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.done

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:done

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.

Transrockies Run Stage 4 — Camp Hale to Red Cliff

Total distance :: 14 miles, 1231 ft.
Climbing :: 3009 ft.

Start / finish at Camp Hale

At the start line this morning, I heard people talking about how the tents froze last night.  Another woman tried applying Neosporin but it was frozen in the tube.  Kevin and I could not have been happier with our decision to get a good night’s sleep in a warm bed.  We brought our coffee and hot breakfast back to our cabin and enjoyed it in the comfort of our cabin before heading to the start line just 150 yards from our front door.

The chute at the start line is full of energy each day.  The music is blasting as the race announcer counts down the clock and makes his final announcements.  We had a different race strategy today.  We had a relatively flat 2-mile start before climbing 2500 ft. over the next three miles.  After taking the first mile easy with Kevin, I took the second mile fairly fast in order to get a head start up the climb.  I thought Kevin would catch me halfway up the climb at around 10,500 ft.

As it turned out, Kevin was putting a big effort into today’s stage.  He wanted to push it a bit while his leg felt reasonably good.  He caught me before we even reached 10,000 ft.  But then the death march started.  This climb up Hornsilver Mountain is harder than the climb to Hope Pass.  At least Hope Pass had switchbacks that allowed us to negotiate the climb.  Hornsilver is basically straight up with nowhere to rest.  How steep is it?  Think of the steepest climb you have ever done.  This one is probably harder.  Kevin and I have never seen anything like it. 

Here’s the Jeep that was carrying the supplies to the first aid station.  The steep pitch blew out the driveshaft and sent the Jeep hurtling 50 yards down the mountain.  The driver told me later there was 30 seconds of panic as they attempted to stop the vehicle from careening off the mountain.  They are actually very lucky to have stopped the Jeep at all on the trail.  An ATV was sent to get the stranded supplies to the first checkpoint and managed to have an aid station ready just ten minutes before the lead runners came through.

Kevin beat me to the top by 2 – 3 minutes.  After exchanging some expletives about the insane climb we had just completed, we continued along the ridge where we stopped several times just to take in the magnificent views.  The view from the top is beyond breathtaking.done

Unfortunately for Kevin, the descent over the next four miles was a rocky ATV trail with uneven footing, forcing Kevin to twist and turn his leg in ways that only made the pain worse.  He continued to use my poles and I grew accustomed to listening for the clacking of the poles to gauge my speed so I wouldn’t have to look back all the time.  It was a slow descent as we were passed by many runners.  We are both fiercely competitive and can’t help but feel the bite when someone passes us, knowing there is nothing we can do.  Someone aptly advised us to “replace the Time Devil with the Finishing Angel.”  Easier said than done.

Another defining characteristic of this stage was the river running.  Less than four miles from the finish, we are forced to run in a river bed for nearly a half mile.  Naturally, this slowed everyone down but it made for some very fun running.

From the second and last checkpoint, we followed the dirt road into Red Cliff.  By this point, Kevin’s leg was on the edge of disaster again, so we just did what we could and crossed the finish line in exactly four hours, which will be the shortest time of any stage this week.  We weren’t tired or spent—we just couldn’t run any harder.  So we headed into Mango’s for the recommended fish tacos and a tall Guinness. 

Back at camp, Kevin and I made our way to the massage tent where Mary Jo gave me another incredible massage.  I asked for 30 minutes again today.  An hour and fifteen minutes later Mary Jo was done.  Not sure I could get through the week without the massages.  I am not sore, tired or trashed.  It’s amazing what you can do when all you have to do each day is run.  After my massage, I found Kevin under the Salomon tent where there was free beer all week long.  It’s also a great place to hang out and meet people.  Kevin was chatting it up with Anita Ortiz and Helen Cospolitch.

There is no cell phone or internet service in Camp Hale so we haven’t been able to check in with family and friends.  I’ll admit it has been fantastic to be disconnected from the rest of the world.  Tomorrow we are back to civilization as we stay in Vail.  We still don’t know what to expect from one day to the next with Kevin’s injury, but very pleased to have made it this far.

Transrockies Run Stage 3 — Leadville to Camp Hale

 Total distance :: 24.2 miles
Climbing :: 2930 ft.

TRR staff member Sarah provides taxi service for me.

Today’s forecast:  Partly sunny. Isolated rain showers in the morning… then scattered thunderstorms in the afternoon. Highs 54 to 64. West winds 10 to 15 mph. Chance of precipitation 40 percent.

