Dirty Running

21 Day Cleanse Update -- Day 3

2013-05-16T16:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I've been off meat, sugar, gluten, caffeine and alcohol for 3 days now, and the changes have been amazing. I have tons of energy, the sex has been amazing, I ran track yesterday morning and set my mile PR doing mile repeats, and I rarely pass gas, but when I do, it smells like a mixture of baby powder and freshly picked lavender.

Just kidding, but I have been shitting...a lot.

I've had a 3-day headache, the energy has really dipped, especially during the above-mentioned track workout where I was lapped a couple of times during mile repeats. As for the sex, my wife has been "busy" catching up on old Walking Dead episodes (and with the way I've felt over the last couple of days, I kind of expect to hear "we've got a walker" followed by a Daryl-launched arrow through my eye-socket).

I know, this is just the detox period and my body is getting rid of toxins, blah, blah, blah, go ahead and write that in the comments. I dare you.

Here is a journal of what I have been eating.

Day 1:
Lunch: kitchen sink salad with sprouts, beets, carrots, chickpeas and avocados
Dinner: homemade sopes (it's like a big, thick corn tortilla cake) with refried beans, and guacamole

Day 2:
Breakfast: oatmeal with crushed almonds and dates
Lunch: kale, ginger, and sesame rice bowl at Native Foods with a hot date
Dinner: baghali polo (Persian dish with rice, lima beans, and dill with saffron carrots and onions on top)

Day 3:
Breakfast: Kind granola with almond milk
Lunch: Chickpea Indian curry over brown rice (this was really good, bought from Sprouts)

Snacks: USANA's Go Nuts n Berries Bar (these have saved me), post-run shake (almond milk, bananas, chia seeds, and cacao nibs), Inka corn nuts, and chips and salsa.

It's not really that bad. I'm starting to feel normal, my energy has come back, and the food has actually been good, although I detected a tear fall from my wife's eyes as she served the Persian dish without any meat. Luckily, she decided to join me on the 3-week cleanse; I just feel sorry for our kids.

Thanks for reading.

21 Day Cleanse

2013-05-14T10:48:00.000-07:00

Some of my better decisions have been made in the haze of a lingering hangover. I drank too much last night, and that second helping garlic bread has formed a salt/butter/wheat ball in my stomach, so after my second cup of coffee, I've decided to embark on a 21 day cleanse.

I have been proud of not denying myself food/alcohol/desserts. In fact, this past weekend, I was having a conversation with someone dressed as Michael Jackson, or maybe it was Spicoli or Madonna; it was definitely someone at Kara's Awesome 80s Prom Party. After a few good beers and a couple of glasses of something called cucumber lemonade (pretty sure there was something other than cucumbers and lemonade). I was explaining about how good food and good beer go with running, and how I would never deprive myself because, well, that's part of the reason I run so much. It's a good theory, especially as told to a white(r) Michael Jackson while steadying myself with one hand grasping the counter and another holding a Sculpin, but right now, after a week of post-race binge eating and drinking, I'm feeling the effects, I think in modern medical terminology, this condition is known as bad humours.'

I'm a firm believer in moderation. I don't believe in the (insert the shake/fruit/fad of the month here) diets, but I do know that I need a break from the overindulgence of the past few months.

I'm using this site as a guide and I'm committed to removing the following from my diet for the next 21 days:

Sugar

Alcohol

Caffeine

Animal Products

Gluten

Everyone does a before and after shot for these things, right? Here's mine.

Part of me just sees this as a challenge, something to test my willpower, and that's the main reason I'm posting this. I figure if I put it out there, I will be more accountable and more likely to follow through with the test.

I'll try to post a weekly update on my progress, and if I don't, just picture me like this:

I also pledge to not preach about this, mainly because I hate being told what and how to eat, except if the advice is from a fruitarian, but just because...fruitarian.

Miwok

2013-05-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

Photo credit: Glenn Tachiyama

When I heard the news that the Miwok 100K had been cut to a 60K because of fire danger, I wasn't very disappointed. I guess there is some unwritten rule that a shortened course is bad news, but to be honest, I was okay with it. I had woken up at 3 AM to get to Stinson Beach by 4, and the start time was changed to 8. I tried my best to sleep in the car while the hardworking race director and volunteers did what they needed to do to re-organize the course on short notice. They did a remarkable job.

I told myself before the start that even though the race had been cut short, 60K was still a lot of Ks and I should resist the temptation to run fast at the beginning. So, I lined up with the elites and bounded up the stairs of the steep Dipsea Trail. I've never been good at listening to advice.

The hills caught up to me and I realized I wasn't running a 5K, so I slowed it down and really tried to enjoy the day. The views were amazing. The last time I was on the course was to pace my friend Jeremy a couple of years ago on a foggy and rainy day. I kept hearing about how stunning the views were, if only you could see them. This year I saw them, clear skies and smooth trails overlooking San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge, rugged coastline, single track winding through sequoia forests, and steep stairs on the famous Dipsea Trail. I don't want to bust out too many superlatives, but the scenery on the Miwok course was breathtaking (I would even go as far as calling it mind bottling).

Speaking of breathtaking

I did my fair share of talking out on the course, but it seems that most of the people that I was around were pushing really hard due to the shortened course, and that, combined with the heat, made for a lot of struggle. There also seemed to be a lot of racing out there. I know that sounds weird, but some races don't really feel like races, they feel like spending time with friends on the trail, getting to know people and bonding through the pain. This felt like a race, and that's not necessarily a good thing. That probably sounds kind of stupid, because I signed up for a race, so I'll just leave it at that (before I start to sound like an old, whiny ultrarunner...oops, too late).

A few of the highlights of the day included bacon at the Tennessee Valley aid station (thanks Vanessa) and the last three (downhill) miles of the Dipsea Trail. I didn't really know what to expect time-wise from a 60K, so I figured 7 hours would be a good target to shoot for. I finished in 6:47, so I was pretty happy about that, too.

I'm definitely ready to take a break from racing for awhile and I'm very excited to start doing some more specific training for the John Muir Trail where I'll be racing Jess Downer.

Finish line bliss courtesy of Lagunitas Brewing

Thanks for reading.

Boston.

2013-04-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

It is too early to make sense of the Boston marathon bombing. It was senseless. An attack meant to instill fear, and it will succeed to the extent that we change our events, our lives because of this fear.

Boston holds a special place in the hearts of runners. The legends and mythology is passed on from runner to runner in books, movies, and stories told between haggard breaths on group runs. Names like Salazar, Switzer, and Mutai are repeated and passed on. The stories are of struggle, equality, a new life in an African village, and everyday runners who push a little harder to be able to qualify and run through the streets of Boston on Patriot's Day. The Boston Marathon pushes people to go faster than they thought they could, it is our proving ground, a benchmark, and if you are fast enough to don that bright blue and yellow jacket, to be a member of that club, you gain the respect and sometimes envy of other runners who know what it takes to earn that ticket.

And now someone decided to fuck with that.

When I think of the 2013 Boston marathon, I'll remember this tragic act of terrorism, but I'll also remember sitting at my computer, refreshing the results screen hoping to see an updated split from my friend, Jeff, clenching my fist and whispering, "come on man, almost there" to an empty office. Jeff's preparation for the Boston Marathon was like none I have personally ever seen before. Jeff dealt with the pain of 100 mile weeks, 6 minute miles, hundreds of them, dropping weight, the suffering of long runs, and the sacrifice of time spent away from his family. Jeff ran a 2:47 at 50 years old at the 2013 Boston marathon. No amount of hate and fear can take that accomplishment away from him. He is a runner.

Runners run towards a challenge, and I have a feeling that next year's Boston marathon will be the most competitive yet, the hardest to enter because of the demand to be able to run in that special place in solidarity with thousands of teammates, to take back the race. I had written off the race for me. I said I was done with road marathons, but after the attack at Boston, I want to go back. I'll need to be either faster or older, but now I'm determined to run this race, because running is not an individual sport and I want to be there in that group.

We are runners. We will not run away because of fear. Running is a triumph of the spirit over fear and pain, it's facing the doubt and pushing through it. It's the nerves at the starting line, the stomach that wants to jump through your throat, and the calm when the starting gun fires. It's the joy at the finish after facing the demons and the doubt and overcoming them, knowing that this inner battle is over and you are still standing. Today, we are all runners.

Run on.

Trail Therapy

2013-03-15T09:28:00.000-07:00

Speak to the earth, and it will teach you.
-- Job 12:8

Last week I read an excellent post on comfort running. Sarah wrote about her dad and dealing with his illness and loss. It brought back memories of my sister's recent double lung and heart transplant and finding peace on the trails of Palo Alto while Sharlie was undergoing her surgery and recovery in the ICU.

Tuesday was a hard day for me, and reading that came at just the right time. On Monday my wife reminded me that Tuesday was the 18th anniversary of the death of my youngest sister. I don't know why I always forget that anniversary. I guess I'm just bad with dates, so when she reminded me, it kind of shocked me.

I visited Lexi's grave on Tuesday. The grass and weeds were winning the war on the headstone. I stooped down, probably looking more like a landscaper than a grieving brother, wearing dirty running shoes, shorts, a smelly shirt and a hat. I dug with my bare hands to uncover the edges of the stone, and swept the dirt off the dates with my palms, July 28th, 1980 - March 5th, 1995.

I brought flowers, but the flower cup was stuck in the earth, so I dug around it, and pulled, hard with muddy fingers, and slowly alternated between moving it back and forth, swiping the spiders off my fingers, and pulling through the mud. It budged and finally gave. I cleaned the dirt and mud off my hands by rubbing them on the grass and on my shorts.

Eighteen years is a long time, but short, too. I keep thinking it's going to get easier, to feel better, that someday it will just be the faint, happy memories, but it hasn't been like that. Tuesday's sadness was fresh and raw. Some years on this date, I don't really feel anything, just a numbness, but Tuesday was unexpectedly sharp.

It's not the remembrance, but the absence that makes me sad. The shadow of a life, the missing place, that should be filled with warmth, finding love, having children, and laughing until she can't breathe at a family dinner. She would be 32, a woman, and I imagine her comforting her nieces after a tough day, or coming over unannounced just to hang out for the afternoon, maybe sharing some music (her tastes tended to be a little harder, I remember her listening to Metallica before she died, and I imagine we would have swapped tapes, then CDs).

Coming to terms with death is, I think, the hardest thing that we have to do in life. I think we do our best to ignore it, and that is why it comes as such a shock when someone close to us dies. Running helps, though, it helps loosen that tightness in my chest. I leave later this afternoon for a trip to Joshua Tree, and I can't get last year's trip and running with Ben out of my head, and I know that this tightness and hurt deep in my chest will be there until tomorrow, and then I'll run the trails, past the wildflowers and the giant Yucca plants in the interior of the park, a place where most don't go, and I already know I will feel lighter. The trail helps me with that. Writing this helps me with that.

I didn't cry at the cemetery that morning, but afterwards, running down the Broken Hill Trail at Torrey Pines, remembering my youngest sister, and thinking of the struggles of my other two sisters whose lives have been changed by Cystic Fibrosis, I ran hard, covered my eyes with sunglasses and pulled my hat low on that overcast, grey morning.

Thank you for reading.

Choose Your Own Adventure -- The Why and How of Adventure Running, Part 2

2013-03-11T16:47:00.002-07:00

I wrote Part 1 of this about a month ago with the promise of a Part 2. The first part came much easier to me. It's a common desire we all share, a desire to get outside, to explore, to unplug. That stuff is easy to write about, but "the how" is less fun, and less easy, but that Part 1 has been dangling out there for a few weeks, and it will bug me until I match it up to its more technical and more useful partner, the How of Adventure Running.

