Running Without A Watch - A Transformative Experience

Ellie Greenwood was the first woman to run Western States in under 17 hours, breaking Ann Trason's legendary 1994 course record by almost an hour.  Reading the article in UltraRunning I saw this:

"It's funny.  I don't know splits at Western States. I just run on feel. I had looked at my watch at Rucky Chucky [mile 78], but other than that, I did not look at times.  As I got into that later section, coming into Highway 49, it was like, 'Well, last year I put my headlamp on at Brown's Bar and I still haven't put my headlamp on and I'm still seeing trail." ... "I came up to Robie Point [98.9 miles] and I looked at my watch," she said, - the memory still sweetly confounds her, like a typo in a term paper that still receives an "A," or a notice from the bank that an error has actually broken your way - "and it said 16:34.  I had not expected to see a 16 on that watch"

I was surprised and intrigued.  I thought that elite runners who win races mark their times carefully and record their splits and always use their watch.  I obsesses so much looking at my watch during runs that the idea that she ran one fifth of the race without even looking at her watch was flabbergasting. How could she not look??? She had an inkling that she was breaking the course record.  I couldn't believe she didn't sneak peak.

I found myself spending a lot of time in training runs and ultras staring at my watch.  Agonizing over calculating splits between aid stations or my pace or how this split compares to my last split and so on.  During particularly tough times, I could stare at my watch every few minutes.  And I would stare at it to figure out whether I should eat (every 20 minutes) or take salt (every 45).  I resisted the urge to get a GPS watch because, seeing how I was already glued to my regular watch, I would now also obsess over distance and do even more mental calculations in my head instead of just running.

So the idea that Ellie Greenwood, the best ultrarunner of my time, runs by feel was astonishing, alluring.  One of the reasons that I run is to get out of my head, and staring at my watch and doing all the incoherent agonizing computations is just another way to stay in my head even even while in beautiful wilderness.

Slowly I started relegating the watch to the back seat.  On short training runs, I would only look at my watch at key points.  On long runs with Sarah I would try not to look at all, letting her keep track.  Doing the Woodside 50K race, I only looked at my watch 4-5 times and ate by feel instead of every 20 minutes.  I didn't completely give up the watch.  Could I?

I lost my usual running watch in Iceland.  It was a hunting watch that my dad gave me.  I normally attach it to my CamelBak so I never forget it on long runs and races.  And I have a backup watch in the car.

Going through my stuff in LA as I prepared for the Avalon 50 on Catalina Island, I realized that my watch was not attached to my CamelBak as usual.  Of course - it's somewhere in Iceland.  And I didn't bring the backup.  What am I going to do?!  See if my dad has another to spare (he has quite a collection)?  Buy a full-on running watch?  Or a cheap one at Target?

Or... do completely without.  Can I?  For a 50 miler?

I don't know how to describe the feeling of running without time.  I experienced it once on a run along the beach in Chile.  It was night.  No lights around.  Overcast.  Almost pitch black.  I closed my eyes and ran barefoot.  Feeling with my feet where I needed to be.  I felt suspended.  There.  Moving.  Not going anywhere.

So it was.  After passing the first aid station and spreading out a bit, I found myself in solitude.  I had no idea how far I was from the next aid station.  Or how long I have been going.  I saw pinkish on the horizon and decided I've been going for over an hour (race started at 5 a.m.).  And when the sun came up I figured it had to be about 7.

It was quite a shock when the second aid station came up.  So soon?  It felt like I've only been going for a little bit.  I broke my reverie between 2nd and 3rd aid station by needing to find a bathroom.  And it's not like I wasn't concerned with time.  I trained hard and really wanted to have a fast race and do a sub-10 vs. my previous and only 50M time of 12:45 (on a harder course, as my second ultra).  I even dreamed of getting a 9:30.  Without a watch handy - and I decided not to ask other people for time - I found other ways to think about time.  Like looking at the runners around me and trying to determine whether they looked like mid-packers or back-packers.  A futile exercise.

