I am an Ironman (at least a Tin man)

Some Background

Some of you may know me, and I apologize for that. I am traditionally a runner. I enjoy track more than cross country and road racing, but I have succumbed to the growing fad of longer road racing. This past weekend I ran my first real triathlon. I say real because this past winter I did two indoor triathlons, but those involved pool swims and stationary bikes. This was an Ironman 70.3 (half-Ironman).

Last year at our running club's end of year banquet, we were all asked to set goals for 2012. Mine were to log another 2000 miles injury free and to complete a 1/2 Ironman. I am well on my way to the to the 2000 mile mark:

Running Log powered by RunningAHEAD

...and this past weekend, July 15, 2012, I completed the Racine 70.3.

When I first made the goal, I was going to do everything right, I was going to train my biking and swimming and even hit the weight room. The one caveat was that I was not going to relax my running training; so all tri training must be in addition to running training. It was an awesome plan and it was held fast to for almost a week.  "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft agley." (The best laid schemes of mice and men / Often go awry.)

My training schedule leading up to Racine was: on June 24th I went swimming at my dad's lake. Beautiful Lake Wauhob in Indiana. I swam like 40000 centimeters which was basically the distance from his dock to the neighbors and all the was back. On July 4th, I did a social bike ride of a metric century (62.7 mi/100 km). I started the ride with a duathlete, a young buck from the running club and a third rider who was about my age. The duathlete and young buck schooled me, but in my defense I only wanted to ride 20-21 mph and they kept going 24-26 mph. I was not that fast. This ride also had three rest areas, where you got off the bike lined up to refill fluids, sample fruit and local baked goods and the rejoined the route at your leisure. Triathlons have no rest areas. Additionally, I got to take turns riding in a pack here, but for a triathlon, they're tyrants about not allowing drafting. An Ironman is just a straight up test of how much stress can you handle alone. I then had another solo ride of 40 miles on July 8th. I think that sufficiently trained one for the needs of a 70.3 triathlon.

Race Weekend:

On Saturday, I headed up to Racine from the suburbs of Chicago, it was a pleasant day and the projected weather for Sunday was possible rain, but hot. I was kinda feeling OK about this. I had already decided I was not going to compete this, I just needed to complete this. Triathlon check ins are similar to marathon expos, but there are a couple additions. In the triathlon, you sign a waiver about there being lots of ways to get injured or die, but it's on you. Secondly they tag you at the check-in with a band that has your number on it so that only you can enter the transition area and lay claim to you bike afterwards. They also have a race prep meeting, that is not mandatory, but goes over all the rules in the 23 page Athlete's Guide. I read the guide and there are really only two important rules, don't draft and don't litter. There is also the implied try not to die. Having read the entire guide I skipped this, but in retrospect I bet it would have helped to attend to get a feel for what transitions are like. Another element unique to triathlon is that you basically have to impound your bike the day before the race as well. This was strange to me, because my bike is my single biggest expense piece of athletic gear.

While dropping off the bike, I took note of where the different legs of the event enter and exit transition. Simple logistics dictates that there is some rhyme and reason to how swimmers come in, bike leave and re-enter and runner exit so that there aren't huge bottle necks. At this point it should be noted that I was very impressed by how well organized the volunteers and processes in general were. More on that later. I also took the time to walk down to the water and check out the water temperature. C-O-L-D!!! I'd read that the water temps were unseasonably warm, but having forgotten that Lake Michigan is a very cold like, warm is relative. At this point, it should be noted that I did not plan on wearing a wetsuit. I don't own one and have never practiced in one. Besides this a sport of bravado; surely only the weaker athletes need wetsuits. Even though the water was cold I figured my efforts would raise my body temp enough to muscle through.

All that's left is to get some dinner and sleep. This triathlon has a swim that is basically a mile long and parallels the beach, you walk about a mile north in the morning and swim south to the transition area. Also the transition area is open from 5:00a to 6:30a. Roughly converted, that's early. While the bike went to transition the day before, you have to bring the day-of gear on the morning of the event. The day-of gear is cycling shoes, helmet, gloves and socks for the bike running shoes and socks for the run, sunglasses and nutrition for both and a towel to sit on and dry off with during transitions. Space is tight so you have to decide how you want to lay this all out and I think I did OK. I also left gum and suntan lotion on the towel to use before the last two legs. Basically this is not the type of event where you rub the sleep from your eyes, don some shorts and running shoes and you're set for the day.

What about the Race?

Ok, so race morning, I wake up and drive into town to prepare my transition area. We get to the transition area at about 5:30. My race support for the day is a club runner and she has a 1 hour run that she has to do for the day. She also wanted to get the run in before the race so she could cheer me and several other club runners on. One I set everything out, and I was fortunate my allocated space was on the edge of the transition area, I asked her to give me a heads-up on whether it was a good layout. I pumped up the tires and we walked the pump back to the car. She then got ready to run and I decided I would walk towards the start area, but I did not want to sit in the sun an extra 90 minutes so I walked to the zoo that borders the beach and has a walking path that is shaded and just layed down for about 45-50 minutes. I was close enough to the start to hear the starter. Triathons are started in waves to spread out the density of athletes over time. Basically, a new group starts every 5 minutes. The pros were first at 7:00a and I was slated for 7:50. I did get up to watch the pros start, but then returned to my shaded restful state. About 15 minutes before my start time I headed to the beach. I wanted to acclimate myself to the water. The water was cold for the first few seconds but after dunking myself all was well. Looking around I have just noticed that everyone has a wetsuit, not a lot, literally everyone. I'm starting to get nervous about my choices now, but it's a lil' to late.

I head to the corral for my start wave and walk through the arches. This preps you chip to get a race time. We then all wade into the water a bit and wait for the starter to send us off. At the gun, I had the best high knee run to get into swimming mode. I think this is as useful as sprinting at the marathon start and waving your arms screaming, "I'm winning!" I start into the swim and feel there is still a lot of adrenaline. I am probably in the front third of my wave at the first turn buoy. The swim course is setup that you swim out 200 yds turn parallel to the beach for approximately a mile and swim in the 200 yds. the turn buoys are Red. Then along the long leg they start yellow and turn to orange at the halfway point. After passing two yellow buoys, I start to realize, I can't swim a whole mile like this. I also start to realize the buoyancy of a wetsuit would be very welcome right now. I'm the only topless athlete in the water and I'm pretending to think that's why every lifeguard and paddle boardist asked if I was OK. It was either that or the fact that I was drinking the lake one mouthful at a time and thrashing about like a seal looking to be a meal. The yellow buoys just kept coming so I kept thinking, you're not even half-way done you idiot. The swim continued this way until I came to the orange buoys, then the game changed to, "where is the red turn buoy?" Finally, the next buoy turns red and I feel as though I may escape the swim leg. On the leg back to the beach the sunlight reflecting through the water played tricks on me. I felt as though I could see the bottom so I kept testing to see if I could stand yet. Each test had the same result; you're over your head and this how to start the drowning process; there is not bottom. I eventually make it to the beach and fully expect that I was in the water for an hour. It turns out I was done in 46 minutes; my goal was 40, so not terrible.

Time to Bike

Once out of the water, you have to traverse the deep dry beach to get to the boardwalk of 1/4 mile to enter the transition zone (7 mins). This was my fastest run segment of the day. I now have to clear my thoughts and prepare for the bike. I rinse my feet of sand and put some socks on. I apply some sunscreen, put on my race shirt (harder than anticipated due to exhaustion) and my helmet and shoes and grab the bike. I push it to the transition exit and there is a bit of a bottleneck. Everyone knew to get the bike to here, but some forgot that they must now mount the bike and ride it. The start of the bike is straight up hill, but I was in a good gear and got up to the first turn where I started to sit back and take inventory of the situation. I feel pretty good, I have my breath back from swimming, feel confident that I did not lose too much time on that leg and had an OK transition. Now I start setting my tempo, I decided for 20mph but only if it was easy, I did not want to red zone. I am really passing a lot of people and finally see a guy doing about my pace so I sit in 4 length back and we start rolling. We were rolling all the way until about 4 miles in...

