2014 TARC 100 - Volunteer report

It was a long, long day. Up early, no sleep, out in the hot sweltering sun, long periods on boredom interspersed with moments of excitement, panic, and the inability to think straight. It seemed to go on and on with no end in sight, but ending up being an incredibly rewarding experience with amazing camaraderie,  new friends, and people doing amazing feats of mind and body. And I didn't even run.

I volunteered last year at the TARC 100, working the midnight to noon shift at the Gun Club aid station. It was a great time and I had so much fun that I decided to up the ante a bit this year and work a full 24-hour shift. My wife Monica had a very important commitment on Monday that included getting a reasonable amount of sleep over the weekend, so she planned to work an 8 hour shift during the day on Saturday. Our assignment to start the day was manning a road crossing on a blind curve where cars were flying by and the runners would be sitting (or slowly moving) ducks. We arrived at 6:00 AM to find the tent and table with water already in place and met Mark who had started setting up the traffic cones in the road. We quickly sussed out the scene, set up our decorations (Hawaiian themed, left over from a Jimmy Buffett adventure) and arranged ourselves to watch for cars. When the first runners came through at 7:50 the day had already started heating up - it was going to be brutal out there.

The first group of 100 milers came through sporadically; one every 10 minutes or so. And then every 2-3 minutes and eventually in small groups. We had a few spectators joining us as well which made for a festive little gathering. Around 10:00 Erica joined us to make us a three person crew, which was much better for runner wrangling as the leaders were coming back after the loop out to the Farm aid station. Runners everywhere! TARC had supplied big jugs of water and Tailwind for the runners but we weren't an official aid station. I had brought some Twizzlers and snack mix that seemed to go over well but the heat was causing the runners to take much more water than expected. We ran out of water at one point - it was heartbreaking to have to tell the runners that we were out as they looked at their empty bottles. Fortunately Josh came by with a full jug, and we had a few more deliveries to make sure that didn't happen again.

As the day wore on the initial excitement of seeing the runners faded and instead we were inspired by the runners working though the incredible heat and difficult course.  For runners looping back from the Farm they had under 2 miles back to the Start-Finish line so there was a big incentive to keep moving and they all did. The 100 milers started at 5:00, the 50 milers at 7:00, so by now they'd been out there for long enough that all reserves had been burned off. We started seeing the first of the 100 milers coming back through at mile 42 - it still blows my mind. Amazingly, nearly everyone had a smile on their face, even if only for a brief instant. Most were in good spirits and even enjoying themselves. Things don't have to be fun in order to be fun.

At 2:00 our shift here was over. Monica had to head out so I packed up the Hotel Subaru and headed up the road to the Trading Post aid station, which sat at mile 5 of the 25 mile loop. This was the worst heat of the day and runners were enjoying the hose, the ice, and the watermelon. This aid station was luxury compared to last year at the Gun Club Road station - we had electricity, running water, refrigerators, and even a couch for brief naps. The able staff running the Training Post (Linnea and Jill) had things working like a fine-tuned machine so it was easy to slip in and help out where needed. It was also set up well for taking photos of the runners coming down the steep incline from the ridge. By now the runners were spread out all over the course so we didn't get real waves of runners but a semi-steady stream coming in. At times we had up to 5 or 6 athletes there, most other times just 1 or none.













The weather, course and distance were taking their toll on the runners. We had a handful drop with stomach, knee, and feet problems, but they all seemed to take that in stride.  As the sun went down the temps cooled off but ice was still our number one seller, and people were still asking to get sprayed down with the hose. But soon they were asking for the grilled cheese sandwiches (thanks to Curry and her mad grilled cheese sandwich skills) and ramen noodles. Alas, the mashed potatoes weren't a big hit. As night fell and the headlamps came out the mood changed dramatically. Runners retreated into their own worlds, illuminated by a solitary cone of light containing feet, roots, and rocks. The rest of Hale Reservation retreated into the distance.

Most of the runners on their third lap had pacers and it was fascinating watching the dynamic between the two. People don't sign up for the job of pacing, they take a solemn oath. They are bonded together, not as a team but as a single unit - connected by emotion, devotion, and dedication to serious suffering. And headlamps. We spent quiet stretches in scattered conversation watching into the gloomy night for the flicker of light that signaled the arrival of a runner. We sprang into action with the clang of cowbell, clapping, cheering, and the standard question "What can we get for you?" Water, ice, Tailwind, Gu, grilled cheese, soup, watermelon, salty things, sweet things, we had it all. They would grab their food, attend to gear issues, talk to us a bit, and then off into the night leaving us alone and waiting for the next arrival.

The crew at the aid station drifted off to take our naps; most had been working 20+ hours so an hour or two nap did wonders. I used the Hotel Subaru, and heard some fireworks from the beach as I drifted off to dreams of endless trails and a bottomless bowl of mashed potatoes. As one worker awoke another headed in for a nap, we really only needed 2 people on duty to handle the occasional runner. Around 4:00 the sky started to brighten imperceptibly and quickly turned to full on dawn. There were only a handful or runners left on the course so we slowly started breaking down the station; putting away the food items, packing up the stove, cleaning the dishes. The last runner I saw came through just around 5:00, and we went through the same routine before they headed off into the new day.

It was an amazing experience, one that gives you a much greater appreciation for the work required to put on a race. And it's extremely rewarding. You are on the receiving end of the most heartwarming smiles, grateful appreciation, and have a front row seat to watch amazing athletes of all shapes and sizes push themselves to their limits and beyond. I never saw anyone cross the finish line in triumph but I saw a thousand little victories along the way.

Sleep is for the weak.

Let's Start at the Very Beginning

This Monday Monica and I woke up at 4:45, dressed for the day, hit the Dunkin' Donuts for bagel sandwiches and drove to Hopkinton State Park where we hopped on a school bus into town and wandered a bit until we found the Boston Marathon Starting Line volunteer check in. We met Sally who was in charge of all of us, and then Ellen who was our corral leader, and began learning about our responsibilities as corral wranglers. We had corral #8 which was right at the junction of the main streets where the runners come from the Athletes Village toward the starting line. Because of the way they configured the corrals this year we were at a critical location as all the runners come to Main St and either head right to corrals 1-7, left to corral 9, or straight to 8. We were right in the center of things.

