The Spirit of Ultramarathoning

Yesterday I got this e-mail (which I slightly edited for better clarity) from a reader. I've responded below.

Dear Wyatt:

I really enjoyed your last post, especially the thoughts on Anton Krupicka. It got me to thinking about what my running friends and I call "the spirit of ultramarathoning." We're so wrapped up in the elites and what they're doing that we forget what the sport is all about, and that's the folks out there doing it because they love it no matter where they finish--back of the pack, middle of the pack or barely making the cutoffs.

Thanks,
Joey

Joey:

Tim Twietmeyer won Western States 5
times while holding down a full-time
gig at HP. Source: here.

Thanks for your e-mail. I couldn't agree more. While it's exciting to watch the elites and see and read about their amazing feats (like what Jim Walmsley was on the cusp of doing at Western States last year, before missing a turn--unreal), I agree that the spirit of ultrarunning is on full display in ordinary people out there running crazy distances and finishing races because it's what they love to do.

I saw this firsthand at the Greenland Trail 50K last year, when I was manning an aid station. I felt such love for the trail and the community from everyone who came through my aid station, especially the back-of-the-packers who were so easy-going and just happy to be out there despite the fact that we were experiencing a full-on blizzard. And I felt it at Western States last year when I saw a second sunrise while still on the course (it was a tough day-plus for me).

There was a time in my ultrarunning life when I was driven to win, podium or, at the least, finish top-5. When I stood at the starting line, that was what was going through my head. I didn't always have fun in these kinds of races--a lot of times I felt pressure that, looking back on it, I put on myself. It is amazing I didn't burn out, and I think the reason I never burned out was that beneath it all was a love of simply running in nature.

Now that I'm a bit older (and slower), I look at why I'm still doing ultras and it's because--probably like you and thousands of others--I love to run and I love the community. People like us have demanding jobs, families, lawns to mow and unending competing priorities, and yet we make the sacrifices to train for and finish ultras...because we love it and it's who we are deep down. And, honestly, that's how it was back in the day even with the elites. The guys and gals who were dominating in the 80s and 90s often had full-time jobs and families. Paid sponsorships? Pfft. They were punching the proverbial clock like the rest of us.

Which is to say being an ultrarunner has been, and probably always will be, about making sacrifices out of love for the sport that most people wouldn't make--waking up at 4am on a Saturday or Sunday to go for a long run, training when most people sleep, saying no to that second beer or glass of wine, going to bed at 9pm. No one is paying us to do this. We have no sponsors pressuring us. It's all about love and the community...and sacrifice. So, yes, I agree 100% with you: While I do think the elites embody the spirit of ultrarunning (they, too, love it), I feel that the spirit is truly sustained in ordinary people like us getting out there in nature and putting one foot in front of the other with like-minded folks, whether it's in a training run, at a local fat-ass event, or in an organized race.

Thanks,
Wyatt

Doping

Most of us already suspect that doping has infiltrated ultrarunning. To what degree it's infiltrated ultrarunning, we don't know. There are many ways to dope (EPO, steroids, HGH, etc.) and they all have one thing in common: cheating. Oh, yeah, doping can also be very dangerous. So, if you dope, in addition to being a cheater, you’re also playing with fire when it comes to your own health.

There’s no real system for catching dopers in ultrarunning. A few races might test here and there but truly effective testing comes down to a year-round program, including out-of-competition testing. In cycling, they have an impressive “biological passport” system. Almost any doping system is expensive, hard to administer and often fraught with varying levels of absurdity and corruption. There are no perfect systems, and often cheaters go undetected. Just look at the NFL and you’ll see a league bulging with ‘roiders and very few positive tests to show for it. Much of the time, testing programs are a joke—a façade.

That said, some high-profile elite road runners have been busted, including Rita Jeptoo. In the sprinting world, it seems tons of athletes have been caught. So, testing does work now and then. Some people are busted, but many go undetected because they’ve figured out how to beat the system, the system failed or (probably most commonly) they were never tested at all.

In the case of Jeptoo, she’s performing in a sport where prize purses hit six figures and there are sizable appearance fees. Big road racing has big money in it. The testing serves to protect the sport’s integrity and (try to) make sure there’s fair competition in the midst of big money for the top men and women and greedy corporate interest. Plus, you have governing bodies that provide some limited structure to testing programs.

In ultras, you have none of that. You have no real governing body, which means you have no testing system. And you have no money. Some people say money is coming to ultras. Really? In the grand scheme of things, those $10,000 prizes that just went to the top man and woman in race X are a drop in the bucket for big companies who just want to promote and market their brands.

The reality is that most ultras are volunteer-driven and organized by a guy or gal who’s operating on a shoe-string budget and is just hoping he/she doesn't lose too much money when all is said and done.

So what you have in ultra is a Wild West situation in which participants can, in theory and practice, do whatever they want as far as performance enhancing drugs—EPO, HGH, you name it—and get away with it. I do believe the vast majority of us don't dope and instead train and race the right way. But a few do cheat and that's concerning.

And this isn’t just about the "elites”; it’s also about less than scrupulous age groupers who might have good enough jobs to finance their PED use, which comes down to satisfying their own ego and impressing others. People will cheat to impress others. It’s naïve to say people will only cheat to win money or fame. People break the rules all the time and justify it one way or the other. Never underestimate the allure of impressing others. I don’t get it, but there are lots of people out there who want praise. A little EPO might help in that regard.

From where I’m sitting, until the bona fide running elites start racing ultras, there will never be big money in the sport—which means no testing system. What do I mean by bona fide elites? Well, in Kenya they have over 30 men who can run a 2:05 marathon. In American ultrarunning, and maybe worldwide ultrarunning, there’s not a single man who gets even close to 2:05 that I can think of. So in a sport where you don’t have the fastest long-distance runners in the world competing, how can you expect money to make its way into the mix and a testing system to form? Neither is going to happen.

So we find ourselves in a “sport” lacking organization, a testing system and real money to get anything done.

As naïve as it may sound, the best we can hope for is for ultrarunners to train and race with integrity. It’s possible a few high-profile races can implement testing (and that would be great), but the prospect of a comprehensive testing system is bleak unless ultra evolves in ways few of us could ever imagine.

Let’s all be honest competitors and participants with integrity.

If You Want to Finish Leadville, Here's the #1 Most Important Thing You Must Do

Damn, I love provocative headlines!

With the Leadville Trail 100-Mile Run now a little over two weeks away, those of us entered in "The Race Across the Sky" are undoubtedly in our taper or about to begin the taper. Leadville is a fairly unique race in that it's between 9,200 feet and 12,600 feet the whole way. One hundred miles is hard enough; throw in some high altitude and mountain passes and the challenge becomes even tougher.

If this is your first time toeing the line at Leadville and you're unfamiliar with what it's like in the high country and Colorado Rockies, this post is for you (as is my two-part Guide to Finishing Leadville)!

A lot goes into successfully finishing Leadville. You don't want to go out too fast. You need to stay hydrated and fueled. Your stomach needs to stay happy, though you can almost bank on a few queasy moments (or worse). You need to show grit when you're doing the big climbs and thoughts of hopelessness (pun intended) are swimming through your brain. All of that is important, and it's what you'll hear about on Friday afternoon when we all gather for the very motivational pre-race meeting, which I highly recommend.

But there's one thing you may not have thought about, especially if you're coming from sea level. Hell, I even know a few Coloradans who have overlooked or forgotten about this one super-important thing. It's something that can totally end your race.

Are you ready?

Me in the finisher's tent after
crossing the line last year. Note the hat,
sweatshirt and vest. I also had gloves--
and I was still cold.

Stay warm and dry. There's a saying here in Colorado and it goes something like this: "If you don't like the weather in Colorado, give it five minutes."

At Leadville, expect everything from sunny skies and temps in the high 70s during the day to hail, rain/lightening storms of the biblical variety and, yes, snow, especially when you're on Hope Pass. Even if during the day the temperature is in the 70s and the sun is out and life is beautiful, you can expect the mercury to plummet into the 30s after sunset. Cold nights in Leadville are the norm. It's especially cold around Turquoise Lake, which you'll be running along very late in the race (with no other aid stations before the finish). If you aren't in warm clothing after the sun sets and especially along the lake, you will risk hypothermia. And, if you go hypothermic, your race is pretty much over.

So, be sure to have:

• Rain gear. Get a waterproof jacket and hat--maybe some waterproof gloves, too.
• Warm clothing that will keep you toasty in temperatures as low as 30 degrees. Usually when running in cool temps it's OK to dress on the light side as our bodies heat up with movement. Not so in Leadville after night fall. Dressing on the light side after sunset will get you a DNF.
• Emergency poncho. I highly recommend you carry one at all times, especially if we have cloud cover.

