Bighorn DNF

I DNF'd at Bighorn last weekend. This was my second-ever DNF (DNF="did not finish" or, to some folks, "did nothing fatal"). Here's the overall score of me versus 100s:

Me: 8 finishes of 100+ miles
100-mile distance: 2 (Leadville 2012 and Bighorn 2015)

I decided to withdraw from Bighorn because I could not stop vomiting and I couldn't keep anything solid or liquid down for more than a few minutes. In the wake of the DNF, I would be lying if I said I'm not hurting badly deep down (I am).

I vomited in two aid stations going up to the turnaround point--a 4,500-vertical-foot climb--and it got so bad in one that they kind of hid me from the others so as not to kill morale. Yes, that really is true, but I want to emphasize that the volunteers were compassionate and helpful. Let me also state now that I want no pity and this post isn't here to get people to comment and tell me all will be OK. No pity needed, please.

Over the past few days, I've done some reading on why we vomit in endurance races. I think my issue has a few different layers. First, I probably have a sensitive stomach. I have very valid reasons for believing that and there's no need to go into details as to why. Second, I think I have a tendency to let myself get under-hydrated in races, which can have a domino effect (including GI distress and mental and physical fatigue). I also think I went out too fast at Bighorn. It was very hot when the gun went off at 11am. I made lots of mistakes on Friday but it does no good going into all of them. I think I know much of what I did wrong, like under-hydrating and going out a bit too fast. But what perplexes me is that I used to not puke in 100s and now I'm puking in all of them, with onset of symptoms happening earlier and earlier in each race.

Recently, I heard a prominent ultrarunner who I greatly respect say that puking in an ultra is akin to hitting the reset button and that we should embrace it. That may be true for some people, but what happens when you can't stop puking? What happens when you completely bonk because you can't keep anything down? That's where I was on Friday. And, frankly, it's why Bighorn in 2016 (next year) may be my last ultra. I'm planning to go back to Bighorn next year and, come hell or high water, I will finish it--even if it means a 33:59:59 result and hundreds of vomit stops. I cannot let a race beat me without me hitting back. But I also can't keep putting myself and my family through this. I like running long distances and I expect to suffer along the way, but I don't like losing huge chunks of time to vomiting and genuinely worrying about my own health and safety. Last year at Leadville, I lost easily two hours to vomiting and related issues.

After withdrawing at the turnaround at Bighorn, I went back to our cabin and slept. The next morning, I felt resolved that this was probably my last 100. But then we went to the finish to cheer on my two pals, Mike Wilkinson and Mark Thompson, who ran the first half of the race together. Quick background: When I withdrew at the turnaround, I asked my pacer, Scott, to pace Mark into the finish, which he did (Mike already had a pacer lined up). So we got to the park in Dayton on Saturday afternoon and watched both Mike and Mark come into the finish within 15 minutes of each other and both under 28 hours--very solid times for Bighorn. I was so proud of these guys, and watching them cross gave me a little unexpected fire to come back to Bighorn next year and "get revenge." Plus, it just hurts knowing my son cried at the turnaround when he heard I was dropping. I have to come back and show him that you can't give up without a fight--even though I did DNF this year, I feel I must confront Bighorn next year and close the deal the right way. And then that may be it for me.

Where is all the fun in this? I love being in the wilderness and running. Bighorn is probably the prettiest course I've ever seen. There is a section ("the Wall") where you're surrounded by towering canyon walls--breath-taking. But it's hard to have fun when you're puking going up a 4,500-foot climb. I also think I'm now psychologically damaged from all these vomit episodes in 100s. I honestly think early in the race I was just waiting for the nausea and puking to start--and then it did. A self-fulfilling prophecy? Quite possibly, yes. I guess that means my confidence as a runner is gone. I used to take it for granted that I'd finish a 100. In the very early days, I wanted to win or podium. I no longer take it for granted that I'll finish.

We celebrate elites in this sport. And they are amazing. But let me say this: I have more respect for the folks who run their own races and those amazing souls who grind out the 30-hour 100s. Because finishing 100s is super hard. It's easy to forget that.

