Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Hot Dog 122

It was hot. It was foresty. I had the same stupid kids song stuck in my head for two entire days. It was the Fat Dog 120 in BFE Canada. First off, the rumor of Canada being a cold place with hosers in touques is all lies, great white north lies. It is a tropical place with molten skyscapes, mosquitos the size of a maple bar and musty woodlands which ooze sweat and desperation.

They should have called it the Hot Dog 122. Yes, this year they added 2 miles to the fun because, y'know, metric. Last year the lucky bastards had a winter storm hit in August and those who didn't become hypothermic had really fast times. This year in response, they had a mandatory gear list which made UTMB's list look like a day at the zoo for 2nd graders. Two survival blankets, basically 3 shirts/coats, gloves, rain pants, warm hat, note from your mother, two liters of water, bean bag chair, remote control, spare pint of blood, quart of Maple syrup and a kilo of back bacon. By the start, which was 10:00 AM and sweltering, my pack was the only shadow around in which to huddle.

Suck it up Whiney Baby. No that isn't what my son said to end up in the principals office, it is actually the race's slogan. Trumpian and trollish yet a good deferral for those who dare complain about any issues with the race. Let's just say I might relegate the race shirt to "house painting" duties.

The bib #s were alphabetical. I pulled a 77! So I'm wearing my 7Hills hat with a big 7 on it and my 7Hills shirt with a big 7 on it which is basically 77 and I pin a 77 on my Merrell shorts. Damn bro, this could be my day.

I stayed the night in Princeton, Canada with Rich White, RD for CCC100 until I take over in a bloodless coup on August 26th. The Evergreen Motel was oddly not horrible and the Free WiFi actually worked if you found the right spot in the parking lot between the stoned guy in the resin chair and the dump truck parked by the pool. Pizza was consumed, Olympics were watched, sleep was had.

Race morning I was picked up by Linda and Gary Robbins and kindly driven the hour and a half to the race start which is in the actual middle of no where near a pine tree and hot dirt road. I got to meet Peter, the co-race director and he was great. I saw a bunch of hot nervous other runners waiting to get going and then we were. Up up up and the sweat came down down down. We were all going out way too fast. I had a plan, the plan of the old codger. My plan was to not go out too fast but here we were and damn, we were killing that first climb! I backed off. Most everyone passed me except the sweeps and an octogenarian with vertigo. I was running by feel and I felt sweaty. Half way up the first big climb we hit the start of Trapper Lake and a burned out forrest. It was amazing. I wanted to stop. I swear I'm no pyro but I love a burned out forrest. I love seeing the geography, the big rocks and crags which are usually hidden by brush and trees. I wanted to stop and explore but i din't. I kept running because that is my sickness.

There is a dude who is connected to the Ultra scene in Canada who owns a blueberry farm. He presses unsweetened, pure blueberry juice. I had it at Squamish. I hit the third aid station, where the heat of the day had turned into a sauna and dude had his blueberry juice there. I filled one handheld with water, the other with 1/4 blueberry juice and 3/4 water. I took off and that combo was like heaven. Water for hydration, then, when I needed fuel, calories, I'd hit the blueberry juice and get an immediate lift from it. I was stoked! At the next aid station I asked for blueberry juice and they looked at me like I'd asked for a caviar or escargot or a tongue massage. That was the only blueberry stop of the race but I will, in the future, find a way to drop bag it into my race plans.

The race went up, across, and on and on and on.
I met up with some nice people and chatted. The scenery was great when we got up high. The beauty of the area is that it is totally undeveloped. You look down on two drainages and neither has any roads, or logging or mining or anything made by man. It is very remote, pretty and big. Then it repeats itself. A lot. I finally found humans at a big aid station by a river. I ate foods, mostly watermelon and bacon and had a quality sponge soaking then schlepped my hot and sorry ass out for the next big climb. By this point I was running somewhere in the teens. My master plan was to go slow in the heat, bide my time in the first day then run well at night when it cooled down, crush the second day and finish yelling, "Fat Dog is my Bitch!" The part of running slow in the heat was spot on.