What a difference a day can make.  We started the day in Leadville, the highest city in the country at 10,200 ft.  First thing I did was leave my digital camera battery in the charger plugged in to the bathroom wall socket.  Sarah from the TRR staff kindly shuttled me two miles back to the Super 8 motel.  Just another example of the staff here who are prepared to do just about anything to make the experience truly fantastic.

It seemed that by Stage 3, everyone had the drill down at the start line.  File in about 15 mins. before the start, go through  the mandatory gear check, scan your ankle chip as you enter the starting gates, and get ready to rock-n-roll.  Kevin and I were mentally prepared for a very long day although his right leg felt better at the start than it did the day before at the start.

Climbing out of Leadville at 10,600 ft.

We decided to take it out slow and steady from the start line in downtown Leadville.  The first three miles are on roads.  Kevin felt pretty good, so we kept up a slow but steady pace.  At mile 3, the course turned up toward the mountains as we started climbing out of Leadville.  Everyone was walking, but Kevin was making great time as his leg doesn’t bother him as much on the climbs.

We were ecstatic to reach the first aid station at mile 7.5 in 1:44.  Kevin was still feeling good, so we kept up a strong pace.  Now we were beginning to pass teams for what seemed like the first time in the race, although we had a ton of ground to make up if we really wanted to run a time we knew were capable of running.  All systems were working properly, so we just kept going.  We hit the halfway mark in a little over 2.5 hrs. and kept a decent pace up to the third and last aid station at mile 20.  From that point on, Kevin really began to struggle.  He was using my poles because I had the Leki antishock poles with springs that are much more forgiving on the wrists, arms and shoulders (see my Leki review here).  We clambered through the finish in 5 hrs. 47 mins.  Kevin is a stud.  I don’t know if I could have done what he did today in his condition.

The course was stunning today, climbing through high timber, rolling through alpine meadows, crossing numerous streams and valleys.  What saved me like yesterday was the phenomenal weather.  It was perfect racing conditions with temps in the 40s at 11,000 ft. and never getting above 65 degrees.  A constantly changing Colorado cloud cover kept us cool all day.

I wore my Vasque Celerator shoes today.  I’m wearing my second pair and intended on writing a review while I was putting 300+ miles on my first pair over the summer.  These were the perfect shoes for the well groomed trails we ran today.  They are also comfortable on the occasional asphalt and quickly shed water from stream crossings.  I’ll probably wear my Inov-8 Roclite’s tomorrow for the steeper and more technical terrain.

Our tent at Camp Hale.

Camp Hale looks and feels like an oasis snuggled in a vast meadow at 9200 ft.  From 1959 to 1964, 259 Tibetan guerillas were secretly trained here by the CIA. Camp Hale was chosen because of the similarities of the Rocky Mountains with the Himalayan Plateau.  We stay here two nights.  Kevin had made reservations for a cabin but we had no idea what kind of accommodations to expect in the middle of nowhere.  We were stunned and relieved when we stepped in to find a fully furnished 2-bedroom cabin with very comfortable beds and furniture.  When creature comforts are available, there’s no point cramming into a 7’ x 7’ tent.  We’re trying not to brag about our lavish accommodations as it appears there are only three cabins here.  We were especially pleased with our decision to book a cabin when it started pouring rain tonight.

Upon discovering our fine lodging, we quickly showered and headed for a massage.  I stuck with Mary Jo just to be safe.  She had given me an outstanding massage two days ago.  I know I recover faster than most people, but throw a 50-min. massage into the mix (I only asked for 30 mins. but gave her a good tip), and I don’t feel at all like I just ran 55 miles over the last three days.  Kevin and I both feel remarkably good.  Neither of us suffered on today’s run.  We have acclimated and finally feel comfortable running above 10,000 ft. 

That’s not the case for many others.  Today, we started seeing some carnage on the trail.  I passed a guy who described his medial hamstring tear as he limped along, saw someone else getting a massage with a heavily bandaged ankle, and numerous people still feeling nauseated, unable to acclimate. Even yesterday’s stage winner took a rock in the mouth bombing down the mountain, chipped his tooth, and needed a root canal in the afternoon.  Not sure where they found a dentist in the middle of the wilderness.

It’s probably a combination of things that allowed Kevin to rally today.  He continues to take the meds he brought (physician, heal thyself?), the terrain today was very runnable, the massages are really out of this world, and sleeping in a regular bed and not in a cold moist tent helps a lot.  Good thing we upgraded.  Still, I am amazed Kevin was able to get through the day in well under six hours.  24 miles at 10,000 – 11,000 ft. is not easy under the best of circumstances.  To do it with a torn muscle is unbelievable.  We’re well aware we’re only halfway done.  We’re playing it one day at a time, one aid station at a time.

