Saturday, July 9, 2016

Bighorn 100 Recap - June 2016

A more appropriate title for this post could be The Ecstasy of a Beatdown, which I lifted from the most recent issue of the American Alpine Club's annual journal.  It's the title of a short trip report of one of the AAC's members recounting his attempted traverse of a portion of the Brooks Range in Alaska. The title and this excerpt connected with me:
"This trip was the hardest thing we have ever done. And it was also the greatest thing we have ever done. It took us some time to realize those two ideas are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they are often synonymous, even if it's hard to see that when things go sour."

This post will end up on the long side, but hey, there's a lot to cover in 100 miles! This is my way of fully processing the experience, so I hope you can bear with me.


On June 17 and 18th, I competed in my first 100 mile foot race. I'd like to say it was a logical progression, having completed multiple Ironman distance triathlons, 50 milers and a 100 km race, but I'm anticipating the comments informing me that there is nothing logical about attempting to run 100 miles. The best I can offer is what I wrote a few months ago about why I'm drawn to these challenges.


The Bighorn 100 is run in the Bighorn National Forest in northern Wyoming each June. It starts and ends in the small town of Dayton, however a lot of the activities around the race like pre-race check-in and dinner, and post-race pancake breakfast and awards ceremony are held in the larger town of Sheridan, about 20 minutes away. Jennifer and I camped on the lawn of the Dayton Community Center and had access to the facilities of the center. It was the right decision, rather than getting a hotel in Sheridan. Dayton is a lovely town and the people were, without exception, extremely warm and welcoming. We love these races in small towns where it seems like the whole town is involved and welcome you with open arms. I bet these people are like this all the time to everyone.


Dayton, WY Hospitality

The 100 mile course is an out and back. 48 miles to the turnaround point, then go back the way you came, pass the start and go an additional five miles into the finish in the town park in Dayton. The 11:00 am start time is different, as most races start very early in the morning. Personally, I like it...it's warm at the start, so you're pretty much dressed for the day, no 3am wake-up and theoretically you're fresher going into the night, as it comes sooner.

My Course Cheat Sheet Mashup: Elevation Graph with Aid Stations and Estimated & Actual Times

The Lead Up

I'm sure there are some people who just show up to these events and go, but that's generally not the case with these long-distance challenges. Of course, there are months of physical training that are absolutely required, but there is also a litany of other preparations that have to occur in order to be appropriately prepared to run and support a runner in a 100 mile race.

Jennifer started over a month out by researching the right USGS Quadrangle maps to order. Easier said than done, as she had to reach out to multiple Park Rangers around the Bighorn forest, but she finally found a fellow maps guru who pointed her in the right direction. Once received, she spent hours drawing the course and charting her car route to access all of the crewable aid stations on these detailed topographical maps.


Wife Coach, Lead Planner, Energy Food Chef, Crew Chief AND Cartographer

Then, in the week leading up to the race, the big organizational and packing activities go into high gear. Food, clothing, drop bags, crew bags, estimated times between aid stations, travel routes all have to be figured out and Jennifer takes on the brunt of those responsibilities for me. It's also the week where I am making an effort to get as much rest as possible. Jenn was always on the lookout for foods that would be appealing to me, even in later stages of the race, when it can get very difficult to eat and I'm done with sweet stuff. Fritos and Pringles are a standby, along with some homemade energy bars, and new this race were Sour Patch Kids. Whatever it takes to get calories in.


Race food (not one gel)

I'll burn somewhere on the order of 18,000 calories over the course of the race, so fueling is critical. Interestingly, we're looking for foods that are the direct opposite of what we want to eat in daily life. We want foods that are calorically dense, so they come in a small, easy to carry and consume size and don't fill you up. Justin's Nut Butter packets are just about perfect and I was able to down many of them this race.

We drove the 500 miles to Dayton, WY on Wednesday to make sure we had a relaxed couple days. It also gave us time do dry runs to the Start and two of the three aid stations where Jenn would see me five times throughout the race, as well as do some sightseeing along the way. It's a beautiful area!


Visiting the site of the Dry Fork Aid Station
Purple Haze in the High Alpine
All Quiet at the Start Line the Day Before

 

Race Start to Dry Fork Aid 1: Miles 0-13.5

We drove to the race start on a dirt road alongside the Tongue River at about 10:00 for the 11:00am start. It was crowded with 318 starters, plus all of their family, friends and crew.


We Are Ready

100 milers generally require a pretty experienced field, so there wasn't too much in the way of extraneous high energy at the start line and right at 11:00, we started on this beautiful day.


