Next Up.... Dogwood Canyon 50K

“I’m going to retire from ultras. Never again. This is insane.” These were my thoughts as I struggled through a few of the lonely miles late during last year’s Dogwood Canyon 50k. Climbing the ridiculously steep hills with the sun in full blaze above and carrying an empty water bottle it was easy enough to question why anyone would want to subject themselves to this craziness. Throw in the sheer genius of wearing a pink tutu (yes, that was me) and the fact that I had just completed the Arkansas Traveller 100 only 2 weeks prior..... never mind. Those are just more excuses.

For some reason it always surprises me just how tough this course is even though I have ran some variation of it every year since 2008. To say that it is one of the toughest trail races in the midwest would not be an exaggeration. Fortunately, it is also one of the most organized (not counting the first year)  and runner friendly races around. It’s been exciting to watch this event grow each year and expand to include a 15k giving many road runners an opportunity to experience a true trail event. The course is technical but forgiving, the hills are steep but rewarding and the overall experience will leave you beat up and swelling with pride.

I was a relative newcomer to running back in 2008. With about 2 years of road running and a couple of marathons under my belt I thought that a 25k would be easy. I could not have been more wrong. Within the first couple of miles my feet were wet, my knees and hands bloody from falling down and my legs were dead from trying to run up every hill. I had yet to learn about picking up my feet and the idea of walking during a race seemed completely against the rules of nature. During one of these uphill battles, crawling along at a snails pace, a pack of runners came flying by. They were running faster uphill than I could on the flats and it was an impressive sight to behold. I remember telling them “Good work” or something similar and this dude with crazy long hair responded with a half smile, “Well, thank you. You’re doing pretty good yourself”.  

The attitude, smile and encouraging response from this elite runner was not expected and, honestly, changed my perspective about what runners should be all about. I had no clue that it was Anton Krupicka until a few years later when I lined up right behind him at the Rocky Raccoon 100 miler. He, along with Scott Jurek, Ian Sharman and a host of other elites exhibited the same encouraging behavior towards every runner in the race. It is always an uplifting experience to hear a word of encouragement mid-race from the very best in our sport to an average runner like me. It’s part of the draw that keeps me returning to the trails.

In 2010 I showed up at Dogwood to run the 50k. Nothing special or remarkable about this except that I was wearing a pink tutu and pink shirt. This was probably the hardest thing I had ever done. The reasons for the tutu were very clear and important to me but I was nervous, embarrassed and scared as I walked up to the starting line. Both of my parents had been diagnosed with cancer earlier in the year and I had struggled with finding a meaningful and unique way to help fight back against this disease. Because October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Dogwood is always held in October..... well you get it. I’m pretty sure that not everybody was staring and laughing but it sure felt like it. Once the race started all of the embarrassment, fear and nervousness was lost in the beauty of the trail. Weird how that happens.

Some people have this idea that I wear the pink tutu to every race, the grocery store, church and my kid’s school functions. So let’s set the record straight here.... I don’t particularly enjoy wearing it. It’s uncomfortable, rubs in weird places and slows me down a lot. I only wear it twice a year. Once during the Relay for Life Ozark County for a few laps and during the Dogwood Canyon 50k which I have dubbed as the “Turn the Trail Pink” annual fund raiser. I’m no longer embarrassed, scared or nervous about wearing it in front of large crowds of runners. I think that most of them understand why

and it’s become kind of fun to let people take a picture and laugh about it.

The training miles are starting to build as Dogwood Canyon approaches. Last year I knew that it would be a struggle coming off of a 100 miler. This year I know it will be a struggle because the course is tough and demanding. This will be my “A” race for the fall and the hope for a decent finishing time is high. The tutu will be back for the 4th year and I hope to recruit a few friends to wear pink shirts in support of Breast Cancer Awareness.

This really is a great event. All of the  volunteers, course marshals and aid station workers want to see every person cross the finish line and are willing to help make that possible. The hills are steep. The creeks are cold. The trail goes on forever. Keep the relentless forward progress and the rewards are amazing. Plus they have beer at the finish line. That helps. Hope to see you on the course. I’ll be the dude in the pink... oh, you get it....