On yet another view of the weaving, jagged, sunlit Catalina coastline I feel elated and proclaim that no matter how today ends, my day is complete.

I ran into my buddy Howard, who invited me to do the race, on the out-and-back section.  It was his first 50.  He was smiling and doing great.  I couldn't help but ask him what time it was.  5:07 and I'm something like 28 miles in.  Pleasant surprise - I sure didn't feel like I was going that fast.

Followed more solitary running on a long rolling dirt road.  I was running strong and pleased with how well I was doing.  Then I felt the inklings of a cramp in my left hamstring.  Noooo not again!  Cramps plagued me at the recent 50K race too and a couple other races.  I slowed down to a walk before it grounded me, drank lots of water and took salt, but kept moving forward.

Sure dampened my spirits, but there was no choice but to keep going.  Upset that it was happening to me again, I kept moving, albeit at a slower pace.  This is the time when I would be especially obsessive over time.  I wanted to know what time it was so badly.  So I can estimate how soon until the next aid station.  And whether I'm on pace to meet my goal.  And just to give me something to do while I was upset.  But I didn't have a watch.  It was like my mind was in a cage, crashing against the bars trying to find an outlet, a problem to solve.  But there was no problem to solve.  I already did all I could do for myself - slow down - then keep moving.

Over the next 10 miles I also had cramps in my hip, bicep, and inner thigh.  The solution was to walk for a bit, then resume running.  Upset at how slow I was moving, I wanted to do something.  So instead of looking at my watch, it became tempting to agonize over the elevation map.  But I already knew what the upcoming sections looked like.  There was nothing to be gained by taking it out, unfolding it, and staring at it some more.  It would just slow me down.

So I let it go and kept moving enveloped in my own pain and struggle.  Occasionally exchanging words with a fellow traveler (or sufferer).  "Hey Dmitriy!" someone calls over.  "Who is this?" I reply recognizing but not connecting the dots at the same time.  "It's Ken Farley.  You don't recognize me?  Are you delirious?"  He shakes my head in a friendly way.  I smile.  And keep moving forward.

Time blends again.  I'm moving slow and feel like I'm not getting anywhere at all.  Yet the next two aid stations each come faster than expected.

One more uphill walk and I see Avalon from far above!  What a beautiful sight.  The beacon of home.  The chair!  I've been dreaming of being on this downhill for a long time.  Still have to get it done though.  The hamstring and hip cramps on my left side combined with the inner thigh cramp on the right turn my gait to an asymmetrical shuffle not allowing any deviation from that "form."  I make the most of it and slowly eat away at the windy downhill road with gorgeous ocean views.

Some friends of Angela, a girl I've been leapfrogging for a while, come up dressed in funky zebra costumes and pace her in.  That puts a big smile on my face.  Then someone tells me I'm 400m away!  I'm usually skeptical of these things, but lo and behold the town and the finish line unfolds after a few curves!  Wow, almost done!  I'm really here!  I'm beaming.  I get a little bit ahead of Angela as we run into town and hear the clock tower ring.  It must be 3 p.m.

"Well, looks like I'm going to be just about 10 hours," I tell myself, slightly disappointed at not being faster, but just ecstatic to be finished and satisfied at knowing I did my best and reached my goal.

Finish line in sight, I hear rapid footsteps behind me.  Angela is sprinting in from behind.  "I can't believe you're making me sprint!" I glare smiling.  "Come on, Dmitriy!" she yells back.  My legs start moving faster.  "OOO hello calf cramp!" I stumble... but regain my footing and sprint in for the finish at the same time.

"What time is it?!?"

"2:16"

Like Ellie Greenwood, I had not expected to see a 16 on that watch.

First Placement!

Coming into the Big Trees 50K this Sunday I had no expectations.  Having paced Sarah for 12 miles of Miwok 100K, getting little sleep the previous two nights, and a capricious foot, I decided to just go out there, run my best and not worry about the time.  This attitude proved to be key and I am going to work to adopt it going forward.

