A Reflection on Four Years of Sobriety

And when you get to the point that you cry out for the Holy Mother and the Holy Father, “Help me!”, you’ll realize that you’ve never been alone. That they have been with you, holding you in love since before you were born.  If there was ever a moment where I could say that the Holy Spirit spoke to me, it was July 1^st, 2023 about 1pm on Holy Cross Ridge.  I was scouting a section of the Holy Nolan’s line from the Holy Cross OHV Trail to Mt. of the Holy Cross.

 Looking back to December 23 of 2019 one day with out a beer seemed impossible. There is always a reason for a beer. But I made it that day. One whole day without a beer. When you say, “That’s it I’m not doing this anymore”, it’s like losing a good friend. Part of your identity, and the “this is me” idea that goes along with it.  You feel lonely. It seems pointless. You think to yourself, “Man, it’s not that bad, I can just have one or two every now and then.”

 That “friend” is not really a friend.  Alcohol is like that toxic partner, literally.  Your life is worse with them or alcohol in it, but yet, your dumbass keeps going back, subtly acknowledging that you do, in fact, like abuse. Every day without toxic partners is one day better than the one before it.

So, what happens when you step off the train? If you are expecting some immediate epiphany or instant nirvana of some kind, you will be disappointed. It’s not like that. The changes are slow and gradual and they build on themselves, just like your tolerance for alcohol consumption. You will feel alone. You will feel anxious. You will feel like you are missing out. You will be looking for something else to fill that void of your friend.  And just like every hangover you ever had, you gotta suffer all that. There is just no way around it. 

Think of sobriety as a grand adventure. You know what life is like when you drink every day, but you don’t know what lies in store for you in a life of sobriety.  Tolkien has a few great quotes about adventure. 

“Darkness must pass, a new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer.” 

 “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no telling where you might be swept off to.”

 “The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow, if I can.”

Sobriety is the longest ultramarathon you’ll ever run. No hundred, two hundred or mountain multiday is harder than sobriety.  Cesar said, “It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience."  The greatest ultrarunner in the world, Yiannis Kouros said, “Without patience, you will never conquer endurance.”  Patience is the name of the game. You have to wait. You have to accept every moment, every day just like it comes at you. You do yourself a disservice if you distort the lesson that you are getting taught in the moment by having that drink.

Make this your mantra, a saying from the Marathon Monks of Mt. Hiei:

“Always aim for the ultimate, never look back, be mindful of others at all times and keep the mind forever set on the way.”

Thank the Holy Father and the Holy Mother, pray the Rosary every day and be kind to yourself, offer yourself compassion and grace just as they have offered it to you. Start your life anew, set out on your own grand adventure.

 Below is a list of books that I have read and recommend, regarding sobriety:

 Alcohol Explained

https://a.co/d/fqwZvke

 Alcohol Explained 2: Tools for a Stronger Sobriety

https://a.co/d/4rh9K6u

 Alcohol Lied to Me: The Intelligent Way to Escape Alcohol Addiction

https://a.co/d/0zPgBjo

 Alcohol is SH!T: How to Ditch the Booze, Re-ignite Your Life, and Recover the Person you Were Always Meant to be

https://a.co/d/efrgaz7

 We Are the Luckiest: The Surprising Magic of a Sober Life

https://a.co/d/iZbWdoe

 This Naked Mind: Control Alcohol, Find Freedom, Discover Happiness & Change Your Life

https://a.co/d/gFxJnE5

 The Unexpected Joy of Being Sober: Discovering a happy, healthy, wealthy alcohol-free life

https://a.co/d/6YQ9aCZ

Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee

My post in the GVRAT Facebook group after finishing the out n back on May 27:

     My long march across vTennessee and back is over: 2000K or rather 1270 miles in 27 days is done. Thank you to Lazarus Lake, Steve Durbin, and #badmike for putting this together and challenging us to put forth our best effort. Thank you also to Vincent Antunez from Trail Toes Anti-Friction Foot and Body Products, Truxton Spangler, and Bill Henderson for their support. I could not have been successful without your help. Thank you also, to everyone who sent me text messages, Facebook messages, and comments on Facebook and Instagram. I even received a few post cards. Thank you.
     I am happy that this carnival ride is over. But I’m also sad. I think sadness is a natural feeling when things end. At the end of a movie, a book, a relationship, at the end of a period of your life which you have moved on from. But, with a new thing, a new beginning, there is also hope. Hope for something better, or at least more, and an expectation of happiness. We have to remember what Andy wrote in the letter to Red, “Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” During my runs I tried to keep in mind thoughts from folks like Laz, “…and my hope for each one of you is that you find something in yourself, you never thought possible.” From Ken, “You can do more than you think you can. You are stronger than you think you are.” And from Joe, “Just do the damned thing.”
     Like many of us, we signed up for this GVRAT 1000K virtual race because our goal races have all been cancelled due to COVID-19. Races like UTMB, Hardrock, Western States, among countless others. Me personally, I had ambitious plans in July to run the Val d’Aran and Ronda dels Cims 100 mile mountain races in the Pyrenees and run with the bulls in Pamplona. In August I was all set to travel to Chamonix. To take part in UTMB Petite Trotte à Léon (PTL) with two friends, a Canadian and a Frenchman. But all of those events were cancelled. The last few years I have taken as long as four weeks to go on pilgrimage routes in Spain, Italy, and Texas but due to travel restrictions I felt that pilgrimage walks in Brazil, Portugal, or Ireland would also be out of reach. At the beginning, my goal for GVRAT was to finish the 1270 miles, the out and back, in the month of May. A lofty goal, foolish even, which I was not sure I would be able to meet. This time running locally became for me an internal pilgrimage, or kaihogyo. A kaihogyo of the heart, of the mind, a kaihogyo of the soul. Mile by mile, day by day, running, reflecting, projecting.
     For those in the event who have more miles in front of them than behind them, don’t despair. Be patient and put your miles in. Challenge yourself each day to do your best. Adopt the John Grady Cole mindset, stick and don’t quit. Is it raining? Stick and don’t quit. Your feet hurt, you’re tired, the damned dog knocked the pancake batter bowl out of your hands? Stick and don’t quit. Your partner is going through a tough time and you don’t feel loved? Stick and don’t quit. Just keep sticking to your goal to cross vTennessee on foot. You’ll make it. Take heart in the fact that when you step out the door each day, press start on your Garmin, and wait for it to pick up satellites, you are becoming more human. The distinctive human trait is conscious free will. And by choosing to go out and work toward your goal, among all the other choices you could have made, you are connecting with all of humanity over the long arc of history. You have this opportunity to contemplate life’s big questions everyone has asked, “Who am I? How do I know? And What do I value?” You have this opportunity to connect with all persons throughout our respective national histories, our respective religions, our poets, and the characters of our national epic literature -- fiction or non-fiction.
     You can sail to Troy with Helen and Paris. Be with brash Achilles as he chooses immortal fame over long life. With Cesar crossing the Rubicon, alea iacta est. With Jesus at Gethsemane. In Roncevaux we can sing La Chanson de Roland. With the Light Brigade in Crimea. With Davy Crockett when he told the legislature, “You may all go to hell, and I will go to Texas.” We can dream with Dr. King, become the masters of our fate with Mandela, and find our meaning with Frankl. Maybe even with Cpt. Woodrow F. Call driving a herd of cattle to Montana. Once we are done with this crossing, we can return to our respective homes, be among our people, and go to our place. Maybe a place like Lonesome Dove. We’ll sit on the porch with Augustus McCrae and spin the yarn until late in the night and tell our stories of Tennessee. How we stopped in Memphis and saw the Legendary Dale Watson and his Lonestars. And how we knew, when he told us, “honky tonkers don’t cry,” he was lying. How we slept on the floor of the washeteria in Wartrace after paying our respects to Strolling Jim. How we stopped at Jan’s house in Knoxville and she had dumplings on the stove for us. When we stopped at Bill’s mammas house, across from Tusculum University, and ate her famous cornbread. We’ll turn in, long after the oil in our lamp burns out. We won’t have to worry about Pedro Flores or The Comanche. Finally, we can rest.

