Night Hawk/Hawk Hundred Training

My ankle was pretty much healed and runnable by the beginning of May, but life was busy (graduations and grad parties!) so I got an extended break before really starting to train again. I took a vacation day on May 11 to (among other things) run a Lands End Loop at Clinton Lake, my first since late March. It seemed like it had been a long time since I'd been able to run my favorite trails and it was a great morning out to be out there. According to the calendar, I had seven weeks to get ready for the Nighthawk 50 on June 30, more than enough time.

A 50k, I know how to train for; training for the Hawk Hundred, I'm trying to figure that out. I thought that I was well trained for the 50 mile Rockin' K at the beginning of April, only to find out the hard way that I wasn't. I was in shape to run 50 miles at Clinton Lake or at Heartland (gravel roads), but the rugged terrain of the Rockin' K took more of a toll on my legs than I anticipated, and I was simply too slow for the cutoff times. I now feel that I have something to prove, so hopefully I will do well at Nighthawk and at the Hawk Hundred, then maybe return for a shot a redemption at next year's Rockin' K 50 (we'll see).

Things took a turn for the better in late May. I happened to reach out to a friend and fellow runner asking whether my peak 50 mile training run would be OK to run either 3 or 5 weeks before the Hawk (I have a scheduling conflict 4 weeks before). The response was some questions for me regarding my current mileage, training plan, injury, recovery, etc. Before I knew it, I had a coach working on a training plan for me! My Hawk Hundred coach (not something I thought I'd ever say) is someone I respect immensely with extensive training credentials and some 100 mile times on ultrasignup.com that I can't even dream of. This has really brought back a lot of my excitement/mojo for the Hawk that I lost when I DNF'ed  (did not finish) at Rockin' K. At least now I feel that my training is well thought out instead of just my best guess at it. If I can just put in the effort and stick to the plan (which I'm usually pretty reliable at doing), I feel that I have a very good chance at crossing that 100 mile finish line in September.

Night Hawk training is going well. I now have 5 more weeks to train, and my weekly mileage is increasing. I had one 45 mile week, but then some rains washed out my long weekend runs and I dropped down to a 28 mile week, so I added in some extra leg/core strength exercises. I'm hoping to get a trail run in when we go down to Arkansas next week, always fun to run new trails.

Lake Leatherwood, just outside of Eureka Springs, Arkansas

Aside from the mileage, my training plans always looks pretty much the same regardless of whether I'm getting prepared for a marathon, 50k, 50 miler, or now a 100 miler.  Every training book I've read breaks the days of the week down the same way, which just makes sense for us folks who work M-F. Generally, Mondays and Fridays are off days. Tuesday thru Thursday are relatively short runs in the 3-10 mile range (each day) with varying intensity (some easy runs, some speed work, hill repeats, etc.) Saturday is the long run, usually an easy to moderate pace anywhere from 10 to 50 miles. Sunday for me is generally an easy 10 miler on trails, but can be used as the 2nd half of a back-to-back long weekend run.

I'm now 2 1/2 weeks out from the Night Hawk, and things are going well. My weekly mileage has increased (50 last week) and so has the temperature. I know that it can get miserable for some folks this time of year, but I really feel my best when running in warm to hot temps. For the past several weeks, the high temps have been in the 90's with almost no rain, so the trails are dry and inviting. Unfortunately summer running also means spider webs in the face, snakes, covering your legs in DEET (and still getting bit by ticks), and carrying two water bottles instead of just one. Even with all of that though, I get some weird sense of satisfaction from having sweat dripping off of my soaking clothes. Physical evidence of the effort I'm putting in I guess. I've got a few more 50 mile weeks before tapering a bit for the Night Hawk, currently all systems are go.

This is just the fourth year of the Night Hawk and I'm really looking forward to it. I've been lucky enough to have finished them all so far. The first year (2015), the race course was changed from all dirt trails to about 80% roads because the trails were too muddy from so much rain in June. It rained on us for most of the first loop, which made for some pretty great sky pics from Mile 90.

