Training Log Archive: TravIn the 7 days ending Apr 28, 2013:
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Saturday Apr 27, 2013 #
4 AM
run race 1:40:55 13.87 km (7:17 / km) +1223m 5:03 / km
ahr:153 max:167
Distance and climb are based on what had been promised in the pre race briefing, but I gotta think that was a bit of southern Italian puffery. Ain't no way I could run 20 km and gain 1400 meters in 1:41.
Last stage. A beautiful traverse of the southern exposure of mt etna. Still plenty of climbing, but almost all at a runnable pace, and some good ole fashioned flat out racing.
It was another fast start, but maybe a bit more cautious than the previous days and so I thought what the hell, let's just give 'er and see what happens. So I took the lead and felt pretty full of myself for about five minutes. Then Marco and Guillaume softly drifted past me, clearly amused by my empty bravado, but wishing me a bonne course nonetheless.
My little burst of activity did put me at the front of the mere human runners as we hit the first of the single track. In a tactic I have honed over four separate stage races, I immediately led this chase pack of 5-6 runners off track and into heavy, intractable, dense bush. All the lead runners followed me into the lobster trap. Easy to get into and wretched to get out of.
5 minutes of thrashing and getting thrashed, and I was the first to spot the course 50 meters below. There was a barely discernible trail down a bit of a nose to it and i yelled for everybody to follow me. An interesting aspect of this tactic is that now no one trusts you and so they don't immediately follow. What then necessarily follows is that everyone involved in the train wreck panics and has to redline to get back in position.
I had done what I could to make things right, it was an accident, my only obligation now was to run like a crazy man to get past folks who were a little surprised to see me again.
Half an hour later I got reeled in by Jorge and, through the complicated mental telepathy that happens in racing, we agreed to run together through the dreamy forest tracks that were so much more my kinda running.
As we climbed, I began to feel the effects of altitude, or the week of running, or whatever, but I began to feel like crap. Jorge could sense this and actually gave me what i took to be an encouraging word in Spanish, but could also have been "See ya". And then I remembered I had a gel strapped to my little camelback, just like Balogna taught me. Can't get no worse, so I downed it.
Instantly felt better. These things are magic. I was back beside him in no time and began to test his resolve. And suddenly up a nasty little climb he was back there somewhere. Time to see what I had left.
A quick look at the hrm showed not much, but I did what I thought was my best imitation of a surge and then, boom, the finish popped out of nowhere. I had no sense it was coming, but a truly welcome sight indeed.
Jorge finished a minute later and Davide (who, as it turned out had cartwheeled in yesterday's free fall descent, breaking a finger and badly cheese gratering his left leg on the pumice, all while still getting down two minutes faster than me) arrived a few minutes later.
No change in the overall standings, but a worthy 3rd place finish for stage 5. Davide (who finished 3rd overall) came up to me after to suggest that I would be really good at this, if I just learned how to descend properly. I'll take that as a high compliment.
The day was complete when Balogna finished in good form and terrific cheer. We stopped for a bit to listen to the artillery-like booming of Mt Etna tossing lava bombs at the sky and marveled.
Last stage. A beautiful traverse of the southern exposure of mt etna. Still plenty of climbing, but almost all at a runnable pace, and some good ole fashioned flat out racing.
It was another fast start, but maybe a bit more cautious than the previous days and so I thought what the hell, let's just give 'er and see what happens. So I took the lead and felt pretty full of myself for about five minutes. Then Marco and Guillaume softly drifted past me, clearly amused by my empty bravado, but wishing me a bonne course nonetheless.
My little burst of activity did put me at the front of the mere human runners as we hit the first of the single track. In a tactic I have honed over four separate stage races, I immediately led this chase pack of 5-6 runners off track and into heavy, intractable, dense bush. All the lead runners followed me into the lobster trap. Easy to get into and wretched to get out of.
5 minutes of thrashing and getting thrashed, and I was the first to spot the course 50 meters below. There was a barely discernible trail down a bit of a nose to it and i yelled for everybody to follow me. An interesting aspect of this tactic is that now no one trusts you and so they don't immediately follow. What then necessarily follows is that everyone involved in the train wreck panics and has to redline to get back in position.