At some point in the late afternoon I hooked up with Angela Shartel. She was 2nd place woman at the time and we are both chatty. We had a great time getting to know each other, trading stories and watching the miles click by. We bonded in a way that only happens on the trails. Sharing very personal information and trusting each other with our openness. It is something which is a special part of Ultra Trail Racing which I cherish. Then we got passed by the 3rd place woman and it was game on. We crossed a deliciously cool river then donned snazzy neon orange vests for a little highway running. We crossed the Trans Canada Highway and wandered into the Bonhiver aid station. A major crew station. I had no crew or pacers. I saw Daisy Clark, a Seattle friend who was crewing another 7Hills runner, Dave. She jumped right in and crewed me. Helped me dump the debris from my shoes and watched me grump around the food. Her enthusiasm was so welcome and meaningful. She may not have know it by my demeanor, but I thought about her kindness for miles and miles that night and the next day.

Pet Peeve: Why the F can't an aid station which is on a major highway have actual food? No coffee, no soup, no watermelon and definitely no blueberry juice. Suck it Up Whiney Baby. I left with some bacon, a piece of grilled cheese and a few fig newtons. I was in my 40something mile funk.

On to the third big climb of the race out of four. The climb up to Heather Ridge was a mess of dark switchbacks and as night came the heat of the day stuck with it.
I was without a pacer or music. I had been repeating a children's song which goes, "It's hot in here, forrest in the rain, it's wet in here, tropical domain. Then you add all sorts of rhyming lyrics to it. Until you want to scratch your brain out through your ears. I had this song in my head for roughly 30 hours and 37 minutes.
The night was lovely. I would eat, get energy and run really good, then use up the fuel, start slowing and either eat out of my pack or wait for an aid station. The stations were few and far. The night ones were around every 10- 12 miles. I was riding the bonk but didn't succumb. My night was saved by a remote hike in aid station where they had perogies. Damn! Perogies! I loves me a perogie and they went down smooooth. I powered up and caught up with Angela who had dusted me much earlier. I ran  a while with her and her pacer then got passed my 7Hills Dave and I decided to put in some sprinting and catch up with him. We flew down the mountain and after some never ending switchbacks, emerged into morning. Head lamps were shuttered and we hammered our way to the big morning aid station at Cascade. The sun was coming up, the aid station was full of friends and they finally had coffee and breakfast burritos. I positively lollygagged. I chatted, I nibbled, I dumped my shoes. I ran out of excuses to stay so I left. Sadly. They even had ripe avocados. Another neon orange vest for another couple miles on the side of the road. Yuck. Dave and I ran to the next aid station where I dumped the neon and hit the flats. He stayed behind for reasons unknown. The sun was coming up but under a mantle of clouds, the Skagit flats, 20 miles of undulating flatish trail, way runnable were in front of me and the plan was still very much in play. 
In studying the race, it seemed to me people blow their legs early and have nothing left for the most runnable section of the race. My plan was to scuttle time in the first half and make it up in spades on the flats then hammer the final climb and descent to the finish. I hit the flats and started laying down some serious turnover. I felt good, really good. I had been injured for a year with a wonky hip. It was finally healed and I could do anything I wanted. No pain. My training was perfect building up to the race. I put in a ton of milage in Seattle, went to altitude at Hardrock and trained there and paced for 13 hours, then took that acclimation home to pound out more big mile weeks pre race. A week long taper and I was feeling better than I had in years. It now was playing through as I kicked up moss along the Skagit River. I caught a runner and he stuck with me. I stopped to pee and he took the lead. I was hot but hydrated. I chased him into the aid station at Sawattum. I had drop bag #2 there, a Bigfoot lunchbox containing bug spray and a bottle of coffee. I had both and some bacon and watermelon then headed out passing a knot of runners still in their chairs. I rounded a corner and the guy I'd been chasing was walking... he said, "I thought you'd already left the aid station." I ran past him and he didn't stay with me this time. I realized he'd already let me go once. I continued my torrid pace on the flats. 

