tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-231540232024-03-17T00:49:24.317-04:00Adventures in OnionismThis is my blog about my adventures in long-distance backpacking and ultra-marathon running, full of sarcasm. <a href="http://www.ocf.berkeley.edu/~garret">This other site is my economics research site</a>.The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.comBlogger1351125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-62984302134836317682024-02-22T01:07:00.000-05:002024-02-22T01:07:09.372-05:00OK, Let's Go!<p>To answer my own question from last time, I signed for UTMB. And UTMR. Yes, they're only six days apart. It'll be fun.</p><p>Right now I'm more anxious about Orcas 100, which I'm running this weekend. Should I bring my newer small pack or my larger worn out old pack? </p><p>Why haven't I bought a replacement larger pack yet? Because nobody makes anything to carry hard-sided bottles anymore and I like hard-sided bottles because they're larger and insulated.</p><p>Why do I get nervous before races lately, despite having run more than 100 ultras? I don't know.</p><p>Orcas, Paiute Meadows 50K, Scout Mountain, TRT, UTMB, UTMR</p><p>I've been training quite consistently, if not especially hard. I've run 475 miles so far this year, a minimum of two every day, and more than 60 every week, except for last week when I was tapering and ran 45 or so. I've had almost no alcohol this month, and I've been fairly good (but not great) about mixing in hamstring exercises. My hamstring felt fine for a while, but a moderately fast road run set it off again. My longest training run was 40 miles with 16,000 feet of vertical on Groundhog Day weekend as part of Loopfest. (I'd intended to go to the Bay Area and join my friends, but weather prevented driving over the pass.)</p><p>In sum, I'm feeling pretty good about the race. I'm not intending to break any land speed records, nor PR's but I'm happy to feel like I have a good base this early in the year, and I'd like to see how long I can keep building. Maybe at some point I'll actually put together a training schedule and try and run fast. <br /></p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWnIzsOjFYYQ3UliQJqAZWkKIatNBz2S2XFfAkC_9oR9o-EqE7M3WU3MJqrkjMiuLuhmNCFDxHiWZkGM4tJMDIeb6dHC3_NcmPG3C_icbTx7SOjJWeMxgLBPXOFnz2tIRJePAsii2GnSOp5NOoRsluF0aHzeVh7Csn1feMJxDT73bqOeBK0rR-_w/s4032/PXL_20240203_195315123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWnIzsOjFYYQ3UliQJqAZWkKIatNBz2S2XFfAkC_9oR9o-EqE7M3WU3MJqrkjMiuLuhmNCFDxHiWZkGM4tJMDIeb6dHC3_NcmPG3C_icbTx7SOjJWeMxgLBPXOFnz2tIRJePAsii2GnSOp5NOoRsluF0aHzeVh7Csn1feMJxDT73bqOeBK0rR-_w/w640-h480/PXL_20240203_195315123.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p> <br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-32858006104689912872024-01-23T19:25:00.005-05:002024-01-24T11:43:51.757-05:00Should I run UTMB?<p>That's it, the title is the post.</p><p>No, of course that's not the post, but I am wondering. My schedule has filled in a bit for the year. I'm now signed up for: Orcas 100 (Feb), Paiute Meadows 50K (May), Scout Mountain 100 (June), TRT 100 (July), and hope to run the fun runs Lupine Loopfest (Feb), Desolate Peaks (August), and Euchre Bar Massacre (October). But the big news is that I got selected in the UTMB lottery. I have until the 29th of January to confirm my registration.</p><p>For the non-runners: UTMB is a 106-mile loop around Mont Blanc through France, Switzerland, and Italy, starting and ending in Chamonix. By all accounts it is spectacularly beautiful and very difficult, with about 33,000 feet of climbing. For most of my running life I haven't really cared about European races or followed European runners, but I got swept up in the spectacle of it last year. It was the race's 20th year, an American man finally won (Jim), and also finished second (Zack), and Courtney completed the never-to-be-repeated triple of winning Western States, Hardrock, and UTMB, two in record time. The race is now one of the sport's two major world championships.<br /></p><p>So why would I consider not running it? Because UTMB is not just a race, but it also a company. In 2021, <a href="https://www.outsideonline.com/running/training/trail/utmb-is-teaming-up-with-ironman-will-it-be-the-ultra-starbuckization/" target="_blank">UTMB™ partnered with Ironman™</a>, who has been <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/triathlon/comments/w9prk2/whats_wrong_with_the_ironman_organization/" target="_blank">accused of crummy business practices</a> for years in the triathlon world. UTMB™ changed the method of entry into UTMB--you now can only gain access to the lottery by running a UTMB™-branded race, which are spread throughout the world. For the most part they are fine--a mix of new races and old races that are bought by UTMB™. In the latter group are races like Speedgoat, Canyons, and Kodiak: well-established races that seem like they weathered the pandemic reasonably well, but perhaps weren't on elites' must-run races, nor did they sell out instantaneously or have selective lotteries. I have no inside information, but from what I've heard publicly or second-hand, the race directors who have sold to UTMB™ seem reasonably happy. (In at least one case they signed an agreement to co-organize the event for a few years, after which UTMB™ would fully take over.) </p><p>The major issue, however, is with UTMB™ muscling races out when people don't want to sell, which is allegedly what happened in Whistler, BC. Gary Robbins is a beloved former elite runner, <a href="https://youtu.be/NDZdsqbcGTU?si=WQV8OI0rFJMTCPlD&t=3957" target="_blank">Barkley near-finisher</a>, coach, and race director who apparently waits at the finish line offering hugs to every finisher. I met him in 2018 at Barkley and all the rumors are true--he's a really nice guy. He organized the Whistler Alpine Meadows race for six years, then <a href="https://www.piquenewsmagazine.com/local-news/whistler-alpine-meadows-trail-race-ultramarathon-permanently-cancelled-6526867" target="_blank">announced in February 2023</a> that the 2023 edition was cancelled. Then in October 2023, UTMB™ announced a new Whistler race for 2024, after which Gary posted a blog "<a href="http://garyrobbinsrun.com/blog/2023/10/what-really-went-down-in-whistler" target="_blank">What Really Went Down in Whistler with the WAM Races</a>" essentially stating that Whistler (owned by Vail Resorts) deliberately put impossible-to-meet conditions on his race, hoping to push him out so they could partner with a bigger company, which they successfully did. Vail claims there were safety concerns about Gary's race, Gary says Vail staff stopped communicating with him and UTMB™ used his company's information about the Whistler race, and UTMB™ hasn't commented, as far as I'm aware.(Irunfar.com summarized the whole thing <a href="https://www.irunfar.com/whistler-alpine-meadows-ultra-trail-whistler-by-utmb-trail-race-conflict" target="_blank">here</a>.)<br /></p><p>I think it's the near-unanimous opinion that UTMB™'s behavior at Whistler sucks. I for sure will never run UTMB™'s Whistler race. But is it bad enough that I shouldn't run the original UTMB? <a href="Elites are considering boycotting UTMB." target="_blank">Elites are considering boycotting UTMB</a>. UTMB™ also <a href="https://runningmagazine.ca/trail-running/utmb-fires-livestream-commentator/?fbclid=IwAR1FFa_rzzy7M6njvWVM2C0BIY8gZtoXILQftaT8wG210xyZfNZevQTfU88_aem_AccDaA0EcBsUnPPU0oUNEOaAUB3saIn8mDVFmxPU2EcGvrOd_4FX8N2Q5lGWNZC2-iY" target="_blank">fired Corinne Malcolm</a> from their announcing team after she was vocal about their shortcomings. <br /></p><p>I felt really anxious about it the other day, but I've also been experiencing anxiety generally lately (working remotely is somewhat lonely but the head of my agency is being a complete turd about return to office creating a lot of uncertainty, my house in Yucca Valley is nice but the list of things I'd like to fix is infinite but time and reliable contractors are scarce, etc.) so it's unclear if it's just me.</p><p>Races require a ton of volunteer effort. I feel good about that when the race director is making money, but less good when it's a corporation making profit. I'm generally fine with capitalism and corporations making profit (I just think we should regulate the bejeezus out of it) but it's weird that anyone would be making <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advance_Publications" target="_blank">$2.4 billion conglomerate</a>-level returns from something that runs on volunteer labor. Perhaps corporate races could pay their volunteers, but that would probably sap the comradery from it. UTMB™-branded races also cost more than most other comparable races. </p><p>On the positive (I think) side, UTMB™ has done a lot to increase the profile of ultra trail running. Many races now have live tracking, and some are live streamed. These eyeballs bring advertiser money, which means elites can actually make a living running, which makes races more competitive, which is interesting to me as a fan of the sport. Of course, UTMB's title sponsor in 2023 was Dacia, a Romanian car company owned by Renault. That's a little lame, because global warming is real, but also a lot of people had to drive or fly to get to the race. </p><p>Corporate races can be poorly organized, but so can mom and pops. When Leadville was sold to Life Time Fitness, they let in way more runners/crew vehicles than the roads could handle and the race was a shit show for anyone in the middle of the pack. I've heard that Vacation Races' handling of Matt Gunn's (RIP) races wasn't great. But I can also think of plenty of mom and pop races that sucked (the first edition of Badger Mountain, or decades-old drama in the Bay Area trail running scene, or allegations of sexual harassment against one RD) so races can be bad regardless of the size of ownership. I'd say non-profit running clubs like VHTRC and Silver State Striders do have a notable advantage, in that the races are for sure well-organized with amazing volunteers, but that's not a scalable solution--there just aren't enough strong clubs (and even if the volunteers are amazing, you may not always be in the mood for those rocky east coast trails).</p><p>There's also the issue of getting into the race, for elites and for normies. For normies, many hard 100-milers require that you complete an easier 100-miler, or maybe 50-miler or 100K before registering so that you know what you're getting into. Western States has a specific list of 100-milers and 100Ks that seems to be based mostly on size of field and longevity of the race, which seems like a good enough, if perhaps blunt instrument way of weeding out phony results. Hardrock has a list of ~32 qualifiers selected for difficulty and to ensure at least some geographic balance. UTMB is the only race where the ~40 qualifiers are all owned by UTMB™, with one single exception: Western States, which is how I got in. I got 4 "running stones" by completing 2023 Western States, and was selected in the lottery. </p><p>For elites, Western States bestows "Golden Ticket" status on some 100-milers and 100Ks (5 of 7 of which for 2024 are owned by UTMB™!) where podium finishers get in. UTMB has a similar thing for finishing podium or top-10 at other UTMB™ races. Hardrock has no way to compete-in at other races for elites, which I think leads to it not being a super deep field at the front. </p><p>So that's it. I don't want to pay UTMB™-level prices for every 100 I run. Sometimes I'm initially a little annoyed by volunteering requirements that run of the mill 100s institute, but mostly that's when they're too specific about what sort of volunteering counts, and I get over myself eventually, and obviously that's what it takes to be on the receiving end of all the help myself. I don't want UTMB™ to run every event. But I do occasionally want to run an event with a large field, where a deep field of elites come out, and non-runners at work watch the YouTube stream over the weekend and say "Wow, you ran that?!" UTMB™ seems like they're part of that.<br /></p><p>So, should I run UTMB? I need to get a Hardrock qualifier in order to continue to apply for Hardrock. I could do that with Hardrock itself (I'm 13th on the waitlist and don't expect to get in), or with Wyoming Range 100 (Oh $#!+. <a href="https://www.everlongendurance.com/" target="_blank">His permit is in question because of wolverine listing as an endangered species</a>) or with UTMB, or with Ultra Tour Monte Rosa (UTMR), though it's a week later and perhaps not as good of timing work-wise. (So really it seems like UTMR is the only viable alternative.) But really I feel like I should just run UTMB, get it out of my system, and try and avoid running any UTMB™-branded races again. I got in without supporting any of their branded races, and if I don't register this year, I lose half my points in their lottery. So if I want to run it and give them the least money possible, I think this is my chance.</p><p>I guess I'm fine with that. It's how I feel about most problems in society, like global warming. You should do what you can to lower your carbon footprint, but ultimately we're only going to solve it through regulation, because we're not all going to stop flying, driving, using concrete, and heating or cooling our housing until those things are priced or taxed appropriately, or until technological innovation gets sufficient funding due in no small part to regulation and pricing. Oh, and also, as far as I am aware carbon offsets are largely bogus. (Did you forget I am an economist?) Or maybe that analogy is invalid because there's no government regulations in question here, it's just a question of if I give my money to UTMB™ or to Lizzy Hawker (the UTMR RD who won UTMB five times)?</p><p>I'll "pre-register" (I'm not quite sure what that means) for UTMR tonight, but first I have to go running.<br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-41127763189393066942024-01-02T02:09:00.002-05:002024-01-05T16:54:02.537-05:002023 in Review, 2024 Preview<p><b>2023 Races:</b></p><p>I ran five ultras this year. That doesn't seem like all that many to me. Looking back at my Ultrasignup results, I've run a low of four (2014) and a high of eleven (2015) ultras since I got into the sport. (Aside from 2020 when everything was cancelled.) </p><p>Black Canyon 100K, 60K Double <br /></p><p>Silver State 50K <br /></p><p>Western States 100 <br /></p><p>Crazy Mountain 100 <br /></p><p>Chicago Marathon <br /></p><p>Hidden Valley Hammer 10K</p><p>I was pretty happy with the Black Canyon double in February. It meant my body was finally back to normal after Tor in 2022. (I'm not happy that there was absolutely no recognition by the race org of the double, despite promises to the contrary, so I'll just keep howling into the void about that--add it to my "Just serve soy sauce flavored ramen. It's vegetarian and tastes just as salty!" evergreen ultra complaint.)</p><p>I was happy with Silver State 50K until the day after when my hamstring threw a fit. I think I can no longer run a race the day after a nine-hour drive.<br /></p><p>I wasn't that happy with States, but I finished. I hope I don't have to wait another ten years for a third shot at going sub-24.</p><p>Crazy Mountain was fun. </p><p>Chicago was fun for the first half.</p><p>Hidden Valley Hammer was fun. I don't know what did it since I felt fine at Hidden Valley, as if I fully recovered from Chicago, but my hamstring isn't that happy with me right now.<br /></p><p><b>Numbers: </b></p><p>I ran 2,260 miles in 2023. I also walked or hiked 280 miles and biked 550, which is a combined high, at least in the decade-plus that I've had a GPS watch. I also spent 660 hours exercising, which is an all time high. Except that I've started tracking my walking, hiking, bike commutes, and gym workouts more as GPS watch tech has improved, so I'm not sure how good the comparison is. Regardless, I'm glad I met my running miles goal, and 3,100+ total miles ain't too bad. It's not my highest ever, but I'm far more concerned about my hamstring injury, which has been bothering me again off and on, than I am an arbitrary numerical goal. </p><p>I got 280,000' of vertical this year, slightly less than in most recent years. That's pretty surprising, since I thought I trained on pretty steep terrain in Reno. Sometimes I miss Berkeley trails where it was just absurdly easy to get steep vert. <br /></p><p><b>Adventure:</b></p><p>I started doing a little bit of backcountry x-country skiing. I didn't camp out very much, possibly only three times, two of which were backpacking. I completed my project of doing <a href="https://garrettheonion.blogspot.com/2024/01/complete-hiking-joshua-tree-national.html" target="_blank">every mile of maintained trail in Joshua Tree National Park</a>.</p><p>I'd like to do more of all these things in 2024. I am planning a two-week trip in the Brooks Range in Alaska in the second half of June. I'm hoping to do a week or 10-day long trip in late March or April in Death Valley or possibly the Grand Canyon, or basically somewhere that's off trail and not covered in snow at that time of year. A couple more adventure run ideas I am tossing around are a <a href="https://fastestknowntime.com/route/santa-rosa-traverse-ca" target="_blank">Santa Rosa Mountains traverse</a>, <a href="https://fastestknowntime.com/route/white-mountains-range-traverse-ca-nv" target="_blank">White Mountains Traverse</a>, or maybe seeing if the dogs are up for a High Sierra crossing from Crowley Lake to Lake Edison, or something in that region south of Yosemite and north of SEKI where they're allowed.<br /></p><p><b>2024 Races:</b></p><p>As far as races go, here's what I'm thinking. I'll be living out west in Reno/Yucca Valley at least until July, so that's where I'm trying to base the races.<br /></p><p>
February 23: Orcas Island 100 (Already signed up. This is a loop course and it's not a States qualifier or anything, I just thought it sounded like pretty views and a good vibe.) </p><p>April 6: American River 50 (Probably not, doesn't seem like my kind of course.) </p><p>May 11: Paiute Meadows 50K (Definitely. I'll be jonesing for a race by this point, and I need to volunteer at Silver State 50/50, so I can't run it. And Bishop is always the same weekend, and Wild Wild West switched to October for 2024.) </p><p>July 12: Hardrock 100 (I'm on the waitlist, and I think it's unlikely to move that far.) </p><p>July 20: TRT 100 (I got a free spot in this race by volunteering at it last year. Somebody remind me to do volunteer trailwork before July 3.) </p><p>August 9-11: Wyoming Range (Assuming I don't get into Hardrock, I'm going to need a Hardrock qualifier. This seems nuts enough.) </p><p>August 17: Desolate Peaks (M is resurrecting this not-a-race. Timing might be tough if I have to go back to work in DC full-time, but I might be able to swing it.) </p><p>August 30: UTMB Mont Blanc (I'm in the lottery with 4 stones from Western States. I don't think I'll get in, but I'll gladly do it if I can. It's a HR qualifier (for now), so I might not do it and Wyoming, but we'll see.)</p><p>October: Euchre Bar Massacre <br /></p><p>That doesn't sound like that many races, but hopefully I can find a few more to add to the list, or at least other challenging things to do in the mountains. <br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-85654546715208717662024-01-01T16:26:00.001-05:002024-01-01T16:26:14.677-05:00Complete-Hiking Joshua Tree National Park<p>I recently finished hiking or running every maintained mile of trail in Joshua Tree National Park. </p><p>I started this project in spring 2021 when we bought a house two
miles from Black Rock campground. I'd thought of trying to do something
along these lines back in my thru-hiking days. Simple Google searches
indicate Yosemite has "<a href="https://www.nps.gov/yose/planyourvisit/trails.htm" target="_blank">more than 750 miles of trail</a>," Yellowstone "<a href="https://www.nps.gov/yell/planyourvisit/hiking.htm" target="_blank">more than 900</a>."
Someday I thought I'd spend a summer entirely in one of those parks,
Memorial Day to Labor Day, hiking every mile of trail. Bear canisters
and permits seem like an issue, but a surmountable obstacle. Memorial
Day is early, but not too much worse than my 2004 PCT thru-hike when I
left Kennedy Meadows Memorial Day weekend. Perhaps it would be much
worse in Yellowstone, but it would be nice to get some time in the parks
in early June before mosquito season really ramps up in July. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOtHmUcbb7xtvaoRQ98JgEVOGhtyroLNjERdHw1cr-uYBhe8j0osgUXt8M1gkBc0OEIYVQuKhwZoq4dED-oPQYI7LZQfXMlm0mo9F1v15brMb67_T54Grcl6dzdAeIOD3lGJ2Ea2TjVeGPhyphenhypheno0j8Dwnywj5hI5fnYy9PGeG4edjTBSi7NmuUm-w/s4608/IMG_20210422_182034016.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOtHmUcbb7xtvaoRQ98JgEVOGhtyroLNjERdHw1cr-uYBhe8j0osgUXt8M1gkBc0OEIYVQuKhwZoq4dED-oPQYI7LZQfXMlm0mo9F1v15brMb67_T54Grcl6dzdAeIOD3lGJ2Ea2TjVeGPhyphenhypheno0j8Dwnywj5hI5fnYy9PGeG4edjTBSi7NmuUm-w/s320/IMG_20210422_182034016.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cool</td></tr></tbody></table><p> <br /></p><p>Of
course I have a real job now so I can't spend the entire summer hiking
anymore, and dogs aren't allowed on trails in nearly all National Parks
(Shenandoah being a notable exception), so I figured I'd section hike,
or "complete-hike" Joshua Tree. </p><p>The park <a href="https://www.nps.gov/jotr/planyourvisit/things2do.htm" target="_blank">claims</a> on its website to have 300 miles of trail, but <a href="https://www.nps.gov/jotr/planyourvisit/hiking.htm" target="_blank">only lists </a>79 miles' worth. There are about 190 miles of maintained trail according to my copy of the National Geographic Trails Illustrated map, which is my main source of determining what counts as a maintained trail. My main definition is that it's on the map, and depicted as a maintained trail. There are a handful of unmaintained trails/old roads that I'll probably eventually hike too, but not yet. There are also a few short (<0.5 miles) nature trails that I haven't done, and don't really consider worth doing. So I've done every maintained trail longer than half a mile long. There are also some unmaintained routes that are some times old abandoned roads: Pushawalla Canyon, Berdoo Thermal Canyon, Fried Liver Wash, and Big Wash.</p><p>If I were doing this in Death Valley or Mojave Preserve, I would obviously be using Michel Digonnet's excellent guidebooks. However, the best guidebook to Joshua Tree is ---holy shit! I just looked on Amazon and Digonnet has a <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Hiking-Joshua-Tree-National-Park/dp/096591786X/ref=sr_1_4?qid=1704140576&refinements=p_27%3AMichel+Digonnet&s=books&sr=1-4&text=Michel+Digonnet" target="_blank">Joshua Tree guidebook coming out in May</a>! At 480 pages, it looks to be full of amazing detail like his others. Until May, the best guidebook is Patty Furbush's <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Foot-Joshua-Tree-National-Park/dp/0971357137/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3BE85S8AFDFWC&keywords=on+foot+in+joshua+tree&qid=1704141099&sprefix=%2Caps%2C294&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><i>On Foot in Joshua Tree National Park</i></a>, which is decent but only 180 pages. <br /></p><p>How many miles did it take? A more relevant answer is that it took me about two years of living near the park. I'm no graph theory mathematician, but I'd guess I did at least twice the mileage due to out and back or repetition of individual segments. There are two or three areas with a decent amount of loops and crossing trails (Black Rock campground, the Maze/Window Loop, and Quail Springs), and one trail across northern portion of the park (California Riding and Hiking Trail, 37 miles). </p><p>The CRHT is the longest run I ever did in the park. Other days I'd do about 20 miles, sometimes with Amy dropping me off in the park, and I'd get a few miles of new trail, then run to Black Rock via the Bigfoot Trail, then home. Other days I'd do short loops in the park after work. I used Strava's heatmap functionality to track where I had and hadn't been. Basically, if anyone has done it on Strava, I've done it (or it's a road).</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-6m4akvQ3fC4d1FwPGXwQ4nP-hBVj3JaHhRQYydU0OYSMOFWem4tzrOJXsbTrC-DYb8GZMvTgyNuxemrZroW7As00aK5ZNDLUcjOOjIAe733Yn04EQTg9g6wJiYLY4Dv2EfMTvlMxCBDJhve_-L60LeqD6_jzWjIFRZKz3O2exKVkFcvxZGAWA/s1042/Screenshot%202024-01-01%20132003.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="1042" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-6m4akvQ3fC4d1FwPGXwQ4nP-hBVj3JaHhRQYydU0OYSMOFWem4tzrOJXsbTrC-DYb8GZMvTgyNuxemrZroW7As00aK5ZNDLUcjOOjIAe733Yn04EQTg9g6wJiYLY4Dv2EfMTvlMxCBDJhve_-L60LeqD6_jzWjIFRZKz3O2exKVkFcvxZGAWA/s16000/Screenshot%202024-01-01%20132003.png" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p><p>Some of my favorite trails are:</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Panorama Loop and Warren Peak, which are about a 9 mile loop from Black Rock campground. I've done numerous off-trail climbs and descents of Warren Peak on foot from the house, and adding the Panorama Loop gets you one enormous Joshua Tree and some nice views down toward the Coachella Valley.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUned8cyqcNO4jViLSWOr3WJXfIlIPIojnGr4Ftln6fhXhpkuQ1VNzi_LS-Ml2bs8zuNoCq_ISmRJTwOpL1U8wlRLTcwoLMonIKyRQpNXRJ7t2ySdr3yVUB-cqh_MItO4JiVWpQ_4w-uxYmo4-auXuSYQgXZ8dsNmqs6Sfa_2US1eLASMC-Vt5UA/s4608/IMG_20210519_190145947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUned8cyqcNO4jViLSWOr3WJXfIlIPIojnGr4Ftln6fhXhpkuQ1VNzi_LS-Ml2bs8zuNoCq_ISmRJTwOpL1U8wlRLTcwoLMonIKyRQpNXRJ7t2ySdr3yVUB-cqh_MItO4JiVWpQ_4w-uxYmo4-auXuSYQgXZ8dsNmqs6Sfa_2US1eLASMC-Vt5UA/s320/IMG_20210519_190145947.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rattler on Warren Summit<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /> <br /></li><li>Maze Loop and North View Trail. The parking lot is a glorified dirt pullout that can hold four cars, but at least Google knows where it is, and the trails are relatively well-marked. Nice running among boulders once you get away from the park road. It's also one of the first parcels Mojave Desert Land Trust (where Amy used to work) conveyed to the Park.<br /></li><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZG-Vl0ukhCdhK6snb7idGT5i7YYvICGQhUaPAYKu-apFBSYgXD2BKKmPFO6Xo4j6IrkDp_JbJixi9Hl9wqyZR35ODymZwOYCwvuRFv3NCpI6hg6xwMhAzO2OntI1ZHXVZoVDDm4zXvhGtsQ8jpU06mipMp0w1nk_HUmeV240ehdV5ctCn7p96g/s4608/IMG_20210514_085124708.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZG-Vl0ukhCdhK6snb7idGT5i7YYvICGQhUaPAYKu-apFBSYgXD2BKKmPFO6Xo4j6IrkDp_JbJixi9Hl9wqyZR35ODymZwOYCwvuRFv3NCpI6hg6xwMhAzO2OntI1ZHXVZoVDDm4zXvhGtsQ8jpU06mipMp0w1nk_HUmeV240ehdV5ctCn7p96g/w640-h480/IMG_20210514_085124708.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nolina on Nolina Peak<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><li>Nolina Peak: a 3.7 mile roundtrip on a dirt road. It's just my favorite steep runnable hill around here, with good sunsets and views of Yucca Valley. Since it's a road, the dogs are allowed. </li><li>Lost Palms Oasis Trail. 7+ miles roundtrip. The furthest south trail of any consequence in the park. You get a completely different set of plants: ocotillo rather than Joshua trees, and the palm oasis is impressive--running water in the desert. <br /></li></ul><br /><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56xV5TLK78gN_jjK6VrXiq8FjD_BI1g3BeBmRUBsGhha7_pNqz8n11AVlqjPJKOQPNu95ZD6jdjQ0FNbgY-eZfkkEus81DDOHisN2VsmwSK7_nF_BYKC57Qo3IwjKHg6Xzl4k3SkL2Wi9igselqhMwL0KhyphenhyphengeYnuoX3dtMaRiy2mW3DPUQPk40Q/s4032/2023-09-04%2009.57.48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56xV5TLK78gN_jjK6VrXiq8FjD_BI1g3BeBmRUBsGhha7_pNqz8n11AVlqjPJKOQPNu95ZD6jdjQ0FNbgY-eZfkkEus81DDOHisN2VsmwSK7_nF_BYKC57Qo3IwjKHg6Xzl4k3SkL2Wi9igselqhMwL0KhyphenhyphengeYnuoX3dtMaRiy2mW3DPUQPk40Q/w480-h640/2023-09-04%2009.57.48.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Ocotillo<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjegRlt9S_TP3Ew0zy_aHF0Lyg2swS-jmVDbsJF1-09yu9Wn_3i6lAvl2LWWVOmbFuKBxN3qjrI3id9dzbhQIbo8mN_U92-1QH4j6mYfut8NXLYpDf8US9keDslrEvLSGEx0MHZ2XR_REMygdOLALHOFCU0zf4XYDQcJuR2bBjoyRcE0gKrL5GoQ/s4032/2023-09-04%2010.51.15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjegRlt9S_TP3Ew0zy_aHF0Lyg2swS-jmVDbsJF1-09yu9Wn_3i6lAvl2LWWVOmbFuKBxN3qjrI3id9dzbhQIbo8mN_U92-1QH4j6mYfut8NXLYpDf8US9keDslrEvLSGEx0MHZ2XR_REMygdOLALHOFCU0zf4XYDQcJuR2bBjoyRcE0gKrL5GoQ/s320/2023-09-04%2010.51.15.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running Water<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Would I recommend it? Not as a thru-hike, since it's very circuitous and repetitive, and there is essentially no water in the park. As pictured above, there of course is a tiny bit, but humans are not allowed to drink it, because it's essential for the survival of wildlife. If someone wanted to spend a few weeks (with a car) camping in and around the park, then sure, I think it's a worthy goal. Now that I've done it, it seems silly and arbitrary, and I would much prefer getting off trail into the small canyons or on top of some peaks. Speaking of which, I'm headed to Smith Water Canyon right now.<br /></p></div>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-81855704017962552332023-12-08T22:35:00.004-05:002023-12-09T01:28:24.524-05:00Wrapping Up 2023: Chicago Marathon, EBM, Hidden Valley Hammer 10K<p><b>Chicago Marathon </b><br /></p><p>When I was planning my races for the year, I thought that after my June and July 100s, I'd switch over to speed training, and try to set a PR at the Chicago Marathon in October. It was an excuse to visit my good friend in Chicago, it's a flat and fast course, and after Boston would be the only one of the World Majors that I've run. </p><p>I needed some time in late July and early August to recover from Crazy Mountain 100, so that took a couple weeks. Then I traveled to DC and back to Yucca Valley, and tried to do some mile repeats there, but I also just wanted to go run trails in Joshua Tree National Park as part of my project to run every maintained trail in the park. Then finally in September when Amy and I had a weekend with no travel where I could train, I didn't want to spend my birthday weekend running a flat or paved trail, so of course we went camping in the Sierra and I did a long mountain run instead. It wasn't optimal training to try and run a sub-3 hour marathon, but I had the realization that I absolutely did not care. I may still be able to run one more PR marathon before I'm too old, but if that happens it's only going to be between December to March, because why the hell would I go do long runs on pavement or flat roads when the mountains are open? I was still getting miles in, so of course I could finish a marathon and run it well, it just wouldn't be my fastest, and I was fine with that.</p><p>So I went into Chicago not knowing what I'd be capable of. I felt slow on my few runs in DC with fast friends, but I routinely run faster in races than in training, and anything slower than 3:30 (8 min/mile) seems ... silly? pathetic? A day or two before I flew to Chicago I ran 3 miles at right about PR pace (6:50 min/mile) to test out my new pair of Nike race supershoes, so I thought I might as well run a few miles that fast during the race.<br /></p><p>The day before the race was rainy and windy. Driving to the expo was slow; the expo itself was super crowded, if well-organized. (Make sure to download the PDF with your QR code beforehand, you might not get cell service inside the largest convention center in North America.) Transportation to the race the morning of was easy, since trains regularly run that early. I got my three (yes, three) poops in before the race start and my B corral was easy to find. The 3:00 and 3:05 pace groups were in the corral with me, so I thought I might as well start with them and see how long I could hang. I've really liked it when I start something like a minute behind them, then quickly catch up, and then try and stick with the group--thanks to chip timing differentials, it feels like it gives me a tiny cushion.</p><p>The first mile was crowded so a little slow (7:09), but two through four were each 6:36 to 6:46. Then I settled in to the low 6:50's every mile through mile 13. I was looking forward to seeing a friend around mile 8, but I didn't see him so I got a little bummed. Turns out he was there and got a good photo, but we're all running fast and that's early on so it's still pretty crowded and loud. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UPP35OSDbwMWdFOS-GuPmKKEMojwg2pcqHNmDnBtK8xauu7-ics2gE1ew1pM3vhZOIh1ZyIbll_OROk4M_ZktUJq_jDvEQKFDGeKzETq3kcuKqOMs5Mcb5JTNCvDAc-ypafJJEvnRUAwpo6UayhdsDtiTlzkKX-J9YtnQqbqozFrRWOZNT3Siw/s1283/IMG-20231008-WA0003.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1197" data-original-width="1283" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UPP35OSDbwMWdFOS-GuPmKKEMojwg2pcqHNmDnBtK8xauu7-ics2gE1ew1pM3vhZOIh1ZyIbll_OROk4M_ZktUJq_jDvEQKFDGeKzETq3kcuKqOMs5Mcb5JTNCvDAc-ypafJJEvnRUAwpo6UayhdsDtiTlzkKX-J9YtnQqbqozFrRWOZNT3Siw/w400-h374/IMG-20231008-WA0003.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Despite missing him at mile 8, I kept going right on pace, until somewhere after mile 13 I felt a painful twinge on the inside of my right thigh, likely my hip adductor. I'd never really felt pain there before, but when I injured my hamstring a PT said that your leg likes to recruit from other areas, including the adductor, which had had enough. I was briefly ahead of the 3:05 pace group, but as soon as my adductor went off, I fell behind them.<br /><p></p><p>I kept going, but every mile from 15 through 25 was slower than the last. Mile 25 took me 8:42. Finally I sped back up a bit for 26, and crossed the finish line in 3:15:35. </p><p>That's probably my 6th fastest marathon out of I think 13. So for being old and not specifically training for it, I'm pretty happy about it. That second half <i>hurt</i> though. I kept thinking that I better not stop at all, because if I stopped there was no way I'd be able to start up anywhere near that fast again.</p><p>I hobbled through the finish area, immediately quite cold, getting colder drinking the free finish beer. The gear pickup was heinous--the lines were a mess. I offered multiple times to help hand out bags, but head volunteers said it wasn't allowed. In retrospect, it was one of the more enjoyable moments, because I struck up conversations with multiple people near me, unlike in the race where I did not speak to a single soul until mile 25 and then only for a single sentence.</p><p>It was fun to be a part of the race where <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oC3_2RTzb0Q" target="_blank">Kelvin Kiptum set the world record</a>. However, I wouldn't really call the course pretty--it doesn't go down the Magnificent Mile, you don't run through Grant Park since it starts and ends at the edges of it, and there were literally only two blocks with historic brownstones. Or maybe I was just running fast (until I wasn't) and didn't notice and didn't stop and look up to see if I was running under any skyscrapers. Based on a quick comparison of Google Maps to <a href="https://assets-chicagomarathon-com.s3.amazonaws.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/2023-Bank-of-America-Chicago-Marathon-Course-Map.pdf" target="_blank">the course map</a> I think the closest runners are to iconic skyscrapers is around Mile 2. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VF5Y64SYzlIPubI8wGDnUn64-YjBJKg9_h3xMa6uQ_AR6G9VNVIr0jES-ItWuEESkhDfLgYIsBpE7WsWdvAl-a_PW9qzrN7ljwbD2Ox_SfSZak_UHCvdOKTR33oxck_WdeivtmbCcJaqHsmImh2Yq-0io7CVe_0rIJhFSwmEpyohzrl_1Csdgw/s4000/852345_1014_0015.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2659" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VF5Y64SYzlIPubI8wGDnUn64-YjBJKg9_h3xMa6uQ_AR6G9VNVIr0jES-ItWuEESkhDfLgYIsBpE7WsWdvAl-a_PW9qzrN7ljwbD2Ox_SfSZak_UHCvdOKTR33oxck_WdeivtmbCcJaqHsmImh2Yq-0io7CVe_0rIJhFSwmEpyohzrl_1Csdgw/w425-h640/852345_1014_0015.jpg" width="425" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>Anyway, I'm glad I ran the race, and I had a fun time with my friend in Chicago. Hopefully there's a race I can run fast in March or next year December. <br /></p>
