Monday, July 27, 2015

A few pics from Duncan Canyon 2015

This was my fourth year in a row of volunteering at the Duncan Canyon Aid Station at mile 24 of the Western States 100 mile endurance run.  Sachin and I drove up again this year and had a great time with friends/teammates of the Quicksilver Running Club that hosts this aid station.  Here are a few pics:

Getting the caffeine buzz going in the morning.

Pierre, Jim, and Steven were all helping out.  The four of us had run in the 24 hour race the weekend prior...

The breakfast buffet - and Guy - he is the one with the tats.

Jill and others getting their fill.

I think best costume went to Clare.

The aid station getting geared up!

One of the best vistas for an aid station!


The wildflowers on the course.

The western states trail.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

San Francisco Summer Solstice 24 Hour Race Report 2015

They say that if you want to loose weight the most effective thing to do is to cut back on calories going in (eat less).  The is because of the following reasoning: You can burn about 600 calories in a one hour run.  Or you could not eat a chocolate shake from macdonalds.

What they didn't think of though was what if you ran 24 hours.  That is like 14400 calories, or about 4 lbs of body fat (1 lb of fat is worth about 3500 calories).  Of course I'm not making an exact calculation here because I'm not even talking about glycogen reserves being utilized and the extra calories taken in during 24 hours of running, but this is my blog so I can make up any math I want.

Enter the San Francisco Summer Solstice 24 hour race.  But first, a little update and what has been going on in my running world:  Since having a blast at the 4 mph challenge back in March it has been pretty quiet on the training and racing front.  First was the attack of the killer cold.  I had not had a cold hit me this hard in a long time.  Usually I can run through a cold.  Not this one.  Next, I started hitting the hills to get ready for the big vert Ohlone 50k.  I felt pretty confident with my fitness going in, but then the race was cancelled due to a freak rain we got that scared the park into pulling the permits for the race for some reason.  After that let-down I sort of just goofed off for a while because I couldn't figure out my next move.  I knew about the San Francisco 24 hour race because it was part of the PA series that our club competes in, but I had thought that there was no way that I could run it because of racing Ohlone, family trip to Kansas, and helping out at Duncan Canyon at WS with Quicksilver.  But when I studied the calendar a little closer I realized that the race actually fell on the weekend that I was going to be home alone with nothing better to do, so naturally I signed up.  

Not the most focused training around.  The bars represent the amount of miles that were run in each week. The big bars are about 120 miles.
The Summer Solstice 24 hour is a race where they give you 24 hours to run as many laps around the lagoon at crissy fields in San Francisco as you can.  One lap is about 1.061 miles.  And it is completely flat.  There are three components that one should probably have in their training to do their best at this race:  lots of flat running practice, lots of volume (many miles per week), and really long training runs (to teach muscular endurance).  From the graph above you might have been able to tell that I didn't really do any of that.   Oh well, it was going to be a new experience and I was determined to have some fun no matter what the outcome.

Here are some pics to give some life to the one mile loop:

The Lagoon

Team blue. Left to right: Stephen, Jim and Keith.
Quicksilver had six guys in the race.  Running side by side in the picture above are Jim Magil and Stephen Strauss, two men battling for the 60-70 year old age group points.  In fact, Jim said the only reason he was running the race was because Stephen signed up and he had to protect his title.  You gotta love it when the grey hairs get competitive with each other.

I think there is a bridge back there somewhere...

Alcatraz in the distance.

The promonade. Views of the city just under the clouds.

Another lap down.
I started out with a simple enough strategy:  I would shuffle two laps at 9 minute per mile pace, then one walk lap, then one fast lap (maybe 7 to 8 minute per mile pace), then a walk lap.  And repeat.  As long as I could.  My thought process was that I would be using different sets of muscles for the stride lengths and movements required, thereby prolonging muscular fatigue.  But this didn't really end up working that good.  My walking muscles were already sore by 50k, and I couldn't run fast after that point anyways.  It seems I would have been much better off if I would have done what everyone else did.  Run as slowly as I felt comfortable with for as long as I could and then mix in the walking when that is all I could do.  Ultra-running really is a fly-and-die kind of sport.  In distance running they say that the best races come from even pacing, but I think it is telling that ultra runners almost as a rule run positive splits all the time.  Some experts claim that we just don't know what we are doing, but I don't see them out there doing anything better.

John Brooks (left), is the guy that makes this race happen.