One final note: Under no circumstances is littering acceptable on the trail or anywhere on the course. Sometimes stuff falls out of pockets and we don't notice. But it's totally not OK for anyone to intentionally throw trash, such as an empty gel package, on the trail. That is not cool and it will result in a disqualification.

As for me, well, I'm in shape (I think). Those long tempo runs and long trail runs seem to have me ready even as I dropped my peak weekly volume buy 15%. I did a MAF test yesterday morning and averaged 6:30 pace for five miles, with a one-second drop in time when you compare my mile-1 split with my mile-5 split. Not bad. It's my best-ever MAF test result. But MAF tests don't mean much when you're climbing Hope Pass or Powerline. So, we'll see how things shake out. But I do think I have experience on my side and I also think my nutrition plan is solid.

Have a great taper and race. I hope to see you in Leadville!

Stoutest Records in Ultrarunning / Training Update

First off, a word on my poll (which is still open!). The question is, what's the stoutest record in ultrarunning? The choices are:

• Bruce Fordyce - 4:50/50 miles
• Yiannis Kouros - 188 miles/24 hrs.
• Timothy Olson - 14:46/2012 WS100
• Don Ritchie - 6:10/100K
• Ann Trason - 14 WS100 wins
• Matt Carpenter - 15:42/Leadville 100
• Karl Meltzer - 35 career 100M wins

I realize that we could add quite a bit to that list (e.g., Kyle Skaggs’ Hardrock record, Scott Jurek’s seven consecutive Western States wins, Oleg Kharitonov's 100-mile record, etc.). In the interest of simplicity, I selected the records that most stood out to me.

To me, the most impressive record is Kouros’ 188 miles, followed by Don Ritchie’s 100K mark. Let me explain why by first eliminating the others.

Olson: I believe Tim Olson's 2012 Western States record, how ever amazing it is (and one could argue Ellie Greenwood’s 2012 record is even more impressive), will fall if the weather cooperates (a big if) and/or a world-class runner like Olson himself, Max King, Kilian Jornet, etc. has a very good day (entirely possible). The Western States record has fallen two times in the past three years. Who's to say 14:46 is the lowest it's going to get? Disclaimer: One might ask why I didn’t include Ellie Greenwood’s 2012 Western States record on the list. My reason: I believe it’s an indication of more to come from Greenwood. I also think Lizzy Hawker could make a run at it.

Fordyce: A few runners have come close to Fordyce’s nearly 30-year-old record, in which he averaged a blistering 5 minutes, 48 seconds per mile for 50 miles (equating to nearly two consecutive 2:33 marathons). There are world-class marathoners who could probably make a run at that pace for 50 miles if they trained specifically for it. Right now, there’s just not much interest in going hard and fast for 50 miles on the road. A prize purse could change that. Someone (Josh Cox? Sage Cannady? Max King?) needs to give it a go!

Trason: Ann Trason’s 14 Western States wins is an incredible record and I think it's in the conversation with the most ridiculous records of all time, but I think many of us agree that there are runners today, such as the Queen herself (Ellie Greenwood), who are perhaps capable of even more. Pound for pound, Ellie Greenwood is in my opinion the best overall ultrarunner in the world (how many runners out there can finish second at Comrades and then break the record at Western States?). She’s smart and, if she stays healthy, she’s going to break most, if not all, of Trason’s records. Of course, that would require her to remain a world-class talent into her mid-40s—a tough, though doable, proposition (see Nikki Kimball, Connie Gardner et al) if she wants it. And it would require a conscience, sustained effort to break Trason's records.

Carpenter: Carpenter’s Leadville record, which I would elevate above Kyle Skaggs’ Hardrock record (which I think Kilian Jornet or a healthy Anton Krupicka will eventually break) and maybe even above Olson’s Western States record, hasn’t been seriously threatened yet, though Anton Krupicka certainly went after it a few years ago. I think many of us would agree that a guy like Kilian Jornet could make a run at it, but it will require a perfect day. Running at that pace at 10,000+ feet for 100 miles, with the Hope Pass double crossing, is crazy stupid. In his prime, Carpenter could have beaten anyone on any day and should have bagged the course records at Hardrock, Wasatch and maybe Western States, but he never did those races. The guy was super human and a downright freak in terms of mountain running skills. His 2:01 ascent of Pikes Peak is--well--freakish.

(Matt, if you're reading this, I'd love to interview you for my blog!)

Meltzer: Melter has won 35 100-milers and there’s every indication he’s going to keep adding to that number. Some people accuse Meltzer, who is a runner I very much respect, of cherry-picking races. That may be true in a few instances, but what about his many victories at top races like Hardrock, Wasatch, Massanutten, Run Rabbit Run, San Diego and Bear? That said, there are guys like Hal Koener who could beat Meltzer’s mark if they stay healthy. Yes, that would require some cherry-picking. And while on the topic of Speedgoat Karl, I truly think he's going to kill it at this year's Western States. The guy may be in his mid-40s, but he's running very well right now and it wouldn't surprise me if he finishes on the podium especially if it's a hot race and there's lots of carnage at the front. Yep, I just said that.

The GOAT (Greatest of All Time): Yiannis Kouros

In the end, I give the nod to "the Great Greek," Yiannis Kouros, with honorable mention to Ritchie. When Yiannis Kouros ran 188 miles in 24 hours in 1997, he said his record would stand for generations. The man has never been one to overstate things, which is to say he knew at the time that what he'd just done was even crazier than a one-in-a-lifetime feat. No one has come close to his 24-hour record since then. The current American record is a stout 172 miles, set by Mike Morton—that’s a full 16 miles short of Kouros’ mark. Kouros, like Carpenter, is from a different planet.

As for Ritchie, he average 5 minutes, 57 seconds per mile for 62 miles. While I can see a world-class marathoner making a run at Fordyce’s record, I’m struggling to see how they could hold a similar pace for an additional 12 miles. I see Ritchie’s mark standing for a while longer. If road ultras ever go big money, it might fall.

So there you have it! Please chime in with your thoughts!

***

Last week (Apr. 8-14) was dedicated to recovery and that meant about a 25% drop in my mileage. On the week, I logged 57 miles, a full 20 fewer miles than the previous week’s 77. I ran six of the seven days and finished off the recovery week with a 15-miler on the hilly Highlands Ranch backcountry trails, fighting vicious gusts.

 

I’m still trying to figure out what proactive recovery means. Does it mean a reduction in miles while still running the same number of days as usual? Or does it mean extra days off from the normal routine? Or does it mean some of both? The good news is that I’m still early enough in my Leadville 100 training to experiment a bit with recovery and see what my body and mind need.

 

These past few months have been interesting, to say the least. I’m starting to see the value in simplicity. Rather than do lots of crazy, elaborate stuff with my training, I think I just want to run a bunch. I often daydream about long runs in the mountains (shirtless, of course) and big excursions to Leadville to train on the course. I know that, when winter finally blows through here and the snow recedes, those opportunities will come. I plan to take full advantage of the summer! But I don’t plan to make my summer all about Leadville, as I’ve done in the past. At this point, what’s most important to me is enjoying the summer and having good times with family and friends.

 

I’m dedicated to my Leadville training but I’m allowing myself to feel any pressure. Pressure is what takes the fun out of training and racing. And why even feel pressure when it’s all self-inflicted and not at all coming from anyone or anything else? Without pressure, you’re left to enjoy the simple act of running. If that simple act involves 100 miles a week, that’s great. If it involves 70 miles a week, that’s great, too.

 

***

 

Next Saturday I'll be lining up for my third consecutive Cheyenne Mountain 50K. Last year's race went pretty well, as I finished fifth overall with a 4:50, though I weakened a bit in the end. The year before that (2011), I ran the race mostly as a training run and finished strong as an ox. This year, I'm not sure what I'll be looking for. But right now I'm in decent shape and I look forward to upping the volume a bit more and gradually adding in some quality starting in May. The Cheyenne course plays to my strengths--it's mostly below 7,000 feet of elevation and it's hilly terrain with no big climbs. In the past, I've raced well on such terrain. The one big X factor is that Cheyenne has some technical spots and I haven't done much technical trail running yet this year.

For this week (Apr. 15-21), I'm putting in between 75-80 miles and on Sunday will go 22-25 miles on the trail. It's entirely possible I'll train right through Cheyenne, skipping any kind of taper. I'll make a decision on Sunday night!

Ramping Up for the Marathon / Ultrarunner of the Year Thoughts

Now that I've turned the corner in my recovery from a minor surgical procedure I've been putting off for too long, my thoughts are turning to the Rock 'n Roll Arizona Marathon in Pheonix on January 20. I've already registered for the race and booked my hotel room. I still need to get my flight. These are important steps in the mental engagement process.

Of course, the biggest factors in preparing for a race aren't getting a hotel room or even registering (though certainly both are vital). The most important things you can do are dedicate yourself to the goal at hand and do the right training. My goal is to run a 2:55 in Phoenix. I've begun running again, after a full week off as I recovered, and have set October 1 as the official start of my marathon training.