Mollie Renshaw - Chapter 1

Mollie Renshaw

Chapter 1

The iPad played “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” on repeat for hours, before Mollie woke up. James Renshaw, her father, had been in the kitchen all night alternating shots of whisky and hits of cocaine, alone. He was passed out now, a Bud Light bottle lay spilt on the floor under his chair.

No one knew why James did this, but it happened frequently. He’d just sit his chair, stare, and play a song on repeat. Mollie figured he was sad, so she left him alone. James loved her, she knew that, he always said, “You’re my baby girl, Daddy loves you.” But he hit her too, from time to time.

“God, dammit Mollie, why’d you turn the fukin music off,” James said as he slapped the right, backside of her head. Mollie began to tremble. She’d turned her back to him looking to switch off the iPlayer. The music was so loud in the kitchen when she turned it off, the silence woke him up. “Daddy, I’m sorry, it’s just that it was so loud in here, I turned the music off,” Mollie said. She never turned back to look at him, just cowered a bit as she walked to her room with wet eyes. This wasn’t her Daddy, her Daddy was somewhere else, Daddy never hit her. As long as she didn’t look at him, she could lie and believe it.

James took another bump. He’d been feeling sorry for himself for the last 10 years, since Mollie’s mom disappeared. She’d been raped by one the Bandito gang members. James didn’t stand up for her. James never wanted to join the Banditos, but he got forced into it. He didn’t do too much. He’d just make a run of heroin and coke out of Monterrey to Houston, twice a month.

Life started out promising for him. He joined the Army at 17, with a waiver from his dad. Just before the 1^st Gulf War. He bragged about being in the Battle of Wadi Al-Batin with 1^st Cav, but really just drove a truck around to stirr up clouds of dust in a deception movement. The real action was from the northwest. However, it didn’t stop him from getting what the VA called, “Gulf War Syndrome.” Alot of folks just thought he was lazy. And I guess you could say so. However, James suffered from fatigue, headaches, memory problems, and broke into hives quite often.

He left the Army soon after Marlon was born, his son from his first wife. Marlon had black hair, just like his mother. He met Marlon’s mom in Killeen, after he came back from Iraq. She was what they called a dependapotamus, one of those women that hung around base, mooching off soldiers. She was about 10 years older than James when they met. He never really liked her, but he slept with her a lot. So did some of the other guys in his unit. James was never sure Marlon was his, but he married her, when he found out she was pregnant. With his dishonorable discharge for cocaine, Marlon’s mom ran off to find another sucker.

Marlon lived in the house with James and Mollie. He had a part time job at Kutzer Body shop, but made good side money selling meth. Marlon was smart enough, but apathetic. They’d lived in the house for about two years. James’ grandmother left him the house when she died, because he had the two kids. The house was a welcome change from the little travel trailer they lived in before, out at his uncles place. After two years, however, the house was just as filthy. If James’ grandmother were still alive, she’d have a foot in his ass, about how they lived, White trash Appalachia style.

“Mollie, get your ass in here,” James yelled. Mollie complied. “Hey baby girl, why don’t you let daddy take you to school, its 7:30 you know.” Mollie always liked it when her dad took her to school. He never made her wear a helmet on the back of the Harley, which meant she could wear her hair in a ponytail and not have to waste a bunch of time fixing it. She had red hair. It wasn’t crazy red, but more like a red-blonde. She had green eyes too. She always loved her green eyes. Her daddy said those eyes were green like her mammas, and her mammas mamma. James pulled up in front of the school and revved the motor rapidly, over and over, making the exhaust scream. Mollie always like that motor revving thing too. “I love you Daddy, see you after school.” “I love you too, baby girl,” James said as he sped away, squealing the tire.

Mollie was born as Margret Jean Renshaw in Nov of 2002, in Austin. She was a Scorpio. Daddy always told her she was named after his grandmother, Margret Jean Mc Laine. MeMe McLaine was feisty, and drank whisky every day, but she worked hard as a house cleaning lady. She died of a heart attack at 78. Mollie took after her great-grandmother in some ways, but mostly she was like her mom. Mollie’s mom was smart enough to know how to manage her temper and easily acted cynically, manipulating others to get what she wanted. That’s why she pissed off the Bandito, who raped her out of spite.

Ding, clickity, cling, was the notification sound Mollie set for Facebook messenger, but in school she just set visual notifications on. She didn’t notice the message from Joel about the dime bag he scored. Joel was her guy friend. He hooked her up with weed sometimes. Joel’s older brother had a friend named Miguel. One time, Joel walked in on his brother and Miguel making out so Miguel always gave Joel some weed, so he wouldn’t say anything to Joel’s parents.

In first period Mollie was in Texas History class. All seventh graders in Texas have to take Texas history. Her teacher was Amy Whitecotton. Ms. Whitecotton was 5’3. A heavy set brunette. She didn’t like kids or teaching. She taught for five years at Bruce Elementary in Houston’s 5^th Ward. Under Bush’s No Child Left Behind, she was able to apply to the inner city program and the federal government paid off her school loans. On the condition she worked in the inner city for five years. Her husband worked for KBR (Kellog Brown and Root) and made the real money. With the no-bid government contracts and the 2^nd Iraq War, he cleaned house. But KBR close up its offices in the 5^th ward in 2010 and he was laid off.

Hayden dropped a note off at Mollie’s desk, just as the bell rang. It was folded up in the normal fashion of a young boy who’d never gift wrapped any boxes for Christmas. Hayden had a big crush on Mollie, but felt stupid and inadequate. He finally got the courage to tell her, but since he didn’t know her Snapchat name, he went old school with the note. His mom suggested the note. She’d come in from her shift at “The Office”. The Office was the name of the bar where she worked. The local guys bought her drinks and shots, most nights. On the night she suggested to Hayden to write the note, she was extra drunk. Her “love”, unrequited love, stopped in earlier that day, on his way back from the sale barn. That’s what sent her in the downward spiral that night. Every night she had a different excuse for getting drunk.

“Hayden, if you like this girl Mollie, you need to tell her. You don’t know, she probably likes you too,” his mom told him as she took a long drag from her Marlboro light. “Just write her a note, boy.” “But Mom, that’s not how it works these days,” Hayden tried to explain. His mom quit listening. Her eyes light up when she’d received a text from Jake. Jake was at the bar earlier and wanted to stop by later to “hook up”. Hayden walked down the hall of the trailer to his room. He knew his mom met guys at night, while he was sleeping. Hayden’s dad hadn’t been around for about five years. Note since the night when the cops came. Hayden was scared that night with everyone screaming, so he just quit remembering exactly what happened.

Hayden didn’t know it, but Cooper saw him drop of the note to Mollie. Cooper was instantly furious, an almost uncontrollable rage. He wanted to jump right out of his chair and whip Hayden’s ass, but Ms. Whitecotton called the class to attention. Ms. Whitecotton took attendance, so the State could get paid. When she called out Cooper’s name he was so mad he couldn’t talk. “Cooper, Cooper,” she said. “Hey boy, you got wax in your ears,” she said, looking at him with those squinty eyes and fat face. Cooper threw his books on the floor and jumped up, flipping over his desk. One of the kids in the back of the room pulled out is iPhone and started filming. “Get your ass out of my class you little shit head,” Ms. Whitecotton yelled. She’d gotten in trouble for cussing at kids before, but didn’t care. Ms. Whitecotton was having an affair with the PE coach, whose brother was the Superintendent, so she never got into any real trouble.

She grabbed Cooper and drug him out of the classroom, as he tried to take a swing at her. “Fuck you, I hate you,” Cooper yelled while being drug down the hall. The principal was in awe. He was standing in the hallway, watching the action. He’d just texted Ms. Billings about a lunch date. “I’ll be having you for lunch,” he texted, smiling as he pushed send. “Hey, boy, what the hell is wrong with you?” the principal yelled. Ms. Whitecotton handed Cooper off to the principal and began walking back to her class. Cooper got drug all the way into the principal’s office.

