I Did Not DNF

16 days shy of my 66th birthday, I completed the Highlands Sky 40M Trail Run.  I can unequivocally say it was the most physically challenging thing I've ever done. 

                                                                  I wondered if I would
                                                                                        ever see the finish line.

Those of you who have followed my blog from late winter through race day, know I was terribly worried over cut times through the aid stations.  During the first trainer, I hit the FS Road after 10 Bridges in 5:50.  Even though we didn't push it during the trainer, that time planted just the seed of doubt I needed to worry.  I knew I had left minutes out on the trail, while trying to clear small limbs and such from the trail, but I really was concerned about making Aid Station 4 in the allotted time.  I was really hung up on AS4.

June 16 dawned clear and cool at the Lanesville ranger cabin.  Typical pre-race scene:  lots of energy, runners making last minute checks of fluids/nutrition, lathering on Glide, all the usual.  Dan Lehman was working his butt off trying to get everyone checked in.  Then, without a lot of fanfare, the entire race field was off.  I purposely lurked at the back of the pack, 'cause I was gonna run my race and not someone else's.  I thought the pace was a little fast going up the Red Creek Road, but didn't try to keep up with the main group.  There were 5 or 6 of us running together when we hit AS1 and the pace seemed OK.  (Hollis Lipscom, one of my ER nurses was working as a medic.  His wife Jen is a runner and I believe this was Jen's 4th HS.  Anyway, Hollis and I gave each other a high five and I went through the AS).

After leaving the road, the course began a gentle climb through some grassy, transitioning into forest areas.  As we approached the steeper (that's a relative term) part of Flatrock Trail, it seemed to me as if I was part of an Everest Expedition.  As far as you could see, there was this long line of runners walking the trail.  It seriously reminded me of the lines waiting to navigate the notch going to the summit of Everest.  The walking part was fine, but I felt they were walking too slowly and there wasn't any place to pass.  I began fretting cut times again, and wanted to hit AS2 with a significant cushion.  Remembering Dan's admonition about the Stinging Nettles, I stepped off the trail and speed walked through 100 yards or so of the little boogers, but did manage to pass some of the slower folks in front of me.  When I was a kid, I used to get into the Nettles all the time, but I had forgotten what they were like.  I just figured it's mind over matter and kept going.  Sure enough, the steep part of Flatrock Trail took my mind off the burning, and by the first creek crossing, the burning was gone, to be replaced by burning in my quads.

I hit AS2 with about 35 minutes to spare.  I was really pleased, and thought for the first time, I can really do this.  I jammed a couple of PBJ wedges, refilled my water bottle (the amazing volunteers did this for me), grabbed a handful of pretzels and trucked on down the road towards Boar's Nest.  I was feeling strong and was running more than walking, thinking life's great. Due to Dan's flagging, I saw the Boar's Nest junction and turned left.  I began recalling from the Trainer, the brutal downhill section that was coming up.  I hated that part then and hated it again Saturday.  The only positive thing about it was it was much drier and was mostly cleared of downed branches (thank you Dan).  I managed to make it down in one piece and enjoyed some relatively flat running for a while.  Soon enough we began the climb up the South Fork of Red Creek (does it really have a name?).  I kept thinking someone must have moved the creek crossing.  I kept telling my group that it was just up the trail.  After finally crossing the creek, we began the climb to AS3.  Within 200 yards of the AS I pointed out the skyline (indicating the road), and as soon as I looked up, I took my first fall.  Wasn't bad, just a superficial scrape above my right wrist.  We rolled into AS3 and Hollis was there.  I brushed off all the "what happened to you?" questions, filled my water bottle (by the amazing volunteers), jammed some cookies into my mouth, grabbed another handful of pretzels and set out for AS4.  The splits were still good; we were still about 30 or 35 minutes under the cut time.  I'm thinking, this is good.  Our little group made it up the climb from AS3 onto the flatter portion of the South Prong Trail.  We had a great group of runners in our "pod."  A Navy doc (thank you for your service) from Walter Reed.  She was recently back from Afghanistan, and commented that Afghanistan was easier than HS.  I said, "yeah, but for the IEDs."  There was a nurse and a couple of other folks in our group.  Somewhere around mile 18 or so, I took a seriously hard fall.  Who knows what happened?  I was just on the ground wondering how I got there (I'm such a klutz).  Following a quick self assessment that nothing was broken, I began getting back up.  My knee was flat ugly.  I could look into the wound and see my kneecap.

