Aspen – Moab – Fruita – San Francisco – Big Sur – SoCal – Las Vegas – Flagstaff – Telluride – Aspen

Photo by Dominic Grossman

Fifteen days and 3,175.7 miles after it started, Vision Quest 2012 came to a close on Friday when the Jeep and I pulled back in into Aspen on a typically glorious spring day.   Though I’m still a bit road weary, I could not be happier with the entire experience.  Zero car troubles, zero speeding tickets, millions of good memories, and many new friends.  It was a really special two weeks that I’ll remember fondly for many years.

Obviously, I had a major breakthrough at the Leona Divide 50 last Saturday.  My race report was published over at iRunFar last week, so please give it a read if you’re at all interested.  In thinking about the race over the past week, a couple things come to mind that I think are worth mentioning here.  For starters, Leona was definitely the first ultra I’ve raced where I have legitimately run every single step of the course.  Secondly, when I passed Jason Wolfe around mile 32, it was the first time that I’ve made a deliberate move in a race.  I took a risk with eighteen miles still to run, and luckily it worked out.  I’ve written before about my lack of a “killer instinct” in racing and I’ve been consciously trying to develop confidence in my ability to win.  As such, I think Leona was a quantum leap in my personal growth as a runner.  So much of what we do is mental and I think both these points will allow me to think differently about how I’ll approach future races.  Particularly, a little race I’ll be running back out in California in late June. Read the rest of this page »

The good news is I think I’m finally out of the woods on a nagging IT issue that has plagued me for over a month.  Knock on wood.  The pain originally surfaced during the tail end of Bandera training, when I started incorporating fast running into my routine with characteristic immoderation.  The thought of not racing Bandera, though smart, never entered my mind.  The emotional and financial investment I had already made to that run was far more real than the dull leg ache that dogged me.  I took a couple Ibuprofen before the race and didn’t think about my knee once throughout the day.

I’m still happy I ran Bandera, and I don’t think the IT issue affected my performance, but it clearly worsened and exacerbated the injury.  When I started running again a couple days later, it was clear that something was wrong.  As a result, I was basically forced to hang up the running shoes for close to four weeks.  This was my first real injury of any significance in nearly 20 years of athletic competition which, I realize, is pretty lucky.  Forced time off is a terrible mind game.  I’m so happy to have this issue for the most part behind me.

The stubbornness of this particular injury means that I have unfortunately ruled myself out for the Moab Red Hot 55k next weekend.  This, of course, is the bad news.  I’m bummed to miss this gem of a race but, as with most dark clouds, mine has a silver lining.  Instead of racing in Moab I’ll be traveling to Costa Rica at the end of March to race the Jungleman Marathon 60k.  This new development has supplied ample stoke to extinguish any lingering self pity relating to my knee.  My participation in the race came about thanks to my friend (and consummate badass) Ashley Arnold at TrailRunner.  She put me in touch with a gentleman named Matt Nelson, the President and Founder of Endurance Trust, who in turn put me in contact with the RD.  Needless to say, I was so happy to accept this opportunity. Read the rest of this page »

When looking back at 2011, a few things stand out as memorable lessons that I’ll carry into the future.  Here are a few thoughts:

Sportsmanship – Last February, the Leadville 100 closed registration in what was an unprecedented early sell out of the event.  Since I hadn’t had the opportunity to put my name in the hat, I was immediately struck with panic that I would not be allowed in.  I expressed my anxiety to pretty much anyone who would listen and was pretty resigned to the fact that I’d have to find a different late summer race to aim towards.  Just as I was beginning to accept that I would not run Leadville 2011, I got copied on an email string between Duncan Callahan and LT100 Registration Manager, Shannon Gibson.  Without my asking, the defending champion had reached out to the race organizers to secure me a special consideration entry into the race.  Duncan knew I’d be one of his main contenders and still made the unsolicited effort to get me in.  I was floored by this exhibition of class and sportsmanship.

Of course, I did run Leadville 2011 and managed to have what was probably the greatest race of my life.  Before the shotgun sounded though – when we were all nervously clustered at the start line – I had another very special exchange with Duncan that is one of my greatest memories from my short career in ultramarathon racing.  Wearing the #1 and #3 bibs respectively, Duncan and I hugged and he encouraged me to believe that I could win in a short but honest and deliberate pep talk.   As simple as it was, coming from the defending champion and a fellow favored competitor, it was quite memorable for me.  At the end of the day, these two examples are the perfect encapsulation of our running community as a whole.  Supportive, helpful, gracious, and beautiful.

Heart – I never ran competitively growing up.  Since I’ve never been coached, my evolution as an athlete has been an intensely personal learning experience.  Everyday I run by feel and everyday I get to know myself a little more acutely.  One thing that has recently caught my full attention is the feeling of strength or weakness in my physical heart.  In ultra racing, muscle fatigue is all too familiar.  In the hours and days that follow a race, you often hear endless complaints about painful quads, hammies, feet, etc. without much mention of  deeper, more internal fatigue.  I’ve found that my heart is an incredible indicator of my body’s relative health during training, racing, and recovery.  I’ve never worn a pulse monitor or even measured my resting heart rate, but I feel I’ve developed a vivid awareness of my heart and what it’s prepared to handle.  I’ve come to allow this awareness to become the coach I’ve never had, and use it to guide my training everyday.  Of course, one’s heart rate is intimately correlated with breathing, so I’ve also been experimenting with my breathing when the perceived effort of my heart seems to be at an imbalance with my pace.  Training with awareness to those small details has brought my body and mind into an unprecedented mutual understanding. Read the rest of this page »