Last year's marathon bombing made it important to us to be a part of this year's event. Through a friend we connected with the Sally and were able to get a volunteer spot, the only newbies on our crew but everyone was welcoming and the job isn't rocket science. Basically, our assignment was to check that the runners entering our area were in the right wave and had the right corral number. It was easy at first, since wave 1 was the most relaxed and had the most time. The first couple dozen runners we talked to individually and pointed out the bags for trash and extra clothes. As we approached the start time the crowds picked up and there was a huge stream of runners entering. We were just gazing at bibs, not faces, looking mainly for '9's, the scarlet number that got you banished to the next corral down. There were a few but fortunately everyone took it in stride.

The mobility impaired and elite women runners took off at their assigned times but that all happened up front. There's a hill along the corrals so we couldn't see the starting line from where we were. Around 9:15 the first of the nervous wave 1 runners approached us and started filing inside the ropes. These folks either were too nervous to wait in the Athletes Village or just like being prompt. It wasn't until close to 9:45 that things really got busy, as a wave of runners came down Grove Street all trying to match the number on the lower right corner of their bib to the signs. The folks in wave 1 were experienced and fast marathoners, but you could sense the nervousness underneath the concentrated exteriors. The corral began to fill up quickly and we had to ask runners to move forward so they could all fit. After the national anthem the gun went off right at 10:00 as the first groups surged. The corrals were let go one at a time as space cleared up so it was a few minutes before 8 got the OK. We cheered, slapped dozens of high fives, and shouted encouragement as "our runners" started their journey.

We ran into the corrals to pick up trash and discarded clothes and as we turned around we saw a wall of runners being held 200 yards up Grove Street eager to get in line. The workers let them go and the wave of wave 2 came at us with the anxiety that only a waiting runner can produce. This time the corral filled up quickly and the gun would be going off in about 20 minutes so we had to move. As we approached the gun time there were still streams of runners headed our way. To get them all in we had to move some barricades and quickly. Even with that we there were runners outside the barricades when the gun went off. Fortunately, the runners seemed to take it all in stride (pardon the pun) and no one complained.

Waves 3 and 4 were a blur of runners arriving late and the volunteers running around to move barriers and herd everyone into the corrals. We get the last two waves off in time, and all of a sudden it's over. The last runners are on the course, we pick up the trash and discarded clothing, and make our way up the hill to grab some lunch. Sitting on the side of the road by the start line we watch as workers pick up the all the metal barriers. It'll be hours before the final runners cross the finish line in Boston but our job is done.

Running with Chuck

I've run with a lot of people over the past 5 years. Robyn was there with me for every step of the Boston Marathon and lots of the training runs. Monica has been a steady running partner for road and trail runs as we explore new areas and revisit old friends. Alyssa, Elizabeth, Reji, and lots of the others in TARC have introduced me to regular training runs in the Fells. Even from afar my brother has challenged me to run further and faster. But my first and best training partner has always been Chuck.

When I first started running I was working in Kendall Square. At lunch I'd head out and meet Chuck partway through the run. We'd enjoy the sun, the mid-day crowds, the running paths and then go our separate ways. We fell into an easy rhythm early on. Later, we planned runs together and they became my first 5 miler, 10 miler, 15 miler. One of the most important runs we did together was 18 miles long and it was the one that convinced me that the marathon was possible. Until then I'd had trouble with leg cramps on my long runs, but Chuck's familiar companionship, steady pace, and comforting manner made that run possible. Later I raced with Chuck in a summer 5K series, working on speed and enjoying the post race beer.

If you haven't guessed, Chuck is the Charles River. I've run along the Esplanade, around Harvard Square, from Community Rowing, out to Newton, and across the many bridges along the way. The bike path runs up and down either side of the river, all the way from the Museum of Science out to Newton. It ranges from vibrant and active sections by MIT and the Esplanade, straight and steady sections by the BU bridge where you hit your groove, isolated and quite paths in Watertown where you can sometimes run a mile without seeing another runner. It's got variety and familiarity, activity and solitude, running partners galore, people watching, crew boats and bikes to race with; pretty much everything to ensure you'll never get bored or complacent.

A few standout memories:

• Finishing my first 10 mile run just past the BU bridge, the feeling of elation at reaching an ambitious goal and making me feel like anything was possible.
• Post snowstorm night time run though deep drifts by the Anderson footbridge wearing every light I owned.
• Watching the sun rise while racing the crew boats at the Elliot bridge
• Long runs from Community Rowing with Robyn coaching me for the marathon
• Nearly passing out at the River Street bridge on a hot summer day, learning that some days are just not your day
• My first 5K race, standing in a huge crowd on Greenough Blvd trying to guess my pace.
• Cruising along the Cambridge side near MIT with Monica, looking at each other, and simultaneously saying "How about two extra bridges?"

I still look forward to running with Chuck on most days. We live about a mile from the river so on the shortest runs I don't get a lot of river time, but some
days I'll drive straight to the river, pick a spot, put on the headphones, and think "How many bridges today?"

Snowy run

I managed to get out of the office just as the snow started falling. By the time I got to Alewife the snow was sticking pretty well and traffic had slowed considerably. On Concord Ave at dusk I noticed two runners, clad in standard issue neon yellow tops and black tights pick their way through the 1/2" of freshly fallen snow on the sidewalk and glide effortlessly along the crosswalk. That looks like fun, I thought, but it'll be fully dark by the time I make it home. Some memories flooded back of training for Boston when I ran in all weather, pre-dawn or post-sunset so I decided to give it a shot. Somerville had declared a snow emergency so my first order of business was to find parking but as I came in the door I announced to Monica that I was going to change and go for a run. Without skipping a beat she said that I should grab the ankle reflectors in the closet. That's why I married her. :)

Off with the work clothes, on with the winter running gear. Tights, shell, hat, gloves, reflective vest and ankle reflectors. The trail runners seemed a better choice for the conditions so I put those on along with my Dirty Girl gaiters. Out the door I went, just 15 minutes after arriving home, into the steadily falling snow and full darkness - although with all the streetlights and white snow it was hard to tell. I had two flashing lights and lots of reflective gear so I felt as safe as I could as I took off down the street.