The principal, Mr. McGrath had recently been promoted to principal of Clinton Junior High. He’d always lusted after power but lacked real ambition. He only took the job to increase his status in the community. He cared about kids, but was more interested in using his position to influence single moms to sleep with him. He had always lusted after women. Mr. McGrath didn’t really understand how to deal with kids like Cooper.

Cooper could have been a good kid. He was smart, but angry. He lived out at the youth home on the edge of town. Cooper didn’t know much about his real parents. He’d been in a few foster homes, the type of foster homes that just foster kids to get income from the State. Every time things seemed to be working out, he’d get put in a new foster home. For some reason, it was always around his birthday. Finally when he was eleven, he ended up at the youth home. The older kids he roomed with took the little things he really cared about. The signed rookie card from Matt Harrison, who pitched for the Texas Rangers in 2011 World Series, they took that. He got that card when he lived in the foster home up in Colleyville. Some business men sent local kids to the game and he got selected. They also took his Tony Romo bobble head. He always liked that thing. Probably because it was given to him by Aunt Julie’s brother Michael.

Cooper always called his foster moms, Aunt. Michael took him cruising around in his truck some times. He was always throwing beer bottles at signs, on the backroads around Weatherford, just west of Fort Worth, blaring Pat Green on the CD changer. Micheal picked up the bobble head at the Pilot truck stop on I-30, along with two, twelve packs of Bud Light bottles.

Mr. McGrath hung up the phone with the house parents from the youth home. He wanted to see what should to be done with Cooper. They really didn’t know either, but gave McGrath permission to give Cooper swats. “Cooper, I’m going to swat you three times bud, so get ready to take what you got coming,” McGrath said. Getting swats wasn’t nothing to Cooper. He was used to it. He reveled in the pain. It wasn’t real pain. Not like the time when Aunt Christi’s boyfriend beat him with a 2x4 in Midlothian, because he didn’t fill up the ice trays. He was nine then. Cooper still had a scar on his forehead from that whippin.

“Okay, Mr. McGrath, do what you got to do, I’m ready,” Cooper said as he bent over the desk. Mr. McGrath swatted him three times. Cooper laughed a little inside, but mad a sad face when he turned to face McGrath. “Copper, you can’t be acting like this! Now get on down to the cafeteria for lunch.” McGrath said.

Mollie and Joel were sitting at the lunch table. “Mollie, did you get my message?” Joel said. “Nah, what you talking bout?” Mollie replied. “I scored some weed from Miguel, wanta go smoke after school?” he said. “Sounds good to me, I’m pretty stressed. Something was wrong with Dad this morning,” she said as her voice drifted away. Joel gave her his extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Mollie never really ate lunch, or brought one. James never had money to give her, so someone always brought extra. Today it was Joel.

Mollie was looking across at the commotion on the other side of the cafeteria. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but a group of kids had gathered around Hayden and Cooper. The kids were yelling and cheering. She never read the note that Hayden had left at her desk. The note that told her how much he liked her and how beautiful he thought she was. She intended to, but with Cooper throwing his desk upside down, she got side tracked. And, she couldn’t read it now, because she couldn’t find it.

“Hayden, after school, I’m going to kick your ass!” Cooper said as he glared. Hayden was shocked. He couldn’t figure out why Cooper was so pissed off. “Hey man, what the hell are you talking about?” Hayden replied, somewhat taken aback. “Mollie is my girl bro, I saw you drop off that note, with the little heart on it.” Cooper said. Hayden was pissed. He didn’t think anyone saw him drop off the note. He was probably more embarrassed, but he didn’t have a way to distinguish the difference. “Alright, bro, where you wanta get your whippin?” Hayden asked. “Across the street from school, over on those hay bales, by the tractor, I’ll see you.” Cooper responded.

Cooper didn’t have any “claim” on Mollie. He’d never even told her he liked her. He just decided he did, and figured she knew it. Mollie didn’t really know who Cooper was, except that he was the weird kid, who was mad a lot. Mollie was at that age where, she knew boys were interested in her, but she wasn’t sure just why. She viewed all boys as just any other person, just like her friend Joel or her girlfriend Hannah. Hannah and Mollie were in the Girl Scouts about two years ago. But Mollie didn’t come back to the meetings last year, after Marlon’s girlfriend died.

Through the rest of the afternoon at school, there were whispers of the big fight that was supposed to happen between Hayden and Cooper. It spread through the seventh grade like wildfire, and even the eighth graders caught wind of it: a big fight across the street from school, on the property owned by the PE coach’s dad, Mr. Trevino. Mr. Trevino had baled hay on the 100 acres across the street from the new school since he was a young kid. He father and his father before him did the same. Actually the land the school was built on, and most of where the town was built had at one time been owned by the Trevino family. As far as Mr. Trevino could remember and the family lore said that “The Trevino Family” owned that land, since the time of the Spanish. The “lore” was probably made up, but the Trevino’s had a lot of land, so it could have been true.

The last bell rang at 15:45 on Wednesday November 25^th, 2015, for Clinton Junior High. It was time for Thanksgiving break.

Euforia dels Cims - 2019 - Take Two

   
  I started writing a long ass blog, but I did not feel like completing it. So here is take two.

What is Euforia dels Cims:
   
Ultra Raid in the Principality of Andorra by inseparable team of two people in semi-autonomy under the full moon.

• 233 k (145 mi.) 20,000 meters (12,427 mi.) of elevation gain and 20,000 meters (12,427 mi.) of elevation loss
• Departure from Ordino town centre on Wednesday on the morning and finish in Ordino town centre
• 5 peaks upon 2,900 meters
• 32 peaks or passes between 2,500 and 2,900 meters
• Average altitude: 2,200 meters
• 4 refreshment points (in the 4 accommodation areas) + arrival
• A single dropbag (offered by the organization) transported from accommodation area to accommodation area
• Briefing attendance is compulsory
• Without marking of the path
• The runners have a track
• GPS tracker put at the disposal of every runner to allow theonline following
• Euphoric panoramic views, some technical zones
• The most spectacular feature: peaks, passes and path in crests allowing views 360 on all the massif of Pyrenees (the North of Spain and the region Midi-Pyrénées in France)
• The most technical section: descent in rocky blocks or masses of fallen rocks

Why Euforia: 
    
     I don't like contrived "hard stuff" such as Spartan races, Survial Runs, Death Races, gimmick events, etc... I don't like the trend in ultrarunning where everyone thinks they need 10 pacers and 50 crew members. Euforia is pure. It's you and your partner and the mountains. No babysitting, no hand holding. Hours on your feet with out support, etc.. But the biggest appeal is the mountains, pure and simple.

How Do You Know You're Ready:

      Basically, you don't.  I wasn't sure when I got on the plane, but I saddled up anyway.

How Do You Prepare:

      You can't prepare in one season. It takes may experiences to have the right frame of mind to be successful.  Events like Vol State, the Salsa Walk 100K or 200K, Nolan's 14 Scouting, our Camino Santiago in 16.5 days trek last year, Hardrock or similar, Infinitus 888K.  The multi-day events with continuous clock really bring you valuable experience to prepare.

What Does Success in Euforia Look Like:

     Finishing of course, but beyond that, is character.  Did you make friends? Did you help your neighbor? Did you allow your neighbor to help you? Did you give into your struggle and act out, or did you accept your fate and continue forward?

What Was the Biggest Lesson You Learned:

     The lesson is always patience and acceptance.  However in this sense, its not over in 30 or 36 hours, it's 4 days or more. If you let the mountains come to you and unfold, without expectation, accepting each climb as it's presented, then you can always have the strength necessary for what's coming next.

What's Next:

     I'd like to give Tor des Geants a shot, PTL (Petite Trotte à Léon), and go back and finish the Nolan's 14 line. 