I want to start this by letting you know that I'm not an expert, by any means, especially in the multi-day fastpacking. I've had some great single day adventures in the Grand Canyon, Zion, Joshua Tree, on the PCT, and in the San Bernardino Mountains, but my multi-day experience is limited to researching (admittedly way too much time spent online reading accounts and too much money spent researching new products) and trying to gear up for an upcoming run on the John Muir Trail.

So, given my limited expertise, I still wanted to share what I know in the hope that it will help beginners move from organized trail running events to exploring some great trails on their own or with friends.

Assemble a Posse

Sir Mix-A-Lot and his posse, preparing for the Trans-Broadway Traverse

The first step in all of this is to find a group who can stand you long enough to spend days on the trail with you. In my case, it was easier said than done. It took some serious Facebook stalking, but once you find the right people, all it takes is floating some crazy idea out there, something like, hey we should go run 220 miles in the Sierras over 7 days this summer, and the right people will step forward, and by right people, I mean the wrong people, the people that share your same passion for the outdoors with a mix of craziness thrown in, the kind of people your parents warned you about. People like this guy, whose idea of some good training runs goes something like this:

If you're looking for running adventures, this is the type of person you need to connect with. It's a good idea to mix in some sane people as well. Pace is important, but I have run with much faster people who have slowed down for me, and slower people who I have slowed down for. These adventures aren't races, so pace isn't the top priority, but if you are trying to finish at a certain time (before sunset, for example), pace does become a consideration. I have found that a difference of 1-2 mins. per mile in either direction works for me. A good place to find these like-minded adventure seekers is through social media sites like Facebook and Twitter, and also in the real world at races, in trail running groups, or during organized trail maintenance sessions.

Routes

The next step is to find a good trail. Start local, use sites like trails.com or summitpost.org to find local backpacking routes. As a runner, you should be able to do a 2-day (maybe 15-20 miles) backpacking trip in one day. If you're just getting started, I recommend an out and back route. The logistics are simpler than a point to point run, there is less chance of getting lost, and once you reach the turnaround point, you will be aware of what lies ahead. If you're lucky enough to live near a national trail (like the PCT, AT or Continental Divide Trail in the U.S.), that would be a great place to start. The trails are well-marked and well-traveled. Another good place to look for trail routes is local trail races. The trail maps for these races are usually posted online. I also hear there are these computery things called "Apps" and there may be one or two that have trails marked on them.

National trail map. The trail possibilities really are endless.

Equipment

Equipment is an important consideration when you are planning to do your own adventure run. Part of the draw of long trail races is that you don't have to carry all the crap you are going to need to cover that distance. Luckily, there have been a lot of recent innovations with the lightweight fastpacking equipment, so you can go longer and carry less weight than you would have in the past.

Your required equipment list is going to change with practically any run you plan, and what works for some will not work for others. Most of this is learned during training (make sure you train with the equipment you plan to use on your adventure run), but I want to list what I consider the bare minimum equipment for an adventure run (with links to my favorites).

Mandatory Equipment

Hydration pack
Steripen or iodine pills to treat water
Headlamp
Nutrition

There are so many good hydration packs out there, and new, lighter ones are being released every year. I have used the Ultimate Direction Wasp pack for the Grand Canyon rim to rim to rim, Zion traverse, and many other long trail runs, and it has worked great for me. UltrAspire is also creating some great packs, and I'm currently using a Kinetic for 20+ mile training runs. The Steripen has saved my ass a few times when I have run out of water and had to fill a bladder in the stream. Iodine tablets are a good backup as well. I always try to carry a couple pills. Nutrition is something that needs to be dialed in during training, and for longer runs, I like more solid food. I'm going slower than I would in a race, and the solid food (I use baby food, beef jerky, rice balls along with VFuel gels and Kind bars) works for me on long trail runs. Again, nutrition is something that you need to figure out for yourself before you set off on your adventure.

The optional equipment is everything else. I usually carry a wind shell, because it is light enough that I almost have to take it. I also carry a cell phone that I use to take pictures, but could also be used to contact someone in an emergency. I recently bought some trekking poles for the John Muir Trail, but I haven't used them much. If there is snow or ice, you should also pack some Yaktrax. I also pack a small handkerchief to dry my tears, but that is a personal thing.

Comic courtesy toothpastefordinner.com

In Part 1 of this post, I linked to a video. I just re-watched it and while I hope going over the nuts and bolts of adventure running is useful to you, it really is all just about getting out there, on the trails, in the mountains and trying it out, experiencing it for yourself, taking some risks and re-drawing your own line.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy your adventure.

Beautiful

2013-02-12T17:57:00.000-08:00

Kate Upton does not need my defending. So, when I read an article that is making the rounds on Facebook about Kate Upton being fat, I didn't feel like I needed to defend her, but I do want to add my small voice to counter this nasty article and the idea of beauty that it espouses. I married an amazing, beautiful woman and I have two daughters who are well on their way to becoming strong, beautiful women (and the youngest is only 6, but she sasses me like the best of them). I want to speak to them.

I want them to know that the true ugliness in that article (which I refuse to link to, because traffic is what those bottom-feeders thrive on) is that there is some impossible ideal of beauty that every woman should judge herself against, but is forever unattainable. I am personally offended because Kate Upton is on my island. You don't know about the island? It's what we talk about after a few drinks in the cul-de-sac on a Friday night. Who is on whose island. Mine changes a lot, but recently, it's been Kate Upton, Erin Burnett, and S.E. Cupp. I don't know, I have this thing for confident, smart women. That's beautiful to me. And before you call me sexist, the other women on the block, including my wife, are full participants in the island exercise. My wife's constant island-mate is Ewan McGregor (she has a thing for pasty guys with bad teeth; that's a good thing, I guess). Bill Clinton even made the cut for one neighbor.

Everyone has a different idea of beauty. For me, when I see my daughter practicing ballet, and the grace of her movement makes my throat catch and my eyes water, and it's more than just fatherly pride, her beauty steals my breath. When I see my youngest daughter fight through a scrum in soccer, the smallest player out there, throwing a couple of elbows and emerging from the pack with the ball, and remembering her in the neonatal infant care unit, born two months premature, and struggling for life, and seeing how far she has come, that is beautiful.

When I helped a woman as she passed through our 45-mile aid station at last month's 50 miler, one of the last through, a mother and grandmother, running 50 miles and hitting our aid station with an exhausted smile, a smile that is there often, a smile you can see in the radiant wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, that is beautiful.

When I see the women in a race, ahead of me, climbing faster than me, I don't think about being "chicked," I cheer them on, they are strong, they are beautiful. And the women struggling, and pressing on, pushing their limits, they are beautiful. I am lucky enough to train with some very strong and fast women, they are beautiful. I cherish the times I have been able to be at the finish line to cheer on my wife at the end of a race, sweating, stinky, exhausted, and beautiful.

Tearing other people down is not beautiful. Smart is beautiful. Strong is beautiful. Climbing mountains is beautiful. Standing up to your boyfriend who treats you like shit is beautiful. Smelly feet are beautiful. Dirt under fingernails after climbing a rock or a mountain is beautiful. Leaving an abusive relationship is beautiful. Waking up at 5 AM to fit a run in before making the kids' lunches is beautiful. And no matter what your body looks like, or what you think it looks like when you look in the mirror, making an effort, no matter how small, to be stronger, to be healthier, to be a better example to your kids, or your mom, or your husband, that is beautiful.

Thanks for reading my rant.

So now you know who's on my island. Who's on yours?

How to Get Faster

2013-02-04T12:43:00.004-08:00

Nothing about this is fun.

My legs are screaming at me to stop, I can see the banner at the finish line, but nothing around it, there are people lining the streets, clapping mindlessly as they crane their necks looking past me, down the road for friends and loved ones, they may be cheering but I don't hear anything except for the hollow, low, muffled sounds adults make in the Charlie Brown cartoons. I'm seeing stars now, taking short, sharp breaths, and trying to keep the black tunnel vision from closing, trying to decipher the red numbers on the clock as I cross the finish, seeing the first two, 39, and I can't remember if I smiled then or not, probably not as I staggered to the curb, dodging the first aid guy with fear in his eyes and arms ready to catch me. I sat on a curb, staring at my shoes with two immediate goals, trying not to vomit and trying not to pass out. I remember smiling then, at that moment, a combination of joy, relief, and most importantly, knowing that I had reached my limit. It's a feeling that every runner should experience, at least once.

The number 40 was arbitrary, a number that I picked out about eight years ago when I started running, a long-term 10K goal to break 40 minutes, a goal that was out of reach, and a time that was a lot faster than I could run, but with proper training and dedication, was within the realm of possibility.

I don't enjoy racing 10Ks. 5Ks are fast, fun, and over quickly. Half marathons are hard, but you can ease up a little, letting endurance take over for the speed. Marathons and longer, for me, are more about conserving energy for the later stages, and getting the nutrition and fluids right than trying to run hard for as long as I can hold on. There is no taking the foot off the pedal in a 10K. In order to hit my goal of a sub-40 minute 10K, I would need to set a 5K PR in the first half of the race, and then keep going. There is nothing fun about that, but having trained hard, tried, and failed twice at breaking the 40 minute mark (running just under 41 minutes each time), I was determined to do it before I turned 40 in mid-February. It was a romantic idea, fight the slowing due to age, give 40 the middle finger, and prove to myself that I can still improve.

Fast is relative, that's why I didn't want to title this post "How to Get Fast." For a lot of the guys I run with, a sub-40 10K is a hard training run, and most could crank it out without much preparation. For some, a sub-40 10K is unreachable, but this is not about a certain time, it's about finding your limits, pushing harder than you thought you could, and running faster than you ever have. I'm not a coach and am not a certified anything. I kind of subscribe to the Roomba Training Philosophy (TM) of bump into enough walls and eventually the floor will get clean. But the following strategies helped me and I wanted to share them in the hopes that they will help you run faster, and find the outer edge of your own limits.

1. Pick a convenient race. For me it was the Cardiff Kook 10K. It was local, it started at 8:30, and it's a fun event with a lot of community support. The simpler the race, the fewer the variables, and less that can go wrong. It is a familiar route along the coast, and I knew each turn, twist and hill. I was able to sleep in my own bed, eat what I wanted, and get to the race start with enough time to warm up and use the port a potty about 20 times.

The race's namesake, The Cardiff Kook

2. Have a time goal that is out of reach (within reason). A good way to do this is to take a current race time, and use that pace to help set a goal for a longer race. For example, you may be able to run a 2 hour half marathon, but think that a 4 hour marathon is out of reach. It isn't. If you can hold that pace for 13 miles, you can train yourself to hold it for 26. Shut up, yes you can. And don't sandbag it, either. If you tell me you're trying for a sub 4 hour marathon and you come in at 3:10, I'll still congratulate you, but you're going to get one hell of an eye roll when you're not looking.

3. Share your goal. One of the things that kept me running when I was ready to take a walk break (thanks to ultras, now every hill is walkable), was thinking about the people that knew I was out there running, trying to run sub-40. I probably told too many people (I even posted it on the blog), and I started to get annoyed in the weeks before the race when people told me that I was going to break 40 easily. My response was "I'm just going to try to have fun." Bullshit. I was scared of not meeting my time goal and already preparing excuses for my failure, but when it came down to it, pride is a powerful motivator and I didn't want to show up to our regular morning run with excuses.

4. Get in a pack. It sucks running alone in a race. When my 10K started, I watched the elite field (all the fast locals were running...the winner came in at 30 minutes) fade into the distance, and I was caught between 3 or 4 runners in front of me and a big pack behind me. I pushed to join the pack in front of me and tucked in between two strong women (this is starting to sound like a dream I had once) that I recognized. I knew they were both capable of finishing sub-40, so I stuck with them. There is an extra push that you get when you run with other people, a "whole is greater than the sum of its parts" thing that can help you during a race. Pace groups for marathons, and half marathons are great for this.

