2013 hasn’t exactly been a banner year for my cycling career. I’ve done just one race, and that wasn’t even on the roads–it was a mountain bike race. Cycling has definitely taken a back seat to running this year, though I didn’t exactly plan it that way. Anytime I was presented with a choice between a foot race and a bike race I inevitably chose the foot race, because statistically I was more likely than not to finish on the podium in the foot race, while I would probably have finished anonymously in 25th place in the bike race. I guess it’s just more enjoyable to have success than not.

Well, maybe that would change with cyclocross season upon us. I’ve always done better in cyclocross than in road racing for some reason. It’s basically a criterium, just on grass instead of pavement. But that changes a lot in the equation. In a typical road crit, I spend the entire race scared out of my mind, but I’m much more relaxed in a CX race. In a crit the speeds are super fast, while in CX they are quite slow (riding on grass is hard work). If you fall in a crit it’s going to hurt like hell for days, but if you fall on grass you barely feel it. Drafting (a weakness of mine) is vital in a crit, while wind resistance is a non-issue in CX. CX requires dismounting your bike and running and jumping and remounting. Hey, I can run.

Photos by Melissa

I got a bit of a late start this CX season due to running two ultras in October (and the longer than expected recovery from those), but last weekend I finally made it out for my first CX race (and second bike race of the year), Bubba Cross #4 at Lower Buder Park. I had low expectations (little more than having fun), but I still lined up early so I could start close to the front. Even if a bunch of people flew past me at the beginning, getting a good start is essential to one’s success in a CX race.

After an uncomfortably fast start I was positioned around 10th-12th going into the first turns, after which point it would be single file essentially the rest of the race. This course had a few really tight turns, a few obstacles to jump over, and lots of straight flat fast sections. The most notable obstacle on the course was a short steep gravel hill we had to ride up, make a sharp turn, and ride back down. It wasn’t easy.

As is my M.O., after losing a few places early in the race I started to gradually gain positions throughout the remainder of the 45 minute race. Around 30 minutes other riders started to tire, while I was just getting warmed up. I finished the race strong, moving up to 6th place by the end. I had a teammate in the race who finished 4th. I couldn’t quite make it that far up. If only the race were a couple hours longer…

My race execution was nearly flawless. I didn’t crash and I didn’t lose any time with silly mistakes. I did have one horrible snafu during the race. Since it was sunny and only 50˚F during the race I decided to wear sunglasses. Well, I got so hot I was drenched in sweat and since I didn’t have a breeze to dry the sweat off my face it all dripped into my eyes. There were a couple of sections where had to nearly close my eyes to mitigate the stinging, which made it difficult to see where I was going… which is kind of important in a twisty, turny race. This is the type of problem I frequently have when it’s 95˚F, but I’ve never experienced it at this temperature.

Lesson learned.

Running

Taper, race, recover, race, recover. Two runs accounted for half of my mileage in October, while 14 runs accounted for the other half. Aside from the two ultras I did many short runs leading up to the races and as recovery after them. Despite it being a fairly low-mileage month it still ranks #6 for the past 10+ years, and #5 for 2013. I must say, I like the trajectory of this plot.

Cycling

In the toilet. On the bright side I already surpassed October’s total mileage by November 2nd.

Walking/Hiking

Lots of easy recovery miles here.

Swimming

One is greater than zero.

Why the hell not? I recovered faster from Farmdale than from previous 50 mile races, so on a whim I decided to do something unprecedented for me: run another ultra the very next weekend. I’ve never run long races less than three weeks apart before, so as much as anything else I just wanted to see if I could do it.

Photo courtesy of Bob O’Brien

I was heading up to central Illinois for a conference at work this week and my trip coincided with the Forest Glen 50K, which is organized by friends of mine from Champaign-Urbana. Forest Glen is one of my very favorite trails to run. Furthermore, this week will be the anniversary of the death of my grandmother, and Forest Glen is one of the places she and my grandfather would take me hiking when I was a little boy. I have many fond memories there.

Photo courtesy of Bob O’Brien

Now, Forest Glen is a difficult, hilly trail. There’s even a section of three steep 100 foot hills back to back that have been nicknamed The Three Sisters. Given that I’m very bad at running uphill, and I just had a bad race on a hilly course the week before, this could be a recipe for disaster. There are a few notable differences. First, I’ve run this trail dozens of times, so I know exactly how hard it is, and I can be better prepared mentally. Second, while Forest Glen has more big hills than Jubilee did (which would be slower), it also has more uninterrupted runnable miles (which would be faster).