Sachin doesn't even look like he just ran a hundo last weekend...
The race venue really was top notch.  I loved the setting.  The aid station was great.  There was tons of support.  It would be a little nicer to have all dirt to run on, but you can't have everything.  While my walking muscles were complaining early on, my shuffle legs were still pretty fresh and energy was good, so I was in high spirits for the first part of the race.  Once the fog started burning off and we got a little sun I started feeling some muscle cramping coming on.  Around this time my buddy Eric from work showed up.  I had told him I was doing this race this weekend and told him he could come up to the city and check it out if he wanted.  I have been working with Eric for 10 years now.  He is the guy who I first heard talking passionately about marathoning back in 2007.  I think I knew what a marathon was, but I didn't even know that normal people would do such a thing.  Soon after he talked about it though, I ran the San Fran marathon bandit and then swore I would never do that again (but that is a whole other story).  Anyways, Eric spotted me down one of the straight aways and joined in on my slow shuffle.  We chatted for a while.  I was trying to fill him in on what was going on.  He hung around for a while and got a glimpse of our silly sport and then went across the street to check out the Sports Basement.  As soon as he peeled off and I turned the corner and tried to pick up my pace, the legs started to seize up on me.  I couldn't believe it: 5 p.m. and 47 miles in, being as conservative with my pace as possible and switching up muscle groups and everything, and my legs were roasted.  I went back to a slow walk, trying to keep my legs from crumbling from beneath me as I tried to think of what to do next.  When I got the the aid station I grabbed some salt pills and a cold drink and went and sat down for a while.  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I thought that maybe if I just took it easy and tried to get some salt in, maybe it would help.  As I walked the next lap I did little experimental pick ups in pace to see if the legs would do anything.  Fortunately I got them to do a little bit of running right on the edge of what they would take at the time.  Eric saw me during this low, but then also saw as I seemed to pull myself back together.  By the time he left for home it seemed like I had found my running legs again.  I kept taking the salt pills and they really did seem to do something.  Then as the sun went down  and the fog started rolling in, my body got stronger and stronger.  In the twilight I was reaching my high for the day.  It is funny how the highest highs seem to follow the lowest lows, but even though I was pretty beat up and tired, I felt almost giddy as my body seemed to effortlessly glide along.  I'm sure everyone was pretty annoyed with how peppy I was at this point, but I was enjoying the moment.

Jason Reed says hi.  Views of aid station central.

People had some pretty comfy setups.  I don't know how many runners actually took naps in the tents, or whether it was just supporting crew that were camping out for the party...

The fog burning off in the afternoon.
At 8 p.m., or 12 hours in, I crossed the timing mat with 58 miles.  I didn't know whether I was going to make it to 100 because it seemed like a stretch to squeeze another 42 miles out of my body in the next 12 hours that were going to happen through the night and on tired legs, but I knew if I was diligent and just stayed steady, sort of like in the 4 mph challenge, it was totally do-able.

I was pretty much in the zone clicking off the miles until 70 when I realized my stride length was getting shorter and I just didn't have as much pop in my legs.  I decided to take a sit break, remembering the way they seemed to help during the 4 mph challenge.  Loren, our racing team captain, was there cheering us on and helping us out.  He lent me his blanket and I went and sat in cab of John's truck to stay warm as it was pretty cold and windy out.  Then Greg, our club president, who was also helping us out, came over and brought me some awesome food that he had swiped from some banquet he was at earlier that day.  He talked up my daughters who were killing it in running club at Bishop grade school this year in a program that he helps coordinate.  It is pretty hard to feel sorry for yourself or to not want to do well in the race when all of these people really put their energy into helping you...like I said before, the support is great.

When I got back into the fray, I remembered that those sit breaks don't come without a penalty.  The legs were so stiff that it took a whole lap to get them to function properly again.  But then the payoff:  they started to bounce off of the ground again and I was back in business.  As I rounded out my fifth lap post break, I noticed that I was slowing down again.  I kept at it for one more lap and then thought to myself that if I keep doing these breaks and keep clicking off miles the way I was, then 100 was in the bag.  So that was the plan for the rest of the night.  6 laps in-between sit breaks.  Chicken soup while on break, and a small cup of coke every lap.  The coke did wonders with respect to keeping my alert and awake.  I remembered my sleepiness at the 4 mph challenge and I also remembered the lack of available caffeine at that race.  The little shots of coke though were perfect to keep me going through the night.  