I had done what I could to make things right, it was an accident, my only obligation now was to run like a crazy man to get past folks who were a little surprised to see me again.
Half an hour later I got reeled in by Jorge and, through the complicated mental telepathy that happens in racing, we agreed to run together through the dreamy forest tracks that were so much more my kinda running.
As we climbed, I began to feel the effects of altitude, or the week of running, or whatever, but I began to feel like crap. Jorge could sense this and actually gave me what i took to be an encouraging word in Spanish, but could also have been "See ya". And then I remembered I had a gel strapped to my little camelback, just like Balogna taught me. Can't get no worse, so I downed it.
Instantly felt better. These things are magic. I was back beside him in no time and began to test his resolve. And suddenly up a nasty little climb he was back there somewhere. Time to see what I had left.
A quick look at the hrm showed not much, but I did what I thought was my best imitation of a surge and then, boom, the finish popped out of nowhere. I had no sense it was coming, but a truly welcome sight indeed.
Jorge finished a minute later and Davide (who, as it turned out had cartwheeled in yesterday's free fall descent, breaking a finger and badly cheese gratering his left leg on the pumice, all while still getting down two minutes faster than me) arrived a few minutes later.
No change in the overall standings, but a worthy 3rd place finish for stage 5. Davide (who finished 3rd overall) came up to me after to suggest that I would be really good at this, if I just learned how to descend properly. I'll take that as a high compliment.
The day was complete when Balogna finished in good form and terrific cheer. We stopped for a bit to listen to the artillery-like booming of Mt Etna tossing lava bombs at the sky and marveled.
C • Etna 2
Friday Apr 26, 2013 #
5 AM
run race 1:04:38 9.4 km (6:52 / km) +756m 4:54 / km
ahr:157 max:165
And now stage four. Stage three, while definitely one of the more amazing runs of my life, knocked me back to 6th, but only by a few seconds. 1 and 2 are pretty much locked up by athletes from a whole different planet. Marco Galazzo is ahead by a month, followed by Guillaume, last years's winner. Then we get to the level of we mere humans and it gets a bit tighter and is a bit more of a contest. Enjoying the run and having this experience with Balogna are the primary goals, but I'm also here to race. and with positions this tight, it's become a cool tactical game.
So today was the first of two stages on Mt. Etna. It's been active of late, forcing the organizers to knock 200 meters of climb and 2 km of distance from the stage. This was just fine with everybody, particularly given that the much anticipated snow and pumice descent was still part of the package. This was also a much less technical ascent, rising up a steep jeep road to the highest point. More in my wheelhouse.
The start was at 11 and this time I had no problem getting to 160 and beyond. The start was at 1600 meters, which was part of it, but the usual group shot off the front and I meant to stay with them as long as I could, so i had to be careful not to overshoot. Arnaud, currently in 5th, by a few seconds, covered every move I made and vice versa until half way up the climb when we got passed by the lead woman, Arianna, tap tapping her way along like a little machine.
She never broke out of a run the whole way to the top, an amazing display of consistency and form. I tried to stay with her as best I could, and soon realized that I'd opened a gap over Arnaud. As we got to the snow line--which quickly became two 15 foot walls of snow on either side, super cool and nicely cooling at that point in the race--I could no longer hear him. I decided that from here in i would no longer look back. I just dug and ground to the top 10 meters behind Arianna.
The top came sooner than I expected as I saw her turn sharply to the right. I got there a moment later and saw the snow field we had to cross. Soft, spring mush. This is a surface I know.
It took me moments to get by Arianna, who was knocked off her stride by the strange texture; and then another one of those 600 meter plunges down a volcano side, this time interrupted by bands of snow traverses. I felt much more comfortable on this elevator ride, taking longer jumps and getting closer to losing control. I got passed by Davide, but arnaud was back there somewhere, and that's how I kept it.
Finished in 5th and was totally chuffed with the fun of it all. Balogna finished in good time and we both jumped around thrilled to be part of this wonderful experience.
So today was the first of two stages on Mt. Etna. It's been active of late, forcing the organizers to knock 200 meters of climb and 2 km of distance from the stage. This was just fine with everybody, particularly given that the much anticipated snow and pumice descent was still part of the package. This was also a much less technical ascent, rising up a steep jeep road to the highest point. More in my wheelhouse.
