Training Log Archive: PG

On the rebound, hopefully, can at least walk today without too much pain. Spent most of the day on my back, legs up, trying to relax whatever it is that is in spasm.

Did find time for two training sessions. The first was a slow walk down to the end of the driveway and back. The second was a slow walk to end of Claybrook and back, total a half mile. Tried jogging, no way.

Finished What Happened to Anna K.. Reasonably interesting despite being filled with characters for whom I had little sympathy. Soviet immigrants in Queens. I kept wondering if there were similarities in life experiences to orienteers of a similar background. Had me thinking about stopping in Queens sometime, having a look around, never really have.

Also finished The Angel's Game a couple of days ago. Enjoyed it quite a lot, even if the story was strange, just liked the writing and the characters. Might have to try his other book.

At some point I will have to add up the books I've read in the last year. I'd guess it's more than in the previous 30 years put together.

C • Russians in Queens 4

C • 2003 TT Middle control descriptions 2

Actually got a good night's sleep, but woke up this morning and my lower back was killing me, could only move around the house by holding on to things, could get my shoes on but not reach the laces to tie them. Took some pain stuff.

Figured I might be better in a while, kept Gail company on the trip back to NH for the Boulder Dash. We parked, slowly got out of the car, couldn't walk without holding on, wasn't going to get far that way. Spent 15 minutes trying to gently loosen up, but that didn't do any good. Settled in for a long lonely wait.

But then Rhonda came to the rescue, not with a miracle cure but a book for Gail (What Happened to Anna K., a modern version of Anna Karenina), which she pronounced to be weird and depressing. We chatted a bit, she took off, I launched into the book. I mean, if you know it is going to be weird and depressing, then that makes a big difference, you can read it with pleasure. Just a matter of managing one's expectations. Also helps if you have nothing else to do.

And so the morning passed quite pleasantly as long as I didn't try to move. A few folks stopped to chat. I heard stories of the depressing control #11. At some point I did my major training of the day, summoning my courage and walking very slowly over to the tress to pee, maybe 20 yards, but then it was out and back so really 40 yards, so not at all trivial.... :-)

And then eventually back home.

The day could have been much worse. Seriously.

I sure hope this goes away as fast as it appeared. At which point, if it happens, I can concentrate on my sore calf.

Boulder Dash, day 1 at Fox Forest. Rain, about 50. Green M, strange course.

Suffering. First my back was very sore, a real struggle just to run. And then about 10 minutes into the run my left calf started to complain. I've had calf issues before and they are not fun. Tried to adjust how I was striding but it seemed like it was just going to get worse, so I stopped. No point in making it worse. Hopefully I have a one week problem and not a one month problem.

Trying to loosen up.

Event: UNO Boulder Dash
 

Got my annual flu shot today. Been getting them for 15-20 years and haven't been sick in that time, flu or serious cold or whatever. There may be no cause and effect, but who cares, not going to stop now.

No swine flue shot. I'm old enough to be in a low risk group. Can't think of anything else I could say that about. Well, actually, now that I think about it, there is paternity.... :-)

No ibuprofen today. Hands very sore, legs feel fine but big toe still complaining. Tomorrow may be a struggle, though the odds are I'll pop a few pills. Seems like I'm reverting to being a weekend warrior. :-(

C • low risk 1

Medical report -- legs seem fine, except big toe is still sore, so I'm not sure how much running I will manage at the Boulder Dash. Fingers are worse than before yesterday's golf. I can't imagine a doctor saying that was a smart thing to have done, but it sure was fun. And getting some blood taken today, got to use my Medicare card for the first time.

All you young folks -- keep working hard. Got to make sure there is enough money in the system to pay the medical bills and social security of us old folks. :-)

A couple of photos of the Vermont trail, this one just slightly muddy. At times it was very dark in the forest, close to needing a light....



Every once in a while there were a couple of boards down so you wouldn't get your feet wet. Yeah, right....

C • Tax dollars at work 1

Ultra Tales, part 7 -- Another go at Wasatch

My records show that after the Pine Mountain 50 Mile in early April,1988, I was at it again in mid-May, though just a short one, the Doc Holliday 35 Mile in the mountains around Glenwood Springs, Colorado. It seems like a lot of traveling, but then I was one of three editors of Ultrarunning magazine, and we had plenty of room in the budget for travel, plus we needed to get around and meet people, plus of course it was all tax-deductible. The Doc Holliday was a fine course. The race director, I don't remember his first name, but his last name was Julich, said his son Bobby was a bike racer. I looked at dad, quite pudgy, figured like father like son, the son would probably never amount to much.... :-)

But the main event for the year was another attempt at Wasatch. It was attracting more people now, and a good number were finishing. The course had been changed some, mainly at the end, heading east to Midway over the last 10 or 15 miles instead of southwest to Alpine. Probably just a little easier for that part, but then in the middle of the course 6 miles of pavement were replaced by rough trail and the course was considered to be an hour slower. The course still had a reputation at the time as the toughest 100. Western States was the best known, Leadville had the altitude, Old Dominion in Virginia had the heat, but Wasatch was just mean. People were breaking 20 hours at the other ones, but not at Wasatch. I'd made it about 70 miles in 1982. Clearly I had to go back.