Minutes Before the Start


Amazingly I Didn't Get Tripped Up


And We're Off...Up Into the Canyon

After a little over a mile on the dirt road, we get onto a single track trail that will take us up 3500' in the first 6 miles. It's a long climb, but climbing is my strength. About 5 miles in, I had my first concern of the day...a hot spot on the back of my right ankle. I don't generally have blister problems, so I let it go for a few minutes, but it didn't improve. So I stepped off the trail and sat down in the brush to tighten my shoe, hoping for a quick fix. It wasn't to be. So I stepped off the trail again, took off my pack and got out some anti-blister lube, took off my gaiter and shoe and saw that the skin had already started to blister. I applied lube, redressed and was off again, trying not to worry about this issue which I'd somehow have to manage over the next 95 miles.

At mile 8.5, there is an aid station, where I topped off my water, grabbed some watermelon and for the first time in my racing experience, but not the last time in this race, checked in with the medic. Fortunately, he had duct tape and Vaseline, which he applied to my blistered right ankle and sent me off with smiles and well wishes. This was just the beginning of my challenges, but fortunately things didn't get much worse, at least as far as I was aware, for many miles and hours.

With the first big climb done, we had a short steep descent to some generally rolling terrain that was largely runnable. I spent a good amount of this section running with a 51 year-old Army Colonel and veteran of many ultra marathon races. He took the patient approach all day and ended up finishing in an impressive 28 hours, which he had predicted. This guy's seen a lot as a medic in Iraq during heavy combat and I learned all I could from his approach to this race and it helped the miles pass by for a while. He also utilized his Army Colonel voice to yell at me when I missed a turn when I was about 100 feet ahead of him. Thank You Sir!! Soon enough, though my mind was on getting to mile 13.5 and the Dry Fork aid station, where I'd see Jennifer.

Crew Chief Tracker
This was also the beginning of Jennifer's ultra marathon of crewing, 31 hours straight. From the start, it was about a 38 mile and 1.5 hour drive to the Dry Fork aid station.


Dry Fork Aid 1 to Footbridge Aid 1: Miles 13.5-30

I reached Jennifer at Dry Fork in about 3 hours, which was about 30 minutes ahead of my optimistic estimate and feeling good, except for the concern about my blister. It was a quick, maybe 3 minute stop to take in a some food and down a Coke and get moving down the Dry Fork drainage about 1000'.


Dry Fork Aid Station


Raising the Roof Coming In to Dry Fork

About 4 miles out of Dry Fork, I ran into a bit of gastro-intestinal "instability" which slowed me down for maybe an hour, but I was then able to regain my pace on the rolling, then generally descending route to the next major aid station, Footbridge.

Crew Chief Tracker
Next, Jennifer had to drive all the way back the way she came and then go north, actually getting into Montana for a few miles, before heading down a moderately rough 4WD road with a couple of minor stream crossings, then walk about 3/4 of a mile to the Footbridge aid station with all my supplies in tow.
This segment: 80 miles, 2 hours

Footbridge to Jaws Aid Turnaround: Miles 30-48

I arrived at Footbridge to Jennifer cheering me on at about 5:50pm, 20 minutes ahead of my optimistic estimate and feeling strong, but still a little concerned about my blister.


Coming In Strong to Footbridge Aid

One of the top priorities I had coming into this race was to approach it as an eating and drinking contest and stay as well fueled and hydrated as possible. I carried a 2 liter water bladder in my race vest and I topped it off at almost every one of the 28 aid stations on the course. I also took an electrolyte capsule every hour to replace salts lost from sweat. It was a hot race, with very little cloud cover and daytime temps in the 80s and maybe hitting 90 on Saturday.

I was also eating something just about any time I thought about it. This is critical in any race more than a couple hours, and more critical the longer you go. Based on physiological testing I had done back in March at CU Boulder, I knew that I'd be burning around 600 to 800+ calories per hour of almost an even distribution of fat and carbohydrates. Also knowing that the body can only metabolize about 300 calories of carbohydrates an hour, I'd barely be keeping up on the carb front and I was relying on burning internal fat stores, as well.


My Fat and Carb Oxidation Profile at Increasing Heart Rates

I also wore my heart rate monitor for most of the race to make sure I stayed mostly in my sweet spot at or below 151 beats per minute. This is where my fat burn is maximized - represented by the purple bars in the above graph. Important, because even lean people have 10s of thousands of calories in fat stores...might as well make use of them. Bottom line is I needed to eat, and I ate.

I spent 17 minutes at Footbridge, mostly to get medical attention on my blister, eat and drink what Jennifer offered me, switch packs to one with more capacity for extra clothes as nighttime approached, don my headlamp and finally, grab my hiking poles, which I'd use for the remainder of the race.

Footbridge is also where a lot of people drop. Of the 318 starters, 86 (27%) had dropped by this point and of these, around 45 of them had come into Footbridge but did not continue.

