Sean O'Brien 100k


Jeff Pace, Tiffany Trevers, and Bull Dozier at Quicksilver


I was apprehensive about running a challenging 100k just 2 weeks after running 200+ miles at Icarus Florida Ultrafest. In the end this turned out to be an advantage.



Jeff Pace, Jeff Clowers, Tiffany Trevers and Paul King
at Quicksilver.
Since both of my 72-hour races this year were flat, I hadn't been doing any hill training. One week after Icarus and a week before SOB 100k I tested out my legs at Quicksilver with Jeff Pace and a few other members of Quicksilver Running Club. Jeff and the gang were attacking some Strava segments so I went along for the ride. It turned out to be a hilly 17-mile interval training session, and I felt fantastic (much to my surprise). But 62.2 miles is a different story so I proceeded with caution.


Coming from a business trip to San Diego, I woke up at 1:30am to drive up to Malibu for the 5am start. This definitely clocks in as the earliest I've ever gotten up for a race. But it was fine because I knocked myself out with some melatonin at 7pm the night before. 



Waiting for 5am so we can get moving
At the race site I met up fellow bay area runners Josam Mulinyawe (100k) and Nate Dunn (50M) as well as Redding runner Josh Ritter (100k). Josam and Josh and I all went out together in the dark of the morning at a relaxed pace, expecting an incredibly difficult course that would push us close to the cutoffs. Race Director Keira Henninger had just announced that anyone could drop down to 50M or 50k at any time in the race, almost like she didn't want people to attempt the 100k. Going out slowly seemed prudent.



The three of us reached the river crossing at the 2 mile mark in the dark (no dry shoes allowed in this race) and proceeded up the first major climb. While power hiking up the hill, the moonlight gave way to sunrise and we were treated with majestic views of rocks, mountains, and highways down below us, all glazed with early morning hues of orange. Cool weather and clear skies above hinted at a wonderful day to come. Josam snapped some nice photos of the scenery.


Looking down over a highway, glad to be up here
instead of down there in a car.



At mile 13 I stopped at my drop bag to change socks and dig all the sand from the 2-mile river crossing out of my shoes. Josam and Josh pushed ahead. I managed to catch back up with them on the following climb, the second big one of the race. Josh's achilles tendon was hurting on climbs; he usually powers up them much faster than I do. 




Heading down to the Pacific Ocean



At the top of the climb, we began the largest descent of the race, a monster quad killer that drops almost 2500 feet down toward the Pacific over 5 miles of rocky fire road. I love rocky downhills so I attacked it with reckless abandon, hoping my quads would hold out. I lost Josh and Josam and caught up with Andrea Kooiman in this section. 


Bull Dozier (me)
Josam Mulinyawe
Josh Ritter
















Of course, in ultrarunning what goes down must come back up. The ascent ranged from mile 23 to 33 with a steep 1000 foot drop stuck in the middle. This section broke people. Before this the course seemed reasonable and runnable, even the uphills. By mile 33 we all realized the reality of the situation and started thinking about Keira's pre-race offer to drop down at any time. How tempting it seemed as I gobbled salty food and stretched my hamstrings at the aid station at the top of that climb.





Something else happened at that point: the fog rolled in and the beautiful vistas were replaced by towers of rock appearing suddenly in the mist. By the top of that climb I heard someone say "it's no longer drizzle; now it's rain".  It still felt like drizzle to me, but regardless it was the last time my shirt was dry.





The next 11 miles were nice, mostly rolling hills. My hamstrings felt better after stretching and I felt great on the flats. As I told Nate and Josh later, it seemed that I had infinite endurance on the flat sections after running 400 miles of them already this year.


After this "easy" part I came up on mile 43. This is where the 100k runners have the choice to turn left into the dense fog to do an out-and-back with a huge descent and subsequent climb, or tuck tail and turn right, cutting it down to a 50 miler. Many people made the latter choice, but a surprising percentage turned left. The last person they allowed to go on for 100k is fellow (former) bay area runner with his iconic white/pink baseball cap, Sean Nakamura.