Barkley Fall Classic - 4th Finish

     I must have run the Fall Classic Saturday.  I can tell because I'm gimping around everywhere I walk and I can't squat to the toilet or get into my car. 
     My feet are fine. No blisters, thanks to Trail Toes.  But my glutes, hammies, quads, calves are all revolting.  They are pissed off.  
     Gina, Kyle, and I rolled into Rugby, TN Friday afternoon.  We checked into the Pioneer Cottage, our place we have stayed the last 4 years.  We then drove over to Wartburg for the packet pickup and map review.  
      We were able to say hellos and chat with friends!  Tim gave us the low down on the course for this year.  This year we were to go up the North Bird Mountain Trail, to the Jeep road, across 116, to the power line.  Down Testicle Spectacle to the Church.  Then back up and over down meth lab hill to the prison.  The up Rat Jaw to the fire tower.  The big rule of staying in the power line cut on these sections of power lines was going to be enforced, strictly this year.  Once we reached the fire tower,then we were to head to the Garden Spot, along the North Boundary trail, to Jury Ridge, Phillips Creek, and down Bird Mountain Trail, to the yellow gate, and the last section was the same, the Chimney Top trail to Spicewood and back to the finish. Basically, the first two sections were flip-flopped from previous years.  
     This course change was a bit diabolical, as we were to soon find out Saturday morning. 
We arrived at the start area about an hour before the start.  Unlike last year when we arrived, 10 minutes before the start. 
     My plan to was run hard until we hit the trail, so I could get in front of the main group, trying to be in the top 30 or so. So that is what I did.  However, the North Bird Mountain Trail is "runnable" if you are pretty fit, so every one kept on running.  So, John did as well. After about 30 minutes into the race I told myself, "John if you don't start taking some walk breaks, you are going to blow up."  So, I started to take some walk breaks.  We finally got to Tub Springs aid station!  But being as it's all down hill to the highway, we had to run that section fast a hell too.  You don't want to be stuck behind the conga line of folks going down Testicle who don't know where they are going and haven't protected themselves from the briars.  
     I chatted a bit with a nice dude, who had just done the Breckenridge Spartan Ultra Beast and placed fifth.  But, was like, hey man, we gotta run!  
     Once we reached the highway, We had a nice hill to walk up, going towards Fodderstack and the power line of Testicle.  We turned left and i pulled the work gloves out of my pack.  I was already wearing calf sleeves, arm sleeves,  and tights that covered my knees. I told the Spartan race guy who was with me, "This is where the race starts, follow me."  
     I started bombing down the hill, slipping, sliding, and busting new heart rate highs.  At about the 3rd section, I ran smack into a small conga line of about 10 folks.  I said, "On your left."  But they didn't want to move.  One guy says, "Hey man, we are in a line here, you need to wait."  I said, "Naw bruh, we gotta move."  It was clear they were not sure where to go or how to get there, so I just blew past them.  Basically that put me in about the top 8 to 10 or so.  
     Things went well until just before the sign to turn left to the church and the second aid station.  I got this killer cramp in my right calf, and had stop.  The cramp was so bad, my foot was cramping.  All those folks started passing me.  I downed like 4 S-Caps.  
     I had two problems.  1. It was so hot and humid I was sweating my balls off and 2, those calf sleeves were cutting off circulation to my calves.  Mostly because my calves are so dammed big, the calf sleeves barely fit.  
     I got to the church just in front of those folks though, because they inclined right of the proper azmiuth, and I dropped to the creek and went up the creek bed for a bit and then to the road.  The map didn't show us having to go exactly to the road.  Either way, We all left together, but I started cramping on the inside of both thighs, as we were climbing back up tot the power line.  
     I needed to back off a little bit, but I know that to be successful at this race, you gotta put the hammer down, and never let up.  I made it back up to Armes Gap and dropped down Meth Lab Hill, towards the prison.  I was recovering from the cramping but was still pretty border line. 
     Once I reached the prison, we were able to get more water and I hit up some more S-Caps.  However, by the time I got to the ladder to go over the wall, my inside thighs started cramping again.  I didn't want to get on the ladder, because I didn't want to cramp up and fall off the dammed ladder.  I paused a bit, climbed over, cramped a bit and sat down on the other side and talked with Keith for a minute or so.  
     With the cramping subsiding, and a few more S-Caps, I went into the tunnel and sat down in the water, to cool off my legs.  That seemed to do the trick.  So I started up Rat Jaw.  I could see large group of folks above me, prob 15 or so, in another conga line, picking their way through the briars.  My first instinct was a to start hauling ass up the hill, but thought it would be better to keep a more steady relaxed pace and just wait until I catch them. 
     Just before where the power line turns left, I caught that pack, and went around them and started breaking trail.  The group splintered for a bit, but came back together, behind Rob Youngren, after we went over the capstone.  By this time, there were about 50 runners in the conga line, and I was somewhere about #8.  
     One guy reached the fire tower about 10 minutes before the whole conga line, and it was said they saw him taking unfair advantage by going under the trees to the left.  I don't know who that guy was.  
     Anyway, we reached the crowd of folks at the fire tower and began climbing up to get our punch.  As we were going back down the stairs, I thought, "Man I gotta haul ass back to Tub Springs, because I don't want to get caught behind all these folks at the aid station."  I really needed to make some shoe adjustments, but took off anyway. 
     I got to Tub Springs in good shape, got my water filled up, drank some Sword and was finally able to remove those dammed calf sleeves, arm sleeves, and put them all away in my pack with the heavy as soaking wet, leather gloves.  
     Onward we went up to Coffin Springs, over the gate, towards the Garden Spot.  About half way there is an old coal road that goes off to the right and some folks were wondering which way to go.  Little did I know,  a shit ton of those folks behind me, went down that coal road.  Which explains why only like 3 persons passed me from Garden Spot to the Yellow Gate.  Oh well.  
     I got the punch from Mike at the Garden Spot, after watching the eventual second place guy, run up the uphill to the Garden Spot.  I was thinking, "Shit, this guy is running this part, got dammit."  I busted my ass as we left there and got on the CT, where it's got the white blazes on the trees, in the top Northeast corner of the park.  But it was a quick recovery.  
     As I was running downhill, I was thinking, "Jeeze my feet are sliding around in my shoes and I need to tighten them up at the aid station."  Well, about 30 seconds later I took a hard tumble/fall and started cramping real bad again in my inner thighs.  I thought it would be best to go ahead and tighten up my shoes, now. So I did that and about 15 runners went by. Great!!! 
     I got up and ran to the coal ponds and wasn't looking and missed the left turn on to the true North Boundry Trail / North Bird Mountain Trail with the orange blazes.  No problem though, I knew it was wrong and turned around right away.  
     We cruised over to the Squire Knob aid station for our punch.  I counted the runners, and there were 11 in front of me, and about 4 at the aid station.  I made quick work of the aid station, but prob drank 3 bottles of water and one of Sword before leaving with two full bottles of Sword.  At around Phillips Creek, I was finally able to take a piss.  And boy it was yellow.  The eventual women's winner passed me just under the ridge before we met back up with the Cumberland Trail. 
     I cruised down the 12 or 13 switchbacks to the yellow gate, but stopped and got some water at the spigot at Big Cove Campground.  Some guy said I was in 8th place, and I figured that was prob about right.  
     I got into the aid station where Laz sends you out for the 3rd and last part of the course, but lost time dicking around with my water bladder.  I had put carbo pro powder in there before hand, but the tube got stopped up.  Really pissed me off.  I also had a hard time finding my drop bag with my poles, which after I got back on the trail, I thought, it was stupid to use them because they weren't truly necessary.  
     Tim Dines and I hiked up to Chimney Top but I was feeling weak and shitty.  I ate some fig newton style of bar at the aid station and it was causing me stomac upset.  So I stopped to throw up for a bit.  Tim took off.  
     Basically on the whole last section, I saw Tim and that was it.  I did finally catch Tim after stopping to chat with Kyle and Larry at the last aid station, on my way into the finish.  I passed Laz again and had just the short road section to go.  I thought for sure I'd catch at least one runner.  However, all the runners I passed were marathon finishers who either didn't make the cutoff, or didn't want to do the Chimney Top.  I did still haul ass all the way in.  However, I was 8 minutes slower than last year.  
     I milled around afterwards waiting on Gina to finish, ate my ribeye sandwich, talked with friends, drank some beer, vodka, and whisky. Gina finished about 12 and a half hours.  
     Kyle drove us back to Rugby where we all slept in, before driving back to Nashville on Sunday.  In  Nashville we had a great time Sunday afternoon.  We went to Printers Alley, to the Burbon Street Blues and Boogie Bar.  Then to Merchant's for drinks, fried green tomatoes, and pimento cheese.  Then to Rodizio Brazlian Grill, for all you can eat meat and a 36$ bottle of 8$ wine.  Afterwards, we stopped over at Legends Corner for a night cap, then an Uber Ride back to the hotel!  
    It was another successful weekend in Tennessee!  Gina and I have both finished the race 4 times, the whole 50K.  There are 7 of us left who have completed all 4, The Magnificent Seven.   Next year, I'm going to sign up as Yule Brenner.  The Pioneer Cottage reservations have been made.  If we finish next year, then Steve has a special award for us!  For the 5th year!  
     Now recovery!  Then more, Vert! More Miles. Get faster!