The flats ended and the final climb looked, on the race profile, like it went straight up. I was stoked to kill it. I couldn't have been more wrong. The trail went sideways, switchbacks. Runnable switchbacks, inefficient switchbacks, meandering stupid, made for day hiker switchbacks. I grumbled, it was now super hot, in the mid 90s and buggy. I used a buff as a horse tail and soaked in every creek and drip on the mountain. It took forever but I finally got up high enough on the ridge to catch the slight breath of a breeze. Miserable. Worried my kidneys were going to stop working. Buggy. The scenery was really nice though Whiney Baby.
As I stared at the baked trail just trying to get up and over the ridge, my eye caught something miraculous. Ripe Alpine Strawberries! Nom. I ate them and it raised my spirits and my depleted calorie count in equal measure. Hot in here, forrest in the rain, wet in here, tropical domain.
Not in the happiest of moods, I found the last aid station. They were parked on the side of the mountain with not much of anything yet they had cold, meat pizza. Mmm Ok. I gnawed on it up the last half dozen stinger climbs of the ridge. The food professional in me tried my best to not think about how long it had been out of refrigeration. Finally, I crested the last hill and knew I was about 5 miles of downhill away from the finish. I had no idea what time it was or how I was doing. Some aid station workers had said, "you have a good time going." or something the likes which gave me hope. My original goal was to be under 30 hours but that was before the heat. Once it got hot my priorities became, don't blow up, don't lose your stomach and keep the kidneys functioning. I sprinted the final 5 miles of switchbacks until it flattened at a campground then crossed the lake at a bridge. From there it was a looong way around Lightning Lake to the finish arch but it came and with it a 30:37 finish time, 4th place and a substantial, not cheap belt buckle. I saw Daisy and she helped me get down to the lake where I took off my pack, my shoes and simply laid down in the lake for about 30 minutes. It was dreamy. When I went to get out, my legs were locked tight and I had to physically snap them with my arms. 
I sat and waited for #5. A long time. almost an hour. #5 ended up being Angela winning the Women's race. She killed it! I got a hamburger which I had a bear of a time eating because my tongue wasn't working. I found my van, changed and fell asleep and missed the finishes of the rest of the top ten.

Eventually I made it out of the van and enjoyed the company of the other runners finishing and hanging out. There was absolutely zero cell coverage in the area so no one was on their devices. It was kind of nice. I crashed for the night in the van and awoke in the early am just in time to see Linda Barton Robbins finish her first 122 miler less than a year after birthing her first child. Rich was pacing Linda through night number two. We hung out in a field of sleeping runners and limping shadows until the sun came back to remind us who is boss.
Sunday morning we drove my van, without air conditioning, back across the border to the USA. Mission accomplished. 
Shoes- Merrell All Out Peak
Socks-Drymax Trail Pro
Glasses- Julbo
Shorts- Merrell, new, zero chaffing. 
Shirt- 7 Hills running shop jersey.
Headlamp-Petzl Tikka
Fuel- peanutbutter crackers, fig newtons, Larabars, aid station fare, can of coffee.
Injuries- lost big toe nail due to smashing it into 3 rocks, feet wrecked from running 122 miles.
Lessons learned- blueberry juice & really, don't go out too fast.
No pacer, no crew, no problem
If I was a bear I'd eat people who wear bear bells 'cause that shiz is annoying. 

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Shangri La 100k- China 2016

China- A country of contradictions and contrasts, beauty and bullshit in equal measure. Who am I to judge with my Western eye but judge I do and stories I have collected. Two races in 11 days, 7 different airports and countless meals containing yak products.

I arrived in Beijing on May 14th after losing a day in flight over the Pacific or Arctic or perhaps it rolled under the seat behind me. I came to China as an invited athlete to run both the Conquer The Wall Marathon (I did the 10k) and the Shangri La 100k. I had never been to Asia.

When I ran UTMB in 2014 I felt lost throughout the race. I didn't know the time, the milage or what country I was in. I understood enough of the language and the culture to make me aware of what I should know and did not. China was a totally different experience as I speak about ten words of Mandarin poorly, have no idea of the cultural norms and I look like a foreigner. I did not feel lost, I felt alien. Luckily, I had the race organization to rely upon to make hotel reservations, transportation and to translate phrases like, "What is the wifi password?".

Beijing is, drum roll please, huge. What first grabbed my attention was the free for all style of driving. One hand on a cigarette, the other on the horn while checking the cell phone. I imagined a communist country of many rules would lead to strict drivers, I was wrong. Driving in China is more cock fight than synchronized swimming. Pedestrians in an over populated country are considered fair game and the larger vehicle always has the right of way.