Stormy skies at the 2015 Night Hawk, photo by Mile 90 Photography

My main memory of 2015 is that I ran at least a 55k instead of a 50k. I zoned out on the 3rd loop and made a wrong turn into the campground by the cabins. The other side roads all return to the main road, but that particular road just circles back on itself. Being tired and unfamiliar with that area, I just kept looping in circles. I finally found someone to ask and they pointed me in the right direction. It should have been obvious, but I was too tired and frustrated to figure it out (hint, just running harder doesn't help).

The 2016 Night Hawk was a war of attrition. The heat/humidity combined to take out a lot of runners. I don't remember the numbers, but I'm guessing that five to ten 50k runners DNFed because of the conditions. I normally don't cramp during races, but my legs completely locked up on me several times that night. The cramps were in my quads and my calves in both legs, sometimes all at the same time. When I felt them coming on, I would grab onto the nearest tree and hold on until they subsided enough to get going again. I adopted the tree hugging strategy after dropping to the ground from the cramping pain and then not being able to get back up. When I finally did get back up, there was a copperhead in the trail about 20 feet onwards. I also tripped and fell a lot that night, likely from all of the cramping. I must've tripped and hit the ground at least 5 times and every time the water bottles would launch from my pack and I'd have to fish them out of the brush. It was a great race (really, I'd do it again)!

The weather for the 2017 Night Hawk was surprisingly cool. I was able to run with just one handheld bottle that night and it worked well. I held back a bit too much on my first loop, but overall was pretty pleased with my time. I don't know whether it was the cooler temps or the sandals (my first race wearing Luna sandals), but I didn't fall once.

The weather looks kinda iffy for the 2018 Night Hawk, it may be another great night for cramps and DNFs. It is forecast to be about 90 degrees at the 8:00 PM start time, dropping down to the upper 70's around 2:00 AM. Unfortunately rain is also forecast (50-60% chance) to move in around 11:00 PM and to last throughout the rest of the race. It's still a few days away though, so the forecast may improve. As a runner I don't really mind the rain and mud (to a point), but it really makes the volunteers and race directors jobs a lot harder. Either way, I can't wait. Here's to bugs, sweat, and beers!!

Rolling a Fat One on 4/20

Ever wash your car and somehow blame yourself for making it rain the next day? Imagine the following words coming out of your mouth during a long run. "I've been running these rooty/rocky trails (at Clinton Lake) so much and its made my feet and ankles so strong that I don't think it's even possible for me to roll an ankle anymore." Yeah, I said that at some point in the past year. Yeah, it came back to bite me.
On Friday (4/20), my running buddy Al and I were about a mile and a half into a planned 10 mile loop on the North Shore Trails at Clinton Lake. I was negotiating a portion of the trail that I've probably run a hundred times before. The trail takes an abrupt left turn as it drops about 3 feet with a little water crossing at the bottom. As I was stepping down, I planted my right foot in position to push off and to the left to jump over the water. I either didn't see the root or just planted my foot in the wrong place because as my weight shifted onto my foot, my ankle rolled completely over to the outside with that root under my foot.
I thought that I heard a snap, but it was likely a stick crunching somewhere because there were no bones broken and though the tendons were really stretched, none of them snapped. I was a little freaked out for the first 30 seconds or so as I assessed the damage, but once I determined that the pain wasn't too bad and my ankle seemed to still be attached, I relaxed. After discovering that I could put my weight on it without any adverse affects, I was able to take a few exploratory steps and then walk carefully back to the trailhead. Thankfully a concerned Al was along for company. I briefly decided that it was OK to run on, and tried for about 20 yards before I thought better of it as the ankle just didn't seem very stable.

About 20 minutes after I rolled it (golf ball) 

After a 3 mile run 4 days later

I've joked that it was really the best kind of injury as I was able to post some really gnarly looking photos showing the swelling and discoloration, but aside from the first few minutes, the pain was negligible, which (for better or worse is yet to be determined) allowed me to go about my usual pursuits while it healed.
I know that common wisdom says to RICE (rest, ice, compression, elevate), but I did none of those things, unless going up and down a ladder for the next few days counts as 'elevate' or an awesome pair of Skyline Shuffle socks counts as compression. I certainly would've gone the RICE route if there was much pain (I need full anesthesia for hangnails/splinters), but since it didn't hurt and I was in the middle of an interior painting project, I kept on painting, although I was very cautious of where I stepped.
As noted above, I ran 3 very cautious miles on it 4 days after the injury, and another 5 miles a few days after that. I've since ran several 10 mile sessions all on roads, the levee, or the river trails. I hope to test it out tomorrow (5/11) on the rooty/rocky Clinton Lake trails, I plan to be slow and verrrrrry careful.

