Why?

Here is something I posted to FB yesterday. Thought I may as well post it here too:

People often ask why I run. I think I have an answer.

I am travelling for work in So. California.

Tuesday, I find an urban wilderness area. Trails and a mountain within sight of downtown LA. Tough hill climbs, but great fun, you could hear birds chirping at the same time as traffic noises.

Tuesday - a different city, out in the desert. I'm jogging through the streets and a park close to my hotel, it's 104 degrees of dry heat. I come across some citrus trees in the park and pick a fresh satsuma from one, and a grapefruit from another. So deliciously sweet, fresh and still warm having been infused with desert sunshine. Perfect recovery meal!

Then today - I stumble across a State Park - I see mountains, I see ocean. I see a trail. I haul myself up a mountain, with wonderful views of the ocean, and eventually work my way back down to the beach. Where I run on the sand dodging the surf - eventually running in the surf. Finally, covered in sweat, salt and with aching calf muscles from all the climbing, I wade into the Pacific to rinse off and cool off my legs. Awesomeness. Pure awesomeness.

Now on Saturday, I get to spend the day and having fun with a whole bunch of crazies running 5k after 5k who will totally get where I am coming from.

Why do I run? You just sometimes never know what you will find. That's why I run.

Note: I am posting this from a plane – for some reason the WiFi is not allowing me to post with pictures – I guess I will add those later.

Guest Bloggers sought:

I’m thinking of expanding SoFarFromNormal to include some guest writers/posters. So, are you interested in writing some posts about running and randomness? Get in touch!

Why?

Here is something I posted to FB yesterday. Thought I may as well post it here too:

People often ask why I run. I think I have an answer.

I am travelling for work in So. California.

Tuesday, I find an urban wilderness area. Trails and a mountain within sight of downtown LA. Tough hill climbs, but great fun, you could hear birds chirping at the same time as traffic noises.

Tuesday - a different city, out in the desert. I'm jogging through the streets and a park close to my hotel, it's 104 degrees of dry heat. I come across some citrus trees in the park and pick a fresh satsuma from one, and a grapefruit from another. So deliciously sweet, fresh and still warm having been infused with desert sunshine. Perfect recovery meal!

Then today - I stumble across a State Park - I see mountains, I see ocean. I see a trail. I haul myself up a mountain, with wonderful views of the ocean, and eventually work my way back down to the beach. Where I run on the sand dodging the surf - eventually running in the surf. Finally, covered in sweat, salt and with aching calf muscles from all the climbing, I wade into the Pacific to rinse off and cool off my legs. Awesomeness. Pure awesomeness.

Now on Saturday, I get to spend the day and having fun with a whole bunch of crazies running 5k after 5k who will totally get where I am coming from.

Why do I run? You just sometimes never know what you will find. That's why I run.

Note: I am posting this from a plane – for some reason the WiFi is not allowing me to post with pictures – I guess I will add those later.

Guest Bloggers sought:

I’m thinking of expanding SoFarFromNormal to include some guest writers/posters. So, are you interested in writing some posts about running and randomness? Get in touch!

3-Days-At-The-Fair. Awesomeness 0.8578 Miles at a time.

 

After the Medoc Trail Marathon last year, I had a conversation with my friend Alanna who had travelled south for a number of races, that I should perhaps visit the Garden State to do one of their races.

Yeah, why not?

3-Days-At-The-Fair seemed like a good one to pick. It’s in May, so it shouldn’t be cold (FLOFL). I have heard good things about it, and besides, I like short loop timed races.

For 48 hours.

Yep, you read that right, it was going to be my first 48 hour race, and I really had no idea what to expect.

In the days leading up to the race, I was working on the West Coast. My flight back would not get me back to Raleigh until 11pm, home by midight – making it difficult to be in NJ for the race start at 8am. Whatever. It is a timed race, and a late start would not matter.

8 hours after landing the night before, 4 of which were spent sleeping, I was back at RDU to fly to Philly to meet Meredith who was going to give me a ride to the race.

By the time I was ready to start, it was about 5:30pm. 38.5 hours to go.