John's Kaihōgyō

     UPDATE: 10/30/2017 - This will not be taking place this year.


What does Kaihōgyō mean?  It translates into English as, circling the mountain.   The wiki entry is here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaih%C5%8Dgy%C5%8D


     I've been enamored with this idea for a few years.  I spoke with Gina about it in 2014 after reading John Stevens book: The Marathon Monks of Mount Hiei.  

     I'm not looking for enlightenment per se, but discipline.  So these monks in Japan do a 100 days of a certain mileage going from temple to temple saying prayers, etc..  They do this for seven years and there is quite a bit of other things invovled that you can read about on the wiki entry. 
      I'll be turning 40 years old in November and I want to do something that is or seems impossible.  Because who knows how many years I have left on this rock.  

Enter, John's Kaihōgyō.

What does this look like for me?  It looks like this.  I am planning on starting Oct 30th 2017 and will finish 100 days later on Feb 6th 2018.  What will I do?  I plan to abstain from alcohol, tobacco and caffeine.  I started back on snuff a few months ago, so I'll be quit before this starts and will start tapering caffeine at the beginning in Oct.  I've already stopped alcohol, so hopefully I can maintain since my goal is no alcohol until Sept 2018.  Here is the rest of my plan:

40K a day running/walking with 5K a day of vert (vert will be achieved on the TM)
40K a day on indoor bike trainer*
10K a day on indoor rower*
100 thrusters @ 95lbs*
100 Deadlifts @ 185lbs*
100 Kettlebell swings*
100 Burpees
100 pushups
100 situps
10 minutes of planks
40 pullups

Basically, this will be 6 to 7 hours a day of  "working out".

I have 2.5 months to buildup to this, so that is what I'll be working on.  From now until then.

I don't really know if I can actually do this, but outside of my "El Camino de Lavaca Pilgrimage" Dec 4th - 10th my schedule is open and I have purposely kept it so.  I wasn't sure if I would really commit to this, but I think that I need this in my life.  The items above with * may get skipped on the El Camino days, but I'll see about having these brought to me each day so I can keep my goal.  If not, 93 days of the above is still killer.

Wish me luck, I'm going to need it.

Looking Ahead into 2018

Gonna be brief.

10 years ago I started running, one goal was to quit drinking and be a good runner.

10 years later and I'm mediocre at both.

August 1st 2018, Gina and I will be running the Trans Pyrenees.
http://www.transpyrenea.fr/important-info/roadbook/

This is the greatest challenge either of us have considered.  200K of vert, 535 mile, 20 days.

I want to be my best.

Also, I have a personal challenge of 880 mile bike ride across Texas in late Feb 2018.

Did I mention the 888K Infinitus as well in 2018? I'm signed up for that.
http://www.endurancesociety.org/infinitus.html

I don't know if I can complete any of these 3 adventures.

But I do know, that if I want a shot, I gotta be better.

From Nov 1 to 100 days later, I will run 20 miles per day. 

I have to get ready.

I will not drink any alcohol until Sept 2018, starting Aug 1 2017. 

I'm working on some diet options as well, but will up veggies and reduce meat.

Wish me luck.  Long road ahead.

The Flavian Amphitheatre or Amphitheatrum Lazaruium

     In the modern era, none of us are competing in the arena before an emperor or throngs of cheering Romans.  Although it's very clear that Big's Backyard is not "The Coliseum", it is "a coliseum."  Laz is no Titus, however one could imagine him to be an emperor of sorts as well.  What's ironic is someone using a nom de guerre of Hebrew origin, celebrating a race cast in the historical context of a "gladiatorial fight to the death", when it was the imperial Roman Flavian dynasty who not only built "The Coliseum" but also destroyed the Jewish Second Temple.  Laz has put together a simple concept in a race, with no gimmicks.  For anyone who's ever said they will never quit, please come to this event.  This is no obstacle course race with faux challenges.  This race is the most authentic spectacle imagined in regards to one's will to continue.
     The concept is very simple.  At the start of the hour all the runners start running a 4.166 mile loop, and must complete that loop every hour. At the start of the second hour, this process is repeated again, and again.  You must answer the bell each time, at the start time, or you are out.  Every one is in first place at the start of each hour.  This process continues until every one quits, except the last man (or woman).  It's only 4 miles per hour.  A 15 minute pace.  Anyone in decent shape can run a 15 min pace right?  If you've ever read Stephen King's "The Long Walk" then this idea is even more intriguing. 
     We started with 46 souls who, with steely determination, vowed to be the last man or woman standing.  I mean, with the inspirational shirt we were given, how could we not be inspired?  This is a re-print of the painting by Jean-Leon Gerome called Thumbs Down, or Pollice Verso.

