It's a Boulder Experience

Here in Boulder, we love our sports, the outdoors, food, our meditation and Christmas is the perfect opportunity to celebrate something of ourselves and Boulder. For many, a short run on the fresh snow from Christmas Eve would be a perfect way to greet the day. Indeed, in many cases that would be my primary choice as well, but as I’m settled into 30 days of yoga, a yoga practice would be the more perfect choice for me on Christmas day.

The Little Yoga Studio in central Boulder seemed to be the only yoga studio in town offering a group practice, so that was where I went. More than thirty of us showed up for this donation based class with funds going towards Western Resource Advocates. This class was to be led by Valerie D’Ambrosio, the founder of the Hanuman Festival here in Boulder, so somewhat of a yoga celebrity in Boulder. As we’re all getting ready, I see someone who looks like Scott Jurek, one of the top ultrarunners in the world, walk in and set up his mat. While I didn’t know many others my name, I seemed to recognize other well known Boulderites as well.

The class itself was amazing with Valerie inviting us to celebrate ourselves and our commitment on this day of offering gifts, either to ourselves or others. In the middle of the class, Valerie put on a couple Christmas classic songs and sent us off dancing. Another great way to celebrate movement and joy together!

I suppose this whole experience would seem odd to many, but

this is Boulder – yoga on Christmas, seeing amazing people, dancing.

Who knows what will happen next!

ps. After class I introduced myself – and sure enough, it was Scott Jurek.

Humbled

At the end of the running in Africa, I had badly strained my right Achilles, and my left one wasn’t too happy either. Since returning more than 6 weeks ago, I hadn’t run until a few short runs last week. It’s felt good to rest my body and listen to the necessary rhythms after having a rather phenomenal year of running and adventure.

Sunday’s are when the Mindful Runners meet. Where we go and how far we run vary depending on the weather and time of year. It’s often a pace where everyone stays together, we enjoy each other’s company, and relish in the experience of where we are. I hadn’t run with this group for more than 2 months, since before leaving for Africa and missed running with them. Today I decided to stretch a little bit, run a little farther to see how my legs were doing, and catch up.

The run for today was a trail running up to the Flagstaff amphitheater from the backside off Boulder Canyon. It’s up all the way there and then a pleasant return downhill. I started off slow letting my body, my legs and Achilles warm up. About halfway up I suddenly that the realization of how slow I was actually moving and how humbling this experience was. Over the summer I’d run this hill several times and felt strong. The experience today was quite different – it was one of knowing the deep reservoirs held inside, but ones that hadn’t been used in weeks. It was one of feeling my experience more deeply, sinking into the feeling of just being out and just running. And it was one of humility. While I certainly would have loved to have run faster, I enjoyed the humility and the slowness to take in the Boulder mountains deeply.

As I start running again, I imagine this feeling of humility will arise again so I run my favorite trails, but with a different idea in mind. For that, I’ll just enjoy the run!

Roof of Africa Run - Stage 4

Stage 4 - The Farms

To Simba Farm

38km / 23mi – 3500 feet vertical, 6:45

This morning as we awoke we could already hear kids coming to school – it was before 7. Soon enough they were all assembled, doing warm up exercises – including head, shoulders, knees, and toes in Swahili and English. And then they were off in groups for a morning run chanting and smiling. Another of the amazing experiences we witnessed this trip.

For us, the first few miles we warmed up on a gravel road continuing around the northern part of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Simon seemed to believe today would be a shorter day and so we took our time for the early part of the day. After those early miles on the gravel road, we began an ascent into and through farm fields. That’s what we would see the rest of the day – farm fields. Today we would run through and along four very large (multi-thousand acre) farms. The warmth we experienced early on seemed to dissipate both as we climbed in elevation and light clouds covered the sky. After yesterday’s heat, I found today’s coolness refreshing and really woke me up.

For the most part of this trip we were pretty isolated from what was happening in the rest of the world. There were no TVs that we passed anywhere, or newspapers of any kind of scan. The Tanzanians had cell phones, but nothing like the smartphones commonly seen in the US. A few of us had phones, but mostly they were used to send short text messages since air time was relatively expensive. Andrew, though, had his phone going almost continuously as he communicated with his camera crews who were preparing for other assignments. It was at one of our water stops today that we received just a few bits of news. We heard two headlines – Armstrong stripped of his titles by the UCI, and Obama pummels Romney in the second presidential debate. On the second bit of news, we were a small cheer thousands of miles away from the action. Both made for a few bits of conversation as we headed down the trail.

After the slow morning, Simon realized this day was going to be a bit longer than he had thought, so we began picking up the pace a little bit and keeping stops shorter. We still had plenty of daylight left – in fact I don’t think any of us were worried. By now we had come to accept that the day could be long or short – all we had to do was keep moving and enjoy ourselves.

One of my favorites trails of the whole run was on this day. After we had peaked at around 7000 feet we began a slow descent along tractor trails along the fields. Soon enough we were on the acreage of Simba Farm. At this point we began what I think was a 15-20 minute descent on the smoothest, windiest, downhill of the whole route. If you like mountain biking this would be awesome. On foot, I felt just as awesome flying downhill, planting my feet in the corner berms, and riding the wave of fun all the way down. It was steep enough to be effortless, but not so steep that using the quads to brake was needed. What a blast!

Today was also the day my body decided to wake up! Having done many multi-day events before, I know it usually takes my body 3 days to warm up. And it was warmed up now. Halfway through this day my body changed gears and suddenly I had new energy and a smoother gait. I just motored along the second half of the day.

After our 23 miles of farm land and rolling terrains we arrived at Simba Farm where we would be treated to beds and hot showers, not to mention the beautiful grounds and amazing views of Mt. Meru across the valley. The dining table was outside under a canopied roof looking over the same green grass, plentiful flowers, and grace of Mt. Meru.

We ended the day with another amazing dinner family style, this time with some other guests at the Farm, including a couple from Vancouver who would be heading to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro the next day. At this point we were halfway done and it seemed we were all feeling pretty good!

Roof of Africa Run - Stage 3

Day 3 – The Easy Day

32km/20mi, 1200 feet of climbing (2400 feet descending), 4:45

This was another day of complete contrast the first two. Today we would run around the northern part of the flanks of Kilimanjaro. In the morning we ran through some pines forests. Pine is not a native tree, but they grow it here and harvest it. It felt completely odd to be running on a bed of pine needles in Africa!

For most of the day we would run on dirt roads. We passed through many Masai villages, we saw many farms and the people working their farms. Today would be the day we would run past and through many small herds of cows or sheep being herded down the road – either to market, or back home, or to another feeding area. Today we would see the most evidence of the water situation here, especially at lower elevation (I think we ended at about 4500 feet). All day we would see people, mostly women, walking to town with their plastic buckets to get water. In the towns we would see the well and all the people there waiting to fill their buckets to head home again.

Today would be the hottest day, and I really felt it, especially with no shade for most of the day. After about three and a half hours of running, we stopped for our snack/lunch break. I could feel the heat and knew I needed to keep moving – so I went on ahead with Sigfrid. After two long days I hadn’t fully recovered yet and so my pace was slow, but I could keep moving. I figured we had anywhere from an hour to two hours left of running before reaching camp, so for me this was a case of mind over matter. I just kept moving – when I stopped I would start to get light-headed. I knew I wasn’t dehydrated or slow to heat stroke, but I was definitely overheating. I’m still amazed as what the human body can go – with or without willpower.

After I finished, I drank a ton of water and kept taking in electrolytes. I pulled out my watch from my bag which showed a temperature of 90 degrees – thank goodness we were finished. As I lay in the tent for the next 3 or 4 hours I tried to keep myself cool and positioned in the breeze that was blowing. By the peak of the afternoon heat my watched showed 99 degrees in the shade. So much for all the wool clothes I had brought!