The Nightmare

At 4 miles we have a right hand turn, while the course is open to traffic, at the intersections they are controlling traffic through. This one had a cop and two volunteers and I feel they were admiring the flowers growing in the ditch because they allowed an SUV to come through the intersection at the same time that the rider ahead of me was there. Since physics dictates that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time; we were about to see if we could create a Higgs Boson. The rider ahead of me tried to stop using the brakes, but the merging truck did not give way and he hit the ground and slid into the truck. Btw, I am riding 20 mph and only 20 feet back so I have to figure out how to avoid the same outcome. I grabbed too much rear brake, and did a bit of fish-tail. I ended up unclipping as the slide started, but the steel clip on my shoe was a skate on the pavement, so I ended up with the clipped foot under the SUV and my unclipped foot spread eagle into the splits, which I cannot do naturally. Half-way through the skid I heard a pop; that was my rear tire. Things happened fast here, so I have to try hard to remember the events. Step one, get out from under truck, step two, accidentally, kick truck with as much force from a steel bottom shoe. Step three, assess me for brokenness (no issues, thankfully) step four check on downed rider. He thinks he is OK, but he got a lot of rash. I am very confident that through this process I bitched out the driver and kinda let the cop and two volunteers know that I was not particularly happy with their work product for the day. While it is poor taste to rant at a volunteer, I feel he put lives at risk and didn't do what he volunteered to due and the cop just straight up flubbed the task at hand. At this point I am shaking and upset and realizing that something really bad was narrowly avoided just now. Since the other rider claimed to be OK, I started determining my next steps. Given all that had just occurred I was not thinking straight, so my first gut response was great there's $$$$ down the drain and I took of my shoes and started walking back to the transition/starting area. Very quickly a race official in a pickup came by and asked if I was OK and needed help and I was dejected so I just said I was disappointed with the traffic control and though I had to bag the day. He asked if I wanted to fix the flat and I then started to realize, wait, maybe I can salvage the day. He then asked what happened and I explained and pointed him to the downed rider. Until this point he thought I was the downed rider; and he was here to investigate the accident announced on race radio. So he was done with me, but he did plant the seed. I quickly got the tube and CO2 cartridge out of my saddle bag and proceeded to change my tire. At this point I am down about 10 minutes between sulking, ranting and walking, but I changed the tire in 2-3 minutes and was putting air back in when I heard a rather loud POP! FEKKITY FEK FEK! While I had changed tires before it's a rarity for me and after getting the tube partially inflated I did not check to insure the tire was properly seated before fully inflating. That one's on me, but could have been avoided had the idiot in the truck paid attention. OK, so I am shifting blame a bit on the second tire pop. Well now here I sit with a flat and no tube and an empty CO2 cartridge; now my day if definitely over. I continue the walk of shame back to the start line. After about 10-15 minutes, a Trek Shop support team asks if I need help and I am very dejected and not polite or friendly, but I finally break down and ask if they can get me back on the road. Hearing this they jump into action. This time they took the back tire off and completed the tire/tube change and said good luck. Based upon this alone, everyone, go check out the Trek Stores of Madison; they were my hero for the day.

Bike ON! OK, I walked back about a mile of the course and my attitude stinks and I have expended a lot of useless energy, but I am peddling again. Because of how long I was down, I did nothing but pass people for the next 52 miles. I think I was only passed by a handful of riders who could make the pass stick. Again, this is not due to my cycling prowess, rather it's because I sunk back far enough that all the proficient cyclists where already ahead of me. the course was moderately rolling, no sharp hills and I was planning on carrying an 18 mph and ended up with about 18.5 moving average.

As the bike ride was coming to an end, I tried to loosen up my back which had been hunched over all day. I was also nursing my quads which were acting up. I was pretty good taking in nutrients and salts on the ride, but not good enough to avoid slight cramps. The bike ride ends with the same downhill that I rode up to start, so I'm gonna try something new on race day. What could possibly go wrong? I loosened my shoes so that I could pull my feet out and leave the shoes clipped. I see triathletes do that all the time. It turns out I could do this, but as I tried to pull my feet out, it fired calf muscles like standing on the ball of your foot, because I was standing on the ball of my foot. I got to the transition, dismounted and quickly pushed my bike to it's rack. I then changed shoes, not socks as I had planned, discarded garbage and took on nutrients. My support team handed me a half-melted bottle of water and I was on my way (5 mins).

Time to Run

My plan for the day was to swim and bike conservatively enough to try and carry 7 minute pace for the half marathon. I felt like I was in OK shape and this course was mostly flat. There are a couple hills near the transition, but otherwise it's flat. It's two out and back loops to a light house that you can see from the start. The T2 inventory told me my legs were in pretty good shape and I had not yet redlined for the day, so I'm gonna crush this run. As I launch out of transition, I tried to be slow. Bzaganjo at Running Ahead warned me to run the first mile or two 30 seconds over projected pace. That was my intention; I failed. I also did not experience the "my legs don't want to run because I just cycled" phenomena. My first mile was 6:54; I was passing people by leaps and bounds, these people are all death marching. What a bunch of maroons. Somewhere between 1.5 and 2 miles I realized, it's hotter than the face of the sun out here, I'm tired and my energy stored are depleted. Oh, Lord, this is gonna be a long run. I very quickly started a run walk regime, I don't think I ran another full mile on the first 6+ mile loop. As I passed through the T-zone my support crew said I was 1:08, btw I have a watch I knew that ;( I did respond back to not expect the second to be any better. The quads that were signalling on the bike were in full on cramp mode and they didn't show signs of letting up. I was taking on too much liquid and food as a crutch and really giving myself no chance to get into a running rythm. During the second lap I kept trying to mount a resurgance, but could only get a mile of running in at a time. At about 11 miles I decided I was gonna run this thing home. Run mind you not this hobby-jogging death march. Raising the pace did feel better, but I could tell it was consuming more energy than I seemed to have. The last two miles were at 7:30s so I have that and a medal to show for the day. The run segment was a glorious 2:14 for a half marathon, uuugh!

Lessons

For starters, I cannot run a triathlon on fitness alone, I need more bike and swim time. 24 hours ago, right after the race I swore off triathlons. I have softened my stance since then, but I am still more out than in. I will get a wet suit next time.

MTA: As the sub-title suggests, I am only a Tin Man now, need to do the full to move up to the Ironman.

That's my story...

KM100 and FANS24

This weekend was really cool. I got up stupidly early on Saturday morning after
being out til midnight the night before with my new 3 week old girlfriend. F-U
to everyone who just said "Awww". Double F-U to everyone who just
journied to creepy land.

Kettle Moraine 100

I was kinda debating what I was gonna do. We had a club mate running the KM100
miles race and he wanted a pacer for 38 miles. Ok, no way I am running 38
miles and no way I would run 38 miles and it not be a race for me. Anyhow, I
ride up to Kettle Moraine. As per usual with the mcy, I took a circuitous
route. I got to the Nordic Area and it was filled with cars, but a ghost town.
Unlike FANS24 the KM100 don’t run in tiny girlie man loops, such that a man
with binoculars could watch the entire race from anywhere on the lake. I
decided to take the MCY out to the Bluff road aid station. By this time it
might be 1:00p and I run in to confusion corner, maybe a mile.

KM100 Map

The little Y-intersection is confusion corner, and in addition to the orange trails there is a horse trail that passes through this intersection as well.

I was going to alert my club mate that I’d wait here until he went into the start of the second lap and came out, then pace him out to Rice lake and back (miles ~70-92). As I waited, a runner coming down the trail asks if I have water. I was wearing bright yellow running shorts and a bright yellow singlet. So I said to myself, “WTF, would I be carrying water you maroon?” He looks uncomfortable, so I run him into the aide station to make sure he gets to water ok. Then I ran back out to
confusion corner and continued my wait. About 30 minutes later two other guys come through. One is very concerned about the other and wants to know if I have water. About this time I remember, these idiots just ran 50 miles, they may be tired and not in their right mind. We all know there’s no maybe about it. The second runner is a relay guy, so I let him know I’ll take responsibility for
the suffering guy and excuse him to continue his race. I walked new guy into the aide station and made sure the official heard the first runners concerns. I’m pretty sure the ailing runners name was Eric, but since none of you were there, it’s what we’re gonna call him. Eric was fine, very mild dehydration and a banged up ankle. Running not only ruins your knees, but ankles are suspect too.  Crap, now I need another mile to get out to confusion corner again. On this pass, I see Christine Crawford. I kinda think that chick is a stud. I met her on a bike ride last year and she crushed me on the bike while telling me what a stud ultra-runner she was. Christine had a tough week, not unlike DB, with colds or viruses or whatever and was taking antibiotics from a pez dispenser most of the week. She looked rather good though and she’s just like that on race day. Task to be done and
she’s gonna do it. I wave and get back to confusion corner.

A while later, btw, I am concerned that I sat in the woods so long by myself that day, but that’s
another story. Anyhow, later comes down the hill another club mate who I did
not even know was entered, so I run him to the aide station to catch up and see
how he’s doing. He screwed up putting his drop bag in the wrong pile so he
couldn’t get his hydration pack and was relegated to using a hand-held. He said
he could not carry the thing a foot farther, apparently running 50 miles with a
2 pound weight wears on the arms. I take his bottle since he only has another 7
miles and he feels ok, plus there is one more aid station midway to the finish.
I ran his bottle to my mcy, and hustled back to confusion corner.

I am worried because my runner has not come through yet, then I get selfish. I start doing
math and at his current rate and waiting another 15 miles to then join him for 20 miles, that would be like about well forever til I could get on the bike and head to Minnesota. So I decide I’ll run the 15 miles to the start and back of round two (7.5 both ways) and then I can get on the bike. Well finally, he gets to me and I explain my plan, to wit he responds, Oh, I’m just doing the 100K.
What!?!? Ok, fine, well I’m all dressed up to run and have no place to go, so I decide to trek out to Rice Lake on my own. Secretly, I’m kinda happy, because as a pacer, I’d have had to run 11-12 minute miles and those don’t typically go well for me.

Ok, I go back to the mcy, stow my keys and head out on the trails. I was a tad harsh with my no place to go, this Kettle Moraine area is pretty cool for running. Well I head out and having stood around for 3 hours, I was a tad tight, oh, and I’m old and recently found out, I need to warm up to run now a days. The section I head out on has only had a couple relay teams head out onto it so it’s not going to be crowded. About 3 miles in I start to do the math that I did before and figure at 10 min miles, this will take 200 minutes (that assumes it was a 20 mile route, oops) and 200 minutes is well several hours and I started at 5:40p and given that the sun sets at sunset, it might be dark before I get back. You know, I shoulda brought the headlamp; oh well. Btw, water probably would have been a good idea too, you dolt! Well I head out and I’m managing mid-8 minute miles and it feels pretty good, then a few sub-8s snuck in. I was thinking that I could go 15 or 20 and was gonna play it be feel. Well at the 7 mile mark, I have passed all the relay teams, but one. I was feeling ok, and wanted to see what the rest of the course looked like so I forged on. It really was an enjoyable course to run on. As I was running I kept thinking about how these rocks were laughing at me, because while I was now still strong and it was light out, when I started weakening and it got dark, they were gonna bite me. Runners have the strangest inner dialogues. At about 10 miles I could tell that I was feeling under hydrated and was a tad tired, but well we’re at 10 and since this is the turn around point, too late. Wait a second, there’s no turn-around point here. Maybe it’s around the corner, nope. Well it turns out It’s 10.8 miles to Rice Lake from where I started. Well I get to the turn round and everyone cheers, then I remind them that I did not run 4 minute miles for the first 80 miles and therefore was not the race leader, but I’d enjoy a glass of water. They laughed and fawned over me to get me water. I will say this is typical for ultra aid stations, they treat competitor like rock stars. I felt bad because I was not entered and did not want to take from runners behind me who deserved and paid for the hospitality. So a cup of water and I was on my way. The run back was every bit as enjoyable as the way out, and I played games trying to recall what was around the next bend. I did find
out that I would be a terrible ultra runner, I could only muster the will power to walk up 3 hills. At mile 13 I pass through an aid station that was there on the way out, but now it’s starting to attract a lot of spectators, so again I remind them that I am not race leader, but I did see Eric, ailing guy from
earlier. He opted out at the 100K, probably a good call. But he saw I was thirsty and ran and got me two glasses of water. Karma is pretty cool, sometimes. So freshly hydrated I head out for the last 7-ish miles. At about mile 19.5 the rocks finally won. I didn’t lift my foot enough, the rock grabbed
it and “Down Goes PaulyGram!” But it was a cool fall. It was on a downhill section, I tucked pretty well, rolled across one hip on a rock and then the other hip. But then something awesome happened, the momentum brought me to one knee and one foot and I just took the next stride and away we go. I was reminded last night that a video of the fall would be great. Well I finish the run, get back to my mcy and set the directions for FANS into the GPS.

Somewhere in my mind I though Minneapolis was only another 3 hours away, oops. It’s just after 9p and I am on my way. No I didn’t skip telling you about the stretching I did before leaving, I just didn’t stretch, oops. Well I do the calculations and it looks like FANS is optimistically a 3:00a arrival time, but I need food first, so closer to 4:00a. First order of business, get off these forested roads while on the mcy; big safety concern running into animals on a mcy. Once I get to the highway, I start charging west northwest. About the time, I hit the Dells I realize I need food. I stop at a Denny’s, couldn’t find a 24 hour greasy spoon and I was off my range, so Denny’s had to suffice. I looked at the phone and Wrigley left a text so I could contact her when I got close and Willie mentioned she had to change plans for our morning run, but that DB was doing well and Don was, well more on that later. It took the entire breakfast to stop shivering. Once I got back out to the bike I opted for putting on the lower fairings and chaps for the rest of the ride. It was pretty eventless; at about Tomah, where the highway splits, it seemed to drop temps. This was the last noticeable time I felt a temp change.

Beer Me!

I arrived at Lake Nokomis just after 3:30a, I try to find WG, and by proxy, Don, DB and Mrs. DB. They are living La Vita Loco. Step one: I’m offered a beer. I love swamp rules. It way very good, it was the Surley that has been on the boards recently. At this point, I have no idea what DB nor
Don looks like so WG had to point them out. It took about 6 laps before we found Don and at that time I finally realized that Don’s support tent was not the same as DBs. Runners are stupid when sleep deprived and cold. WG gets me up to speed. Apparently, she ran, and I will remember that eventually. DB had a knee go wonky and he’s really just doing loops now and Don should be dead but somehow he was resurrected and is now reeling off laps fairly well. It’s neat seeing how this event runs and I encourage you all to watch or enter it someday; great people. Well the end time is going to be 8:00a and late in the 5 o’clock hour we start to see hints of light. By about 6:30, I’m too antsy and need to get a run in. I fear I am not well, this never used to happen. So I go
get on a pair of shorts and run a couple loops. By now it’s warm enough that I can stay in shorts and a sweat top. The race is closing in on the final hour.

The way this race works is that these buffoons are running ~2.4mi loops, but you only get credit for a full loop. If you are caught out on the course with 95% complete in a loop, but the gun goes off, you revert back to the prior lap. So once you feel you can no longer do full loops in the allotted time, you run “short” loops. These are 220yds out and back from the start finish line to the 220yd mark and its right through the area where all the support tents are. This is kinda cool, because everything is really starting to come alive again. There’s a great deal of activity and it’s impossible not to be engaged. So that’s it right? NO!!! with about 5 minutes to go, those still moving really start to move. Even DB ran the last few legs. The guy who won, probably ran a close to 30 second 220yd leg for his last dash. Please don’t forget that he just ran 14X miles in the past 23 hours 59 minutes and 30 seconds and now he’s busting out a 30 second 220? Sight to behold.

Just a Parade of Monkeys

...It all started... well I've told that story before; go look it up.

The first two Monkeys

Last year I qualified to run "THE" Boston Marathon. It took two tries and they were night and day. My first attempt was the CMM in Nashville. There is a race report somewhere around here to detail the events, but the short version is FAIL. The temperatures were 85 degrees before I finished and I'll say that being my first, I didn't correctly respect the distance. Now I felt confident I trained right for it, but it turns out I wasn't prepared for it. 15 days later I signed up for a local marathon solely because the weather was just what I had trained in. The forecast was cold, overcast and rainy, and race day was 37degrees and overcast the whole way. There was a brutal wind out of the north gusting from 20-30 miles too. But I felt that I had trained in this weather and I was better than Nashville demonstrated.

It turns out, runners are just sick. They tend to be hyper critical of themselves and often times unjustifiably to those outside their skin. It was my first marathon; unless you're an elite runner, you're really not supposed to be good at these on your first try, but I like to think I am better than the average bear.

Before Nashville, I actually talked myself into thinking I could BQ. For my infirmed age that required a 3:20 and I was probably in 3:05-10 shape. So my first monkey was the BQ Monkey. The events of the day in Nashville returned me a 3:32. Additionally, I resorted to walk running before I even hit the 20 mile mark. Now all of that was not being fully prepared, even though I had fully trained. With this result, I quickly paired up my BQ Monkey with an adorable little buddy, the Run the Whole Thing Monkey. I was kinda distraught that I had resorted to walking so early and moreso that I really never mustered enough fortitude to mount a running finish. As you can see you don't always stay married to your monkey.

How to Get Rid of a Monkey

As the story opened, you saw that I did qualify for Boston and it was at this make-up marathon. The weather was in my wheelhouse and I finished the entire marathon while running. I posted a 3:05:50 which was almost 15 minutes faster than needed for Boston. Well that killed two monkeys, end of story right? Oh so wrong!!! When you attain a goal, you're super elated. The endorphines are overwhelming; you're pretty sure you can leap tall buildings. Then about 5 minutes later you start thinking. What if...
...I didn't wear that second layer
...I didn't run 10 miles yesterday
...I didn't have to do a make-up marathon and would have been tapered and rested for this one
...I didn't have to run the last two miles uphill against a 20-30 m.p.h. wind

You don't know it while you're in "what if" mode, but you're manufacturing the next monkey. In my case it was the Sub-3 Monkey. Sub 3 is a fairly significant barrier for a marathoner. It's no 4 minute mile, but it's still big. Don't get me wrong; there are other significant milestones like finishing. Finishing should be theonly goal of a first time marathoner. And some people start their journey trying to break 3:30, 4:00 or in some case longer times. Now that I'd run 3:05 and change, could I be a sub 3 marathoner? In order to do all I could to become a sub 3 guy, I asked some of the faster local marathoners I knew how they trained. It turns out there is no one plan nor philosophy, but I did grasp on to the training of one guy in particular. He was doing high mileage (90+) and slower pace (nothing faster than 8:00/mile). In the months up to his marathon it was much of this and one 5K at 5:28/mile pace. I took this information and designed a plan around it. I was going to do high mileage, but I was also going to keep a more aggressive pace on my training. I was able to maintain my weekly distance from 75-90 miles for 4 months leading up to Boston. Boston would be my next chance to go sub 3. In addition, to this mileage, I got a few members to buy into some really town track workouts:

• 12x1 mile @ 5:40-6:00 pace
• 4-3-2-1 miles @ 6:10-5:30
• 5x2 miles @ 5:45-6:10

And our Thursday night runs were sometimes just as silly 6 mile temp on hillier streets with a 2 mile c/d. Some of the guys and I did a 4 mile w/u for these as well. Again they were agressive tempo runs. For each of these workouts that I created, I felt there was less than a 50/50 chance of surviving them. In the end, we always survived them. I was running 25-40 miles on the weekends. I was really going at this hard.

The Lead up to Boston

As the early spring progressed, mid-April was looming on the horizon, and I did everything possible to ensure a successful race for my first Boston. I'd run far, fast and over hills. My diet was very reasonable. I watched my sleeping habits. and 10 days out we get the first forecast. It's gonna be 60 and overcast. Now 60 is a tad hot, but well within reasonable. So now I am armed with great conditions and great training. I am starting to feel really stoked and I have announced publicily that I think 2:50 is within my realm. Privately and to a select few I even toy with 2:40. Heck the training indicated it was feasible. So a few days later I recheck the weather, maybe it will be cooler.

Uh uh! 70 degrees. Well the next 8 days just keep bringing worse news until the temps hit the mid to high 80s. Good grief! an entire training cycle down the tubes. Since this is my first Boston, I am going regardless. The expo is laced with warning about how we're doomed. The message from the BAA is strongly worded that only the fittest athletes should even attepmt to run this event. None of this bodes well for me. I typically fold in warm/hot weather. One guy in the club reminds me, "you are in the best shape of your life, the heat should affect you but fitter people should do better than the rest." This relieves me a bit and I decide to really just slow down my start and see what the race has for me. The race had nothing but doom for me. I ran the first 4 miles super easy and then felt good so I thought maybe I did train well enough to be immune to this heat. I start reeling of miles at my original target pace, then about mile 11 I realize that I am wilting. So I go to plan B: forget the 2:40-50 and just preserve a sub 3. You can do that just be holding 7:15-20 and that's a walk in the park for you. Well I got parked on, and walking became a reality. I had succumbed and being in the best condition of my life, I was blowing my sub 3 marathon. I tried to shut it down, but kept thinking this is Boston. I whimpered home with a 3:17. It was still a BQ for me, but I no longer cared about that monkey. My Sub-3 Monkey had trounced me.

I was dejected to say the least. Sure my supporters tried to placate me with it was a great time for the conditions. But I wasn't here for the conditions it was just a marathon and I wanted sub 3. What do I do now? Well last year I ran the Chicagoland Spring marathon. This time the Chicagoland Spring is too far out, what about Illinois, crap sold-out DOUBLE CRAP 40 degrees on race day. So why not find another small local marathon? That sounds great but what if the weather sucks there too? So I waited until the Wisconsin marathon was within 8 days and liked the temperatures so I pulled the trigger. My mindset here was that I was just making an investment in a great day, if the weather turned sacrafice the $80-90 whatever bucks and wait for Rockford or Chicagoland. If those don't work screw it get ready for your triathlon and the Masters Championships in August. Run a marathon next spring.

Well it turns out that Wisconsin's weather stay in great shap high of 60 with a 7:00 start and moderate chance of rain, aka. overcast. Heck I'm gonna toe the line. I went up with a younger guy in my running club who had done every bit of the crazy workouts I had and we were gonna be conservative. Everything to preserve the sub 3. We made a pact, nothing faster than 6:40 through 8 miles. My buddy is every bit the talent I am, but he's gunshy because his only marathon prior to this is last years Chicago and he blewup. I shared with him how different the weather was and the hell I put him through in training and explained these were totally different circumstances.

Ok, so we get ready and the obligatory 3-2-1 BANG! We're off. We really eased over the start line and both felt like we were jogging. I looked at my watch and there was some disbelief. I assumed the clouds must be playing with my GPS, because we were through the mile in 6:22 and not breathing. The next couple miles we deliberately backed off to 6:30s. By mile 5 I was back in the 20s and he was getting nervous, he begged off a bit and I proceeded on without him. Something good was happening this day. I went through 8 miles and we reach the northern turn around on the out and back. I'm just not breathing yet and still comfortable running low 30s. At this point a half marathoner is drafting off me and worse yet he'd clipping my heals. I grew annoyed and dropped another 10 seconds. for the next 4 miles I was sub 20s and still not breathing. I am not doing it intentionally, but I am passing a lot of fading halfers. We separate off and I find myself in no man's land. I think I am in about 8-10th place, but it's really 12th. The next person ahead of me is out of sight and I can see 3 city blocks. I think this was a help. I really just focused on looking at the corners and running to them. I'm ticking off miles in the teens and 20s. At 19.5 we hit the southern most point and we are right on lake Michigan. We travelled down about a block inland, but the whole way back was going to be right on the lake. Fek!!! a head wind. I started passing people here and moved up to 9th place. I was falling to mid 40s now, but still pulling away from those behind me so I am embolded by knowing I am strong this day; stronger than them and stronger than I thought I could be, but I am rolling towards the finish and I still may go sub 2:50. Those dreams pass by quickly as I just can't overcome this wind and drop back into the 30s. I remember crossing the finish line and being so elated. I had just defeated another monkey. I was no longer capable of running a sub 3, I had run a sub 3. It was just amazing for all three steps until I hit the lil guy passing out medals whereupon I started thinking, how could I have shaved off that last 1:25. Really? you can't just grit out an 18 minute 5K? Why couldn't you be sub 2:50? As I said earlier, runners are sick. About 4 minutes later my clubmate finishes. Seeing the joy and sense of accomplishment on his face was the greatest point of my running career. I saw him come to the realization of what he had just done and I felt I was a part of that. It took some of the sting out of the 1:25 I was in search of.

As we left the finish area to get our gear from check, I had cast aside that silly Sub-3 Monkey, sadly another weight rested upon my shoulders why not 2:50 and this new B@sturd had a buddy, if you can do 2:50 two weeks after Boston why not 2:40 on fresh legs. Later than night I looked up my age graded results and found yet another monkey, I was not yet a national caliber marathoner (80%).

So here I sit hours after accomplishing a goal I could not have conceived of 2 years ago and said never to 20+ years ago, and all I can do is carry around 3 new monkeys:

• Sub-2:50 Monkey
• Sub-2:50 Monkey
• 80% Monkey

Why can't we just relish a job well done?

Ternt I want another Monkey, The Harpeth Hills one, please <-- the sole reason I wrote this blog ;)

Circular reference

Since rejoining the running community in Oct '10, I have been running trails and roads. They are fun and ever ending. Well with the winter this year I was reminded that some folk run track, and worse yet indoors. My Alma Mater hosts one of these said events.

One of my old teammates of the kinder gender who I reconnected with since running said she ran one last year. So armed with this information I decided to see what these tired old legs could do.

Step one contact the current coach to verify it was an open event. His response, "you ran here when? "Did they have a track team back then?" Ok with that kind welcome over I asked if there were masters events and the reply was, "no we'll just seed you based upon time." So now I decided to sign up, but I have to put a seed time in. Well how the Fek do I figure out what my seed time is? I could use my last indoor mile, (4:08) but that was 20 years ago. Hmm, this summer the track club did a few mile repeats and I was 5:20 on those. That probably is no good either, it was run on a crushed gravel path and they were repeats, not all out. Ok, let's try to figure this out. Ummm....4:40 it is. And for the 800M, we'll use 2:15.

Now that I'm registered, I notice there is one other entrant in my two events. His times are 4:2x and 1:58. Oh crap, Ima get lapped in this thing. During the week both events fields fill out and my seed times are in the mix. I'm in the bottom 25% but I'm also old enough to be every other competitors father. I'm pretty sure in reality I am none of their fathers for those wondering. The whole time I am planning this soiree, I was under the impression it was a Saturday event, but about 2 weeks out I realize it's a Friday night run. Hmm, go to work then scramble south to the meet and run, Harumph.

The week of the meet I decide to taper a tad.

• Sat: 15+ miles between 7:00 and 6:33,
• Sun: 20 miles at 7:40s
• Mon: 3 mile morning run and 8 mile run at lunch
• Tue: Speed work I chose to do 10 x 200 just to see if the legs had speed. They were all between 30-32 and breathing was measured. I might be ready.
• Wed: easy 3 mile morning shake-out
• Thu: Tough run in the snow on the trail so there was a lot of lateral running.
• Fri: It's Race Day Fans!!!

So I show up at the old campus. Now when I left Lewis, we had a 90% ashphault outdoor track, and a handful of promises about how great they were going to build up the facilities. It turns out that only our class was lied too, because they eventually did build a very nice indoor track 4 lanes around and 6-8 on the straight away. They also have a beautiful new outdoor track that look Olympic in stature. After parking it took me a long time to walk around the building to find the entrance, but I made it. Once on the track I looked up and saw two banners that made me a tad proud. They had the National Qualifying team banners and right there at the top was 1988, Oh crap I was out of running for 2 yrs. longer than I had originally thought. But it was nice to be recognized as the first team to qualify for Nationals in cross-country. The next banner was the GLVC conference champs banner and again at the top (first team) was the 1988 team. I also found the top ten lists for the track events and my Steeplechase time from 1988 was still hanging on to 7th place.

Ok, enough of the trip down memory lane, I need to get ready. I find a spot at the end of the sprint straight-away and drop my bag. It was at the far end of teh arena, and I did get some curious stares and to paraphrase those stares, "How old is that guy?" or "Is that Moses other brother?" I settle in and get my shoes, socks and singlet laided out. There are 45 minutes to warm up before the sprints start. As I get dressed a gent walks over to introduce himself and asks, "What are you running tonight?" I respond, "The mile." It was comical how big his eyes got. He then felt obliged to ask, "How old are you?" He was again surprised by the answer. He mentioned something to the effect that usually old people can run that fast. I chuckled, but deep down hoped he was in my race. It turns out he was running the 3000, so there would be no duel this day.

He goes on his way and I get prepared to do a couple miles outside for a warm up. It was chilly that night. After the warm-up, I came back and checked in to get my hip number and lane assignment. I am really starting to feel the days of yore and the excitement of racing. Well we get called to the start line and I am in the 3rd position, there are 2 unattached runners inside me and 7 college runners. The unattached runners are only one year out of college. Turns out I am as well, since only last year I decided to go back and complete my degree. But they were only 1 year away from competing too.

The gun goes off and it's on. I have a lot of adrenaline and settle into third position. I am not able to keep on the leaders but I am only losing about 1 second per lap. I came through the 200 in 32, quarter in about 65, the half in 2:23 and then I started to soften. I was gasping for breath and was just now remembering, "You're old, you idiot!!!" Well in this quarter I finally get a challenge from one of the runners behind me. I think I slowed more than he passed but the net result is the same; he passed me. By the start of the 4th quarter he had about 20 yards on me. Well I know it's only a little suffering left so I decide to try and reel him in. While I did not catch him I did gain a tad and my last two laps were increasingly faster. I was optimistic with my seed time of 4:40, but I crossed the line in 4:58.7. At the age of 44 and a 1/2, I had just run an indoor mile in sub-5. I wanted something better, but I could be proud of this.

My college buddy Kevin, came down to watch, so I went up to chat with him. It was just about now that I realized how dry indoor try air is. I opened my mouth and formed words but no sound came out. I was so dry I couldn't get air through my passages. I mouthed, I'd be back and went to get some water. It would be about 4-5 hours before I truly recovered from the breathing. But the night is not over. I signed up for the 800M too. After the mile I did not do any of the necessary tasks. There was no cool down, no stretching I just wandered around the track. About 15 minutes before the half I decided to get a few blow-out sprints in. I was feeling something, but for now I was going to ignore it.

The start of the 800M was more daunting. Most of the guys in my heat had a much faster seed time. I lined up in the outside lanes and the gun sounded. I could feel the inside lanes making up ground on me and knew I'd have to step it up a bit to be able to fall in with them when the lanes merged. As we finished the first curve I settled into 5th place behind a solid group of guys jockeying for first. This lap was much faster than any I had run tonight, but I felt so loose. As we crossed the start/finish line the first time, I had A. run a sub-30 200 meters and B. felt that twinge that I felt during the warm-up. I decided I should pull up, and took the first opportunity not so as not to disrupt the runners behind me. The twinge was not a pull or strain, but this spring was all about Boston and I was not going to sacrifice that for a silly indoor half.

Well the racing was done for the night. I had a really good time and love that excitement that track offers. I did not do as well as anticipated, but I'll take it for a guy who's 44 and only 16 months back to running after a 20+ year break. I also know I can do better and next year they'll be a reconciliation.

For now it's back to training for the Boston Marathon. Can I go sub 3:00? Threaten a 2:51? Only the shadow knows.

Borderline too much...

OK, so Nov. 18th through Dec. 3rd got a wee bit out of hand. A couple months back I was at the Morton Arboretum which is the local hangout if you want to run hills. I was with a few runners in the club and we were plotting out our end of season events. I was talked into Hot Chocolate Chicago in early November and Tecumseh Trail Marathon in early December. This seems reasonable.

About a week later, I was goaded into running a trail race in Palatine, by a club member. He's a tad preachy about how none of the club members have the gumption to wander off of roads or the Prairie Path. I took his challenge and added an 8K trail run to the end of October, 10/29. In addition, I had not yet run a 5K since returning to running and that's the kind of race I am built for so I added the Roadrunner Challenge in early November, 11/12.

So that was three weekends in a row with races and it turns out I did OK at them. The first was the 8K trail run and I finished in 4th overall. This race is stacked with old farts, because despite being 4th overall, I was 3rd in the 40-45 age group. Old folks rock. The next weekend was the Hot Chocolate 15K and I was fine with finishing in under an hour. I was 6th in the AG and 82 out of something like 13,000 runners. That was a fair showing, but it was the first time this season that I did not bring home hardware. At my return to running last October this was not a concern, but as I kept excelling, my expectations grew too. The next weekend was a 5K and I won this overall, by more than 4 minutes, so it was basically a solo effort. I started feeling good about myself and had no real plans for Thanksgiving, so I started playing with the idea of a Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim run. Thanksgiving, because I had no plans, time that I needed away from work and a need to get away. After about 48 hours I pulled the trigger and booked hotel and airfare. Only then did I recall that I was committed to the trail marathon the following weekend. What evs, I was gonna run the canyon.

So I went down and ran the Grand Canyon, 48 miles in one day for my first ultra and it offers some hilly elevations along the way. It was the experience of a lifetime and you can read about it here and here. If you read it, you'll note that I struggled to recover quickly from the canyon; old folks were passing me in walkers. I took 4 days off running after that first ultra and then started back with modest runs on Tuesday and Wednesday the following week. On Thursday night, I was feeling better and ran with my running club, Glen Ellyn Runners. This was a great night, I set out with Todd, Tim and Jared. Todd was very curious about the R2R2R and we chatted while we ran. I was actually doing OK while talking and running low 7s. By the end of the run we were doing 6:40s and the overall was 6:55 pace. I was almost back to normal and just in time to run a freaking hilly trail marathon two days later.

So off to southern Indiana we go. The Tecumseh Trail marathon is known for being exceedingly tilty and having less than perfect traction. The night before the marathon we stayed in a club member's (Sherry) family home. Another clubmate, Francesca, made dinner. It was a boatload of pastas and full of YUM. The rest of us, Tara, Brian, John and myself, just sat back and shovelled in food while sharing great stories.

Race day started well; it was dry, no wind and mid 40s on the way to 50s. This is a point to point marathon so we had to drive to the finish to board a bus to the start. Our driver took two wrong turns, thankfully we had some veteran racers onboard. When we got to the start, I darted off to find some fresh forest real estate to unleash the mornings liquids. With that task done, I chose the warmth of the bus, rather than stand around outside.

When the race director called everyone to the start, I chose to wear compression shorts, a tech tee, a Swamp2K singlet with a lightweight outer shell. I also picked my Adios shoes over my PureConnects. They give me confidence. I had 5 Stinger honeys with me and no gloves. The start is a tad sophomoric; guy stands up, move his lips, but not loud enough to hear and then a horn goes off. It's On!

