Training Log Archive: Trav

more back and shoulders.

With the big 10k coming, I thought I'd reprise a bit of K2 training. 5 times around the horn. The 5th nearly reduced me to a walker given the temps, but I shuffled through. Trixy tempo from the Trav tree on the way back. Then I set my ass in the crick to cool off.

C • MTBTNT 6

MTB from Domestique parking lot 10am Tuesday? Regular TNT Tuesday evening?

Great run with katey Mac and sudden. Felt springy.

Five times Artaban.

More arms and shoulders

Total commitment from Anvil. He and I did princess point Lord of the Flies loops. Five reps with the last one in a terrific thunder pour. Then a burner back to the park.

Time to take a shot at my annual 10k. Looks like Burlington July 17. Supe, you in? It would be like old times, cept with Katey Mac leading the charge.

C • 10 1

Ramping it up a notch

Pretty run around the hood. Trix acting as a bringer of good cheer to all.

Another perfect cycle on a perfect day. Great upside down hang time by Turbo!

Gonna call this a perfect morning. Anvil, turbo, Tarno hammer and dogs. A few bursty moments to see how pushing it a bit felt. Good! Finally no longer feeling like elephant man.

Gathering at Domestique after with my parents who are here to celebrate their 60th anniversary(!)

C • 60th Anniversary! 1

Conor still taking it easy on me. Come Monday, the gloves are off. I have been warned.

Smt from the hottage on Saturday.

family run.

Still feeling generally tired and so decided to let one more week go by before launching into it again. Nice run around the main loop with a surprise appearance by a fast moving thunderstorm. Fantastically warm hard rain as we finished the run. Summer. Gotta love it.

Time to get back at it. Start up session with Conor. kinda like starting over.

Joggy joggy with Trix through the braids and the head smashed in deer jump. Sure is green in there.

Super fine cycle with Anvil to Christie. Those trails are nothing short of outstanding. When that terrain is done, this will be one of the go-to mountain bike destinations in the southern ON. Beer at D.

Solo half SMT. Felt amazingly springy for the first 20 minutes and then reverted back to elephant man legs. I'll try again tomorrow, but am happy to get back into it slowly.

Game of Thrones at the hottage tomorrow even
Also, when we going to do a Burlington SMT and swim in Super's pool

C • Soon 1

TnT. Not a light footed evening. Heavy does it. But hey, good to see folks and take Trix out for a joggy joggy.

Postlude
After a warm and genuine set of hugs all around, we were given a special tour of the monastery with observances, chanting and horn blowing going on all around us. Eerie to be in full running kit, doing this eccentric activity in this isolated land while these ancient rituals carried on around us, unperturbed in a Buddhist-y kind of way.

We all hiked the 3k down, stopping halfway for a much needed lunch, boarded buses and headed for what turned out to be the finest hotel in Bhutan. This was a spectacular complex of buildings artfully situated on the hillside opposite Taktseng. Our rooms were outstanding and the shower was, as these things tend to be, a huge and welcome relief.

The awards banquet was a plush affair. Stefan had previously asked Joany and me to join him at the head table along with Georgina, the winning woman and a few others, including the Minister of Transportation and Communications for Bhutan. Quite an honour, but it made for stilted conversation and we would rather have hung out at one of the other tables with our new and deep friends where things were a little more relaxed and where gin and tonics were flowing freely.

We knocked off at 8:30 to pack and get ready for our flight out at 7 the next morning, slowly saying our farewells to everyone in the group. A memorable trip and a great experience for both of us. Now: home...and we can't wait to get there.

Day 6. Base camp up to Taktseng-- the Tiger's Nest.
So that pretty much sewed things up. In these events the last stage is largely a relaxed, neutral affair and I had such a gap on Paul that there was really no way the standings were going to change. The same held for Joany who happily found herself with a lock on 2nd.

The slowest 10 runners went off at 6am and the rest of us headed out at 7. We started with a few kilometres of downhill gravel road, running as a group of 5 or 6. After crossing a bridge we meandered through the rice paddies on the narrow walking paths that separate the pools from each other. Groups of women, busily planting rice, looked up from their labours in mild surprise at the odd sight of 35 people running through.

