Some fun in the Smokies!

Took a quick day trip to the smokies this past weekend. Parked at Trillium Gap, went up LeConte, over the Boulevard Trail to the AT, and ran to Newfound Gap...then came back! about 33 miles total, and the 6+ steady miles of downhill at the end really made quads tender...but no worries...the run was free of piriformis/sciatic pain, for the first time since july! 

it got a bit warm on top of the ridge of the Boulevard trail, but i stayed within the limits balancing the electrolytes with some pumpkin spice FUEL-100s,(dont forget to use the code "JOHNTOLDME" when you order to save some cash money :)) and stayed full of energy thanks to EPIC bison bars! oh, and the fall colors and views were AMAZING!!!! ENJOY!!!!

Barkley Fall Classic 2014

“I would recommend that you not run for a while, or at least limit your running to low-impact.”

These are the words of my PT just days before the Barkley Fall Classic (BFC). I had seen him just twice so far, trying to get relief from a horrific case of sciatic pain that left me debilitated any time I would run for more than an hour. While I was beginning to get noticeable relief, my PT was not convinced that I should be doing anything “extreme”. Little did he know what awaited me in just a few days time.

Low-impact activity...just 10,000 ft of vert

My earliest memories of Frozen Head State Park were from my days as a boy scout in Troop 6. I have distinct memories of a gravel, jeep road that went up forever, and long, winding single-track trail that was steep enough to sear memories into my brain some 20+ years later. I can’t say for sure, but it seems like I remember my buddy and I being led to a seemingly-early death by our Scoutmaster on these trails, going up and down like a sick joy-ride out of hell, only to find ourselves at some nightmarish prison, in the dark, with no semblance of how to escape.

Maybe its PTSD that I suffer from. If so, I have learned that the best way to get over trauma is to relive it, to confront the demons head-on.

The BFC was created as a way to expose those of us whose appetite for destruction cannot be satisfied through watching crime dramas play out on TV. No, this one was served to us as an opportunity to bask in the glory of a masochistic exercise in futility. Those who have participated in the running of the Barkley Marathons will even scoff at this puny assessment of the BFC, for they have experienced something that extends beyond the realms of conscious awareness, into that of an exercise in mindfulness, of being present in the discomfort, and aware that is will not end for a few nightfalls still.

As for us BFCers, perhaps we cannot even imagine, but we were more than willing to have a taste, and a taste is what we got.

The race began with the lighting of a cigarette. Off we went into the pre-dawn, up a road, past a legendary yellow gate, and onto single-track. And then up for a good long while. Switchback after switchback, up and up. Seeing that I had not run in the previous two weeks, and that the last run I had was stopped short with debilitating pain radiating down into my foot, I made the wise decision to run up this entire climb. Even though both the pace and the grade lent itself to a much more conservative approach, at this point, I wasn’t even sure how long my day was gonna last. I watched the front runners disappear into the mountain. I watched those behind zig-zag along with me towards the top. At the height of the climb I watched a guy go the wrong way onto the CT, and shouted to him that the CT was not on the route. I paused, along with a few others, to look at our map, and sure enough we needed to stay on the trail going straight down the other side of the mountain to the boundary mark, then hang a right.

Somewhere on this downhill my feet began to slide…and slide…and slide inside my shoes.

I led the charge down to the boundary, and soon found myself with no trail to follow. Mind you, this is a Barkley-inspired event, so there were no trail markings…just the faint blazes on trees, the park signage, and the rare sighting of a “confidence” arrow. At this point I was with a few other guys, and we all set out in differing directions looking for something. I went down a huge ditch, and clawed my way back up, it turns out, just for fun, as another guy yelled out that he had found something. So I headed towards him, and saw a footprint in the dirt. But then as we looked up the trail, we saw an arrow.

Being back on the “trail”, we ran into two folks heading the opposite direction…at first, this was confusing, but then it was even more confusing, as one of these guys was Joe Fejes. Following a joke that at the time wasn’t too funny (something about us heading the wrong way), we all forced a laugh, and they punched our numbers, showing that we were, in fact, going the right way towards aid station number 1.

Following a quick fill-up on drink and food, I set off solo down the trail. My attention quickly returned to the discomfort I was feeling, not down my leg like I was expecting, but on my heels. I could feel the thick, calloused-over skin on my feet sliding around. I tightened my shoes as much as was comfortable, and set back out. But I knew my feet were screwed. Maybe a mile more down the trail, and I could feel the skin rupture on both my feet, exposing brand-new, virgin skin to the rugged trail I was pounding. Even though I had on shoes, I might as well have been barefoot. There was no escaping the inevitable.

