We interrupt this programming...

So, I'm giving some serious thought to organizing a non-race run/bike event for next April for those crazy enough to consider it.

The "Ohlone Beast 40-50" is a one day combination run-bike. Beginning at Lake Del Valle it would go via the Ohlone Wilderness Trail (24 miles or 40K) to the trail head at Mission Peak Park at Stanford Ave in Fremont CA. The next segment would be a 50K (39 mile) ride via Calaveras Blvd back to Pleasanton. I expect that the run will take ~ 4-5 hours and the ride ~3.

This is pure concept and open to change. I'm looking for interested participants for any and all of the segments.

Let me know if you're interested or know others who might be. More to follow.

Riding and Running the Matterhorn-Part 2

In the first part of my visit to Italy, the weather gods smiled and gave me lovely weather. On the fourth day they exacted payment and the rains began as my train turned north for Torino and Cervinia. I rolled into Chatillon an hour late and was welcomed by Alech from the Hotel Les Neiges D'Antan. We drove up the winddy valley through beautiful mountain villages towards Cervinia as a light rain fell.

Friday was rainy and cool. The Matterhorn was hidden from view and clouds swirled around the hotel situated at 1900m above sea level. Ludovicco Bich, the hotel's son's owner and I poured over maps of the surrounding area and he highlighted trails that would quench my thirst for running and biking the area. I was jazzed! All my life I've wanted to visit the Matterhorn; I was finally here, but it remained hidden in a swirl of clouds and rain. No matter--I somehow knew I would get to see it during my three day weekend. For now, I drew solace from my first run which would aquaint me with the territory and allow me to take in the beauty of this incredible alpine region.

I set out in a steady downpour for my running tour. The steep walls of the valley were intimidating and beautiful at the same time. Snow dusted the mountains at the 3000m level and waterfalls seem to cascade off every steep angle. My goal was to take in the first biking route Ludovicco recommended and scope it out. The route took me briefly up the main road to a farm road that accessed several dairy barns and houses perched on the steep ravine sides.

I carried my running pack with water, warm clothes, food, and camera and ran at a steady pace up the very steep hills. I wore shorts, a raincoat and a hat. Two minutes in I was soaked wherever the coat failed to cover. Despite the slow pace, my heart rate was up due to a combination of excitement, altitude, and cold.

At the turn off, I began an even steeper ascent towards a herd of cows. Their bells clanged with every movement they made and they sounded like thousand wind chimes in a hurricane. I slowed to a walk as not to disturb them and snap a few photos. The attendant herdsman and his dogs watched me with curiousity. Past the herd, the road turned into rock and dirt but the pitch did not lessen.

I stopped several times in the ascent to snap pictures or take in vistas and images completely alien to my California home...stone roofs, long shed barns, brilliant wildflowers, and glimpses of rocky crests through the gray soggy clouds. My overall pace suffered but I was utterly content and happy.

The rain kept falling but my Marmot Precip jacket was keeping me dry. Even with the high level of heat and sweat I was generating it seemed to ventilate adequately for the run and I didn't feel over-heated. I was probably running a 10-11min mile pace given the incline of the road and desire to allow ample energy to go far without over committing.

I had brought along the trail map, folded for quick reference and protected by the rain by a zip lock bag, and was seeking out one of two trails that branched off the farm road. After a couple false turns, I found one of the trails which followed the contour of the hillside. The trail was faint and underused except by the local cows and now with the rain had become a grassy, cow-pie strewn drain. I decided to find the next trail instead. Another km up the road and 45 mintues into the run; I decided I needed to double back. While taking a runnning tour was absolutely a blast I knew I needed to save some energy for tomorrow's big mountain biking expedition. With some reluctance, I turned around, retracing my path and descended the hard won elevation back towards the inn.

Riding and Running the Matterhorn-Part 1

A business trip had me in Italy and offered up some great running and riding opportunities. The first leg was 4 days in Pisa.

On the am of Day 1, I set off in the early morning as the city was waking up on a running tour of Pisa and the surrounging countryside. I had planned on a light run but the scenery and draw of the distant hills beckoned me. Like the nut-job that I am, I ran towards the country and in 3 miles had exited Pisa and found a country road that pointed in the general direction of the mountain range 5 or 6 miles away. I kept a pretty steady but moderate pace knowing that I wanted to see as much of the countryside as possible without depleting my energy or compromising my hydration (I ran without water). Near my turn back point at the 30 minute mark I picked up a beautiful little trail that ran along an ancient aquaduct. An occasional bike or pedestrian met me with a cheery "Bonjourno!" as I ran. 80 minutes later I was back at my hotel and ready for all the aqua non gas that I could drink!