This article was originally published in the Ozark Mountain Ridge Runners September 2013 Newsletter.

Training? Training?? I Don't Need No Stinkin' Training Plan....

I used to think that I had it all figured out. This running stuff is really simple after all. Just lace 'em up and hit the road. Run as fast as possible for the desired distance and call it good. Go back the next day and run just a little faster. Training plans were, in my mind, something designed by "professionals" to make money. Every copy of Runners World seemed to have one that was just a little different than the last issue but claimed to be better. I tried a few early on because, like most beginners, I was lost and wanted to improve. It wasn't long before I started feeling like a complete failure. I couldn't find the time and I didn't understand 90% of the stuff it wanted me to do. Pretty quick, I abandoned my faith in the "experts" and just decided to run. Looking back, this was the smartest and dumbest move I ever made. Weird.

When I began "training" for my first full marathon back in 2007, the goal was to finish. I knew that a 3:30 was realistic but wasn't sure how to get there. I perused the internet and found several plans that promised to take me my goals and beyond. I noticed that they all had a few things in common. First, every plan called for a build up of miles over a period of time, usually 16-20 weeks. Second, they all called for some type of speed work and recovery days. Finally they stressed the importance of maintenance runs. Seemed simple enough so I built my own plan by stealing from several and combining them into something that would fit my life and schedule. It was genius. I cut out all the speed work stuff, mainly because I had zero understanding of it and partly because it seemed too hard, and ended up with a plan that would end up matching total mileage with the majority I had found.

Things worked out okay. I ran a 3:13 for my first marathon, qualified for Boston, didn't break any bones and fell in love with the longer distance. Because of my luck, and I really think it was pure luck, there was an arrogance that I had it all under control and most plans were just money making gimmicks. I carried on through a few more marathons and eventually found myself looking at ultras. Back then there really weren't any real plans for 50k's and up. Sure there was a lot of "tweak your marathon plan" type of articles but no real clear plan to step up the distance. This,of course, help solidify the idea that I didn't need no stinkin' plan. Just run dude. That's all you got to do. So I did. After running a couple of fairly successful 50 milers I wrote about some of the stuff that discouraged me from training plans....

I am one of those people that believe that the only way to “truly” learn is through personal experience. Sure this takes a little longer and there are some risks, like injury and never reaching the peak performance, but still, I think it is the BEST way. I may be way off base here, but it seems that most of these “experts” are basing there plans on what works best for themselves......exactly what I believe.....but want to apply it to everyone else. HOW can one plan work for everybody? I mean, they are almost always backed with some type of guarantee. (I guarantee that if it doesn't work for YOU, it was because YOU didn't follow the plan properly.) 

VO2 max, lactic threshold, fast-twitch, slow-twitch, pronation, fartleks, tempo-run, marathon pace, mp+ 30, heart rate and Yasso 800's....... that crap blows my mind and leaves me feeling less like running and more like taking a nap. I kind of understand some of it and do not care about the rest. What I do know is this...... When I run as hard as I can, my heart beats faster and breathing becomes difficult, so I slow down. When I get thirsty, I drink water. My marathon pace depends on the course, weather and how I feel that day. Yasso 800's tell me nothing except that I hate running 800's. The rest of that “technical” stuff is just mumbo-jumbo to me. 