It wasn't quiet like some snowy runs; everyone was on their way home and the streets were still full of cars. The sidewalk was fairly good traction but slippery in places so I took my time. Waiting at the first stoplight I wondered in the people in their cars were looking at me like I was looking at the two runners I saw, only without the gliding effortlessly - I plod. I'm a plodder. The Walk sign came up and off I went towards Harvard Square. I met a few runners and we exchanged self-congratulatory pleasantries before parting ways. I decided to stick to the more well light route since I was having some trouble seeing the contours of the brick sidewalk and didn't want to trip.

Along the river it was quiet and snowy and all I had hoped for. As I crossed the bridge and waited for traffic it struck me that I loved living near the city. I continued inbound on the Boston side of the Charles following another runners footprints and the path of one seriously confused bicyclist. I crossed paths with another runner at the next bridge, but they were so bundled up that I couldn't tell their gender. We gave each other a silent wave. Back on the Cambridge side I was slipping a bit and had trouble staying in the middle of the sidewalk - maybe it was time to finish this up. Back through Harvard Square and back to the brick sidewalks that were now making it tough to keep any rhythm to my stride. Almost home - do I push it? Nope, just not worth it. And it wasn't what I was looking for tonight.

In my training log it's listed as 3.7 miles at a fairly slow pace. In my memory it's a winter wonderland.

Pinelands 50K trip report - 5/26/2013

Finishing

The runners in front of me were negotiating a stream crossing as I picked out my footing in the ankle deep mud so I didn't pay much attention. At water's edge I tried skirting around the left side but the water quickly rose up to my knees as my feet sank in the mire. Pulling my left leg out I was gratified to see my shoe came with it. Back on to firmer ground I walked a dozen paces to let the majority of the muck drain out and started a slow trot up the next hill. The runners ahead of me slowly but steadily pulled away. Six kilometers down, just 44 left to go.

It wasn't easy, it wasn't pretty, and it certainly wasn't fast but I completed the goal I set for myself; run a 50K race before my 50th birthday. Several friends recommended Pinelands as a well run race with a nice course and good footing to try for my first ultra so I signed up in December and started training in earnest. The winter is a tough time to train, especially for trail running and I developed a pain in my left heel that left me unable to run at times. Plus, winter is ski season and Monica and I went to Austria for a week in the middle of February, so my training really didn't pick up until March. There were a lot of long runs, including a 22 miler and a few 19 milers that left me feeling adequately prepared, if not really on top of my game.

Why yes, there was some mud

A week before the race the forecast looked great, then things started going downhill. It was going to be pouring rain all week, including Saturday when the 5K races were all being run. The organizers posted that the course might be a big muddy. Monica and I headed up to a hotel in Freeport on Saturday night after Peter and Anne's wedding and it rained the whole way. We had every conceivable piece of clothing available for possible conditions during the race; me for running and Monica for crewing. Off to Dunkin Donuts for a breakfast sandwich and then to Pinelands to meet up with friends and get things started.

When we arrived it was raining lightly but it seemed much nicer than it could have been. The 50 Mile runners were already on the course and you could see things were going to be slick. As we walked over to the sign to take a group shot several of us were picking our way to avoid the deep water. Foolish humans. In the first 100 yards of the race all of our feet were soaked and caked with mud, and it never let up for the entire course. I started running a bit faster than I should have, trying to keep pace with the folks I'd started with. My left heel was a bit touchy already, I wasn't sure how it was going to handle the day. By the time we reached the second aid station (the Yurt) we were all covered in mud and willing to stop, eat, and drink. It had sunk in that I wasn't going for any particular time, just trying to survive.

Monica was at the Yurt aid station and I'd see her there twice more on the first lap. The sections though the fields were pretty horrific. The grass had been mowed to a 8 foot wide path, but the footing was an unrelenting mess. There were trampled paths on the sides or down the center, but it was only firm ground in comparison to the slop everywhere else. Mud squished out on every step, sometimes sending you sliding down an incline or stumbling while the suction tried to remove a shoe. Parts were nearly impossible to run and when we hit the drier sections I was too tired to run up most hills. It drained me physically and emotionally.

The end of the first yurt loop

There were two loops coming back to the yurt and I ate and drank each time. By the second loop I'd lost all the people I'd started with and settled into a slow but mostly steady pace. It was clearly going to be a long day. My left heel was throbbing slightly, letting me know it hadn't forgotten about me. At the Valley aid station Monica gave me my MP3 player and the music really helped. I had to fast forward through two songs as the day went on; Stairway to Heaven and The Long and Winding Road. As the loop took us past the start/finish area I saw the hoard of 25K runners starting their run. My main goal at this point was to avoid being passed by any of them. Looking at the finish times I think I mostly accomplished that goal.

The last third of the loop was much drier but had more hills. I remember a very depressing sign that had an arrow pointing one way for "Last Chance Cut Off" and one pointing the way we were going labeled "Gloucester Hill". I spent this time mostly alone, running where I could and walking lots on the steeps. This was definitely the low point of my spirits and thoughts of dropping at the end of the lap came unbidden to my head. Monica was there at the start/finish which brightened my spirits, and just the act of completing the lap made me keep going. Everything was going to be familiar terrain after this - I knew what to expect at least. Finally, every step was bringing me closer to the finish which is an amazing psychological boost.

The loneliness of the long distance runner

At the starting line I was wearing shorts, calf sleeves, Dirty Girl gaiters, a long sleeve shirt under a short sleeve, a running jacket, gloves and baseball cap . Before the gun I handed the jacket to Monica as it was clearly too hot for it. At one of the aid stations I peeled off the long sleeve shirt and gloves since they weren't needed. Later I took my running vest from Monica and used that for the rest of the race. By the end of the race everything but the hat was covered with mud; I'm not sure the shoes will ever be the same. The socks went right into the trash.