5. Track. More than anything else, this is the one thing that I attribute to making me faster. My goal pace was 6:20. I bumped my goal to 39:30 after my friend and training partner, James, told me that I was probably psyching myself out with 40 minutes, and I should shoot for 39. I compromised at 39:30, and figured that this would be the small cushion I needed and I would finish just under 40 minutes. The one major change that I made in my training schedule was that I added a weekly track workout to my regular routine (4-5 maintenance runs, one longer run of 8-15 miles, and a rest day). I focused on drills and longer intervals at just under race pace. As Richard puts it, in order to run fast, you have to run fast. I became (somewhat) comfortable at running at a 6:20 pace. I remember a track workout about a month ago. It was Friday morning, and I was scheduled to run 4 X 2000 meters at race pace. I was alone in the dark, the temperature was hovering right around 30 degrees, and I was in pain. My legs were tight, my lungs hurt from the cold air, my motivation was low, and the workout was really, really tough. Looking back on that workout, I realize that was the day I accomplished the goal, it wasn't at the race. I ended up running 6:21/mile at the 10K for a 39:28 finish, almost exactly the pace that I trained on the track.

Early morning track work at CSUSM

6. Have a mantra. It is so easy to drift and lose focus in a race. This is great for ultras, let the time and miles slip by. But in shorter races, losing focus can be the difference in accomplishing what you set out to do, and failure. Repeating a mantra when my mind starts to drift helps me to focus on the moment, and to bring my attention back to my form. My ultra mantra (inspired by Phil Dunphy) of "slow is smooth, and smooth is fast" wasn't going to cut it for a 10K. I changed it to "strong is smooth, and smooth is fast" for the first 5 miles, then spontaneously changed it to "fuck 40" (I apologize to any of the kids on the sidewalk who were able to read lips) in the final mile. Anger can be a great motivator.

7. Drop some weight. I bounce around between 165-180, and I know I'm faster when I'm lighter, especially in the short races. Want some motivation to lose weight? Check out this online calculator and pay special attention to the weight adjusted race times. I realized I could gain valuable seconds just by dropping a few pounds. I went from 2-3 drinks a night to a glass of wine with dinner and dropped 5 pounds in 3 weeks without changing anything else. It wasn't a major, drastic, hard to maintain lifestyle change, but it did have the desired effect.

That's all I've got for the tips, the rest is just sweat. No, it's not fun, and I don't want to re-visit that place too many more times. Finding your limit hurts, it's stressful, it's risky, you could fail miserably, and I can't even really describe the payoff, except to say that it's worth doing, at least once. For now, I'm looking forward to getting back to long, slow, fun runs on the trails and some good, solid hill training to get ready for the Miwok 100K (in three months?!).

Thanks for reading.

A Normal Saturday Run

2013-01-28T13:48:00.001-08:00

It's the usual group, minus a couple of guys, one lost to a triathlon coach and another working a local golf tournament. We meet at the normal spot, on a corner near a playground, at 6:30, too early for most on this wet Saturday morning. It's a quiet walk to the meeting spot. No traffic or early morning dog walkers. I feel fresh, having slept in an extra half hour. I left the headlamp at home, wouldn't need it today as the sun tries unsuccessfully to burn through the thick layer of clouds and fog.

The rain always seems to start falling just as I step out the door. The thin wool shirt starts to absorb the mist that turns into a light rain, and the light shirt becomes heavier.

We start at an easy pace, all except for Chris who doesn't have an easy pace, short, fast, compact strides popping off the pavement as we chase him out of the sleeping suburban neighborhood into an area that quickly transitions off the grid, littered with old barns, rusted machinery, RVs surrounded by high fences and barking dogs.

We duck between two strands of barbed wire, pulled up enough to let an average sized runner through, a barb catches my shirt, creating a long, thin red scratch down my back.

I walk slowly, not running for fear of tripping and tangling my feet in the barb wire hidden in the long grass. The trampled grass becomes a narrow trail, wider and wider as we ascend to the power line trails, jeep trails. We call them jeep trails, but I'm not sure a jeep would make it through here today, I think as I slip through the heavy, red clay mud.

We leave the wide jeep trail in favor of a narrow single track. The banter comes to a halt, the dick jokes, the war stories, and the other things we say on the trail (and should probably be left there), comfortable enough after hundreds of shared trail miles to know where the line is, and to occasionally cross it, stops as the trail descends.

The trail is steep and muddy and I scan ahead, searching for the line that is not as wet, muddy, slippery, jumping from one side to the other and ducking under overgrown branches or holding my arms in front of me, protecting my eyes from the sharp barbs. We are spit out one by one, on the wide jeep road. The first few wait as the rest of the group appears, most smiling and breathing a little harder.

We cross the road to the preserve. I notice a sign on the bridge, the trails are closed, but the trails that we are headed to are always closed. But, early on a Saturday morning, in the rain, all the trails are open. We pass the bridge, closed do to the rising water level of the stream that can now safely be called a river and run alongside the river to a new crossing, a crossing where, on a regular day, can be crossed by jumping from rock to rock to the other bank and the trail that starts on the other side. The rocks are covered today by the swiftly moving water and we wade through, waist deep. Someone takes their shoes off in a fruitless effort to stay dry. I slip on a submerged rock and my shin hits hard, there will be a bruise. Once across, we run again, discussing the manhood scale and where crossing a waist-deep stream fits in (somewhere between mustaches and steak). In the past, some have turned back here, not wanting to get their shoes wet, but today, we all go through.

We are on closed land now, land that is overgrown, but a narrow trail still winds past foundations of old, deserted buildings that crumbled long ago, running over what used to be a road leading underneath a bridge that is no longer used and is marked with graffiti, one word...Shitface. I tell the others I was down here a few weeks ago, tagging the bridge with my street name, Shitface.

We run along the stream that is now a river, noticing the fog sticking stubbornly to the mountains. My shirt becomes too heavy and starts to rub in the wrong places, so I take it off and wrap it around my waist. Someone takes a group picture.

We emerge from the trail and closed off land and onto the guardhouse for The Bridges Golf Course, and surprisingly there is a guard there, so we cut back down towards the river. Already wet from the river and the rain, there is no discussion, we just wade into the knee-deep water, then waist-deep, then chest-deep for some and neck-deep for others. I slip on the rocks underneath, but there is no point now in keeping my feet on the bottom, I wade with my hands and arms towards the other bank and climb up on the slippery grass. I think I feel leeches, but they are only small leaves and I brush them off as I work my way through the thorny bushes that leave red marks on my legs, like the lines my 9th grade English teacher, Mrs. O'Donnell, used to crisscross over my bad grammar.

Back on a familiar route, steep concrete, so steep that I wonder aloud how they could have laid it without gravity pulling it down to the bottom of the hill, and we are back to the houses on the outskirts of the neighborhood, people who want to be left alone and who probably wouldn't like us running through their horse trails. We are way past the 10 or so miles that I had planned on, but I keep going, sucking down a gel. We head up and over the hill with the green water tower, and down the long, gradual decline on the other side. This is one of my favorite trails, just the right steepness for some fast running, opening the stride and feeling the pull of the bottom of the hill.

We wind through the neighborhood on the groomed trails, behind Albertsons, behind the school where I point out the new multilevel classroom being built over the grass field that now forces the kids into an ever-shrinking play area. They dance in place for P.E. now.

One last climb, then home to the kids, home to smiles and wet, stinky hugs, and eggs, and coffee, and sausage, and fresh orange juice. Time to take the kids out to soccer and the skate park. Time to start the day.

Choose Your Own Adventure -- The Why and How of Adventure Running, Part 1

2013-01-25T16:30:00.000-08:00

I recently was asked to give a presentation for Trasie Phan's "Beyond Ultra" series for her ultra running workshops, Ultra University. My presentation was about adventure running and it was called "Choose Your Own Adventure." I spent a lot of time creating a cool, animated presentation. I'm not a very polished public speaker and the thought of getting up in front of a group of people frightened me, but I thought if I had a pretty presentation, it would take some of the focus off of my public speaking skills (or lack thereof). Unfortunately, when I loaded the presentation onto the computer, a cable wasn't working, so I did the talk without the presentation. All things considered, I think it went well, and I wanted to share what I said here on the blog. It was kind of long, so I'm going to separate the post into two parts. Part one will be the why of adventure running, and part two will deal with the how of adventure running.

The "Choose Your Own Adventure" Slide-Show

I don't feel like an expert on this topic, but I have been lucky to connect with people who are good at planning these types of runs, whether it be a run across Zion, the Grand Canyon, or a creative linking of local trails. I see myself as that one guy in every prison break movie who doesn't come up with the prison break plan, but maybe floats the idea, or is the first one to volunteer. This person is also usually the first person to die.

To make sure you are in the right place, I want to start by having you think of a downhill section of your favorite trail, and I want you to imagine running down that trail, maybe a little too fast, outside of your comfortable, safe speed, running at a speed that if you fall, you may roll a couple of times, and their might be blood, and I want you to imagine that you are coming to the bottom of that trail and there is a stream just wide enough that if you jump it you might be able to clear it, but you also may come up short and get a little wet. What do you do at this moment? How do you feel? Did you jump? Was there a slight smile on your face as you took that leap, and did your heart rate go up a little bit? If you jumped the stream, even if you were a little scared, but still took that leap, then you are in the right place. If you skidded to a halt and looked down the stream for an easier way to cross, or if you imagined yourself turning around and walking back up the hill, you might be a triathlete.

That feeling of being scared and excited at the same time, of feeling alive, that is the feeling that connects runners, especially trail runners. That feeling of childlike exuberance, and of knowing that this is what you were meant to do, and that this is what human beings have done for thousands of years, that is the feeling that keeps us coming back and that really gets to the heart of why I like to run, especially in remote areas, and across beautiful trails.

So, the question is why not just race? We have such a wide variety of ultra races that we can take advantage of. These races come with awesome t-shirts, big buckles, cheering supporters, food and drink every couple of miles, and well-marked courses (for the most part).

I love racing, especially trail racing. I love the struggle, and overcoming the pain to finish. I love meeting people on the course and sharing miles of conversation with complete strangers. That's all good, and I don't plan on quitting trail races anytime soon, but when I look back and think of my most memorable moments on the trail, moments that literally take my breath away (or maybe it was just the altitude), moments where you feel that lump in your chest and you look around in amazement, those moments have come on a trail with a small group of friends on a route that we planned ourselves. These are the times when you know that no matter how many pictures you take, or stories you tell or blog posts that you write, there will be no way to convey that feeling unless you are there, sharing in that moment. Those are the moments that stick with me, and that I'm sure will stay with me for the rest of my life.

But why run these routes? I get this a lot, why not slow down and enjoy them, you go too fast to take in the views. Ben Horne, a friend of mine who passed away last year and who still continues to inspire, wrote something that really resonated with me. When he was running across the Appalachian Trail, he ran into a guy who said the same thing, why not slow down and enjoy it? Ben's response was

When holy people pray in the church, don’t they close their eyes? And then they can pray better, talk to God more clearly, without distractions? Staring wide-eyed at a stained glass window, taking a hundred photos, doesn't get me any closer to understanding why the building was created in the first place. Pushing hard and moving fast, too fast for this man’s liking, helps me see God like closing my eyes to pray.

I remember running through Joshua Tree with Ben and watching him count each different variety of wildflower that we passed, and exclaiming how big and beautiful the trees were here in the center of the national park, as opposed to those on the outskirts that have been stunted by pollution. Ben was a fast runner, and he didn't miss anything.

