The North Face 50M: Surviving the Bear

May 13, 2013 Blood glucose control, Race Report, Team Novo Nordisk, Trail running, Ultramarathon 2 comments
Bear Mountain - start/finish line

Bear Mountain – start/finish line

Saturday May 4 2:30am; my second installment of 50 miles at The North Face Endurance Challenge Bear Mountain, NY was about to begin. (Yes, I ran it last year and made a conscious decision to come back). It was to be my first of two 50-milers in preparation for Western States 100.

My blood glucose was higher than I wanted, just above 200. I juggled the numbers with breakfast and basal rates. By 4:45am, just before lining up, another test, still 200. I changed out my water bottle of pure Gatorade for one of a mix of Gatorade and water, effectively halving the carbohydrates.

50 mile elevation chart!

50 mile elevation chart!

My 2012 time of 9:17 was good but I felt I could go sub-9 if everything fell into place. The race was about 300 deep and not many cared about being right at the front. Purely on my time goal, I opted to toe the line with McDougal and Schmitt (the two favorites). The weather was cool, for now in the upper 40′s but was headed towards a high of 72. I hoped the trees would protect my light skin (I’m no hot weather running fan).

5am: the start of the adventure!

5am: the start of the adventure!

We took off exactly at 5am, across the flat field, under a small bridge and then onto the trail.  The section was a lot of gradual ascending for three or so miles in darkness, our headlamps our only guide looking for the guy in front or glow sticks. There is definitely something really cool about night running or very early morning running as this was. I think it’s the fact knowing that 99% of people in the same time zone are sleeping. I know my choice. I view the 50-mile race, Bear in-particular, as an impatient hike due to the amount of walking involved with constant elevation changes. I’m pretty sure I was the impatient walker growing up, long wooded walks in the English countryside and darting off ahead.

Mile 2

Mile 3

I rolled out of the trail, just shy of 4 miles at the Fort Wayne aid station (doubling as the 40 mile aid too). I chucked my headlamp to a volunteer, shouted my bib number and kept going. I was ahead of schedule (I had sharpie data written all over my forearms for time/aid station as a rough guide).

I was in the top 20 and felt fine there. I placed 19th in 2012 so felt I was right on track. The next section was single track with rocks, roots and more rocks everywhere, basically a lot more technical than the first one. The eyes were in overdrive looking a few feet ahead, occasionally looking ahead to track the route via the runner ahead or the next ribbon marker. Eventually a more runnable section by the side of a misty lake was a great sight. The views you get to witness so early in the morning in mountains are priceless. I flew through aid two without any wasted time.

Descending a tricky single track soon followed. A few guys ran on my heels and I let them go by without a fight. I wasn’t going to force a pace that wasn’t comfortable on this terrain. I tried to let one more pass but he resisted. “No. It’s me Carlo”. Argh! A friendly face. I stayed ahead, we small talked for a while. As we then climbed a long asphalt road, my team-mate Ryan Jones caught up to make us a group of three.

Ryan had not run Bear before and made a few comments about the course so far, mostly swearing. We all laughed. Yep, the Bear sure is grizzly. The truth of the matter was, we were only 10K in and there was way harder stuff coming up for us. I checked my CGM while I wasn’t having to look for the next place to plant my foot and saw my BG had settled nicely at about 150 now.

Back on the trail, the three of us were about to do some of the hardest climbing of the course up to the peak at 15 and then again at 20. Picking when to run and when to walk was key. I mixed it up pretty good but definitely know my weakness on the trails; climbing. I let a lot of guys go here. Either they were stronger or naive. Carlo, was stronger as was the first placed woman. Ryan sat back and ran smart.

The climb took us to one of my favorite parts of the course. The trail looks like it ends with a big rock boulder in front. You look left and right searching for the orange ribbon but this is Bear, that’s not what goes on here. By my feet was a 50-mile arrow pointing straight towards the boulder.

I scrambled up the rock face using hands and feet together to get to the top. The reward is magnificent; flat rock sections to run on with views for miles. This ends sooner than you would like as you pass a small mountain cabin and descend again with hands and feet on the other side.

A standard descent at Bear.

A standard descent at Bear.

The runner below to my right shouted to a bunch of runners on my left “wrong way”. All those  climbers that went past were now behind me because they missed a marker. It’s that simple to get lost, one runner makes a mistake, everyone around follows. I felt lucky to have been where I was at the time and able to not make the mistake.

A steep and treacherously rocky descent followed for over a mile where everyone that had gone slightly astray was now working overdrive to get back in front. (Was it me or did we still have 35 miles to figure this all out?) We climbed a nasty rocky single track to the Arden Valley aid station, first heard (volunteers loves cowbells) and then beautifully into view.

Jumping through the rocks

Jumping through the rocks

A volunteer refueled my bottle. What I mistook for being Gatorade on offer was in fact the event sponsor’s brand; Clif, a similar electrolyte drink. So what? Well, I know that 20oz of Gatorade has 34 grams of carbohydrate (all sugar). What did Clif electrolyte have? Exactly. I had no idea. It was too late, what could I do. I had to assume the same carbohydrate rate. I have nothing against Clif, their chews and energy bars are awesome but I had never tried the drink. I had many gels and energy chews stuffed in my shorts and backpack so if I did need a fast-acting glucose, I had over means readily available.

A guy ahead was putting ear phones in down the road. I didn’t want to deal with passing him with music blaring so got in front before the next trailhead begun. Other than him, the pack had spread thin and I was now solo for a few miles. We ran by a rare open yellow field with the sun beaming down heavily. The trail was mostly pine here sloping heavily to the left which made for some good core work and tree grabbing skills. Occasionally, I would see a runner ahead or two and close in on them. A few big stone sections between marshy streams, remind me of the film, Labyrinth with the dog trying to get to the castle to rescue the girl from David Bowie! I guess my castle was the finish area but I couldn’t think that far ahead quite yet.

I knew from the elevation chart, I had now passed the highest point of the race. That really doesn’t mean as much as you think on Bear though due to the never-ending continuous ascending and descending and rocky terrain to stop you ever getting into a rhythm.

A guy ahead dipped his hat in a stream. I thought it was a bit overkill so early in the morning. As I passed the stream, I copied him and put my hat back on. He was correct! The sun had come up and it was already getting that hot. So hot I guess that I ran down a hill turned right and ran back towards some runners behind me. As embarrassing as it was, I was glad they were there to stop me going further than a few feet the wrong way!

Rocks and water hazards galore.

Rocks and water hazards galore.

By mile 21, I was at another aid station by a big lake. I didn’t have much time to marvel this view but Tiffany probably did. She was there to greet me and do a blood test (she was carrying my spare meter);143. I clenched my fist with joy as the aid station volunteers stared at me. Maybe they thought my lottery ticket had come in.