                                                    At the finish line, some 6 plus hours post fall.
                                                                      Three hours later following much debridement,
                                                                      this baby took 10 stitches.  (Davis Memorial
                                                                      Hospital ER docs ROCK)

Rupa (Navy Doc) Dainer had some Bacitracin in her pack and after a feeble attempt at irrigating the gash, she lathered it up with Bacitracin.  Another guy (apologies as I don't remember your name) helped me up and "checked my nose and eyes" (that wound looked worse than it was) and we all got back on the trail.  "Time's a wastin" and in the immortal words of some famous cowboy "...we're burnin daylight..."  I settled in with Rupa and we're on cruise control for AS4 (my long imagined nemesis).  I told Rupa there would probably be a fight at AS4, as my wife and daughter, Danielle were going to be there, and I could hear an admonition to drop out.  Our little group was still in the sub 30 - 35 minute cut time, so I felt very good about that.  I actually got a little teary eyed coming into the aid station.  It was really an emotional moment for me.  I  believe Cindy was kind of in shock and didn't say anything.  I swapped stuff out of my drop bag with the help of Danielle and Cindy, got my water bottle refilled, had some cursory first aid on my knee (the first responders/first aiders really need gloves -- I preached at the young lady who was helping me, as she was glove less) and headed up the Road Across the Sky, after grabbing more cookies and chips. 

                                                     My old nemesis, Aid Station 4.  Cut off 6 
                                                                 hours, 5 minutes.

                                                   My wonderful wife, Cindy, mother of Danielle &
                                                                    Hillary, Captain of my support crew.  I am forever
                                                                    grateful for your support and understanding
                                                                     over these last several months.

                                                                                    The ever popular drop bag!

                                                             My approach to AS4.  I'm gonna make the cut!  What's
                                                             with all the traffic?  Some guy in a pickem up, nearly
                                                              bumped me as I was going into the aid station.
                                                                                                   
                                                                                                                                                               
I felt reasonably strong at the beginning of the road, and managed to run to the first significant climb, where I took the cue from everyone else and walked it.  AS5 had watermelon that was to die for, plus more water (yummmm, water).  At some point on the road, I joined up with Abbi Crowe and her sister.  I settled in with them alternating between running the down hills and flats (there really were a couple) and walking the uphills.  Where was AS6?  I mean, it seemed to take forever to get there, but finally from the bottom of a very long hill, we saw it.  Beat the cut time!!!  Time to celebrate for a few seconds, get more fuel, more water and hit the meadows.

At some point my race plan fell apart, and I can't remember when.  During all of my training runs I worked at "eating" and drinking every half hour.  I did it, religiously for every training run between 10 miles and 50K.  Anyway, I got side tracked.  I think the food at the AS's threw me off.  I ate at every AS, but I know I wasn't getting 100 cals from the cookies and pretzels.  I ate on schedule most of the first 20 miles, but after that, I missed more of the half hour "feedings" than I made.  In retrospect, I think I was getting pretty hypo-glycemic.  Everyone told me "don't forget to eat."  I just went brain dead.  I had Hammer Gels and other easy stuff, just didn't use it.

I think the 6 miles between AS 6 & AS7 were the "longest" of the entire race.  My lacerated knee was beginning to slow me down.  I felt OK on the climbs and level areas, but I began dreading the downhills, and by the time I got to the boulder field I had to force myself to put any downhill pressure on my left knee. I finally rolled into AS7 and the cold water was amazing.  I didn't (read couldn't) eat.  One of the wonderful volunteers was opening a can of potatoes and I thought I was going to puke.  I didn't recognize the signs of hypoglycemia, so I threw down some eCaps, took another big drink of water and headed for Salamander at Timberline. 

Going out of AS7, the trail was very runnable, but my legs were so wasted I could only run a few steps and then there would be a handful of rocks on the trail prompting me to walk again.  I just did not have the confidence or energy to "dance" through them at this point in the day.  The last thing I wanted to do was fall again.  I knew if I fell and hit my injured knee again, I'd probably just crawl off the trail and let the coyotes have their way with me.  When we came out of the woods onto Salamander (a great beginner's slope that goes forever) I thought "we have to go up there?"  Actually  the climb up wasn't as bad as I expected, even though I walked most of it.  I was a little worried about missing the trail back into the woods, but Dan had done a great job of flagging the route and it matched the pre-race briefing perfectly.  Finally, out of the sun and back into the shade of the trees.  Little did I know what lay ahead.

