Running and Your Heart, Part II: The Athlete's Heart

Last week, inspired by some recent schoolwork and research, and mildly prompted by my collapse at Rocky Raccoon,  I started a series of posts on distance running and cardiac health.  The first post used my last twenty miles at Rocky as a jumping-off point to talk a little bit about pulmonary edema, and rather obliquely about cardiac illness.  I'd like to delve a little bit more into the relationship between endurance exercise, heart health, and heart disease.  In light of some of the recent media coverage of these issues, we're going to discuss some facts and address some common misconceptions and/or misinterpretations of some of the data out there, with the goal of all of us becoming better informed regarding this topic and better able to make rational decisions about our athletic future.

Before we can get into dysfunction, though, we have to talk about normal function, and about the physiologic adaptations that the heart makes to long-term endurance exercise.  Many of these adaptations are beneficial, but they're not without problems, either.

The normal heart

Chambers (and valves) of the heart

I don't think there's any need to get into a bunch of esoteric facts about the heart (It pumps six liters of blood per minute! It weighs 300 grams!) but we should first go through a few basics.  I'm sure you can remember from ninth grade biology that the heart is a muscle that pumps blood through the body.  You might also remember that the heart is split into two sides (left and right), each of which has two chambers (an atrium and a ventricle).  The right side of the heart pumps de-oxygenated blood to the lungs, where the red blood cells bind to oxygen.  Blood from the lungs then returns to the left side of the heart, from where (whence?) it is pumped out to the rest of the body so that the various tissues and organs can use that oxygen.  Having delivered oxygen to the tissues, the blood then returns to the right side of the heart to begin the cycle again.  Blood flows throughout the circulatory system in what is essentially a series of tubes; veins carry blood to the heart, while arteries carry blood from the heart.

OK, simple enough.  From a basic standpoint, that's all we need the heart to do: pump oxygen-poor blood to the lungs, deliver oxygen-rich blood to the rest of the body.  So when we talk about cardiac disease, we're most generally talking about a failure of the heart to fulfill that function.  But there are a bunch of different ways in which this basic function can be compromised.  For our purposes, there are three systems inherent to normal heart function that we want to be familiar with in order to understand possible dysfunction: the coronary arteries, the conduction system, and the heart muscle itself.

Coronary arteries

We spoke briefly about the heart muscle last week; simply put, the muscle squeezes, increasing the pressure within the chambers of the heart, and forces blood out into the circulation.  The muscle is the heart's engine.  The coronary arteries are responsible for delivering oxygen to the heart muscle.  Wait a minute, you're saying, didn't you just say that arteries carry blood AWAY from the heart?  Yes, I did!  Thanks for paying attention!  Arteries do indeed carry blood away from the ventricles, but in this case they don't have to go very far.  The coronary arteries arise from the aorta immediately after the blood leaves the left ventricle, and they surround the heart, supplying oxygen-rich blood to the muscle.  When you hear the term "heart attack," this is usually used to mean an interruption of blood flow to the heart muscle, usually due to a narrowing of, or blockage within, the coronary arteries. We're going to do an entire post about the coronary arteries next week, so for now, just think of them as the heart's plumbing system.

The conduction system, then, is the wiring.  This system is comprised of electrical fibers that coordinate the heartbeat.  The depolarization of these electrical cells causes the atria, and then the ventricles, to contract synchronously.  The contraction of the atria forces blood into the ventricles, and the contraction of the ventricles forces blood out into the circulation.  When you see that familiar tracing that we all know represents a beating heart:

what you're looking at is a graphic representation of the heart's electrical activity.  (I'm not going to go into what each of those little squiggles means, but if you're interested, read this.)  Without the orderly input of the electrical/conduction system, these contractions may lose their synchronicity, robbing the heart muscle of its ability to pump blood effectively--or contractions can cease altogether.

The athlete's heart

Note the enlarged (dilated) cardiac chambers in the athlete's vs. non-athlete's heart. Photo: cyclingtips.com

Like any other muscle, the heart responds to exercise by adapting to stress.  Weight lifting, for example, places the skeletal muscles under stress, ultimately causing the muscles to adapt by increasing muscle mass and size (hypertrophy).  Similarly, aerobic exercise means that the muscles requires more oxygen, necessitating increased cardiac output (the amount of blood the heart pumps).  Over time, the heart muscle adapts by increasing the mass and thickness of the muscular wall of the left ventricle.  Other adaptations include dilation (or enlargement) of the various heart chambers, and dilation of the coronary arteries (which I'll discuss more in next week's post).   In the absence of a history of vigorous exercise, many of these structural changes--hypertrophic ventricular walls, atrial dilation--would be considered pathologic.  That is to say, when we see these sorts of things in the population at large, they are usually the result of chronic high blood pressure or underlying cardiac disease, are usually associated with a loss of the heart's pump function, and can lead to congestive heart failure, pulmonary edema, and other general badness.  But in endurance athletes, who demonstrate these changes in the setting of preserved pump function, they are usually considered normal adaptations to long-term vigorous exercise that we term the athlete's heart.

What's the big deal? Aren't adaptations good?

So, in general, we think of the chronic adaptations associated with the athlete's heart to be beneficial, or at the very least neutral.  They allow for us to increase our cardiac output to meet the demands of intense aerobic activity, and do not appear to be associated with the sort of pathology we would otherwise expect from these kinds of changes in heart morphology.  However, there is some evidence that suggests that there may be some downside to some of the adaptations of the athlete's heart.

For example, take the dilation seen in the heart's chambers, particularly the left atrium and right ventricle.  There is a hereditary disease called arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy, a rare condition that causes dilation of the right ventricle and fibrous deposition or "scarring" within the myocardium (the muscular layer of the heart wall).  This fibrous tissue can interrupt the electrical pathways of the heart (remember that conduction system stuff?), serving as an origination point for life-threatening ventricular arrhythmias (abnormal heart rhythms).  The dilated RV seen in long term athletes can be accompanied by similar fibrous deposition, leading to some speculation that there may be an "exercise-induced arrhythmogenic right ventricle" that may mimic the inherited condition.  (Some have posited this as the theoretical framework for the death of Ryan Shay at the US Olympic Trials marathon in 2007, though that--in fact, all of this--remains unproven.)  Dilation of the left atrium also seems to place athletes at increased risk of atrial fibrillation or atrial flutter, two abnormal heart rhythms that, while not as dangerous as ventricular arrhythmias, can still cause significant cardiovascular complications.

No bueno.

Another interesting cardiac finding associated with ultra-endurance exercise relates to cardiac enzymes.  Many of you are probably familiar with rhabdomyolysis, a fun little problem in which repeated skeletal muscle trauma (as seen in, say, a 100-mile run) causes breakdown of muscle tissue and the release of enzymes called myoglobin and creating phosphokinase into the bloodstream.  Just like skeletal muscles, heart muscle contains these enzymes; but there are also enzymes that are specific to cardiac muscle, notably troponin.  Troponin is generally only minimally detectable in the bloodstream; elevated troponin levels generally imply damage to the heart muscle, usually from ischemia (lack of blood flow)-- a "heart attack."  Now, several studies have detected significant elevations in troponin levels following prolonged exercise.  Does this mean that we're giving ourselves small heart attacks during every ultra we run?  Probably not; while troponin elevations following heart attacks tend to peak many hours after the event, and persist for several days to weeks, post-exercise troponin elevations typically appear, and resolve, very rapidly.  Furthermore, while there have been studies showing reduction in LV and RV function following ultra endurance events, in almost every case function has been demonstrated to return to normal within one week, unlike what we would see in a "heart attack."  It appears possible that the transient elevation in troponin following extreme exercise is related to increased permeability (leakiness) of the cardiac cell membranes rather than ischemia, cell death, or permanent heart damage.

What does all this mean?

I know, I hit you with a lot of information, and right now you might be freaking out a little bit.  Freaking you out is not the objective of this post.  We're going to talk big picture in a couple of weeks, and hopefully when we're done you'll feel pretty comfortable with the whole deal.  For now, here's the take-home points:

• there are several adaptations that the heart makes to accommodate long-term, vigorous aerobic exercise
• most of these adaptations are generally beneficial
• there are some morphologic changes (that is, the the size/shape of the heart) that may increase the risk of arrhythmias in athletes
• most of the evidence we have at this time shows correlation, not causation, and much of the framework surrounding this remains theoretical/speculative

Again, we'll go big picture in a couple of weeks, and I'll be able to draw things together a little bit more.  The point of all this is just to make you a little more aware and informed about some of the interesting stuff that's out there, and maybe to generate some fodder for a discussion with your doctor if you have questions or concerns.  

If you want some really detailed reading on this stuff, check our these highly scientific articles:

George K, Whyte GP, Green DJ, Oxborough D, Shave RE, Gaze D, and Somauroo J. (2012). The endurance athletes heart: acute stress and chronic adaptation. British Journal of Sports Medicine, 46(S1), i29-i36.

O'Keefe JH, Patil HR, Lavie CJ, Magalski A, Vogel RA, and McCullough PA. (2012). Potential Adverse Cardiovascular Effects From Excessive Endurance Exercise. Mayo Clinic Proceedings, 87(6), 587-595.

Running and Your Heart, Part I

So...it's been an interesting couple of months.  I think I've mentioned this before, but since late last year I've been involved with the Heart Center, the preeminent cardiology group in the Hudson Valley, in establishing a new sports cardiology practice.  I'm not a cardiologist (which will become eminently obvious over the course of the next couple of posts) but I have more than a layman's understanding of the athlete's heart and many of the cardiac issues that endurance athletes deal with.  Plus, I've always had a major interest in exercise physiology, and have been looking for an opportunity to break into that field for some time.  Starting within the next couple of months, we'll be opening the doors on our new sports cardiology practice (spiffy title pending) and I'll be working part-time as the group's exercise physiologist.  So exercise science and the athlete's heart have been on my mind quite a bit recently.

This was obviously at the forefront of my thoughts during and after Rocky Raccoon.  As a brief recap, I was running very well at Rocky through 60 miles (9:12) and, despite a nosebleed and some other minor issues, was still on pace for a top-6, sub-16 hour finish through 80 miles (12:45).  In the last twenty miles, however, I developed some rather scary breathing issues, including some rattling breath sounds starting around mile 88 that had me concerned I might be developing pulmonary edema.  Pulmonary edema is basically fluid buildup in the lungs; it can occur for a variety of reasons in sick or elderly individuals, but is much less common in young, healthy folks.  (I'm referring to fluid within the lungs; this is different from a pleural effusion, or fluid around the lungs, which is an entirely different issue I'm not going to address here.)  Mountain climbers can experience high-altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE), which is basically a failure of the pulmonary (lung) vasculature (blood vessels) in response to the physiologic demands of altitude--obviously not an issue in Huntsville, TX.

The most common reasons for a buildup of fluid in the lungs are basically an inability to remove fluid (kidney failure) or an inability to circulate fluid (heart failure).  Reports of kidney failure following extreme endurance events, due to a condition called rhabdomyolysis, are not uncommon.  Rhabdomyolysis occurs as a result of extreme muscle breakdown, when large amounts of a muscle-based proteins myoglobin and creatine phosphokinase (CPK) are released into the bloodstream.  Without proper fluid intake, these proteins can accumulate in the renal tubular system, causing kidney failure.  Kidney failure can lead to anuria (inability to urinate) and pulmonary edema, as the body cannot excrete excess fluid and hydrostatic pressure causes fluid to leak into the lungs and other tissues.  In a 100-mile race, this is certainly a possibility (though remote).  However, I wasn't terribly concerned; I had urinated several times during the race, without any blood (a telltale sign of muscle breakdown called myoglobinuria), I had been taking in adequate fluids, and it was not an overly warm day.  Also, rhabdo-induced renal failure is usually a later finding; it was hard to believe that my kidneys could have already failed to the point where I was going into pulmonary edema less that fourteen hours into the event.  My real fear was my heart.

The most common cause of pulmonary edema is heart failure.  Basically, if the heart muscle is weakened (by any of a variety of mechanisms; most commonly, a heart attack), its ability to pump blood adequately can be compromised.  This can lead to a backup of blood flow throughout the body. When the blood does not flow adequately through the venous system, that can cause an increase in the amount of pressure within the veins.  That increased pressure can cause fluid to leak out of the veins, where it doesn't belong--including into the lungs.

Fortunately, not my chest X-ray photo: wikipedia.org

Now, I had no real reason to be concerned about my heart.  Other than some mild hypertension, I have no personal history of heart disease, and no other significant risk factors; I had even undergone a recent CT angiogram of the coronary vessels (more on this in subsequent postings), which was normal.  But as I mentioned, I've been rather immersed in sports cardiology and the athlete's heart recently, and as I'll talk about in the next few posts, there are a lot of unlikely but unpleasant possibilities that can befall those of us who take this running thing a bit too seriously.  At its essence, the heart is a rather simple pump, but the underlying components of the organ are a bit more complex, and therein lies a lot of potential problems.  The relationship between exercise, heart health, and heart pathology is actually quite fascinating, and I'll explore that a little more as promised in coming posts. But certainly in real time I was less fascinated and more, well, freaked out.

Anyway, I finished the race by walking the vast majority of the last 18 miles or so, and since then have recovered more or less normally.  I had the usual post-race leg swelling, which in this case brought on some additional anxiety but ultimately resolved as expected.  For a few days afterwards I felt as though I was getting short of breath just walking around or climbing stairs, but I think that may have all been in my head.  A week later I went for an echocardiogram, which is an ultrasound of the heart.  This test shows the activity of the heart muscle in real time; it can show if there are areas of the muscle which are not functioning normally (wall motion abnormalities), if there are problems with leaky heart valves, and how much blood the heart pumps with each beat (ejection fraction).  My cardiologist said my heart was very photogenic:



He also told me that, other than some normal findings associated with the athlete's heart, everything looked good, and that my ejection fraction was normal.  And after a two-week break, I started running slowly again.  It's been a longish recovery period, but now five weeks post-Rocky I'm running more or less normal mileage and feeling just about ready to get back to some harder training again.  (Though the estimated 24" of snow coming our way tomorrow may preclude that for a little while.)

So, apparently this has all been much ado about nothing, fortunately, though it's forced me to think a bit about the role of the sport in my life.  It's a silly pursuit, of course, for those of us who are not making a living at it; sure, it's better than plenty of other bad habits we could have, but there probably isn't anything in our lives that needs to be taken to the extremes that we ultrarunners face regularly.  I did have some fleeting thoughts about what life would look like without 110-mile training weeks.  Unfortunately I don't think I'm mature enough to make any difficult decisions about it at this point, though with a clean bill of health it doesn't seem I'll be forced to do so for awhile.  So for now I'll keep plugging away and trying to slay whatever dragons strike my fancy in the coming months.  (Plus there's always the Western States lottery to look forward to.)