I refueled the large bladder of water here for the long stretch ahead. I grabbed some cups of Coke and a few orange slices. Tiffany tried to point me in the wrong direction. Now, not only was I trying to run in the wrong direction but my number one crew member was trying her best to do it to me too!

Over a stream via tree branch and then across the road back to the trail. The section involved lots of long straights. A part of the course to get some time back from the earlier climbing. This section is far from boring however. At the southern most part of the course, is where the magic is and only the 50-milers get to see it. Huge open spaces with flat rocks for our feet  and 360 degree views for our eyes and heart. It feels like stepping out onto a new State (Utah always springs to mind, although I’ve never been - yet!). The direction of the trail changed frantically from straight across a flat rock to a hard right or left through a small gap or jump down to a lower rock. Adult’s playground? Absolutely. My only company up here were bemused Japanese hikers who stared at me, not sure what to think! Well the impatient hiker in me could run free here and I did.

Running the rocks: the top of Harriman State park

Running the rocks: the top of Harriman State park

I rolled into Camp Lanowa aid station at 27.7 miles, now in ultra territory. Some high school boys were throwing a football around to entertain themselves cheering me in. I got a small bout of energy from them and called for the ball. This kid didn’t take into account, I had just run over a marathon or that I’m English. Yes, excuses over, I dropped the catch! (Jerry Rice would not be proud of me Team Run NYC!).

Another blood test here; 124. Not only were my numbers great, my CGM was showing me the same readings. I had been monitoring it all morning and seeing a great level of consistency, really, rally satisfying stuff. A few cups of Coke, orange slices (why change a good thing?) and back at it.

Well, “back at it”, sounds very misleading. I had now started hitting my wall. The positive was, the two longest sections were done. I knew my times were off, I wasn’t hitting my aid station goals for sub-9. My Garmin watch wasn’t helping either claiming I had run two more miles than I actually had. This began to mess with my head when I thought I would see an aid station but had to plough another twenty minutes until I actually did.

Obstacle Mountain - yes, this is part of the course!

Obstacle Mountain – yes, this is part of the course!

In between trail sections here, was a long asphalt climb. And I mean, real long! As soon as it went up, I knew I had to walk it. Ryan Jones came up by me. I hadn’t seen him for a while. We exchanged “pleasantries” about how hot it was, how tough the course was, how much our bodies ached. Oh, we also were having great blood glucose control though! Are endocrinologists would be proud of us for that. Ryan is one tough guy. He came into the race after a week of flu and therefore, obviously no running. He also had just won the NJ 100 earlier in March. We ran a section of the climb together. I felt bad to say anything to him but I had to stop and walk again. Ryan was relieved to hear it and for a moment, both of us were hands on knees in the middle of the road just saying “Oh man” in synch. It was kind of comical looking back.

Ryan found 2nd gear afterwards and kept going. I followed but remained in 1st (with the hand brake also up). The trail began again and was a nice change from the asphalt climb, well until we started to tip toe over some more basketball sized rocks all spread out. I had found a couple of new runners now to mingle with and we were all asking the same question; where was this next aid station?! At this point, the brain needs to break down the race into small chunks just to handle the magnitude of the task at hand. Aid stations are mini-goals. It’s like trying to run to the next lamppost when you’ve never run before. By the time you’ve made it, you grow in confidence and can push yourself to look for the next one.

By the time I was back at Fort Wayne aid station, I felt like I was surviving the course, not running for any sort of time. My whole body was really fighting to stay in the event while my fried brain was looking at ways out of it. I saw Ryan again at the aid station, he was about to head out. My blood here was 191. My highest of the race. I ditched most of my Gatorade and replaced it with water to weaken it like I did at the start.

Off I shuffled up the very unattractive car park area for a stretch. I caught up to Mon and Jess from TeamRunNYC. We stopped for a photo. Mon was apologizing for slowing me down. “Do I look like I needed slowing down?!” I said. I was barely alive at this point. Kino, also joined us. He was a second pacer for Jess’s first ultra. That’s one cool trio right there folks. Kino and Mon pacing the whole 50K for a friend. Hats off to all of them.

I went ahead as the trail was flat, winding left and right over a few bridges. But then trouble really came. A climb. It must have been all of six feet high. It looked and felt like agony. OK, now I’m in serious trouble I said to myself. I walked sections I would normally bomb. This was not pretty. The pain my body was letting out was almost too unbearable. A week later, I still can’t find the right words to describe this pain. Jess, Kino and Mon caught back up. Kino kept offering me gels and food snacks believing it would help. He didn’t know my sugar was 191, he instantly thought I just needed sugar. I think he was in shock to see me in so much pain! They continued as I dragged my way along pathetically losing a bunch of time. I questioned when this would be over. I still had Timp Pass coming up (a huge climb and descent). If I walked from here, that would be over two more hours, nowhere near my initial goal time. It was depressing.

I looked at rocks, I was shopping for a nice big smooth rock. If I could just find a good one, I knew I was beyond ready for a nice sit down, maybe even a nap and call it a day.  I had told myself that Keila would catch up soon and when she was here, she would just wake me up! What a great plan. No, that was a terrible plan and completely unlike my nature but I truly did think that. Let’s just say, thank goodness I couldn’t find a rock I liked.

I descended down a super steep section with Jess and co only just ahead. In my hour of absolute agony, it felt comforting to have friends close by. I was still dreading the big climb, I knew it was anytime soon….and then out of nowhere we had made it to the 45th mile aid station. A really fun party atmosphere one in the middle of the woods with lots of people working or 50K’ers having a few moments break from the course.

I was in shock. I had been dreading the climb and it wasn’t where I thought it was. Two 50K runners were eating and drinking and patting each other on the back. “Right, this is it. The final push, 10K to go” one of them said. The light bulb in my low energy head went on. He’s right, the final push. I didn’t even say bye to my friends (who were having a great time by the way), I ran on, got on with it. My watch had hit 9 hours. The dream goal was well gone. This wasn’t to be my day for any PR’s. I knew I knew I had about an hour more of pain.

It was now a good mix of 50K runners and 50 milers. The atmosphere was picking up, you could sense we were all close to the same ultimate goal, finishing. A sharp left and Timp Pass begun. You could see people ahead high up climbing the big rocks to the peak of the curved climb. 3rd place woman now passed by and looked strong. My watch read 9:17 up the climb. I shook my head and couldn’t fathom how I ran that time a year ago.

And down Timp I went. Not overly fast, there was nothing to gain now but still fast enough to impress some of the 50K runners. I guess, when I did my first ultra here two years ago, I recall a runner running down this section and was in disbelief of how they could do it. It must all come down to experience on trails, leading to confidence over time. It truly is, a very different type of running than road running.

