#1: Avoid panic by warming up. Panic, a frequent complaint in open water swims, happens to some of the strongest and ablest of swimmers. And it may have happened to you. The best way to prevent panic is to get an adequate warm-up. The swim warm-up is the most disregarded of the essential pre-race activities. If at all possible, get in, get moving and get acclimated to the cold. Not only will you get your cardiovascular system ready for the impending start, but you can test your goggles and wetsuit for mechanical problems.

Why is panic so common? There is a well-studied physiological response called the “diving reflex.” Simply stated, when a human or other mammal submerges their face in cold water, there is an immediate reflex which slows the heart rate and narrows the blood vessels in the extremities. This reflex conserves oxygen for the brain and enables diving mammals such as whales and dolphins to stay submerged for prolonged periods. Unfortunately the reflex does not afford us the same advantage. When starting a triathlon, the last thing you want to do is to lower your heart rate and constrict the flow of blood to your arms and legs. Without an adequate warm-up, the diving reflex will win out over your adrenaline and it will deprive you of the oxygen you need. You will become anaerobic. Fear of drowning will overcome you and you will be in full panic mode. It’s physiology. The diving reflex exists in our brain stem (or some dark recess)… a remnant from our primordial ‘aquatic’ past. Warm up and have a great swim! For more information go to swim open water.net (Top Ten Ways…)
Watch for Installment II coming soon.

I am done with winter. Done. Someone, please, just make the cold go away. Winter has been beautiful and yes, I have enjoyed running in the snowy wonderland week after week this year. My inner clock tells me that it is time for spring. So why did the weather gurus just issue another winter weather advisory? I am starting to think the snow gods are mocking me. Don’t they know that I have spring fever? The only cure is sunshine, warm weather, and a day outdoors, not more snow.

I love watching the progression of seasons and nowhere do I see it better than when I am running. Out on the trails, I am witness to the slow but steady change from frost to mud to green to harvest, then the fading back to winter again. As I run the same trails week to week, I see the subtle changes that signal the spring season is upon us. It’s gradual at first: the moss seems just a little more green than last week. The bluebirds have traded their drab winter feathers for vivid blue in the same way I’ve traded winter tights for shorts. I heard spring peepers this past week, a sure sign in Indiana that spring can’t be far away.

Today was a lovely spring morning. It was surprisingly warm, too warm for the clothes I’d originally set out. It was good to start a run without being chilled for a change. Miles are ramping up as training for spring races gets serious. The wildflowers will be blooming soon, the morels will be in season, and the woods will return to deep shades of green. I even look forward to complaining about the heat instead of the cold.

For now though, the forecast calls for snow. After my initial disgusted reaction, I look at the forecast again. If it’s going to snow anyway, I may as well time my run so I can be on the trail as the flakes are falling. Suddenly, a snowy run sounds like the most magical thing in the world and I want to be there. Funny how that happens, isn’t it? Spring fever to winter rapture all in the space of 30 minutes. I’m starting to think that every season is perfect for a run.

While road-tire treads are strikingly similar, off-road tires come in so many models it can be confusing, initially, trying to pick one out. The key to making a successful choice of either tire type is selecting the appropriate tire for the terrain you’ll be riding.

Tires For The Road.  Looking for a little added traction from a road tire? Consider getting one with traction grooves, which some experts believe provide added control in wet and dry conditions. (Other experts claim that road tires are so narrow that any tread placed on them has a negligible effect. We’ll help you decide, based upon our own experiences.) Innovative modern clincher casings can provide an extremely lively and resilient ride, comparable to what you would expect from a premium tubular (a type of tire used by professional racers where the tube is actually sewn inside). A new rubber compound, silica, is found in quite a few new upper-end road tires. Silica improves adhesion and lowers rolling resistance without sacrificing tread durability.

Off-Road Tires: Tubes Or Tubeless?  When buying new tires, first determine if your bike uses standard tube tires, which contain an inner tube inside the tire, or if yours use the tubeless type, which don’t include tubes. The illustration shows how these tire types differ.