We began the first of three 10.6 miles loops at 8 AM, in cold rainy weather. I joined a pack of two other guys at the front, though I didn’t know whether they were in the 50K, the 10-mile, or the 5-mile race. I took it pretty easy on the uphills in the first lap and the other two guys gained some time on me. I came through the start/finish area in 1:33, right at 9:00/mile pace, the fastest loop I’ve ever run here.

After I replenished my drink and food supplies the race director shouted that the other two guys were three minutes ahead. So now I knew they were both in the 50K, and I had a deficit to make up. We have a race on. I picked up the pace like a man possessed. I wanted to catch the others, but not waste too much energy and do it too soon. I passed one guy about three miles into the loop. The other guy I passed about 6.5 miles into the loop. He stayed within sight of me for a while, but I kept moving fast to try to open the gap. I finished the lap in 1:32, which, for the second time of the day, was the fastest loop I’ve ever run here.

At the beginning of the third loop I could tell I was slowing down. And that’s to be expected. I wasn’t super worried about slowing down a little. After all I had run the second loop a minute faster than the first, while the closest competitor had run it 7-9 minutes slower than his first lap. I have a buffer, and even after slowing down I should still be moving faster. The very first hill of the third loop reminded me that this was far from over. My quads were screaming. At the top I worked back up to a jog and staved off the really intense pain until the next uphill. Then the next.

The downhills weren’t much prettier either. While I had been running the downhills fast to make up time without using much energy, now my knees were aching with every step down. This was pretty atypical. It wasn’t injury pain, just okay we’ve had enough pain. I don’t think this would have been a problem if I had been fresh, but coming off last weekend’s 50 mile race the cumulative pounding was taking its toll.

The runnable parts I was going a minute per mile slower than previous laps, and the big hilly sections I was going 2-3 minutes per mile slower. The last time up the Second Sister I actually contemplated stopping to catch my breath about 20 feet from the top.

I got a little sloppy with my nutrition during the hardest section of the last lap and I was completely empty the last few miles. I could just tell from the feeling in my stomach and my muscles that I had no sugar left and was burning nothing but fat. On the bright side, that section was runnable and I was still moving at sub-9:00 pace, so even a bonk couldn’t stop me by then.

Photo courtesy of Bob O’Brien

After a much slower third lap (1:50!) I crossed the finish line in 4:55, good for first place. I rushed to put on some warm clothes and eat whatever I could, but nothing sounded good. I had to spit out a bite of my Clif Bar. Eventually I found some oranges and that did the trick to warm my stomach up for other food. I spent the next few hours eating, drinking, and chatting with old friends.

Photo courtesy of Bob O’Brien

I received some wonderful handmade pottery as an award.

I also received something unpleasant, in the form of a horrible blood blister on my big toe (photo if you’re interested). That’s never happened before.

The race was incredibly well organized. The course markings were superb, and there were even accurate (as in wheeled, not GPSed) permanent mile markers posted along the course (which was incredibly helpful). The course for this year’s race changed from doing just the hardest 5 miles of the trail 6 times, to doing the full 10.6 miles just 3 times. I think this was a very wise decision. The new course is just about as hard as anything you’ll find in Illinois, but there’s still a lot of runnable trail. The old course was just too hilly for most flatlanders (me included!).

After recovering from a long hard effort at Howl at the Moon I put in a very solid month of training in September to prepare for another long race this fall in the cooler weather. I eventually decided on the Farmdale Trail Run 50 miler last weekend.

There was a last minute venue change on account of the government shutdown (Farmdale Reservoir is managed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers). The race would be held on a 7.5 mile loop at Jubilee College State Park on the other side of Peoria. The terrain was supposedly similar so this didn’t really change much, but the new course was unfamiliar to me and the first two laps would be in the dark.

Photo by Melissa

I started out conservatively, choosing not to go up the trail with three guys who took off, instead staying in 5th just behind another runner going about 9:00/mile pace. I lost my partner at the 3 mile aid station after he stopped and I didn’t. The trail had been fairly straightforward up until that point, but after the aid station came about three miles of typical midwest mountain bike trails, with lots of sharp turns and lots of short steep hills. I picked up the intensity just a little bit and still had trouble running that section at 10:30/mile. This was not a fast course. During this difficult section I caught and passed one of the fast starters. By the end of the first loop I had caught up with the two leaders.

I would describe the course as hilly. The biggest hills were only about 100 feet, but there were a lot of short, steep 20-ish foot hills, particularly concentrated into about 3 miles of the course. Given the 7 laps, this meant 21 total miles of roller coaster ups and downs.