A few random thoughts/observations:

I was immediately relieved that I had someone with me and also that I had my phone. My worst running fear (aside from bears, dogs, mountain lions, and clowns) is to be out on the trails somewhere in freezing temps and snap an ankle. Without anyone around or a cell phone handy, things like lives and limbs could be at stake. I think the temps were in the 40's when I rolled it, so I was in no danger, but I did have to put a few layers back on as I definitely got chilly walking back to the trailhead. Pay heed winter runners!

Inflammation happens for a reason. For the first week or so, the swelling in my foot was not only cool to look at, but it seemed to hold everything in place so that my range of motion was severely limited. It was only after most of the swelling had gone away that I could accidentally or intentionally move my foot in such a way as to cause pain. I didn't take any anti-inflammatories or ice the area as the swelling seemed to be doing a pretty good job of protecting me from myself.

In the first week after the injury, I soaked my foot/ankle in a turkey roasting pan filled with hot water and epsom salt probably four times. I don't think there's any sound medical reason for using epsom salt, but it's what my Mom would've suggested so I did it. It was also a way to force me to sit down for 45 minutes or so. There's no way to tell if it actually sped up the healing, but I do think that the heat helped carry away some of the fluid that had gathered in my foot. My thinking was to keep everything moving and as warm/loose as possible to let the circulation aid in removing all the nasty stuff. I'm also thinking of playing a doctor on television (ba da dum).

I managed to get my hands on some CBD (cannabidiol) oil. It's a marijuana extract (no THC) and it's legal status is Kansas is unclear, but it's available in Ohio (and many other states), plus it ties in neatly with the 4/20 theme of this post. I rubbed it into my foot/ankle for several days and noticed significant improvement in my ankle's range of motion. Whether this was causitive or just happened to coincide with the normal healing process is impossible to know, but many people swear by it's effectiveness. I hopefully won't need it again, but will definitely try it again if needed.

My next race is the Nighthawk 50k on June 30 at Clinton Lake. Between a trip to Cleveland, end of the school year events, and the injury, I haven't been running much lately. That should change soon though and I'm looking forward to getting Nighthawk ready!

My 2018 Rockin' K Trail Run, a Solid "C"

That's the way that the world goes 'round
You're up one day, the next you're down 
It's a half an inch of water and you think you're gonna drown
That's the way that the world goes 'round - John Prine

Beautiful pic of the infamous Rockin' K water crossing by Mile90 Photography (after the ice melted)

The Rockin' K Trail Run is a really special race to me for a lot of reasons. It is also the toughest course that I've been on. I've run the marathon (one loop) version five times (2013-2017), but this year was my first attempt at the 50 mile (two loops) race.

The temperature at the 7:00 AM start was 15 degrees. With almost no wind, it actually felt warmer than the night before at the pre-race meal when the temp was mid 30's and dropping with a freezing gusty wind. Both the pre-race meal and the hour before the start of the race have a family reunion feel to me. So many friends and familiar faces to gab with about (mostly) running or anything really. Mostly we talked about how cold it would be going through the waist deep water crossing and how beautiful the snow would look once the sun came up.

Pre-run pic by John Knepper. Ready for some miles! Love the look of the frozen blacktop. 

(L-R Mary Ann Frevert, Keith Dowell, Me, Shari Hicks)

After photobombing a few selfies, it was time to start. I felt really good through most of the first loop. I kept telling myself to take it easy and not push it, since I would need plenty left in the tank for the second loop. I was hiking up hills that I normally would run and peeling off layers of clothing as needed so that I wouldn't overheat. With 3-4 miles left in Loop 1 though, I started feeling a little fatigued and realized that I was hiking the hills whether or not I wanted to. My Loop 1 time was 5:37, right where I planned it would be, but I wasn't feeling as fresh as I'd hoped.

In the first few miles of this beautiful course, pic by Mile90 Photography, they're awesome!

