotten back and I’ve finally wrapped my head around some of the answers.  Here are my thoughts.

Why would anyone want to run 100 miles?

Good question, one I often asked myself at Javelina.  I signed up for this race because I was looking for a new challenge and one hundred miles in one day had a nice symmetry to it.  It sounds like a long way to run and it is a long way, but with proper training and the right mindset, it’s a distance that anyone can complete in a single day.

Did you run the whole time?

Some 100 mile races are more runnable than others. The Javelina 100 takes place on a relatively smooth trail with lots of rolling hills, but nothing too long or steep.  I ran about 95% of the course, only walking the rocky sections at night.  A few of the top competitors ran the whole race, while others walked quite a bit.  To be honest, I wish I would have walked more to give my running muscles a break.  Towards the end I was passed by a walker and realized:  A)  Walking can be more efficient than running.  B)  Damn, I’m running slow.

What did you eat?

It’s important to have a consistent fueling and hydration plan.  I tried to take in 100 calories every 20-30 minutes, mostly by eating energy gels/bars and munching on fruit at the aid stations.  I alternating water and Gatoraid in my handheld water bottle and took salt tabs every 2 hours to keep my electrolytes in balance.  When I got burned out on the energy gels/bars, I starting eating a piece of pizza every few hours.  It was a well-needed injection of carbs, protein, fat and calories.  You can probably imagine how good it tasted.

Was it hot?

This was the 10th annual Javelina 100 and this year was the one of the hottest ever.  The temperatures got into the low 90′s and even though it was a dry heat, out in the desert there is no shade to protect you from the sun.  At times I felt like the vultures were circling overhead as we struggled through the afternoon heat.  Of the 400 starters only 160 finished before the 30 hour cutoff, a finishing rate of just 40%.

What did you think about?

Through I didn’t really make a conscience effort to do so, my mind for most of the day was almost completely empty.  I didn’t think about my time or the distance or the heat or the pain.  I was somehow able turn off the random thoughts in my head and focus only on eating, drinking and moving forward.  Towards the end, the mix of dehydration, hunger, exhaustion, and sleep deprivation created a real psychedelic experience.  The shadows caused by my headlamp and the full moon made the saguaro cactus look like other runners.  It was pretty trippy.

One of the coolest things for me was to see all the different kinds of runners at Javelina, various shapes and sizes, ages and races.  Most of the participants were in their 30′s and 40′s, yet surprisingly there was more in their 50′s than in their 20′s.  There was even a handful of runners in their 60′s and one 70 year old guy from San Diego.

How did you train?

If you want to run a marathon, there are dozens of books that will tell you exactly what you need to do to get to the finish line.  In comparison, there’s very little information available about training for an ultra.  The only book I could find is called Relentless Forward Progress (a good mantra, by the way) by Bryon Powell, who started the popular irunfar.com website.  In the last few months I bumped up my mileage to about 60 miles a week, ran 50k and 50 mile tune-up races, and did a couple of all-day runs in the Columbia Gorge and around Mt. Hood to get used to being on my feet for extended periods of time.  It’s also important to make sure that all of your equipment and fueling/hydration systems are dialed in.  Something as simple as a blister or a cramp can jeopardize the whole race.

What would you do differently?

Many of the runners had support crews and pacers to help out during the race.  Yoshimi was in Japan visiting her family, so she wasn’t able to come with me to Arizona, so my support team was made up of just my amigo, Lobo.

Just a couple of lone wolves, me and Lobo.  During the race I was fine on my own, but it would have been great to have someone help afterwards with packing up camp, driving to Phoenix, dealing with all the motel, restaurant, rental car and airline stuff.

Would you do it again?

The pain is still pretty fresh, so it’s a bit too soon to say for sure, but yeah, I probably would at some point.  Javelina takes place in a beautiful desert setting and its 15.4 mile loop course made things logistically easy for a 100 mile virgin.  If I do run another 100 miler, I’d like to do a race on a more aesthetically pleasing point-to-point course in a dramatic mountain setting like the Rockies or the Alps.

