Old Friend

Umstead 100-Miler, my favorite ultra, is Saturday in Raleigh, N.C.

Well, it starts Saturday. I will still be out there Sunday until at least 4 a.m., and probably longer.

I have finished the 100-mile distance there seven times and made it to 50 miles two or three other times. All have been memorable. I have been out there during hurricane winds complete with rain blowing sideways (really neat for the 10 minutes; totally sucks once the temp drops 37 degrees!). Remember the Hail-Bop Comet? Yep, chased that puppy all night long in 1996, I think. One of the most amazing skies I have seen. I have had the same hallucination in separate years (MAN how did they build that condo out there along that power line???). I have fallen asleep running there and awakened before falling down. I have managed to finish fast enough to beat daylight a couple times, one of the coolest feats in ultrarunning.

Most of all, I have forged some dear, dear friendships in those North Carolina woods. Ben Clark, Brian Clark, Lee Cox, Will Brown, Tom Green, Missy Heeb, Shelly and Andy Wunsch, my buddy Bob Ring, Dennis Hamrick, Aaron Goldman, Leo Lightner. That's just the short list of people I have had the honor of playing in the dirt with there. Umstead is all those folks, and so much more. It's race director Blake Norwood and his wife Myra. It's top-notch aid stations with the kindest volunteers and the best food.

All packed and ready. Heading out tomorrow morning. Psyched beyond psyched.

Umstead is an old friend. Umstead is home.

Pacer Boy strikes again

Shamrock was completely and utterly awesome!

I helped a couple dozen marathoners hit 4:00 or slightly faster as an official member of the Shamrock Pacer Group. What fun!

Up to 10 miles, we were anywhere from 20 seconds to 40 seconds slower than 9:09/mile pace -- the average mile pace needed for a 4:00 marathon. I rolled us up to 11 seconds slow at 13.1 miles, the halfway mark, then backed off as the more vocal members of the tribe quieted.

Forty seconds slow at Mile 17, I gathered the forces and announced that it was time to mount the ponies and close the gap, and that we were going to do this gently in hopes of not having anybody run a particular mile too fast and blow a gasket or two. Whittling away, we passed Mile 19 20 seconds slow, Mile 21 10 seconds slow and hit Mile 23 precisely when my countdown timer hit 0:00! How cool is THAT?!

I finished in 3:59:47, then it was Rock Star Status with much hand-shaking and several photo ops in between two of the coldest Yuengling I have ever quaffed (nothing like a beer company sponsoring your marathon!). Weird though, having the stew line three times longer than the beer line.

Totally enjoyable day on the run.

Shamrock No. 22 just around the bend

Wow. Hard to believe that Sunday will be my 22nd Shamrock Marathon. Is that possible? 22? First one in 1984, that first spring out of college? Check. Nailed a Boston Marathon qualifier with a 3:06:45, my personal-best marathon, in 1991 at Shamrock? Check. 1984? 1991? Really? Oh so true.

This is my second straight year as a member of the Pacer Team, this time helping guide the 4-hour-flat group.

Know what's cool? I like it now more than ever.

Big Group This Morning

Man, everybody was there on my two-hours-starting-at-0400 run this morning.

Regis Shivers, who taught by example that you can compete and still be kind. Ben Clark, who has dragged me through countless trail miles that have helped me define the real me. Jeff, Neil and Pete, who I spent my first five or six years of ultrarunning chasing, running from, laughing and becoming brothers with. Dennis Herr, Gary Knipling, Chris Scott. Horton. Milton Webb, Dennis Hamrick, Mickey Jones. Aaron Goldman, who at 67 shared the final 25 miles of what turned out to be the first 100-mile finish for each of us back there in what seems like a lifetime ago. My current crew of Sophie, Potts, Michelle and Quatro, who show me over and over and over again that the best medicine is a big smile, a quick laugh, a good 'tude and a day playing in the dirt with people you love.

Anyone driving through this morning's pea-soup fog on that two-lane country road saw just one runner with a kick-butt flashlight and a funny-looking rain hat. They were all there, though.

(Regis Shivers Sr., about the toughest ultrarunner ever and a true man's man, died earlier this week after an excruiatingly long fight with cancer. RIP, dawg. RIP.)