I wasn't even planning on doing this one until a week ago.  I decided I should have a hard run to cap off these few months of training before going to Utah and Europe where I'm planning to take it easy.

So I got up at 6 a.m. (after going to bed at midnight due to coming back late from Miwok the day before), and headed out to Joaquin Miller park in Oakland.  At the start line I was treated to running into Jenny, an old friend from Caltech who happened to be running the half marathon, as well as Myles, a friend from running.

It was going to be a hot day, so I packed extra Salt Sticks, put on lots of sunscreen and wore a white shirt and hat.  And as always, I carried my 3.5L capacity Camelback.  Also, taking a cue from my previous race where I got dehydrated and cramped up, I started my morning with a chicken soup (running days are the only times I eat normal canned soup nowadays, after going on a low salt diet - it's a good excuse!), tea, orange juice, and 1L of Gatorade.

Unlike my previous race, the Woodside 50K where I really wanted to break 5 hours, I toed the line relaxed.  I told myself that I want to feel good for the first 1.5 loops (the total course is 2.5 loops) and then I will push it on the last loop.  So I took off at a leisurely pace, letting folks pass me easily.

After a short flat section, we came to a steep uphill, where I powerwalked and passed a few people.  Then came the first downhill.  And the downhills for me are very important for a few reasons.  First, I'm really good at them and they're ridiculously fun!  The more technical, rocky, and rooty, the better!  When I'm feeling good, I can just fly down.  Second, with my current strategy of walking/taking it easy on the uphills, I blaze the downhills to make up the time.  Third, the downhill lets me gauge how I'm feeling this day.

So the first downhill came... and I flew!!! Yes, this is going to be a good day after all.  I don't know how well I will do, but I'm feeling good and it's going to be fun, so that's what matters.

The next section had a progression of uphills and downhills.  I caught a bunch of people on the downhills and was blazing fast enough that I wouldn't see most again even when I was walking the uphills.

One particularly fun one was so steep I couldn't even see down it until I was all the way on the edge.  Without hesitation I flowed over the edge, letting the roots, rocks and bumps guide me, like a stream flowing down a mountain.  Nearing to the end of it, I let myself pick up speed until and all out sprint through the short flat section that followed.

SO MUCH FUN.

Had fun running with a couple of half-marathoners.  I kept passing them on the downhills and they would pass me on the uphills.  We'd just wave each other through, and exchange a few words as we passed each other. Blazed through the aid station with just a water refill.

Then came the long exposed uphill leading up to a long exposed ridge.  It wasn't hot quite yet, but I was sweating.  I knew I was going to be passing there two more times and it was going to be rough.

Second time around my downhills were still blazing - a great sign - but the heat was starting to take its toll.  My uphill progress on the exposed ridge slowed down.  I caught with a fellow 50K-er named Micah.  The first 50K-er I saw.  We ran, or more precisely shuffled along, on the hot, exposed, uphill fire road for a while.  I enjoyed having his company through the tough section.

Then we ran into Myles under a tree.  Looks like his stomach was having some issues and he needed calories, so I handed him a Stinger stroopwafel.  And shared some water with Micah from my ample 3L bladder.  Given my cramping experience at the last race, I was taking extra care to stay hydrated and making sure I had plenty of salt.  I was taking salt practically every 30 minutes, a large amount for me.  But it proved to be the right thing - I didn't cramp the whole time.

As we neared a large intersection, I didn't see any ribbons.  Then a guy holding a bunch of ribbons in his hand motioned us in a particular direction.

WAIT A MINUTE!

Is this this guy taking down ribbons?!?!?!  Both Micah and I panicked a little bit.  The guy claimed he was from the aid station, trying to put the ribbons back up after somebody took them down.  Eventually I believed him, but was skeptical.  It was a pretty shitty feeling knowing that there are some people out there actively trying to fuck us over for no reason.