On Day 2, I kept it light given the time changes and sleep deprivation of international travel. The narrow streets and alley's of Pisa were quiet and there were few afoot as I ran along taking in the sights. I saw no other runners and the few Italians I encountered gave me no second glances so I had to assume I wasn't too foreign a site--but given how much they smoke I'm pretty certain I wasn't the norm either. My run took me down the main river and eventually onto a foot path that meandered down it's banks as it fell slowly away to the Mediterranean Sea some miles down trail. I doubled back at the 25 minute point with the intent of only putting in about 50 minutes on this run. The temperature was ideal--mid 60's--as I ran, the rising sun made the soft mediterranean tones of the buildings, homes, and red tile roofs even more warm and glowing. Along the river, a few hungry fish surfaced for a breakfast of mayflies that seemed to hover along the bank edges.

Day 3 was a rest day to prepare for my weekend of running and biking up in Cervinia--a village at the foot of the Italian side of the famed Matterhorn.....more to follow...

Good Advice

Caveat Emptor: My training notes are those of an amateur.

You want real advice? Ask one of these guys.

I've raced against Silly Rabbits in some 12 hour races. They are strong, tough competitors who are fun to watch. My vantage point is usually a couple hours to the rear of them.

Training Notes

Here's some random things I've learned, practiced, or ignored to my detriment over the last few years:

• During a race, if food starts becoming un-tasty, hard to eat, or I start to lose my appetite, that's a pretty strong indication I'm dehydrated.
  
• One Power Gel every 40 minutes is what I need to stay fueled properly for any race that will last 2 hours or more. I start fueling immediately when racing but my intake is in nibbles and small bites . I try to make the Gel last a full 40 minutes. I wash every nibble down with water. This helps to stave off dehydration problems and ensure I'm adequately hydrating.
• After every 3rd Gel, (2 hours) I substitute a Power Bar (Caramel Crunch is my preferred) in lieu of a Power Gel. I make it last 40 minutes too. Too much fuel in the belly means too much blood in the stomach and that much less for muscles to oxygenate.
• The fueling strategy above works great for running. Riding is more difficult. I recently got a Gel bottle and Bento box to make it easier to easily access fuel and to nibble away. Gel packs while riding can rarely be nibbled...it's an all or nothing proposition. The Gel bottle seems to eliminate that problem. The Bento box helps keep the Gel bottle and other fuel in easy reach..no stops to fumble for fuel.
  
• For 8 hour plus races, a peanut butter honey sandwich works fine for "lunch." I stretch the consumption out over 40 minutes also. Pop a bite in, let it sit, and sip water to wash it down. Same as eating a bar.
• Pre-race or pre-brick meals are critical to performing well. I strive for portion sizes of 1/3 carbs (usually a pasta), 1/3 protein/fat source (usually chicken or salmon), and 1/3 rich veggie (usually spinach).
  
• 5 days straight of training, regardless of cross-training to offset wear and tear, is draining. I rarely do this except in heavy training weeks. Normally, I get a rest day once every 3 days. Usually, its Monday train, Tuesday off, Wed-Fri train, and train either Sat or Sun. Sometimes I schedule both Sat and Sun as training dates and make Friday an off-day instead.
• Except on a treadmill or in the gym, I can't work out to music. Besides, I'm outside and on the trail with ears dedicated to listening for the whistling of the claws of a leaping mountain lion.
• I'm convinced that upper body work is as important for me as a runner and biker as intense cardio work. I hate it, but have seen great benefits from working on overall strength and balance.
  
• Pilates is silly looking but highly effective at building core strength and balance. Things I must have on the trail.
• At 45, I'm not expecting to win any gold medals. Unless they hand them out for having fun. That said, I'm a typical Type A: I'm always competing.
  

Disaster, Recovery, Perspective

Racer X, my training and Adventure Racing partner, tore the meniscus in his right knee. That pretty much dumps this season's races. We're both bummed. For him, it's clearly a big blow--he's facing possible surgery and a few weeks of recovery. Maybe he can be prepared for our October 24 hour race, and we haven't written it off, but the odds are high against it.

For now, I need to recalibrate my goals and training regime. Having a goal provides motivation and drives away the easy and convenient excuses for slacking off or toning down the intensity. Maybe I should coast, but it's not my style. Let's face it, training can sometimes be painful so goals are wonderful reminders at times when the mind says "how about a Sundae instead?"