As Timp got lower, the rocks got bigger. EMT was trekking up the opposite way to take care of the guy with a gashed knee. Talk about a tough place to try to get too, Timp Pass was most definitely it. The trail finally became runnable and instantly, the last aid station was there with 2.8 miles to go. I have never stopped here and didn’t plan on starting now. A couple of 50 milers were milling around and I took advantage of that. I had no idea of my placing, nor did I overly care. My focus was solely on breaking ten hours and would need some 8/min miles to do it. I flew down the descents, over a bridge and up a climb on the far side giving it everything, I couldn’t afford to walk. But, I had no choice, walking it was. My legs were dead. I sloached moving forward. There was no way I was going to even break 10-hours now I thought.

One...more...mile

One…more…mile

A final mile and a half to go and most of it downhill, I stretched my legs again and let gravity do most of the work for me. I was playing leapfrog with a guy in green (later to find out it was Jason Friedman, a fellow NJ trail series/Leadville runner). A few more teasing ascents just to really dig the knife in and then I saw the bridge which I had gone under hours earlier. My watch read 9:56. I was relieved to know I somehow was going to duck in under ten hours. A long, long way short from my sub-9 goal but small victories are something you take at Bear Mountain, at ultrarunning actually.

Tired!

‘Ooh – comfy grass to lie on!’

This was definitely not my day. I had been looking forward to lying down for hours and chose to do so immediately as I crossed the line. This was anything but a celebration, pure relief and joy I could now finally stop moving forward. It was over.

Lots of my friends surrounded me immediately. Tiffany helped me up, Melissa gave me an ice-cold cup of water and Den Is, all smiles gave me a helping hand too. He told me he won the 50K when I asked. That didn’t surprise me. I later found out his time was 4:13 and had won by over 47 minutes!!! That did surprise me but he is something else.

An ice bath for my feet followed. I’m not used to them, so didn’t last anything close to the prescribed ‘ten minutes’. My quads and calves were completely shot. I wanted to go the medical tent, beer tent and food tent all at the same time. I opted for the DIY medical tent with ice bags on my quads and regrouped with my Team Novo Nordisk team-mates; Ryan, who had just finished ahead and Matt P – who ran the 50K (smart man).

We hung out at the finish line area on the grass bank for a few hours as we eagerly awaited our final team-mate’s arrival. Laura, had just flown in from San Diego the day before and this was her first ultra. No 50K, no flat, easy 50M, straight at it! Matt, Ryan and me were needless to say impressed. And more so, when she finished all smiles. I think we’ve just got ourselves one more ultra runner!

Team Novo Nordisk back in one piece! #changingdiabetes

Team Novo Nordisk back in one piece! #changingdiabetes

So, I left feeling slightly disappointed. I set the bar high (again). I’ve had days to reflect what the race means. Number one: I don’t quit. That’s the best news I can ask for getting ready for Western States. I managed my blood glucose control really well (I started at 200 and finished at 146 with zero problems for 50 miles). I can’t wait to do it all over again at Washington DC in four weeks. Yeah, I think everything will be OK. As Matt said, you can’t always have the perfect day but you can always have fun. That, I did for sure.

The 27th mile – Leatherman’s Loop 10K

April 30, 2013 Blood glucose control, Race Report, Trail running 2 comments
Flag of Hearts; being waved at Leatherman's Loop in honor of Boston

Flag of Hearts; being waved at Leatherman’s Loop in honor of Boston

Sunday morning of April 21st marked the end of a long and painful week for everyone in the running community, everyone who has a heart. Driving through the pine tree-lined road into the Ward Pound Ridge Reservation (an hour north of New York City), me and my friends found ourselves about to participate in an adventurous 10K trail race filled with obstacles—including water crossings, rocks, tree roots and a 45-degree incline known as “the wall”. The Leatherman’s Loop sounded like perfect therapy. We parked in a large meadow and saw a heart flag raised high at the finish area of the course. The countryside was beautiful, it was peaceful here, it was safe. I viewed the 27th annual Leatherman’s as an ironic meaning – the 27th mile of the Boston Marathon. The 27th mile is normally a celebration of achievement, this was more of a somber run to honor those who weren’t so lucky in Boston 6 days prior.

Portrait of the Leatherman

Portrait of the Leatherman

The legend of the Leatherman dates back to 1860; a mysterious figure of the upstate New York and Connecticut area. An outcast man of sorts, he trekked over the countryside by day and sought shelter and food in various towns by night. The route later became known as the Leatherman’s Circuit. He travelled year round in…well…a loop. Farmers were said to have known when he was coming and to have gotten him a meal ready and a bed to rest on. The 10K race is a celebration of him but also a celebration of people, of runners, of the human spirit to keep moving forward arguably. We dropped off our food supply in honor of the Leatherman (at the Leatherman’s foundation; rice and beans were requested). A great food bank initiative that normally collects over 1,000lbs of food each year at the race.

Starting area under the flags

Meadow start; listening to the inspiring announcements, in particular the tribute to Boston

Approximately 1,300 runners lined up underneath, what appeared to be sailors flags with an assortment of colors in the meadow. Roaring speeches were made by Tony Godino, the founder and Danny Martin, who invited runners to dedicate the day to the Boston tragedy.  Lastly, Theo Harris sang Amazing Grace.  The last verse sung by everyone together, just as the Boston tribute T-shirt states “Stand as One”. That we did, and then we ran.

The famous loop!

The famous loop!

Not particularly ready, I reacted to others who began sprinting across the heavy grass towards a teepee. A bell had been rung (quite possibly the quietest bell I’ve ever heard or not as the case maybe). I didn’t know the course but I did know if you wanted to place well, you had to get to the front early. We had about a third of a mile to sort ourselves out before we entered the trailhead. It felt very cross-country like. My pace hit 5:45 as my lungs and quads pierced, still aching from the marathon effort of Monday. My pre-race blood glucose of 160 would need some exterior fuel soon if I kept this up!

Deanna Culbreath, a fellow Brooks IDer ran by my side (she was undertaking her third loop) and gave me a briefing on the course. “The first three miles are the hardest. When you hit the wall, your halfway and it’s easy after that”. “OK, thanks”. I didn’t know what the wall was at the time, but it sounded like I would need some energy to get over it!

Sprinting across the meadow to get a good position before the trailhead.

Sprinting across the meadow to get a good position before the trailhead.

Into the trailhead the masses went, crossing some early teaser mud baths. Some kids ran past me, nudging me accidentally in their own excitement to get ahead, breathing heavily. “Slow down” I told one of them. Nothing. Middle age wisdom is lost on youth I guess! I didn’t know my place,  I assumed top 50 but it was tough to call and tough to know how my body would hold up so soon after the marathon so actually didn’t care as much as usual.

Soon, the trail narrowed to single track. I passed people on my left and right, wherever I could, if I could. I would also get taken over as we were still sorting ourselves out. We followed small pink flag markers as we wound our way up and down steep sections of the woods.

Stream crossing #1

The first  of three stream crossings.