The cool part about a long out-and-back late in a long race is that you get to see all your friends, whether they are in front or behind you. The bad part is that every step you take is one you have to take again on the way back. And when you come down almost 2000 feet in 3 miles on the way out at mile 44, you know what's coming a few miles later.



Robert Whited
Tyler Garewal at the finish line
My quads were still doing well so I hit this section pretty hard. On the way down I saw Robert Whited hauling ass uphill. This guy is the reason they say "50 is the new 30". He ended up finishing the 100k in 11:31. A little bit later I made eye contact with Tyler Garewal as he started the ascent, but neither of us remembered one another's name in time to say hi. But you know that look when you see someone and you know you know them and you know they know you but ... yeah, anyway, he kicked ass as well, beating the 12 hour mark by a couple of minutes.


So here's where everything fell apart for me. Well, sort of. The problem started a few miles back when I ate too much real food and started feeling sick. When I'm pushing myself, I don't get blood flow to my stomach and digestion turns off. I have to stick to pre-digested food like simple gels. But I hadn't in this race so I had to stop eating completely. By the bottom of the hill in the out-and-back, I felt like I had been descending for hours and hours. "Perceived effort distortion" kicked in big time and every mile felt like two, even on the downhill.  I expected the aid station to be at the bottom of the hill but I was wrong. Very wrong.


Where is that blasted aid station?


Earlier I felt like I had infinite endurance on the flats. That was gone. I had to go another 3 miles to find the aid station. It was muddy and miserable and my legs ached. I kicked myself for forgetting to bring some Aleve. The course passes right through a M.A.S.H. film site complete with old jeeps, so that brought my spirits up for a good 200 meters. At one point I hit a slippery sloped surface above a creek and started sliding sideways. I had to use a tree to keep myself from plunging into the water. I cut my wrist grabbing onto it. I started thinking about dropping at the 50-mile aid station ahead.



Kathryn Schjei by the least rusty M.A.S.H. jeep

 Speaking of which, I kept asking people how far it was to the aid station. I'd ask, then run about a mile, then ask again. Three people in a row answered "about 1 more mile". I almost punched the third guy who said that. Luckily he was wrong and I finally made it there, promptly sitting down on the nearest dry surface I could find and refusing to move. My hamstrings throbbed and ached, I was hungry and soaking wet, and I had just discovered that my waistline was chafed raw where my hip bones poke out in the back. Ugh.



Sean O'Brien at the Bulldog aid station with
me sitting in the background. Photo by Ric Munoz.
One of my favorite pieces of advice to give ultrarunners who are getting ready for their first 50 or 100 is that you are going to have horrible lows, but they will pass. They always pass. Now it was my turn to listen to that advice, so I found anything I could eat while resting my legs. I had to beg for some chips from the aid station workers since it was a water-only stop. I put on the dry long sleeve shirt I had in my pack and topped off my hydration pack. Runners that I had passed on the way down (including the course designer and race namesake, Sean O'Brien), came and went while I watched.


I have no idea how long I sat there, perhaps 15 or 20 minutes. But eventually I got bored and decided that I would just walk out the last half marathon if I had to. I don't like quitting, and I had plenty of time. For a water-only stop, there were a lot of people there and they gave me a wonderful sendoff full of cheering and clapping. It really brightened my spirits. But then the chafing stung and I realized I was carrying way too much water on my back (70 full ounces) and I discovered the trail had become even nastier since I passed on the way out. I walked carefully over the section where I almost fell earlier.




I grumbled and cursed and bitched and whined. But then Josam came by. I was so happy to see him close behind me doing well. I had been wondering which of my friends would take the easy way out and turn right at mile 43. I figured Josh would have to given his history of injured achilles. Anyway, seeing Josam perked me up a bit. If I didn't get moving he was going to catch me! Nothing like trying to beat your friends to get you moving. I sucked up a bunch of water and spit it out to lighten my pack and stepped up my speed a bit.
This was taken earlier in the day

The muddy climb is where it got interesting. There was no way to prevent the mud from sticking to your shoes. You simply had to carry it up the hill with you. You could rub it off on a rock, but 10 steps later it was back. Nothing like carrying weights on your shoes on a huge climb at mile 53 to bring you down. But it had the opposite effect on me. I laughed at the silliness of it. Andrea and Josh came down the hill soon and seeing them out there fighting the same fight turned me around. If Josh could brave this battle with his achilles hurting, who was I to complain?