Because our ARs are skewed towards long cross-country mountain biking, my running distances and times have definitely been far shorter than in the Spring when I trained exclusively for a 50K. As my last post indicates, I love mountain biking too. But, there's only so much time and energy the fully employed family man can afford. So, accordingly, mountain biking was taking up a lot more of my schedule.

With Racer X out for a while, I'm going to try and balance that out somewhat. I love trail running. Today's run reminded me of what I do love about it. I put in a short, steep hill run today up on my favorite local trail. Just a 5.2mi loop with about 800' elevation game; but a good quad and calf power builder. I was the first out on the trail at 0645 and the morning East Bay area sky was it's usual cool, dry, and clear. I hit the top and had to stop--not 'cause I was winded--just needed to take in the beautiful vista that covered the ridgeline forest and the stirring activity of the valley citizens below me. I'm reminded on days like this that one reason I love trail running is not just the chance to get away from the noise and the bustle of city streets, but the chance to get quickly and deep within nature itself and take in great vistas or views of bob-cats, turkeys, deer--nature's bustle of activity.

So, I'm going to reset some goals. Maybe I'll do some half-marathon trail runs for now. This fall I have 4 days in Italy--I hope to run Chamonix or the Matterhorn area. I need to train and be ready for that. I can't wait.

Back on the Bike

A much long overdue update.

Training for the upcoming Adventure Race season began in earnest shortly after my big 50K.

My routine is pretty similar to the ultra training with 2 days at the gym for strength and endurance training mixed in with some running (cuz I like it so much). A total of 5 days of training total. But back on the menu is plenty of delicious mountain biking...dessert...for the sweathead.

My racing partner and a third mountain biking only partner--let's just call him Tinker-- have increasingly been spending some time riding the ridge and surrounding areas. Man I love being back on a bike! My climbs are a strong pace, my downhills pretty decent. Technically, Moab buffed my shine but there's much to be learned. The ride is a custom race frame--"The King"--a scadnium Kona with full suspension, 80mm Fox FLRT front shock, Hayes disks, Shimano XLT dereilleurs, titatanium Shimano SPD pedals, Mavvik SLC wheels, carbon fiber cranks, post, and bars. It weighs in at 25lbs and the weight is nicely and evenly distributed across the bike. I love it!

We've been getting in some nice rides preparing for the upcoming 12 and 24 hour races. Training rides have typically been 16-25 mile rides with a mix of dual and single track. Lots of good climbing. Technically speaking, however, the trails suck. However, even a mediocre ride is better than nothing.

Last week, I put in a good 5 hour brick workout. 1 hour run, 2.75 hour mtb ride, 30 min. strength, 15 min. on the jump rope, and 30 min. on the elliptical. I maintained a nice even level 5-7 effort through most of the brick and finished feeling strong and ready.

I'm feeling strong. My bike is awesome.

Snoqualmie running

Business took me up to Seattle and a conference in Snoqualmie, WA. I arrived early on Wednesday and found a local outfitter who was kind enough to point out some nearby trails in this beautiful lush green area. On his recommendation, I drove up to the trailhead and set out for Rattlesnake Trail to East Peak. The trail snaked up through a dark green forest up a steep climb to Rattlesnake Ledge and then continued up the ridge line to East Peak. Don't let the term ledge fool you. This was a non-stop climb from 900' to nearly 3500'. I expected some flat spots but saw none. Just a pure climb that while tough wasn't a killer. I kept a pretty steady 11:00 pace (I estimate) through switchbacks, smooth trails and the occasional root or rocky cluster along the ridge line. I passed a few hikers but the woods were earily quiet, dark, and sometimes down-right spooky. The wildly different topography and landscape from my East Bay, CA haunts kept my mind distracted and the occassional vistas were ample reward for the effort. Sixty-five minutes and nearly 5 miles later I reached the awesome views from East Peak. Needless to say the pace back down was considerably faster and I reached the trailhead some 35 minutes later.

The next two days the conference I was attending kept me close. Despite the rain, however (and I guess this is just something a Washingtonian just becomes oblivious to), I got out on some forest trails nearby the Salish Lodge. I got in two 10K runs through a very wet, dark, fern filled forest. The trails were a blast--soft, winding, and fast--I felt like a speeder in the forest of the "Empire Strikes Back."

A Goal Reached

5:59:56. Just 4 seconds under my calculated total and run goal for my 31 mile and nearly 8,000 feet of elevation gain birthday trail run. I couldn't have been more pleased with this my first ultra-marathon. Four months of training and untold support of family and friends got me there. What a thrilling way to mark my 45th birthday, albeit in somewhat less than a mainstream manner.