Luckily his advice did indeed take us to the aid station.  I was happy to know that there were folks out there watching our back as well.  I passed Micah around this time and was on my own again, going back to the start line for my final loop.  Blazed another scree-y downhill on the way down - a good sign.  More ribbons were taken down close to the end of the loop, so that was a little bit distressing, but I found my way back.

Jenny already finished her half and helped me refill my water.  I was getting really hot and starting to get less coherent.  I knew the last loop was going to be very rough.  But there was no option but to go back out there, which I did.

And it was rough.  The heat made even the easiest uphills difficult, and the tough vertical uphills excrutiatingly slow.  My breaths would get heavy and shallow even if I increased my effort just a tad.  And the downhills weren't so blazing anymore as my muscles started to get trashed from the heat and exertion.  So I focused on moving forward and drinking water.  This was getting annoying too because I just kept getting air in along with the water and burping.  It made me feel bloated.  But I was peeing often and clear which meant I was well hydrated. 

I didn't see a single 50Ker for about 7 miles or 1.5 hours, until catching up to Melanie around the second aid station.  The guys there were super nice and refilled me for the third time.  Melanie took a few shots of Pepsi.  I decided that sounded temping and took a shot myself.  Only to remember my burping issue.  DOH!

Well, at this point I knew what was coming up.  The 4 miles of hell on the really hot exposed uphill fired road on top of the ridge.  Here we go again.  At this point it became about grinding it out and finishing.  While it would be nice to get under 7 hours, I just wanted to be done and be out of the heat. 

I was completely alone on the ridge.  That is, without other runners.  I passed people here and there, but at that time it was like we were of different planets.  My cheerfulness that was with me for most of the race was fading quickly.  I stopped making eye contact and focused on just moving forward.

And so I chugged along, uphill after uphill.  Thinking the next uphill was the last one... only to be met with one more... and again, over and over, until I groaned with exasperation upon meeting yet another.  And eventually I made it to the aid station.  Another runner, Carl, was there gearing up for the last 1.7 miles.

I had plenty of water and didn't need anything else.  So after chatting with the awesome aid station folks for a minute, I took off for the final stretch.

And ran into the finish in under 7 hours.  There one of the Tims (the two Tims that run InsideTrail) congratulated me on being third.

THIRD?!?!?!

Holy shit, I placed.  My best placement ever by far.  How did that happen, with such a slow time?  Victory by survival.  The top time was only 5:55.  Looked like many folks who would normally be faster than me dropped out or were slowed down by the heat and various problems.  My preparation with pre-hydration, and not pushing the pace initially really paid off as I picked off 4-5 people in the second half.

I enjoyed chatting with the few other folks that finished.  I felt a sense of camaraderie with them as we were the few that stuck it out and overcame adversity.  One of the Tims placed #10 at Miwok the day before, so it was fun hearing his account.  I ate lots of watermelon and enjoyed not having to move.

The next day my legs felt just fine.

I think this marks a turning point in my running.  I felt prepared and experienced on the trail.  I knew how to take care of myself and came in with a good attitude.  And I did really well.

Now that my downhills are really good, I'm going to focus on getting stronger on the uphills.  While being able to blaze downhills helps a lot, it's being strong that makes a runner.  Thinking about it mathematically, we spend a lot more time on the uphills then downhills.  So getting 20% faster on the uphills will make me significantly faster than squeezing out another improvement on the downhills.  If I can improve my uphill, flying downhills will give me the edge.

I'm excited about Angeles Crest 100!!!

Just when you think you've got nothing left

It's been a while since I've done hill intervals, following pulling something in my back in early December. I think hill intervals are key to getting me faster, and my back got better, so it was time to get back into it.

I was dreading it - they hurt and are really hard!!!

This hill, near our house, is about 336m and about 175 ft up or just over 800ft of elevation gain/mile. Pretty healthy as far as hills go.

Anyway, after having a rough day at work (despite it being from home!), I was now looking forward to the hill as a way to leave that all behind.  I wasn't sure how my back was going to react and wanted to do at least 4, and ideally 8.  The most intervals I've ever done on any hill interval work out is 6.  So 8 would be uncharted territory.