I got another shot of energy as the sun came up the next morning.  Then it was just a matter of finishing it off.  I reached 100.8 miles at 23 hours and 19 minutes elapsed and decided I had had enough.  I had had my eyes set on that goal and was satisfied when I made it, so I got my sweats on and sat down and cheered on the rest of the runners as they were going for their own goals (or even racing).  The aid station made me an awesome breakfast burrito that totally made my day.

I know a lot of things I could have done better, but all in all I am really happy with the way it all played out because it gave me confidence that I can actually bounce back from my legs seizing up when the sun is shining.  I think salt pills really might be the way to work through some of those tough spots, and I should really expect to be able to move well into the night.  This is a great event and I will probably do it again sometime.  Probably not next year, but sometime.

There wasn't too much damage from the race.  I have a couple of toes that got blistered up, and various chaffing that is healing up.  The most annoying thing is that I let myself get sun-burned.  I didn't even realize it with the clouds and cool temps, but being out there all day exposed will do it to you.  The muscle soreness and recovery has been average - no issues as far as I can tell yet.  


Chikara, the newly minted course record holder with 132 miles, left it all out on the course.  Including anything he ate...

Pierre thinks it's hilarious.

Garret is happy he beat me again.  He got me at the 4 mph challenge and beat me by a few miles at this one as well.  Idaho for all the marbles...

This guy.  Maybe someone who reads this blog will tell me who he is...

Every mile I was faced with a decision: which bowl to choose from...

William had a special day out there.  Something like 118 miles I think.  First in the 40-50 age group.

Jean toughed out the loops again and improved a couple of miles from last year by running 129.

I'm not usually a big fan of the chotskies but I can use every one of these: coaster, mug, 100 mile buckle baby!

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Quicksilver 100k Report

No, I didn't race.  But it was a full day out on the trails.  Organizing and executing a an ultra race of this magnitude on one's home turf is quite an endeavor.  Besides some issues with runners taking wrong turns on an admittedly criss-crossy course, it seems like runners came away from our race with a great experience.  Here are some pics:

Views from the Lexington Reservoir Aid Station

Lexington Aid Team.  Notice Marc's cute Montrail jacket?

Jean held 4th position all day long!

Notice Marc's cute Montrail jacket?

Stuart was steady as can be, looking good at 25 miles in.

Doc Noc goofing around (before he goes bananas the last 15 miles)

He goofed around so much he forgot his iPod!  Notice Marc's cute Montrail jacket?

Nakia is all business.  PA all the way!

Chris Eide, not blowing his wistle.

Donnie B.  Before the paramedics got to try out all of their toys on him...

Mile 25 aid is nice.  Because they are still smiling.  Nick is happy.

This guy is always flexing.  I saw three different shirts on Marty this day.

This is what a 67 year old ultra runners knees look like.  Well, after fall numero uno.  Jim just keeps going.

Herr Strauss.  Wanting to know what 60 year olds are ahead of him.

Marco says couch to 100k - not the way to go...

John wants to know why he is sweeping 28 miles, and me only 18...
Of course it is because he is such a handsome endurance athlete - see how everyone is looking at him with longing gazes.

Jean does it again.  Known affectionately as the "freak".  Races perpetually, and kicks butt perpetually.

Must have got a ban-aid on that knee.

Stuart pops a 40 minute PR on what seems to be one of his strongest stages  - hilly 100k's!

Views while sweeping the last 18 miles of the course.

Sachin pulling ribbons from the course.


Thursday, April 9, 2015

Heat is not my friend.

At least when it comes to ultra-racing.  This is not an unknown phenomenon.  Every runner knows they slow down when it's hot.  Some research has shown, for instance, that a well trained runner will slow down 3% per 10 degrees F above 40 F(the temperature that would be optimal) for a marathon.  So I could say that heat is not a friend to marathon runners, but the reason I am writing this post is to present my analysis of why I believe that heat is much MORE not a friend to me compared with other runners.

The Evidence

To present my case I will use a combination of ultra-racing history and anecdotal experiences.  I could talk about races prior to 2011, but I think 2011 to the present represent the most homogeneous performance comparisons since my "fun run" 5k times have been roughly comparable through the last four years.  I have been racing the monthly 5k at my work since 2006, so I have a pretty neat history of my running fitness over the life of my running career.