I settled into a nice hotel in Beijing on Ring road 3, slept a little then got up very early for the bus ride to the Great Wall of China. There was a large convoy of runners in busses tooling through the dark. I met up with the other invited Elites for this race, Ultra running superstar Nikki Kimball and Mosi Smith, a Badwater badass from North Carolina. The sun came up as we drove through the Chinese landscape along the Great Wall. It was surreal, I mean, the Great Wall of China! Finally we disembarked at the race start in a quiet valley with port-a-potties, an inflatable arch and military officials skulking about.

The Conquer The Wall 10k Race- The 5k and 10k started first with the half and full marathons to follow. I bolted from the start line up some single track as I was cold and wanted to warm up. Two Chinese runners followed me. The path topped out at The Wall. This part of The Wall is unreconstructed and steep as hell.
Crumbling, ancient stones going straight up ridge lines. So cool. I hammered up and down with my two chasers. I noticed they both had on blue half marathon bibs while mine was the green 10k. I asked them but they couldn't understand my jabbering in English.
I decided they must have dropped down to the 10k and considered them legit competition. We eventually hit the reconstructed part of The Wall. This was what you see in the pictures.

Jaw dropping. I could now open up and push it. I had my phone in the pocket of my new Merrell shorts and was able to snap a few pictures. I dropped first one of the Chinese guys, then the other with about 4k to go. I absolutely flew down the single track to the finish. I won the race in 1 hour 28 minutes. The second place man came in 30 minutes later and the two Chinese guys were actually confused half marathoners. This was the second 10k I have ever run. My first 10k time was 36 minutes. My second was only 52 minutes slower!

Nikki won the Half Marathon for the Women and Mosi got seventh in the full marathon. Katie Enquist the RD put on an excellent race with the help of Terry Sentinella and all the volunteers.

I spent the next day wandering around Beijing by myself. I sauntered out to the Forbidden Palace, Tien'amen Square and Mao'saleum.
me n' Mao

I was surprised at how few Westerners there were. Small children stared at me. People wore funny t-shirts with English writing saying things like: Don't Stop Premium When You're Done, and Universe Funnel Original and Hollywood Chap Riding. There were tons of military soldiers and police. They looked bored and very young.

The following day we piled into cabs to the airport where we flew across the country to Shangri La, a renamed town at 10,000 feet. Shangri La is the last major city in the NW of China before you are in Tibet proper. The population in Shangri La is 85% Tibetan and the prayer flags and temples reflect this.
It is a magical place with winding old streets and shops in the Old Town area and new buildings and knock off western shops and residential buildings in the New Town section. All parts of the city are under construction.
Nikki n' Mosi

We stayed at the 7 Days Hotel near Old Town. Then we ate, and ate and ate. Yakkity yak. Yak was a part of almost every meal and it was excellent. Dried, fried, ground, on pizza, burger buns, Yak candy, yak milk lattes, yak cheese. You name it, we ate it.

Nikki and I did a shake out run from the hotel. We headed up the surrounding hills, past family burial plots planted in the forrest, past a stupa (monk burning platform and prayer pillar) up to the Tea Horse trail which Nikki had run years ago. It is an ancient trail where Tibetans would trade War Horses to the Chinese for Tea. The history in the area predates the thought of America existing.
Shangri La

Yassine Diboun, stud runner from Portland joined us and our group of runners expanded in fun and laughter. The mix of personalities between the four of us was a highlight of the trip. Everyone got along, thrived together and bonded like siblings. Terry, his wife Deloris and the other Western volunteers that came along were busy with race details. We invited athletes also had some duties which included being interviewed and a photo session at the Shambala Cultural Center which contains a 40 foot tall "future Buddah" made of gold. Truly impressive.

May 20th we boarded busses for a harrowing five hour ride over a 14,000 foot pass to the town of Diqen. Diqen is a handful of buildings clinging to a cliff overlooking the Meli snow mountains and Sacred Glacier. This was race central for the Shangri La 100k. Our accommodations were unbelievable. Luxury suites with huge tubs, king beds and private entrances. It was here we met the other runners from around the world but mostly China. We learned there were a few top notch local runners who were gunning for the win.
Regalia resort n Spa

May 21- race day- We had to be fed and on the bus by 4:30AM for the 1.5 hour drive to the start. Luckily most the drive down the steep, crumbling, rock slide riddled road was in the dark.
We arrived at the start/finish area, checked in, had multiple pictures taken with just about everyone then, finally, at a little past 7, we started running. This is why we were here.

