Running The Sahara Movie Review

If this 3-min. trailer doesn’t captivate you, read no further… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HidKMFClQUU  I watched this movie several times on a flight from San Francisco to Dubai on my way to Banaglore.  It made the 15-hr. flight somewhat bearable but it also kept me awake when I should have been sleeping as I was mesmerized by the story.  I had heard about these three nutcases who decided to do this on something of a whim in the winter of 2006. 

American Charlie Engle is well known in running circles for having completed some of the longest runs ever after a life of serious drug and alcohol addiction. Ray Zahab from Canada is a former smoker and drinker.  Kevin Lin from Taiwan was really the only real elite athlete, capable of running under 2:20 for a marthon.  The three of them had raced together before, but they decided to run the Sahara simply because nobody had ever done it.

Narrated and executive-produced by Matt Damon, the team called this an expedition, not  a run, and the original goal was just to get one of them to actually finish.  Starting on the coast of Senegal, the course took them 4,300 miles through Mauritania, Mali, Niger, Libya and Egypt, finally finishing at the Red Sea.

Running The Sahara, photo By Don Holtz

It’s impossible to chronicle a 111-day journey in a single documentary film.  But it does a great job of capturing the thoughts and emotions of three distinctly different men, their loved ones, and their support crew. I found myself sometimes wondering what happened in those 4 – 5 day stretches that weren’t covered in the movie.  Were they just mundane, uneventful days of running 2 marathons a day, day after day after day?  Sort of makes those guys who run a marathon a day for 50 days look like they’re just getting started, huh?  These guys actually got to a point where they were comfortable running 50 miles a day…after already completing 3,000 miles!  The mental fortitude it must take to continue under incredible circumstances and challenges is difficult to comprehend.  Sandstorms, death threats, baseball size blisters, sleep deprivation, significant weight loss, illness, exhaustion.  Good grief.

What takes the whole expedition to another level is the cause that was spawned as a result of the effort.  In partnership with Matt Damon, the Sahara runners started the H2O Africa Foundation to bring attention to the water crisis in Africa and gather support for clean water programs in critical areas, including communities along the Running the Sahara route. I love stories like this, where it’s not just about three madmen hoofing it across the biggest sandbox in the world.  This is real inspiration.

Training for Ironman…in India

Today I watched the 2009 Kona Ironman World Championships on TV as I have so many times before and was inspired by the trials and tribulations, the many incredible stories of pros and age groupers alike who made it to Kona this year.  I also had a few friends who either qualified or won a lottery spot, but honestly, I couldn’t relate to their experiences and stories.  I also couldn’t relate to Chrissie Wellington’s unbelievable 3-peat performance or Craig Alexander’s win.  I’m sure the pros have their share of challenges and defeats, but I needed to see the struggle of the guy more like me, and watching the Kona event was exactly what I needed as I started my ironman training this month for IM Couer d’Alene next June.  I’m going to be doing most of my training while traveling extensively on business overseas, and much of that will be in Bangalore, India.  I’m determined not to let a globe-trotting schedule or the limitations of training in India stop me.

 

I’m having my Trek 5200 road bike re-built to the exact fit of my tri bike (as close as possible, anyway) and shipping it to Bangalore with my trainer at the beginning of January.  When I’m home in California I’ll ride outdoors on my tri bike, but I’ll be spinning in my hotel room at the Leela Palace.  They have an unheated 27-meter pool which stays at a comfortable temperature to train. 

Traffic in Bangalore...where am I supposed to run?

Running is impossible outdoors.  The streets of Bangalore are at 600% capacity so I’ll have to do what I can on a treadmill at the hotel gym.

 

I raced my local sprint triathlon in Morgan Hill this year with 2007 Kona champion Chris McCormack and Chris Lieto.  I saw them racing to the finish as I started my bike that day.  I know it was only a sprint, but they were running at 5:39 pace having a conversation.  So it was sobering to watch both of them walking the marathon at Kona even as  Lieto finished in 2nd place, McCormack in 4th.

 

I was particularly interested in the story of 19 yr.-old Rudy Garcia-Tolson, a double amputee.  Rudy was born with rare, multiple birth defects – a combination of crippling Pterygium Syndrome, a clubfoot, webbed fingers on both hands, and a cleft lip and palate. His legs would not straighten from the knee and he was forced to crawl or push himself in a wheelchair, so he chose to have them amputated when he was only five years old.  He missed the bike cutoff in Kona by just five minutes.  He was committed to finishing an ironman, so he called Muddy Waters, my coach, and came to my local bike two blocks from my home to train for IM Arizona.  They built a whole new bike for him and I watched Rudy spin on the CompuTrainer.  Last month he finished IM Arizona.

 

Navy Commander David Haas did his training for Kona on a Navy frigate with a CopmuTrainer, treadmill, rowing maching, and VersaClimber.  Haas would often ride his CompuTrainer on the bridge so that he was accessible in case anything came up.  Once every two weeks he’d jump off the side of the ship into the 105 degree water and swim around the ship with a couple of search and rescue members to keep him company.  Lieutenant Commander Don Cross trained in a submarine!  He had to do it while making no noise, and submarine life is organized around an 18-hour-day, so there’s even less time to train.  His daily routine was on watch for 6 hours, 6 hours of maintenance and training, then 6 hours of time to himself where he’d get a couple of hours of training and four hours of sleep.

 

57-yr. old Elizabeth Thompson suffered a stroke two years ago, leaving her unable to walk.  She finished at Kona.  Lots of great athletes did not finish.  I wonder if I’ll be one of them.  I’m still not entirely sure why I want the Ironman.  I don’t think I’ll ever climb Mt. Everest.  Ironman still seems to be the biggest challenge of all, and I just watch the images of people crossing the finish and see the euphoria painted across their faces.  I don’t care about the lifetime bragging rights people talk about. I want this one for myself.  And if some of these people can overcome the obstacles they had in front of them, I know I can do it.