The next segment is an 18 mile, 5000' ascent up to the Jaws (also known as Porcupine) Aid Station at about 9000' elevation is generally considered the crux of the route. My trip to Jaws went as well as I could have hoped. My newly re-patched blister wasn't too painful, I didn't hit much in the way of mud or water until just before Jaws and the thunderstorm that passed very close only spit graupel and some big raindrops on me for a few minutes around 9pm. Plus it stayed warm enough for me to stay in short sleeves and no gloves. Sunset was glorious in this wilderness and amplified by the repeated lightning in the clouds from the departing storm.


Jenn's view of the sunset storm on her way from Footbridge to Jaws

I made every effort to not get lost in my own bubble and look around at my surroundings as much as possible, even after things got bad. My headlamp went on at about 9:45pm and I rolled into the Jaws Aid tent at around 11:17pm, 10 minutes ahead of my optimistic estimate.


Maybe a little delirious, but apparently happy arriving at Jaws Aid

Looking at this picture now and how I was standing, it's apparent that I was starting to feel some discomfort in my right ankle, but it wasn't a serious concern at the time. It wouldn't be long before it got my full attention.

Coming into major aid stations in the middle of the night is a surreal experience. After spending hours in the dark, with just a headlamp to light the way and generally alone, you come into an area with lots of activity and energy and comforts, like your very own folding chair! The aid was set up in a big (probably 20' x 50') tent, like what they set up at outdoor weddings in case it rains. There are heaters and hot food and it's jam-packed with competitors in various states (some on cots and wrapped in thermal blankets), crew people and volunteers. It's a big blur coming in, but Jenn just grabbed me by the hand and led me through the crowded tent to the little spot she made for me and gave me a Coke and laid out the food choices. Pringles were good, I had half an avocado, probably some candy and I ate half my tofurkey, Swiss and mustard wrap while we spoke. I do remember rolling my left ankle around a bit, as I was starting to realize it was a bit sore and stiff. I figured I landed awkwardly on it at some point. It's inevitable.

One of the volunteers made a point of telling me that he had been observing Jennifer's preparations for me to arrive with awe. He'd never seen a more organized and comprehensive crewing display. Man, I look forward to seeing her during these races!


My wife coach ready to send me back out into the night

At about 11:38pm, after 21 minutes in the aid station, I headed out to begin the second half of the race by descending the 5000' back to Footbridge. I was feeling confident heading out. I felt I had been smart with my pace, fueling and hydration the first half and was feeling good...until I hit the descent.

Crew Chief Tracker
This segment: 93 miles, 2.5 hours

Jaws to Footbridge 2 Aid: Miles 48-66

This is where things really went sideways on me. As soon as I began descending, I felt the pain above my right ankle with every step. What I'd hoped would be a faster 18 miles down than up, ended up being much slower. There was no running on any downward-sloping terrain and in the dark I caught many rocks with my foot, inducing a painful strain on my injury. And there seemed to be way more rocks on the way down than I noticed on the way up. It was a pretty full moon night though, and I tried to soak it in as much as I could. Being out in the middle of this wilderness in the middle of the night is a special experience.

In the hours I had to think, I was wondering how I was going to continue with the ankle getting worse and worse and with very painful blisters forming on my left foot due to the change in my gate from my injury.


Footbridge Aid at night - You can see the headlamp of an arriving runner in the middle

I finally hobbled into Footbridge at about 5:45am in a much different state than I had almost 12 hours prior.


Arriving at Footboridge 2 - Pained & Concerned

At this point, I was a little more than an hour and a quarter behind my optimistic projection, but still almost an hour ahead of my conservative estimate. Jennifer suspected something was wrong, as she had been expecting me for a while and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw my face. No more raising the roof from here on out. In the 46 minutes I spent in this aid station, the medic drained and bandaged several blisters on my left foot and took a look at my ankle, while Jenn tended to my other needs, like getting me a amazing freshly made Egg McMuffin (hold the Canadian Bacon), a nut butter, a cup of hot coffee and a Red Bull. I also changed into fresh socks, calf sleeves, shoes and shirt. Jenn also worked on getting my emotions pointed back in a positive direction. At this point, I didn't understand what was going on with my ankle and I had become disappointed at the idea that perhaps I had fatigued some important muscles by not running a smart strategy.

This was the most critical juncture for me as it required some thinking about whether was smart to proceed from an injury perspective, or drop. I had plenty of time to finish within the 34 hour limit and my ankle and blister problems, although very painful, were not likely a threat to my long-term health. So I don't think I seriously considered dropping, but I know I didn't have a clear vision of how I was going to be able to get through the next 36 miles. Lesson One of any endurance activity is not to get ahead of yourself, be in the moment and literally take one step at a time. I also thought about how much time and effort I'd put into getting to this point and how shitty I'd feel in the car driving out from that aid station, having given up. At 6:30am, armed with fresh shoes, socks and calf sleeves, patched up feet, my music and a fresh resolve, I headed out.