So now I couldn’t run on my heels without searing, nausea-inducing pain. So on I went. Deeper and deeper into the woods. The afternoon progressed with more steep ups, which didn’t seem to bother my feet since I was up on my toes, and steep downs, which hurt really bad. Since the climbs were so steep and long, I would forget how bothersome the pain was, and I would get real positive in my head, like “hey, this ain’t so bad”, and then take that first step back down and I was like “Oh man this really feels bad”. And so it went, mile after mile. I passed through aid stations, eating and drinking so as not to bonk, passing time and distance that didn’t really matter. I made my way to the out-and-back, passing by “testicle spectacle” on the way, thanking the Good Lord that I didn’t have to run down that, but faced with the inevitable climb up to the turn-around that would shoot me right back into the pain cave on the way down.

At this point in the race, I was looking forward to three things that were to come: 1) seeing my wife 2) rat jaw 3) the end. If I kept going, these three things were inevitable. The first one came pretty soon after the turn-around. My wife has a talent of looking like she is having the time of her life, and maybe she is. She would later tell me that she knew I was in trouble by the way that I looked at her. She cast her radiating smile and good vibes upon me, as we stopped briefly to exchange a hug. And off she went.

Number two came soon enough. Just past an aid station, there was an arrow that pointed to the left. Just down this trail, into some slight overgrowth, was another arrow pointing up to the right…and there it was, in all its glorious splendor: rat jaw. All I could see were briars, with power lines above them. There was only one thing to do…go into the jaw.

Rat Jaw...can you see the people?

I was with two other guys at this point. As we headed into the briars, it became apparent that there was no real way to go…no semblance of any sort of “path”, and because we were on up in the standings, there was no sign that anyone else had even been into the briars. After about 20 yards into it, we realized that the best idea was to try to get as close to the side of the briars, while paralleling the power lines, thus cutting out the bloodletting (no pun intended) as much as possible. The guy in front led the charge, and soon enough, he had left me and the other guy behind. Onward and upward we climbed, on our hands and knees, clawing up the steep embankment, through the brush, past the briars, up towards what, we didn’t know. We could hear the cries of others as they made their way through the briars. I saw a piece of broken glass, then another, then another. At first, I didn’t know what to make of this, other than that the RD had put it out here for those who chose to suffer no more. I soon got over my macabre when I realized that we were approaching the top, that the shattered glass was from people chucking bottles from the fire tower, down the mountain. I looked up, and caught a glimpse of the fire tower. We scrambled up the last pitch and were free from the rat jaw.

Always carry briars in your pack.

So where was number three? How much more would I have to endure? By now, I could feel the torn flesh of my heels folded back under my feet, as if there were pieces of leather in my shoes. The searing pain would mount its charge on any occasion that I put my heel down. I got to another aid station, and Laz (aka Lazarus Lake, aka Gary Cantrell…google him if you need to know) laughed at me, poking fun at the amount of time it had taken me to get to “mile 22” (6ish hours).

I had no idea what was ahead of me, but I knew from a guy I had been running with earlier that this was going to be very difficult. I could only hope there was no downhill…and lo-and-behold, a climb resembling those of the Duncan Ridge! A climb that would go on for what seemed like forever…the kind of climb with no switchbacks, and no top. My energy was waning, and the lack of running the few weeks prior was catching up with me. I stopped, sat down, and ate an EPIC bar, letting the guy behind me pass. Following a few moments of serenity, I began the final haul up towards the top. Finally, after what seemed like the longest climb of my life, the top came. I was thrilled, but this was short-lasting, as the reality of the final decent, and the pain that would accompany this decent set in. There was only one thing left to do.

So the pain in my feet was inevitable. I had to try something else. What I did next was my own practice in mindfulness. As a therapist, one thing I try and encourage my patients with is staying present and in the moment, practicing radical acceptance (“it is what it is”), and reframing their experiences into something that can be constructive and beneficial. It was time to put this into practice.

I focused on the here-and-now of the situation, not knowing where the finish was or would be, and not concerning myself with how much more there was to go.

I accepted the condition of my feet for what it was, understanding that it was not going to magically get better, and that it was something I was going to have to handle if I wanted to get this thing done.

Finally, I sought to reframe my experience, in two ways. First, with the physical, with the pain. I thought about what the pain was, and realized that it was nothing but an uncomfortable feeling. This feeling, while acknowledging that it was uncomfortable, was different than what I normally feel when I press on my heel…it was a weird feeling. And that was the reframe…it didn’t hurt, it just felt weird.

Second, I sought to reframe my current mental state. I began to get out of myself, and be thankful for the opportunity to be out in creation, to be thankful for the joy I get to experience when I run. I was thankful to God for the opportunity to bring Him glory through my experience of running. I was thankful for the opportunity to endure. I reflected on the times in my life that God has given me to endure, and how thankful I am for the growth in grace that He gives me through the perseverance of the difficult times. I thanked God for my wife, for the love that we both have for the trails and for the sport we pursue.