Targets – Goal #1 100 miles.
Goal #2 – 100+ miles. Just the furthest I had ran, in other words, just one more lap.
Goal #3 – My WTF? LOL Goal – 200K. 124 miles.

It felt very strange to be starting on my own – there were people who had ben running for 34 hours in the 72 hour race saying “Good job” as I jogged past them, I felt like an imposter for a while.

The late afternoon weather was actually pretty warm. I ran several laps with Alanna, also said “hi” to other friends out there – Steve, Paul and Super Dave running the 72 hour, Tammy running the 48, Jessi in the aid station.

The miles clipped away, slowly of course, but they were starting to add up. One thing that felt strange, only mentally strange, but it bothered me a little – the loop length about every 7 laps would screw with my head. You see, every 6 or 7 laps or so, you would start a lap at (say) 12.04 miles, twelve-point-something – come around to the start again at 12.9 – still twelve-point-something. Felt like you hadn’t moved at all. It screwed with my head. (I have since learned that they are going to make the course exactly one mile for next year. I like that.

The aid station truly was terrific. Because the race was in the state fairgrounds, the start/finish area went right past a fully stocked kitchen. You want something to eat, order it, go run a loop and when you get around again, it is cooked and ready to go. I liked that. That said, for the first several hours, I mainly stuck with fresh fruit.

Alanna went off for some sleep at about 11-ish – I wanted to carry on until I had at least 30 miles on the board. Headphones in and plod away.

A few things happened during this portion of the night, 1) it got cold. My hilarious joke (which I told several times) was "Do you know what we call this kind of weather in North Carolina?………………. Fucking January, that’s what”. (WTF? LOL) But really, it did hit the 30’s, and I ended up breaking one of my race rules, and wearing the race schwag, a rain jacket, to keep warm – nice!. The other thing that happened as I chalked up the miles was 2) I got tired. I mean really really exhausted. Yawning all the time type of tired. And 3) I established “The Pattern” – my way of picking my running and walking spots for the whole loop. It went like this. From the start – walk up the slight incline, right turn, and go past tent city, left turn and left again taking the short cut by the fire hydrant. Slight down hill now – start jogging, right turn through the gate, walk up the hill to the yellow barrier, left turn, jog down the hill to the second trash barrel on the left, walk to the next trash barrel, left turn, jog to the first lamp post – then run/walk every other lamp post. Left turn onto the gravel part – walk until the right turn on the “home stretch”, jog to the final left turn, and then walk to start finish.

Did I mention that I was cold. And tired?

Sometime around 1 or 2am , I got the 30 mile mark and that was the point I decided to sleep. Or at least try. I was wrapped in my snuggy type thing (it isn’t a real snuggy – more like a sleeping bag with no bottom so you can walk around.) in a failed attempt to remain warm.

I lay down for over 3 hours and could not sleep for a second. And yet I was so exhausted. My mind wouldn’t switch off. The cold was a problem too. Do you know what we call that type of cold in North Carolina?

Around 5:00 to 5:30,  I decided to get up and start moving again. Exhausted still, cold but with a little renewed energy in my legs, I started moving again.

Approaching the start/finish, I could smell bacon. YEAH! It’s breakfast time.

The sunrise and a breakfast of coffee, an English muffin and bacon brought with it some warmth

As the day wore on, exhaustion was still the big problem though. So utterly utterly tired. Even the tried and tested NoDoz capsules washed down with a coke seemed to have a limited effect.

From time to time, I would rest and try to sleep. Even a few minutes would have helped. But no dice.

New friends joined in the race, Mandy and Meredith were running the 24 hour event.

And so it went. Lap after lap after lap after lap. Sometimes running alone with just my headphones, and sometimes with company. Miles slowly increasing. Each time I crossed into a "new decade”, I would quietly celebrate.

I would still try and cat a from time to time. No luck, I even had one of Todd’s beers to help switch my mind off. Nothing. <Ugh>

I remember walking a loop with Tammy, the conversation about one of the energy drinks they had at the aid station had me in hysterics – the drink was called “Cocaine”, much giggling ensued when we asked for a straw made out of a dollar bill, a razor blade and a mirror to go with our “Cocaine”. Well, I guess you just had to be there.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning of my second night, I crossed 90 miles, and decided to call it a “day”. Tired, so tired. And yet I still couldn’t sleep. Not for a second. <Sigh>.