My training is going to be much more strategic than in years past. It used to be that I just ran a bunch of miles, including speedwork, tempo runs and long runs, and showed up at the start hoping for the best. Usually, things worked out well (yeah, those were the good 'ole days). This time around, what most matters to me is peaking on race day and being 100% healthy. I'm re-reading Daniels' Running Formula (which I first read in 2006) and am focusing heavily on the build-up stages I'm going to need to do to get in peak shape. Right now, I'm just trying to re-establish my fitness, as I lost a step or two just from that week off. Plus, I'm still not 100% from the procedure.

Contrary to what Paul Ryan might have us think, breaking three hours in the marathon is a challenge for most of us. I know because I've done it three times (in a row). You have to put in the right kind of training, which includes fast stuff and long stuff. Over the past few years I think I've gotten lazy with my long runs, instead going on lots of outings of 18 or fewer miles and then maybe doing a double later in the day so that I could say, yeah, I did 22 or 23 miles that day. But no matter how you slice it, there's no substitute for a good, quality 20-22-miler when you're training for a marathon--just as 30-35-milers are incredibly important to preparing for a 100-miler. There's no substitute for a focused tempo run. And there's nothing quite like hammering it around a track or doing fast fartleks.

As much as I'm excited about Phoenix, I've had moments where I've felt pulled to do another ultra this year. With my DNF at Leadville, I don't meet the qualification criteria for Western States in 2013. That really sucks because I would have had an extra ticket in the lottery. I thought for a brief moment in time about finding a qualifying 50-miler and gettin' it done, but that would just interfere with my marathon PR goal. So, after doing some soul-searching, I've decided not to do any more ultras this year and instead focus on getting ready for Phoenix, which I think will establish a super-solid base for my Leadville training.

I'm also thinking a little about 2013. I know there's Phoenix on January 20 and the Leadville 100 in August. I'm going to race less and instead use the time to train on the Leadville course and get 100% comfortable with every section, mostly notably the entire Hope Pass section (from Twin Lakes to Winfield and back). But I'd like to do a few races. I'm considering the Lt. JC Stone 50K, a road race in Pittsburgh that's run on the old GNC Ultras course, in March. I did the JC Stone in 2009, finishing fifth overall with a 3:46 despite a hideous upper-respiratory bug, and it's a great race. I'd love to go back to the Mt. Evans Ascent--there's something about that race. Then there's the Leadville Trail Marathon in June. We'll see.

***

Final note: I don't know about you, but in my mind 40-year-old Mike Morton is a lock for Ultrarunner of the Year. His record-breaking 172.457-mile performance at the 24-hour World Championship in Poland a few weeks ago just sealed the deal. Averaging 8:21 pace for 24 hours--and that includes refueling and bathroom stops--is just insane (even more insane: Yiannis Kouros' world record 188 miles in 24 hours). This year alone, Mike's had three 100-milers all under 14 hours (winning each), a near record-setting win at Badwater and of course that eye-popping performance at the 24-hour worlds. I do think Tim Olson should get consideration, especially for Performance of the Year (though here again I think Mike is the favorite with his 24-hour result), but Mike has clearly had the best year of any ultrarunner out there.

For the women, I think Connie Gardner, who logged 149.368 miles at the 24-hour worlds to set a new American record, should get Performance of the Year. Of course, the venerable Ellie Greenwood, who may one day best many of Ann Trason's records, gets the women's UROY.

I guess some may say I'm crazy for not thinking Ellie and Tim should get Performance of the Year for their incredible Western States records. Those were great results for sure, but let's not forget that the weather that day was insanely cool compared to the norm. In areas of the course where the temp usually hits 100+ degrees, people were wearing jackets.

In summary:

• Ultrarunner of the Year/Men: Mike Morton (landslide victory)
• Ultrarunner of the Year/Women: Ellie Greenwood (landslide victory)
• Performance of the Year/Men: Mike Morton, 24-hour worlds (narrowly edges out Tim Olson, Western States)
• Performance of the Year/Women: Connie Gardner, 24-hour worlds (very narrowly edges out Ellie Greenwood, Western States)

I can't end this post without also throwing out props to a runner who I've admired for years and recently collected his 31st career win at the 100-mile distance. At the tender age of 44, he beat out some seriously fast dudes nearly half his age, and in the process he earned a five-figure paycheck for yet another great day at the office. Congratulations to one of my heroes, Karl Meltzer, a.k.a. the Wasatch Speedgoat, on winning the inaugural Run Rabbit Run 100-Mile. Karl's mojo is legendary and, yeah, for him, "100 miles isn't that far."

Final thought: Karl's win at Run Rabbit Run, because of his age, was every bit as surprising to me as Hal Koerner's amazing win at Hardrock this year (Hal lives in Ashland, Oregon, which is at a paltry 1,800 feet, but grew up in Colorado). The smart money was on guys like Joe Grant and Dakota "Young Money" Jones to win Hardrock, but ultimately Hal, being a grizzled veteran, got 'er done, just as Karl brought it at Run Rabbit Run.

Let me know what your thoughts are on who gets UROY and Performance of the Year!

In Defense of Hokas...and My Analysis of "Minimalism"

In the running world, all you have to do is utter the word "minimalism" and suddenly everyone has an opinion. If I had a nickle for every Christopher McDougall/Caballo Blanco-inspired runner I've seen at the Leadville 100 clad in Vibrams (or even huaraches), I'd be a rich man and could retire today...but not as rich as McDougall himself!

Although many would say "The Book" has been a primary driving force behind the burgeoning minimalist and "barefoot" movement, the fact of the matter is that modern-day running shoes have endured many trends over the years--from light and basic to big and clunky and everything in between. When you look at what many runners especially in the 1970s and even 1980s wore (pretty low-profile racing flats but nothing like Vibrams), what folks wore in the 1990s and early 2000s (big, clunky shoes) and what's hot these days (Vibrams and barefoot running), you could easily argue that what we're experiencing now is really "minimalism 2.0 on steroids."
 

The Bondi B's

Amid the minimalist movement, shoe racks full of Vibrams, and market share-savvy companies like New Balance and Nike jumping on the "less is more" bandwagon, along comes Hoka One One, a European outfit that has introduced innovative--and super-expensive--shoes that appear quite bulky and heavy and are sometimes dissed as looking "clown"-like. Ah, but looks can be deceiving. As almost any proud Hoka owner would attest (I'm on my FOURTH pair of Bondi B's and will likely be a lifer), Hokas are anything but bulky, heavy and Bozo-like. Yes, they have a lot of EVA, but EVA is light, soft and protective. The uppers are pretty simple, contributing to the relative light weight of Hokas. Ultimately, what you have in Hokas is tremendous responsiveness and a surprisingly light, comfy pair of shoes suitable for all distances--from 5,000 meters to 100-mile and 24-hour races (though I prefer light-weight trainers in "sprint" races like 5Ks). In many respects, Hokas are in a category all to themselves.

No matter what Hoka lovers may say, the minimalists and barefooters out there are undeterred, and God bless them for it. Maybe they're the lucky ones and those of us who wear Hokas are the less fortunate...or even unenlightened. Many of the minimalists contend that we have been sold a bill of goods by the big shoe companies (aka "Big Shoe") that want us to believe more support is better and will help prevent injury. Alas, some of these same big shoe companies have recently begun adding minimalist products to their lines, only feeding the confusion as to what's best for the runner. We are, the minimalists say, born to run barefooted, and so why impede the natural movement of the foot with tanks like Hokas?

For whatever it's worth, here's what I think: We weren't born to run per se. We were born to be active and work hard for what we need. It could be said that running was to "prehistoric" beings a means to an end. In "prehistoric" times, when there weren't King Soopers and Safeways around every rock, we put a lot of physical effort into hunting and gathering...because our lives depended on it. Meat was a big deal; you had to work super hard to kill an animal, sometimes running dozens of miles until the exhausted animal collapsed and died. But that was only part of the effort. You had to work almost just as hard bringing the bounty back to your loved ones and defending your catch from invaders. And animals weren't just a source of food; furs and hides were used for clothing. Most of the time, you ate vegetarian fare--and it sufficed. And when you weren't eating, you worried about things like fortifying your shelter, staying warm (or cool), protecting your family and friends, finding clean water, etc. All of that required some level of activity, including running and hiking.

But our ancestors didn't run for fitness. If a "caveman" ran 20, 30 or 40 miles, it wasn't training; it was to chase down a deer, evade capture, maybe deliver a message or get back home. And those who did the running were usually the best athletes, i.e., the ones who were the most physiologically gifted. No one even knew what fitness in the modern sense was back then. Being fit was part and parcel of survival; the best athletes reigned supreme and brought home the bacon. Also, they didn't have paved roads like we do. Their pursuits took them across pastures, meadows and calderas, up and down mountains, along treacherous ridges, and over downed trees and big rocks (all of which the Jemez 50M and Hardrock 100 deliver). Well-groomed trails were rare. Their feet, unlike ours today, were conditioned from childbirth to withstand tremendous punishment and were strong in muscle and connective tissue. Our feet today are none of that, in large part because we've been wearing supportive shoes since birth, sitting down a lot, driving our cars to King Soopers for food instead of chasing down and/or picking our grub, living in relatively low-maintenance shelters, etc.