Oh, did I mention the "butt slide" was fun too?  As we started our decent into the valley, the trail got steeper and steeper.  A couple of runners passed me and I caught up with some others, but just fell in behind them.  I was running on fumes by then and had no interest in passing anyone on the steep single track.  I'm thinking to myself, "these mountain bikers are crazier than hell."  I mean, it was bad enough trying to negotiate that section of trail on foot, let alone on a mountain bike.  There were a couple of places where our little group actually had to hang onto small trees to get down the really steep pitches.  I kept looking at my watch and at this point, I was convinced there was no way I (we) was going to make the finish line under 12.  Even after the "butt slide" we were still in the woods for what seemed like miles.  Finally we broke onto a gravel road and soon saw AS8 in the distance.  The final leg!  We were going to make it! 

As I ran into the AS, I saw my family complete with our two Golden Retrievers on the side of the road.  I cannot tell you what a boost that was.  I refilled my water bottle (no food now--what good would it do?), with the help of volunteers, and began running  up Freeland Road.  I was actually running fairly large chunks of road.  I would run the flats and walk the hills.  That seemed to work.  As we approached the intersection with Rt. 32, the course veered left into a fairly large, grassy meadow.  There was a tread, but I was reluctant to try to run much of it.  I nearly twisted an ankle on a rut and a  clump of grass, and the last thing I wanted at that point was a debilitating injury.  I figured I could walk backwards by then and still make the cut.  Across Rt. 32 and into CVSP.  The paved road into the park was hot and totally exposed to the sun.  I ran the flats (mostly) and what downhill there was and walked the uphills.  The trail turned back into the woods and we were inside a mile.  A girl I was running (walking) with told me she had fallen several times on this section, last year.  Don't fall.  Watch your step.  Concentrate.

Bang!  Out of the woods onto manicured grass and then the final yards to the finish line.  I (we) had made it.  So much was racing through my mind at that point.  John Logar was standing at the finish line with his patented grin.  Dan Lehman was dutifully taking pictures of all the finishers.  My daughter Danielle was taking pictures and Cindy was doing a great job controlling our Goldens.  It was over.  Was it as bad as I thought it was 3 hours earlier?

                                                          I can't believe I made it...

                                                          The allusive Finish Line

                                                                     My greatest fans

                                                     A congratulatory hug.  (I know I smell bad)

                                                Danielle and dad, with the ever present dog leash

                                                                                                 
                                                             Triage by "Coach" Logar

                                                             Calling the ER.  I'm on my way.

EPILOGUE:

It's post race day 6 and difficult to put into words everything I'm feeling.  Physically, I'm doing well.  The lactic acid finally metabolized on Tuesday and my quads are totally back to normal.  Had it not been for my stupid knee, my normal  routine of a post race day 1, one or two mile walk, followed PR day 2 by a two or three mile gentle jog would have sped up the recovery process.  But, I feel good.  After my first marathon, back in the late '70's, I had to walk down the stairs backwards for two days.  Following HS, even with my gimpy knee, I could go down the stairs frontwards.  The knee is looking good, although it will be forever ugly, no signs of infection and healing nicely.  Stitches out Monday.  Some gentle running next week.  It's time.

I met so many extraordinary people out on the trail.  I am just so impressed by the women athletes who participate in HS.  In an iRunFar blog last week, Bryon wrote about being "chicked."  I told Abbi Crowe she and her sister "chicked" me.  I think it's great.  I have two wonderful daughters and I will tell you, a woman can do anything a man can do.  Back in the 'bad old days' of the Boston Athletic Club (and others) women were not even allowed to run in marathons because they were the weaker sex.  Well all of you ladies out there may (on the count of 3) thumb your collective noses at them.  Great job!!!  There were so many "trail experiences" I can't begin to mention all of them.  Even though it was a competitive environment, there was a huge sense of comradery too.  When I took my spill at mile 17, everyone around me pitched in to get me back on my feet and headed up the trail.  Seconds here and minutes there all add up, but everyone (throughout the race) really showed outstanding sportsmanship.  I wish I could remember names from the trail, but alas, that is one my several (many?) weaknesses.  I dated my wife for over a week before I could remember her last name.  I know, I'm just lame.