My ultra race performances in 2011 are pretty indicative of my capabilities since I consider that about every race on the books for that year was a pretty good race for me.  No disappointments.  Did heat not affect me that year?  Of course it did.  It's just that the conditions at the race and my acclimatization at the time set me up to perform satisfactorily with respect to my racing peers.  This is an important point to make because how else do you know that you are not performing up to standard without first having a standard.  In this case the standard is how I am comparing to my competitors.  I will use my 50k and my first 50 miler as a baseline.  I ran the Skyline to the Sea 50k in 4:05 and Dick Collins Firetrails 50 mile in 7:33.  I know it is difficult to compare one of these races to another because of difference in elevation gain, technicality of trails, etc, but I will qualitatively assess those differences based on my experience and knowledge of my own skills.

A list of (selected) race performances and cursory analysis in chronological order for 2012, 13, and 14:

  • Steep Ravine 2012 50k: 4:59 (expected 4:30 or better).  January race - was winter acclimated - happened to be a nice sunny day by the ocean - got warm and I faded at the end.
  • American River 2012 50 mile: 7:28 (expected close to 7).  April race - still sorta winter acclimated/not much running in the heat leading up to this race - another beautiful(warm) day - got warm and I struggled bad for the last 3rd of race - was just barely keeping muscle cramps at bay - my brother witnessed the carnage at the finish line.
  • Ruth Anderson 2012 100k: 8:55 (expected 8:40 ish).  A couple of weeks after AR 50 in San Fran with nice temps thanks to Ocean and fog, giving away to sun in the afternoon - this race went ok for me.
  • Dick Collins Firetrails 2012 50 miler: 7:18 (expected close to 7:30 again).  This race was a freak of nature for me.  It was warm later in the day.  I did have a whole summer of heat acclimatization under my belt though and I attribute most of the success in this race because of some super-compensation due to altitude stress from fastpacking in the sierra the weekend before.
  • Quad Dipsea 2012 28.4 miler: 5:16 (expected 4:45).  Sometimes this race can be a cold, muddy, slogfest.  I would have thrived on that.  Instead, it was a hot November day.  Go figure.
  • Lake Sonoma 2013 50 miler: 8:49 (expected just over 8 hours).  Got to mile 30 having the time of my life.  Then it was sunny and exposed and I death marched it in for 20 miles.  Still one of the toughest finishes I have ever had.  Puked on the finish line, likely due to heat exhaustion.  Another spring 50 miler where I was not ready for heat.
  • Ohlone 2013 50k: 5:51 (expected 5:30 or better).  Pretty warm day as can be expected in May in the Sunol, but a nice breeze up on the hilltops kept me cool enough.  Descending the mountains into the canyon the breeze disappeared and it got hotter.  Another death march.
  • Dick Collins Firetrails 2013 50 miler: 8:48 (expected 7:30 or better).  How could I be over an hour slower than usual?  Well, it was a warm day, but no warmer than usual.  I did fall apart shortly before half way.  Perhaps a whole year of my brain learning to protect me from myself in the heat shut me down early in this race?  I don't know.
  • 4 MPH challenge 2014 78 miles for the win.  It was as wet, cold, and sloppy as you can imagine.  And it worked for me.
  • Skyline 2014 50k: 4:18 (expected between 4:10 and 4:20).  It was a summer race, but there was a nice, cool, fog (marine layer as they call it around here).  Also, it was done in about 4 hrs, before it gets hot.
  • Jed Smith 2015 50k: 3:45 (expected 3:45). Nice, overcast day in winter.  My favorite running weather.
  • 4 MPH challenge 2015 108 miles for second.  It was nice weather.  High of maybe 72.  But I was taking it easy in the heat of the day with ice in my hat and ice in the bandana around my neck for every minute of warm weather.  I was still in the sleeveless shirt through the 50 degree night and it felt good.
Several Conclusions from above analysis:

  1. Shorter races are usually done before noon - the vast majority of the race taking place in cooler temps.  I did good in most of these.
  2. Did fine at all races that took place in cooler weather (not many on the list).
  3. Spring 50 milers are death to me.  The combination of lack of heat acclimatization and length of time out on the course(therefore subjecting oneself to warmer afternoon temps) seemed to really take it out of me. 