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<p><b>Euchre Bar Massacre</b></p><p>Somewhat as a joke, since the races are polar opposites in style, I planned to do Euchre Bar Massacre the week after Chicago. It was the 10th year of the race, and I think my 5th time running it. Unfortunately, I got sick on the way home from Chicago. So I didn't camp prior to the start and instead took Margo and George out to the course for a late start and whatever I could manage. I ran into a few of the runners at the rear of the pack, including a friend of a friend who I've been wanting to meet. He's done a 20<br />0+ mile race in Europe that I'm planning on for 2025, so it was nice to get some beta from him. Anyway, it was a nice day goofing off with the dogs in one of my favorite canyons, if not really a race for me.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2464" data-original-width="3280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETcF3lhr4xNEbb7pAkxUEBu9rJbOEfJnmnYur3AtE_Oks2vcMru_ugtBSV-LKrcxdt33TIm1H90M-ebv3qX5GaU1F4Tt8QZTud4X6YhFnORkhT3SbaBRdfy4b2Y5WlbbZJ6BTGcX5yvm2VcMSl1H29XhG9rVoH2TSmFDwePLjxDrJVTCcnY8RLQ/w640-h480/2023-10-14%2018.00.17.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A short skirt and a loooooong jacket<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><p>
<b>Hidden Valley Hammer </b><p></p><p>Shortly after moving<b> </b>to Reno I heard about a race people loved to hate, the Hidden Valley Hammer 10K. Straight up, then straight down? Count me in! I think I've trained more in this park (Hidden Valley Regional Park) than in any other near Reno. It's on the East side so it the peaks aren't as high, but it is also runnable more of the year than the Sierra on the west. Did I mention it's steep?</p><p>The <a href="https://wffoundation.org/" target="_blank">Wildland Firefighter Foundation</a> organizes the 10K as a fundraiser. It's possible the fundraising for a very relevant organization aids with getting permits (did I mention it's steep?) The race was a ton of fun; the only bummer was that I didn't see many friends from my normal trail running world (Silver State Striders) there. Is it possible the proportion of masochists is higher among fit firefighters than trail runners? Regardless, I had fun<b> </b>and came in 16th place, which is likely the best I will ever finish in a 10K.<b><br /></b></p>
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The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-13873561868267481882023-11-07T00:45:00.004-05:002023-11-07T00:45:46.463-05:00Crazy Mountain 100<p>I ran the Crazy Mountain 100 in Montana at the end of July. The course was absolutely gorgeous and the race organization, swag, and vibes were all excellent. I performed OK but not great: my hamstring was weak but not outright painful for a portion of the race but eventually cooperated. I spent a nice couple days in Montana after the race.<br /><br /></p><p>I flew to Bozeman Thursday the 27th and picked up my rental car. Oddly the cheapest car available was an F-150, which I was happy to rent so I could easily get to a backcountry aid station, even though I think modern big American trucks are stupid stupid stupid (evil). My trip reinforced my beliefs since the truck was a gas hog, was a pain in the ass to park, and <a href="https://kmph.com/news/local/dangerous-blind-spots-in-trucks-and-suvs-cause-hundreds-of-child-deaths" target="_blank">seeing over the high hood is indeed child-killingly difficult</a>. I also turned out not to need to get to any backcountry aid stations because my pacer broke his elbow a week before the race and had to drop, so there was no need to drive on rough roads, and a Prius would have been just fine. Oh well.</p><p>I picked up a can of bear spray from a local friend and drove to the finish line in a hay field in the middle of nowhere 80 miles northeast of Bozeman. I picked up my race swag, listened to a short race briefing, and slept uncomfortably in the cab of the truck. (I brought a tarp but the field was a little buggy and a storm passed through in the night so I didn't really actually want to use it.) In the morning I caught a shuttle bus, and had just enough time to poop before the race started, but only because I deliberately sat in the first row of the bus so that I'd be the first off. Having the buses leave ten minutes earlier in the future wouldn't hurt anybody. </p><p>The race started on a gentle grade up a dirt road. I ran with Scott and Derek for most of the first 15 miles or so, but as expected (especially since they kept remarking how weird it was that they were starting further back in the pack than usual) I couldn't keep up with them after that. An early storm rolled in about an hour after the start, so it got cold enough to put on my rain jacket, but it didn't actually rain. The race has six climbs, and the first felt gradual and was almost all under tree cover. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtYp_H7E75ga21HmClhspHKrZu5yMkgmvB-b0V4zol8fleCG2BBwNdjHJYA0MWZPhMI_w6ow-MnXwYKgfRhY3umxIhywjG8Edji2-f4rD-NDdcFmFdf7YleHb61BKEKlpkNxHih3EmULvuCgCIGn3H1lqDWrEQ4XCG0c8_0bEf9vUbmt7OEV2LA/s4608/2023-07-28%2009.11.02.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtYp_H7E75ga21HmClhspHKrZu5yMkgmvB-b0V4zol8fleCG2BBwNdjHJYA0MWZPhMI_w6ow-MnXwYKgfRhY3umxIhywjG8Edji2-f4rD-NDdcFmFdf7YleHb61BKEKlpkNxHih3EmULvuCgCIGn3H1lqDWrEQ4XCG0c8_0bEf9vUbmt7OEV2LA/s320/2023-07-28%2009.11.02.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Derek and Scott early on<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> <br /></p><p>When the second climb began in earnest, my hamstring began to feel weak and slow. Not a sharp pain like a new tear or strain, but a consistent weak feeling when swinging my right leg forward that was really slowing me down and frustrating me. I spent a while blaming everyone conceivably responsible for my hamstring and/or my not getting a great amount of sleep in the days before the race and/or the FDIC ending remote work and my having to move back to DC next year. Eventually, I laid down in the grass and stretched my hamstring. It felt a tiny bit better, but then when I started walking again, I realized something had stung or bit my head when I was laying down. It hurt, and following the rule that my brain can only focus on one source of pain at a time, my hamstring didn't bother me so much any more, so I kept climbing successfully. The view at the top of the climb was outstanding, and the trail stayed above treeline for a while.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5YUdakOcjNNkHSZ05cTlLJ5ImWIf-H-NU0khwKPfhmDivldPpX-WFaP2mihM6-2P93EmEoFovd1tjzpfoga1l9_CcwxZztNK6Kjkxrb_tV3YC4s1KbmIzJsS334KKa7_U69JZVNt7PJeMaLteXPkogmXKVUEY7hFozz02e_Yu9If_nYp6EJi0iQ/s4608/2023-07-31%2011.08.28.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5YUdakOcjNNkHSZ05cTlLJ5ImWIf-H-NU0khwKPfhmDivldPpX-WFaP2mihM6-2P93EmEoFovd1tjzpfoga1l9_CcwxZztNK6Kjkxrb_tV3YC4s1KbmIzJsS334KKa7_U69JZVNt7PJeMaLteXPkogmXKVUEY7hFozz02e_Yu9If_nYp6EJi0iQ/w640-h480/2023-07-31%2011.08.28.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3JOJ25tPhHo8PrxezUFIfNNzqsddR6dh6eBRiq_Ew9MACt76HOCc-JX-2UY96E980bfkJ9Ko-JsbzlnmDBObiK5u9T-JS19tHu6XqCgrjbvei19y7DtIcY-aR4G9PKpi7cHodEG9hK7wND3Ls7g4Gx1fKjnvmUs7QOlzl0fD9LYwRo-Kx41ZeMA/s2304/2023-07-28%2012.40.55.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3JOJ25tPhHo8PrxezUFIfNNzqsddR6dh6eBRiq_Ew9MACt76HOCc-JX-2UY96E980bfkJ9Ko-JsbzlnmDBObiK5u9T-JS19tHu6XqCgrjbvei19y7DtIcY-aR4G9PKpi7cHodEG9hK7wND3Ls7g4Gx1fKjnvmUs7QOlzl0fD9LYwRo-Kx41ZeMA/w400-h300/2023-07-28%2012.40.55.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy about the views<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>The third and fourth big climbs were an out and back over another stunning alpine pass. It started raining on me on the descent, which was nice in that I didn't have to worry about lightning since I was going in the right direction to avoid it anyway. The way down to Halfmoon aid station at mile 43 (and back up) was fairly rocky. A nice group of friends waiting for their runner helped crew me at the aid station (amazing tomato soup), and I climbed back up over climb four, which I completed just as it got dark. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3S640_sQuXi5lvr94tXVpiy3AT-YES6Jm6-5XmTjnm2ZCDB7hC2OQ-n2TP44O_PXLXizMS2aCUAPqKPJnci2Wv1sUAUqtbnHPTeLryhJgVVC1mFDc8AH_LPGiDQLzDzZ8ZZ13FnTz2XwueggdLtc1SZxe7PJd0T4Pc3dg3-0lUzTBSWLAx7T8A/s4608/2023-07-28%2012.51.45.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3S640_sQuXi5lvr94tXVpiy3AT-YES6Jm6-5XmTjnm2ZCDB7hC2OQ-n2TP44O_PXLXizMS2aCUAPqKPJnci2Wv1sUAUqtbnHPTeLryhJgVVC1mFDc8AH_LPGiDQLzDzZ8ZZ13FnTz2XwueggdLtc1SZxe7PJd0T4Pc3dg3-0lUzTBSWLAx7T8A/s320/2023-07-28%2012.51.45.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf5GW5FTl8t_6dXBGP7eJ3eXQ0OgK-n_JRY4rZ0k7fHNdAZPZERcv3pqmRMOABhOMQaic_V4ty7zdp_e8KJOxcBYO3k7FDqoSeIUxUb9XW5c4gb5nJyTHjjRZ4EgtpXeHoY_VGDzwqUgHHI9Vf40ZUu8dYiT48p_8VIHAqx_kHc3Sc820cncNr0Q/s4608/2023-07-28%2013.12.35.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf5GW5FTl8t_6dXBGP7eJ3eXQ0OgK-n_JRY4rZ0k7fHNdAZPZERcv3pqmRMOABhOMQaic_V4ty7zdp_e8KJOxcBYO3k7FDqoSeIUxUb9XW5c4gb5nJyTHjjRZ4EgtpXeHoY_VGDzwqUgHHI9Vf40ZUu8dYiT48p_8VIHAqx_kHc3Sc820cncNr0Q/s320/2023-07-28%2013.12.35.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8T5ReNcd-L1P7Z-j98_WzrI79kR-8a9CdylcpeOOP5OuaPABwtn-LMQwET8VL4VauKjLgyy_zGwIRvzE2wGvrn6x_OZgw0XIzEn5uDMf540pSf_kmQDsmFVAHIWloLFgKd6CJ6H8vR0k5wgA9qpBogp7pfD4chjhejlZ0-WplT20YzQFLEgpQQ/s2304/2023-07-28%2016.24.11.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8T5ReNcd-L1P7Z-j98_WzrI79kR-8a9CdylcpeOOP5OuaPABwtn-LMQwET8VL4VauKjLgyy_zGwIRvzE2wGvrn6x_OZgw0XIzEn5uDMf540pSf_kmQDsmFVAHIWloLFgKd6CJ6H8vR0k5wgA9qpBogp7pfD4chjhejlZ0-WplT20YzQFLEgpQQ/s320/2023-07-28%2016.24.11.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p> <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpcG1Y5vt4X3If-gDfOHX9aCn8sfNVeM2Oj2KSb5zv-ojvqCkR-LDhnDVhQz_JFrK0LqjcnbixJUmTIgokHLuUCP_2B3TcdY0CEhVsuidF3BS3nJozIhYTleQac7EKkPCIfBKNZ1pUX0YXRB2tBRRRhFNsenQtOLpLYsk5bOEcCPD27ueHLS3vw/s4608/2023-07-28%2016.31.07.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpcG1Y5vt4X3If-gDfOHX9aCn8sfNVeM2Oj2KSb5zv-ojvqCkR-LDhnDVhQz_JFrK0LqjcnbixJUmTIgokHLuUCP_2B3TcdY0CEhVsuidF3BS3nJozIhYTleQac7EKkPCIfBKNZ1pUX0YXRB2tBRRRhFNsenQtOLpLYsk5bOEcCPD27ueHLS3vw/s320/2023-07-28%2016.31.07.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rain coming<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> <br /></p><p>I passed through Cow Camp aid station the second time at mile 55. It was impressively stocked for an aid station that's entirely packed in on horseback, and the volunteers were enthusiastic. After crossing the creek, the trail was quite muddy which slowed me down significantly until the climbing began in earnest again. I topped out on climb five in the dark. I'm sure it's another excellent alpine pass, but of course I couldn't tell in the dark. </p><p>At one of the next two aid stations I changed shoes and socks--my feet were painfully pruned by this point as they'd been wet all day--it felt like one of the wetter races I've run. After a big operation of cleaning, drying, and powdering my feet and changing shoes and socks, I asked an aid station volunteer how long it would be until I had to cross a creek again, and she said "about a quarter mile." But I think I was able to mostly stay dry. There was even a very weirdly built trail in the next few miles that crossed a creek something like 13 times in a short span, but I was able to find logs for most of the crossings. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSs7x_YbDj0KY9b8Ayw1Cx_qHlP5gvucKBWtmb5MmMYtxvL782sO3xn2OByzrFAbwC-rA9uIJXh4lD9oIItyHJLW8vIQ_wsvTTyX2vyFDIN9eklQ2j-Z_uxDrsAyt8LyfebRSygmnoS3rr42zlh3eSmfkTN_l37HjSuhRVgcCL_yo3kpo9mYZ4Vw/s4608/2023-07-30%2006.16.17.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSs7x_YbDj0KY9b8Ayw1Cx_qHlP5gvucKBWtmb5MmMYtxvL782sO3xn2OByzrFAbwC-rA9uIJXh4lD9oIItyHJLW8vIQ_wsvTTyX2vyFDIN9eklQ2j-Z_uxDrsAyt8LyfebRSygmnoS3rr42zlh3eSmfkTN_l37HjSuhRVgcCL_yo3kpo9mYZ4Vw/w400-h300/2023-07-30%2006.16.17.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second morning<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> <br /></p><p>The second day didn't have much for alpine scenery, but the final climb still felt huge. I was thinking it would be easier given the elevation profile, but it very much did not feel that way. It was an open grassy slope, and we traversed cross-country for a while. (A few more marker ribbons would have been helpful, despite having the GPX on my watch and phone. When I registered I was actually looking forward to a race that required a little bit of navigation, but in the end it just felt like it more markers would make more sense--someone already went to the trouble to flag it sparingly, and everyone knows that we're obviously just following this ridge, there's no real question about that, so why not just mark it more?) </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67go55ibb47Lu4joyVFfvI3PAnTze2SP2uooeQV25b26XverqbHTGIfgzfCTVmEca3H3GCfMKfE9BOCDHsoN0ntZZxV0WF4TuQT_cdp9fEaJrL-zcoZYOJtbdbeHLhf8NIYQ1Fh5_TS7t9QWhZUx-Fvhe7UYQbkAjWbEXXHXwBPeWgSNGVkwcSw/s4608/2023-07-29%2011.05.07.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67go55ibb47Lu4joyVFfvI3PAnTze2SP2uooeQV25b26XverqbHTGIfgzfCTVmEca3H3GCfMKfE9BOCDHsoN0ntZZxV0WF4TuQT_cdp9fEaJrL-zcoZYOJtbdbeHLhf8NIYQ1Fh5_TS7t9QWhZUx-Fvhe7UYQbkAjWbEXXHXwBPeWgSNGVkwcSw/s320/2023-07-29%2011.05.07.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still more climbing to do<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAE2_EEZzpn-HvcAZ32cehxOb1CkkviU_3fr5_WAFEKTzaRyfAyNUCDeD-uPIG5pBn8Qr-WVvzHoe5OwL57X9dvkD1hYJ-uyfZ9bYk8MNV4jMEZQnehyw7lbWW8YfTHfHuPk4EJ3jyRKARvG0LCgjZugAV5NdMXq_FmypqBeMq3dH1smcUn1O43g/s2304/2023-07-29%2009.36.31.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAE2_EEZzpn-HvcAZ32cehxOb1CkkviU_3fr5_WAFEKTzaRyfAyNUCDeD-uPIG5pBn8Qr-WVvzHoe5OwL57X9dvkD1hYJ-uyfZ9bYk8MNV4jMEZQnehyw7lbWW8YfTHfHuPk4EJ3jyRKARvG0LCgjZugAV5NdMXq_FmypqBeMq3dH1smcUn1O43g/w640-h480/2023-07-29%2009.36.31.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along the grassy ridge<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>A little more climbing, a lot more horseflies, a long descent on a rocky dirt road, a few miles of flat dirt road, a mile or so of pavement, and I was done. Finish time of 32:26. It wasn't my best time, but I was right in the middle of the pack (66 of 122 finishers). My hamstring didn't cooperate 100%, but it worked. In a few previous 100s I thought I might be getting too old to handle the sleepless night. Turns out I just need to take caffeine, and then my brain won't go to mush.</p><p> I hung out at the finish line the rest of the day, as did nearly all the runners, having a great time. There was an interesting mix of people: young dirtbag thru-hiker types, Native Americans, and a Wyomingite who carried a gun the whole race (I carried bear spray, but in retrospect I don't think grizz are common in the Crazies, so I might not bother if I did it again), vegans, and cattle ranchers. <br /></p><p>The one accidental bummer about the race is that I brought something on the bus to the start and gave it to someone to bring to the finish, but their runner DNFd, so I never saw them or my Nemo Fillo Elite pillow again (until I just now ordered a new on online.) For a race run by a cattle rancher, the vegan/vegetarian options were pretty good. (Bobo's Bites are excellent, just be sure and have the volunteers separate the cheese quesadillas from the chicken and cheese ones, because having runners just leaf through a random stack trying to look for only the not-lumpy ones is a crappy way to try and identify food you feel OK eating. As always, vegetarian ramen is one million times tastier than straight vegetable broth.) <br /></p><p>I used to tell anyone who asked that IMTUF or Bighorn were the most scenic 100-milers in the U.S. that you can get into without a lottery. Crazy is for sure on that list now as well.<br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-47675602327753727792023-07-05T19:56:00.001-04:002023-07-05T20:04:11.872-04:00The 50th Year of Trying to Hold the Western States Endurance Run<p>I ran the 50th Western States Endurance Run June 24-25 in a disappointing 28:54. </p><p>I mean, 50 years ago a guy ran a horse race, and 47 times since then a footrace of similar distance has been held. (There was one fire cancellation and one COVID cancellation.) So it's kind of the 48th running in the 50th year, but whatever. By disappointing I mean it took me longer than 24 hours, and it took me longer than the 25:30 it took me when I did it 10 years ago. (And by 10 years ago I mean 10 years, not eight, though I believe I applied eight times in those 10 years, having not bothered to apply in 2014, and if I remember correctly, COVID meant they rolled over 2020 without a new lottery.)</p><p>I trained hard and consistently from early March through May 20, going as far as hiring an online coach. That seemed to work well, until it didn't. I hurt my hamstring running the Silver State 50K (more on that in my <a href="https://garrettheonion.blogspot.com/2023/05/silver-state-update.html" target="_blank">previous post</a>) and babied my hamstring for the final five weeks prior to Western States. Twice in those five weeks I thought everything was better but then my hamstring flared up again. I spoke to four different physical therapists and did multiple visits with the one I saw in-person in Reno. He wasn't very worried about injury ("just don't do any sprinting or too much direct stretching"), but I still spent a lot more time on the bike than I did running. So I started the race not sure if I would finish, but hoping for the best. I still had two pacers and Amy as crew lined up, and in the back of my mind a sub-24 finish was still the goal.</p><p>About 20 of the first 30 miles of the course were on snow. My plan was to take it easy on the snow to avoid slipping and tweaking anything. I hiked/ran some of the first few miles with Barkley-finisher John Fegyveresi, and we both were ahead of world-record-holder-who-is-terrible-on-snow Camille Herron for a while, so I figured I wasn't doing that terribly, despite being well behind my 2013 time. (36 minutes by the first aid station, 51 by the second, an hour 12 by the third.) </p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoEDFpGKi5HIol29gJebWadgPyPq3H_8sC-jLnEn6SCQHJ4mvI9qhU3yGvHbQnyHBQhtxP4uAYGZQEChWj1J4FZ1MkdXjWU_Y_azq2ONnugT7XEitYLV3jMB-GBv-2-l_7PgT6cHK1dNhqbh5796mJvkpJbWt6607iy4NzZdnXw9h7yie7eV1Xyw/s4608/2023-06-24%2007.56.30.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoEDFpGKi5HIol29gJebWadgPyPq3H_8sC-jLnEn6SCQHJ4mvI9qhU3yGvHbQnyHBQhtxP4uAYGZQEChWj1J4FZ1MkdXjWU_Y_azq2ONnugT7XEitYLV3jMB-GBv-2-l_7PgT6cHK1dNhqbh5796mJvkpJbWt6607iy4NzZdnXw9h7yie7eV1Xyw/s320/2023-06-24%2007.56.30.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camille early on<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyANUIW4wa9uuDNE64q7oYL2PlDIiqXGlNW__zLfAZ_kfijAxKhV8RifTMCOMWQ1Tb49-otRLGLvnnGLxPYiHAayLqQYjuUCy2nrsfflibIIycjDlfa_xRkqtcm598ilJUN9YI60x6MhczIPVUkx3g6xpBSxpKtCMHEsnMIkgIeBZZeKHmOE2aQQ/s2304/2023-06-24%2006.59.02.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyANUIW4wa9uuDNE64q7oYL2PlDIiqXGlNW__zLfAZ_kfijAxKhV8RifTMCOMWQ1Tb49-otRLGLvnnGLxPYiHAayLqQYjuUCy2nrsfflibIIycjDlfa_xRkqtcm598ilJUN9YI60x6MhczIPVUkx3g6xpBSxpKtCMHEsnMIkgIeBZZeKHmOE2aQQ/s320/2023-06-24%2006.59.02.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John F just behind me early on<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>Finally, the very last snow berm was done and I got to Robinson Flat, mile 30, in 7 hours 47 minutes--a full hour and a half slower than my 2013 time and and hour and 15 minutes slower than the race's suggested 24-hour pace. I still felt decent--we're done with the snow and my hamstring tendon feels fine, so just don't lose any more time, I thought. I saw my friend's mom and got a hug, and my pacer worked on my legs with his massage gun, so I felt decent.</p><p>Four miles later at Miller's Defeat I had gained 23 spots, coming in 1:17 behind 2013. Four more miles to Dusty Corners and I was an 1:04 behind 2013. Five more miles to Last Chance and I was 1:10 behind 2013.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWHR_Fq1xVMFU1xXvVai1Bycf6HUnjb_7VGNVXG8b-cwIWnijjApSEdZhWVaTZPLJXres67g3BWTVUyicCrIMkms5_C6zlqyITL7Eej0gXI81AC_XNbgaGCvGstmr1sZAiwNLWCwLwELyudyaJuEtlJqKzdC_UvNudc_Rw0sunLSqzdG9hN4hpA/s2304/2023-06-24%2014.24.57.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="1728" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWHR_Fq1xVMFU1xXvVai1Bycf6HUnjb_7VGNVXG8b-cwIWnijjApSEdZhWVaTZPLJXres67g3BWTVUyicCrIMkms5_C6zlqyITL7Eej0gXI81AC_XNbgaGCvGstmr1sZAiwNLWCwLwELyudyaJuEtlJqKzdC_UvNudc_Rw0sunLSqzdG9hN4hpA/s320/2023-06-24%2014.24.57.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling not-awful at Dusty Corners<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmw8IuVPlznX_2B7C8jQXA-v5WD3YFD5YtDyT7sNX-TEV4QTgoYp4UhD33pc6iSHId9BLH0xG0irLqsOc5kwNrEZzZXvI-f9pdsuT-EFLNuMVjA4LJySYWCvOR_jfEJUMjCUb2MEH6iO6ZOapSIo5nMWc3NL8ixrrvFqcfFHhNzH_lEe23P69KQ/s4608/2023-06-24%2017.29.15.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmw8IuVPlznX_2B7C8jQXA-v5WD3YFD5YtDyT7sNX-TEV4QTgoYp4UhD33pc6iSHId9BLH0xG0irLqsOc5kwNrEZzZXvI-f9pdsuT-EFLNuMVjA4LJySYWCvOR_jfEJUMjCUb2MEH6iO6ZOapSIo5nMWc3NL8ixrrvFqcfFHhNzH_lEe23P69KQ/s320/2023-06-24%2017.29.15.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Then came the canyons. I tried not to bomb down them, taking smaller strides to reduce the pounding. Down and back up to Devil's Thumb. I'd lost only seven places and was an hour 27 minutes behind 2013. I thought I'd done decently, if not great. But on the flat dusty part between the two canyons I fell apart. And when I started to descend into the second canyon (El Dorado Creek), I could feel that my legs were toast. The pounding had gotten to both my quads and my hamstrings--not the tendon that had been injured, but the muscles that I'd babied for too long prior to the race. When I hobbled into El Dorado I'd been passed by 33 people on the entirely flat or downhill five miles, and I was now an hour 44 minutes behind 2013. This was especially disappointing because downhill running is my relative advantage. Running downhill is what makes life worth living. I am not supposed to get passed by more than 30 people on a 5-mile downhill stretch!<br /><p></p><p>The only non-miserable part of this section was the one conversation I had with another runner. Thus far my efforts to start up conversations had failed. On my miserable descent I'd finally had more than a sentence-long exchange with a police officer from eastern Washington state who said he'd run Badger Mountain 100 nine times. (More on that in a minute.)</p><p>I stayed in El Dorado Creek for a while, trying to down some soup before tackling the climb out. The three mile climb to Michigan Bluff took me an hour and 20 minutes. I stumbled in, two hours slower than 2013, about to cry, and Amy ran up to me and gave me a hug, said "I know, I know, it's OK" which was pretty much perfect. It was just a couple minutes shy of 8PM, meaning my pacers could start at Michigan Bluff rather than waiting another 6 miles till Forest Hill. Scott was not prepared for that but he ran back to the car in his sandals and got ready quickly. We started moving along together, and I was in a better mood if not running terribly fast. I still hated the Volcano Canyon section between Michigan Bluff and Bath Road, and this year due to private property issues there was significant additional pavement between Foresthill and Cal-1. Other runners continued to pass me between Michigan Bluff and Green Gate, where I was in 297th place. </p><p>After Green Gate the sun came up and my condition improved. I passed 15 people between there and Pointed Rocks, where Scott and Mike switched out pacing. I found some descent legs and passed 19 people between Pointed Rocks and Robie Point, and another three between Robie Point and the finish, where I crossed the line in 28:54.<br /></p><p>I didn't collapse or anything like I had in 2013 (the weather was delightful, only getting to the 80's instead of 100+ degrees in the canyons). I got a post-race massage, then watched the golden hour finishers (those finishing with just minutes or seconds to spare before the 30-hour cutoff.) The last finisher looked like she <i>really </i>wasn't having a good time, and the first guy over 30 hours came in completely doubled over at the waist, looking really rough.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZb20x8j7RIMsO82upEeondSQ92iJ8FW-_z4nKGbz1fByvA0PJk7Fv9z5FCOf9YAza_kQ-8kZzVT4J2l516dbGgRwVtreJEfZaIpPQlr1qQq2HM2a6tf30Qr1AWQmXdkjPokGmrS8CqjTBCAMwB5cYf4CR_vABi-p-vdy1_leLLnEhbdn-STCBkQ/s2304/2023-06-25%2009.57.53.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZb20x8j7RIMsO82upEeondSQ92iJ8FW-_z4nKGbz1fByvA0PJk7Fv9z5FCOf9YAza_kQ-8kZzVT4J2l516dbGgRwVtreJEfZaIpPQlr1qQq2HM2a6tf30Qr1AWQmXdkjPokGmrS8CqjTBCAMwB5cYf4CR_vABi-p-vdy1_leLLnEhbdn-STCBkQ/s320/2023-06-25%2009.57.53.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few minutes after finishing<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>So, in the end, I finished. I always finish, though. My pacers and Amy were talking while waiting for me, and one asked "Has Garret ever <i>not</i> finished a regular 100?" To which the reply was "Once, when he walked off the course out of spite because it was so poorly organized." Which was a nice little memory, since in my ~100 ultras and ~25 100-milers, the only DNF that shows up on Ultrasignup is the first edition of the Badger Mountain Challenge, where, even though Amy was ready to pace me for the last few miles, I quit because I was tired of running through unmarked industrial apple orchards and didn't think the course deserved to be finished because race organization was so poor. Interestingly, the first edition of that race came up during the race since the Eastern Washingtonian police officer I met and chatted with said he had run Badger Mountain nearly 10 times and he was in fact being paced at Western States by the RD from that infamous first year. (No hard feelings, organizing a race is super difficult, I just thought it was a funny coincidence: "Oh yeah, that first year was super poorly organized. By the way that guy is pacing me later today!")<br /></p><p>I finished Western States without injury, but my leg muscles were shot by the canyons. I'm disappointed that I got injured, but it happens. (By the way, I'm never doing strides--a workout you take an exaggerated stride length at the same cadence to gain speed--again.) I was looking forward to having a sub-24 Western States performance and not having to qualify and apply every year for the next 5-10 years, but oh well. The first 25 miles of the course are pretty, it's nice to run a course with a lot of fan support and excellent aid stations every so often, I felt alright for maybe half the miles, I had fun running with pacers and crew (thank you Caveman, Nano, and Amy!), and it was nice to be part of the 50th anniversary celebration. I've got worse things to worry about than my slow time: the day after States weekend the chairman of my agency decided to (in my opinion) further <a href="https://www.federaltimes.com/management/career/2023/06/27/fdic-will-call-federal-employees-back-to-offices-in-january/" target="_blank">violate our collective bargaining agreement</a> and called us back to the office full-time starting in January. I applied for another job already, and if he wants to push the 21% of our employees who are eligible for retirement out the door, he's doing a good job. On a more positive note, I'm feeling healthy and am ready for my July race that is a little