All of that said, no one really knows for sure whether minimalism today is a good or bad thing, or even the "natural way." People who run in Vibrams, New Balance's line of minimalist trail shoes, and the like swear by them. By the same token, people who run in Hokas believe their way is the best way (especially for older runners). So essentially what shoes you wear, if you even choose to wear shoes, is a matter of personal preference. Me? My preference is Hokas, thank you very much.

***

And now let's enjoy an awesome tune that always gets me fired up and ready to get 'er done.

Ultrarunning as an Egalitarian, Outlaw Sport

I ran my first ultra in 2005 and was quickly hooked. Over the past few years, I've taken to learning as much about ultrarunning as I could. I've read nearly every book about ultrarunning that I could find, including a few--like this one and that one--that are exceptionally good. I've watched several ultrarunning films (this one and that one remain the best I've seen to date). One thing I've learned about ultrarunning--or at least I think I've learned--is that this sport has a long tradition of being egalitarian and outlaw in nature. What do I mean by that?

We all know about the running/jogging boom that swept the nation in the 1970s, during the time of Frank Shorter and Bill Rodgers. At about this same time, when many folks were getting into recreational running, modern-day ultrarunning began taking root through the work of pioneers like Ted Corbitt of New York City, Gordy Ainsleigh of California and others. What followed was the development of a sport that directly contrasted with the proliferating jogging movement and big-money road racing. Ultras were held across the nation, attracting next to no attention. The sport largely existed in the shadows, and that was OK to the few who toed the line in races.

Ultrarunning's growth in the 80s was never really about money; it was about people wanting to test their limits and go the distance on trail and road. Even today, most races are still put on by volunteers and operated on a shoe-string budget. In an era of million-dollar professional athletes, the prize for winning an ultramarathon has traditionally been squat, save a buckle if it's a 100-miler, maybe a medal, and in some cases a trophy like the famed Cougar at Western States. Which is to say the sport has traditionally treated its winners (elites) no different than its mid-packers and back-of-the-packers. In fact, many races celebrate the last-place finisher, like at the Mohican 100, which awards a hand-made "Last of the Mohicans" trophy. Another example of the sport's egalitarian nature can be seen in the legendary Hardrock 100. Hardrock makes everyone enter its lottery, with no reserved spots for anyone--not even the best mountain runners in the world--except those who have previously finished the race. A lottery is unfortunate, but I applaud Hardrock for its ability to create a system that favors no one except its own. I think somewhere along the line the egalitarian nature of ultrarunning wasn't an organic, "accidental" phenomenon, but rather an intentional goal.

Most incredible about ultrarunning is the fact that its participants are a humble lot. This is extraordinary. To run distances of 100 miles or more and yet maintain a humble nature says a lot about the average ultrarunner. I think it says that when you reach the depths of your soul, as many of us do in long races, you find out what really matters in life--perseverance, belief in self, family, and, for me, the knowledge that true strength comes from something far greater than I (dare I say God?). As is often the case, after an epic race we're back in the office on Monday morning and say nothing of what we did over the weekend.

I voice these thoughts because they're really on my mind (maybe this is what happens when you're injured like I am right now with Achilles tendonitis). With the steady emergence of prize purses, feature-length documentaries spotlighting elite ultrarunners, and Tour de France-like racing teams bankrolled by corporations, I can't help but wonder if the egalitarian, outlaw nature of the sport is becoming a thing of the past. I hope not. My greatest hope for ultrarunning is that we never lose sight of what makes this the greatest sport of all: the fact that we're all like-minded, united and equal, regardless of skill or talent level, in our love of testing our limits by running a long way on road and trail.

Random Observations and What I Think about Ultrarunner of the Year

I think it's possible that I'm done with big races for the year. My time off from work for the rest of the year (especially with the holidays approaching) is very limited and so traveling for a key event is going to be tough. Plus, I'm just not motivated to travel right now. I will still do some shorter stuff, such as 5K, 10K and half-marathon races. The only race out there I would drop anything to do is the Across the Years 24-hour, but a scheduling conflict stands in the way.

This video nicely sums out why I love Leadville so much...and why I'll be toeing the line for every LT100 my body lets me run.



Hoka One Ones might be the worst thing that ever happened to me. They're so soft and comfy that they've rendered my other shoes quite uncomfy. So why is that bad? you ask. Well, Hokas go for about $170 a pair. Yikes!

Stay tuned for an interview with Phil McCarthy, who recently won his second 24-hour national championship and is also the owner of the American record for 48 hours.

On Saturday night I paced George Zack for 15 miles at the Boulder 100. This was George's first 100-miler and he did a really nice job, finishing second overall. I had a great time out there and was honored to join many others in helping GZ achieve his goal. The Boulder 100 is a no-fills course that's an out and back along the Boulder Reservoir. The route is a mixture of pavement, dirt and gravel and is pretty flat. I see it as a course built for a fast time. Anyway, the takeaway is this: If you want to do a 100 and have never done one, pace someone before taking the plunge. I had never paced anyone before my first 100 and I wish I had.

Last week I tallied 70.52 miles, including 31 miles on Saturday alone. I'd like to stay right at 70 miles a week for the rest of the year. I'm going to end 2011 with about 3,600 miles--kind of a down year mileage-wise but, then again, my foot injury from last summer and fall had me starting out slow this year.

A few nights ago I dreamed I was in the Western States 100. I've contemplated entering Western for a few years. I knew the itch would eventually need to be scratched and hopefully next June I'll be lining up at Squaw Valley Ski Resort for 100 miles of fun, followed by the Leadville 100 seven weeks later. Unfortunately, the lottery system makes entry in Western pretty difficult, so I'm trying not to get ahead of myself. But right now it's hard not to be giddy by the thought of running in that historic race.

I'm watching the Leadville Race Series website like a hawk, just waiting for LT100 registration to open!

Now for the good stuff.... A lot of people in the blogosphere are talking about Ultrarunner of the Year and who should bring home the honors. This is a North American award, meaning it goes to the top male and female ultrarunners from the US and Canada. Which is to say a guy like Kilian Jornet is ineligible. Whatever. Until the award is expanded to an international athlete base, it is what it is. Looking at the North American ultrarunning landscape, it seems to me Dave Mackey and Ellie Greenwood get major consideration.

In ultrarunning, the one-size-fits-all approach doesn't apply. Would Kilian beat Dave Mackey or Michael Wardian in a 100-mile mountain race with altitude? Probably. Would Dave beat Kilian in a 50-mile or 100K race? Probably. Who would win in a 50K or 100K road race--Kilian, Dave Mackey or Michael Wardian? Easy--Wardian. Would Kilian stand a chance against Max King in a 50K trail race? I'm guessing not. If Kilian were in a 24-hour race against Phil McCarthy, who would win? Probably McCarthy. What I'm getting at is that I don't really think one event is superior to another, regardless of mileage involved. I think a 2:50 50K is just as impressive as a 14-hour 100-miler. In ultras, you have specialties. Rarely can a guy or gal do them all really well.

Races that I really want to do before I'm too old to run:

• Western States 100 (see above)
• Hardrock 100
• Wasatch 100
• Bear 100
• HURT 100
• Across the Years 24-Hour
• Spartathlon (153-mile race in Greece)
• Comrades

10 Things I Think I Think (Ultrarunning Edition)

Man, the ultrarunning blogosphere has been alive lately with new and creative insights, banter and even controversy! Taking a page from the playbook of Sports Illustrated's Peter King and GZ himself, here are 10 things I think I think.

1) This isn't the first time a non-North American might be considered deserving of the Ultrarunner of the Year Award...and yet is ineligible. First off, understand that UROY goes to the top North American male and female ultrarunners and is awarded by Ultrarunning Magazine, which has been around since the days of the mimeograph, bicycle messenger and C.C. Pyle. I'm not even kidding. A panel of 18 race organizers from all regions of North America submit ballots. Which is to say the award is specifically for North American athletes (read: US and Canada).