5am, I was moving again, knowing that barring a disaster, I would get 100 miles. By that time though, that was my one and only goal, I truly didn’t care about the other goals.

Super Dave in the 72 hour race was desperate to get to 200 miles – he was at 180 or so. I don’t think I have ever seen so much determination, he would lap me frequently on his way – he reached his goal. Quite something to watch.

From time to time, even this late I the race, I still tried to get a quick 10 minute nap – but nope, nothing.

The homeless looking guy in the chair – that would be me trying to grab some sleep

Sometime around 8:00 with an hour to go, I finished my 116th lap. One more to go for 100 miles. Alanna was on the same loop as me, but just a few minutes behind, so I waited, and we completed our last lap together. Steve kept us company as we ran “The Pattern” just one more time.

And finally, 47-1/4 hours into the race, I finished 100.36 miles.

I was so happy to be stopped. And tired.

Jimbo and Alanna finishing up 100 miles with Steve for company

A shower and a pig out breakfast was a wonderful way to cap off a satisfying run. 100.36 miles is a long way – even though it is my 5th time I have run 100 miles, it is still a long way! Being awake for over 48 hours is a long time.

So, conclusion? I really liked this race. The RD, Rick and his family really go out of their way to support and encourage the runners. The volunteers were as entertaining as they were awesome, and there was certainly nothing that I felt that I needed which wasn’t available. Apart from warm nights and sleep.

I’m thinking 72 hours next year. Really.

 

A weird sort family tree of awesomeness and pivot points

A friend of mine posted on her blog about her “Pivot Point”. Her pivot point was when she bought  Dean Karnazes’ book, Ultramarathon Man, and how things changed for from that point forward – she asks others for their pivot point. Now that struck a chord with me, because Dean’s book was certainly a significant pivot point for me, it was that book which led to the dream of one day doing Western States, which led to finding out about Umstead, and so it goes. I couldn’t think of just one pivot point though, I think I have several, kinda like several branches of a family tree. So, Shelley, thanks for the idea and inspiration, I am copying it, and how various decisions have gone on to be significant in my running career (career. WTF? LOL)

The first line in this family tree, or the patriarchal pivot point so to speak, was of course deciding to try and run. This being prompted by reading an article about another random 40 something year old man dropping dead of a heart attack. I was approaching my 40th birthday. I had the choice to make, I could either make the decade of my 40’s be my last one, and live life to the “fullest”, have a blast, and probably drop dead. Or I could quit smoking, and start exercising, and make it so that this decade is just “half-way” point. I suspect you know, I chose the latter. As it happens, now 75% into my 4th decade, I feel like I am living life to the fullest, and I am most certainly having a blast.

That decision, led to tears of joy at being able to completely run a 2.4 mile loop at Valley Forge Park – I had walked it often with the dogs, and after the decision to start running, I wanted to run it all the way round. It took 2 or 3 months until I could do that. I was so happy! That was the moment, I considered myself a runner when I finally completed that loop.

Which led me to my first races – a half marathon. More races followed, a few 5k’s, 10k’s here and there another half or two, eventually in 2007 to my first and second marathon.

Somewhere between my second and third marathon came the next pivot point, I was traveling to Canada for work, and like Shelley, I picked up Dean’s book. I was at Toronto’s International Airport. I didn’t read it for a few weeks, but it was in my backpack. I started reading while I was stuck in BWI airport on another work trip, having been rerouted because of weather. I couldn’t put it down. And by the time I had eventually got to my destination in Salt Lake, I had finished the book, and started dreaming of doing the Western States 100 mile run. I actually sent an email to Dean, thanking him for writing the book, and was very surprised when he wrote back. I was now inspired, and at that point decided to set myself a goal of completing Western States. Just how to get there though, and what races would I need to do to build up to a 100 miles? Google provided the answer. Umstead.

Umstead 50 mile and 100 mile ultramarathon – the next leg of the family tree. I signed up for 50 miles, my first ultra. The race was April 2009. This is where the tree branches some. A whole ton of awesomeness came out of this one.