more my speed (23,000' of vert with some x-country travel in Montana). </p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-88344364753921173382023-05-30T18:54:00.006-04:002023-05-30T18:56:45.174-04:00Silver State Update<p>After the Black Canyon Double (still no swag!) I started training fairly consistently. I've done six consecutive weeks of 50+ miles of running, and 10 total with at least 45+. I hired a coach for the first time ever. This week, with only 30 miles of running, is my lowest since the first week of March, when everything was covered in snow. Everything is good, except for the fact that I'm a little bit injured.</p><p>In more detail, I decided to hire a coach because I really want to break 24 hours at Western States. I delayed more than I should have, but finally pulled the trigger after listening to a podcast with Jeff Browning, who is kicking butt in his early 50's and sounded like a great coach. I was a little leery of his anti-carbohydrate leanings, and it seemed a bit expensive, so I looked around a little more and decided to go with Gary Robbins' Ridgeline Athletics, since I met Gary at Barkley and he seemed like a great guy, and I'd had the idea last year around Tor that I'd try and hire him and do well at Barkley this year. Ridgeline put me with Adam Campbell and it's been going well so far (it's only been about a month). Side note: they're all Canadian so the exchange rate helps.</p><p>I've run two sub-3 road marathons, with extensive solo road and track training, but I've never been able to convert that road speed into trail speed. My coach has me paying attention to perceived effort (broken into 5 zones) rather than pace, since it makes little sense to compare pace over variable terrain. I've been doing about 11 hours a week, with three hard workouts, and slightly more vert than I'd normally get. (On my own I'd probably do flat stuff 2-3 days a week, with a coach it's more like just one.) I'm also trying to pay attention to my heart rate a little, and that mostly seems to line up with perceived effort, except for on hills, where my legs and aerobic capacity can seem taxed on uphills but my heartrate is only ~130, but then fast downhills seem easy but my heartrate is 160+. I don't quite know what's going on there.<br /></p><p>So I've been training a decent amount. I wanted a 50-miler tuneup race in May, so Amy and I planned a two-week trip to Yucca Valley around the Wild Wild West Marathon in the Alabama Hills outside Lone Pine, CA. I waited and waited to sign up, finally pulled the trigger mid-April, and then five days later the race got cancelled! I'm supposed to get a 50% refund, but haven't yet. To add insult to injury, we still drove down to Lone Pine, camped in and drove all over the Alabama Hills, and did not encounter a single ounce of flooding nor washed out roads.</p><p>I got a little bit of heat training in while we were in Yucca Valley, but not that much since it was actually still fairly cool for most of the time we were there. I also took a side-trip to Vegas for a conference. I enjoyed dinners with friends and a pretty drive there through Mojave Preserve, but the conference itself was actually pretty worthless. I also did one track workout at UNLV that may have been ill-advised since it was very hot and it quite possibly was the first time I ever did strides (exaggerated stride length at the same cadence as a way to speed up). </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJa4LboxtGSLUwjPgy4_cY9mXcyfq9GHmmaBv3kmhxUXGWkf9lrbu4tJwTuSZEUOF4YO2NAELFagevKc98KHM-8jRzP3B81Y8uKwGsiRWgzNJPP7yIt8dLl_sDI3XzaU7nAWa9KMdn0g2Lf0VN9BOY-iW9i0t7iSVaoK2yFhli6vsroZkqd1I/s4608/2023-05-14%2013.44.10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJa4LboxtGSLUwjPgy4_cY9mXcyfq9GHmmaBv3kmhxUXGWkf9lrbu4tJwTuSZEUOF4YO2NAELFagevKc98KHM-8jRzP3B81Y8uKwGsiRWgzNJPP7yIt8dLl_sDI3XzaU7nAWa9KMdn0g2Lf0VN9BOY-iW9i0t7iSVaoK2yFhli6vsroZkqd1I/w640-h480/2023-05-14%2013.44.10.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heat training run in JTNP, near Eureka Peak</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikxrIG42DM48r-8rXIXWL8Uis0IeVKOKdSSa4bnq-hVrPR25G7ov11qqW4eWslIDC-NJHniSQybulkBhkTqEqCRJzxDWg5UBJFmoHu9vMDezhVtMt9Kf58NFQt5ptgFdScbXfcpIoD8td3GzLIH2pzcizDb8ajwT4YnxoSXmffSDTkVzKW93A/s4608/2023-05-17%2019.19.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikxrIG42DM48r-8rXIXWL8Uis0IeVKOKdSSa4bnq-hVrPR25G7ov11qqW4eWslIDC-NJHniSQybulkBhkTqEqCRJzxDWg5UBJFmoHu9vMDezhVtMt9Kf58NFQt5ptgFdScbXfcpIoD8td3GzLIH2pzcizDb8ajwT4YnxoSXmffSDTkVzKW93A/w400-h300/2023-05-17%2019.19.25.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset from the UNLV track<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>We drove home to Reno Friday the 19th and I ran Silver State 50K the 20th. It was supposed to be a hot day, but it mostly felt OK to me. The start was perhaps warm, but not hot. Then we climbed up to near the summit of Peavine at 8,200 feet, so despite the warming weather, it still felt nice. A few people were passing me on the lower parts of the climb, but I didn't mind too much as I was telling myself to save it to go hard in the second half of the race, and I ran harder when I got to the slightly more chill road part of the climb. We dropped off the back side of Peavine and I passed a few people but was still just trying to not overdo it. Around halfway through, we headed back toward the summit, and I tried to run the reasonable climbs and hike faster than others on the steep parts. Around mile 21 we returned to Peavine Summit, and it was almost all downhill from there, so I started letting it rip. I passed around a half-dozen people, and kept up the pace even as it got hotter and hotter with each step of descent. (The start/finish is at around 4,700 feet.) I was definitely feeling it in the last mile or two, and was very glad that none of the people I passed made a serious effort to fend me off (as I would have), since I wasn't sure that I could turn it up any faster than the ~8 min/mile I was already doing. </p><p> I finished in 16th place in 6:25. That isn't that fast compared to the several 5:02-5:30 50K's that I used to do in the Bay Area, and it didn't have much more vert than those (5,000 to 6,000 feet), but hopefully the elevation (starting at 4,700 rather than sea level) and the heat count for something. 16th place out of ~100 is much better than I typically do. So maybe I'm ready for Western States?</p><p>Except I'm injured. </p><p>Aside from that, everything's great!</p><p>After the race, I went home and spent the day with Amy and the dogs, and tried to hydrate. I woke up early the next morning to catch a 5AM flight to Denver for a conference in Boulder. The conference was nice, and the host hotel was excellent. But I was supposed to hike or bike a little to get the body going, so I chose to walk a couple miles to the nearest Walgreens to pick up some snacks. I crossed a street and jogged a few steps to get out of the road faster and my hamstring yelled at me. It hurt in the same place as in 2020 when it took me 8 months to get better. Dammit. Some combination of strides, driving 8 hours, running 50K, then immediately getting on a plane aggravated my old injury.<br /></p><p>The sharp pain in my hamstring only lasted one day, the day following the race. I got a massage, I used the whirlpool jets in the hotel hottub like another massage, and I've mostly been biking and hiking since then. I was signed up for the Western States training camp (70 miles of the course over the three days of Memorial Day weekend) but all I ended up hiking/shuffling was 25 miles from Robinson Flat to Michigan Bluff on Day 1 before my hamstring, if not exactly hurt, warned me that it <i>was going</i> to hurt. </p><p>I'm headed to DC for work, so if my legs don't lock up on the plane, I'll be biking there, get some dry needling/e-stim work done by a PT there, and hopefully be running slowly<br /> by the weekend. <br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-14607843056638318172023-04-09T01:31:00.000-04:002023-04-09T01:31:12.131-04:002023 Black Canyon Double Results<p>As I mentioned in my previous post, I ran the 2023 Black Canyon 100K/60K double in February. Aravaipa doesn't have a webpage posting results for other doublers, so I figured I'd do the math myself. I copied the Ultrasignup results into spreadsheets and compared them. To my surprise, only 9 people finished the double (compared to 682 100K finishers and 323 60K finishers). I didn't check if anyone attempted to double but DNF'd both or either.</p><p>Here are the combined results in order of total finish time:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiCkJW5Kp_Vevk06b1a0derUfy05HZoUymLVjQzUuhsJRLdCQYp8B7U78-mZ9dkhOurYJNUldsyLFsqZNMqFMyaGd3TEvwYkrrffE3WNAnQf3frbsmAJ7QCmvSHa3dY_7LkY_MeXOaBxlX_Uxt0LCf2_UDk84jI9y7RyRvQZV7ywwHuYd9A8/s1195/BCDouble.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="1195" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiCkJW5Kp_Vevk06b1a0derUfy05HZoUymLVjQzUuhsJRLdCQYp8B7U78-mZ9dkhOurYJNUldsyLFsqZNMqFMyaGd3TEvwYkrrffE3WNAnQf3frbsmAJ7QCmvSHa3dY_7LkY_MeXOaBxlX_Uxt0LCf2_UDk84jI9y7RyRvQZV7ywwHuYd9A8/w640-h150/BCDouble.PNG" width="640" /></a></div> <p></p><p>Ignore the 01jan1960 part--that's just an artifact of the programming. Ratio is the sum of the two Ultrasignup ranks (the winner's time divided by your time), and place is the sum of placements.</p><p>I was 7th place out of 9. Nothing spectacularly interesting seems to have happened across the two days, other than the second place guy day one finishing fourth day two and thus third overall. Basically I'd say people were consistent.</p><p>That goes to a point I was thinking about--running the double was not hard! 100 Miles is 161 Kilometers, so all the double is is a 100-miler where you get to sleep at night. None of the 9 finishers really tanked day two, so do they all agree with me in thinking that stage races are basically not that big a deal? Are we 9 a weirdly selected sample? If not, why are there so few of us?<br /></p><p><br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-8445165289740345242023-04-08T20:58:00.007-04:002023-04-08T20:58:54.171-04:00Black Canyon 100K/60K Double<p>It's been almost two months now, but I stopped in Phoenix on my way home from DC in February and ran the Black Canyon double. The Black Canyon 100K has become a competitive early season race (it's a Western States Golden Ticket race). It's a net downhill course, and it seems like a relatively reliable way to get decent race weather in February, since it's at lower elevations not too far north of Phoenix.</p><p>I flew to Phoenix after work on Friday the 17th. I am a cheapskate and airfare and race entry fees were already expensive enough, so I rented a Prius so I could crash in the back and not pay for a hotel room. Due to the battery configuration in a Prius, the rear seats fold down perfectly flat. This seems more common in SUVs, but <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jN7mSXMruEo&list=TLPQMDgwMzIwMjP343nzflTB_A&index=5" target="_blank">SUVs are bad</a>. For fellow hikers who don't want to kill pedestrians, <a href="https://www.bogleheads.org/forum/viewtopic.php?t=316262" target="_blank">here's a good discussion</a> of other vehicles that may fit the fold-flat-seats bill. You can use Turo to rent the exact model of car you're looking for. Another perk of the Prius--a thermostat that'll run heat/AC as necessary.</p><p>Anyway, after getting my luggage and car it was already late, and my body was used to East Coast time so it felt even later and I was really regretting my decision to fly out so late on Friday. Another 45 minutes of driving across the automobile hellscape of Phoenix didn't help, but everything worked out. I pulled into the empty outlet mall parking lot where the point-to-point race's shuttle bus would pick me up early the next morning, laid the seats flat, blew up an air mattress, and was asleep within minutes. There was even a gas station yards away for last-minute toiletries. There were a couple vanlifers in the parking lot and nobody bothered us.</p><p>In the morning I moved the car onto the gravel lot a few feet away and hopped on the shuttle bus. I sat in the first seat because I get motion sick easily, but the drive was 95% on the Interstate so it probably wouldn't have mattered. Sitting toward the front did make unloading faster, which was convenient because there was not a lot of time between arrival and the start of my wave. The race has a large field, and the land managers require a staggered start. I actually think this was great--it let me sleep in a little bit longer, and it thins out the field so singletrack sections get backed up less.</p><p>One thing to note about check-in: Aravaipa was doing a lot electronically--you had to have your bib number to board the shuttle, and if you hadn't paid for that you couldn't pay cash you had to buy it online on the spot. To check-in the morning of you had to scan a QR code, find your name, and open a link. I couldn't get reception to work, but thanks to my being the second person off the bus the volunteers easily assisted me. (I think that was my $50 phone and Mint Mobile's fault; there's generally decent reception at the start line.) Also, given my just-in-time travel plans, thank God there was race-morning check-in.</p><p>Enough with my boring personal logistics, what's the actual race like? After a lap around a muddy gravel high school track, there's a paved mile or two through town, then some dirt roads, and then on to nice singletrack, and a potentially fast downhill section. Not particularly fast for me, since I'm old and out of shape, but a nice runnable section. The race was a healthy mix of trail and dirt roads, and for a non-Arizonan, there were a really fun amount of Saguaros to look at. There were a few creek crossings in pretty canyons in the latter half. </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVrDKkhKDlDe2gcKzzTxQ2C7b47cS7urlN5E3lXOhGWZwKsww6is70AE06XU1J4qZK5djppO3CsMiaLpv1tJqjGXhMOpG3jIZQJXQn0KHPMJ4_jlJZN6xkZJEADCmDXgJW0rukK8OEg86Qw0CmxaAJuiJfGguo870Id4Wi9Eub296rnoUCuw/w480-h640/2023-02-18%2012.22.35.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="480" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saguaro</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVrDKkhKDlDe2gcKzzTxQ2C7b47cS7urlN5E3lXOhGWZwKsww6is70AE06XU1J4qZK5djppO3CsMiaLpv1tJqjGXhMOpG3jIZQJXQn0KHPMJ4_jlJZN6xkZJEADCmDXgJW0rukK8OEg86Qw0CmxaAJuiJfGguo870Id4Wi9Eub296rnoUCuw/s4608/2023-02-18%2012.22.35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> <p></p><p>I finished the 100K in 15:37. I tried to fill up a little on finish line food, then rode the shuttle bus back to my car, and was asleep within minutes again. In the morning I drove to the finish line of the 60K, and got on another shuttle bus, again sitting directly behind the driver. "Hi Garret!" said the guy sitting next to me "It's M_." (In my groggy state I hadn't recognized him yet.) Two Berkeley-trained PhD economists sitting directly behind the driver for maximum unloading efficiency! I also had a nice pre-race chat with a race-photographer I know. </p><p>Anyway, then I ran the first 60K of the same course again. I finished in 10:23. I didn't feel particularly sore or even slow, since there were still runners around me and I didn't feel like I was getting passed left and right, but I did finish in the bottom 20% of runners. </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSsj8Wwzlk6nuiNPhdwaYG7b1SbsX2sjWM7uEjY0O4ASWghxmFVhAsELched3H8GzA6eBSURvAjWr94VWoj2KF8osHrOf9OtHKXJckYwohhWtbyl5ds7eoy0p5OzpNxHv4BMmj9lCBNtvUxNNOT_EFwqSC82g_NHkyzlor7diljJ0Xa4To08/s4608/2023-02-19%2008.58.59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSsj8Wwzlk6nuiNPhdwaYG7b1SbsX2sjWM7uEjY0O4ASWghxmFVhAsELched3H8GzA6eBSURvAjWr94VWoj2KF8osHrOf9OtHKXJckYwohhWtbyl5ds7eoy0p5OzpNxHv4BMmj9lCBNtvUxNNOT_EFwqSC82g_NHkyzlor7diljJ0Xa4To08/w640-h480/2023-02-19%2008.58.59.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Morning Views<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8xRLhdsxGX8le2BzVkyATCrWNv1JBhLQ1kfQw93o8DNcC7dVlLVXpzU0k-4P4yOqTBHStvq8gKt-k6b-Acv5T33t1ZaiE64W9sWoup6G_MPj41vSnmrjla3buwTru5Tfo3bOLya8VuzJCHGMR_Fn9v70QsxGEG802pbEILstsCJhdWbtENQ/s4608/2023-02-19%2014.06.26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8xRLhdsxGX8le2BzVkyATCrWNv1JBhLQ1kfQw93o8DNcC7dVlLVXpzU0k-4P4yOqTBHStvq8gKt-k6b-Acv5T33t1ZaiE64W9sWoup6G_MPj41vSnmrjla3buwTru5Tfo3bOLya8VuzJCHGMR_Fn9v70QsxGEG802pbEILstsCJhdWbtENQ/w480-h640/2023-02-19%2014.06.26.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saguaro</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0A6xp18aGT7kEc4dwg7E5rsCFpC_Q4Ku4CQ5ajGFBLKYHgTMOb5HX-fWmvkGq4_f0dVA8pBJ__r-hph1DSuwOziR-q26ZekGBP1yqHUcMhp0RvFxP52yK1Akq0Cq4SGxoEAMP5gyH8xL8VjMGpkfzcm9ywxVF9GzL1UG378gtVhtJuXbLnqU/s4608/2023-02-19%2014.38.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0A6xp18aGT7kEc4dwg7E5rsCFpC_Q4Ku4CQ5ajGFBLKYHgTMOb5HX-fWmvkGq4_f0dVA8pBJ__r-hph1DSuwOziR-q26ZekGBP1yqHUcMhp0RvFxP52yK1Akq0Cq4SGxoEAMP5gyH8xL8VjMGpkfzcm9ywxVF9GzL1UG378gtVhtJuXbLnqU/w400-h300/2023-02-19%2014.38.52.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those pretty canyons I was talking about<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p><p>At the finish line I was told the special reward for running the double was not yet available (I still haven't received anything). I availed myself of as many vegan hot dogs as possible, and then drove up to J's house in Flagstaff for some fun conversation about dogs, motorcycles, non-tenure track research jobs, thru-hiking, and all the good stuff. I joked that basically you could swap the mountain adventure-based wall decorations and books on the shelves between J and my houses and you could barely tell the difference. Holy crap, Flagstaff gets a real amount of snow, I also learned.</p><p>After hanging out in Flag a bit Monday morning (President's Day), I drove down to Sedona. Halfway into a hike I realized, wait, I've been here before--on my post CDT yo-yo roadtrip home with Marcus.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq-ugb4_p4I5u-XVZBtpjD2Sg-y6yaW5AkST3QQjGXSM26yWgS2aUXWtUcTrWGcR9oYu3zbabB4uMWUmKR70_yY7BoTsx8lQel87hRAaKtTbPRZausBBfcb1UtrapLG2i3jIP0mQYP4dy_aNPAvthOM_7PV92WGWB3lPt7As-4uUfbvc8SDo/s4608/2023-02-20%2013.32.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq-ugb4_p4I5u-XVZBtpjD2Sg-y6yaW5AkST3QQjGXSM26yWgS2aUXWtUcTrWGcR9oYu3zbabB4uMWUmKR70_yY7BoTsx8lQel87hRAaKtTbPRZausBBfcb1UtrapLG2i3jIP0mQYP4dy_aNPAvthOM_7PV92WGWB3lPt7As-4uUfbvc8SDo/w480-h640/2023-02-20%2013.32.53.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canyon in 2023<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjx7KTUBJmk0hvzLK64tNoimYnndfRN7as58LNF-TzU-sLp3X8eyJC0zvMH9GV-9bcj_Q_6MoeD84oTYoaed7KVQay0l0iAcg-hcBhvnZAc1qRKw1xABSi3apZq1Y0-uG6i9txl-00z7bJUX2JkEs5VrGZ9mX5f1ZA7lKyyRq08xPz73uBvs/s2560/DSCN0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1920" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjx7KTUBJmk0hvzLK64tNoimYnndfRN7as58LNF-TzU-sLp3X8eyJC0zvMH9GV-9bcj_Q_6MoeD84oTYoaed7KVQay0l0iAcg-hcBhvnZAc1qRKw1xABSi3apZq1Y0-uG6i9txl-00z7bJUX2JkEs5VrGZ9mX5f1ZA7lKyyRq08xPz73uBvs/w480-h640/DSCN0037.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canyon with MD in 2007<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p>So overall it was a good trip. I didn't set and landspeed records with my times, but I did feel solid for the first time since Tor, which is a big deal to me. Let real training for Western States commence!<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-55154522475360788562023-03-12T14:40:00.000-04:002023-03-12T14:40:02.162-04:00Media Consumption of Late<p>I'll get around to my Black Canyons 100K/60K Double race report eventually. Instead, here are some reviews. I'm going to go running and check out the flow on the Truckee River. Anybody want to packraft it with me? <br /></p><p>Books: <br />Destiny of the Republic, Candice Millard: A-<br />Millard writes popular history books about lesser-known aspects of popular figures--Teddy Roosevelt's post-presidency trip down the second-longest river in the Amazon, Winston Churchill's early life in the Boer War, or this: the brief presidency and assassination of James Garfield. Either Garfield was a badass anti-racism anti-corruption math-whiz devoted scholar surprise battle-winning Union general philosopher-king who had the Republican nomination forced upon him, or the book is a bit hagiographic. Either way, the book is an inspiring read/listen. A bit of post-listen googling seems to indicate he mostly was an awesome guy. The downside to the book is vivid description of the two months of Garfield's suffering from his gunshot wounds, which became infected and puss-filled thanks to idiot doctors constantly poking around with their bare fingers and unsanitized instruments.<br /><br />Sea of Tranquility, Emily St. John Mandel, B+<br />I liked Mandel's post-apocalyptic Station Eleven (the book more than the TV series), I didn't like The Glass Hotel (what was the point?), and Sea of Tranquility was a nice little sci-fi time travel novel. A Glass Hotel character makes a cameo, but it doesn't matter if you've read that or not. There's a pandemic angle, but not so much that you should be turned off by that having just come out of one in real life--it's just one of the time periods covered, and all of them have emotionally engaging characters.<br /><br />The Last White Man, Mohsin Hamid, A<br />Overnight a white man's skin turns dark, then it starts happening to more and more people. I thought of it as Naomi Alderman's The Power but for race instead of gender. A review I just saw called it Kafka's "Metamorphosis for our racially charged era" and that's apt. It's really good. This is the third book I've read by Hamid and they're all great.<br /><br />Movies:<br /><br />Cocaine Bear: B+<br />I got what I expected. If you can't enjoy 90 minutes of Elizabeth Banks or Esteemed Character Actress Margo Martindale or don't appreciate a Martindale-Matthew Rhys-Keri Russell reunion, you are probably taking yourself too seriously.<br /><br />I Love My Dad: B<br />A nice little comedy with Patton Oswalt and Rachel Dratch in which a deadbeat dad tries to reconnect with his son by catfishing him. Yep! And it's based on a true story. I think the son is the weakest link (he also wrote and directed it), but Oswalt and Dratch have some really well done lines. It was a nice reminder that Oswalt can do a good job carrying movies like this (I recommend Big Fan if you haven't seen it).<br /><br />The Post: A-<br />I'm such a cynic that I roll my eyes whenever I see a movie trailer with Tom Hanks. I mean, isn't he cheesy and aren't we sick of him yet? But then eventually I'm on an airplane and The Post/Bridge of Spies/whatever is there and it's that or a superhero movie and so I obviously choose the former and oh, duh, this guy's a great actor and the Pentagon Papers is a great story and Merryl Streep, David Cross, and Bob Odenkirk are in it too and it's a great movie and I'm just a jerk and should be less cynical.<br /><br />TV:<br /><br />Katla (Netflix): B-<br />Slow, but with nice dark and brooding Icelandic atmosphere. Dopplegangers start appearing out of the ash of a volcano in a nearly-deserted city. I saw this recommended as a followup to Netflix's Dark, but it's definitely not that good, nor that logical (if people asked the obviously logical questions, the plot wouldn't survive.) We'd often stop halfway through an episode and finish it the next day. I guess it was worth finishing--it was at least an original-ish idea.<br /><br />The Last of Us: B+<br />Zombies, with the obviously excellent Pedro Pascal and Bella Ramsey. It brings me real joy to watch something at the same time as other people, and Sunday nights on HBO is basically all that's left of that (aside from major sporting events). But am I the only one who thinks half of these episodes are too long and a tad boring? I will still be watching the finale tonight, because you know, we're living in a society!</p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-28521336403469377742023-01-12T16:59:00.003-05:002023-01-12T18:29:37.399-05:002022 in Review/Plans for 2023<p>Strava says I ran 1,934 miles in 2022. I wanted to step down a bit from my 2,650 miles in 2021, but not by that much. I got about the same vert that I usually get (300K) without really focusing on it. I was pretty happy with my running for most of the year. I set a marathon PR in December 2021 but as usual I did not really convert that into trail speed.<br /></p><p>I ran these races in 2022:</p><p>January: Calico 50K</p><p>February: Sean O'Brien 100K</p><p>February: Yucca Valley 5K <br /></p><p>April: Cherry Blossom 10-miler </p><p>June: San Diego 100-miler</p><p>July: Standhope 100-miler</p><p>September: Tor des Geants 220-miler</p><p>November: Mountain Masochist 50K (50-miler DNF)</p><p>I did fine but not great at June and July 100's, and then I did quite well at Tor. It was an amazing experience, but it took a lot out of me. So much so that I didn't run for a solid month, and then when I tried to start up again a few weeks after that, I had to downgrade from the 50-mile to the 50K at Mountain Masochist in November. (I slept very poorly the night before in my hammock at the campground and may have had the very beginning of COVID, but I think I was just tired.) Because I switched from 50-miler to 50K after the start I technically DNF'd. <br /></p><p>So a month off, a DNF, COVID, and too much travel for work, and it's now 2023.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRdLFmo9KSr_AErDqWogCLb2f3x74XObC4vDcKQFNeEiok_m3Xdj9TvQVSd2Eyt_cxgekphT8UetcTN8ik-qTUg4zQkGLaxBDkGFqMKM6YCSE2gX0g4Kn7hXuEiL03Rc5i5iBYPPKFYFl5R5Q1KU6VQTKRfffAh-Y7s3q1qJvbv7rPuqfAkY/s2304/2023-01-01%2009.29.08.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRdLFmo9KSr_AErDqWogCLb2f3x74XObC4vDcKQFNeEiok_m3Xdj9TvQVSd2Eyt_cxgekphT8UetcTN8ik-qTUg4zQkGLaxBDkGFqMKM6YCSE2gX0g4Kn7hXuEiL03Rc5i5iBYPPKFYFl5R5Q1KU6VQTKRfffAh-Y7s3q1qJvbv7rPuqfAkY/w640-h480/2023-01-01%2009.29.08.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">January 1 Reno Resolution Run<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> <br /></p><p>Here's the plan for 2023:</p><p>February 18-19: Black Canyon 100K/60K double (Arizona)<br /></p><p>March/April: Something in the woods in Tennessee (probably, I'm waitlisted)</p><p>May 6: Wild Wild West 50 Miler (Lone Pine, CA)</p><p>May 27-29: Western States Training Camp</p><p>June 24-25: Western States 100-miler (Sub-24 or bust! This is the highlight and my absolute focus.)<br /></p><p>July 28-29: Crazy Mountains 100-miler (Montana--probably, I'm waitlisted)</p><p>August and September: I don't know yet. I need something else. Should I put in for the Superior lottery? Go back to Kodiak and do the full 100 miles? Dark Divide? Teenaway?<br /></p><p>Oct 8: Chicago Marathon </p><p></p>October 14: Euchre Bar Massacre <p></p><p>By this point of the year I will almost certainly be tired of traveling, and if I run anything else it will probably depend on where I'm based at that time, which depends on how union negotiations over remote work. (If I'm reading the tea leaves correctly, I'd guess I should be looking for races out east.) </p><p><span></span></p><a name='more'></a>What are you running in 2023, and how can I convince you to do one of these with me? Most importantly, to all my Californian friends, where will you be from 3AM to 4AM on Sunday June 25? If you said the Placer High track in Auburn cheering my to a sub-24 hour finish at Western States, that's the right answer.<br /><p><br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-18285908140676651952022-10-15T21:11:00.004-04:002022-10-15T21:11:44.485-04:00Tor des Géants 2022<p>I started this blog post on my futon in Washington, DC coughing uncontrollably with a bad cold. (Remember colds?) That night was the first night of non-disgusting, non-bedsheet-soaking levels of sweatiness. Why was this happening to me? The prior Thursday night just before midnight I finished the Tor des Géants Tor 330 race: a 356 Kilometer (220 mile) race through the Italian Alps starting and ending in Courmayeur circumnavigating the Aosta Valley, with 80,000 feet of vertical gain. Why is it called Tor 330 when it's clearly 350+ Kilometers, even on the race's own maps? That is just one of dozens of quirks of the Italian-run race, some of which come off as truly obnoxious, some of which instead come off as magical. I finished in 109:49:19, in 102nd place overall (of over 1,000 starters) , and 4th American (of not very many). It's the hardest race I've ever run, and one of my best performances.</p><p>What does "hard" mean? I only finished one loop at Barkley, and I've never made it past the 6-hills (of 8) cutoff at the Euchre Bar Massacre. I suppose those races might be harder, seeing as I can't finish them, but it's hard to compare a race with tight cutoffs where I'm not allowed to keep going after fewer than ~24 hours to a race that took me 4.5 days, and despite being in the same ballpark of steepness insanity, it's hard not to get a little rest when you're lost or navigating or searching for a decent way through dense brush, which isn't something you have to do at Tor.</p><p><b>Pre-Race</b></p><p>I flew to DC and spent ~36 hours at my house there, basically just to drop off my work computer, since I'm not allowed to take it out of the country. I flew to Geneva and immediately took trains to Saint-Gervais-les-Bains, France, where my cousin's family has a small chalet. Me being me, I hiked up the mountain from the train station with my full luggage rather than taking a taxi, which took a few hours and a lot of sweat, but the views were incredible. I spent two nights there, then hiked over the mountain (Le Prarion) to Les Houches and caught a bus to Chamonix. I walked around Chamonix for the day, and the pedestrian-friendly plaza filled me with despair over the United States' abysmal and dangerous auto-centric public spaces. Also, how in the hell did <a href="https://fastestknowntime.com/fkt/kilian-jornet-mont-blanc-france-2013-06-11" target="_blank">Kilian Jornet run to the top of Mt Blanc</a> and back in under 5 hours?! (Mt Blanc looms immensely over Les Houches and Cham.) </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrBbyTUp7JAnEYLvifF76skFENveTfAUjzcybDtBEdlK79AkB5b2gutpXojPn60VmWwoPy4OmuLKdm77zbMDFhxBlEphRKCvq6uBhgzMh6pnaDuvEeqMWYWXp-9_s6jbNZnVsIAS_XX19aJqjPKsQLK2nEk6bw3kW1IUN7PQ0lFwGahgDUik/s4608/2022-09-06%2012.30.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrBbyTUp7JAnEYLvifF76skFENveTfAUjzcybDtBEdlK79AkB5b2gutpXojPn60VmWwoPy4OmuLKdm77zbMDFhxBlEphRKCvq6uBhgzMh6pnaDuvEeqMWYWXp-9_s6jbNZnVsIAS_XX19aJqjPKsQLK2nEk6bw3kW1IUN7PQ0lFwGahgDUik/s320/2022-09-06%2012.30.19.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chalet</td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxVNAluQyfPExQ5aAfrceMAI0jjYB1QF-w5-jt5xwO1oJhZXUfKmUar451SR70EnvB4iPwZyOFdP0rhSUoT1SBussECAXPA8jhQ7jjncyMNiANAWgdJUeVcNvyxtlPPRexwIwXe8zPblXPAPyTGAE-h5TLyue5muzXSvB-76t86RFKYSmKfg/s4608/2022-09-08%2016.28.57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxVNAluQyfPExQ5aAfrceMAI0jjYB1QF-w5-jt5xwO1oJhZXUfKmUar451SR70EnvB4iPwZyOFdP0rhSUoT1SBussECAXPA8jhQ7jjncyMNiANAWgdJUeVcNvyxtlPPRexwIwXe8zPblXPAPyTGAE-h5TLyue5muzXSvB-76t86RFKYSmKfg/s320/2022-09-08%2016.28.57.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chamonix</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p><p>I took another bus through the tunnel from Chamonix to Courmayeur, Italy. I briefly looked into taking the gondolas over the mountain, but I'm not sure the full set of lifts was running, and even if they were, it apparently costs hundreds of dollars. I believe the bus was $7. (Also worth noting: the Dollar/Euro exchange rate is fantastic right now, basically 1:1, which made looking at condo listings in real estate office windows an enjoyable distraction.)</p><p>Tor is based in Courmayeur, the first village outside the tunnel on the Italian side of Mt. Blanc. I arrived there Friday afternoon. The new, longest, unmarked course version of Tor, the 450Km Tor des Glaciers began that evening. I almost immediately ran into another American I know from the Bay Area, Suzanna; her non-runner husband Sam and I had a great time talking about wine (economist's predictions for Bordeaux wine vintages: Quality of Wine = 0.240 * Age of Vintage + 0.608 * Average Temperatures during the April to September Growing Season -0.00380 * Total August Precipitation + 0.00115 * Total Precipitation during the preceding winter (October to March) + 0.00765 * September Average Temperatures, "natural" wine is often bad and tastes like kombucha, and Robert Parker is silly). </p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhB_jamO-TVYGz_ROxAeKmCZ6AVuqV42infV6LjeE1EJRFn0NqgHNUExLu43BxHsX1RwtGHQacGHoWroGypFQAjFF7v0m-wI9Ru4zTFvoAW7jTU8GSSCgGPGqQJwFuHr1Xc-5S9EFz99i0TwHbN33yNqCgLqfq2mvvYYZ7-7hCgaPMi2W2lU/s4608/2022-09-09%2019.34.47.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhB_jamO-TVYGz_ROxAeKmCZ6AVuqV42infV6LjeE1EJRFn0NqgHNUExLu43BxHsX1RwtGHQacGHoWroGypFQAjFF7v0m-wI9Ru4zTFvoAW7jTU8GSSCgGPGqQJwFuHr1Xc-5S9EFz99i0TwHbN33yNqCgLqfq2mvvYYZ7-7hCgaPMi2W2lU/s320/2022-09-09%2019.34.47.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of cheese</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEs4FnTkE_ZAiAhvDg-LwRrepjyupX5D2mP905hUmd2RcHo0EhTuUFbluqXtUXkzf93SL0LKqkTP4Q1A0Qd9_uI2IX9ilIJRrkRSchIey14iq4J0gyYH-e0xg0BsX18GeqbOStCD6ESsvjKFQADYm-TAuBEesDQu0SeWSZ-2qzZw4uhCCoIM/s4608/2022-09-09%2017.37.58.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEs4FnTkE_ZAiAhvDg-LwRrepjyupX5D2mP905hUmd2RcHo0EhTuUFbluqXtUXkzf93SL0LKqkTP4Q1A0Qd9_uI2IX9ilIJRrkRSchIey14iq4J0gyYH-e0xg0BsX18GeqbOStCD6ESsvjKFQADYm-TAuBEesDQu0SeWSZ-2qzZw4uhCCoIM/s320/2022-09-09%2017.37.58.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courmayeur</td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>Saturday was check-in day at the local sports center. I asked some random question of one of the few other mask-wearing runners; he turned out to be Jack from the East Bay (Kensington). I also ran into several other Americans I knew: Tod from Montana and Nick from DC. I momentarily got worried because I was told yet another thing about race management solely through word of mouth instead of by e-mail from race management: I'd need a <span> €</span>50 note, and not just 20-20-10 or some other combination, as deposit for the GPS tracking unit. This was apparently written somewhere in the race documentation that I hadn't read (and hadn't been told I'd need to read.) However, it turned out not to be true: there was no GPS tracking at this year's race, just RFID chip tracking at aid stations.</p><p>This raises the largest pre-race issue with Tor: the website is bad and pre-race communication is nearly non-existent. I honestly would not have been shocked had I been told race morning that I wasn't even registered. I believe I received two one-sentence e-mails from them: one saying I had been selected in the lottery (but this was before paying for the slot, so after paying, when I received no confirmation other than nothing that <span> €990 had left my bank account, I still felt some uncertainty whether registration had gone according to plan) and the second (that I think might have gone to spam) saying that I would be starting in wave 1. The website gave false indication of accepting my credit card but ultimately rejected multiple cards only to finally accept my bank card, which added to the confusion. Only by chatting with friends with experience did I learn that I needed to have a doctor sign off on participation and upload it by August 1. These things were described in a <a href="https://torxtrail.com/en/content/regulations-torx-2022" target="_blank">regulations document</a>, but I swear it changed without notice, and it didn't include standard things a US race would include: crew instructions, lodging suggestions, or a useful PDF map. They did have an elevation profile (the shittiness of which made me progressively angrier during the race--it's clearly made from a spreadsheet of high and low points, not from a GPX track, so it deludes you into thinking sections with repeated up and down would be much easier than they actually were) and a GPX track (which was excellent). The longer Tor des Glaciers, which has far fewer participants, did have a <a href="https://torxtrail.com/system/files_force/uploads/2022%20GUIDA%20GLACIERS%20web.pdf?download=1" target="_blank">roadbook</a> on the website, the likes of which would have been much appreciated.</span></p><p><span>Other things I wouldn't have known if it weren't for friends: instead of drop bags, you get one follow-bag. Everyone gets the same size bag at registration, and it follows you around the course and meets you at every life base (a bigger aid station roughly every 50K where you can sleep on cots, get a massage or your blisters worked on, and eat). </span></p><p><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxxNiNQZITbPjx-BZVEipwJa1LuLYOGkVe_n5DuQTVZ-XMkTrfjpzYgCzet-ToZWumgd22ZZ1vR8gFvJKLT6xqkOQalyLobVGMnKGODepefbHntnMDUmEYay4C9gQ5TfzQv9O-s191tq2D5Vp5KE1vSs_pLi81ri73kPzUsGig02kO4Uev1k/s4608/2022-09-10%2013.50.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxxNiNQZITbPjx-BZVEipwJa1LuLYOGkVe_n5DuQTVZ-XMkTrfjpzYgCzet-ToZWumgd22ZZ1vR8gFvJKLT6xqkOQalyLobVGMnKGODepefbHntnMDUmEYay4C9gQ5TfzQv9O-s191tq2D5Vp5KE1vSs_pLi81ri73kPzUsGig02kO4Uev1k/w300-h400/2022-09-10%2013.50.31.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div><span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1zHjTHmjuZRzJ-vn-CkDbW8LeOKXDMfcd9YEJEQv_giumS5kdw3_JifWWPtyFhvom6K7VE4HUZ6bkDEkFv7sPFueb4UonrJhfrSPmxuG1D8FryFCASerJqb6vHqGozJczWws9KOTVK9wlWHzJGY9BUc0JC78JoQce3oActjG4-jzmdh9U40/s4608/2022-09-10%2016.37.