At mile two, we approached our first stream crossing. Not since Leadville had I got the chance to do this. I was behind two others as we jumped into knee-deep ice-cold water. As they walked across, I tried to run. I clambered up on the rocks of the far side ahead of them, only to find I couldn’t get a grip on the wet rocks to exit. I slipped and braced my body for a rush of cold water but then felt two hands under my arms lift me onto dry land. I thanked my competition and ran on. That’s trail running for you. My shoes were heavy from the water and my pace slowed while I dried off. A second stream soon after but no such drama on this occasion. It was deeper than the first one but not chest high as I was told it had been in previous years.

Mud Flats

Mud Flats

We were now running the ‘mud flats’ section. Think walking in ankle-deep mud where you all of a sudden lose a shoe. This was that environment. Some runners tried to avoid the mud but then realized the brambles lining the trail got them instead. I knew my quadruple knots on my Brooks Grits were going to hold up Ok. I went the direct route!

The sound of distant bagpipes was then joined with the view of an open field. I looked up and saw several runners bunched together climbing what must have been ‘the wall’. Relieved that it wasn’t a brick one with ropes and army guys shouting, I ran towards it and then slowed to a grinding halt to walk it steadily. A guy behind me screamed (I’m not sure why) and made it a point to beat me to the top. He obviously didn’t read my JFK 50 write-up referring to Ellie Greenwood’s hill technique. Within a few feet of the top, I ran ahead of a very short of breath fellow runner. He won the wall climb, I’ll give him that.

"The wall"

“The wall”

I reminded myself what Deanna had said. 3 miles to go, easy trail running now. I saw two guys ahead, caught them and made a gap on them quickly. I didn’t want them hanging onto my shoulder. I ran alone, free, single track on a ridge line, it was incredible. I then caught up to a group of five spread out loosely. The lead guy was in red. He was my target by the end. I reeled them in but more gradually than before, these guys were much closer to my pace. The first two were going backwards, they were done, the middle guy pressed forward up a long gradual climb and I happily let him waste energy as I sat behind him to the top of the ascent  and the last two were soon behind me too. I was winding down S-bends on soft pine needles through a section called ‘Deer Hollow” on single track having a blast, feeling great. My place? Who knew, who cared. It never crossed my mind.

Mile 5: gaining ground

Deer Hollow: Miles 4 and 5

A sharp right by a stream meant I knew it was close to the end. Pre-race, I had run over to the final and most famous stream so knew I was about to cross this. Another couple of runners were ahead as we ran by the river bed. My goal shifted again; beat those two. A rapid descent into a field followed.

Brooks chasing Brooks; the final stream crossing

Brooks chasing Brooks; the final stream crossing

I heard the roars of the crowd gathering around the stream crossing. Lots of cheers and groans, maybe someone ahead had fallen into a deep spot? All I cared about was taking one more place. I crossed the stream, divided into three sections of water almost and almost landed on his heals as we grabbed the grass ridges to elevate back onto dry land.

The crowd lined both sides of the bank up to the meadow as to where we had started. It felt like a mini-version of a mountain stage bike race where the crowd gets too close because of pure enjoyment of the event.

Up the bank and onto the meadow finish still chasing one last place.

Up the bank and onto the meadow finish still chasing one last place.

I ran hard, music playing to my right. It sounded fun, I didn’t even see them but heard later they were dressed as the three amigos! The one runner remained, whoever else was ahead had finished. I was almost satisfied to pull up and call it a day but something inside me pushed me. Maybe it was the anger inside me from the Boston bombings? It definitely wasn’t anything negative towards the target runner. Maybe it was just the thrill of how good I felt six days post-marathon? Maybe both. Regardless, I kicked the last 100 yards and didn’t let up to make sure it was no fight.

Rob Cummings, the race director had to almost physically slow me down to say I had finished. He tore off my bib tag to place me and usher me down the roped shoot. I walked under the heart flag thinking of Boston once more. I felt good, I felt happy. That emotion has been very difficult to feel all week.

I ran back to the stream crossing and cheered on my friends. We re-grouped, put on dry clothes and….ran some more! Did you really expect a 10K to be enough?! After some more miles, my blood glucose sat at a perfect 100. Good job too, Tiffany won a pie at the awards for winning her age group in her first trail race! Life is good, thanks for helping the healing Mr. Leatherman. The 27th mile in the books.

Post-race with Joe, Keila, Tiffany (note pie!) and me.

Post-race with Joe, Keila, Tiffany (note pie!) and me.

4.15.13 2:50pm

April 18, 2013 Uncategorized 2 comments

This post has absolutely nothing to do with running or diabetes. I was looking forward to writing a piece on the 2013 Boston Marathon. I probably never will.

boston-marathon-black-ribbon-4.15.13

April 15th 2013 will be a day I and many many others never forget. I ran the  marathon and an hour or so later, felt like I ran another one. Like so many others, I am lucky and grateful to be home in one piece. My thoughts and prayers are with the victims and injured and their families who were enjoying the day cheering on loved ones along Boylston Street.

The bombings on the famous homestretch, killed 3, injured almost 200 hundred and pissed off everyone else. The bombings were completely senseless. They were not done because they hate runners or their families and friends, this could have happened anywhere at anytime. They were done to destroy us both physically and mentally, they were done to crush our souls and our spirit. Wrong crowd.

These people will be caught and will be fully punished. History tells us this. These people are always caught and always punished for their inhumane acts of violence. Here’s the story through my eyes.

2pm; I was waiting on the corner of Boylston and Arlington, a popular meet up spot at the SW corner of Boston Common, waiting for my good friend Gary to meet me. 5 minutes became 20, 20 became 30. I grew impatient waiting. My body ached, I was upset with my run, I was down.  In that time frame, I had decided that even though my race did not go well, I was too overjoyed by the experience of the Boston Marathon. This event is magical, the most historical marathon which you have to qualifier to run in. I wanted to buy the famous official Boston Marathon jacket. 

I started walking towards the finish line, trying to get to Marathon Sports. I got one or two blocks before crowds and fencing made it hard to figure out how I was going to get there. Then Gary called. He was almost at the meeting spot. I paused. I was almost there but now he was ready to meet me. I u-turned and went back to my spot on the corner of the Common. 

I sat down among fellow exhausted runners and waited patiently again. Everything was peaceful until a thud. It sounded like ground breaking demolition, the kind you hear all over New York. Then, a second one.

A woman said “that doesn’t sound good”. “Nope” I replied. Silence. I was convinced it was construction. But that made no sense, this was Patriots Day, no one does that kind of work on Patriot’s Day.

Within minutes, street police were moving the traffic in front of me with more urgency and people on the streets were walking faster, most into the Common away from the finishers baggage area. The atmosphere had shifted. I heard sirens. Then saw fire engines, ambulances, police and undercover cars whiz past trying to get to a location somewhere near the finish area. A fire? A collapsed building? Worse than that? 

Then, someone said it, the word “bomb”. I jumped up, my body sank like never before in my life. My girlfriend. She was pacing a friend to a sub-4 marathon at that time. I just wasn’t sure exactly where she was. With my 1% battery life left, I called her. She picked up super cheery as normal for her. I screamed something along the lines of “get here now” in complete panic. 