However, there's an awful lot of information out there regarding distance running and long-term health, and a lot of it can be very confusing.  So in the next few weeks I thought I'd try to demystify some of that information, in case anyone else is struggling with some of these decisions regarding their future in the sport.  Next post we'll talk a little bit about the athlete's heart and some of the various changes related to distance running, and whether or not we need to worry about those things.  After that we'll go into the association between ultrarunning and coronary artery disease.  And I'd like to spend a post on the relationship between strenuous exercise and overall mortality, which has been in the news quite a bit recently.  So, check back soon for more possibly accurate, semi-scientific information.

Race Report: Rocky Raccoon 100

It's been almost two weeks since Rocky Raccoon, my first real 100 miler (not counting last year's 24-hour at North Coast, though maybe I should).  I've been struggling with various, conflicting emotions since I crossed the finish line in Texas.  Relief at being finished.  Disappointment at not having achieved most of my goals.  Frustration that, despite excellent preparation and race execution, I was left with a sub-par result, largely due to circumstances outside my control.  Pride at having actually accomplished the task of running 100 miles, still in a relatively respectable time.  Concern and fear over what I might be doing to my body.  Uncertainty as to where I go from here.

I came into Rocky about as prepared as I could've hoped.  I'd had four months of basically uninterrupted training since North Coast, averaging over 100 mi/week for the previous 13 weeks (including recovery weeks!) with a nice mix of track work, hills, tempo, and marathon-pace efforts.  Greg had almost fixed my chronic Achilles tendinosis.  Scott had basically tortured my muscles into balance.  My weight was perfect, right in the 137-lb. range.  Four weeks earlier, I had run a solo 50K in 3:39, feeling completely relaxed; my last 10 miles were easily the fastest of the run.  I had no excuses.  I flew to Houston on the Thursday before the Super Bowl with my great friends Phil and Laura (and Francis Ford Coppola, who was on our plane); Phil would be running his second 100 (after an epic battle with the Grindstone course last year) and Laura would be crewing me and pacing my last 25 miles.

All smiles at the start, with Phil. photo: Laura Kline

The opening pace was about as fast as I expected.  My pre-race goal was 15 hours (I didn't know exactly how realistic that was, but I knew I could run 16 hours, and I wanted to be mentally prepared to try to run faster than that), and based on previous years I figured that a 15-16 hour performance would have me comfortably in the top 5.  I was anticipating a quick start, though, so I lined up several rows back and let folks go crazy in the early stages.  I stopped to pee around four miles in and was very pleased to find that Phil had been running right behind me (why he hadn't said anything for the first half hour is beyond me).  He was planning on running in the 17-18 hour range, so this pace was a bit faster than he needed to be, but he was happy to run comfortably with me and plan on slowing down later, so we settled in to 9:00 pace and wiled away the miles chatting and making sure not to go too fast.

With Phil at mile 23, cruising along. photo: Laura Kline

We finished the first 20-mile circuit in 2:58, right on pace (if not place; we were easily outside the top-20, already over 30 minutes behind the leaders; but I knew there weren't about to be twenty sub-15:00 100s out there) and resolved to slow down just a tad over the next lap, so as not to overdo it.  Phil was the pacemaker for most of lap 2, and did a masterful job in guiding us through a 3:02 lap for a 6-flat split at 40 miles.  The course was fun--a mix of singletrack and doubletrack, with a few more rolling hills than I had anticipated, but mostly excellent footing and eminently runnable.  The aid stations were well-stocked and staffed with hilarious, enthusiastic volunteers.  All in all we were having a blast.  I stopped briefly at 40 miles to eat a little peanut butter and chat with Laura for a few seconds while Phil ran through the aid station and opened up a little gap on me, but I had been moving just a touch better over the last several miles and was not concerned about catching back up; by 42 miles were running together again.  I was a few seconds in front when we came to an intersection that had clearly had the markings tampered with; it took us a minute or two to sort out where the signs had been switched around and get back on the right path.  (Where does this compulsion come from, to fuck around with course markings?  How is this fun for whoever is doing this?  I could almost understand it if you were sitting there and laughing at stupid runners getting confused and running in different directions, but why are you switching markings and then just walking away?  What pleasure does that bring you?)

End of lap 2, 40 miles in. photo: Laura Kline

I kept the pace steady throughout lap 3; I still felt very good, but did not want to go overboard yet, and focused on trying to run the same splits between aid stations as I had on the first two laps.  Phil fell back and I was on my own; I could track my progress to some of the leaders, though it became obvious that a lot of people had dropped out already and I didn't have a clear sense of where I stood.  My splits were not far off, especially accounting for the few minutes we'd lost at the tampered intersection.  The seven-mile Damnation loop between the second and third AS on each lap did become a bit of a slog.  This was the longest stretch between aid stations, and also the longest segment that didn't involve an out-and-back section, so it was rather isolating; it was a good hour of basically solo running, with few landmarks, and by the third time through it was starting to feel like a chore.  But I maintained through 50 miles in 7:34 and finished up lap 3 in 9:12, now in sixth place.  Fifth was a good 20-30 minutes ahead and looking strong; seventh was about 8-10 minutes back (Phil was about 10-15 back, in around 10th).  I knew by know that I wasn't going to break 15:00--negative splits are almost impossible in a race this long--but I told Laura that I'd be at the 75-mile mark in 11:45-12:00, and that 16 hours was easily doable.

I pressed on through lap 4.  After running through every aid station for the first 30 miles or so, I had developed a nice AS rhythm: two cups of Coke, half a banana, a few bites of PBJ, grilled cheese, or a quesadilla, and some pickles.  A minute or so, in and out.  I'd been running the whole way with my Orange Mud Hydraquiver Single Barrel, so I had 26-ounces of fluid with me, which I was generally drinking twice per lap starting with lap 2--one time with GU Brew, then refilling with water for the second half of each lap.  My fueling and energy systems felt pretty good.  I'd taken a few salt tablets, but not many.  I had peed probably four times in the first 70 miles or so; it was a little concentrated, but certainly not brown or anything concerning.  The Damnation loop on lap 4 was interminable; even though it was only about 4-5 minutes slower than I'd been running on the previous laps, it felt like it would never end.  Still, I maintained a nice pace through mile 72, on target to meet Laura at 75.5 in about 11:50.

In a race this long, things are going to go wrong at some point; how you deal with them is what separates a good race from a bad one.  At 73 miles, things that didn't need to go wrong started to go wrong.  I started feeling pretty tired and was struggling a little bit, when I started bleeding from my right nostril.  This isn't unheard of for me, especially when conditions are as dry as they were in Texas, but it certainly was an issue I didn't want to deal with at that point.  I slowed down a little and managed as best I could, and came in to the aid station to pick up Laura right around 11:53 or so.  (For comparison, my 12-hour split at North Coast was about 76 miles, so I was right there, if not a couple of minutes faster.)  Laura was ready to rock (and freezing cold, having been waiting for about 30 minutes as sunset approached) but I had to sit and manage my issues.  A volunteer pulled up a folding chair and brought me some tissues to pack my nose; Laura brought some Ramen and refilled my bottle.

"What else do you need?" asked the volunteer.  "I've got some whoppies.  You want some whoppies?"

Did I want whoppies?  I didn't know.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Whoppies?  You need some whoppies?"

Shit, I didn't know what he was talking about.  I racked my brain, trying to think of what I was forgetting.  I'd been reminding myself for the past few miles that I wanted to tell Laura to give me a Zofran tablet (for nausea) when we got to mile 80...more as a precaution than anything else, though my stomach had felt mildly queasy...I knew I wanted to drop my vest pack and just use a handheld on the last lap...I couldn't remember what I had decided about whoppies.  Did I want whoppies?  Would they bother my stomach?  Wait, what the fuck was a whoppy?  Why couldn't I remember what a whoppy was?  Laura was back with my bottle, but she didn't seem to know about whoppies either.

"I'm sorry...what are you saying?"

"Whoppies."

"What...oh. Wipies."

Texas accents, man.

Once I had cleaned the blood off my hands and face with some wet wipes (aka wipies/whoppies), we started off at an easy jog.  I led most of the way back to the start/finish, not running the 9-10 minute pace I had been doing earlier, but holding a steady 11:00 pace for the next four miles or so, coming through 80 miles in 12:46.  I needed to run only 10:30 pace to break 16 hours.  Fifth place was over thirty minutes in front, but seventh place was about twenty minutes behind.  Sixth was mine, barring disaster.  I dropped my vest and grabbed my handheld, took the Zofran and, at Laura's suggestion, a caffeine tablet, as my energy levels were starting to sag a bit, and we started off, headlamps blazing, Laura in the lead, running ten-minute miles.

I struggled to keep up as we started off, though my legs felt alright, and tried to keep suffering through what seemed to be a bad patch.  But after a mile or so, I could tell it wasn't simply a bad patch.  My breathing didn't feel right.  I was fatigued, to be sure, but beyond that, I was struggling to keep my breathing under control.  I was hyperventilating on every uphill.  After about two miles, I told Laura I needed to slow down to try to catch my breath.  I wasn't sure what the problem was.  Maybe the caffeine, I thought; though I'm pretty habituated to caffeine, and had been drinking Coke and taking caffeinated gels for the past several hours, maybe the tablet had been too much, and it was causing my heart to race.  We stopped at AS 1 (83 miles) and I sat again to check my pulse.  120 beats/minute.  Nothing out of the ordinary; certainly nothing to cause unusual shortness of breath.  I rested a few minutes, drank some hot broth, and we walked on.

Over the next few miles, I tried to run on the flat and downhill sections whenever I could.  Uphills left me gasping for air and were not runnable.  We decided we'd have to try to just wait out whatever was happening.  I had no chest pain and was still urinating.  My legs actually felt fine; on the sections were I could run, I was holding sub-10:00 pace with any real soreness or achiness.  And maybe the breathing was getting a little better.  I'd just walk the uphills until it went away.

It was on the final Damnation loop where everything went to shit.  I started feeling a rattling in my chest when I was running; I tried to cough up phlegm but nothing would come up.  At first, it was only on uphills; by about 88 miles I could hear a rattling sound even on flat segments.  By now I was starting to freak out a little bit.  I doubted it was my kidneys, as I had peed only a few miles earlier.  Was my heart OK?  All the reading I'd been doing for work and school about ultrarunning and heart disease started playing with my mind.

"Laura, I think my lungs are filling up with fluid.  I think I just have to walk."

So, we walked.  Every so often I'd try running for a bit, but the rattling came back after fifteen seconds or so and I was too freaked out to keep going.  Walking seemed OK, and my legs felt fine, and I was still going to be able to finish, so we just walked.  I felt bad for Laura, who had given up an entire weekend and flown all this way and supported me all day to basically be reduced to walking for 18 of the 25 miles she was pacing, but I couldn't do anything about it.  I was still in sixth, somehow, through ninety miles, but by about 91 folks started straggling by.  Phil and his pacer Mike came past at about 93; he looked so strong I wanted to cry, but I put on a brave face and we just trudged through.  I was able to run for about fifteen of the final 25 minutes or so, and finished the last lap with Laura in 5:01, for a 17:48, 12th-place finish.

I went straight to the medical tent, although I felt generally OK, and had one of the docs listen to my lungs, which he pronounced as clear; my heart rate was about 140 when I first sat down, but came down to 90 within the first couple of minutes.  I was still having a hard time taking a full, deep breath without coughing, which would persist for the next couple of days, but otherwise things seemed to be fine.  I'm still not sure what the issue was/is.  My best supposition is that the dry, dusty air caused some bronchospasm and a bit of an asthma-like reaction; several folks, including Phil, commented on how dusty it had been, and I had my nosebleed as evidence.  But I'm scheduled for a chest X-ray and an echocardiogram tomorrow, so we'll make sure everything is ok.  (I'll try to post a bit on the echo, and some various ultrarunning/heart-related issues, next week.)

My favorite existential sign. This is the next morning.  No, I don't look good.

So where do I go from here?  I won't make any long-term decisions until after the echo results are in. If everything is OK, I assume I'll get back to training in another week or so, and I'll put together a race schedule for the summer/fall in the coming weeks.  I'm glad to have finished, and to have my buckle, and my WS qualifier, and yes, a 17:48 is not anything to sneeze at.  But everything pointed to a sub-16, and my legs were certainly up for it, and my fueling and everything else seemed to be on point.  I'm equal parts frustrated and concerned, combined with the usual apathy/ennui after a major race is over.  It's not a great headspace to be in right now.

I learned that I can prepare for and execute a 100-mile race plan.  I confirmed, after Bandera and North Coast, that I can compete among the second tier of US ultrarunners at long national championship races--I'm not going to win, but after the true elites beat the shit out of each other, I'm certainly in the next wave of guys that are picking up the pieces.  And I learned that bad patches are just bad patches, and that I should recognize them for what they are, and not panic and try to force myself out of them by taking caffeine pills or whatnot; they just need to be endured until they end.  What all this means for me going forward, though, is still a bit of a mystery.

Gear
Patagonia Strider shorts and top, courtesy of Mountain Peak Fitness/Red Newt Racing
inov-8 Race Ultra 290s (discontinued, unfortunately, but really looking forward to the new Roclites)
Orange Med Single Barrel HydraQuiver, Handheld, and trucker cap
GU Roctane gels and GU Brew

Nerve Gliding

I'm currently in the Best Western Inn & Suites in Huntsville (home of Sam Houston, the patron saint of Texas), about 16 hours ahead of the start of Rocky Raccoon, my first official attempt at the 100-mile distance (notwithstanding last year's 24-hour effort at North Coast).  Right now I've literally got my feet up, propped on a pile of pillows, and I'm watching a Law & Order marathon, so I'm about as happy as I could possibly be.  In about an hour we'll head out for a little shakeout jog before dinner.  I feel pretty good.  The last few months of training have gone great.  I'm a man without an alibi.

I've talked before about how much I hate tapering, and this time around hasn't been all that different.  But I've added a new element to the pre-race routine that seems very promising that may give me a bit of an edge come tomorrow afternoon.  Prior to my last effort at Recover from the Holidays, I visited Greg at Momentum PT for a routine called nerve gliding.  Basically, the brain and the nervous system are in control of pretty much everything that happens to you during a long race...and if we can fool the nervous system into thinking we don't feel quite as bad as we think we do, we can actually run faster and longer than our brain would otherwise allow.  I'll let Greg explain it better:

Common issues and complaints related to physical/athletic performance are fatigue, cramps, decreased muscle activation/strength, diminished coordination and good ol' fashioned bonking just to name a few.  This is especially the case when talking about events that significantly test one's endurance or during long periods of exertion.  There is a complex interplay between many systems in the body to cause these issues but it is impossible not to implicate the nervous system with each one since it is still the CEO making final decisions based on the information it receives.