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1zHjTHmjuZRzJ-vn-CkDbW8LeOKXDMfcd9YEJEQv_giumS5kdw3_JifWWPtyFhvom6K7VE4HUZ6bkDEkFv7sPFueb4UonrJhfrSPmxuG1D8FryFCASerJqb6vHqGozJczWws9KOTVK9wlWHzJGY9BUc0JC78JoQce3oActjG4-jzmdh9U40/s320/2022-09-10%2016.37.29.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gear</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrdI2cEX2tYuosmw8RTjIsKSYQDROy9PkFrKbC6Qvqe2L05xMIGlPPFhTPQjV4TNgklzVN9Dy4o_wN5gGor_T0xojts-VoN7CW7uBUYf20_Vlm1SGcclub_RnbG4R148QKY3-Os3Q8Wf8tNgnrm-vAH2D-eGUerpHtNLe24rFPxBxWSMh8c4/s4608/2022-09-10%2017.12.18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrdI2cEX2tYuosmw8RTjIsKSYQDROy9PkFrKbC6Qvqe2L05xMIGlPPFhTPQjV4TNgklzVN9Dy4o_wN5gGor_T0xojts-VoN7CW7uBUYf20_Vlm1SGcclub_RnbG4R148QKY3-Os3Q8Wf8tNgnrm-vAH2D-eGUerpHtNLe24rFPxBxWSMh8c4/s320/2022-09-10%2017.12.18.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running pack and follow bag<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span><p></p><p><span>Friends said things about specific locations in the race, but I completely ignored this. I don't speak any of the romance languages; Italian village names go in one ear and out the other, and the Aosta Valley is right next to France, so I feel like there's a lot of French influence, and the whole not pronouncing a random half of letters at the end of the word throws me off. (Fine, maybe I'm a dumb American, or maybe it's just bad luck that my weird combination of speaking English, Korean, and a little German isn't very helpful at Tor.) I was also just really busy and stressed before the race, so it was all I could do to train for the race, with no extra time to read about it and plan for it. <a href="https://www.govexec.com/workforce/2022/09/fdic-already-reneging-new-telework-agreement-union-says/377343/" target="_blank">Senior management at work is threatening my ability to work remotely</a> AKA my ability to live with my family, which in my opinion is a brazen violation of a plain English reading of our collective bargaining agreement and the "Home-based option." We moved to Reno for Amy's new job, I stayed behind in Yucca Valley for the movers to pack up and then to re-furnish the house as a short-term rental. I had to make trips back and forth to turn in my permit application in person, and all that time spent there wasn't great for training because it's too damn hot in the summer. So I've been stressed!</span></p><p><span>Whatever. I ran a 100-miler in June and another in July, I had a GPX track of the course on my phone, and I remembered to get my continental European plug adapter from my place in DC, so I was ready. It's a loop. How hard can it be? OK, it can probably be <i>very</i> hard, but how <i>complicated</i> could it be? I packed my follow-bag, talked to more Bay Area people (Mat, Mo, Mike) and went to the pre-race briefing. I don't think I've ever been to a pre-race briefing that conveyed any useful information, and Tor was no exception, especially because it was in Italian and only kinda-sorta-not-really translated into English. I went because there was free dinner. After two friends were downed in their main summer race (Hardrock and PTL) by COVID, I was nervous. I may have been the only person in an auditorium of nearly 1,000 people wearing a mask, so I kept hanging out in the back by the only open door. The food was decent and I met a cool Norwegian who introduced herself as "the only Heidi in the race" and we had a nice chat. The meal was only served at the end of the meeting, so I got back to my hotel later than I would have liked, but it wasn't a super early start so it wasn't that big a deal. <br /></span></p><p><span><b>Why?</b></span></p><p><span>My friend Lucas Horan ran Tor in 2018 and 2019. I'd already moved away from the Bay Area by the time he ran it, but I remember him telling me I should sign up with him both times. In typical Lucas fashion I'm not sure I got a lot of advance notice, but afterwards he was full of tales about how gorgeous the mountains were and how friendly the people were. It was clear he loved the race. Lucas died unexpectedly at the end of 2020, and since then his parents and friends have raised money for a "<a href="https://lucashoran.com/tor-de-lucas" target="_blank">Tor de Lucas</a>" scholarship for one person each year to go run in his honor. I didn't apply, but I did want to run the race in his honor. I met Lucas' mom Jan for the first time just before the pre-race briefing.<b> <br /></b></span></p><p><span><b>Race Start: Sunday Morning</b></span></p><p><span>I took my bag over to the sports center, ate breakfast, checked out of my hotel, and walked to the start line. I saw Jack and Mike, but I wanted to be closer to the start line to avoid more of the inevitable conga line on the first climb. I was in the first wave of starters at 10AM, a fairly civilized race start time. I ran an 8:19 mile out of the gate on city streets, but I knew that I'd be in a line no matter what, so I didn't really push it that hard. I fell into line and just tried to keep a strong hiking pace without stopping. I made it to the top without a pause, but I was definitely already sucking wind and sweating like a hog. Apparently switchbacks aren't a thing in the Alps. Did you know that? Apparently humidity <i>is </i>a thing in the Alps. Did you know that? I only learned these facts when I was carrying luggage up to my cousin's chalet a couple day prior, but facts they remain. It's not eastern US-level humidity, but it's noticeable. The near total absence of switchbacks is also immediately noticeable. </span></p><p><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuIdRaRUbc2pYqTfhX2W3nSFXs-N0X72Alp_TSUwHvysmhnVGgGqakFxOBsbEXJMRuMM0aTKlXk6bQsNlm6tMG_k7JFNR6jCNTelV43DS2IvNiGGBg-f0sukKVzxIPyadt8ZxKCNm98MExdaqlISkDXaQiT6yljnWOpqjjRPhjqfUrTgPmmU/s2304/2022-09-11%2009.32.23.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuIdRaRUbc2pYqTfhX2W3nSFXs-N0X72Alp_TSUwHvysmhnVGgGqakFxOBsbEXJMRuMM0aTKlXk6bQsNlm6tMG_k7JFNR6jCNTelV43DS2IvNiGGBg-f0sukKVzxIPyadt8ZxKCNm98MExdaqlISkDXaQiT6yljnWOpqjjRPhjqfUrTgPmmU/s320/2022-09-11%2009.32.23.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the Start<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGydPJ3jpnP7B8Z2PKYiRGkKfq83t4ZviAob4DHi7BMDoR8CvOnkjXkeLFY7khACjBnA0AxgaC3e0O8LfGDv_tE3Jrbhmko_Go67lgS8VUfxwvDDXTwRX3dE5TGO9f8kFA5sghpOxou1ELmf3gjqgJmTwJhgTjN8PNwJ2sxylDQMgzdgk_VnE/s4608/2022-09-11%2009.41.21-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGydPJ3jpnP7B8Z2PKYiRGkKfq83t4ZviAob4DHi7BMDoR8CvOnkjXkeLFY7khACjBnA0AxgaC3e0O8LfGDv_tE3Jrbhmko_Go67lgS8VUfxwvDDXTwRX3dE5TGO9f8kFA5sghpOxou1ELmf3gjqgJmTwJhgTjN8PNwJ2sxylDQMgzdgk_VnE/s320/2022-09-11%2009.41.21-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">East Bay Hardcore<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><span> <br /></span></p><p><span>On the way down from the first climb I was passed by another American I'd met from Washington state. I asked if there was anything noteworthy in the next few climbs. He mentioned that the third one was "a little sketch, a little puckery" so I had that to look forward to. Other than, you just had to keep going. </span></p><p><span>The long climb was followed by a run through a village to an aid station. I saw the spread and was impressed; I dipped bread into soup broth and calmed my stomach. Little did I know that what I saw in the first aid station was almost without fail the same food I'd see at every other aid station. "That's weird, they only have Coke and water. They'll have something else at the next one though, right?"</span></p><p><span> Nope! The second climb was in a national park (I think), and aside from getting passed a fair amount and a massive amount of sheep shitting in the lake near the top, I don't remember much. It may have been at this point that, right near the summit, I saw Jack, Mike, and Suzanna. My stomach was bothering me, but I didn't feel like I took a lot of time at the aid station--I met another person from the US but they introduced themself with something stereotypically macho, so I quickly moved on. There was a more substantive aid station on the descent where I deliberately sat and ate three or four bowls of soup with crushed up saltines, calming my stomach immensely. By the next time I could check, Jack, Mike, and Suzanna were up to an hour ahead of me, and I assumed I'd never see them again.</span></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCWRP-Yc73Z2wzPd9twuM7AKlnqS_8sDOOEYpAjxEdg0NOYg8L7HuK_ljIvOqv1RElCBn9AGD5eLQNOEDVwCdW1mQSV1TwtbiT2zeaf9xpQqA1Gx-qwE9CQEmyN0RqkUqn_1gCqQ0ttImPZFqM9IwXUrw4RfyF2Ot6ripQdpnvEYzHoupBwk/s2304/2022-09-11%2015.39.50.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCWRP-Yc73Z2wzPd9twuM7AKlnqS_8sDOOEYpAjxEdg0NOYg8L7HuK_ljIvOqv1RElCBn9AGD5eLQNOEDVwCdW1mQSV1TwtbiT2zeaf9xpQqA1Gx-qwE9CQEmyN0RqkUqn_1gCqQ0ttImPZFqM9IwXUrw4RfyF2Ot6ripQdpnvEYzHoupBwk/s320/2022-09-11%2015.39.50.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second climb, Ugh. Suz, Jack, Mike behind<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIx0MmOv0iW1S69LWPQuVwkfWqvmOObt18oBXuNzJZGBiya1dMcl8XimeFsXnuPY-Z2c6aH2JF72ybPYY4P5jxcPVPHVO7BF89cfXq3SKsVWqq3xaEBUZ1h373ogIZ-JMALoczRPAcnPp4W8AXMxdehooTg-ODq9WNiWa41KVTT3RvlQbPPQ/s4608/2022-09-11%2016.40.59.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIx0MmOv0iW1S69LWPQuVwkfWqvmOObt18oBXuNzJZGBiya1dMcl8XimeFsXnuPY-Z2c6aH2JF72ybPYY4P5jxcPVPHVO7BF89cfXq3SKsVWqq3xaEBUZ1h373ogIZ-JMALoczRPAcnPp4W8AXMxdehooTg-ODq9WNiWa41KVTT3RvlQbPPQ/s320/2022-09-11%2016.40.59.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3nL1ZpOefLpXAA1hehY-uDPSgmIWJbAfOHYvtIqLZNWIj748WzCbyAJj0whl9vysPuq31rFrQPrN-yv7-5VviPNRtqN5mhB8LBFydtbb2H_5FN10HOeaNKzzUeOJH8bZB_WSrclrYuxKh1faChPfJU6cc2BaK3I8WbCcUtEZClilhiM_kPV4/s2304/2022-09-11%2011.59.09.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3nL1ZpOefLpXAA1hehY-uDPSgmIWJbAfOHYvtIqLZNWIj748WzCbyAJj0whl9vysPuq31rFrQPrN-yv7-5VviPNRtqN5mhB8LBFydtbb2H_5FN10HOeaNKzzUeOJH8bZB_WSrclrYuxKh1faChPfJU6cc2BaK3I8WbCcUtEZClilhiM_kPV4/s320/2022-09-11%2011.59.09.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Climb, whoof. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span> </span></p><p><span>I did the third climb (the puckery one) as the end of the day. It was cold enough at the top that I had to stop and put on a long-sleeved shirt, but otherwise it wasn't all that bad. Just a few fixed ropes bolted into the rocks that seemed helpful but not absolutely necessary. (Nothing on the Tor course requires clipping in with an actual <i>via ferrata</i> climbing harness, but there are maybe a half dozen fixed rope sections. I assume they're all permanent for the pre-established hiking trails, not set up just for the race.)</span></p><p><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTCstGlmHvNGjafcuONLzubNR36jBs9JR2FkdR-jNS-st8s7JWvDXE3EGjG8iDoOw9ls5FfCajzTKWd4bs4y1goA7JjrmPm1Lfyc6osdjtD2hp2puwpqifPtEGeBybE8we8D7wBVRjP2topdPFrxpgBEvR_MluiWQ6VbAdol2i1vk5ysPk0U/s4608/2022-09-11%2018.45.49.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTCstGlmHvNGjafcuONLzubNR36jBs9JR2FkdR-jNS-st8s7JWvDXE3EGjG8iDoOw9ls5FfCajzTKWd4bs4y1goA7JjrmPm1Lfyc6osdjtD2hp2puwpqifPtEGeBybE8we8D7wBVRjP2topdPFrxpgBEvR_MluiWQ6VbAdol2i1vk5ysPk0U/w400-h300/2022-09-11%2018.45.49.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climb 3, a little puckery<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><span> <br /></span></p><p><span>A long descent ensued, and eventually I got to the aid station at the bottom (Planaval at 48Km?). I think when my stomach problems kicked in I'd texted Jan at some point and asked for regular old potato chips. She was there with a large bag of the closest rural Italy had to offer. She also got me a Sprite from the bar nearby. It tastes remarkably different in Europe (real lemon and lime?) but it helped to settle my stomach. Then came the first life base, Volgrisenche at 54Km. I'd always planned to skip this first life base, so I tried not to spend much time there. I just grabbed my more substantive light belt (I'd been working with ultralight headlamps up till now), packed myself a small to-go bag of the potato chips Jan gave me, and headed out. </span></p><p><span>I don't remember anything about the climb out of Volgrisenche, because the descent down to Rhemes-Notre-Dame after the climb was so memorable. The crowd of runners was still quite thick, and the string of headlamps laid out in front of me descending the mountain was and absurd and beautiful. The switchbacks were so tight and numerous, and from the very top of the pass you could see an equal and opposite display of runners across the valley re-gaining the thousands of feet I still needed to lose. It felt very much like you could reach out and touch them across a 3,000 foot deep but couple feet-wide chasm. </span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCNWRKtKIjIlVvmbmq5FnLZH2W-WUxEnPEzwStgwgg50FN_74kHa0H4JxJdVhYLNEO90FzK--PirDUqNKZaYOQvsAWLha0S1ei7G0F73eBo-Go7hpKhGTK8o8_TDLIcT5KWz5fDTD0ocEzY8vOLB8eYZ_HRxBHFcQVbvELL64x3nvFvCig8M/s691/descent.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="691" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCNWRKtKIjIlVvmbmq5FnLZH2W-WUxEnPEzwStgwgg50FN_74kHa0H4JxJdVhYLNEO90FzK--PirDUqNKZaYOQvsAWLha0S1ei7G0F73eBo-Go7hpKhGTK8o8_TDLIcT5KWz5fDTD0ocEzY8vOLB8eYZ_HRxBHFcQVbvELL64x3nvFvCig8M/s320/descent.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Switchbacks down to Rhemes-Notre-Dame<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span>I'm pretty sure I struck up a conversation with James, an Irishman living in England, on the the final stretch of the descent into Rhemes-Notre-Dame. When we got to the aid station at 69Km, I looked at my phone and saw that I was less than 20 minutes ahead of Tod, the friend from Montana. Then I looked up, and he was standing right next to me at the aid station, pounding fruit and whatever other offerings at the aid station were vegan (slim pickings). The 15 or 20 minutes was maybe how much earlier I'd gotten to the aid station? I can't quite remember. <br /></span><p></p><p><span><b>Side note for programmers/algorithm people</b> <br /></span></p><p><span>This raises the point that I was frequently looking at live tracking on my phone during the race--it did not always load very well (even for friends following along at home) but more often than not I managed to bookmark other Americans and check my position in relation to them and my rank in the entire field on the fly. Additionally, there were two waves of starters, one at 10AM and one at Noon. Tod was in wave 2; I was in wave 1; he caught me after roughly 14 hours, so early on he was crushing it (or I wasn't). We would enter aid stations essentially at the same time, and Tod would of course be given a higher placement than I was, but what's the algorithm that is used to calculate the live placement of runners in a multi-wave start? We discussed starting from the wave 1 starters and ranking them based on their times at prior aid stations that wave 2 people had also been to, and starting with wave 2 starters ... anyway, our sleep-deprived brains couldn't come up with a best way to do it. I concluded there's no perfect way to do it, since the answer is actually not determined until two hours after each wave 1 starter crosses the finish line, but I'm curious how tracking websites estimate places in practice.</span></p><p><span>Tod and I started off together. He got a little ahead of me, but then I caught up. He barfed, so I got a little ahead of him. He caught up, then passed me. The night climb was long. </span></p><p><span><b>Day 2-Monday</b></span></p><p><span>Somehow I caught up to Tod again. I walked into the aid station at Eaux Rosses at Km 85, a hot cramped tent with dozens of runners at picnic tables trying to rest their heads on their arms and sleep. I immediately walked out, put on all my spare clothes, and laid down in a small grassy area beside the tent and took a dirt nap. I slept for 30 minutes and woke up when I got cold. Exactly what I'd hoped for. I left the aid station and found myself on the climb up to the high point of the race. Col Luson is the only point over 3,000 meters. (~3,200 meters or 10,500 feet). To me that doesn't feel that high compared to Sierra or Colorado summits, but I was definitely struggling on the climbs. I told myself that peaks at northern latitudes have thinner air at a given elevation and my positively equatorial California climbs were full of think and juicy air compared to these rarified polar European peaks. (Apparently this is <a href="http://www.cohp.org/ak/notes/pressure_altitude_simplified.html" target="_blank">true to some degree</a> but temperature is what really makes the difference rather than latitude? At the time it made me feel like less of a weakling, so mission accomplished.) </span></p><p><span>An Asian woman in the race passed me looking annoyingly spry. An Italian couple just out for the day passed everyone looking annoyingly spry. A platinum blonde woman in pink "No Pain No Gain" socks passed me looking annoyingly spry, but then she would angrily plop down by the side of the trail and rest until I passed her. A Spanish man passed me, and he didn't say anything when he wanted to pass, he would just grunt. I wasn't in a good mood. I got out my earbuds for the first (and only) time and tried to listen to a podcast. Immediately the normally innocuous sound of NPR's <i>Planet Money</i> podcast felt like a physical assault, and I turned it off after less than two minutes. </span></p><p><span>I finally climbed over the pass and had a little bit of tea at the tiny helicoptered-in emergency aid station just over the summit. The descent was not awesome, and I barfed multiple times on the descent. Normal Italians just getting after it out in the mountains were concerned, but we couldn't communicate and there was nothing to do but keep going. </span></p><p><span> </span></p><p><span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18c2lkfYPnYEhAFtWxPsqxWkw2VLx7ZBnuOOe6kCTmpcdvtAMDhSw-WA1bPlgIwQLIr7F7EFWRGjCmJtqYz_16eE4ihtHOroHdeMVOeUS_YjiLkE2s3WigyfQsZxhy-CYkleDtNwpY6rZzJy17suO036SmEa08yJvzUoKufsqVC9p1BcXl58/s4608/2022-09-12%2011.44.51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18c2lkfYPnYEhAFtWxPsqxWkw2VLx7ZBnuOOe6kCTmpcdvtAMDhSw-WA1bPlgIwQLIr7F7EFWRGjCmJtqYz_16eE4ihtHOroHdeMVOeUS_YjiLkE2s3WigyfQsZxhy-CYkleDtNwpY6rZzJy17suO036SmEa08yJvzUoKufsqVC9p1BcXl58/w300-h400/2022-09-12%2011.44.51.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The high point<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLtSMZkq9S4PnhmVhr-4MuipEhxeRBSfhywkq9OMJ_rrmSnCfNrX_QQJWkZ47DJZWI_iNYbKcAL2e2HFWNn0-tGTpfAe0Ko_Xng2Q3oUq-e7o2c74fOM-GsfVFb1xd_aPL-i2r6V1Nj8wzxDpcSLbOzWwBAGQmRQQyR1uCd3Ta1Lnmf73QHA/s4608/2022-09-12%2011.45.48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLtSMZkq9S4PnhmVhr-4MuipEhxeRBSfhywkq9OMJ_rrmSnCfNrX_QQJWkZ47DJZWI_iNYbKcAL2e2HFWNn0-tGTpfAe0Ko_Xng2Q3oUq-e7o2c74fOM-GsfVFb1xd_aPL-i2r6V1Nj8wzxDpcSLbOzWwBAGQmRQQyR1uCd3Ta1Lnmf73QHA/w640-h480/2022-09-12%2011.45.48.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The views are spectacular<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> </span></p><p><span>The course passes Rifugio Vittorio Sella on the descent at Km 102. My stomach was not happy with the pasta they had (no soup broth this time, just a very bland tomato sauce). I don't recall ever having beer or alcohol in an ultra before, but I happily bought one from the rifugio bar. "Calories! I know how to drink this!" I wasn't trying to be snobby about it, but I didn't really like the taste. It stayed down, but I don't think my stomach appreciated the carbonation. The long descent continued, with big granite steps giving way to a long hot paved stretch, and I finally reached the second life base at Cogne, 110Km around 2 or 3 PM. </span></p><p><span>And there was Tod! I thought he was long gone, but he'd tried to sleep there, unsuccessfully. I didn't need sleep, I just wanted to sort through my gear, charge my watch, switch out lights, eat, rinse off in the sink, and brush my teeth. We headed out together, and to my surprise, I saw Jack and another American who'd passed me earlier, sitting in the parking lot, about to quit. What?! We're fine! It's day two, you could sleep for eight hours right now and still finish fine. But they just weren't feeling it. Jack had just taken a new job and said he wasn't sure he could afford the devastation that the race brings to your body for weeks after. And neither of them felt like they had anything to prove. "You need to finish just so you never have to come back," I said, which is how I feel about Massanutten, Plain, Grindstone, and probably others. "That's how we felt last year, when we both finished." </span></p><p><span>Oh, sorry guys. I got nothing for you then. They did both quit there. I saw Jack later and he seemed happy with his decision.</span></p><p><span>Tod and I took off. As soon as we left Cogne the race field thinned out considerably. We only saw five or so other runners on the next climb compared to seeing dozens on every other stretch thus far. This climb started out hot, so I was stopping to lube up repeatedly, but it cooled off eventually and the climb was much mellower than previous ones. Power transmission lines even went over this pass, which didn't seem feasible previously. Sunset on the way to the pass was beautiful. We descended in the dark and were momentarily confused when we stopped at the next rifugio and no one greeted us. Turns out, that rifugio was only an aid station for Tor des Glaciers, and our rifugio was another three K down the mountain. Aside from the owner smoking a cigar inside in a cramped space, I was happy to reach it and down several more bowls of pasta in vegetable broth with crushed up saltines. I might have killed for something other than water or Coke to drink though. There was occasionally an unfamiliar sports drink, but it was usually mixed very weakly, so if it was flavored, it didn't seem like more than "essence of glucose."</span></p><p><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp9ieM3b2tCy7V141_uQ22C5vKMrso_W2AuFd3-jvLP_D0ghVNNGfSquo2eBeSpAjSJhxUnIBgGlV8-kal0C7l_hkzzaPJok7VAlb8fOX4I9-yDc2ixHUzjvNTtf2sAAr7Zd-Ot2CLm1eFokgLL5t65SXRNNwzjDqq2IYlIRF89_ce3cQxOjM/s4608/2022-09-12%2019.42.32.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp9ieM3b2tCy7V141_uQ22C5vKMrso_W2AuFd3-jvLP_D0ghVNNGfSquo2eBeSpAjSJhxUnIBgGlV8-kal0C7l_hkzzaPJok7VAlb8fOX4I9-yDc2ixHUzjvNTtf2sAAr7Zd-Ot2CLm1eFokgLL5t65SXRNNwzjDqq2IYlIRF89_ce3cQxOjM/w400-h300/2022-09-12%2019.42.32.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2MlHFjnKehLk3jcUubTFuG7CIUTTAGWzLWTK54jYik1GKpINqEsqIq0DOWwluI_KwXx8J5kMto6RFd5SewUExTWPX17A1DOphEkfM_XSjB0AC7dRz4hqHrAHjfQOoUrycYk2HbmE_a0m_34VKLcJBeTpE6F6VmqY4gMuY6a1tPDGResgL1M/s4608/2022-09-12%2019.54.47.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2MlHFjnKehLk3jcUubTFuG7CIUTTAGWzLWTK54jYik1GKpINqEsqIq0DOWwluI_KwXx8J5kMto6RFd5SewUExTWPX17A1DOphEkfM_XSjB0AC7dRz4hqHrAHjfQOoUrycYk2HbmE_a0m_34VKLcJBeTpE6F6VmqY4gMuY6a1tPDGResgL1M/s320/2022-09-12%2019.54.47.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A slightly more chill climb<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><span> <br /></span></p><p><span>The rest of Monday was spent descending. It was not high quality trail, and it was interminable. It followed a creek that we crossed on bridges numerous time, but we rarely ever saw the creek and were going behind houses through villages back and forth, back and forth. Finally we got out to a highway, walked a short stretch of Roman-built road and reached the third life base, Donnas, at 156Km. </span></p><p><span>"No blisters so far, and my feet feel good. What do you think, Tod, should I change my shoes?" I asked.</span></p><p><span>"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."</span></p><p><span>"Eh, I'm gonna change my shoes. Speedgoats will be nice and cushy." </span></p><p><span>I'm an idiot sometimes.</span></p><p><span>The life base was hot and stuffy. I thought it was too hot to sleep in there, and I was having trouble focusing even just sitting there sorting through my gear, so after foolishly changing my shoes, we moved on. I regretted it almost immediately. The Speedgoats were indeed cushy, but the way the cushion bunches up in the back gives me a weird tic-tac size blister on the flank of my heel, and I could feel it coming soon after leaving the life base. Thankfully, Tod and I had a new companion to keep us company, Luca, an Italian living in Norway. He was an avid fan of our sport of trail running, so we talked about Kilian and Courtney and Jim and Laz, the history of Tor itself, and other races we needed to do in Europe. </span></p><p><b><span>Day 3-Tuesday </span></b></p><p>We finished off the night with Luca, climbing through villages. To get local officials on board for the race it seemed like there were some deliberately circuitous sections through towns and villages so that runners would pass through and possibly bring tourism dollars. We lost the route a few times in all the semi-urban travel. The race was almost exclusively marked with stake flags, which are nice and visible but don't tell you what direction to go when they're placed at an intersection. </p><p>One aid station in the middle of the night had some fruit juice (nectarine? peach?) that was amazing. I was so elated to have something not Coke and not water I drank the whole bottle. Leaving the aid station there was a race poster that the aid station volunteer wanted us to sign. Tod picked up the marker, and struggled to find room to sign his name for a second. The volunteer said (in Italian) "You <span>should have gotten here sooner, there was plenty of room earlier." He and Luca had a good laugh and so did we when Luca translated it for us later. I knew Luca was a strong runner and would maintain a good pace through to the end, but Tod and I needed to sleep, and the next aid station (Sassa, Km 170) had a perfect setup for us: a small tent off to the back with just two cots. I set an alarm for an hour and we were out cold.</span></p><p><span>After the nap we continued climbing up to Rifugio Coda (175 Km). The view here was amazing--the Alps just end. No foothills, no rolling hills, just straight down and then flat as far as the eye can see. This was basically halfway, and we got there in 48 hours. Could we finish in under 4 days? Probably not, since just because you can do something for two straight days doesn't mean you can do it for four. Still, it felt <i>really</i> good to do that consistently for two days, and maybe maybe, miracle of miracles, we could pull of 100 hours, if not 96. Just something to shoot for.</span></p><p><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfKmAADOllVrqddwFAR2wtrR-4JSCzaWq8pp2IJWU98-9CLOrfdItDhAvFM55hwErIetnikFRNp5GrvaegPHEJE_aZuvaxxVHTKHkkYeY_Ne30hSqwSMrq0NetSu4ooK4vftFwjHWkIf5IJ-qAEMN4_VbswJztPcmzoEH-H4hB_S9xCQkaYo/s4608/2022-09-13%2010.01.21.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfKmAADOllVrqddwFAR2wtrR-4JSCzaWq8pp2IJWU98-9CLOrfdItDhAvFM55hwErIetnikFRNp5GrvaegPHEJE_aZuvaxxVHTKHkkYeY_Ne30hSqwSMrq0NetSu4ooK4vftFwjHWkIf5IJ-qAEMN4_VbswJztPcmzoEH-H4hB_S9xCQkaYo/w400-h300/2022-09-13%2010.01.21.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">110 in 48, or close to it<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBM-y7HT17Wn1QWm5tljyilqyap2AFT9_6xGApSUzU2g1kRx8tpMKHazvUcRsVb5RWmWXC_A6Z47pmezX1vn56oG8FzdVMXbZEk24Ge_H1v0sR1U3ftLZC09WVjZA1gRuCft73CghMgzECcYukvYD9kdpIvOMlSC5ti465XbPxSIVWRr7BnI/s4608/2022-09-13%2010.06.58.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBM-y7HT17Wn1QWm5tljyilqyap2AFT9_6xGApSUzU2g1kRx8tpMKHazvUcRsVb5RWmWXC_A6Z47pmezX1vn56oG8FzdVMXbZEk24Ge_H1v0sR1U3ftLZC09WVjZA1gRuCft73CghMgzECcYukvYD9kdpIvOMlSC5ti465XbPxSIVWRr7BnI/w640-h480/2022-09-13%2010.06.58.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of the Alps<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><span> <br /></span></p><p><span>So we had a deliberate discussion of how to keep this up. What mistakes should we not make again? We both agreed that we should spend less time in life bases, and not try and sleep there. More on that later. </span></p><p><span>Rifugio Coda had adorable older folks in matching crocs serving food, and there was a little bit of Sprite and pineapple juice that I appreciated. The volunteers were so adorable I wished I had an Italian grandma to make me pasta and give me a hug. </span></p><p><span>Unfortunately the pace slowed from Rifugio Coda to Rifguio della Barma (Km 183). There seemed to be a lot more up and down than is reflected on the elevation profile, and the trail was slick, twisty, and rocky. Rifugio della Barma was nice, I think it was the only aid station on the entire course with tortilla chips. They maybe even had salsa, or who knows it might have just been ketchup, I was pretty out of it, I just appreciated variety of any sort; I was still downing multiple bowls of pasta with veggie broth at nearly every station. Rifugio della Barma also didn't let you bring your trekking poles inside; they had a volunteer at the door who took them and put them behind a railing. As he took mine, I had the distinct thought "This is a terrible idea." </span></p><p><span>Two models of trekking poles (BD folding carbon and the red Leki ones with the skinny handles) make up 80% of the poles in use. Luckily for me, my BD poles are shorter than most and thus identifiable, but as predicted, there was a mixup, and someone left with someone else's poles. The unlucky person may have caught up with the unsuspecting person and swapped back, but they seemed to disagree about whose were whose. Moral of the story: put some clear identifying markers on your poles, and if you set them down, put them out of the way, not in a pile with a bunch of nearly identical poles. (You <i>absolutely</i> need poles for this race. I can't imagine doing a single solitary hour of the non-road sections of this race without them.) </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G2vDBoJjpwp0prGg9mxUUOB1u0sucDw7ihagJvBD5Pvuz1QT1qJarLNmXL6O0wONwkTtUXMCWUCflnNhZV0gnZBok0wCHjIf1BkbvNLqqpfcIqMvVRjGBvKP8HGsi9yOnNnyxAETqBGJ8WPtyZp-drP2hanpJM9E1mFto1QdCZ9yNXQnYXo/s4608/2022-09-13%2013.16.34.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G2vDBoJjpwp0prGg9mxUUOB1u0sucDw7ihagJvBD5Pvuz1QT1qJarLNmXL6O0wONwkTtUXMCWUCflnNhZV0gnZBok0wCHjIf1BkbvNLqqpfcIqMvVRjGBvKP8HGsi9yOnNnyxAETqBGJ8WPtyZp-drP2hanpJM9E1mFto1QdCZ9yNXQnYXo/s320/2022-09-13%2013.16.34.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tod at Rifugio della Barma<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span></span><span> <br /></span></p><p><span>The unexpected climbing continued to Lago Chiaro (Km 189), which was just a small metal box helicoptered into the backcountry just for the race, and placed near a small cow-fouled lake. I didn't expect much under the circumstances, but there was cold beer and a volunteer playing the accordion that was delightful, even if there wasn't much to eat there. </span></p><p><span><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWGFsd1g_kmZs_vCwzNwbQMDIoefny1Fkbe7un5l7cE-TrLhqMvsbsmtp-aoRVD_EKA-idJ6BnsbfSKhF4fsYWKP_YV_WaSEAm0WdrTKQGkITWZFlnl8R4Q79QvK1cfXWNqPn04qC7wgwNItvPeKT0oITMOqIH3aovK6Jmf3L-2-l5gsShyU/s4608/2022-09-13%2015.25.14.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWGFsd1g_kmZs_vCwzNwbQMDIoefny1Fkbe7un5l7cE-TrLhqMvsbsmtp-aoRVD_EKA-idJ6BnsbfSKhF4fsYWKP_YV_WaSEAm0WdrTKQGkITWZFlnl8R4Q79QvK1cfXWNqPn04qC7wgwNItvPeKT0oITMOqIH3aovK6Jmf3L-2-l5gsShyU/w400-h300/2022-09-13%2015.25.14.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Live entertainment at Lago Chiaro<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p><span>Colle delle Vecchia was next at Km 193. On the way there we saw a mother and child chamois, which was the first wildlife we'd seen. (Not even a rodent or lizard and not many birds; we'd remarked on really not having seen nearly any animals at all thus far.) The aid station had polenta. The final climb from the aid station to the col wasn't that long, but the descent to the next aid station at Niel (Km 200) took forever. To your left you could see the highway and a town far below, and that's where I thought we were descending to, but we weren't really descending that fast, more like a long difficult contour with constant ups and downs. Finally I started seeing day hikers. </span><span>One day hiker had an air horn he was using a couple miles before the aid</span><span> station, and I could hear the aid station well, well, before I got there, so it was discouraging how long it took me to finally get there. </span></p><p><span>Once there, however, this was a great aid station. I saw a drop bag and got my hopes up thinking it might be the life base, but someone who had dropped out was just hanging out with their bag at a regular aid station. The aid station in Niel was in a really nice restaurant/inn at the edge of town. (<a href="https://www.lagrubarelais.com/" target="_blank">Really, it's gorgeous</a>.) I didn't quite realize how many options it had (some people apparently got ice cream?!), but they kept shoving fresh polenta at me, so I was happy. They also had beer and were making espresso drinks, and there was a British couple and a local Italian teenager who was fluent in English, so communication was far easier than at most aid station. As usual when I'm in Europe, I downgrade from vegan to vegetarian, so I wasn't really avoiding milk, but I thought Tod (who is truly vegan) might want one too, so I ordered an Americano, and everyone within earshot laughed and laughed at me, which I honestly enjoyed.