Before long I found myself actually running uphill. I was down to single digits remaining in the race and it was the last real climb. No sense saving anything now! I caught back up to Sean O'Brien and chatted with him for a bit. I made sure he knew how much I liked the out-and-back. I also asked him if he thought we could finish before dark; he didn't think so.


Nate Dunn earlier in the day
I passed by the final aid station and began the last long descent. I caught up to Nate Dunn and ran with him for a while. We pushed hard up the rolling hills. Nate's goal was to finish the 50-miler in under 12 hours, and he mentioned that it was still within range to make it. I don't wear a watch when I run, but since I started an hour earlier it meant I had a chance to finish sub-13. My PR for a trail 100k is 13:14 at Miwok. 

I was invigorated by the chance to set a personal best on a tough course just 2 weeks after running 200 miles at Icarus. When we hit the steeper downhills I punched it into overdrive, all the pain fading away as endorphins flooded my bloodstream. 

This is why I run. The air rushing by as I fly down the hill, pain free and feeling light as a feather. I chose a path down the mountain, dodging rocks and roots and runners. I entered a zone where my subconscious chooses my footsteps. Sub 13 was going to be mine. 

Blue = Training miles, Purple = SOB 100k, Magenta = 200 mile races.

Jeff Pace coming in to the 50k finish earlier in the day
I almost made a few wrong turns in the fog, and I almost fell a few times when I lost traction on the muddy downhills, but nothing was going to stop me. I powered up the last uphill in the final mile and came through the finish line, sopping wet and happy as a lark, seeing a 12 in the hour position on the clock. I bent over with my arms on my legs and almost cried. Almost. I tend to cry when I've worked hard in a long ultra. But I guess it wasn't quite enough pain this time.


Looking back, starting the race slowly and without pressure was a huge benefit. I even managed to negative split the 100k. My average pace improved by a few seconds between mile 36 and 62.2, even though I took a long break in the latter portion. When I think about my best races ever, they all have this in common. I started out without any goals or expectations, just wanting to enjoy the day.


This seems like a good plan for all the 200s this year.
Here's a video of my post race chat with Victor Ballesteros.  I came through at the 00:56:00 mark in the video, or 12:46:20 on the race clock.


Sean Nakamura, Kathryn Schjei, and Greg Durbin
after almost 16 hours on the trails
I hung out at the finish line party watching the rest of the gang come in. Everyone made it! Josam missed his 100k PR by just 12 seconds. Nate and Andrea and Josh streamed in one after another. Even Sean Nakamura, who beat the cutoff at mile 43 by less than 2 minutes (if I recall correctly), finished the race under the final cutoff, crossing the line with a couple of friends who shared some foggy off-course adventures in the night.


The back of the pack (mostly 50k and 50M runners) were averaging 4-5 hours to run the last 6 miles of the race. This is insane, but tells you something about the deteriorating trail conditions out there in the drizzle and fog. Steep downhills in mud that has been smoothed out by the passing of many shoes before you is not easy to navigate in daylight, much less the dark. Hats off to those folks for getting it done. I bet their legs are even more sore than mine.


Josam, Nate, Josh, and Andrew Guitarte heading home after an epic road trip


All photos courtesy of the pictured friends and Louis Kwan.

Getting Ready for Icarus


I'm terrified of Icarus Florida Ultrafest. I signed up for this race mainly to pad my stats (more 200s). The shin muscle injury from ATY is not fully healed, but I've been able to run up to 10 miles without pain so I decided the trip is a go. I'm 100% certain it's going to start hurting at Icarus; I just don't know when.

If it hits before 100 miles, I'm in trouble. Hobbling over 100 miles would not be fun.

The weather forecast has cooled off a bit. There's a strong chance of rain. Unlike the rain which turned to snow at Across-the-Years, this rain might even be warm. My plan is to prepare for everything, but at least I won't need quite as much cold weather gear this time.