Having said all of that, what I'm about to write may seem contradictory. Here goes.... On the one hand, I'm not sure I'll do anymore races for the rest of the year. Right now, as I type this, I have no desire to race. That would mean no Pikes Peak Marathon and no Western States qualifier, which means my WS dream will likely come to an end because I'd then go back to zero tickets. And, honestly, that's OK because all it does is create pressure. And I need no pressure right now.

On the other hand, what I need is a good, drama-free finish in a 100. So, while I am considering taking the year off, I am also considering lining up at Javelina in late October and going for that WS qualifier and having a good experience on a course that, while far from easy, doesn't involve mountains. I'm not sure yet what I'll do. At this point, the thought of running an ultra is enough to make me start vomiting again. I need some down time. I need time to think, reflect, lift some weights (I love lifting), joy run, camp and bike with my family, get some home improvement projects done, and generally have no races to think about. I see this is a rebuilding phase, or perhaps the end of the line in terms of ultras. In 2012, I was burned out but came back quite inspired in 2013 and 2014. So it's possible this will pass and desire will return. Only time will tell.

Again, please, no pity. I'm not looking for it. We need to save our pity for people in this world who really need it. But please do chime in if you have any helpful advice.

Now, go have a good run.

Taper

Well, after months of training, the taper for the Bighorn 100 is here.

My last big effort (unless you count this morning's 400s) was Sunday. I ran a little over 24 miles on one of my favorite routes--Waterton Canyon and Section 1 of the Colorado Trail. A lot of people hate Waterton Canyon--a seemingly never-ending dirt road outside of Denver--but I like it because the 6.7-mile return trip can be mentally daunting. We often train our bodies but forget about the mental aspects of preparing for a big ultra. That's why I like to test myself in places like Waterton Canyon; the return trip can put me in the mental pain cave and I like that. On Sunday, I had another strong finish, which has become the hallmark of my new training approach. Lately, I almost never finish a long run feeling depleted; I finish a long run feeling like I could do it again if I had to.

Overall, with more than handful of 80+ mile weeks in the bag and lots of quality, I feel like I'm ready for Bighorn. These last five weeks of training have been super solid. I've also gotten out there for some groups runs with guys like Mike W., Scott S., Mark T., AJ, Chuck, Matt, Jon, John and others, which have made a difference. The group element has been huge for me.

As far as the nuts and bolts of training, going hard on hard days and easy on easy days has allowed me to execute when I need to and get the rest my body requires between quality sessions in order to promote recovery. I cannot emphasize enough how important it's been to me to go easy on easy days. We often stress ourselves to the breaking point because we tell ourselves, the more we run, the better. But, in actuality, we get better on the days that we rest. That has been my mantra for the last five weeks.

The taper has always vexed me. But not this time around. I feel like I'm entering my taper feeling good overall, not depleted. Over the next two and a half weeks, the key will be to keep mixing in some quality while also reducing overall quantity of mileage and time on the feet.

If there is one vulnerability I have, it's that I may not have done enough sustained climbs. I've done some good climbing overall, but with a very wet spring it has been hard to get to the mountains for big climbs and descents. That said, I've gotten to the trails and have logged quite a few climbs of 1,500-2,000 feet. And, honestly, I'm feeling good on the climbs. Not sure what's given me this little bounce--hill repeats, intervals, tempos or all of the above--but something seems to be working for me. I would be remiss in not also saying that Tailwind, Honey Stinger Waffles and Justin's nut butters been great on long training runs. It's critical for me that I stay within my hourly calorie and carb zones, give or take.

So, while I'm feeling strong, I also know that my goal for Bighorn is a respectable finish. I actually don't really care about my time; I just want to have fun and enjoy a 100-miler. If my body is working for me (and not against me as has been the case at Leadville), then it may just be a good day.

Bighorn 100 Plan

After months of saying "I'll worry about that later," I'm finally starting to get serious about the Bighorn 100. In this post, I'd like to share a few early thoughts on strategy.