Most, if not all, runners have experienced these issues at some point during training or a race.  One of the main factors is when the nervous system has had enough,  the rest of the body will follow suit pretty quickly making it very difficult to reverse course.  Even if everything else like nutrition, training and rest went according to plan, nothing can defy the limits of your nervous system.  So those muscle cramps at mile 22 in a marathon are probably not a salt or nutrition issue anymore; it's more likely to be exertion-related fatigue of the neuromuscular system resulting in those muscle cramps.  The good news is that the nervous system is not static, but is actually quite adaptable and something that can be trained leading to an elevation in performance.  Who doesn't want that?

Before going any further, a quick (simplified) physiology lesson is in order.  The nervous system runs on a baseline level of sensitivity but this is something that can change.  It can become more sensitized which means it is more easily triggered causing it to fatigue and run out of fuel faster or less sensitized which means it is less trigger happy and runs more efficiently (read: less fatigue).  In essence, a less sensitized nervous system is able to provide a more accurate picture of any sensory information coming in to the brain since it's not being triggered over every little and insignificant type of stimuli.  An accurate picture going into the brain results in a better, more consistent output to your neuromuscular system.  You can probably see where this is going: good info in + good info out = improved performance.

The question, then, is how to accomplish this?  The short answer is through what are known as nerve mobilizations or nerve glides.  In the case of runners, the posterior nerve bundle of the leg, the sciatic nerve, is important to target because it innervates the hamstring and calf muscles which tend to be susceptible to cramps.  You can think of them as very specific and repetitive short duration stretches which  can be done in a variety of ways.  Just like many systems in the body, when exposed to some kind of stress, the nervous system will adapt and become "stronger" and more efficient.  Nerve mobilizations are a way to expose the nervous system to new stimuli and gently push its boundaries so that it becomes more comfortable with more stress.  This can be combined with other desensitization and calming/relaxation techniques to compound the effects of nerve mobilizations.  The end result is a robust and fatigue-resistant operating system that allows you to push yourself physically with fewer issues.  A nice bonus is that recovery tends to be quicker after your race or training session as well. 

Get it?  Just like the musculoskeletal system and the cardiovascular system, the nervous system is adaptable.  Placing it under some gentle stress shortly before the race teaches it that the stress it will experience a day or two later is manageable.  Our perception of the stress, and of fatigue, changes.

The routine takes about thirty minutes and is pretty painless.  Greg does some static stretching of the hamstrings, placing some strain on the sciatic nerve; it's mildly uncomfortable but not bad at all.  Then he places some gentle traction on the legs and moves them back and forth (abducting and adducting them, if you're anatomically inclined) while kind of shaking them around.  It's actually pretty relaxing.

Does it work?  I only have the one anecdotal experience to report from last month...which was awesome.  I ran a very relaxed 3:39 solo 50K, feeling much less leg strain and fatigue than I usually would for an effort like that.  And the next day, when I would normally be pretty sore from a long, hard road effort, I was able to cruise an easy sixteen miles, definitely fatigued but without any significant soreness or discomfort.  Maybe it's a placebo.  But if it's even a 1% advantage, that's at least ten minutes in 100 miles.  Tomorrow, I'll need every ten-minute advantage I can get.

Final 2016 Gunksrunner Ultra Rankings

Men's #1, and UROY, Jim Walmsley photo: Geoff Baker

I'm still waiting on results from two races in mid-December to officially close out 2016, but I don't really expect either of them to substantively affect the standings, so here are the more-or-less final 2016 GUR.  As noted, I made some tweaks to the formula this year, placing a larger emphasis on level 4 and 5 races, which I think helped.  The question now is whether these races are a little over-valued.  I don't think they are.  Yes, performing well in only one or two level 5 races can really vault someone to a high ranking.  But, it should!  There were only ten level 5 events on the calendar this year; placing highly in one of them really should carry extra weight.  The biggest problem I think I have right now is accurately categorizing overseas races.  Several of them were level 5 this year: Comrades, obviously; UTMB; Laveredo; MDS.  Many others were also level 4, including Transvulcania, Transgrancanaria, Ultravasan, CCC, and several others.  But these races are taking on increased importance, particularly among the North American elites, and I need to be as methodical as possible about making sure these are accurately reflected.  I'm not willing to just accept that any race in Europe is automatically a level 5, as some folks would have you believe--every European field is not Western States, people!--but I need someone with a little more expertise to help out here.  Any volunteers? (Jason Schlarb, I'm looking in your direction.)  I may have to over-rank these races a little bit to account for the fact that the field strength multiplier will not be as robust as it should be (since the multiplier is dependent on the number of top-ranked runners in the race, and these rankings follow North American runners only, European and Asian fields will get some short shrift in this respect).

Otherwise, I'm happy with the balance that the rankings continue to strike between racing a lot and racing just a few big races.  There are certainly multiple runners on both the men's and women's side that obtained top rankings with varied racing schedules.  Some people are higher than I'd like to see them, some are lower.  That's OK, that's what UROY voting is for.

Twenty-seven of last year's top 50 women repeated in the top 50 this year, and twenty-two men did the same.  And allow me a brief moment of bragging to point out that yours truly managed to rank #94 for the year.  I don't know if that accurately reflects anything, really, but I'm kind of psyched about it.

Anyway, here's the final top 50 for 2016.  These runners will factor into the field strength multipliers for every race they run in 2017.  Nearly 4000 men and over 3500 women earned ranking points in 2016.  As always, you can view the entire list here, or anytime using the links on the Ultrarunning magazine site.  Use the CTRL-F function on the rankings sheets to find your own name.

	Men	State	Points	Women	State	Points
1	Jim Walmsley	AZ	254.125	Kaci Lickteig	NE	230.9
2	Brian Rusiecki	MA	181.1	Magdalena Boulet	CA	141
3	Ian Sharman	CA	148.5	Kathleen Cusick	FL	121.4
4	Andrew Miller	OR	145	YiOu Wang	CA	119
5	Zach Miller	CO	137.4	Courtney Dauwalter	CO	104.5
6	Dylan Bowman	CA	129.875	Amy Sproston	OR	100.5
7	Paul Terranova	TX	113.5	Caroline Boller	CA	98.3
8	Mark Hammond	UT	106.95	Devon Yanko	CA	93.2
9	David Roche	CA	101	Neela D'Souza	Canada	80
10	Christopher Dennucci	CA	100.725	Bethany Patterson	VA	79.3
11	Jeff Browning	OR	99.4	Cassie Scallon	CO	76.05
12	Alex Nichols	CO	97.375	Julie Koepke	TX	75.875
13	Hayden Hawkes	UT	95	Clare Gallagher	CO	75.8
14	Cody Reed	AZ	87.3	Sarah Keyes	NY	74.5
15	Jesse Haynes	CA	81.7	Alissa St. Laurent	Canada	72
16	Tim Tollefson	CA	73.1	Hillary Allen	CO	71.825
17	Michael Daigeaun	PA	68	Maggie Guterl	PA	71
18	Paddy O'Leary	CA	66.05	Amanda Basham	OR	70
19	Mario Mendoza	OR	65.9	Heather Hoechst	PA	68.75
20	Jason Lantz	PA	64.95	Nicole Kalogeropoulos	TX	68.6
21	Matt Flaherty	IN	64.85	Jodee Adams-Moore	WA	68.25
22	Jason Schlarb	CO	64.8	Kelly Wolf	AZ/CO	66.7
23	Kyle Pietari	MA	64.5	Sarah Schubert	VA	65.8
24	Sage Canaday	CO	63.75	Camille Herron	OK/MI	62.7
25	Michael Owen	OH	62.75	Corinne Malcolm	WA	60.25
26	Tim Freriks	AZ	62.125	Megan Roche	CA	60
27	Jorge Maravilla	CA	61.85	Laura Kline	NY	59.75
28	David Laney	CA	60.8	Keely Henninger	OR	59.725
29	Chris Mocko	CA	60.375	Sarah Bard	WA	59.3
30	Jared Burdick	NY	58.5	Aliza Lapierre	VT	59.25
31	Aaron Saft	NC	58.075	Darcy Piceu	CO	57.375
32	Ed Ettinghausen	CA	57.6	Sabrina Little	TX	54.5
33	Dakota Jones	CO	55.5	Anna Mae Flynn	CA	54.3
34	Tyler Sigl	WI	54.9	Megan Kimmel	CO	54
35	Zach Bitter	CA	54.5	Annie Jean	Canada	52.5
36	Dominick Layfield	UT	52.55	Megan Alvarado	VA	52.25
37	Jorge Pacheco	CA	52.2	Liz Bauer	SC	52
38	Mike Wardian	VA	50.95	Kaytlyn Gerbin	WA	51.875
39	Stephen Wassather	CA	49	Angela Shartel	CA	51.5
40	Brett Hornig	OR	45.4	Amy Rusiecki	MA	50.625
41	Chikara Omine	CA	45.35	Abby Rideout	UT	49.7
42	Masazumi Fujioka	WA	45.3	Pam Smith	OR	49.1
43	Chase Nowak	MN	45	Justyna Wilson	PA	49
44	Patrick Regan	GA	44.5	Beverly Anderson-Abbs	CA	49
45	Anthony Kunkel	CO	44.1	Erika Lindland	CA	48.8
46	Patrick Caron	MA	44	Leah Frost	VT	48
47	Ryan Bak	OR	44	Denise Bourassa	OR	47.425
48	Morgan Elliot	NC	43.2	Katalin Nagy	FL	46.8
49	Olivier Leblond	VA	43	Darla Askew	OR	46.6
50	Clark Messman	CA	42.5	Megan Digregorio	PA	45.4

Race Reports: Viking Run and RFTH

As part of the buildup for Rocky Raccoon, I recently ran two local, low-key races within a seven-day span.  Not that I particularly needed to race, per se, but both are fun events that I've enjoyed running in the past, and would provide two different training stimuli that I wanted heading into the final training push.  The training has actually been going quite well--averaging over 100 mi/wk for the past couple of months, including recovery weeks, with some good hill sessions, some longish marathon-paced running, and a couple of good long runs (particularly a 40-miler with Phil and Laura that despite the arctic conditions went quite well).  I've had a few little aches and pains, but with help from Greg and Scott I've been staying (mostly) on top of things.

Pre-Viking Run selfie, with obligatory hat.

First up in this little racing mini-block was the Viking Run, a very low-key 10K in Rosendale, about 10 miles from my house.  This race has been going on for much longer than I know; when I moved to the area in 2004, it was already a staple of the local scene.  It's generally held on the weekend before Christmas and New Year's; the 2016 edition took place on New Year's Eve.  We're often out of town during this vacation week, but I like to run this race if I'm around; this was my fourth or fifth time running it, but the first since 2014.  Generally, I can run up front if no fast young guys show up, which was the case this year.  I showed up after an overnight shift at the tail end of a 100-mile week, hoping to break 40 minutes, which on this course, which features over 1000 feet of climbing, is actually a pretty good effort.

I started off at the front and immediately opened up a small gap of about 10-15 seconds during the first mostly flat mile.  Tim Kosteczko, a local runner who's been putting in some good training recently, was hanging tough in the early going, but I was pretty sure that once the climbing started I'd be able to pull away.  We hit the first hill just past the mile mark and proceeded to climb for the next 10+ minutes; by the time I reached the top I couldn't see Tim behind me.  The course then drops precipitously for about a mile, turns around, and retraces its way back to the start.  I had a two-minute lead at the turn and knew I was pretty safe in terms of the win, but continued trying to push myself for the sub-40.  The return climb is absolutely brutal, and I struggled near the top, but was able to recover quickly on the way back down and hold on for a 38:55 and a three-minute victory margin.  This year, for the first time, local running nut Chris Regan had awards made for the race, and I wound up taking home a pretty cool viking horn trophy, out of which I imbibed a few that evening.

Cool! Thanks, Chris.

One week later, finishing a 120-mile training week, I returned for the fourth time to the Recover From the Holidays 50K, another low-key local event that I love to use as a workout/tuneup if I'm running a big race in the middle of the winter (which I usually am).  RFTH is a fat-ass race comprised of ten laps of a paved 5K out-and-back circuit.  This was actually the 21st running of this event, which is mostly used as a training run for local distance runners; RDs Pete Colaizzo and Charlie Sprauer will let anyone show up and run as many or as few laps as they like.  Most folks will run their 10-15 mile long run for the day and sit around the bonfire eating pizza with Pete and Charlie afterwards, but each year about 10-20 folks will battle the cold (and wind, and usually snow flurries) for the full ultra.  There are no awards, but it's free, as is the pizza, so you can't beat that price.

I'm on an odd-year-only streak with RFTH.  It's a race I've tried to do every year, but in the even years, something seems to get in the way.  (Last year it was Bandera.)  Still, I had secured wins in 2011, 2013, and 2015, and while it's certainly a casual event, 2017 marked my chance to become the first four-time winner of the race.  Among a champions' lineup that includes US national team members (Byron Lane) and American record holders (Sabrina Little), that would be a pretty cool deal.

Despite the recent heavy training volume, my legs have been feeling pretty good, and my goal was to run a relaxed but steady tempo of about 22:30/lap--right around 7:30 pace--shooting for a 3:45.  I figured my current fitness level would allow me to run that pace without too much difficulty and without sacrificing the last few weeks of my Rocky Raccoon training.  My friend and training partner Brian Hickey, who has won this race twice himself, was joining me there, but was aiming for 8:00/mile pace, so unfortunately it looked as though I'd be on my own.

Rolling along at RFTH photo: Charlotte Kopp

We started off on a frigid 19 degree morning and I immediately opened up a small lead on Brian and the rest of the pack.  I struggled through the first lap just trying to warm up; my toes were completely numb and my teeth were chattering through the early stages.  I ran the first lap in exactly 22:30 and was already over a minute in front.  About halfway through lap two I finally felt as though I had warmed up and was able to settle into a comfortable rhythm of right around 22:00/lap.  As I clicked off the miles, everything felt rather comfortable.  I didn't quite have my climbing legs, but I was able to power through the hills, as they are relatively short, and was really able to hold a nice, quick tempo on the flats.  I passed 15K in 66:30, halfway in 1:50:15, and 30K in 2:12:35.  Starting at about lap three, I checked the port-a-potty each time past the start/finish, but couldn't catch a window when it was open; finally, after reaching 35K in 2:34:50, I stopped and waiting until it opened up.  Finishing my business, I started lap eight at 2:36:55, cruised through 40K in 2:57 and the marathon in right around 3:06.  Finishing up lap nine in 3:18:30, and still feeling very relaxed, I decided to push the final lap slightly to see if I could break 3:40.  It did take a little more effort over the final circuit, but I was able to run my fastest lap at the end and finish up in 3:39:20, my second-fastest time on the course (after a 3:32 in 2013) and ninth-fastest all time.  My final 15K was my fastest three laps of the day, covering that stretch in 63:30 (6:50 pace).  All in all, a great confidence boost heading into the final buildup to Rocky.