I have tried to follow some plans in the past and usually end up tired, sore and less motivated than ever. Some of it is because of the time commitment required, some due to the mid-week speed drills but mostly because I hate the inflexible nature of a strict plan. Knowing that training is more important than the actual event, I WILL follow a training plan for all future events. The plan will be the same for everything.....run everyday if possible, try to hit back to back long runs (10-12 miles followed by 16-20 miles the next day). Some will be slow, some will be faster but they will ALL be on my terms- depending on how I feel that day. (Read that nonsense here)

I stuck to this idea, this "plan", that all I had to do was run and everything else would fall into place. And it did. For the most part. I employed this theory through a couple of sub 3 marathons, a few very fast 50k's, two sub 24 hour 100 milers and a sweet 50 miler that left me with a state record for my age group. It was working. Nothing could stop me. Nothing. Well, almost nothing. Nowhere in my "plan" did it take into account that I could become injured and what I should do about it once it happened. My experiences in the past with injuries had been few and far between. A little knee pain? Calf muscles are sore? Hamstring issues? Plantar? Shin splints? ITB? Rub some dirt on it dude... you got to keep up the mileage. So I always did.

Back in late December, 2011 and early January of 2012, The Idiots Running Club was formally created and our motto became ti no trid emos bur which is simply rub some dirt on it backwards. It came about because of my attitude that we, as runners, didn't need to play by the rules and just had to tough it out if goals were to be met. This motto and dumb little club pushed me to continue my arrogant ways for a while. (I still believe in the "dirt method" for the most part- most of the time we talk ourselves into quitting because of "make believe" pains/injuries.) In April of 2012, I ran the Ouachita 50 miler with some big time knee and calf issues. Going in to the race, I knew there were problems and coming out I made a ton of excuses but the fact was that I had over-trained and really just didn't have a clue how to prepare myself for the distance.

Earlier in the year, Jeff Kline from PRS Fit and I started "talking" via twitter and facebook. He is the owner of PRS Fit and quickly integrated himself into the Idiots Running Club group page on facebook. To be fair and honest, I really thought he was full of crap when he first started posting and tweeting. I automatically assumed it was another "get rich quick" scheme and he was just trolling for clients but in the interest of providing knowledge and helpful tips to the club I allowed him to continue his interactions while monitoring and inspecting every post for even a hint of a sales pitch. To my surprise, he only offered sound advice and quick responses to every question asked, whether directed at him or not, we eventually set up a weekly "Ask the Coach" forum for members. His responses were in the form of private video mails, if the question was of a personal nature,  public videos and in depth comments for all to see if the questions could be publicly addressed.

Jeff really impressed me with his work ethic and generous nature. In fact, it got me thinking that maybe there was something to the whole "hire a coach and follow a plan" thing. So.... Jeff and I spoke in May of 2012 and by June I was onboard. My initial thoughts were to just give it a shot for a few months and see what happened. I was still recovering from various injuries but I wanted to run the Arkansas Traveller 100 in October. Again, to be honest, I was very skeptical of his methods and the first few weeks didn't help make me a believer. You want me to do what? A heart rate monitor? Throw out the distance/pace and run for a set amount of time only? Are you freakin' insane???

On more than one occasion, I questioned whether or not he understood what ultra running was really all about. I mean, it IS different than marathons or triathlons and he didn't really have a resume for training 100 milers but.... I stuck with it. Each week seemed to get a little better. The heart rate training started to actually make sense and the benefits were showing. Granted, I wasn't going to run any sub 18 5k's or sub 3 hour marathons BUT the 100 miler was looking much easier. But the "run slow-build aerobic base-trust the process" crap made me wonder. I still wasn't completely convinced.

At the starting line of the Arkansas Traveller, I was nervous as hell. There was NO WAY that I could run a sub 24 on this course with the training that I had. All I had done for the past 4 months was run slow. All the time. Sure there were a lot of miles but they were SLOW. I should have been running fast. This dude is off his rocker. I'm going to die at mile 30 and end up coming in DFL. This is going to suck.....

It didn't suck. I had a great day. It poured down rain, it was cold, I kept my nutrition in check and my heart rate stayed so low that I wondered if I was even alive. At the end of the day... night.... whatever... I crossed the finish line in 4th place overall with a time of 21:29. Not a 100 mile PR but much better than I had ever dreamed on such a tough course. The very first text message I received was from Coach Jeff, who had stayed up all night tracking the race online. That meant a lot to me because I am far from elite and still hadn't figured this dude out yet. After the race it was easy to follow his twitter/facebook timeline and see that he had indeed followed my progress throughout the day and was excited about the prospect of a good finish for me. This was HUGE because, like I said, I just didn't expect that level of dedication from him for a non-elite runner like me.