Embarking on an Uncertain Journey

Crew Chief Tracker
This segment: 93 miles 2.5 hours 
It's worthwhile noting that there was only one other crew person in addition to Jennifer who met her runner at every aid station, including twice at the remote Footbridge Aid. My crew chief rocks!

 

Footbridge 2 to Dry Fork 2: Miles 66-84.5

The good news for me coming out of Footbridge 2 is that there is an immediate 2500' climb, which allowed me to get back into a less painful movement and make relatively good time for a few hours. The methodical pace of climbing also gave me time to collect my thoughts, tap into positive energy from my music and the people sending me their love and support. I knew there were some big downhills coming, but I'd take them on as they came. For this section, I'd just enjoy the time powering uphill.

I actually passed several competitors on these uphills, but the downhills were increasingly painful, both from my right ankle and from the blisters which were continuing to take over all parts of my left foot. About halfway through this segment, the 100 mile course joins up with the 18 and 32 mile courses, which were being run that Saturday, so those competitors started intermingling with us. It was good to have more distractions and many of them said very nice things as they passed by or ran/walked with me, understanding that we were a long way into our race experience by that time.

By this time there was no more passing people for me. I was getting repeatedly passed by other 100 milers and also leaders of the 50 mile race, which began at Jaws at 6:00am, when I was 18 miles ahead at Footbridge.

Crew Chief Tracker
This segment: 80 miles, 2.5 hours

Dry Fork 2 to The Finish: Miles 84.5-100

I arrived at Dry Fork 2 at around noon on Saturday. It was crowded with competitors from all four distances using the aid station this go-round, but of course, Jennifer had a seat waiting for me with my supplies laid out next to it. When I vacated it for a few minutes to visit the port-o-john, another competitor had taken my seat and when Jennifer told him the seat was taken his snide remark about having to make reservations was not taken to kindly by Jennifer and he found another seat. It's best not to cross her when she's looking after me!

Hobbled but Happy to be Arriving at Dry Fork 2

Not that it mattered anymore, but I was now 10 minutes later than my conservative time estimate. After 27 minutes of of eating, drinking and getting my ankle looked at by the medic, I was off on the final 15.5 mile segment of the race.


Embarking on the Final Segment

I was able to trot along the dirt road, which was flat to gently ascending for a couple of miles. My spirits were buoyed by the knowledge that I was still 4+ hours ahead of the time cutoffs, so I almost certainly was going to finish my first 100 mile race, but I still had a long way to go. I wasn't eating much at this point, other than some energy chomps, but knew I was burning less calories with my slower pace and felt confident I would not bonk. Hydration remained a top priority, however, as I was going into the hottest part of the day with no cloud cover and temps getting into the low 90s.

The final descent was brutal. It felt like being in a solar cooker in the descending valley with high ridges on both sides and getting baked by the sun from all sides. At one of the final aid stations before the trailhead and the final road section, in addition to potable water, they were offering dousings with cold Tongue River water. A welcome brief chill that I happily accepted.

At long last, I reached the road, where I'd started about 28 hours ago and Jennifer was waiting on her mountain bike.


Final Few Feet of Trail Before the Road

My intent was to run the road, as much as possible, but my ankle pain and the big blister on the bottom of my left foot was just too painful to do so. Jennifer was tirelessly (she'd been up for almost 36 hours at this point too) trying to divert my attention from the pain with small talk, but it was tough to break through.

Jenn Doing Her Best to Pull Me Along on the Last Five Miles

Slow as it was, each step brought me closer to the finish, but there was one more painful jolt. Just as I was about to enter the park and the finish in Dayton, the huge blister on the bottom of my left foot burst, feeling like my foot had been lit on fire. The new, searing pain was soon forgotten, though, as I saw the Finish!

Yes! 

Final time 30 hours 47 minutes. 106th place of 318 starters and 173 finishers (54% finisher rate).

So Happy to be Finished!

Crew Chief Tracker
This segment: 38 miles, 2.5 hours
Total Crew Chief Miles: 422 miles


Final Thoughts

I'm extremely happy to have finished a 100 mile race in my first attempt. I am proud that I was able to persevere for a long time and not get derailed by several significant problems to accomplish it. A few weeks have allowed it to settle in, and Jennifer and I have debriefed about our separate and shared experiences of the race. We've celebrated and have had emotions well up unexpectedly. It's interesting to me that feelings of wanting to do this again have come back so quickly. I find it hard to explain, but I suspect one reason is that I feel that I left something on the table in this race, due to my injuries. I feel that I prepared well and approached the race with a sound strategy and was disciplined in my execution, but unexpected things happened along the way that slowed me down. At the half way point, I was on a pace for a sub-26 hour finish and feeling very strong and the first half is generally considered the harder part of this race. But then I ran into problems.