I've read the Rockin' K race info many times, but apparently had always skipped the part about cutoff times since they only apply to the 50 mile race. About a week prior to the race I finally noticed and realized that cutoffs could be a problem for me. The first cutoff requires that you finish Loop 1 in 6 1/2 hours (1:30 PM). I knew that I could do that as my previous single loop times ranged from 5:01 to 5:45. The second cutoff time is reaching Gate 6 Aid Station in 9 hours (4:00 PM). I felt pretty good about making that cutoff too as long as I wasn't having any major issues. The third cutoff time is to finish the Big Bluff Loop and be back to Aid Station 6 in 10 hours (5:00 PM). That worried me as I suspected that I'd be moving pretty slowly at that point and the 5 mile Big Bluff Loop has always been a beautiful time suck for me. I love that part of the course, but after leaving the scenic bluffs overlooking the Smoky Hill River, I swear that it's all uphill back to Gate 6 Aid Station. I slow down and the clock seems to speed up. The last cutoff is to finish the race within 13 hours (8:00 PM). That one didn't really matter to me, as I figured that if I was able to finish, I would have accomplished my goal of going 50 hard miles to help prepare me for the Hawk Hundred. If I didn't get an official finish, I would be OK with that.

End of Loop 1, pic by Mile90 Photography

In my training, I'd really emphasized being mentally prepared to leave the aid station at the end of Loop 1. I worried that I would be tempted to call it a good effort, grab a veggie burger and a beer, and just hang out with friends. As it turned out, even though I suspected that I wouldn't be able to make the cutoff times, I never doubted that I would at least start my second loop. I did, but I was moving really slowly, alternating between walking and running even on the flats, and my hopes of finishing were sinking fast. An hour or so later, I felt better and was running pretty well again, gaining confidence that I could do it. Eventually though, I was hiking more than running and reality started to set in. You know how every race report at some point says "my quads were trashed"? I don't really like that saying as it seems overused, and I like it even less now that I know what they're talking about. I felt like my legs just couldn't hold me stable enough to run the downhills, kinda like a car with bad brakes. So, at this point, I couldn't really run the downhills or the uphills, I could run the flats for a while, but before long, I'd find myself hiking instead of running. Still though, it was a beautiful day and I was enjoying every minute of it!

I intentionally hadn't looked at my watch all day, but decided to take a peek to see if I could make it to Gate 6 Aid Station before the cutoff at 4:00, it was 3:47. Since Loop 2 is shorter than Loop 1, there is a section of trail called Alexander's Cutoff that the 50 mile runners take on their second loop. I'd never ran that section before, so I had no idea how far away the aid station was. I had just come to terms with the fact that I would miss the 4:00 cutoff time when I popped up over a hill and saw the aid station about 100 yards away. I made it with 5 minutes to spare.

Volunteer extraordinaire Natasha Thomas-North and Race Director extraordinaire Elden Galano at the Gate 6 Aid Station (not pictured volunteer extraordinaire Billy Weaver and countless other extraordinary volunteers, pic by Mile90 Photography)

I could see that the volunteers were starting to tear the aid station down, as any runners that arrived after 4:00 couldn't continue on. After a quick internal debate about continuing, I filled my bottles, grabbed some Oreo's and started off. A few hundred yards down the trail though, I came to the top of a hill and had a good look around at the beautiful scenery (although the snow had melted away), ate my Oreo's and decided to call it a day.  If I was to keep going, I would certainly miss the next cutoff as there was no way I could run the Big Bluff Loop in one hour (probably not even with fresh legs). I really hated the thought of the volunteers waiting another couple of hours for me to finish, but really, I just didn't think anything would be gained by continuing. I'd proven to myself what I needed to for the day, hopefully I'll get another day to beat the clock on this course.