To see the sun rise, then set and then rise again, all while running through the Sonoran desert was a unique experience I’ll never forget.  It was amazing to be part of a community of runners who set lofty goals and put in the time and effort to realize those dreams.  In the last few days the soreness in my muscles has finally subsided and the relief I felt initially has since faded.  Now all that remains is a lingering glow of joy.

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Categories Race Report

Zen & the Art of Happy Birthdays

October 18, 2012 //
4

“Birthdays was the worst days.  Now we sip champagne when we thirst-ay.”  –Biggie Smalls

With no disrespect to the Notorious B.I.G., I’ve always felt that birthdays are the best days.  Holidays must be shared with all, but birthdays are unique to the individual (and the roughly .27% of society that shares your date of birth.)  When I first met Yoshimi, she informed me that we would not just be celebrating her birthDAY, but her whole birthWEEK.  This somehow evolved into two, then three weeks and eventually into the whole month of July, which she renamed Yo-ly.

For some reason I’ve had less success instituting Shawn-tober onto the calendar.  I do, however, try to do something special every year.  For me it’s not about parties, presents or sipping champagne Biggie-style, instead I try to seek out some sort of unique experience.  I’ve spent Octobers in Ireland, New Zealand, India, Turkey and Argentina.  My thirtieth birthday was spent drinking yak butter tea at Annapurna base camp in the Himalayas.  On my fortieth, I was laid up with a black eye after getting hit in the head with a portable shrine at a harvest festival in Japan.  Last year we took the Amtrak cross country, stopping off in Montana so I could run my first 50 miler.  It’s fun to try and come up with something new every year.  For 2012, I decided to go big.

Though I’ve run for most of my life, it was just a few years ago that I realized that there are races longer than a 26.2 mile marathon.  These “ultra” distance races make up a very small, yet quickly growing segment of endurance events.  As opposed to your typical marathon, ultras are usually run on trail in distances of 50K (31 miles), 50 miles, 100k, and the granddaddy of them all, the 100 miler.

Most people are surprised that races of these distances exist.  They would be even more surprised to learn that there are now 97 races in North America that are 100 miles long.  What’s crazier is that dozens, sometimes hundreds of runners compete in these events, many of which are held at elevation, on technical trail, through deserts and over mountains.  It’s like some sort of cult and somehow I’ve been brainwashed into becoming a member.  October 27th will be my initiation ceremony at the Javelina 100 in Arizona.

These 100 mile races are a uniquely American invention that started out as a horse race across the the Sierra Nevada in California.  In 1974 Gordy Ainsleigh, after having to drop out of the previous years race because of problems with his horse, decided that he would try to run the entire course instead.  He managed to finish just under the 24 hour cutoff time.  For his effort, he was awarded a silver belt buckle, the same prize given to all successful riders.

A few years later, Western States officially became the world’s first 100 mile running race.  The WS100 is now the most prestigious ultra distance race, kind of like the Boston Marathon of ultras.  To learn more, check out this trailer of a documentary made about the 2010 WS100.

I’d love to run Western States someday, but thought I better start off with one of the “easy” 100 milers.  The Javelina 100 is held each year during the full moon in October.  This year there will be nearly 400 participants, some who will be dressed up for Halloween.  I guess it’s not tough enough for some people to run 100 miles, they gotta get dressed up like Spiderman to make it more of a challenge.

The race is run on cactus-lined desert trails in McDowell Mountain Park, about an hour outside of Phoenix.  All runners who finish under 30 hours will be awarded a wild pig belt buckle.  I’ve never had one of those giant Texas-sized belt buckles, but if I’m successful at Javelina, I’ll be proud to show off my wild pig.

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Categories Travel

The Rules of Running

September 23, 2012 //
3

Last year I ran my first 50 mile race.  This was nearly twice as far as I’d ever run previously and I had no idea what to expect.  Understandably, I was a bit nervous beforehand, however, there was a certain bliss to my ignorance.  Before my next 50 miler, I knew exactly what to except and just how much it would hurt.  The bliss had faded.