In a 100 mile race, there are just so many opportunities for things to go awry. The challenge is how they are dealt with, how you adjust your approach and expectations, and just persevere and keep relentlessly moving forward. Even when things were at their worst, I had enough experience to know that there are ebs and flows of the suck and I could call upon tactics to improve my spirits, even just a little. I managed to smile even when the pain was really bad. I looked around and felt fortunate to be where I was with the freedom to take on this challenge of my own choosing and learn a lot about what I'm really capable of. I chatted with others, learned from them, took the encouragement of the runners in the shorter distances. One woman passed by said she was in awe of us running the 100 and felt like she was running with royalty. An overstatement to be sure, but I got it, as I've been in the exact same position. I was moved and it helped me embrace the pain more and feel energized, proud and kind of badass.

Surely this is TMI for some, but I do want to share the good, bad and in the case, the very ugly of the things I do for those who are interested. So I'll spare those who would rather not be exposed to how gnarly my feet looked by just putting links here. For those who are interested, enjoy this post-race journey of my feet and ankle:
On Thursday after the race, I went to an ankle and foot orthopedist who diagnosed a severe case of tendonitis in my right ankle and he put me in a walking boot for two weeks along with physical therapy, which involved massage to move out the swelling and a prescribed electrically-stimulated topical steroids and no running whatsoever.

Sidelined and Booted

He diagnosed my right ankle injury not as a high ankle sprain, as I had suspected, but as severe tendonitis of the tendons on the front of the ankle that control ankle and toe flexion. Now, two weeks later, this is my hypothesis of what went wrong...
It all started 4.5-5 miles in, with the blister on the back of my right ankle. From that point on, I was purposely trying to minimize heel lift on that foot, thereby putting long-term additional stress on the two tendons running up the front of that ankle that control lifting the foot and the toes. That led to the tendonitis. The pain of the tendonitis caused a limp ,which put more stress on my left foot, which led to the blisters on that foot. I don't have a clear understanding of what caused the original blister, but it seems that led to all of the other issues.

I generally don't have chafing or blister issues, but in retrospect, some pre-race Body Glide, or even Vaseline on the feet may have eliminated the blister and all of the subsequent problems. No regrets...lesson learned. 

Thank you to everyone who supported me leading up to and during the race and especially to Jennifer, who took on so much to make sure I had EVERYTHING I needed in terms of supplies, guidance and love before, during and after the race. It's a huge burden to take on, but sharing these experiences as a team is maybe the best part. 

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

A Bighorn 100 Thank You

I'm not sure how to begin other than saying THANK YOU. Thank you all who took the time and energy to share a part, no matter how brief, or if you followed all of Jennifer's posts leading up to, during and following our experience getting me through to the finish line in the Bighorn 100. If you peeked in any time on Saturday, you know I had some struggles for many hours and miles. I needed help. I was emotional and as close to broken as I've ever been. Sitting in the aid station at mile 66 at 6am on Saturday with a medic tending to my feet and Jennifer tending to everything else, she kept telling me how many of you were following, cheering me on, and sending love and energy.

When I finally left the aid station after 45 minutes of care and THE BEST Egg McMuffin (no Canadian bacon please) I’ve EVER had, I had a 1000' climb in front of me. That's actually good news for me, as climbing is my strength on good days and on this day with my high ankle sprain making descending very painful and slow, it gave me some relatively pain free time to collect myself, put my situation in some type of perspective and focus on what I needed to keep moving forward. It was then that I felt the power from all of your support that convinced my logical mind, as well as the spiritual part of me, that there was no doubt I was going to finish this thing. Logically, I knew I was not going to give up, short of some serious medical condition. I know you’re all kind and care for me and would not want to put a burden on me, but in some way, I'd be letting you down if I just quit because of pain and frustration that my goal time was not going to happen. Spiritually, at that moment, pushing up that hill, I opened up somehow to receive your energy, maybe for the first time. Maybe that only happens when you need it most. Dunno, but I accepted it.

So, when the trail leveled out a bit, I started trotting along again and soon, I was able to open up my stride for the first time in many miles and started putting down a handful of miles at the best pace I'd been able to manage since the previous day. Soon enough the trail forced me to slow down and pain got worse, but it was a great confidence-builder and was a significant time in my race experience. And I thank you for being there with me!

I've a lot still to process about this experience and will be sharing my full experience in a subsequent post in the coming week or so.

A couple final thoughts...I love sharing my experiences, but have also found that I have mixed feelings when sharing them. They are big things, I know, but they are almost purely selfish endeavors. I always like when some good for someone else can come out of it in any form. This go-round, my sister-in-law, Amanda, took care of that by starting a small family text communication asking for estimates of my finishing time and with each guess, a pledge to donate any amount to the charity of my choice. I’m very happy to report that over $400 has been pledged to www.thejuniperfund.org as a result of this! Thanks A!