Somehow, within minutes, she was with me. Then Gary was too. I explained the noises I had heard and the rumors as more emergency vehicles roared past us. Neither believed. Neither wanted to believe. I didn’t want to believe. Now, I started to feel stupid for saying it. 

My phone now dead left Tiffany and Gary in charge of scrolling the news. Nothing at first, refresh, nothing. Gary called his brother and sunk to his knees. Then all three of us knew, it was true.

We hugged and walked away. We avoided the T trains like the plague. The London bombings (although not there, have left their mark in my brain). We walked away from the finish. 

We passed a restaurant. I froze. For the first time, I saw an image on the TV of the first explosion right beside the finish line. Then, it became real. 

Hours upon hours of calling family and letting friends know we were safe followed. Thankfully, all of our friends were OK but we knew many others were not as lucky.

Some people visibly shaken, others oblivious to the events. The city was on lock-down, the marathon was on no one’s minds. The thought of when the next one and where would go off was frightening. As we now know, that never happened. We met our other relieved and drained friends and figured out how to get home. We all knew this day would be with us forever for all the wrong reasons.

In the following few days, I have struggled emotionally with this heartbreaking tragedy. I have a very small sense of what survivor guilt feels like. That 8-year old boy, Martin should not be gone. He was there to cheer on his Dad and I’m pretty sure one day, he would have run Boston himself. People are waking up with a leg or two. No one should be gone, no one should be injured.

My perspective on running has changed slightly. Running is simply play, it is no more. It is still a way to express ourselves. An art form to some, a science to others. People run for others, for themselves, for charities, for health, for depression, for happiness. This will not change because of this, only add to it. The people behind this attack on our running community did not think about this. Our weapons are our hearts, something clearly lacking from them.

The Boston marathon will rise again, I have no doubt. Boston 2014 will be more emotional than ever. We can choose to hide from the people hiding or stand strong, be Boston strong and make a statement back.  See most of you in Boston 2014. In the mean time, #runforboston #prayforboston.

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More Boston Prep; Febapple FROZEN 20 Miler

March 6, 2013 Blood glucose control, Race Report, Team Novo Nordisk, Trail running No comments
Fifty....Twenty (same difference - hey, this is Boston training!)

Fifty….Twenty (same difference – hey, this is Boston training!)

Ice was the news we heard from Rick McNulty, Race Director and owner of NJ Trail Series. “Add 20-30 minutes onto each loop (10 miles)” he wrote on the Facebook group page. Jeez.

A midweek detour to Paragon Sports saved the day with the swift purchase of some Yaktrax for me and Gary. Gary asked me “Are we going to really come 1 and 2?” To which I responded “We’ve got Yaktrax!”

My Brooks Pure Grit with a new companion

My Brooks Pure Grit with a new companion

After walking the mile from the Maplewood train station in rural New Jersey to the 2,110 acre South Mountain Reservation we were completely spent! Our Achilles were on fire. We were not warned the walk was uphill the whole way. Warm up; done!

Hanging at the start with Jackie Choi (who will be running the Grand Slam this year!)

Hanging at the start with Jackie Choi (who will be running the Grand Slam this year!)

We checked in and watched the fellow, more hardcore runners doing the 50k and 50m who had already started. I was observing everyone. We’re runners wearing Yaktrax or spikes? How many layers were they wearing? Hat, no hat? Gloves no gloves? I could go on but I’ll spare you!

I asked the RD his view on Yaktrax. He thought about it for a while. I was kind of hoping for a confident quick answer. He shouted to a female runner in Yaktrax “Hey, Yaktrax. Good idea?” She replied “YES!” Case closed. On they went and we lined up at the start with 60 or so other 20 milers.

Start of the Febapple - ice!

Start of the Febapple Frozen 20  (strong emphasis on frozen)

The guy next to me crouched down waiting for the “go” as if he was running the 800m! And then he took off like it too. Our group followed and questioned whether he knew it was 20 miles rather than meters. But the really crazy thing to me was, he wore no spikes or tracks, not even trail shoes. He wore Brooks Pure Connects, a shoe I would choose for a road race.

We ran the first mile on road. I told Gary this was the worst trail race I had ever run! And then we turned left.

A steep descent on a single track trail with patches of ice and rocks and roots. This was what is all about. We then climbed out of the valley and started crossing cold streams, tip toeing through technical sections of rock and ice packed ground. Some ascents and descents were covered in a smooth layer of ice. The Yaktrax were a dream on this. I was so grateful we had these.

Someone was on my heals as I followed Gary through the wooded trail. I didn’t like this feeling. Either pass or back off because I refused to go any faster in case of adding a new war wound to my legs. Finally he passed and went quickly ahead just like the 800m runner did at the very start.

Me and Gary observed, took note and then shared ” We’ll see him later”. We climbed a long hill. It got steeper but felt wrong to walk. This wasn’t an ultra after all. But the hill kept going and the incline increasing.

I begun to walk. We could go the same pace as running it but keeping our heart rate a lot lower so at the crest we would be ready to run again. If anyone wanted to run past here, it would be hugely likely that when the course became runnable again we would pass them by with ease.

We ran back to the start finish in even 3rd place, 4 miles in. Now we had the bigger 6 mile loop to get us halfway. We descended a hill, very runnable with much less ice. We got faster and faster really enjoying the chance to stretch out legs and get some time back.

We then realized that there was nobody around us and more alarming, we hadn’t seen an orange arrow in the snow or pink ribbon on a tree for a while. It felt wrong to stop and question it but we had to ascend to find the last marker. We climbed the hill we had just bombed down briskly searching like two golf hackers looking for the little white ball amongst trees and shrubs. Finally I saw a pink ribbon ahead and then we saw a couple of runners turn off down a different path, one we never knew existed.

The key here was not to panic. We had 15 miles to correct our mistake so sprinting now was pointless. We caught them over time. One guy we passed was all “what? how? huh?” towards me. I pointed the finger ahead giving Gary full blame for getting us lost! In truth, it was an equal mistake. We missed what was actually about five pink ribbons and ten orange arrows in the snow telling us to go right!

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After a very icy descent the trail flattened out. It become very runnable for long sections with manageable smaller climbs. We turned right into an open field and passed the other aid station. I had just popped a gel and had no interest in any liquid so stayed on the dirt path towards the next wooded area. We saw a new face look at us wearing all grey. He left the aid station like he had just stolen something! I said to Gary that’s 3rd place ahead. He wasn’t having it. I was convinced. There was no way that was a 50K runner and the 10 milers hadn’t even started yet. We lost one more spot than we thought from our mistake.

Frozen waterfall at mile 8/18

Hemlock Falls; a 25-foot dramatic frozen waterfall at mile 8 and 18.