Most of the second lap is a blur - lots of slogging in the mud, holding out until the end of a song before taking a walking break, being passed by 50 milers, and lots of encouraging words from runners, spectators, and volunteers. As I approached the start/finish line, which meant I had less than 10K left, it dawned on me that I was really going to finish. I wasn't wearing my GPS watch and couldn't do math in my head but I think my pace finally picked up near the end. I could do enough math to figure when I'd passed the 26.2 mile marker and that felt real good. I ran without seeing other runners for long stretches as the kilometers clicked down. As I pulled into the Last Mile aid station I saw a woman who had passed me about 5 miles earlier and I used her as motivation to run the final stretch. I actually passed her about 100 yards from the finish line, expecting to run in with her but she held back so I finished solo. I made it look good for the remaining spectators - Monica was cheering me home and that was the best part.

TARC!

The best crew ever

This was an amazing experience, both the race itself and the training. I've gotten encouragement and well wishes from lots of athletes, many of whom were there that day running along with me. It's a goal I set for myself two years ago after finishing the Boston Marathon and there were times of injury and pain when I thought it was never going to happen. My biggest support is Monica, who gave up lots of weekends up north because I had to train, or was recovering from training, or was blathering on about training and my injuries. Seeing her 10 times on the course meant the world to me. I have no idea if I'm going to run another ultra. Certainly not for a while as too many things have been on hold while I pursued this goal. We have other plans for the summer and while I'm sure I'll be running quite often I am enjoying the freedom that comes with no deadlines.

Training Log - Week ending 4/6/2013

Sunday 3/31 - 3.55 miles @ 10:40 - Recovery run day after longest run of the year. Very slow.

Monday 4/1 - Rest day plus painful but helpful sports massage.

Tuesday 4/2 - 4.01 miles @ 10:30 - Slow but productive run

Wed 4/3 -60 minutes on the exercise bike

Thursday 4/4 - 4.15 miles @ 10:30- Trail running from work with hills

Friday 4/5 - Rest Day

Saturday 4/6 - 11.03 miles @ 12:03 - Trail run in the Fells, some foot pain during and after

Total Mileage -22.8 Miles
Less mileage, slower pace this week, but 100 miles in the last 4 weeks. Ended the week with some foot pain. 7 weeks to Pinelands.

Training Log - Week ending 3/30/2013

Sunday 3/24 - Telemark skiing at Cannon. New boots, binding problems, and watching Monica's nephew race cut down on the number of runs but I could still feel my legs.

Monday 3/25 - 5.1 miles @ 10:00 - Solo lunch run, wasn't planning on much but felt good enough to extend to 5. No watch or music, just me and the road.

Tuesday 3/26 -Rest day

Wed 3/27 -3.6 miles @ 10:00 - Hill repeats, my first time trying these at a hill near the office, 4 laps

Thursday 3/28 -Rest day

Friday 3/29 - 4.6 miles @ 10:38 - Legs felt like lead, but glad to have accomplished it

Saturday 3/30 -15.5 miles @ 12:46 - 2 laps of the Fells Reservoir trail, plus a little extra. That's 25K, just have to do that twice at Pinelands.

Total Mileage -28.8 Miles
Three weeks in a row of increased mileage. 8 weeks to Pinelands.

Training Log - Week ending 3/23/2013

Last week was a good training week, this week I managed to keep up the momentum. I'm pretty tired but I managed to crank out another long run, albeit a slow one.

Sunday 3/17 - 45 minutes of lifting and stretching at the gym

Monday 3/18 - 5.1 miles @ 9:37 - lunch run with Tery and Pete, then on my own. Pushed it to 5 miles instead of my planned 4.

Tuesday 3/19 - Road the stationary bike for 45 minutes

Wed 3/20 - 5 miles @ 10:19 - lunch run, pushed myself to run the full 5

Thursday 3/21 - rest day

Friday 3/22 - 3.7 miles @ 10:36 - Predawn run before podiatrists appointment

Saturday 3/23 - 13.1 miles @ 10:09 pace - Pretty decent run along the Charles, from home to the Museum of Science and back, plus a little extra to make it 13.1. Slight calf cramps at the end; have to keep an eye on that.

Total Mileage - 26.9 miles
Two solid weeks in a row, really ramping up the miles finally. 9 weeks out from Pinelands.

Training Log - Week ending 3/16/2013

Thought I'd write down the training log from last week. It was my first full week back and it was a big mileage week to ramp up.

Sunday 3/10 - 5.07 miles @ 9:55 pace - Squeezed in a run before dark thanks to Daylight Saving Time

Monday 3/11 - rest day

Tuesday 3/12 - 5.00 miles @ 10:00 pace - Early morning run from home, finished before sunrise

Wed 3/13 - 45 minutes on the stationary bike at the gym

Thursday 3/14 - 4.15 miles @ 9:40 pace - Another morning run but this time in daylight

Friday 3/15 - 30 minute on the stationary bike at the gym

Saturday 3/16 - 10 miles @ 12:15 pace - Long trail run in the Fells with Robyn and Max

Total Mileage - 24.22 miles
My longest week in a long time, 10 weeks out from Pinelands

10 in the Fells

The last time I ran 10 miles was almost exactly a year ago. My foot has been bothering me the past several months and we took a ski vacation in Europe in February so my training for the upcoming Pinelands 50K trail run has lagged behind schedule. I'm not going to be as well prepared as I hoped, but as long as I stay healthy I will make it to the starting line. I can't be sure what will happen after that but I'm concentrating on getting some good long runs in and staying healthy.

I met Robyn and Max at the Bellevue Pond parking area at the Fells on a cold but clear morning. The temperature was 32 degrees so we all had hats and gloves on. I was wearing my trail shoes with my new orthotics that the podiatrist gave me. I've been having pain in my left heel that seems related to my plantar fasciitis but x-rays also showed some heel spurs. The doctor assured me that everyone my age has some heel spurs but that it wouldn't explain the pain. He told me to stretch every day, take some Ibuprofen to get the inflammation under control, and wear the new orthodics. So far it's been pretty good and I was able to ramp up to over 20 miles this week. The highlight of my training plan was a long trail run in the Fells, and my hope was 8-10 but I was aware that I hadn't done a really long run for a long time.