Someone got a finisher medal, I'll be back for one next year. (pic by Mile90 Photography)

I carried a handheld water bottle (just like the one pictured above) for the first loop, and that worked pretty well. I didn't drink a lot during the first half of the loop since it had been so cold (in fact, I had to "chew" on the bite valve at times to clear the ice), but I filled the bottle at the Gate 6 Aid Station and again at the unmanned Gate 2 Aid Station, and had drank the bottle dry by the end of Loop 1. For Loop 2, I put on my hydration pack with my pre-filled bottles of coconut water and chia seeds. I don't really like running with a pack as the bottles in front bruise my ribcage, but I knew that I'd be moving slower on Loop 2 and the weather would warm up, so I'd likely need both bottles. I also wolfed down an avocado sandwich, lots of dates, and a half a bottle of coconut water while using my car as an aid station/drop bag between loops. I thought about switching into dry socks, but my feet felt fine and I didn't want to waste any more time than was necessary. I carried a baggie full of coconut covered date rolls that I munched on periodically. I've eaten dates in past training runs and races, they are a high calorie food that I can eat easily, even when I don't feel like eating.

So, my test score for the race was 38 (miles) out of a possible 50 (or 76/100). 76% is a solid "C" as I recall, basically nature's way of saying "Nice try kid, thanks for playing, hopefully that wasn't your best effort". I should emphasize that "C" is the grade for my race, the Rockin' K gets an "A+" every time, that I've ran this race six times now kind of says it all. Maybe I worried too much about my mental game for this race and not enough about my physical training. I had run 30 miles of Bunker Hill repeats (the Bunker Hillapalooza) just two weeks prior to the race to help prepare me, but Bunker Hill isn't technical (no rocks, roots, uneven footing, etc.) and there is a lot of flat trail in between the ascents and descents. I still felt pretty fresh after those 30 miles, so I assumed that I was ready for the Rockin' K, but I probably should've returned for 10-15 more miles of hills the next day. I will definitely include more technical downhill running in prep for The Hawk as I'll be training on that same course at Clinton Lake (overnight Hawk loops in August anyone?).

The only race that I'm currently signed up for now is the Hawk Hundred, on 09/08/18. I will almost certainly run the Night Hawk 50k in June, but I haven't committed to it yet. I may put up a training post or two between now and September. My current plan is to take it easy for the next few weeks just to clear out the blahs of being in continuous training mode since January. After that I will slowly start building towards hopefully being in the best shape of my life this fall!

Pi Day River Rotation March 10, 2018

I didn't do much running in the two weeks between the Psycho Wyco and the Pi Day Run. I really needed the time to recover after running/hiking 30 miles in sandals through ankle deep mud at Psycho. Even though my feet were fine during the race, I definitely had some stiffness/soreness to work out of my toes, it took the better part of a week for them to feel mostly normal again. I did a lot of stretching and foam rolling over those two weeks, but I only ran three times, twice for about 5 miles each on the treadmill and one easy run of 6-ish miles on the Clinton Lake trails. This seemed to  be about right training-wise, as I felt rested and ready to go for Pi Day.

I'd signed up for the Pi Slam, which is a 5k (7:30 start time) and a half marathon (9:00 start time). Since I generally run longer races (marathon and longer) I train at a fairly slow pace that I can  sustain, so I rarely try to run fast. I would come to regret not training at a faster pace though since it  took the better part of a week for my calves to loosen back up after the Pi Day races. I'm writing this on Thursday after the race, and the lower part of my calves, just above my achilles are still tender. At least I can now walk down stairs without bracing myself on the hand rail.

I was pleased with both of my races. I think that I could've run the 5k a bit faster (25:14), but I held back for the first mile or so. Truth was, I was intimidated by the shirt that the dude in front of me was wearing. I figured that anyone wearing a Hitchcock Experience shirt is a beast of a runner and I'd be foolish to try and pass him so early in the race (I told him about this as we talked afterwards, very nice guy). I just run by how I feel, I don't use a running watch that shows my pace, so I wasn't sure how much to push it early on. After running on his heels for a while though, I figured that I needed to go around him if I could, I know that I don't like anyone following closely behind me for too long.

This is me trailing the Hitchcock Dude (Jody Pasalich), photo by Mile 90

The half marathon went well and I was pleased to finish under 2 hours. I really felt good through the two 5 mile loops. The last 3 mile loop though, I was starting to slow, and I got passed by 4-5 people in the last mile and a half. I could tell by the burning in my legs that I was going to be sore afterwards. My normal running pace doesn't make my muscles burn like that. Going hard enough to feel that burn in a longer race is a definite no-no for me as I'm not really able to recover and will be much slower from that point onwards.