Let’s go down one of these branches. Meeting Frankie. Frankie and I have become solid friends, and that random conversation out there on the trail has led to me running in mountains of Wyoming, pacing a champion at another race in mountains in Wyoming, falling in love with mountains, my first 100 mile run in Boulder and running the Tahoe Rim Trail – 50 miles and then a 100.

Also at Umstead, I ran briefly with Jimmy. Jimmy asked me where I lived, and when I told him, he told me I should join the Mangum Track Club, he told me about about the number of races they have all less than a couple of hours drive from my home. Weymouth Woods, The Boogie, Ellerbe Springs Marathon, Hinson Lake, Derby 50k all put on by members of MTC. Sometime later, I did  the “shirt run” and found out there lots of other people who do ultras in my area – many friendships, races and training runs with new friends later, I can certainly look back at that time on the trail with Jimmy as a significant pivot point.

Also during that run at Umstead, I was lapped several times by the eventual winner, Dave James. Each time he lapped me, Dave had an encouraging word or two to say to me. I loved how the race leader actually spent a couple of seconds to acknowledge my efforts. I have since learned that it is not uncommon during ultras for the elites and front runners to offer up some support and pass the time of day with us back-of-the-packers. This to me, was pretty inspirational. So much so, that one day a few months later, after a few beers, I sent Dave a note through Facebook, and told him as much and thanked him. Dave and I keep in touch and also enjoy sinking a few when I find myself in his home state. Those few seconds to encourage me at Umstead meant a huge amount to me, and was certainly one of the reasons I love this sport.

This led to another branch of this tree – I offered to crew Dave at Freedom Park 24 hour race. While at Freedom Park, I met the person who has become my friend, mentor, part time therapist and unpaid coach Shannon. Shannon is the Queen of Awesome, a wonderful person who inspires people daily (including me).  The whole “Team Awesome” concept is Shannon’s brainchild. I have met several friends through that – and have even clocked my first “wins” and even have a couple of course records at the relay event at Hampton.

Also, at this Freedom Park race, I met Meredith, someone who I had only known “virtually” prior to then – I will be crewing at Badwater for third time (second time for Meredith) as a result of this meeting.

Finally, that decision to help Dave out at Freedom Park meant I got to meet Ray K, a legend in the sport having completed a mere 500+ ultras. Ray will give out advice (and bad tunes) freely, and anyone who has ever spent any time running with Ray will know that it is quite the experience.

So, that first Umstead was clearly a huge pivot point and many branches of the “Tree of Awesomeness” have grown from there, many good friends and many races.

A more recent pivot point – BCRT, Brick City Running Tribe. Yep, my home town of Sanford has a running group. No, really, we do! I learned about this when I got a local paper one day – no idea if it was a marketing thing, or we were delivered the paper by mistake, but there was an article about the running group meeting up on Tuesdays, so I went down with the pups one week, and made a whole bunch of new friends. Ultimately – the fact that Sanford had embraced a running group was one of the reasons I put on my Boxing Day Madness Fat Ass run, and have now become a Race Director.

This sport has given me so much – I have learned so much and made so many friends. But what was the tipping point? Umstead? A few beers on my porch?Freedom Park? Or how about buying Dean’s book? Yep, there have been many moments, some documented here, others not, some big, some small. Ultimately though, I guess some fat forty-something year old smoker dropping dead was probably it. His death gave me life.

Unicorns and awesomeness

My friend Stephanie was tired of having to travel at least a couple of hours from Carolina Beach to any races and runs she wanted to do.

So she decided to put on a race in her home town.

The First Annual Prancing Unicorn and Polydactyl Kitten Fat Ass Race was born. I just had participate – just because of the name if nothing else. Especially when I found out I could purchase a t-shirt. Who could possibly resist a raspberry colored t-shirt with kittens and unicorns on it? Not me

Steph mapped out a 50k course, sprayed green arrows on the course, dropped a few gallon jugs of water around. There you have it. Now, I was not sure how far I wanted to run – I brought the pups, so really didn’t want to run too much especially as warm weather was predicted. Certainly less than 20 miles.

In the end, I ran with my friend Blanca – we ran an easy 13.1 and figured that would do.