First, the basics
Held June 19 and starting at 11am, Bighorn is a very challenging 100-mile foot race taking place in Bighorn National Forest in Wyoming. The course is an out-and-back with some 76 miles of rugged single-track trail (yay!), 16 miles of rugged double track (yay to that, too!), and 8 miles of gravel road (boo!). A Hardrock and Western States qualifier, Bighorn has approximately 18,000 feet of climbing and 18,000 feet of descent. It appears to all be between 4,000 and 9,000 feet, which, to me (living at 6,200 feet), looks very manageable. From what I've read, it's in remote country, where wildlife sightings (e.g., moose) are common and confrontations have even happened. Runners may experience hot and cold weather, mud, snow, stream crossing, rain, thunderstorms, etc. There is a 34-hour cutoff.

Initial assessment
On paper, Bighorn might look similar to Leadville--out and back, mountains, about the same amount of elevation change, etc. But initial looks can be deceiving. From what I can gather from race reports such as an excellent 2014 report by Shad Mika, Bighorn is much more rugged than Leadville. Plus, while its total elevation change may be similar to Leadville, it seems to have bigger climbs and bigger descents. It looks like within the first 10 miles you gain ~4,000 vertical feet, much of it in the heat of the day. Then, from miles 30-50, as the sun is beginning to set, you gain what appears to be ~4,500 feet. You then lose that 4,500 feet from miles 50-70, which you're running at night. A little after that, you have a ~2,300-foot climb. At Leadville, the biggest single climb is the frontside of Hope Pass at ~3,400 feet, though I believe the backside climb of ~2,600 feet is far harder due to its steepness and the downhill traffic. Be that as it may, it looks like Bighorn has some big climbs and huge descents. It's too early to say which race is harder in my eyes--I won't know until I've done Bighorn! But it'll be interesting to compare the two.

To me, the single biggest factor that might make Bighorn more manageable is its elevation. I am usually quite OK below 8,000 feet. The vast majority of Bighorn is below 8K. The elevation at Leadville, and not the course itself, has been a killer for me over the years. Though I always seem to finish Leadville in under 25 hours, the elevation has destroyed my stomach and left my 100-mile confidence in shambles. So, while I know Bighorn is a monster and is considered one of the tougher 100s out there, I come to it wanting to turn over a new leaf. I need to get through a 100-miler with my stomach in good shape. I really need that. What I don't need is more puking, more fainting spells, etc. While I'm sure at Bighorn my stomach will have its ups and downs, I am hopeful that I can keep it in a good place overall. And it'll be great to have more aid stations at Bighorn.

Plus, I'm just really stoked about the mystery of Bighorn. That mystery has helped me rekindle some lost passion.

What I'll be focusing on in my training
In light of what I know now about Bighorn, here are a few things that will be on my mind as I really ramp up my training. The overarching goal of my buildup is to be super aerobically fit (which is now under way), but here are some specifics:

1) Bulletproof quads. I'm actually less concerned about the big climbs and more mindful of the huge descents. Why? Because you will lose a huge amount of time on descents if you suck at them. It's been the big reason I never did break 20 hours at Leadville--I suck at descending Hope Pass both ways (altitude does have something to do with it). If my quads fall apart as they did at Leadville in 2014, it's going to be a death march. So, I will be working to strengthen my quads and improve my descending. I was bombing descents in my training in the summer of 2013 but all of that fell apart when I shredded by ankle a few months before Leadville. I'll be looking to do some hard runs down mountains in my Bighorn training. From a time standpoint (2 hours round-trip), it's hard to get to Pikes Peak but I'm going to need to make it a priority. No mountain trashes my quads like Pikes. Other great places to trash the quads include Mount Falcon, Mount Herman, Roxborough State Park and Deer Creek Canyon.

2) Heat training. I have always run well in the heat and was born in the deep south, where the heat and humidity are stifling. But I'm sure that, living in Denver, my heat tolerance has gone down. I still remember how I felt going into Winfield last year, when it was starting to get "hot" (mid to high 70s but super sunny). So, I'll need to be ready for the heat at Bighorn. That means some mid-day runs and I'll also get some benefit from super long runs of close to 30 miles (as I did last summer). I have other tricks up my sleep (like driving in my car in the summer with the windows up and heat on).