Before I knew it, the trail was flat, and the opening to the road was within sight. I honed in on a guy that was in front of me, who I had been running with earlier, and let the enthusiasm of both trying to catch him, and the end coming into view to inspire me. We hit the road together, and made our way to the finish, to the end of the BFC.

No worries on that finish!

I got to my car, took off my shoes and socks, and was greeted with some gnarly feet. It was just as I had suspected…a thick layer of skin, barely attached towards the back of my heel, exposing the new, pink, baby skin underneath. All I could think about was how the shower I would be taking would feel on my feet.

I was soon greeted at the finish line by the ever-radiating smile of my wife. Her remarkable enthusiasm for trail running is so contagious, always inspiring a comment from those who catch a glimpse, and this time was no different, as the finish line volunteers remarked at the joy she was beaming. In the midst of my discomfort, she always makes me smile.

And that was that. We hopped in the car, and headed back to my parents house for a meal, and the dreaded shower, and following an inward scream from the pits of my soul, I wrapped up my feet in some serious wound care bandages, and proceeded to walk on my toes for the next week. It has been three weeks, and I still have flesh coming off my heels.

Ouch!

A big congrats to all those who took on the challenge, and made it to the finish line, and a huge thanks to the volunteers and the RD’s for putting on such an awesome event, and for giving us a taste of the Barkley. Thanks to Rock/Creek for the best gear hook-ups, and the opportunity to rep an awesome brand. Thanks to Fuel-100 for helping me stay fueled and hydrated on a long, humid day. Thanks to Epic Bars for simply the greatest race food out there, and thanks to the Blues Marathon for keepin’ the briars off my head!

VAMOS!!!!!

San Juan Solstice 50

My wife and I got to the Lake City, CO area on the Tuesday prior to race day, just to try and get as acclimatized as we could. Living in Jackson, MS does nothing for the ability to breath in the high alpine air. Although my preparation for this race included amassing 20,000+ feet of vertical climbing in my final week of the taper, I still knew that climbing legs would only get me so far…climbing lungs would be priceless!

View from the CD

Tuesday morning we went for a brief jog around lake San Cristobal. The views were absolutely stunning. The mountains that create the Continental Divide were visible, along with Sunshine Peak and Redcloud Peak. Despite the awesome scenery, as we made our way up a little incline, we were both taken back by the lack of air, and were immediately relegated to some serious huffing and puffing.

Wednesday morning, we set out for the Redcloud/Sunshine Peak double. Seeing as both of these 14’ers are attached, bagging them both in the same climb seemed like the right thing to do. Climbing came a bit easier on this venture, and we soon found ourselves across several snow fields, ready to ascend the saddle up to the peak. As my vision rose to capture the summit, I couldn’t help but notice that the icy precipitation that had been falling during the hike was picking up, and as I turned my gaze back, I could no longer see Handies Peak…the storm clouds had enveloped it, and were coming our way. I made the decision to call the ascent off, and we headed back down the trail. I was thankful to have been guided by the caretaking tendency I have towards my wife. If I had been solo, I would have pushed on upwards, probably ending up in a sketchy predicament. No worries though…our hike was beautiful, and we got in some good acclimatizing.

Thursday morning I decided to make the 4000+ foot climb up Wager Gulch, past the ghost town of Carson, and up to the Continental Divide. This was the second of two 4000+ ft climbs that were involved in the actual race. Bev decided to mosey around Lake City, so I was off on this excursion solo. The jeep road consistently climbed up, in some places pretty steep, for about 5 miles. As I got towards top, the views were freaking incredible, with the colors and beauty of the mountains being accentuated by my lack of ever seeing the San Juans. I followed the trail up to where it intersects with the CD, and it was all I could do to not keep going! Alas, the real reason for my arrival in Colorado was two days away…so back down I went!

Soon enough it was race day! 

The way up Wager Gulch

The race starts at 5am in the town of Lake City. Following a quick few miles up Engineer Pass Rd, the course hangs a left, and proceeds to cross over the cascading creek that runs down from the top of Alpine Gulch. The first of these crossings was raging pretty well, and up to about mid-thigh…a bad place for a slip-and-fall. I managed to navigate the numerous crossings with no issues, and settled into the grind up the 4000+ ft climb towards the top. The long congo line up this first climb was cool with me, as I managed into a pace that was comfortable for me. No frustrations here being in a line of folks…I was right where I belonged! A few brave souls “jogged” past, but I wanted none of that. The aid station came before the top of the climb, and I topped my bottle off, and continued on. Soon we were above the trees, and the views were spectacular. The just-risen sun was coming through the clouds, painting the landscape. I couldn’t help but be reminded of how really small I was, how insignificant this race really was in the perspective of such creation. But God has given me a special affinity to make meaning out of times like this, and, topping out the climb, I was ready to find that purpose.