Yassine and I and three other fellows were the lead pack heading up the first climb and it was a doozy. Four thousand feet up a pilgrim path, near the top we came to a prayer flag swaddled building where a man was patiently milking a yak... yeah, this is cool. We passed all but one runner up to the top of the sacred mountain then Yassine left me on the downhill as his legs are about twice as long as mine. The downhill path led past hikers, Tibetan pilgrims, donkeys and some little villages with curious faces peering out windows.
The weather was overcast and drizzly, the landscape lush and I felt good. I Rolled into the first major aid station at 15k and had a coconut water and a steamed bun then headed out to the sacred waterfall. I ran past pigs, donkeys, horses, chickens and about 55 sacred sights on my way to the waterfall turnaround. I finally saw the lead runner coming back, a Chinese guy who looked very calm. I got to the top and I hadn't passed Yassine? He must have gone off course, I was now 2nd place. I waited for the volunteer to scan my timing chip wrist band for a long time then once successful, I waited more for the inevitable selfie with volunteer.
Back down the sacred trail and I saw Nikki coming up, then a bit later, Yassine and then Mosi who was running the 55k. Back past the pigs and donkeys to the aid station and more coconut water and another steamed bun then off to the Tiger Leaping Gorge. Beautiful single track along a roaring river led to a very high cliff trail with a tiny river way down there.
Tiger leaping gorge

At this point the terrain turned from forest to dry, exposed cliff. The stretch finally ended at an aid station with only drinks. "Be careful of the road." The kindly volunteer said. I thought, "uh, thanks, I think I know how to run on dirt roads but whatever." Then I rounded a bend and found out what she meant. The road was currently being bombarded by huge boulders being knocked down from the above cliff by a backhoe. The race signs had arrows pointing past the manmade landslide. Uh. I stopped and gawked. Then a worker saw me, waved to a worker on the cliffs above who waved to the backhoe driver to halt. I waited for the washing machine sized boulders to cease, then ran like hell across that section of "course". This is China bro.

The next section of the race was the pendulum swing to the beauty of the sacred waterfall valley. Road construction. Miles and miles of road construction. Bridges half built over littered valleys.
Dry, dusty, pot holed road with nothing to see but desolation, debris and the occasional roadside building. I may have already been in a half bonk funk but I was now in a full mental spiral.
The next aid station was the bail out point to drop down to the 55k or motor on to the 100k. I took stock and knew as much as it sucked at the moment, coming all the way to Asia for a race, and dropping down would be a bitter pill even if that pill would be taken in a really nice soaking tub back at the resort. I was handed a sandwich of Tomato, egg and a bright pink meat like substance. I wolfed at it greedily as I needed real food. This was the first food since the 20k aid station and I was in dire need of nutrition. Then the sun came out.

The sun didn't really come out. What happened is I was caught by Nikki. Just as I was finishing my mystery sandwich, Nikki came and we started chatting and between her company and a bit of food, I started to feel so much better. She was in the same malaise after the brutal exposed road. We were now on more road construction but we were together and it became fun. We stopped as a small landslide poured over the road, when it abated, we sprinted past. We found an aid station with Pepsi which was a nice treat as the earlier aid stations only had water, datemilk, bananamilk and Redbull. On we ran to a village with interesting people and dogs and cows. We began wending our way up a brick pathway which became steeper and steeper. This must be the climb to the Sacred Glacier! It was, we were both starting to cramp a bit and were pretty bonky but made it to the turnaround where we were scanned, given a bracelet and the ever needed selfie with the volunteer and his cigarette.
Sacred Glacier Turnaround

We saw the lead man still looking calm, and later we saw Yassine and a Chinese runner on their way up.

On our way down, Nikki had to stop because her entire body cramped. Go on without me she said. I did. Two minutes later she caught back up with me and we made our way back down the path. Another stinger of a climb slowed us and I again left Nikki as my climbing legs felt good. I powered to the top of the hill then down the other side past flags and stupas down to a village. The trail spat me out on a village road. I looked right, I looked left, no flags, no markings. Crap! I chose left and ran up the road, past a cow. I ran until I got to the highway. This can't be right. I turned around and went back past the unhelpful cow. In the middle of the village was an aid station and there was Nikki heading my way, the Chinese runner eating a hard boiled egg and Yassine just hitting the aid station. Crap crap crap. I was pissed. I refilled my water and headed out. Yassine took off fast, Nikki followed and I took up the rears. Eventually I caught back up with Nikki and we compared notes on which muscles were cramping. Yassine got smaller and smaller as he sped away. We got back to the Pepsi aid station and knew we were within walking distance of the finish. We hiked the road hard past the landslides and construction back to the sandwich aid station where our friend Gilda Catalina was volunteering. 9k to go. We started up the road for the last stretch of race determined to tie for third place.