We had scheduled a running clinic in my small town for the very next week. Jeff showed up and gave a great clinic to all the runners I could round up.... there were only like 10 of us that came. I apologized for not being able to attract more people because I knew his expenses were going to be more than he brought in. His response was simply, "I don't do this to get rich." and I couldn't help but believe him. We talked about the Traveller and I told him of my plans to go sub 20 at Rocky Raccoon. He told me he would make the trip to Texas and help crew/pace me. Yeah... right.

Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler in Huntsville, Texas. Coach Jeff was tripping over the roots on the toughest section of the course. Cussing, smiling and encouraging me to keep up the pace. We were at mile 70 and I couldn't help but wonder "Why in the hell would this dude show up, at his own expense, to crew me?" There was no real benefit for him. He could have just stayed home and followed online. The answer seems obvious now but it was a puzzle then. He truly does care about the runners he coaches. His dedication is not a smoke screen. It is real. He was there so that WE could reach OUR goals. This wasn't just something that I wanted, he wanted it as bad as I did. After the last pacer left me at mile 92 he told me "This is it. You have an hour and a half. It's all on you now. You know what to do." Those simple words, and the the fact that he no longer felt a need to send a pacer, let me know that he believed in me. He knew that I wanted it. He knew my personality and KNEW that the training was solid. The 100+ mile weeks, the 300+ mile months, all the time we spent going over the plan had paid off. He understood where I was in that moment. Can't find that in a magazine.

I crossed the line in 19:37, well under my 20 hour goal, with a PR of over an hour. We celebrated with an Oreo, which was a big sacrifice on his part, and I couldn't thank him enough. Still can't. This post isn't an advertisement for PRS Fit. I do think you should at least give Jeff a phone call but that's up to you. (it doesn't cost that much- tell him I sent you) It isn't a retraction on my earlier thoughts about "one size fits all" training plans. It is, however, an endorsement for smart and efficient training, and my personal recommendation to find a plan or coach that will bring you to your goals in a way that brings out your potential and minimizes risk of injury. Oh... Injuries? Yeah... haven't had any of those since I started with PRS Fit. Next up? How about a sub 19 at Rocky Raccoon next year, Coach?

 

How Bad Do You Want It?

It's almost midnight. It's dark. It's cold. I'm hungry. I'm tired. Nobody will know. Just sit down for a minute. Better yet, lay down. Who cares? Dude... NOBODY cares. Nobody cares if you finish in 20 hours or 30 hours. Fact is, nobody really cares if you finish at all. They are all asleep and will totally understand if you DNF. Hey... I got an idea. When you get to the next aid station just start limping. And talking in circles. Hopefully you'll catch a volunteer that can't see through your lies and tell you that you should quit. Then you have an excuse. Do you really need another buckle? No. What you need is to find a warm campfire, a chair, a cold beer and take these stupid shoes off your feet. Does it really freaking matter? Can't we just walk the rest of the way? 

If you think that every one of these thoughts hasn't gone through my head at some point during a 100 miler then you are very wrong. Every single time I have questioned my sanity, my heart, my talent, my dreams, my desire, my physical ability and my mental toughness. There have been many times when I questioned myself on shorter distances too. The one thing that always pushes me to keep stepping, to keep moving forward, to find the finish line is the idea that I have already done the hardest part. Training. Nothing is tougher than  training. Waking up at 1, 2 or 3 a.m. to fit a run in before heading off to work for 10, 12 or 14 hours is not easy. Running the last 20 miles of a 100 is a cake walk in comparison.