I felt pretty sluggish from the start and I think having a stressful day certainly was resonating in my body.  Despite that, I did it in 1:48!!!!  Besting my previous record by perhaps 7 seconds.  I forgot my watch in LA and kept time on my phone, running with it in my hand.

It slid from there to 2:01 and 2:06.

On #4, I died.  The latter part of it I was reduced to shuffling and barely kept myself from walking. Negative thoughts coursed through me, about how this is a terrible day for hill intervals, how I'm not feeling it at all, I'm not having fun, everything hurts, things are not right.  I comforted myself knowing that I would have accomplished my 4, the minimum, and could go home when I'm done.  Needless to say, the time sucked, at 2:31.

And felt exhausted.  I was pretty sure I was going to go home.  After catching my breath at the top of the hill, I started trudging down.  It sucked.  My quads were complaining at every step.  I felt weak and dizzy.  But a faint voice in the back of my mind pleaded with me not to quit yet.  It said, "take a jogging break, as you were going to, then see how you feel."  This voice also said that you don't get better by quitting when things get tough.

So I got down, went to the car to put on a warm jacket (I was so slow going up and down I started getting cold), and started jogging.  I felt so shitty that even jogging was hard.  I walked a big part of it.

But as I was getting back, I found myself not wanting to end it yet.

So I found myself back at the start line.  Uttering "what the fuck are you doing?" I pressed the "Start" button on the phone's time and went up the hill.  My goal was just to make it up the hill without walking.  Just to prove to myself that when I thought I had nothing left, I can squeeze out one more.  So I took it pretty easy.  It didn't feel like a sprint anymore, but a moderate uphill jaunt.

Well, moderate or not, I got 2:27, beating the previous time.  And it didn't feel too bad!!  Well, now this was a lot easier than I expected, let's do one more.  And so I did, in 2:26.  My first negative split!  And still feeling not too bad.  Maybe the first 4 were just warmup, and now I'm actually in gear.  Now I knew I was going to do 8.

The next one was another negative split at 2:21.  And still feeling not too bad.  So I knew I could do better.  My goal for the last one was a 2:15.  I decided to take it easy on the first half, so I could floor it on the second.  It's the second half where I found myself losing a lot of time.  So that's what I did... and got a 2:07!!!  A far cry from the first couple of times, but those don't count for much thanks to fresh legs.  What a comeback!

I felt so happy at the accomplishment and still do.  My day went from bad to awesome in a heartbeat!  And motivating myself to bounce back without anyone else being there to push me is a big confidence booster too.  The Ultrarunning mantra of just keep moving forward really helped.  Right when I felt the shittiest, I told myself that I would just do a little jog instead of quitting.  When jogging got hard I walked.  And then I told myself I would just do one more.  And then I caught my wind.

Right when you feel the worst, just keep going just a little bit longer, and you'll discover that you have more than you think you do.

Bayfront Park - new training ground

Took a little over an hour after work to bike over to the Bayfront Park for a quick workout.  I can already see how it's going to become my default training ground/terrain park.  Created over a landfill and Cargill salt mines, it's not nature's most wonderous wonder.  But it's got gorgeous views of the bay, beautiful sunsets and a plethora of birds of all shapes in sizes, ducks, geese, and even herons.  Most importantly, it's only a 12 minute bike ride away.

A hundred roads, paths and trails spiderweb this fairly small space (about 2 mile perimeter), so I can have a different run every time if I wanted to.  Just go randomly in any direction.  The fun part is that it's got a few good hills, even if small.  So I can really have fun here sprinting up and down the mounds.  There is also one little hill with two paths going down it which are steep and technical.  So even though the hill's only like 25 feet, those would give me some technical downhill/balance practice close to home.  I can already envision sprinting up and down like 10 times in a row.

I'm back!!!