This race is so much fun! I really love running the roller coaster-y river trails, they make me feel faster (for a while anyway). They are such a great changeup from the North Shore Trails at Clinton Lake. No roots, no rocks, no climbs. The weather was absolutely perfect, the swag was awesome, the pie was delicious, and the beer was cold. The race directors (Caroline and Libby) did an awesome job as always, I really love the engraved forks that were given out as finisher medals.

RDs Libby (left) and Caroline (right) presenting me with my Pi Slam shirt, photo by Mile 90

I'm a little apprehensive about my next race. I'm running the 50 mile version (2 loops) of the Rockin' K at Kanopolis Lake on April 7. This will be my sixth consecutive year running this race, but my first time going longer than the marathon distance. I plan to write up a race report afterwards and I intend to bug you about it until you read it. :-)

Psycho Wyco, February 24, 2018

The Psycho Wyco Run Toto Run trail race takes place on the bridle (horse) trails that form a 10 mile loop around Wyandotte County Lake in Kansas City, Kansas. The 2013 Psycho Wyco was my first time ever running on trails (I'm sure that I ran along a riverbank somewhere as a kid, but you know what I mean).  I ran the 10 mile race that year, and I've ran the 20 mile (2 loop) race three times since then, so it's a race that I'm familiar with. Since it's in February, the conditions tend to be extreme. 2013 was a mud pit, 2014 was a foot of snow that would not pack down, 2016 was unusually warm (70's or even 80's by afternoon, I believe), only 2017 was good running conditions (dry trails, temp in the 20's and 30's). As I mentioned in my previous post, I decided to run the 50k (3 loops) version of the 2018 Psycho Wyco to help me prepare for the Hawk Hundred in September.

In the past, I've averaged about 2 hours per loop on this course. My second loop has been around 20 minutes slower than the first. Since I was pretty happy with my training leading up to this race, I was hoping for less than 6 hours for 3 loops. As soon we entered the trail and I saw how muddy the course was, I knew that 6 hours was out of the question. As it was, a lot of the mud was still somewhat frozen on Loop 1, so I managed the first loop in 2:01.

I still felt good heading out for Loop 2 until I was a half mile or so down the trail. That's when I saw the carnage that was left from the 250 or so 10 mile runners who had passed through an hour after the 250 or so 50k and 20 mile runners. All of the remaining snow and ice had thawed, and with all of the runners passing through, the trail was now an ankle deep pool of muck. These trails are always pretty rough, because they are meant for horses, and unlike the trails meant for 2 legged creatures, horses tend to create a deep trough or channel in the ground. Running through these muddy channels really takes a toll on your hip stabilizer muscles. I've been doing strength workouts for my hip adductors and abductors, but even with that, I wasn't prepared for 30 miles of slip/sliding forward, side-to-side, and yes backwards. So, Loop 2 was 2:46, and I was feeling pretty worn down.

As I headed back out for Loop 3, I knew that everyone's finish times were way longer than they'd hoped, mine would be too, so it goes. I was sick of the mud, but this was what I'd signed up for, running for hours when I'd really rather not.  I will need mental toughness if I'm going to run 100 miles in September, so this was just what I needed to do. Loop 3 was mostly hiking all the way around the lake, I tried to take advantage of any runnable sections, but they were few and far between, and my running wasn't very fast.

I hiked nearly the entire section from the start to the first aid station. There were many familiar faces among the awesome volunteers cheering me on when I arrived into Aid Station 1, and that really helped to perk me up. After leaving the aid station, the course goes through what is called "The Triangle", which is a meandering section of trail about a mile in length, after which you wind up on the other side of Aid Station 1. As I started the triangle I mentioned that I'd be ready for a shot of Fireball Whiskey when I exited. Of course the awesome volunteers didn't disappoint. The shot was waiting for me and they even provided a toast so that I wouldn't have to drink alone (not that it would've bothered me). That was a first, I've never had any alcohol during a race, but at the pace I was going, I knew it wouldn't hurt anything, and besides, it was pretty damn chilly.

Somewhere on Loop 3, as we were climbing up one of the muddy narrow channels, the guy in front of me lifted his foot and realized that his shoe had stayed in the mud. I offered some help, but he insisted that I just go around him (thinking back I don't know what help I possibly could've been). That wasn't easy to do however as it was so slippery that if you tried to climb to the side, you would just slide back into the middle. After awkwardly bouncing off of each other a few times, I managed to get around him and continue on.