100 plus mile weeks, 300 mile months, holding a full time job, a part time job and attending my kids basketball games, school functions, helping with homework and discussing the days events is where it gets hard. Keeping focused can be tough at times but that is what makes the focus on race day easy. My mantra during training is simply, "Eye on the Prize". Take your eye off the prize for a second and it becomes a distant and seemingly impossible goal. Mental toughness doesn't all of a sudden appear on race day. It does, however, become a natural reaction to whatever obstacles come your way. Rain, snow, ice, extreme heat or race directors that try to skimp and leave you scrounging for sun-baked pbj's and undrinkable water can be overcome IF you have the right attitude.

So many times in the past I would train to finish the distance. To complete the distance. Sure I had goals but at the top was ALWAYS to just finish. I have learned that by training to go BEYOND the distance, I can always dig a little deeper and push just a little harder when things get tough. The "wall" still exists but it's not the death nail that it once was. I have found myself looking forward to hitting the wall because I know that once it finally shows up, I WILL be able to push through and things will get easy again. No fear of dying. No fear of failure. No fear of not reaching my goals. Secure in the knowledge that I have already conquered worse during training calms me down and allows the relentless forward progress to continue. It allows me to question myself and run through the scenarios of quitting without any realistic expectation that I would actually follow through.

Eye on the Prize. How bad do you want it? Do you still want it as bad now as you did yesterday? These are the thoughts that always win out during the tough times. It is always the same. I want it bad. I want it more now than yesterday. Yes, my eye is on the prize. Failure is not an option. Keep going unless you are dead. This is the stuff I learn through the training period. Nobody WANTS to get up at the butt crack of dawn to run 2, 3, 4 or 5 hours. Nobody WANTS to go to work everyday on 3 or 4 hours sleep. Nobody WANTS to run 4 hours, go to their kid's basketball tournament and then run another 5 hours after it's over. Only a crackhead would WANT to throw in 40 miles on a treadmill. These are the things we do because we WANT to succeed on race day more.

Mental toughness is 90% of my strategy. The other 10% has to do with beer and Oreos so I won't bore you with the details. My "natural" running talent is very small and I realize that if I want to compete then I must do what others aren't willing to do. That is what drives me to the next goal, the next medal, the next trophy or the next buckle. I will never be an elite runner. I will remain average at best. I know this. Thankfully the VOICES don't really care what I think I know and they keep pushing me to new limits. When in doubt - push a little harder. You will be so worried about dying that you will forget about the doubt and things WILL get better.

A New Appreciation...

As the sun began to fill the sky, bringing the darkness into light and signaling the start of a new day, it became difficult to see the faces of so many that had braved the night in a celebration of lives and continuation of a long enduring battle. The difficulty was a result of my own blurred vision as tears formed in a steady stream down my face. This was it. The end of another Relay for Life. With my head down in an attempt to mask the emotion, hoping that it remained unnoticed by those that had stayed, I continued to circle the track lost in thought. This is the time during each Relay that I become overwhelmed by the sheer symbolism of it all. The new day brings forth the hope that we will win along with the knowledge that road ahead is long, difficult and, at times, painful. The dawning of a new day reinforces the notion that we are willing to stay the course and never take our eyes off the ultimate prize.

Throughout the night we celebrated, honored and remembered all of those that have been touched by cancer. We sold food, drinks, shirts, auctioned off baskets full of goodies, raffled a trailer and played carnival type games in an effort to raise just a few more dollars. The Luminaria Ceremony was held with the highest level of respect, followed by fireworks that filled the night sky. As the crowd began to dwindle with many calling an end to a long day, those that stayed knew it had really only just begun.

In the past, I had participated in the Relay for Life as a member of a team. Problem was is that I really wasn't a very good teammate. I mostly did my own thing throughout the year, raising money at different races and then just showing up on Relay night with my running shoes and a water jug. I never fully understood how amazing the whole event could be. Or just how much work and effort go into bringing things together in a manner that makes the night enjoyable and fun for everybody. I had been pretty selfish in this regard without even realizing it. This year my approach was a little different.