I'll have a couple of brief posts coming in the next couple of weeks prior to RR100, and hopefully a good writeup following it.  After that the blog may have to go quiet for a few weeks.  I'm finishing up classwork this spring while simultaneously starting a new work project and writing a scientific paper that needs to be finishes by mid-March, so things are going to get pretty hairy in there for a little while.

Why Economy Matters

I'm currently working towards a post-graduate certification in exercise science from California University (go Vulcans!) and so I've been doing a fair bit of reading in recent weeks.  Not all of my studies have been terribly applicable to distance running, but I've been able to glean some pearls.  I've experienced a renewed appreciation of the importance of strength and core training, for example.  And while I'm becoming more comfortable with the concepts of VO2max and lactate threshold, which are the mainstays of scientific inquiry into endurance athletes and their training, I'm beginning to think that the less-discussed parameter of running economy may actually be the most important physiologic variable, particularly in the ultra world.

A quick primer, for those who may not be familiar with some of these terms.  Most athletes who have been tested in a lab will have a general sense of their VO2max and lactate threshold.  VO2max refers to the maximum uptake of oxygen by muscles that are exercising at peak intensity.  Running performance is dependent upon a wide variety of factors--the ability of the system to remove lactate, buffer excess acid, and dissipate heat, as well as various neuromuscular and biomechanical considerations--but at its most basic level, endurance performance is governed by the ability of the cardiopulmonary system to distribute oxygen to the skeletal muscles, and on the ability of the muscles to most effectively and efficiently utilize that oxygen.  These crucial components--oxygen delivery and oxygen utilization--are encompassed by the VO2max.  

The lactate threshold (LT) is the exercise intensity beyond which lactate production begins to outstrip lactate clearance.  This is an important determinant of running performance, as it represents the highest intensity that can be maintained over a long period of time.  The higher the LT, the faster an athlete can run without accumulating significant amounts of lactate, which will lead to fatigue.  (This is a fairly simplified explanation, but it will serve the purposes of this rather unscientific blog post.)

OK, then, what's running economy?  Running economy (RE) refers to the muscular uptake of oxygen while running at a sustained, non-maximal pace. It is a measure of how efficient an athlete is when running at "steady-state"; one could think of RE as the VO2sub-max.  Or, compare it to a car: if VO2max is the size of the car's engine, RE is the gas mileage. 

When you think of RE in this way, it becomes clear why it is such a crucial aspect of endurance performance.  While VO2max holds an important key to an athlete's potential, the runner who demonstrates better running economy will be able to perform at a higher relative percentage of her VO2max without fatiguing.  In a marathon or ultra, which takes place at intensities far below maximum effort (unless you're Zach Miller, apparently),


the ability to maintain a higher relative intensity with less effort and less fatigue is going to carry the day.  This is especially true at the upper echelons of the sport, where a relatively high VO2max is basically a requirement for entry.  Yes, there are outliers, and if you're lucky enough to be Killian (reportedly, a VO2max of 89.5 mg/kg/min, one of the highest ever recorded) or Pre (supposedly a VO2max of 85 mg/kg/min), maybe RE becomes less important.  But for the most part, an elite marathoner or ultrarunner will have a VO2max in the high 70s.  So if everyone starts in this relatively rarefied air, economy may become the determining factor in performance.

Put it this way: taken together, VO2max, LT, and RE account for 70% of inter-runner variance in performance.  If whatever contribution VO2max makes to that 70% is basically negated because all of your competitors have that same contribution, the other factors take on outsized importance.

You millennials out there on the interwebs may not know the guy in the picture to start this post.  That's Frank Shorter, winning the gold medal at the 1972 Olympic marathon in Munich.  (He was robbed of a repeat gold in 1976 by Waldemar Cierpinski, a product of the East German doping machine.)  Shorter is notable in this discussion for having a relatively pedestrian VO2max of about 70 mg/kg/min, but he compensated for this by being incredibly efficient--in fact, his RE values compared favorably with most elite East African runners, which helps explain his fantastic success despite having a "normal" VO2max.

So how do you improve your running economy?  Well...we're not 100% sure, although it certainly appears to be modifiable in some ways.  Part of the problem is that RE is determined not just by cardiovascular factors (VO2max) or metabolic factors (LT) or neuromuscular factors, but encompasses all of these and others.  So it can be hard to tease out the effects of various types of training on RE, independent of their effects on the various physiologic systems in play.  Another problem is that RE is, at least in part, dependent on anthropometric/body composition characteristics.  (Not just being lighter, but having long legs relative to torso length, with thinner ankles and calves relative to the quadriceps, which imparts a biomechanical advantage, and which you can't really do anything about.)

The good news is that there is some evidence that almost any kind of training has a positive effect on RE.  Indeed, there is some suggestion that simply cumulative mileage over many years leads to enhanced economy.  (Although on the flip side, RE decreases with age, likely due to a reduction in the ability to store and use elastic energy...it gets complicated pretty quickly.) And interval (VO2max) training, LT training, and resistance training have all been shown in various studies to improve RE, though the relative benefits of training at various intensities remain unclear.  Resistance training has demonstrated positive effects on RE, although again, we have yet to define the optimal method by which this takes place.

So, your take-home points:

1. when you go to your friendly exercise physiologist for an assessment, ask about your RE, not just your VO2max and lactate threshold
2. include various intensities in your training to improve RE via multiple pathways
3. don't neglect strength training; not only has it been shown most definitively to improve RE, but it will help keep you injury-free
4. Zach Miller is a fucking animal

If you're interested in this stuff, and want to read a much more coherent explanation of these variables than I can provide, try this post from the inimitable Ross Tucker.

And just a reminder to cast a vote for your friendly neighborhood Blogger of the Year.

Race Report: SOS4Kids

Sorry for the delay--this race took place over three months ago--but the munchkins take over the blog again to bring you their latest report:

This was the second triathlon I've done.  This was my first triathlon.  I ran / swam / biked a greater distance than she did. I swam eight laps, ran one mile, and biked four miles, and then ran another quarter of a mile.  I swam four laps, then ran half a mile, biked two miles, and then ran another quarter of a mile.  When I was at the first running part, a lot of stuff hurt, but only a little. However, when I got to the biking part, my legs started hurting a lot.  In the biking part of the race, I was kind of annoyed because I didn't have gears and I'm pretty sure that everyone else did.  During the bike, I felt like I had missed the turn around, because all of the uphills and downhills made the whole race seem a lot longer. I won a silver medal in my age group.  I was feeling great at the end of the race. I won a third place medal in my age group.

-Lexi and Dylan

Ultrarunner of the Year: My Ballot

This was the second time I was asked to vote for Ultrarunning magazine's Ultrarunner of the Year award, and I found this time around much harder than the first.  The men's and women's UROY were pretty obvious choices, but beyond that, narrowing down the rest of the top ten was exceedingly difficult.  Not to mention parsing the myriad fantastic races run this year to come up with the five best Performances of the Year.  And of course, just when I had settled on just about everything, last weekend happened and OH MY GOD.  It was pretty much back to the drawing board Monday morning.

One thing that made it a bit easier--or maybe harder?--was that for the first time, we were explicitly instructed by the powers-that-be that Fastest Known Time performances (FKTs) were not to be considered among the criteria for deciding UROY or POY.  This meant that several of the top contenders for POY, particularly on the men's side--Jim Walmsley's incredible R2R2R FKT, Pete Kostelnick's amazing transcontinental record, Karl Meltzer's FKT on the venerable Appalachian Trail, Jacob Puzey's 50 mile treadmill WR--were all out.  (For me, that effectively took Pete and Karl out of the running for UROY as well, though it didn't effect Jim's candidacy at all.)

There are about thirty voters, and the results are still being tabulated; the final results will be released on the Ultrarunning website starting in about a week.  For what it's worth, here are my picks.

Women's UROY
1. Kaci Lickteig
2. Magdalena Boulet
3. Caroline Boller
4. Courtney Dauwalter
5. Sarah Bard
6. Amy Sproston
7. Camille Herron
8. Maggie Guterl
9. Hillary Allen
10. Darcy Piceu

I found this category to be the toughest of all to compile my ballot.  This past weekend made it almost impossible; after Kaci, who was untouchable in 2016, I agonized over just about every spot on this list.  Toughest omissions for me: Katalin Nagy, Pam Smith, Gina Slaby, Devon Yanko, YiOu Wang, Jenny Hoffman, and Alissa St. Laurent.

Women's Performance of the Year
1. Gina Slaby, 100mi WR at Desert Solstice
2. Caroline Boller, 50mi trail world best at Brazos Bend
3. Katalin Nagy, dominant repeat win at Spartathlon
4. Sarah Bard, fourth place at Comrades
5. Hillary Allen, win at Cortina Trail ultramarathon

Felt like maybe I made up a bit here for leaving Gina and Katalin off the UROY ballot.  Tough to leave off Maggie's 100mi performance at Brazos Bend last weekend, Kaci's dominant win at Western States, and Cassie Scallon's course record at Bandera.

Women's Age Group Performance of the Year
1. Meghan Arbogast (55 years old), 100K age group WR at IAU World Championships
2. Meghan again, sixth place at Western States
3. Connie Gardner (52), win at Mohican 100
4. Beverly Anderson-Abbs (52), win (3:48) at Jed Smith 50K
5. Debra Horn (52), 170 miles in 48 hours (and the win) at Across the Years

Meghan's world age group record was an easy choice for me here, though I continue to have difficulty evaluating all of these performances across different age groups.

Men's UROY
1. Jim Walmsley
2. Jeff Browning
3. Zach Miller
4. Alex Nichols
5. Ian Sharman
6. Hayden Hawks
7. Dylan Bowman
8. Cody Reed
9. Brian Rusiecki
10. Andrew Miller

Just like for the women, Jim was an easy pick for the top spot; I'd honestly be a little surprised if he doesn't win unanimously.  And, just like the women, the next nine spots were a nightmare.  Almost too many difficult omissions to count; the toughest: Zach Bitter, Dave Laney, David Riddle, David Roche, Paddy O'Leary, Chase Nowak, Patrick Regan, Tim Tollefson, and Aaron Saft.

Men's Performance of the Year
1. Zach Bitter, 100mi American Record at 2015 Desert Solstice
2. Jim Walmsley, course record at JFK
3. Jim Walmsley at Western States
4. Tony Migliozzi, repeat winner at IAU 50K world championship
5. Tim Tollefson, third place at UTMB

Honestly, this was even harder than the women's POY for me.  Trying to choose between Walmsley course records was a thankless task; JFK got the nod given the history of the race, the number of legends who have taken on that course, and the fact that no one is within two fucking miles of that performance.  I couldn't leave off Jim's race at States either, which was the single most talked-about performance of the year, and the most dominant display that I've ever seen.  It may not be fair, but that's my vote.  I do hope Zach winds up winning this; it's unfair that people have kind of forgotten about DS last year, which was too late for 2015 voting.  Toughest omissions here were Zach Miller's crazy battle and win over Hayden Hawks at North Face, Jim at Bandera, Jim at Sonoma, Jason Schlarb at Hardrock, Geoff Burns' 6:30 100K at Mad City, and Patrick Regan's third place finish at IAU 100K worlds.

Men's Age Group Performance of the Year
1. David Jones (65 years old!), 17:34 100 mile at Tunnel Hill
2. Rich Hanna (51), age group national record (3:17) at Jed Smith 50K
3. Jean Pommier (52), 3:18 at Caumsett 50K
4. Ed Ettinghausen (57), 270 miles in 72 hours at Beyond Limits
5. Roger Jensen (66), 7:59 for 50 miles at JFK

You really could make an argument for any of these to be at the top of the list for me, and I wouldn't disagree with you.

So there you go.  Feel free to tell me what an idiot I am.  If you do, though, you must vote for me for Run Ultra's Blogger of the Year.  If you vote, you can go to the comments and call me whatever names you want.

The Importance of Being a Furnace*

"If the furnace was hot enough, anything would burn, even Big Macs."

"And too, there were the questions: What did he eat?  Did he believe in isometrics?  Isotonics?  Ice and heat?  How about aerobic, est, ESP, STP?  What did he have to say about yoga, yogurt, Yogi Berra?  What was his pulse rate, his blood pressure, his time for the 100-yard dash?  What was the secret, they wanted to know; in a thousand different ways they wanted to know The Secret."

--John L. Parker, Jr.

It seems like I can't escape diets.  Everywhere I look I'm reading about people's diets.  My Facebook feed is full of pictures of what all my ultra running friends are eating.  In interviews, the elite runners I listen to are constantly being asked about their diets.

Why?  Part of it is the American obsession with diet, sure, but it's more than that.  As the sport gets more competitive, we're all looking for an edge; that's part of it too, the hope that we can find an advantage, the secret.  But there's another factor at play, too: it seems like people want to tell other people what they are eating, and why everyone else should eat that way too.  This may be due to the economics of ultra running, still in its infancy as a professional sport for some; sponsorships in many cases are tied to an athlete's social media profile, and all those bloggers need something to write about.  (Guilty as charged.)  And social media by its very nature encourages this sort of food-based voyeurism.  (Though maybe you should stop.)  But there seems to be a proselytizing aspect to it as well, particularly in the ultra world; not only to people want you to know what they're eating, but they  want you to know that you should be eating that way, too!

I'm reminded a bit of the minimalism craze of the late aughts, after Born to Run came out, and everyone wanted to tell you (rather loudly) why you, too, should be running in Vibrams.  The two cases share some similarities.  In both, there is a lot of research out there that can be conflicting and confusing, and the scientific community can't seem to reach a consensus.  Acolytes on all sides of each issue spout one-size-fits-all solutions.  And interestingly, both problems seem like they should have a universal solution.  I mean, shouldn't there be an ideal diet to optimize performance?  Shouldn't there be an ideal way to run, to minimize injury?