This pic by Mile 90 Photography really captured how I was feeling at that moment on Loop 3. I'd just climbed a steep slippery hill and was gathering myself for more.

About 2 miles from the finish as I emerged from the woods at the final aid station (at the top of a tough hill), I was greeted by one of the volunteers shouting "Heyyyy M*&#@!*+=#er!". I started  laughing so hard that it took me a few minutes before I could answer and ask them for another shot of Fireball. They poured an extra-healthy dose and cheered as I downed it. I really can't say enough about how I appreciate the volunteers in these races. The races simply could not happen without them. It's no small thing to give up an entire Saturday and wake up at an ungodly hour to work for no pay in the cold and mud. Having done it a few times though, I can say that it is completely worth it to see/help the runners achieving their goals.

I finished Loop 3 in 3:28, almost an hour and a half longer than my first loop. Total time for the 50k was 8:17. On the bright side, I should definitely be able to improve next time. On the brighter side, I had lots of good friends to cheer and greet me at the finish as well as some new sweet swag!

Picture by John Knepper (L-R Shari Hicks, Barbie Stephen, Me, Ami Weidler-Hyten, John Knepper)

I had a hard time figuring out how many layers to wear for this race. Temps were in the 30's at the start and the forecast was for early afternoon rain and a high in the low-mid 40's. I ended up packing a backpack with (it seemed) 3 complete changes of clothes, putting it with the drop bags, and never using it (in fact I forgot it completely until I was driving out of the park and had to double back to get it). So, a tech fabric t-shirt, insulated arm sleeves, a long-sleeved tech shirt, and a water resistant jacket tied around my waist worked perfectly. I got chilly on Loop 2 and put on the jacket when the mist started turning to light rain. Once the jacket was on, I kept it on for the rest of the race as I wasn't moving fast enough to get too warm. From past experience, I'm cautious about running in cool wet weather. Running in wet clothes may be OK at first, but after getting worn down in a long run, you can reach a point where you can't move fast enough to generate enough internal heat to maintain your core temp. So I try to keep a rain resistant fabric at hand and layer properly so as not to sweat through the layers underneath.

I drank plenty of water, but didn't eat much during food this race, and that wasn't very smart. I didn't ever "bonk", but I did catch myself a few times on during Loop 3, just sort of lollygagging along. If I'm not able to run, I try to at least hike with a purpose, but it was tough staying motivated once I knew that my finish time would be so slow. There were some vegan energy balls on the first and second loops that were really good, I probably had 3 or 4 of those. Between loops 2 and 3, I did shove about 10 Pringles in my mouth at one time. I tried to apologize to the volunteer that witnessed this, but that just made matters worse as the crumbs flew out as I tried to speak. I don't really know why, but I also downed a cup of pickle juice at this stop. Maybe I felt some leg cramps coming on and wanted to prevent them anyway I could. I'm not sure if it helped, but it did remind me that I don't really like pickles. As these things normally go though, the foods were pretty well picked over by Loop 3. I had a baggie full of dates in my flip-belt in case I got too hungry, but never needed them.

That's it. Step 1 of my plan to get ready for the Hawk Hundred has been successfully completed. Two weeks after Psycho Wyco is the Pi Day River Rotation, I'm signed up for the 5k and the half marathon (long story). I can't wait for it, great race with awesome people! April 7th is the Rockin' K 50 miler, I've definitely got some training to do before I'm ready for that.

Oh yeah, I ran the Psycho Wyco (as I do all runs) in my Luna sandals and (when it's cold) Kakuetta Trail wool socks. Pic by Mile 90 Photography, the best in the business!

Running Goals in 2018

(Fair warning, this post is all about running. I plan to run a 100 mile race in the fall of 2018, I would also like to write up a race report about that experience. Having never blogged before, I thought that I would write up a few "practice" posts to get the hang of it. Any feedback with or without accompanying ridicule would be much appreciated.)