The decent towards Williams Creek was fast, and business-like. I passed the few people that had “jogged” by me on the way up Alpine, and hit the aid station at the base, mile 15.7, in 3:31. I re-upped my fluid, took on some calories via sandwiches, and hit the brief period of road that would lead me to Wager Gulch, the climb I had done on Thursday. I was psyched, as this was the part of the course I was familiar with, and I knew that, despite the severity of the pitch, I could manage this climb well, as long as I stayed on top of my nutrition. I managed to pass several people on my way up to the highest point on the course (13,334ft), stopping only briefly at the Carson aid station, in 4:58, to fill my bottles.

Approaching the CD

At the top of the climb, the course hangs a left onto the Colorado trail. From here, I spied mountains I thought I would never see in my lifetime, much less have the opportunity to run on them. This part of the course stays above the trees in the thin air, running along the Divide, for the next 10+ miles. This is where the course began to get me. Along with the slower pace due to my elevated heart rate (which I was feeling thumping in my arms), there was terrain that this southern boy ain’t used to running on. Talus fields angled almost straight down, post-holing through snow fields, moments of glissading downhill (not on purpose)…this was something. I did my best to manage my emotions, and not allow the course to get me.

Finally, I arrived at the aid station at mile 31, in 7:35. My legs were kinda feeling like crap, and I was overall feeling the fatigue. My calorie consumption had not been nearly as high as it needed to be, as I was feeling pretty nauseous. I filled up my bottles, tried to eat some sandwiches, spit ‘em out, tried to eat some cookies, spit ‘em out, and decided I needed to do all I could to get down to a manageable altitude so maybe I could hold down some food. The next 4-5 miles were rough for me, as I felt weaker and weaker, and it was getting harder and harder to maintain a wogging pace (wog = walk + jog). If the terrain angled downwards, I tried to roll with the momentum, sometimes more successful than others.

But I began to notice that the trees were becoming more plentiful. The trail soon began to pitch pretty dramatically downhill, and it was time to roll onwards to the Slumgullion aid station at mile 40. I came into this station hauling, loving the newly-found air I could breathe, and totally re-energized with the finish 10 miles away. I was able to re-up my calories with success at the aid station, and managed to throw down some sandwiches and cookies, and left with a popcicle.

San Juan Selfie

The other exciting bit of info was that I rolled into this aid station at around 9:13 race time. I though I might have a chance to crack 12 hours!

So off I went. But Vickers Ranch just about did me in. Leaving the aid station I had high hopes. I felt better, and was psyched to have a goal time to shoot for. On the first footing of the last climb, all bets were off. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t climb, I couldn’t eat…I was toasted, in the middle of a full-fledged bonk somewhere on Vickers Ranch. The website had warned me of this climb, but I figured it would just be like gravy on mashed potatoes. But instead, here I was, struggling to get to that last aid station, and the nearly 3.5 miles of downhill to the finish. What was I gonna do? I dug through my bag, looking for something…anything! And I stumbled upon a packet of Fuel-100 electro bytes. I had bought these in Leadville on the way to Lake City, not really knowing what they were, or if I would use them. In my depleted, zombie-like state, I opened up the package, dumped all of the contents into my mouth, and chewed on the sweet/salty cookie bits, chasing them down with the last of my fluid…and suddenly, I was back! Whatever these cookie-pellets were, they did the trick! I finished up the last of the climb, hit a bit of downhill pitch, and arrived at the final aid station. I was in at about 10:50 race time.

Now it was time to suffer. I knew I could get in under 12 hours…but could I get in under 11:40? I hit the downhill pitch hard, with confidence in my footfall, feeling the discomfort searing through my legs. The technical, rocky terrain made hammering it that much more of a chore on these weary legs, but if I could just hold on…if I could just suffer well…maybe even 11:30…

"Cannibal" Cap!

I could now see Lake City, just off the side of this mountain. I continued to hammer, and made it to the exit of the trail, onto the asphalt of the city roads. Signs pointed me in the right direction, and at this point, looking at my watch wasn’t gonna help…I was either gonna get in under 11:30, or I wasn’t. I made it to the last left turn, now on to the city park, which I could now hear the announcer saying my name, and where I was from…”John Brower….from Jackson, Mississippi?! That’s a pretty fast time for someone from Mississippi…how was it out there, John?” I remember giving a sideways glance, a sigh, and then crossing the finish…now time to check the watch: 11:28:42. Not bad for a flatlander.