9k, less than 6 miles of uphill, grinder road to the finish. Runnable if it were a short race but at the end of a long day, hiking was the only option. We were smelling the barn and working hard. With about 2k left to go we heard something behind us and were slack jawed to see it was the Chinese runner from the hard boiled egg aid station running up and past us! He was running! Past us! Where did he come from? He was young, I think 23 years old. We are not. He got about 50 feet ahead of us and started to cramp. We could see him slowly faltering and we silently upped our hiking pace. Fourth place sucks. He would look back, run a bit, cramp, then slow to a walk. We reeled him in slowly. It was a thing of beauty. Nikki and I, working together, old, tenacious, wise to the ways of racing, and we were now racing, reeling, catching, passing then upping the pace a touch more to separate from the young buck who showed his hand too early. By the last bend in the road before the finish, he was well out of sight and we didn't need to red line to the end.
As it was I was losing feeling in my arms so I was glad to not have to push a sprint finish uphill. We crossed the line in 12:28. I got 3rd Male, Nikki got 1st Female and there was Yassine who finished about 5 minutes before us. The calm Chinese runner won the 100k by a large margin and the young Chinese guy we passed rolled in about 4 minutes after us. All in all, a very successful day.
Nikki, me and an Australian

The finish area had a great arch, tons of sponsor flags, a podium stage and no food at all save for milk, yoghurt and Shangri La Beer. As runners would finish, they would fill busses and once full send them back to the Regalia Resort and Spa. We changed clothes, laid around, had some hot water then got on a bus to the hotel. The town was closed as it was now night. I came back to my luxury suite, showered then had a recovery meal of Yak Jerky and Shangri La Beer. I found it hilarious.

The next morning found me at the buffet line piling my plate high with breakfast food.
We ate and talked with other runners about their experiences. Everyone was thrilled with their race, the course, the things they had seen. We waited for an award ceremony which failed to materialize then checked out of our suites and loaded back onto the busses for the 5 hour ride back to Shangri La.

The rest of the trip was a collage of airports, layovers, hotels, subways, and a large, loud, fun Chinese meal for our last night in Beijing.
Upon finally landing in Vancouver, Ca. The first thing I did was drink from a drinking fountain and check Facebook which is blocked in China. My final stop was Seattle and the arms of my beautiful family. On our way home from the airport I couldn't help notice how small the Seattle skyline seemed and how good the drivers.
Chongdu China

In a couple of years, once the wrinkles have been ironed out and the race directors at UTRMA get enough feedback on what American and European runners need, the Shangri La 100k will become a world class, destination event. My Chinese visa is good for 10 years and I can't imagine not coming back to revisit this amazing part of the world. Next time I'm bringing my family.

Huge thank you to Terry Sentinella and NW Endurance Runs for the invitation to compete in China, to Katie Enquist for Conquer The Wall, to Oscar and MJ of UTRMA, to Merrell for the perfect gear for the adventure, to Julbo eyeware, Petzl headlamps, Drymax socks and most of all to My wife Jane and kids for letting me stretch my wings across the globe and huge thanks to Chris Barry for keeping everything in great shape at work while I was away.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Time and space

I got on a plane with my family in Seattle. We flew to the middle of the Pacific Ocean and landed on Kauai.
Here I am three hours different. The sun rises, the sun sets only three hours later than my home. I am here. I have a tendency to adapt fairly quick to time changes because I'm either very simple or very complex, the jury is still out.

Rewind, what are you doing on Kauai?

Six years ago we had a vacation in Hawaii and decided we would return every three years. We figured if we put away $1,500 a year and planned on eating cat food as seniors we could do this. Six years slipped past with the budget going to other trips based around my Ultra races and family visits. This year the Teriyaki Chicken came home to roost and we decided to return to paradise. So here we are.