At some point in 2017, I realized that if I was ever going to run a hundred mile race, I'd better do it soon because I wasn't getting any faster or younger. Since I may only want to run 100 miles once, the race I'd choose could only be the Hawk Hundred, put on by the Lawrence Trail Hawks, a group that has become like a family to me and a race that I look forward to all year long. The schedule didn't work for me in 2017 though, so I decided that 2018 would be the year. I first bounced the idea off Deanna, when she didn't say no (she's talked me out of dumber ideas), I decided that I'd give it a shot. I began telling my plan to folks in my running tribe, the idea being that once I had publicly committed, there'd be no backing out.

For the past several years I intentionally start cutting back on my mileage in the fall and running much less for the last two (or so) months of the year. I like having a break, to run only when I feel like it, and not worry about monthly mileage. This gives me a bit of a mental/physical reset and allows me to ask the question, "Do I really want to do this?", so far the answer has always been "Heck yeah, what do you think?" (Napolean Dynamite).  So, each New Years Day, I  begin the struggle to get in shape for the 20 mile version of the Psycho Wyco in February. If I train right, I'm normally fairly well prepared for the Rockin' K Marathon, which is always the first weekend in April. By then, the weather is warm, which means I'll run at any given opportunity (#teamsummer!), so it's pretty easy to be ready for the Night Hawk 50k at the end of June. After that, if I'm not injured I set my sights on the 50 mile version of the Hawk Hundred in September. There are a few shorter races that I love to do in late September (Konquer the Konza 25k) and October (Randolph's Revenge Half Marathon), but after being in 50 mile shape for the Hawk Hundred, I don't really need to train hard for either of these. That's pretty much my usual race calendar for the year.

I've really enjoyed this schedule for the past few years, but I don't think it's challenging enough to properly prepare me for my first hundo attempt, so I decided I'd change things up. In 2017, I didn't dial it back at the end of the year, October through January, I averaged around 160 miles per month. In January and February, I'd run long outside on trails on the weekends, but the weekday workouts were strictly on the treadmill.

I don't mind the treadmill at all in the winter. To me, it's so much easier to just put on a pair of shorts and head to the basement after work than it is to figure out how much to layer up, put in contacts, and mess with a headlamp. Not to mention the cold temps, dogs, sometimes icy conditions, and wondering if the cars really see me as I'm running on the shoulder of the road in the dark. It's just too much hassle for an hour or so of running. The treadmill also forces me to think about what I'm trying to accomplish with each workout (i.e. what settings to choose for speed and incline). Over the years I've gotten so that I don't really like running on the treadmill on a fast setting, so for most of my workouts I leave the speed set at 10 minute miles and adjust the incline to vary the intensity of the workout (8 degrees gets intense pretty quickly). I do bump up the speed on occasion, but not for too long. I finish nearly every workout by maxing out the incline setting and hiking for a half mile just as fast as I can manage. I tend to think of the Three Sisters (three really tough hills towards the end of the 10 mile loop at Psych Wyco) and the Big Bluff Loop section of the Rockin' K Marathon while I'm doing this powerhike training.

To help prepare for my 100 mile attempt, I decided that I would run the longer distances of my usual spring races, the Psycho Wyco (50k instead of 20 miles) and the Rockin' K (50 miles instead of a marathon). Not only would these longer races help prepare me physically for The Hawk, but also help prepare me mentally for the long hours on the trail, at least that's the plan.

The mental side of running 100 miles is what concerns me the most. I'm fortunate in that I haven't really had any injuries that I couldn't manage and I am pretty reliable about putting in the training sessions, but how will I respond to running all day and all through the night? I've run 50 miles on a few occasions, but going twice that distance will be totally new to me and I want to prepare myself as well as I can. Running a third (10 mile) loop at Psycho Wyco and a second 25 mile loop at Rockin' K seem like good ways to do that. I want to push myself to a place where I mentally want to quit, at that point is where the mental training begins, that's what I'm calling adversity training. (I doubt that I invented that phrase, but I don't know where I first heard it either.)

As I mentioned earlier, I didn't cut back on mileage at the end of 2017.  In fact over the break between Christmas and New Year's I ran 6 out of 7 days. The weather was cooperating, so I took full advantage. My Psycho Wyco training  through January and February seemed to go pretty much as planned, I felt ready to go as Feb 24th approached, I plan to cover how that race went in another post.