Tubeless tires do away with tubes by using a special rim, tire and rim strip that seals the tire so an inner tube isn’t necessary (though you can use one if you wish). The advantage of tubeless tires is being able to run lower tire pressures, which provides additional traction, control and comfort. This is possible because there’s no tube to damage should you hit a pothole or rock and bottom out the tire. If there’s a disadvantage to tubeless tires, it’s that they are a bit more fussy, and because there’s no tube, if there’s even a small leak, you have to figure out where it’s coming from and how to fix it whereas on a standard tire and tube set-up, you can easily patch or replace the tube to repair leaks.

Off-Road-Tire Tread For Soft Conditions.  For soft conditions, loose rock, and loose climbs, pick a fairly wide tire with tall, broad, paddle-like knobs. It’s important that the tread’s knobs have a stable base, for traction when you lean them over on a hard surface. Tread that is overly flimsy can also lead to durability problems. Tires for soft conditions are usually front- or rear-wheel specific.

Off-Road-Tire Tread For Hardpack.  For hardpacked surfaces, there are tires that have closely spaced small knobs, and sometimes no center knobs at all. They can be narrower than soft-condition tires as well. If there are rocks strewn into your hardpack, use a smooth but wide tire. Another key to getting a good hardpack tire is making sure that the knob is at least twice as wide at the base as it is tall. If it’s too tall, the tire will deflect under hard cornering loads.

Off-Road-Tire Tread For Mud.  If you think you may encounter mud on a trail with few options for avoiding it, the key is to use narrow tires with widely spaced lugs. Wider tires will jam your frame stays and fork with mud. Narrow tires can also penetrate through the soft mud on top and reach the harder ground below for better traction. Choose longer knobs for more grip, or shallower knobs for lower rolling resistance where there’s no mud. We’ve got a wide selection of tires for any situation. Talk with us and we’ll point you in the right direction.

About Gray Goat Sports:

First, it means top-notch customer service to help you find what you need. Next, it means service training and expertise. Our staff of assembly and repair mechanics is factory authorized for work on most any brand of bike, even if you didn’t buy it from us.

Location:

7750 S. Meridian Street  Suite A
Indianapolis, IN 46217
Phone: 317-780-GOAT (4628)

Basic Kit.  For the most common breakdown, a flat tire, carry a spare tube and tire levers (these make it easy to remove the tire and they usually come in sets of two or three). A patch kit for repairing one of your tubes if you have a second flat. A tire boot (a 1- x 2-inch patch or an old section of tire) for tire cuts (the boot is placed between the tube and tire to cover the hole). A chain tool (illustration) allows you to fix a broken or damaged chain. And, a mini-tool (some include chain tools) with 4, 5 and 6mm Allen wrenches and screwdrivers will allow you to adjust most of the bike’s bolts. And, always carry cash for food and to call someone in case of the rare failure that you can’t fix.

Grease Be Gone.  Other handy things to carry include a little hand cleaner (paste types work well) and a small rag to scrub your hands after completing a repair. A great way to carry cleaner is to pack it into an empty 35-mm film container and stow it in your seatbag.

Make Sure Your Mini-Tool Has What You Need.  When selecting your all-in-one mini-tool, test it on your bike. Bicycles and components vary and not all tools work well on all bikes. Check to see if yours can access the brake and derailleur adjustments; if the chain tool looks sensible; if the all-in-one includes the right tools for your bike. Chain tools can turn out to be great ride savers should your or a friend’s links fail, but some tools don’t include them.

Carrying Tools Helps Others Help You.  You might think that it’s senseless to carry tools and supplies if you don’t know how to fix your bike. But, if you carry the right stuff, you’ll at least have what you need and can try to repair things. Also, you’ll have what’s needed in case another cyclist stops to help.