But the fact that so many people are finding success with so many different approaches would imply that there is no universal answer.  There are world-class athletes on paleo/LCHF/OFM diets (Zach Bitter, Jeff Browning, Tim Olson, Nikki Kimball);  on vegetarian diets (Sage Canaday, Scott Jurek, Mike Wardian); on vegan diets (Sandi Nypaver, Yassine Diboun); on gluten-free diets (Devon Yanko); on gluten-free AND vegan diets (Laura Kline, probably some hamsters); on all-fruit diets (Denis Mikhaylove, Mike Arnstein), and everything in between.  I think the common denominator is not what these people are eating, it's that they've all found what works for them.  There are arguments to be made for almost any diet.  We have enough trouble identifying what a healthy diet is for regular people, let alone defining what ultra-endurance athletes should be eating to maximize performance.  The more I read and hear, the more I think that the specifics of what you eat don't matter.  What matters is that you're paying attention to it.  If you are cognizant of what you're putting in your body, of what is does to you, of how it makes you feel and how it affects your performance, you're going to figure out what works for you.  And that's the secret.  That's where the advantage is.

Having said all that, here's what I've been eating.

This is not to say what you should be eating.  I may be a hypocrite, but I'm not going to go on a rant about people telling other people what to eat and then contradict myself two paragraphs later.  (You'll have to wait at least two, three posts for that.)  This is because since I've started to pay attention to my diet, at the beginning of last year, and have found something that, for now, works for me, people have been asking me about it.

At the start of 2015, I started following a low-carb, ketogenic diet.  (I hesitate to say "high fat," because I'm not sure that I'm actually getting the 60-70% of calories from fat that most "experts" would recommend.)  There were several factors in play when making this decision.  Primarily, I wanted to be more mindful of what I was eating, to help control my weight and to aid in performance.  I wasn't overweight by any stretch, but at 5'6", I was having trouble staying under 145 pounds, and wasn't anywhere near the 135-lb race weight from my collegiate days that I thought was most beneficial for my running.  I had done some reading and talked to several people who had experienced success with the diet, and the scientific theory behind it seemed, at least, plausible to me.    And, crucially, (and in contrast to calorie-counting, vegetarianism, fruitarianism, etc.), it seemed like something I could adhere to for an extended period of time.

My experience with the diet mirrored a lot of what I had heard and read.  At first, I felt pretty crummy and my running went in the toilet for about three weeks.  After that I started running normally.  I lost weight and was able to keep it off without starving myself.  And I found in races that my energy levels stayed much more stable, and I was much less prone to "bonking," despite taking in fewer calories than I had previously.

I mentioned it on the blog, and a few people were curious, but then I started running well, and people started to get really curious. ("What was the secret, they wanted to know...")  Some of the more common questions:

Why do you eat that way?  What's the theory behind it?
I've mentioned above why I started with this diet; click the link for a longer discussion of my own personal reasons for the switch.  The science behind a low-carb diet for athletes, which certainly in dispute, makes sense (to me at least) in theory.  For strenuous exercise, the body depends primarily on carbohydrates, and is most efficient at using carbohydrates as fuel.  You can burn fat, but if you eat a standard diet, probably not efficiently enough to use it as a primary fuel source, particularly in races.  Why does this matter?  Well, your body can store about 2000-2500 kcal of carbohydrate (in the form of glycogen).  At about 100 kcal/mile (about what it takes to run a mile, regardless of pace, believe it or not), that means you can go about 20-25 miles before depleting your glycogen and needing to replenish it.  For most exercise, this doesn't matter; you can run a marathon, or close to it, without worrying about taking in too many exogenous calories.  But for an ultra, you'll need a lot of calories, and getting those calories in can be a problem.

The theory behind a low-carb diet is that, over time, if deprived of carbohydrates, the body will actually become more efficient at burning fat--almost as efficient as it is at burning carbohydrates.  And the body stores way, way more calories as fat than it does as carbohydrates, like twenty times more.  The thinking is, if we can tap into those fat stores efficiently, we give the body an alternative fuel sources as races reach beyond the 2-3 hour mark, and decrease our reliance on taking calories in as we run.

Now, whether or not that's true is a matter of great debate.  (As is whether or not eating a low-carb diet is even necessary to become "fat-adapted" in the first place.)  But many athletes have anecdotally reported that they are able to run longer despite taking in fewer calories after switching to the diet.

What do you eat?
This is an easy one because it never really changes.  For breakfast, scrambled eggs with cheese, or an omelette with cheese and tomato, and usually bacon or some meat.  For lunch, a salad with whatever fat or protein I can put on it (cottage cheese, turkey, pork, hard-boiled eggs, etc.).  Dinner is almost invariably some sort of meat dish: chicken with vegetables, steak, burger without a bun.  Lots of vegetables with creamy dressings or dips.  Snacks are nuts (peanuts aren't the best choice, but they're really the only nuts I like) or cheese, maybe some lunch meat.  Dessert is whipped cream.  I mean, like, straight whipped cream, right out of the can.  I can kind of go overboard with it sometimes, but even half a can is less than 20g of carbs, and usually 3-4 mouthfuls will satisfy the sweet cravings.  I drink water and Diet Coke.  Once in a while I'll drink a low-sugar hot chocolate (that's like 4g of carbs).  I know Diet Coke is terrible for me but what else can I do?  I've tried to like coffee and tea so many times and I just can't do it.

How many/few carbs do you eat?
I'm not really sure.  A big part of my success with the diet is not being overly scientific or strict about it.  Many people I know track their carbs obsessively, but I know myself, and if I tried to be anal about it, there's no way I could ever stay with it.  (I downloaded an app to track my different "macros" but had to give up after a day.)  The recommendations I read from Phinney and Volek (which is a very good starting point in my opinion) is less than 50g/day for the first 2-3 weeks, then under 100g/day for "maintenance."  I can say with some confidence that I'm well below those guidelines, but I'm not zero.  If I had to guess, I'm probably usually in the 30-40g/day range.

Were you/are you able to train on that?  Do you use carbs in training or racing?
As I said before, it took me a good 3-4 weeks before I could really train the way I wanted to.  I was able to run mileage without a problem, but any kind of intensity--even just running slowly uphill--was a giant struggle.  This passed after about a month and then I was back to normal in terms of my training.  But it was a frustrating time.

I don't use carbs in training.  Many low-carb athletes do, including Zach Bitter, who uses specific carbs for specific, targeted workouts.  I don't do that for a couple of reasons.  For one, I'm a bit leery of jumping on and off the carbs.  In general, when I've taken a "cheat day" or had a couple of beers, I won't notice any ill effects, but I'd rather not make a habit out of it.  (Plus, if I'm going to have carbs, I want to really glutton it up.  You know, pizza, ice cream, the whole deal.  I'm not wasting carbs on a baked potato.)  Second, I don't like assigning a ton of value to any specific workout, to the point where I feel like I need the carbs to get the workout done.  If the workout doesn't come off like I want it to, so be it.  But mostly I just need to keep this simple.  Complicating it by adding carbs "strategically" is just another barrier to me sticking with it.

I do use carbs in racing, though, as many (if not most) low-carb athletes do.  My general race strategy is, a carbo-load the night before (to top off the glycogen stores); no carbs for breakfast--eggs and meat, as usual--and no carbs for the first hour of the race (usually just water).  After that, anything goes.  Gels still work fine for me, and I'll do some real food at aid stations--banana, PBJ, pretzels, broth, whatever.

I've heard that after you stop eating carbs and sugar, your body doesn't even want it anymore.  Is that true?
Ha.  Hahahahahaha.
No.

Does it really work?
Dunno.  It works for me.

*My apologies to Oscar Wilde.  I wanted a pithy title.

Blogger of the Year!

Not to toot my own horn, but...well, yes, to toot my own horn.  I'm very excited (and confused) to announce that I've been shortlisted by RunUltra for their (prestigious?) Blogger of the Year award.

Honestly, this is a great honor, and I'm a bit humbled by my inclusion (though not too humbled; I'm still kind of an insufferable jerk about this sort of thing) on a list of many great blogs which I myself enjoy.  However, I'm certainly not so humbled that I don't want to win!  So if you enjoy my (and Lexi's; this whole blog was her idea) ramblings, please consider voting for me.  It's a little confusing; when you vote, highlight my name/blog, then you have to scroll down to the bottom of the page and enter your name and email address.

You can only vote once per email address, and once per computer (or computer user), but if you have multiple users on a computer with separate logins, and/or multiple email addresses, that seems kosher.  So, if you like the blog, please vote.  If you really like it, have your kid/spouse/significant other log on and vote too.  If you love it, vote from your home computer and your work computer.  If you really love it, vote from the computer of the guy who sits next to you at work, then go to your local library on the way home and vote there.

In case you didn't get the hint above, here's the link to vote.

Thanks for the support.  I know you always laugh at actors when they say about an Oscar, "Just being nominated is an honor," but that's actually true, and it's just nice to be recognized among the many other great ultrarunning blogs out there.  But winning is nice too.

Fall Racing Recap

Just a quick post to let you know what I've been up to...

Following the North Coast 24 hour, it took nearly a week for the swelling to subside enough to see my ankles again, and another week of sore, easy jogging until I started feeling somewhat back to normal.  Within a couple of weeks, though, I was back on the track, helping Laura prepare for her crack at TNF, and starting to feel pretty good.  With some low-key local events offering a nice opportunity to socialize with friends and training partners, I put together a small fall season to keep myself fresh and engaged in preparation for my next big outing.

Dr. Mike's Doggie Duathlon photo: Michele Halstead

First up was the inaugural Dr. Mike Doggie Duathlon.  Dr. Mike is one of my great friends and training buddies, and a true legend of the local triathlon scene; he is a multiple-time USAT All-America and has been ranked #1 nationally in his age group.   For the past several years Mike has battled MS, though it hasn't been much of a fight; he basically did not let it slow him down at all, and if anything has actually gotten a bit faster, at least in the running discipline.  Mike put in a great winter of training and was in great shape heading into the spring, only to be blindsided with a diagnosis of metastatic melanoma.  He's battled on and appears to be making great headway, and is still in great shape; I run with him at least twice a week, and he hasn't lost a step despite surgery and chemotherapy.  So this duathlon was a great celebration of Mike and his incredible spirit and determination, as well as a fundraiser for the Melanoma Research Foundation.

My plan was to tune up the CX bike and cruise my way through an easy, fun day at the back of the back.   Unfortunately Phil had other ideas; he had just finished an epic day at Grindstone and wasn't up for running, so he badgered me into joining him on a relay team.  I ran the two 2-mile legs while Phil took care of the 12-mile bike segment.  This was theoretically a great idea, but it ensured that I'd have to run hard to put on a good show/not embarrass myself.  There was a challenge from a young post-collegian on the first leg, and I had to work pretty hard in cold, rainy conditions to split 11:11 for the opening two miles, giving Phil about a 20-second lead.  Phil managed one of the fastest bike splits of the day and gave me back the baton with enough cushion that I could run a relaxed, tempo-type effort on the second leg to secure an easy team victory.

Gump, at the start of the Monster Sprint photo: Martin Weiner

Eight days later I abandoned Jodi and the girls in the midst of trick-or-treating for the New Paltz Monster Sprint.  Halloween is a big deal in our weird little town, with haunted houses, pumpkin-carving contests, and a huge parade that shuts down Main Street for much of the evening.  This was the second year that the Monster Sprint led off the parade; this is a one-mile out-and-back race from the finish of the parade, uphill to the start of the parade, and back down to the finish.  I figured I'd have a built-in advantage as Forrest Gump, but I didn't count on 4:05 miler Joe Gentsch showing up dressed as the Flash.  I was able to hang with Joe for the opening, uphill half-mile, actually leading for a few strides and making the turn only about three seconds behind, but he put me away quickly and easily on the way back down, running 4:50 to my 5:12.  Second place was enough to nab one of the very cool, real marble, headstone-shaped awards, though, so I was pretty happy with that.

Six days later Laura and I were the co-RDs for yet another ridiculous undertaking, the Apple Cider Donut Challenge.  Following on the heels of the New Paltz Pizza Challenge, we conceived a 50K loop that incorporated stops at six different orchards, each of which made their own apple cider donuts.  Each runner would have to eat two donuts at each stop for a dozen total donuts, or face time penalties for failure to finish them.  Time bonuses were awarded for drinking hard cider at those orchards that make their own.

Four donuts to go. photo: Martin Weiner

We weren't really sure if anyone else would show up, but as it turned out, ten of us took off on a beautiful Saturday morning to eat our way around New Paltz and Gardiner.  Laura and I ran together and opened up a quick lead after the first donut stop, less than a mile into the race.  The course was mostly road and rail trail, and therefore didn't require any real marking except for one tricky section of trail, about half a mile long, that I had flagged with surveyor's tape the previous day.  Unfortunately, when we reached that section (just before donut stop #2, at the six-mile mark), the marks had all been taken down.  I let Laura run ahead and stopped to escort the rest of the field through that section, which was very difficult to follow due to thick leaf cover; by the time I reached the second orchard with the last of the stragglers, Laura had over twenty minutes on me, with Joe Gentsch (attempting his first-ever run of longer than 16 miles) following close behind her.  I settled into a nice, solid tempo, and eventually reeled in most of the field; by the fifth orchard (21 miles, donuts 9-10) I was only a few minutes behind Joe.  Those two donuts were pretty rough, though, compounded by the fact that I felt compelled to drink some cider, as I knew Joe had.  I started to struggle over the next few miles, wishing I could vomit but unable to make myself do it, and was doubting my ability to catch Joe--until I jogged into the final donut stop at mile 25 and found him sitting on a stone fence, caked in dried sweat, with a blank, glassy look in his eyes and half of a donut hanging out of his mouth.

Sometimes we forget that ultras are hard.

The fall stretch concluded, as always for me, with the Rockland Alumni XC Run, a 5K cross-country race at Bear Mountain with a team competition for alumni of Rockland-area high schools.  As always, this is one of my favorite days of the year, and the race is simultaneously one of the most fun and most painful experiences I have each season.  I have a separate website for that race, though, so I won't bore you here.

Generally it was a good fall, mixing these fun, slightly harder efforts in with a good solid training base.  None of these races required a taper or any extended recovery, so I've been able to build back up fairly consistently, and training is going pretty well heading into the winter; I'm pointing to Rocky Raccoon in February as my next big effort, so it will require a big push training-wise between now and then.  I'll have a few more posts coming before the end of the year, so keep checking back, and good luck to everyone in the lotteries this weekend.

Ultrarunner Xmas: A TNF Preview

image: Lake Run Club

After surviving Thanksgiving with the North Carolina branch of the family (we're really not sure how everyone voted), I can finally turn my attention to Christmas.  I know, I can hear you from here: But aren't you Jewish? Of course I am!  Where did you think that nose came from?  I'm not talking about December 25.  I'm talking about the the first Saturday in December, the most hotly anticipated day on the ultrarunning calendar (after the last weekend in June).  The two biggest lotteries in the sport both take place while the top runners in the world are battling it out at the season's unofficial finale, the North Face championships in the Marin Headlands outside San Francisco.