As I sit here with stiff legs some 24 hours later, I am just blown away with this adventure

Sunday started and finished under cloudy skies, cool temps, and light winds. Perfect running conditions. I awoke from a less than ideal sleep at 0500 (pre-race jitters?), ate a bowl of yogurt and granola, downed several glasses of water to pre-hydrate, filled water bladders, rechecked all my equipment, and relaxed with the paper while waiting on Racer X to pick me up at 0630. Bowing to athletic superstition, I wore my ragged, yet favorite, trail running shorts for the run. Racer X was prompt and by 0650 we were at the trailhead (pictured above). Mission and Rose Peaks were shrouded in clouds and already early morning hikers were climbing the slope in front of us. With a shot for posterity (or perhaps to help the coroner in the ID process later), I launched at 0700, as planned.

The first 4 miles were a steep assault up the side of Mission Peak from 390' to 2500'. I quickly transitioned from my intial running pace to a fast walk in order to keep my heart rate within the target zone and to remain prematurely out of the lactic acid building, muscle depleting range that would inevitably come late in the run. Up the face of Mission Peak, I monitored my heart rate and ramped up or down the pace, as needed. Reaching the summit within 39 minutes of the start, I looked to my watch and saw that my heart rate monitor had failed. Had I just died or did it just feel that way? Nope! the monitor strap battery had chosen this day to expire. Shrugging it off, I knew I would now have to listen closely to my body for the rest of the run and rely on internal signals and not electronic ones to judge my overall condition. In effect, it was almost liberating. I was no longer a slave to the HRM. From here on out, it was purely about listening to me, not the metronome of my watch. I picked up my pace and began a comfortable yet brisk descent down into the Sunol Regional Park at roughly 390' elevation.

From Sunol, I met the first 2 miles of a steep climb along the 10 mile climb to Rose Peak at 3500' with strength and plenty of energy. This was the first time I had laced together two segments that I had previously only run as separate training segments. RacerX had planned to meet me 4 miles in from Sunol at BackPacker's Camp. I had told him at the drop-off that I would be there within 02:15 from the start. I couldn't have guessed better on the time nor my calculation about theamout of fuel and water I needed to reach that point. To save weight on the first big climb, I had put as little in my pack, as possible. So I needed to see Racer X at that rendezvous point or I would be running hungry and thirsty! He was there on as expected and I was thrilled to see that I had predicted my time almost to the minute. I had drained my water 1/4 mile before I got there, too! It was an emotional pick-me-up to have him meet me there and I felt great physically and mentally! I was on schedule and on the mark on fuel and water so far.

With a quick change of socks and a re-loading of my pack, I was ready to climb out of the "gravity well" that I had monikered for this dip of terrain in the steady climb to Rose Peak. To get out of the well, however, I had to cover the next 1.5 miles that were virtually un-runnable. Even at a brisk pace I was hitting a very high HR. On this steep upgrade I met and power hiked past a troop of descending boyscouts who met me with strange looks (and I'm sure fouled noses from my stink).

Over the next 2 hours I climbed my way towards Rose Peak. I stuck to my eating schedule and slowly injested aPower Gel or Balance Bar every 40 minutes, taking care to wash every bite or slurp with water. As the climb continued, I increased my water consumption to ensure that I stayed adequately hydrated. I reached the junction of Maggie Ranch and Rose Peak at the 3:39 mark. In order to ensure I got the right amount of total mileage (the trail is only 27 miles and I needed 31), I had to circle the peak twice. That was a mentally tough shot to the head. As I looped back through the mist covered summit into the deserted Maggie Ranch campground near the summit, I stopped to refill my water bladder. Good thing I did. I had nearly drained the 1.5l I had carried and had drank .5l more than expected. For good measure, I filled my bladder bag to the 2.0l mark increasing my weight somewhat as a result. Knowing that my climbing was virtually over and I could afford the extra weight, it was a risk worth taking. On this last critical section when my body would be especially taxed and tired, I could not run short of water. Rose Peak was quiet and even the slight wind within the enveloping cloud was chilling. I was glad to start running again after the short water stop. It was cold and an alien place I now inhabited, both physically and mentally.

In the gray of the cloud and with 10 miles more to go, my confidence was somewhat dampened. The next section would be mainly downhill but my legs were beginning to feel the work. I was now into unknown territory both mentally and physically. I had never run more than 4 hours at a time; I had two to go I now thought--and hoped. And, while I had backpacked this trail once, 5 years ago, I had not trained upon this next section on my runs. How many boogie men lay ahead?