3) Footing. Mud from snow melt and rain is apparently a big factor at Bighorn. I'm not a fan of mud (who is except those crazy Tough Mudder people?) but I've done my fair share of muddy races and I've had a few solid performances in the mud. I'm going to need to find some shoes with good traction. I've heard good things about the Hoka One One Rapa Nui, a trail shoe with solid grip. I'm also going to need to be mindful of controlling and preventing blisters in these wet, muddy conditions.

4) Uphill hiking. One of the really dumb things I do in my training is run up mountains that, in a 100-miler, I'd normally be hiking along with everyone else. I can cruise up the frontside of Hope Pass in a training run but in the race I'm hiking up the mountain like everyone else. So, in my Bighorn build-up, I'm going to try to take the pressure off myself when it comes to hiking up huge climbs. It's OK to mix in some hiking and not consider it failure--especially when in the race I'll be hiking the big climbs. In other words, more specificity in my training.

I'll also be mindful of nutrition. I now have a full line of hydration equipment, including a hydration vest that holds bottles, a belt that holds flasks, handhelds, etc. At this point, Generation UCAN is my go-to. That may change but for now it's good. Of vital importance will be keeping the salt intake up. Over the past few years, I've gotten away from salt intake in races and I think it's cost me. I used to be really good about it. Salt not only helps with absorption but it also helps keep the stomach happy.

About that 11am start
The 11am start is very interesting. Here's how it'll break down:

11am-9pm - Light (10 hours)
9pm-5am - Dark (8 hours)
5am-9pm - Light (16 hours)

So, a whopping 77 percent of the race is in the light. I'll need to nonetheless make sure I have a very good headlamp with two backups on me at all times so I don't loose too much pace at night. I'm not at all concerned about the cold; I know how to deal with it, having done Leadville five times. I'll also make sure I have an emergency poncho on me at all times.

Pacing
As far as pacing, Scott Schrader, who finished Leadville last year in under 25 hours, will be on hand. I have another buddy from Cleveland (will keep him anonymous for now) who is also interested. As always, I am eternally grateful to anyone who takes time out of their busy schedule to come help me run 100 miles.

Goals
What's a race without goals? Here are mine:

1) Finish - always the #1 goal with EVERY 100-miler I do. I respect the distance and come to 100s with a healthy level of fear and humility. The mountain doesn't care. That means I have to be at my best.
2) Under 24 hours
3) Compete for placement (top 20, top three masters, etc.)

If you're a Bighorn finisher or veteran, please chime in with advice. It is most welcome!

Onward and upward!

Tradeoffs, Training and 2015

This is my first post of 2015! So far, the year has gotten off to a pretty good start. With life constantly getting more and more complicated (especially from work and family scheduling standpoints), I continue making adjustments to keep things as simple as possible. That reminds me: Check out Duncan Callahan's latest Ultrarunnerpodcast.com interview as well as his "Burden of Self Improvement" blog post. I don't identify with all of what Duncan has included on his list, but I think we'll all agree that he's onto something.

When I think about my life now versus my life in 2007, before I was a dad, it's hard to believe the changes that have taken place. I didn't realize then how much free time I had! Being a dad is the greatest job in the world. It's not always easy, but the love I feel for my son and all of the joy he brings my wife and me and our entire family are beyond description. It's more fun than anything else. Every night, when I'm reading to my son, I realize that one day he'll be too old for his dad to lay in the bed next to him with a "Curious George" book in hand. So, I try to relish every moment. But I also realize that the good times will continue even when he's grown--just in different ways.

Whether we want to admit it or not, parenting requires tradeoffs. In order to be the dad (and husband) I want to be, I've had to give up certain things that were sucking up time or creating distractions. For example, I rarely have the time to join in on group runs anymore. It's just too damned hard to commit to others right now, especially when on Saturday mornings I'm often too tired to get out of bed before 6am to drive 45 minutes to the mountains (those runs are far better for me on Sundays), or we have stuff on the schedule. Over the past few years, I've also cut down on my racing schedule. I'll enter about a half-dozen races this year, with just a few of them being marathons and ultras. I also don't watch much TV. I've never been a big TV fan but these days I watch so little of it that I'm not at all informed about the latest shows, etc. The only things I do watch are the "news" and, occasionally, sports (that said, I am a Tour de France junkie and am glued to the TV in July). I also find it hard to keep up with my running magazines. I used to read them cover to cover; now I just glance over them and read only the articles that really interest me. Movies? It's hard to stay up-to-date on movies when I'm in bed early every night.