We were mocking at a pace that was comfortable for most of the runners, including Joany and fellow Canadian, Christine and so we just naturally fell in together, which was both a qtreat and a fine opportunity to take some pics of Joany in action. Very sweet.

Stefan, the race organizer, could have made this a boring last stage involving a simple 10k road run to the climb up to tiger's nest, but he had put effort into making even this last day interesting and challenging. After the rice paddies, the easy thing to so would have to send us on the main gravel road, but instead he and his course setter had discovered an interconnected set of water sluiceways carved part way up the valley. The route had us running on the concrete and earth "dike" that created the water source for all the rice fields in the area. This meant that we had an 18 inch channel of water to our left and a steep drop to our right. We were, effectively, running atop a wall.

I could manage this for a bit, but my overwhelming fear of heights got hold of me at a few point, and I, alone of all the runners, finally broke down and sloshed through the knee-deep channel itself rather than run on the six inch wide trail that threatened to pull me to my doom 10 meters below. Joany watched my struggles with her usual concerned amusement.

Once through the maze of paddies and the crazy interlinked sluice ways of death, we hit the road for a few km of steady climbing on pavement up to the parking lot for the final 3 k of steep climb to the tiger's nest.

We got our first glimpse of the monastery 2k from the trailhead. This was an extraordinary place built, impossibly, 2/3 of the way up a 700 meter cliff. The trail up was as steep as anything we had faced in the previous week, but we took it slowly and enjoyed the glimpses of Taktseng as we rounded switchbacks and as the wisps of clouds parted and flowed away. Think of every Asian image you've ever had of mist and sheer cliffs and dense moss covered vegetation and temples in the sky and this would have been the far more compelling source eimage.

To have that as the finish line to our race was astounding; to finish the last stage hand in hand with Joany was over the top.

C • Congrats! 8

Day 5. up and down the three sides of the Paro valley, predominantly flat

The long day. Stage races always have long days, but usually 80k or more. Given the pounding we've taken this week, a 50k stage was a merciful reprieve from the usual hair shirt ethic of these things.

Paul, Georgina and I headed off the front and we ran comfortably together for the first 3k. They both decided at a certain point to walk a gentle incline and I slowed, thinking I might run with them. But I found it a bit uncomfortable and so drifted ahead. In short order I was on my own again. This was an unusual race for me. Not only was I winning by a large margin, but I was doing it entirely on my own. I ran with other people maybe a total of 10 minutes. The rest of the time I was totally in my own head and running at whatever pace I felt was manageable. Interesting.

The first 20k were through rice paddies and up and around the Paro Dzong, a magnificent structure that is one of the most beautiful in Bhutan. About 25k in, my left knee began to hurt and pain became my companion until I somehow worked how not to dwell on it and just concentrated on not doing any more damage by slowing a touch and shortening my stride. And a whack of anti-inflammatories at CP 3.

About 20k we dropped on to a long stretch of tarmac beside the Paro airport, which was a relief. Also pretty cool to see a few planes banking hard to make one of the most difficult landings on the planet. On the other side of the airport and just after another one of the crazy suspension foot bridges, I picked up my police escort. Again, how cool is that? He was my companion for the rest of the stage, clearing cars, trucks, children and dogs from my way.

It was unremarkable and hot road running until the final 2 kilometres, although I never stopped looking around and wondering about the magic and improbability of doing such a thing as a stage running race in such an alien place.

At 2k to go, and at the limits of my willingness to continue, I rounded a curve and saw the ruined fortress that was the finish. Then two children jump out of a vehicle coming toward me and announce, in fine English, that they had been sent by their teacher to show me the way. One of them also advised me to "do your best sir!" Which nearly brought me to tears.

I was genuinely brought to tears, if not reduced to outright blubbering, when I saw the long flight of stone stairs that wound around the outside of the fortress lined with hundreds of school children all there to cheer in these strange foreign runners. I was deeply moved, but also deeply relieved to be done.

The finish was in the courtyard of the ruins. Perfect.

Camp was a 10 minute walk down and so I waited at the top until Joany came in, looking just as relieved as I was to be done.