We started at a pretty slow pace as we warmed up. Robyn has been working in India for a while so she hasn't been able to run much, and Max started running more recently and had a little foot pain, so our little trio had moderately low expectations. The snow was mostly gone but we encountered a bunch of wet and icy conditions that kept us on our toes. The loop is 7.5 miles and we kept a pretty steady pace between 11 and 13 minute miles. We kept on the easier footing with some occasional bits on the Skyline trail with more rocks. I felt pretty good as we got back to the cars but I had my mind set on 10 miles so I told them I was headed back out for a little more. Knowing Robyn's competitive nature it was like shooting fish in a barrel and she agreed to head back out. Poor Max didn't know what hit him.

The last 2.5 miles sucked, frankly. We were tired and chose a rough trail and nothing is fun when you're a slave to a GPS watch. We finally got to a trail with better footing and guessed at the point to turn around to ensure exactly 10.  Our mood improved dramatically as we turned around and our estimate was pretty much dead on. We had to run a hundred feet past the cars until the watch clicked over 10 miles and we were all happy to be done.

I had some discomfort in my foot but no pain. That in itself was a victory. To finish 10 trail miles was the first real indication that I might be able to do the 50K in May. It's still an uphill battle (pardon the pun) but I'm headed in the right direction.

Garmin track of the run

Jingle Bells and Commitment

At the 2011 Somerville Jingle Bell Run I ran with Brenda, and Monica was our cheer leading section and head photographer.  She enjoyed the experience so much that she said she wanted to train so she could run the race in 2012 - her goal after being out of running for a long time.  Not only did she achieve that goal of running the race this year (in a very fetching elf costume I might add) but she raced a summer 5K series and a 5 miler up in NH, plus has added training runs every week.  The run this year was just as much about being part of 5000 costumed crazies as it was about completing a task that was started a year earlier.  This year's race was great; we had good costumes (Monica in green, Dave in blue), got a great parking spot, ran a good race, and easily made it into Redbones for the free meal and beer after.  You can't ask for much more from a cold December Sunday with rain in the forecast.

I've been talking about my goals for a while, and one that has been on my list but that hadn't yet come into fruition was running a 50K before my 50th birthday.  My previous blog entry was about it and I talked about possible races I could enter.  On 12/12/12 a message came across my facebook wall about a special offer to save $12 on the entry fee and I bit.  A few keystrokes later and I'm officially registered for the Pineland Trail 50K.  It felt great to take a tangible step toward my goal and commit publicly.  The die is cast.

Figuring out how to combine my ski schedule this winter and work related travel with long training runs will present some interesting challenges, but goals aren't meant to be easy.  I'm working now to map out the training schedule and find a few kindred spirits to train with as I enter the new world of ultras.  Once more into the breach!

50/50 Split

This past weekend I heard that TARC was holding their Fells Trail Ultra (5 laps of the 8 mile Skyline Trail) and it's just a few miles from home so I figured I'd stop by.  Kristina was running and Ryan was going to be pacing her for some of the laps so I could visit, hang out and take a few photos.  I got there a few minutes after the start unfortunately so I wasn't going to see the runners for another hour.  Ryan and I chatted for a bit and I took a walk around some trails a bit, going gingerly on my sore ankle.  The falling snow made for some nice photography, as well as cold, wet running.  Eventually the runners started showing up and I started taking pictures, one of my favorite things.


All the runners looked like they were having fun despite the steady snow and cold temps. I waited for Kristina to arrive, smiling like always, and near the front of the pack.  I felt the need to stay and photograph the entire field, because that's what photographers do.  I really like trail running and I really like pushing myself, and observing the race made me more committed to my goal of running a 50K before my 50th birthday next year.  Right now I'm planning on the Pinelands Farm 50K up in Maine on Memorial Day weekend.  That should give me enough time after the end of ski season to get in some long runs and not miss too much skiing.  I'm thinking that the TARC Spring Classic would be the right tune up race as well, and I'd love to run a TARC event.

I'm not sure why I've latched onto the idea of a 50K for my 50th, but it's pretty firmly set in my brain.  It's not much more than a marathon distance, but there's something about being able to call myself an ultramarathoner that has great appeal.  It's the internal challenge, since at my pace I clearly don't care about time. The discipline, the self-control, the drive to work through pain and setbacks; those all have a strong pull as I approach a milestone birthday.  Yes, it's just a number but if  nothing else it give you pause to reflect and make plans.

So that's my plan; 50 by 50.  I'll be the first to admit it's not the best plan but it's mine and I'm sticking to it.  Unless the ski season is fantastic and I have no time to train, then I'll pick another 50K.

The Art of Getting Lost

As Douglas Adams said, "The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss."  Translated into trail running, the knack lies in learning how to get lost while knowing where you are.  In the past few trail runs I've managed to get turned around, doubled back, and confused, and yet was never worried about getting back. Most of the places I run, the the Fells, Waldon Pond, and Great Brook Farms, are bounded by roads, rivers, or obvious barriers.  As long as I can determine which way to go when I hit the barrier I'm good. 

When Amy, Bonny, and I ran in Walden recently the started at the pond and that was pretty straightforward.  Well, except for AAA replacing Amy's car battery in the parking lot and Bonny locking her keys in her car, but that's another story. The first loop was simple, around the the pond and back to the restrooms.  We guessed at a few trail intersections but Rt 2 is a pretty big barrier to miss.  From there we went to trails none of us had been on but we had a map so what could go wrong?  Bonny's knee started hurting her so we figured out a route for her to head back along a road and we continued on.  At one point Amy recognized the road to the Gropius House so we turned that way and entered the woods again.  We came across some railroad tracks which were on the map and that led us back to the trail next to the road which we followed almost back to the car.  At the last minute we followed some trails we came in on and then missed a turn so we ended up climbing up the one hill on the map. 

When we hit the road on the other side of the hill we pulled out the man and realized that we had missed the turn we were looking for.  We knew exactly where we were, but it wasn't where we wanted to be.  So, back up over the hill turning our 6 mile run into a 7 mile run.  On the other side we got headed back the direction we wanted and chose to drop out to the road to avoid another additional section.  Back at the cars we took stock of the situation, Bonny was still locked out but we could handle that.  It was a long run, longer than we had planned but we had everything we need, and were never far from where we wanted to be, which is all you can ask from a run.