2009 Year In Review

2009 was a nearly perfect year for me, and I am very grateful for it.  I had set some lofty goals:

1.  PR at all distances, all events (swim, bike, run, tri)

2.  Complete the Transrockies Run

3.  Qualify for the Boston Marathon

4.  Register for a 2010 ironman

5.  Become a RRCA certiifed running coach

 

Due to the poor economy, I had decided to enter fewer races than 2008, but then 24 events would be difficult to repeat anyway.  I replaced quantity (experience) for quality (performance), entering a more reasonable 15 races and setting 9 PRs in the process.  The thought of saving money this year was a nice idea but after spending more than $3000 for the Transrockies Run, I knew frugality was no more than a good intention, and my wife wasn’t buying it.  I took comfort in knowing I had PR’d at the 10-mile, half marathon, marathon, 5K, 50K, one-hour swim, half ironman, one mile swim, and my local sprint triathlon.  The only remaining distance I really would have liked to PR in is the 10K, but due to my race schedule, I never really trained for a 10K PR and never even raced it once all year.  The only goal I missed was my BQ and I didn’t take it very well.  I was so well trained for it and suffered from the effects of statin drugs I take to keep my cholesterol in check.

 

 The Transrockies Run was easily the biggest highlight.  I’m sure I’ll continue to look back at that experience over the years with fond memories.  I think it also changed my perspective on running and racing.  I know I’ll always be extremely competitive, but you can’t spend nine days in the Rocky Mountains for the sole purpose of running a foot race and not be shaped by the experience.  My world of training, running, and racing got bigger this year.  It only left me wanting more.  The Trans-Alpine Run is now firmly planted in my head and I’m not sure how I’ll ever pull it off.

 

I’m really glad I decided to use the Transrockies Run as a fund-raising event.  Just weeks before the event, I decided to see how much money I could raise for the National MS Society in honor of my youngest sister who suffers from the disease.  I was amazed to raise nearly $10,000.  I don’t know if that’s a lot or a little, but it gave my sister an incredible emotional lift, made my effort and the event so much more satisfying, and inspired me to do more.

 

Looking ahead, my world is about to change in a big way.  I’m taking a new job at my company that will result in tons of travel all over the world, especially Asia.  It will have a huge impact on my training schedule.  I’m prepared to employ some creative training methods, including leaving a tri bike and trainer in Bangalore, India so I can train when I am there.  But I’m worried all the extra work and intense travel schedule will keep me from performing at a high level.  I’m registered for Ironman Couer d’Alene in June and intend to do it.  I’m also concerned about the time away from my family, but we have decided to bite the bullet for a year or two.  There’s no way I’m going to travel like a madman once my daughter starts high school in 2011.

 

I capped off the year by completing my final goal, becoming a RRCA certified running coach.  I’m not sure where it will take me.  I have images of coaching legions of runners in India, but for now, I’m just happy to have the extra foundation of knowlegde.  I’m prepared to embrace whatever 2010 brings me.  Somehow, setting nine PRs again seems a bit unlikely, but it promises to be another exciting year.

RRCA Certified Running Coach

Last month, a few of my running mates and I took a 2-day class in San Jose, CA to become certified running coaches through the Road Running Club of America (RRCA).  Our motivations for becoming certified were all very different, and as I discovered, not everyone who takes the class is even interested in coaching.  Some people just want to expand their knowledge base, and there’s nothing wrong with that.  For me, I’ve been day dreaming about drop kicking the corporate job most of my adult life to pursue my real passions that generate zero income.  But since I’ve never been a gifted athlete, maybe teaching others what I’ve learned over the last 32 years of running might be one way to give back to a sport that has given me so much.

The RRCA course has been taught for over 20 years by Patti and Warren Finke who split their time between Portland, Oregon and Kailua-Kona, Hawaii.  They are both decorated runners.  My own coach, Andy Froumis, thought he might be the most experienced runner attending the class with me after surpassing 100,000 miles earlier this year.  We quickly learned Warren has run 140,000 miles, including a few years when he ran over 6,000 miles a year.  Warren is an instructor for the RRCA coaching certification program.  He has been coaching beginning to elite road and trail runners for more than 25 years. He has competed in over 170 marathons and ultramarathons, winning more than 20.  He is two-time U.S. track record holder for 100km and was the 2nd place veterans finisher in the 1992 Boston Marathon.  Patti is an exercise physiologist and current chairperson of the RRCA coaching committee. Patti has been coaching runners and walkers for over 25 years and has held individual U.S. age records for 50km and 50mi and has three times been Oregon Road Runners Club Age group runner of the year.   They are the founders and directors of the Portland Marathon Training Clinic and authors of Marathoning, Start To Finish.  OK, so I figured I could learn a thing or two from these people.

Due to Patti’s background in exercise physiology, the first 2 – 3 hours of Day 1 was a blur of sports science, physiology, biology, and a few other subjects I struggled with in high school.  I quickly realized it wasn’t so important to understand every single detail.  The idea is to learn their proven system, which is well documented in their class material.  Patti and Warren are the first to admit students may not agree with their system or may prefer other coaching methods, but the test is based on their system, so you had better learn it.  if you don’t score at least 80% on the test you need to take the whole class over and that would be a serious bummer.  I was happy to learn one entire training system even though some things certainly sounded different than anything I had ever known.  And that’s why they’re the instructors.

