The New Year

In a continuation of my offseason, I've been hanging out in Moab. Since I've gotten here I've gotten in a few 10-15 mile runs on my favorite trails and everything feels really good. The weather is great, my body feels great and it's really nice to see so many old friends. Still, the year to come is weighing heavily on me and demanding some decisions.

I'm excited to continue with Montrail for another year. They are a good company who I'm proud to support and represent. Montrail sponsored me before I'd done just about anything noteworthy, so I'm proud to be able to continue working with them after the modest successes I've had. As we move into the future they continue to build up an incredible line of high performance shoes that gets better every year. As someone who beats the living shit out of my gear on a daily basis, I'm happy to say that Montrail can keep up with the abuse of trail running.

I've also tentatively decided on a racing schedule for the next year. Check it out:

Feb. 19 - Red Hot 50k
This race is in my hometown. I've done it the past two years in a row and I intend to continue doing it for a long time to come. Though my fitness will certainly not be at its best due to the nature of such an early season race, I love running in the backcountry of Moab. Also, it's always fun to invite everyone over to my house for a big dinner and bonfire. You're invited.

March 5 - Nueces 50 mile Endurance Run (aka USATF 50 mile trail championships)
I'm going to run this race for the simple fact that it's the national championships and I run for money and titles. I'm being sarcastic, but you can go ahead and take it seriously. Do it - I dare you. Also, it's a race I've never run in a place I've never been, both of which seem like good reasons to give it a shot.

Springtime - The White Rim Trail
This is a 100 mile jeep trail outside of Moab that's been run for speed a few times. Sometime in late March/early April I'm most likely going to come out and run it in one push. This is because I need to get another 100 mile experience, but I don't want to race that long so early in the season. So I'm going to recruit some friends and come out and figure out how to run for like 20 hours.

May 7 - Miwok 100k
Miwok is super competitive and therefore worth the trip out there. It's an ultra cup race with a lot of history and a deep field, so I'm really psyched for the opportunity to come out and compete with everyone. This will also be my first try at the 100k distance.

July 8 - Hardrock
Assuming I get in, of course, I'm going to focus 100% of my energy on Hardrock. After school gets out in May I'm going to move to Telluride and run uphill for a month and a half to try to build power. Then, if all goes well, I'll run the one race I've wanted to do more than any other since I first discovered ultras. Hardrock is the one.

August 26 - Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB)
In July/August of 2009 I spent a month traveling with a friend through Europe. Without a doubt, my favorite place we traveled was Chamonix, France. The town and the mountains create an incredible feeling of excitement and possibility that is not found in America. While Colorado mountain towns have histories of mining, Chamonix has a history of mountaineering, and this pervades the spirit of the entire area. The mountains and their glaciers are more stunning than any I've ever seen before. I basically can't ever say how amazing Chamonix was, and that's why I'm so excited to go out there this summer and run the super competitive 100 miles around Mont Blanc.

After that my schedule is unclear. TNF Endurance Championships are a possibility again, as are a few races in the fall, but these are not certain. I'm going to focus on my training through UTMB and worry about what comes after as that time gets nearer. But this series of races is going to be a lot of fun. I can't wait for the season to start.

Ultramarathons are getting bigger and more popular every year. As the sport continues to grow I find the disparity between my solitary training and high-profile racing growing greater all the time. This growth carries the possibility of bad effects, but so far the influx of money and popularity has been only good, at least as far as I can tell. Even if all this somehow ruined the sport or at least diluted its value, I'm in no position to complain since I happily accept support from my sponsors and allow myself to be featured periodically in the media. But I do these things because I see them as good things that help the sport survive and allow its participants to make money doing something really cool. So I'm looking forward to moving into the new year and helping the sport grow even more than it already has.

The Offseason

I just got back from a 14 mile run at Horsetooth in the unseasonally warm temperatures we've been experiencing lately, and I feel great! Since the race I've gotten in three short to medium distance runs and they've all felt really good. Mostly this can be attributed to the five days off after the race, but also to the fact that since I'm no longer training, running isn't an obligation. It's fun and unhurried. I can go out and enjoy myself without having to worry about preparing for a race.