When I visited the Grand Canyon a few months ago, I overheard ranger saying that the average tourist spends 15 minutes at the canyon, taking in the view, getting the postcard picture, visiting the gift shop, then going on their way. As I sat at the South Rim, waiting for friends who were running across the Canyon and back, I watched these tourists, most were more enthralled with the squirrels than with the vista behind them. This isn't an exaggeration. I watched one guy take pictures of squirrels for about half an hour, I even snapped some pictures of him, but then I became the guy taking pictures of the guy taking pictures of squirrels, so what does that say about me? I don't want to be too judgmental but when you're standing on the edge of one of the most amazingly beautiful places in the world and you don't take the time or effort to even walk a few feet into the canyon, I think it's a waste of time (unless you are some kind of squirrel biologist or something).

Squirrel

A couple miles down the South Kaibab trail

I love to run, and running through these spaces, connecting something that I love to do with the beauty of the outdoors, it makes me happy. When I run across these trails on self-supported runs, I experience the outdoors in a way that makes me feel alive, and on a deeply evolutionary and psychological level, I am doing what I feel I was born to do.

A couple weeks ago, on my kids' third week of winter break, I could overhear them fighting in the house, yelling at each other over which TV show they should watch. I couldn't get any work done, so I loaded them, along with the dog, in the car, and we headed to a local trail, Elfin Forest Preserve, which is a couple miles from my house. The route starts with a steep climb for about a half a mile, and my kids were dragging their feet, but when we turned the corner and hit the downhill section of the hike, all my kids started running. It was some kind of complicit agreement that they had with each other. No one said anything, they just ran, and as I watched my son, his arms helicoptering wildly at his sides, I heard him scream, "I feel so alive."

That joy in running, that wild, happy feeling of being alive is what connects us. I've watched the video below probably twenty times in the last couple of weeks. I love the images, the words, and the message. When I watch this, it makes me think of lines, routes on a trail map, lines that connect us, start lines, finish lines, and the lines that limit us. A few years ago, I never thought I'd run longer than a 5K. That was my limit, but luckily my line was not not drawn with a permanent marker. My line is constantly moving, being adjusted, moved closer by fear, and pushed out by enthusiasm, or something as small as seeing a picture of a trail in the Sierras, or reading an article about a stranger's experience on the Wonderland trail.

My line is drawn in chalk, and I know that it's okay to erase it and move it around. I hope that you draw your limits in chalk and that by the time that we lace up our running shoes for the last time, our pieces of chalk will be slivers, and our erasers will be worn out from overuse, then we can sit quietly and talk about those breathless moments on the trail.

Thanks for reading. In part 2, I'll go into the how of adventure running, planning tools, recommended equipment, and some online resources.

A New Year

2013-01-03T14:49:00.001-08:00

I just got back from a beautiful run. An ideal run. I went out by myself, hit a singletrack, connected to the back side of Double Peak, climbed up to the telescope where I spent some time picking out the local peaks. I wasn't planning on writing a re-cap of the year...always look forward, never dwell in the past. But as I stood up there, picking out San Gorgonio and San Jacinto, and reminiscing on the time I spent running out there, thoughts leading to Ben, and my heart filled with thanks. I decided to revisit some of this year's posts, mainly so I can remember and appreciate these special moments, and to try to not perpetually focus on what's coming up next.

These were my most memorable running moments of 2012:

8,000 M Challenge (Baldy, San Gorgonio, and San Jacinto)

San Bernardino 9-Peak Traverse

Cuyamaca 100K

Running with Sharlie at the Lake Hodges 5K

Zoom Loco Annual Field Trip -- Grand Canyon

5th Annual New Year's Day "No Puking on the Trail" Run/Hike

With any luck, this year will end the same way it began, sharing the trails with good friends and family.

As I look back at the past year, I realize that my most memorable moments on the trail didn't have anything to do with competing in races, but they were spent on the trails with friends, on adventures that we concocted on training runs, and this gives me direction for the coming year(s).

I enjoy running, it makes me happy, and when I enjoy running, I run well. So, that is my goal going forward, to continue to enjoy running. For me, this means consistent running for a base level of fitness that will allow me to jump into things that sound like fun, without having to worry about if I will have the stamina to complete the challenge. What that does not mean, for me, is tracking every mile, setting time and pace goals, logging every beat of my heart, and spending time at the gym working on my core. While this may work (and is actually fun) for some, it definitely does not work for me. I've been going naked wrist for most of my runs and I find it so much more enjoyable. This outlook also allows me much more flexibility and time to spend with my family, which is more important to me than my running.

I also need to realize that everyone finds enjoyment in different ways, as a good friend recently told me as I was making fun of triathletes, most of them are just out there trying to enjoy themselves, and if that means buying titanium bolts for their carbon water bottle cages, then so be it. Others take months off of running to pursue other activities like rock climbing or male modeling. If that works for them and helps them enjoy the time they spend running more, then that's great (but I still reserve the right to curse them under my breath because they're still in better shape than me after months off).

So, this year, like years past, I'm not setting any huge goals, but I do have some fun adventures planned, and I hope to be able to jump into others if the opportunity presents itself. These are my main races and trips that I have planned:

Cardiff Kook 10K
Joshua Tree Traverse
Miwok 100K
Zoom Loco Annual Field Trip -- Zion
San Elijo Hills Double Marathon
Lake Tahoe 50K
Kalalau Trail
John Muir Trail
The Bear 100

I have also been asked by my good friend, Paul Jesse, to be part of the Off Road Pursuits Endurance Team. Paul puts on some great local races and I'm excited to be part of this group and to be able to jump into his races when I can.

Thanks for reading. I hope you all have a great year, and enjoy your journey.

My 10 Favorite Trail Running Videos of 2012

2012-12-26T11:59:00.000-08:00

These are the videos that have been emailed, passed around to friends, and shared on Facebook. At their worst, they have given me a short escape from the fluorescent day spent sitting behind a computer and have allowed my mind to drift to my next run. At their best, these videos evoke the excitement of being outside on the trails, the feelings of freedom, joy, pain, and ultimately connection to the land, and to everyone who shares this passion.

These are my ten favorite trail running videos of 2012, starting with the latest Salomon Running video and ending with a great message from Edward Abbey. I hope you enjoy the videos, and if I've missed any of your favorites, please list them in the comments below. I could use a short break.

The Beauty of the Irrational from The African Attachment.

ASICS "I am made of blazing trails"

Grand Canyon R2R2R (Rim to Rim to Rim) Run: South Kaibab to North Rim then back up Bright Angel

Hardrock 100 - Pacer's View

2012 Miwok 100K Trail Run

Ultimate Direction Athlete: Tim Waggoner

One more thing, if you haven't seen the Summits of My Life video, head here to buy it. Worth every penny.

Some Thoughts on Newtown

2012-12-17T11:28:00.000-08:00

I picked my kids up from school on Friday, because I just needed to be with them, to hug them and be grateful for them. I felt selfish Friday night as we watched A Christmas Carol, fire burning, Christmas tree lit, all snuggled together on the couch. My son's laugh was contagious. I smiled every time I heard it. It's genuine and innocent, the laugh of a kid that didn't have to worry about whatever was being reported on the news that night. My daughter, who is younger, snuggled up next to me in her fuzzy felt pajamas and purple robe that somehow makes her hugs even warmer. She is generous with her affection, doling out hugs and kisses and "I love yous" as if she has an infinite supply. The dog, curled up on my son’s lap, snored softly.

We didn't watch the news, and I didn't read the articles about the shooting, shielding myself from the heartbreaking details. I still don't know exactly what happened, and I have a hard time even saying the name of the school or the town. I have seen pictures and names of the children online, and I listened to President Obama read the children's names and with each one read, my heart broke a little more.

It was raining this morning when I dropped my daughter off at middle school. After she quickly glanced around to make sure no one was looking, she let me give her a kiss on the cheek, and when she opened the trunk and lifted her backpack that seems to get heavier with each passing day, she waved at me through the back window. She walked away as I sat in my car and watched her through my mirror, waiting there and looking even after she turned the corner. The older she gets, the harder it is to let her go. I can feel her pulling away as I try to hug her tight, and I am starting to feel the distance as I try to navigate the twists and turns of being a father to a young woman.

I haven't been able to feel better. I usually turn to running in times like these, in the way that others turn to prayer, as a path to comfort and to make the pain less, but I don't think we should feel comfort after what has happened. Maybe change, whether a change in gun laws, better relationships with our friends, with our neighbors, with our kids, or improved access to mental healthcare, will not come from a place of comfort. I didn't feel better after my run, and I didn't feel better after I prayed for comfort for the families of the victims, and I didn't feel better when I prayed for the safety of my children. I hope we don't forget the names and pictures of the children of Newtown. The change will come from those who can't move on, the change will come from the unhealed, because when something like this happens, maybe we aren't supposed to feel better.

The kids walking into the middle school this morning were wearing yellow and blue, the colors of Sandy Hook Elementary. My daughter wore bright blue pants and a bright yellow shirt (an old race shirt of my wife's...I think the brighter and yellower they are, the less the race directors have to pay for them). Watching her walk away on this sad, grey day, and seeing her brightness, her smile as she waved goodbye in our morning ritual, gave me just a little hope in what feels like a hopeless time.

Thanks for reading.

Support Your Local Running Store

2012-12-10T13:38:00.000-08:00

When you walk into the Movin' Shoes in Encinitas you'll notice the obligatory "Stop Pre" poster, the signed posters from Meb and Adam Goucher, the yellow and fading newspaper clippings of local high school track and cross country stars, and if you look up, you'll see old pairs of shoes hanging off the ceiling, used shoes, worn out, retired after winning races, or used up after miles and miles of hard work.

When I started running, someone told me to go to Movin' Shoes in Encinitas. I had been buying the cheapest, most over-built shoes I could find in the bargain bin of local big chain sporting goods store. I was nervous going to Movin' Shoes because it was a real running store, and I didn't feel like a real runner. A guy named Jim helped me. He was a runner. He knew his stuff, but didn't talk down to me. He had me try on different shoes and had me run outside in them. He put me in a pair of Adidas (I think), and running in those shoes changed the way I felt about running.

Movin' Shoes celebrates its 35th anniversary today. How can Movin' Shoes, and other small, specialty running shops stay relevant in the days of smartphone apps that let you scan barcodes and find the cheapest online price of the item that you are holding in your hands? They care about running. They hire experienced and knowledgeable runners to work in their stores. They know running, and are passionate enough about it to clip out newspaper articles of local high school races and tack them up on their walls.

Our sport needs stores like these. We need a place to store the memories, share the stories, and just to hang out and talk about running. We need a place to send our friends who are just starting to catch the running bug, knowing that they will be in good hands, and that they will be put in the right shoe for them, not the right shoe for the bottom line, or the shoe with the latest gimmick. We need stores that reach out to the running community by organizing free group runs on the weekdays.We need running stores where the employees actually care about running and give up their Saturday mornings to organize a charity 5K, or give up their weekend mornings by acting as tour guides to the local trails.

I'm guilty of scouring the Internet to save a few dollars on new shoes, of hitting up the daily deal sites and buying discounted gift cards for online running stores, but I'm going to make a change this year. While I'm sure that there will still be some online deals that will just be too good to pass up, I'm going to try harder to support the local running store, the store that put me in my first pair of real running shoes, and the store that I sent my mom to when she decided to run a half marathon, because our sport needs these stores to stick around.

Last weekend my daughter and I ran a 5K, hosted by Movin' Shoes, a fundraiser for a young woman with cancer, organized by Mick, a track coach at UCSD. They opened the store early, and I brought my daughter to the store. We were the first ones there and as I sat surrounded by the history of San Diego running, Carl, the owner told my daughter stories about the old shoes hanging from the ceiling, giving a short history of the races and the trails that they had tread, talking about them fondly, and you could almost see the trails and the track, hear the cheers and sharp breaths, and this passion for running is why Movin' Shoes has lasted 35 years and I hope will last another 35. We need these local running stores to survive because they treat our sport with reverence, knowing what every runner that has ever puked on the trail, or collapsed on the finish line knows, that this sport is so much more than just a hobby.