After practically taking a month off due to pulling something in my back at the Death Valley Marathon, I'm finally back on the trails!  So excited to be running in the mountains again.

Did Black Mountain today - 10 miles, 2500 up/down - in 1:50, which was either my best time or second best.  Was super stoked to be up on the mountains again.  Physically, didn't feel particularly great during most of the run... but I suppose the time speaks for itself.  Made it down in 39 minutes and my back held up despite pushing it hard.

Ice ice ice!

Death Valley Marathon... CANCELLED

I ran about a half on the course anyway - it was GORGEOUS.  Really amazing canyon.  A bunch of people from the race came out and ran too, so everyone was there just to run and have fun.  Everyone was really friendly and it was a great time.  I wanted to do more, but my work buddies were waiting at the mouth of the canyon.  It was a bummer to turn back... yet a relief too.  Because the winds really did start getting nasty.  I understood why they cancelled the race.  And that was only about halfway up to the highest point of the race.  It got to the point where I was running uphill and AGAINST the wind which probably came as much as 50 mph gusts with windchill temps probably getting to below zero.  It felt like I wasn't moving much at all... on the other hand, the wind was so strong that it felt kind of cool to really lean into it, like being in one of those wind tunnels.  And then the wind would change and I would almost tumble.  Or get thrown to a side.  

Hilloween

Wow, our ideas of fun have sure changed over the last year.  Instead of finding some crazy costume party, we headed out to Auburn for Hilloween.  The idea is to cover the maximum number of vertical feet in one day.  Whoever goes up the most, wins.

So we stayed at with Elke, our favorite ultra-runner, and went out early morning on Saturday.  Set up camp on the edge of a canyon with a few more crazy people, many of them in costumes... and there it goes.  Down we go to the bottom of the canyon, over the bridge, all the way up to the other side, then turn around and come all the way back to camp.  Rinse and repeat as many times as you want to maximize vertical gain.

Each trip there and back is about 6 miles and 3000 ft.  Sarah and I did two, and then had to go back with Elke. Some other folks did three.  Hilloween is a "virtual" event, so other people participated too with their own hills in other places.  So it's still unclear who won.

It was my first serious trail run since Wasatch and it went pretty well.

Quick Wasatch Recap

Well... I'm really happy to say that we somehow pulled this thing off, and with no small thanks to your guidance in those early days!  

I psyched myself up so much about how ridiculously hard it was going to be, that it didn't turn out as hard as I expected.  I never hit the wall or thought of dropping. It was certainly the toughest thing I've ever done on the whole, but there was never really like an intense moment of pain/misery or what have you.  I think this is probably because 1) Sarah had a really tough race (massive blisters, cramping, pulled hammy) so a lot of the time I wasn't running at my full, and 2) we came in with the mentality to finish instead of going fast or pushing for a particular time.  I think both of those things helped ensure that we didn't go out fast or took risks.

I think that really helped in training too.. when we gave up any ambition to get sub-30 (hah!) and just went for finish.  So much was riding on the race, that we didn't push hard in training (at least pace-wise) and just focused on staying injury-free and on getting our bodies ready to take 100 miles of punishment. This resulted in doing many really long runs (40+) at really slow pace!  We figured with a 36 hour time limit, if we can only keep moving, we should be able to finish, which is about what happened!

I did so great shifting my schedule to go to bed by 9 and wake up really early leading up to the race... and then I couldn't sleep well like the 2 nights before.  Ah prerace jitters!  So I think that affected my energy levels.  Though the first like 25 miles we made good time and then the adrenaline wore off and came a low... which went away after a 1/2 caffeine gu!  And then came my favorite section around mile 30 where we ran on top of a ridge with gorgeous views on each side, and that made me really happy. 