<br /></span></p><p><span>Niel wasn't the life base, but after one more climb and descent we reached it at Gressoney (213 Km). It was a large gymnasium. I was pleasantly surprised to see Mike and Suzanna there, as I thought they'd always be way ahead of me. The descent into Gressoney was pretty miserable with my side-heel blisters aggravated by every heelstrike or rocky landing, so I switched back into my La Sportiva Karacal. Did Tod and I immediately take off after taking care of our feet and switching out our lights? Nope! I got my blisters lanced and taped (this was good) then tried to sleep in one of the three rooms they had full of cots. One was dark, and two had the lights on since they couldn't figure out how to turn them off. I figured I'd be better off in the light rooms with a blanket over my face since they were nearly empty, but people outside kept making noise. This just made me grumpy as hell. I spent at least an hour trying to sleep there, and I'm not sure if I actually slept at all. Jan showed up and said hi, but like I said, I was grumpy as hell. She saw the look on my face and said "Oh! You don't need to talk! I just wanted to check in on you." I think we were in Gressoney for three hours, at least two of which felt completely unnecessary. Tod and I had <i>just </i>said to each other that morning we needed to not waste time in life bases, and then we immediately proceeded to amble around in a non-restful brain fog for three hours at the very next one. Charging and swapping lights, foot care, and switching shoes could have been done in an hour. There were showers, but I didn't take a real one, I just kind of rinsed off in a mop sink I found in a utility closet, because it was quiet and I am a weirdo and I was on very little sleep.<br /></span></p><p><span>We eventually left, and Jan walked with us on the paved mile or so through town. Only 5Km and 450m ascent later came Rifugio Alpenzu which was a <i>perfect</i> place to sleep. Two small bunk rooms, quiet, and cool. If we'd been more lucid, we would have breezed right through the life base and slept for an hour at Alpenzu, instead we slept for 20 minutes. The climb over the next pass was not the hardest, but a little bit of rain and a lot of clouds and fog came in, so Tod and I stayed close together since finding the trail markers was difficult in the fog and my waist light was slightly better at locating them than headlamps. The descent to Champoluc (Km 231) was uneventful, I just remember running a long way through town and, despite the early hour around sunrise, hoping a market was open so I could buy something to drink other than water or Coke. Or maybe I only thought of that idea after getting to the aid station on the far edge of the decent-sized town and seeing only Coke and water to drink, and them really only having plain pasta to eat. I also managed to set the bathroom alarm off, because apparently some Italian bathrooms have safety alarms but not ceiling fans, and I am an idiot. </span></p><p><b><span>Day 4 - Wednesday <br /></span></b></p><p><span>We had a little more paved walking to do, and before we reached the trail, Tod said he needed more sleep, so we slept fitfully on benches in a bus shelter next to fairly loud traffic for about a half hour. I got a little ahead of Tod on the climb after that and was feeling pretty good, so I thought the partnership might have ended, but as usual, we met back back up fairly quickly. The weather was still drizzly, there were cows and slaughterhouses everywhere, and we kept moving. When we charged into Rifugio Grand Tourmalin we both felt good, and left after only a few minutes. </span></p><p><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizS4lYCvKi8Hns6LvAcrhkXdj14kYNujsRiWmF9itmLlzs3pEIsOuMHV7w9kYxZilsjgKN2UTD70BnehnAhasveFEClnzcX6QdKa3YdLMDOfNwLClsqT0pLUSqasITD9aLvCOVlNYlfWfq0W3BbbkjbwqMZYfdaFdZAcbbYHM2NnToRtDIBBI/s4608/2022-09-14%2011.00.32.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizS4lYCvKi8Hns6LvAcrhkXdj14kYNujsRiWmF9itmLlzs3pEIsOuMHV7w9kYxZilsjgKN2UTD70BnehnAhasveFEClnzcX6QdKa3YdLMDOfNwLClsqT0pLUSqasITD9aLvCOVlNYlfWfq0W3BbbkjbwqMZYfdaFdZAcbbYHM2NnToRtDIBBI/s320/2022-09-14%2011.00.32.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside Tourmalin<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><span><br /></span></p><p><span>Right about this time we were close to 72 hours, and my watch told me we weren't that far off of 165 miles. Tod said his watch was showing less, and if I'd done the Km-miles conversion I could have known we were really only 150 miles into the course, and day 3 had been significantly slower than days 1 and 2. But the climb to Tourmalin had been gentle terrain, and there were two passes in a row that actually seemed connected--you contoured in between them rather than dropping steeply down for half a day and then climbing right back up thousands of meters. I seemed to have recalled someone saying the second half of the race was easier, and I really latched on to that idea. We're gonna finish in under 100 hours! Let's goooo! After this nicely connected next pass, we caught up to Mike, who was a little bewildered by my insane push for four days, and didn't think his feet were up for it since he'd ripped off some tape that tore blisters open and now had raw toes that drastically hindered descents. Anyway, he was nice enough to not tell me I was stupid.</span></p><p><span>The descent to the next life base at Valtourmench (248 Km) felt easy. It was relatively rock free on a dirt road across open ski slopes. I got ahead of Tod for a bit and chatted with a Greek name Lazaros. Suzanna's husband and her crew friend were there, and Suzanna was sleeping for a bit, so they gladly helped me with my gear. I didn't stay long, and felt I had to keep up a 3mph pace to have a shot at 100 hours, so I charged ahead, partly fueling myself on dislike of a runner ahead of me whose girlfriend was clearly pacing him, which is against the rules (pacers are an American thing, essentially no European races allow pacing.) I kept up the pace to the aid station below the dam at Rifugio Barmasse (Km 252), where the owner/race volunteer seemed really grumpy and I'd bet money he cussed me out in Italian for not speaking Italian, and asking for "soup" twice instead of "zuppa."</span></p><p><span>I kept charging hard through the next aid station at Vareton-Torgnon (258 Km) but I was spent after that. Someone I'd caught passed me and I could barely think or walk straight. The section up and over the pass felt very circuitous and had the disadvantage of, like some of the very first climbs, not having any natural line to it such that you had no idea where the actual pass would be. I was a bit worried I'd lose the trail, even though it was still light out. I did see ibex though!</span></p><p><span>The decent from the pass to Rifugio Magia (267 Km) was nuts. Trails in the Alps have never seen a single maintenance crew. Thousands of years ago, a goat walked there and made a rut, then erosion took over, and now we have a "trail" full of cow manure and rocks going straight down the mountain. Rifugio Magia had a full service restaurant that was full of non-racers, so I tried to buy something other than Coke and water, but it was an expensive small bottle so I didn't bother. They did have two bunk rooms for sleeping though, so I slept for 20 or 40 minutes there, and felt like that cleared my head a little. I was slow on the climb and tried desperately to hang on to a couple of people passing me on the way from there to Rifugio Cuney (270 Km) where a medical volunteer started quizzing me on my cough. It was very cold and windy and it felt pretty clear to me that it was "Tor lung" just like I had at Hardrock and plenty of other people get. I wasn't sure whether she was thinking I had COVID or HAPE or something, but I tried to shrug it off and drank some hot tea which quickly stopped the coughing. On the plus side, another one of the volunteers was super cute and spoke decent English.</span></p><p><span>This section was very circuitous and the in and out directions from the aid station were so close together I felt lucky I didn't head the wrong direction. After interminably long contouring, I reached the bivy cabin with a giant green spotlight, Bivacco R. Clermont (Km 274). I sat down and in walked Tod and Suzanna. Thank god! We weren't going to finish in under 100 hours, but maybe we could finish before dark on day 5? We crammed in at the one picnic table for, you guessed it, Coke, water, and plain pasta. We had a tiny bit of climbing left, and then a long, long, long descent on bad trail to Oyace at Km 285. It was too hot with my rain jacket on and too cold and wet with it off, so I was constantly switching back and forth, the rocks were slick as snot, and as soon as we finally got to the bottom there was an annoying set of switchbacks climbing back up. I hoped we'd just get right in and out of Oyace, all three of us together, but Suzanna needed to sleep, so after an hour or so Tod and I took off together. As soon as we walked out in the rain, we both thought, but thankfully didn't voice outloud: "We could just go back inside and wait until it stops raining." </span></p><p><span>I knew this section was going to be dumb but not that hard. The trail to the top of the mountain was cut off due to a landslide so we were rerouted lower. Still, the trail they put us on climbed with no views and in my opinion for absolutely no reason, instead of following the river. At least it was relatively rock-free, but there was no point to any of the climbing. A very poorly designed creek crossing was flooded, leading to some of the only wet feet of the entire race. There was a pretty worthless helicoptered-in aid station box in the middle of this section, and a steep descent. Finally, after some pavement through the village, I arrived at the last life base, Ollomont (Km 299).</span></p><p><span>It was a little cramped, but I got my blisters drained and re-taped, slept a little, and drank a <i>lot</i> of mixed fruit juice. (More on the effects of that in a minute.) Tod and Suzanna came in, but I left a half hour to hour before them. Last 50K and only two big climbs left, let's go!</span></p><p><b><span>Day 5- Thursday</span></b></p><p><span>I had a slow start. Despite a considerable nap, I didn't have much energy for the climb, and I had explosive diarrhea almost immediately after leaving Ollomont. It was morning and the sun was up but I was not feeling it. I read the news on my phone to pass the time (Yvon Chounard gave Patagonia to his environmental non-profit, pretty neat. Probably some other depressing news I chose not to read about just then.) I got to Rifugio Champillon (Km 303) just as Suzanna was catching up to me. I tried to order some polenta from the rifugio but it was too early for lunch so I just had a weird vegetable soup from the aid station that definitely didn't help with the runs. Suzanna, James and I climbed to the summit together, and as I reached it I alerted everyone that my ass was going to explode. And explode it did, with one of the best views I've ever had. Note: Italy does not do Leave No Trace. It's disgusting. There is poop and toilet paper right next to the trail, not buried <i>at all</i>. Not even a lazy turn-over-a-half-buried-rock, just pop a squat right next to the trail. I was carrying a Deuce of Spades and tried to bury mine. </span></p><p><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFx5VaLAEHPBsx61FMa9wxK5AQv8Y_1QO4WkkHtE5_LhKP7tkI6NVQjamOjVgbOcX4y2sjMSJyhdSZqZeKotXQWfRcAIlNtPflKefxjXznFo0_J7C77YZU_W8cfIbdMby78T3TGJA9MxkUW09yZRqDKqY3VWrqYGjloGIknzR3Ddf-eWKlE0/s4608/2022-09-15%2011.23.56.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFx5VaLAEHPBsx61FMa9wxK5AQv8Y_1QO4WkkHtE5_LhKP7tkI6NVQjamOjVgbOcX4y2sjMSJyhdSZqZeKotXQWfRcAIlNtPflKefxjXznFo0_J7C77YZU_W8cfIbdMby78T3TGJA9MxkUW09yZRqDKqY3VWrqYGjloGIknzR3Ddf-eWKlE0/w400-h300/2022-09-15%2011.23.56.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Site of the incident<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><span> </span><span><br /></span></p><p><span>Luckily I made some comment to Suzanna to remind me at the next aid station to see if they had anything like Immodium, and James overheard me and said he was carrying some! So I scored a few tablets from him. I had a nice conversation with James as we descended to the aid station in the valley below. As soon as I got there I was ready to explode again, but the aid station was a converted slaughterhouse with no toilet so the volunteers told me just to go outside. I did, but also managed to fall over while squatting into some stinging nettle. Did I mention it was my birthday!</span></p><p><span>What a day. The next section of trail was an easy road that I wish I'd been able to run, but I was so tired I was weaving back and forth. So I laid down for a dirt nap and didn't set an alarm. I slept for almost an hour, which was far more than I'd wanted to. I ran to make up some time and caught up with Tod, who hadn't recognized me as he passed me sleeping by the side of the trail. I passed a guy who clearly had thru-hiking gear and asked him "What's up Mister Thru-Hiker man? Where're you going?" He said he was hiking a pilgrimage route from Canterbury to Rome. I explained the race, and he said "Ahh! So I see our philosophies are quite different! But I wish you well!" When Tod caught up to me at the next aid station at Bosses (~Km 322) I had to ask if he'd seen the thru-hiker too or if it was all in my imagination. He was real.</span></p><p><span>Jan was at Bosses with some of her leftovers. I'd texted her to see if I could score some substantive food, since the aid station monotony and diarrhea had been wreaking havoc. Real meals are hard to get at certain times of day in small Italian villages, but she did give me her leftover vegetables (carrots, cauliflower, green beans) from the night before which really hit the spot. James, Tod, Suzanna, and I started the last climb together. James got a big kick out of "tod" being slang for poop in some part of the UK so we all laughed at a line from a podcast he'd heard: "the tod-strewn streets of Brighton" or something like that. Potty humor goes a long way after 96 hours with 4 hours of sleep.<br /></span></p><p><span>We reached Rifugio Frassati together. The owners seemed pissed that I wanted to pay them for food that was on their menu, but it worked out and the polenta with vegetables was delicious, and was the real food I needed to get me through to the end. James spoke with his girlfriend on the phone and said he was going to throw his shoes in the bin and never run again after the race, just sit at the coffee shop. That sounded dreamy to me. Suzanna shared her race mantra with us: "Joy and Ease." <br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpsdU96xKVTtphBk_4zehvy45tKu8taGPDmyIBFSZz0yXzaCQMFWLgllyamnyaxoRKQtd-BUczIurs_8CJO2VKy-T-JqRQf6Hm4t3oqymKVyFJ0HYNOCYXTxuTkdIefEn9ldyKImn6CPfiUEgb5YUVtkzaetSPb84hD7gmNhXlKYilFVAZTU/s4608/2022-09-15%2019.18.14.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpsdU96xKVTtphBk_4zehvy45tKu8taGPDmyIBFSZz0yXzaCQMFWLgllyamnyaxoRKQtd-BUczIurs_8CJO2VKy-T-JqRQf6Hm4t3oqymKVyFJ0HYNOCYXTxuTkdIefEn9ldyKImn6CPfiUEgb5YUVtkzaetSPb84hD7gmNhXlKYilFVAZTU/s320/2022-09-15%2019.18.14.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suzanna's mantra: "Joy and Ease"<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span>Another American, Tyler, caught us at the aid station and was adamant about leaving quickly to try and get over the last pass before dark. This made a lot of sense and was the kick in the pants I needed to get going. I had also been hoping to finish in the top 100 finishers and was just outside the top 100 at that point, so even though I was happy to have another American/English-speaker join the crew, I didn't want him passing me. I left the aid station first, with all my clothing on, though it wasn't much--no pants, a t-shirt, a lightweight long-sleeve race shirt, my Patagonia Houdini 3-oz. windbreaker, the buff the race gave us in our starting swag, and fingerless bike gloves. My legs were completely dead by this point. Never have they felt more like lead. But there was nothing to do but keep climbing. I counted to 30 steps, breathed a few times, and started over. There was a short <i>via ferrata </i>section at the very top, and then we were there, the top of the last high pass, Col Molatra (332 Km), just in time to pull out my waist light before descending in the fog. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_sGUsGjm_2hV-e42gQ9Pa0piTbClCboHkjWx7kiWV4Zol6pggrIUG_pTb8pIF0jlm6GBRp1x_6IvwJTWMb9exSY7rC_rC3G5OA5eNkvbzwjP4SWgvRIAHd1JLPzjxGac4wOJNmkLAZ4b18EvK8O5avcJTjTqfX9KzQeHZhzax510AFNDHe9s/s4608/2022-09-15%2020.09.24.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_sGUsGjm_2hV-e42gQ9Pa0piTbClCboHkjWx7kiWV4Zol6pggrIUG_pTb8pIF0jlm6GBRp1x_6IvwJTWMb9exSY7rC_rC3G5OA5eNkvbzwjP4SWgvRIAHd1JLPzjxGac4wOJNmkLAZ4b18EvK8O5avcJTjTqfX9KzQeHZhzax510AFNDHe9s/w400-h300/2022-09-15%2020.09.24.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last high pass, Molatra<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span></span><span> <br /></span></p><p><span>A descent and a short climb took me to a small aid station at a high point, Pas Entre deux Sauts (336 KM). They were grilling meat kebabs on a flat stone. At least three of us were vegetarian/vegan so we didn't have any, but Tyler ate and it was joyous just watching him eat. I was so glad that finally an aid station was providing variety I relished the smell and look of it. Tod and I took off and separated from the group. My brain was barely working at this point, and I would have needed to stop if we were any further from the finish, but I knew I was still outside the top 100 so I wanted to push and see if I could pass anyone. One person passed us blazingly fast, and we passed one other person on the final descent, but with the live tracking I pretty much knew there were zero other people to pass in the final few miles. Still, we didn't even stop at the final aid station, bombed the last descent, and thankfully didn't get lost on all the turns in the final stretch through the city parks and pavement. </span></p><p><span>I finished in 109:49:19. at 11:49PM, under 11 minutes to spare on my 43rd birthday. Tod finished under a minute later, but two hours faster. I finished in 101st place (out of a lot), and 4th American (out of not a lot). For me, I pretty much crushed it.<br /></span></p>
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<p><span><b>After, Recovery - Friday</b> <br /></span></p><p><span>We hung around at the finish line, and I immediately became freezing and started shivering. James, Tyler, Suzanna, and a few others I'd been trading places with came in shortly after. After a few hours of hanging out, eating pizza, and drinking beer, Jan drove Tod and I to the sports center where we crashed on cots. She kindly offered to pay for a hotel room for us, but in my sleep-deprived idiot state I was focused on getting my gear bag and getting warm clothing so I declined. That meant I slept poorly for yet another night and was still a blubbering idiot all day Friday.</span></p><p><span>Luckily the hotel where my luggage was had rooms (I hadn't made any post-race reservations). I alternated between sleeping for a few hours and then stumbling around trying to buy cough drops and food. It's a good thing the race is in a nice Italian village, if it were America I definitely would've been hit by a car. </span></p><p><span>Friday night I went to bed but woke up at least 8 times in a full sweat, the sheets soaking, with a full bladder. The same thing happened the next two nights, as my body was sloughing off liters and liters of water. Urine was all clear though, so no rhabdo and everything was fine, except that I had a terrible cold. </span></p><p><span>Saturday I walked around Courmayeur buying gifts for Amy, coughing, and pontificating about the difference between Italian and American customer service. Sunday I attended the post-race ceremony, got a ride with Mat back to France, and took the train to Geneva. Monday I flew home. Tuesday I called in sick to work and coughed all day. Thursday I felt like my cold was on the mend. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IC3M3nAAn5jPvIGNENMAivx1hGz7-iACcw4sxqCIZbqgD2AoreQ7zjDQYZLWp_LD-u9alm75yhjGif-TZCMmNU1fT-ZfNAvWL5Oo6m-0UgeZaRE2YD72NvdJHEAuSfzr6fxF0U2YHodxZe1E-F9QEIbJaAtQOxr4esPvK1Vo4H-edlHhQD8/s4608/2022-09-17%2012.53.39.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IC3M3nAAn5jPvIGNENMAivx1hGz7-iACcw4sxqCIZbqgD2AoreQ7zjDQYZLWp_LD-u9alm75yhjGif-TZCMmNU1fT-ZfNAvWL5Oo6m-0UgeZaRE2YD72NvdJHEAuSfzr6fxF0U2YHodxZe1E-F9QEIbJaAtQOxr4esPvK1Vo4H-edlHhQD8/s320/2022-09-17%2012.53.39.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A finisher reward on Saturday<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span></span></p><p><span>Would I run it again? If you're talking about turning back the clock and running it the first time knowing what I know now, definitely yes. If you're talking about running it a second time, likely not, and definitely not for four or more years. Would I run another 200+ mile race in Europe? Yes, Swiss Peaks 360Km in 2024 or 2025. Definitely. <br /></span></p><p><span><b>Gear</b></span></p><p><span>La Sportiva Karacal worked amazingly well. Maximal cushioning with a rockplate, I felt fewer rocks and had better grip than in Speedgoats.<br /></span></p><p><span>Put identifying markings on your BD or Leki poles.</span></p><p><span>30 hours after I finished, high
winds and snow hit the last high pass. Runners were stopped at Rifugio
Frassati overnight and then turned around and sent back to Bosses
the next day. This has happened multiple times in the race's short
history, so I was very lucky to make it over with such skimpy gear. I carried more on Wednesday when the forecast said bad weather was coming in, but I should have kept it with me after that as well. Summer's over by this time of year in the Alps.</span></p><p><span>Make sure your GPS watch can track while charging--you're definitely going to have to charge it during the race (my Coros can).</span></p><p><span>In fog, lights around your waist are better than headlamps, and you're definitely going to need your hands for your poles so carrying a light in one hand isn't an option. </span></p><p><span><b>What's Next?</b></span></p><p><span>I texted friends after the race to ask whether I should retire, or whether I should recover, hire a coach, and train harder than I ever have for a specific race next spring that I am in the very unusual circumstance of being nearly guaranteed entry. They said take my time to think about it. </span></p><p><span>I basically didn't run for four weeks after the race and I loved it. Finally, on Columbus Day, I had the day off from work and got grumpy. I realized as I was going to bed that I was grumpy <i>from not running. </i>In other words, I'm back to normal. My October race was cancelled due to fire and I can't say I was that upset given that I would have just walked the whole thing. I've got a 50-miler in Virginia the first weekend in November. As to whether I'm going to finally hire a coach, I still haven't decided.<br /></span></p><p><span> </span></p><p><span>Tor: It was awesome, you should do it. Thank you to Jan, Sam, Mat and others who offered support during the race. You're right, Lucas, it's a great race.<br /></span></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-3259678249469191272022-09-06T14:58:00.000-04:002022-09-07T07:37:05.000-04:00Saint-Gervais-les-Bains<div dir="auto">Hello from the slopes of Le Prarion above St. Gervais-les-Bains. I arrived in Geneva early this morning, stupidly having watched movies the whole flight rather than sleeping. A couple trains quickly got me to St. Gervais and then I hiked myself and my two backpacks full of race gear 2,700 vertical feet up the mountain to my cousin's husband's family chalet. (Thank you N & S!)<div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto"> It's adorable and has terrific views of whatever mountains those are across the way (in the opposite direction of Mt. Blanc). I'll probably stay two nights then hike up over the rest of the mountain and down to Chamonix, and continue on my way to Courmayeur, where I'll be running Tor des Géants, a 330Km race with 80K+ feet of vertical gain. It's going to kick my butt for days.<div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto">I had to go back down into the village to hit the ATM and get some food. It was a great run down, but then once I was there the weather was very threatening. I ate some quick pizza and asked if there was a taxi stand nearby. Apparently not, but luckily the pizza guy offered to take me for 10€. (The exchange rate is awesome right now, aside from airlines sucking, now is a great time to visit Europe.) So I got a ride as far as the pavement goes, and then hiked as fast as I could through the hail and lightning back to the chalet.</div><div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto">I'm all stocked up and there's actually a small restaurant a few chalets over, so tomorrow I'll probably just hang out up here rather than going back to the village.</div></div></div> The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-56654231098465246682022-07-30T18:20:00.000-04:002022-07-30T18:20:25.184-04:00Standnope 100<p>I just ran the inaugural Standhope 100 in Ketchum, Idaho. I was very excited for this race--it was billed as an "unforgettable single-loop trek completely circumnavigating the Pioneer Mountain Range of central Idaho" that is "NOT an easy course." I looked at the <a href="https://caltopo.com/m/F76E" target="_blank">course map</a> and elevation profile and expected <a href="https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipOw1xvuK1EckpYbNKKhDY_K7UlHK8AW6k-XYcUH0O_94iH3-9-pQfHm9ILLH9B53A?key=cHNTX19IVXhDZzNqMGRlYmtZbURsWjhJWTRSQWR3" target="_blank">gorgeous views</a>, akin to the Hardrock of Idaho. Instead, I had a 90 degree F 6PM start along several miles of highway shoulder, subpar aid stations, subpar course markings, a lot of gravel road, pavement to the finish, one truly excellent high pass, and a lot of mixed feelings about the race.</p><p>On the plus side, the race started and ended in downtown Ketchum, which was extremely convenient. I flew to Boise and rented a car, as I wanted to see extended family and visit gf's family inherited property on the trip. However, if you wanted, you could fly direct to Ketchum and you wouldn't even have to rent a car. On the negative side, this meant 4.5 miles of pavement to start, and 5+ miles of pavement to finish. </p><p>The race was not consistently well-marked. I enjoy off-trail events, and I enjoy navigation and unmarked courses, but there is a certain internal consistency that can make things feel natural if done well, or just shitty if done poorly. For example, if you tell me ahead of time that I need to know the course and carry a GPS track, or a map and compass, great. On the other hand, a mostly marked course with a few unmarked turns on or off of roads feels awful. The latter was the case in this race, though to be fair it was mostly only a problem in one section, from miles 32-40. After a pass, the course markings left seemingly well-maintained trail <i>and the GPS route</i> and headed down a gully. I tried to follow the markings for a bit but since both maintained trail and the GPS route followed a more natural line, I eventually just cut straight down to a switchback to recover the trail, the GPS route, and the course markings. A trail crossed a bridge and hit a road, and the road had cones <i>in both directions</i> on the road. Then a turn off the road onto a lesser road was unmarked, so I stayed on the main road. After a major road junction, I checked GPS, realized I'd missed the turn, and took the major road straight to the aid station. Several runners got messed up in this area. The aid station at the end of it I think could have easily fixed it had they been supplied with flagging, but at least they had a cool attitude about it. Also slightly weird was that the RD couldn't (or wouldn't?) precisely describe the start of the race through town. It wasn't a big deal, because we did get led by a cyclist through the three quick turns through town that put us onto the highway shoulder, but it's not a great confidence booster to directly ask the RD immediately before the start "How far is it before the first left?", not get an answer, and not be able to tell whether the RD is being coy or whether he honestly doesn't know.<br /></p><p>The race started at 6PM. I have only run one other evening start 100-miler--Grindstone, which is a David Horton race. David Horton can get away with that because he's a legend. He's also extremely stubborn (his words) and perhaps a bit of a sadist (my words). What does an evening start accomplish? To make the math easier, let's just say that in mid-late July, it's daylight from 6AM to 9PM in Ketchum. The race cutoff is 42 hours, the winner finished in 26.5 hours, and the median finish time was about 35 hours. Given the 6PM start, everyone had three hours of daylight to start, everyone ran through the first night, and one runner finished before having to use a headlamp during the second night. The winner ran 17.5 hours in light and 9 in dark. The median runner ran in light 18 hours and dark 17 hours. The 42-hour cutoff finisher would have run 24 hours in light and 18 in dark. </p><p>Compare that to a 6AM start. Assume for the sake of argument the same durations, though I think that's unlikely because running in the dark is typically slower and going two nights without sleep is significantly less fun than going one night without sleep. The winner would run 17.5 hours in light and 9 in dark, the same as before. The median runner would run 26 light and 9 dark hours, significantly more in the light than with the evening start. The cutoff runner would run 30 light and 12 dark, again more daylight running than with the evening start. The cutoff runner would finish by midnight the second night--they'd have to have a headlamp for sure, but they would not go a second sleepless night. Hopefully it's obvious why the ratio matters: a big part of running a course is <i>seeing</i> the course, which aside from a pleasant view of the stars, can't be done at night.</p><p>Now, daylight running isn't the only variable to examine here. We might also care about temperature. The start of the race was a miserable 90-degrees, and the heat of the next day was also pretty miserable. Running more at night does reduce the average race temperature, but I would argue that if you're holding a race at night because it's too hot during the day, your priorities are out of whack--just hold it at a different time of year. (There was a heat wave seemingly everywhere in the world at this time, so I don't think this was actually a calculation the RD made since everything was scheduled months in advance. I'm just saying heat isn't a good enough reason to run at night on a course people actually want to see.)</p><p>Another reason for an evening start is to schedule a certain particular part of the course during the daylight. This was indeed accomplished: the obvious highlight of the course is Standhope Pass at mile 47.5 after about 14 hours. With the 6PM start, the leaders went over the pass around sunrise, and they hit one of the hiked-in aid stations and its gorgeous wildflowers while it was still dark (clearly, the packed-in aid station had to be there during the night.) The rest of us clearly went over the pass during the day, and the aid station could close up and pack out without having to spend another night (assuming a much lighter load on the way out and a reasonable rate of downhill packing out.) </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOHrMKJR3h3l_tXpBoKblrIHESS_cBA6LoliDVhTy-tKbPMbYivHH9wBh0vFsBDQIZEbdWEX1HWOg73ietebrGMSzL5RSwTGdgM-O1zDfnefO9jfPCttNvm-kDhCTwfYjHA4oSkTWdS7o4r760YPjz4vv2adQBn_Rb14E4NaXuhq0c3EnCSAE/s4608/2022-07-23%2009.38.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOHrMKJR3h3l_tXpBoKblrIHESS_cBA6LoliDVhTy-tKbPMbYivHH9wBh0vFsBDQIZEbdWEX1HWOg73ietebrGMSzL5RSwTGdgM-O1zDfnefO9jfPCttNvm-kDhCTwfYjHA4oSkTWdS7o4r760YPjz4vv2adQBn_Rb14E4NaXuhq0c3EnCSAE/w640-h480/2022-07-23%2009.38.30.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous Standhope Pass<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnEyVlkv1zwug9YdZcbEOlSJh9g4t7Qtp0loWm4Xug6_EomzilOD2nnKi1bvxKk_2dmJ2b_SzaRYyJcqaNIO7lcfyG1xNZWEwMBRF116XWKtqqXYH2_Jmu2_ZWd5YMy9ra30hGQhVfYzgcK-FUbaTOBkWpOI4uCm_w0j4OasHaEO46_99uKA/s4608/2022-07-23%2010.12.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnEyVlkv1zwug9YdZcbEOlSJh9g4t7Qtp0loWm4Xug6_EomzilOD2nnKi1bvxKk_2dmJ2b_SzaRYyJcqaNIO7lcfyG1xNZWEwMBRF116XWKtqqXYH2_Jmu2_ZWd5YMy9ra30hGQhVfYzgcK-FUbaTOBkWpOI4uCm_w0j4OasHaEO46_99uKA/w400-h300/2022-07-23%2010.12.40.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down from the pass to Baptie Lake<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /> <br /></p><p>Compare that to a 6AM start. The leaders would have gotten to the pass around 5PM, I (a little bit slower than the median runner) would have gotten there around 8PM, and the cutoff chaser may have gotten there when it was getting dark. It would indeed suck to get "stuck" there overnight, but I assume permitting agencies would be comfortable with racers being told they couldn't drop there--they would have to keep hiking on, and one of the aid station volunteers packs out backwards with them, or the sweeper goes out forwards with them. </p><p>The point being--a morning start would also let everybody see the one cool pass in the daylight! The aid station volunteers wouldn't have to spend an <i>extra</i> night out, they'd probably just shift the one night they spent out to after<i> </i>the runners instead of before. </p><p>A final reason for an evening start might be to stagger the finishes of the shorter races (there are also 30K and 60K races held the same weekend.) The 100-milers ran through the finish of the 30K and 60K after 57 miles, and the shorter race cutoff time possibly did allow most of the RD's work at that finish line to be done before he had to head back to town for the first finisher of the 100-miler. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHC5w30CdwrPBcctpFyLQmnVhsAFx3qcnxoKG6Q1Nv_7_7ukGXdiuYQSGM4NXGJfSBzybKxoddJQDvzEQk_3QIX5UQ85xnNdsUkUxca71Jok1DnefMapi8AFJr1f28xa5RuAiv4YvACbz3-59tyuBvb_jHWqho8HA4hjBJzjNBcL13yLaJyQ/s4608/2022-07-23%2015.06.35.