Thanks for reading.

Sharlie on Endurance and Overcoming Limitations

2012-12-05T10:57:00.000-08:00

I was recently asked if I knew of anyone who would be interested in speaking at The Hammer Festival, an endurance sports gala in San Diego. I immediately thought of my sister, Sharlie.

Her story is one of struggle, tenacity and of overcoming challenges. While we, as endurance athletes are able to choose our challenges, Sharlie, who was born with Cystic Fibrosis, had her struggle forced upon her. And, even though our struggles and obstacles are different, Sharlie and I, and everyone who participates in endurance sports, share that universal joy and sense of accomplishment as we cross our own finish lines after months of training and preparation.

Sharlie's attitude and the way that she handles every challenge has inspired me and keeps me motivated every day. She motivates me to overcome my own comparatively small challenges, to keep training, and to keep pushing my own perceived limits.

The speech she gave on Friday night really touched me, and I have included it below. I hope you enjoy it.

Me and Sharlie after the Lost Boys 50 Miler

Nine months ago I was surrounded by my family and my dearest friends, while I sat on a gurney waiting to be wheeled into the operating room at Stanford Hospital. I had been on a waiting list for five months and the call had finally come, I was going to get new lungs and a new heart.

I was born with Cystic Fibrosis, which is a terminal, genetic, lung disease that causes life threatening infections and permanent lung damage. Over the years my lung function had deteriorated to a dangerously low percentage. I needed a double lung and heart transplant to survive.

The first time I realized I was different than other kids, I was doing something that many of you love to do (or you don’t love it but you do it anyway!) I was running. My first grade class was at PE and we were running around the track. I was having a hard time keeping up with my friends, but was determined not to fall behind, so I pushed myself to go harder and run faster. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor in my classroom with my legs up on a chair and my worried mother looking over me. I had fainted on the track. My lungs could not keep up and my body couldn't get enough oxygen. That was when my mom explained to me that I had Cystic Fibrosis a little bit about what that meant. She told me to be careful and listen to my body so I wouldn't hurt myself. And, of course she said that this meant I was extra special!

I’m not sure if it is because of that specific experience, or just because I have been so physically limited throughout my life, that I've always yearned to be an athlete. Not necessarily a professional athlete but I just wanted to be able to use my body and feel a freedom I had never felt before. Don’t get me wrong, I was not a couch potato. I did what I could to strengthen my body. I found low impact exercises I could do and fell in love with yoga. I would turn up my oxygen all the way and walk on the treadmill but didn't know if I was doing more harm than good as my head pounded, my fingers turned blue, and I ferociously sucked in air. Leading up to my transplant, it was difficult to even talk, let alone exercise.

When my brother started running and started writing about his experiences on his blog, I was incredibly inspired. I devoured every blog post and would visualize myself running the trails with him as I read. I clearly remember giving him one last hug before the surgical nurses came to prep me for my transplant. I knew in reality I could be saying goodbye for the last time but I was filled with hope and truly believed I would experience a miracle. As I gave Dax a final squeeze, I whispered to him, “I love you, I’ll see you on the trails.”

A month ago that dream was fulfilled. Dax asked me to run the Lake Hodges 5K trail run with him. It was super hard. After months in the hospital, my muscles had completely atrophied and I am still getting used to being able to take a deep breath and use my body. I was unsure of myself but as I ran alongside my brother and my husband, two of my heroes, I thought about where I had come from and how the experiences I had dreamed of having and had visualized when the journey seemed hopeless were actually happening. I also thought about my donor, someone who had decided that if anything should ever happen to them, they wanted to give the gift of life to someone else. Such a selfless gift. It was an amazing race and I was so overcome with gratitude and joy. I can tell you, it’s harder to run when you’re crying! They were happy tears. Even though I was one of the last to finish, Paul Jesse, the race organizer surprised me at the award ceremony with such kind, encouraging words and a very generous gift card to get some new running gear and a subscription to Trail Runner. It felt like I won first place!

Sharlie finishing the Lake Hodges 5K

I am so grateful to be here tonight. I am so inspired by this community of endurance athletes. Living with Cystic Fibrosis has given me a unique perspective. I do not take life or even one breath for granted. I have faced death many times and know how blessed I am to be here. I think athletes share this unique perspective. You push and thrive and dream and conquer, you are grateful and most importantly, you give back. When I was first accepted for Transplant, the first thing they told me to do was start fundraising. They said my medical costs could reach up to a million dollars. Dax set up a fundraising page for me and reached out to this community and we were incredibly humbled by the generous support we received from so many of you. I have come to learn that that is just who you are and what you do. I am so grateful the funds raised tonight will go to the CF Foundation and will be used to find a cure for this relentless disease.

As a beginner athlete, I’m most likely never going to be at the elite level that you all are. However, living with 15% lung function and surviving and recovering from a double lung, heart transplant has taught me a little bit about endurance and now instead of spending hours a day on my bed doing breathing treatments, respiratory therapy and running I.V.s, I am trying to follow in your footsteps. I know you also know about endurance, I know you have all experienced the feeling of thinking you cannot take one more step or pedal one more time or swim one more stroke but you dug deep and you did. That is what endurance is and I have learned it is the most painful and sweetest experience at the same time. Thank you for inspiring me. I am learning how good it feels to drip sweat, and how delicious sore muscles feel. I promise to continue to push myself and honor these new organs of mine. I also promise to follow your lead and give back. I have a lot to pay forward! On behalf of the CF community I thank you for your generosity tonight. It means the world to us. We have a saying that we hope one day CF will stand for CURE FOUND!! Thank you for helping us get closer to realizing that dream! God Bless.

To become an organ donor, please visit www.organdonor.gov.
To learn more about Cystic Fibrosis and become involved, please visit www.cff.org.

Crest Canyon and the Joys of Urban Trail Running

2012-12-03T14:02:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you just have to make do with what you have, and when you're making do with what you have, you realize that you have a hell of a lot. That's how I was feeling for most of the day yesterday as I revisited one of my first and favorite urban trail runs.

While I envy people who live in trail-running meccas like Boulder, Bend, or Park City, and I occasionally catch myself drooling over pictures of miles of uncrowded singletrack trails that can be found within walking distance of the front door of the inhabitants of these cities, I do, however, immensely enjoy the challenge of stringing together trails in an urban environment. It's fun to solve the puzzle of how to join sections of trails together in a logical way to make a loop with the least amount of pavement. It involves getting to know an area really well, getting lost on the trails, and lots of time tinkering and testing the magnification settings on Google Maps, trying to determine if that squiggly line is indeed a runnable trail, or a dead-end path leading to the den of a local pack of coyotes.

When I was training for my first marathon a few years ago, I lived next door to Paul Thomas, who was an amazing runner and world-class duathlete, and I would pick his brain about running every chance I could get. He encouraged me to get out on trails and introduced me to some of the trails around our neighborhood, trails that I run nearly every day. One day I asked Paul what his favorite local trail was, and he told me that any time one of his old running friends came out to visit, he would take them to Crest Canyon. I asked for more details. Paul gave me a starting point and a cryptic description of a loop that crossed some streets, went along some train tracks and a cliff, but mostly he encouraged me to just get out there and explore.

I started going out to Crest Canyon in Del Mar for my weekend long runs. I got lost a few times, found some beautiful trails, mixed in some connectors on the road and incorporated one of my favorite spots in the world, Torrey Pines State Park. It was so much more enjoyable than running up and down the long, straight (but also beautiful) Coast Highway. My current Crest Canyon loop is about 12 miles and I included some details below, but if you want to do the run, just get out there and explore, string some of your own trails together, or get lost and find new routes. It's part of the challenge and most of the fun.

I park at Roberto's on Carmel Valley Rd. because burritos are good. I head toward the coast, then turn right onto Del Mar Scenic Rd. The first trailhead is at the end of the hill. This trail will lead you to Del Mar Heights Rd. Cross Del Mar Heights and connect to the Crest Canyon trail. This will lead you to San Dieguito Dr. where you turn left, cross Jimmy Durante Blvd, and run west along the Del mar Riverpath until you hit the Coast Highway. Turn left and head towards 15th St. park. Run through the playground and take the trail that follows the railroad tracks on the cliff. From here, I run up the inside grade of Torrey Pines, do the short, but beautiful Guy Fleming trail loop, then down the beach trail to the beach, north on the beach, then under the bridge, through the Torrey Pines parking lot, and then let the sweet smell of breakfast burritos lead you back to Roberto's.

15th Street Park

Along the tracks in Del Mar

This is a great trail, but (wait for it...) it gets congested.

Ended the day at the Torrey Pines Gliderport with some friends in bright yellow shirts

Thanks for reading.

Changing Pace and a Good Hill Workout

2012-11-27T16:25:00.001-08:00

I'm familiar with the cycle. A period of good, long training, successful races, goals met, then a plateau, sometimes a long one, months, and then the rut. It's nice to be able to recognize it and know that the world isn't ending, and that I'm not backsliding into a sedentary life. Change is good.

My change doesn't involve picking up a new sport; I still have no desire to get back on the bike or in the pool. The change this time is the type of training. I'm focusing on some shorter races, some 5Ks and 10Ks. I'd really like to run a sub-40 10K before I turn 40 in February. I've come close to that before, hit 40 minutes and change a couple of times, but have never broken the 40 minute barrier. So, I'm switching up my training.

I'm not running less, but I am replacing a couple of the weekly longer runs with more quality runs, mixing in some track work, some tempo runs, and some hill repeats. The mileage still hovers between 40 and 50 miles per week, but the workouts give me more variety, and for now, they are a lot more fun than the long runs. I'm trying to avoid the trap of only increasing distance at the expense of speed. I have found myself not wanting to train for and run shorter races because it almost felt like taking a step backwards from the ever-increasing volume and race distances of ultras.

Early morning track work at Cal State

I've been heading down to the Cal State San Marcos track for some interval training, and that has been fun. It's been awhile since I've run fast and done form drills. Steve Scott (the greatest American miler) is the women's cross country coach down there and I have never felt as self-conscious about my form as I was last week when Steve and his team were stretching and doing core work on the side of the track while I was doing intervals. I also talked to an older woman who holds the American record for the 5K and half marathon in her age group. She was so nice, and we talked for awhile about her races and running. She told me she was 76 and I asked her what her secret was for running so fast that late in life (I can't remember if that's how I put it; I hope I used a little more tact). She told me that she started running 5 years ago. So, there you go. That's the secret.

I'll share today's hill workout because it was simple, and it was fun making it up, and it kicked my ass.

Easy jog for 2 miles.
Find a long (about 1 1/2 mile), moderately steep hill.
Run hard for 3 minutes up the hill.
Turn around and recover for 2 minutes downhill (I walked for a minute, then jogged a minute).
Repeat steps 3 and 4 until you reach the top of the hill (for me, this was 5 intervals).
Cool down.

That's it. Let me know if you try the workout and what you think about it.

Thanks for reading.

Grand Canyon Run

2012-11-05T10:24:00.000-08:00

Ultra runners and potential aficionados,

Sante and I will go back again to the Grand Canyon this year. 42 miles, 11k feet gain. And one of the most beautiful trails on earth.

The plan is Saturday Nov 3. Drive out from SoCal Friday afternoon Nov 2; drive back Sunday Nov 4. You're invited.

I's be open to go to Zion and do the classic Zion traverse (48 miles). But since Sante really wants to get back on r2r2r, Grand Canyon's the plan currently. And I am not complaining, it's the best run I've ever done; this will be my 3rd go. Maybe we can save Zion for next spring.