The next 0:40 minutes of running was mainly flat with a few (what were increasingly seeming to be steep) climbs of a 100' here or there. On the ascents, I could feel the muscle fatigue, but they were still strong and I still felt a reservoir of power lay within.

Mentally, I had broken the run into small segments. Running 50K seemed huge and overwhelming. By breaking the run into smaller more manageable sections I could mentally absorb and meet those smaller goals. Running a just a steep 2 mile section here, or just an hour on this flat section there was easeier to do and mentally manage. The mind is a very bad companion to bring along on a long run sometimes. So, at this point, I reminded myself that I only had to do a 10 mile run and I'd be finished. I had done plenty of those! No bigee!! Then I noticed I was talking outloud to myself. And I no longer thought my jokes were funny.

On the initial descent from Rose Peak I began to get some previews of the quad-aching downhills that were going to hit me in the steep descents in the final section of the run. At about the 5:00 mark I passed the marathon distance of 26.1 miles. Passing four backpakers, I cheefully complained, as I powered past, that the hills seem to be getting harder. (The hill was only 25 yards long). Only 5 miles to go. Then the steep descent from 3000' to the 2000' canyon floor below began. At the bottom of the river just 1.5 miles ahead, I would meet RacerX for the final 3.5 miles to the finish. As I descended on the narrow and twisty singletrack, I involuntarily grunted and groaned as tired quads shreaked. Passing a backpacker, he commented that I must have "knees of steel." How funny. I could barely feel my knees, but man my quads ached! I would have preferred the uphill to this pain! But down I went, knowing I was so close. I ran with purpose: below RacerX had my M&M's and he would be my only companion on a this long run and final dash to the finish!

Racer X and I simultaneously hit our meeting point. It was a great euphoric moment. But, the course wasn't done with me yet. It had a few nasty zingers it planned to toss at me. A last parting shot. The next .5 mile was an excruciatingly steep climb back out of the canyon. On fresh legs, Racer X set a brisk walking pace up that hill. Downing a mouthful of M&M's I stiffled a complaint and sought to keep up with him. RacerX kept up a continuous stream of comments and described the course ahead. I grunted here and there to acknowledge him and was grateful for distracting me from focusing on myself and the stiff legs and aching quads that now were a third, and unwelcomed companion on this segment.

The trail now turned steeply down hill. Painfully so. On fresh legs I would have cut loose and let gravity pull me with long stides and fast pace downhill. On tired legs, I postholed each step and grunted and grimaced. I braked instead of letting the clutch out. The quads would not have let me do otherwise I thought. A glance at my watch and a quick calculation of remaining distance said that if I were to make 6:00 hours, I would have to dismiss the pain and ignore the accelerating heart rate and step up the pace. I put the clutch in andwe picked up the pace. In the last half mile I was going flat out. Pain was completely blocked out. I saw the final mile marker and I grunted out the last few yards. Another 200 yards ahead I saw a crowd and recognized my family and friends. A suprise party! A welcome sight indeed as we kept up our pace and finished to a flurry of "hurrahs."

The race was done. The goal was attained. And, so what have I learned? Well, there is the obvious: training hard pays off. Goals can be realized if we apply ourselves. Things that seem insurmountable aren't nearly so if we break them down into smaller and less overwhelming pieces. Sacrifice has it's rewards. And family and friends are more precious and valuable than you give them credit for, even when you value them highly.

But what about the less obvious? I learned that I love challenges and that those goals give me life and appreciation for all those I live with, love, and even meet along the trail. I did this not as race because I wanted to prove to myself what I could do, and did not as a friend pointed out, cheapen it by trying to prove to others what I could do. I raced myself. And, I won. What a wonderful feeling to race yourself and win.

On the edge

Tomorrow is the day. It will be the culmination of 4 months of training when I start out at 0700 and begin the 50K along the Ohlone. On the eve of that run, I'm confident yet anxious. Ready, yet uncertain. Strong but humbled bt what I'll attempt and what the next day will bring.

This last week was restive. Two runs while vacationing in San Diego: a four mile up steep canyon trails in a dry arroyo and 10 miles along the beaches. Both beautiful and different from what I've done to date.

So, tomorrow I will rise and be ready. I know that I have trained hard. I know that the route will tax me physcially and mentally and while I fear them both, I know that ultimately I will succeed. I will complete it. I will even do it within my target of 6 hours. It will be tough. I will be too.