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHC5w30CdwrPBcctpFyLQmnVhsAFx3qcnxoKG6Q1Nv_7_7ukGXdiuYQSGM4NXGJfSBzybKxoddJQDvzEQk_3QIX5UQ85xnNdsUkUxca71Jok1DnefMapi8AFJr1f28xa5RuAiv4YvACbz3-59tyuBvb_jHWqho8HA4hjBJzjNBcL13yLaJyQ/w640-h480/2022-07-23%2015.06.35.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading down to Little Wood River<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>As for the course itself,<i> is there potential for more than one super-cool pass on the course?! </i>A quick search of the CalTopo map shows alleged trail going over Johnstone Pass. Some random online report says the Forest Service has abandoned this trail due to frequent slides, but if they would allow the course to use this route, it should definitely be pursued. The course has seven tough climbs, and they all go over passes or shoulders, but they were not all equally inspiring (read: alpine rather than tree-covered). Not to beat a dead horse, but timing for more daylight hours would allow more runners to appreciate more of the passes on the course. <br /></p><p>The course would be better with less gravel and pavement. I broke down <a href="https://caltopo.com/m/8MFA1" target="_blank">the map</a> by surface type. Grey is gravel, black is paved, red is current trail, and blue is my potential alternate. At present it feels like basically half the course is gravel or paved. (I'm slightly over-counting gravel on the map--I don't distinguish between gravel and lesser dirt roads that are more enjoyable to run, they might make up a third or a quarter of the "gravel" roads.)<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyC4xmW1yjZl2I21SMt4tq8p55jMmsbALPqX_2VC2dJmmZ0J9R3sg_f6nxGmIBOMmWFba3FJ3KnU_7yUy01gCT96AiECKqmyGERlFrDRrW5_kwpYgiefFPoWXlRiPKm0eERMZTSsRuKihIvBmJcgPpXLPfAoXL82fhewzWjYT63LL4Nrnerc/s1151/StarHopeAlt.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="783" data-original-width="1151" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyC4xmW1yjZl2I21SMt4tq8p55jMmsbALPqX_2VC2dJmmZ0J9R3sg_f6nxGmIBOMmWFba3FJ3KnU_7yUy01gCT96AiECKqmyGERlFrDRrW5_kwpYgiefFPoWXlRiPKm0eERMZTSsRuKihIvBmJcgPpXLPfAoXL82fhewzWjYT63LL4Nrnerc/w640-h436/StarHopeAlt.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Course Map<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I'm not saying a reroute is obvious or even possible, because I've never spoken to the permitting agencies, but Johnstone Pass seems like it might be a possibility, and there two potential places to avoid gravel and paved road: the 100-milers could go over the shoulder of White Mountain, which I'm pretty sure is on the 60K course. There's no such thing as a free lunch (except for starting in the morning!) so that would require an out and back to Star Hope aid station, but it might be worth it. You might also be able to improve the finish by running on Corral Creek Trail instead of the roads.</p><p>Aid stations: at least three car accessible aid stations did not have any soda. In the 100+ ultras I've run, I can't recall a single aid station before Standhope without soda unless it was explicitly labelled as a water-only (also likely unmanned) drop. Soda is a must. Coke and Ginger Ale are standards. I get that RDs might delegate the exact buffet spread to each aid station captain, but they usually come with a minimum standard: water, sports drink, soda, potatoes and salt, potato chips, fruit, PB&J, and more. Vegetarian options in terms of hot food was also not excellent, though I did not have high expectations (it being rural Idaho and a brand-new 100-miler). There were three packed-in aid stations, and two of them had quite the spread (including soda!); I truly appreciate this gargantuan effort.<br /></p><p>OK, OK, enough complaining. How did my actual race go? Well, I finished in 37 hours. Friends of mine who are much stronger than I am finished in 31 and 34 hours, so I feel that my time was decent enough. Given that only 23 runners started the 100-miler, I expected to be alone for a day and a half. Instead, I ran nearly two-thirds of the race with other people. Right from the very beginning I traded off DFL with another runner, and we ended up staying together until around mile 70. He ended up being only 16 years old! His brother started pacing him at mile 40, and me and another solo runner latched onto them and we made a good group for a while. I thought we might actually finish together, but eventually we split up. If I'd managed just one more climb without breaks I'm guessing the other solo runner and I would have hung together until the finish, and I could have taken about an hour off my time. </p><p>Overall, my trip to Idaho was great. I had a fun dinner with extended family, I drove around gorgeous Idaho, and I visited a property that gf's family won in a poker game generations ago. I'm glad I took the extra day and a half off work to make a bit of a trip out of it instead of just flying in and out of Ketchum immediately before the race. Gf and I are moving to Reno now, so we have our hands full. It was nice to get the race done before the move so I can not feel too guilty about a couple of low-mileage weeks.</p><p>Next up: Tor des Geants! (So I should really keep training!) <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OL4f9Pnsx8NUflueweO1xDr7z9T8xwWiZcs_VVGfOEW79meSrJ-O4zIqVTYk1JruweCmZ0ZCsgIqLXoutrtYGsk1EwkRvoAZvNrBkrikVg-i064_lLVqm9GRzD7gME3uDRtU0mWM1p0bgCgY8nVvfSihmHJ6yNjZFr8cMEQOk9i3X_wdEhg/s4608/2022-07-25%2007.48.41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OL4f9Pnsx8NUflueweO1xDr7z9T8xwWiZcs_VVGfOEW79meSrJ-O4zIqVTYk1JruweCmZ0ZCsgIqLXoutrtYGsk1EwkRvoAZvNrBkrikVg-i064_lLVqm9GRzD7gME3uDRtU0mWM1p0bgCgY8nVvfSihmHJ6yNjZFr8cMEQOk9i3X_wdEhg/w400-h300/2022-07-25%2007.48.41.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Idaho Property<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-85265915721798977422022-07-02T23:52:00.000-04:002022-07-04T08:54:20.500-04:00Golden Trout Wilderness<div dir="auto">If I haven't told you already, we're moving to Reno. Moving is stressful. Trying to find renters or a decent property manager for short term rentals is stressful. My work is making noise like I may have to go back to DC, despite the new agreement with the union, so that's stressful. Summer heat really kicked in in the desert so it's hard to do long runs, or sometimes any runs at all. So this week was rough. <div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto">But I took off with Margo and George to the Sierra for the long weekend. (Amy is out of town.) We headed to Horseshoe Meadows and went over Cottonwood Pass to see a bunch of the Golden Trout Wilderness that is new to me. After the first four miles we didn't see a soul. We just finished a 50K and are camped at over 10,000 feet on the shoulder of Kern Peak. Hope we don't freeze tonight!</div><div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto">Oh, yes, you read that right, both my dogs did a 31 mile day. I love these two! Margo carried the dog food backpack most of the day and was a pro. George was a big baby when I made him wear the dog pack, but he got over it. </div><div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto">I have to look at the map and do some math, but we may try and do about the same tomorrow. If we can stay warm and have enough food we'll come out on Monday the 4th.</div></div> The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-25152693347909671902022-06-04T20:54:00.001-04:002022-06-04T20:54:13.165-04:00San Diego 100 #2<p> I just got home from running the San Diego 100. This is the only 100-miler I have ever officially run more than once (unofficially I did the Western States course before running the race.) I like seeing new places and generally have little desire to repeat things. I've repeated 50-milers and 50K, mostly because Mt. Diablo and Rodeo Beach are gorgeous, but also it's nice to occasionally have an apples-to-apples comparison of my performance on the same course with the same amount of elevation gain. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure the course of the San Diego 100 changed since I first ran it in 2011, so this isn't an apples-to-apples comparison.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4usv7yuQuEPngPbLEw-qwTynzcLrJecf8EmpTsPnlfbmILQq58Zl_2QcymsMUuzhCVKjpvIbcOn7iQYSPTrcv2_7T-sPOY0Rp3fjXQjmOIQLGIZun6Qv2lL3rUAa7Gf0ANfk7-4HFQyyRl0aG1MENOMzYYLB_hn-f0DK94ct3y-mS_aj6H8/s2304/IMG_20220603_055712780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4usv7yuQuEPngPbLEw-qwTynzcLrJecf8EmpTsPnlfbmILQq58Zl_2QcymsMUuzhCVKjpvIbcOn7iQYSPTrcv2_7T-sPOY0Rp3fjXQjmOIQLGIZun6Qv2lL3rUAa7Gf0ANfk7-4HFQyyRl0aG1MENOMzYYLB_hn-f0DK94ct3y-mS_aj6H8/w400-h300/IMG_20220603_055712780.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start</td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>I wasn't sure about my fitness level going into the race. I've done some long hikes in the past couple months--I tried to hike from my house to San Gorgonio, I did a loop of the Baldy Marathons with 9,000 feet of vertical gain, and last weekend I did two big runs in the Bay Area--but I would call my training neither hard nor consistent. My time in 2011 was 26:32, and I figured I'd try and beat that. I also wanted to have a non-miserable second half, so I decided to take it easy in the first half. Normally I'd be shooting for 5-6 miles per hour for the first two hours of a hundred-miler. This time I only shot for 4.5 mph. I hit it for the first few hours, but I definitely didn't feel like 4.5 mph was easy enough that I was banking energy--the course had rolling hills, and it was a struggle to do 4.5mph when reigning it in on downhills and hiking the uphills.</p><p>Eventually it got quite hot. Not Palm Springs in August hot, but still uncomfortable, since it hit during the first big climb of the day, up Noble Canyon. For good measure, the canyon had a bunch of biting black flies. When I got to the top of the climb at mile 43, I didn't feel great. The next few miles were rolling but I was very slow, and stayed slow all through the night. (Would a brighter headlamp help improve my nighttime performance?)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNAHKLEJdk5XDOdCk-oNunrPzABPPwTM3vWEPP58cUnl-th2lfcg7YWxS80tpOAdJ-y4QTEHq1-JWk3NK8g9Vr5AYFv1r2Va10EeQfpFlWIqD0FJFCu6C-31SJCv6vT13YtvWZTjr87VfngzuOEGampeMfhjZF_-rdab4h9KuR974yAljtK_I/s4608/IMG_20220604_054215156_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNAHKLEJdk5XDOdCk-oNunrPzABPPwTM3vWEPP58cUnl-th2lfcg7YWxS80tpOAdJ-y4QTEHq1-JWk3NK8g9Vr5AYFv1r2Va10EeQfpFlWIqD0FJFCu6C-31SJCv6vT13YtvWZTjr87VfngzuOEGampeMfhjZF_-rdab4h9KuR974yAljtK_I/w640-h480/IMG_20220604_054215156_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The sun came up, it was briefly very cold and windy, but of course it got hot by the time I finished. I crossed the finish line in about 30 hours and 10 minutes. After thinking I could do a 12-hour first half (I think it ended up being more like 13.5) this was pretty disappointing, but I'm glad I did it. The course is pretty, and the drive from my house down there is gorgeous--on the way back I drove through Anza Borrego State Park. The race goes through tiny bits of the park, but I'd never been to the wild and stark desert portion I saw on the drive. </p><p>Though I'm not exactly impressed with my performance, I'm glad I did it. I've got another 100 next month in Idaho that is going to be a serious butt-kicker, so the more miles logged this month, the better. <br /></p><p>Things I liked about the race organization:</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Aid stations had porta-potties.</li><li>Aid stations had signs or volunteers always knew how far away the next aid was.</li><li>Aid stations had plenty of ice. <br /></li><li>Some aid stations had plain white rice--I find this goes down easy even on a hot day. <br /></li><li>It's easy to (car) camp in the same campground as the start line.</li></ul><p>Things I didn't like about the race:</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>No vegetarian noodle soup. The vegetarian "soup" was straight veggie broth out of the box, which in my opinion, tastes awful. As I have mentioned numerous times before Soy Sauce flavor Top Ramen is vegetarian. So are all flavors of Costco ramen (I think. I know their chicken flavor is.)</li><li>The end of the course feels very circuitous. It's 9 miles from the last aid station to the finish, and after three miles you can clearly see the lake and the finish line, but then you turn away from it and follow a circuitous dirt road in and out of gullies for several miles. I don't know if there is a more direct way to the finish line, but if there is, it would feel a lot less demoralizing to do the "out and back so this thing is exactly 100 miles long" part earlier in the race--running away from the finish line at mile 95 isn't the best feeling.</li></ul><p>Gear Talk:</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>I tried wearing compression shorts to see if that kept chafing at bay. It did for a while, but not after getting super sweaty on the hot climb. </li><li>I wore gaiters for the first time in a while, as well as calf compression sleeves. I don't know the counterfactual, but they seemed fine.</li><li>I'm still rocking the five or 10-year old Ultimate Direction Peter Bakwin pack. I like carrying hard bottles, because they're much easier to refill at aid stations than a bladder. The pack is getting really ratty and the bottles chafe my rib cage a bit, so I probably ought to get a new pack. I suppose most people are using soft flasks these days, but they can't hold as much volume and they aren't insulated. <br /></li></ul>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-54637903171474813582022-02-07T19:30:00.001-05:002022-02-07T19:30:19.909-05:00Sean O'Brien 100K: Yep<p>I ran the Sean O'Brien 100K in Malibu Saturday. Mistakes were made, but I finished.</p><p>I haven't been training a lot in the last two months since my PR at CIM, and I'm mostly fine with that. It was nice to get my Western States qualifier out of the way early in the year, and it was nice to go to LA and see friends I haven't seen in a while. ("What!? You have an 11-year old kid? Wow, guess I really haven't seen you in a while.")<br /></p><p>Anyway, the race was nice enough. It's got an 5:00AM start, which is good for getting the second climb in before the heat of the day, even though it made it for an early wake-up and cold start line. </p><p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwkQNqA4y-fC-cGvHwZ3YAMIm8zNYXIvcbuadyWqkA32QOfTts70WsUV75GlWzZruhv5ygS6pUBufjB7Y0kwq31ulziKvbG7lN-niOsr5XArHZXPfBML7HHTGYGwR0J2iBFKxk2lbhk2w-nEzJ3SLIvLW9Fncijr_x2PMtefmz1e6Lfvcvi9E=s4608" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwkQNqA4y-fC-cGvHwZ3YAMIm8zNYXIvcbuadyWqkA32QOfTts70WsUV75GlWzZruhv5ygS6pUBufjB7Y0kwq31ulziKvbG7lN-niOsr5XArHZXPfBML7HHTGYGwR0J2iBFKxk2lbhk2w-nEzJ3SLIvLW9Fncijr_x2PMtefmz1e6Lfvcvi9E=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Malibu Morning<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>The course was shortened slightly due to some recent trail damage, so it ended up being under 59 miles. I felt fine, if not exactly fast, through the first 50K. I was on roughly a 12-hour pace and counted something like ~25 runners ahead of me on out and back sections. I thought I'd likely slow down in the second half and end up around 14 hours. I guess that's kind of what happened, I just didn't expect it to be so painful. From around mile 34 every uphill mile consistently took me more than 15 minutes. There was a long drop down that passed us by the M*A*S*H filming site in Malibu Creek State Park, and I got a little kick out of that since there were a couple years as a kid that I really liked that show, and once upon a time I lived in the city it was supposedly set in, but it definitely wasn't enough to get me back up the 1,700 feet climb to mile 50 very quickly. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjs_akz5aqSXVrXcNz6CUYeRmi9s5EzmXEFZfiH-KdRxbZ2yncZa6PEdy3HnAcJK_Uodu6Pq_c0xzTKCG37JRV7XbaI68iwNN1pTyDhaSkrzGqWQy3ycmCaUyrOxblIISKoHbefnRcoxpJmvQBhhAgiL4X_zP8QPQCGj5sLAtjXMlu7NAHLPNk=s4608" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjs_akz5aqSXVrXcNz6CUYeRmi9s5EzmXEFZfiH-KdRxbZ2yncZa6PEdy3HnAcJK_Uodu6Pq_c0xzTKCG37JRV7XbaI68iwNN1pTyDhaSkrzGqWQy3ycmCaUyrOxblIISKoHbefnRcoxpJmvQBhhAgiL4X_zP8QPQCGj5sLAtjXMlu7NAHLPNk=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZPuex7zxkiEYG89tfj74zhiuIKrytDOzdXyk4mm0WPstmAf42NIIOD0sBa0uTxuQjCgFkaLqIFGuYLt0DCwPdQTmZUjhTXQAtzIeUgXFeXTdqncxSUQa7eoc6Auf0upWckBX7MRQO-29uYxdoVM5NGjOff_Hi2DtD0mXrPTRdyxGoFgaNmXI=s2304" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZPuex7zxkiEYG89tfj74zhiuIKrytDOzdXyk4mm0WPstmAf42NIIOD0sBa0uTxuQjCgFkaLqIFGuYLt0DCwPdQTmZUjhTXQAtzIeUgXFeXTdqncxSUQa7eoc6Auf0upWckBX7MRQO-29uYxdoVM5NGjOff_Hi2DtD0mXrPTRdyxGoFgaNmXI=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>When I got there my feet were killing me. There was a creek crossing only two miles into the race, but my shoes had dried completely, and I'd changed socks, but still the bottoms of my feet were painful. By this point the Hoka Challengers I was wearing had over 500 miles on them, and I think it was silly of me to wear them on a day this long. I believe I'm on my third pair. I've gotten over 700 miles out of a pair, and they're probably my favorite shoe for their versatility and durability. However, those Malibu dirt roads (the Backbone Trail) often seem more like sandstone covered in dust than dirt, so the pounding really got to me. I tried a few minutes of mindful running, focusing on my breathing, or paying attention to all the sensations in my body, but mostly I listed to a fantasy novel, <i>Words of Radiance</i> by Brandon Sanderson, to distract myself. Unfortunately I barely spoke to any other runners the entire day, so that didn't help pass the time.<br /></p><p>Obviously, I kept going and finished. A few people passed me on the last descent, which is usually when I would shine, but not today. I managed to convince myself that the cutoff might be 15 hours, even though my logical mind knew it was 17 hours, so I wasn't completely moping my way to the finish, and did manage to bring it in under 15. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi30Bkqc67WkkXN6czaTyXq5K6dHYU6gVFv2hRRYAKSgIh4785dFjR_5nDaAft0TyoQODxAoJBS-sPan2GOrw8PEGx85HkLNBo9Y5a4IohYTA-kZldhNi71PCoYWkLakWazZQp8JBYzqzAyu2jyDdGrZSLELO8x70X9IBi9nHujl9-tDOV82pI=s2304" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi30Bkqc67WkkXN6czaTyXq5K6dHYU6gVFv2hRRYAKSgIh4785dFjR_5nDaAft0TyoQODxAoJBS-sPan2GOrw8PEGx85HkLNBo9Y5a4IohYTA-kZldhNi71PCoYWkLakWazZQp8JBYzqzAyu2jyDdGrZSLELO8x70X9IBi9nHujl9-tDOV82pI=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>I've for sure had slower 100Ks, but I've had faster too. It is what it is. I should wear newer shoes and remember to re-apply anti-chafing lubricant halfway through the day--I was definitely sweaty, salty, and a little chafe-y by the end. I should also put more drink tabs in my pack or drop bag in case they don't have enough ginger ale at aid stations. </p><p>Would I recommend the race? Sure, it gets a passing grade for a 100K. It's pretty enough, though it is mostly (and in the 2022 iteration, 100%) an out and back. (Would a point-to-point end-to-end of the 67-mile Backbone Trail not be more interesting, even if not a round number and logistically more difficult?) I think the aid stations didn't have enough ginger ale, and were more snacks than substantive food. This was more set up to the standard I expect for a 50K and I really would've enjoyed something hot 50 miles in. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzghAguvswKopzs-ZoYlN_aRq0blx9I2HkGlhmOJjrZL97ebWlguXnVicAoaqaVQ3QETRF74Z1zy6oBuzSQlHg3c19bvQomsP4Uqy2v9opdTx6rpm502JR6mAWtH-myNCKeEQ-0RBik462_oOfI2Jwh3c79FS5XAJS0oktTmf-Ij2iDve-5vI=s4608" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzghAguvswKopzs-ZoYlN_aRq0blx9I2HkGlhmOJjrZL97ebWlguXnVicAoaqaVQ3QETRF74Z1zy6oBuzSQlHg3c19bvQomsP4Uqy2v9opdTx6rpm502JR6mAWtH-myNCKeEQ-0RBik462_oOfI2Jwh3c79FS5XAJS0oktTmf-Ij2iDve-5vI=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>It was pretty. I didn't run quite as fast as I wanted to. I had fun. The end.<br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-26200986125714827732022-01-24T18:57:00.000-05:002022-01-24T18:57:01.487-05:00Just a 50K<p>I ran the Calico Ghost Town 50K this past weekend. Gf ran the 30K. The race starts and ends in the middle of main street of the ghost town, which is a county regional park. No big deal, but it was nice to get out. <br /></p><p>I finished in 5:27, which is pretty good but not great for me--it's my tenth fastest out of twenty-six 50Ks that I've done. In a longer race, my goal is usually just to run instead of walking a larger fraction of the time. In this race, I ran pretty much every single step that wasn't obviously too steep. So that's nice, but I guess to progress I'll have to actually do better on how fast I'm running, not just whether I'm running. My goal was to run under 5:10, which would require 10-minute miles. I managed that through 12 miles, but only managed it for 5 of the remaining 18 miles. </p><p>Oh well, it was fun. I had a great conversation with a fellow racer where we barely talked about running at all and instead talked about crows, desert tortoises, and growing ferrocacti from seed. The course maybe isn't the most photogenic, but it's pretty in person, with nice desert vistas, and a 70-degree day felt great after a cold December. </p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgN0ehmuFaSQ9XrdOmvZ4ja1q5yjEAvs2XRQuTKVwgD4HlmBsjt5qhZXoZso8qfe4nHnlj0joqyNJchGaOBBle33Z0u3T4U1C4lN0A2htwU3ri7LfcDQqwz3PWssIFF5eZ_dovnhKM5YRweckmoDf_hJ2A-iG-SVxDepaf1f44MFpbbfXZHO9Q=s4608" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgN0ehmuFaSQ9XrdOmvZ4ja1q5yjEAvs2XRQuTKVwgD4HlmBsjt5qhZXoZso8qfe4nHnlj0joqyNJchGaOBBle33Z0u3T4U1C4lN0A2htwU3ri7LfcDQqwz3PWssIFF5eZ_dovnhKM5YRweckmoDf_hJ2A-iG-SVxDepaf1f44MFpbbfXZHO9Q=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go through here<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTTpagUAqAAlMAFrtTJWJmamU-SeM3yofU1_UXEO6vFXhHjbQvPvQSkz1PWFcJqoZi4BUi2UBD0m7LbjzNXzKr5IVdOcf-cfIr4XjnhaCEqA3u3GgjtfvBRojeymdO5PmxhWGS5QHnnuTuy8o0-LE7PCz7mjfQ4dfdNvnesEn6gVG8jV0mJlE=s4608" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTTpagUAqAAlMAFrtTJWJmamU-SeM3yofU1_UXEO6vFXhHjbQvPvQSkz1PWFcJqoZi4BUi2UBD0m7LbjzNXzKr5IVdOcf-cfIr4XjnhaCEqA3u3GgjtfvBRojeymdO5PmxhWGS5QHnnuTuy8o0-LE7PCz7mjfQ4dfdNvnesEn6gVG8jV0mJlE=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then down and back up again<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpWX0Ktp-UuMYdkgIahGKlFLutYHAGVWC4zJTMcmFX5I90LfCBDlG_9oqxem812dbnDK3kntEyHzXHdxu28MP4yRfghYg9vHhdrwIIFzUU75TxHDhQFzKhgtkAWReNR1ADAJhl3SrwmirIOEHW7m6yexhvBsrIDQGOalz02FQR5J1YCsxX4uI=s4608" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpWX0Ktp-UuMYdkgIahGKlFLutYHAGVWC4zJTMcmFX5I90LfCBDlG_9oqxem812dbnDK3kntEyHzXHdxu28MP4yRfghYg9vHhdrwIIFzUU75TxHDhQFzKhgtkAWReNR1ADAJhl3SrwmirIOEHW7m6yexhvBsrIDQGOalz02FQR5J1YCsxX4uI=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>My only complaints are that pre-race communications could be better (putting the course map on the website would be nice, as would explicitly noting that the start/finish parking is inside the park) and that the first few turns straight out of the gate on paved roads could be marked (there were Sheriff/County SAR folks at some of the turns, but if a fast newbie ever showed up, he couldn't have led the first two miles without asking for help). The rest of the course was reasonably well marked, except that I'm pretty sure the volunteer at the junction the 30K and 50K split was in the wrong place. It all worked out though, since he probably sent all the 50Ks the same way and we met up with the original intended way after not too long. </p><p>It was nice to have a race under two hours away. I talked with another Coachella Valley runner about other local races. Other than Kodiak and Calico, I don't really think there are other ultras under three hours away. Three hours will get you a bunch more: Cuyamuca, San Diego 100, PCT 50, Leona Divide, OTHTC 50K, and of course everything in LA: Angeles Crest (I guess that's only two hours) and Chimera if/when that comes back, Sean O'Brien, Ray Miller. Several of those are on my list for the year. <br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-71659312384166777752022-01-20T16:48:00.002-05:002022-01-22T12:52:31.582-05:00My 2022 Race Schedule<p>Alright, here are the races I'm planning to run this year. For whatever reason I've really got my mind set on Tor this year, but
it's lottery-dependent. I'm told I can buy/charity-donate my way in if I
don't get picked, though. It's time for another 200-miler, and a gorgeous one in Italy that was Lucas' favorite sounds like a good one. It's also
time for the pandemic to be over so I can get back out there for a full
year of racing, plus international travel, and maybe a couple concerts. So obviously this plan is
full of contingencies.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIEw8exirIF2Iz9GQT7S5H_mrm5cB1PHRd0-gOFlDLvQVKnZHM4CxJ9KPIlClvkl7Sb28tC87QfHFKGUU-R2Sbnw-tDB0gZOcyPPmsyDxSaL7M7oC5UDOq37CRd_6ofSW59XHcMoqONYyK419pVWvBlCHARINUJ87yrZ7Hd4AeuLVZWbJ3Lgg=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIEw8exirIF2Iz9GQT7S5H_mrm5cB1PHRd0-gOFlDLvQVKnZHM4CxJ9KPIlClvkl7Sb28tC87QfHFKGUU-R2Sbnw-tDB0gZOcyPPmsyDxSaL7M7oC5UDOq37CRd_6ofSW59XHcMoqONYyK419pVWvBlCHARINUJ87yrZ7Hd4AeuLVZWbJ3Lgg=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b>Bold</b>=already registered </p><p>*=Western States qualifier </p><p><b>January 23: Calico 50K </b></p><p><b>February 5: Sean O’Brien 100K* <br /></b>
February 26: Yucca Valley 5K (ha!)</p><p>March 8-10: Barkley (waitlist, very unlikely) </p><p><b>April 3: Cherry Blossom 10 Miler</b>
<br />
April 7-10: Istria 100M (Croatia, currently unlikely to actually do this.) </p><p>May 7: Wild Wild West Marathon/50M (Lone Pine, unlikely due to travel plans)
<br />
May 21: Bishop High Sierra 50M/100K </p><p><b>June 3: San Diego 100* </b></p><p>July 22-24: Standhope ID 100 (This looks awesome. I believe it's the first year, though they have been doing shorter distances for a while.)<br /></p><p>August 19-20: Kodiak 100 (Big Bear, CA) <br /> August 26-Sep 2: Swisspeaks 360K (only if I don't get into Tor des Geants) </p><p>September 9-18: Tor des Geants (Courmayeur, IT–February lottery)<br />
<b>September 17, 2022: Barkley Fall Classic</b> (I'm already in but I'll probably bail in favor of Tor.) </p><p>October 15: Euchre Bar Massacre (This one's mandatory.) </p><p>November 6: NYC Marathon (lottery mid January, acceptance unlikely)<br /> November 12: Revel Big Bear Marathon (silly downhill road marathon) </p><p>December 3: OTHTC 50K (Ridgecrest)<br />December 10: Hellgate* (Lottery/application. Western States qualifier for 2024.)</p><p>I'll only do one each of the November and December races. So maybe that'll be 11 races, not including the 5K held two blocks from my house. Also, if you're into transparent and reproducible coding, I ran the lottery for the 2022 High Lonesome 100. The website/app is <a href="https://garretchristensen.shinyapps.io/Lottery2022/" target="_blank">here</a>, and the code is on GitHub <a href="https://github.com/garretchristensen/RaceLottery2022" target="_blank">here</a>. <br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiF23CrX1MH482Q8ZYB1vVfj4VG1betkguK64PuVwFT9_Gprup7Pb_eA6Ym4WtWXVjvvGa7vARegS0c0h9l5547sU4qcjHbLrNZ5-qtX6flrl1ngzqsqOOpRbKQmKx7hUoXoUsLLTJBHyJbvekbNZJADhmTCw81jrpWqfVCMOpOk3Jk5Kzr2rk=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiF23CrX1MH482Q8ZYB1vVfj4VG1betkguK64PuVwFT9_Gprup7Pb_eA6Ym4WtWXVjvvGa7vARegS0c0h9l5547sU4qcjHbLrNZ5-qtX6flrl1ngzqsqOOpRbKQmKx7hUoXoUsLLTJBHyJbvekbNZJADhmTCw81jrpWqfVCMOpOk3Jk5Kzr2rk=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-29080549543025177852022-01-14T15:55:00.005-05:002022-01-15T23:10:50.567-05:00Peeling the Onion<p>I rang in the new year at a 10-day silent meditation retreat. Turns out it was a great way to avoid getting sick, since everyone had to be vaccinated and tested, and then we were quite effectively cloistered together in a bubble. The retreat was one of the S. N. Goenka retreats, and it was only fifteen miles from my house in 29 Palms. In fact, I had intended to walk there from my house, since that's kind of my thing, but my PCR results were not back in time, so instead I spent the morning of arrival day stressing about that and just had Amy drive and drop me off instead.</p><p>More importantly, wait, what? Garret went to a meditation retreat? Is this the same embittered ex-Mormon now-atheist anti-anything-spiritual-or-supernatural burn-it-all-down-with-statistics Garret we all know and fear that we're talking about here? </p><p>Indeed.</p><p>My main motivations are that I want my college brain back, I'd like to get off the hedonic treadmill, and I'd like to be more present. In college a History of Civilization professor mentioned offhand that Xenephon was one of Ben Franklin's favorite thinkers, so one night I was bored, went to the library, and read a bunch of Xenephon's <i>Memorabilia</i>. (No, no I did not have a girlfriend at the time, why do you ask?) Another time I heard that a movie called <i>Brokeback Mountain</i> was going to come out, and there was a lot of buzz, and it was based on a <i>New Yorker</i> short story by Annie Proulx. So I went to the library, got the physical copy of the magazine, and read the story. Nowadays I think the Internet has broken my brain. If <i>Brokeback </i>came out today, I might get as far as clicking a link in the Reddit post I was reading to open a new tab in my browser with the <i>New Yorker </i>short story, but I absolutely would not be able to read the story from start to finish. The unread tab would float around (I have 19 open as I'm typing this) for a few weeks until I admitted my failure, closed it, and forgot about it.</p><p>As for the hedonic treadmill: I have a well-paying, stable job. I buy things with my income. I am doing well. But am I satisfied with it, or am I always craving more? There are lots of examples, but here's just one. We moved to California with only Amy's fairly crappy set of kitchen knives. I enjoy cooking very much. I also truly enjoy the feeling of using a well-made tool that is appropriate for the job. So I bought a nice Shun santoku knife. Chopping that first onion with it was delightful. But then my brain immediately moved on to something else. Chopping a red pepper or a tomato with it isn't quite as nice, given their thick skin. That might be best with a good serrated knife. Maybe I need one of those. Ooh, but you know what, there's a sale, so why don't I just get a nakiri vegetable cleaver and a chef's knife while I'm at it? Oh and this top-rated paring knife is only $9? Let's get that too. Once you upgrade one thing, you've got to upgrade everything else so it doesn't suck by comparison. Hedonic treadmill goes vroom.<br /></p><p><span> </span> <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXLXBav2GX2BKJVR6KJF65zMREiBnTqNmgbq0tlqOBe4hm5jv-hWOm3nNzhcF2gaytPO3ut-kKRNrxe4quvIAtZh39jB8NNudaGweGgMzA79ikQO2HX0roRljk-AB7OHS6n8ypHE2MjIdjgC1hGZCu2Q4RlArCjjWW0IC7bshwU5vnTgmRvsA=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXLXBav2GX2BKJVR6KJF65zMREiBnTqNmgbq0tlqOBe4hm5jv-hWOm3nNzhcF2gaytPO3ut-kKRNrxe4quvIAtZh39jB8NNudaGweGgMzA79ikQO2HX0roRljk-AB7OHS6n8ypHE2MjIdjgC1hGZCu2Q4RlArCjjWW0IC7bshwU5vnTgmRvsA=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gotta get 'em all!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>As for being present, while I still have a slight aversion to the phrase (see also: mindfulness), there's no good reason for that. It's an absolute reality that I spend an inordinate amount of time, including my time spent running and hiking in beautiful places, rehearsing arguments with friends and family that will never happen, stewing over perceived slights or disagreements. Hiking the Hayduke Trail last year, in the most gorgeous and otherworldly canyons of the Colorado Plateau, I was thinking "I can't believe X is a NIMBY. That's so stupid that they spoke against a permitting variance for that apartment building on their block. Don't they know that parking minimums are the root of all evil?!" Correct as my assessment might be, is it useful? Even on an issue that really does truly directly effect me--because of my failure to click a single box on my application to my current job, I have, for the rest of my life forfeited a 10% salary raise, and am one of the least-well paid people in similar roles there--even though this is true, there is nothing I can do about it, especially while on vacation in the bottom of the Grand Canyon. So look up, there's a literal river shooting out of a sheer cliff hundreds of feet above the ground. Enjoy it!</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7ID1WRpgFL9wdw53Qvo7vf67aXfGwo7QsK1_jMFN2ACYy-BF9am6pwI2GEILyEY0Yw7Osoak4xasBozvZNRtOZjWzwKTBom2jsXpcqrcY9KtkSIDPPIjQJUm_0ZwvnnStpXj89da97l5ETFRuph1_Be5Sd9TZJyXUf8iWgDdNu13ESJPt0NA=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7ID1WRpgFL9wdw53Qvo7vf67aXfGwo7QsK1_jMFN2ACYy-BF9am6pwI2GEILyEY0Yw7Osoak4xasBozvZNRtOZjWzwKTBom2jsXpcqrcY9KtkSIDPPIjQJUm_0ZwvnnStpXj89da97l5ETFRuph1_Be5Sd9TZJyXUf8iWgDdNu13ESJPt0NA=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thunder River<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />So yeah, is there anything I can do about this? And wait, isn't running meditative and don't I do a ton of that? Yes, I run a lot, but I don't think it's meditative. It's certainly not deliberately meditative much of the time. I listen to books on tape when I'm running, or I get in argumentative loops with people who aren't present about trivial minutia just like while hiking. I think there's a material difference between people saying "running is my meditation" (or gardening or crafting or listening to podcasts or hiking or or or ...) and actually meditating. Are you observing your own mind as closely as possible? <p></p><p>In my second year of grad school at the nadir of my emotional experience, I attended some group counseling sessions, and the therapist taught us some cognitive behavioral therapy techniques. Essentially, when I was thinking about how miserable grad school was ("I hate this with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns") I was supposed to observe that thought, and then think something along the lines of "OK but is that useful?" I can't remember how I came across it (it was almost certainly a podcast) but I bought Dan Harris' book <i>10% Happier: Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics</i> and brought it with me on my Hayduke Trail hike. He spent the first half of the book ripping Eckhart Tolle, <i>The Secret</i>, and Deepak Chopra new a**holes and generally tried to limit the grandiosity of his claims, so I connected with it and enjoyed the book.