Beer and cheeseburgers wrapped up the day nicely at Carolina Beach State Park.

24 Hour Run for Cancer

Team Awesome 2012.

Remember this race from last year? 2011 race report The 12 members of Team Awesome set a course record of  802.5  miles. Obviously, the mission this year was to beat it.

But let’s go back a few days. On the Monday evening  before the race, I was trying to "forge” a new trail in my back yard. With a lot of switchbacks, and some back tracking (and a little trespassing onto a neighboring unoccupied/undeveloped property) – I can get a mile, cool eh?. Anyway, a little earlier in the day, I had had a fantastic lunch time run at Umstead, and like an idiot, I posted on Facebook how awesome that run was. DOH! Talk about tempting Murphy. Well, Murphy did duly arrive and while bushwhacking later in the day, I managed to trip over something, and re-injuring my Achilles tendon again. Crap. In an effort to heal in time for the race, I did not run another step until I toed the line in Hampton VA on Saturday morning.

I always want to shoot for 100 miles in these 24 hour races, but set a relatively doable goal of 75 miles – 100 miles being the “WTF? LOL goal”. As soon as I started, I pretty much knew that my Achilles wasn’t going to let that happen, and the goal was realigned to beat last year’s total of 57.25 miles.

I also wanted to continue my experiments with “The Method of Doom”, in other words, even slow steady splits, and see how long I could maintain it. I settled on a time of 52 minutes for the 3.75 mile loop. If I get in early, instead of “banking” the time, I would sit down and rest and take care of any issues or eat/drink etc. This worked perfectly for 9 laps, and on lap 10, my pace backed off, likely due to the heat of the day. Hindsight being 20/20, I would perhaps slowed my pace earlier – or even started off with say 55 minutes per lap. Still lessons were learned. Throughout the day, the Achilles gave me grief – it didn’t get worse, but was ever present. After 10 laps – I would just plod through a loop, plenty of walking, and then rest up, run another lap.

During the night it rained – a cold rain, and to be perfectly frank, I don’t like being cold and wet – by that time, I had 56.25 miles, I was sore, and decided to call it a day, with a plan to run a mile in the morning in order to get my total to at least equal last years total. FAIL. The cold rain continued in to the morning, ad I really had no inkling to do even just one more mile – I was sore and tired.

Thankfully though, Tom did do one mile. We beat our previous record my just 3/4 mile. So, YEAH! A win and a course record for Team Awesome.

There was a whole ton of Awesomeness for Team Awesome. Kati, Ladonna and Mike – first time Ultras with 52.5, 63.75 and 75 miles respectively (I think 26.2 was the furthest they had ever run). How about Frank? – returning from hip surgery a few months ago, and hasn’t ran more than 11 miles since – well Frank ran 50! Cheryl – first place woman with 100 miles. Awesome. Alanna, recovering from 100 miles at Umstead ran 52.5.  My friend, mentor, part time therapist and unpaid coach Shannon, despite getting pretty sick early, still put up 67.5 miles. Tom did one more mile than his total last year – 83.5. John, Matt and Tony all put in good shifts with 67.5, 75, and 60 miles.

So much fun, good to catch up with friends and make new ones!

expanding my blogosphere

 

It always stuns me how many people stumble onto these pages. Some even come back for more – many even leave comments (125 followers – WTF? LOL)

It occurred to me that many of you dear readers also have blogs, websites etc. etc.  I do follow quite a few blogs – especially if you have left comments, but I would bet that there are many I don’t even know about, because you may not be “commenters”, but more “readers” – so  I may never know of the existence of your site, and I could be missing out on good stuff. And I like good stuff.

So, here is a request: If you read this page, and you have a blog or website, and you think it is at least somewhat relevant, why not go ahead and comment below, with a link and a description? I would be happy to check out your site and I probably need to update my “Blog Roll” anyway.

Thanks in advance from the SoFarFromNormal  Blog Team

Getting my rocks off at Umstead

With a title like “getting my rocks off” I had perhaps explain…….