Hope some of you can join. Spread the word as needed.

Ben

May 22nd, 2012

It hurts to know that I will never get another one of these emails from Ben, but am forever grateful that I was included in this one. My hope is that this will be the beginning of an annual tradition, a Zoom Loco Field Trip that will bring together friends who want to experience amazing places around the world and to push beyond what they think is possible, held in memory of Ben, honoring his spirit of adventure, his ability to bring together a diverse group of people, and his love of being a participant in nature, rather than a mere tourist.

Lake Hodges Trail 5K -- Race Report

2012-10-31T12:11:00.001-07:00

Sharlie, running the Lake Hodges 5K

This is a picture I have been wanting to take for a long time. It's of my sister, Sharlie, running on a trail at the Lake Hodges Trail 5K. Eight months ago Sharlie was on an operating table receiving new lungs and a new heart.

This isn't going to be one of my normal race reports, I didn't suffer, I wasn't concerned about my time or my place, and I wasn't nervous at the start; I was simply grateful.

For the first time ever, I was able to run alongside my sister, who after a lifetime of not being able to run without stopping to catch a breath, is now able to run a 5K. Sharlie was born with Cystic Fibrosis, and we have watched as her lung function has deteriorated over the years, severely limiting any physical activity. Before her double lung and heart transplant, she was forced to be on supplemental oxygen and would have trouble taking walks, or climbing stairs, having to stop to catch her breath every few steps.

Before Sharlie went into her transplant surgery, she looked at me and said, "I'll see you on the trails." At that point, we were all just hoping that Sharlie would make it through the surgery without complications and that her frail body would accept the donor's organs. Our family had been through this before. I lost my youngest sister after her body rejected her donor's lungs in a similar surgery, so my greatest wish was that Sharlie would just make it through and that these new lungs would extend her life. I wasn't allowing myself to even dream that we would soon be running on the trails together.

Sharlie's surgery and recovery went amazingly well. In the months since her surgery, she has been to Paris, rode in a 36 mile charity bike race, and when I asked her if she wanted to run the Lake Hodges Trail 5k with me, she didn't hesitate. I gladly switched my entry from the 50K to the 5K, my wife signed up for the 15K, and my daughter signed up for the 1 mile kids' run.

I got to the race early to see off some friends who were running the 50K. Paul Jesse, the race director, did a great job organizing four different race distances and courses. The day was beautiful and the atmosphere surrounding this race was amazing. The Lake Hodges 50K was my first ultra race back in 2007, and I have spent some good miles on the trails around the lake.

As the 5K started, Sharlie, Ryan, and I started at the back of the pack. We jogged over the single track trail, crossed a small bridge, passed the Chelsea King memorial, hiked up some steep switchbacks and jogged downhill toward the turnaround point. We were near the back, and it really gave me an appreciation for how hard people work at these races, no matter how short the distance, or how slow the pace, everyone shares the pain and the triumph in overcoming.

Everyone, from the elite racers to the people who drop out because they can't take the suffering anymore, hurts at these races. We are lucky, we pick our struggle. We set goals, and endure the pain of training and racing. And we overcome, because the feeling of conquering doubt and pain is such a great feeling that even those people who bleed and cry as they cover miles on the trail, cursing this stupid activity, questioning why they choose to do this, even those people smile and keep coming back because that feeling at the finish is addictive.

For some, their struggle is not a choice, but is thrust upon them, leaving no choice but to fight and survive, or to give in. I can't really describe how it felt to see Sharlie running, probably asking herself why she was out there, maybe feeling like she could have trained more, but overcoming so much to be there in the first place. Watching Sharlie fight to cover 3 miles on a trail seemed trivial and amazing at the same time because it was a battle of her choosing.

As we neared the finish line, I could hear my wife and kids, and my nephew, Sharlie's son, cheering. We turned the corner and as they recognized us, they all came running toward us, and Sharlie raised her hands and ran with the kids to the finish line of this particular challenge. This is the image that I'll remember, Sharlie running to the finish, beautiful, and inspiring as her family cheers her on.

The whole day defined what I love about trail running, and racing. I was able to spend time with my family, watch my wife throw down a solid 15K, and my daughter run the mile fun run. I was able to watch and cheer on some friends who turned in some amazing 50K performances. It was great seeing everyone enjoying the trails together. Thanks to Paul and Off Road Pursuits for putting on such a great, well organized event (anyone that can corral 100 kids for a mile fun run and make sure that none of them get lost deserves major race director props).

Richard, taking 2nd

Cameron, congratulating James (who is from the future) on his first ultra

Sharlie and her husband, Ryan

Sharlie and Sophie running to the finish

I think Sharlie has the bug now. We were just talking yesterday about how she wants to get faster and run longer, and I have no doubt she will do both. It's kind of fun to choose your own struggle.

Thanks for reading.

Vi Endurance Gel Giveaway Winner

2012-10-29T10:52:00.000-07:00

I want to thank everyone who took the time to leave a comment for the Vi Endurance gel giveaway. There were 43 comments, and the random winner was comment #16, Ralph Havens. I'm glad these are going to Ralph because I've been lost in the Cuyamaca mountains with Ralph and these gels might help him survive any future navigational issues. Congratulations, Ralph.

I also want to thank Vi Endurance for letting me run this contest and for providing a sweet discount for the readers (enter the code "dirtyrunning" at ViEndurance.com for 25% off your first two orders). I'm a big fan of these gels (in case you didn't read the review), and everyone that I have shared them with has really liked them.

VFuel Endurance Gel Review and Giveaway

2012-10-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

Instead of the big build-up, I'm going to give you the payoff at the beginning. VFuel is offering readers of this blog 25% off of your first two orders of VFuel Endurance gels (go to VFuel.com and use the code "dirtyrunning"). Also, you have a chance to win nearly $100 worth of VFuel (that's a 24-pack box of each flavor...chocolate, peach cobbler, and vanilla) by leaving a comment on this blog post. Great, now you can read about how awesome VFuel is.

I first heard of VFuel Endurance gels from Tim Long's blog. He is a great writer and I enjoy reading his race reports. I remember him writing about VFuel and how he would take one every 20-30 minutes with no stomach issues; I was intrigued. I have a history with gels. At times I have loved them, and when I say "them," I'm talking about one particular brand...I'm not going to name names, but come on, you know who you are. But recently, I have had stomach issues when I try to use gels. I'll spare you the technicolor details, but stomach issues, for me, does not simply mean a slightly upset stomach. Recently, I switched to real food for longer training days, but carrying rice cakes around a race course is not very convenient, and unless you are hiking, they are hard to get down.

When Michael Hodges, the co-founder of VFuel emailed me and asked if I would review his product, it was like all the planets were aligning. I was stressed about nutrition for the 100K, I had just read about VFuel on Tim's blog and heard about the gels from Nick Pedatella, and I would most likely have placed an order for VFuel without any prompting on Michael's part, but that's just how the world works sometimes, so lucky me (and lucky you because you get a fat discount and a chance to win $100 worth of VFuel). I was honest with Michael, and I told him about my troubles with gels, and that I was trying to switch to solid food, but I also realized that in the later stages of a long race, it's harder to digest real foods. I told him I was planning on doing the Cuyamaca 100K and I would love to try the VFuel Endurance gels for the race (and on some longer training runs before the race to see if they would work for me). Michael came through with several boxes of gels, enough that I was able to share some with some of my running friends (spoiler alert: they really liked it).

I tried the VFuel gels on a couple of training runs, and I loved the taste (especially the peach cobbler flavor...I'm not sure where they get their supply of unicorn tears, and how they can keep the price so low), and they seemed to work, but the real test would come during the Cuyamaca 100K. I started the race with a handful of gels and a couple rice cakes. I tried to load up on calories early in the race, but really had to slow down to eat the rice cakes. It's really hard for me to get solid food down when I'm running, so I slowed to a hike. I didn't have a problem with slowing down, because I was planning to take the day real easy, but it would have been a problem if I was pushing for a certain time. I took a gel about every 30 minutes during the race, and after about the halfway point, I switched exclusively to gels (except for the luxury of warm chicken noodle soup that I allowed myself at the last two aid stations). The gels worked great for my race. I didn't have the stomach issues that I experienced at the San Diego 100 that forced me out of the race. I felt like I had sustained energy for the entire day, and I felt like I could have kept going. Really, the only thing that tasted better than the VFuel was the carne asada waiting at the finish line (hint, hint...carne asada flavored gels).

The VFuel gels taste great, but there is also some science stuff going on that makes them effective, and while I'm not a scientist (although, occasionally, I do like to add Mentos to Diet Coke), this info may be why the VFuel works.

They use dextrose instead of fructose, so the gels are easier to digest.
The flavoring is natural and organic. In the chocolate flavor, they only use organic, non alkalized, real cocoa powder and a hint of pure, real vanilla. In vanilla, just pure and real vanilla is used. In the fruit flavors, they use organic natural flavors to get them as close to the real thing as possible.
The VFuel is designed with recovery in mind...every single ingredient has benefits towards recovery.
The amount of caffeine in the gel is enough to act as a digestive aid, not as a stimulant.
The same goes for the electrolytes. The magnesium and potassium contained in the gel are there for ammonia scavenging (recovery) benefits and not as an electrolyte supplement. They feel the electrolyte needs vary greatly between people and weather conditions to be able to get an accurate amount of electrolytes in any one formula for a given outing.
The MCT oil is a new concept in gels. It is coconut oil that has had all of the 'bad' stuff removed and what is left is a very pure, clean fatty oil. They are the only gel to offer any sort of fat, a crucial component 70 miles into a 100 mile run, or 13.1 miles into the marathon during an Iron Man. This oil is treated and metabolized more as a carb rather than a fat. It goes straight to the liver and used immediately as a quick energy source. This is another reason why VFuel is so easily digested.

And I thought they worked just because they tasted good.

I had some questions for the co-founder of VFuel, and he was nice enough to respond. I really just expected one or two sentence answers, but man this guy is thorough. There is a lot of good information here, but if you've read enough and want to try VFuel, skip to the bottom and enter to win $100 worth of VFuel (that's a box of each flavor...chocolate, peach cobbler, and vanilla).

Why would someone choose VFuel over another option like Gu or Clif?

Know that we are very proud of what we have created here at VFuel. We wouldn't have come out with another gel if it wasn't quite different from what is out there currently. As a company created by active endurance athletes who have used any and every gel, bar, drink, etc... out there, we have personal experience with the drawbacks of each and hear the complaints that most people have with gels. "They make me bloated." "They 'back me up.'" "They make me nauseated." And it goes on and on in the same fashion. We began making our own gel as we experienced many of the same issues with everything else out there. As we began the creation of VFuel, the main goal was to create a gel that was easily digestible. We wanted a gel that wouldn't make you nauseous. In addition, ever single ingredient is in the gel for a very specific purpose, including aiding in digestion. The biggest change in this regard is that we do not use fructose, we use dextrose. Dextrose goes directly to muscle glycogen not relying on the liver to break it down, as fructose does. It doesn't take much fructose to back your system up, which causes all of the issues that most people associate with gels. We even had a beta tester with Crohn's disease that was able to use VFuel with zero stomach issues, and it now able to train for endurance events again. Prior to VFuel, she simply couldn't fuel for longer runs and certainly couldn't handle any gel, due to the high amounts of fructose.

We also feel that our blend of maltodextrin and dextrose provided extremely consistent energy levels. Most of the feedback we get includes statements that runners are experiencing very consistent energy levels and are not getting the spikes in energy that they get from other gels. Running 100 miles is a roller coaster of emotion as it is. There is no need to expect a roller coaster of energy from your fueling and nutrition plan. This takes an element of the unknown out of ultra distance running and lets one focus on the task at hand instead of managing their 'gut issues.'