Shortly into the second lap one of the leaders stopped for a natural break and I never saw him again. I stayed with the other guy and passed him right around the aid station. Still dark, about 30 seconds after I passed him I tripped and went down, rolling to lessen the impact, before hopping back up and continuing on down the trail. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again. I went slightly faster on the flats and downhills, and he went slightly faster on the uphills, so we stayed together for a few miles before I decided I’d rather run alone and picked up the pace.

At the end of the second loop it was bright enough to see without my headlamp. The 30 mile race, which Melissa was running, had just started 20 minutes prior, so I had a feeling I would start to catch up with the slower 30 milers pretty soon. It took a few miles, but there they were. The last half of the 3rd loop I was steadily passing a stream of runners–more runners than I would see the rest of the day. I kept a count so I could eventually provide that information to Melissa if I ever caught up with her. I did, just as we finished that loop. I had passed 48 runners in the 30 mile race in the span of 4.5 miles. It was congested at times, but no real problems. It became a bit humorous how everyone I passed apparently saw mud on my back and asked me if I had fallen.

I expected to continue to feel good for another couple laps, but just 22 miles in a wave of awful swept over me. I’ve never had problems before mile 35 in a 50 mile race before, so this caught me off guard. I slowed way down that lap, walking just about every incline I encountered. At this rate I expected to lose the lead at any moment… which added stress… which made me feel even worse.

30 miles in, after that one horrible loop I started to snap out of it and I took stock of the situation. My stomach was fine. My legs were trashed. I could still run the flats and the downhills, just slowly. I was struggling on the uphills, so I continued to walk those. I had no doubt I could grit it out for another 22 miles. But it’s going to be slow going. And I’m almost certainly not going to win the race.

The last three laps I kept moving. My legs never felt any better, but they never got any worse either. As I became more and more accustomed to the discomfort I actually began to speed up a little. Mostly I just wanted to stop running as soon as possible. My 6th lap was faster than my 5th, and my 7th was faster than my 6th.

With one mile to go, moving faster than I had been moving for several hours, out of nowhere, a runner blew past me. I thought to myself, all of the fast 30 milers are already finished. Could this guy possibly be in the 50 mile race moving that fast? On a switchback I caught a glimpse of his race number and noticed he was indeed in the 50 mile race.

Fuck.

I ran the last mile as hard as I could, which at that point translated to around 8:00 (my second fastest mile of the race). I ran hard up hills I had walked the previous three laps. I weaved in and out of the slower runners on the course. Just before the final hill I could hear the crowd cheering as the leader crossed the finish line and I knew it would be over soon. I was incredibly glad to be done, but the way it ended was brutally bittersweet. I wasn’t surprised that I lost the race (I had been expecting to lose since about mile 25), but I was totally caught off guard by how I lost.

At the finish line. Photo by Melissa.

After leading the race for about 40 miles I finished 2nd place in 9:20, by far the slowest of my four 50 mile races. And I think I was in better shape for it than I was for the others. The course was hard, but I don’t think it was harder than Berryman, and the weather was much better for this one. I’m running out of excuses. The truth is I have no explanation for what happened to me from mile 22-30 where I just felt like death. It was a bad day for me.

But I’ll live to fight again.

Running

September was a little bit crazy. I was feeling great. I’ve been so conservative for so long with rest days, I decided to take a risk and try to push myself a bit. I didn’t really run farther than usual, but I ran more frequently. One week I went so far as to run 7 days in a row. That week I ran 86 miles, which is a good 12 miles farther than my previous highest mileage week. I sacrificed a bit of cycling, swimming, and walking, but I made it through the month without a major injury (though I was a bit sore and tired) and I’m feeling fit and ready to race.

I waffled back and forth all month on what event I would do next. First I thought 50 mile. Then road marathon. Plus a 50K. Then 100 mile. I finally settled on my original idea of a 50 mile race at Farmdale (where I won the 30 mile race last fall). I’m hoping to do well. Running 50 miles is never easy, but after my success at Howl at the Moon and my recent training I’m feeling quite confident in my fitness. And having your head in the right place can sometimes make all the difference in such long events.

Cycling

Walking & Hiking

Swimming

I think we were still on vacation in Colorado when Melissa read about an upcoming race she thought might interest me, the Corps of Discovery Trail Run, a half marathon on the Lewis and Clark trails–my favorite STL area trails.

Oh hell yes.