And finally, one image that I’ll always remember is at the very start of the race, I noticed one male runner with one word written in block letters on the back of each calf – “FUCK” & “CANCER”. My pain was a pittance.


Friday, June 17, 2016

Bighorn 100 Tracking

I set out in the Bighorn 100 mile trail race today at 11:00am MT. If you're interested in checking in on my progress, download the ityourrace app, or go to the following URL

My number is 159.

Here's a sample of the scenery I'll be going through.








Monday, May 30, 2016

Ironman Triathlon Recap - May 2016

I had a strong start and a strong finish in the full Ironman distance triathlon I competed in this past Saturday in Loma, Colorado, just west of Grand Junction, on the Utah border. Unfortunately, I only sustained my strong start in the 2.4 mile swim for about 1.6 minutes and the 112 mile bike was largely spent battling the relentless winds on my non-aero 18 year-old trusty steed of a bike. Redemption in the form of a 5th place overall finish came through perseverance and a strong run. 

I had reasons to feel good going into this race, which I also ran in 2014. I had been running consistently through the winter and had been sticking largely to my training plan starting in February, despite a heavy load of business travel every week in the month prior, including the week of the race. I had put in my training time in the pool and was swimming strong. Jennifer and I had been able to invest time to get out on the bike and run courses over the preceding month. I had made significant changes in my race fueling strategy over the past 2 years and I feel I am just a better runner than I was 2 years ago. So, I felt relaxed and confident standing on the beach at Highline Lake with about 200 other competitors (only about 45 of us were doing the Full 2.4 mile swim / 112 mile bike / 26.2 mile run, the rest were doing the Half distance) awaiting the countdown to the start of a long day.

That's me
There were some challenges I dealt with, however. My travel schedule limited my pool time in the final week before the race. Swimming is a tough discipline due to the fact that it affects your breathing pattern and I've found that I need to swim regularly to keep my breathing trained and in control. If I don't swim for just a week it takes me 20 minutes to get it back under control in my next training session. Well, I hadn’t swum (swam?) for a week going into the race and I hadn’t practiced in my rental wetsuit, which only arrived the weekend prior. A triathlon wetsuit has added buoancy in key areas to put you in the most efficient swim position (generally higher in the water from hips to feet) to be significantly faster in the water and it's also skin tight. I suspect that the combination of this different body position, the snugness of the suit, the fact that I hadn't swum for a week and the added excitement of race day set me up for some breathing challenges. You may see where this is headed…

The Swim
Fortunately, Jennifer got some great video of me at the start, looking strong and controlled in my first few dozen strokes off the beach. I’m thankful that’s she stopped filming before minute 1.7, which is approximately when the wheels fell off and stayed off for the next ~18.3 long minutes. I was hyperventilating and could not control my breath, no matter how hard I tried. Jennifer saw me stop my freestyle stroke and shift between the slower lifesaving and breast strokes and the even slower non-stroke to keep my head above water in efforts to regain a controlled breathing cadence. She also saw several competitors get pulled out of the water onto the nearby rescue boat, ending their races way too early. At least I was not the only one dealing with some level of panic.

My mind raced with rapid-fire doubts, nipping away at my confidence, and there were some adult words thrown around as I chattered to myself, but by-and-large I did continue forward progress. When I managed a peek at my watch, it showed that my pace, although slower than it should have been, wasn’t too far off. I also had presence of mind to sight the course buoys to ensure I was on-course and swimming pretty straight and on-course. I also took advantage of the unplanned time with my head above water to look around to see if I was dead-last and if the rescue boat was coming for me, because surely I looked like I was about to drown. The good news that the rescue boat was occupied elsewhere and that I was miraculously still in the lead third of the competitors, helped me get through these crazy first 20 minutes.

Eventually, I found that I was able to maintain my freestyle stroke and establish my breathing rhythm. At the halfway point at 1.2 miles, the half distance competitors exit the water and those of us in the full distance race, step out of the water, touch a big yellow buoy and re-enter the water to begin our second lap of the course. 

Halfway - Time to touch the big yellow buoy
Last time I did this race, I completed the swim in 1hr 18min. When I glanced at my watch this time at the halfway point, 33 minutes had elapsed. Holy crap, I was ahead of schedule! This truly was a turnaround moment. The second lap was smooth sailing. I started out pretty much by myself as I reentered the water, with fewer people in the water and a group of 6 or so competitors maybe 50 yards ahead of me. I used this as incentive to not let the distance to that group grow. Soon enough I observed that distance actually shrinking and I actually got into a competitive race state of mind. In 2014, my primary goal was finishing. Today, I started out with a goal of improving my time, but now, just 35 minutes in, I was gaining on the leaders and was having fun racing. On the final 50 yards to shore, I had passed several in the group that was ahead of me and exited the water in the middle of that group. I had the 4th fastest swim time of just under 1hr 6min. Twelve minutes in the bag, ahead of last time. I couldn’t believe it!