Pack A Manual, Too.  If you’re a novice mechanic, consider tucking a small repair book in your kit with your tools. This might require carrying everything in a slightly larger bag, but it’ll pay dividends if the advice in the book helps you successfully repair your bike.??Don’t leave that repair book in your kit, either. If you read it before the ride, you’ll have a better idea where to begin when things go wrong. You can also learn about repair by watching friends fix their bikes. Bicycles are fairly user friendly and with a little know-how, experience and the right tools, minor repairs are easy to fix.

About Gray Goat Sports:

First, it means top-notch customer service to help you find what you need. Next, it means service training and expertise. Our staff of assembly and repair mechanics is factory authorized for work on most any brand of bike, even if you didn’t buy it from us.

Location:

7750 S. Meridian Street  Suite A
Indianapolis, IN 46217
Phone: 317-780-GOAT (4628)

I started running alone, in the dark of morning where no one could witness the epic battle. I’m not exaggerating. Before I became a runner I spent many years avoiding excessive movement. Instead I opted for immobility, cigarettes and beer. The battle to become a runner was not a pretty one, which is why it was a benefit to the world that I did it in the privacy of pre-dawn hours.

After my first three successful-ish half marathons, I started to consider a full marathon. I mean when you’ve done a little crazy and it came out alright, why not add a little more? But, I knew I needed help. That’s where my running group came in….

When I tell people about my running group; it’s typically hearts and rainbows. They are my family by choice (rather than the family I was born into). But when I started with the group it was a bit stressful for me. I had done some running with a couple of gals, but it was mainly a Saturday thing and we never really stuck together, just some accountability to get going.

So here I was at a running group. Here’s a summary:

Awkward getting to know you game.
Everyone else appears to know everything.
“Coach” is seven years old (maybe I exaggerate) but seems nice enough.
Wearing new shoes that turn out to be awful. (Why did I wear new shoes?)
Quick explanation of what a fartlek is and the workout we will be doing
Finally some running!!!!!

My nerves got the best of me and I went out too fast. So, around a mile and a half I’m huffing and puffing and losing the group. Out of nowhere comes a sweet gal that starts talking to me and we split off to run a slightly modified route. Then, she said the magic words that were music to my ears… “THIS IS WHERE I NORMALLY TAKE A WALK BREAK”. Thank god! I can’t remember her name, and she moved away shortly after that, but her simple act of helping me get through my first group run kept me coming to the group.

I think of that run sometimes when a new runner comes to the group or someone seems to be having a bad running day. And sometimes I might change my run to help them through theirs. Maybe I run a few less miles, or maybe I go a little slower than I planned to. I see it as paying it forward. If you love running and the people that run, a small thing can add another person to the running community. And let’s face it… wouldn’t adding a few more runners to the world make it a better place?

As of today I’ve run 19 half marathons and 5 full marathons. I have gone about this in all kinds of different ways. I’ve trained obsessively, I’ve only pretended I was training, and I’ve run a couple races without really working out a training plan. As you would probably guess, I’ve had varying results.

Now it’s time to start thinking of the next round of training. What to do, what to do….

This spring I have big ambitions. I’m hoping to complete my first 50k on trails in May. And when I say complete I mean COMPLETE not COMPETE. A day in the woods with a couple hundred of my friends (we’re all friends on the trail, right) and the title of ultra runner.Those are my goals.

So, I went online and started searching for training plans, and they scared the crap out of me. Oh my gosh! Who has the time to run that much? And speaking of time, what good does a time based training plan do a slow runner? Time based training programs are useless to a gal like me. Run for x amount of hours means I might not even get enough mileage to train for a half marathon! Time based training is a no go for this gal. Miles based training programs? I’m interested. Sure there’s a lot of running, but I didn’t expect to run a 50k by training on 3 mile runs. So I found one that I was at least interested in and penciled in the long runs. That’s a start, right?

I also did one thing that NEVER would have made sense to me years ago when I was training for my first half marathon or marathon. I started looking for races to do as training runs. When I first started running longer races, I saw only my goal race. All runs, all workouts, all mileage ups and down were based on getting me to the start and finish line of that one magical race. No pressure, right?