Four weeks after Howl at the Moon I was no longer sore and fatigued, but I wasn’t particularly well-trained either. This race wouldn’t be 8 hours of 9 minute pace running, it would be less than 2 hours as fast as the trail would allow. I’m kind of glad last week’s trail race kicked my ass so badly. If nothing else it better prepared me for running uncomfortably fast.

My fictional road half marathon seed time (I haven’t run a road half marathon in 10 years) placed me in the first wave of 10 starters. Each wave began 2 minutes apart because there was no real room to separate before hitting the trail. At the starting line I immediately noticed a local runner who has destroyed me every time I’ve raced against him. And then there was another guy who just looked really fast. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to win the race… but it wasn’t going to be for lack of trying. Who knows, maybe I would have some kind of home trail advantage.

Photos courtesy of Saint Louis Track Club

Moments before the race began the rain started to fall. I love racing in the rain, but this may have been too little too late. 10 meters through the parking lot, two tight turns, then we were on the trail. I stayed on the shoulder of the fast guy, with the other fast guy on my shoulder. I wasn’t going to set the pace (we may have walked up the hills if I had), but I intended to hang on as long as I could.

The first (and thankfully fastest) mile was 6:33. Then came a long fast downhill. On one switchback I looked back and no longer saw the guy I expected to win the race. I don’t know what happened to him, but he didn’t finish. But I didn’t know that yet. I continued to follow the pace of the other fast guy. Then we hit the first big uphill stretch and he floated away from me like I was standing still. I struggled to reach the top and picked up my pace a bit. I started to reel him back on the flat, then I caught back up on the next long downhill. Even with the big hill we still ran the second mile in 6:51. To put that into perspective, on my long easy training runs on this trail I usually run that mile in about 10:30-11:00.

Things weren’t looking good at this point. A bit after 3 miles in we hit the next big uphill and once again he was gone. This time for good. I never saw him again the rest of the race, and in the last 10 miles he put 6 minutes into me.

I struggled the rest of the race to find a good pace. There was nobody within sight, either in front of me or behind me. If I lost focus, even briefly, I would suddenly notice I was running easy, and then I would have to pick the pace back up. As far as I knew the other fast guy was still chasing me down. I did well on the flats and on the downhills, but my uphills were just awful. This is such a weakness for me but despite attempts to address it I just haven’t progressed.

With about 3 miles to go I reached a poorly designed wooden staircase (the only stairs on the trail). The individual steps actually slope downward. And they were wet. And I had to go down them. I held the railing and walked slowly only to fall on my ass anyway and slide the rest of the way down. My butt was scraped, my back was bruised, my fingers were splintered, it knocked the wind out of me, and it made me nauseous. I walked away, my pride hurting as much as my ass, for what felt like an eternity before I could work back up to a jog. The last 3 miles were not pretty.

I hung on to finish second place, well behind the leader. In fairness, if I had had a spectacular day I still don’t think I could have beaten him. By most measures I had a successful race, but it sure didn’t feel like it at the time. The combination of the fall, my poor uphill performance, and getting beaten by such a big margin on my home trail left me feeling disappointed. But I’ll get over it.

Running

Good month.

Cycling

Recovery.

Walking and Hiking

Recovery.

Swimming

I knew there was something I forgot to do last month.

I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting 166 people to show up to a trail race on a Thursday night in 95˚F heat and high humidity. But hey, it’s only 3.9 miles, how hard could it be?

Well, amongst those 166 people were some serious competitors. This was the 4th race in the Off Road Racing League’s August trail running series. I missed the first 3 due to Howl, vacation, and recovery. I’m not sure I’m completely recovered from Howl yet. I don’t having any lingering pains, I just don’t have a lot of zip in my step, if you know what I mean. It probably wasn’t the best time for a super fast trail race, but it should be fun.

I went out with the leaders, letting them set the pace while I evaluated how I felt. I came to a stop when the leader took a wrong turn, unsure of myself even though I had studied the map before the race. Then I came to a stop again after the leader took another wrong turn. The second time really wasn’t his fault (the turn was poorly marked), and I didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, so I waited for him to get back on the right trail before proceeding to set the pace myself. The leader was a bit impatient with my slightly more conservative pace and he soon passed me. I stuck with him, perhaps foolishly, allowing only enough room between us to see the trail.

Our first 2½ miles were around 5:45 pace, which was quite uncomfortable for me after a summer of long distance training. Then we hit the stairs–200 ft (~20 flights) almost straight up. He ran up, single-stepping. I briskly walked, double-stepping. As we slowed on the steps I heard a chase group behind start to catch up.

