Tahoe 200, when 100 miles is not far enough. My groundhog day.

So, now I've been using the GoPro which makes it even easier to avoid writing. On the quest to further my idiocy I signed up for the Tahoe 200. When 100 miles is not far enough, seriously? Why go further? It's that same bullshit question people have been asking mountaineers forever? "Why did you climb that mountain?, because it was there" I think that's kind of a bullshit answer. But what do I know I'm pretty full of shit myself.

I was heading into the unknown. A distance I thought was just insane. I still kind of think so due to the fact I'm still wrapping my head around what actually happened. I have to say that a 9:00 am start time is rather civilized. Sleeping to a decent hour in a bed is awesome!

Staring off at the first climb wondering what is in store for me. All I know is that the first climb is right from the start line. I also knew the first 60 miles of the course were to be the most wicked miles I had ever run. I have to say I've run in some pretty rough and desolate places over the last few years.  I think it took me roughly 18 hrs to cover those miles. My feet got TORE UP! But, I was able to share some miles with Sean and Mark. Funny, I was about three miles in  on the inside of a right turn holding my line when from the left a runner dashed across my path and made me change my line. Having been a cyclist for years I wanted to scream at this (elite runner) watch your fucking line. I have never had somebody cut my line in an ultra. We have a long fucking way to go and ten seconds is where you are gonna make up time? We had that, and the fella talking about the hard cider he had before the race. His reply to a comment  was "you can't drink all day if you don't start in the morning." Part of me was like right on man, that's how you roll. It also confirmed my own sobriety. I would have been frightened to death thinking I couldn't get any booze for 16hrs.

 This is something I had spent a good part of the day dreaming of. Just getting off my feet and laying down for a bit. My crew kept me on track and let me "sleep" for about 45 min, eat change shoes and off I went with my fresh pacer Veronica. Veronica drove up to save my bacon and keep me company. I am very fortunate to have wonderful friends that are willing to leave their families and trudge through some slow ass miles with my tired ass.

We made our way through the night to a wonderful sunrise keeping each other amused with funny stories and raw emotion.  I'm so grateful that we were able to share those miles.

Poor Veronica, when we got to the 80ish mile aid station my crew wasn't there. I wasn't sure what I was going to do? This is where I NEEDED some food, attention and clean socks for sure. What I didn't really know was how fucked up my feet were at that point. What was to be a 20-30 min stop was probably 1.5 hrs. 

I had the nicest trail angel clean my feet and ever so gently tape them up so I could keep going. People were lookin' pretty concerned when they walked by and saw my feet.  We packed up and headed out, Craig's first pacing duty. The miles kind of clicked off and passing 100 plus mark was rather comforting because I could start counting down the miles from here. Still, it felt like all we did was climb, climb and climb some more. The decent to Tunnel Creek was rough. The miles seemed to go on forever and the road down to the aid station was too steep for me to run and uncomfortable to walk. I had a burst of energy prior to the road and dropped Craig (per his request) and I had much time to think about how bad I was hurting. I stopped about a 100 yrds from the aid station, dropped to my knees and began to bawl. I was convinced my race was over............ My feet have never hurt so bad. I was crushed, all the training, all of the support from friends, my spirits were at a low point feeling I was going to let everyone down.

 Spike took a long look at my feet and decided he could fix them. It was going to be a process, he said sit back and relax. Let me say that Spike was being as gentle as he could be, just even the slightest touch to my toes sent me squirming in my chair. Wicked painful! Being that this was a new distance I had no clue on when my pacers would be needed. Veronica had been such a trooper, now it was Shana's turn!

We made our way through Incline Village. Getting strange looks from the rather well heeled tourists as we made our way down the bike path. The easy fun "stroll" through town was nice, but short lived. We hit the power line, BOOM! It was so steep we'd take 20 steps and rest, 20 steps rest and repeat all the way up. This one section must have taken an hour to go a mile, at least it felt that way. Once we reached the highpoint I needed a break.

I had been looking for more flattering pictures but this accurately captures the moment. Dog ass tired and completely stoked to have the love of my life by my side. We climbed some more and a little more, a little more then we were treated to some of the nicest single track I had run so far. One of the trickiest things to combat in this kind of running is managing the highs and lows. Shana and I rolled into the next aid station right before the sun went down. I must say the aid station was a tad wacky, between the costumes and rather inebriated volunteers I really wanted to get out and get moving.  For some reason the vibe didn't feel right for me. 

Craig resumed his pacing duties and it's a good thing because I was starting to fall apart mentally. as we left the aid station they informed us that there had been some vandalism. This was a bit troublesome, The course marking had been perfect, just when you needed to see a dragon, they would appear. Even better at night the reflectors would light up 100's of yards away. But here was the section that wasn't spot on. I convinced Craig that we were going the wrong way and ended up backtracking and adding an extra 3 miles to the night. Hence my 208 finish rather than 205.

We had another runner and his pacer come by and get us going in the right direction. This was nice but they were moving much faster than us. I stopped to change batteries in my headlamp and I was like go ahead I'll catch up...........Dang, they took off! Next thing I know, I'm having to haul ass down the trail to catch up to them. So, these new batteries I put in, lasted about 2hrs. Boom, rookie mistake. I had thought about putting new energizer batteries in because the re-chargeable batteries had not been working so well. Well guess what................I forgot!

 In my ever frantic pre race packing I stumbled upon this tiny little light on my keychain and thought "Hmm, I'll just clip that on my pack". Now, having run a few stage races I have learned that picking something up and thinking "wow, that doesn't weigh much" and adding it to a pack can get heavy. This little bastard saved ma bacon. I ended up clipping it to the wrist strap on my hiking pole and holding it out in front of me as I made my way down the trail to Tahoe city.  Shitty light, fatigue and a sense that we were going in circles made for a long night.

At this point Craig an I are spun! We are tired, hungry and almost discouraged. When off to the side of the trail I see this critter. It's not a rat, it's not a hamster I have no idea what it is. I've been seeing all kinds of things for the last few hrs on the trail. Most of which wasn't real. So I hollar to Craig, "you seein' this?" He screams back, "YES but it's not a goddamn dog so don't pet it"! Still not convinced this was real thing, I had to google it once we got home after the race. 

 Craig and I finally made it to Tahoe City. Much to my surprise my very strict rule following wife was like, "wait here, I'll get the car for you to rest in" I said "but they said to park across the st". And she very salty replied "F#ck them, you need to sleep"! I crawled into the passenger side of the car pulled up my down bag and got cozy only to have Craig bring me an egg burrito. My dilemma began, eat or sleep, eat or sleep. Eating won out. At that point I needed solid food more than sleep. I changed my socks, tended to some blisters and Shana and I took off. We were a few 100 yards form the aid station when Mark came flying by. "We can run the last 50k in less than 6hrs and make it under 80 hrs" he shouted as he ran past. Not gonna happen for me. I had a few reasons, A. I'm not sure I was feeling it right then and B. I was running with my best friend, Shana. This wonderful woman has had to endure many an ultra and has been suited up to pace only to see me come into an aid station, know that we were not going out and I was racking up another DNF. She can read me like a book Not this time! We had a blast, the trails were steep, the views were awesome and it was just the two of us! Climb, climb, climb We reached the top and were once again treated to some of the most spectacular flowing single track down to 190. It was so nice that Craig had a bit of a startle when he realized that we were coming in a lot faster than he figured. (Shana had the same type of startle earlier in the race.) We came flying it to mile 90 feeling great,

We ate, drank and tried not spend too much time hanging out. I'm not sure if I was pumped to get going or just to be done. As with most of the aid stations and fresh pacers, they are ready to run. Me, not so much. It takes me a bit to start going again. We ran/hobbled through civilization for what seemed like a few miles but probably only one. Once we hit the dirt, we stopped to talk to some folks walking their dogs because at this point being social was more important than moving quickly. We climbed and climbed. Seriously, this race was one up after another. Craig had been talking to another pacer and they told him "when you think you are at the top, you aren't"! We climbed, we talked shit, we laughed and BAM! the wind kicked in. We stopped put on our jackets and made our way to the top.  

I can't describe how good it was to see this sign! Woo hoo we're heading to the finish. It was all down hill from here........... Craig and I donned the iPods to rock our way to the finish.  Craig asked if I wanted to listen to Rise of the Valkyries, uh nope. Not interested, I had Taylor Swift queued up! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfWlot6h_JM I have no shame. I'm quite partial to this tune.

Victory whoop

The Lean

I'm cold

Home snoozin

Pre race with Candice. Thank you for such a great event.

Best team ever!

The Buckle!

Howie

Oh the pain.

I think I ruined the tub.