I have rambled much too long.  Before I post this, I want to thank Dan Lehman and his amazing crew of volunteers for a first rate event.  I can tell you, it's not easy being a race director, even for a little 10K.  Way to go Dan!  Next I want to thank Adam Casseday for all of his support and coaching during my months of training.  I met Adam for the first time in Cooke City, MT.  He and my older daughter Hillary went to high school together.  Adam and Kadra are having their first child in August.  I told Adam that will change his life forever.  Adam, Danielle and I are looking forward to crewing at CMMM.  Then there's Logar.  What can I say?  He always makes me laugh and he is a wealth of information regarding the world of Ultras.  He was especially helpful with fueling suggestions, electrolyte management, and always said, "just keep moving forward."  Matt Young pulled me back from the ledge early in my training, when I didn't think I could do it.  Even though we haven't met, we exchanged a series of eMails that got me refocused.  I really regret not meeting Matt at HS. 

Thanks to everyone, athletes, volunteers and families.  /jim


                                                                                                   

                                                                             

Not Your Father's Shoe Store

I want to give a big shout out (And I absolutely despise that term.  Ever since I heard a certain national candidate use it frequently in the 2008 election cycle, I've been turned off by it.  Personally, I've never used it before this, and probably will never use it again, but somehow it seems appropriate in this context) to Morgantown Running (http://www.morgantownrunning.com/).  I have blogged about the hot spots on my right 5th metatarsal for a while now, and they've just been driving me nuts.  Different friends have offered differing suggestions as to the cause.  Change in shoe size, or swelling feet when they get hot seemed the most logical reason.  I actually Googled the problem, and of course became convinced I had a stress fx, but then that didn't make sense because the hot spots (pain) were episodic, associated only with intermediate or long runs on asphalt.  Otherwise, I had no symptoms.  I've known about Morgantown Running for a while, but have never been there.  Some local runners have gone there for gait analysis and/or to have shoes refit, and I had heard good things from them.  The staff is so much more than just a bunch of part time shoe sales people.  Drue, the guy who helped me, is a collegiate level athletic trainer and is working on his PhD in Kinesiology, in addition to being a Tri-athlete, so clearly, they know what they're talking about. 

I've worn Asics Gel Nimbus for years without any problems.  Last fall, following the Wine Glass Marathon in upstate NY, I began to experience the hot spots.  I took a gear bag full of new shoes, slightly worn shoes, and worn out shoes with me to Morgantown Running.  After I explained at length what I thought was going on and the triggers, Drue had me put on my newest shoes.  He felt the anterior portion of my 5th metatarsal through my shoe, and exactly where I had been having problems was one of the decorative Asics stripes.  Some of the older shoes only had the stripe "painted" on, but the new ones actually have some funky material (plastic?) that makes up the stripe that goes right over the widest part of my foot.  Bingo!  So Drue suggested a bunion pad over the affected area.  I tried it last night, and that may do the trick.  I have to fine tune the placement and do a couple of longer runs with the pads to see if they really do work.  If so, goodbye Asics and I'll have the folks at Morgantown Running help fit me with another brand of neutral shoe.

Race time is fast approaching and the taper is here.  My long run this weekend is only 10 miles followed by 6.  Then 4, 3, & 2 next week followed by two days of rest and lots of pasta and rice.  :-)

I've done everything I was supposed to do to prepare for this adventure.  Now it's just a matter of letting "race day magic" take over, getting in the groove and making the cuts.

The only thing left is to worry about things I cannot control.  Weather at the starting line (what kind of clothes to wear and shed), my stupid foot, and anything else I can come up with between now and 0600 on June 16.  See you at the finish line!!!


                                          "Yes by God, baby we were Born to Run..."
                                                              Bruce

2 1/2 Weeks to Go

This past weekend was brutally hot, especially for this time of year.  It's way too early for the temperature to be in the upper 80's.  The high for this coming Saturday is only going to be in the mid 60's so there is hope for reasonable weather come the 16th.  I think we all long for "perfect" running weather for race days, but this year's Boston and two years ago at the Chicago Marathon prove we cannot always (can we ever?) count on "perfect" weather.  Ah, what would life be if we didn't have something to fret about???