He never left our site for the next few miles. I could sense he was working hard to stay ahead. We passed an amazing frozen waterfall over a bridge and then climbed again. I caught him and passed by. Then the Yaktrax started to malfunction. I was slipping every left foot strike. I was convinced I had lost a Yaktrax. I looked down preparing to see my biggest fear of the day but it wasn’t that bad. It had hiked up my foot over my toes. I found a rock to perch over and adjust it back. 500 yards later, I felt a slip, looked down, same problem. I stopped a handful of times to fix this but knew I was in trouble. For starters, now it was happening on the right foot too. And secondly, I had 11 miles to go!

Grey guy and Gary both passed. They weren’t too far ahead and I knew Gary wasn’t going to take off anyway. We came through halfway in 4th and 5th in 1:24.

We re-hit the asphalt mile and discussed the game plan. We knew 1st place was gone, 2nd possibly too after all. But we could see third way ahead pushing the pace. Gary had no desire to pull him in, content that this was going to be a great 20 miler training run towards Boston. But I couldn’t resist the urge. Maybe it was the feeling I got from placing 4th last weekend. I didn’t want 4th again, I wanted 3rd. So we split here.

I kept my pace in line with the guy ahead. My Yaktrax were up to their old tricks but I decided at this point to fix them, only if I slipped, I couldn’t afford to stop every few minutes. We hit the steep descent on trail and I caught him almost immediately. I could hear his breathing and see his panic in his movements to stay ahead.

We shared pleasantries as I passed. He wasn’t even going to try to hang on and said “See you at the finish”. Was he serious? We had 8 miles to go here! Regardless if he was genuine or playing a game, I pushed on hard which was the right thing to do but most definitely in the wrong place. I was back in the most technical part of the course with ice, rocks, roots and streams to jump over. At one stream I fell in and almost crashed my legs onto the rocks as I crawled out the other side. And then there was an icy turn with a nice 40 foot drop off into some serious trouble.

14 miles in and I was back to the start/finish area again. I used the angle of a sharp left to glance quickly to see what was going on behind. The guy I had passed was still around. I had 300 yards on him. I knew the next section was fast and knew I needed a bigger gap so decided now was the time to go up a gear. Luckily I also knew to look for about five pink ribbons and ten orange arrows pointing me right!

I was catching the back of the 10 milers and had to wind my way through them respectfully. Running around people was fun. I encouraged them and vise versa. I love that about trail running, something road runners rarely do. I kept the effort high; running where I could and power hiking sections of the steeper hills. I kept some gas in reserve, in case I needed it for an attack from behind.

I ran passed the 15 mile aid station. I didn’t need any gels and had no urge to hydrate (a mistake really. Hot or cold conditions, my muscles would have appreciated some liquid in them). Down a long stretch and I passed a few more 10-milers enjoying the trail in flowing conversation. But this was a stark contrast to what I saw beyond them. A runner in red going pretty hard. I had caught up to second place.

18 miles in

18 miles into the race

I cranked the pace that much more on the downhill and swallowed him up. Thinking he may see me and jump on for a fight until the finish, I ran passed him hard. At the bottom of the stretch we turned a tight left over a narrow bridge. I looked left and saw he wasn’t going to be a factor. As I crossed the bridge, out of nowhere I saw my Team Novo Nordisk team-mate Ryan Jones (also training for Western States 100) coming the over way. We yelled some noise to each other and high-fived (I later found out he was telling me 1st place was only slightly ahead!).

I ran past the frozen waterfall one last time and climbed up the stretch of hill pretty confident I had 2nd in the bag now. After seeing how the leader had sprinted off at the start, I could only imagine he had finished and changed into dry clothes at this point.

I crossed a road which I recalled was approximately one mile of flat easy trail to go. I kept the pace up all the way home to finish in 2:44. A solid 20 mile run which felt like 25-26 on my legs due to the difficult conditions. I immediately bumped into the winner and congratulated him. I was surprised to hear we had the same finish time. I assured him (twice) he was wrong! But it was true. I lost out by 34 seconds but never saw him. I looked at his shoes and quickly reminded myself, he would have lapped me in Yaktrax! I had no feelings of defeat like last week.

Warm clothes! Gary and me post-race

Warm clothes! Gary and me post-race

I waited for Gary who came in only a couple of minutes behind in 4th. He didn’t care about his place, a smart runner that doesn’t get the urge to race just because he has a bib on. My blood tester wouldn’t immediately work post-race because the temperature was too cold! Changing proved a slow and skilled process with cold fingers and standing on a single shoe to avoid the mud. Yes, more core work trying to stay upright after 20 miles of it! Our clothes were absolutely drenched, so it was important to do so.

Ryan finished soon after and won the 50K. A great start to his 2013 campaign. I expect nothing less from him though. I hope we can run sections of Western States together in late June. We packed up and headed off. Another 20 miler locked into the training books (albeit a little different from Central Park). A good day at the running office. I was sure I was going to feel a few aches in my body the next day in places I didn’t knew existed. End note; I was right but it was oh so worth it!

Couple of podium spots for Team Novo Nordisk runners.

WS100 bound; couple of podium spots for Team Novo Nordisk runners

 

Boston Prep; Martha’s Vineyard 20 Miler

February 20, 2013 Blood glucose control, Race Report, Team Novo Nordisk, Training 4 comments

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What weeks ago seemed impossible, was now on the table. A return to the Summer retreat island of Martha’s Vineyard for a great Boston tune-up race of 20 miles.

My Jack Daniel’s training plan called for 15 miles at marathon pace (6:15) with some easy miles thrown in either side. I adapted this plan for the race and decided I would start out easy and then knuckle down to marathon pace. Well, that was the pre-plan at least.

The weather was not ideal but hey, this was Massachusetts in February; mid-20′s with a north wind and a forecast of rain and snow. I was careful how much insulin to take with my breakfast. My aim was to be anywhere around 180 pre-race.

MVferry

Mainland to the start line via a 45-minute ferry ride

I spent much of the ferry ride monitoring my blood glucose rather than the view outside. We arrived on the island to a pleasant view of light sky with only a few clouds, no rain or snow in sight. Was the forecast wrong? The optimist in me said yes! I chose shorts, long sleeves, no hat or gloves. After all, I was going to go pretty hard at this. If I was cold, I could always go faster!

RD getting us ready to go

The race director getting us ready to go at the laid back time of 11am. #islandliving

I did a final pre-race blood test; 198. This was a great reading for me. I was happy to be starting at this point. I stuffed my shorts pockets with 4 energy gels, the plan of taking one at 5, 10 and 15 miles (a spare as back-up as I knew Gatorade was scarce on the course from last year when I had to snag one of Rui’s gels to keep me going). 400 or so of us ‘toed the line’ outside the ferry terminal in the north town of Vineyard Haven. Lots dressed in Boston marathon attire making the statement that this run was part of the bigger picture for 8 weeks time.

mv20mapI was itching to go. I had missed this although it had only been a couple of months since my last race in California. I knew the smart race plan was to run my own race but I quickly found a small group of runners to run with at the front. There were two leaders way ahead, and then us. We crossed a bridge into the township of Oak Bluffs and got read the 1 mile split by a volunteer. It felt like I was back in school getting yelled my splits round the track by my coach. “6:34″. OK, that wasn’t easy pace. Pre-plan ruined! We maintained this for the next two miles. I could taste the opportunity for a high placing and I didn’t want to slip back and run solo. I knew by mile 5 I was going to press anyway so I stayed in the group working as one.