In the pre-race meeting the organizers had promised that there would be strippers to help us peel off our wetsuits when we exited the water. As I exited the water, all I came across was a guy in shorts and a bright yellow shirt. Mildly disappointed, I took a pass and started getting out of my wetsuit on my own as I ran to the transition area to get ready for the bike. Bygones...

Self-service wetsuit removal
The Bike
I guess I took my time a bit in T1, exiting in 6min 51sec, but I was also consciously focusing on not rushing, but rather being methodical and taking care of my essentials in the transitions. I had a Red Bull and a packet of Justin's nut butter, which does take a little time to get down. Jennifer was smart, encouraging and purposefully brief in her words to me as I drank, ate and dressed for the bike. She saw and understood what I'd gone through in the swim, but I needed to tell her about it anyway.

Transition 1 (T1)
I've learned that the bike segment is where strategy and experience really come into play. It's long, arduous and mostly boring, but unlike the swim and run, rarely a point where people drop out. What you do in terms of exertion and fueling over the course of the next 5-7 hours can, however, set you up for success or failure on the run. The strategy was to maximize fueling and hydration on the bike, and this time with all solid food. No gels this time, which I believe contributed to stomach upset last time. So off I went with the goal of consuming all the candy, Jenn's homemade energy bars, energy chomps and Fritos I had stuffed in packs on my bike and in my shirt pockets. I also took a salt capsule every hour to maintain my electrolytes to aid cell hydration.

Some of the Food I Carried
Coming out of the craziness of the swim, the early part of the bike is a time to collect thoughts and hopefully settle in to a rhythm that will bring you through the next 6+ hours. The latter parts of the bike segment are marked by a painful saddle, neck and shoulders, weariness of the monotony of hours of looking at your feet and the ground and a general longing for it to be over.

The course is a 56 mile kind of west-facing “Y” with two lonely out and backs on the top portions of the “Y”. The full distance competitors will do the entire course twice. Winds out of the SSE ad SSW were brutal, as forecasted.

NO Escape from the Winds
I was surprised how many half distance competitors I passed early on, and even though I knew it didn’t count for anything, gave me the feeling that I was riding a good pace. The out and backs help give an idea of where you are in the pack because you get to see those who are ahead of you as they come back toward you after they hit a turn around that you are heading to. You can also see how far other competitors are behind you after you make the turn. On one of the long uphills, I was surprised and ticked off to get passed. It did give me motivation and a target though, and I regained my position by re-passing him on the long downhill, when he was coasting.

I sensed I was at least in the top 10 as I completed the first lap in a disappointing 3hrs 13min. I had been pushing consistently hard and was tucked on my aero bars as much as I could, but was basically on pace to match my time from 2014. 

Trying to Hide From the Wind
Not long out of the turnaround I was passed like I was standing still heading into the wind by two riders in rapid succession. I tried to keep them in view, but they were just too fast on their aerodynamic triathlon bikes. For the rest of the ride, I was pretty much by myself. Every once in a while, I’d peek back to see if anyone was creeping up and a few times I saw the bright green helmet of the guy who passed on the first lap uphill, so I pressed harder for a while to increase separation and also to not give him any encouragement that he could catch me.

In the end, I completed the bike in a mediocre 6hrs 43min, which was 8th fastest, but the leaders were all coming in at 5 1/2 hrs or less, so I was way off their pace. 

The Run
Disappointed, but not terribly surprised by my bike time, I had a decent T2 of 3min 38sec, downed another Red Bull and Justin's nut butter and headed out for the marathon feeling strong. The run course had been modified from 2 out and backs to 4 shorter out and backs. When this was announced at the pre-race meeting the previous afternoon, people groaned because they knew it meant that the hills early in the course would be repeated not twice, but four times, almost doubling the total ascent of the original course. Jennifer and I looked at each other happily knowing that this should play to my strength on hills. It’s what I train for. We also knew it would be especially devastating to those who would run out of gas and bonk on the run due to the cumulative exhaustion, inadequate fueling/hydration and mid-afternoon heat. A final benefit is that it would enable me to see Jennifer at the start of each 6.5 mile / 10 km lap, hopefully about once an hour if I kept on my goal pace of somewhere around 4+ hours. 

Exiting T2 to Begin the Marathon
On this run, all things indeed played out in my favor, as I’d hoped. Jennifer figured that I started the run in 10th place. My objective was to run the whole thing, no walking, keep pressing until the end. Even a slow running pace is generally faster than walking. Plus, I wanted to win the mental game by outwardly displaying strength during this segment to other competitors in front of me whose confidence might be waning. After my first bathroom pit stop of the day, I was off, feeling strong on my feet and enjoying not being on the bike and taking in the beautiful scenery of the Grand Valley. I carried a small handheld water bottle that was key in efficiently maintaining my hydration. I would sip on it between the aid stations that were about 1.5-2 miles apart and do a quick refill at each station.