That second 50 miler was two weeks ago in central Oregon.  In honor of its 25th anniversary the organizers of the McKenzie River Trail Run (MRTR) decided to add a 50 mile option to go along with their usual 50k race.  I ran the 50k last year and had so much fun that this year I decided to up the ante.  However, about a week before the start of the race, doubts started to creep into my head.  Fifty miles now seemed like a ridiculously long way to run.  Maybe signing up for this race was a bad idea.

To ease my nerves, I sat down one morning with a french press of Nossa Familia coffee and made a list of my goals for the race.  The simple process of sorting out my motives and committing then to paper made me feel better.  Here are my eight commandments for the MRTR:

Start Slow:  Going out too fast may be a considered a beginner’s mistake, but everyone, even the pros, fall into this trap at some point.  The adrenaline is usually pumping at the start of a race and as a result “too fast” does not feel that fast at all.  Luckily the MRTR started at 5am, which meant that the first hour and a half would be in the dark.  I’ve never done any trail running with a headlamp before, so starting slow would probably not be a problem for me.

Have Fun:  A few hours into a long race, when you’re huffing up a big hill, sweat pouring down your face, stomach cramping up, blisters brewing between your toes, you’re probably thinking, “there’s got to be a better way to have fun.”  But you have to remember the big picture.  You’re in nature, far from the city and that little cubical where you work forty hours a week.  You’re on a beautiful trail surrounded by old growth forest and glacier-fed streams.  All you have to do is run.  I can’t think of a more simple and enjoyable way to spend the day.

Control Competitive Instincts:  Being super competitive has allowed me to accomplish many things in life.  However, there are times when I wish this fuel burned with a little less intensity.  I strive to do well in every race I run, but caring too much about the result makes it difficult to enjoy the process.

Thank Volunteers:  Ultra events always seem to have the best volunteers.  They fill up your handheld water bottles, help you find your drop bags, and tell you that you’re looking good, when clearly you’re not.  Many of them are ultra runners themselves, so they understand what it’s like to try and function with a carb-depleted brain.  I always make a point to thank them at every aid station, but sometimes I forget when I slip into a zombie state at the end of a race.

Run Smart:  There are many components that go into running a smart race.  Starting slow (#1) and controlling competitive instincts (#3) are a couple, but you also need to have a consistent fueling and hydration plan.  In addition, you must be able to adapt to the current weather conditions and adjust your race strategy accordingly.

Check Out The Scenery:  Two weeks before the race, Yoshimi and I along with a friend on break from the Peace Corps camped along the McKenzie River.  We hiked several sections of the the course and I was blown away by the beauty of this amazing trail, most of which seemed new to me despite the fact I had raced here in 2011.  This year I would make a point to be more aware and to better appreciate my surroundings.

Smile:  This one might seem simple, but it’s easy to forget.  I feel lucky to be healthy enough and fit enough to run these types of races.  When I’m out there alone, cruising along on a silky smooth trail, the morning sun just starting to filter through the trees, I feel that there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing and no where else I’d rather be.  Why wouldn’t I smile.

Finish Strong:  We’ve all run races that looked good on paper (fast time/placed well), but without a strong finish, you know in your heart that something was missing.  To finish strong, it’s important to run a smart race (#5), but you also have to remember that a little bit of extra suffering in the end is much preferable to the regret of knowing you could have done better.

So, how did it all play out?  Well, my buddy Greg and I drove down there on Friday and camped at the same spot we did last year.  It’s one of the best car camping spots in the state.  But don’t even think about poaching our turf cause I already have it booked for next year.

Running the first ten miles in the dark was tough.  It required a lot of mental energy to move at a consistent pace and avoid all the trail obstacles.   Psychologically, I felt better once the sun started to rise.

All day long those eight commandments bounced around in my head along with a depressing Tom Waits song that I just couldn’t seem to shake.  ”A Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis” has to be one of the least motivating songs ever written, but for some reason today was the day it decided to get lodged in my brain.