Yiannis Kouros

Getting back to my original point: There may be some who claim Kilian Jornet of Spain is clearly the top ultrarunner for 2011, and what a shame it is that he can't get UROY so they say. And since The King himself isn't eligible for UROY, well, let's just blow up the award since it's clearly out of whack with the now-international nature of the sport. Now for a history lesson for those who think ultrarunning has only recently gone international (or, as one person recently wrote, "going going gone international"). Back in the 1980s, 1990s and early 2000s--yeah, I know, ancient history--there was a guy named Yiannis Kouros who was from Greece (and later Australia) and dominated the sport like no one else, and yet he was ineligible for UROY. For those unfamiliar with Yiannis, he has the world records for 24 hours, 48 hours, 6 days, 100 miles, 1,000 kilometers, 1,000 miles and even 12 hours. He once ran 188 miles in 24 hours for a world record. Let me say that again: he once ran 188 miles in 24 hours, which breaks down to 7.8 miles per hour, or 7:41 per mile. That's a hefty 23 miles beyond Scott Jurek's current America record of 165.7. I think Yiannis even once ran to the moon..and back...in a single day. He's also won the 153-mile Spartathlon race more than any other person in the history of the Earth. And yet he never scored Ultrarunner of the Year since it's a North American honor.

The takeaway is this: We love to think all things here and now are bigger and better (and sometimes worse, as in the current Great Recession) than anything that's ever happened before. That's often not true. If it happened today, it probably happened before. There's a precedent for almost everything. You just have to find it. Exhibit A: Kilian Jornet as today's Yiannis Kouros--only with freakish trail skills (and not quite the pure speed The Great One had). Let's not go overboard in dissecting UROY and just enjoy the award for what it is...a great honor for deserving North American ultrarunners.

2) Even though I'm still figuring out the 100-mile race, I believe success in 100s comes down to consistency with training over a long period. Show me the guy/gal who consistently runs back-to-back 20s, along with a steady diet of daily mileage and quality (along with some recovery), and I'll show you someone who will, nine times out of ten, beat the weekend warrior who runs 30 or 40 on Saturday, takes Sunday off or super easy and then sleeps in too much during the week.

3) It's not the elite guys and gals who make ultrarunning interesting and inspiring. It's the guy you meet at a race or in your local club who used to smoke three packs a day and/or drink himself under the table and then one day a light went off and he decided to go for a run. These guys--you know, the ones with leathery skin, endless war stories to tell, ankle gaiters and a closet full of buckles--are truly the toughest among us, grinding out 28- or 29-hour 100s because they love it. We all know one or two of these guys. I do.

4) Contrary to prevailing wisdom, success in the last 40 miles of a 100 isn't all mental. Don't get me wrong; mental toughness is a huge part of those final 40 miles. But what really counts is whether or not you did the right kind of training. Physical strength feeds a strong mind.

5) Ultrarunning is never going to be mainstream, but it will continue to grow. Running 50 miles, 100 kilometers or even 100 miles is never going to be a mainstream endeavor. Most people think marathons are insane. Though ultrarunning is a huge part of our own lives, the bottom line is that the overwhelming majority of Americans have never heard of the sport or even Dean Karnazes.

6) It's a shame ultrarunning is now about trails and not also about the road. Ultrarunning's roots go back to time-based events on tracks as well as transcontinental runs. Not too long ago events like the Edmund Fitzgerald 100K, GNC Ultras and Olander Park 24-Hour--all road races--were among the premier races in the nation. They're all gone now (note: The North Coast 24 in Cleveland has kind of replaced the old Olander Park races, which were near Toledo, while the Lt. JC Stone 50K has kind of replaced the GNC Ultras and is actually run on the same course, though it doesn't offer a 100K option). Bucking the shift toward the trail, the Badwater Ultramarathon continues to thrive but is still pretty niche.

7) I worry about crap that is a waste of time for me to worry about. Why should I care that USATF national championship races fall short in attracting the best in the sport? Why should I care about Salomon Running, Ultrarunner of the Year, the death of the Ed Fitz, etc., etc.? My only concern as far as ultrarunning goes should be the next training run because that's living The Gift.

8) Spartathlon is, to me, more enticing than Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc. Spartathlon is a nearly 153-mile race between Athens and Sparta that is run on road and trail. Scott Jurek won Spartathlon three times. It's on my bucket list big time--way ahead of UTMB. So is Comrades. At the end of the day, I'm a road warrior.

9) The marathon is hard to figure out...at least for me. It's easy to run 20 miles hard. What's not easy is figuring out the right pace that is sustainable for 26.2 miles and gets you to the finish line with a new PR and nothing left in the tank. My current marathon PR is 2:58. Honestly, I should be down in the mid 2:40s.

10) Running a 100-mile race in 29 hours is harder than running it in 15 hours. When you see the sun rise for a second time (which I've never seen, thank God), you've been out there grinding away for a long, long time.

Searching for Fulfillment

I'm reading Dean Karnazes' new book, Run!. My feelings about Dean are well-documented on this blog, so I'll avoid going there for now. Soon I'll be posting a full review of Run!, but for now I want to share a reflection on a theme throughout his new book--a theme that Dean, who very much has his finger to wind, clearly wants to get across to the reader.

Like Christopher McDougall, Dean has hit on something that many people are feeling these days--the need to transcend self, explore, discover true fulfillment amid so much material anxiety, find an escape and ultimately become one with nature. "One with nature" has become a trite expression, but in truth just about any trail runner who's been out there for several hours--and, in my case, a few days--in the woods or on a mountain will tell you that you eventually begin to feel a wonderful connection with your natural surroundings. It is at this point that you realize that throughout life we put up so many barriers and live in such isolation. We are meant to be outdoors, and yet we've been conditioned to "need" that which really doesn't matter at all.

These are very difficult times in which we live, and there's a reason Dean and Christopher's books--and soon Marshall Ulrich with his new book, Running on Empty, will join the fray--have sold like hotcakes. The reason is that people right now are longing to get out of and step away from what they no longer find fulfilling. The 90s were a decade of fulfillment found in big houses, gas-guzzling SUVs, over-programming our kids to the point that family dinner hour was gone, eating out every night because we could, vacationing to Disney World, fat 401Ks, bonuses, double lattes at Starbucks and many other material pleasures...that don't amount to jack as far as fulfillment (well, maybe Disney and Starbucks do....). These material "things," or items, symbolized success and delivered fulfillment and pleasure not unlike a shot of heroin.

No more. After 9/11 and especially the summer of 2008 when the market crashed, everything changed. People are struggling to pay their mortgage or rent. They are having trouble paying for gas. They can't afford a trip to Disney World and so instead they opt for a camping trip (I'd rather camp than go to Disney, though Disney's nice...). The 401K is half what it was. Forget about a bonus; just be happy to have a job! You get my point. Amid much lesser prosperity for many, the desire to transcend self, to find fulfillment through adventure and step far away from the man-made, material world and into a world of trails, woods, mountains, singing birds, family camping trips, and wildlife has taken hold. People who don't spend much time in nature don't understand that nature SPEAKS to you and connects with your soul. Being in nature is an active experience and entirely a spiritual experience.

And so it's no surprise trail running and ultra running have taken off in recent years. Dean sees this change in how people view the world, and expresses it well in his book. He's not just talking to the believers; he is trying to connect with people who feel despair, are searching for that missing "something," and don't know where to find it. He's trying to show the way--it's to the trails.

Still, I can't help but wonder: When prosperity returns, will we also return to the material world? Or have we truly learned what really matters and have reached a point of no return--a point of awakening, new wisdom and true reflection?

The Charlie Sheen Tragedy and Ultrarunning

When someone is out of control and self-destructing, oftentimes we see three different types of witnesses to the tragedy unfolding. The first kind instigates the out-of-control behavior by serving as an antagonist. The more craziness they see, the more craziness they provoke, and so they in effect aid and abet in the self-destruction. Then there's the person who just stands by and watches, kind of a voyeur if you will. This person is really quite useless no matter how dismayed they may appear. The last kind is the person who tries to step in and rescue the individual who is self-destructing, or at least call for help.

We're seeing this with Charlie Sheen. The (morally bankrupt) media is provoking Charlie Sheen, who is clearly unraveling, is authoring his own self-destruction and desperately needs help. But guess what? The media doesn't care and it's not going to help. It just wants ratings. Then there's Mr. and Mrs. TV Watcher, who are just standing by observing mostly because there's little any of us can do except turn off the tube. Only no one's turning off their TV; we want to see this train-wreck. That leaves the individuals who want to help Charlie Sheen...his family, his friends. But, really, where are they?

We've seen this movie over and over and over again. It plays out not only on TV with celebrities from Charlie Sheen to Brittany Spears to Lindsey Lohan, but also in our personal lives, in our families, in the workplace and elsewhere. Lots of times it's not just the individual who harms themselves; many around them are also hurt. I hurt for Charlie Sheen, but mostly for his family.

Why do I care about what we're seeing with Charlie Sheen? Because I'm raising my son in this world.

Which brings me to the point of this post. This is a cruel world in which we live. Look at what's happening in Wisconsin with all the hate-mongering, or what happened in Tucson a few months ago. Look at what's happening daily in Washington, DC with all the finger-pointing. The murders reported daily. The nasty comments people spew at each other. Aggressive drivers. Racism. Hate speech and crimes. Labels. Etc.