The first day is intense; you need to pay attention.  They cover a lot of ground and move fast.  Think 10K pace but it lasts all day.  The second day is dedicated to creating real training plans.  It’s the hands on piece and they put you on the spot.  The exam is 100 questions in an online test.  It’s open book and they encourage everyone to take the test with someone else in the class so you can discuss the answers.  Four of us from my running club studied together and I passed the test with a 90% score.  Wish I knew which 10 I got wrong.

The final requirement is CPR and first aid certification.  I took a full day course at the Red Cross.  Can’t believe it’s taken me this long to learn CPR and I’m glad I finally did it.  My very knowledgable instructor was retired Navy.  Let’s just say he kept my attention.  I learned how to treat a choking infant, administer full CPR on an unconcious adult, use an AED (the “paddles”), and treat various injuries.  I actually now feel like I could respond in an emergency situation and know what to do.

I highly recommend the RRCA class if you’re interested in coaching runners. If the class is not offered in your area, they’re willling to come to you.  They just need a local host who will take care of planning and logistics.  The class I took wasn’t offered in San Jose until one of my friends took it upon herself to organize it.  Patti and Warren explained they will also be offering an advanced coaching class soon.

So, I am now a certified running coach.  I’m fully aware that simply having a certification does not make a good coach.  Any kind of coaching is half science, half art, and all people skills.  I was surprised with how little running experience some of the students had in my class.  I felt confident I could properly coach a beginner or advanced runner before I took the course,  but it’s nice to have a proper set of core principles as a foundation.  Patti and Warren said if you only buy one book on running, get a copy of Lore of Running, by Dr. Tim Noakes.  My mother-in-law gave it to me for my birthday earlier this month.  It’s a whopping 804 pages and would keep an RV from rolling downhill.  There is always more to learn.

Thoughts About Running Injuries

If you’re looking for a resouce on how to cure a nagging running injury, this is not it.  For a great resource on learning how run injury-free, pick up a copy of Running Strong & Injury-Free, by Janet Hamilton.  You’ll learn there are five main causes of running injuries–training errors, inappropriate footwear, inadequate flexibility, inadequate strength, and poor biomechanics.  The trick of course, is learning how to train while preventing injuries.  Triathlon is the best thing I’ve ever done to prevent running injuries.  The cross-training helps prevent overuse and repetitive use injuries.

Most Common
I’ve had plantar faciitis and it sucks.  It feels like the bottom of your foot is being ripped off.  It’s one of those injuries you can try to run through until it cripples you.  If you don’t recognize it, you’ll easily spend lots of time and money with a battery of doctors, podiatrists, accupuncturists, chiropractors, and other gurus.  My physical therapist used massage, ultrasound, stretching, heat/ice, and then taped my foot in a manner I would never be able to do myself.  Then after an extended break from running, I started with a 2-mile run and added a 1/4-mile each day until I was back to my normal training regimen.  I bought a calf stretching device which I should really use more often.

Runner’s Knee is very common.  I’ve had it on and off this year.  When my PT diagnosed it as patellar tendinitis–the technical term–I figured it was the result of running 60 – 100 miles a week on trails.  Knee injuries comprise about 55% of all sports injuries and approximately one-fourth of all problems treated by orthopedic surgeons.  A bad knee convinces lots of couch potatoes to stay on the couch.  Don’t do that. 

I haven’t had shin splints since high school but it’s very common with new runners.  I sort of think of shin splints as a rite of passage.  Lots of rookies get it.  If you can get past this annoying injury, you can probably train for a lot of different things.

Everyone calls it ITB Syndrome.  That’s Iliotibial Band Friction Syndrome.  Sounds like a world of hurt and I’ve never had it.  Now I’ll probably get it.  I’ve always dreaded this one, partly because it seems unavoidable.  The iliotibial band starts on the outer hip, runs down to the outer knee, then attaches to the lower leg bone.  It spans so much of the leg it’s a miracle I’ve avoided this one.  I even have an ITB strap for running but I’ve never used it.  I’ve also had the good fortune never to have had blisters.  I think it’s because I have a good foot strike and I take great care with shoe selection.  I’m not sure blisters are really injuries, although the ones you see at Badwater or other ultras look far worse than most injuries.

Most Painful
The worst injury of all may be a torn Achilles tendon.  The few people I’ve met with this injury have never quite returned to their former running condition.  This can be a career ending injury.  I watched Brad Pitt go down in the movie Troy when they shot him in his Achilles.  It looked like it really hurt.  Crashing my bike into a rock wall was more painful than any running injury, resulting in a deep gash in my right hand and plenty of road rash. I’ve also broken my back in seven places while tree skiing and separated my shoulder in a separate incident at Lake Tahoe, but that’s a story for another time.  Suffice it to say I understand pain.  What I have learned is that recovery and rehab from a serious injury requires more mental toughness than physical effort. 

Hard To Diagnose
Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome is not easily diagnosed.  Lots of runners have never heard of it.  It’s a lower leg injury that occurs when muscle groups outgrow their normal ”compartment” size.  I’ve never had this one and hope I never get it.  Maybe I should train less to avoid it.

The Shoe Conundrum
There’s been a lot of hysteria and hoopla this year about running barefoot or wearing the glove-like Vibram Five Fingers after the launch of the wildly popular book, Born To Run, by Christopher McDougall.  I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and I’m amused by Tweets from Barefoot Ted and Caballo Blanco, but I’m not at all interested in taking off my perfectly comfortable runnning shoes.  You can do what you want, but I’m pretty sure I was born to run with shoes. 

I’ve been watching my left big toe change form and color since I nearly destroyed it in July doing the Tahoe Rim 50K.  I had inserted my road shoe orthotics into my trail shoes which are a half size bigger.  Tha’ts not a good thing when you’re tearing down a hill 25 miles into a 50K.  Haven’t we all calculated how long it would take for a toenail to grow back?  Will it grow back in time for this or that race?  What if it falls off in the middle of a long run or race?  Will it hurt?  A black toe generally doesn’t even hurt, but the sight of it makes it look like an injury and so we look at it every day as if we’re injured.