</p><p>I started practicing small amounts of meditation (15 minutes would be a long day) and listening to other audiobooks and podcasts: <i>Waking Up</i> by Sam Harris, <i>Why Buddhism is True</i> by Robert Wright, <i>Secular Buddhism </i>by Stephen Batchelor. Harris claimed there was a lot more to meditation than becoming 10% happier. Maybe not all the way to enlightenment, but you could expect major changes if you just realized that there is no self. I didn't understand what it meant that there is no self, nor did I understand what the implication was even if it was true, but it was really interesting. Robert Wright laid out a simple, science-based, and convincing argument (as least as well as any popular science journalist can do) of why secular Buddhism works. Stephen Batchelor was a bunch of flowery word salad drivel that I loathed and gained nothing from.</p><p>Anyway, there's a pandemic. We move across the country, I read, I meditate a tiny bit, and the holidays are coming up, why don't I do a retreat like all the authors mention, and see what the fuss is all about? A friend had done a Goenka retreat years ago really enjoyed it. I looked them up, I read the Google reviews ("It's a cult!"), I read several first-hand accounts ("It's not a cult. They mention reincarnation but you don't have to believe it. Also there were lots of spiders.") and decided that enough atheist Sam Harris fans were also fans of the Goenka retreats that it must be fine. If it wasn't, it was free and I walked there from my house, so I could get up and leave any time. New Year's seemed like a nice time to do it (fresh start) and a way to use the holidays to spend one less day of PTO, and at a time when, given the winter weather, I wouldn't be doing something awesome outdoors, which is pretty much the opportunity cost of doing anything for me.</p><p>I had some hesitation as the start approached after an episode of <i>Decoding the Gurus</i> podcast where the hosts (two academics who like to dissect the nonsense spewed by Intellectual Dark Web podcasters) had a discussion with Sam Harris. The hosts were skeptical of some of Sam's claimed benefits and takeaways from meditation because it's all internal to one's own mind and therefore unverifiable externally. Sam's response could be boiled down to "so is the retinal blind spot, but I believe that's real." This was still bugging me, mostly because as a former-Mormon, I was raised to think that I could get an internal verification (via the Holy Spirit) of the veracity of <i>The Book of Mormon</i> by reading it and praying about it. I did that, felt something, and for 10 years thought I'd completed some sort of reliable test. I discussed this with a fellow raised-religious now-atheist friend and he said that internal experiences can be valid, but they don't necessarily prove anything about the external world--that has to depend on external evidence. Getting a good feeling from <i>The Book of Mormon </i>doesn't mean that horses, elephants, wheat, steel, and chariots(!) existed in pre-1492 Americas. Nor does it mean that a man propositioning a 14-year old girl by telling her that an angel with a flaming sword told him that he had to practice polygamy or be killed is anything other than a despicable lie, even if he did produce the book I once felt good about. So check the external structure around the internal phenomenon you observe, I guess. Meditation's claims that "You can concentrate better, be nicer, enjoy the present more, and you might feel like there is no self" seem pretty harmless even if were to turn out they were misinterpreting the data somehow. </p><p><b>Getting Started </b><br /></p><p>So off I went. Amy dropped me off, I checked in, texted friends to say I'd be out of contact for 10 days, surrendered my phone and wallet, and began the retreat on December 29. You're not allowed to keep your phone or access the outside world in any fashion (pretty nice during a pandemic), and you're not supposed to even take notes or write a journal, so most of what follows is from memory, but a bunch of the basics are openly described on their website (dhamma.org).<br /></p><p>The first evening started with dinner and an orientation meeting, then we were assigned our permanent meditation spots in the main hall, we made some vows and did our first meditation session. We committed to a strict code of silence (Noble Silence); I think we also committed to not leaving until the 10 days are up, to staying strictly within the property boundary, and to adhere to strict separation of the sexes. </p><p>The vows are:</p><ol><li>
to abstain from killing any being;</li><li>
to abstain from stealing;</li><li>
to abstain from all sexual activity;</li><li>
to abstain from telling lies;</li><li>
to abstain from all intoxicants.</li></ol><p>These are all on their website, and you have to read and sign them when you're checking in, so I feel like they did a pretty good job with informed consent. (Unlike, say, the Mormon temple ceremony where you make promises you are not told about in advance, you used to pantomime slitting your own throat if you broke any of these promises, and an old man touched you below your belly button while you were wearing nothing but a sheet over your head open from the sides... so to me the meditation retreat felt positively on the up and up). One man did leave the retreat early, so it's not like they do anything insane to keep you there. It's just an arduous mental effort, not a fun vacation, so if you're not up for it, you leave. </p><p>The student body was fairly diverse. There were about 25-30 men, and a similar number or few more women. I think the center can hold a few more people than that, but likely due to Covid complications, they didn't fill it to the brim. The men were about half white, the other half South Asian, East Asian, with a couple Blacks. The women seemed like half white, half East Asian (though the separation of the sexes was strict, so I mostly only saw them out of the side of my eye in the main meditation hall.) At least half the men were first-time Goenka retreat students, the others had done as many as 5 previous retreats. They for sure had better sitting posture, and they were seated at the front of the meditation hall. I would guess I was slightly towards the older end of the spectrum, with maybe a half dozen 50+ men and a majority thirty-somethings. <br /></p><p>The next 10 days all followed the same schedule:
</p><table class="CoD-timetable"><tbody><tr><td>4:00 am
</td><td> </td><td>
Morning wake-up bell
</td></tr><tr>
<td>
4:30-6:30 am
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Meditate in the hall or in your room
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
6:30-8:00 am
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Breakfast break
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
8:00-9:00 am
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Group meditation in the hall
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
9:00-11:00 am
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Meditate in the hall or in your room according to the
teacher's instructions
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
11:00-12:00 noon
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Lunch break
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
12 noon-1:00 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Rest and interviews with the teacher
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
1:00-2:30 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Meditate in the hall or in your room
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
2:30-3:30 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Group meditation in the hall
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
3:30-5:00 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Meditate in the hall or in your own room according to the
teacher's instructions
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
5:00-6:00 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Tea break
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
6:00-7:00 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Group meditation in the hall
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
7:00-8:15 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Teacher's Discourse in the hall
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
8:15-9:00 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Group meditation in the hall
</td>
</tr><tr>
<td>
9:00-9:30 pm
</td>
<td> </td>
<td>
Question time in the hall
</td>
</tr><tr><td>
9:30 pm
</td><td> </td><td>
Retire to your own room--Lights out
</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Yep, that's 11 hours of meditation a day--12 if you count the discourses. From a blog entry I'd read I was aware that the physical task of sitting comfortably was going to be a challenge. So I made sure to grab a variety of extra cushions and a stool on day two. There are enough to go around, but pickings got a little slim by the end because meditation spots don't change so everyone left their cushions in the same spot all week.</p><p>The meditation is either in the main group meditation hall or in your own room. Rooms are mostly small single rooms with private bathrooms, though I think younger students are actually in a building with double rooms. The buildings have 8 (12?) rooms each. Then there's the dining room, and a walking path. You go between your room, the dining hall, the meditation hall, and a 1/5 mile walking loop, and that's it. There's also the teachers residence, the women's half of the complex, and the kitchen staff quarters, but you're not supposed to go there. The grounds are small, but they're really nice (thank God). I spent a lot of time observing desert fauna, and actually gathered a small quantity of fallen seeds during the breaks to plant in my greenhouse. I surrendered my smartphone, but my only watch is my Coros GPS watch, so I did record a few of my walking laps and uploaded them to Strava when the course was over. No running, just walking. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgBJqXhFQU36h3E5ETJgA6hD3TBj92ktoqboWBAURSm0a2s6d-e4liUlclvMO_zRTmC_rFlqMAqgY7nIhhQyqzK-zxxCKZst5vm_V4vp9YZFxNyD2NyogmA5eJyKIJ9cgthRruMkkM0hwhpq6Se9C9MXieDhXh-8dJjFNpmGeos2T91VJG2e8=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgBJqXhFQU36h3E5ETJgA6hD3TBj92ktoqboWBAURSm0a2s6d-e4liUlclvMO_zRTmC_rFlqMAqgY7nIhhQyqzK-zxxCKZst5vm_V4vp9YZFxNyD2NyogmA5eJyKIJ9cgthRruMkkM0hwhpq6Se9C9MXieDhXh-8dJjFNpmGeos2T91VJG2e8=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Landscaping</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-9CDRG1C1e5_EMyIk_s8hjCAn9n6KyPMx29rG15iK1SgCaEN-j1oWtFHcGxS8WCWXithSr_MlmZBUXQ18u3a6du16_ULoOERH7E8naoRCr8fljQMYjMKO-AvUWPmPH6DXNR1Q9lGyWls3wcPWbD9XgpsNZ1uUpc6ljMHFxhCoC0VcZ_NwT94=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-9CDRG1C1e5_EMyIk_s8hjCAn9n6KyPMx29rG15iK1SgCaEN-j1oWtFHcGxS8WCWXithSr_MlmZBUXQ18u3a6du16_ULoOERH7E8naoRCr8fljQMYjMKO-AvUWPmPH6DXNR1Q9lGyWls3wcPWbD9XgpsNZ1uUpc6ljMHFxhCoC0VcZ_NwT94=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meditation Hall<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgm8o8Am3H4Uod_Ji94VYBko3vFaaDj72G5G43a7dxpjFqMxAfyRqZGEJa4QB_hxvHcyYtLVyfpJnb214QleSiS9RvqUAi-DZ3AimOjbr5E9Jl2Op_uFB7Iun4CMwgFeeuBwEup02fm2vzVLg9_pj_fFuHGsl3826KxS89O06b0HOSHt8R5bxA=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgm8o8Am3H4Uod_Ji94VYBko3vFaaDj72G5G43a7dxpjFqMxAfyRqZGEJa4QB_hxvHcyYtLVyfpJnb214QleSiS9RvqUAi-DZ3AimOjbr5E9Jl2Op_uFB7Iun4CMwgFeeuBwEup02fm2vzVLg9_pj_fFuHGsl3826KxS89O06b0HOSHt8R5bxA=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meditation Hall cleaned and ready for next retreat<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibP4NHZr45XQeMYgvnw4I9oGzQnp15uEqBAxKnortpGJNYkwMgwdszAebvkIihABHwDmRiPZg_6_9uFTEEBmLkgj8hfe19-tO8Brfr8IrsDzkgwDDf4R7IqxeSC57cVOP6d-GDeTLnX6ndhq5Nhz3z7dagGNkrLFIAHopI2Pifc5igZlq89iQ=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibP4NHZr45XQeMYgvnw4I9oGzQnp15uEqBAxKnortpGJNYkwMgwdszAebvkIihABHwDmRiPZg_6_9uFTEEBmLkgj8hfe19-tO8Brfr8IrsDzkgwDDf4R7IqxeSC57cVOP6d-GDeTLnX6ndhq5Nhz3z7dagGNkrLFIAHopI2Pifc5igZlq89iQ=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My building<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8lxcDh2FwuZS0_e1k63XfqA3WYNXQcZ-mgGF7A2ayLYUrmgEabsqrAbnHuHD4IHL-JTL0-i8CyfLiVd3RVgA-Oq9lN2TUOQtos4V2bLLCePpDqmjuH9ZKUpEoctdjFYd4aZjRoxWlyLKq39nBHZeKCA7Mcai94BNg4_E4q6YG8XKwKtCYmU4=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8lxcDh2FwuZS0_e1k63XfqA3WYNXQcZ-mgGF7A2ayLYUrmgEabsqrAbnHuHD4IHL-JTL0-i8CyfLiVd3RVgA-Oq9lN2TUOQtos4V2bLLCePpDqmjuH9ZKUpEoctdjFYd4aZjRoxWlyLKq39nBHZeKCA7Mcai94BNg4_E4q6YG8XKwKtCYmU4=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My room<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbYxdBWpFOVCcNg_EhCmr05vtnwd6JDsSriJjqzcCpfwMCQodIHaZhlrNBxB98O29FawleWQAvVTEEtcsDjwCCdaP0eMwNKJx3TiB-eoZuOevCTnQl2o7mFOk2pQtmPmeIM69z8x1Z7xaD9__AL6eZ8Cuy9nbOMsKQAzXo3kuUcjBJwlM0Bzc=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbYxdBWpFOVCcNg_EhCmr05vtnwd6JDsSriJjqzcCpfwMCQodIHaZhlrNBxB98O29FawleWQAvVTEEtcsDjwCCdaP0eMwNKJx3TiB-eoZuOevCTnQl2o7mFOk2pQtmPmeIM69z8x1Z7xaD9__AL6eZ8Cuy9nbOMsKQAzXo3kuUcjBJwlM0Bzc=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like the desert<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><b>The Food</b> <br /></p><p>Meals were... well, they were meals. They're advertised as simple vegetarian meals, and they are that. They say they can't accommodate other diets, but it was extremely easy to be strictly vegan, and gluten free, Kosher, Halal I think would all have been easy as well. On the last day when Noble Silence was over, I was having a conversation about the food, and I was about to start ripping into it ("So bland!") but kept my mouth shut because everyone else raved about it ("Did you know the recipes are all online?!"). Why would you ever steam a vegetable when you could roast it? Does your oven not get hot enough? Are you unaware that olive oil and salt exist? Garlic? Onions? My conclusion is that even as a vegan, I and many of my elitist Bay Area friends
eat really well, even better than other people I thought would have been
food snobs too, and when serving a large number of people, bland is the
way to make it palatable to the largest number. </p><p>Full breakfast, full lunch, dinner is just tea and fruit. On day three when I walked in for breakfast and the hot item was the same oatmeal with stewed prunes, and would be the same every day, my hear sank to the floor, but there was also corn flakes, granola, yogurt, and toast with butter, peanut butter, and jam, so it was fine. Lunch was always different, with a main, multiple sides, vegetables, and a respectable salad bar. </p><p>There were nine types of teas or coffee that were always available at all meals. Amy and I love the morning coffee ritual (she even more than me) so she grinds beans by hand in our Japanese grinder every morning and makes French press or moka pot every day. Going in, I was worried that I had gotten hooked on caffeine, as I had started drinking it every morning instead of just a few times a week. However at the retreat I didn't feel the need for caffeine. Importantly, the only coffee was Folger's instant. I tried it once and it was (obviously) awful, like burnt aluminum. There a Postum-like coffee alternative, but that was even more disgusting, like burnt black carbon toast shavings. And it has no caffeine, so what is the point? I tried the black and green tea, but they didn't taste nearly as good as the herbal teas, and I was getting up every hour during the night to pee, so I cut caffeine to zero to try and help with that (it didn't work.) Anyway, don't expect good coffee. But maybe don't expect to need it like you do in regular life?<br /></p><p><b>The Meditation</b> <br /></p><p>Arrival was day zero. Then days one and two were about focusing on the breath (Anapana meditation). It's not a breathing exercise, you just observe your breath (through your nose; no mouth-breathing). When your mind wanders (which it will), just notice that and return your attention to your breath. Don't berate yourself, just begin again. "Smilingly, begin again." If you need to, to clear your mind you can take a few deliberately slightly heavier breaths, but really, just breath normally and observe that. All day for at least two days. With an N-95 mask on.<br /></p><p>On day three we switched to focusing on sensation in the small area around your nose above your upper lip.<br /></p><p>Then day four through day nine were Vipassana, which to Goenka means body scanning. All body-scanning, all day. That means you are aware of physical sensations on a specific part of your body. You're just aware of it. Don't crave good sensations, don't be averse to bad sensations. Just be OK with it, or in Goenka's terminology, be equanimous. Be aware, and be equanimous, and notice that the sensation will change, or go away, because everything changes. Everything is impermanent. Day four it was each part, part by part, from head to toe. Day five it went to head to toe and then back up, toes back to your head. Then day six it went from individual part by part to sensing multiple parts of your body at the same time, symmetricly, like both upper arms, or both sides of your chest. Then day seven we started mixing in flow with the part by part scanning. Just flowing symmetrically down your body and back up. Then day eight it was more flow. Day nine was more flow. Down and back up. Down and back up. Oh and by the way you might enter this state called banga where your sense of self completely dissolves. And then day ten we were basically done but at the end of each session you can add a little Metta (loving-kindness). We went home on day 11. <br /></p><p>Sounds like a <i>lot</i> of meditation, right? It was. </p><p>The breathing (Anapana) days were fine for me, except that obviously my mind wanders and I start thinking about whatever stupid policy at work I disagree with, or how Joe Manchin and Krysten Sinema suck (actually I lucked out and didn't think about them at all, I don't think, but work policies for sure). But that's just what happens. I'm kind of used to that. Just begin again. I was a little concerned the N-95 mask would be a crutch, since it
clearly makes sensations and breath on your face easier to notice, but that ended up not being a big deal.</p><p>The scanning I was not used to. The guided meditation I've heard on apps from Joseph Goldstein, for example, instructs you to just notice whatever you notice about any of the physical sensations in your body, not to go in any deliberate order, and it also instructs you to pay attention to sounds, or things you see (even though your eyes are closed). So this deliberate down, up, down up, top of my head, forehead, eyebrows, nose, lips, chin, throat, left shoulder, left pec, right pec, abs, etc. etc. (see I can't even type them all out) down, up, down up down up downup downupdownup downupdownupdownup was exhausting. So exhausting. So hard. I wasn't sure I was doing it right. Are you sure we're not supposed to observe sounds? Are you sure we're not supposed to do this outside? Is this working? Is this thing on? Hello?</p><p>The sitting I was not used to. That should be obvious from my near-complete lack of meditation experience or bodily flexibility (I run but I don't stretch). Starting with day four, as soon as we started Vipassana, we also started doing three "Sittings of Strong Determination" each day, meaning that the main three group meditation sessions 8:00am, 2:30pm, and 6:00pm, you were not supposed to move your arms, hands, or legs, nor open your eyes for the entire hour. Before we got to that point, my back was getting pretty sore, so I asked if I could sit against the back wall. They suggested I try a back-jack floor chair first (imagine a fairly sturdy bleacher chair), and that totally solved it. They initially placed it on top of a cushion, and I had to figure out that you should really put it directly on the floor, otherwise it will lean too far back, but because of this chair, the Strong Determination sitting was not a problem. </p><p>Perhaps this even made it too easy, since while scanning I wasn't sure I was doing it right, and often felt like I was feeling nothing, but you're not supposed to search for a sensation, or any specific sensation, and so I'm sensing nothing, and my mind is wandering, and wait, my eyeballs are moving in their socket in the direction of the part I'm scanning, so am I doing this on an entirely incorrect physical level when it's all supposed to be mental? What is going on? Is this hour up yet? It's got to be close, right? C'mon, man, it's got to be! I've done three complete scans and went off on at least three fantasy thought spirals, it's got to be at least 45 minutes right? We're close, buddy, just hang in there.</p><p>So through midday on day nine, I was thinking this really wasn't for me. First, this was <i>Buddhist</i> Buddhist meditation: the sensations you're feeling are caused by sankhara that come from your past lives. That literal reincarnation teaching is what leads to a few negative online reviews, but I was prepared for that, and Goenka even says when he introduces the idea that you don't really have to believe it--you've got plenty of garbage built up from your own current life that you've got more than enough work to do--and no one at the retreat actually said anything dependent on that belief, so that wasn't a big mental stumbling block for me. Second, this was <i>Goenka</i> meditation. SN Goenka is just one guy, that's his name. Or was, since he passed away in 2013. But he is still the star of the show. There were two assistant teachers at the front of the room, one man, one woman. Mostly all they did wait until everyone was seated, then press play on an audio recording of instruction or a video discourse from Goenka himself. They also control the lights in the meditation hall. Mostly they press play, then when it's over they conduct things by saying "All students may now continue to meditate here or in their own rooms" or "Take a short break, then return for tonight's discourse." Slightly less than once a day they do have about four students come up at a time and they ask you how the specific meditation practice of the day is going, and you can get two or three sentences of instruction. You can also ask questions one on one after lunch, where you get at most five minutes. (You're allowed to speak to the instructor, and there's also a returning student acting as course manager in case your toilet is clogged or the heater stopped working or whatever, you're just not allowed to talk to, touch, or make eye contact with the other regular students).</p><p>So all the instruction is coming from Goenka. The discourses (evening video lectures) were filmed in 1991. The camerawork is atrocious. They zoom in and cut off his gesturing hands, realize they zoomed in on the wrong spot, and yank the camera to the side. He clears his throat. He sniffles. He coughs. Students in the 1991 audience cough. I know dealing with distraction is part of the game, but part of the instruction also specifically says not to meditate outside, nor with your eyes open, because the slightest breeze is too distracting. Well, terrible AV quality pleghmy coughing snorts are <i>also </i>distracting. And who is this Goenka fellow? He seems nice enough, but there's clearly multiple takes on Vipassana meditation, both the theory and the practice, and we're not getting any diversity of opinion, it's just all Goenka, all body-scanning, all the time. There's also chanting, or what sounds to me like a fat man's death rattle. For half an hour in the morning (but thankfully you can meditate in your room instead for that session) and for about five minutes at the beginning and/or end of many other sessions. It does not sound good. The tempo will change seemingly randomly, or there will be random periods of silence lulling you into thinking it's over before BBBBBBBBBB! an obese person is having respiratory issues over the PA system again. And there's no attempt to translate almost any of what is chanted, so I just suffered. <br /></p><p></p><p>Lastly, the gender stuff is a little weird. There are two assistant teachers, one man, one woman, and the woman assistant teacher will address the women, and answers their questions, but never speaks to the male students. The male assistant teacher, however, addresses all students. And Goenka's discourses start with him and his wife sitting on a dais, but she never moves, nor says anything, and he (maybe, English isn't his first language, so who knows) makes a fat joke about her in one of them. Later I was told that there's no rule about lead assistant teachers always being male, that's just the way the seniority rule played out in our situation. But given that there's no explanation for any of this, and next to no opportunity to discuss it, that's what many fellow new students assumed. <br /></p><p>So I'm barely hanging in there. Every morning, My alarm goes off at 4am and I think, "I don't have to be meditating till 4:30, surely I could have slept 20 more minutes" but I eventually get out of bed, do a quick prison workout of pushups, squats, and jumping jacks. (Exercise isn't forbidden, though running is, and there's just nowhere to do it, really, but they do have a few spare yoga mats you can use in your room.) Then I'd meditate. I nodded off a few times meditating in my room, but never for whole sessions. I just thought, OK, this might be the only chance I get at this, I'm not going to quit, and those 7 days of PTO you had to use are gone, so sack up and do this! Back a little straighter, a few slightly harder breaths to return focus, and I'm back to scanning. </p><p>I had a couple nice experiences, but mostly carefully observing nature, not while meditating itself. A hummingbird and I had a close encounter. The bees loved this one flowering tree. The stars were incredible (it's the desert and we were right around a new moon). Best of all I left a meditation session and observed two rabbits playing, and kissing, then scampering away. Very nice, but the scanning wasn't doing it for me. <br /></p><p>Then day nine. It was the last full day of Vipassana; we'd been told it was our last full day to work hard, and that we'd be taught a new technique on day 10. The afternoon sitting of strong determination mostly went OK. I felt pretty happy, and I thought about Norm MacDonald's moth joke, and I almost started giggling because I couldn't for the life of me remember the punchline. Isn't it something about a pun to do with the word "lepidopterist"? (No.) Mostly things were good but not great. Can't I be observing sound too? Is it bad that my eyes are moving inside my head? Is this thing on? </p><p>Then, with five minutes to go, at the end of the session, Goenka's chanting came on the PA, and I disappeared. My self completely dissolved. I was a many ton rock, or just part of the massive Earth, or maybe just a void, immovable, but shimmering. For the few minutes of chanting, I was gone. When it was done and people getting up to take a break, well, oh no! someone is going to have to come and move me, because I can't move myself because I don't exist anymore. Finally enough distractions occurred that I existed again. I stood outside in shock for a few minutes, then returned to meditating. I felt an energy going up and down, and then at the end of the session the gong rang for tea and the sound traveled through me not like regular sound waves, but like vibrations or wave it really is. I walked outside and saw the tail end of a shimmering sunset and thought "Wait, there are drugs that make your self disappear? Why are we not all taking those all the time?!" I went to dinner and had an amazing apple (also a very bad under-ripe banana) but I was enjoying that apple like Emil Hirsch in that scene in <i>Into the Wild. </i>After tea there were two more sessions. My legs felt like vibrations and I sensed a flow up and down my whole
body. Then I remembered an instruction the Goenka had said only once or
twice--to try sensing inside your body instead of on the surface, like
in your spine. Holy shit my spine. I plugged it in and it lit up