There's no real point in delving into the lotteries right now.  You can read about the lottery procedures for States and Hardrock.  The latter is a race that I'd love to pace one day--maybe this year if Brian or Phil gets in--but really have no interest in running myself.  States, though...I won't be able to retire until I get into that one.  Based on the odds, it's going to be a couple of years.

So let's ignore those depressing statistics and focus on the amazing battle that will take place on Saturday, as the deepest fields of the year on both the men's and women's side get ready to throw down, chasing the $10,000 winner's purse and a shot at UROY consideration (though I think Jim and Kaci might have those in the bag already).  iRunfar has their men's and women's previews up, and will be providing live coverage as usual on Saturday.  Here are one fan's picks:

Ladies
The last two women's winners, Magdalena Boulet and Megan Kimmel, return for the rubber match in 2016.  Nine of the current GUR top 50 are in the field, second in depth only to WS100 this year.

1. Megan Kimmel
Current GUR rank: 58
2015 TNF finish: 1
The defending champ and skyrunning specialist has displayed fine form all year long.  I hesitate to pick against Magda, but Megan's results this year, combined with what was honestly a dominant performance last year, make her a slight favorite in my mind.

2. Magdalena Boulet
Current GUR rank: 10
2015 TNF finish: DNF
This season has not quite lived up to the dominating standard she set in 2014-2015, and even with a win here, she won't be able to unseat Kaci Lickteig to retain her GUR #1 ranking from last season.  But she still has the strongest credentials in the field at any distance, and her most recent big race (fifth at UTMB) was her best of the year.

3. Ruth Croft
Current GUR rank: NA
2015 TNF finish: 4
The Taiwanese-based athlete doesn't qualify for the GUR (I guess I'll have to change that for 2017) and flies a bit below the radar being somewhat hidden in the Far East.  But she backed up an impressive win at CCC with a fourth-place finish in 2015, and this year was third at Transvulcania.

4. Cassie Scallon
Current GUR rank: 17
2015 TNF finish: DNF
A 50-mile specialist of sorts and a former Sonoma champ, she's had a bit of an up-and-down year, but her dominant CR performance at Bandera, a top-20 at Comrades, and a relatively light race schedule this fall (she's raced only one ultra since mid-August) have me thinking she'll be rested and ready to contend for the podium.

5. Ida Nilsson
Current GUR rank: NA
2015 TNF finish: NA
The Swedish dynamo has won both the Rut 50K and Transvulcania this year; she should be in the hunt for the podium in this very deep field.

6. Lindsay Tollefson
Current GUR rank: 113
2015 TNF finish: NA
The only woman in the field with the flat speed credentials to rival Magda, has relatively little experience at the distance, but certainly has the chops.

7. Keely Henninger
Current GUR rank: 47
2015 TNF finish: 7
A very consistent year, with a win at Black Canyon and top finishes against stout fields at Gorge Waterfalls and Chuckanut.

8. Laura Kline
Current GUR rank: 42
2015 TNF finish: NA
I speak from personal experience when I say that she is an absolute beast and is going to be very, very tough.

9. Sarah Keys
Current GUR rank: 20
2015 TNF finish: NA
Another Skyrunning specialist, she certainly has the strength to handle the 11,000 feet of climbing on this course.

10. Emily Peterson
Current GUR rank: 45
2015 TNF finish: 5
Another top returner from last year, has been remarkably consistent this season.

Hedging my bets
11. Kasie Enman
12. Stephanie Howe Violett
13. Sandi Nypaver
14. Anna Mae Flynn
15. Helene Michaux

Dudes
Eleven of the current GUR top 50, including (as with the women) the last two winners--Sage Canaday and Zach Miller--will line up on Saturday.  This will mark the first-ever meeting between Miller and Jim Walmsley, the odds-on favorite to be named the 2016 UROY.

1. Jim Walmsley
Current GUR rank: 1
2015 TNF finish: NA
How could you pick against him?  His only loss this year came when he ran off course at WS100 while on CR pace, with a one-hour lead, with less than 10 miles to go.  He has SEVEN course records this year, including a massive takedown of Max King's JFK CR two weeks ago.

2. Zach Miller
Current GUR rank: 32
2015 TNF finish: 1
The prospect of Zach and Jim--both speedsters with a penchant for running off the front--going head to head has most ultra fans salivating.  I wouldn't pick anyone over last year's champ/CR holder--except Walmsley.  Plus, Zach hasn't raced since UTMB in August, though I can't imagine he'd be here if he wasn't recovered and ready.

3. Sage Canaday
Current GUR rank: 34
2015 TNF finish: NA
The 2014 TNF champ, Sage has only three ultras to his credit this season, including a win at Black Canyon and a third at Transvulcania, before blowing up a bit following Jim's insane pace at WS en route to an 11th-place finish.  He's had some excellent results in short tuneups on the trails this fall.  It'll be interesting to see how he deals with what will likely be a very aggressive pace early on.

4. Hayden Hawks
Current GUR rank: 46
2015 TNF finish: NA
The surprise winner at Speedgoat this year, he was also fourth at the World Mountain Running Championships, and like Walmsley (and several others in the field) has blazing track speed.

5. Alex Nichols
Current GUR rank: 13
2015 TNF finish: DNF
He's not the most consistent runner in the field, but when he's right, he's very dangerous.  And this year, he's been awfully right, including a runner-up finish at Speedgoat and a win at Run Rabbit Run.

6. Cody Reed
Current GUR rank: 10
2015 TNF finish: NA
Three huge wins this year: Miwok, Tamalpa, and UROC.

7. Miguel Heras
Current GUR rank: NA
2015 TNF finish: NA
He's a two-time TNF winner, though not since 2012; at 41, he's not the every-race force he used to be.  But a win at Les Templiers this fall shows he's ready to go.

8. David Laney
Current GUR rank: 121
2015 TNF finish: NA
The 2015 UROY has had a quiet year, but showed his form with a fourth-place finish at UTMB in August.

9. Paddy O'Leary
Current GUR rank: 30
2015 TNF finish: 13
This northern California racer is tough and fearless, and he knows the course well.

10. Coree Woltering
Current GUR rank: 52
2015 TNF finish: NA
Was a top-20 contender even before three weeks ago, when he smoked a solo 5:30 at the Tunnel Hill 50-mile.

Hedging my bets
11. Jorge Maravilla
12. Tim Freriks
13. Dan Kraft
14. Brendan Trimboli
15. Eric Senseman

Sponsors

Mountain Peak Fitness/Red Newt Racing

I was invited in early 2015 to join the MPF/RNR team, a joint venture between two amazing running companies.  Mountain Peak Fitness is a coaching/training/adventure services company owned by Elizabeth and Joe Azze, two unbelievable folks who are incredibly giving of their time, energy, and considerable expertise.   Red Newt Racing is a race direction/promotion service company headed by the tireless Ian Golden, responsible for many iconic trail races in the Northeast, including the Cayuga Trails 50 Mile (the US trail championships) and the Whiteface Skyrunning Festival (a lynchpin of the US Skyrunning circuit).  The team is jammed with incredible athletes, among whom I am solidly in the mid-pack; but more than the collection of sheer talent is the camaraderie and the family atmosphere among this amazing group.  Running with this team in 2015 was a great joy for me and I couldn't be happier to keep mixing it up with this group.

In addition to the two companies at the forefront of our team, we're fortunate to receive support as well from GU, Merrell, Ultimate Direction, Finger Lakes Running Company, and Run On Hudson Valley.

inov-8: Home of the Committed Athlete

I've had some excellent relationships with shoe sponsors (including the fine support I receive from Merrell via Team MPF/RNR, and the strong relationship I built with Salming in 2015), but in my nearly ten years of ultra running, I have not found a consistently better brand of shoes than inov-8.  Well-regarded across the pond as one of the greatest fell-running brands in the business, inov-8 has branched out into road running and Cross-Fit shoes, but their bread and butter remains the trails.  This is the only brand of shoe I want to train and race in, and representing them will be a great privilege for me.

Orange Mud: Ultralight Hydration

I'm lucky enough to have support from two great companies when it comes to solving my on-the-run hydration and fueling needs.  Ultimate Direction has given the MPF/RNR team great support, but I also value my relationship with Orange Mud, an innovative company on the forefront of the running-gear scene.  Their signature product, the HydraQuiver, is a brilliant, no-bounce, insanely light hydration pack.  They also make bags, apparel, and life hacks like the Transition and Seat Wrap.  I’m happy to be included in the crazy world of this fun-loving outdoor company!

Dr. Greg Cecere, the owner of Momentum Physical Therapy, is a brilliant PT who specializes in running injuries, pain, dysfunction, and injury prevention.  I'm honored to support Greg and work with him to help promote a healthy, injury-free lifestyle for the residents of the Hudson Valley.

Yard Owl Craft Brewery: Wisdom by the Pint

Everyone else gets to have a beer sponsor.  Why shouldn’t I get a beer sponsor?  And Sage, you can keep your Maharaja DIPA.  I’ve got the best beer in the world: world-class, hand-crafted Belgian-style ales right here in New Paltz, NY.

Momentum Physical Therapy

I'm very happy to announce a new sponsorship of sorts; hopefully more of a partnership really.  I've been working off and on over the past few months with Dr. Greg Cecere at Momentum Physical Therapy in New Paltz, and we've decided to make him an official part of the Gunksrunner family.

A New Paltz native, Greg studied at the University of Delaware and then worked closely in New York alongside Chris Johnson, a well-known PT among runners in the city.  He opened Momentum, his private practice, upon returning to New Paltz a few years ago and has built a loyal following in the area.  Greg is a fairly accomplished runner himself, and many of his clients are runners (including Harbert Okuti, who Greg helped to top-20 finishes at Boston and New York this year), but he sees all manner of athletes and non-athletes alike.

photo: Lacey Seidman

Greg is not your average physical therapist.  While he certainly uses modalities familiar to anyone with PT experience, much of his philosophy and treatment relies upon his extensive knowledge and understanding of the mechanisms that underlie pain and dysfunction.  Of particular importance in this respect is the role that the brain and the nervous system plays in our perception of pain.  Greg understands this better than any health professional I've ever met, and is adept at tailoring treatment and recovery plans that adhere to these principles.

In addition to sports injuries, Greg treats patients for injury prevention, stride and gait analysis, post-surgical rehab, orthopedic rehab, and chronic pain.  He even makes house calls.  Last month he fixed a very persistent "lace bite" injury that had been bothering me for over a month after North Coast in basically two sessions.  Right now we're working on a chronic Achilles issue I've been ignoring for the past couple of years.  True to form, Greg is working on the neurologic pathways that govern feedback and pain responses, using noxious stimuli and movement retraining.

One aspect of treatment I'm eager to explore more with Greg is a pre-race routine that we tried prior to Cayuga Trails this spring.  I was in great shape and ready for a huge day, and Greg proposed a treatment that he thought might help spur me to reach my full potential on that day.  Unfortunately, I came down with Lyme disease (again!) the week before the race, so we never really got to see how that worked out.  I won't say too much more about it right now, but we're going to try again with some upcoming races in January/February, and I'll go into some more detail then.

Greg is a great guy and is completely dedicated to his patients.  I'm very excited to explore avenues by which we can advance this partnership moving forward.  In the coming weeks and months, I'll hopefully feature some of Greg's writing on this site, as well as some videos.  As I get up and running with my sports cardiology/exercise physiology career (more on that later as well, stay tuned), I'll be partnering with Greg to offer comprehensive coaching and sports medicine services, including PT, stride/gait analysis, and injury prevention and recovery.

Gunksrunner Ultra Rankings: Fall Update

I've kept the ultra rankings posts to a minimum this year; now that they have a somewhat permanent residence at Ultrarunning magazine, it doesn't seem as crucial to have them on the blog, since you can view the updated rankings anytime you want.  But as a service to those who haven't found their way over there yet, or as a reminder for those who have, I figured now would be a good time to bring everyone up to speed on where we stand with about ten weeks of racing left in the 2016 season.  (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, head over to the Ultrarunning link above for a summary of how the rankings work, or just click the "ultra national rankings" label at the bottom of this post to see everything I've posted about it in the past.

photo: Myke Hermsmeyer

Since winning Bandera on January 6, Jim Walmsley has dominated this year's GUR.  He holds a commanding lead of nearly 50 points on second-ranked Ian Sharman, who is putting together another fantastic season.  (That doesn't even take into account Jim's recent demolition of Rob Krar's RTR FKT.)  Last year's #1, Brian Rusiecki, sits in third and should pick up some points at Hellgate in early December.  WS100 champ Andrew Miller is fourth.  A mere 3.5 points separate second through fourth on the men's side.  Walmsley and Miller are both slated to run at the North Face championships in early December, which will probably decide most of the final places in the top 10.

photo: Belinda Agamaite

WS champ Kaci Lickteig, ranked #5 in the 2015 GUR, is even more dominant on the womens' side than Walmsley is on the mens'.  She leads Lake Sonoma winner YiOu Wang by over 100 points; even if YiOu can outrun everyone at TNF, catching Kaci may be impossible.  Kaci has had an extraordinary season, with six wins from seven starts; her only loss was a second-place finish at Sonoma.  I'd be hard-pressed to imagine anyone other than Kaci and Jim taking home this year's UROY awards.

Anyway, below is the current top 50 men and women; totals are up-to-date through this past weekend.  As always, you can view the entire list here, which is updated each week usually around Thursday or Friday.  Use the CTRL-F function on the rankings sheets to find your own name; there are over 3500 men and almost 3200 women ranked so far.