Analysis of my DNFs (as I believe all of my DNFs were primarily precipitated because of sunny, hot weather:

  • Miwok 2014 100k.  I'm not even going to talk about my DNF at the Miwok 2013 60k - I think I was still on the mend from Lake Sonoma.  So whats worse for me than a spring 50 miler?  How about a spring 100k...Its always nice in the morning, and hot in the afternoon - at least these two years.  It doesn't help that the second half is largely exposed - no tree protection.  When my muscles get overcooked they just cramp up into useless pieces of flesh and I actually loose the ability to mechanically move forward.  I would like to think of myself as mentally tough enough to finish a long race, but it seems my body is able to overcome this desire by taking matters into it's own hands.
  • Tahoe Rim Trail 2013 100 mile.  One of the hottest years for this race on record.  My blog post about it pretty much sums up the epic early meltdown.
  • IMTUF 2014 100 mile.  Almost made it through the heat of the day without totally cooking myself.  Almost.  Realized I had failed on my climb up snowslide.  The muscle cramps in my legs told the story from there.
Conclusions from above analysis:

  1. I have to approach the longer races that last through the heat of the day differently than I do any of the shorter races(50k or 50 milers).  I am no longer competitive with the people I can usually run with in those shorter races.
  2. If I push things in the heat - bad things will happen.
  3. I need to pick a colder 100 mile race.
Something else about the last four years:  There has been a pretty epic drought here in California.  Maybe I just need it to rain again...

The Why:

Why would I be more susceptible to heat than other runners?  I can think of several angles to approach this question.

  1. The big runner issue:  I am 6'3 and just shy of 200 lbs.  That is a big runner.  There is plenty of research that shows a portion of the heat shedding ability of a runner is tied to their size.  While one might think that the larger cross-sectional area of a large runner would aid in the heat dissipation abilities, it seems that any gains in this area are more than nullified by the gain in heat generation internally from the larger runner(more energy required to move more mass).  Think of an elite marathon runner.  Haile Gebreselassie is 5'5, 123 lbs.  I have never seen someone over 6 ft tall anywhere near the tiny guys at the front of the big races.
  2. The sweat issue: I sweat a lot.  While this is actually a good thing to do in the heat(that is how the body gets rid of heat), there is only so much it can help and so much capacity to sweat.  Sweating can give off 200 watts of heat.  In most cases, people have to train their bodies to be able to produce enough sweat to accomplish this type of heat dissipation.  I developed my sweating capabilities from an early age being a regular at our weekly "ultra" sauna sessions when I was a child between the ages of 8 and 12 (I'm guessing when I was first allowed to participate).  We took our sauna sessions seriously - staying in the hot until we couldn't anymore, and then cooling off in a "cold" pool.  Repeat for two hours.  I love saunas.  I don't know if this is why I am so efficient at sweating today, but it is good for my afternoon workouts or warm (shorter) races - not so good for ultra-races.  On a regular weekend long run I loose between 5 to 10 lbs of water.  I drink to thirst and feel fine afterwards - not dehydrated.  But imagine: beginning a run weighing 195 lbs and ending it at 185 - seems pretty harsh.  If I loose that much water in a regular long run, how much water can I loose in an ultra-race?  Probably not much more - because at some point the body will not have the reserves to help.  And when you stop sweating - it's bad news.  So why not drink more?  Well, that has consequences too.  If you drink too much you will dilute the salt concentration in your body and that is a bad thing.  The solution here is to slow down enough that your body is not required to sweat so much.  I have read that Tim Twietmeyer, the legendary Western States runner, would run "just slow enough" to keep from sweat accumulation.  It worked for him in hot races, and he is a pretty big guy.  But I sweat in basically any conditions while physically exerting myself.
  3. I grew up near Vienna, Austria.  I wonder if there were any epigenetic adaptations from growing up in a wetter, cloudier place that might hinder my heat shedding abilities in sunny, drought ridden California?  This one is more speculative.
So What?
    I'm not fat.  Just big boned.  Scene from the 2015 4 MPH challenge.
  1. Maybe I could loose some weight.  Less mass, less energy required, less heat to dissipate.  No thank you - I am not a calorie counter and never will be.
  2. Train more in the middle of the day to get more used to heat.  Well, for weekend long runs this does actually make a lot of sense - but I run because I love to run.  Running in heat sucks.
  3. Only sign up for races that will hopefully be cooler.  I like this approach - but the selection becomes a problem here.  Most of the good races are in the hot part of the year.
I think I just need to approach the racing calendar with a greater appreciation for my challenges in the heat.  As long as I recognize when I am putting myself in a compromised position when a hot race day comes along and make the required adjustments, I think I can save myself from a lot of discomfort.  Results won't be pretty when I decide to scale back the race effort - but this is a hit I'm willing to take.

This post is just like, my opinion, man.  I welcome any other critical analysis that one might have insight on...