What a course, and what a trip! This was my first experience running in the Rocky Mountains, and the San Juan range did not disappoint! I hope that I will never forget the views I saw, but I do hope to see many more of them. I think my wife and I have decided that we will make Lake City our new summer vacation destination. But hey, God-willing, we will be back in the area next July, toeing that line for Hardrock! VAMOS!!!!

Gear Used:                                                                      
Shoes: Hoka OneOne Stinson Trail
Socks: Drymax Trail
Pack: Nathan HPL
Shirt: Patagonia Sleeveless (Race team edition)
Shorts : Patagonia (Race team edition)
Armwarmers: Patagonia
Hydration: Camelback insulated bottles

Thanks to Rock/Creek for always hooking me up with the freshest gear!

HUGE thanks to Fuel-100 Electro-bytes for making a product that saved me out there!!!

As always, thanks to my lovely wife for always encouraging me to be better!

The Streak! 2014

The streak:

1/11 – Blues Double (52.4M): 7:26 (3:45 on 1^st/3:41 on 2^nd)
1/18 – Feral Cat 50k (32.1M) – 5:34
1/25 – Chuckles 50k (31.5M) – 4:14
2/2 – Flat @ss 50k (32.1M) – 4:43
2/8 – 10 Hours of WTF (56M) – 9:10
2/15 – Moonlight Madness 50k (32M) – 6:19
2/22 – Mt. Cheaha 50k (31.5M) – 5:15, 11^th OA
3/1 – MS50 (50M) – 7:43, 3^rd OA
3/8 – GFL (57.9M) – 18:48
3/15 – Music City Ultra (31M) – 4:49, 2^nd OA
3/22 – 12 Hours of Belhaven (68.1M) – 11:31
3/29 – FUU (50.6) – 9:37
4/5 – Capt. Hickenlooper Memorial Ultra (32.4M) – 4:47
4/12 – .87-mile Ultra (40M) – 7:08
4/18 – Moonlight Madness 50k (32M) – 5:03
4/25 – GFC (47M) – 10:02 moving, 11:05 total
5/3 – Run for Kids 12-hour (65.62M) – 11:59:30, 2^nd OA

Total miles run from 1/11 to 5/3: 1449.4

The details:                                            

The streak…what was I thinking?

It began with a simple text message from a buddy, asking if I wanted to join him for a pre-running of the Mississippi Blues Marathon, starting at 3am. “Sure”, I thought…”why not? I will see you there!”…little did I know that he intended of bailing after round one, and there I would be, tackling the official marathon at 7am without him. Well, not being one to back out from an opportunity to run with my buddy, I jumped into it, and took on the double. During my run, I came up with this great idea…I realized that Thunder Rock was about 4 months out, and wouldn’t it be great to try and do an ultra-distance run every weekend, leading up to the last long run of the Grand Canyon! What better way to come off a severe strain on my achilles (that led to a DNF at Pinhoti in November) than to jump head first into such a well-though out, well- designed training plan.

But I knew that if I could pull it off, I would be in the best shape of my life, affording me the opportunity to perform with confidence at Thunder Rock. So off I went!

1/11 – Blues Double (52.4M): 7:26 (3:45 on 1^st/3:41 on 2^nd)

It’s always fun to participate in my adopted hometown of Jackson’s Blues Marathon. Always a class-act event…not too big, but not too small. I know the course well, and it was even more fun being able to do the first loop with my buddy Reed, a cancer survivor. Our run started in the rain with solid, uplifting banter with digressed quickly into meaningless fodder. Soon my time with Reed was up, and the gun went off on the official run. I felt well for a majority of the run, besides the time around mile 43 when I puked…no worries though…I dealt with it and finished up with a negative split from my first go-around.

1/18 – Feral Cat 50k (32.1M) – 5:34

I first did this run a few years ago. I get droppedoff32 miles from home, and find my way back. My buddy and I were dropped off by my wife on the side of the Natchez Trace Parkway, just outside of Clinton, MS. We carried our supplies with us, and made our way down the trace to Ridgeland, where we picked up the multipurpose trail to Pear Orchard Rd. After meandering through neighborhoods, we wound up on Lakeland, just a few miles from home. I looked back at my buddy, and seeing that he was gonna make it, I went ahead and pressed on the gas til I hit my front porch. No real concerns with this one…I felt a bit tired, but contributed it to the two weekends of pavement.

1/25 – Chuckles 50k (31.5M) – 4:14

Being tired of road running, I switched it up. I headed to the Ridgeland Mountain Bike park, and took on the Chuckles 50k. This run I did solo, and it consisted of loops of the about 3 mile trail. I felt great during the run, and fueled properly the whole time. What a difference proper fueling, and a change in surface can have! This was my best 50k time in a while.