This night would be spent on the grounds of a school. We had arrived in the early afternoon and we were treated to watching the kids line up after school. They would sing the national anthem and do some exercises before heading home. It was truly an honor to be witness to this experience.

From the school we could see a long ways – towards the northern plains and Mount Meru, and of course an amazing view of Mt. Kilimanjaro. This was one of the best places to see where electrical was and wasn’t. Once it turned dark, there were very, very few lights anywhere within our view.

Despite how rough I felt during the latter part of the run, and how long it took me to recover, I still feel completely amazed to be here. I felt a lot of gratitude for the run, the people, and all the experiences that have brought me here. I realize I’m probably repeating myself already – but this truly is an amazing place and an amazing run.

Roof of Africa Run - Stage 2

Back to Running

32 km/20km -5:30 hours - 3000 feet vertical

Samanga to Rongai, in the northwest part of Kilimanjaro

Today was an entirely different run than yesterday. In some ways it felt like we were in an entirely different region. After all the up and down yesterday over the various ridges we only had a few of those today which meant that much more of the route was runnable. As much as I love being in the mountains, I also really like to be able to run.

The first couple hours we continued to see many villages and many people. We ran through a lot of wide open growing fields. The openness offered a view towards the mountain, but the top was obscured in clouds most of the day. Looking the other direction, we had amazing views over the plains that stretch away from Mt Kilimanjaro, and on the mountains miles away.

The people we see are always so friendly. They come out from their houses to see us run by, sort of like at the Tour de France or something like that. Somehow they seemed to know we were coming. The would say Jamboree, which is hello I Swahili and we would respond with the same. The three Tanzanians would often say more. Several times yesterday and today we would have a crowd with use for a several miles, just tagging along. Sometimes it felt they were putting in no effort at all while we were running along.

We saw a lot of cabbage, maize, tobacco, avocado.

The second part of the day we started to get away from some of the villages so saw many fewer people. We ran through areas that are used for growing and harvesting trees. We would run through these amazing pine forests with a bed off pine needles on the forest floor which was so soft to run on.

Despite being a shorter day time wise, I definitely felt the distance and time running. It doesn't seem too hot here, but the sun and the warmth definitely affects me, that seems to be my biggest challenge so far.

The running is a little different as well - I've done perhaps a dozen runs of 20 miles or more this year, but none longer than about 3 and a half hours. Here we're stretching to 6 hours or more.

The other unusual aspect is we have no idea how far we've run or how far we have to go. We can estimate somewhat based on how long we've been running, but we still have to be prepared for a long day. I was expecting runs to be 4 or 5 hours, not 6 or 8, so I've had to adjust. It's just a different mental space.

The finish today was at Rongai.  In fact where we finished we could see the sign for the border with Kenya. No big welcome today, just our own crew and runners offering each other much deserved congratulations and high fives. It was still a day to celebrate!

Roof of Africa Run - Stage 1

32km/20mi, 8 hours, 5900 ft vertical

Mbahe to Samanga

Before I write anything else, I have to say this is absolutely amazing!! I know it's only been a couple days of being here and just 1 day of running, so perhaps it's premature, but I doubt it.

I've been many places in the world and at dozens of events big and small - this ranks among the top. The running, the views, the people, the trails. Wow!!!

Today is the first day of the Roof of Africa Stage Run around Mt Kilimanjaro. the inaugural run. It began with a hearty early breakfast at 6:30. Then final packing and we headed off for a short walk to a tree planting. Simon was part of a program to plant trees near a natural spring in the village. The trees will serve to stabilize the land, support the spring, and generally keep the human activity near it to a minimum. After the speeches, we all helped plant some native trees.

The next stop was the Marrangu gate to the Kilimanjaro park. This was sort of the official start to the run. We all lined up for pictures and an official go!

The crew is small, Steve from Hawaii, Krissy from Boulder, Andrew the photographer from South Africa, Jerry from St Louis, Tim from Minneapolis, Simon, Edi and Ziegfried feromTanzania.  It's a great group and similar paces it seems - we stayed together the whole day.

Throughout the day we had amazing views, either up the mountain when it was clear and we could see that direction, and out to the plains and the mountains around the area. Just beautiful. We frequently had our cameras out.

Most of the day was lots of up and down, straight down into these steep ravines or canyons, and the straight back up the other side. This meant for a slow day, but beautiful. Lots of walking. It all added up to almost 6000 feet of vertical. The last canyon of the day we dubbed Jurassic canyon after Jurassic Park- it just looked like that.

Our favorite canyon though was mid afternoon with what seemed like the steepest longest descent and ascent. But it was beautiful. Going down it was narrow enough in places that it was only a half shoe wide. There was one tall tree sticking up, and still it was dwarfed by the depth. We also saw our first baboons scamper across the bottom as we descended. When we reached the bottom we found an amazing waterfall cascading down several levels,a with vines, moss, tons of green.

The whole day was green - everywhere! Stunning. Never the same though. Open fields, a small pine forest, banana forest, fields of plants, close cover running. A lot of it seemed like we were running cross country, almost making our own trails.

Notes for later, film crew, the half mile between kili and villages,kids running with us, seeing people all the time. Working 9 to 5- that was our running time. Kenny Rogers the gambler in the middle of nowhere.

One of the most amazing pieces of the run was the finish for the day. We came into a small village where our camp was set up. There was several hundred people welcoming us. Amazing and unexpected! Once at our campsite, we swapped high fives among ourselves and then with the dozens and dozens of kids watching. The kids were a captive audience for a long time as we cleaned up.

What a day! And this was only day 1!

Running as a Microcosm of Life

"When you think about it, the idea that running might teach you something about life shouldn’t be too shocking. In a fairly obvious sense, running is life made small. A run has a beginning and an end. There are obstacles to overcome, good days and bad days. You pass some people and get passed by others. There are tests and challenges, disappointments and achievements, days you feel you have nothing left to give and other days when you feel you can go forever… Running for me is a special activity. It brings value to my life while at the same time it teaches me how to value it…. Running makes me a better person. Running, for me, is transformative. I have learned self-discipline and patience from running. I have also learned how to compete with grace, and how to face hardships with optimism."

-Larry Shapiro, "Zen and the Art of Running"

Running to Kansas

I love running the mountain trails around Boulder, to gain elevation and be in the trees and dance on the rocks and over the roots.

I also thoroughly enjoy a run on the open space trails around Boulder as well – the Gunbarrel and White Rock trails, the Boulder Valley Ranch, some of Dowdy Draw, and especially Marshall Mesa. Marshall Mesa was the trail of choice this morning as I run the full loop.

One of the reasons I like running Marshall Mesa is that there are spots where the only thing around you is grassland. If you look west you’ll see the mountains, if you look south you may see the windmills of the National Renewable Energy Lab. But otherwise there are places with no civilization in view. It’s quite remarkable.

Many times when I’ve run this trail I feel open and energized in this wide open area – I love wide open areas. And the thought comes, I want to run to Kansas across the high prairie and grasslands of Eastern Colorado. When I get to Kansas, I imagine myself saying why stop, let’s run the farm fields and open space of a wide open Kansas all the way to Missouri.

It will probably never happen, but I love the thought.

TransRockies - Stage 3

Stage 3: 24.3 miles with 2700 feet of climbing from Leadville to Camp Hale. Lowest elevation is at the finish of 9200 feet with a peak elevation of nearly 11,000 feet.

I'm a little nervous for this stage. This is a long one and we're still at elevation. At 8:00am we begin Stage 3 running right down the main street of Leadville - 350 of us filling the street. It's chilly being at 10,000 feet still.