I ran with three other guys for a couple hours.  Time passed quickly as we chit-chatted about this and that.  For the first half of the race I cruised along at a comfortable 10 minute per mile pace, but then decided to crank it up a bit.

The second half was pure fun, maybe because I remembered to smile, check out the scenery and joke around with the volunteers at the aid stations.  I started to run out of gas towards the end, but was able to hold on and really push it the last mile.  Wouldn’t want to forget that last commandment.

I finished in 8 hours 27 minutes and got 9th place overall.  The 50 miler was won by a 16 year old kid form Corvallis in 7 hours 12 minutes…crazy.  A big thank you to Greg for his support and for taking these photos.  I’m already looking forward to doing some more trips together next year.  Just have to remember to put together a list of commandments for every race from here on out.


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Categories Race Report

Round the Horn

August 31, 2012 //
4

I moved to Portland in October of 2000.  For my first six months here the city was socked in with a near perpetual grey funk.  On the rare occasions when the gloom curtain lifted, I can remember being mesmerized by the shimmering appearance of Mt. Hood on the eastern horizon.  Unlike Rainier or Shasta, Hood comes to sharp point at the top and is almost perfectly symmetrical.  If you ask a little kid to draw a picture of a mountain, I bet it’ll look like Mt. Hood.

For most of the last decade I was obsessed with mountain climbing and for me Hood was my classroom, my training gym and my playground.  I’ve probably spent several weeks camping and climbing its many routes.  During that time I discovered that the best way to view the mountain is not by climbing up it, but by hiking around it.

The Timberline Trail was built in the 1930′s by the Civilian Conservation Corps.  The 41 mile trail circumnavigates Mt. Hood, passing by the historic Timberline Lodge, Cloud Cap Inn and Mt. Hood Meadows ski resort.  It is one of the most beautiful trails in the Pacific Northwest and people come from all over the country to hike it.  Most backpackers take 3-5 days to do the loop.  The challenge is not just with the distance and altitude, but in the 10,000 feet of elevation that must be gained and lost.

I hiked the trail a few years ago and got passed on day three by a couple of guys who were running the whole trail in a single day.  All they were wearing were shorts and a T-shirt and carrying handheld waterbottles.  It seemed incredible to me at the time that these guys could travel so light, so far and so fast.  This chance encounter forced me to readjust my perceived limits.

Last month one of Yoshimi’s co-workers at New Seasons asked me if I was interested in joining him on a one day run of the Timberline Trail.  I’ve known Jon for about a year now.  He’s the only one I know personally who runs and races more than I do.  Occasionally we’ll get together for a few beers to talk about this goofy sport of ultra running.  Unfortunately, we have opposite work schedules, so we’ve never been able to train together.  A trip around Mt. Hood seemed like a good place to start.

Almost immediately after agreeing to join Jon, I began to have my doubts.  Circling the mountain in a single day would be a serious endeavor.  There would be snow fields to cross, route finding challenges, difficult stream crossings and a full day of exposure to the elements.  Jon would be fine.  He’s a veteran of several 100 mile races.  It was me I was worried about.

To ease my nervousness, I started doing some research.  There’s a cool website called Volcano Running that provides information about running around several of the major volcanoes in the Pacific Northwest.  Until Mt. Hood become a national scenic area, I learned that there used to be an annual race around the mountain.  In 1982, John Coffey set the couse record in a blistering 6 hrs 24 min.  I also happened across the blog of local ultra running stud, Yassine Diboun.  Last summer Yassine along with several other trail running hotshots ran the Timberline Trail in ten and a half hours.  He said it was a casual pace, but my feeling is that “casual” for these guys would be way fast for me and Jon.  The rest of the photos in this article were taken by Joe Grant on that trip:

My estimate was that it would take us about twelve hours, nearly the full allotment of daylight.  So I picked up Jon at 4am and we arrived at Timberline Lodge just as the sun was starting to rise.  We walked behind the lodge to the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) sign which marked the start of our route.  I love the PCT.  You can go south 2108 miles to Mexico or north 550 miles to Canada.  Three countries and three states connected by a single trail.  Not easy, but simple, clean and pure.