2/2 – Flat @ss 50k (32.1M) – 4:43

As nice as the previous weekend had been, this was to be a nightmare of a run. First of all, I decided to do repeats on a stretch of a levee that runs parallel to the Pearl river. It measures a little over a mile one way…and my plan was to go at it…back and forth…til I got my mileage. Oddly enough, I found several friends to come out and run parts of it with me! As the day approached, I realized that there would be no escaping the coming deluge, as it was forecasted to rain non-stop all day. Never one to back down from the elements, I went at it…and it poured down rain the whole time. Let me just say for those of you that may not be familiar with the levee, it is flat as a board, and totally exposed…no trees, and nothing to block the wind. Just rain. My buddies did make it out for some of the run, and even my wife joined me. This certainly helped, but by the time I was on my last few miles, there I was…alone…on the levee…in the rain. “What am I doing?”

2/8 – 10 Hours of WTF (56M) – 9:10

Another great idea, spawned from my buddy who is as equally creative as I am at inventing runs. We headed to Bonita Lakes in Meridian, MS, to run about 4.5 mile loops around the park. The loops have some pretty acute uphills, which turned pretty dang steep during the course of the day. The footing is solid, as it presents more like double-track, or jeep road, with the remnants of pea gravel. The run was pretty routine, and I hit my fastest miles at about mile 37, which gave me great confidence for my runs going forward. I finished up in 9:10, knowing I didn’t want to blow it out trying to get in another loop under the ten hour mark.

2/15 – Moonlight Madness 50k (32M) – 6:19

Originally scheduled to start at midnight, this was a simple enough run on the streets of Madison, MS, incorporating the multipurpose trail as well. I actually talked my wife into joining me for the entirety of the run, and a few buddies originally said they would come out for the festivities too. The plan was to walk a mile and run a mile, til we had 32 miles. Easy enough. As the midnight hour approached, however, I became more and more sleepy, and as my eyelids closed, I posted that the run was postponed until 8am. No worries, as my friends had decided not to come out anyways. My wife and I completed our workout about 2pm, and even though we never saw the moon, the name stuck.

2/22 – Mt. Cheaha 50k (31.5M) – 5:15, 11^th OA

I did manage to schedule a few legitimate races in the streak, one of them being the Cheaha. I knew the course well, as I have done extensive amounts of running on the Pinhoti trail, both in training and in racing. I love this trail, and Todd Henderson does a top notch job putting on all his races. The course was beautiful. I maintained a pretty average pace during the majority of the race, pushing it on a few sections I know well. By the time the climb up Blue Hell came, however, I was feelin’ it! I struggled to maintain any sort of respectable posture, as it was hands-on-thighs, grasp-at-trees time for me. The top couldn’t come soon enough! Finally I broke through the darkness and was on the home stretch. Man, was I glad to call it a day!

3/1 – MS50 (50M) – 7:43, 3^rd OA

No rest for the weary! This is a race I do every year, swearing that I won’t do it again. But the hometown pull of my buddies Randy and Dennis keep me coming back, not to mention the free entry I keep getting being in the top 3! I stuck to my guns during the course of this run, and tried to run at an even keel. I ran the first loop or so with my buddy Ed, and had to let him go, seeing that his legs were turning much better than mine. As the sun rose heat of the day increased, folks began to struggle…me included! I worked hard to stay hydrated and fueled, and managed to hang on, passing up a few hurting folks, but not able to make up all the lost time on the leaders. I managed to creep into 3^rd…looks like I’ll be back next year!

3/8 – GFL (57.9M) – 18:48

Too much to say about this one…I will have the memories forever! This is a loop in the mountains of north Georgia, connecting the Benton Mackaye Trail, the Duncan Ridge Trail, and The Appalachian Trail. My buddy and I left Jackson, MS at 5am on Friday, were on the GFL loop by 3pm, and got done the next morning (Saturday), got in the car, and drove back to Jackson. I was up for over 40 hours…but man, what an experience! By far the toughest 50+ miles out there…the DRT is no joke!

3/15 – Music City Ultra (31M) – 4:49, 2^nd OA

Time for another race! I saw this on via Ultrasignup.com, and knew it was a must-do. The course profile was wicked, and the race descriptions sounded right up my alley. My wife and I took on the challenge, and we were not letdown. The climbs were freaking HUGE, the downhills felt as if you were getting ready to just roll down, and most of the time you felt like you were doing the Barkley…no real semblance of a trail anywhere outside the occasional confidence markers, and pitches without switchbacks…not to mention the briars, and numerous creek crossings! This was not a day, nor course for the weary or faint at heart, thus the low number of participants and finishers. A big thanks to Hardwin for putting this on…I will be back! And congrats to Bev for being first female!