The first few miles are on road to get to the trails. My body is sore, particularly my hips and quads. I won't know much about how today is going to go for another half hour until I warm up; until then I have to be patient and listen to my bodily clues. At the longest, I'm expecting today will be near five hours - quite a long run for me. Even at a good run of maybe 4:15, it will be a long run for me. I want to pace myself.

I've run this stage before and know that most of it is runnable. There are still some steep sections that need walking, but for the most part it's runnable, both up and down. After turning off the road and onto trails and forest roads, like most days we start with climbing, though today it's only a 1000 foot climb to start with. I go back and forth between walking and running, smiling and greeting each runner as I pass. Again I'm further up in the pack seeing new faces and leg. The first downhill after 5 miles is a nice change - the legs are warmed up and I'm feeling alright. The downhill isn't too steep and I just float along. It does feel like I could run faster downhill if I had some downhill training or stronger quads.

The first aid station is at 7.2 miles and I pass through in about 70 minutes again grabbing a Coke and some Twizzlers. For the race I'm carrying plenty of gel and food as well as 2 quarts of water so I rarely need to stop long at the aid stations. I'm quite thrilled with the time for the first segment, and a little worried because it might be a bit fast considering I still have more than 3 hours to go.

From the first aid station it's a long, easy ascent over the next 5 miles. We pass through open, wetland areas, into the trees and denser forests. Most of this section is runnable and it's quite cool to be able to keep running uphill even at this elevation. Surprising to me is that I'm still catching and passing runners. It's also a little worrisome since these again are runners I haven't seen before - maybe I'm pushing too hard and won't have anything left for the finish. Still I feel like I'm running conservatively so I keep the pace and enjoy the running.

Aid station 2 is at Cooper Mountain Ski Area above Tennessee Pass. I pass through 14.3 miles in 2:26 - just slower than a 10:00/mile pace which I consider awesome. I fill up my water pak, grab some Coke and continue on. The volunteers out at these aid stations are awesome - ready to help in any way they can. As I do at each station, I yell out a thank you as I leave.

Hmm - 4 hours. 10 miles to go, with most of the climbing down - maybe I can do under 4 hours. No rush yet, there's still 10 miles to go.

Leaving this aid station I can see about 10 people in front of me. It looks like a good group to run with for awhile. After crossing Tennessee Pass we head onto the Colorado Trail - a beautiful singletrack. Soft ground, smooth with not a lot of roots or rocks. A steady, shallow downhill running with 3 other people - a team and a woman running the Run3.

We hold a nice pace for awhile and then turn off the Colorado Trail towards a high meadow which we follow for awhile. At some point in this stretch I pass several more people. I thought they were right behind me, but a few minutes later they seem to be gone. I'm feeling great running through the meadow and on this singletrack. Somewhere in here I pass 3 hours - somewhat of a milestone for me because that's around where most of my training has been. Into new territory here again. Still at least an hour to go.

We cross Highway 24 and onto more beautiful, rolling, singletrack. My legs feel good, my body feels good, quads are still sore - still I'm quite happy and enjoying the run. Several times during the past 4 days I've clipped my toes on a rock or root - not in any danger of doing a faceplant, but it kept me aware. This stretch went back and forth between open, clear trails to suddenly a few big rocks or roots to watch out for, and then open again. My attention had wavered and then I caught a rock. Yikes! My head went up looking at the trail in front, my arms went back for balance, my stride went really long and wild - this could be bad! And then the save - I'm caught my balance and I'm running smooth again. Yikes! I need to pay attention.

The last aid station of the day is about 3 miles from the finish and I pass through at 3:32. My pace has been amazingly consistent throughout the day and I'm completely thrilled at the pace, distance, and time. A quite pass through for Coke, I walk for a couple hundred meters to catch my breath and ready myself. 3 miles of basically flat left with two small bumps. I know the route having been here four years ago - and the last 3 miles seemed to take forever.

4 hours though - just 28 minutes and 3 miles. Could I break 4 hours? I'm going for it. I found a good, steady form and pace and keep moving. I only had my watch, no mileage, so I could only go by feel. I felt really good. A turn, some downhill, I can see the finish - 8 minutes to go.

The finish - yes - 3:58 (an hour better than 4 years ago). The Stage is down and my TransRockies Run3 for 2012 is done.

My best stage yet - I feel like I'm just getting warmed up so to speak. And I'm ready to be down. To recover for my next adventure in a couple months - an 8 day run around Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Thanks again to everyone for such an amazing event!

TransRockies - Stage 2

Stage 2: 13.4 miles with 3200feet of climbing from Vicksburgs over Hope Pass to Twin Lakes. Lowest elevation is at the finish of 9200 feet with a peak elevation of 12500 feet at Hope Pass.

Stage 2 is an entirely different run from Stage 1 - it's a monster straight uphill, followed by a fast descent. And we've reached new heights, literally crossing past 12,000 feet.

Being in a valley and at a higher elevation, the starting temperatures at near 50, which is perfect to me. Again a rolling wave of people ease off at the start line to Highway to Hell. The first two miles are on a road to get the runner spread out before the ascent begins. I usually take 20 minutes or more to warm up so this road start helps me to get the blood moving before the tough stuff starts. My legs are sore, and still feel good. I'm ready for a good run today.

The climb up Hope Pass starts soon enough. From the south side which we are going up, it climbs about 2800 feet in two and a half miles, or an average of more than 20%. It's steep! It's at altitude! And more most people it's pretty much a walk/hike up. There are a few that can run it, but not many. I'm content to walk with a group of people and even with that group I slowly move forward bit by bit. I'm seeing new runners today and I'm pretty sure I'm farther up in the pack today. The lower part of the climb is almost all a beautiful forest of Aspens - really beautiful. As we ascend we cross boulder fields, we reach the thinning evergreens, and eventually are above treeline. Above treeline, we can see the 1000 feet to the pass and the line of runner stretched across the switchbacks. Even as the elevation increase, I'm keeping a steady, strong pace.

The top is amazing to look north and see Twin Lakes, Leadville, and the headwaters area of the Arkansas River. To the south I can see all the runners behind me and the Collegiate Peaks Range stretching south. Amazing and beautiful. It's a bit chilly up here so begin my descent quickly. I've covered that 2.5 mile climb in an hour.
In the next 4 miles we will descend 3000 feet. While the descent isn't as steep as the uphill, it's a challenge. The legs have to make a quick switch from powering up to controlling speed on the downhill. The top is quite steep with some switchbacks making it difficult to get a fast rhythm. As we head down into the trees again the ground is moist and soft - perfect for running. Still you need to pay close attention as there are roots and rocks everywhere. Still it's a blast going downhill! This is one of the reasons I love trail running - it requires full attention to watch every step and be ever present to your body. By mile 9 we have done most of the descending - and my quads are toast!

The last four miles are beautiful - fairly flat and rolling along the Twin Lakes. Soft ground, neat trails, thinner forests. Winding trails. Who wouldn't want to be out running on this?

But my legs are tired and I can feel it. I was starting to catch a few people, but now they are gone. I'm definitely seeing runners I didn't see yesterday. My pace is slowed but I'm still running. I'm starting to learn ultra-speed; that is how to keep running (or maybe the term is shuffling) at a slow, steady pace. That's where I am - ultra-speed making my way to the finish.

I finish in 2:38 - a little bit slower than I had predicted and yet entirely happy with this run. Four years ago this course was similar, but shorter at 10 miles and then I ran 2:43.

The post-race tradition of soaking in cold water continues in Twin Lakes. It feels good on the body. It's also one of the many places on the race to just start a conversation with those enjoying the water as much as you are.

After three long days of running in the last four, I'm starting to feel quite good. My body likes the distance. I'm ready for the last stage.