Photo courtesy of Alpine Shop

Photo courtesy of Alpine Shop

The leader pulled away from me as the stairs leveled off and we began to run again. Then we hit a short steep uphill and I was cooked. Two runners passed me and I dropped to fourth. I figured I would make up time on the long technical downhill section, but it wasn’t to be. I fell even further behind the leading trio. By the stream crossing at the bottom I was in full damage control mode. Just before the final 200m section through a wide open field I caught a glimpse of two more runners catching up to me fast, which unfortunately meant I’d have to work pretty hard for those 200m.

I hung on to 4th overall, 3rd male, 2nd age group. I received a $10 gift card to the Alpine Shop, which, along with the free Mountain Hardwear hat I received for registering, more than made up for the $16 entry fee.

Oh, and the “3.9” mile course was actually somewhere between 4.5 and 4.7 miles. I was so exhausted after the race I literally had difficulty lifting a slice of watermelon up to my mouth. But after a while I recovered, then I went back out for another 3 miles (in addition to the 3 miles I ran before the race). Next weekend I’m running a half marathon on my favorite STL area trail. If I was going to struggle in my first post-Howl race, I’m glad it was here rather than there.

My second attempt at the Howl at the Moon 8 Hour Run came last week. Last year this race was my first attempt at running ~50 miles (or anything farther than 50K). This time around I’ve already completed two 50+ mile races. I trained and raced well all summer. The weather was not supposed to be too hot. In short, things were looking good. I didn’t have a specific distance goal in mind, I just really wanted to run farther than last year.

Ready to race

With more confidence and better fitness I started the race a little bit faster this time. My first marathon of the day was 3h33m (compared to 3h45m last year). I knew I would slow down in a few more miles, so I tried to do it gradually, rather than have my pace fall off a cliff like last year.

In both of my previous 50+ mile races I went through a real rough patch from miles 35-45. This race would be no different. My quads were shot. They ached with every step I took. The fatigue was unmistakable. While this was uncharted territory for me a year ago, I was expecting it this time. And I was looking forward to it.

Instead of slowing to a crawl and wallowing in my misery I kept putting one foot in front of the other. Sure, I slowed, but not nearly as much as last year. Given the bad patch hit me at the exact same place as my two previous 50+ mile races, I had reason to believe I would also snap out of it in the same place as I did in my two previous 50+ mile races. During that whole spell I kept thinking to myself:

I just have to deal with this for a mere 10 miles. I can deal with anything for 10 miles.

I got this.

It wasn’t pretty, but I did what had to be done. The beast you know is far easier to tame than the beast you don’t know. The race wasn’t any easier for me physically this year, but it was way, way easier mentally. It’s pretty amazing to me how much of a difference that can make.

I had gone fast enough early on that I was over a full lap ahead of a very experienced acquaintance, TC, with whom I tied for 9th place last year with 50.35 miles. Around mile 45 TC caught back up to me (so I was exactly one lap ahead). He congratulated me on a great race (which was classy) then pushed past me. As he was pulling away I was snapping out of my funk. After a while he stopped gaining on me. Then I started to come back to him. By the time I reached him we were both energized and ready to finish strong. We ran the last two laps together, and I finished my 16th lap with 10 minutes left on the clock. Melissa finished her 13th and final lap at the same time. TC and I went out for another mile on the out-and-back section that opens late in the race.

I finished with 53.64 miles, bettering last year’s mark by one full 3.29 mile loop. Melissa ran 42.77 miles, bettering last year’s mark of 40.48 miles. I was 3rd place overall and 1st in the Open Male (under 40 years) division. Melissa tied for 22nd overall, 11th female, and 3rd Open Female (under 40 years). There were 333 people in the race, so she uncorked a big one. TC again finished with 50.35 miles (with 0 seconds left on the clock).

TC gets 4th place award

Melissa recovers in the shade

There were a few other notable tidbits from this race. My first marathon of the day was 3h33m (my 5th fastest marathon ever). My second marathon of the day was 4h12m (still faster than the first marathon I ever ran). My 50 mile split was 7h24m (much faster than the 7h50m it took me to reach 50 miles last year at Howl, and faster than the 8h45m it took me to reach 50 miles at Berryman in May, though that was a much harder course).

It was great to run Howl again this year. It’s so fun and well organized. It was great to see so many of our friends from our former home of Champaign-Urbana. This race has turned into something of a homecoming for us these past two years, and I’m quite pleased that both of us were able to put in really fine performances.