Camp Hale at 6:00 am.

This evening we stayed for the entire awards ceremony and really enjoyed it sitting right in front of the stage.  The schwag continues to be doled out.  Tonight everyone received Windstopper ear warmers.  First through third place in every division were awarded Leki trekking poles, a heart rate monitor, and other cool stuff.  Virtually all the big names took the podium in their category–Kami Semick, Hal Koerner, Nikki Kimball, Dean Karnazes, Helen Cospolitch, Caitlin Smith, Anita Ortiz, Prudence L’Heureaux and Devon Crosby-Helms.  Not all of them are winning, but this year’s field is very competitive, largely due to the number of elite runners.  So far the course seems to be favoring the marathoners, not the ultra trail runners.  Except for a few nasty climbs, there are long flat finishes and well groomed trails that make the course very runnable.

As for me, I am living in the moment.  I feel incredibly fortunate to be having the experience of a lifetime.  My wife is taking care of the kids at home while I’m meeting some amazing people, seeing some jaw-dropping scenery, and running the kinds of trails you see photographed in magazines.  The striking feature of the Rocky Mountains is the sheer vastness of what you see.  Most of the time, I point my camera at something to take a picture and I realize the camera will never quite capture the sweeping expanse in front of me.

I’ll be perfectly honest—I do wish we could go bombing down the mountains, race to the finish, and see how we really stack up against this field.  Kevin and I can both go a lot harder.  But then I reflect on what we went through to get here and I am reminded once again that the journey is the prize, and it has been a truly amazing journey.

Transrockies Run Stage 2–Vicksburg to Twin Lakes

Total distance :: 10 miles, 2437 ft.
Climbing :: 3097 ft.

Today we ran the longest ten miles of our life.  Even before we started we knew it would be a run we will never forget.  We were shuttled by buses from our campground about 30 minutes deep into the mountains.  I watched my altimeter reach 9600 ft. before the bus finally stopped at the start of today’s stage.  We had a 40-min. wait before the official start.  That gave us time to chat with Nadia Larsson and Norma Bastidas of Team Crash n Burn from Calgary Canada, who we had met at dinner the night before.  Norma just completed running what she calls the 777 Run For Sight – 7 ultramarathons in 7 months on 7 continents.  She did it to raise funds for the blind and visually impaired as she cares for a son who is losing his sight.  She talked about her trials on the Gobi March and running an ultra in Antarctica and left us wanting to know more.  Her next challenge–climbing the 7 highest peaks on 7 continents in 12 months (yes, including Everest).  Check out her web site at www.normabastidas.com.  What an inspiration!

With a few minutes to spare before the start of Stage 2, I asked my team captain for some advice:done

Kevin and I had decided to walk the first two miles due to his injury.  He told me his injury is basically a torn muscle.  He can walk at a brisk pace but just can’t bear any weight on it, so he can’t run.  When we reached the start of the climb to Hope Pass there weren’t too many teams behind us.  We’re not used to running in the back of the pack but today there was no choice.  After a quick drink at the aid station, we started making our way up the mountain, trekking poles fully deployed.  We were following yellow ribbons to mark the course but the trail was still marked with pink ribbons from the Leadville 100 which just finished two days ago.  It was a stark reminder that we are running one of the most difficult courses in the country.

View at 11,400 ft. climbing to Hope Pass.

We were averaging 2 mph on the climb but Kevin was able to climb faster than me.  I kept a slow, deliberate pace.  I didn’t want to find myself puking, seeing double, or falling off the side of the mountain in a dizzy spell.  I wanted to enjoy this stage.  At 11,600 ft., I actually felt a second wind, but with another 1000 ft. to go, I wasn’t getting too excited.  Every time I glanced ahead, it seemed someone was taking a break with their hands on their knees, probably trying to avoid puking.  The final 2000 ft. is a series of switchbacks.  You can see almost the entire distance from any vantage point.  It’s quite the scene to see a long line of people pushing themselves to their limits. 