Day 4. Phajoding to Paro. 37k 3000 meters of descending
What a magical evening. The weather was the warmest it had been so far this year at this altitude and so shirtsleeve comfortable. We engaged in a pre-arranged soccer game with the young monks at the school. A bit of a mismatch considering the altitude, what we had just done and the relative age difference, but spellbinding to watch.

Crummy sleep in a common room with 10 others, even with the imovane. But that's how it goes with these things. You don't do the for the accommodations or the food.

We were up at 5 as usual and headed into the central courtyard for the usual corn flakes with hot milk and scrambled eggs with toast that makes up breakfast. Race start at 7. We climbed a further 100 meters to 3700 meters, the highest point in the race. The trail was buff and cruisable, but shuffling along was the best any of us could do at this point.

Man, this was a hard one. After the climb, there was an extremely technical descent, deeply rutted and treacherous. I began to really feel my knee, but was in the lead by about 3 minutes at CP1, which was at the base of a long hard climb. The water system Joany had worked out had served us well through the week. Two Ultimate Direction flasks in the shoulder pouches and a one litre camelback bladder. Drink from the flasks first and only fill the camelback if necessary.

Because it was cool and overcast, water wasn't much if an issue for the day so far, but I topped up at the CP and began the climb. This was kilometre 11. The next CP was 7k up, or at least was supposed to be. And so at 18k as showing on my trusty Gramin, I began feeling the usual CP anticipation. By the time I get to 20k, I know something is wrong. I'm still very much on the well-marked course, but I'm still going straight up. Then at 20k, I emerge into a clearing with a few small building and flurry of prayer flags. An obvious place for a checkpoint, but...nope. So I trudge on.

At 22k, I know I've missed the CP and start thinking hard about water. The next CP is at 27k, which means I'll be going almost two and a half hours on a litre and a half of water. Tight in the best of circumstances. But this is how things have worked out and so I'll just have to make do. There was no other option, but to get to CP3 as fast as I could.

At 24k I broke through the tree line and saw the top at the far side of a long mountain meadow. Millions and millions of huge May flies took flight and buzzed all around. Kinda cool; kinda creepy. As the trail crested, I could see the vast panorama with Paro 2000 meters below. Knowing that the hard bits were done, I drank all the water I had left and began descending. CP 3 arrived as scheduled and I hobbled down through the rest of the course. The run to the bottom did some knee damage, but the race paddy cruise just before the finish was a marvel.

As it turns out the local guides had a heck of a time locating the checkpoint and got there only after Paul, Georgina and I had been through. Manu, who was second last year, and who was one of the terrific volunteers, grabbed two liters of water and charged up. He caught Paul and Georgina, but I was too far ahead. A hero move on his part.

Day 3 Thimphu Valley to Phajoding monastery 28k. Climb to 3600 meters.

The start was straight from our accommodation, around town for a small loop and then along one side of a valley and along the other. At 8 minutes i took a wrong turn in complete defiance of a superbly marked course. Because I had again shot off I got about 200 meters up a steep hill before the chase pack started yelling from where, for no good reason, I had turned right. No real harm, but I had to slap back down the pavement to catch up and get back on course.

I ran with the group for a few minutes, but I had a bit more in me and so I kicked it up a notch to CP 1, which actually overlooked camp from the night before. I grabbed water and headed off, but without the same spring in my step. I was beginning to feel the previous two days.

About 3k after the CP and just after passing the major military installation, there was a major downhill. At the bottom, there was a race photographer and...a police motorcycle escort. How much fun is that? He took me through the outskirts of Thimphu as far as a turnoff into single track. I had a bit a bobble with a missed marking and lost a few minutes making sure I got on course and was immediately caught by Masanao, a Japanese runner. Cool. Company!

We ran together for a few kilometres until we got to a steep, but runnable downhill. That guy was off like a shot. I have never seen anyone descend like that. I kinda sorta went with him, but he was in another league. And if that's all there was to the race he would have won by hours, but 400 meters was all the descending he got before we turned up a vicious 2 k climb to CP 2. Masanao was not a climber and so I caught him quickly and got to the CP maybe 5 minutes ahead.