This morning I went to the Fells, the location of my one seriously lost episode.  I was trying a new area which would hopefully give me a shorter loop.  The parking area at Bellevue Pond was full so I parked just up the road and took a trail I'd never seen to the Mountain Bike Loop.  From there I ran on familiar trails, but in the opposite direction than I usually run. Fortunately, there are some unmistakeable landmarks to make sure I was in the right place.  But I ran a section of the Reservoir trail that I rarely use, and managed to get turned around enough that when I hit Molly's Spring Road I turned the wrong way.  Fortunately I saw a sign for a parking area that, to my mind, was pointing the wrong way so I followed it out to the road to check where I was, figured out my location on the map and headed back in the right direction.  It took all of 5 minutes to get back on the right path, but it was 5 minutes well spent.  The rest of the run was uneventful and I made it back right on schedule.

I enjoy getting lost occasionally.  It sharpens the mind, quickens the pulse, and keeps me engaged in an otherwise ordinary run.  In full daylight there's no real danger, but I'll try to avoid it near sunset.  On both of the runs described here I had everything I needed, food and water, cell phone, and a general idea of where I was. I'm not sure I would feel the same way if I was in a brand new area, but close to home it can't be beat.

Just One More ...

48!

Just one more peak to finish Monica's 4000'ers.  As most people near the end of their list they start evaluating the remaining mountains to choose the right one for the final peak.  The three remaining candidates for Monica were Carrigain, Cabot, and Isolation, and she chose Isolation for a few reasons.  I think being a long hike worked a bit against it, but it's much better than Cabot for the view, and the road walk for Carrigain (Sawyer River road was closed until this weekend) dampened that choice.  She's been working on the list for 2 years as she got the hiking bug just before we met.  Until we started hiking she didn't really know about the 4000'ers and this became a serious goal for her.  The past two summers we dedicated a chunk of time to knocking off mountains on the list, including some ambitious weekends.  She and her sister did a two night Presidential Traverse saying at Madison and Lakes last year, and this year we did a Bonds Traverse on a gorgeous day to pick off a bunch more, followed five days later by Owls Head.  As the summer ended and fall started we were determined to finish up this year.

Just one more mountain to finish my 3rd round of the 4000'ers.  For years I only needed two peaks to finish my 3rd round; Owlshead and Isolation. I hiked them the first time as part of my 4000'ers.  The second round I was accompanying others on their peaks and it was the same for the third round.  Well, that's not fair to Isolation, which has a fantastic view and is wonderfully remote.  Owlshead is just a too long walk in the woods to a cairn in the trees.  Sorry everyone who loves Owlshead, but it will never be a favorite of mine.  At this point, if I do Isolation and Owlshead again I think I'll complete my 4th round, but I think I'll stop counting at this point.

Just one more weekend dedicated to finishing the list. Hiking is a great joy for both of us, and the 4000'ers list is a great way to explore and track your accomplishments.  And it is a big accomplishment; it represents a commitment of time and energy over an extended time period to achieve an end.  There are (literally) high points and low points along the way; spectacular views and knee deep mud.  But with the end in sight it sometimes feels like a chore to knock off another peak on the list each weekend.  Fortunately there always seems to be at least one memorable view, animal sighting, conversation, or just mind clearing moment of Zen along the way.  Still, not having to plan your weekends around a list is extremely liberating and we're both looking forward to having no constraints.

Just one more day, the forecast on Saturday was for rain all afternoon.  I don't know if it really fell up there since we drove up that afternoon but the Sunday forecast looked good and we woke up to a beautiful sunrise in Jackson.  I'm not really good at delaying plans but I finished my first round of the 4000'ers on Isolation, alone and in the rain, and I didn't want Monica's finish to suffer a similar fate.  It would be colder on Sunday, but had the right gear and we could sense the start of Fall with some possible snow in the forecast for the next day.

Just one more mile from the junction of the Isolation (East) trail and the Davis Path to the summit.  We've been rock hopping, negotiating waterlogged trails, and leaping across stream crossings for 3.5 hours and the end is in sight.  It's a simple goal, but it also represents the end of a major goal and the two thoughts are intertwined.  Of course, the trail along the ridge is a muddy mess (how does this happen on a ridgetop?) and we navigate with care.  I knew that the sign to the summit spur trail was gone, but the two other signs remained on the Davis Path so finding the way wasn't difficult.  Just a few more steps and there we were!  Oops, the true summit is 20 feet further over the scrub; OK, now we're really there!


Just one more stream crossing, one more mile of mud, one more encounter with hikers headed in, one more stumble on a rock hidden under a pile of colorful fallen leaves.  After feeling a bit grumbly on the way in the return trip was surprising quick and painless.  Yes, it went on for a while but the rock hopping and mud were a minor inconvenience rather than the mind numbing chore we thought it would be.  Hiking out is always easier than the trip in and with the realization that this goal had been completed we started discussing other hiking goals, like a one day Presidential Traverse, backpacking the Adirondacks, some longer dayhikes next summer and the upcoming ski season.  But no new lists for a bit.

Just one more person accompanied me on this trip up Isolation than did on my first time; but if it's the right person one is enough.

First run of Autumn

It was a weekend full of activity, a perfect way to Fall Back.  It started with a mountain bike ride down in Wompatuck State Park with Jeff on a somewhat drizzly Saturday morning.  Unknown to us there was a road cycling fundraising ride being run out of the park so we had to park at some random side area but it was a small detour.  We road a good chunk of the course Monica and I road a few weeks ago, and explored a few new areas as well.  Both of us had our share of falls; I managed to pull a muscle in my chest and get scrapes all up my left arm, but it was worth it.  After watching Jeff trying to handle some of the rockier sections on his hardtail, I'm happier than ever with my full suspension 29'er.

Sunday we met a few friends for Dim Sum in the morning, then did a bunch of housework before heading to the Fells to take advantage of this great Fall weather.  This was the first run in my Brooks Cascadia 6 trail shoes and they worked great.  No foot pain, great traction, and they go really well with my Lime Gatorade Hurl Dirty Girl gaiters.  It was Monica's first real trail run.  We had done running as part of some long hikes along the Wilderness Trail but this was the first time we set out for the purpose of running.  She used her Camelback pack with mixed success; I used my Nathan belt.