I'll bring a tent to camp out during the race, but I'll stay at a cheap hotel before and after. I'm packing sleeping pills for the nights before the race and 5-Hour-Energy for that 3-5am lull. I've been off caffeine for several days to maximize its effect during the race. I'll only use it at night.

The part I'm dreading is that the course is paved. All of it. It's a 1km paved loop in a park, mostly shaded. The longest I've ever run on pavement in a day is about 40 miles at Crissy Field (San Francisco) at one of those 24 hour races. And it hurt. So doing 5 times that could be interesting. Here's are some photos of the course lifted from google image search:






My training between Across-the-Years has been minimal. It was mainly recovery training trying to get the shin muscle loosened up and healed. Those last couple of runs (9.2 and 3.7) were the only times I actually ran since ATY. But they felt good.


So in 2 days I'm flying out and the race starts in 3. I'm going to give it my best.

Stories from Across the Years 2014/15

Zombies

In these multi-day events, a normal person passing by might think the world has been taken over by the undead. There are a bunch of people with eyes half closed ambling around in wavy paths, and a few folks running away from them.

Some of us are immune from the zombie walk. This includes winner of this year's 6-day David Johnston and myself. But it looks like so much fun that once in a while we close our eyes and try to walk in a straight line just to feel like we belong. Lame! It's the zombie walkers who are truly pushing the limits of their bodies.
 

Greg Ellis

Greg made it 308.6 miles in the 6-day event. He got this far by moving along both while awake and asleep. Twice he was witnessed making a wrong turn and almost walking straight into a fence before snapping back to consciousness and looking around confused, trying to figure out if this was real or if he was still stuck in a nightmare about being forced to walk in circles for 6 days. Or perhaps both.

Greg had knee surgery earlier in the year and was told to take it easy. I guess walking in your sleep is his definition of easy.

Christian

Second place finisher in the 6 day with over 540 miles, Christian also went all night with very little sleep. At one point he finally gave in to the sandman and went to lie down in the tent. Not wanting to lose valuable time zombie walking, he tried to set his phone's alarm to wake him up in 2 hours.

But he waited too long to rest because his cold fingers were no longer working correctly and he kept dropping the phone. He eventually figured out he could set the 15-minute timer without dropping the phone, so he used that to wake himself up in 15 minutes to set the alarm.


There are so many more stories but I'm going to post this now because it's been sitting here for a week...

Advice For Running Tahoe 200

Here's my sage advice for successfully completing the Tahoe 200 Mile Endurance Run:
  • Be the first one up the first hill at Homewood. Everyone else will lose hope and go really slow from then on.
  • -
  • Run as fast you can on the Rubicon Jeep Trail. You're less likely to slip if you're gliding across the rocks like a gazelle.
  • -
  • Don't take very much food with you during the 20 mile sections between aid stations. It'll force you to burn fat which will make you lose weight, which will mean less weight to carry the rest of the race.
  • -
  • When you sleep, try to sleep right next to someone who claps loudly every time a runner comes through. It'll keep your sleeping to a minimum to get you back out sooner.
  • -
  • When you see a bear, try to sneak up on it and yell loudly when you get close to scare the crap out of it. You want to be hunting them, not have them hunting you.
  • -
  • Learn to pee while running. It'll save precious seconds off your time, which will come in handy if you finish with 3 seconds left to spare on the 100 hour cutoff.
  • -
  • Try to lose your pacers. It might destroy your legs, but they'll think you're amazing for being able to outrun them with 130 miles on your legs.
  • -
  • Never change clothes. The built up stench will scare away bears and mountain lions, and possibly other runners.
  • -
  • Carry a portable satellite dish and gas-powered generator so you can blog about your adventure at every mile mark.
  • -
  • Always keep in mind how many miles are left. It doesn't do you any good to focus on the next aid station. Think about the whole journey.

The Mental Hurdles of 200 Miles



[This post is copied directly from my Facebook wall]
 

Now that I've done 200 miles at both extremes - mountainous and pancake flat, I've learned a little something about what it takes to conquer the mental hurdles of such a distance. As I kept telling Tom Polen during ATY, I had to stop myself from thinking about the number 200. I didn't let myself dwell on that number until I was within striking distance, which for me is a 50k.