glowing. Any time there was chanting, instead of my usual negative reaction to hearing an obese man die slowly, I just felt vibrations and welcomed them to the party. When people in the room coughed or made a noise, it was as if parts of the same whole were communicating.</p><p>At 9:00pm when meditating was all over I walked several laps around the path to try and digest what had just happened. Well, for sure I'm going to have to be less judgmental when people say "vibrations" or "energy," because even if "sending you good vibrations!" might not <i>do </i>anything, it certainly <i>felt</i> like it did, or at least I couldn't think of any better words to describe it. Maybe people who are high sound dumb to sober people, even though those same sober people would use the same words to describe the event if they themselves got high. And is this all elevation emotion? I haven't read the psychology literature (Jonathon Haidt seems to have popularized the term, and there's a number of papers in the <i>Journal of Positive Psychology</i>), but ex-mormons love to talk about how the Holy Spirit is just elevation emotion, an observable and explainable, if understudied phenomenon. Maybe this was that too? It follows the same outline of a group setting with some positive moral teachings and expectations of some sort of altered mental state after a difficult test. And maybe when I was a Mormon missionary and everybody would blow me off by saying there's more than one way to get to the top of a mountain, GTFO with this one-true-path nonsense, maybe they're on to something because the top is this feeling? <br /></p><p>I had trouble sleeping. Did they break my brain? Am I going to get my old one back? Can I continue to be a normal person?</p><p>Finally the next morning we were taught Metta (loving-kindness) meditation and the first couple times I said the mantra "May all beings be happy, may all beings be peaceful, may all being be liberated," I <i>really </i>felt it. No saccharine, just bliss, and I wanted every being to have it. We only did a little meditation that day, Noble Silence ended, my brain returned to my usual (ab)normal, and we finally introduced ourselves to each other. Assumptions I'd made about people based on their clothing was incorrect (e.g. guy wearing a hat from an ultra-marathon was not an ultra-marathoner, older British guy with a scarf I turned into an older Brad Pitt from <i>Seven Years in Tibet </i>turned out to be from New Zealand). We had a really nice time talking. No one else seems to have completely dissolved (at least this week--some had on previous retreats), but people had very good experiences, and it was helpful to finally be able to talk to people and hash out your understanding of what was going on. People on the board of the center came and pitched us on donating and staying involved, we had dinner, we did a little more vipassana with a dash of metta at the end of the session, we picked clean-up tasks for the final day, and went to bed. I slept well.</p><p><b>End, Re-Entry</b> <br /></p><p>Early the next morning we watched one final discourse video (Keep it going! Two hours of meditation a day!) and one final meditation session. I was still digging the vipassana, but I was back to my usual critical self during the metta, because Goenka's version is a lot of sloooooooooooooooooooooow chanting. Sooooooo slow. May allllllllllllllllllllll being be haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaappy. With random length breaks such that you might think he's done, but no, wait he's back, and now wait, it's just audio, but you can tell he's getting up and walking out of the room--instead of just editing the master to turn down the volume, you get to hear him walk out of a room slowly in 1991. Despite my normal negativity about that I was very much enjoying being around people, so I arranged a ride home with one of the many people heading west to LA rather than walking home so I could chat for longer. I walked several laps around the whole complex, including the women's and teacher's areas that I never been to, and went home and played with the dogs.<br /></p><p>It's now been five days. I had the house to myself for a day, which was probably good. I worked in the greenhouse all afternoon Sunday, had a stressful interaction at the dog park and maybe handled it better than I would have previously but clearly wasn't ready for it. Monday there was immediately a very difficult situation at work where I felt I needed to take a firm stance against management on something. I think I handled it well,but it was not enjoyable. An old student told me they'd learned through experience it was best to take a day off at home before going back to work; that's quite likely a good idea. Anyway, it turns out there's still a pandemic, so there's nowhere to go. I've been busy writing code for the race lottery I run, and apparently I need to decide whether I want to buy rooftop solar panels <i>right now</i> because the state utilities commission is going to neuter the incentives at the end of the month. I still haven't had coffee or alcohol. Dry January? Life goes on.<br /></p><p>Am I glad I did it? Absolutely.</p><p>Would I do it again? Yes, but I think I might try a different, i.e. non-Goenka, retreat center next, e.g. Insight Meditation Center, Insight Meditation Society, InsightLA, or Spirit Rock (I'm going to try and react to that name with equanimity). A lot of people repeat Goenka retreats, but it would be the exact same instruction; same audio, same videos. It would almost certainly produce a different result, but other retreats include at least a little walking meditation, which sounds like it would appeal to me. Goenka emphasized that meditation should be a practice, not an intellectual curiosity, so you shouldn't bounce around from practice to practice but instead stick with one and just do it. He did say trying two or three things before settling down was fine, but more importantly, I never agreed to use only his method, so I can do whatever I want.</p><p>Would I recommend it? Yes. One of ~30 people left early and everyone I spoke with at the end had a positive experience. I don't recommend it for everyone; I might have recommended it for ever fewer had I not experienced dissolution, and I want to be clear that you might not experience it, you probably won't get there if you crave it, and I may never experience it again (especially if I crave it), but still it was a worthwhile experience. It's <i>very</i> difficult though. Not for the faint of heart.</p><p>Anything I'd do differently? I'd bring my own yoga mat for exercising in my room, and I'd bring slippers since you're constantly taking your shoes on and off before going into the meditation hall.</p><p>Oh, and what <i>does</i> it mean that there is no self? There is no rider on the horse. The way I understand it, there is no single point, no massless one-dimensional point in your brain that controls your thoughts or actions. At best, there's a bunch of competing areas of the brain fighting for control, you can do objective lab experiments that show just plain bananas things occurring when one part of your brain experiences something and another doesn't, and consciousness is not very well understood and it feels like it comes from a single point inside your skull, but that's not clear. There is no soul, and there is no secular version of it; we're all just collections of particles that are all connected somehow. Side note, there may not be free will. Feel free to think everything I just wrote is word salad, it's better experienced anyway. <br /></p><p>Okay but what's the point? What do I do with that? If there's no self and everything is connected in some way (and especially if there's no free will), then there's no reason to be so judgmental of other people. Maybe be generous and feel love for all beings instead.</p><p>So am I Buddhist now? Sure, whatever. I guess I'm a secular Buddhist. But that's like saying I'm a small-increases-to-the-minimum-wage-don't-cause-large-increases-in-unemployment-ist. I looked at the statistics and it seemed reasonable. But it seems like more of a practice than anything else. So maybe it's like saying I'm an heirloom-beans-ist. Have you ever cooked a pot of heirloom beans, like from Rancho Gordo? With some bay leaves one of your best friends picked for you from the Berkeley hills, and salt, garlic, and an onion, slow, on the stovetop all day long? I've got a pot going right now, and it smells and tastes delicious. I don't eat it every day, but yeah, I'm an heirloom-beans-ist. I'm currently a member of the Rancho Gordo Bean of the Month Club, but I don't think they're the only beans out there, nor the only thing to eat for dinner. If you do A, B will happen, because of C. Well, I did A, and B happened, but that's not proof that C was the reason, nor that B would always happen if you did A.<br /></p><p>What next? Running, meditating more, trying to get off the hedonic treadmill. Same as it ever was, perhaps with a skosh more equanimity.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOPWlz4EQ1xPnIu5NXwEbFM52MQUZBMmJxc-jrhFBbsPvyfloQcBXR_grRA_baCaewTmRcmCaN6qcas1HRlPSMtmjKc_cAK_o_KibBIfvci8W2_wJR8zdFPaXkcYMjjht037W5OSFovip2JCOICoNNFFmWeWrrhFCSsztlTvGRVdLR2ngK0n0=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOPWlz4EQ1xPnIu5NXwEbFM52MQUZBMmJxc-jrhFBbsPvyfloQcBXR_grRA_baCaewTmRcmCaN6qcas1HRlPSMtmjKc_cAK_o_KibBIfvci8W2_wJR8zdFPaXkcYMjjht037W5OSFovip2JCOICoNNFFmWeWrrhFCSsztlTvGRVdLR2ngK0n0=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Path<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-71226950023253266682022-01-12T01:44:00.004-05:002022-01-12T01:59:35.607-05:002021 Running Review and a PR<p> 2021 is over, even if the pandemic isn't. </p><p>Strava says I ran 2654 miles and gained 315,000 feet of vertical over 573 hours. That's the most miles I've ever run, about 50 more than in 2019. Coming off an injury year and still in a pandemic, I'm very happy about that. And at the end, I was very happy to pull off a PR. More on that below.<br /></p><p>I ran 8 races:</p><p>Canyons 100K (16:00)</p><p>Capital Backyard (25 hours, 104.16 miles)</p><p>Black Hills 100M (28:32)</p><p>Kodiak 100K (17:40)</p><p>Mogollon Monster 100M (31:42)</p><p>Cuyamuca 100K (14:11)</p><p>Euchre Bar Massacre (Missed cutoff after 5 Hills, like usual)</p><p>California International Marathon (2:59:18, <b>PR!</b>)</p><p>I never wrote up reports on Cuyamuca or Euchre Bar. I started training seriously for CIM right after Mogollon Monster, so I wasn't even sure why I had signed up for Cuyamuca, but I was glad I did it. It was a really pretty drive there through some places I'd never been, it was easy camping in the car walking distance from the start, and it was a pretty, runnable course on a gorgeous day with three different loops all passing through the start/finish, where a friend who was crewing and pacing someone else helped me out. It was just a nice day.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_GtjIULcFLTtU-n87TETDwB0Lrsz7m7w5Ba21v7EsPm7XIgPRqr6HHRkGYXfSYSK02n0he_z6PRwGVrXCiRbB_aN5QuYzOhD1hAHMrykuNdHxWa51JCkwRcd-P8tB_-CgqobffSFabYdV3g9mz7T22yrZWoNxN_MApUyRMtLVcjyQJGAJi0I=s4608" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_GtjIULcFLTtU-n87TETDwB0Lrsz7m7w5Ba21v7EsPm7XIgPRqr6HHRkGYXfSYSK02n0he_z6PRwGVrXCiRbB_aN5QuYzOhD1hAHMrykuNdHxWa51JCkwRcd-P8tB_-CgqobffSFabYdV3g9mz7T22yrZWoNxN_MApUyRMtLVcjyQJGAJi0I=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpsbIV6noFF5-roJQuEy-UU7fYLP_OlTD3RSWQSOYoDShTh27jn-q3ORIo3YyjS0E-Iv-zZX5mZghn55ElvHmKfxVbW8RUo5PpCYZqc85q397Rh_ogGTbpIndKDHgj02fLyeYnm5jPjqpoLkiG5XrOOj7E1jXi_MZQEEa38abV7v1maXa33-w=s4608" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpsbIV6noFF5-roJQuEy-UU7fYLP_OlTD3RSWQSOYoDShTh27jn-q3ORIo3YyjS0E-Iv-zZX5mZghn55ElvHmKfxVbW8RUo5PpCYZqc85q397Rh_ogGTbpIndKDHgj02fLyeYnm5jPjqpoLkiG5XrOOj7E1jXi_MZQEEa38abV7v1maXa33-w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh04kRTWwTzcvzp43AeWKll0OqAiw9Mlk9U9KQ0KixyGD7MPU9eiMQXgLMUklV9l-ebxMBCdGuTihWWc3MCPtneBnrFLsVMRinEpQ8yzEs1jGbIUB1_CSQ_5dJspeQBh0LmjH_895cCVPOf97_hH9GOUFNX2XptEyw9uBTWP27LbuYDzo8LkOc=s2304" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh04kRTWwTzcvzp43AeWKll0OqAiw9Mlk9U9KQ0KixyGD7MPU9eiMQXgLMUklV9l-ebxMBCdGuTihWWc3MCPtneBnrFLsVMRinEpQ8yzEs1jGbIUB1_CSQ_5dJspeQBh0LmjH_895cCVPOf97_hH9GOUFNX2XptEyw9uBTWP27LbuYDzo8LkOc=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Euchre Bar Massacre was amazing as always. There was a nice new segment of trail along a cliff side and I had a much better experience on the dreaded Sawtalian climb compared to two years ago. (Stay left!) The fact that I drove all the way up the day before and all the way down the day after kind of tainted the weekend, but the run itself was delightful, even if I did miss a cutoff around 11PM as usual.</p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMdRqNQY7RE5uQfCck7HTNlPuPSAoPUQH7itHMo0KV__sImtJxLmmfGIuULMhTYcTCAXhV05tfGPBwQlL8YNdSrzbCGhxy3WnHp73ufOJW_kgGYQXqBVYnr6LFazXoxMXzhSKnighVmqiJGRN99Qz7CCbr0Z5l7PMdujXjkt7VnusPSYnAIts=s4608" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMdRqNQY7RE5uQfCck7HTNlPuPSAoPUQH7itHMo0KV__sImtJxLmmfGIuULMhTYcTCAXhV05tfGPBwQlL8YNdSrzbCGhxy3WnHp73ufOJW_kgGYQXqBVYnr6LFazXoxMXzhSKnighVmqiJGRN99Qz7CCbr0Z5l7PMdujXjkt7VnusPSYnAIts=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">North Fork</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhucsWTvWa0kVa95TYG9KJmc9O0lS4Lh0E0z9RZYg6Y6rJLQK4IO6Zg3WdrjA-x3duNnRFep122IRM5-50fFR5WeK_LgQsinsxwhAytniehOFyY6FAv5pjZPe5uU7A0xG0OoHRElSCdISzYWAx_7dXbGjMXw0kY-1pTLryGpUNb4ROA7SIMTNw=s2304" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhucsWTvWa0kVa95TYG9KJmc9O0lS4Lh0E0z9RZYg6Y6rJLQK4IO6Zg3WdrjA-x3duNnRFep122IRM5-50fFR5WeK_LgQsinsxwhAytniehOFyY6FAv5pjZPe5uU7A0xG0OoHRElSCdISzYWAx_7dXbGjMXw0kY-1pTLryGpUNb4ROA7SIMTNw=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">North Fork of the North Fork<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I ran these races on weekends while doing deliberate speed workouts during the week. Then November it was all marathon training. A track workout, a tempo workout, and a long run each week. I wasn't making my goal pace, and I didn't quite get in the training runs I wanted because of a trip to DC and a leaky roof at my house there, but I was pretty close. I figured I was headed for a 3:05 race. But the week before the race, I realized I was close, so why not go for it? If I went out easy in the first half, I'm just not the type to be able to make up time in the second half. (And who runs a massive negative split in a marathon?) And if I went out too fast and blew up, who cares? I've run 100+ marathons or ultras, what do I care if I have a lousy second half and run a 3:12 instead of a 3:05? The only thing I'm going to care about is a PR. </p><p>So I went for it. I started at 3-hour pace right off the bat. It got hard in the second half, but there was a team of runners from the Bay Area (Team Burn) all wearing matching uniforms with fan support, and I hung on to them for dear life. 2:59:18. My second sub-3 and a PR by 22 seconds. Amy also ran her second marathon, first in nearly 10 years, and finished sub-5, especially good given she didn't have nearly any time for training. <br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyd8ZesESBnCal-12Hh7X9He3BBk0gjjd5m2mQyGCHxPuQLjNXkTJam4r9EqCRzZsoS61JO0MLH9B8' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Me crossing the finish line<br /> <p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCKe2hlR2EnmkNnxclpdg_nvA8SH_X7UuRAV3tSFjiqmguaQetWoyUSNyPSHzdyQMKf5p8EwTK88gGfgUAYlPM3p8SGvjOJTuSkEvdzMFOBfHVHqhTulG6hvtkr-zIBQ6SOuWak2Kz9ClzkwMhUABI44NApanDBngAF50yWmmvK14v-k-S98U=s2304" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCKe2hlR2EnmkNnxclpdg_nvA8SH_X7UuRAV3tSFjiqmguaQetWoyUSNyPSHzdyQMKf5p8EwTK88gGfgUAYlPM3p8SGvjOJTuSkEvdzMFOBfHVHqhTulG6hvtkr-zIBQ6SOuWak2Kz9ClzkwMhUABI44NApanDBngAF50yWmmvK14v-k-S98U=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">State Capitol after Finishing</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>So what's on tap for 2022? I've got some ideas (see my previous post). As far as centerpieces go, a longer backpacking trip (such as to Alaska) doesn't seem to be in the works, and right now I'm leaning towards a race or possibly two in Europe, and right now I'm especially excited about a big 200+ mile race like Tor des Geants. That's lottery-dependent, so maybe Swiss Peaks 360K could serve as a backup </p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-46608550894645982462021-12-23T16:17:00.002-05:002021-12-23T16:22:54.792-05:00Help Me Narrow It Down?<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBDfVxnAf-PpQ7CDmBSb1pd4jLWR82PxdowU4I0YqvQkmTpopILFl59DqpIMclw-xMZUZgY4CgW6YueMgWW04ndhmGSkbsZUI0PlRToZQXHzx5-a8Xf-6M8mQ1ft08558jJx8ABA1wj649Opd-cnLgnvMphUCmSokO3VX2e_JZ3kcXq2AUllA=s2304" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="selfie in JTree" border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBDfVxnAf-PpQ7CDmBSb1pd4jLWR82PxdowU4I0YqvQkmTpopILFl59DqpIMclw-xMZUZgY4CgW6YueMgWW04ndhmGSkbsZUI0PlRToZQXHzx5-a8Xf-6M8mQ1ft08558jJx8ABA1wj649Opd-cnLgnvMphUCmSokO3VX2e_JZ3kcXq2AUllA=w400-h300" title="JTree Selfie" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />I'll recap 2021 soon, but what should I run in 2022? As per usual, I'd like to run about one race a month, but I don't mind stringing together back to back weekends if it makes for a nice vacation. I didn't get into States or Hardrock, and I don't have major hiking plans, since my usual hiking partner did get in. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">For the first time I'm thinking about a European race. Likely at most one trip to conserve PTO for a trip to Alaska sometime in the future, but I put a bunch of the UTMB World Series races on the list--they look gorgeous.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm assuming I'll be based in Southern California, but that depends on a lot. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Anybody have any thoughts? <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Bold</b>=already signed up, or just mandatory; *=Western States qualifier <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">
Jan 23: Calico 30K/50K (about as local as a race gets) </span></p><p>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Feb 5: Sean O’Brien 100K* </b><br />
Feb 13: Black Canyon 100K*<br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
<b>March: Barkley</b> (waitlisted, very unlikely--2023 or 2024 more likely)<br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
April 3: Cherry Blossom 10 Miler (Great time to be in Washington DC)</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
April 7-10: <a href="https://www.istria100.com/" target="_blank">Istria 100M</a> (Croatia. I know nothing about this, but isn't Croatia supposed to be beautiful?) <br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
May 2-7: Cocodona 250 ($1395+ yikes!)<br />
May 21: Bishop High Sierra 50M/100K (Did it a while back. Not too far away.)<br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
June 3: San Diego 100 (Already full, waitlist opens Jan 1. I did this already, but it was a long time ago.)<br />
June 24: <a href="https://www.trail100andorra.com/" target="_blank">Andorra 105K</a> (Since Ronda del Cims is no more, I guess this is as close as it gets.)<br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
July 7-10: <a href="https://www.aranbyutmb.com/en/" target="_blank">Val D’Aran</a> (Spain)<br />
July 8-10: Trail Verbier Saint-Bernard (Switz)<br />
July ~10: Bigfoot 73 (Friends say this is flipping gorgeous. This or Standhope seems most likely.)<br />
July 10-11: Silverton Alpine Marathon & Kendall Mountain Run<br />
July 15-17: Eiger Ultra Trail<br />
July 22-24: <a href="https://standhopeultrachallenge.wordpress.com/standhope-100/" target="_blank">Standhope 100</a> (ID--Course looks amazing, and gf and I have reason to go to ID. Anyone know anything about it?) <br />
July: Desolate Peaks<br />
July 30: Tushars (Did this before and loved it, now that Aravaipa is in charge, I might return.)<br />
<br />
Aug 5-7: <a href="https://www.wonderlandrunning.com/dark-divide/" target="_blank">Dark Divide 100</a> <br />
Aug 20-21: Kodiak 100M (The most local race. I loved the 2021 100K. Would love the full loop.)<br />
Aug 19-21: <a href="https://www.everlongendurance.com/wyomingrange" target="_blank">Wyoming Range 100</a> (Course looks amazing. Anyone know anything about it?)<br />
Aug 22-28: UTMB (Jan 6-18 Lottery)<br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
Sep 2-4: The Rut 50K (Sounds awesome but is traveling worth it for a 50K?) <br />
Sep 8-11: <a href="https://utmb.world/wildstrubel" target="_blank">Wildstrubel</a> (Switz) <br />
Sep 9-10, 2022: Superior 100* (January lottery--odds seem very unlikely.) <br />
Sep 16-17: Run Rabbit Run 100* (filling up! Not a real strong desire unless nothing else works.)<br />Sep 9-18: Tor des Geants (Courmayeur, Italy–February lottery--currently my #1 September choice.)<br />
<b>Sep 17, 2022: Barkley Fall Classic</b> (Already in, but refund policy is pretty good, I think.)<br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
<b>Oct 15: Euchre Bar Massacre</b> (Tenth year. Mandatory.)<br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
Nov 6: NYC Marathon (lottery mid January, unlikely)<br />
Nov 7: Pinhoti 100* <br />
Nov 7: Mountain Masochist (MMTR) 50 (Based on who shows up I want to be part of the club)<br />
Nov 12: Revel Marathon Big Bear (5000' net drop road marathon. Local. Absurd, but maybe fun?) <br />
<br />
Dec 3: <a href="https://www.othtc.com/ultra/index.htm" target="_blank">OTHTC 50K</a> (Pretty local)<br />
Dec 12: Hellgate* (Sounds like solid Type II fun, but a lousy time to be back east.)</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-87061653164425887412021-09-24T10:35:00.001-04:002021-09-24T10:35:16.536-04:00There are dozens of us!<p>For those of you who subscribe to my blog via e-mail, thank you. Also, I was using Feedburner to send those e-mails, but Google stopped supporting that feature this summer, so I switched to Mailchimp. In case I messed something up in the transition, my three recent posts are about <a href="https://garrettheonion.blogspot.com/2021/09/july-adventures.html" target="_blank">my July adventures</a>, the <a href="https://garrettheonion.blogspot.com/2021/09/kodiak-100k.html" target="_blank">Kodiak 100K</a>, and the <a href="https://garrettheonion.blogspot.com/2021/09/mogollon-monster-revenge.html" target="_blank">Mogollon Monster 100</a>. </p><p>If you aren't getting e-mails and you want to, you can subscribe under the menu on the left side. <br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbFYfRu5N6qTy5LAFGnST0631doNr6TBdJMR-dAguluHs211g352SfNYgf1N7x3EYKbAHCcmsYNufejQkkXS59kIPN-FOPP7r98MrtQnjtYKA69hw_WyvCkj4PmWiqLl4P0AL_g/s4608/IMG_20210919_125002091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbFYfRu5N6qTy5LAFGnST0631doNr6TBdJMR-dAguluHs211g352SfNYgf1N7x3EYKbAHCcmsYNufejQkkXS59kIPN-FOPP7r98MrtQnjtYKA69hw_WyvCkj4PmWiqLl4P0AL_g/w480-h640/IMG_20210919_125002091.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's a big Joshua Tree for your troubles<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <br /></p><p><br /></p>The Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16978226838564490246noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23154023.post-21713957913532604632021-09-23T21:13:00.002-04:002021-09-23T21:17:04.515-04:00Mogollon Monster Revenge<p>I finally got revenge against the Mogollon Monster. </p><p>I tried running the race in 2014, but it was cancelled mid-race due to rain. If you prefer I suppose you could call it a thunderstorm, but I'll stick with "rain." You can see my report from that year <a href="https://garrettheonion.blogspot.com/2014/09/42-of-mogollon-monster.html" target="_blank">here</a>. The race is under new management, and both the management and the aid station tents seem much sturdier, so I was confident the race would go off without a hitch.</p><p>Gf and the dogs and I drove to Pine, AZ the day before the race. We were mostly on HWY 60, which I don't think I'd seen before, and was gorgeous though, duh, really hot. Saguaros everywhere. I bought a hat.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX7aaV72EvFbIUl0PJLnLEq9ZR1YoJ2qHYAmZ5ZJGxvCQZvRgew5wFnRkhNYUUZ8K9xq-GHuHBZwxyEHtgxlNOswGLuYLUioJsKAVSOoh3tyGscsyZhhMUTNfL-rbx3YnNtt0Zg/s2304/IMG_20210910_131712743_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX7aaV72EvFbIUl0PJLnLEq9ZR1YoJ2qHYAmZ5ZJGxvCQZvRgew5wFnRkhNYUUZ8K9xq-GHuHBZwxyEHtgxlNOswGLuYLUioJsKAVSOoh3tyGscsyZhhMUTNfL-rbx3YnNtt0Zg/s320/IMG_20210910_131712743_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>As is my wont, we camped near the start on any old dirt road pullout we could find. There was a little more traffic than ideal because hunting season just started (elk archery, I think). Plus we couldn't get very far off the pavement because damn, when a Prius says it has 5 inches of clearance, it's 5 inches <i>tops</i>. We made it through the summer by just going to paved Sierra trailheads, but to get anywhere on BLM desert roads during the cooler months here, we're going to need more clearance.</p><p>Gf dropped me at the start seconds before the first busload of other runners arrived, so I managed to talk to a man about a horse with no delay. The dropbag piles were only labeled with the aid station name (not the mileage number), the piles weren't in order, and there also didn't appear to be duct tape or markers for labeling, so that confused some people, but it got sorted out.</p><p>The course changed from a convoluted loop to a point to point this year. It now utilizes nearly every trail that goes up/down the western half of the Mogollon Rim, which is a ~200 mile long escarpment. The top of the wall is around 7,000' high and the bottom a little under 5,000'. There are six major climbs.</p><p>After I didn't really manage to do even splits at Kodiak, I figured I'd do my usual--start fast and try and hang on for dear life. I did give myself an advantage though: I had a pacer. After Black Hills, I ran a silly little statistical analysis of my 100+ mile races, and I calculated that having a pacer is associated with a 2 hour 40 minute savings, after controlling for vertical gain and extra miles.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDaE31I0HZ_Ydh1T6hzu2oNzsJ3k6Lx5DK0JSo8HR1kGVoLqR0wrCmmASBhctL-uk0pFj2mVQ8jZDFxCIOnPVg-hYlA5rXOtN0iG63XTVTi5yiFLyFKBQ0UrhL5z8HCIE7C9sBKA/s641/100times.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="556" data-original-width="641" height="557" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDaE31I0HZ_Ydh1T6hzu2oNzsJ3k6Lx5DK0JSo8HR1kGVoLqR0wrCmmASBhctL-uk0pFj2mVQ8jZDFxCIOnPVg-hYlA5rXOtN0iG63XTVTi5yiFLyFKBQ0UrhL5z8HCIE7C9sBKA/w640-h557/100times.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><p>My analysis isn't exactly rock solid and publishable in the <i>QJE </i>or whatever, but I figured I might as well give it a shot. So I asked Fegy, who some non-runners may know from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bG97F6b_6o4" target="_blank">the Barkley documentary</a>, to pace me, since he lives in Arizona. (Seriously, runner or no, if you haven't watched the documentary, you should. And then if you aren't inspired by the indomitable human spirit, don't tell me.) We'd only met in person once or twice; we mostly knew <i>of </i>each other because of a similar grad school-long distance backpacking-ultras background. I figured I'd probably get along with the guy if we talked more, so what the heck. I think it worked out well.<br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPSnAj7nssirU7pLimFJ2r9dj-y8OezwTn5Q7rOeBlaEy7n9Y9whiUb75O3FLdvq1ITt9vzd0hJjZF4Qe05tHm17ARgdTEtx1fmYlP_Qbo2vFevpHEca9MDha5j4pRSf7kDXdomQ/s2304/IMG_20210911_055049459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPSnAj7nssirU7pLimFJ2r9dj-y8OezwTn5Q7rOeBlaEy7n9Y9whiUb75O3FLdvq1ITt9vzd0hJjZF4Qe05tHm17ARgdTEtx1fmYlP_Qbo2vFevpHEca9MDha5j4pRSf7kDXdomQ/s320/IMG_20210911_055049459.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning Crazy-Face<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p><p>I started towards the front, in the top 10-20 runners, and the first and second climbs were no problem. I did a few 9-minute miles along the rim after the first climb. The third climb around mile 24 hit a little harder but I knew Gf and the dogs were going to be somewhere along the rim road at the top, so it was easy to maintain a respectable pace. The race had a few "crew only" aid areas where crew was allowed to provide aid to runners, though there was no official aid station. Seeing Gf, getting icy Gatorade, and putting on a ton of sunblock was great. Shortly before the crew area ended some strangers offered me a popsicle, which was fucking <i>excellent</i>. Seriously, if you ever want to feel appreciated, hand out popsicles at an ultra in Arizona.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdy2mri12vmYO0Mk9HMjC8XUUzaRGfb1_YVZP3mcEawinLMcz9nR8DyBbq8hIM607Y-GkfDnvwG7B2fxEmCxTiwZv-3wNQeBNCZT0lm1ueVNabo9MIWrv7whyphenhyphenmGD5682PqktIZg/s4608/IMG_20210911_064139637_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdy2mri12vmYO0Mk9HMjC8XUUzaRGfb1_YVZP3mcEawinLMcz9nR8DyBbq8hIM607Y-GkfDnvwG7B2fxEmCxTiwZv-3wNQeBNCZT0lm1ueVNabo9MIWrv7whyphenhyphenmGD5682PqktIZg/s320/IMG_20210911_064139637_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning Light<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3guKgTYNb8KQPubx_IUtL-PD2NMdepicoTIoBmDrGWEYa4FPyDil2ORlCjfHe12j748HBBULnQN2Fl8scNNt0thxYocSWXV4FQpvmRQJ8Tp0NDGHjzVvlOG0Z4K0Fc-bgPM082w/s4608/IMG_20210911_121605677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3guKgTYNb8KQPubx_IUtL-PD2NMdepicoTIoBmDrGWEYa4FPyDil2ORlCjfHe12j748HBBULnQN2Fl8scNNt0thxYocSWXV4FQpvmRQJ8Tp0NDGHjzVvlOG0Z4K0Fc-bgPM082w/s320/IMG_20210911_121605677.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9dU2pFqEEr2KrRdkAPZ4O2vjCLNCJqqjKHq4u9TD4pRciP752T7efgozg6z3zMFOcbJKuHgb19iShhwxNghnZxE2y0K08PsEvngSQgQRpJz9be7S9SI8rCvQRA1nLG8fQ41qbQ/s4608/IMG_20210911_064052279_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9dU2pFqEEr2KrRdkAPZ4O2vjCLNCJqqjKHq4u9TD4pRciP752T7efgozg6z3zMFOcbJKuHgb19iShhwxNghnZxE2y0K08PsEvngSQgQRpJz9be7S9SI8rCvQRA1nLG8fQ41qbQ/s320/IMG_20210911_064052279_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDtoyLySeCeHFtXeu1bSfWrEpxOK9mg3aQxtzsJu4ePE6qKzfX2FaSUdIy1OcxSc_fWdUeuAEJMckzypD_vSu5GJgHi2Gt2D4KI89-FAs54gXe6XWOgZYc78j4ndm084IH3TRxjw/s2048/_DSC3318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDtoyLySeCeHFtXeu1bSfWrEpxOK9mg3aQxtzsJu4ePE6qKzfX2FaSUdIy1OcxSc_fWdUeuAEJMckzypD_vSu5GJgHi2Gt2D4KI89-FAs54gXe6XWOgZYc78j4ndm084IH3TRxjw/s320/_DSC3318.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEzHYVq5NRKAz2_Uu9irnqq9edKPYc5K2eqQbibLrxKaseyP2ue9X2zhypsqodHSq3EIkdVkrUx6gHy8FfP18nb59DaVugAlIMfffPwd6wrQpB4iZ_jnQUnneHJvmAe0WOoTDnw/s2048/_DSC4701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEzHYVq5NRKAz2_Uu9irnqq9edKPYc5K2eqQbibLrxKaseyP2ue9X2zhypsqodHSq3EIkdVkrUx6gHy8FfP18nb59DaVugAlIMfffPwd6wrQpB4iZ_jnQUnneHJvmAe0WOoTDnw/s320/_DSC4701.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>The third descent was tough. I repeatedly tightened the laces of my shoes to try and avoid hitting my big toe against the front of my shoe. I ran in a brand new pair of Hoka Speedgoat 4's, in wide. I think that was the right call, but man those trails were steep and boulder-choked. Baby heads. Ankle breakers. I always wear running shoes a full size larger than my dress shoe size,
and Hokas often run narrow so I either get them in wide or an
additional 1/2 size up. These were my first Speedgoats, but I think they performed well. Still, when I got to the aid station I borrowed some nail clippers and tripped my big toenail close so hitting it against my shoe front wouldn't hurt as much; that helped a bit.<br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGbsKQUbElLZO4kxtrd3p94QZmO51wJvTztulVoHJRtSZrD90dcBV_xCIjc6XNpxWCFUd9CfmfTv9xjzpVfUFhHCln-83qOsEPsGOOqknbXDeior5rTtQRNyr31vXYqUenxAiBg/s4608/IMG_20210911_090221174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGbsKQUbElLZO4kxtrd3p94QZmO51wJvTztulVoHJRtSZrD90dcBV_xCIjc6XNpxWCFUd9CfmfTv9xjzpVfUFhHCln-83qOsEPsGOOqknbXDeior5rTtQRNyr31vXYqUenxAiBg/s320/IMG_20210911_090221174.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like this, but much steeper<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZF3OWibT-d8_ctIJHqDLHExxbihfcLPZ1A2yKq2qZlF_85RAQdgmqVrPLC_eHRfAQ3NLZQ6hMPJHT5ZKPdXDjzqpDv8tQ3D8yKsZdk5xT9apUqQiPgPh-six8yn9k7i7IGg5YQ/s4608/IMG_20210912_064512394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZF3OWibT-d8_ctIJHqDLHExxbihfcLPZ1A2yKq2qZlF_85RAQdgmqVrPLC_eHRfAQ3NLZQ6hMPJHT5ZKPdXDjzqpDv8tQ3D8yKsZdk5xT9apUqQiPgPh-six8yn9k7i7IGg5YQ/s320/IMG_20210912_064512394.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Then the fourth climb hit me. The climbing was stacked in the first 40 miles of the race, and miles 32 to 40 were all lower and exposed, and then the climb was really tough, and in the afternoon while it was still hot. I was very glad when a runner I'd chatted with earlier in the race caught up to me and we did the climb together. Yes, I am a nerd, but asking him questions about the interest rates on commercial bank loans and how those are collateralized could only help to pass the time so much--that climb was hard.<br /><p></p><p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDkF3TlC4qiv15071tZ2ot5g8DKODh4h6GMG9YeLqfzOwppvruwr7ZHb9EObZCzBGTPFl98BeGtbtSFeBSvhIbcAYdacdqDTINhwIHdlpH2K0cOsNDruLg6DC1GsYqIrQd7GZ9g/s2048/_DSC5585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDkF3TlC4qiv15071tZ2ot5g8DKODh4h6GMG9YeLqfzOwppvruwr7ZHb9EObZCzBGTPFl98BeGtbtSFeBSvhIbcAYdacdqDTINhwIHdlpH2K0cOsNDruLg6DC1GsYqIrQd7GZ9g/w640-h426/_DSC5585.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God damn.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />(On-course photos by Aravaipa Running/Jubilee Paige)</p><p>There was an aid station right at the top of the climb, and people were <i>wrecked</i>. It was still 85+ degrees, but runner were shivering and huddled under blankets. I tried to rehydrate and get going. The aid stations had plenty of ice, but the sports drink was something I'd never heard of before (Gnarly-2-0) and I thought it was disgusting. So I stuck with what works and just drank as much icy ginger ale as I could. Bottles and bottles full of ginger ale. And some ginger chews for the road. <br /></p><p>I left the aid station and wept uncontrollably for a few minutes. Endorphins, man.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-nJ46kDxJkVdiBYN7beApFkwy9ITJNC16H6II3EYWmc2wvV9OZGqF07a-S612doYiCCMUu2IpqqkuDnA1D_Aruq5MwdrPTuhffb9WpmmaDdXHgNG2UbEkBotzSxSUAzVbzfu6Q/s2304/IMG_20210911_172318115_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-nJ46kDxJkVdiBYN7beApFkwy9ITJNC16H6II3EYWmc2wvV9OZGqF07a-S612doYiCCMUu2IpqqkuDnA1D_Aruq5MwdrPTuhffb9WpmmaDdXHgNG2UbEkBotzSxSUAzVbzfu6Q/w400-h300/IMG_20210911_172318115_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crybaby</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The situation improved because there was a nice breeze along the top of the rim, the sun went down so things cooled off, and the course was relatively flat for 20 miles. Gf made it to another aid station at mile 46 shortly before it got dark, so that was another good boost.</p><p>Then 16 miles of solo night running later, I picked up John around mile 62. The night miles weren't easy, but they were easier than the hot miles the next day. John kept up a good conversation, and I think we only stopped outside an aid station once, and briefly. We got climb #5 in before it was totally light or hot, but the next descent and climb, both in the space of a few miles, were hot and exposed. Knowing it was the last big climb was really the only thing that made it passable. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJFWJbNR_Az70cxYpyLCsj1aixxznKvu3CVKYkH7A-RG6Wa1f5vZonwR5s_WvyJpgD7RoT_fF1ipmI6tifE7FSJJz-3uq8xYiNyg69O34bTT033486cBVSOQJJDpn71u1S0qaZA/s2048/_DSC8811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJFWJbNR_Az70cxYpyLCsj1aixxznKvu3CVKYkH7A-RG6Wa1f5vZonwR5s_WvyJpgD7RoT_fF1ipmI6tifE7FSJJz-3uq8xYiNyg69O34bTT033486cBVSOQJJDpn71u1S0qaZA/w266-h400/_DSC8811.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know why I'm smiling<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>After the last climb there was a long road stretch, and finally the road-running during elk season caught up to me. There was a lot of traffic, a lot of it pulling trailers, and a lot of dust. This section also seemed to measure longer than predicted, making up a mile or so shortage I'd had according to my GPS thus far. After what seemed like forever we descended from the rim (again on very steep seemingly unrunnably rocky trails). Once down there were a few aggravating switchback climbs back up, but the climbing wasn't as bad as the exposed heat.</p><p>The final few miles on trail were mostly downhill, with some nice, if never ending switchbacks. I got pissed the race wasn't over yet, I so started running hard, and even managed to drop Fegy, who had unfortunately run out of water so couldn't keep up. I repeated my <i>What about Bob? </i>mantra: "I feel good. I feel great. I feel wonderful." It was true for a little while, and I managed a couple 11-minute miles, and managed to pass a few runners in shorter distance races on the same course.</p><p>The race ended with a 1.5 mile stretch on pavement to go from the Pine AZT trailhead into the heart of Pine, but I'd expected it to either be 2.5 or 3.5 miles based on the course website, and shorter-than-expected is always a pleasant surprise. I finished in 31:42. Looking solely at the elevation gain (between 17K-19K) that's not amazing, but it was good enough for 22 place out of 150 starters, which I'm pretty happy with.</p><p> </p><p>Would I recommend the race? Sure. The course is pretty, but I think the beauty and the difficulty are stacked in the first 40 miles. There's not quite as many views in the second half. I was lucky in that Arizona has had a terrific monsoon season, so there was a lot of greenery. There's a little too much road, especially towards the end. I wouldn't call the trails well-maintained by any stretch. The rocks are crazy. I don't recall other parts of Arizona--the Grand Canyon, Kaibab Plateau, or Arizona Strip from the Hayduke--being this rocky, but this is Pennsylvania AT or Massanutten level rocky. The aid stations were pretty good. I'm not a fan of Gnarly Hydration products, but YMMV. My one hopefully constructive comment for the RD would be to put mileage numbers in addition to aid station names on drop bag piles, and to put the piles in race order.</p>
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