     This event was scheduled to start at 0700, but Laz and crew decided to start it at 0645 to give the last daytime loop the max amount of light.   Materially it does not matter when it starts, you have 60 minutes to complete each loop.  At 0645 Laz rang the bell.  We sauntered off in the typical ultra-marathon way.  Which basically means there were a few claps and half the field began walking.
     To the Mike's great entertainment along with Laz and Bill, the race had begun.  I venture to guess that there were many side bets made throughout the day.  Who would be first out, who would be out on loop 4, etc...  I could only run.  I ran with a Garmin for the first few loops to make I knew where the mile splits were and the time that I should be at them.
     The Start of the trail loop had a short out n back on the road, which would take me about 5min.  Mile 1 was just past the log that you had jump over once you ran down hill from the Big house and turned hard left. About even with a big, round hay bale on your right, close to the fence.  You needed to be at the Big house at 55min after the hour and at 57 min after, the hay bale.  Mile 1.  Mile 2 was where a big rock was in the middle of the trail, after you passed the cave and crossed a dry creek.  That needed to be 11 min after the hour.  Mile 3 was where the lolly pop completes the circle and you run the handle back to the Big house, to the start.  You needed to be there at 24 min after the hour. Back to the Big house at 35 min after the hour.  If you did this, you could have 4 to 5 min to spare between loops.  As you can see from my splits here.  I was running about a 13:15 mile pace.   Not too fast, but not too slow.  Here is what the loop looked like. Based on my level of training since the end of June, that's the best I could do.  And really, why do you need 10 min to stand around every hour?
     As Loop 1 progressed into Loop 2 and so on, one by one, and slowly our motley crew began to dwindle.  Some of the runners, it was very evident that they would not last long.  Whereas others, when they were no longer running, you felt a bit bad for them.  Around loop 6 or 7 I tried to lure some folks into a mental trap.  On the out n back, I said loudly, to no one in particular, but hoping anyone would take the bait, "Man it sure is hot, I bet one of you just want to quit.  Prob just tired, huh?"  No one really took the bait on my trolling, but one guy mentioned he agreed about the heat.  I made a joke about why the devil don't live in Texas.  He don't live there because once he came to visit and was upset about the heat and went on back home.  Many woes befell each person.  Some may have had to poop, some may not have been able to keep the pace, some were laid to waste due to hydration or electrolyte issues. Some lesser men, stubbed their toe. :)  By the end of Loop 12, there were only 18 runners remaining of the original 46.  39% of the runners remained after only a measly 50 very slow miles. 
     We started Loop 13, with 18 jovial souls who may have been confident that they would, in fact, be around when the sun came up.  Still standing.  However, this fate was not to be.  I watched loop 13 and 14 pass, sizing up the remaining runners.  This road loop, was an out n back style, so you could see every runner.  It was dark and almost no one wore a headlamp. Until the moon actually rose, it was hard to make everyone out, exactly.  I noticed two runners, one male and the other female, running fast, way out front.  It just didn't make sense to me.  Why would the run so fast when they didn't have to?  I mentioned this to one of my compadres, and noted with glee, "By loop 22, the 10th road loop, the lady runner would be out."  I had numerous friends that were out there.  In the dark, shuffling, running.  I did not feel bad, except for my left Achilles tendon, and a blister on my right foot that developed on about loop 9 or so. 
     Gina crewed me all day, and had done so in 2014, the first time I tried this event.  She's basically a champ.  Every loop, every time, she had what I needed.  Mashed potatoes. Nobody can mash instant potatoes like my woman.  And she had 1.5 scoops of Carbo Pro, .5 scoops of Vitargo in a 20oz bottle.  I used the Clutch and the Amp soft bottle handhelds from UD.  The Amp sucks, the Clutch is good. Every loop, I'd be like, "Did you salt these potatoes?"  She'd be like, "Yea, I put a bunch."  No matter what she said, I said, "Gimme that salt shaker." Then I'd put salt on those potatoes until they glistened in the sunlight.  We bought Velveta cheese to put in the potatoes, but it made me puke so, no more queso.  I was fortunate that the Mike's kept her entertained between loops and her preparing for the next loop, or it would be tough to get her to help me, other than the fact that she loves me and that feeling is mutual.  Basically, crewing for this event is bullshit.  I'd never do that. I hate crewing.  I'm a selfish basterd.  
     I'd been dealing with plantar issues on my right foot  IT band issues on my left knee since late June.  So the night before the race I did a crap ton of myofasical release work.  During the inter-loopal period, I'd try to release my psoas, my glute med, and piriformis with a foam roller and other devices.  Also, I had Gina push my ankles to my ears while lying on my back.  Of course the Mike's got some nice laughs out of this move.  All of these techniques kept me going, so I'm not going to complain. 
     Out on the road we pined for the Sun.  May the God Apollo, lay his rays up us so that we awake from this nightmarish dream. This dream of never ending out n backs.  We lost many friends in the night.  The fast lady runner on loop 22, her beau on loop 20. Among others.  But not until the middle of the 24th loop did Apollo's chariot begin to make it's way across the sky.  At this time and since the end of loop 22, there had only been 4 weary travelers on the road.  In reality there were 4 travelers, two weary and two ripe as spring chickens.  Myself, I was a weary traveler. 
     Starting loop 25 us weary few, "band of brothers" answered the bell.  As John Donne graciously reminds us, "We asked not for whom the bell tolls, it tolled for thee."   I almost did not complete this loop. I knew I was done for.  But, a remaining spark, a faint spark, grew into a conflagration inside of me and I thought to myself, "I'm not going to time out on this lap."  With 17 min and a mile to go, I ran and did not stop until I reached the timing mat with 2.5 min to spare.  As heroic as I felt, within the next 25 min all was changed.  Loop 26 at about 2 miles in, I sat on a rock. I fell asleep briefly.  I woke up the instant that I fell asleep, walked to the next rock.  Just past the cave.  I sat on that rock and immediately fell asleep again.  I reversed the course, took off my bib, and walked in.  I ended up with 4th place and 25 loops.  In 2014, I ran 29 loops.  However, I was not disappointed.  This year, the race ended on loop 29.

What is Ultrarunning to You?

     This post is really a "call for comments" and maybe a bit more.  Some of us have been running/ultrarunning for 10 years, some for 5 and some for 20 or more.  What is enough?  Is 5K enough?  If you've run 100 miles numerous times, is that enough?  What is the next thing?  After 7 or 8 years do you, or have you thought, "Man WTF am I doing? Why am I still doing this?" 
     You got some runners that 5k is enough and they do them for 20 years, and thats just fine. Maybe they jump into a marathon or half from time to time.  Then you got some folks who run around for 6 days or 200 miles or walking for 100K etc...  It seems that there is no satiation to their quest of achievements.  Some folks take up the "next challenge" because it it truly challenging, and sometimes it's because everyone else has done it, so I want this on my bucket list. 
     Then there are folks who try to court sponsorship claiming that because of X,Y,Z factors, they are the most awesome and they have this story.  Whether it's contrived or not, I will leave it up to the reader to interpret.  Still others just go about their bad ass achievements and they aren't seeking any limelight.  They just deliver, and everyone else can stand there, agape.
     Where do you want your running to take you? To what end and for what purpose?  Is running the end you seek, or some other end?  Can you achieve them with out the fan fare and hoopla?  Does anyone even give two shits? 

Squashed Plans

     The last time I wrote in this blog I told about how I planned to do a canoe race and to ride my bicycle across Texas.  Well, both plans are squashed. I figured out by the end of Feb that the canoe race was not going to fit into my schedule.  I wanted it, too.  For some reason my pickup truck quit running, so I worked on it a bit and couldn't get it figured out. With the truck not running, it's pretty hard to haul a dammed canoe around in my G37. 
      The canoe race was not a big loss.  If I wanted to spend the money, I could have got the truck going but decided that I would table the boat race idea. I had slowly started dumping money into the bike anyway and didn't want to be carrying around a ton of debt.  One of my side goals is to be completely out of debt by 41 including the house.  So, no big deal. 
      The bike ride training was going good all the month of February and things seemed to be on track.  I even rode 150 miles down to almost Port Aransas.  I needed to get new shoes because the shoes I had were too narrow and were making my feet go numb if I rode for more than a few hours. 
       After the new shoes and cleats came in, I figured I should go and get fitted, since I don't know shit about cycling shoes and cleats.  I did that, and right away in early March I developed an IT band issue in my left knee.  After about 200 miles, I went to a different place which does fittings on a computer with some software.  I feel better, but the IT band is still nagging me.
      Reluctantly, I've decided to reschedule my bike ride across Texas until late October or early November this year.  Luckily I was able to change my plane tickets and not take a hit on those.  My most import goal of the year is another attempt at Nolan's 14, so I will be focusing on hiking and running from now on out. 
      After about 30 days, I'm hoping that I can get back on the bike with no knee pain and can work that cross-training into my schedule.  Ultra-marathons and mountains are what I like the most, so I'm eager to get started on my incline treadmill hiking.  I even broke out the hypoxico machine and did 30 minutes on it today as well. My diet is slowly taking shape; I'm hoping to finally get down to a weight which is conducive to hiking up 14'ers. 
      It is not always the case that one lays out plans and those plans come together.  I thinks it's all for the best.  I hate cycling anyway.  If you think walking for 24 hours is boring, try riding in a canoe for 24 hour or more. 