... and in with the new

OK, so the Streak of Aug. 1, 2006 finally ran its course, thanks to the massive after-effects of that shiver-fest Monday long run of a last week. I took last Friday as a sick day, lying around sniffling and feeling sorry for myself, then decided not to run again until Monday.

So, I spent much of Saturday and Sunday contemplating a training program that includes specific gym days, specific days off each week from running, lots of specificity regarding long runs, speedwork, really long runs. It was a really great plan. Well, it would be. For somebody serious about competition. Like me. Ten years ago me.

The Today Me? I'm good as is. Which means Monday, Feb. 12, 2007 is the new streak kick-off day.

Hopeless and yet so hopeful at the same time. :-)

Wowzer!

This morning was simply gorgeous.

Did 2:15 of 7/3 along snow-covered streets in Harrisonburg. My legs feel fantastic now, a couple hours post-run. It was a fascinating combo of peacefulness at times and also the attention-demanding roar of snow plows. Few cars were out. The main roads were fairly slick, so I stayed on residential streets for the most part.

There's nothing quite like the sensation of hearing the squeaking of your running shoes but not really feeling the impact of three times your body weight hitting the road one step at a time. I hope I can always appreciate moments of clarity such as that. Pretty cool stuff.

Will I? Won't I?

Maybe an inch of fresh snow covering things up out there right now on a quiet Tuesday night. Forecast calls for maybe three.

Will I outduel the Cover Monster in time to cruise for a 2-hour jaunt in the chilly a.m.? Or will I settle for extended rest (after letting Sherman out and feeding him, of course) and just do 20 minutes like this morning?

Am I still feeling the effects of Monday's 2 hours that ended in a 15-minute post-run shiver fest, the result of doing the final 20 minutes smack into the teeth of a 15 mph wind coupled with a 12F air temp. Not, shall we say, one of my finest moments. Physical impact was gone by this morning. The mental impact is still there, however. It was work more than play. It bordered on obligation, some weird sense of "I HAVE to do this or else." Not looking to repeat that any time soon.

A Sweet January

Long run totals for January:

• 15 runs
• 34.5 points
• One loop of the Rivanna Ring Trail with my peeps, with most of the others in the 2:00 to 2:20 range.
• A whole bunch of gorgeous, gorgeous sunrises seen

Great start!

A gentle 2-hour run/walk this morning. Then 2 x 8 single-leg bodyweight squats, then 3 x 8 single-leg bodyweight calf raises standing on a bench (and touching a locker for balance help), then a set of 10 pull-ups, then a set of 10 chin-ups. Oh yeah, showered and stuff in there too.

NOW time for some breakfast. :-)

What an awesome, awesome way to catapult myself into the day.

Some Big Ones for 2007?

One sure thing, and then tenatively three other whoppers on the running horizon for me in 2007.

Umstead 100-Miler is March 31-April 1 in Raleigh. One of my faves, this will hopefully be my eighth finish at this early spring classic.

Then there's a 24-hour race on a soft sand trail at Hampton, Va., April 21 that I hear calling my name. And I am hearing talk of a possible 24-hour track run at nearby Montevideo Middle School sometime in June. If that comes to fruition, well, I HAVE to be on that starting line. Then there's the Hinson Lake 24-Hour race in Rockingham, North Carolina, about a 5.5-hour drive away, in early August.

Ahh, the possibilities. :-)

Streak Update: Still Rollin'

With this morning's 25-minute run/walk -- in a sleeveless T and w/o gloves! -- I now have 167 consecutive days of running without taking a rest day. Yep, that's each day starting with Aug. 1, 2006.

Most of them have been either 20 minutes or 2 hours. Some of them have been bitter cold, such as the 19F start of the Mountain Masochist Trail Run 50-Miler Nov. 3. One day last week was the same. At least that's what some of the women who run from Valley Wellness Center in Harrisonburg said as they were ripping me for having just shorts on my legs. Shorts are good. Less laundry. ;-)

Had a big scare last Saturday when I took a nasty fall running with pals on the Rivanna Ring Trail at Charlottesville. Landed on my back and apparently cracked a couple ribs. Very, very lucky I didn't break a wrist. Or tailbone. Or hip. Or my thick head. Still just a bit sore, but only a bit. Another few days until I can start strength training again, but I'm OK with that ... as long as I can run, that is.