In a world like this, it's easy to see why ultrarunning has such a huge appeal. It's an escape from a sick, sick world that, frankly, could use a trail run as a mental health break.

Ultrarunning removes you from the world, if only temporarily, placing you in an environment so incredibly different than the place we live in day in and day out. When you're in an ultra event, you forget about bills that need to be paid. You don't care about what's on the TV tonight. All of a sudden the ills of the world don't matter. It's just you and nature, you and the finish line, you and the next aid station, you and your crew, you and that happy volunteer. You are in the moment. And what a moment it is. Nothing else matters.

When you've gone 100 or more miles, you begin to see the world differently. Nothing is the same again. And those who haven't gone the distance could never understand this.

So it's not surprising that ultrarunning, and really long-distance running in general, is quite cleansing and reinvigorating.

If only more people got that. Maybe more people are getting it. There is, after all, a reason behind all these race sell-outs. People are escaping from the world.

Maybe Charlie Sheen should join us.

Boston's New Standards are Right On

Major props to the organizers of the Boston Marathon, who today announced new qualifying standards that will surely leave many angry and yet others (me included) jumping for joy. Among the changes:

• A new rolling admission system that puts the fastest runners in every age group at the front of the line. If your qualifying time is 20 minutes or faster than your age group standard, you can register on day one! If it's 10 minutes or faster than the standards, you get to register a few days later.
• All qualifying times for both genders have been reduced by 5 minutes.
• That extra 59 seconds for all times, which have gotten many to Boston in recent years, will be gone for the 2013 race!

You can read the details here. Unfortunately, while the Boston Athletic Association gets major props for its changes, it get a grade of F for its Web server. The BAA's Web site has been so overwhelmed by traffic today that it's crashed. Unbelievable, especially when you consider that its servers also crashed on day one of registration for the 2011 race. The irony is almost hilarious.

In recent years, the Boston Marathon has reached a point where demand has clearly outstripped the available 25,000 spots. The 2011 race sold out in less than a day (see my commentary on that here). The new standards announced today, which begin to go into effect in 2012 and will be in full effect for the 2013 race, are a step in the right direction for the greatest marathon of all. The standards ensure continued excellence and a high-quality field, of which I intend to always be a part.

For me (and that's how many runners are looking at this today--"How does this affect ME?!?!?!?!?!"), the new standards mean that if I can continue running a sub-3-hour marathon (which I've done in the past three road marathons), I should be able to get into Boston. We'll see. If I run below a 2:55 at the Eisenhower Marathon this April, I should be golden for the 2012 race since that'll be 20 minutes faster than my age-group qualifying time of 3:15 (qualifying times for the 2012 race will remain the same; the 5-minute drop goes into effect for the 2013 race, which means my BQ time goes down to 3:10, but then I'll be 40 in 2014, when my BQ goes back to 3:15).

The Larger Issue at Work
When you look at American society, it seems everything has gotten too big. It used to be that the Boston Marathon was almost always accessible to those who qualified. Not that long ago you could enter a month or two before the race! There used to be quite a few "last chance before Boston" races that were run a few months befor the big race, but recently became useless and charmingly anachronistic. The days of registering when you got around to it are over. The days of driving to just about any race on a whim and paying at the table are over, too. This trend has hit ultrarunning in a big way. But, in a larger sense, everything has gotten too big.

• Neighborhoods are now sprawling developments.
• McMansions are everywhere (many foreclosed on). There are now closets the size of small houses.
• Shopping malls are huge, expansive and repulsive magnets for all-day shopping, excessive spending and wasted time.
• There's either a Starbucks or McDonald's on every corner.
• Food portions are out of control (have you ever seen the portions at Cheesecake Factory?).
• Our bodies are now bigger than ever, creating a health and obesity crisis, the likes of which we've never seen. Bigger bodies=smaller lifespans.
• Google and Facebook have gotten so big that they're now the most sought-after collectors of consumer information.
• Corporations are now colossal multi-national enterprises, and, in some cases, "too big to fail."
• The government is so bloated that it can't even move anymore. It's just stuck.

Everything--from the Boston Marathon to the fries you get at McDonald's--is bigger. But here's the news: Bigger is rarely ever better.

So props to the Boston Athletic Association for bucking the "bigger is better" trend and opting instead for quality and excellence.

The take-away from today's announcement: Don't like the new standards and afraid you'll never get back to Boston? Then work harder! Run more miles! Get to the track more for those intervals! That's a hard message for a society so coddled and used to mediocrity.

May the BAA's example serve as a bellwether for others.

The Hardrock 100 and the Worsening Problem of Race Demand Outstripping Available Supply

Today I looked over the roster of entrants for the 2011 Hardrock 100-Mile Endurance Run, along with the list of the 100 wait-list runners. The lottery drawing took place last weekend. My understanding is that those who are on the wait list have good reason to be hopeful. Congratulations to the lucky few!

Those weren't the only Hardrock lists I looked over. I also reviewed the list of the several hundred would-be Hardrock entrants whose tickets weren't pulled in the lottery. Damn, that's a lot of unlucky people who got disappointing news. I didn't count, but it looks like far more people didn't get in than did get in or at least make the wait list.

Running in the Hardrock 100, like the Western States 100, is a personal dream of mine. Hardrock is generally considered the #1 most difficult 100-mile race in North America, unless you want to throw Barkley into the mix. Hardrock brings a combined 68,000 feet of climb and descent--all at an average elevation of 11,000 feet with a high point of 14,048 feet. It takes place in Colorado's spectacular San Juan Mountains, which I haven't yet visited (but will hopefully this summer). I've heard people say it's the ultimate mountain ultra...and inconceivably hard with never-ending killer climbs, quad-busting descents and plenty of thin air. But Hardrock has something else--tradition, community and uniqueness.

Because Hardrock is so difficult, my plan was to work up to it over a period of a few years--first trying to nail Leadville a few times. Unfortunately, based on what I saw with the huge list of Hardrock lottery rejects, it looks like I may be waiting for a long, long time to get a crack at this storied, legendary race. By the way, even if you're elite, you still don't get special treatment with the Hardrock lottery. There are some amazingly talented runners whose name didn't get drawn. In a way, that gives me hope, because then I know my lottery ticket carries the same weight as that of the elites.

This issue brings to light the larger issue of demand outstripping supply in ultrarunning. I got into the sport in 2005, when demand was starting to sore soar (spelling corrected per reader comment). But now demand and supply are so far apart that you have a situation where people may have to wait years before they get into a race, unless they don't get in at all. The odds of getting into Hardrock and Western States are getting worse every year. Lots of big races are selling out in less than a day.

So what to do about this situation? Some options to consider--and please chime in with your own:

• Tighten the qualification standards, especially for Western States. This will reduce the number of entrants and ultimately enhance the quality of the field. You should have to complete a 100-mile race within a certain time or win a qualifier to get into Western States.
• Have multiple wave starts over a period of hours a la the Boston Marathon. For example, let the elite guys and gals start at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, with the non-elites starting in waves an hour or two later. This will allow more people on the course, provided the "authorities" sign off (more on that below). Granted, more people on the course isn't possible for some races, such as those in pristine alpine environments. Wave starts isn't a novel idea; the Boston Marathon does it and they have it down to a science. Technology can make wave starts very feasible.
• For the above to work, you have to bring the forest service and related agencies to the table and get their buy-in on increased capacity. This is a tough proposition on two grounds: 1) The government is rife with backward, status-quo thinking and it's hard to get access to the "right" decision makers. 2) These are the same folks who assume trail runners are going to trash the joint. They need to know that most of us really respect nature and would never do anything to harm the trails or environment (unfortunately, littering was apparently a huge problem at the 2010 Leadville 100, though I didn't see much discarded trash). We are truly stewards of all things green and races actually work to nurture respect for the environment and increase awareness of our wonderful parks system. But for those jackasses who choose to litter, have stiff penalties for intentionally throwing crap on the trails, such as a lifetime ban from the event and a stiff ticket from the park service (I say "intentionally" because sometimes things can accidentally fall out of our pockets during a race). When I won the Mohican 100 in 2009, a few times I stopped--while in the lead--to pick up stuff (wrappers, etc.) I accidentally dropped. We're all bound to do that.
• Add more races. This is already happening and it's probably the #1 tactic right now for trying to meet demand. But this tactic doesn't solve the problem of deserving runners not being able to get into the Western States 100, Hardrock 100 and other big races. On this point, I go back to the idea of wave starts. Also, there's an unintended consequence to adding more races. More races are going to work to water down the competition, which might irk a few. I can see how elites would be opposed to more races. They want to square off against each other on the biggest stages, get into whatever race they so choose, and contend for big prize purses. This exposes another huge issue in ultrarunning--the conflict between the wishes of elites and the wishes of the rest of us. I don't want to see ultrarunning fall victim to what's happened with Ironman triathloning, so I think ultrarunning should side with non-elites in the spirit of the best traditions of the sport. Which means I think more races should be added--but maybe we could have a Super Bowl of races for the elites.