I’d like to think my experience has taught me to be a smarter runner and triathlete, but I think it’s more a case of trying to do fewer really stupid things.  If training, racing and working out is a lifestyle thing for you like it is for me, you’ll probably get injured.  Unless you are Dean Karnazes, who claims he has never had a running injury and credits his perfect biomechanics.  Dean is a baffling example of staying injury free, but that’s not to say he has never been injured. He fell and cracked three ribs at the Transrockies Run this year and could not finish the event.  It’s possible to have perfect biomechanics but it’s extremely rare.  It’s like saying you’ve never had the common cold.

Bizz Johnson Marathon–My First DNF

It’s been a few days since attempting my BQ (Boston Qualifier) at Bizz Johnson so I’ve had some time to reflect and recover from the physical and mental agony of a DNF (Did Not Finish).  I can deal with not qualifying, but a DNF messes with the mind like nothing else.  It wasn’t until the day after the race that I was convinced about what went wrong.

After my best year of running in over 30 years, I had only one big goal left.  I had put in 100-mile training weeks to complete the Transrockies Run, knocked out two solid 50Ks in two weeks, and set PRs at the 10-mile, half marathon and marathon distances.  I had run 3:35 at Napa in March in pouring rain, and I wasn’t even trying to qualify.  I know I’m faster than the average runner but I don’t think of myself as fast at all.  Yet, all that was left to accomplish this year was a BQ, and somehow I’ve always thought you need to be pretty fast to qualify for Boston.  I was probably in the best shape of my life and my marathon training had gone reasonably well.  My Yasso training predicted a 3:23 marathon and I needed a 3:30 to qualify.  I tapered well, ate well and slept well.  I felt good about my prospects even though I knew I would still need to have a very good day to qualify.

The first eight miles of Bizz is a very gradual climb starting at nearly 5300-ft.  Marathon pace was 8:04 but I was willing to go 8:15 for the first 6 miles and make it up on the downhill.  The trouble started early when I realized in fhe first two miles I was putting out a fairly significant effort just to hold an 8:15 pace.  Eight miles into the marathon I was done.  At mile nine I was walking.  I was stunned.  What the hell just happened?  Seconds were ticking by, quickly turning into minutes, and just like that, my BQ was gone.  Anger quickly turned to confusion.  Was it the altitude?  Could I really not handle running at 5,000-ft. after running at 8,000 – 13,000-ft. for six days in the Rockies just six weeks earlier?  Come on, it should not be this hard.  I should be cruising through the first half comfortably at 8-min. pace.  So I started running again.  Wow, now I was having trouble just keeping a 9-min. pace.  I slowed to a crawl.  I was angry again.  Like really pissed off.

I reached the halfway point in just under two hours and realized if I finished, it would probably be in the 4:30 range.  I started thinking it’s not even worth running 26.2 miles to go that slow.  I didn’t know if I was mentally checking out or if there was really something wrong.  But what could be wrong?  I felt fine.  I just couldn’t run.  At the aid station at mile 14 I started asking if I could get a ride to the finish.  Everyone thought I was kidding at first.  But there was no way off the mountain.  The entire course is a dirt road with few access points.  It was the aid station at mile 20 before I found someone who could give me a ride to the finish.  3 hours 10 mins. and I was done.  I was completely spent, nothing left in the tank.

It was when I arrived at the finish that it occurred to me.  I’ve been taking red yeast rice to control my cholesterol.  I’ve been taking it for years so it never occurred to me that switching brands a week before Bizz could result in such dire side effects.  I was more sore the day after Bizz than the day after I did AR50 and I only ran about 16 miles at Bizz.  In fact, I was very sore for two full days.  That can’t be the result of altitude, training, stress, diet, sleep, or dehydration.  It must be medical.  I switched brands for red yeast rice when I learned the stuff I had been taking was no longer effective.  It had been re-formulated after the FDA cracked down on yet another manufacturer.  I started taking the new pills just six days before Bizz, completely forgetting that the two most common side effects of statins are muscle pain and muscle weakness. 

It has taken me a few days to put a DNF in perspective.  early on, I was angry for several reasons.  First, this was my BQ and I had trained for it.  My coach and running partners were confident I could qualify, and I knew I could, too.  I even thought I had a chance of running the best marathon I would ever run.  Everything was in my favor.  Second, I could have prevented it if I would have considered the side effects of statins.  It didn’t ever occur to me.  Third, I drove 650 miles round trip on a weekend to run a marathon for which I had no chance of running well.

So here’s the perspective, for what it’s worth.  My youngest sister nearly slipped into a coma this week after suffering from another MS exacerbation with other complications.  That right there sort of makes my DNF rather inconsequential and makes me an idiot for getting upset about a foot race.  I’ve set nine PRs this year in the swim, run and triathlon.  There’s a good chance I’ll never be able to say that again.  A DNF sort of puts a nice stamp on the year, don’t you think?  Amid all the PRs, I also had a DNF.  I’m also not the only one who suffered out there at Bizz.  Charles and Kim, two friends from my running club, also failed to qualify.  They have run over 100 marathons between the two of them.  They finished, but they were far off their BQ.  Turns out I ran about seven miles with Kim and she said it really helped her get through it.  I’m glad to have been able to help her even in my condition.

Someone asked me if I wish I would have finished and not taken myself out of the race.  Yes, I wish I would not have DNF’d.  But I think it was the right thing to do.  I’ve done the IV at the finish line with a severe bonk at the Way Too Cool 50K and been carted off to the hospital.  I hope I have learned to listen to my body and not do something stupid.  Of course no amount of perspective will change the fact that I did not qualify for Boston.  And so it sits out there as the one that got away, and a goal for next year.  I probably need a redemption run just to get it out of my system, but as I have come to my senses, I’m eternally grateful just to have the chance to run another day.

Multi-day Running Events

After completing the 6-day Transrockies Run this year, I couldn’t help but wonder what other stage races I might consider in the future.  There are an ultra number of options out there.  Can they all be as well-organized as the Transrockies?  Are they affordable?  How difficult is the terrain?   There are multi-sport ultras, typically a double or triple ironman but going as long as the double deca (20 times the ironman distance…completely insane).  There are multi-sport stage format events like the Ultraman World Championships in Hawaii, a 3-day stage triathlon circumnavigating the Big Island of Hawaii.  There are also ultra distance cycling events like RAAM (Race Across America) or the Sea to Sea, a 1,085 mile bike race from Homer, Alaska to Prudhoe Bay (Pacific Ocean to the Arctic Ocean).  Adventure racing is really a separate category, popularized by Mark Burnett’s expedition-length Eco Challenge which ran as a reality TV event from 1995 – 2002.  Today, there are many options for adventure racing in many different formats.  What follows is a brief summary of some of the best running multi-day events.  For a calendar at a glance, here is an exhaustive list of multi-day running races for 2010.

Possibly the original ultra stage race, the Marathon des Sables, which has been around for 25 years, can be blamed for the increasing interest in stage races, especially in northern Europe and the UK. There are now numerous multi-stage races to choose from, many much tougher than the MdS, which is still considered the benchmark.  Although it is very expensive to enter there is always a waiting list despite there being 850 runners this year.  The majority of these races are challenging because they cover large distances in remote, hostile and usually hot parts of the world–Libya, Morocco, Egypt, Kalahari, Gobi, Atacama, Namibia–in other words, deserts.  I’ll probably update this post as I learn more, but let’s start with the event that got this crazy idea started.

Marathon des Sables
The MdS is a 6 day, 151 mile (243km) endurance race across the Sahara Desert in Morocco, usually at the end of March or beginning of April.  Equivalent to 5 1/2 regular marathons, competitors carry everything they will need for the duration (except for their tent) on their backs in a backpack (food, clothes, medical kit, sleeping bag, etc). Water is rationed and handed out at each checkpoint.  Two competitors have died on the course.  Required gear includes an anti-venom pump and a signaling mirror.  That’s enough info for my wife not to grant me permision to do this event.  The official web site for N. American entries is here. 

Dates:  March/April
Distance:  151 miles
Land cost:  €2550 / ~$5000 (many competitors raise these funds through sponsors)

GORE-TEX Trans-Alpine Run
The idea of running across a desert doesn’t appeal to me, so this is my choice for my next multi-day event.  Put on by the same first-class organization that delivers the Transrockies Run, the Trans-Alpine Run has quickly become the pinnacle of stage races in only its fifth year.  This event is longer and harder than the Transrockies.  At eight stages instead of six, the course is 240km / 149 mls. compared to 113 mls. this year at the Transrockies.  It also has 14,000 meters / 46,000 ft. of elevation gain compared to 20,000+ ft. in the Transrockies.  Instead of tents, runners stay in the towns where each stage ends in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and Italy.  There are lots of great videos on YouTube but here is a great trailer from 2008.

Dates:  Sept. 5 – 12, 2009
Distance:  149 miles
Cost: Starter Package = €1180  / ~$1700 per team

Desert R.A.T.S. (Race Across The Sand)
In the U.S., Gemini Adventure Events puts on the Mountain R.A.T.S. and the Desert R.A.T.S.   The mountain version is shorter–4 stages, 10 – 25 miles per day.  The location is different every year and they don’t announce the exact location until the night before the race.  This year it was held in Copper Mountain, Colorado. 

Desert R.A.T.S. is a 6-day stage race starting in Grand Junction, Colorado, ending in Moab, Utah.  It stretches 148 miles along the stunning Kokopelli trail.  This is an individual race, not a team event.  Stages are as short as 9 miles, but there is one 50-mile stage with a generous 24-hr. cutoff.  Gemini Events sets up a tent city for runners but the way to do this event is to pay an extra $2800 for the Pampered RAT package.  Recommended for two racers or two couples traveling together, you can relax, travel and sleep in the comfort of an air-conditioned motorhome, get a daily massage and a nice shower.  Count me in.

Dates:  June 13 – 19, 2010
Distance:  148 miles
Cost:  Early registration until Jan. 1, 2010: $750; until April 1 = $950; until June 1 = $1050

Himalayan 100 Mile Stage Race
2010 will mark the 20th running of the Himalayan 100 Mile Stage Race.  This is a solo event, not a team event.  It’s an 8-day stage race with spectacular views of Mt. Everest, Kanchenjunga, Lhotse, and Makalu (4 of the 5 highest peaks int he world).  The course traverses isolated jungle, pine forests and major rivers while passing through small settlements and villages.  Yaks, wild ponies, and the red panda can be seen at higher elevations.  At each overnight stop, meals are fully catered and accomodations are in rustic mountain huts.  Stage 3 is run simultaneously with the Mt. Everest Challenge Marathon.

Dates:  Oct. 24 – 31, 2009
Distance:  100 miles
Cost:  Twin = €2599; Single = €3199 (side trip to Taj Mahal priced separately)

Trans Andes Challenge
Following the inaugural Trans Andes Mountain Bike Challenge this year, and modeled after the Transrockies Run, the Trans Andes Challenge is a shorter 3-day format located in the stunning Patagonian Andes Mountains between Chile and Argentina.  The course will include about 1500 meters of elevation gain per day.  Organizers are running the course in October, then posting detailed stage profiles on their web site.  This event is organized by Santiagos Producciones, a Chilean outdoor adventure racing company.

Dates:  Feb. 11 – 13, 2010
Distance:  30 – 35K each day
Land Cost:  $350 – $1900 per person (4 different packages — high end includes an additional 6 days in Pucón, Chile–includes , lodging, meals, and 4 days of fun adventure: Rafting, Trekking to the Villarrica Volcano, and more.

Andes Adventures
Santa Monica, CA-based Andes Adventures offers numerous choices.  Their Patagonia Running Adventure spans 17 days with no camping.  The longest run is 19 miles with optional shorter distances on many days.  The shorter 10-day version is called the Torres del Paine Running Adventure.

Patagonia Running Adventure
Dates:  Dec. 19, 2009 - Jan. 4, 2010
Land Cost: $2995 – $3200 all inclusive (depending on number of participants, 29 max)

2009 Transrockies Run — Final Thoughts

Lots of people have asked me if the Transrockies Run was everything I expected.  The answer is yes and no.  Yes, I expected an epic week of running and Colorado certainly delivered.  The views were stunning, the TRR staff was incredible, the atmosphere was electric.  But due to Kevin’s injury, we did not get to run hard everyday like we wanted to, so we didn’t get to experience the one thing we wanted more than anything–to push ourselves to the limit and see how we stacked up against a very solid field of runners from 10 countries and 29 states.  Am I disappointed?  Not in the least.  Most things in life don’t turn out according to plan.  I am grateful for even having the opportunity to participate. 

Kevin wasn’t the only one to run with a serious injury.  Ultra running legend Dean Karnazes took a hard fall on Stage 3 and cracked three ribs.  He ended up on a tow-line behind his partner Helen Cospolich (past women’s winner of the Leadville 100).  I ran a few miles with Devon Sibole on the very first day and watched her tumble ass over tea kettles twice right in front of me, putting a nice gash in both knees.  Aaron Heidt of the Two Joes from Canada fell in Stage 2, sustaining a broken tooth and split lip which required a root canal, stitches and glued tooth to fix.  They still finished in third place overall in the Open Men’s division.  There was plenty of carnage along the way.  As each day passed, more runners had bags of ice strapped to an appendage around camp.  And some unfortunate flatlanders seemed to never acclimate to the altitude and felt like crap almost the entire week.  Still, I am immensely proud of my teammate Kevin who ran the entire race with a torn muscle.  I have never witnessed anyone struggle through so much pain for so long in a sporting event.  I probably spent more time thinking of his condition than my own, but in a team event, an injury to one is like an injury to both.  Days after the event, I still wince at the thought of Kevin shuffling, staggering and plodding his way through the last few miles each day.  Every single step hurt.  Kevin is a stud.

The final results are humbling.  Kevin and I figured in our best condition, we might have covered the course in about 23 – 24 hours.  That would have put us in roughly 12th place in our division, exactly in the middle of the pack and right where we thought we might finish when we started the race.  I remind myself that our original goal was simply to finish injury free.  Well, at least we finished.  It took us 30 hrs., 57 mins., just edging out the California Old Goats, the oldest team in the field at 65 and 70 years young.  Right behind them were speed-inspiring names such as the Blazing Rocking Chairs and the Big Fat Cohibas.  Notice the lack of major brand names preceeding their team names.  Team names starting with Salomon, Nike, Montrail, North Face, and Nathan all led their divisions and were showered with schwag all week long.  The winnning time posted by Run Flagstaff was 14:59:59, less than half the time it took me and Kevin.  That’s just about the difference between running and going for a hike.

And that raises another point.  Most people think of the Transrockies as an ultra event.  It’s even called an ultra in some of the promotional material, but it really isn’t.  This year the course was 113 miles but we never ran more than 24 miles in a single day.  You don’t need to be an ultra runner to do the Transrockies.  In fact, just about anyone in decent running condition can complete it and fully enjoy the experience.  The cut-off times are very generous and you can walk the tougher uphills and still make the cut-off.  I trained by doing back-to-back-to-back long trail runs for 8 – 10 weeks.  I’m glad I did that but it certainly wasn’t necessary.

I think there was a big missed opportunity with the elite field that had assembled this year.  We had a fair amount of free time in the afternoon and early evening.  I thought it would have been great to have Hal Koerner do a chalk talk on how to run your first 100-miler, or have Anita Ortiz talk about her recent win at WS100.  Nikki Kimball has great tips on how to run down hills.  Dean Karnazes always delivers a captivating talk on any number of topics.  There were so many elite runners that have accomplished so much, it seemed like a wasted oppotunity not to have them share some of their knowledge with the other runners.  We were together for a whole week and never really had a chance to tap into their wisdom.  I chatted with a few of them during the course of the week, but you don’t necessarily want to jump all over them every time you see one of them.  It’s also nice to just have a beer with them and hang around the campfire.

I’m really glad I decided to use the Transrockies Run as a fund-raising event for the National MS Society.  The emotional boost it gave my sister was worth every step I took.  She spent the entire time I was racing in the hospital getting treatments for her MS.  It gave the whole experience much more meaning for me.  I have raised $7,000 and I still intend to reach my goal of $10,000.  The many other people I met who were also running for charities inspired me to do more and I am grateful for the example they set.

Would I do the Transrockies again?  I would love to but probably won’t, unless by a fantastic but improbable set of circumstances, several friends from my local running club all decided to do it in the same year.  If I could afford it and could make the time to do another stage race, I think I would choose the Trans-Alpine Run in Europe.  It’s eight stages instead of six, criss-crosses four countries (Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy), with over 45,000 ft. of elevation gain over the Alps.  There are also countless other events on my bucket list, so doing the same week-long event again, as memorable and as it was, is unlikely as long as I have to work to make a living.

Others have asked me where the Transrockies ranks in all the events I have done.  Is it at the top of the list?  That’s hard to explain to non-runners or non-athletes without sounding like a pompous ass.  My first marathon, my marathon PR, my first ultra, my longest ultra, my best triathlons–they are all very special to me.  There is no hierarchy of good, better and best experiences.  I remember more of the good experiences than the bad, and each race and every effort adds to a lifetime of experiences.  I hold an unbreakable record in the pole vault at my high school which stood for over 20 years before the school eventually closed.  I’m pretty proud of that. 

The Transrockies clearly has its unique place.  For me, it was the epitome of trail running and a celebration of the sport.  It combined so many things about running you just can’t capture in a single event.  The views are spectacular; the competition is fierce; the atmosphere is fun and exhilirating; the support staff is uncompromising.   But the two things that make it unlike any other event is the 6-day stage format and the team aspect.  Getting up in the morning to do nothing but run for six days in a row is a very liberating feeling.  No work, no commute traffic, no email or voice mail, no family commitments, no responsibilities other than to get your ass over the finish line that day.  Now do it with your teammate and don’t separate by more than two minutes all week.  It was the adventure of a lifetime and I loved every minute of it.

Transrockies Run Stage 6 — Vail to Beaver Creek

Total distance :: 21 miles, 1131 ft.
Climbing :: 4623 ft.

This is it…the last stage.  Wow, what a week!  The day started with a long line of runners lined up to get taped, bandaged or otherwise jerry-rigged to get through the last 21 miles.  We started right where we finished inside the Beaver Creek village.  It was a flat 2-mile run through the village before the day’s climb began, so I took off ahead of Kevin again so he might catch me on the climb.

I was thinking about my sister Julie who had been in the hospital getting steroid treatments for her MS the entire time I was racing.  I was pleased with my efforts in raising nearly $7000 for the National MS Society until I met Karl Robohn and Bill Grar of Team Livestrong.  They have raised an impressive $300,000 for the Lance Armstrong’s cancer foundation over the last three years.  I need to take a page out of their book and figure out how to go well beyond the $10,000 fund-raising goal I set for myself.  Karl and Bill also took the award in my book for the coolest gear–a mini video camera mounted to the visor and a wrist-mounted camera.

I was cruising through the 4-mile mark contemplating the full meaning of this week’s effort when I tripped.  In an instant, I was launched into a somersault, landing on my back left side off the side of the mountain.  I instinctively stopped the roll with my feet and quickly regained my bearings to see that I was just one more roll away from catapulting myself right over the edge of the mountain.  I scrambled up back to the trail and rejoined the long line of runners plodding up the mountain in a trance-like motion.  I was lucky.  That could have turned out a lot worse.

The trail suddenly entered a fantastic aspen forest where the breeze causes the leaves to twist and flutter.  It’s an awesome experience to run through this environment.  As I neared the first checkpoint at around the 6.5-mile mark, Kevin had not yet caught up to me, so I waited for him to avoid being assessed a 60-minute penalty at the checkpoint.

Somehow I got way ahead of Kevin again heading toward the second checkpoint, so I stopped to chat with a staff member of the Trans-Alpine Run who was on the course to cheer everyone on.

Early this morning as we were checking out of our hotel, I decided to check the GC and see where we stood in our division.  We were in 18th place, just 13 minutes behind Wullie Brown and Neil Rhodes of Team Rocks & Alps.  Now that seemed like a margin we could make up if we had a good day, except that everyone was probably thinking about giving it everything they had on the final day.  As I waited for Kevin at checkpoint #2, Wullie and Neil approached, so I intercepted the jovial pair for this brief interview:

I shared a beer with the aid station crew at checkpoint #2 as Kevin started making his way down the mountain toward the town of Avon.  We were less than ten miles from the end of the entire race and I was beginning my celebration.  It was a bit surreal running through traffic in Avon toward checkpoint #3 after spending so much time on the trail. 

Kevin didn’t want to stop and have his leg stiffen up at the aid station, so I grabbed his hydration pack and ran ahead to fill it for him.  He stayed less than a minute and was off to tackle the final 700-ft. climb of the race up through the ski slopes of Beaver Creek.  I stayed for another beer and chatted with the crew.  I knew there was a painful climb ahead, but I was in full party mode.

I didn’t catch Kevin until we were less than two miles from the finish.  Turns out there were numerous bear in the area earlier in the day, and several teams bolted straight down the mountain to the finish instead of taking the switchbacks on the course.  Several other runners were stung multiple times by hornets in the final stretch.  And it was hot.  Kevin had absolutely nothing left in his tank.  On the descent into Avon, his right leg had completely seized up, forcing him to stop.  Now, with less than a mile to go, every single step was a serious struggle.  We exchanged some final thoughts about the day, the week, the race, and crossed the finish in 6 hours 5 minutes.  We had run a total of 30 hours and 57 minutes to finish 19th out of 24 teams in our division.

The first thing I did when I crossed the line was call my sister Julie.  She was still in the hospital and I could only leave a message, but as I tried to hold back my emotions, I told her I am immensely proud of her for keeping up her fight against MS.  She struggles every day of her life.  I only struggled for six days, but I actually had a world of fun doing it.

I have lots of final thoughts about the Gore-Tex Transrockies Run, all extremely positive and fulfilling.  I’m going to save them for a final post after giving myself a few days to reflect.  For now, I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to participate and experience the adventure of a lifetime.  I am in awe of the effort my teammate put in under incredible pain and stress.  I am inspired by the many other teams and individuals who participated for a myriad of reasons and causes.  And I have a much deeper appreciation for the pure joy of running.