Tomorrow I am hoping for a 3-hour run/walk. I am off work, Heidi is not and Ben is at Gram's, so I have no legit excuse not to take full advantage and crank out a big one. That will mark in end of Week 24 of this streak.

Next significant date: Feb. 14. That will be Day 200, if I keep it going.

... and counting

Three thousand eighty-nine days.

That's how many days ago it was that I ran into my best bud.

It's been the Rinn and Bill Show basically since July 15, 1998. We've done some really great work, we've fought some interesting battles, we've eaten a lot of great lunches, we've played with a bunch of cool animals, we've sipped our share of cold beverages and we've even caught a few fish along the way. Rinn is a part of my immediate family, moreso than any of my other friends.

We have laughed a lot, shed a few tears, shared our dreams, shown each other what trust and team and love are really and truly all about. Her faith in God has strengthened mine in ways I never even knew were possible for me.

Rinn is kindness. And smarts. And patient with me when I don't get it, and challenging to me when I think I get it but really don't. Rinn is my creative sounding board.

Most of all, Rinn is amazing, amazing grace.

So, today is it for Rinn at JMU. She's moving on to a really cool opportunity to do graphic design with a really cool, relatively new and exploding company here in Harrisonburg. My guess is she'll do as many amazing things there as she did here.

I always figured that this day would be the saddest of the sad for me, but you know what's completely cool? It's not. Not even one bit.

These last few weeks since this new road has opened up, Rinn has had her Awesome Rinn Smile back. Seeing that again, after too long, has done my heart immeasurable good.

In one way my buddy is moving on, and then again, in a much deeper, more profound way, she is staying here with me. In this latter way, she is always with me.

Three thousand eighty-nine days ... and counting.

Left Coast-bound perhaps?

Depends on how the Western States Endurance Run 100-Miler lottery turns out this Saturday.

Mike Whalen, a new ultrarunner who I shared some wonderful time with during the night-time portion of this past summer's Old Dominion Memorial 100-Miler, is offering to pick up the tab for my heading out to California to pace him -- that is, run the last 33 or so miles with him -- in late June 2007. Western is the granddaddy of 100-mile trail racing, and is so popular that there is a lottery for the 470 or so slots.

I've never been interested in doing Western as a race. A little too glitzy for my tastes. But Mike thinks he needs my help, so that seems like a pretty good reason to head west and maybe sample a taste of the big time.

The Hippy-Out Way

From the "Totally Pointless But Could Be Just The Rut-Buster You’re Looking For If You're An Ultrarunner" file, I submit this … The Hippy-Out Way.

If going fast and finishing first is your thing, find the Delete Key now.

Here’s how it works: You score points for the total amount of time spent on all runs 2 hours or longer. Points are tallied for the month. I still do a bunch of the shorter ones too, mostly in the 20- to 30-minute range, but I don’t score those. I don’t do speed work or push too hard in races any more, so I don’t care about giving either of those more value than a normal long run.

Notes: I do run/walks on all my runs, including anything on roads and including those less than 2 hours. For long runs, I might do 7 minutes run/3 minutes walk. Or 12/3, 8/2, 5/1, 4/1. Other than for races, life precludes my breaking free most weekends, so nearly all these are weekday morning deals. Helps that I only live 15 minutes’ drive from work, and, after 16
years doing ultras, training on roads gets me ready for training on pretty much anything I will be doing races on. Also helps that I’m cool with getting up at 4-4:30 a.m. to start running 4:30-5 a.m. before work. Yeah, it’s weird. Yeah, fits my personality.

So, here’s November. So far I have 8 long runs for a total of 25 hours, so 25 points. Included is a 10:25 at Mountain Masochist Trail Run 50-Miler. The next week I did 2:15 Wednesday, then 2 hours each on Thursday and Saturday. The week
after was the more typical 2 hours apiece in the more typical Tuesday, Thursday and Friday rotation. This morning, I did 2:15. I expect to get 4 more 2-hour runs in for the month, so that will be 33 points for 12 runs.