Unlike a few out there, I ABSOLUTELY am 100% against raising registration fees to reduce demand. That is the worst possible idea. Ever. We want ultrarunning to be accessible to people of varying economic means. I can afford increased registration costs, but maybe the next guy or gal, who loves the sport just as much as I do, couldn't. We need to keep the costs of racing down and think of other innovative solutions for bringing demand and supply in better sync with each other.

Until then, my dream of one day running in the Hardrock 100 may just remain that...a dream. An unfilled dream bcause I wasn't lucky enough for my name to be drawn in a lottery.

The Edge

I recently watched Michael Jordan's hall of fame induction speech. It was pretty powerful and hard-hitting, though a bit raw. Jordan is the greatest, most dominant athlete I've ever seen in my life. He could jump like no one else, drive to the inside and dunk over you and, later in his career, pull up from almost anywhere and drain a three. And could he ever play defense. He was the closest thing to the perfect basketball player that you'll ever find.

Jordan's greatness was about his competitiveness, mental toughness and work ethic as much as his God-given physical skills and talent. He was so competitive and tough that when the game was on the line he wanted the ball--and it seemed everytime he sunk the winning basket and broke the hearts of many rooting for the other team. With him on the team, the Chicago Bulls won six consecutive NBA championships during the nineties (they didn't win during his brief retirement). Through it all, Jordan practiced harder than anyone--the first to show up and the last to leave. He also played harder than anyone, nearly throwing away his career over gambling and a misguided and thankfully brief foray into baseball.



As a man of decent but by no means great athletic ability, I don't look much to the immortals like Michael Jordan for inspiration because it's hard for me to relate to them. But I do draw from what made him great--competitive energy and a tireless work ethic. That said, Larry Bird honestly inspires me more than almost any other athlete--the fictional character Rocky notwithstanding. Bird played his heart out and talked some trash in the process. He had the sweetest jump shot there ever was. He played defense like a crazed Rottweiler, chasing you everywhere and trying to tear you to pieces. He never gave up. He was always angling for the upper hand. He ran down the court harder than the other players. Guys probably hated playing against Bird because he worked them harder than anyone (until Jordan came along). He was the ultimate plugger.

I try to run like Bird played basketball. I run with my heart, and I run hard. I'm not nearly as good at running as Bird was at basketball, but Bird had a mental edge that inspires me. I may not be elite fast--I never will be--my VO2 max might not be otherworldly (though I've never had it measured), and I might have only a limited number of fast-twitch fibers, but what I do have is intense focus and the will to work hard and then harder.

It wasn't always that way. When I was kid, I was timid, weak and anything but competitive. When I ran cross-country, I didn't run hard. I just ran without really caring much about where I finished, how fast I went and who I beat.

Things changed when I left cross-country behind and went out for the varsity football team, wanting to be like my big brother who was an excellent football player. There was this senior on our team who was a bully and really piled on the younger players like me. He took cheap shots at us and was really just a bad guy. He ridiculed a lot of the young players--including me--and no one stood up to him. Not even the seniors. This only empowered him to be more aggressive.

One day in practice I was at linebacker and he was on the offensive line. I was still learning so much about the game and the contact aspect intimidated me. Oklahoma drills had been nearly terrifying for me. He'd been doing his usual that day--hammering on the young guys like me and taunting us as well. I took it without really fighting back--as I'd always done. Finally, after he put a few nasty licks on me, I just got pissed off--not sure what exactly sent me over the edge--and went after him on the next play. I didn't knock him on his ass, but I sure hit him hard enough to send the message that I wasn't his victim. I wasn't anyone else's victim, either. I went hard from that day forward.

Things began to change after that day. I'm not sure why. Sometimes it's hard--I think--for those who knew me then as a weak, timid kid to recognize who I am today. I go hard, push myself and am always looking to go to the next level in exploring the limits of my endurance. I want to win and eventually go to the outer rim of what I can do. Sometimes this drive is misguided and hard to understand.

I wonder how many people out there have something deep within them that has never found its way into their being. How many people have gone through life without that trigger event that brought out their best and made them go for it all? It is for this reason that I want to continue focusing on ways I can help inspire people to run, achieve their goals and take on new challenges. Just as that bully found out that day, sometimes a raging fire can emerge from a weak flame in the blink of an eye.

How to fix "health care" / Taper week 6/8-6/14

I recently read a column about the skyrocketing costs of health care and how we need policy changes now or else the system is going to cripple America and bankrupt our government.

When are geeky policy wonks going to get it? And when are we as a nation going to get it?

Fixing health care costs isn't about policy. It's not about anyone in Washington or state capitals across the country. It's not about the president or your congressional representatives, either. It's not about higher taxes or nationalized health care. And it sure as heck isn't about tax credits, etc. It's about people's behaviors!

Health care costs are skyrocketing ultimately because of rising "consumer" demand. Rising demand has two dangerous implications: 1) Eventually your health insurance won't be enough and you're going to have to pay more, and 2) there will be more and more people without health insurance. Both of these will only add fuel to the very misguided nationalized health care movement that treats the symptom, not the root cause.

Fortunately, we can avert both if first we just acknowledge the root of the health care problem. And here it is: The rising demand for health care is being driven by a gluttonous, out-of-shape nation (just as high oil prices are driven by greed). It's said that heart disease is the #1 killer in the U.S. It's not. Cancer isn't, either. The #1 killer in America is obesity. If you're obese, you are at much higher risk of heart disease, cancer, diabetes, high blood pressure, kidney disease, joint failure, digestive disorders, sleep apnea and a whole host of other problems. If you're obese and a smoker, your risk factors are even greater. If you carry most of your fat in your midsection, you are wreaking havoc on your organs. Beyond killing you, obesity creates a huge demand for health care, and demand leads to higher prices that few of us can afford to pay.

But don't take my word for it. Even our (incompetent) government recognizes the cataclysmic consequences of obesity.

And here's more news. Demand isn't just coming from fat adults. There are more obese kids today than ever before. It's unmistakable. Kids with type-2 diabetes and early signs of heart disease...unbelievable!

If America wants to "get control" of health care, the solution isn't policy-related and it has nothing to do with the use of taxpayer money. The solution is for people to reduce their reliance on health care by dedicating themselves to healthy eating and exercise, which are the best wellness and preventative measures you can take. The model then must change from a system of sick-care to a system of well-care.

As a first step in regaining health and wellness and reducing their risk factors, people can start avoiding refined sugars, red meat, pork products, all fast food, processed foods, fried and fatty foods, excessive alcohol consumption and smoking. They can emphasize whole grains, fresh fruits and vegetables, and fish and chicken, while keeping their feet moving and their TVs and video games turned off!

It's a well-known fact that nations that adopt the Standard American Diet (SAD, an appropriate acronym), which is awful, see huge spikes in the rate of heart disease and cancer. But there's also the Standard American Lifestyle (SAL, as in pig)--6 hours of TV a day, video games, Blackberry obsession, inadequate sleep, no exercise and perpetual stress. If we change our behaviors and adopt a healthier lifestyle that gets us outdoors where we'll enjoy exercise, we'll see less and less of our doctor and rely on fewer and few prescriptions. Then, only then, will health care costs go down and will people discover a better life.

I know. I made the change almost 7 years ago, when I was a size 38 and on the road to cigarette adiction (thanks to political campaign life). That was 51 pounds and about 16,000 miles ago.

***

My first full week of tapering for the Mohican Trail 100-Mile Run is now behind me. For the week, I ran 54 uneventful miles, including 11 miles on Saturday--with my new Salomon Speedcross 2s, which I love--and 11.5 miles on Sunday with the Cleveland Southeast Running Club. I feel pretty good except for some lingering tightness in my hamstrings.

For the coming week, the plan is to do very little--certainly nothing over 30 or 35 minutes. The plan for Thursday and Friday is zero, when I'll be be getting my drop bags in order. Then on Saturday the big event comes--100 miles through Mohican State Park.

My goals for Mohican are:

1) Finish
2) Set a new PR (current PR of 19:22)
3) Every man for himself (i.e., contend)

I have too much respect for 100s for my #1 goal not to be to finish.

***

Looking at my training, I think I've done what I needed to do to be ready for Mohican. I ran pretty good mileage and I think the hill repeats will pay off. I may have raced a little too much this spring, with two 50Ks and a marathon in a three-month period. All I can do is my best. There will be plenty of good runners on the course this weekend and hopefully I'll be finishing with a time I can be proud of.

Onward and upward!

The desire to run long

It occurred to me during this morning's run that lately all I do is give blow-by-blows of my training. On this day and at this time, I ran this many miles, etc. Somehow, I've fallen out of writing about running as a life experience and passion, and why it holds so much meaning. As a writer and passionate runner, I should aspire to do far more than just write blow-by-blows on this blog; I should use my writing and love of running to inspire others to participate in a sport that has been so good to me.