	Men	State	Points	Women	State	Points
1	Jim Walmsley	AZ	194.125	Kaci Lickteig	NE	223.9
2	Ian Sharman	CA	148.5	YiOu Wang	CA	119
3	Brian Rusiecki	MA	147	Kathleen Cusick	FL	101.4
4	Andrew Miller	OR	145	Amy Sproston	OR	100.5
5	Dylan Bowman	CA	129.875	Devon Yanko	CA	93.2
6	Paul Terranova	TX	104	Courtney Dauwalter	CO	81.5
7	Christopher Dennucci	CA	100.725	Bethany Patterson	VA	79.3
8	Jeff Browning	OR	94.4	Magdalena Boulet	CA	78.5
9	Mark Hammond	UT	80.3	Alissa St. Laurent	Canada	72
10	Cody Reed	AZ	78.5	Hillary Allen	CO	71.825
11	Jesse Haynes	CA	76.7	Julie Koepke	TX	70.375
12	David Roche	CA	76	Amanda Basham	OR	70
13	Alex Nichols	CO	75.375	Jodee Adams-Moore	WA	68.25
14	Tim Tollefson	CA	73.1	Cassie Scallon	CO	67.925
15	Mario Mendoza	OR	65.9	Kelly Wolf	AZ/CO	66.7
16	Jason Schlarb	CO	64.8	Camille Herron	OK/MI	62.7
17	Kyle Pietari	MA	64.5	Sarah Keys	NY	60.75
18	Matt Flaherty	IN	63.35	Corinne Malcolm	WA	60.25
19	Tim Freriks	AZ	62.125	Maggie Guterl	PA	60
20	Chris Mocko	CA	60.375	Megan Roche	CA	60
21	Jared Burdick	NY	58.5	Nicole Kalogeropoulos	TX	59.85
22	Dakota Jones	CO	55.5	Sarah Bard	WA	59.3
23	Tyler Sigl	WI	54.9	Neela D'Souza	Canada	59.2
24	Michael Daigeaun	PA	53	Darcy Piceu	CO	57.375
25	Dominick Layfield	UT	52.55	Sabrina Little	TX	54.5
26	Aaron Saft	NC	52.375	Anna Mae Flynn	CA	54.3
27	Jorge Pacheco	CA	52.2	Kaytlyn Gerbin	WA	51.875
28	Jason Lantz	PA	49.9	Caroline Boller	CA	51.5
29	Zach Miller	CO	49.4	Clare Gallagher	CO	50.8
30	Stephen Wassather	CA	49	Amy Rusiecki	MA	50.625
31	Sage Canaday	CO	47.25	Abby Rideout	UT	49.7
32	Brett Hornig	OR	45.4	Beverly Anderson-Abbs	CA	49
33	Ryan Bak	OR	44	Erika Lindland	CA	48.8
34	Morgan Elliot	NC	43.2	Darla Askew	OR	46.6
35	Olivier Leblond	VA	43	Lee Conner	OH	42.9
36	Masazumi Fujioka	WA	42	Emily Peterson	CA	42.85
37	Daniel Metzger	CA	41.25	Pam Smith	OR	42.5
38	Chikara Omine	CA	40.1	Denise Bourassa	OR	42.425
39	Chase Nowak	MN	40	Keely Henninger	OR	42.225
40	David Herr	VT	39.8	Laura Kline	NY	41
41	Cody Lind	ID	39	Jenny Hoffman	MA	40.5
42	Patrick Caron	MA	39	Ellie Greenwood	Canada	40
43	Paddy O'Leary	CA	38.75	Maggie Walsh	CO	40
44	Ed Ettinghausen	CA	38.4	Joelle Vaught	ID	39.5
45	Caleb Denton	TN	38	Katalin Nagy	FL	39
46	Chris Vargo	AZ	37.375	Megan Kimmel	CO	39
47	Michael Owen	OH	37.25	Traci Falbo	IN	38.6
48	Adrian Stanciu	CO	35.35	Alicia Shay	AZ	37.75
49	Hayden Hawkes	UT	35	Anne-Marie Maddon	Canada	37
50	Pete Kostelnick	NE	35	Krissy Moehl	WA	37
				Liz Bauer	SC	37

Does Ultrarunning Make You a Better Person?

I recently read an article in Ultrarunning magazine by Canadian athlete Tory Scholz, titled "Running 100 Miles Will Not Make You a Better Person."  Tory relates that part of her reason for pursing the sport was her hope that by running ultra distances, she would achieve a Zen-like state, leading to some degree of enlightenment, making her "a better person."  On self-reflection, she states that running has, in fact, not made her a better person.  She admits that she has learned some things about herself through running, but isn't convinced that she wouldn't have learned these things anyway.  She loves running, but does not see that it has improved her in any way "as a human being."

In some respects I can understand what Tory is saying.  I've never "seen God" or achieved enlightenment on a run either (though that has never been a motivation for me).  If I measured self-improvement in that way, I'd be disappointed as well.  And in some ways I agree with her.  Running is very much a selfish endeavor, one that many of us pursue to the detriment of our relationships with those around us.  I can say almost unequivocally that running has had, in many respects, a negative impact on my roles as a father, husband, and friend, simply due to the amount of time and energy I've dedicated to it over the past twenty-five years.

But while the outsized role that ultra running plays in my life can sometimes become overwhelming, running is also integral to who I am as a person.  Whether or not it has made me a "better person" is debatable.  For one, how do I quantify that?  No, running has not taught me the meaning of life, but I never expected that of it.  No, it has not made me a better father or husband.  But it has helped me to better appreciate the time I spend with my family, has helped me to be more present in those moments.  Running ultras balances my life to some extent; the physical and mental fitness I've honed through hours on the trail provide a reserve for many long overnights in the ER.

Tory writes:

"If I haven’t become a better person, then what have I been doing over these years? Well, a lot of running. Thinking about running. Talking about running. Adventuring. Challenging myself. Pushing limits. Seeing fascinating pieces of our land. Exploring mountains. Cannot say I am a better person because of it."

To me, challenging oneself, pushing limits, and exploring fascinating places sounds like an excellent path to self-improvement, learning, and discovery.  For Tory, it hasn't led to enlightenment, and I hope that for her this does not mean it hasn't been worthwhile.  Ultra running has not given me enlightenment either, nor has it made me wiser, more compassionate, or more charitable.  And so maybe Tory is right.  It has not made me a better "human being."  But it has made me a better "me."

Race Report: North Coast 24

I'm having a difficult time starting this post. Just the idea of a 24 hour race was so foreign to me even six months ago that I'm not sure where it came from. In January I ran my longest race ever, the Bandera 100K; those 9+ hours remained the longest run I had ever done. How did I decide to run a race that would be another 1.5 times that duration?

For one, Bandera confirmed for me that I did have some aptitude for the longer stuff; with a somewhat conservative start, I had gotten (relatively) stronger as the race went on, running some of my fastest miles past the 55-mile mark and moving up through the field throughout the race. My training partners' focus on longer races helped nudge me in that direction as well. Brian's runner-up finish at Burning River in 2015 was eye-opening, even though he had a wealth of experience at the distance; and Phil, despite having run his first 50k in January 2015, was already talking about his first 100, at Grindstone in October. I ran my first ultra in 2006. It was time to get on board.

The 24 hour format seemed to suit me, at least in theory. I've never minded races on loop courses; I was not put off by the idea of monotony. And I was looking forward to running at night. Most everyone I spoke to cautioned me that I would experience a lull in the early morning hours. But with my usual unpredictable schedule, heavy on night shifts, my body was not only primed for action at 3am, but was very familiar with 24-30 hours without sleep. Where others struggled, I could gain an advantage simply by continuously moving forward.

I didn't have the ideal training buildup that I'd had before Bandera; my bout with Lyme disease in May and June meant I didn't get into heavy training until about 10 weeks before the race. But once August rolled around I was in a rhythm; I was able to bang out several weeks between 95-110 miles, peaking at 120 two weeks out. Not quite as many hard workouts as I'd like, but some good quality track work with Laura and Phil. I'd say it was about 90% of the ideal prep I'd had for Bandera. It would have to do.

I flew to Cleveland on Friday afternoon and spent most of the day in my hotel room trying not to freak myself out too much. Joe Fejes' race preview picked me to finish 14th among the men, which sounded a little low until I read through everyone's credentials and realized, Geez, I might really be in over my head here. Just be patient and keep moving forward, I told myself, and let the chips fall where they will.

I took my first-ever Uber ride to the race on Saturday morning and met up with my friend and sometime training partner Jim Sweeney, who was gunning for 150 miles and a spot on the US team for next year's world championships. Jim's dad Steve would also be running, and his girlfriend Bri and stepmom Ginny graciously offered to help crew me in addition to Jim and Steve. The biggest concern early on was the weather. Threatening and overcast all morning, the skies opened up thirty minutes before the start. We huddled under our pop-up tent, hoping that we wouldn't have to start in the deluge. The forecast called for rain on and off all day, but mercifully it let up about five minutes before 9 am, and we started in a light drizzle that tapered off over the first few miles. That was about it for the rain the rest of the way.

Before the race, I had told anyone who asked that the goal was 100 miles, and that anything over that would be a bonus. Which was true; after the first 10 hours and 62 miles, I'd be in completely unknown territory. But I knew that I should be able to do 100 miles on a flat loop without too much difficulty. I didn't want to base my race strategy around just getting to 100. I set myself a pie-in-the-sky goal of 140 miles, the minimum qualification standard for the national team--just over 10:00/mile pace. To do this, I'd need to go out a little faster, knowing I'd slow down later. I decided that I could run as fast as 9:10-9:15 pace in the early miles without the pace itself doing too much damage. Anything faster than that, I risked blowing up from the pace, not just the mileage. My strategy, therefore, was 9:10 pace for, well, basically as long as I could, then reassess.  Jim had decided to start by running 9:45 pace for the first six hours, then planned to run negative splits through the evening and into the night.  I didn't trust myself not to slow down, so I settled into my 9:10 pace and tried to make the time pass.

I spent the early miles running with a variety of folks.  I ran a few laps with Megan Alvarado (nee Stegemiller), an accomplished 100-mile racer from Virginia, and Andrew Snope, a huarache-wearing pre-race favorite from Georgia with a previous 136-mile 24-hour to his credit.  When our pace started to creep down towards 9:00/mile, though, I backed off a bit and let them go.  I focused on fueling and on keeping the effort level as easy as possible.  Whenever I felt any sort of increase in effort, I backed off.  Ginny and Bri kept me well-hydrated as the day heated up, and the miles crept by.  Ten miles in 1:31, twenty in 3:03, thirty in 4:34...just running the 9:10s, not worried about place, trying to get through each 6-hour block with minimal effort and just move onto the next one.

photo: Stuart Siegfried

Running has never been a transcendental pursuit for me.  I enjoy the mental aspects of the sport, and I can certainly attest to times when I've been "in the zone."  But I didn't come to the sport seeking enlightenment.  I run because I enjoy it, because I've had some modicum of success at it, because I like the competition.  After five or six hours on this paved, 0.9-mile loop, though, I found myself in a very unusual headspace.  I realized I was not thinking about anything at all except my pace, my effort level, and my fueling; everything else had been stripped away.  My life was simply this loop and getting around it as easily as possible.  It was very Zen.

As we passed the six-hour mark I started to globalize a bit and these feelings fell away.  Pace became my all-consuming thought.  I had covered 39 miles in the first six hours, exactly wha I had hoped for. The next six-hour block called for something similar, on the order of 35-38 miles, hoping for a 12-hour total in the high 70s.  I continued on, keeping the effort level in check.  I spent some time running with Olaf Wasternack, third last year with 140 miles, and Harvey Lewis, the defending champion who had placed ninth in the last world championships (both were a few laps ahead of me). Jim caught up to me and we ran together for an hour; then he lapped me once to catch up on the lap I had gained on him in the early going and we ran together some more; then he took off a bit and lapped me again.  He seemed to be moving very well.

With Jim. photo: Pat Dooley

I kept plugging along and fueling.  I had stuck with zero carbs over the first two hours, just taking water, salt tabs, and some breakfast sausage I had liberated from the hotel buffet, to get my body into fat-burning mode.  Now I focused on carbs, salt, and protein.  Every five laps or so I'd stop at the food tent and eat the following: a handful of pickle slices, a quarter of a PBJ, half a banana, a couple of grapes, and maybe some M&Ms.  Sometimes I'd have some of whatever hot food they were featuring at the time--hamburgers, pizza, grilled cheese.  Then I'd grab a can of Coke and a cup of ice, and walk about 200 meters drinking ice cold Coke.  And then I'd run.  This was my life.

I went through a mild down spell around the 9-hour mark, but not bad; as the sun set and the weather cooled a bit I felt better.  Another mild down spell coincided with the 12-hour mark.  I had lost track of Jim in the dark.  My pace had slowed a little bit, and while I didn't feel too tired, I became aware that there was an awful long way to go.  I passed 12 hours with about 75-76 miles covered, right in line with my goals, but suddenly the enormity of what I was doing hit me.  I sat down at our tent for the first time, eating some mashed potatoes and thinking, God, I don't think I can do another 65 miles.  Steve was struggling with some leg pain and was there with Ginny in the camp, and I outlined for them a new plan.  140 was out, but I could run 12-minute pace for the next, I don't know, whatever.  That would get me to 100 miles in 17 hours, which was slower than my pre-race ideal projection, but I though would still be pretty cool.  Then in the final seven hours, I could cover 30 miles for a 130 total.  Seemed doable.

I struggled a little bit through the next couple of laps, but about thirty minutes later I took a couple of steps just trying to open up my stride, and boom! everything suddenly felt amazing.  My first instinct was to back off, but I decided I had to start running eventually, and I might as well ride this wave for a little bit.  Suddenly, 80 miles in, I started clicking off 9:10s again.  Olivier Leblond, who had led from the gun and was lapping me for the eight or ninth time, caught up to me and immediately commented on how quick I was moving.  We shared several laps together before I stopped to eat something and he pulled away.  It was nearing midnight and the field was thinning out a bit, but I kept rolling.  Past 90 miles I was moving so well that I briefly flirted with the idea of 140 miles again; it was looking like I would be hitting 100 miles close to 16 hours, and 12-minute pace over the last eight hours might be achievable.

About two laps later I started to feel some fatigue in my quads, which was not unexpected.  More concerning was that I was suddenly experiencing burning pain in my right patellar tendon with each step.  This is a bit of a chronic issue for me on longer runs, so I wasn't terribly surprised, but the usual stride alterations didn't relieve it, which was problematic.  At 93 miles I stopped in the medical tent, desperate.  The student there stretched and massaged my quads, which helped, then started putting gentle distal pressure on my kneecap.

"What is that, rolfing?" I asked.

"No, myofascial release."

After a few minutes he pronounced me done and I sat up cautiously.  "I think I felt the knee release," he said, "you might be good to go."  I left the tent and took a few tentative steps.  No pain.  I opened up the stride a little bit.  No pain.  I started running normally.  No pain.  Alright.  Here we go.

Not running quite as quickly as before, but still moving very well.  I did some quick calculations.  140 was definitely out, 130 was still in play.  More importantly, I was fast approaching my first 100 mile mark.  I decided I was going to push through 100 miles to see what my time would be.  Beyond that, with my chances at 140 gone, the final total didn't matter all that much.

I kept cruising through 100 miles in 16:34, still feeling pretty good, and quite proud of myself.  At that point I sat down for only the second time, just wanting to savor the accomplishment for a bit.  I started moving again a few minutes later, but much of my momentum was gone, and I struggled to find my rhythm again.  I made it another two laps feeling OK, but by the third time around I was developing some significant pain in my right IT band and my left quad, and I hobbled back into the medical tent.  They worked their magic again, and my IT band was much better, but the quad was beyond rescue.  OK, then.  Time to start hiking.