In little over a month from now, May 13th to be exact, I will board a plane to take me the rest of the way across the Pacific. I will be going to China to run two races. China is a day and a half ahead of Seattle time. Will I adjust? Will I rise and sleep with the sun or will my internal clock rule the day?
I am hoping my body goes to sleep on the plane and reboots upon arrival.

Rewind, what? China?

Yes! Chi-frickin-na! I was invited to the second running of the Shangri-La Marathons 100k in the highlands of Yunnan Province. Think, Eastern Himalaya, Tibetan Plateau. Yak, monasteries, pilgrims, butter tea, high altitude. Oh, that's right, altitude, that is going to be an issue. Race is held between 7,000 and 12,000 feet. I will not be acclimated to the altitude, culture, language, food, water, time, or toilets. The only things I will have of comfort will be other runners. The language of running is international. Plus, I will be accompanied by Co-race- director, Terry Sentinella, Portland elite Yassine Diboun and Ultra running legend Nikki Kimbal.

Race website is: http://shangri-la-marathon.com/ It looks sooo dang cool.

My generous hosts also wanted me to run another of their races, the Conquer The Wall Marathon six days prior to Shangri-La. I at first said no as it seemed a bad idea to race that soon before a 100k. Then I realized my folly. Run a race on the Great Wall of China? Hello chance of a lifetime! I said yes but only to the half marathon, then I saw the course! It is all stairs! Jeepers. The winning time from last year was 3:30 something for the half! I down graded to the 10k. I will be stopping and taking pictures along the way.

Elasticity of time is going to be key for China.
I leave on a Friday morning, I arrive on Saturday evening. Conquer The Wall 10k is early Sunday morning. The only way to adapt is to become one with one's place. I think this is a valuable lesson for life. I've found running long races is a great exercise in being where you are. Sometimes it feels like the storm is your new reality or the heat will be here forever. Giving in and accepting what life gives you at the moment calms the mind and allows the body to follow. Fighting or over analyzing wastes energy.

For now, I've accepted my new reality to be this beautiful tropical island.
Big thanks to Merrell, Drymax, Julbo, 7Hills running shop and Globespun Gourmet

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Adventure time

I was given a shirt from Merrell which says, "Its not the gear, its the adventure." I thought it funny coming from a company which sells gear. Upon further musing, I came to the realization it IS the adventure, the gear is a means of making the adventure more comfortable. Yes, Merrell gear makes me more comfortable on my adventures but the goal is to test the boundaries of our physical and mental capacities.

I have been reading a trilogy based on the true stories of the Mutiny On The Bounty. Fascinating tales of the men who endured unthinkable hardship on their journey from Tahiti to Timor, almost 4000 miles of sea in a very small boat. 41 days of bailing water and starving. Adventure of the highest degree.

I read the Bounty book in the back of my mini van by headlamp while parked (illegally) near the start of the Orcas Island 50k. I was there to complete my 8th time racing this NW classic race. I had a bit of a negative attitude as the race has changed so much in the years since I started coming. I was nostalgic for the old days and old friends who used to gather on the ferry to and from the island and camp out the night before on the soggy grass at Camp Moran. The popularity of the Orcas 50k has made it a destination race for new 50k runners who have brought with them a new kind of energy.

Race morning dawned grey as usual. I knew what to expect, what was to come, the first long climb up the paved road. I started with my friend Maxwell Ferguson who claimed to be terribly out of shape and said he'd stick with me (he fast). We worked our way up then down the first climb, finally, Max couldn't stick with me and had to take off after the front pack. I run Orcas the same way every year, slow start, build, kill the climbs, sprint it in and finish between 5th and 10th place. Clockwork. Then, it all changed.

I had just started to feel good at the second aid station around mile 16. I chowed on some PBJ and hit the trail feeling like my legs were finally energized. I was bombing down some fast single track and saw a pink marker on my left down the trail and flew past it but it led to a blown down tree, I danced around the tree and kept going, a while later the trail turned to brush. I looked about for markers and saw nothing. I must have missed a turn. I bush whacked up hill until it led to a little ravine. No trail, no markers. Things were getting interesting. I backtracked and bushwhacked downhill. Another ravine with a trail and pink markers were way down below. I bolted down the steep hillside through the brush and found the trail and markers which read "Timber Harvest" on them. Now I knew I was no longer in a race I was on an adventure. I was excited. This is what I had been yearning for. I'd done the race 7 times. I knew I was on an island, I still had water and food and legs for hours. I thought, "let's see where we end up?" I followed the trail which became an overgrown road which eventually spit out at a cattle farm. I saw a farmer with his dog and horse. I approached them and he said, "Are you doing the long race?" (the Orcas 25k was the weekend prior). I explained I HAD been doing the race and was now on an adventure of my own. He pointed out the dirt road to the main road which would take me back to Camp Moran. I followed the dirt road to the paved road and had to make a guess. Left or Right? I felt like I had come down the mountain on the left so I went that way. About 1.5 miles later the road became a dead end. Oops. Turn around and head back. The farmer said it would be about 5 miles away. I had all day to get back. I met a woman walking her puppy. I continued down the road until it turned sharply at Doe Bay Resort. I'd heard of it but never been there and now here I was unexpectedly.