 
At Tahoe 200 it was easy to focus on the next aid station because they were so far apart. You didn't really have a choice. Just get there and take a break and don't leave until you feel up for the next 15-20 mile section.

At ATY there was an aid station every half mile. So I had to make smaller goals. For most of the race I broke in up into 3 hour windows. I would run a minimum of 1 lap (1.05 miles) every 15 minutes, making sure to get to 10 in 2.5 hours. Then I'd use the rest of the 3 hours to eat, stretch, roll, socialize, and rest my legs.

If I felt good the 10 miles and rest break would be shorter than 3 hours and I'd start again, but only once I felt I had another 10 miles in me. I would not eat during those 10 miles, except maybe a carb-based snack halfway through. This prevented me from overeating and having stomach issues.

So I was never thinking about 200. It was just 70, 80, 90, etc. As I got tired each day, I could no longer make it 10 miles between breaks, so I lowered it to 8. Then 5. Once I could only make it 5 miles, it was time for a longer rest in the rental SUV with my legs elevated. 3-4 hours off my feet would do the trick and I was back up to 10 miles between breaks. During those 3-4 hours I barely slept, but resting my legs did the trick.

I felt it was pretty easy to make it to 170 miles by using small intermediate goals. Unfortunately at mile 178 my right shin muscle started hurting badly and eventually something snapped when I stepped in a rut while getting something out of the back of the SUV. The EMT iced my shin and based on advice from veteran ultra-distance runner Vikena Yutz, we decided that I should try to jog 3 laps (walking was too painful but running worked), then come back to ice again.

For the first 178 miles, I had always walked 4 small sections of every single lap (everything paved plus a little more). I hated not getting those little breaks. I started to worry that running would strain it further and I wouldn't make it to 200. I switched over to limp-walking with my right leg out at a 45-degree angle. I cried for a lap, wallowing in self pity.

But then I remembered how I got that far - small goals. So I decided to walk until 5pm, which was a few hours away. Eventually I discovered I could arch up my toes and walk almost normally. I set goals of walking 5 miles between breaks. This did the trick. By 10pm I had made it to 190 miles. I decided to try running again, and by using the same arched-toe trick I was able to jog again.

I finally hit 200 miles at 1am, and was riding such a huge high that I cruised on to 206 miles by 3am. Normally 6 miles in 2 hours is pretty pathetic, but at this point it felt lightning fast.

Whatever distance you're running, whatever your goals are for the year, set some intermediate goals and you'll find yourself in striking distance of the big one before you know it.

Happy Trails,

Kent

Ups and Downs on a Flat Course

I don't know anyone who has ever run 50 or more miles without having some highs and lows. Of course I had my share at ATY (Across the Years) 72-hour. I loved the cold weather and was disappointed that I missed the snow on the first night. My stomach did great, which was a result of disciplined eating (less). 

This was my bed during ATY
My biggest problem was a poor lacing job. It caused me to arch up my toes the first 50 miles, putting strain on my calves and lower shin muscles. By mile 50 I had to go lie down for a few hours to relieve the pain. I fixed the laces before continuing and was able to make it to mile 178 before the shin pain came back in a big way on the right side and I could no longer walk.

My second 200-mile buckle
After limping a couple of miles, and maybe crying a little (there were no witnesses this time), I found that if I arched my toes up (ironically the same thing that caused the problem in the first place), it didn't hurt. Before long I hit 200 and kept going until I hit 206, one more than the other 72-hour runners who had finished the prior 2 days and stopped a few miles past 200. 
Tom Polen went on to run 4 more laps in the final 45 minutes
I went to bed tied with Geoff Foote at mile 206. He had finished the night before and I kept teasing him that no matter how many miles he did, I would do one more the following night. So after sleeping I came back out and hobbled a final lap with Tom Polen to keep my promise.

That's the short version. The long version is boring. It's not really the running that makes these events worthwhile, it's the people. I met some great folks and shared laps with some amazing runners. I'll write about them in another post.

My daily mileage was roughly 84/69/54, which is very close to the other folks who did similar mileage. I think that if you're going for 200 in a 72-hour for the first time, the 80/70/50 plan is probably ideal. It takes advantage of your freshness the first day and gives you some wiggle room at the end when things go wrong, which they will.