The start was at 11 and this time I had no problem getting to 160 and beyond. The start was at 1600 meters, which was part of it, but the usual group shot off the front and I meant to stay with them as long as I could, so i had to be careful not to overshoot. Arnaud, currently in 5th, by a few seconds, covered every move I made and vice versa until half way up the climb when we got passed by the lead woman, Arianna, tap tapping her way along like a little machine.
She never broke out of a run the whole way to the top, an amazing display of consistency and form. I tried to stay with her as best I could, and soon realized that I'd opened a gap over Arnaud. As we got to the snow line--which quickly became two 15 foot walls of snow on either side, super cool and nicely cooling at that point in the race--I could no longer hear him. I decided that from here in i would no longer look back. I just dug and ground to the top 10 meters behind Arianna.
The top came sooner than I expected as I saw her turn sharply to the right. I got there a moment later and saw the snow field we had to cross. Soft, spring mush. This is a surface I know.
It took me moments to get by Arianna, who was knocked off her stride by the strange texture; and then another one of those 600 meter plunges down a volcano side, this time interrupted by bands of snow traverses. I felt much more comfortable on this elevator ride, taking longer jumps and getting closer to losing control. I got passed by Davide, but arnaud was back there somewhere, and that's how I kept it.
Finished in 5th and was totally chuffed with the fun of it all. Balogna finished in good time and we both jumped around thrilled to be part of this wonderful experience.
Thursday Apr 25, 2013 #
Note
Rest and travel day. We took off from Stromboli in a jet powered hydrofoil, transferring to a regular old jet boat back on vulcano. Total water time was about 3 hous, but it brought us around most of the eolian islands for one final viewing of what we had done.
Two more hours on bus brings us to the shoulder of Mount Etna, which has been super active for most of the spring. Good views through the bus window of ash puffing from the snow covered top. Bringing the focus back to ground and we see that ash has been shoveled into little piles everywhere. Life under the volcano.
Things I don't get about Southern Europe:
Why do they eat so late? Like 8pm is early for dinner. Wassup with that?
Why do the toilets have the water part to the front of the bowl and a little porcelain shelf to the back where things can, um, pile up.
Two more hours on bus brings us to the shoulder of Mount Etna, which has been super active for most of the spring. Good views through the bus window of ash puffing from the snow covered top. Bringing the focus back to ground and we see that ash has been shoveled into little piles everywhere. Life under the volcano.
Things I don't get about Southern Europe:
Why do they eat so late? Like 8pm is early for dinner. Wassup with that?
Why do the toilets have the water part to the front of the bowl and a little porcelain shelf to the back where things can, um, pile up.
Wednesday Apr 24, 2013 #
9 AM
run race 1:19:45 8.77 km (9:06 / km) +1007m 5:47 / km
ahr:153 max:162
After two nights on Isla Salinas, it was on to Stromboli for stage 3. Rough seas messed with the schedule a bit, but the locals and the organizers handled the situation superbly. Not much they could do about the bad combination of smallish boat, 2 meter rolling waves and a two hour crossing. Plenty of folks getting plenty sick. But not Balogna and me. Seasick proof we are.
Stromboli is a perfect cone volcano, rising directly from the sea. The island is Stromboli volcano and Stromboli volcano is the island. And we were going up to the top and straight back down as fast as we could; and, hey, after 1800 meters yesterday, why not knock back another 1000 meters today?
After stage 2, I was sitting in fourth, with 7 seconds on the next guy and five minutes separating 4, 5, 6 and 7. And after yesterday, I was not going to be able to sneak up on anybody. I had been marked, which was kinda proud making.
The start was both faster and more implacable than the previous two. I talked myself into believing that the front runners were ganging up on me. Bastards. But a quick check of my heart rate made it clear that I was the problem. Even though the climb felt ferocious, I couldnt get past 150 bpm. Heart and lungs were there, drumming their fingers on the table, but feets were failing me now.