So I started doing a thing where I sign up for a few fun races along the way. While training for a full marathon, I could run a half on a week where I’m cutting back on miles. Maybe not RACING the race, but having a training run in a different environment is a nice thing, like a long run with water stops. It also takes off some of the pressure of putting all of your hopes on one day. What if it rains? What if I sprain an ankle? What if I get sick? What if my dinner turns my insides into outsides? If my A race goes to crap, at least I got a race in!
Logical? It seemed logical until I started considering my schedule this spring. My A race is a 50k… so I think I’m going to do a full marathon in April as a training run! All of those words would not make sense to me if I had said them even a year ago. But my reality has been skewed by more and more races. The more you run, the less sense you make.

In the end, I have a couple half marathons and a full marathon on my training schedule for this spring’s 50K. That way if the 50k doesn’t work out, I’ve still gotten a marathon in, right?

Hockey has often been described as going to a bar fight and a sporting event breaks out. Similarly Cyclocross can be described as going to Mardi Gras and a bike race breaks out.

No race recently has exemplified that more than the World Championships in Louisville. Sure there were races going on, but roughly 10,000 people from all over the world in 1 small park for 4 races in half a day, drinking, cheering, heckling, costumes, cheering, eating, cheering… did I mention the cheering .. Deafening!.

Then there is the passion of the euro fan. A couple next to where some of us were standing were rabid Sven Nys fans. Everything they owned had his name on it. From clothes to a Belgian flag to a giant umbrella. When Nys won the race both of them stopped I their tracks hugged each other and started crying as if they had just won the lottery. Hands over mouths in disbelief. As USA fans we know if Powers, Page or others had won we would have screamed our heads off, but not cry! Just another level of passion entirely.

I’m not a fast runner and even after six years of running, I still see myself as a beginner. I didn’t start running until I was in my late 30′s, so I’ve always been a bit envious of the folks who discovered the joys of running as youngsters. I especially admired those hard-core runners who were so tough that they ran on trails. Running on roads is challenging enough. Add in running up and down hills, tripping over roots, crossing creeks, and falling on rocks? Someday when I became a “real” runner, I’d be able to do that. And so I passed the first 5 years of my running life.

Hiking has always been a passion of mine and I distinctly remember my first encounter with someone running trails. My husband and I were hiking in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park years ago, specifically the trail to Alum Cave Bluff. A man came tearing up the mountain behind us, zipped around us and quickly disappeared from view. Wow! I thought I was in decent enough shape, but no way I was crazy or fit enough to run on a mountain! We caught up to the runner at the Bluff and I had to ask him about the running. He told me that it was his daily routine: run to the Bluff and back down again. I was in awe. How amazing it would be to able to do that, but this was obviously never going to be part of my reality.

The next few years passed, I started my own Couch to 5k program, and worked my way up to a road marathon. I vowed never to run another because I found the long miles on the road to be an exercise in tedium. At my pace, a 20 mile run takes f.o.r.e.v.e.r. Ugh. Never again. So how do I explain how much I enjoyed running the Planet Adventure Eagle Creek Marathon in August 2012? What finally convinced me that superhuman effort is NOT needed to run on trails? A dear friend encouraged me to give it a try and the look of pure joy when she talked about running trails inspired me. I’m still not sure how I found the nerve to make the leap but I’m so glad that I did. What encouragement do I have to offer to other new runners who are debating whether they should try trail running?

No traffic or onlookers.

Yes, it’s silly and I know I shouldn’t care, but I am still self-conscious, especially on those days when my legs feel like heavy bricks and I’d rather just call it quits. On the trail, the only other people out there are like-minded folks out to enjoy a day in the woods. Whether it’s another runner, a family out for a walk, or someone backpacking, we’re all out there because we WANT to be. It’s a mood-boost just to see someone else enjoying the same adventure, a brief shared experience, and a reminder of how lucky we are to be able to be out there. It’s like we are privy to some deep secret: can you believe that we get to be out here and see this? Nobody is honking at you to hurry up and cross the street, no hoodlum is yelling “Run, Forest, RUN!”, and no watchful critical eyes as you run by the bus-stop. It’s just you, other nature lovers, and the the squirrels.