Trail angel

Knuckle heads

More Knuckle heads

Big beers for 200 miles

Nap time on the way home and before work

Should have been 205 but we got lost. But 208, 1 lap, I'll take it! Thanks everybody it was quite the adventure!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J13FvcM47PA

Efforts, big and small

So while at the R&R Marathon I heard that there was a mini marathon. Not knowing what that could be I had to look it up. Really……….. a 5K? More people are running marathons, mud runs, color runs and the dreaded R-word (a race series I do not mention out of respect for the old goat).  I started running at one of the best trail races ever while in Indiana. Paper plates with magic marker arrows and the cupboard soup at the finish. I was less than fast and took many walk breaks (still not really fast) but trudged on to have a blast.

What ever gets people off the couch is great! I still love getting a medal after a race, the best ones being hand made. But why is there a desire to overstate the distances? Can we give credit for any run and the guts to pin on a bib and toe the line?

Is it real?

I was scanning fb the other day. I say scanning because do we ever really read stuff? When we ask somebody, "hey. how are you"? Do we actually care?

One of my friends posted this " ....funny thing Facebook, I notice how rarely people post when they are down or are having a difficult time most posts are super duper happy and you could easily believe that most of the face book peeps never have a bad or dull day...….

I have said it before fb is the perpetual first date. Presenting only the pretty photos, good stories and the face that we want the world to see.

I have been able to change my life for the better one the last few decades. I was given a second chance at life. I do my best to embrace my life on a daily basis. There are days however that I can get agoraphobic. I slide into depression and sit on my ass a binge on TV (thanks Netflix).

Right now I'm dealing with my lack of compassion for a family member. I have no feelings for this particular person's situation.  I am looking inward to find some compassion

Cross Fit, Paleo, Barefoot Running and other topics that piss people off!

MY blog my RANT

Judging by the responses of my posting about CF I have touched a nerve. I participate in a sport where I am called a freak on a regular basis. Do I get PISSED and go on and on about it how that's not the truth? I hope not.  But tell somebody that CF or a hardcore extreme diet is bad for them and WOO HOO panties are all bunched up!

When I first heard of CF some years ago, I thought wow what a great idea. It was pitched as all over fitness encompassing various workouts to keep it fun, fresh and also from hitting a plateau. As I watched it grow, I watched people treat it more like a cult and religion.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=De7rbB2bteE


If you diss CF you are met with the same rage as talking bad about Scientology with Tom C or John T. What gives? Why are Cfitters so damn sensitive? Please tell me……………….

Friendship

I'll be the first to admit I am intermittent about blog posting. It's partly because I think I am lazy but largely I think it's because I want to wait till I have something to say rather than the ramblings of a serial self inflated asshole.

I am thinking about friendship. What kind of friend am I, what kind of friend do I want to be, what do I admire in people to want to call them friend?

Social media has expanded and narrowed friendship in the same moment. I have over ### of friends on my social media page, most of which I have never met and never will. Does this mean I am liked? What does this say about me? I am told, it's none of my business what other people think of me, and for quite a few years it really worked. I drank, smoked and did things without regard of the consequences. My motto "If I can't remember, it didn't happen".

The longer I am in recovery the more I care about how people view me but at the same time there are only a select few people whose opinions matter to me. Yet another Yin and Yang concept in practice. It's made simple.

The Goal is not to be the best at any cost,but good enough so as not to be picked last.

I woke up this morning with that buzzing through my head. I was reveling in the comfort of my puffy pillowed bed. The weekend consisted of early mornings of running and today I have the luxury of sleeping in (6:00am), coffee, bad T.V. in bed and a wife that can work at home on occasion.

I was never any good at sports growing up. In H.S. I discovered that I had a knack for soccer. Mostly because I could run. I could run fast and I could run for a long time. I had somewhat of a Forrest Gump  quality when it came to sports. I also have what my wife likes to call a badger-like focus when it comes to racing.

I'm not bagging on the DFL, in fact I applaud the person that guts it out to the bitter end. One of the most attractive parts of ultras is the sense of community we share.  Taking care of each other  on the trail and standing at the finish line waiting for the last runner to finish.

I'm not saying I don't like to do well or would even like to "win" an event. The reality of being in the most stacked age group keeps me grounded. I take great joy in being able to toe the start line with the winners as well as the DFL!

ME me me me me me me

  So how does one trudge the path of selflessness? What is true selflessness? We are in an age of "look at me,"post it now. Phones have features that give you the option to take a pic and post it right away. I am not free from the selfie, far from it. I like me, my blog is a testament to my me-ness. This is my soapbox! I do my best to open my trap sparingly. I find too much ranting all of the time labels you as, sir bitch a lot. I am a complainer, I bitch a lot. Mostly just to blow off steam.