These 3 pairs of Altra Olympus were the only shoes I wore.
The pair on the left is laced badly, though it's hard to tell.
And now for some product placements. I wore Altra Olympus and Injinji toe-socks the entire time. I ended the race with zero blisters. Zero foot pain. Zero lost toenails. I tried 5-Hour Energy for the first time ever, and it had some cool effects which helped me get through the lowest part of the night. If you want to feel like dancing in the street at 4am, try it out some time. Results may vary.
Nice sunset taking off from PHX on the way home. I'll be back to visit these mountains later this year.

(SH!!!) It Just Got Real


Don't tell anyone. I just signed up for a bunch of 200 milers in 2015. Exactly half of the total I want to do. Registration for 4 of them hasn't opened yet, and I need to find a 10th somewhere.


I'm still looking for the right charity to represent. One of my contacts in the Santa Clara County foster system provided me with a short list of local organizations:



Unity Care – has group homes for youth, outpatient therapy services,  intensive in-home behavioral services and services/support for foster-adopt parents

Help One Child – ministry that supports foster and adoptive parents with trainings, camp for foster/adopt children

Catholic Charities – supports bio relatives with children related to them that are the foster system.

I also tried signing up at the Guinness World Records website but it has been out of service for over a week now.  It's too late for ATY anyway.


Race Calendar


You might have noticed that I am also signed up for Sean O'Brien 100k, Hardrock 100, and also Western States 100.  I'm not planning on entering many more races in 2015.  I don't think I'll have the legs for it.

Anyway, my chances of getting in the Hardrock lottery are about 2.3%.  As for States, it's around 17%.  I am pretty confident I don't have to worry about getting in. I'll find out tomorrow for both.


New Shoes


If I'm going to attempt to run 2000 miles in races in 2015, I'm going to go through a bunch of shoes.  I kicked off the shopping season by getting another 3 identical pairs of Altra Olympus in my favorite cool color.

Below, you can see every pair of Altras I've ever owned. The Lone Peaks (red) were my first Altras, and I quickly fell in love them. When Altra came out with the Olympus, it was a good day for ultrarunners everywhere. Finally a highly cushioned shoe with a wide toe box.  Like the Lone Peaks, they are zero drop. Since I started wearing zero drop shoes, I have not had any foot or knee injuries.

The bottom row of blue Altra Olympus have served me well.  They all have more than 500 miles on them.  Most of the 2000 miles I ran in 2014 was in these.


Other Gear


I want to mention some of the other gear I plan to use to get through all these races. The only socks I wear are Injinji Toe Socks. I rarely get blisters, even in 100 mile races. I don't lube my toes, powder them, or anything else. I just wear thin Injinji socks that go over each toe individually. It gets the job done without much fuss.

My favorite pack right now is the Ultimate Direction PB Adventure Vest 2.0. I wore one in Tahoe 200 and it was perfect. The carrying capacity is large enough to handle 110oz of water while still having room to carry a few layers, some emergency gear, and the usual morsels of food, salt, lip balm, etc.

To keep out the detritus and take advantage of the velcro flap on the Altra shoes, I use Dirty Girl Gaiters. What can I say? I love my dirty girls.

My favorite long race foods that never make me sick are applesauce, fruit cups, and the PROBAR Meal in any fruit flavor. I'm happy when the race carries Gatorade, Gu Brew, or pretty much any electrolyte drink aside from Heed. Many folks love Heed, but for some of us it has a very unpleasant aftertaste which induces a gag reflex. Hence, last year's winner of the Across The Year's 6-Day race nicknamed that drink "Heave". Good nickname, Joe.

I used to be a fan of Island Boost drink packets, but too many of them burst in my pack, pockets and pouches. You can only handle being covered in sticky liquid for hours on end so many times.

I also used to be a fan of Hokas, but my feet widened and they no longer fit. It was a sad day when I realized my feet don't fit in ANY of the Hoka models. Luckily Altra came out with the Olympus just a few months later.

Race Links


Want to sign up for any of these races in 2015? Here are the links:

Arizona 200 and Bigfoot 200 are brand new races in 2015.
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