3/22 – 12 Hours of Belhaven (68.1M) – 11:31

I helped put on a race this year called the Fondren Urban Ultra, which is run in the Fondren neighborhood here in Jackson. My plan was to run an RD version the weekend before, so that I could be more available during the race. However, my plans were thwarted by a “color” run on the course, as well as it being on the “zippidy do duh” parade route. So, I decided to go after the 12 hours of Belhaven, on a 5k loop I have that starts and finishes at my house. The loop is harder and has more vert, so I saw it as a good substitute. I had some company for a majority of the run, and this kept my pace and my spirits up. However, I never planned on running more than about 50 miles…and I didn’t fuel for going any further. By the time I had hit 100k, I decided to try and stretch the effort to 70. With my friends gone, and the sun bearing down, I bonked huge style. I was reduced to doing the zombie walk for the last          mile and a half, resting on the curb following every 200 yards or so. I was actually hoping someone would stop and see what was wrong with me, and give me a ride. At one point, I looked up, and I had no idea where I was, or which way to go to get home…even though I live there, and was less than a mile away! Needless to say, I was veeeery glad when this one was over!

3/29 – FUU (50.6M) – 9:37

I was the RD for this one…still got in a few miles though. It was great to see so many locals come out and participate, and to go farther than they ever thought that they could! What a privilege to be a part of such an awesome day!

4/5 – Capt. Hickenlooper Memorial Ultra (32.4M) – 4:47

A loop in the Vicksburg Military Park, starting and finishing at the statue of the ever-present Capt. Hickenlooper! The loop was just over a mile long, with one steep downhill and one long uphill…perfect training! My wife once again joined me for the fun, and boy did we have a great time (sarcasm). The day was deceivingly warm, but I had learned my lesson, and stayed nice ‘n’ fueled up! My plan was to steadily run the uphill part, and hammer the downhill part, so as to expose my legs to some good stress. I stuck to the plan, and before I knew it, it was quitting time! But as any good glutton for punishment would do, I quickly took off on one last loop, cutting it in half by going cross-country up the real steep pitch, and the most direct route back to the statue.

4/12 – .87-mile Ultra (40M) – 7:08

This was a rough run. I really didn’t feel right until about mile 35…dunno if that’s good or not. I just couldn’t find a rhythm. I had several friends come out periodically and join me for loops on the .87 mile trail at the Ridgeland Mountain Bike park. This loop has right at 100 feet of vertical each loop, so maybe that added to my stress…combined with the cumulative fatigue of the weeks prior. No worries though! I stayed fueled up, and despite numerous occasions of talking myself into quitting, I persevered, and made it through 46 loops!

4/18 – Moonlight Madness 50k (32M) – 5:03

A replay of the first Moonlight Madness run, except I did it solo this time, and decided to run the first ten miles, then get into a pattern of walking one mile, and running two. My mind was elsewhere on this run, knowing that the following weekend I would be at the Grand Canyon. I ran into one of my buddies that was going on the trip while I was out there, and we had a good time thinking and wondering what the following weekend would bring…I was ready to hit the canyon! But I stayed with my game plan, and stayed patient, and despite all the walking and jogging, still managed to get in right at five hours…I could tell I was excited!

4/25 – GFC (47M) – 10:02 moving, 11:05 total

This was the third time I have been fortunate enough to make a go at the Canyon. I have tried to establish a tradition of a Man-cation every other April to the GFC, and this year I had several buddies make the trip with me. We started our out-and-back on Friday morning at about 3am. Our route would take us down Bright Angel trail, up North Kaibab, returning the same way we came.

My plan was to hit it, and try to go under ten hours. When I started my watch and headed down the trail, I quickly realized I would be alone in my quest for sub-10. No one was following. I hit the river a bit slow, I guess due to my tentative downhill running stride. Cursed! Nothing I can do living in Jackson, MS to improve that ever-important part of the game…I have nowhere to practice my nerve-impulse response time, nor to really exacerbate the quads like I need to. I was still in the game though…and made my way through the box in a timely fashion, enjoying the sunrise as it painted the walls of the emerging north rim.

Soon the left turn at cottonwood was here, and it was time to climb. I recently purchased an incline trainer, and the benefits have really paid off…I was able to make good time up the climb, getting to the trailhead right at 5 hours. However, I kinda had a feeling that a return trip would take longer than 5 hours. I sat down for a few minutes, eating a bonk breaker and getting some fluids down the hatch. I had just enough fluid left to make it back to cottonwood, so off I went. Following a quick decent, I was stopped in my tracks by some trail maintenance workers. They were repairing a washout on the trail, and the subsequent rock slide that had occurred. With the added break, I knew that 10 hours was a dream. I settled down, was patient, and thanked the workers for their hard work. Soon enough I was back at it, steaming down the trail.