TransRockies - Stage 1

Stage 1: 20.8 miles with 2500 feet of climbing from Buena Vista, CO, to the Old Railroad Bridge park. Lowest elevation is at the start of 7900 feet with a peak elevation of 9300 feet.

Stage 1 is known for being hard and hot. It's hard because for many the elevation is a significant difference from where they live and train, and because it's the first stage. The body is ready to go and yet you have to gauge your effort for a week of running.

Despite the elevation at over 8000 feet, it's also usually hot, often in the 80s by the end of the stage, and also because there's very little shade on this course. The area around Buena Vista seems like a high desert even at these elevations. The ground is quite dry and dusty. The trees are short and stubby, often looking twisted by winds.

Even living in Boulder, I remember how challenging the first stage was 4 years ago when I ran. This was a different course - longer and with much more elevation, so I was prepared to start slow and easy. After running a trail marathon two days earlier, it was even more critical for me to start slow. Listenting to that experience, I placed myself towards the back of the pack in the starting chute - ready to run.

The gun went off exactly at 9:00am with Highway to Hell by AC/DC blaring, that song being the traditonal start song played for every start. With that, we were off. There was no rush off the line, this was an ultra after all. Quite different from a traditional race where everyone makes a quite start. Not so here. It was as if we were all going for an easy, long run.

After about a half mile on pavement we crossed a footbridge over the Arkansas River and being our ascent on singletrack. All at once with 350 runners trying to get the same place, we were single file and walking. To me this is perfect - a slow, easy beginning. After another half mile or two, we emerged on a forest road heading uphill. It's a little cooler than normal this morning after rain the day before and I settled into a nice rhythm. Slowly I begin passing people and with each one offer a 'nice job' or 'good morning'. In a few miles we are on a singletrack again and really start heading upwards. Still I'm making good progress. At mile 7.5, we've reached the peak elevation for the day at 9300 feet and this is where the first aid station is. I believe I passed through this in about 80 minutes which I've very happy with. I grab some Coke and water and keep moving.

The sun is edging its way up in the sky and I'm starting to notice the heat a little. Most of the next 4 miles is downhill and I just float along enjoying the pull of gravity. Through this stretch I'm starting to settle in with a group around me. We pass each other - some faster and smoother on the downhill, some capable of a faster uphill. I'm feeling comfortable and running well, not pushing it at all knowing there's still a ways to go today and two more days of running. The next stretch is rolling trails, some singletrack, some ATV trails, some forest roads, all still dry and dusty.

At mile 17 we reached the last aid station and we are back near 8000 feet on a road that parallels the Arkansas River. I am near the 3 hour mark, which has been a benchmark for me for training, so I'm now stretching my normal marks. The last 4 miles for the day are tough - a gradual 1-2% steady uphill, a noon sun, no shade, and some tired legs. I do a lot of walking even in this last stretch unable to find a good rhythm to hold on to - either too fast or walking. I worry a little bit that the other days will be like this feeling like this on Day 1. Still I know this is one of the tougher days.

After 3:28 I finish holding a 10:00/mile pace. Meanwhile, the first runners have cruised the course in under 2 hours - amazing! I've done well and am happy with my run. I had much better pacing and intentions for this run, especially after the last run which was such a challenge.

It's traditional to fit the nearest cold water and sit/stand in that for 20-30 minutes after the stage. Sort of like nature's own ice bath to cool the body and flush the legs of the soreness. Today it was the Arkansas River right at the finish. It's quite a sight to see so many people just sitting in cold water, but it really does feel good.

I'm happy with Stage 1 and ready for Stage 2 over Hope Pass.

TransRockies Run

The TransRockies Run has just completed its sixth year of being run. The original TransRockies is a 6 day mountain bike race in Canada and through demand, the run was added. In total the run is 6 stages totaling 120 miles and over 20,000 feet of climbing all in the central Rockies of Colorado. The event has grown from a couple dozens teams of two, to over 350 runners, about 100 running the first 3 stages solo, the rest on teams. As I heard several times on the event, it's summer camp for adults!
This year was the second time I've run in it. The first time was in 2008, the second year of the event, on a team, and this year I ran Run3 which is the first three stages solo. I came back because this is an AWESOME event!
Everything about the event is superb! To begin with, it's fabulous to run in the Rockies in the summer with great weather, cooler temperatures, cool trails and roads - and above all the views! There are so many spectacular views along the course, the best probably being on top of Hope Pass at over 12,500 feet where you can look south along the Collegiate Peaks Range to north and seeing Twin Lakes, Leadville, and the Arkansas River headwaters area.
The event organization is amazing. I've talked with the event organizers and they use the image of duck on a pond; on the surface everything looks smooth and easy, but under the water, the duck is paddling away. So it is with this event, they make everything look smooth, even with whatever glitches are happening, and they always do. I've organized big events like this and they do it well. The food is great, there is a shower truck to get cleaned up after running, they setup and take down tents, they transport all the luggage, there is massage available. Every night after dinner is an awards ceremony which includes more than just the winners of the day with awards like King and Queen of the Day. There's also photos and videos from the day. All in all, an amazing production and well done.
Truly what makes this event is the people, which includes the event staff and the runners themselves. The event staff during the run now numbers almost a hundred people and every one of them is friendly and so supportive of everyone. The organizers are great people who really want everyone to have a fabulous experience and seem to go out of their way to ensure that happens. The runners are from all over the world and it's easy to meet and talk - on the run, over dinner, on a shuttle.
For many people, this event is a stretch, even to run 3 consecutive days of trails at altitude. Regardless of your ability though the cutoff times are ample enough that the entire course can be walked and you'd still be a finisher. If you've ever wanted an adventure, this is one to truly consider! Will I back - most certainly!

There are days

There are days when it's more challenging than excepted. Today was one of those days.

Today I ran my third marathon ever at the Honey Stinger Trail Marathon in Steamboat Springs. It was a very well organized event with beautiful and amazing trails. It's no wonder Steamboat is so great for mountain biking. I finished a tough trail marathon course. I feel like I have joined a new club.

Still not my best day. I know they happen. They have happened in the past and they will happen again. It wasn't terrible, in fact in many ways inspiring with many strong, solid moments. I have had so many fantastic runs the benchmark seems pretty high now. 

Today was just simply challenging. Some was my fault like not drinking enough water. Some not, like three tough nights of sleep in a row. Some of it was doubt, like what was I doing out there running at all? Some of it was not being well recovered from the last marathon. Some was not being as prepared and as focused as I can be. Wanting to be fresher and run more - I ended up walking a bunch on sections that were easily runnable, but the body needed the walk. There was never a thought to quit, though perhaps wishing it was over sooner.

Most for this was written in my head during the run, but as I sit here actually writing it down, I feel so much differently. It is so true how memory and perception change so quickly, and reflection and choice are so significant.

I recall a challenging run. A beautiful run. Ferns and lush underbrush like you'd see in the Northwest. New things I tried that worked well, like Using Tailwind Nutrition products and carrying my prayer beads. Inspiration - seeing Lance Armstrong on the start line. A body that struggled and held up well. I'm proud of the run, even with the doubts that still linger in my head.

Often there is a point that stands out from a post or a run. Today it's nothing specific, just thoughts and feelings from another run, one I'm happy I did.

I love/hate Coca Cola

I'm not a big fan of soda, but my preference is Pepsi, a taste acquired as a kid.

On a long run or long bike, there's nothing like a cold Coca Cola!

Flexibility – keys to agility and speed

Do I have your attention now? Most people would like to go faster I’m sure, so let’s get down to it.