I shielded myself from the wind with two runners ahead of me. We headed south along the Nantucket Sound with the wind now behind us. The pace definitely picked up. I fell off the back and considered letting them go. The only problem, I was now running in no mans land with no defense from the wind. I made a bold but ultimately correct decision to surge and jump back on the group. It didn’t feel good but as soon as I closed the divide, the pace felt OK again. The mile split was however 6:04. We now had some guys pushing the pace. Time for a gel, earlier than planned.

We sped south for a long section of miles with the wind behind us. The pace calmed slightly to my M pace of 6:15 so at least I was finally back on track with my pre-race plan! We had some heavy breathing going on. The good news, not mine. This was now quickly becoming a very obvious race for third place. The front two were half a mile ahead. Our pack of seven pushed trying to eliminate the weak ones. It reminded me of reading Tyler Hamilton’s book ‘The Secret Race’ describe training rides with Lance Armstrong. Lance would push, Tyler would respond as if to say “still here”. I was one of the runners saying “still here” over and over again.

The chasing pack of 7 heading south

The chasing pack of 7 heading south (hidden behind #288)

At mile 9 we had stretched the pack thin. I was now in a group of four working even harder and now catching the lone runner ahead in 2nd. My mind raced way ahead, thinking not only a top 3 spot was possible but second place was also up for grabs.

We ran the bike lane route but occasionally had to jump on the road to avoid sections of snow that weren’t cleared in time for the race (the after effects of the Nemo storm). At ten miles I clocked 1:02 and change. Fast, really fast but I couldn’t back off now. I turned the corner to head west and for the first time, found myself with a gap on the other three.

I decided to go and I went hard to make them work extra hard to catch me. I was clear in third place with the 2nd place guy ahead still fading. It didn’t last. It was an aggressive move with almost half the race to go. I had two guys back on my heels in no time and quickly slowed so I wasn’t the lead man. Then, from almost nowhere came the change in conditions. Rain and snow fell and fell fast. I hoped I was the only person who enjoyed bad conditions.

It appeared not. The other guys seemed unconcerned with the conditions. We worked in unison to finally reign in number two whose biomechanics were getting worse and worse.

We caught him at 13. To my shock though, he wouldn’t let us go. He stuck their breathing hard and working harder to not let us go. I was a mixture of impressed and frustrated by him! Damn. Seriously, let us go! Now I was playing the role of Lance and this guy was Tyler hanging onto my wheel. He was tough.

We ran rolling hills as a four. 2nd place through 5th. Still clipping off 6:05′s and giving it everything. I had no idea how I was going to maintain this for seven final miles but I was also confident everyone else felt the same way; red lining it home. We were effectively fighting for two podium spots from four. My plan was simple. If one person makes the move, I go too. I could not afford to give a lead to anyone now. This happened a couple of times and I stomped out the move immediately.

We turned a corner at 14. No sign of first place, he had the race to lose now, not for us to win. (We actually heard from a volunteer he was 4:05 ahead). The heavy breather was no longer in my ear. I never looked round to see where he was. I just knew he had finally given up the “still here” game.

Then a guy in red made his move. It was big. I tried to go but he went with conviction. A well planned 10K to go move and just like that he had 100 yards on me. During my desperate fight to keep him close I had unintentionally become the solo third place runner. Great, except I was dying. My pace was good but my body was really questioning why I was putting it through this pain again now.

I closed my eyes several times from here on in. 1) it feels good when you’re dying. 2) no one could see my pain now. The gap ahead of me was now double. The aid station ahead was going nuts for us. I had three miles to hang onto third. A goal I knew I would be satisfied with. I had accepted that 2nd place was too strong for me. This was hell but if I could hang on, it would be heaven in 18 minutes. A car passed honking. And then…honk again.

I denied it. A second car rolled past. Honk (for me) and then honk (not for me). Who was right behind me? Was it the guy who was in second for so long with failing biomechanics or the guy I had run with side by side for ten miles? It didn’t matter and I didn’t turn to show my card of fear to find out. All I could do was work. I thought of my uncle (a year to the day he passed a way from cancer), my Dad, undergoing cancer treatment at present, my Team Novo Nordisk teammates. I didn’t want to let anyone down. I always do this when I’m in the severe pain part of the race. The pain of failure, far worse than some temporary pain.

One last sharp turn left to begin the last two miles. My Brooks ID friend Michael Robertson’s wife had mentioned the hills at mile 18 before the race in conversation. I actually had no recollection of then from the previous year.

But here they were. The first, a gradual climb over half a mile. Still in third. I tapped my Garmin at the mile marker expecting to see something horribly slow; 5:56. It felt sluggish but I was doing everything right to keep third place.

Then came the second climb with a few descents in there too. One mile to go. But now I heard footsteps. And just like that he rolled passed with ease. I acknowledged his effort with a “good job” and he replied “we’ll see” but it honestly sounded modest at best to me. It was in fact a runner I had not seen since about mile 6 and he took off.

My pace deteriorated. I was mentally broken at this moment. All I could think of was Steve Prefontaine’s quote “The worst place you can finish!” referring to his infamous 4th place finish at the 1972 Olympics 5000m final.

I didn’t know if others were gaining. It certainly felt like it at that moment in time. I could actually see third and second ahead of me in the final mile but had nothing in the tank to do anything about it. I imagined this scenario that third would catch second and deflate his bubble too. I used this ridiculous theory to push myself on. If I could stay in range, who was to say I couldn’t steal back third at the bitter end?

But nothing changed. Stalemate. I crossed the road and headed diagonally down the home stretch, for the first time daring to glance back to see who was behind. No one. And for the first time in two hours, my whole body relaxed.

I ran into the finish strong. 2:04 and change. 30 seconds behind third. I slumped over, hands on knees and stayed there for a while. I mumbled some disappointment to Tiffany. She got it. Didn’t have to say anything. She knew I was not thrilled to miss third.

First metal of 2013

First metal of 2013

At this point, I then realized how soaked my shirt was and my hands were frozen from the conditions. I staggered into the school gym to get warm and congratulate the other runners. It was after all, a great race. I’m proud to be able to compete with the front guys in races these days, rather than just chase the clock. However, I know my place in Boston. Way back there, chasing the clock!

When my hands got some blood back in them, I did a test; 171. Higher than I would have liked but better to be a bit higher than lower in the situation. I ended up popping gels at 4, 8, 12 and 16 due to the higher pace but in hindsight, I was good with gels after mile 12.