A few weeks ago, my friend Lauren and I were doing a training run at Umstead – I did 20 miles, Lauren did one more lap for 30. As we ran, we had a conversation about the 100 mile race – we had an idea about how we could symbolize each of the 8 laps. So, when I was helping out at the Ellerbe Volunteer Marathon, I picked up 16 quartz rocks at “The Dog Pen” – the place where the Mangum Track Club Shirt Runs end. On Wednesday before the race, I placed two piles of 8 rocks next to a tree at the top of “Effing Hill”. One pile for Lauren, one for me. Lauren got all of her rocks off, she threw one into the woods each time she passed the spot – me, well I brought a rock back to my truck each time I passed the pile. But I didn’t get my rocks off. There are three rocks left in my pile. Bollox.

I guess that is a roundabout way of saying Umstead didn’t go to plan. Bolloxed it up comes to mind. But did I? I mean, I got a 50 mile PR – first ever sub 11 hours. I think my 100k split was also a PR too. But I didn’t sign up for a 50. Or 100k even, I signed up for a 100 miles.

Here’s what happened – four solid 12.5 mile loops, all pretty evenly split, which got me in for 50 miles at around 10:50 (it’s very nice to have the Western States qualifier in the bag already). The fifth loop started off with a break before heading out with my pacer Deanna (awesome pacer by the way). It was always going to be a slower loop – I anticipated that. It’s tough to get going after the extended rest, plus it takes a while to get used to running in the dark. Plus of course I had already done a hard 50, and the fatigue kicks in. Yeah, I expected all that. What I didn’t expect were the sharp pains in my Achilles when going up hills that started just after the half way point. As the lap progressed the pain got worse. I am not sure when I started to worry – probably with a couple of miles to go, I probably expressed some doubt to Deanna while going up Cemetery Hill with a mile or so to go. I definitely decided I was going to see the medics at the main s/f area.

Guido took a look at my leg, detected some inflammation and raised temperature around my Achilles area, and told me that the weird tingling I felt in my ankle when I touched my calf pointed towards an Achilles strain –  he did additional tests and suspected that it was not likely a tear. He told me that it was up to me if I continued – but it wouldn’t improve by running, and that I haven’t got a tear. Yet. And I should look at the time left, and would I be able to finish if I limped through the remaining loops?  And “did I know how long a tear takes to heal compared to a strain”? I did take it as a hint, but it seemed pretty certain he wasn’t going to “call it a day” on my behalf.

Ice for 20 minutes, then a test jog. I could walk slowly with not much pain – but up hills and actually running gave me those shooting pains.

DoNothingStupid Jimbo, DoNothingStupid. I made the decision and DidNothingStupid – and told Guido, who told me that was a smart choice. But egads it hurts. It's disappointing. It sucks.

But remember this? It was a very fast 5k – well the day after that, I had Achilles pain – to quote: “I noticed a minor tweak in my left Achilles tendon” – but decided on “sucking it up buttercup” and ran through it. For quite a few days. I really can be a dumb ass some times. In all fairness, I did run 57 or so miles with no issues, but I guess it hadn’t healed properly.

All of the bad stuff aside, the disappointment was extremely well diluted by a considerable amount of awesomeness. The awesomeness of seeing so many friends meet or beat their goals. The awesomeness of the whole Umstead experience. The awesomeness of the race management, and the supreme awesomeness of all of the wonderful volunteers (Guido in particular) – truly, thank you all for being there.

As they say, you can learn a lot from a DNF, so, what did I learn?

• I can run fairly even pace for almost 50 miles – the “Method of Doom” really does work. My first three loops were all around 2:40 give or take a minute. 4th loop was just 10 minutes slower in the heat of the day.
• If I am injured…. maybe, just maybe “MTFU and suck it up cupcake” isn’t always the most appropriate way to get healed.
• Friends are everything – seeing so many friends really helped to lift my spirits.
• Deanna could get a full time job as a pacer, she is great. (If only there were full time jobs doing that)
• I can run 50 miles on gels and liquids (and the occasional “bacon treat” only (not sure how much that contributed to the steady pace on the first four loops.
• Next year – no dreams of sub 24, no shooting for Western States qualifiers or 50 mile PR’s – 100 miles or bust.

So, until next year I guess. If I can get in.

In the meantime, what do with those 3 rocks left all alone in a pile at the top of Effing Hill.

<sigh>