Another major aspect that makes VFuel different is our VFuel Endurance Formula. Every ingredient in this formula is there to do one of four things: aid in digestion, reduce muscle fatigue, promote recovery, and/or provide consistent energy. We are also the only gel to have a clean, true fat in the formula. It is in the form of a fractionated coconut oil, and is seen as a carb to your body, so gets used very quickly and cleanly. This offers an additional metabolic pathway that can be used for energy creation. There is really only one other gel out there that even comes close to providing these performance and recovery benefits, but they charge $2.50 per packet, and we have set our price at $1.35 per packet. We want people to be able to use this day in, day out, for training AND on race day.

Overall, we truly believe that VFuel tastes great, uses quality and well purposed ingredients, and helps improve performance and recovery. We want to stand out from the rest, and there is no gel out there that can offer it all.

I've been sick a few times while consuming gels as my sole source of nutrition, and other times I've been fine. Can you explain some of the variables that can cause stomach distress?

There are definitely a few factors that come into play here. The biggest factor is the use of fructose in most gels. Ones metabolic pathway is very limited when fructose is involved. It's a short chained carb so your body wants to use it quickly, which it does. However, it takes some work to turn it into energy. It first has to be broken down in the liver after which it moves on to your muscles in the form of glycogen. This takes some time and requires certain enzymes, which your body has a limited number of at any given time, to break down. If you keep piling more fructose on top of itself, things back up and this process slows down or stops. This causes you to get bloated, nauseated, and show other symptoms of gastric distress.

The times that you have been fine while using other gels tells me a couple of things. One is that you may have a high 'constitution.' In other words, you may be able to handle more fructose than others. This issue doesn't effect everyone every time. I have some friends who can fuel a 100 mile run on ding dongs and gummy bears. If i did that, I may make it 10 miles before you'd find me in the fetal position on the side of the trail. Everyone is different. What VFuel does is remove this issue from the equation.

After hours on the trail and after consuming gel after gel, it is hard for me to choke down anything sweet, do you have any advice or alternatives to a sweet gel?

This is definitely an common issue that we hear with gels. And let me be clear, we are not saying that we think everyone should use gels, or VFuel, as their sole source of fuel for anything. This can work for some people, but we understand that we are all different, have different tastes, and different preferences. We just think that if you use gel, you will get the most benefit out of using VFuel, and the more you use, the more you will reap the benefits of the recovery and energy aspects. There are many great options that can be used, in an alternating fashion, in conjunction with gel to change it up and give you some variety. Clean sources of protein can taste great when you've had enough sweet. One of our founders, Alan Smith, used two sources of fuel as he completed the Rocky Mountain Slam this year. He would alternate between beef (frozen the day before and put in drop bags) and VFuel. This worked very well and the beef was a nice way to change it up. He fueled the Bighorn 100, Hardrock, Leadville, and the Bear 100 using only beef and VFuel. And we have no affiliation with Scott Jurek, but if you haven't read his book Eat & Run, I'd recommend it. He has some great vegan options for those of you who won't do the beef. I have used rice and miso balls that have worked pretty well, a variation of some of Scott's suggestions in his book. Salty and, for me, sat well in my stomach. But the key is to experiment and find what works for you. It definitely takes some time to figure out what's going to taste good, sit well, and give you usable energy when you're 65 miles into a 100.

Along those same lines, what do you recommend as far as fueling goes for a 50 mile race? What about a 100 mile race? If there is a difference, why the difference?

There is definitely a difference in fueling for these two very different distances. For a 50, you can get away with a bit more. If you get a bit 'off' on your nutrition plan you can usually push through it and the deficit wont effect you in the middle of the night, when you're at mile 75 of a 100 mile event. In the 100 though, pushing through fueling issues/deficits, without taking the time and effort to address them and fix them, will certainly come back to bite you. I take more of a training approach to my fueling for a 50. I don't find it necessary to stack any fueling early on and, depending on feel, wont be quite as strict on the timing of my calorie (and VFuel) intake. Though I will, and recommend, stick to one gel about every 30 minutes for a 50 mile run. If not for the immediate energy needs, then for the recovery benefits. I'll feel much better the next day.

For a 100 mile run, I recommend eating early and often. I'll still base my VFuel intake to one gel every 30 minutes, but will often take a little more, especially on a climb. On climbs, such as Hope Pass, I'll switch to one gel every 20 minutes. You can't bank time in a 100, but you can, in a way, bank your calories as long as you don't grossly overdo it. And I, personally, will eat more solid food during a 100, though this isn't the case for everyone. I can easily do a 50 mile run on gel alone, but the 2nd half of a 100 is a bit different and I crave solid food. So I alternate. Sometimes chicken or beef, sometimes fruit and veggies. It just depends on how i'm feeling.

This difference in fueling strategy between the two is simply a factor of the difference in distance. 100 miles is drastically different than 50 in every way and your fueling plan needs to adapt accordingly. The more VFuel you can handle early on in a 100, the more you will delay the onset muscle fatigue that is inherent in these types of events, and the better fueled your muscles will be for longer.

What is the shortest distance or time you would suggest going without VFuel?

We highly recommend consuming 1 packet about 15 minutes before your run (training or race). Then one every 30 to 45 minutes depending on terrain and effort level. For example, I'll use one packet every 20 minutes when running a steep climb, and even go as long as an hour between gels if I'm out on a casual hike with family or friends. And we recommend one packet within 10 minutes of the completion of a run (training or race) simply to benefit more from the recovery aspects of our formula.

The peach cobbler was my favorite, and I'd like to know if you are infringing on any trade secrets from Peach Jolly Rancher? Are you planning on introducing any other flavors? Any hints?

Haha! No, I certain we're not infringing on any trade secrets! That was an experiment gone horribly right! We were playing with flavors and I found a peach flavor that is 100% naturally extracted from peaches. The process is amazing and we're so glad we found this flavor! I threw a bit of this flavor in, added a dash of cinnamon then went for a run! I couldn't wait for every 30 minutes to pass until I could eat another packet! You're right, the stuff is great!

As far as other flavors, we definitely have some in the works. I don't want to give anything away, but think citrus, think ginger, and even think savory! And, as always, we are very welcoming of suggestions! If any of your readers have any thoughts on flavors, no matter how crazy or wild they may be we encourage their suggestions! We're kind of perfectionists in this way and open to anything, so if they suggest it, we will probably give it a shot to see how it tastes!

That's my review. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you give VFuel a try because it's good stuff and they are a great company run by endurance athletes who know their stuff and care about what goes in your body on long runs.

Now for the giveaway. Just leave a comment below (note: you don't need have a Google account to comment, just click the "Comment As" dropdown menu below and click "Name/URL" or "Anonymous" to comment without an account). You will be entered to win nearly $100 worth of VFuel gels (that's a 24-pack box of each flavor...chocolate, peach cobbler, and vanilla). You don't need to write anything specific for the comment, just "yo," or "hi," or a sublime running haiku...whatever you want. I'm going to pick a random winner in the coming weeks. If you would like, you can also go like the VFuel Facebook page (and read reports and reviews from much faster runners who use VFuel).

To order VFuel and take advantage of 25% off of your first two orders, go to VFuel.com and enter the code "dirtyrunning."

Thanks for reading, and good luck.

Disclaimer: I received VFuel Endurance gels to try out for this review (even though I was going to buy them anyway), but you already knew that.

5 Tips on Balancing Family and Obsessive Running

2012-10-11T12:53:00.002-07:00

I don't know if I should be the one writing this article. I should probably hand the duties off to my wife and kids, because they are the ones who allow me to do what I do. Everyone always says that family comes first, but really, it doesn't always come first, and I think that's okay and healthy. The goal is to strike a balance. For some people running is an escape, the time on the trail and family time are kept separate and, like George's worlds colliding, are worlds that are best kept apart. For me, there's not much of a clear cut distinction between family and running, and for better or worse, I try to balance and combine the two as much as possible.

Me and the kids on a short hike

This came up during the Cuyamaca 100K. Paul and I were talking about how lucky we both were to be married to people who understood. Both of our wives have an athletic background and are still very active. So, when I tell my wife that I might take next Saturday and run in the mountains, oh and by the way, I'll probably be useless on Sunday as well because I'll be too tired from Saturday to do anything except maybe watch some football, she understands. Or, when I mention that next year, I'm thinking about taking at least 7 days to run through the Sierras, from Yosemite Valley to Mount Whitney, she doesn't laugh and tell me to stop posing in front of the mirror, she knowingly smiles, and makes sure I'm not doing it alone.

While I will give most of the credit for being able to run so much to my awesome, understanding and patient wife and kids, I have to admit that the successful balancing of obsessive running and a happy home life has taken years of subtle ~~manipulation~~ training. I'm still learning and experimenting with the process of balancing my family life with my running life, but in the process I have discovered a few strategies that help, so here are my 5 tips for being an obsessive runner while still maintaining a healthy family life.

1. Act like a total dick.

For me, this really isn't much of an act. If I don't get some kind of physical activity during the day, at least once, I am not a very pleasant person to be around, and by the second or third day, my wife and kids are practically forcing me to miss soccer games, date nights, long walks on the beach, anything to get me to run. When my daughter holds my running shoes out and gives me the Puss in Boots eyes, I know that I need to get out and run. You can easily work this one into conversations, like when I tell my wife "oh, I'm sorry that I just mistakenly told you that you are acting like your mom...I really need to get a run in." Believe me, she'll be begging you to leave.

Don't go overboard on this one. There is a limit to being a dick (just ask the guy who stole a dog's wheelchair). Also, the only way for this one to truly work, is you have to be pretty damn awesome most of the time, especially after a run or a race. You better come home with a huge smile on your face and ready to dole out hugs and kisses, empty the dishwasher, cook dinner, and be the super wife/dad/parent that you know you are. You know what that means? Ice cream for everyone.

2. Bribe your kids.

Speaking of ice cream for everyone, the kids add another layer of complication to the mix. There will be missed swim meets, missed soccer games, missed episodes of "Good Luck Charlie," but luckily kids are very susceptible to bribery. They're like miniature politicians. My kids are young enough to still love the shiny medals that I bring home and give them after a race, or they really luck out when Jelly Belly sponsors a race and I bring home Sports Beans. I have enough race shirts at this point to clothe a size large, polyester-loving army, so I'll ask for a small shirt or give the large shirt to my kids to sleep in. On the other hand, samples of blister shields, sun screen, and electrolyte pills don't go very far.

I will also have my family meet me after a run, and then we will do something fun. Fortunately, one of the regular runs I do starts and ends at a delicious coffee shop right on the coast, so I'll have my family meet me for a Saturday morning breakfast and then we'll spend the rest of the day at the beach.

Post-run (I'm sitting on a beach chair while my daughter teaches my son to surf).

3. Sacrifice.

Yes, there will be sacrifices. You're not going to make it to every swim meet, parent-teacher conference, or football game. It's important to prioritize, and ask yourself some tough questions before lacing up those running shoes, or allocating an entire weekend to a race. Is the parent teacher conference for the smart kid who always does what the teacher asks, or for the kid who misbehaves and likes to blow shit up in the name of science? Does your 6-year-old daughter have a chance of scoring a goal and winning the soccer game, or is she playing against the stacked team from Cuba where the six-year-olds drive themselves to the game and celebrate with beer afterward? These are the tough questions you have to ask yourself, but birthdays are non-negotiable. You've got to make the birthdays (unless it's the middle child, in which case, you can just buy him a really nice present).

Some things you just can't miss.

