100 miler thoughts

Here are a few thoughts after my recent run at Rocky.  From an objective standpoint, things went well.  I had set a primary goal of a sub 24 hour finish and made that goal in 22:23.  My 20 mile splits were 3:40, 4:00, 4:20, 5:00, and 5:23.  I won’t go into everything that made that happen here except to say that I focused on an overall effort level and never really wavered from that.

The lessons learned are much more interesting to me.  This is only my second 100 miler but I’ve run a good number of ultras now and I really figured out a big key during my training and this race.  Essentially, I figured out how to embrace living in two states of mind at the same time.  Or maybe it would be better to say I figured out how to just deal with things differently.  I’m having a hard time expressing this still because, well, I think it’s just not the way most of us think.  To better illustrate this, I’ll just give a couple of examples. 

When explaining that I ran one hundred miles to people, It’s hard for most people to wrap their mind around it.  I certainly have difficulty doing it myself so I understand how they’re feeling.  I was pretty tired after the first twenty mile loop.  Therein lies the challenge.  You just ran twenty miles and you absolutely cannot dwell on the fact that you have eighty miles to go.  You have to keep it in mind, that’s important, but it has to become something you keep only one eye on.  The rest of your attention has to focus on things like getting from one aid station to the next, not tripping over that root, running form, etc.  The end goal is ultimately important and you have to have a laser focus on making it, but you almost need to dissociate your thoughts from it to where you have a very dim view.  The thoughts have to be associated more immediately on the present moment, lest you trip over a root and go sprawling like a newborn fawn, as I did at about mile 96.  The wonderful thing about this approach is that it can be applied to anything you put your mind to, even a lifetime of events.  Grand ideas lose focus when they seem so far away.  We have to always have them in mind, but it’s better to focus on the present.

I would like to say that my running is fun and that the races are always full of enjoyment but that wouldn’t be very true.  Yes, there are times when I am really enjoying myself and running has taken me to places most people will never see in person.  I’ve learned that they’ve become more about adventure, friends, and an experiment about what my limits are.  And since I mentioned limits, that brings me to another interesting observation.  The thing I’ve really picked up from moving a hundred miles on foot is pretty interesting.  I am simultaneously empowered and humbled at the same time.  That’s the big lesson here.  It will make you feel like you can do absolutely anything, and I’m not necessarily talking about running.  Whether it’s work, a sick family member, a tough decision - that’s the kind of endurance I’ve gained.  It’s like there’s some supernatural endurance that has nothing to do with my physical self.  At the same time, I’m also the guy that tripped over two hundred roots stumbling around in the dark and just barely trotted across the finish line.  A hundred miles will take everything you have to finish and will humble you for sure.  I’m cool with all of that.  I can accept both the endurance gained and the humility.

Rough Creek Trail Run Report: 40 miles and a serving of humility

This race was to be a step towards ramping up for the Big Cedar 100 in November.  I’ve done this before with other races, with good results.  The basic idea is to try to treat it as a training run for a more difficult race later on.  You might end up having a lousy finishing time, but if you recover well, a great training effect.  It was also my return to the ultramarathon distance after over a year of dealing with an injury.  I was both excited and grateful to be running, but also nervous about how things would go. 

Rough Creek Trail Run  

I certainly picked a tough course for a return to ultrarunning.  I guess I forgot how hard it was since I ran the ½ marathon in 2012 and then hung out in the shade working an aid station last year.  Yeah there are long flat sections where you can cruise along without having to even look down for rocks, but then there is this stuff: 

over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over... 

I’ve run a few hard races, including some in the mountains, and this might be the toughest race I’ve run.  The rocky, technical nature of the crown and the accumulation of the steep ascents and descents really add up, even though it’s a small portion of the course.  Try to remember the beautiful view waiting for you at the top...

because remember you get to do this:

over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over...

Might not look like much if you've run those mountain races.  Trust me, it isn't easy...

Thoughts from the trail…

“…Mind, body, and soul all do best when none are neglected…”  This was something I read just prior to the Rough Creek 40 miler and it would certainly frame much of my thoughts during the run.  Where was I right now?  This run would be pretty revealing in all three areas, and a good learning experience overall.

The Body

I’ll start with the area that had the weakest showing at Rough Creek.  OK, so I did a handful of runs in the 4-6 hour range, I was acclimated to the heat, I had done hill repeats.  I was still kind of ramping things up though and only had about 3 weeks of what I would consider good ultra training under my belt and it showed.  Loop one was easy except that I was sweating a lot and felt dehydrated even though I was drinking and trying to take care of nutrition.  On loop 2, I started to get cramps in my calves, which I've never had before.  I was still able to run about ½ the flat sections.  I knew part of this was probably a result of being undertrained for this course, but I saw some signs that I was getting really dehydrated as well.  I spent the entire 3^rd loop trying to manage my cramps and dehydration just so I could finish the run.  It turned out to be a long walk with a little shuffling mixed in.  Lots to work with here, both in my training and with my race-day fueling and hydration.