I've met enough people in life to know that there are those who run because it's who they are and those who would prefer a root canal to so much as a 10-minute jog. Those who run are greatly outnumbered by those who don't. And of the relatively small number who run, you have many different types, of which the most common are the 10-minute-per-mile recreational jogger, the 5K and 10K racer, the charity runner, the 30-mile-per-week runner who does it for fitness, and the one-and-done marathoner--each of whom partakes in their own worthy pursuit.

A very small number of runners go for specific time goals and/or compete--locally, regionally or even nationally and internationally. Only a small percentage of runners fit into this category. And there's another small percentage who just like to run really, really far, whether it's on roads, trails, mountains, etc. This latter group gravitates toward ultramarathons, which certainly aren't for every runner.

I think of myself as a runner who likes to go really, really far--meaning I'm first and foremost an ultrarunner (who every spring and fall tries to run what I consider for myself to be a fast marathon, though this spring I may forgo a fast marathon). The more I think about myself as a runner, the more I realize that the desire to go out really far has always been with me.

As a kid, I'd get on my bike and ride for hours all over town and beyond, seeing new places. The adventure of a long bike ride and the exploration it brought were intoxicating and reason enough to look forward to my summer vacations (which back then were three months vs. today's shortened summer vacations). I loved hiking for hours through the wooded areas surrounding our neighborhood. Around the age of 15 or 16, I finally ran the 5 miles around the lake where my grandmother lived and loved every second of it (though it kicked my butt). I remember being on the treadmill at the gym 6 or 7 years ago and getting up to 7 miles and being so proud of how far I'd gone. I remember bonking on my first 16-miler in the spring of 2004 and feeling such exhilaration in knowing I'd stretched my limits at the time. I will never forget crossing the finish line of my first marathon in the fall of 2004, or running the last 20 miles of my first 100-miler in the summer of 2007. Today, running in a 100-mile race at least once a year is one of life's greatest highlights. Maybe this fall I'll explore some more by trying the North Coast 24-Hour Run here in Cleveland (assuming I survive the Mohican 100 :) ). And then maybe I'll finally go on a multi-day journey run.

The desire to go long in my running--and in life--has always been with me. I'm sure it's always been with you, too. It's like this intense fire that keeps burning and only gets stronger. The farther you go, the farther you want to keep going. Only when you can see a great distance behind you and a great distance before you do you realize that life is just one big long run. And you keep going.

On winning honorably

Did you hear the story about the Dallas, Texas high school girls basketball that beat another team 100-0? Just today the school, a Christian school no less, announced that the coach had been fired on the heels of his refusal to apologize for allowing such a drubbing.

I say bravo to the school, Covenant School, and hasta la vista to the coach.

But I also say that the other school, Dallas Academy, which hasn't won a game in 4 years, should consider disbanding its basketball team if it's going to be this embarrassingly terrible.

As you may have previously read on her ("Trophies for everyone!"), I've gone on record saying that kids shouldn't be coddled and should be taught the importance of winning, so long as they win honorably. The case of this school mercilessly beating the other school 100-0 involves no honor--only shame.

Apparently Covenant School was up 59-0 at the half and was still shooting 3-pointers and playing full-court press in the 4th quarter. There is no honor or decency in such tactics.

When you're beating an opponent so badly that there is no way they can come back, there has to come a time when you call off the dogs, just as all the great basketball coaches do--Mike Krzyzewski at Duke, Roy Williams at UNC, Billy Donovan at Florida, Rick Pitino at Louisville, Jim Calhoun at UConn et al. In football when you're blowing out the other team, you run the ball up the middle (never pass) and you take a knee when the clock winds down to 2 minutes.

I remember a football game my senior year in high school when we absolutely destroyed our opponent to the tune of 52-0. Our star running back had 231 yards on 10 carries and at least 4 or 5 touchdowns midway through the the second quarter. We could have at least put 80 points on the board, but instead of running up the score our coach pulled the starters before half-time and started playing the second-stringers and young kids. By the third quarter we had our freshmen and sophomores in the game working on their fundamentals. We won honorably.

This coach from Texas? He allowed his players to win dishonorably and in the process he abused the authority and trust placed in him not only to coach these girls, but also to show them the right way. He allowed his players to take the wrong path and cast a terribly bad light over their school. And now he's out of a job.

So what should he have done if the other team was so helpless? Short of asking the other coach for a forfeit or seeking intervention from the referees, he could have instructed his players to hold on to the ball for as long as possible, or pass the ball 10 times before shooting ... basically anything but allow his players to shoot 3s and play full-court press late in the game.

In a street fight, this coach's actions would amount to repeatedly kicking a man in the face after he's already unconscious and close to death. But, no matter how close to dying the victim is, let's keep kicking because we can! Boy, that's a great lesson for young, impressionable kids like these girls at Covenant School.

This coach's firing? Some say it's a sign of the times--punishing someone for success in a society that punishes winning. I call his firing justice. And I hope he learns from his mistake and finds work because, if he has a family, they are suffering from his stupidity and don't deserve it. And if he ever coaches again, he'd better hope he doesn't find himself on the wrong end of a blowout. If that happened, I'd hope the other coach would do the honorable thing. I think that's called the Golden Rule and I'm pretty sure it's a fundamental part of the Christian life.

What does running do for you?

"To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special.” - Jim Valvano, 1993

Lately I've been in a reflective state--thinking heavily about my life, what's important, where I came from, where I am and where I'm going. As a still-relatively new dad, I realize that life is no longer about just me or us (Anne and me). It has a much larger meaning. I'm thinking about that larger meaning.

For a time after Noah was born I wondered if high-mileage running would be feasible anymore given the many responsibilities of being a father and husband. Beyond a strong commitment of heart and soul, I now have a big commitment of time. I wondered if the time would be there to run as I'd run in the past few years.

But then I realized that running is far more than a commitment of time, and it's no selfish pursuit, either. It's about far more than lacing up the shoes and putting one foot in front of the other in pursuit of my own goals. Running helps make me who I am--and who I am is who my family needs me to be.

Running brings peace amid the occasional chaos of life. When I'm out the door, problems disappear, if only for an hour or so, and I return home with a new sense of calm and better perspective.

Running provides quiet times of reflection. Life often gets so busy that simple reflection takes a conscious effort. When I run, I have time to reflect. The other day on a run I thought about my dad and how his example has been a "how-to" guide for me as a dad.

Running provides friendship. Most of my closest friends today are fellow runners who I see every Saturday and/or Sunday. But it's more than that. Like any runner, I can go to any race and even if I don't know anyone there I'm still surrounded by friends. We runners enjoy a unique bond.

Running has allowed me to figure out what I'm made of. Whether at mile 20 of a marathon or mile 80 of a 100-miler, I always learn at these critical junctures in a race what I'm made of. One's character often comes out in times of great stress and suffering. And I've come to realize that, amid my flaws, I have strong character and the courage to endure.

Running gives me the perspective I need to make big decisions. With no distractions and only the sounds of nature and my moving feet, many of the biggest decisions I've ever made in life have happened on my runs along the country roads and trails of Chagrin Falls. Sometimes I come back home, sit down and tell Anne, "I thought about X and here's what I think we should do...."

Running consumes my excess energy. I am full of energy--maybe too much. As a kid, I bounced off the walls. My early-morning run takes off the edge, making me just tired enough to sit at my desk at work and focus on what's in front of me without a flood of distractions flowing through my brain.

Running allows me to plan my day. If I have a busy day at work, I often plan my day on a run--laying out the priorities and figuring out ways to accomplish or make progress toward each.

Running brings emotion. My emotions often come out in private. I remember last April being on a country road near home at about 6:00 a.m. and coming upon a big field. I looked to the east to find a magnificent sunset. At the time, Noah was only a few weeks from arrival and we'd just learned he was breech. I was dealing with a lot of emotion as I worried about Anne and Noah, thought about fatherhood and, oh by the way, trained for an approaching marathon and 100-miler. When I saw that rising sun I thought about Noah and, man, the emotions flowed.

Running brings out my competitiveness. I know some good runners who log respectable times but lack the competitive spirit. Running allows me to tap my competitive spirit. Too many adults have no outlet for their competitive spirit and so they channel it in sometimes unhealthy ways--stepping on others at work, etc. Running gives me an outlet for my competitive spirit because I know each and every outing is designed to get me toward a goal that centers around competing or accomplishing something ambitious. And then come race time, I go Dr. Jeckyl-Mr. Hyde--the very competitive me comes out.

So I run knowing running makes me a better person for those in my life. Those of us who have such a pursuit--be it painting, cooking, building model airplanes, etc.--I guess we're the lucky ones. What does running do for you?

I'll end on this note: