All I want for Christmas is a new set of goals

“Long December and there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.”

--Counting Crows

From an athletic perspective, I’m very happy to see this year go. The only bright spot is that the lack of running has given me lots of time for weights and some of the best strength gains I’ve had since high school. Still, I am a runner and not a weight lifter. I’m much happier out on the trails than in the gym.

I attempted three races this year. I struggled through but completed the 100K at Bandera in January, DNFed a fat ass 50K in September, and finished on a positive note with 50 miles at Sunmart in December. I’m still not 100% over the back injury, but I am well enough to move on as long as I do so smartly.

This week I’ll hit the trail again hoping I’m recovered enough from Sunmart to put in some good miles. With my work schedule, morning runs before work are the only real option. But sometimes waking at 4AM and hitting the dark, cold, lonely trails takes more than I seem to have. I need a goal to keep me motivated. So here are my goal races for 2006.

In February, I will return to Huntsville, TX and attempt my first 100-miler. I am not approaching this race as an athletic challenge as much as I am looking at it as a celebration. On January 25, I will turn 40. I may enjoy my beer, but I am not the party type. So I will celebrate by attempting what I’ve wanted to do for a few years now.

Unfortunately, Rocky Raccoon would not be my first choice if it weren’t for the date being close to my birthday. The course is five loops of 20 miles each. A point-to-point course is much more my style and improves my odds of finishing. I find the biggest struggle is starting a new loop when I’m tired, cold, hurting, etc. Having that easy drop option at mile 80 is not something positive for me.

In the longer term, I expect a longer training cycle leading to a more difficult 100 miler. I am looking seriously at Cascade Crest in August. If I survive Rocky Raccoon, I expect that to be my next target.

Actually, I know I’m being foolish. I would do well to get in another couple of months of running before attempting to run 100 miles. If there was a good option for late March or April, I would probably put off my celebration a bit in exchange for better odds on success. The only real options that seem to exist are McNaughton and Umstead. But both are loop courses as well. Both are much further away. And neither will have as many of my friends present as Rocky Raccoon will.

If this week goes well, I’ll drop the application in the mail. It will be a few hard weeks of running followed by a 2-week taper. And if anyone wants to join me, I’ll be hitting the Barton Creek Green Belt early most mornings. Just leave me a comment.

Rocky Raccoon 100 Status Update

So Rocky Raccoon has been a quietly spoken goal for a while now. And right after Sunmart, I thought it was very probable; however, it seems I didn’t survive Sunmart as injury-free as I thought. I have what I think is an IT band flare up. It hit me about 2.5 miles into an easy run Monday morning.

The Rocky Raccoon application is already filled out and sitting on my kitchen counter. I expect to know by New Years if it will be mailed or shredded. For now, I’m walking miles until I’m sure about trying to run again. I’ll probably try it late next week to see where I stand. And actually, since I will spend so much of the race walking, this could actually be a good thing.

Sunmart 50-mile 2006

It has been 11 months since I finished a race. That was Bandera. An attempt at Lake Bryan back in September left me with my only DNF. I am feeling rough even on the first loop, but not rough enough to even think about the DNF.

Four months without running, recovery from unrelated surgery, and a new job that demands too much of my time have turned me into a very different runner. The extra pounds I’ve picked up this year add to that situation. I’m not here for awards. I’m here to finish a race. I’m here to push myself back toward where I was before.

I’ve heard about the terrain at Huntsville. Flat. Easy. No hill you can’t see over. So that is not quite true. It’s not quite flat. The hills are a little taller than I am; although, the slope is usually easy to run. Or would be if I wasn’t going 50 miles. I run a few of the hills early being the fool I am but quickly settle into walking up and running down. I hate the sand. There are several spots it is really bad but not very many. There are also roots and stumps. Many are hidden. I went down twice and made two great recoveries.