Last week I was running repeats on Ellis Ridge Road.  I was descending the back side and saw a runner approaching on the uphill.  I knew immediately who it was.  Casseday and I soon met up and he asked me where I was going.  He then turned and ran down to the bottom  and then turned and started up with me.  I know I was really slowing him down, but Adam is such an incredibly nice guy, he acted like it was nothing.  If nothing else, it forced me to run a somewhat faster pace than I normally do.  We chatted (which I personally found amazing, given I was able to talk at all on the upgrade) on the climb back up, and shared stories.  Adam clearly has some stories.  I kept telling him to go ahead without me, but he would say in another 3/10 of a mile or so.  I'm sure he felt like he had to drive a stake in the ground to prove he was moving at all.  Finally my slow pace got the better of him.  He said he needed to move on so he could get home in time for dinner, or some lame excuse like that.  I mean to tell you, he turned on the jets and was gone.  What an impressive runner!

Saturday proved to be as hot as predicted.  I hit my Forest Service Road at 0730 with a temperature of 61.  I got a new GPS watch for my birthday ( a couple of months early ) and was anxious to see how it performed.  I had marked splits using the odometer on my car.  After 4 miles, my GPS was 0.3 miles ahead of my odometer readings.  Then it seemed to hold steady through the rest of the splits.  My 13 mile turnaround showed as 13.3xx.  The rest of the run, I didn't pay too much attention to the GPS mileage until I glanced at my time and at 18.5 had a message that there was no satellite.  I never did re-acquire the satellite, but finished my mini-marathon feeling pretty good.  Legs were OK, but my feet kept getting hot.  John Logar told me my shoe size has probably changed, so I need to look into that for sure.  The 26 was a good workout.  The heat wasn't a problem for me, but it was mostly shaded.  My personal aid station had not been messed with, so I had plenty of fluids, and alternated 1 E-Cap on the half hour and 2 E-Caps on the hour.  No cramps or signs of heat problems.  I had been worried about "Yayhoos" on their ATVs because of the holiday weekend.  I did see a few, but they were all courteous; slowed down and gave me plenty of road room.  For that I was grateful.

Sunday I did an easy 10 miles.  It was hot again, but the temperature didn't affect me.  My legs were basically dead for the first 7 miles or so.  I guess they warmed up at that point, because I actually began to feel pretty good.  The last mile and a half is all up hill and I felt strong finishing.

I bought a copy of Bryon Powell's Relentless Forward Progress a few weeks ago.  It's a good read dedicated mostly to Ultra/Trail Running.  I was thumbing through it the other evening before bed, and I'm actually beginning to believe I can do this (Highland Sky).  I've trained hard and done everything "the experts" say one should do in preparing for an Ultra.  That coupled with the encouragement and words of wisdom from my informal coaching staff (Adam, Logar, Lehmann, and too many others to mention here) have me convinced I'm ready.  I just need to avoid "out dumbing" myself or doing anything stupid during the taper for the next two weeks.  I've done my last long training run.  I only have a 16 (only?) this Saturday with a 10 on Sunday.  I'm doing the 16 on the Forest Service Road (I don't want my healing boo boo to get wet crossing Otter Creek), but then I'm going back to the trails for my final weekend runs.  I need to refresh my memory on negotiating the rocks and roots on the technical sections of Otter Creek.  I've actually missed it the last couple of weeks.  Following HS, I'm going to just do some fun stuff and explore some trails I haven't seen in the OC Wilderness.  Just a "walk in the woods."

                                            Hillary and Lola at the 1.5 mile mark on Otter
                                            Creek.  Picture must be 4 years old, as Lola is
                                             clearly a pup, compared to her 75 lbs. now.
                                             Otter Creek is very low here.
                                                                     

The Countdown Has Begun or Are We There Yet?

Well, after trashing my knee a little more than a week ago, I don't seem to be any worse for the wear and tear.  Counting Monday the 14th (fall day & 31 miler), I knocked down 77 miles last week. I did a twelve miler 3 days post fall and felt good.  No problems with the knee at all.  On Saturday (5 days post fall) I did 24 and felt good, except for some soreness on the bottom of my feet.  The wound seems to be healing nicely with no signs of infection.  Thankfully I didn't injure the joint. 