Almost every book on sport, whether its running, swimming, cycling, hockey, etc, will talk about the importance of stretching. It’s usually one of the first chapters with some guides and visuals to help you along. Stretching certainly does make a difference as it helps the muscles and body stay looser, move blood, and get us ready to run (or swim or ..) or helps us recovery. There’s also plenty of scientific evidence to back this up as well.

I have to admit I rarely stretch. I walk out the front door and usually run right from the front step. If I have to wait for my Garmin to locate satellites I’ll do a little, but only a minute or so. I’m just anxious to get to the main event. I will also freely admit that when I do stretch and do it consciously it feels really good to slow down and feel the body. It’s another great feedback mechanism. Even better for me is going to a yoga session where there’s a combination of listening, stretching, strength, and focus.

What about speed you’re asking …

When I ran the Tunnel Marathon a few weeks ago I felt great until the last four miles when both calves and my right hamstring cramped up. In a matter of seconds my form went all to hell. I went to a nearly straight legged run (which for me is hard to do) to keep my legs from bending and cramping worse. With a straight legged run, my hips twisted in weird ways and that cascaded up my back to tight shoulders, a stiff neck, and a rough armswing. Not only was this very uncomfortable, but my speed dropped as well. For almost two weeks after the marathon my legs were still very sore and I could feel the residual nature of the cramps. My form wasn’t as bad, but it was similar.

What occurred to me while in this awkward form was how limited my range of motion was and how severely that affected my form, and therefore my speed. When I can bend my legs, extend them back, and lean forward with my upper body, my form is quite natural and I can almost pick almost speed I want. If I can’t bend my legs, or push off, or have limited upper body motion, my stride can only be short, and that’s never good for speed.

As I’ve loosened up and recovered from the marathon, the looseness has come back. And just as easily the ease of running is back in place. And while I’m still tired, it’s somewhat fluid to find a good speed.

The other part of this is agility and this is more aimed as trail running. On a trail, it necessary to watch the trail and constantly adjust stride for rocks, roots, puddles, or whatever else is in the trail. If you’re loose, your agility is much greater and it’s much easier to bound around to find good foot placement. I accidentally took a trail in the first two weeks after the marathon that had lots of rocks and really needed that ability to bound around. Being still sore and tight, the trail was very difficult even to the point of walking at some points. So again it comes back to looseness in the body.

Off to stretch – after all I like running fast, especially down fun trails. After all this is about Dancing with the Dirt!

Seven Days in Utopia

This is about Utopia, Texas – and golf. Rather it’s a movie about golf in Utopia, Texas. And there really is a place called Utopia, Texas, and there really is a golf course there. For all I know about Texans, I’m sure the people that live there truly believe it’s their own Utopia.

The movie is about a professional golfer who had a horrible tournament. After the tournament he’s meandering on backroads driving home when he nearly hits a cow in the road – guess where, near Utopia. It’s going to take a week to fix his car. So he spends 7 days in Utopia.

In turns out there’s a retired professional golfer in Utopia who coaches the young golfer over those seven days. Each day is a different lesson about how to play the game. It’s not necessarily about technique, but about focus, determination, visualization. It’s all about sports psychology and ways to better yourself as an athlete, whether you’re a golfer or participate in any other sport.

After the week in Utopia, the golfer heads to his next tournament where he demonstrates all that he learned in Utopia. He ends up in a tie-breaking hole after 4 rounds. On the very last putt he has a chance to win the tournament. It’s great drama for a movie. As the golf ball rolls across the green heading towards the hole, the movie ends. As much as I wanted to know if the putt went in, I loved the ending because it points at playing the game, being the athlete, being in the adventure of sport, and not about winning or losing.

The movie is a good movie and I enjoyed it. I have to say there are some better golf and sporting movies out there, and I really liked the way this one was done. The movie is also a showcase of Dr. David Cook’s philosophies and teachings about sports psychology. The movie ends with a link to the website http://didhemaketheputt.com/. This is where you can see the trailer to the sequel and discover for yourself some of Dr. Cook’s techniques.

If you like sports movies, this one is definitely worth watching. You might just pick up something to help your sport of preference!

A Slower Rhythm

Since running the Tunnel Marathon several weeks ago, I’ve been in recovery mode. I had read and heard many times that after running a marathon, recovery can take four weeks or more. I have to say I was a little skeptical and disbelieving, but not without reason either. For all the ultracycling I did, recovery came pretty quickly, and really it had to be quick because long events were sometimes just two or three weeks apart. The difference is the intensity – I raced the marathon, whereas the cycling was paced and also knowing there was another ride coming.

This has been another new phase of learning and patience. My body really has wanted to slow down, and even sleep a lot. I’ve had a couple of massages since the marathon as well and both really moved a lot of soreness out of my body. Even the desire to go running is reduced. There is still desire and there’s also my body quietly speaking its own voice of ‘not today’.

I have been out for a few runs, probably just two a week. For the first couple, I felt like I had someone else’s legs. My stride was awkward and stiff, armswing was shortened, I felt like I was running flatfooted. Forget about any kind of pace either, it was just simply slow, or at least slow by my standards. Still I could appreciate that I could still run. The runs the past couple days have finally extended to over an hour again. Still quite slow, or at least they seem so. I’m not running with a watch because right now it’s not a focus. What I’m finding again is simply the need to listen to my body and what it needs, and certainly speed is nowhere on that list.

With a slower flow of the run, I’ve also had the chance to again find the meditative quality of the run when there’s no particular focus like pacing. Even on this morning’s run I was really able to find a deep peace in the run, I even stopped for a few minutes in the middle of the run on the top of a hill, faced the sun, and meditated soaking in the new day.

The marathon was amazing, and even intense. Recovery has been another surprising journey as well, even with its own concentration on a slow, easy rhythm. So despite the usual fullness of summer, I am quite enjoying a relaxing beginning. That beginning will surely lead to more running joy as well.

A different kind of wall

When you read about marathon running, it’s fairly common to read about ‘the wall’. ‘The wall’ usually being somewhere around mile 18 to 22 where there is a significant drop in energy level. As I’ve read about the wall, the distance of 18-22 seems about right given that the body will run out of normal carbo stores around that point. It’s also the point just beyond most training plans. Most training plans stop around mile 20, so it’s no wonder the body does a double-take around the point of reaching new ground.

I felt like I’d done enough long runs, both distance and time, to avoid the wall. My longest run was about 3:15, so longer than my actual race time. That run was 24 miles, so not quite as long as the race. I’d done 6 runs of more than 20 miles and 3 runs longer than 3 hours. During those runs I worked on nutrition as well to ensure my stomach could tolerate food during the race. Even during the race I kept up my water intake and ate almost 250 calories an hour of mostly Hammer Gel.

Still, come mile 22 I hit my own wall. I wasn’t out of energy – I felt good. My mind was still functioning well – I know because I could still do math in my head including calculating average pace. But there it was, my legs, more specifically both calves and my right hamstring, quite quickly were in a near-cramp state. Perhaps it was the effort and pace, perhaps it wasn’t enough salt intake (though I had plenty of that too), perhaps it was new territory. Anyway - there I was.

Now what? I hadn’t prepared myself for hitting a wall. I went through the strategies I knew. I tried focusing on breathing. I tried sending breath and energy to my legs to relieve some of the near-cramp. I tried mantras. I tried gritting my teeth. I tried ignoring it altogether. Connecting to nature. In some ways each helped a little, or at least I was able to keep my legs from cramping full-on. Almost – I did walk once for about a minute, though running actually felt easier. I did stop once and stretch my calves, and then I was off again. The near-cramping was such that it significantly altered my stride and my form – shorter strides with very little knee bend, a stiffer back which translated into stiff shoulders. Not pretty.