Because I haven’t run in so long, this is the first I’ve seen of many of my running friends in a long time. It’s good to see Joe, Henry, and Mark before the race. I will pass them each several times during my four loops. Henry most often as he seems to stay about the same distance ahead of me for a while. Joe very little as he is wearing his jet pack today. I’m just glad not to see the back of his head as he laps me, but he did come close.

The plan had been to target 2:30 each lap expecting to slow a bit with each one. The first is too fast around 2:15. But the hammys are already tight. I have no idea how I can be hurting 10 miles into a 50 mile race. It isn’t bad, and I’m not quitting. It is just not a good sign for things to come.

The second lap is close to target, but I know I’m not going to hold the pace. Also, the stomach is playing games, and I end up wasting time in another porta potty, my such break so far. My usual routine between laps is to slam protein, pack another bag of shot blocks, fill the bottle, and get out fast. I also grab the mp3 player this time. The combination makes for a long stop. This is time better spend on the course.

In general, I spend very little time in aid stations. My plan has me skipping most of them as my 26oz bottle is enough for many miles in this weather. It was during the third loop I realized my fueling error. While my combination of Cliff Shot Blocks and Gatorade a generally enough, I was not drinking as much due to the cold weather. I’m still not really stopping at the aid stations unless I need the bottle refilled, but I swipe a coke or cookie each time I pass to pick up a few extra calories. Somehow, this also seems to settle my stomach.

The third loop of four is the loop of doubt. I’m walking much more and can’t seem to move very fast when I do run. The course is just getting familiar enough to fool me into thinking I’m closer to the next aid station than I really am. I’m questioning if I can make myself go back out again. I know I can, but somehow I dread the effort of starting the final loop. At the end of the loop, the clock tells me I’ve slowed but not nearly as much as I had feared.

I make the usual pickup at the drop bag and dump a beach out of my shoes. I’m trying to not repeat the long stop of the last loop and get back out before I can think about quitting and getting warm. I do make it out quickly and just want to keep moving forward. I’m a mile up the trail before I realize my first mistake. I may have dumped out sand from the shoes, but suddenly the right one wants to rub the back of my heel the wrong way. I had another pair in the drop bag. Along with the light. Two lights actually. Still sitting a mile back in the bag with the shoes I wish I had on. At my current pace, I’m going to finish in the dark and with blisters. I considered going back for them. Instead I pushed on a little faster. Now I’m no longer being lapped by faster runners. I get passed some but often pass them back in the aid stations. As slow as I feel, I’m still passing people at times. The legs keep getting tighter and tighter. I’m still walking uphill and running downhill. In the flats, I’m picking points ahead of me to run to. Soon there are glow sticks out. Walk to the next two glow sticks. Run to the next three.

As I hit the last aid stations to fill my bottle one last time, half the volunteers are at the lake watching the sun set. I have just less than three miles to go with daylight fading fast. I pass two more runners only caring about how much light is left. At the interpretive center, I feel another runner behind me. I fly down the long hill leaving him behind. He starts to catch me again as I walk up the next. I pull ahead with each downhill. He reels me back in as we go up. Sounds like a logical story for a 235 pound ultra runner. The finish is not downhill enough for me to have an advantage. And after 50 miles, there is no sprint in me. It wasn’t until after I finish that I realized how hard I had been pushing.

I picked up my swag, grabbed a burger, and went over to the HCTR tent to see who was left. I enjoyed the burger intending to help with the last tent as most everything else was taken care of. Unfortunately, the day had one more card to deal. I had been cold the whole day. I thought I would be dropping off clothes into the drop bag as the day warmed. I dropped nothing as I never felt I was warming up. I had put on an old heavy coat as I was eating, but soon even that wasn’t enough. I knew I had to get dry. I had to get warm. After changing clothes and warming up in the car, I never quite made it back to help. Being warm and dry, I couldn’t make myself go back out into the cold.

Overall, I’m satisfied. I didn’t perform to plan, but I did PR by 30 minutes. I am also already over most of my soreness. Some pains remain, but none feel like they will be sticking around for the long term.