4. Trick your family into thinking the vacation is about them and not about running a race.

This one is old, and everyone sees through it, but if you do it right, it never fails. I like to lead with the race. I tell my wife that I'm thinking of doing this race on Catalina Island, or getting a cabin up in Big Bear and doing a long run for my 40th birthday. I wait for her face to drop or her eyes to roll, then I say I was thinking about bringing her and "making a vacation out of it." That's the key, you have to slip in the word vacation, as if getting to Catalina the night before a marathon, eating an event-prepared bland plate of spaghetti, bunking with a bunch of people who need to be asleep by 8 PM and who are up at 4 AM, and being absolutely too tired and sore to do anything after the race except watch re-runs of "Keeping Up With the Kardashians" could be considered a vacation.

Hey, let's all go to Zion. I'll just spend a day running across it.

Half of my Hawaii vacation photos are of empty roads.

5. Guilt.

This is the last resort, and must be used sparingly. I grew up in a religious household where guilt played a role in every decision I made before the age of 16. It works, but it can really mess you up. I still worry that if I drink a can of Coke, God is going to zap me with never-ending hiccups or permanent insomnia, and I can already hear my Grandma saying, "see, that's what happens when you drink caffeinated beverages."

My wife is applying to nursing school, and she is currently volunteering at a local hospital, so when I'm planning out my adventures, I try to use this wholly selfless and benevolent choice against her. I always check with her before signing up for a race, saying something like "I really want to train for another 100 next year, and I know that you're going to be starting nursing school next fall and I won't have a lot of time to run once you're in school, so I was hoping to cram in a few races, and maybe some overnight running/camping trips into my schedule before you get started." Note: I hope those races that I signed up for next year offer refunds.

If everything goes as planned, your family will support you by setting up aid stations at grass-roots races...

and make you awesome welcome home signs.

Now, I realize I'm giving up my secrets and that they probably won't work as well going forward (let's be honest...my wife has seen through me since day one), but I'm willing to take one for the team. So, for the sake of runners with families everywhere, I hope you use these tips, act like a dick, bribe your kids, and guilt your way into a happy and balanced family life. You're welcome.

Thanks for reading. I'm off to pick the kids up from school, because I told my wife she should go work out. She was acting like a total...

Cuyamaca 100K -- Race Report

2012-10-08T12:54:00.003-07:00

I signed up for the Cuyamaca 100K with revenge in my heart. I signed up for the race a week after dropping out of the SD 100 with stomach issues, and I felt like I needed to get back out on some of the same trails and prove, mostly to myself, that I could finish the race.

In the weeks leading up to the race, I felt a rising sense of panic. I have been feeling burnt out for the last couple of months, and my motivation was really low. I knew that I wasn't putting in the necessary training in order to perform well and I started to self-sabotage by eating too much. In the weeks and months leading up to a race, I try to clean up my diet, but in the last couple months, I went the other way, snacking on junk throughout the day, and drinking too much at night. Luckily, I had committed to doing the San Bernardino 9 Peak Traverse, and the Ragnar Ultra; a couple of long runs that I hoped would have me trained enough to complete the 100K. Yep, that was basically my training plan.

I went into the race giving myself an out; I had no time, pace, or placing goals. I knew if I pushed too hard I would be setting myself up for failure. My goal was to simply take it easy while spending a nice day in the hills of Cuyamaca, sampling the best trails that San Diego has to offer.

Some Race Details

Co-race-directors Scott Crellin and Scott Mills did an outstanding job of organizing the race. The course was so much fun, stringing together about 62 miles of beautiful, mostly single-track trails through Cuyamaca State Park. I think I have run over 90% of the course in training and other races, but there is such a vast network of trails out there that even though the trails were somewhat familiar, the layout made them seem new.

First loop (thanks to Nena Crellin for the photo)

The course consists of three separate loops that all start and end at the same place, but don’t overlap, and I really liked the way they broke the loops up. The first loop was 31.5 miles with 5,500 feet of gain, including a trip to the top of Cuyamaca Peak. This was the longest loop and it was a psychological boost to get it done early in the day.

Loop 1

The second loop was 12.6 miles with 2,800 feet of gain. Although this was the shortest loop, there was a lot of climbing and it was a tough part of the race for me. I had one of those moments where I started to get negative, doing the math in my head and thinking about how far I still had to go, so I put in some music and the time started to go a little faster. I listened to a great podcast from the guys at Ultrarunner Podcast interviewing Sarah Lavender Smith about the Grand to Grand Ultra. Listening to her experiences in this tough stage race got me thinking about next year’s planned traverse of the John Muir Trail. Sometimes it's best not to live in the moment, and to just let the mind wander, especially when the moment sucks.

Loop 2

The third loop was 18.3 miles with 2,600 feet of gain. My friend, Paul, came out to run this one with me and it was great seeing him. My stomach, which had felt pretty good all day, started to give me trouble on this loop, and I slowed to a walk for the first section of the loop. I ate some chicken soup and drank some ginger ale at the first aid station. That helped calm everything down, and I was able to mix in some more running. It's amazing how delicious chicken soup can taste after 50 miles. I'm positive that if someone opened up a restaurant and made the patrons run 50 miles before they could eat anything, people would say it was the best food ever created in the history of food.

Loop 3

We were treated to a beautiful sunset, the kind you only get in the mountains, and I was so happy to be out there. It was a beautiful section of trail, and the view made all the pain of the day worth it. As I approached the last aid station I saw a woman walking towards us and as I got closer I realized it was my wife, who I wasn't expecting to see until the finish. I was so happy to see her smile, and a close second, to see the guy at the aid station who was waiting with another cup of warm chicken soup. The last stretch of the race went by pretty fast for me (although I'm sure Paul would disagree), as it was mostly flat and downhill and I ran as much of it as I could.

Photo: Nena Crellin

Photo: Paul Jesse

I finished in 13:23 and in 24th place, which I was happy with.

The Mushy Part

Part of why I love long races is that for most of the day, you are out there alone, the distance is so long that people get spread out and hours can go by without seeing another person. It is during these long solo stretches that I always come back to the connections in my life, friends who are on the trail, maybe sitting and recovering in the finishing area, or covering some of the same trails I have already crossed, or helping out in aid stations. These fellow runners have become great friends.

I also thought of my sister, Sharlie, who a little more than six months out from a double lung and heart transplant, was taking part in a 32 mile bike race as I was out on the trails. I talked to her the night before both of our races, we wished each other good luck, and she was talking about her doubts and I was concerned about her. I didn't know if she could finish; I told her she could do it, and I was just impressed that she was attempting the race. I found out later that she had finished, and I am just so proud of her. At this point if she said she was going to finish Ironman, I wouldn't doubt her and I would only hope that she wouldn't drop me in training. I thought of my nephew, Ben, who also lives with Cystic Fibrosis, and just completed a difficult hospital stay, and how hard it must be at such a young age to come to a realization of the struggles that lay before him, and I know that his strength will serve him well, and he will continue to inspire people along the way.

I really want to thank the race directors and volunteers. We are so lucky to have such a strong network of trail runners in San Diego who put on amazing races, and you can tell when they come up to you at the finish line for a handshake and a hug that they are doing this because they love the trails, and want to share them with others. I want to thank Paul who gave up his Saturday night to come run 18 miles very, very slowly. I also want to thank Vi Endurance for setting me up with some great gels (I'll be doing a giveaway later this week), and USANA for keeping me healthy and injury free with a great line of supplements (especially the Omega-3, glucosamine, and digestive enzyme products). I also want to thank my race mustache and Naked Wrist Racing.

Photo: Paul Jesse

It felt great to finish this race, but not in the way revenge or redemption feels. I don't feel like I proved anything to myself or anyone else. I am grateful that I felt good and strong throughout the day, and that my nutrition worked, but all of these races are different. Different days will yield different results and I am learning to accept the day that I am given.

Sacrament

2012-09-28T13:51:00.002-07:00

Happiness is not necessarily how many things we have--happiness is the ability to share what we have with others.

--Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, Running with the Mind of Meditation

We stood there at the top of the climb, the sun painting pinks and oranges on the wisps of clouds to the East and a dense layer of fog covering the houses to the West with the tops of hills poking through as islands covered by this thick, soft blanket.

The decision was whether to push on for a few more miles, or to head home and start the day. I had told my daughter that I would print her paper for class, so my vote was to return, and there were a few others that needed to be home to get ready for work, or take kids to school.

This trail goes by a couple different names, the Paul trail, or the Cindy trail, named after the runners who have been lost here, and the name depends on whoever is absent on that particular day. The land is owned by a church that at various times has been described to me as a yoga retreat, a meditation retreat, a cult, a vacant insane asylum with guards or ghosts who haunt the trails at night. I hope it belongs to the peaceful, hippie variety of cults as opposed to the crazy, git yer gun and drink your kool-aid kind of cult.

As we stood at the top of the hill, catching our breath and deciding whether or not to return back through the trails, past the rusty barbed wire fence, a couple No Trespassing signs, across a pit of mud and through two streams, back to the families, and the sanitized neighborhoods where you get a home owners association letter if you have a basketball hoop on the sidewalk, or dead spots on your lawn, I took a deep breath in, looked around and was grateful.

There is a cross at the top of the hill, a large one, maybe 15 feet tall, probably not placed there by the ghosts of the vacant insane asylum, and I realized as the sun was coming up, bouncing the colors off the hills and the clouds, that this is my church.

It sounds dramatic for such a simple exercise that really requires no skill, but running has saved me. Running is where I find peace, strength and courage. Running is the place where I share this with friends, whether it be a group of ten of us and three dogs as it was this morning, or just a couple, and if you added up the miles that we have all run together, it would be in the thousands by now, maybe tens of thousands.

One of my friends is Israeli and on one of our runs, he told me that there is a slang saying in Israel, that you never break palavra, you don't ruin the mood when a bunch of people, usually guys, are hanging out and talking shit, you don't start getting all serious. So, while we stood there at the top of the hill, catching our breath under the giant cross and the sunrise, I wanted to thank this group, to acknowledge this moment, but I didn't say anything, just took a deep breath, and started back down the single track, feet landing in the soft dirt of the trails, jumping the streams, breathing hard, mouth open, and mind clear, another morning shared with friends, outside, free, and joyful.

Skateboarding

2012-09-21T10:19:00.002-07:00

I sit with the moms and dads at the skate park as we watch our sons and daughters, pushing them, the way parents do now, hiring coaches and paying starving pros to teach our kids the latest trick. I don't want to sound like an old guy, but it's different now; we used to skate in parks, or on streets, tearing the shit out of curbs and benches as anyone over 30 shook their heads, and gave us dirty looks or worse. We have brought the soccer-mom and football-dad "must do better, must win" mentality to the skate park as my 7 year old son turns toward me for approval and I give him the thumbs up sign.

Things have changed, but it's still a beautiful thing watching these kids work on a trick, bleeding, twisting ankles, breaking wrists, smacking heads on concrete, working for that one moment when everything works, when the practice pays off, the pain, the hours, the concentration as the board flies slowly through the air, twisting, unconnected to torn shoes and worn soles, sliding down the steel rail, screeching metal on metal, then a slap of the wooden tail, and board, rider, and wheels float, punching gravity in the stomach, arms out, hair flying, and then, everything comes together, knees absorb the impact, the board bends, and the rider, teetering on the edge of balance, lands and with a half-smile that hides the joy exploding in his head, slowly glides away.

I just watched a movie trailer, and I can't remember the name of the movie, but it was about a kid who wants to surf Mavericks, one of the most dangerous waves in the world, and the kid's friend says this is about more than just surfing, it's about finding that one thing in life that sets you free. I feel a connection to these kids as I watch them fall again and again before finally landing that one trick that has taken hours, days, and weeks of practice. It's a feeling that transcends sports and drives us to do better, to work hard for something, to not give up on it, and to feel that flow when everything comes together, that feeling that sets us free. And as I sit here, a skateboard dad, watching my son fall as Fugazi screams in the background, I can only hope that he finds that feeling, too.