Two Goals Till June

     I figured since I don't know much about cycling and even less about canoeing, why not try some epic adventures regarding these activities.  Two goals I have this year are to ride my bicycle across Texas and complete the Texas Water Safari. 
     For the cycling, I spoke with the owner of Action Bikes here in town. I'm sure he thinks I'm crazy, but I've dropped my bike off at his shop to get it fixed up with the things I need.  Such items as, lights, hand pump, good tires, and a rack of some sort.  Who knows what else.  I mentioned this idea to some friends who told me about two separate cycling groups, the Hill Country Randonneurs and the San Antonio Wheelmen. These groups have rides of various distances, so I guess I will link up with them.  I picked up a bike trainer off Amazon so I'll do some riding each day during the week as well.
     I'm not sure how long it will take to ride across Texas, but the distance from New Mexico to Louisiana, is about 860 miles. I plan on starting at Sunland Park Racetrack and Casino and ending after I cross the state line at Orange, TX. After a some training I think I should be able to ride about 200 miles a day.  We'll see.  So about 5 days.  I plan on going Vol State style with little sleeping, etc...  Riding across the state just sounds like a cool adventure, so I'm in.
     The canoeing is another animal all together.  I don't know shit about canoeing.  I do know one of the guys here around town that has done the race 5 or 6 times and I was able to link up with him this weekend.  He was a wealth of information.  I'll be trying to link up with him as the year progresses and do some training runs.  In the immediate future, I'll be taking a canoe out on Town Lake.  I'm a member of the Texas Rowing Center and they have canoes to rent.

:::::::--------  Update, I started this blog a few weeks back. So as way leads on to way, already there have been changes.

Cycling - I got the bike back from the shop.  Rode pretty good over the last two weekends with a big weekend planned this weekend as well. 
Canoeing - I have a "learn to paddle" class scheduled for Saturday in San Marcos, TX which I'll ride my bike to and from.  About 70 miles.  I linked up with a dude who rents canoes, and has finished the race like 35 times.  After the paddling lesson, I'll go check out what he has for rent. 

Training -  What I'm doing?  Quite a bit actually.  I'm not at 100% of my target goals, but here is what I'm striving for.

0400 - Wake up, foam roll light stretch. Breathing exercise with Expand-A-Lung.
0430 to 0730 - 1.5 hrs on TM walking at incline.  3K row, 3K ski erg, 3k ft Versa Climber. Easy 3 miles with my dog to get her in shape for the summer. (or 1 hr bike) Various core exercies.
1130 to 1230 - Lunch - some rowing, ski erg VC, with heavy DL, GHD exercises and Heavy KB swings.
1700-2030 - Run. Spend some time at 90% max HR or above. Intervals, tempo, etc... Then 1 hour bike.  

Weekends until April will revolve around lots of cycling.   Up to 10 hrs in one day.  Some paddling, and vert training after April 

That's where I'm taking my training for now.   Doing a lot of twisting core work and Indian clubs for the shoulders.  Need to get in some push ups. 

These goals are totally out of my wheelhouse, but I like to do stuff that is challenging. I still have Nolan's 14 this year.  Three big goals for the year.  And if the cards play just right, a Hardrock to complete.  I'm a bit apprehensive, but that helps to sharpen my focus. 



 

Snowdrop 55 Hr: Loopity Loop Loop

     Over the holidays I was fortunate enough to run the Snowdrop 55Hr Solo event in Sugarland, TX.   The race started on Dec 30th and ran through Jan 1st.  I ended up with 100 miles and a sweet buckle in about 35 hours. At .74 miles per loop, it took 134 loops to make 100 miles.

     The buckle is pretty sweet.  I'd been saying for at least 3 weeks I didn't really want to run the event.  My training had been slipping since early November, so I was feeling fat and out of shape.  I felt good skinning up the mountain up in Steamboat over Christmas, but I wasn't feeling running around in circles for two and a half days.
     Originally, when I signed up, I thought I could run 200 miles. That was back in August or September.  Little did I know I'd be faced with some work issues.  In early November my employer laid off a number of folks.  Two from my team.  Some guys I'd known my whole career.  One was my old boss who I'd worked for directly for eight years.  I guess I took it a bit hard.
     My flight back from Colorado was cancelled early Monday the 28th of December after being delayed for about 8 hours.  I wasn't able to leave CO until Tuesday afternoon the 29th.  Once I arrived in San Antonio I had to pack, load up the dogs and drive to Houston Hobby Airport and pick up Gina which happened to be about 1AM the 30th of December.  About 6 hours before the race started.
     We arrived at the race venue about 0330.  Thankfully Vincent from Trail Toes had already set up the tent for us.  We knocked off a few hours and woke up to start the race with everyone at 0700.  After about 2 hours, I stopped to send a few work emails and take a nap.  Around 1130 I got back out on the course.
     Being totally tired did not help my disposition.  In the afternoon, I thought that since I had plenty of time I should go ahead and finish the book I was reading on my Kindle. I was reading The Revenant.  The movie comes out tomorrow night! I've already bought my ticket.  By dark I wasn't quite done with the book.  I'd gotten over the fact that I didn't want to be at the race, and decided I should run a bit.
     Through the night I slept two different times for about 4 hours total. I spent time running with Vincent, Dimitry, Kelley, and Will.  I spoke to Matt a bit about his upcoming attempt on the TIR 200 solo.  Also, Gina ran/walked a few laps.  The night drug on and on.  But finally the night yielded to the day.  I pulled the Kindle back out and finished my book.  Once it was done, I picked back up with Catch-22 but didn't finish reading that book.  Pretty hilarious book about military life.
     I had another book on my Kindle called "How to Run Faster with Less Effort" .  I joked with some folks, saying I'm reading this book so that I can learn some stuff. :)  I wasn't really reading it though.  I got a few laughs from folks with that joke.
     Finally the total number of loops reached 110, so only 24 more to go.  I ran a few fast ones with Joe Fejes, who set a 48 hr age group record and reached  250 total miles in 55 hours.  He's the real deal. The RD Kevin Kline is a great guy and made a big spectacle for everyone who reached 100 miles.  He spared no expense whooping everyone up when I finished my 100 miles.  Here is a pic of us with the buckle.

     All in all, Kevin puts on a world class event.  I had a great time.  The food was delicious, hot chow, and ultra food.  A nice warming tent with TV's playing football games.  I think that I will be back next year.  Nice place to chill and celebrate the running lifestyle I guess I've been living for some years now. Life could be worse. :)  I feel like I crossed another mental hurdle with this event.  One of just accepting and getting shit done.  Whether it be on a boring .74 mile loop or not.  Thankfully I had Gina to make sammiches and I didn't have any blisters or ball chaffing.
     

    

Dear Brother: The Johnny Walker Commercial

     With one view, and the hundred or so that have transpired since I'm not so sure whether it's the video or the poem that strikes me the most.  I had two step brothers growing up, one I knew better than the other.  But, neither well.  I substituted good friends in a brothers place over the years, and my commitment to them has never wavered, however that commitment may not always be prominent.  I'll let you flesh out your opinions:

Walking the roads of our youth,
Through the land of our childhood, our home, and our truth,
Be near me, guide me, always stay beside me so I can be free.
Free…
Let’s roam this place, familiar and vast,
Our playground of green frames, our past,
We were wanderers. Never lost, always home,
And every place was fenceless and time was endless.
Our ways were always the same.
Calm my demons and walk with me brother,
Until our roads lead us away from each other.
And if your heart’s full of sorrow, keep walking. Don’t rest.
And promise me from heart to chest to never let your memories,
Die. Never.
I will always be alive and by your side. In your mind,
I am free.