I have a 26 scheduled for Saturday.  I hope I don't have to play chicken with ATV's on my training road.  It's a holiday weekend, and I'm sure there will be a lot of them out.  The other challenge is going to be the heat.  It's supposed to get into the 90's in town, so I plan on hitting the road by 0730.  That way I should be back before it gets brutal.  It's that time of year I suppose, and at some point I'll need to become acclimated.  Much of my route is protected by forest canopy, especially in the morning.  The road follows the East side of the Shavers Fork River and is also protected from the morning sun by a fairly high ridge line situated to the East of the road.  Nevertheless, I'll have to be sensitive to fluids and 'lytes, in addition to nutrition.  I stashed a two liter soft drink bottle with water last weekend.  I used half of it on my 24 and hope no one has messed with it.  It's pretty well hidden, so I should be OK.  (as a side note, I hate the fact I'm leaving that crap out there--to me, that's major littering)  It almost seems funny, but I'm essentially going to run a marathon Saturday, and I'm not even thinking much about it.  I guess that's a good sign.  I really am feeling stronger and am probably in the best shape of my life.  That's saying something for a 65 year old fart.  I still have brief moments of self doubt, but they are fewer and farther apart than 2 or 3 months ago.  I think I'm good to go, or will be come June 16.

This is the last big mileage week for me.  Next week my long run is only 16 and the following week, the "serious taper" begins.  I'm not going to do a bonk run.  Back in the day, I used to Carbo Load and I absolutely loathed the depletion part of if.  I'll just keep eating and managing fluids.  200 cals/hour or more.  That's just going to have to do it. 

Oh no, a Boo Boo!

Well, we're inside 30 days till Highlands Sky.  It actually seems hard to believe.  Wasn't it just yesterday I began training for this thing?

I had to tweak my training schedule last weekend (May 12 - 13) because the family got together in Pittsburgh to help celebrate Hillary's graduation from Pitt Law.

From left to right, my better half, Cindy; the new JD, Hillary, Danielle & me.  I can't tell you how much their support and encouragement means to me.  Training for marathons and especially ultras is incredibly time consuming and I am often left feeling like I'm cheating these guys because I'm never around.  Nevertheless, we had a wonderful weekend in "the 'burgh."  The graduation ceremony was very impressive and the speaker was none other than Art Rooney, II, President of the Pittsburgh Steelers.  We had the opportunity to eat at some very good, out of the way neighborhood eateries.  One served up a pound and a half of mussels and to make things even better, they had a kick ass beer menu.  Like I said, it was a great weekend and we are all incredibly proud of Hillary's accomplishments over these last three years.

So, my schedule called for a 31 miler on Saturday and I obviously couldn't fit it in that day, so I took a vacation day and planned on the 31 for Monday.  Monday morning was dawning wet with a forecast of continued rain throughout the day.  At 0500 as I sat drinking a cup of coffee and getting ready to walk our two Golden Retrievers, I had thoughts of bailing out, but Highlands being only a month away, I just had to get my head right and hit the road.  The night before, I measured 15.5 miles and set up my personal aid station which consisted of a recycled 2 liter Coke bottle filled with water.  I carried all my nourishment.

My long weekend runs are supposed to be on trails, but the water was high, and creek crossings were going to be a potential problem, so I opted to run on a Forest Service road.  It was 95% unpaved and several miles of it were very rugged (almost technical), so it closely mimicked trail running except for the width.  It was so rugged my Ford Escape bottomed out while I was measuring the distance to my turnaround.

I started my run in a steady rain, which continued for 3 or so miles.  Then much of the rest of the morning was a mixture of light drizzle or just being overcast.  I quickly got into the groove and was enjoying myself.  I saw a Scarlet Tanager (the first I had seen in probably 10 years) plus 4 Wild Turkeys and a big hawk.  It was very cool.  I hit my turnaround in good time (for me), refilled my water bottles, took a long drink and began the return run.  I was feeling pretty good and strong.  I guess I stopped paying attention to the road, which was very rough at this point, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground looking up.  I got back up, checked myself out (hands were OK, arms were OK, left knee was bloody and dirty, so I sacrificed part of a water bottle (ever cognizant of dehydration) to try and irrigate it and clean it up some and resumed my run.  I ran probably 12 miles back to my car.  My split was only a few minutes off my turn around split (even with the fall) so I felt good about that.  I really felt pretty good (much of the last 10 miles was up hill), but I was majorly upset with myself for having fallen.  Stupid.  Not paying attention.  Yada yada.  When I got to the car, I finally looked at my wound and it was pretty ugly.  Blood all the way from my knee down to my shoe.