Transrockies Run Stage 5 — Red Cliff to Vail

Total distance :: 23 miles, 2110 ft.
Climbing :: 4407 ft.

I was sort of sad to be leaving Camp Hale this morning.  This place and the surrounding area really captures the essence of trail running and why we run in the first place.  It has been just us and the trail for two straight days.  Today, we head back into civilization at Vail Ski Resort.

This year, Salomon started a daily photo contest in response to comments from last year suggesting ways to allow non-elite runners to win prizes along the way.  Each morning, a Salomon representative would hand out 20 digital cameras—first come, first served—with a different theme each day.  At the awards ceremony each night, the top three photos were shown and the photographer won a Salomon backpack.  Today’s theme was Flora and Fauna and I grabbed a camera as we boarded the shuttle to Red Cliff.

It was a chilly 36 degrees in Red Cliff so everyone packed into Mangos where many of us had crammed in yesterday for lunch.  The starting chute was literally outside the front door of Mangos.  This was going to be the longest stage of the race and Kevin and I were prepared to be out there for seven hours or more.  Well, mentally prepared, anyway.

As we sat at Mangos for nearly an hour before the start, Kevin went to sit with Blaine Penny of Team Evan Can Run from Calgary Canada who we had met in Leadville over breakfast. I was going to join them, but they seemed engrossed in a deep conversation, so I left them alone.  I thought Blaine might appreciate the chance to talk to Kevin due to his medical background.  You see, Blaine is another runner here with a bigger cause.  His son Evan suffers from a degenerative mitochondrial disease.  He has started a foundation to raise funds.

Start times are always precise at TRR since Timex has been running the clock since the first year.  We set off at 8:00 am. eager to knock out a few easy miles.  The first two miles took us back through the last two miles of Stage 4. Then the daily challenge of climbing began.  Our goal was to keep a steady pace to the top of the climb since we weren’t losing much time on the ascents. 

Along the march up the mountain, Kevin grabbed some flora along the side of the trail as we tried unsuccessfully  to think of a creative photo for the contest.  A woman passed us, raised her running skirt, and offered to have her photo taken with the flora planted inside her shorts.  I snapped a photo as quickly as I could so as not to miss this serendipitous Kodak moment.

We reached the first checkpoint at 7.5 miles without feeling like we had lost much time.  After a quick re-fueling, I charged ahead as we continued to climb on singletrack.  I figured Kevin would catch me as we climbed to 11,700 ft.  We reached the top of the climb and enjoyed the views together as we crossed the ridge. 

I tried not to ask Kevin too many times how he was doing.  I only asked at the beginning of the day and at key points during the stage.  I knew he was suffering but didn’t want to remind him by constantly asking him about it.  I knew it was a constant struggle for him to keep his mind off the pain, find a comfortable cadence with the trekking poles, and still try and enjoy the run.  The best thing I could do was to stay positive, encourage him, help keep his mind off the pain, and try to anticipate his needs and his condition.

The final 9.5 miles of this stage runs straight through the famous back bowls of Vail ski resort, all the way around to the front of the resort.  I’ve done a lot of skiing my day but never at Vail, so it was sort of strange to be running along some of the most famous ski slopes in America with no snow on the mountain.  We imagined carving new tracks in fresh powder as we slogged up the mountain single file along switchbacks to the top of Mongolia Bowl. Everyone was walking and it was hard to imagine anyone actually running the final ascent.

We reached Checkpoint #2 to see several teams putting on their best display of dancing to the theme of “So You Think You Can Dance” as a TRR videographer captured the nonsense.  Still, it was another moment in the race for me that personified the liberating feeling the simple act of running can deliver.  Dance like nobody is watching, live everyday as if it is your last, and run wild and free.

Fortunately for me, Kevin was on a mission at this point in the race.  I don’t think either of us was ready to lock arms and do the Samba, and I could tell Kevin had his mind fixed on a different sort of Quickstep to get down the mountain as quickly as possible.  He quickly re-fueled and I told him to go ahead and get a head start.  I, on the other hand, took some time at the aid station inhaling salt tablets, peaches, Coke, Goldfish, recovery drinks, oranges, and more peaches.  And then another fistful of Goldfish for the descent.  Yum.

To my amazement, Kevin had managed to find another gear or an effective sedative and had set off at a faster pace than I expected.  When I finally caught him and his clacking poles about 15 minutes down the mountain, I had never seen him breathing so hard.  He blurted out that his heart rate was at least 170. I knew he couldn’t keep up that tempo in his condition with eight miles to go, but I think I knew what he was thinking.  He had come to a point where he had suffered enough, he was frustrated that he couldn’t run any harder, he was cursing his injury, didn’t want to spend more time than necessary on the mountain, and he wasn’t going to let the mountain get the better of him.  I get that.  So I stayed with him step for step.  We slowed as we continued the long descent, zig-zagging our way down the ski slopes into Vail Village, but the mountain lost.  We crossed the finish in 6 hours, 15 minutes, our longest run of the race.

We were wiped out by the time we reached our hotel.  After a shower and a cold beer at the bar, we decided to skip the awards ceremony and treat ourselves to a nice dinner at the hotel.  The hotel restaurant was offering 50% off all entrees and 50% off all wine.  We didn’t need much arm twisting.  Kevin treated me to an exquisite bottle of 1998 Shafer Cabernet Hillside Select which we thoroughly enjoyed with a fabulous dinner that I’ll remember for a long time.  And remember that photo I took for the daily contest?  I was told the next day it took second place, so Salomon is sending me a backpack.  I took the picture in such a hurry that I never even saw the final photo, but I am all schwagged out.