I was running this race without my Garmin. Those of you who read the R2R2R reports know why ;) I think I went out in 7:15-7:30 pace and that was a lot of adrenaline, but there were 6 guys that shot out even faster. I was told to expect about an hour slower than a road marathon, but was going to run solely on feel today. The race starts in one state park travels through it, some private land and into the other state park where it finishes. This race is highlighted by a lot of run up this hill, so that you can run down it. I doubt we have a level 100 yard segment the whole day. The net elevation is -300 feet so it's a downhill race; please note the tongue planted firmly in my cheek. I think the elevation is like 3500 feet up and 3800 feet down. After about 4 miles the adrenaline wears off and I start to assess how I feel. Surprisingly the assessment is pretty D@mn good. I am in like 15-17th place. and running comfortable to the point where I am not passing nor being passed. This is important, because most of the course is single track and you don't want to get stuck. Shortly after this I start hearing some young folk whooping it up. I'll soon learn that there are 8 kids from Wabash College running the race; 7 athletes and 1 coach. They are having a grand time and yapping up a storm. They are a TEAM; it's easy to see. They are floating up hills but my girth has me quickly catching back up on the downhills.

We keep this accordion pattern up through about mile 16. Don't ever look at mile 16 before committing to this race. It's a beast of a hill, on gravel, but this is nugget sized gravel so you can't even plant your feet levelly. The hill goes up about 600 yards at 12% grade. The it turns and goes up another 3-400 yards. I knew it was in my best interest to walk some of this hill. Blasting up it would only hurt me later in the day. The college kids got a good quarter mile on me here. Fortunately, one of them need a bio break and the rest waited for him so we hooked up again. At about mile 16 you start ascending some pretty steep stuff. So steep that they built switchbacks into the trail. Here I chose to walk one length and run two to conserve energy. This was the first time since the Wabash team that I had been passed today. But even this person walked a bit in this section. From here we're OK til about 18 where the last ugly switchback section is and I employ the same strategy. A few of the Wabash kids were falling back here and I started passing them again. I reminded them to run a few of the switchbacks just to keep the legs warm. At the top of this section it's runnable for a bit and I realize that I am really only able to keep a moderate pace so the younger guys start passing again. We stayed within about 1/4 mile through here as I would still gain downhill, but I was losing ground overall. At we passed through 20, I just decided to go low and slow to finish this day. I felt I was looking pretty good in the AG and was well ahead of what I had planned for. The last 6 miles are in The Yellowwood State Park and like the rest of the run it's quite beautiful. The race is well organized and they have a lot of aid stations towards the end of the race. I had been fine with water since the temps were low and was good about my calorie replacement so I was sore, but never felt like I was cramping. I will say, the hell I went through the week before made this run tolerable. I saw a deer in this section of the run and seeing it bound was disheartening as I felt the earth had a rubberband attached to me to prevent me getting off the ground. I catch up to the last two Wabash runners and their coach. I think he'd just twisted an ankle so he was in walk mode. I encouraged the other two to keep me company to the finish. We chatted about their season and how we were feeling and it really helped tick off a few miles. At about 1.5 miles to go the trail tilts up again; enough that I chose to walk. the guys stopped too and at the top we started back to trotting and they got all the way to run. I never really got back to run for the rest of the race. As I approached the last turn, I saw Francesca, she actually saw me, I was probably bleary eyed. Francesca had volunteered at the 9 mile aid station and was just now getting back to the finish area. It was a pleasant surprise. She cheered me on and I ran up through the chute. I forgot to look at the time, oops. About 10 feet further I was handed an award, 2nd in the 40-45 age group ;) Then some guy expected that I had the energy to lift my foot so he could take off the chip. He was wrong, there was some bending down in his future.

I was done. That was 75 miles of hilly trails in less than 10 days and I was a tad proud of the accomplishment. At the finish, there was warm soup, homemade. Also a number of sandwiches. The lady there had been up since 4 making everything. I think she said the name of her business was The Bread Lady. I was OK with soup and water at this point but the sandwich was too much bread for me at this point. Francesca found me and offered what ever she could to help me recoup. After a few minutes we walked to the car and I got some dry clothes on. I then started out of the finish area to cheer on others in the group. The next person I knew was Mike Theil. He had a heart valve surgery the year before and was deferring to this year. Yup, this guy X years my senior and one year out on heart surgery was about to finish this beast of a marathon in under 4 hours. You all should be impressed by that. As Mike passed I took a few steps to try and run him in, when I realized, "That ain't happening". I could walk, but no more than that. I then wandered back to the finish to greet mike and support him, He already had hot cocoa and a sandwich. I went and got a sandwich too. Mike was 3rd in his AG. We then stood around chatting and waiting for Brian Bottomly. He finished with a smirk and realized today was possibly harder than anticipated. I started getting a tad tight so Francesca and I decided that we'd wait for Sherry, Francesca's childhood friend and Rita, Mike's wife, then we'd take off for the house.

When we got back to the house, Francesca went out for a run and I took two beers out of the fridge. I was gonna walk one beer down the road and one beer back. It felt and tasted great. I then took a shower and got into some comfy pants. I was done for the day. We got a call that Tara had finished, but not John yet and he was past his expected time. The nature of this course causes it to be difficult for communicating up and down the course. A short while later we got the call that John was in. He's a very kind man and he'd passed a woman in her first marathon, who was only running it to honor a fallen soldier. John helped her complete that task. A+ John!!!

Overall Place: 21
Age Group Place: 2
Time: 3:37:57

Once we all got back to the house we had food and wine and merriment. I was feeling rather good for the strain that I'd put on my body over the last month or so. I turned in first as I was really tired. The following morning at about 6:00 I awoke. I couldn't sleep so I did what every person having just run a marathon would do. I ran 5 easy miles. It was still very dark there, but we were so far out in the country that I didn't fear traffic and it was very enjoyable to just plug away some 9 minute miles. The rest of that day was food, driving home and doing homework for school.

I had just closed out what I believe was a pretty good year for my return to running after the 20+ year hiatus.

I went from miserable 9:00 minute miles last October to Qualifying for New York and Boston, winning a road race overall and pulling hardware out of all but one event, and I did an Ultra. The only thing left is to get the rest of my 2000 miles in for the year.

...The Ultra part of the ultra

When last we left our vagabond hero, he had just taken his first misstep….

Part 1


So I had just crossed my first creek on the tops of many rocks and just a few steps on the other side caused me to step down on my left foot upon a rock that moved my left foot under the right side of my body. At this point, my center of gravity shifted hard to my left and I stumbled. I had stumbled a few steps and then was too far off kilter that I started falling to my left. I had bananas in that hand and the camera in the other so I just let myself fall. I’d fallen in a summer sault motion and actually knocked the back of my left shoulder on the rocks that lined the trail. As I fell, I heard something break, and I thought I just broke my camera. I quickly examined the camera and saw it was fine. Crisis averted!

About a quarter mile further I ticked off another mile and my watch beeped. I was curious as to the pace of the mile so I looked down and to my surprise, my trusted Garmin was shattered. My first reaction was the dollar sign lost, but I quickly realized that had it not been for the watch, I might be nursing a fractured wrist.

The next 10 minutes were filled with the adrenaline rush from the fall. During this time, I kept seeing a shine of water from the trail in my headlamp. To avoid blisters I kept avoiding these pools of liquid. Eventually, my luck had run out. I landed in a puddle. After a few more steps, I could sense an icky odor. The odor was the ammonium of mule urine. I splashed myself in it. This odor really lingered and it was awful. After another 10 minutes, I became desensitized to the odor. I was in another section of the trail were I was descending fast. The next section had a deafening rush of moving water and it sounded like it was moving fast, but I could not see it. The water got the best of my curiosity so I glanced left. My headlamp reflected off a rock face that was 20 feet away. So I must have been in a tight canyon with water rushing through. I stopped then wandered towards the rock face wall to see where the water was coming from. As I looked over the edge, the water was 30 feet below in this very narrow small canyon. It dawned on me that I was in danger on this trail. This was the first time that I sensed a fall could be traumatic.

This section finally gave way to a shallower grade and the glow of sunrise. It was becoming light out.  The next landmark is pipe beach. Pipe beach is my first navigation mistake. At every other point on the trail, the trail towards the outhouse was a short trail just to that house and back. So I followed the trail that did not go to the house and ended up on pipe beach at the Colorado River. This is not a bech as much as it is a collection of softball sized rocks on a shallow slop that meets the river. However, I lose any sight of anything that resembles a trail. I had assumed that I would follow this beach to the bridge across the river, but I was wrong, so I back tracked to the outhouse path and for the first time the trail passed by one of these structures and continued onward. About a half mile past this as you trace the river, I met a couple ladies. They were just as surprised to see me as I was them, They asked, “when did you start down?” I said “5:00a”. They were impressed and mentioned that I was making good time. I was emboldened and for the first time saw the silver bridge.