Getting into Big Mountain and seeing our crew, Sarah's family and a few friends was a HUGE BOOST!  I almost broke down crying.  They even made wedding shirts and were all wearing them!  We were SO good at not spending much time at aid stations and treating them as a buffet.  I was really proud of us.  I think we averaged 2-3 minutes and even skipped some... EXCEPT for crew stations where we averaged like 20 :).  We were all new at this and sometimes there were too many cooks in the kitchen.  Brighton was probably the craziest aid station I'll ever have.  It was so crazy getting in there feeling pretty shitty in the middle of the night, after being out there for a long-ass time, and a bunch of our friends and my co-workers are there all high energy and happy to see us.  It was kind of surreal.  I enjoyed double-fisting a Red Bull and a chicken soup :).

Another low point came sometime between Lambs & Big Mountain.  Sarah decided to stay behind a guy that I thought was going way too slow, and I started fretting about time, and that made me feel more tired, and there was a lightning storm in the distance that looked beautiful and ominous.  So I think there was definitely a little bit of running-partner tension going on there, but we both did a good job of mellowing out and encouraging the other person.  And having a pacer helped too.  

We started slowing down going towards Brighton.  Sarah had a nasty cramp before Mills, which turned into a pulled hamstring, and the long walk on the road to Millcreek really exacerbated her blisters.  So that was a long slug through the dark... I remember seeing that Scott's peak campfire from the distance.  So alluring and so far.  We did a good job having our pacers run ahead and refill us so we didn't spend much time at the aid stations, even the ones with campfires :).  Somehow we wound up getting to Brighton within our time frame of 5-7, just after 5.  

So at that point we knew we should be able to make it unless something bad happens.  After spending 25 minutes (!!!) at Brighton getting fixed, eating, and hanging out with various folks that came out, our crew ushered us out.  Elke, whom you've met, the only ultrarunner on our crew, got us at this point. While all of our pacers were awesome and helpful, it was particularly comforting to have all her experience during that last stretch.  Ironically we did not let our pacer set the pace.  Already feeling really beat and knowing that we didn't have to move particularly fast to finish, we were happy to slog along.  

Mile 90 was the lowest point for me.  After taking one of those Plunges or Dives, and then seeing the ribbon point to an uphill just as nasty and just as steep, oh how I was cursing the race organizers.  THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE ALL DOWNHILL NOW!!! WTF?!  It was getting hot and I was still wearing my tights from the night.  So I had to yell for Sarah and Elke to slow down.  All in all it took 10 hours for the last 25.  We could have been a bit faster if we wanted to... but at that point we just wanted to finish and get married :).

And after we hit Pot Bottom... we just became really happy.  At this point we knew were were going to finish even if we crawled.  We got lovey-dovey and I called a couple of people at the finish to give them an ETA.  I felt giddy... which was an interesting feeling when combined with fatigue from having run 93 miles.  Elke made one last valiant attempt to set the pace... we tried to follow, but it was too hard and painful... and what for?  Just to get an extra 15 minutes off our time?  Na... let's just finish and get married.  

And having everyone out there throwing rose petals at us as we walked down "the aisle", oh it was the most magical moment of my life.  The whole thing was a dream at this point.  It got captured pretty well here: http://connect2utah.com/news-story/?watch=1&nxd_id=163277.

Oh and my stomach had no problems at all, luckily.  I mean at the end, I didn't want to eat anything but soup, and just took my gel and perpetuem as medicine every 20 minutes.  But no troubles.  And the sleep thing worked out OK too.  I think being a high-strung person, skipping one night of sleep wasn't a huge deal.  Finishing the race, I was SO stiff... I needed those hand rails in the bathroom to sit down (which weren't there!!!  Don't older couples ever take the honeymoon suite??).  But the most amazing thing was that the next day... I was able to jump around, dance wildly at our wedding, and pretty much do whatever I wanted!  I felt like there was a price that I should pay soon for putting myself through that... but it never came.  I was certainly fatigued the first few days of our honeymoon in Bali, but nothing prohibitive.  Sarah had a much tougher recovery, with elephant legs, 4 toenails coming off, and the pulled hamstring... but on about day 6 of the honeymoon, we couldn't help it but uprooted ourselves from a paradise beach with corals and snorkeling and climbed the island's highest volcano (5000ft climb in under 2.5 miles), so I guess we recovered OK :).