By the end of my training for the TNF 50 I was pretty burnt out. Training takes over life pretty easily, and finding the time to do things beside running (like, you know, studying) is hard when running routinely takes two or three hours per day, or more. Obviously it's possible to do both, but I'm not exactly motivated in school, so too often I'd find myself reading novels or looking at the internet while my schoolbooks lay idle. But more than that, I was getting sick of the constant grind of training. For a race as important as the TNF 50, every workout counts, and knowing this I gave it 100% of my energy. This left little time for friends or other fun things, like climbing, that I wanted to do but just didn't have the time. Don't misinterpret the message here: I love training and would far rather go on a long adventure Saturday morning that get drunk Friday night, but after nearly a year of training I just was ready for a break. Or, I should say I am ready for a break, since I'm certainly enjoying one right now.

Taking time off is important because it keeps our minds and our bodies fresh. It also separates (for me) the training done during one year from the next, and therefore provides a starting and ending point for each season. A break allows us to relax in comfort and relative ease of exercise before beginning the next year's workouts. I love being able to sit on the couch with a hot chocolate on a Saturday and read a book without worrying about when/where/how long I will run that day. Taking time off provides a pause in our training for us to reflect on other parts of life too often ignored in the face of other priorities, and lends an importance to the training we do during the rest of the year through reflection.

But even though it's my offseason, I still go out for runs. I ran today where I spent most of my long runs preparing for the race, and the contrast between my energy levels today and those of my training period were highly noticeable. I felt fantastic! No lingering fatigue in these legs; just a lot of energy that needed to be spent. I mean, we have to work out somehow right? How do other people work out? In the gym? No way, I'll stick to running. But only when I feel like it, because why run if I don't want to?

TNF 50

When most college kids have a birthday they celebrate by getting drunk with their friends. Well, I celebrate by running 50 miles with my friends. But not just any 50 miles - these were the most competitive 50 miles of my life and they took place in the beautiful Marin headlands north of San Francisco. This was the second birthday in a row that I've spent running hard in Northern California, and I am confident that they have been the best birthdays of my life. I'm doing what I love with a lot of cool people - why would I want anything else?

The intensity of that race was something I've never experienced before. For at least ten miles the front pack consisted of a ridiculous number of people all jostling and competing to stay on the trail and keep up. I was among the front because my goal from the beginning was to stay with the leaders as long as possible. Actually, my goal was to stay with Geoff as long as possible, since the leaders in the beginning of any race are almost certain to go too fast. I knew Geoff would race fast and smart and would therefore be the person to follow. And he's a cool guy to talk with, which makes the miles go by easier.

By the climb up to Pantoll, which is roughly miles 13-19, the front pack had consolidated into a group of Geoff, Michael Owen, Matt Flaherty, Dave Mackey, myself and a few other runners who I didn't know. Some Salomon guys were with us, and I think they were Thomas Lorblanchet and Miguel Heras. We all ran together up the mellow switchbacks and talked the whole way. Directly behind us were long lines of strong runners all working to keep us in sight, and by the top many of them had caught up. So we came into Bootjack aid station the first time in a pretty large pack. But some people stopped in the aid station, which allowed those of us with crews to get a little bit ahead. Thus from mile 19 emerged about six runners all moving very fast together and separated from the next group by a buffer of about a minute.

Dave, Geoff, Matt, myself, Lorblanchet and Heras all kept a super strong pace on the out and back section. This part is very high and exposed along the side of a hill, with fantastic views of the beach below. Here we encountered some rain for the first time, and a pretty steady amount of wind. But we kept moving really fast. Coming back was probably one of my least favorite sections of the course, the only reason being that we have to pass a lot of people on a very small trail on a very steep hillside. Everybody went out of their way to accomodate us in the front, for which I'm super thankful, but it's still not an easy task, and a few times I slipped off the trail a bit and had to stagger back into place. From the end of the out and back to the Stinson Beach aid station is a very long downhill, and this gave my legs a chance to rest while still keeping a good pace going. Heras and others fell back a bit at this point, which left Dave, Geoff and I together in the front.

At the aid station some people paused to fill their bottles, but mine was still mostly full so I just kept moving through with Geoff. But right out of the aid he stopped to pee and all of a sudden I was leading the race. I had a moment of mental panic before regrouping and just telling myself to run my own race and let them catch back up in time. But as I got further and further away I noticed that nobody was catching up, and my confidence grew. The trail at this time climbed about 1800 feet up Steep Ravine with steps, log bridges and a ten foot ladder. Best of all, this whole climb passes through a Redwood forest. About fifteen minutes later Geoff caught me but didn't pass, and we talked for the rest of the climb. At the top we say Topher and Kim Gaylord and several other friends all cheering us on, and this was a major morale booster. Geoff and I emerged into Pantoll and cruised the extra mile or so to Bootjack aid station feeling pretty good in the front.