Fortunately, my sore ribs really didn't bother me much.  I felt pain when I needed to take a jarring step or twisting motion, and when I tripped and went down it wasn't an entirely pleasurable experience, but for the most part I was fine.  On the easy footing flats especially things felt pretty close to normal so that bodes well for some runs this week.  We did a modified Reservoir Loop of about 5.75 miles, which is a great way to end the weekend and start the Fall.

Garmin Track of the run - Ignore the elevation numbers, at one point it had us at 184 feet below sea level

Oh, so that's what improvement feels like

I'm not a fast runner.  Other runners seem to have a gear that they can shift into when they want to pour it on; not me.  I have one gear - plodding.  Don't get me wrong; it's a good gear.  I like plodding.  It's a fairly efficient pace, with some variety between slowly jogging and rapidly ambulating.  My pace got me through a marathon and I'm pretty pleased with that.  My schedule this summer hasn't allowed for too many long runs, so Monica and I signed up for a series of Thursday night 5Ks along the Charles River.

I have never placed in the top 10 for my age group and unless I find a race with fewer than 50 participants I probably never will.  But I like racing because it gives me an objective measurement to gauge my progress.  Training runs, no matter how well intentioned or rigorously run don't put you in the same frame of mind.  In the minutes before the starting gun you anticipate, concentrate, and fully invest.  No matter how important the training is, it never puts me the same frame of mind.

Last Thursday was the final 5K of the summer.  Monica couldn't make it so I was running solo for the first time this year.  On a whim I decided to run with my MP3 player, something I've never done in a race before except for the first Jingle Bell Run 4 years ago.  I usually like paying attention to the sights and sounds around me, especially when running with someone else but this was an unusual solo run so all bets were off.  The start was delayed by reasons unknown for 15-20 minutes so we all had extra time to mill about and get a little extra anxiety.

I moved a bit further up in the queue than usual as the crowd was a little lighter than the previous races in the series; perhaps the earlier start and the impending darkness played into it.  As the crowd surged forward I felt surprisingly good. The hip problems and general lethargy of the past month weren't present so this was a pleasant surprise for me.  I started scanning the runners ahead of me and thinking "I should be faster than him or her."  It's not pretty, but it often works for me.  Granted, some of those people I think I should be faster then just pull away and I never see them again, but such is life.

At the one mile mark my pace was 8:11, faster than any other race we've done this summer.  So, naturally I slowed down a bit but nothing was hurting and my stride was easy so I crept the pace back up. After the first mile and the out-and-back most folks settle out into a steady stream of about the same pace.  I passed a few people, a few people passed me.  I was tempted by the water station but decided I was going to push it a bit so I sped (ha!) by the folks getting water, crossed the bridge, and entered the home stretch.

Except it's still 1.1 miles to the finish and that section seems to go on forever.  With .5 miles to go I attempted to increase my pace but that elusive gear remained elusive.  Looking the data from the watch I guess I sped up a bit but just barely until the last .2 miles.  Lots of folks passed me in this section, including several that I had passed between miles 1 and 2; that hurt.  But with the end literally in sight and the smell of BBQ in the air I pulled it together and crossed the finish with my pride intact.  My time was 25:40, around 30 seconds faster than my previous PR.  It's not a huge improvement but 10 secs/mile is nothing to sneeze at.  I finished 300/807 overall, 202/347 males.

Pushing 50 it's nice to see that I can still improve.  There's hope for me yet, still trying to work the clutch and get the shifter into that elusive higher gear. 

Garmin Track of the race

Taken for a ride

I had my gym bag with me at work on Friday, getting ready for a post work run that I wasn't really looking forward to.  I'd had a few mediocre runs recently and this seemed (at least in my head) to be shaping up for another.  At 2:00 PM Monica texted me that she would throw the bikes on the car and meet me at Great Brook Farms if I wanted to go for a mountain bike ride instead. That sounded better for my disposition and my legs, so we agreed to meet there around 5:45 for some playing in the mud.

Aside from both of us making wrong turns on our way to place we'd been to many times we arrived without major incident.  Monica brought all my biking clothes I changed in the restrooms and we started riding.  After a quick loop to warm up we headed to our favorite single track loop.  This was my first time at Great Brook on my new bike and the difference was pretty significant.  I'm finally beginning to let the bike do it's job, and concentrate on doing my job.  I can pedal just fine, keep the bike pointed in the right direction, and trust that the suspension will absorb the impacts. The best example was the narrow bridges on the Tophet Loop.  In the past I was constantly adjusting the steering, worried about dropping off the side into the mud.  Now, the bridges just seemed wider.  I could look ahead and plan for the dismount and keep my speed up.

Over a rock wall

After the Tophet Loop we did the more technical Keyes Loop which has a few rock walls to scale.  I gave up on the first one, and after making it over the later ones on the trail I really wish I had tried it again.  Next time.  Then we explored a new area, trying to follow the map and find more single track.  Aside from a lot of dogs barking at us and getting turned around once we found some good terrain that we'll return to.  It was getting a bit dark as we finished that loop so we decided to head back to the cars rather than fight the dusk.  There's one section that we rode a long time ago where we both had to walk and even carry the bikes that I'd like to try again.

A great Friday alternative to heading to Applebee's for a beer and potato skins. Can't wait to explore some more.

GPS track of the ride 

Owl's Head dayhike

Another of the long hikes remaining for Monica's 48 was Owl's Head, the much maligned and often lamented walk in the woods.  We had just done a 20 miler 5 days ago but the weather was too good to pass up and, frankly, we were in a groove.  I was a bit worried about the blister on my heel, but I had run the day before and it survived so we decided to go for it.