It’s ok to walk.

Don’t get me wrong: I would be the last one to criticize someone for walking during a run. I ran my road marathon using the Galloway method. In my insecurity, I felt that somehow this meant that I was “cheating”, that I wouldn’t be a real runner until I completed the distance without a walk break. Guess what? When you run trails, not only is it ok, but even the elites walk as part of their race strategy. When my friend and I began training for the PA Eagle Creek race, we knew that our plan was to run what was downhill and flat, but to walk the uphills when we had to. I suppose that there are probably still folks who scoff at that, but knowing that the winners of many ultramarathons are using this strategy tells me that it works and it is legitimate.

It’s good for you.

Road running, as much as I like it, uses the same muscles over and over in a pretty monotonous pattern. Trail running requires you to constantly vary your stride, your turnover, and throws in random lateral movements that just don’t happen with road running. You will be using and strengthening muscles that road running doesn’t need. You will improve your balance. At some point, you will roll an ankle, stub a toe, or slip in the mud. The first time, you may hit the ground. The second, third, and fourth as well. Then one day you roll an ankle, hop it off, and realize how close you came to wiping out, but you didn’t. Your sense of proprioception (knowing where your body is) has become acute enough that even when you should have fallen, you didn’t. In that brief instant after you stubbed your toe, you corrected the problem without even thinking about it. To me, those near-falls remind me how much I’ve learned and how much stronger my body has gotten.

The substrate is kinder.

Speaking of falls, I’ve fallen on trails and I’ve fallen on roads. I’ll take falling on a trail anyday over eating pavement. My last crash and burn on a road run left me with scars on my hand, knee, and elbow. I’ve gotten scraped up on trail stumbles, too, but just bounced back up and kept on. Even hard-packed dirt is going to be easier on you than a sidewalk. Along those same lines, running on dirt is easier on your joints. A lot of those little aches and pains that I was battling during my road running have either eased up or disappeared with running trails.

Your form will probably improve.

I say probably because maybe you are one of those fortunate runners blessed with perfect form from the start. I’m not. If you’re like me, trail running refines your gait in slow and steady ways. When you run on trails, overstriding is an invitation to a wipe-out. Keeping your feet under you is part of staying upright and if you try to cheat this, sooner or later you’ll get an up-close view of the leaf litter on the trail. In some ways, the trail is more forgiving than roads but not on this one.

It always feels like an adventure.

I have my favorite trails, but even after visiting the same ones time after time, there is always something new. As the seasons change, I learn that a certain bluff gives a stunning view of the lake after the leaves have fallen, that this ridgetop is all pine, or that the creekbeds aren’t always dry. The trail that you thought you knew like the back of your hand gives up its secrets slowly as the months go by. It’s always changing and evolving, finding new ways to reveal its beauty. Don’t ever take it for granted because next week it will be different in some small subtle way. I think this is my favorite reason for running trails, it’s just an excuse for me to be out there so I can be witness to and a part of this amazing world.

I am still a back of the pack runner on roads and trails. I’ve been that runner crossing the finish line dead-last. I’ve missed out on the post-race food because the other finishers have already eaten it all. I’ve interrupted award ceremonies as I cross the finish line. Ok, that last one is actually a fun thing to do, I highly recommend it. Nothing like having the whole crowd stop what they’re doing, all of your speedy friends cheering you in, as you finish your race. It’s quite a trip, I tell you.

My advice is don’t wait until you’re a faster runner, a stronger runner, or a more experienced runner before you try your feet on trails. Those things will come whether you’re running the road or the trail. You may as well be in a place that you enjoy while you work your way through that process. Concrete vs dirt. Car exhaust vs pine. Truck engines vs birdsong. Not much of a debate in my mind.

“It hurts up to a point and then it doesn’t get any worse.”