This is more of a tracking system than a training system. Training implies a plan. I have no plan. I have a wife, a 6-year-old son, a 40-hour-a-week job, a part-time job as a basketball ref, and an overriding need to run. I just run slow, walk fast and have fun.

Here are some numbers since I started this nonsense in 2003.

2003 312 points; 100 “long” runs; 7 ultras (1 100), 1 marathon and one
78-mile DNF.

2004 362 points; 122 “long” runs; 6 ultras (2 100s), 1 marathon.

2005 452 points; 143 “long” runs; 6 ultras (2 100s and the 71-mile
Massanutten Ring Trail), 2 marathons.

For 2006, I am poised at 399.25 with 131 runs, so tomorrow (or Wednesday, if I sleep in Tuesday) will crack the 400-point mark for a second straight year with slightly more than a month left to go. This year’s highlights include 2 marathons, 6 organized ultras (2 100s) and two other really stupid fun deals, the 77-mile Greenbrier River Trail in West Virginia all in one
push and a 3-day stage run of the 105-mile Skyline Drive here in Virginia. Probably will not get to 452 points for 2005, but probably will get to 145-plus long runs.

Bottom line: I am not very tough. I don’t really like to suffer all that much. The Hippy-Out Way allows me to do a buncha running and puts me in a great spot to finish a buncha ultras each year. More importantly, I am not beaten to crap all the time like I was during all of my first decade of running ultras. Most importantly, I am having fun.

Hippy-Out comes from my friend Craig, a former national-class duathlete who said this to me back in 2003: “Now that I’m not looking to turn pro, I gotta find a happy medium for my training. I can’t run 70 miles a week and bike
300 a week any more, but, dude, I don’t want to hippy-out like you, either.”

Call it the 3KBC Challenge

That would be 3,000 push-ups between now and Christmas Day.

That's 100 every other day until Santa comes, with a few extra days thrown in for good measure.

Oh, one other little twist: I can only do 10 in each set. That's to ensure quality control.

Stay tuned ...

Bobcats Forever

Me, Bill Richardson and Greg Wriston, standing in Wriston's front yard in beautiful Lost Creek, W.V., the afternoon of the recent Thursday WVU-Maryland football clash.

Trip summary: The Wings Olé wings are still as amazing as they were 25 years ago (has it REALLY been 25 years ago?!), even without beer to wash them down. Mountaineer Field is still among the loudest in the land, especially when the 'Eers jump out to a 28-zip first-quarter lead. The two-plus hours it takes to vacate Morgantown after a game seem a LOT longer when that happens as the clock strikes 2 a.m. Trips down Memory Lane are all the more sweet when spent with true friends.

I often wonder how different my life would have been had frat brothers Bill and Greg not already graduated by the time I became a West Virginia Wesleyan Bobcat … especially Richardson. We have enough stories as it is.

Day 56

Got in a light 25-minute run/walk this morning. Run four minutes, beep goes the countdown timer, walk one minute, beeeeeeep, repeat. Pleasant orange glow and a little gentle sweat to help kick-start the otherwise pretty ordinary day.

Today was Day 56 in a row of running for me, dating back to Aug. 1. Hadn't really set out to put together such a streak, which includes having covered the 105 miles of the Skyline Drive in three straight days.

Physical assessment: Legs feel good. Energy is up. Minimal morning stiffness. None of the telltale signs that say, "Hey, Knucklehead, take a rest day!" So maybe I ride this one out a bit longer and see what happens.

My all-time streak record isn't in any legit danger. That would be 2,465 days, or 6.75 years that covered my final three years at West Virginia Wesleyan and the first 3.75 years after. Sometimes, that seems a lifetime ago. That is, until I am actually on the run. :-)

Three Days On The Road

Random stuff I learned (and re-learned) while running the Skyline Drive in Virginia’s Shenandoah National Park this past weekend, a jaunt I nicknamed the Tour de Skyline:

105 miles in 19:55 is pretty easy to do when you spread it across three days. A Gatorade-sweet tea-Red Bull combo provides a whole lot more fuel than just plain water. The Loft Mountain Wayside’s Big Greasy – what they should call the big-as-your-head sausage and egg biscuit – may be the tastiest breakfast food I have ever put in my mouth.