The Mind

I took a wrong turn the last time I ran here, no wrong turns this year.  I was especially cognizant of following trail markings. 

I kind of screwed up by getting behind on hydration but once I recognized it, this became a focus area.  I set goals between each aid station like what I would force myself to eat and drink.  I made myself drink so many bottles of fluid at each aid station and between each aid station.  In retrospect, I might have been able to regroup better if I would have sat down in the shade for 20 minutes or so and recovered more fully before moving on.

I admit my mind did wander and I did think about quitting, which is uncharacteristic of me.   I’m usually good at keeping positive but I found myself thinking “these rocks suck, this rusty crown sucks, this heat sucks, my cramps suck.”  It’s easy to do that.  Heck, it’s easy to do that in life, isn’t it?  I tried to think about how working through my physical and mental challenges would probably be of great benefit in a couple of months when I’m going for the 100 at Big Cedar.  And turning those thoughts positive finally started to happen…“There are beautiful yellow and purple flowers along the trail, I get to go do this, I’m still moving, I’m in a beautiful place with a great group of people!”

The Soul

What is it about these runs that get to the soul?  It’s probably all the hours on the course without a lot of distractions.  Even though I make a focused effort to cultivate reflective time into my life, it’s nothing like a full day of running around in the woods.  Add in a few challenges and I might have to think about what’s really important.  What is this suffering all about?  Is it something I should run away from, quit?  I often worry when life’s difficulties come up and wish things would go “the way I want them to.”  That’s a complete waste of time.  Maybe I could decide that the suffering could be redemptive...maybe I could even accept it and decide to carry my cross a little while. 

Dave (race director extraordinaire) asked me before I headed out for the final loop what I thought of the course since it was modified since the last time I ran it.  I said something like, “I’m really thinking about humility, Dave.”  And really that was what I thought about on the last loop.  A couple of funny things came up to help with that.  I left my shirt at a crossing where I could pick it up later, something I’ve done many times before.  I grabbed it on the way back and stuffed it in my waist band.  About a hundred yards down the trail I started to feel a growing burning sensation in my nether region.  After a quick inspection, I realized I literally had ants in my pants!  I’ve heard the phrase many times before, but whoever coined that phrase, really must have experienced ants in their pants.  You will jump around like a crazed nut and shuck your pants down without checking to see who’s looking to get rid of ants in your pants.  And that is exactly what I did. 

The hills and the cramps were really the humbling part of this experience.  Having not really experienced such disabling cramps before, it was almost comical to have the same series of events repeated over and over.  All of a sudden one of my calves would seize up, which resulted in my toes pointing straight down, which resulted in my tripping.  Soon to follow was some weird noise from me that sounded more like the bleat of some distressed animal and a flinging of my bottles up in the air as I headed for the ground.  The only way to recover was to stretch the cramp out by bearing weight on it and then pull myself up like a little baby trying to stand up for the first time.  I know it sounds like I’m being very dramatic but I think if you’ve ever experienced that you know what it feels like. 

The final 3 miles to the finish were flat.  I finally saw some signs that my hydration was getting better.  I actually shuffled along a few times without cramping up but really I just walked.  I would like to say I made a miraculous comeback but that’s not going to be part of this report.  When I got to the finish line area, I didn’t even try to muster a jog.  I just strolled on in, bottles in one hand.  Rough Creek had humbled me for sure. 

I am so grateful for this experience.  As I finished, I thanked God for humility. I thanked Him for my health.  I thanked Him for everyone out here running and volunteering.  I thanked Him for my wife, children, family, and friends.

Praying and Running

The last couple of weeks have been a little tough….not “how am I going to feed the family” tough or anything like that.  It has just been one of those periods where things start to add up, and I become a grouchy person to be around.    You know…work stinks, the house looks like a dang construction area, some folks are driving me batty, it’s 97 degrees for weeks on end, and I’m trying to find time to get in a long run, etc… 



Remember this guy?



I’m grateful that my wife, Sonya, has been patient.  She has put in a couple of thoughts about my grouchiness, but that’s OK.  I needed that.  I certainly do the same for her.  That’s one of the ways we serve one another.

The telltale sign that I’m not coping well is cynicism.  What better way to revel in my misery than to deny the sincerity of your actions?  And if I can throw in a little subtle sarcasm, I can even pass it off as light humor, right?  HA, HA!  Some other signs include general jerkiness, brooding, and long, prolonged sighs (as opposed to cleansing breaths).  Where does it get me, really?  No where.