And then there was grace and peace. Twice in the last 4 ½ miles, I felt a grace and peace come over me. Both episodes lasted about ¾ of a mile and for those few minutes my mind was completely quiet, my legs though still hurting were softer, my stride opened up just a little, my pace smoothed out. During the race I wasn’t really aware too much of what had happened, only on looking back do I recall much. There was a surrender and letting-go to just running, forgetting about time, distance, cramping, breathing, or any other technique – just running. I don’t know how it happened, I just know it did, and it wasn’t even my doing. It just was.

This isn’t the first time I’ve experienced such ease on a run, though I’ve never been in this much discomfort on a run before either. Perhaps it was simply what my body knows from practice, when I stop ‘thinking’ and just am the spirit of running.

For most of the race I felt a great ease – letting my body be the guide of pace and effort, breathing and rhythm. There was no trying. It was only in the last 4.5 miles under duress that I went back into my head. Of course I could lament not letting go more in those last 4 ½ miles and that would deny the experience. It happened and I learned from that as well.

Our bodies really do know, more than our mind does, we just have to accept that grace and peace that’s always there and run with it!

What's next?

That’s the inevitable question that comes up after finishing a big event – what’s next? Sometimes it’s in our own heads, more often it’s from friends.

So first off – what’s next is RECOVERY. It would be good to be able to walk normally again, to be able to go up and down stairs without leaning heavily on the railing (or taking the elevator), even to just be able to run a few steps.

I used to be in a place where very soon after finishing a big event, the question of ‘what’s next?’ would pop into my head. I seem to be past that stage now. Still I know for many people it an can an unquenchable thirst; reaching one milestone and immediately wondering and chasing what the next one will be. It’s also not uncommon for some people to fall into a depressive mood for a while after finishing a big event. After all, they’ve spent months and months preparing and getting ready for an event, with so much focus on it, and then suddenly it’s over and no next thing to focus on. What’s next becomes the obvious question.

For me, I can certainly think of many possibilities – running a marathon with not such a fast time goal, running an ultramarathon, even shooting for that sub-3 hour marathon, or running faster in shorter events. This marathon was about as perfect as I could imagine, so if I never ran another marathon, I’d be thrilled with this one. At some point I will likely pick one to consider and maybe even do (probably the ultramarathon).

For now though, I am going to relish the experience and aftermath of this marathon. For now, I’m going to relax and recover, and then go out and enjoy all the Boulder trails just to enjoy the trails, to dance with the dirt, be outside, celebrate the body – and do it with no goals in mind whatsoever. That’s what’s next.

3%

That’s the difference between my marathon time of 3:06 and running a sub-3 hour marathon. Just 3%.

Being so close to the magical sub 3-hour mark, my mind has wondered there. In some ways the difference between a 3:06 and under 3 hours seems huge and in some ways it seems like very little. It pure terms of numbers it’s a 14 second per mile difference from 7:06/mile to 6:52/mile. Not much really for just 1 mile, but it seems like a lot over 26 miles.

In major competitions, the difference between first, second, and third place can sometimes be measured in seconds or even less. The difference being 0.1% - a tiny fraction of a difference. The Tour de France cyclists race for over 80 hours and the difference between first and second is often just a few minutes, even less than 0.1%. To that measure 3% seems huge.

I’ve trained well for the past 6 months. I pay attention to what I eat and nutrition. I do my best to get a good night’s sleep. I stretch (sometimes) and have done yoga for some core strength and flexibility. I get bodywork; I have a recovery drink after almost every run. I pay attention to form. I’ve done pacing work and endurance work. So it is no accident that I had such a good race. Much of this is just the way I live.

There’s also the rest of life to live from all the little things that are so enjoyable and refreshing like hearing birds upon waking to all the little nuisances – oil changes for the car and such.

I’ve lived well, and turned it into good training and a nearly perfectly executed race. The question becomes what’s the difference to gain 3%? It is more speedwork? Or strength work? Or better nutrition, more bodywork?

That 3% gives me perspective. The pros and serious competitors do all they can do for the extra 1%. There’s a lot of focus required for that additional 1%, to go from being extremely good to being the best, at least for one event. I’ve put in my share of that effort over the past 30 years of competing – and still I’m impressed with the focus the pros have.

There’s a question of is that 3% worth it?

I don’t know.

What’s this measured against anyway?

I don’t know that either.

Will I go for it? ;-)

I don’t know either – I’m still in recovery mode.

I do know if I do, the only reason will be to see if I can do it, nothing more.

For me it’s something to ponder with curiosity, perspective, amazement, and wonder.

3%

Amazed at the Masters

In this case, Masters are those in the 40+ age category. Almost two years ago I joined the masters category though it didn’t mean until to me until I started running in races.

After seeing the results from the Tunnel Marathon where 11 of the top 20 males were masters, I wanted to write more about the Masters!

When I was involved with ultracycling, I was frequently one of the youngest out there; a majority of riders were in their 40s and 50s. I knew how much of a difference maturity, patience, and experience made. I learned a lot being around those riders, as well from my own experience. The older riders seemed to fare better on the long rides as well. What was not apparent was the absolute speed or strength, especially since these rides were longer – 12 hours or more.

I’ve also heard for a long time that the age groups between 35 and 50 were some of the most competitive out there – from marathons to Ironman to triathlon, and so on. I’d look at race results and I would be amazed at what I saw, both for the actual times and how many strong competitors there are.

Now that I’ve joined the masters, I’m starting to see things a little differently – and actually feel it.

First is the body - certainly the body declines in ability over time – and yet athletes continue to prove that it’s not as much as you might think. Even in my case I’m amazed at the times and pace I’m able to run. I’ve also seen this proved over and over in endurance sports. Even as I write this, Arthur Webb is out running his 15^th Badwater 135 running race – he’s 71! Just a month ago, a team of four cyclists with an average age of 79 finished the Race Across America – 3000 miles – in 9 ½ days. I could go on. Age is not the physically limiter we once thought it was.

Perhaps most importantly is the experience an older athlete has. After so many hours and years of practice, the older athlete can come to know his mind and body extremely well. Combine that with life experience and that’s a powerful combination of potential! The general consensus is that is takes 10,000 hours of practice to begin to become an ‘expert’ on a topic. By age 40 or 45 or 50, there are many with that many hours of athletic experience. I’m in that category as well with over 8,000 hours on the bike. Experience does matter.

I’m thrilled to be a top 20 finisher at a marathon, finishing in the top 5%. I’m also completely humbled and amazed by my ageless peers who finished ahead of me.

Here’s to all the Masters out there!

Goals, Pacing, and Strategy (Tunnel Marathon)

After deciding to race a marathon in July, the next question was, ‘what would be my goal?’ The first one that came up was simply to finish. I knew that one was very realistic even if I walked the whole thing. So then it was a time goal. I knew I could do 3:30 since I’ve done plenty of training runs at an 8:00/mile pace or better. That one was also very realistic but wouldn’t push me to an edge. The next goal was a Boston Marathon qualifying time, which for the 40-45 year old men is 3:15 (7:27/mile pace). This seemed possible as well after running a 1:35 half-marathon this past February. Time to get serious, what could I really do?

3:10? Yes, I figured I could do a 3:10. I also asked my friend Marty about 3:15 and even 3:10 and he agreed. It would be hard and I could do it.

Could I do better? In my head I had 3:08 if I was really on and running well. Maybe …

I just had to figure out how to actually run a 7:15/mile pace for 26 miles, and that’s where working with Marty was awesome. He set up twice-a-week pacing runs for me for 6 of the last 7 weeks before the race. I really enjoyed doing that, both on the track, and on the road – and those pacing workouts really set the foundation for the race.

So the plan was to run the first mile at 7:45 and then settle into a 7:15/mile pace for the next 19 (until mile 20) and then see what I had left. That would get me to 3:10.