A pathetic little 800-foot climb seems McKinley-like when you think you’ve already reached the highest point for the day. One of the best reasons for going northbound is that the mile markers descend in order. My thoughts escape the buzz of my pea brain a whole lot more clearly at 5.5 miles per hour. Deer hooves make a distinctive clicking sound when they strike pavement.

You don’t need to eat much at all while on the run when your run distances are 40, 34 and 31 miles because there is plenty of time to refuel later. The hotter I get, the more annoying stupid drivers are. The 7-minute-run/3-minute-walk routine rules.

It sure is great to have friends, such as my dad who helped me with car shuttles and provided beer at the ends of Day 1 and 2, and my buddy Bob Ring who ran all of Day 3 with me. I figured this adventure would be a lot more difficult than it actually was, a testament to even pacing and no desire whatsoever to go fast.

Beer tastes so much colder after a quarter-day of sweating. It’s not every run when I get to look down on a hovering hawk.

I will never again see Shenandoah National Park – from my back yard, on my way to work, on my way home or any other time – without getting a really, really stupid grin.

A quotable quote (maybe)

My friend and fellow running bud Kent and I think we came up with a new saying while yakking during this morning's jaunt.

A grudge is easy for you to pick up but hard on you to carry.

A Day on the Greenbrier River Trail

On Saturday, July 8, my buddy Bob Ring and I traversed the Greenbrier River Trail, a rails-to-trails park that runs from Cass to almost Lewisburg in West Virginia's Pocahontas County. Here are some words about it.

http://www.greenbrierrivertrail.com/

The crunch-crunch-crunch of a couple hundred thousand footfalls. The simple solitude of the Greenbrier River, at times a roar but most often a silent companion. Many, many peaceful views across a land largely untouched by time.

A trail so canopied by trees that Bob Ring and I could have gone shirtless without sunscreen and not picked up a burn. Two pretty cool tunnels and 51 bridges. One lone town, Marlinton, directly on the trail, so what an amazing blessing to have Bob’s work friends Thomas and Jerry driving all over Hell’s Half-Acre with our aid. The realization that without bloodhounds like Thomas and Jerry on our side, this would have been an entirely different, exponentially more difficult trek.

The utter good fortune to have a 46F start, a low-70s day with no wind and no rain and a 54F finish to a July 8 run. The interesting self-reflection that happens when you spend the first 30 minutes and then the final hour of the same run in darkness.

The funny tricks your brain plays on you as you try to do simple math involving the following: A 77-mile-long trail with a stone marker at each mile, but with the markers labeled from Mile 80 to Mile 3. The amazing success we had with a 7-minute run/3-minute walk routine that kept us strong and steady the entire time.

Giving an A-minus to the experiment of going that whole way without any solid food, choosing instead to go with Equate meal replacement drinks, Fusion bottled smoothies, green tea, Red Bull, water and ginger ale. Fighting back just a few hours of mid-afternoon belly problems and having to a half-dozen potty breaks because, well, Friday night’s kielbasa/onions/home fries mix ranks as the dumbest pre-run meal I’ve ever consumed. Being glad that I solved that mess and that it didn’t really detract from the fun. Knowing that stuff is going to happen during a day full of forward movement that starts with a 3:30 a.m. wake-up and ends with a midnight bedtime, so dealing with it brings great satisfaction.

Finding a golf ball in the middle of the trail in the middle of nowhere around Mile 30. Wanna guess what the brand name was? Ultra. Spooky, huh? Yeah, I still have it. Good luck charm, I figure.

Seventy-seven miles. 17:17:16. 17 rabbits. 14 deer. Two new friends. Lots of gravels. Lots of laughs. Maybe being the first ones to ever run the whole enchilada in one shot. Feeling tired but not all that uncomfortable at the end. Having a cold beer while flat on my back with feet propped up at trail’s end, beaming with the joy of effort well spent, a plan well executed, a long day out of which we squeezed every ounce.

A run I will remember forever.