A big change I made recently, and am so glad I did so, is severely reducing the number of "friends" I have on Facebook. I've always thought Facebook was dumb and a waste of time, and yet I use it anyway. It had gotten to the point that my Facebook feed was littered with content from people I didn't even know. So, I went through my "friends" list and cut it down to the point that the only people I'm now connected to are people I personally know (family, friends, etc.). It's not that I didn't value the connections I had when my "friends" list was much bigger than it is now; it's just that I got to the place where I felt disconnected from what I was reading and who had posted it. Now when I log onto Facebook, I see content posted by people I know. I feel more of a connection.

Admittedly, my decision to cull my Facebook "friends" list wasn't arbitrary in the least. A few weeks ago, I allowed myself to become embroiled in a political debate on Facebook that got quite ugly. I was debating two guys who I didn't even know all that well. Suffice it to say, we hold very different political views. I see this kind of stuff frequently on Facebook--people arguing over this, that or the other thing when in really it's all a waste of time. As a friend told me after the above-mentioned dust-up, it's highly unlikely you'll change someone's mind on Facebook. And yet we hide behind our keyboards and argue with each other in ways that we'd never resort to in person. So, with that heinous episode behind me, I decided to sever connections with people I didn't know personally and with people whose content I found negative and toxic.

I'm also trying to find time to read. Over the past month or so, I read "Unbroken" and "Killing Kennedy." It's been good to put my devices down and read an actual book. Books unleash the mind in ways devices cannot. Louis Zamperini instantly became a hero of mine after I read "Unbroken." I admire the man not just for what he endured as a POW but also for living his life with faith, love and hope. As for Kennedy, though an imperfect man (as we all are), he remains one of my political idols.

***

So, there you have it--how my 2015 has gone so far. On the running front, my training is progressing nicely. I just logged another 70-mile week--my second 70+ mile week of the year. A few weeks ago, while in Dallas, I logged an outstanding 5x1-mile workout, going sub-6 on the last three with quarter-mile recoveries. Every week, I try to do at least one quality workout (intervals, tempo, etc.). I'm trying to keep the mileage at a decent level (70+) on weeks that we don't ski. And then on ski weeks, I'm allowing the mileage to come down a tad as I'm missing an entire day of running (Saturday). I don't sweat it too much; skiing delivers a heck of a workout anyway.

I honestly haven't thought a ton about Bighorn except for what my training will look like going into the big race on June 19. I have two events on my schedule leading up to Bighorn: 24 Hours of Palmer Lake Fun Run on April 11, and Cheyenne Mountain 50K on April 25 (my fourth Cheyenne). As tempting as it is, I'm not doing all 24 hours at Palmer Lake. Instead, I'll be running 6-8 hours and mostly focusing on getting in 30+ miles and testing my new nutrition "plan." Lots of other folks, as I understand it, use Palmer Lake in a similar way. It's at 7,300 feet--perfect early season Bighorn training.

Beyond those two events and maybe a spring half-marathon, it's going to come down to getting out on the trail for some long runs and logging some quality workouts here and there. I do like my chances at a solid result at Bighorn. First off, I have a knack for racing well in June. June just seems to be a good month for me. Second, the elevation at Bighorn isn't that bad, though the course is on technical, single-track mountain trail (which I like). And third, I seem to be on the right track with my diet. Carbs before a long run don't work for me. Instead, I'll have something along the lines of eggs and sausage or perhaps full-fat, plain Greek yogurt with berries and maybe a banana (admittedly, some of that includes carbs).

Whatever your race schedule in 2015 looks like, may it be epic!