The first three miles was dead on – 22:15 – and I hit this after running 2 ¼ miles in a tunnel with just the feel of my body and the pace. This was also the flattest three miles of the course. Mile 4 was 29:10 (a 6:55 mile), followed by mile 5 at 36:20 (a 7:10 mile). With the elevation starting to drop just a little pacing was a little off and still right in a good range. When I did my pacing runs in Boulder I remembered the sensation of the pacing so I could try to duplicate that sensation, or some sense of it. With a different elevation, cool weather, and a solid taper, the first 5 miles were a breeze and much easier than the pacing I had done in training.

I had been trying to use my Garmin watch for pacing, but it seemed to give me numbers all over the place with a pace varying by 30 seconds or so within a minute of checking the watch. I knew my pace wasn’t that erratic. After mile 5, I tried following the watch, but it was too frustrating. At that point, I decided to follow my body feel. That’s worked pretty well for most of the year – AND – I knew I was in a completely unknown area, both for pacing and distance. Still I decided to trust my body.

I kept a smooth pace hitting mile 8 at 57:30 (7:11/mile pace), which was a minute faster than predicted. Still I wasn’t pushing at all. Mile 10 went by at 1:11 (7:07/mile pace). The time at the half way point was 1:32.33 (7:04/mile pace). That was a half marathon PR for me by 2 minutes and nowhere near the effort I used for the half marathon I ran in February. Still feeling very good and not pushing.

At this point I was a little excited – could I do a negative split? That felt very doable. 3:03:24 would be a 7:00/mile marathon pace. Could I hit that? That would mean a 1:31 second half. Possible?!?!? I also knew it was still too soon to increase my pace, so there was a balancing act there between my body holding a good, stead, strong pace, and not listening (too much) to the echoes of glory ringing in my head. A long way to go still.

At two hours I had covered about 17.2 miles (I think) or just under a 7:00/mile pace. Mile 20 was between 2:19 and 2:20 (I couldn’t see the seconds on my watch) – still under 7:00/mile pace. Still going strong. 22 miles was between 2:33 and 2:34 (that means I ran the 8.9 miles from halfway to this point at about a 6:50/mile pace!).

Just around 2 ½ hours I finally started to feel the effort. I wasn’t sure when it would happen, but I knew it would. Around this point, we made a turn and had about a ¼ mile of wind, twisty, steeper trail. That was too much of for my legs and quite quickly it felt like both calves and my right hamstring were getting tight and wanting to cramp. Yikes – still over 4 miles to go.

The last four miles were hard! This wasn’t the wall I’d read about where energy is gone and the mind is sapped; this was my body yelling for a stop. I am going to write about these four miles in another post, what a journey that was. In that last four miles I stopped once to walk for a bit, I must have looked quite hilarious waddling down the trail arms and legs swinging in an awkward rhythm. I also stopped once to stretch my calf. A third stop was almost necessary about ½ mile from the finish – that one I pushed through. My pace was all over the place – I just needed to keep going and get to the finish. The last 4.2 miles were over 7:30/mile pace.

I was told after the race by Marty that if I was really running at the edge, something would happen around mile 22, and if I was running too hard, it would have happened earlier. While I may have perhaps ‘lost’ a couple minutes in the last 4 miles, if I slowed down earlier it would have been the same two minutes. The 3:06 time was it – that was as hard as I could do.

Thanks to Marty for the advice, and pacing. And thanks to a body that has such a fine and subtle knowledge – better and deeper than I could do with my mind and with effort. All-in-all that was pretty close to perfect for pacing and strategy.

Tunnel Marathon

This past weekend I ran my main race for the year – the Tunnel Marathon in North Bend, WA. What an incredible experience! I don’t mean just the marathon itself, but everything around it – the training, the preparation, the rituals of getting ready, the beauty of the course. A lot of this I’ve written about previously - still the finish and experience spawned so many new reflections. You’ll read about all of it soon.

Officially this was my second marathon finish, the first was the Seattle Marathon in 1996 after just 6 weeks of training and a painful 4 ½ hours of alternating between running and walking resulting in incredibly sore ankles, knees, and hips. Clearly not a good way to prepare. This time around I have 14 months of running behind me, besides so many years of athletic endeavors. It some ways it felt like every bit of that experience came right into being all at once for 3 hours.

Early in the year I choose the Greenland 50K in early May as a key race. It became clear about a month before that I wasn’t ready yet for that distance. I wanted a race to focus on and thought a marathon would be a great choice to ramp up to. After some searching I found the perfect race – a downhill, trail marathon, at lower elevation, on the edge of the Cascade Mountains near Seattle where I’d lived for 15 years. What a great way to return and enjoy such beautiful country. So I signed up for the Tunnel Marathon with 400 other runners.

This year would be the 5^th year for the Tunnel Marathon. It’s named for the old two mile long railroad tunnel that the course goes through near the start. It’s almost perfectly straight and so once you enter you can see the ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ two miles away where the tunnel ends. The course begins at the Hyak trailhead of the John Wayne trailhead. For the next 21 miles the course follows the John Wayne Trail amidst the incredibly magnificent trees and lush beauty and greenness of the Cascades. The last 5 miles are on the Snoqualmie Valley Trail with an ending right at North Bend Way just east of North Bend, WA. Not a car on the entire course and only about 100 meters of actual pavement the entire way.

The race was perfect in so many ways. A beautiful trail. No cars. The weather was stunning at about 50-55 degrees, overcast and even some rain during the rain. It meant it was quite humid as well. I finished completely soaked. The tunnel itself was disorienting to begin with to run in so much darkness with just a headlamp, and then the body and senses settled and it was fabulous. I’ll say it again – the trees and forests and groundcover in Washington are magnificent, so much different from Colorado, so alive and lush. So joyful to run through so much of it. A few spots of great views. A number of high trestles to get the feeling of being in the tops of the trees for a few moments. A small, informal race which I like. So many great volunteers out on the course cheering and offering water; the race director was even able to run with so many great volunteers. When I saw the finish line before the beginning I thought it would be quite odd being just a small spot on the side of the road. It turns out that was perfect too. Small and cozy. Everything with a few steps of each other, which for me was good. Plenty of food including homemade chili, Coke which hit the spot perfectly, first-aid right there, the finish line and announcer. If you didn’t know what was happening, you’d have no idea why there were a couple hundred people on the side of the road.

Two days later I’m still hobbling around and completely sore. It means I ran completely, which was a goal. I didn’t care how long recovery would take, I just wanted to run hard and not end up injured. That’s what I did. More about that later too.

I finished in a time of 3:06:04! Holy cow! I was 21^st overall out of almost 400 runners, 19^th overall male. In the master category (40+), I was 11^th, so if you’re doing some math that means there were more finishers over the age of 40 in the first 20 than under 40! I’m totally thrilled! I’m not much for medals, but I wore mine proudly and hung it on my lamp when I came home.

Enough for now, but more to come …

Impressions

Tonight I landed in Graz, Austria, for a business trip to work with some of my colleagues here in Graz. After arriving at the hotel the first thing I did was put on my running shoes, check a map, and head out the door. I've heard many a runner say that it's a great way to get a feel for a new place and to reset after a long flight. I've never done it so I thought I'd give it a try.

While most posts are about runs, this one will simply  be impressions of Graz, Austria, from the point of view of a first run in a new place.

The first thing I noticed was the humidity; Boulder has been incredibly dry so any moisture in the air feels humid. Next was there was air! Graz is 4000 feet below Boulder and it's quite noticable. I charted a route that would take me to the Mur River and I figured there's be a path there to run along so that's where I headed. The streets were typical European with older buildings several stories tall. All different colors. The smaller European cars darted here and there.