Grand Canyon 2015

     Have you ever been to the big ditch?  If not, you should go.  This was my 3rd trip. Once in 2011, 2014, and now 2015.  After 2011 I fell in love with this blonde beauty, who didn't return my affections.  However the last two times I went because of my step brother Jason.  But since we're not really step-brothers anymore, I'll just call him my brother.  Last year, he completed a Rim 2 Rim and took the shuttle back.  This year he went down South Kaibab to Cottonwood, Ribbon Falls, and back up the Bright Angel trail. 
     The "funny" thing about the Grand Canyon is that once you drop off the rim, you're fucked. Mostly because you gotta get back out, on your own.  And brother, it's killer.  This year was also special because my friend and confidant, Gina made the Rim2Rim2Rim trip with me.  After last year Jason wanted to go back and complete the whole enchilada.  However, due to work and kid obligations, he was not exactly ready for an out n back. Kinda like all of us who've aspired to run big. And do big stuff under the power of our own locomotion. 
     When we were kids we'd watch wrestling and then go out in the yard and wrestle for hours, to see who was a tuff mutha phuka.  Hacksaw Jim Dugan and Ric Flair, you know.  4 thousand horseman. hahah.  Can you say choke hold? 
     We parted ways at Cottonwood.  Gina and I up to the North Rim and Jason to Ribbon Falls and back out.  Gina and I ran like hell to make it to Phantom Ranch before last call which is at 1530, and we made it with 3 minutes to spare. We met up with a buddy named Jay who also ran with us at Vol State. Us three ran together from Supai Tunnel up to North Rim and back to South Rim via Bright Angel Trail.
     When the cashier at Phantom Ranch Canteen said, "You can't take those with you." After I ordered five Budweiser thirty minutes before close, I replied, "Yea bruh, I got this."  We also bought Gina a headlight since she forgot hers, again. 
     We reached the 3 mile water stop as I was singing George Strait and quoting lines from Cool Hand Luke.  We heard a faint voice, "Hey John, is that you?"  I replied, "Well yea bro. Who else would it be. You alright?"  Jason said, "Yea man, I'm good, just tired."  I sent Gina and Jay along and hung with Jason for a bit, checking on his status.  All was well. 
     The crux and crucible of the Grand Canyon was apparent.  We chatted and he said he was okay, so I went ahead.  Was he in a bind?  Gott dammed right he was.  But, it was his time.  He suffered with the best of anyone who's ever suffered doing big stuff. 
     About an hour after we topped out, here came Jason.  In my view, he got more out of the trip than we did.  He got to stare into the abyss, and come out the other side with a new found confidence in how much suffering he really can endure. 
     We hit the pizza place for shitty pizza and shittier service, and then made our way back to the room to finish off the Fireball and fall asleep.  The trip was awesome,  I mean, if you can excuse the shitty "Mexican" food we tried all over the state.  Hey Arizona, if you wanta learn how to cook, come to San Antonio.

Training into the 2016 Season - Year 3

     I'm going into my year three of serious running training. While it's true that I'm going into my 9th year of running, the first 6 I didn't really train much. My training years run from Sept to Sept.  It just worked out that I started running in Sept of 2007.  And, the mountain running season is during the summer so by Sept/Oct all the big mountain hundos are over.
      In the 2013-2014 running year I ran about 2300 miles give or take, and the 2014-2015 season I ran about 3200 give or take. This past year was a breakout year into the multi-day world and I had numerous 100 mile plus training weeks. So where am I going from here?
      For 2016 I really only have one priority and that is completing the Nolan's 14 line. Of course I will be putting in for Hardrock and Ronda dels Cims is on the table.  And I'll sign up for The Bear 100.  The Bear sign up is in case of no Hardrock or Ronda, I'll still need to keep a qualifier for the Hardrock lottery in 2017. 
      I was able to speak with a few pretty awesome running coaches this year and 3 things are evident.
1. I've got a huge aerobic base
2. I don't do any LT training.
3. My downhill running sucks.

     Doing my own research for myself and for my own clients I found some interesting information that I'll generalize here.  SkiMo, Rowers, and Cyclists train about 25 hours a week and generally have the highest Vo2 MAX. Runners train about 15 hours a week. How much time is spent in what zone etc.??  I didn't look to hard for that.  However, I'm firmly convinced that one needs to train for a long time and very consistently to cause significant eccentric growth of the left ventricle. And the majority of that time needs to be 80% or less max HR.  Based on this, I'm working this mix until Januarary.
     Since I've got as much time as I need during the week/weekend being young, sexy, single, and all I can train up to 25 to 30 hours per week.  However, I don't want to spend all that time running because I want to limit my running time to around 8 to 9 hours or 50 to 60 miles a week for now, until January.  To make up the difference in "cardio hours" I'll be using the Versa Climber, Incline Treadmill walking, AirDyne bike riding, Cycling, Indoor Rowing, and hopefully some skulling on the lake in Austin. 
     On Running, Tuesday will be 300M downhill repeats. Thursday will be 800 to 1600 M repeats. Saturday will be local 5K or 10K.  W/F/Su will be runs under 80% max HR varying from 5 to 15 miles or so. The Tu/Th/Sa runs are way intense up to 165 to 180 BPM. The downhill repeats are for turnover!
     I've been trailing riding my bike to work and that is not so bad.  I can get about 1 hour per day pretty easily.  The VersaClimber is fun and 3K a day is a great goal but can go to 5K. The Concept2 is a bit boring but you can get a great workout at 5K or hopefully 10K a day.  A caveat on the Concept2 and AirDyne is the upper body training you get out of it.  Most every account I read in Milroy's "Training for Ultraunning" regarding multi-day is the need for upper body strength. On the Treadmill to keep my climbing efficiency, I'll be working up to 40% grade with 40lbs vest and prob create some various protocols that keep you engaged. The extra cycling and lake rowing I hope to do on the weekends which will encourage me to get out of the house and go see the world even more!
     Of course this is my general plan. One still needs to do a bit of core work and foam rolling etc.. I'll be logging this training pretty well and hope to repeat quite a few of these workouts each week so there is objective data come January.  With this and a great diet, I should really see some step increases in performance over last year.  I'll state it now, I want to run under 30 hours at Hardrock if I get in.  So that is what I'll be working on.  The type of fitness that is required for my Hardrock goal will be the same that I'll need for Nolan's 14. 
     This is what is on my mind for training, what plans do you have?
    

Mountains No Mas

     I'm sitting in my cube here at work.  The mountains are no longer vivid. The faint whisper of a dream is all that remains of my epic summer in the Sawatch.  I owe so much thanks to Gina and Will for their help with our Nolan's Project.  I think I understand now, what the hell is going on out there.  I'm looking forward to 2016 and I'll be organizing my schedule to focus exclusively on another attempt.  Of course I'll put in for Barkley and Hardrock, but outside of that my focus is on the Nolan's Line.  The training that will be necessary for each of these events is very similar and complimentary.
     I have about 8 or 9 handwritten pages which tells the story of the summer of 2015. The scouting, the pacing, the beer drinking, the attempt, and the fun times in Leadville.  I'll publish that later on this week.  What did I learn? 
     Two things.  The African proverb is true, "If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together."  In this case, the Virgina Slims marketing campaign was also right, "You've come a long way, baby." 
      So, go out there and find something big to do.  Real big, commensurate with your current ability level.  Grab some of your friends and go for it.  Don't look back, take some risks.  You may not succeed the first time, or the second time, but you will go far and you will come a long way.  Much further than you would have otherwise.  If life is relationships, then you'll form no stronger bonds than those of shared experiences whether they be of misery or happiness. 
   

A Walk Through the Sawatch

     The time draws near.  The preparations have been made.  The batteries have been charged, the maps marked up.  A good friend asked me to take a walk through the Sawatch with him over Labor Day.  I couldn't say no.
      Almost 9 or 10 months ago, I received an IM, "Hey bro, you want to give Nolans a go?"  "Yea I'd love too, but I don't know the route," I said.  "You come up and learn it, I know the route and I'll show you," Will said.
      So, here we are tying up lose ends, getting ready.  A better part of the summer spent in Leadville and quite a few dollars on plane flights.  A number of visits to the Mexican food joint, the coffee shop, and seeing Mr. Dooper.  A month with the hypoxico mask on my face.  And even so, there is no certainty.  We can only hope that the weather is favorable.  We can only hope that we have the intrepidity to continue.  There is a 60 hour time goal out there, but that is not necessarily my goal.
     From the beginning, for me, it's been about the climbing and the line.  Time does not matter.  It's about the effort, not quitting, paying homage to the mountains and homage to those who've come before.  My plane doesn't leave till Tuesday night, time is on my side. 

“Stand tall on the summit after a tedious climb. Take in the remarkable scenery and the exhilaration of accomplishment. But don't pause for long; there are greater mountains to climb while you still possess the drive and capacity to do so.”- Richelle E. Goodrich