Two hours after the start of the stage, we finally reached Hope Pass.  We had passed the tree line at around 12,400 ft. so the scenery abruptly changed.  Everything suddenly looks like Mars.  We stopped long enough just to snap a photo.  The temperature had dipped into the 30s at the summit and Kevin was eager to get to a warmer place.  We started our descent but as we expected, Kevin was unable to run.  It took us another two hours to get down the mountain, finishing in 4 hrs. 2 mins.  We don’t want to be disappointed so we’re not even checking the results tonight.  Frankly, we’re just glad to have finished the stage.

The best part of our plan for the day was Kevin’s foresight to book a hotel room for us in Leadville.  It had started raining about 90 mins. from the finish and it kept raining as we were shuttled to Leadville.  The tent city where everyone sleeps was soaked.  We’re at a Super 8 Motel where sparse accomodations have never felt so magnificent.

I could not be more impressed with how Kevin is handling his injury.  He is taking dexamethosone (a powerful steroid) and naproxen (NSAID) and I can still see how much he is suffering.  On top of the injury, there is also the gnawing frustration of wanting to run this epic event and simply not being able to do it.  We’re still hoping he miraculously recovers in the next day or two, but we’re staring at a 24-ml. stage tomorrow, most of it between 10,000 – 11,000 ft.  We already did the math.  As long as we average 22-min. miles, we can still finish in under the cutoff time of nine hours.  If I was the one injured, I know I would not want to quit.  Any doctor in the world would tell him to stop, but I know quitting is not an option for Kevin.  I’m learning something about courage from my teammate.

Transrockies Run Stage 1–Buena Vista to Railroad Bridge Campground

Total distance :: 20 miles, 2437 ft.
Climbing :: 2721 ft.

113 miles, 20,000+ ft. elevation gain. Let’s get started!

Nervous excitement and anticipation at the start line was palpable.  The race started promptly at 10:00 am.  Kevin and I could not have been happier to get going after laying around doing nothing in Buena Vista for 36 hours.  Our hope was that our 2-night stay had helped us acclimate.

The lead runners were out of sight within seconds.   It seemed nearly everyone else needed the first few miles to learn how to breathe…or breathe less, and find our footing on what would be an extremely sandy 21-mile run.  It was about seven miles to the first aid station and the bulk of the climbing was in the first section.  The entire run was exposed and with a late start time, the heat quickly became a factor.  Did I mention it is hard to breathe above 8000 ft. while running?

There was lots of joking around and getting to know people in the first stretch up the mountain.  By the time we reached the first aid station, just about everyone was spent, including me.  Kevin pulled out his IT band strap and I made a mental note.  He never pulls it out that early in the run.  It’s usually in the latter stages of a long trail run to help prevent onset of an injury.

The next six miles were downhills mixed with energy sapping short climbs that left me out of breath.  We hit the halfway point (10 miles) in exactly two hours, much faster than we intended.  Then miles 11 – 14 turned into a hot, dusty, undulating trail that never seemed to end.  Several of us pulled under what little shade we could find just to try and recover before continuing.  When we left the second aid station at mile 14.5, I could tell Kevin was having trouble.  His adducter muscle in his right leg was causing a lot of discomfort.  We quickly agreed not to push it any harder than necessary.  It’s only Stage 1 and we have a long way to go. 

Kevin had to walk it in for the last five miles but the pain subsided.  He kept a brisk walk while I matched his stride with a slow jog, but keeping a 14-min. pace after 20 miles at 8500 ft. is not an easy task.  The impact of an injury in a team event is different from a solo race.  It doesn’t matter who is injured–it stops both team members–and we will need to figure out a solution as a team.  We crossed the line in 4 hours, 47 minutes and took the next shuttle to our campground.  It took another hour to get through a warm shower, an outstanding 30-min. massage, and a cheeseburger, after which I felt great.

It’s becoming clearer each day that just about everyone here has run a stage race in Tibet, Europe, S. Africa, or any number of fantastic locations, holds an unbreakable record, is a race director for some very cool event, is sponsored by a well known mountain brand, or won a marathon in the Himalayas.  Kevin and I are ready to invent sponsors of our own.  We are supremely impressed with the caliber of runners that have assembled in Colorado and feeling like we can hold our own.  We are in 84th place overall out of 133 teams.  If we could have run the last five miles, we’re fairly confident we could have finished around 60th position today.  The Transrockies organization is absolutely first class.  And we continue to be inundated with more cool schwag–Salomon recovery shoes, coffee mugs, mittens (yes, mittens).

Tomorrow is going to be tough.  We’ll need to see how Kevin’s leg feels in the morning.  We climb to Hope Pass at 12,600 ft. at 25% grade for three miles.  I’m out of breath just thinking about it.