The most random things can happen when you are open and available for the universe to play with you. I was jogging up the road past Doe Bay and I was passed by a car with a running store sticker on the back window. It stopped a little ways up the road. When I caught up to it, the window rolled down and it was Max Ferguson's girlfriend, crew and puppy. They asked what I was doing, I explained. They offered me a ride to the camp. I would have said no but Max's puppy is a brown husky who is less than a year old. I got to ride in the way back with Greta the pup for the WAY longer than 5 mile trip back to race central. She may have shared one of my peanut butter crackers.

The Orcas 50k debacle was a happy accident. Others got off course too but were more diligent in turning around before it was too late. For me it was a reminder to break new ground. Find new trails, new races. Do something more... I dunno... adventurous. I'm already planning some very long runs for this summer in training for the Fat Dog 120 mile race in Canada in August. I'm also working on a huge trip which is almost ready to be hatched.

Gear: Merrell All Out Peak Shoes, Drymax socks, Merrell Capra wind shell and running shirt. Fuel: Bag of Dates, Trader Joes peanut butter crackers, Water, PBJ. GU salt tabs.
Special Thanks to James Varner and Rainshadow Racing for the event and 7Hills running shop for stocking Team 7 Hills with runners like Masazumi Fujioka who won the race in a blistering time.

Friday, January 29, 2016

Hip Check

Looking back on 2015 I realize I was injured from June until the end of the year. As mentioned on a previous blog, I did something horrible to my right hip while training for Hardrock 100 by running up and down Mt. Rainier. Once my right hip was back in place, my left hip was found to have sustained an injury of it's own caused by the compensation and continued training/ racing schedule.
Hardrock photo credit Jenny Pierce

     Post Hardrock 100, I recovered a little, then ran the Squamish 50k then the Crystal Mt. Sky Marathon, then the Deception Pass 25k. Each time running on a hip/glute which wasn't quite right but was, very slowly, healing. I kept my training miles fairly low and nursed the injury to a standstill: Very slowly getting better. Along came 2016 and ski race season.
     Few people know I ski race in a competitive night skiing league at Snoqualmie Pass an hour East of Seattle. I have been setting courses and racing there for the last 23 years. Race skis, helmet, wax, the whole deal minus the superhero speed suits. The weather in the Cascades makes for some interesting racing which is to say, some nights it rains while other nights it is crystal clear and icy.
     The first night of actual racing this year, the course was soft which led to deep ruts. Night skiing makes it so you can not see the bottom of said ruts. As per normal, I bombed as fast as I could into the unknown and was jolted over and over by slamming in and out of the ruts. My back was jarred, my head was all abobble and by the time I took off my gear and drove down the mountain my hip was absolutely... quiet. Not a squeak of pain. I shook it off and waited for morning.
     Thursday morning dawned and I went to grimace my way down stairs to make breakfast but, again, nothing. No pain, no grimace. Well G'damn. I may have righted the ship by grounding it again.
     Strange thing this body. Tightly wound as I am it looks like what my body needs most to align itself is to be bashed into submission.
     2016 is off to a slow start. I ran a 25k fat ass for fun then the Capitol Peak Mega Fat Ass 34 miler to check my conditioning. I was slower than I thought I would be. My lack of training is obvious compared to years past. It was nice to run over 30 miles which I haven't done since last August. The hip is feeling about 90% back and the Orcas Island 50k is next week. After that, adventure awaits. I've some cool things brewing for this year. Merrell, Team 7 Hills, Julbo, Petzl, Drymax, Fuel100 will all be along for the ride.