I passed up my buddies as they made their way up, giving a quick word of encouragement as I passed. I didn’t look at the clock, so I’m not sure when I crossed the Colorado, but seeing it in the light of the day was awesome! The past years the water level has been low, and the water has been brown…not this time! It was as blue as the sky, up high, and raging full force! It was a wonderful sight to see, and a running companion as I made my way through the dunes, to the devil’s staircase.

Up up up I went…bordering on dehydration, but confident I was gonna make it. I ran in to one of my buddies who had turned around early, and we hiked for about a mile together. I soon found another gear, and hit it on up. At the 9:15 mark, I found myself in no man’s land, in the sun, with low water left, and no food…but I still had a ways to go! I had to get my act together. I laid down in the shade on a rock on the side of the trail, and wrapped my mind around what I had to do: I had to get out…no matter that i was out of food and electrolytes, and had very little water left...this didn’t change the fact that there was still just one way out! After devising a plan of action (Get up and get going), I was off…and amazingly I was given yet another gear…soon I flew by the 3 mile rest house, and then the one and a half mile rest house, then through the tunnel, and BOOM! Got er done in just over 11 hours.

The next day brought a near-blizzard for my out n back down the south Kaibab trail. I was the only one out of our crew to venture down the ditch that day, and for good reason. The start saw high mph wind gusts coupled with white out conditions…the only thing that motivated me that this was not that bad of an idea were the other cars parked in the lot…other crazies besides me!

I made my way gingerly down the slick trail, aware that I was going pretty slow, but not really caring. Once out of the elements, I was able to really see the canyon, and it was awesome! The sunlight letting through the holes in the clouds created patches of colors on the canyon below me…really cool! The lower into the canyon I got, the warmer and drier it became, and the faster I was able to move. Soon I found the motivation to commit to getting to the river…so off I went…until I rounded a turn and saw two  mule trains just below…I made the heart-breaking decision to turn around just before the river.

On my way up, I really could tell the benefit that my incline trainer has done for me. I was able to move at a pretty fast clip! I was even toying with the idea of going even for both the decent and ascent…I put in some good work, but alas, I ran into the rear of a mule train that I had past closer to the top, and they weren’t budging. I kept my watch running as I walked behind the train…to add to the frustration, the last mule farted while I was walking behind it…boooooo!

I ended up walking the last .4 miles out, and finished in 3 hours…1:20 down and 1:40 out…12 total miles, and despite the mules, an awesome ending to an incredible weekend of running. And that was to be the end of the streak!

5/3 – Run for Kids 12-hour (65.62M) – 11:59:30, 2^nd OA

Maybe not. I had planned to make the trip to the RFK with my wife, who was there to defend her title. I was gonna goof off in the Oak Mtn State Park, doing some light running and hiking while she dominated. But then the RD, David, sent me a free invite, and I just couldn’t say no! So there I was, a week removed from the GFC and 17 weeks into the streak, toeing the line. The course is 3.3 mile loops, with the last hour being set on an about 1 mile loop. My plan was to run the first two hours, then run/walk the next eight hours, and then run the last two hours. I stuck to my plan up until when I caught up with my wife…I had to run with her for a bit. She was setting a great pace, and was clearly comfortable. I stuck with her for a few hours, never really having any idea of how far I had gone, or what place I was in…I was just there to have a good run. At the ten hour mark, I stuck to my plan, and hit it pretty hard. I got in 3 more big loops until I finished with time enough for a few small loop. I ran one, then another, and with the announcement of eight minutes left, set into a forceful, uncomfortable pace, determined to get in one more. I wanted to give it my best effort, and run to the bell. I finished my last loop with 30 seconds to spare. I soon found out that the guy behind me, who finished his last loop with just like 8 seconds to spare, is the guy who won, and if he hadn’t finished that lap, I would have won! No worries though…I got in plenty of miles for the day!

A friend of mine stopped me in the hall this morning, asking me where I was running this weekend. I informed him I was taking it easy. “The streak is over?” he gasped. “Yes, it is.”

And that’s the streak. Thanks to God for the ability to run, and for keeping me healthy throughout. Thanks to my wife, who is patient with me beyond belief, and without whose encouragement, I would have collapsed in a heap numerous times. Thanks to Rock/Creek, whose jersey I pimped on every run. And a big thanks to all my buddies who came out and encouraged me week upon week…especially Reed, who planted the seeds of the streak without even knowing it!

Now to rest my legs, fine tune my climbing, and get ready for Thunder Rock!