By this point I hadn't eaten since the out and back section, which was about ten miles back. So on the descent (the whole course was either a climb or descent. From Bootjack we ran way down, then a little up, then down more, and then way up, and then way down again. Then we only had two more big climbs to complete) I ate two gels to recover, but I still began feeling pretty tired. On the downhills I felt invincible, but climbing had become a nearly agonizing chore. Geoff led the way and I managed to keep up for several more miles, but on a small climb before Muir Beach aid station he finally pulled a little ahead of me. But what really did me in was the climb out of Muir Beach, which is something like 900 feet and STEEP. It was also muddy, but that's no excuse for the fact that I was just completely trashed from 40 miles of hard racing and couldn't move fast enough. I ran most of it, but the pace was pathetic, and included more walking than I'm willing to admit. As I finally crawled over the top and attempted to revive some kind of downhill stride, Miguel Heras came charging past me. He was in the zone and absolutely flying - I could hardly believe he was in the same race. "Well, there goes $4000," I thought, "Maybe I can maintain my $1000." But it was not to be. A little further down towards the final aid station Dave Mackey cruised past me with a word of encouragement, and disappeared.

From this point on I just worked to maintain my position. From Tennessee Valley aid station to the finish is about five miles, with 1.3 of easy uphill and the rest either down or flat. As embarrassing as this is, I totally walked at least half of the final climb, and ate two gels and drank lots of water. I was absolutely finished. From the top I just tapped into the autopilot I've developed from running so many long races, and managed to squeeze in a finish just over seven hours, utterly tapped. It was a good feeling, and a good finish. And congratulations to everyone ahead of me: you all ran incredibly well and deserved what you earned. Especially Miguel Heras, who fell off the pace in the middle but managed to come back at the end for a truly amazing victory.

I am in no way disappointed in myself for this weekend. The race was a good learning experience and taught me a lot of things about running up front, eating enough, training right and being smart. I'm also happy to know that I have the ability to compete at the highest level of the sport, which gives me a lot of confidence for the future. The North Face 50 is a really stellar race not only for the terrain and aesthetic beauty of the course, but also for the incredible amount of talent that is drawn by the prize money. Granted, $10,000 would have been a really kickass birthday present, but I learned a lot more about how to compete by getting fourth than I would have with a win. And to make things really great, just about everybody I know was there to celebrate with me. Even my parents managed to make the race on their way to Hawaii, which was really special. This weekend wouldn't have been what it was without the people.

I'll be back to Marin soon enough for another try.

A lesson...and my birthday!

The NF Endurance Challenge yesterday in Marin was definitely the most exciting race of my life. That was a level of competition at which I have never competed before and the result was a pretty spectacular explosion. I gave it everything I had and ran in the front for the first 38 miles, but just wasn't strong enough to keep going to the end. So it's somewhat disappointing, but overall I'm very pleased with the race and what I learned about myself and about competing. In the future I'll be better.

Expect a longer race report in the future. This is just a short teaser to the doubtless enthralling piece of literature chronicling yesterday's race that I'll be sure to post here sometime in the next few days. Today is my birthday, so I'm definitely not going out of my way to do any work. Instead, I'm going to anxiously sit here in the airport and hope the rain doesn't delay or cancel my flight. For more information on the race refer to www.irunfar.com and check back here soon for my perspective.

A Deep Breath

This is one of the most exciting parts of a race - the night before. This is when the suspense builds up to a point from which all the results will emerge. Right now anything is possible. We're standing on the edge of the bridge, with the water rushing below, and the fear and excitement and anticipation are all coming to a head. My heart is beating in my ears as the void below beckons toward the unknown. It's all very metaphorical and deep.

I'm ready to race. I can't wait to get out there tomorrow and run as hard as possible. This is going to be the most exciting race of my life and what happens on the course tomorrow will be nothing less than amazing. So I'll take a deep breath and savor the expectation of what's to come, and in six hours get up and head off to the start. Good luck to everyone out there tomorrow.