I got home and stretched out, then hit the shower.  I washed my wound with soap and water and other than a little stinging, had no pain.  I dried off and was ready to dress the wound and get on with things.  When I pulled back the flap of skin, all I could see besides blood was rotten leaves and gravel.  I knew I needed professional debridement, so Hillary and I headed to our ER.   The timing was great because they weren't very busy and we did not have a long wait.  Dr. Susan Bobes took care of me.  Ironically, she sutured my other knee about 10 years ago after I tried to rock hop across the "infamous Otter Creek" and hit a patch of ice on a rock.  That resulted in total immersion in the creek in February and the ensuing trip to the ER.  Hillary went with me on that trip too.  Anyway, Dr. Bobes cleaned the wound out and put about 6 stitches in it.  Anti-biotics and I was out the door.  The following is a graphic representation  of what my knee looked like, so those of you with squeamish stomachs, you may want to skip this. 

                                                                         

Following a couple of courses of IV anti-biotics and tweaking my dressings, I've been cleared to resume running (only missed 2 days).  I kind of cheated, because one of the docs who saw me (John Logar) is an Ultra runner too, and I knew he'd tell me it was OK to run.  :-)   On a side note, John rode his mountain bike to work yesterday.  He lives about 40 miles away, so it's not just riding up the street.  He saw a sow with two cubs about the size of 10 lb. bags of flour (or sugar too for that matter).  I haven't seen a bear while running since one I saw about 30 years or so ago, although I did follow a bear track in the snow earlier this spring.

I think the moral to this story is that we need to be ever vigilant.  Carelessness puts us on the ground.  So after only one fall in 8 days of running trails, I wipe out on a stupid road.  Go figure!


                                                                 

Come on Man!

My virtual pacer/coach/moral support, John Logar asked me today if I had blogged recently, and clearly I have not.  So as I sit here eating my peanut butter on whole wheat (yummm), I'm trying to put some thoughts together.  Work has been crazy and my better half has been out of town on business a lot recently, so in addition to work and training, I've had to minister to our dogs as well.  It renews my respect for single parents.  Hey, our dogs are like our kids, right? 

Last week was a cycle down week, for which I was grateful.  The previous week I did 24/10 back-to-back, and even though I felt strong both days, I was ready for some much needed recovery time.  I've become a believer in the recoveries, unlike during my marathon training when I pretty much just keep going.  Maybe recovery weeks are helpful for marathons too.  Ya think?

This week is scheduled to be a high mileage week, with a 31 miler on the weekend.  I have to tweak that a little, because we are all going to be in Pittsburgh for my daughter Hillary's graduation from Pitt Law.  I cannot believe it's been 3 years.  She's such a great kid, and I know she's chomping at the bit to get on with her career.  At any rate, back to the tweaking of the schedule.  I'm doing the 31 miler on Monday and then another 24/10 back-to-back the following weekend.  That's going to total 81 for the week, but only because I'm doing that 31 on Monday and not Saturday or Sunday.  It's all time on our feet anyway.

We have had a lot of rain the past week and a half, or so.  Last weekend the trails in Otter Creek were full of water again.  It was like running in a stream in many places.  My concern now is being able to get across Otter Creek itself.  On any runs longer than 20, I have to cross OC three times.  The first crossing is fairly benign, but the next two are scary, potentially (or maybe actually) dangerous when the water is high.  Plan B is to make the first crossing and then run up Possession Camp Trail to the Eastern ridge of the Otter Creek Wilderness, then back down the Green Mountain Trail and pick up the main Otter Creek Trail, all of which are on the East side of Otter Creek (thereby passing the 2nd and 3rd fords).  Two benefits to the new route:  1. from a safety standpoint, I don't have to risk dicey river crossings; and 2. from a mental health standpoint, I'll see some new country.  I'm getting really stale running the same trails every weekend.