Video coming, sorry

This means I was about to cross over the river for the first time and head into Phantom Ranch. I soldiered on. There were 3 people already on the bridge when I started across. I assume they had camped at Phantom the night before and were just getting an early start on the days hiking. The bridge is narrow, and this became evident when passing another hiker it made me rub the side of the bridge and jarred my handheld bottle loose from my pack. Fortunately it made enough noise that I detected it and was able to pick it up. I had packed all my Cytomax in that bottle and losing that would have been bad. When you cross the bridge there is an old building right there constructed of piled stones. This is an animal shelter. You next cross another little bridge over the end of the bright angel creek. Now on your left you see the tent campers and at this point I can see without my headlamp. I saw this lil deer as well.

This may have been his dad up on the South Rim

It’s daytime. I’ve run about 8 miles and have not taken on any nutrition but a few sips of water, so I need to take on calories and arrange my supplies for the next section of the run. I run further into the camp and see a bench and a young lady crosses the trail headed to what I surmised was an outhouse. I start unpacking for a brief rest. I take off the hydration pack and the two long sleeve layers as well as my headlamp. When the lady comes back to tend to the animals, I ask her if she knew where I could find water and she directed me to a spigot. I filled up my water bottle and put some Cytomax in and topped off my hydration pack. I then tried to stash my extra supplies. I didn’t want to carry all the weight up to the north rim and back. After placing my cache by the building I started to get back into the hydration pack. At this point I saw the young lady watching what I just stowed away and the raven on the building’s roofline. Nothing good would come of this and she snickered. She chided me that the ravens were pretty clever. So I collected the supplies and ran deeper into the camp. I found a place near the last cabin and rewrapped the supplies in my long sleev tech shirt and started out the other side of Phantom Ranch. The next section Is the box. This area is noted by its narrow canyon with steep walls and several bridges that crossed back and forth across the Bright Angel Creek. This is a rather enjoyable stretch of the trail and has some undulating hills. The creek is always near you. About two miles out of Phantom I see a runner coming at me. This young lad is coming fast. I would guess he was running 7:30s. We raise a hand at one another as we pass. I’m betting we was attempting a fastest known time (FKT). Soon after this I turned a corner and was confronted with a bright red wall in the distance. The canyon amazes you at every new view. Shortly after this you see a long skinny fall on your left across the creek.

This is Ribbon Falls and it’s as beautiful as anything else I have seen so far today. 7 miles out of Phantom, you reach Cottonwood camp. This is a small site with no permanent structures, but it does have a pen for livestock. As I pass through a camper hails me. He asks if I saw a young guy running the other way, I said yes and he tells me the guy is running from rim to rim and back. I then let him know I was too. At this point I realized that the guy I passed was at mile 40 while I was at mile 10 so how early did he start?

One of the bridges in the Box area

So out of Cottonwood as quickly as I entered. I was now thinking that I was 14 miles on my own before seeing civilization again, since the north rim is 7 miles away. At this point you are still making your way up the Bright Angel Canyon and steadily climbing. The next landmark is a bridge that crosses the creek and brings you to the last ranger station. This is a nice house, the one that has the basketball hoop. It has a nice view of the creek and the ranger has a well groomed garden as well. I saw a few people resting here and we waved as I passed by. Now the trail seems to really tilt upward and I am running out of steam. Most ultra runners warned me to walk as many hills as possible so I started to adopt this plan. Even when I was in hike mode I was swiftly passing other hikers. Thankfully, I was wrong about not seeing others on the way to the north rim. Soon you start to hear a thunderous noise and this is roaring springs. Roaring Springs supplies all the water to the park and several local business partners of the park. As you journey up the hill you see the falls of the springs in full view. As you head up here you are running on some cliffs that you really notice at this point. The trail is hewn from the walls here to allow for the trail to pass. You keep rising through this section hoping for the Supai tunnel to jump out. This is because the tunnel denotes you are only 2 miles from the north rim. I am starting to suffer through this region, I am going through water too fast, my legs are tired and the air is getting thinner. Then it happened, the tunnel appears. I am close. But I am now in full walk mode. The hill is too steep and I fear I don’t have enough water to really exert myself. This two miles is just L-O-N-G. I pass by the Ochocino overlook. The surroundings are now woods but as I look up I still have 100 feet to rise. Is the rim rising as I move? There is noticeable snow and packed ice as well but it’s small patches on the trail. And finally, the north rim is my next step.

When you read about R2R2R you’ll constantly hear that the north rim is closed after October 15. Additionally, there is no water. When I peaked out, I was surprised to hear motor vehicles. The road was plowed and several cars had passed by. The water station here has a sign stating that water is available at the backcountry office. Sadly, I don’t know where that is, but I am thirsty. I head down the road about a mile and see no buildings. I start to fear that I can’t get lost over here so I head back to the trailhead. I have water treatment pills and figure I can dip a bottle in Bright Angel Creek to get water so I head back for the south rim. On the way up and having fallen so oft on Mt. Charleston I told myself to walk the ice patches. For the first few I did, but then I got brave. Who knows what happened next? Yep, I fell. It was a full on Fosbury flop and had me land crushingly on a rock that took a shark bite out of my forearm.

So I got up and dusted off the shame of the fall to continue down the hill, I was running again, but because I can’t pace myself I run too fast I was under 8 minutes for several miles and knew this would be bad, but couldn’t stop myself.

I passed the Supai tunnel in 1/3 of the time it took to rise from it to the north rim. I am now looked at the box end of the canyon that bright angel kicks you out of to reach the top. Now we’re just reversing ourselves, but you start to notice something this direction. There is a bridge you crossed before the Supai tunnel. On the way back you see this bridge for a long time switching back and forth and only coming inches closer with each pass. The same phenomenon occurs later with that northern most ranger station. His roof had a helipad and it’s noticeable as you look into the canyon below, but again it just taunts you because it’s about 2.5 running miles away. This is very deceiving because your mind is try to convince itself that you’re only 200 yards away until it then tries to determine how am I going to get down that far in just 200 yards? During this section you are in earshot of roaring springs and every once in a while get a good view of it. When I finally got to the station I decided to stop and look for water. He has a bench and prior race reports said that he sometimes puts out lemonade. There was a box on a bench and I was fully out of water so I hoped it was refreshments. However, it was just a box of chalk for travelers to make a claim on the chalkboard. I wrote my name and looked to see if there was a way to safely get to the creek to dip in. There was no way I felt comfortable with, so I moved on. The trail is very runnable again because we’ve descended off the wall, but I am getting more wary without water and don’t want to push it. It’s 4-5 miles to Cottonwood. Fortunately, the trail crosses the creek in this section at grade so I did dip my bottle and drop a tablet in. I then checked my watch because I had to wait 15 minutes to allow the tablets to take effect. I felt better now because water was coming. I passed a family here and the husband mentioned to his wife that I was probably do a rim to rim and then he asked me and I confirmed. He was not impressed but the wife was. I am seeing more hikers and assume they are just wandering out from the campgrounds since the north rim would be a strange objective this time of year. You get another view of Ribbon Falls just before you enter Cottonwood. In Cottonwood I was hoping there would still be campers there with potable water.

Looking south from about Cottonwood

Sadly, everyone had broken camp and I was low on water again so I looked for another place to dip the bottle. I didn’t look that hard because I knew Phantom was only 7 miles away. What I forgot was that I has already run 30+ miles and just 7 miles was not “just”. I was foolish and would have been better served to find water. I kept conning myself that even if I did dip, I would be back in Phantom by the time it was treated, but I was very wrong.

When I finally got back to the box I was in the walk any rises mode. I was too tired to run up even small hills without water and my feet are really getting sore now. I am starting to dream about just soaking my feet in the creek at Phantom. I pass a mother – daughter in the box and see they only have a water bottle between them, so I assume Phantom is close. I asked them how far and they said 30-45 minutes, but if I can run walk it should be much shorter, so I try to mount a head of steam again and trudge forward. I got into Phantom at 9 hours 30 minutes. At this point Rick’s watch battery went dead.

I was relieved to be back at the ranch and went to my cache that I’d stored earlier that morning. It turns out the raven found the bananas, Booo! However the rest of the food was intact. I am really suffering at this point. My legs are putty. I am dehydrated and I am hungry. I head over to the ranch store. This place is really packed. There are 4 long tables in here and three are fully loaded and there are 10 people in line. I first think I’ll grab a seat and rest while the line works its way through. The flaw in this plan was that each customer must have been applying for a mortgage; then line was not moving. The folks at the store have a water container inside with cups so I drink 2-3 cups while sitting and standing in line. The cashier is a chatty fellow and reminds me of Deputy Droop Along from Quick Draw McGraw. He was kind enough, but there was no fire in his belly. When it became my turn I ordered the lemonade. What a treat this is. It'ss sweet and tart and hits the spot. I then head outside and figure out what I can eat and tried the jerky. Fail, jerky is just too hard to eat for the return so I scrapped that. I did eat 6” of slim jim, half a pouch of tuna. I ate two cheese and peanut butter crackers but that was too dry as well. My next task is to refill the water. I drink a full Cytomax while there and prepare another for the last push up the hill.