Even though I am a self-described quote-junkie, I was having trouble appreciating this quote in the throes of the massive pain I was feeling.

Thus was my surreal introduction to the world of ultra marathons. Technically, my first ultra had come four months prior in December 2010 in Huntington at the HUFF50K. While it was five miles longer than a regular marathon, for some reason there was nothing “ultra” about it. Not to say it wasn’t hard; run in the snow and wind with temps hovering in the low teens, it was my hardest run up to that point…

…Then came Planet Adventure’s Winona Lake trail ultramarathon in April of 2011.

The massive pain I was feeling had reared its ugly head around the 45-mile mark. The course consisted of five ten-mile loops, and the first four had gone by as planned: run, drink, eat, repeat. I shuffled up to the first aid station on the fifth loop and was overcome with a sense of exhaustion. It was a mild spring night in northern Indiana and it was completely dark outside. My world and sense of vision was confined to what I could see in front of me with my headlamp – that is to say, not much. Every runner at some point or another finds themselves in the grip of self-doubt, wondering “What am I doing out here and, more importantly, why am I doing it?” This was my first such moment like that. I knew I had about 7 miles left to the finish…but it may as well have been 70.

I felt very alone at the aid station as I ate some trail mix and gulped some HEED. It was after 10pm and I’m in the middle of an unfamiliar park on a Saturday night. Yay, trail running! But then, something unexpected happened. A very eerie sense of calm washed over me. I could hear the occasional whoopin’ and hollerin’ of other runners still on the course slicing through the still of the night, but the voices were now clearer and louder. So, too, were the firefly-like lights of headlamps that every so often permeated the blackness that surrounded me. My fatigue and soreness were a very real factor at that point, but I felt I was destined and determined to finish the race no matter what.

As a runner – specifically an endurance runner – you train your mind to rationalize things. “Only seven miles left…that’s barely more than a 10K.” “See that tree up there? Forget everything else, just make it to that tree.” “Running stupid long distances isn’t crazy…it’s healthy for you and at least you’re not addicted to crack.” My mind was slowly derailing from the tracks, evolving into a whirlwind of gratitude, nostalgia, wonderment and pride. “Now I get it! Now I see why people do this!” I thought to myself. The high of purposely pushing your body past its breaking point into a new realm brings a euphoria that few know.

Before I know it, I’m at the next aid station. “How’d I get here? How many miles did I just run?” I muttered aloud to no one in particular. Suddenly, the last loop was half over! The finish line was so close that I envisioned myself crossing it in slow motion, not unlike the beach running scene from “Chariots of Fire.” (In reality, it would more closely resemble a 101 year-old man with gout and a bad hip trying to run on rollerskates).

I make my way over a rickety bridge and start my ascent on a hill. I pass an older guy who is part-walking, part-walking, part…something, and he releases a large amount of gas from his lower intestine. He then turns to me and says “Take ‘er on home now.” So I did. My stride lengthened just a hint, and my gaze lifted as my legs found a new purpose while I thought of the day’s events that had transpired. The friendliness and camaraderie of the other runners, the helpfulness and the volunteers, and the race director who had sang the National Anthem himself before the race. I was very appreciative and had not been a part of anything like that before.

After a few stumbles and close calls (who put that tree root there?), I could now hear the PA system playing music and see lights through the trees. The finish! Excitement! Exhilaration! Relief! Rounding a corner and into a clearing, I see the clock in bright red numbers. After starting at 2:30pm and running for over nine hours, it was mere minutes from midnight. Yet, there I was…upright, coherent and about to finish my first 50-mile trail run. I crossed the finish line as they announced my name and a volunteer put the finisher’s medal around my neck (made from wood within the park, a most excellent Planet Adventure tradition). A few spectators were still milling about, and I removed my hat and gulped some water while slowly taking in my surroundings. My ankles were raw, my quads were burning, and my shoulders were tight. But I noticed that after I surrendered to the flow and let my mind wander…the pain never got any worse.

Maybe Ann Trason was right after all.