By the second lap, I knew I was gaining on people who had come in ahead of me on the bike. I had one young guy who passed me like I was standing still on the bike as a target, and with the turnarounds, I sensed I was closing the gap on him. He was my rabbit and by the third lap, I saw him walking periodically up ahead. I kept going at my steady pace, averaging ~10 minute miles moving and 10:30 overall, including my aid station stops. At the halfway point of the 3rd lap, I passed him and another guy at the same time. I thought this had gotten me up to 6th place, but I couldn’t be sure. 

Throughout the run, I made a conscious effort to look around, enjoy the day, be thankful for this experience and encourage and joke with the other runners. It kept my spirits high and I think kept them wondering about what the heck was up with this guy, still apparently having fun at this stage when every single one of them was profoundly suffering. I was able to do this because I ate, ate, ate and ate some more on the bike, I had put in the hard training over the months leading up to the race and I had the huge benefit of Jennifer meeting me four times at the beginning of each lap to make sure I put down just a bit more high potency food at each turnaround to keep me strong through the run. I also had the experience to know that I could push for longer than I thought I could last time I did this race.

I ended up with 4hr 35min run, was good for the second fastest run time, just 13 minutes behind the overall winner’s run. As I crossed the finish, Jennifer told me I came in 5th overall in 12 hrs 35 minutes. Starting the run in 10th and finishing 5th was a happy surprise, as you can see by the look on my face.

Happy at the Finish!
Post Mortem
I've always been impressed with racers who have the discipline to smartly manage their race such that they hang tough most of the way, but excel in the later stages, when most are faltering. For the past few years that I’ve been doing endurance racing, I’ve strived to achieve this type of outcome and this was the first time I feel that I did it. I’m very proud of this and the memories of it are still sinking in. I’m also supremely proud of and thankful for the teamwork that Jennifer and I have, especially on race day, when she's out on the course clanging a cowbell every time I go past, blasting high energy music from the Jeep riding alongside me, posting updates for friends and family via text and Facebook all day long, making sure I'm executing my race plan and ensuring I have all my bits and pieces when I transition to the next race segment. This was not the first time more than one person came up to her amazed at what she does for me and asking about what she’s feeding me out of that little cooler she was carrying around. They didn't know that what they saw was just a small glimpse of the support Jennifer gives me to do these things on race-day, the months before and after. 

5th Place Team
I also want thank my "medical team" who helped me get through an issue I had with my hamstring in the 2 weeks leading up to the race. When I felt some tightness in my hamstring, I got a little panicked and sought the advice of several experts that I trust and no fewer than 3 local physical therapists. My first call was to Canada to consult with my friend Dr. Rob Casserley, who diaganosed my issue as a facial tear in the shealthing of one of the hamstring muscles. In the end, he nailed it. I cannot thank Cybil Kendrick enough for taking me on mutiple appointments outside of her normal working hours, one at her home, working around my trips to Denver airport. Her expertise in both western sports therapy and Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) is rare and I trust her implicitly. Her accupuncture and massage treatments set me back on track and I had no discomfort during the race or since. Also, Ami at Axis Sports Medicine in Silverthorne, who helped me out with thoutful diagnosis of the facial tear, physical manipulation and a colorful k-tape of the hamstring area that lasted though the race. Post-race, I got to see Matthew Copper, who specializes in rolfing, which is a therapeutic discipline focusing on fascia tissue and his expert opinion is that it is indeed a partial tear of the fascia.

Finally, thanks to everyone who cheered me on from afar via text and social media. As a small event, there are no cheering crowds, other than Jennifer with her cowbell, so this would be an all guts, no glory event without your cheering and humor.

For You Pop. RIP
Next up, the Bighorn 100 Trail Run on June 17 in northern Wyoming. So after a week of recovery, it's back out to the trails to get some hillwork in in the next couple of weeks. It'll be my first attempt at a 100 miler. Wish me luck!

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Juniper Fund Update - One Year Later


April 25, marked the one-year anniversary of the first devastating earthquake in Nepal that we were so fotunate to miss by a matter of days.

For those of you who supported our fundraising through The Juniper Fund in support of three Sherpa famlies who lost their fathers/husbands at Everest Basecamp, we thought you would be interested in this update from the organization about some new initiatives they are incorporating into their support and rehabilitation services.

Once again, thank you for your support of our efforts to help the people of Nepal who were affected by the natural disaster last year and please keep The Juniper Fund in your thoughts when considering where to contribute future charitable donations. There is still a lot of work to be done.

Sincerely,
Jennifer & John