Yeah, so I think I'm sold on this 100 mile thing.  I'm right about to pull the trigger to sign up for AC. I definitely want to do this one while I'm still in LA.  And I also want to put my name in the bucket for WS.  In the likely event that I/we won't get in, I think we'll shoot for Wasatch or TRT.  My goal now is to get fast.  I really want to do one of these races where I push hard and give it my all.  Go to the brink.  Run more and faster!  Feel the wind against my face.  I'd shoot for under 24 if I get into WS, and def. sub-30 for Wasatch.  And Sarah and I will do a race or two together, perhaps a 100 and a 50.  We really do enjoy running together.  

Back into it

Well... we did it!  The quest from running 400m to running 100miles in just about a year.  I'd like to write a longer recap of the race... but never got around to it.  But I think the pictures and videos that are being put together by Michael Shlain will suffice for now.

On the whole, Wasatch was the hardest thing I've ever done... but it wasn't as hard as I expected.  I think because running together, there were times Sarah had to wait for me, and I for her.  Which means neither of us were running at our hardest.

And I think I'm hooked!  I'd like to run two 100 mile races this year.  Definitely the AC100 (Angeles Crest) in LA, and one more (Western States? *fingers crossed* - only 10% chance to get in through the lottery).  But more importantly... my goal this year is to get faster.  I want to push hard and go to the brink.

If I run Western States, I'd like to do sub-24.  If I was to do the Wasatch again, sub-30, perhaps 28-29, would be the goal.  Also I want to get faster to feel even more free on my run.  To feel the wind in my face more often than not.  To have more unbound energy instead of trudging up the hills.  That would be fun!  Oh, and if I'm faster, I can have more of a life while getting my runs in.  Running 30 miles in, say, 6 hours, would be much better than 10.

So to get there, I decided to push hard on my workouts and do more sprints/intervals where I push hard.  Now that I got the base mileage under my belt and my legs can take the punishment, I can focus on going fast.

Today I ran a 45:10 10K, which is by far my best time, though I never tried that hard before.  My previous best time was maybe 49 or 50.  It was HARD.  My legs performed just fine but I couldn't get enough air. Just panting and panting while occasionally able to get a full breath in which felt SO good... for about 10 seconds.

I could have squeezed a bit more out of me, though it was a good workout on the whole.  That's the hard part about running distance is figuring out early on how much to push now vs. how much to leave for the final lap.

Solo run

Sarah was still not feeling well, so I set out for a fast sol run (and I had a time constraint to be back by 7, so I can have time to shower and pack for my bachelor party, and then make it to a 9 p.m. flight).

This was my first long solo run in a while.  One big difference between running with someone or a group vs. solo is the ability to really micromanage ones body.  One moment I'm feeling pretty good, so I pick up the pace.  Another moment  I get winded on an uphill so I walk for a few moments.  Then I'm feeling dehydrated, so I slow the pace way down and drink.

I went up Black Mountain, and then down into the canyon and to Skyline, where Sarah met me as my aid station and bandaged up a blister on the back of my heel while giving me a burrito and refilling my water.  Sweetest fiance ever!  I also met a cool Russian optics physicist on the way and talked to him about cell phone cameras.

Then it was back down into the canyon, and then back up to Black Mountain, and then back down to the parking lot where Sarah arrived just as I got back.

I was able to keep a brisk pace, moving at roughly 12 minute miles on average for 21.5 miles, despite about a 5000-5500ft elevation gain.  Not bad at all!

I felt great at the finish and still feeling good now.  So I suppose this is my peaking workout.  I got one more hard run coming up - going to do Mt. Wilson up and down on Wednesday, and will try to run as much as possible on the way up.  And after that is tapering.  Probably an easy 20 miler in the Marine Headlands 2 weeks pre-race, and then bring it to maybe 10 miles the last weekend pre-race.

So excited!