So I settled in and decided to enjoy the ride. This being a perfect volcanic cone, it got steeper as we got closer to the summit. The stretch from 750 to 900 meters was a full on Spider-Man, use as many limbs as you got, face 9 inches from the ground, scramble. Stromboli chuffing lava bombs at the sea the whole time. Absolutely, completely, totally other-worldly. Made all the more so by the psychedelic effects of maximal effort. And for a guy scared of heights, kinda of tricky mentally. I kept thinking that Italy was clearly Not afflicted by tort litigation. Odd things cross one's mind under load.
I was all alone in 7th at the top. Took a pirouette to soak it in and take a super vivid mind Polaroid and then hit the descent. There had been much talk about this descent all week. And for good reason. Take your standard sand dune run. Turn the sand black and make it lighter and finer. Then have it laid out in a soft carpet in front of you for 700 meters of free fall. Itwas as close to flying as I have ever come. I actually had to clear my ears as I was going down. Honest. Twice. That's fast down going.
You have to (well I had to--you can come up with your own technique) settle back, land on you heals and just keep kicking your feet out. It was a wild, out of control, but weirdly safe careening dive back to town.
Took 1:05 to get up. 15 minutes to get down. Nuts. Just plain nuts.
We are loving this event. Now sitting in a little jazz cafe, sipping local white wine and eating olives. Life is good..
Stromboli is a perfect cone volcano, rising directly from the sea. The island is Stromboli volcano and Stromboli volcano is the island. And we were going up to the top and straight back down as fast as we could; and, hey, after 1800 meters yesterday, why not knock back another 1000 meters today?
After stage 2, I was sitting in fourth, with 7 seconds on the next guy and five minutes separating 4, 5, 6 and 7. And after yesterday, I was not going to be able to sneak up on anybody. I had been marked, which was kinda proud making.
The start was both faster and more implacable than the previous two. I talked myself into believing that the front runners were ganging up on me. Bastards. But a quick check of my heart rate made it clear that I was the problem. Even though the climb felt ferocious, I couldnt get past 150 bpm. Heart and lungs were there, drumming their fingers on the table, but feets were failing me now.
So I settled in and decided to enjoy the ride. This being a perfect volcanic cone, it got steeper as we got closer to the summit. The stretch from 750 to 900 meters was a full on Spider-Man, use as many limbs as you got, face 9 inches from the ground, scramble. Stromboli chuffing lava bombs at the sea the whole time. Absolutely, completely, totally other-worldly. Made all the more so by the psychedelic effects of maximal effort. And for a guy scared of heights, kinda of tricky mentally. I kept thinking that Italy was clearly Not afflicted by tort litigation. Odd things cross one's mind under load.
I was all alone in 7th at the top. Took a pirouette to soak it in and take a super vivid mind Polaroid and then hit the descent. There had been much talk about this descent all week. And for good reason. Take your standard sand dune run. Turn the sand black and make it lighter and finer. Then have it laid out in a soft carpet in front of you for 700 meters of free fall. Itwas as close to flying as I have ever come. I actually had to clear my ears as I was going down. Honest. Twice. That's fast down going.
You have to (well I had to--you can come up with your own technique) settle back, land on you heals and just keep kicking your feet out. It was a wild, out of control, but weirdly safe careening dive back to town.
Took 1:05 to get up. 15 minutes to get down. Nuts. Just plain nuts.
We are loving this event. Now sitting in a little jazz cafe, sipping local white wine and eating olives. Life is good..
Tuesday Apr 23, 2013 #
3 AM
run race 3:01:39 18.38 km (9:53 / km) +1883m 6:32 / km
ahr:153 max:172
Yes, you read that right. 1800 meters in 20 km, made up of two crazed volcano climbs on the double humped island of Salinas, the second of the three Eolian islands hosting this race. 1800 meters is, by the arithmetic I did over and over again as the stage unfolded, 30 K2s. From basecamp. 30. K. 2s.
There was no warming up for this one. 300 meters around town and then...up. Just up. These islands don't mess around. They get right to the business of being REALLY steep volcanos straightaway.
Same plan as yesterday, get to 160 bpm and hang there until failure. I got to 160 in just under 4 minutes; failure came close, but never quite got hold.