This time the goal was to be a little better prepared. The first part of preparation was training. The race was on September 10. I looked up what training I did in August (before a final taper) and found the following --

-- 13 days off. Most people would say, are you shitting me, you can't train seriously taking almost every other day off. But it depends on what you do on the other days.
-- Hardest week was the third week of August. 80 miles, about 16,000 feet climb in 4 days of running and 3 days off. Monday: an easy 90 minutes to the top of Toby and back. Tuesday: Fred's old 50K course from Northfield Mt. ski area to the top of Mt. Grace and back, 5:21 (felt good, my notes say). Wednesday: off. Thursday: Up and down Mt. Greylock twice, 18.4 miles, 5000', 3:28. Friday: off. Saturday: off. Sunday: Virgil Mt. Madness Trail Race in central New York, 21 miles, 3:03 (good race, ran hard, my notes say).
-- Thursday the following week (2 weeks before the race) was the last of the longer stuff, 5 times up and down Mt. Toby, 3:19.
-- Even the first and second weeks of August were pretty decent. The first week was 52 miles in 4 days, all hilly trails of course. The second week was 56 miles in 4 days, including 25 miles on the 50K course in 4:49 on day when it was over 90 and humid (lost 7 to 8 pounds, my notes say).
-- And all of this was in August. My notes for the second week say "Hot, humid all week -- terrible!"

So the first part of preparation was done. I felt as ready as I could be, plus I now had two successful 100-milers to look back on and draw a little confidence from. But there were still memories of the first time at Wasatch, and especially the difficulty in following the course.

So the second part of preparation was out there. Gail and I flew to Utah a week before the race so I would have a few days to check out the course. Sunday was the section from Brighton over Catherine Pass and down to American Fork, the trail hard to follow at times, and this was a section we would be doing at night. Monday up to Dog and Desolation lakes, another night section. And Tuesday the bushwhacking section early in the course along the Francis Peak ridge. Taking mental notes all the time.

And then 3 days of doing nothing, just resting, getting nervous of course. Because no matter how well you have prepared, you just never know what will happen.

Saturday, race morning, 5 am, dark, finally time to get going.

It had been 90 the day before, at the start at 5,000' it was still 75, but a front was coming through and by 8 am up on the ridge at 10,000' it was 50, overcast, and blowing hard. The temperature kept falling, thunderstorms moved through, by evening it was in the teens, occasional bits of snow, and blowing even harder.

I was delighted with the change in the weather, cold is always better than hot for me, and I made steady progress all day long, endlessly up and down through the high country and managing to miss the worst of the storms. Nighttime came, the high open ridge before Scott's Pass was bitterly cold, bless the people up there at the aid station and their hot coffee. Then came a new section up a steep section of the Solitude ski area and back down some steep trails to the ski lodge at Brighton. When I left there, I was farther than I'd made it before but still some 25 miles to go.

Up and over Catherine's Pass was next, hard to find the trail in the dark, was I ever glad I'd checked the trail out the week before. Someplace in here I remember one of my favorite ultra quotes running through my head, said by someone to describe the good progress he was making -- "I hammered up the trail, passing rocks and trees like they were standing still." :-)

Down to American Fork, another aid station, 15 miles to go, all dirt road now, daylight coming in another hour or so. Took in more supplies, but not any more caffeine, and by halfway up the long switch-backing climb I was falling asleep. Still moving, mind you, but falling asleep. Three or four times I suddenly woke up to find myself in the bushes along the side of the road. But kept moving, relentless forward progress as they say. The sky started to lighten as I hit the top of the last pass. I was surprised to see several people along the side of the road at this hour, including a guy on horseback, though they all seemed to turn into bushes as I got closer. I guess I was pretty tired.

One last forever downhill, quads still reasonably OK. A last aid station at 95 miles, they asked if I wanted to sit and rest a while. No, thanks, I remember saying, I just want to get this fucking thing over. Manners had disappeared along with any energy.

The last 4 miles were flat. Country road. Totally wasted. Wanted to get it over as soon as I could, but the best I could do was run to one phone pole, walk to the next, and just keep doing that. You can do that for a long time.

Two miles to go and I see a guy running toward me. He reached me, turned around, could he join me, he was a pacer and his runner was a DNF so he'd had nothing to do. Fine, I said, but I'm going real slow. And we started chatting and jogging to the next phone pole, and then a little more still jogging and still talking, and the next thing I knew there was the finish right in front of me and I had run the last two miles, no need to walk at all. It is amazing what the mind can do.

For all the notes I have about my training, my entry for September 10 is very terse -- "Wasatch 100 - 26:53!" I ended up 11th out of 55 finishers and 108 starters. And no need to run the race again. Though that was mainly because there were so many other cool courses out there that I still wanted to have a go at.

Up to the north country (NH) for a round with Mike Fritz. Totally enjoyable -- the golf, the company, the course. Despite numerous water hazards and woods, played the whole round with the same ball, no trivial accomplishment.

Both hands and big toe still complaining, but tolerable.

Perfect weather, 50F, overcast, windy, forecast was also for showers but was dry the whole time. Perfect because we had the course totally to ourselves.

Photos from Vermont. The first two are at about 12 miles, just over 2 hours in. The last two are at about 41 miles, about 8 hours in. Looks to me like in just 6 hours I have gotten significantly older and shorter (and also looking more like my dad and my older brother)....

C • You know, I'm going to emba... 11

Results from Sunday. Seems like I was 39th out of 118 finishers, 145 starters (plus another dozen who paid $100 to enter and didn't even start.

Found a few reports on the web. Some folks were miserable, a distinct minority seemed to enjoy it. Glad I was in the latter group. A positive attitude does wonders sometimes.

Legs are getting better. Only annoying part is bionic toe, didn't bother me at all during the run, but swollen and sore since then. Maybe a little improvement this afternoon. Hope it calms down soon as there is O' to be done this weekend (and a walk chasing the little white ball tomorrow).

C • A fine showing... 17