For some reason, I always seem to neglect the two things that help me most during these times – prayer and running.  My prayer life is liturgical in nature and includes reading the psalms.  I can easily fall into a quick read on the “Prayer Express” if I’m not careful.  The running can go the same way.  I’ll default to just getting in a quick run here and there, rather than going on a long run to clear my mind or trying to maintain the focus required of my hill repeat workouts. 

What I miss out on during the “Prayer Express” is a real conversation with God.  I jump past those important listening moments.  Why do these few words in particular get my attention?  What does this passage mean for my current situation?  How can I pray about the meaning of this?  I recently remembered some words of wisdom from a wonderful Franciscan Priest I met named Father Francis – “Don’t try to overdo it or get all fancy with what you do.  Find out what works for you, and try to do it first thing in the morning.  The point is to spend time with Jesus.  Spend ten minutes with Jesus every day, and that’s a good start.”  Good advice…

Many people have written about how running can be addictive.  If it was a drug, I would classify it as an antidepressant and an anti-anxiety medication with a hint of something to add a little focus.  It may seem strange and even kind of pathologic to say that I use running to cope sometimes, but I freely admit it.  It seems to smooth things out when I’m feeling anxious.  It gives me a jolt of energy when I’m feeling down, and in a world that seems to lack focus, it is one thing that really helps me bring focus back in my life.  If I have something on my mind, it’s a time to block out the many distractions in life and collect my thoughts.  Often, the results have also been some of the most moving prayer experiences I have had.  What better way to spend my ten minutes (and more) with Jesus?

By the way, Oscar was just misunderstood.  He really just loved trash...

If you can't see the video (click here)I

Healing

What is healing?  For my running, that might mean being able to finally do the longer runs I’m used to.  Being able to head out the door and run for 3 hours or so without worrying if I might have to detour back home is a good measure of my physical healing. Yes, the miles don’t roll by as easily or as fast as they have in the past, but that will get easier.  Anyone in Texas who is trying to put in a long run in the middle of the day at this time of year is really just surviving the run, anyway.  Regardless, I am grateful to be able to do it. 

I work in a hospital, and you might think that I get to see people cured all the time.  Objectively, that’s not necessarily true.  Acute care hospitals are generally not a place where you are admitted with an illness and come out “cured.”  That does happen, but most of the time it’s only the start of the process.  I might get to spend a few days or maybe even weeks with patients, but they might be fighting their diseases for months, maybe even the rest of their lives.  I rarely get to see how everything turns out for these people. 

Even though I rarely get to see the outcomes for the people I am with in the hospital, I have seen a great amount of healing.  When does that happen?  It happens when a patient is calmed by someone sitting with them for a few moments and listening.  It happens when someone gets a hug from a coworker.  It happens when someone comes along and wakes you up by saying just what was needed.

Healing does happen with comfort in the early stages.  We have to have comfort to calm ourselves enough to process what is going on in our lives.  Later on, healing seems to be different.  A better description might be one of change or transformation.  At some point, maybe healing looks like someone with heart disease who is (almost) happy about eating broccoli.  Maybe it is someone who realizes they can turn away from addiction.  The most wonderful change I see is when someone realizes what a gift life is and decides to live each day with a renewed joy. 

I fully recognize that healing from a running injury pales in comparison to some of the suffering in the world.  In fact, I have had some guilt about the time I have spent whining about it.  However, what does my healing look like besides how far I can run now?  It’s a realization that I need to do other things besides going running to take care of my body.  It’s a new joy I have when I head out the door for a run.  It’s a new hunger to find out what happens wherever my feet take me.    

Running and the Virtues of Fortitude and Patience

Virtues are habits and firm dispositions to do good.  The word virtue is from the Latin virtus: virility, strength of character.  Fortitude is a firmness of will in doing good in spite of difficulties faced.  To put it plainly, I think of it as overcoming fear.  You might become a pretty good ultrarunner if you have a well developed sense of fortitude.  Anyone who is willing to toe the line at a tough run of 30, 50, or even 100 miles has hopefully spent some time developing this virtue.  In fact, I think that is one of the major aspects of training for and racing the longer distances – to know it might be really awful at some point but to do it anyway.  Fortitude is something that most runners develop through their training.  In fact, it happens naturally as our long run increases and as our weekly mileage grows.  We run longer and more difficult races.  The distances that used to scare us don’t keep us awake quite as much the night before.  The interesting thing is that a lot of this transfers over to the rest of our lives and we learn to “be not afraid.”

The virtue of patience is a form of the moral virtue of fortitude.  Knowing that, you might think that patience involves just getting tougher and enduring whatever comes along.  The distinctive mark of patience, though, is that it involves bearing the difficulty caused by another person or situation.  So, instead of overcoming fear, we are now talking about dealing with situations we don’t like very much - and maybe even seeing the joy in that.  We can grow in this virtue by learning not to complain to ourselves and others, to use hardships as a way to progress in this virtue, and maybe even desire difficulties as a source of growth in patience. 