So, for the next seven hours, I walked.  I walked and walked.  I began to get a sense of where I stood in the field.  There were five men I knew were ahead of me: Olivier, Adrian Stanciu, Serge Arbona, Kevin Grabowski, and Jean Pommier.  There was Olaf, who I knew had been several laps ahead of me, but I hadn't seen for a few hours, and I suspected might be off the course.  And there were two people who were within ten laps of me still on course.  One of them was barely moving faster than I was, and it soon became apparent that he was almost done.  The other, John Bertram, was still running.

Hours passed.  It became apparent that I was going to either finish sixth or seventh.  If I stopped, John would catch me and I'd finish seventh; a couple of other folks might catch me too if I stopped completely.  If I kept moving, John was the only person who could get me.  No matter how slow I was going, if I just kept moving forward, I'd finish no worse than seventh, probably sixth.  So I just kept moving.  Every time I came around and finished another lap, I considered whether I wanted to finish sixth or seventh, and I just kept moving.  Adrian became my best friend, offering a thumbs-up or a few words of encouragement every time he lapped me; he even stopped once or twice and walked with me for a few minutes.  He was struggling but moving better than anyone else save women's leader Jenny Hoffman, who was simply laying waste to the women's field.

With less than two hours to go I was almost certain I had sixth place locked up, but every time I thought I was safe, John would trundle by, cutting another lap off my lead, and I would do the math again, thinking, God this is gonna be close.  With an hour left the lead was down to three laps, and I considered stopping, but no, he could run 2.7 miles in an hour.  Keep moving.  With thirty minutes to go, two laps.  I could probably stop, but could he do two 15-minute miles?  Probably.  Keep moving.  Finally, at 23:47, I finished my 137th lap, knowing I still had a two lap lead and my spot was safe, and I stopped.

The immediate aftermath of the race was not pretty.  I could barely stand up for the awards ceremony, and I nearly passed out in line at Einstein's Bagels about two hours later.  But Ginny and Steve brought me back to their hotel room, where I had a glorious shower and a two-hour nap, after which I felt remarkably better for the flight home.  Within a day or two, I had no more muscle soreness than I'd expect after any long hard race.  My feet, however, were a different story.  I donated three toenails to the podiatrist on Tuesday, and it took a week for enough swelling to subside that I could see my ankles again.

CANKLES! (The blue toenails are painted.  The red toenails are not toenails.)

Despite that, this was an amazing experience and a satisfying end to my racing year.  It was my third second-place age group finish in a national championship in 2015 (though, of the five people ahead of me, four were actually in older age groups, so that's kind of cheating).  I didn't quite reach the magic 140-mile goal, but I now have a respectable 100-mile PR and a wealth of knowledge to take into my next long event.  Except for some short, fun, local races, I'm done for the year; the next big one will likely be Rocky Raccoon in February, which I'm already a little excited about.  Thanks to Ginny, Bri, Steve, and Jim for all their help last weekend; thanks to Brian Polen and the team at Vertical Runner for a great event.  Much thanks to my sponsors for a successful season: MPF/RNR (and all of the companies that support our team); inov-8, and Orange Mud.  And huge thanks to my family, including my wonderful wife Jodi, who thinks I'm an idiot but tolerates it anyway.

Which Ultrarunner are you?

This is a basically silly idea that I came up with a couple of months ago.  Because between work, training, family, school, and my other silly ultra-related project, I didn't have enough to do.  Anyway, enjoy.  There are almost thirty different outcomes, so you can try it a bunch of times, change your answers, and see how things turn out differently.  If you like it, do me a favor and hit the "Share on Facebook" button afterwards.

Merry Statesmas! My WS100 Picks and a Pre-Squaw GUR Top 50 Update

The most anticipated day of the ultra running season is almost here.  Merry Statesmas, everyone!

Trying to handicap this race is almost impossible.  The field is so deep every year, and the course is such a demanding test; you need to be able to survive the high country, but still have legs after Foresthill to throw down when the real racing starts.  Couple that with the unpredictability of the weather and it makes picking the winner very difficult.  But, everyone is giving it a shot, so I might as well do the same.  My best crack at predicting the men's and women's races:

Ladies
Seven of last year's top 10 women are back this year, and they're found by a murderer's row of talent from the Golden Ticket races and elsewhere.  Fourteen of last year's Gunksrunner Ultra Rankings top 50 are set to run; sixteen of the current 2016 top 50 are entered (including four of the top 5).  I think the women's field is at least as deep as the men, which is not always the case.  The only difference is the relative lack of top women from overseas, but I don't expect that to affect the quality of the race one bit.

1. Magdalena Boulet
Final 2015 GUR: 1
Current 2016 GUR:32
2015 WS finish: 1
Everything else aside, this is Magda's race to lose.  The defending champion and the top marathoner in the field has both the mountain chops and the leg speed to meet any challenge.  Her early season results have shown her to be on form.  Anything can happen over 100 miles, but from where I sit, she's the overwhelming favorite.

2. Aliza Lapierre
Final 2015 GUR: 8
Current 2016 GUR:28
2015 WS finish: 4
She had a monster 2015, with top finishes at Bandera, TGC, States, and UTMF.  She's had a bit of a quieter start to 2016, but a dominant win at Miwok shows she's ready to go.

3. Kaci Lickteig
Final 2015 GUR: 5
Current 2016 GUR:2
2015 WS finish: 2
The Pixie Ninja is clearly in top form following her second-place finish at Lake Sonoma and has placed in the top 5 at WS in both 2014 and 2015.

4. Devon Yanko
Final 2015 GUR: 84
Current 2016 GUR: 22
2015 WS finish: NA
She's more known for her prowess on the roads, but she's been running very well on both roads and trails since her return to the scene at Two Oceans last spring.  States tends to look kindly on speedsters, and she's got one of the fastest marathon PRs in the field.

5. Caroline Boller
Final 2015 GUR: 27
Current 2016 GUR: 17
2015 WS finish: 8
After she crushed me--and the national master's record--at Caumsett in March, I'm looking for her to improve on last year's finish.

6. Alissa St. Laurent
Final 2015 GUR: 43
Current 2016 GUR: 79
2015 WS finish: NA
Flying a bit under the radar, but incredibly consistent across multiple distances.

7. Amy Sproston
Final 2015 GUR: 82
Current 2016 GUR: 31
2015 WS finish: NA
I like the road speed, I like the experience, and I like that she won Black Canyon to race her way in to WS.  I feel like I might actually be selling her short here.

8. Janessa Taylor
Final 2015 GUR: 56
Current 2016 GUR: 36
2015 WS finish: NA
She's won almost everything she's entered the past two years, save a second place only to Cassie Scallon's CR at Bandera.

9. Nicole Kalogeropoulus
Final 2015 GUR: 7
Current 2016 GUR: 18
2015 WS finish: 6
She DNF'd at Rocky Raccoon in February, but has won a couple of smaller races since then, and I'm a bit afraid to bet against her after what she did at UTMB last year.

10. Bethany Patterson
Final 2015 GUR: 18
Current 2016 GUR: 3
2015 WS finish: NA
Another incredibly consistent performer and a very prolific racer.  Most of her success is on more technical tracks, though, and I'm not quite sure of her flat-speed credentials.

Hedging my bets
11. Anna Mae Flynn
12. Amanda Basham
13. Meghan Arbogast
14. Maggie Guterl
15. Amy Rusiecki

Dudes
Unlike the women, none of last year's top four are back in 2016.  If anything, though, the men's race is a little tougher to handicap, because I find the top Europeans to be a bit of a confounding variable.  Partly because I don't follow the Euro circuit nearly as closely as the US events, but also, I'm never sure how their success translates on this side of the pond.  In the nine races of the PJE (Post-Jurek Era), only one foreigner (the great Killian Jornet) has won States, and it even took him two tries to do it.  Last year's European contingent was as strong as any in recent memory, and scored an impressive 4-5-6 finish, but can one of them break through for the win?  Regardless, despite the Euros, and despite the presence of eleven of both the 2015 and 2016 GUR top 50 in the starting field, I feel like this is a three-man race for the win, between Jim Walmsley, Sage Canaday, and David Laney.

1. Sage Canaday
Final 2015 GUR: 45
Current 2016 GUR: 29
2015 WS finish: NA
After an unbelievable 2014, Sage had a bit of a frustrating 2015, as evidenced by his disappointing (for him) 15th at Comrades and his injury-induced DNF at UTMB.  But he still managed a dominant win at Speedgoat and put up four sub-2:21 marathons in a 12-month stretch, and since barely missing the OTQ and recommitting to the trails, he looks to be back to his old self.  I don't want to bet against Jim or Dave, but I'll back my fellow Cornell XC/track alum.  Go Big Red!

2. Jim Walmsley
Final 2015 GUR: 18
Current 2016 GUR: 1
2015 WS finish: NA
This feels a little bit crazy.  No one beats Jim Walmsley these days.  (I mean, like no one.  He hasn't lost in over a year.)  It's his first crack at 100 miles, but States has seen rookies have plenty of success in the past.  (Look at Krar in 2013, or Magda last year.)  Can leg speed and overwhelming talent trump experience?

3. David Laney
Final 2015 GUR: 6
Current 2016 GUR: NA
2015 WS finish: 8
Ranking last year's UROY as the third choice makes me feel sick to my stomach.  Let's just move on.

4. Thomas Lorblanchet
Final 2015 GUR: NA
Current 2016 GUR: NA
2015 WS finish: 5
He's the top returning finisher from last year and may have more of the profile of the Europeans who are successful at States (which is to say, "fast," rather than strictly mountain-goat).

5. Didrik Hermansen
Final 2015 GUR: NA
Current 2016 GUR: NA
2015 WS finish: NA
I know very little about him, but he won TGC this year, so what the hell.

6. Ian Sharman
Final 2015 GUR: 7
Current 2016 GUR: 4
2015 WS finish: 7
Ian will finish sixth because I feel like Ian always finishes sixth.

7. Francois D'haene
Final 2015 GUR: NA
Current 2016 GUR: NA
2015 WS finish: 14
I always think of him as more of a mountain runner, but he's won huge 100-milers all over the world and unless something goes wrong I can't see him outside the top 10.

8. Bob Shebest
Final 2015 GUR: 12
Current 2016 GUR: 142
2015 WS finish: NA
My dark horse pick, I can't understand why this guy doesn't get more attention.

9. Jeff Browning
Final 2015 GUR: 69
Current 2016 GUR: 46
2015 WS finish: NA
I just love his form recently.  Third at UTMF in September and first at HURT in January.

10. Jesse Haynes
Final 2015 GUR: 82
Current 2016 GUR: 13
2015 WS finish: DNF
He's always hanging around the back half of the top 10, and has been running well in early 2016.

Hedging my bets
11. Paul Giblin
12. Andrew Tuckey
13. Christopher Denucci
14. Paul Terranova
15. Andrew Miller

Pre-Western States GUR Top 50 Update (as of 6/18)

	Men	State	Points	Women	State	Points
1	Jim Walmsley	AZ	159	YiOu Wang	CA	104
2	Paul Terranova	TZ	85	Kaci Lickteig	NE	61.9
3	Brian Rusiecki	MA	75.6	Bethany Patterson	VA	56.8
4	Ian Sharman	CA	72.5	Sabrina Little	TX	54.5
5	Christopher Dennucci	CA	67.675	Anna Mae Flynn	CA	54.3
6	Dylan Bowman	CA	61.85	Corinne Malcolm	WA	53.35
7	Matt Flaherty	IN	61.6	Cassie Scallon	CO	50.3
8	Mario Mendoza	OR	59.9	Kathleen Cusick	FL	50
9	Jared Burdick	NY	58.5	Jodee Adams-Moore	WA	40.75
10	Tim Frericks	AZ	55	Ellie Greenwood	Can	40
11	Tyler Sigl	WI	50.5	Keely Henninger	MA	38
12	David Roche	CA	47.5	Alicia Shay	AZ	37.75
13	Jesse Haynes	CA	46.7	Bev Anderson-Abbs	CA	37.7
14	Andrew Miller	OR	45	Sarah Bard	WA	36.8
15	Chris Mocko	CA	41.625	Laura Kline	NY	36
16	Stephen Wassather	CA	41.5	Amy Rusiecki	MA	35.325
17	Jorge Pacheco	CA	40.2	Caroline Boller	CA	35
18	Michael Daigeaun	PA	40	Nicole Kalogeropoulos	TX	35
19	Masazumi Fujioka	CA	39	Emily Peterson	CA	31
20	Ed Ettinghausen	CA	38.4	Erika Lindland	CA	30.8
21	Dominick Layfield	UT	38.2	Rachel Ragona	CA	30.6
22	Ryan Bak	OR	37.5	Devon Yanko	CA	30
23	Chris Vargo	AZ	37.375	Megan Roche	CA	30
24	Zach Miller	CO	35	Julie Koepke	TX	29.275
25	Daniel Metzger	CA	34.5	Denise Bourassa	OR	28.8
26	Mark Hammond	UT	33.8	Heather Hoechst	PA	28.75
27	Paddy O’Leary	CA	33.75	Sarah Schubert	VA	28.6
28	Chikara Omine	CA	33.6	Aliza Lapierre	VT	27.5
29	Sage Canaday	CO	33.5	Traci Falbo	IN	26.6
30	Chase Nowak	MN	30	Kelly Wolf	AZ	26.2
31	Charlie Ware	AZ	28.5	Amy Sproston	OR	25.5
32	Jorge Maravilla	CA	28.5	Magdalena Boulet	CA	25.5
33	Jason Lantz	PA	27.4	Amy Clark	TX	25.25
34	Caleb Denton	TN	27	Pam Simth	OR	25
35	Jared Campbell	UT	25	Camille Herron	OK	24.7
36	Nickademus Hollon	CA	24.4	Janessa Taylor	OR	24.5
37	Karl Meltzer	UT	24.3	Anne-Marie Maddon	Can	24
38	Aaron Saft	NC	24.125	Kaytlyn Gerbin	WA	23.875
39	Steve Barber	TN	24	Katrin Silva	NM	23.25
40	Jeremy Wolf	WA	23.675	Courtney Dauwalter	CO	23
41	Olaf Wasternack	TN	23	Sheryl Wheeler	NY	22.8
42	Patrick Caron	MA	23	Amanda Basham	OR	22.5
43	Nicholas DiPirro	VA	22.5	Brittany Goicoechea	ID	22.5
44	Jean Pommier	CA	22.1	Keila Merino	NY	22.125
45	Mario Martinez	CA	21.6	Liz Bauer	SC	22
46	Jeff Browning	OR	21.5	Bree Lambert	CA	21.6
47	C Fred Joslyn	NY	21.325	Lee Conner	OH	21.6
48	Cody Reed		21	Shawn Chapler	IN	21.55
49	David Goggins	TN	21	Natalie Larson	CA	21.5
50	Brett Hornig	OR	20.65	Darcy Piceu	CO	21.375