I lost contact with the front four fairly quickly and then was on my own. I could hear others below me, but getting to the top was a solo affair. Footing was solid, almost staircase like, and at the top, after 1000 meters of relentless climbing, there was a helpful, almost dreamy little forest, with its own jeep road that circled the summit. Inexplicably pleasant to just run for half a click.
That little half circle brought us to the other side of V1 where we could finally get a glimpse of the V2, a virtual copy of the one we just climbed. And we were going to the top of that one too. Once we descended 600 meters to the saddle between the two.
Nothing for it, but to pound down as best I could. Almost immediately, whoosh and whoosh, two of the pesky French descender freaks dance by me as if I were just another rock they had to get around. Bastards.
So now I'm 7th and can hear others above me. This was the bummed out, why do I this shit, part of the race. But then I got a good face full of some of the most astonishing scenery this blessed planet has to offer and thought, well how ELSE does one get to see this part of the Mediterranean from not one but TWO volcano tops in one day?
I felt this odd surge and finally got into a rhythm. Got down to the bottom with no further insults to my pride, grabbed some water at the half way point and started up V2. I was now in a dog fight with Everest Man, a deeply tanned mountain guide from France. He was one of the two who had passed me earlier, but had not gained much ground.
I got to him about 200 meters passed the aid station and started the climb in the lead. We went up V2, a more difficult scramble of a climb, about 10 meters apart. Just before the top, we see the OTHER French guy who whooshed past me on V1. He was struggling. I gave as good as I got. There are no rules in a volcano fight.
Having dusted Whoosh Guy number 1, Everest Man and I begin the descent. This time I stay in closer, but he clearly was the more skilled mountain runner. But I never lose sight of him as we go back down to 400 meters. From there we turn left and begin a super gnarly trail run with another 200 meters of climbing thrown in, just in case we were still feeling spry. I got ahead, but not by much.
The final descent was the most cruel. 200 meters down the nastiest technical trail (4 foot drops, loose scree, the worst) I have ever tried to run while completely shattered. Everest Man does his stupid whooshy thing on me again as I try my hardest just not to die.
But then the descending was over and the trail leveled out to a perfect undulating single track. My kinda turf. And Everest Man didn't have enough on me to get away. Back at ya, Everest Man. So now I'm in 6th by my count and, bam, straight ahead there's another runner, working his poles, not hearing me sneak up on him and 200 meters ahead of him, yet another. Whoosh. And whoosh.
The last kilometer was all about holding them off. What a blast.
There was no warming up for this one. 300 meters around town and then...up. Just up. These islands don't mess around. They get right to the business of being REALLY steep volcanos straightaway.
Same plan as yesterday, get to 160 bpm and hang there until failure. I got to 160 in just under 4 minutes; failure came close, but never quite got hold.
I lost contact with the front four fairly quickly and then was on my own. I could hear others below me, but getting to the top was a solo affair. Footing was solid, almost staircase like, and at the top, after 1000 meters of relentless climbing, there was a helpful, almost dreamy little forest, with its own jeep road that circled the summit. Inexplicably pleasant to just run for half a click.
That little half circle brought us to the other side of V1 where we could finally get a glimpse of the V2, a virtual copy of the one we just climbed. And we were going to the top of that one too. Once we descended 600 meters to the saddle between the two.
Nothing for it, but to pound down as best I could. Almost immediately, whoosh and whoosh, two of the pesky French descender freaks dance by me as if I were just another rock they had to get around. Bastards.
So now I'm 7th and can hear others above me. This was the bummed out, why do I this shit, part of the race. But then I got a good face full of some of the most astonishing scenery this blessed planet has to offer and thought, well how ELSE does one get to see this part of the Mediterranean from not one but TWO volcano tops in one day?
I felt this odd surge and finally got into a rhythm. Got down to the bottom with no further insults to my pride, grabbed some water at the half way point and started up V2. I was now in a dog fight with Everest Man, a deeply tanned mountain guide from France. He was one of the two who had passed me earlier, but had not gained much ground.
I got to him about 200 meters passed the aid station and started the climb in the lead. We went up V2, a more difficult scramble of a climb, about 10 meters apart. Just before the top, we see the OTHER French guy who whooshed past me on V1. He was struggling. I gave as good as I got. There are no rules in a volcano fight.