A spectacular setting! High above the royal palace with terrace after terrace of rice patties in between us and the city below. Spellbinding. Best checkpoint of all time. I took a moment to dwell on the sight and then started the 7k straight up. CP 2 was at 2400 meters; the finish was at 3600 meters. It started off all nice and calm like, with a soft single track, but then it yanked right at a field of prayer flags and got really hard really quickly.

There was a bit of a let up half way up, with a kilometre of level running, but at 3000 meters and after the running done so far, I could manage only the ugliest of shuffles. I was running out of gas. Food is critical in these things, and I'd been scrupulous about taking a salt tab every 30 minutes and alternating gels and bars on the 15s and 45s, but I was low and Bad Thoughts were creeping in. So I slammed down two gels , took a breather and let the view sink in a bit.

That pulled me back into it, but it was a hard march to the top at the Phajoding monastery, one of Bhutan's holiest places. What a relief to have that done, and my god what a setting. Thimphu is 1500 meters below, the sky is filled with scudding clouds, and the monastery complex is beautiful and serene.

Paul, the Brit, came in 6 minutes later and Masanao, about 6 minutes after that. That they came in as quickly as they did was a surprise considering the margin of victory from yesterday, but that's one of the things that makes stage races so interesting.

Half the bags had been brought up by mule, and the remainder would be here in an hour. It was sunny, but cool--maybe 15. My bag had not made it up yet, but--and here's a cool spinoff benefit to doing this with your spouse--Joany's was! I immediately took off my soaked jersey and put on Joany's coat. Perfect! And rather fetching too.

And then I settled in to wait for Joany who has been having a tremendous go of it in her own right. Toward the end of the previous day, however, she had begun to feel off. She took some nausea drugs and got a good night's sleep, but was woozy at the start. And so I worried, as is my right. Radio communications confirmed that Joany had made it past CP2, which meant she was coping. She made it up at her own pace and in good cheer and all was well.

Day 2 Chorten Nyingpo to Thimphu Valley (28.7 km, 2300 meters of climbing 1600 descending)

A magical evening overlooking miles of terraced rice patties descending to the valley. Stefan had arranged with the local lama that we could all attend evening prayers and meditation, which Joany and I did. Fortunately, Stefan had also arranged that we could leave the one hour ceremony at any time without insult. Which was good because we had to sit cross legged on a wooden floor. Interesting and worthwhile for about four minutes and then cramps set in and so we beat our discrete retreat and went to our tent in the courtyard to prepare for the next day.

Day 2 was promised to be the hardest of the race with a 20k climb to 3400 meters and then a monster descent into the Thimphu valley. Duly warned Joany and loaded up on extra gels and bars and got over to the start for 7am. It had been warm through the night, and the weather looked benign, but the altitude and quirky weather made a rain jacket mandatory.

I wasn't sure really how to approach the day, but I felt largely recovered from yesterday and the first five clicks were on whippy single track and so I just decided to take the lead from the get go.time to see what all of those K2 repeats did for me. I opened it up a bit and enjoyed the perfect trail conditions. Buff, a little soft, high above a spectacular valley, swooping left and right. Pure pleasure.

By the time the trail began to climb in earnest, I was well on my own. The only thing for it was to head up as fast as I could. It was Grouse Grind steep with no let up for the next 12k. CP 1 was at 10k and I got there after an hour and a half. CP 2 was at 17k and took a full two hours more. Relentless. But it cooled steadily as the trail ascended and the time went quickly as we ascended into cloud forest.

Grabbed some water at cP 2 and began the 10k 1600 meter descent. A kilometre in, I came up against the back end of a herd of cattle. Huh? Like a dozen cows all heading down 30% single track. I had to pass them one at a time by yelling like a crazy man and taking some really stupid risks. This complication at least got my heart rate down and so by the time I got through the bunch I was ready to cruise again.

About half way down, the gnarly single track gave way to a crude road and I could run more easily, but my left knee began to thicken and so I kept a manageable pace until I got into town and the finish.

My time of 4:35 was 45 minutes faster than the next two finishers. A bit of a puzzle. I'm running well and feel strong, but I'm still surprised at how well I'm doing.