Last Sunday I was wrapping up my 10 miler and saw another trail runner.  Doug Williams is from Elkins and he and I used to run a  together lot.  Back in the early '80's we used to talk about doing the Western States 100, but neither of us ever got there.  We've done marathons and many shorter races together.  Doug is a great runner and my claim to fame was beating him out in the last half mile of the Marine Corps Marathon one year.  That happend only once, and will probably never happen again.  We ran the last 3 or 4 miles together, back to the trail head.  It was really good talking with him.  Even though Elkins is a very small town, our paths never seem to cross.  Doug was the Women's Cross Country coach at Davis & Elkins College, and he coached Logar's wife, Jodie (Park) Logar.  Jodie is a very talented runner in her own right.  I believe I made reference to her in one of my earlier blogs.

I talked with my Wasatch buddy, Mark Robbins, yesterday.  He turned me on to some new nutrition that looks very interesting.  Check out First Endurance's website.  Their product (EFS Liquid Shot) makes a lot of sense.  No geling agents, so it gets into the bloodstream much faster.  Designed for & by endurance athletes to be nutritionally balanced with carbs, amino acids, lytes, etc.  It's a little pricey, about $6 a pop, but 400 cals and you can mix it into your water bottles and use it over time, which I suppose effectively reduces the price per serving.  Mark is doing well in the early stages of his training for the Wasatch 100.  He says they still can't get into the high country, but the snow is beginning to go.  Salt Lake must be a pretty neat town.  Big running/biking community, and you can just step out your door and hit any number of awsome trails.

My training is going well.  I'm feeling stronger with faster recovery from my long runs.  I'm doing hard climb repeats once a week, and although I sometimes feel like I'm gonna blow a lung, it's really been helpful.  I still won't let myself walk on those steep climbs.  My weight seems to have settled in between 155 and 157.  I know everyone thinks I'm too thin, but I feel strong and eat like a horse. My BMI remains in the normal range. Adam Cassseday says climbs are like hidden speedwork.  I don't like speedwork, but I think Adam is right.  Wish Adam luck this weekend.  He's running Massanutten Mountain 100 on Saturday.  Adam is another of my "moral support team."  I need all the help I can get, but I am beginning to feel better about myself, and most of the time I seem to be gaining confidence.

To everyone out there who offers me advice, provides support, and otherwise is helpful, I want to say a monster "Thank You!"

Oh, by the way:  I have manged 8 days of trail runs with only one fall.  Knock on wood!!!  Maybe I'm beginning to get the hang of this.
 

Gettin Lazy

Well, not so much with training, as with keeping up with this blog.  If memory serves, it's been a couple of weeks since I've written anything.

A lot has happened in the world of ultra running since my last post.  The Marathon Des Sables was run earlier in the month and last week the world championship 100K was won with an average pace of 6:10 which simply blows me away.  The Masssanutten 100 is two weeks from tomorrow, and 2 guys from WV Mountain Trail Runners club are participating.  Adam Casseday and Dan Lehman will be among the field.  Dan broke a few ribs early in the month, and he's still going to run it.  What an inspiration?  I'm looking for Adam to be a top finisher, if not the top guy.  Dan and Adam have both been incredibly helpful to me in my training for Highlands Sky.  The running community is really an amazing group of people.

My training has been going pretty well.  I did a 23/8 back to back two weeks ago and 23/10 last weekend.  I have a 24/10 tomorrow.  I don't know what it is, but I continually fret before my long weekend runs.  I think I'm just getting burned out on Otter Creek, but it's the most convenient venue for long trails for me.  I guess I'll just keep chugging along.  A few weeks ago, I wrote of the washed out section of trail with the downed tree.  It seems to get more difficult to negotiate each time I pass it.  I just keep my fingers crossed that it doesn't get too muddy.  I can see myself getting down one side of the tree and not being able to get back up the other side.

I feel like I'm getting stronger, but am still filled with self doubt.  Adam suggested I start doing some hard climbs, and I've worked those into my mid week program.  I did my first repeat on the climb last evening and felt pretty good.  1.5 miles of fairly steep uphill, then down the back side and 1.5 back up on the repeat.  Next week is a cycle down week for me.  I'm probably ready for it.