After just a mile I found the river and a beautiful park. What a great sight! Lots of people, beautiful green, and mellow sound of the river. I started down the path and soon heard and saw a band playing along with food tents set up in the park. What the heck - I stopped and listened for a little bit. I believe it was a Middle-Eastern band - the language definitely wasn't German and there were melodies and influences from the little I know of Middle-Eastern music. Kids danced on the stage as if they belonged there and no one cared. Large circles of people dancing were in front of the stage. Holding hands, smiling, all ages, doing what looked like traditional steps. What a great community event; I'm sure there was hundreds of these happening all over the world on this Sunday night bringing peopletogether.

I had to learn the rules too. Should I wait at stoplights for the light to change - that one is a yes, everyone does. When I pass should I say on your left (or the German equivalent) - that's a no. Where should I run, the bike lane or pedestrian lane - I never did figure that one out, but ran in the pedestrian lane.

The people aren't so much for smiles or waves or eye contact, still they are friendly and have a sweet respect for each other. Walkers, runners, cyclists, roller bladers, even someone keeping a hula hoop going as she moseyed down the path. Plenty of playground equipment for kids, a lot of which looked like so much fun and the kind you won't find the U.S. anymore. No one in a hurry, almost like they were being with the river and matching its flow. I remember a woman on rollerblades as if it was second nature to her; and I can only presume a boyfriend behind her struggling to keep up. Friends sharing conversation, families strolling together.

While I didn't start out looking for a rhythm here, as my post from earlier would have talked about. That's exactly what happened though. I found my rhythm here in a new place. Yes, I was a visitor, but not a foreigner. I felt completely at home here. What a great welcome to Graz.

Finding the natural rhythm

The last three weeks may Friday run has been a a pacing run. The goal has been to maintain a consistent, strong pace for about 40 minutes. It has not been as easy as I would have thought. Over the past year I have done a lot of running while running a pace that felt good.

During the past two Friday runs I have had trouble holding the designated pace. In fact the thought that went through my head was 'this pace doesn't feel natural'. It wasn't a pace I'd normally run at. my body either wanted to go faster or slower.
As I started my pacing run this past Friday, the same thought came back. It was followed by another thought of this workout isn't going to work and have the proper effect if I let that thought continue.

Instead I knew I needed to find a new way to approach this. How did I want to run? I wanted to run and have it feel natural and have a good rhythm. So that's where I went - 'find the natural rhythm in this pace.' Almost as soon as that intention and idea came forward, everything about the run changed. My breathing eased, my stride opened up, there was more bounce in my footfalls, my mind quieted. The run was suddenly a gift!

It occurred to me that life can be similar. We End up in situations that are not ideal or even close. And we struggle trying to change it. What if instead we found the goodness, the naturalness, the rhythm in each moment. Our energy would improve and we would be more in a flow state, instead of a flight or fight mode.

I'm looking forward to practicing finding the natural rhythm!

Introducing ... Tailwind

Unfortunately I can't do one of those big introductory voices through text otherwise it would be a fun way to start this.

I just returned from a quick trip to Durango to visit some old friends, Jenny and Jeff, and to see some of the Race Across America teams comes through Durango. I met both while living in Seattle and I thoroughly enjoyed
the drive and the visit!
While I was there I had a chance to talk with Jenny and Jeff quite a bit about their new venture - Tailwind Nutrition. Tailwind has just launched a new Endurance Fuel a few months ago and Jenny has been itching to get me to try it. On a short and easy Monday run I did take some Tailwind with me and my first impression was that I liked it. It was indeed easy my stomach. They graciously gave me a few packets to try when I got home, which I will do. This isn't a review - that will come later after I've tried it on more runs.

What was far more interesting to me was our discussion about Tailwind, how it started, what the premise is, what the differentiation factor is. We talked through quite a few things like research, quality of ingredients, size of the company, marketing challenges, and so on.

Where the discussion came to at one point was about the people and company behind a product. What's the company like? What's their motivation? Are they truly bringing their passion to what they offer? This is entirely a reflection of the people, especially in a small company. For me it's important to know that the people that work there believe in what they are doing and have winning motivations for themselves and their customers. That kind of quality and personality is what really stands out and makes a difference.

I certainly want a high quality, well thought out, product that works for me. But if I had to choose between two products from different companies, the people and the company would make the difference to me about which I would choose.

Jenny and Jeff are fantastic people and they have come up with a new product that's very worth considering. Without more trail I can't say any more about how effective it is, but so far according to them the evidence suggests it's accomplishing what it set out to do. Moreso though, consider Tailwind because of who's behind it and the passion they bring to life in this new fuel.

World - say hello to Tailwind Nutrition.

Pacing

Since I began running a little more than a year ago my idea of pacing has been to listen to the rhythm of my body and let it find the perfect pace for each mile, or each hill. It's worked really well with some fantastic runs in that realm.

I'm now heading towards a race in a few weeks and asked my friend Marty for some advice on final preparations. He was kind enough - and I am quite grateful - to offer his wisdom from so many years of running. The primary workouts Marty has planned for me are pacing workouts - holding a specific pace. Being able to monitor, assess, and hold a consistent pace will be key to keeping my energy strong and heading towards a solid finish.

I haven't done this type of focused pacing for perhaps 20 years, but so far it's been another thrill to really tune in to my body. I'm having to focus effort to within a few seconds over a half mile or a mile, and then do that again and again. Or in some cases go 2-4 seconds faster over the next interval. Finding that precise rhythm has been fun even with its challenges and newness again.

In one of the movies about Steve Prefontaine, Pre as he was called, finishes a race, a 5000 meter race I think. In that race he sets a personal best (and maybe even an American record, but I can't remember). After the race Pre walks over to his coach, the famous Bill Bowerman and the first words from Bowerman are 'you could go 10 seconds faster.' Pre stands there dumbfounded and even a little pissed after running the race of his life. Bowerman then proceeds to rattle after precise quarter mile splits. If Pre had paced right the race he just finished would have been even faster.

Putting all that together has given me a new appreciation of the importance of pacing, and a finer sense of the rhythms of my body on a run which I'm really enjoying.

10,000 Feet

Most of today's run was above 10,000 feet on the beautiful Sourdough Trail. The group met at the south end near the Rainbow Lakes campground and headed north to Brainerd and then back. I've done a few high-elevation runs this year (about 7000 feet), but this was the first really biggie.

What I really liked above today's run was that almost all of it was runnable. I much prefer to keep an easy steady pace on an uphill that to be begging for up and having to walk up a steep grade. I also appreciated the cool air at that height which makes for some very pleasant running.

Having lived in Boulder for more than 5 years I was used to the mile-high elevation in Boulder and even fairly comfortable up to around 7000 feet. The race at Golden Gate State Park and today's run offer a truly different perspective on running and the need to slow down.

It was very obvious from the start in the parking lot that oxygen was in short supply. You are immediately confronted with the need to slow down and find the balance between oxygen to the legs and oxygen to the brain. Of course we usually want to run faster which means more oxygen to the legs so they can do what they do best. It doesn't take long after that before you caught a toe on a rock and manage an unsightly twist before regaining balance. What just happened? Well with all that oxygen going to the legs, the brain didn't have enough to pay attention.

I love running on trails and part of that is the required awareness and attention on staying upright, finding the perfect landing spot on each step to keep balance and forward movement. Some of the awareness is clearly in the realm of grace and cooperating with the energy of nature and the trail to guide you. Still there is some human attention needed as well, that's where the brain and oxygen come in.

What a joy today to explore and completely enjoy a new trail - all the while finding that balance of oxygen deployment on every part of the trail.

Dancing With the Dirt Rating Today - 9 out of 10!