2015

With 2014 starting to wind down, I've been thinking a lot about what I'm doing running-wise next year. Over the past few weeks, lots of thoughts have swirled through my brain. I've considered taking the year off from racing and doing my own thing, such as running the Hardrock course over three days at a time of my own choosing. In recent weeks, I've become fairly disillusioned with the state of ultrarunning. When I started running ultras in 2005 (not that long ago, mind you), you could register for most races the day of the event. These days, it seems the sport has been over-run, with demand far out-stripping available supply. Some events sell out in a matter of hours; some in a matter of minutes.

I don't mind saying I wish ultrarunning still operated mostly in the shadows. The sport has garnered attention for years, but not like it does today. Admittedly, I could be a hypocrite. On the one hand, I want ultrarunning to be underground. But on the other hand, I'm a runner/blogger.

Soaring demand for limited spots means a lot of things, including the need for ridiculously advance planning when it comes to one's race schedule. I don't like that. I think when one's decision to enter a race has to be made eight or more months in advance, spontaneity is lost. You may not mind registering that early, but I do. I like flexibility.

Of course, what's happening in ultras is just the product of market forces, so it's a waste of time to whine about it. It's been shown that, in down economies, running becomes more popular. With that, you also have a few best-selling books that have driven enormous numbers of runners into ultras. The Western States lottery has never been a gimme, but in 2014 your odds of getting in were, I believe, a mere 8 percent. With tighter entrance criteria for 2015, it'll be interesting to see what the odds are for the approaching Western States lottery, which I'll once again try for. Will the odds get better, get worse or stay about the same?

Then you have Leadville. I'm not even going to go into where I am with that race right now, other than to say it's an estranged relationship after much thought and soul-searching. Which brings me to 2015. After debating giving the middle finger to racing in the coming year, I have decided to once again take part in the madness. But I like to think I'm being much more discriminating with the races I choose to enter in 2015, opting for events I consider high-quality and genuine, along with hopefully a few "fat-asses." As of now, here's what things look like:

April: Cheyenne Mountain 50K
May: Golden Gate Dirty Thirty (50K)
June: Western States Endurance Run or Bighorn 100 (Bighorn registration done!)
August: Pikes Peak Marathon
October: Columbus Marathon

Obviously, Western States is a big question mark. Fortunately, I'll have a few tickets in the lottery (better than the one I had last year), and so I'll be hoping my name is drawn. Western States is a dream of mine. But if it's not meant to be in 2015, then I have a really sweet backup 100-miler that I'll be stoked to run--the Bighorn 100 just north of here, in Wyoming. From what I've heard, Bighorn delivers a genuine ultra experience and is a very challenging race with lots of vertical, lots of mud, an 11am start that has all entrants running through the night, lots of single track and lots of mountain terrain. Oh yeah, and it's a Hardrock qualifier. That's one of the reasons I loved Mohican back in the day--it was genuine and kind of "down home." I miss genuine.

I think the timing of Western States and Bighorn suits me well. I'm one of those runners who gets the bug in early April, when I start ramping up my mileage. By late June, I'm usually in really good shape. As the summer progresses, I start to go stale. A 100-miler in late June would mean I'd go into it in pretty awesome shape. I've never gone into Leadville fresh. But it seems I always run well in June.

The additional silver lining to a June 100 is that I'll be able to line up for the Pikes Peak Marathon later in the summer. I've never run PPM, but I've run the Barr Trail enough times to appreciate the challenge of racing up and back down that glorious 14'er to the south of Parker. I'm guessing by the time Pikes rolls around, I'll still be somewhat compromised by my 100 earlier in the summer, but I'll nonetheless take part in a race that I've dreamed of running for years.

The year would then wrap up with a go at the Columbus Marathon, where it all started for me in 2004. It's impossible to say what my goals for Columbus will be. The last time I ran Columbus (2008), I crossed in 2:59, hampered by a hamstring strain. It would be great to go back after all these years away--awesome course, awesome event, lots of memories.

Life is one big pendulum. Right now, ultrarunning is growing by leaps and bounds. In time, the growth will start to level off and things will become more manageable. For now, it's a race in and of itself just to get an entry in your favorite events.