We both touched the sign for good luck and then started off at a slow jog.  There was no need to hurry.  It would be a long time before we’d be seeing this sign again.  For the first eleven miles the Timberline Trail and the PCT share the same route.  It’s mostly all downhill until Ramona Falls.  We chatted about past and future races and talked about our favorite elite ultra runners like a couple of little boys discussing their baseball heroes.  Before I knew it we were at the 10 mile point.  It took us just over two hours.  I can remember thinking, “we’ll easily finish this thing in under 10 hours.”  I laugh now at my naivety.

After the split with the PCT the trail became more technical and involved more uphill sections.  There were also some difficult stream crossings.  We tried to avoid getting our feet wet, but sometimes there was just no avoiding it.  Jon carried two handheld waterbottles.  I had a small hydration pack and one handheld.  We filled up the waterbottles at each stream crossing.  We didn’t filter the water since it was mostly high altitude glacier melt–almost too cold to drink at first.  We didn’t bring much in the way of food, just a couple of energy bars each and a bunch energy gels.  We hit the half way point at five and a half hours.  Maybe that sub-ten hour finish was a bit ambitious.

The north side of the mountain was incredibly beautiful:  crystal clear alpine lakes surrounded by meadows filled with multi-colored wildflowers. We ran with big smiles on our faces and sometimes had to stop just to take it all in.  We only saw a few other people, mostly backpackers weighed down with giant packs.  Just a few years ago I was in their boots, but now I was liberated–free to move fast and light.

The first major challenge was the Elliot Creek crossing at mile 27.  The trail was washed out here in 2007 by a huge landslide.  I’ve heard talk of a suspension bridge being built, but that has been delayed by the inevitable bureaucracy.  There are two options for getting through this section: climb up along a ridge above Elliot Creek, cross the Elliot glacier, then hike back down the other side.  Or downclimb the washout, cross Elliot Creek, and then scramble up the other side.  The second option seemed quicker and easier.  It was neither.

At the point where the trail washed out someone had put in a rope, not a real climbing rope, but a tattered laundry line.  This thing wouldn’t have supported the weight of a wet sock, let alone a falling body.  We wasted more than an hour and a lot of energy getting down, over and up the other side.  We were relieved to have gotten safely across, but were pretty wiped out in the process.  Unfortunately, the next 3 miles were all uphill, gaining 2000 ft to the highpoint of the trail at Lamberson Spur(7500 ft).  It was the hottest part of the day and we were completely exposed to the sun.  The trail was either too rocky to run or completely snow covered.  We power-hiked this section, barely talking at all.  I stopped looking at my watch.

At Lamberson Spur, we took a break, fueled up and emptied the grit out of our shoes.  We both caught a second wind and cruised through the next several miles on the smooth fast downhill trail.  It felt good to be under tree cover again.  There were more difficult stream crossings, not as bad as the Elliot, but still raging at this time of day.  At this point we were both too tired to rock hop across and instead would just plow on through, soaking our shoes in the freezing water.

All the snow was gone at Mt. Hood Meadows ski resort and you could actually see the namesake meadows.  We ran under the abandoned ski lifts.  It felt weird to see something man-made and mechanical after a long day of experiencing only the natural.  After crossing the many branches of the White River, we had just a two mile uphill slog to the finish.  At first glance Timberline Lodge looked like castle backlit by the setting sun.  The last mile was a tedious push through sand-like silt and that lodge never seemed to be getting any closer.  Eventually we saw some tourists snapping pictures of the mountain and then the PCT sign.  We both touched the sign, thanking the trail for a safe journey.

In the 13 hours and 10 minutes it took us to circle the mountain, it felt like we had experienced several weeks worth of stimuli.  We started just as the sun was rising and finished right before sunset.  On August 15th, we were able to squeeze all the energy out of our bodies and every last bit of light out of the day.

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Categories Trail Review
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