Early morning start

Owl's Head, by the standard route, is 8 miles of flat, 1 mile up, 1 miles down, and 8 more miles of flat.  Unless you miss the turnoff to the slide path, but more on that later.  We left Boston early and managed to arrive at the trail head and get on the trail before 8:00 AM.  We decided to start off by running the Wilderness Trail and get some miles under our belt quickly.  After a few minutes finding the start of the Franconia Brook trail (don't ask) we alternated running/walking until we got to the Lincoln Brook trail junction.  Aside from a few muddy sections the footing was fine and the ground level.

On the slide

The Lincoln Brook trail isn't as easy to run so we hiked along at a good pace until we reached the first stream crossing.  It's the biggest one of the trip and we spend a good 15 minutes scouting out the best crossing point.  Even with that Monica slipped on a wet rock and got her shoes and socks wet.  We dried them as best we could and kept an eye on any potential blisters but it wasn't going to change our plans.  We ran into our first other hikers of the day, coming out from 13 Falls, as they were crossing the opposite direction by wading across.  The second crossing is short way away, and we made it across this one after another 15 minutes of searching but without significant incident.

On the summit

There are two more stream crossings along the way but they're a bit smaller so we didn't spend any time scouting those. After the 4th crossing the Owl's Head slide path takes off to the right, but we managed to walk right past it.  I got a feeling that we had done so but we wanted to make sure before reversing course so we went 25 minutes past the crossing before deciding to turn around and look again.  Sure enough we spotted the path easily on the way back and only lost 45 minutes or so.  Up we went, picking our path through the rocks and scree.  We got some nice view from the slide and tried to keep a steady pace while climbing.

The next step wasn't a good one

Once at the top of the slide followed the well worn but too long trail to the old summit, where a rock arrow pointed us to the new summit.  I'd never been there before, my previous two trips were to the old summit so this was new terrain for me.  There are several herd paths but they all generally lead to the right place.  We had a nice lunch of prosciutto and provolone wraps and a well earned apple and a bit of a rest before heading back down.  The slide wasn't bad on the way down, and we ran into a guy with two big loveable black labs heading up for the night.

Once down we filled up water at the first stream crossing and added iodine purifier.  The trip out was pretty uneventful except for me falling off a rock on the third crossing and getting a wet foot.  We both used our water shoes for the final crossing and the cold water on our feet and legs felt great.  From the Franconia Brook trail junction we ran most of the way, walking a few times but keeping up a good pace. The last 2 miles on the Wilderness trail always suck, but knowing there was a cold beer in the car waiting for us helped.  The trip took just under 10 hours, surprisingly a few minutes longer than the Bonds traverse but I think a lot of that was the water crossings.  Only 5 left for Monica's 48; only 1 left for my 3rd round.

Bonding

Monica is working on her 4000'ers and a Bonds traverse would give her 4 peaks in one big day hike.  We've been working on longer hikes and this trip is close to 20 miles so it would be a great test of our stamina and fitness. The forecast looked OK, with some possible thunderstorms in the afternoon that we'd have to look out for.  On the drive up Friday night we witnessed a car right in front of us veer off the left lane, hit the end of the guardrail, and explode in a fluffy of car parts before coming to halt on the shoulder.  As we approached the car to render aid a second car pulled up with an EMT and a nurse so we backed out and continued on our way as the police arrived.  Good way to start the weekend.

Tracy, Randy, and Quinn at Zealand Hut

Our plan was to get an early start so we could avoid the heat of the day for our climb.  We parked at the Zealand trailhead and were on the trail by 6:20 AM.  There was another group heading for the Bonds as well, and we quickly caught up with them and left them as we started to mix some easy jogging on the flat sections before the hut.  When we arrived we ran into Randy and Tracy (with Quinn) who were also headed for the Bonds.  Quinn was so happy to see us he followed us right into the hut, leading Randy where he wasn't headed.  Sorry about that. :)  We each drank two large glasses of water because water was going to be a concern all day and continued on.

Monica on Zeacliff

Up the Twinway towards Zeacliff in the cool of the morning.  We didn't see anyone  the whole way up, and had the views to ourselves.  I'd forgotten how flat the terrain is above the cliffs and we had some great discussions and enjoyed the quiet as well. Fairly quickly we found ourselves at the spur trail to Zealand, and then at the summit, our first of 4 for the day.  We took a break, had a snack, applied sunscreen, and got ready for the climb down and up to Guyot.  There were a few other hikers coming through now, either from the shelter or Galehead hut and it was beginning to get warm.

Crossing Guyot

At treeline by the summit of North Guyot we spotted a large group on South Guyot so we gave them a few minutes to pack up and move on.  They were a camp group that had stayed at Guyot Shelter and were headed for Ethan Pond, part of a large crowd (over 60 people) at the shelter/campsite Friday night.  We paused again briefly at the summit of South Guyot, pointed out our next destination of West Bond, and talked about whether we wanted to drop down to the water source.  We elected to conserve water and save the elevation and headed to West Bond.  We had the peak to ourselves again and took a well deserved rest.  The views were spectacular and the breeze felt great.  After a few minutes and some photos we headed back to the ridge.

Blueberries!

The trip up to Bond went quicker then we expected and we had another time to rest and take a bunch more photos of Bondcliff, and then the final push of the day.  The trip down to the col is the roughest rock of the trip, but the reward was lots and lots of blueberries along the way.  Monica went into summit fever mode and I followed along eventually, my hands stained blue.  After the full set of photos from Bondcliff we attempted to eat our very unappetizing lunch and failed.  We weren't very hungry but knew we needed some food so we ate what we could and finally packed up for the trip out.

The classic pose

From Bondcliff it's 9 miles out, mostly easy downhill and flat but 9 miles is still 9 miles.  There was no water at the first two stream crossings as expected, and we filled the extra bottle we had at the third crossing, but our purification tablets were the wrong ones that take 4 hours.  Oh well.  We ran the bottom of the Bondcliff trail, then started running out the Wilderness trail.  After the crossing at Franconia Brook Monica decided to run the rest of the way, I alternated walking and running due to a blister on my left heel.  About a mile remaining I ran out of water but grunted it out, arriving at the parking lot about 5 minutes behind Monica.

Running out on the Wilderness trail

After a wait for our car we hitched into Lincoln and grabbed a booth at the Common Man for beer, bad food, and good company.  It was a big successful day, setting the tone for future big trips.