Bhumthang to the monastery at Chorten Nyingpo

Stunning start to the race. We returned to the Punakha Dzong, where hundreds of students were lined on both sides of the bridge. A blessing by the llama of the Dzong and then we were off. I had no picture whatsoever how this race would go for me because these things are so much about who shows up. There were a number of very experienced stage runners, and even a few we had run with in previous events, but with 35 runners there could be a huge range of abilities.

In any event, I gave Joany a ritual pre-race kiss and moved to the front of the group. I decided to mark the front runners and see how things unfolded. An Irish runner named Aiden took off and I settled in 10 meters behind him. The pace was fast, but not killer and so I hung on. 4k in, Aiden ducks up a gravel road and says he has to pee. Well me too, so that was handy. I looked around and see that the rest of the field is well back. As I start running again I look for Aiden. He's still up the side road and so I really have no choice but to head out, now in the lead.

And with my own police escort! This stage was 30k, the first 20 primarily on road, and the last 10k straight up 500 meters of ascent. So it was a runners game. I felt great. It was hot, but manageable, and so I just ran to perceived effort, a notch or two back from the Sulphur Springs relay the weekend before. Heck. Time to go for it, even if this was the first and easiest if the six stages.

Checkpoint 1 was a bit of a muddle. The cop stops his motorcycle and motions for me to climb up the 20 meters to the start of the terrifying looking longest suspension foot bridge in Bhutan. The race markings are clear. Carry on down the road and take a switchback to the same place. There are also xxx's on the the scramble the cop wants me to take, put there quite purposefully by the course setter to signal that the clamber the cop was more than suggesting was clearly the Wrong Way.

Stand off. The cop had actually set his motorcycle to block me from taking the right way. Cops win over course markings in my book and so I cut the course as instructed by the authorities.

And then the bridge. Cripes. 200 meters long. Maybe 50 meters above the river. Not. My. Thing. So I get in my defensive crouch and do a Groucho Marx walk to avoid the whole horrible thing from swaying. Disastrously for my state of mind, CP 1 was at the end of the bridge and doc Josh was running toward me yelling that I had taken the wrong way. I'm yelling back at him to stop running godammit, stop running. The whole freakin bridge is swaying like a crazy thing. He sees the terror in me, and then sees the murder in my eyes. Fortunately for everybody, he stops and quietly let's me by.

I make it to other side relieved beyond understanding to have got through. My penalty for having cut the course was hastily arranged and agreed upon. I would wait three minutes before proceeding. Perfect! I organize my pack, load up with water and then drink a boat load before taking on the next segment. Couldn't see anyone behind me.

The course made its way alongside the river, generally flat and easy running. But it was hot. Like freakish hot. I hit CP 2, again just over a scary bridge--and on which I had to pass five cows--still feeling good. But the heat was having an effect. This was going to get hard any minute now.

And so it did. Aside from a few short flat spots, it was all steeply uphill and, for me, completely unrunnable. The heat had taken away any spring to my step and so from one moment to the next what had been a glorious run became a trudge inside a furnace. The motivator was that I still couldn't see anyone behind me and so I kept up as steady a pace as I could manage.

I had it in my mind that the course was 27k. There was no reason for thinking this because we had been told a number of times that his was a 30k day. And so I suffered from phantom monastery syndrome for the last 5k. Around every turn it just HAD to be there. Except not. Trudge, trudge, trudge. Then here it was, the finish, just up ahead. Like a chord going off in my head.

Which would have been great if the wheels didn't suddenly come right off. From one step to the next, I lost peripheral vision and could only resolve a small circle in front of me. Really? 300 meters from the finish and I'm going to pass out? Come on. I lean over and put my hands on my knees for 30 seconds and the moment passes.

Done! A stage 1 win. Paul the Brit is in 5 minutes later and then Kamil, who we knew from Al Andalus, 20 minutes after that. Even though I was well ahead of Paul at CP 2, I had lost 5 minutes to Paul on the climb, and so the stage ended just on time from my perspective.

And then, wonderfully, there was Joany! 45 minutes after me. A great start to the week.