Having dusted Whoosh Guy number 1, Everest Man and I begin the descent. This time I stay in closer, but he clearly was the more skilled mountain runner. But I never lose sight of him as we go back down to 400 meters. From there we turn left and begin a super gnarly trail run with another 200 meters of climbing thrown in, just in case we were still feeling spry. I got ahead, but not by much.
The final descent was the most cruel. 200 meters down the nastiest technical trail (4 foot drops, loose scree, the worst) I have ever tried to run while completely shattered. Everest Man does his stupid whooshy thing on me again as I try my hardest just not to die.
But then the descending was over and the trail leveled out to a perfect undulating single track. My kinda turf. And Everest Man didn't have enough on me to get away. Back at ya, Everest Man. So now I'm in 6th by my count and, bam, straight ahead there's another runner, working his poles, not hearing me sneak up on him and 200 meters ahead of him, yet another. Whoosh. And whoosh.
The last kilometer was all about holding them off. What a blast.
C • Wow 3
Monday Apr 22, 2013 #
4 AM
run race 57:12 10.79 km (5:18 / km) +434m 4:25 / km
ahr:161 max:170
Stage 1. This is one sick crazy cool runfest. It became clear during the race briefing that some serious mountain running talent has assembled. Marco Gazzola, who won the Tor de Geants, among others. All kinds of Euro runners decked out in compression spandex like they were all channelling Zoolander.
Started fast and decided to stay with the front group until my heart rate went past 160, which to my surprise kept me in the hunt for the first two kilometers around the "volcano piano". The little volcano. Maybe a 50 meter climb. Around the little village and across a black sand beech that I thought was helpfully covered In nice round stones. Except they were not nice round stones; they were thousands and thousands of dead jelly fish. Not so good for grip. Double plus icky.
Then the climb up Vulcano Island's main volcano. 500 meters up in less than 2 km. to the top i was in 4th, gaining on 3 as all those k2 reps came back to fuel me. The fumaroles at the top were churning out choking clouds of sulphur and the traill went straight though them. Nothing concentrates the mind quite like running on jagged pumice, unable to breathe, while completely blinded by sulphur smoke. Unbelievably, amazingly cool. And wicked stinky.
And then down. Managed to hold folks off for the initial descent down the "nose", but a wet cobblestone section a quarter way down got the better of me and I slowed way down. Whoosh a guy goes by. Freakin' euros and their surreal descending powers.
I snuck a look back and saw two other downhill euro-predators coming for me, but by then the surface had gotten softer and more reliable and I was able to got all PH on their asses and hold them off.
Then a 3k road run to the finish at the same black beach. 5th. 9 minutes back from Marco, who won with ease and grace. A privilege to be in the same race with a runner like that.
Wonderful to see Balogna coming in with her horizon to horizon grin.
Started fast and decided to stay with the front group until my heart rate went past 160, which to my surprise kept me in the hunt for the first two kilometers around the "volcano piano". The little volcano. Maybe a 50 meter climb. Around the little village and across a black sand beech that I thought was helpfully covered In nice round stones. Except they were not nice round stones; they were thousands and thousands of dead jelly fish. Not so good for grip. Double plus icky.
Then the climb up Vulcano Island's main volcano. 500 meters up in less than 2 km. to the top i was in 4th, gaining on 3 as all those k2 reps came back to fuel me. The fumaroles at the top were churning out choking clouds of sulphur and the traill went straight though them. Nothing concentrates the mind quite like running on jagged pumice, unable to breathe, while completely blinded by sulphur smoke. Unbelievably, amazingly cool. And wicked stinky.
And then down. Managed to hold folks off for the initial descent down the "nose", but a wet cobblestone section a quarter way down got the better of me and I slowed way down. Whoosh a guy goes by. Freakin' euros and their surreal descending powers.
I snuck a look back and saw two other downhill euro-predators coming for me, but by then the surface had gotten softer and more reliable and I was able to got all PH on their asses and hold them off.
Then a 3k road run to the finish at the same black beach. 5th. 9 minutes back from Marco, who won with ease and grace. A privilege to be in the same race with a runner like that.
Wonderful to see Balogna coming in with her horizon to horizon grin.
C • Yay! 3