Most runners I have met tend to get fortitude down pretty well.  Patience is sometimes another story.  Part of this is just a symptom of our culture.  We are a very time-impatient society.  We want something right away, on our schedule.  My shoe order said free 2-day shipping, and my shoes are taking 3 days to get here.  I’m thinking of the finish line, and maybe I should just focus on the next aid station.  If something doesn’t go just right in my race, does that mean it’s over? What if I tried to accept it and deal with it…what if I maybe even welcomed it…what if I was grateful for the difficulty?

My own struggle has been when my sense of fortitude leads to impatience.  For a while, that involved dealing with a setback in training.  My sense of fortitude made me initially say, “No big deal…that pain will go away,” followed by something dumb along the lines of, “I’m sure I can just run through it and then it will go away once I start to taper.”  This kind of thinking led to having to back out of two goal races I really wanted to run.  In the end, it is only through patience that I am really able to heal.  Truly backing off and starting over has made me grow in patience and is also making me a stronger runner and person.  The whole thing reminds me of some advice I got from a veteran ultrarunner before I ran my first ultra.  They told me simply, “Don’t try to push too hard and make things happen.  Relax, let the miles come to you.  If something comes up (and it will), just be patient and deal with it.”  That has been some of the best advice I have ever received.    

2014 Possum Kingdom Trail Run Report - 20K

This was my second time to run the Possum Kingdom Trail Run put on by Dave Hanenburg and the endurancebuzzadventures family.  It's a great race and a good excuse to get out of the city a little bit.  Last year, I was healthy and in decent shape, and was able to finish the 52 miler.  I even considered it more or less a training run for a 50 miler in the mountains a couple of months later.  That “training run” turned out to be a lot more challenging than I envisioned, but I was able to put my head down and finish the race. 

This year, I've battled a foot injury for a number of months and was glad just to be able to toe the line for this one, picking the 20K as the “easier” distance.  It was only easy in that the distance was one that I knew wouldn’t flare up my injury.  It turns out that running these shorter distances is pretty darn hard since everyone seems to think that we ought to run faster since we don’t have to go as far.    

In some sense, this kind of race was kind of good for me.  I let out a lot of the frustration of dealing with an injury.  Frustration at having to pass on a couple of races because I knew they would probably make the problem worse and frustration at not being able to run as much as I am used to…and so I went ahead and poured some of that into the run.  Before the race, I thought of how some psalms are full of praise and thanksgiving but some are also full of lamentation, even anger.  So I let some of that out during the run.  I think that’s normal as long as it’s momentary, not eating you inside, or affecting how you treat others.  In my case, I just channeled that energy in to the run. 

At the same time, there was great joy in finally going out to race again.  For one thing, it was great to see old friends and meet some new ones.  Also, I really enjoyed trying to run fast.  The course has an interesting mix of both surfaces and terrain and you have to choose when and where to push.  For me, this meant running hard up the hills and then letting gravity take over on the downhill.  One of the real moments of joy included really letting my feet fly running down hill to the point that I could hear and feel the breeze going by my ears.  Maybe you remember that sensation from your childhood when you ran as fast as you could everywhere you went.  That’s what it felt like.

One bonus to turning 40 this year…I won my age group!

Why "Running Along THE WAY"?

Running has become one of the passions of my life. It is no longer something I do just

to stay in shape. After over a decade of running, I have realized that being a runner has

become part of my identity. It is not something that I do as a means to an end. I’m sure

that there will be a day when I’m no longer able to run, but I imagine that I will still think

of myself as a runner.


The Way is one of the names for the early Christian movement. It is mentioned several 

times in the Acts of the Apostles. The followers of the Way had to be full of bravery and 

faith during this time. My faith journey has been much easier than that of those early 

believers. As I have matured in my faith, I have realized that my faith has changed 

over the years. What began with the excitement of conversion has also grown into an 

understanding of discipleship. Similar to my running, my faith has become part of my 

identity. In fact, I would say it is my identity.  I live every moment as a disciple of Jesus.


The interesting thing is that my running and my discipleship are often connected. The 

physical and the spiritual have often both been at work in my running. For example, my 

favorite type of running involves running for long distances in nature. Sometimes I pray. 

Sometimes I sort out the thoughts in my head. Sometimes I talk to God. Sometimes I 

just think about nothing. I find it increasingly important to have this time with God and 

to create a rhythm of activity that allows me to commune with Him. Sometimes, what I 

write will be only about running.  Sometimes I will write only about my faith. Often, 

these two will be connected in some way though, and I hope to share some of what I 

have experienced Running Along The Way.