While I was at the ranch, I saw a group of younger adults who all had full body suits on and was not sure why. Outside I overheard their conversation and they had come by water. I was finally restored enough to chat and started talking with them. They had come in by kayak, several of them. They were on a 13 day tour and the reason they were doing it in 13 days was that kayaks can’t hold as many supplies. Apparently, the raft travelers can go 30 days on the river. My first thought was who gets 30 days off?  This group put in at Lee’s Ferry. This is just below the Glen Canyon Dam, and I had been there before when I visited the north rim. They were going down stream until they got to Lake Mead. I also learned that at the start one of the guys kayaks was 250 pounds. And these kayaks had to be pulled fully from the water each night that camped. This was to avoid a rising river from sweeping the kayak and supplies away.

I stayed in the ranch for 45 minutes and was feeling very recovered. The best thing I did all day was stashing a dry pair of socks here. The change of socks was very rejuvenating. After the rest, I started the jog out of the ranch. At this point, I figure I am over 40 miles and this makes me an Ultra runner. It also makes me tired. At the end of the ranch I cross back over the bridge.

I am contemplating going up South Kaibab, because I want out as soon as possible, and while it’s steeper the shorter length is appealing. Then I start calculating and feel that I’ll still be really close to dark going up that way and then I have to catch a shuttle back to bright angel and I don’t know how late that runs. Plus my mind is not doing math well and I think I have a Chicagolander who will call a search and rescue team if I am not out within 2 hours, and I don’t want the $4000 bill. See how your brain turns to mush when you run too much. I stick with Bright Angel. After crossing the bridge I am seeing new sights that were masked by darkness earlier in the day. There are a couple neat sandy beaches and soon I come upon Pipe Beach for the second time and turn into the canyon wall away from the river. I think this was the last I saw of river for this trip. As I ascend out of the inner gorge I am still seeing new sites. I also am amazed that I actually survived the descent in the dark, there is some ugly footing and severe drop-offs in this area. I don’t know the name of the creek in this section, but it’s the one I poked my head over that morning. I didn’t recall as many switchbacks on the way down, but again the darkness probably messed with my bearings. I passed the creek that claimed my Garmin earlier; there was no remorse from the rocky trail siding. As I passed Indian Gardens for the second time I was still running more than walking but I was running out of steam. The new socks could only overcome so much of a 40+ mile effort.  I really wish I was not feeling so decimated, because this section of the trail is really runnable and your seeing open land as you cross through the Tonto Plateau. I meet a few hikers down here still, but they are scarce as they should be. If you are down here at this point, you are not going to walk to the rim before darkfall. As I transition out of the relative flatness of the plateau onto the final cliff wall to make the final ascent, I am running on empty and ruing the day. The experience has been awesome, but the body is so very tired at this point. I pass the 3 mile house and try to guesstimate the finish time it should be 1 hour if I can just walk at 20 minute miles (3mph). Sadly I have no working watches anymore so I can’t track progress. I am relegated to hiking. Even in hike mode I am passing everyone, but my goal isn’t to beat them it’s to get out of this canyon.

Darkness finally falls at about the 1.5 mile house and I don the headlamp again. I really thought I was done with this when I crossed the Colorado the first time today, but the canyon has exacted a toll on this first timer. I am really envious of the blue shirt that ran past me 7 hours earlier as I knew he was already sipping beer and telling stories of a great canyon day. The tunnels that I should be seeing are just eluding me and I hunch over every couple switchbacks just to rest. I sadly know this is not getting me closer to the rim, and I can't really make out the lights of rim buildings so I am in a miserable place mentally. I come to the first tunnel and it lifts my spirits a tad. I then try to occupy my mind waiting for the second tunnel at it too comes and goes. After this tunnel, I was happy to see it was only one more switchback to crest the south rim. The Last Step; ahhhh.

Oh wait, it’s not over I need to touch the sign and get back to the car. I don’t want to make this extra 50 yard walk, but I must. I pull the keys from my pack and chirp the lock. Amazingly, the car is just in front of me, woot! I could walk around a 1.5 foot tall stone wall to get to it or just climb that wall. I went for the beeline. Then at the wall realized, I could not raise my foot the required 1.5 feet. I am stuck just a few feet from the car. So I sit down on the wall, carry my legs over set them down and I am at the car. I quickly, quickly is relative now, take of the hydration pack and the sensation is heaven, nothing weighing on my shoulders for the first time in 13 ¼ hours. The last 30 minutes of the hike was in the dark and I was just wearing the tech tee, so I got very chilled. At the car, I fumbled to get the phone out and tickle the keys to alert the same people that chose to worry about me that the worrying was over. The messages were short and I started the car seeking warmth. I did not have the energy to change into the clothes that I laid out on the back seat. I navigated out of the park and started down route 64 towards the interstate. I had to get back to Vegas tonight. As I passed the little town where my hotel was I stopped at Wendy’s to get two burgers and a soda. It went down well. I had to choose a drive through as I felt I could not get out of this seat for some time. At Williams, where the Interstate meet 64, I filled up the tank. I then pointed the car at Vegas set the cruise at max speed and shot out. It was an ok ride, I was tired and my eyes were playing tricks on me, but I soldiered on. As I crossed back into Nevada, I felt I was being dangerous so I pulled off into a casino parking lot and took a 30 minute nap. This rest was enough to get me back to the hotel. I walked through barefoot and was going to ignore anyone who has a concern with it. I dove into bed and fell fast asleep.

The next day I woke up. That was a good start. I next pushed my legs over the side of the bed and they were not happy. Their mood did not improve when I applied weight to them. I shuffled to the shower and stood in the hot water for 30 minutes. Now I needed food. Turns out Vegas has plenty of ways to feed you so I hit the buffet. I scarfed down quite a bit then decided I needed to start the healing process. I was gonna walk the strip today and take in the architecture. It was Thanksgiving. I shuffled along looking like the 2000 year old man. In Vegas they now have pedways over most intersections. So you take the escalator up, walk across and take the escalator down. On occasion, the down escalator would be broken. It must’ve been a sight to watch me descend these stairs. I had two hands on the rail with all my weight and old ladies with walkers and canes were passing me. They gave me dirty looks. The rest of the day preceded much the same.

The next day was check-out and travel day. So I loaded up the car and checked out. Today, I wanted to find a poker table and just putter around until it was time to get to the airport. I decided on the Venetian since it had the largest room and most players. On the way I stopped in Casino Royale, they are known for cheap craps tables with 20x odds and played about 45 minutes increasing my bank roll from $100 to $400. Craps is a short run game so at this point I cash out there and head for poker. At the poker table, I am really just here to relax and enjoy a few beverages, but to my surprise I find a really soft table. That coupled with some good hands at the start and I went from my $200 buy-in to $350 very quickly, at this point I thought I might lock it down, but a few guys start picking on my blinds and I am waking up with hands. Within a 5 minute stretch there were two different guys that sat down with $100 and immediately dumped their entire stack to me. So now my stack is hovering between $6-700. I decided I was gonna head to the airport at 2:00p to catch the flight home, and was disappointed when my alarm went off, because I felt I could beat this table all day. So I head to the airport and noticed at check-in that the flight was delayed. Drat!!! I could have stayed at the poker table longer.

Well since I have no driving duties for about 6 hours, I mosey up to the bar and get me a tall, cold beer. Shortly after that a couple headed to Chicago come in; they are in the same predicament. We chat about how the time in Vegas went and how it sucks to get delayed, then we try to figure out if we can get bumped and do one more day. It was a very enjoyable couple hours. Then it turns out that we were all seated next to one another. As an added bonus I had the only empty seat on the plane next to me. We all order a round of beer, chat and fall asleep. The O’Hare landing and car retrieval was uneventful and I bee-lined for home and went to bed. Time to dream another dream.

What did I learn:

• Bring more light or start at sunrise. I think much of the suffering could be attributed to coming down the first hill too slow and pounding on my quads. I traveled slow, because I didn't have the light to be confident.
• I had too much food, and did not trail test the jerky or crackers. So the Slim Jim and banana were a good call.
• No need to bring a camera next time, but I liked having it for the first trip.
• Stop and eat more frequently. I tried to be too efficient and only stop when there was a camp. For instance I should have peeled layers sooner in the day. A shot block or two coming down the hill would have been a good idea. But really I think you need to stop and fix what you need to as soon as possible and not wait. Even though it’s a PITA to unpack and repack, it would be better in the long run, and this is a long run.

What did I do right:

• I chose to cross the Grand Canyon
• I brought dry socks

 In the end, I survived. I still maintain that I am not an Ultrarunner, but I did cover the distance. I am very glad I did this solo, because I feel it was an acheivement, but I'd entertain this again with a group. I definately want to do a 4-5 day hike through here some day.

Hope you enjoyed and if not, read something else.

Total mileage 48
Total Time 13 1/4 hours