IRC Relay Team raised $8,800 this year

Back in October, as I prepared for my annual Turn the Trail Pink fundraiser, it became necessary for me to register early with the Relay website. Because it was so early, I just formed my own team thinking that I would merge with the old team later. As time passed the idea struck me that maybe I could get some new people involved through social media with my team. As it turned out, several people jumped on board and the Idiots Running Club Relay for Life team was born. I really didn't do anything different- still ran the same 50k, 50 miler and 100 miler to raise money as in previous years but as June approached it became evident that I might need a little better plan for Relay night. Thankfully there were plenty of people much smarter than I am that wanted to help.

We decided to set up our campsite in a birthday theme. Worked for me since the Relay and my  41st birthday were on the same day.  I asked for donations of $41 to run in the pink tutu and, no surprise to me, there were a few takers. Guess people like seeing a dude in a dress. Or, more likely, they are the very generous type and hate cancer as much as the rest of us. Either way.... the stupid tutu was worn but that's boring so we'll skip that part. My son also set up a campsite along with us. His theme was Superman and it was awesome. Awesome because he asked to be involved and be allowed to do his own thing. He even wrote a letter detailing exactly why he wanted to Relay. He's 10 and much more mature than his dad.

Never to early to get involved.....

Setting up the campsite was much more work than I had envisioned. It took all day and we were still scrambling to pull things together when the Opening Ceremonies began.. Several out of town team members showed up to support the event and run laps during the night. It was very cool to meet those that I had only previously known in a virtual sense through our facebook group. My Dad was able to make it again this year but he couldn't stay long because, while he is cancer free, the beast has taken it's toll and it can be difficult for him at times. I am very thankful that he made the trip and we did walked the Survivor Lap together.

A friend, Jamie, had been planning to come to the Relay as a member of the team for several months just to support the event. Recently her Dad was diagnosed with cancer and the Relay took on a different role in her life. I watched as she pushed her physical limits over the course of the night with a passion and dedication that couldn't be stopped. It became a personal journey as she circled the track 120 times for a total of 30 miles. One mile for each treatment her Dad is in the midst of receiving and eclipsing her personal distance record. When it became difficult and her legs started to get sore she never complained or talked about quitting. She just pushed forward knowing that it was nothing in comparison. It really does amaze me what people can do when they find the right motivation. It also helps to surround yourself with a bunch of people that understand and have the same desire to fight back. Every person there recognized, supported and felt exactly the same way as Jamie. It's hard not to succeed with that kind of energy in the air.

Obviously she wasn't the only one that did amazing things that night. Her story just seemed familiar to me. Several teammates logged big miles and honored those they love or have lost. I can honestly say that every single person who walked, ran, participated in activities or worked during the night are heroes in my eyes. Hope is the common bond that brought us all together. With hope there is the courage to fight back. There are many soldiers in the fight that are filled with hope and I appreciate and am grateful to be with them in this battle.

My goal was to run 41 miles. I ran 35. In the years past the mileage has averaged 55. What happened? Well..... It's much easier to just show up an run than it is to actually participate in a Relay for Life. I played games, hung out at the campsite, ate a ton of food, laughed, smiled and took in the entire atmosphere of the event this time. Not only did I have more fun than ever before, I gained a new perspective and appreciation for the hard work and effort that everybody puts in. I had been running with blinders on since 2010 and didn't really get that EVERYBODY involved works really hard to end cancer. In some weird, egotistical dreamland I had somehow pushed aside the importance of their contributions and managed to minimize it in the past. I knew they cared. I knew they were dedicated. I knew they were passionate. But this year I opened my eyes and watched with clarity as friends, families and complete strangers worked with a level of selflessness and determination that was many times greater than my own.

Just for fun....

I love learning new things about the character of others and the flaws of my own each time I take another step in this journey. It can be humbling at times but that is what makes it so worthwhile. Knowing that as hard as I might try at any given time there are 100 people doing so much more keeps me secure in the knowledge that HOPE is alive and a world without cancer is in our children's future. Thank you to all who participate, donate and are active in the fight. Without your dedication nothing happens.