The preliminary results showed my pace at 6:14. Putting the 4th place blues soon behind me, I was happy to see this and realize what I had achieved. Weeks ago, I was hobbling around London with ITB pain and now I’m back,  on the cusp of something great in the Boston Marathon on April 15th.

Finisher medal and AG medal

Finisher medal and AG medal

January Jogging (The path back from injury)

February 1, 2013 Training No comments
Stonehenge trail run. Historical plaques were a good excuse to stop and stretch

Stonehenge trail run. Historical plaques were a good excuse to stop and stretch

January has been a slow month, quite literally. The first week began with a few stiff miles. I hate the word jogging but I probably was…jogging. Some ITB pain I first felt in my right knee back in mid-December was just not going away. Luckily I had some nice places to run to kick off the New Year; Big Ben, Stonehenge and my old stomping ground of the North Downs in Surrey. But all in all I wasn’t happy. My mileage was down (about 15 miles total up to January 12th), my ITB hurt and quality Boston training weeks were now being missed.

Just like being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes; I had a choice to make. I could keep sulking about it or get healthy. My Trigger Point Performance Therapy foam roller and The Stick became my best friends!

Trigger Point foam roller - ITB's nemesis!

Trigger Point foam roller – ITB’s nemesis!

A combination of self-therapy, rest days and very very slow running of very short distances were  the turning point. Rest is such an important component of training. Clearly, I didn’t respect it post California International Marathon and my first attempt of starting Boston training. I only took a 10 day break (running with Scott Jurek on day 5 of my break doesn’t count because it’s Scott Jurek; true story!).

When Saturday January 19th rolled around, I should have been doing what 99% of other Boston runners were doing; running long. But I wasn’t ready. I played it smart (you decide) and took the weight off my feet. I dusted off the cob webs from a bike disguised as a clothes dryer and cycled up to Nyack from NYC and back with Rui and Mike which totaled about 60 miles. Zero knee pain, great endurance workout (even I did suck climbing hills). Perfect.

The highlight of 60 miles on the bike? Stopping for coffee and muffins at Nyack.

The highlight of 60 miles on the bike? Stopping for coffee and muffins at Nyack.

On Sunday, my goal was to attempt my first double digits run (10 miles). But then you bump into Chris Solarz on the bridle path of Central Park and your plan goes out the window. The plan goes even better. We caught up on life and knocked out 12 miles without even thinking about it. Goal, most definitely accomplished (plus 2 miles).

From there on, it’s been steady running all the way. Nothing fancy. 55 miles for the week. And although I was not doing any speed work or hitting high mileage, my knee pain faded and my confidence soared.

On Tuesday, I met up with my Boston training partner, Gary Berard to tackle our first speed workout for Boston (yes, 11 weeks out and we were going for our first speed workout!) Luckily we both have miles in our legs from 2012 and should still be able to achieve decent results come April 15th. We ran our workout that included 7x 1 mile repeats at a good pace. We followed the workout and executed it perfectly. I logged the workout into my new companion; Training Peaks and analysed it. Heart rate too high for pace but now I’m just getting picky. I am grateful just to be running right now!

Data data data.

My new tool; data data data.

On now to February. It’s a complete understatement to say I’m excited. More miles, more speed and I’ve even added some more races to my calendar. A couple of 20-milers; Martha’s Vineyard and NJ Trail Series Frozen Febapple on the trails. I’m happy that I’m talking numbers again regarding running rather than letters (such as ITB) explaining why I’m not.

2013 Race Calendar; The Plan of Attack!

January 14, 2013 Marathon, Team Novo Nordisk, Trail running, Training, Ultramarathon 4 comments

I have spent a few more weeks than I had planned in my off-season; my right ITB told me to roll more, rest more. It’s given me time to reflect on an amazing 2012, appreciate being 100% healthy and like most runners in December-January; plan for an even more amazing 2013.

The A race (of all A races!)

My “A” race stands out like a sore thumb, in a very very good way; Western States 100. As a first time entrant to the lottery system to the oldest and most prestigious 100 miler in the world, the chances of actually getting a place were between slim and none. I somehow got in. What is it with me and raffles in 2012? I don’t know but I need to be buying Mega Millions too. I’ll be rubbing shoulders with the best in the sport; Tim Olson, Ryan Sandes, Ellie Greenwood to name only a few. I will be fortunate enough to share this awesome experience with my Team Novo Nordisk teammate; Ryan Jones (a fellow LT100 finisher in 2012).

Did someone say running in Colorado?! I’ll go!

My second major race falls into a new distance. The 100K race is something yet to be tackled on my resume. I’ve seemed to found a fairly successful race distance between 50K and 50M; the “W” from The North Face in DC and my 16th place at JFK (both 2012) are my highlights to date. I was unable to enter the Ultra Race of Champions (UROC) event last year due to the date being a week apart from the Chicago Marathon. This year, no such marathon dilemma, it is fully on my radar. It will be my “A2″ race if you will. The event, in it’s third year now, attracts the best athletes going after the biggest prize money in ultra running (not that I think I will get anywhere near the pot of gold!) It has moved from Virginia to Colorado for 2013. I don’t think I can resist the challenge of some thin mountain air on a great point to point course beginning in Breckenridge and finishing in Vail.

Looking to PR big time @ the oldest one of them all; Boston Marathon

But, back to the start. I”ll kick things off with some winter training with a great and smart training partner; Gary Berard, and give Boston a good effort. It’s time to shave off some time from my PR of 2:45. Then, it will be full on trail season with a return to Bear Mountain for 50 miles and DC for the same distance (key fitness tests for Western States). I’m dabbling with Pocono Marathon in mid-May purely from a downhill elevation perspective (specificity training). Remaining races will no doubt happen on a whim to add the year. I haven’t figured out a half-marathon yet towards Boston for starters and I’m keen to tackle a Half-Ironman maybe towards the end of the year. I am really excited and ready to race alongside my team mates at Team Novo Nordisk and make this year the best one yet.

Here’s the calendar to date (bold=registered);

February 16th: Martha’s Vineyard 20-Miler, MA (tbd)

April 15th: Boston Marathon, MA

May 4th: TheNorthFace Endurance Challenge 50M, Bear Mountain, NY

May 19th: Pocono Marathon, PA (tbd)

June 1st: TheNorthFace Endurance Challenge 50M, Washington DC 

June 29th: Western States 100, Squaw Valley-Auburn, CA

July 20th: 20in24 Relay, Philadelphia, PA

September 28th: UROC 100K, Vail CO (tbd)

California International Swimathon

December 24, 2012 Blood glucose control, Hypoglycemia, Marathon, Race Report, Team Type 1 No comments
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My first time back to California in 25 years was a very different one. I was returning as a diabetic (no Disney candy for me) and as a runner. The most obvious part of this trip that stood out though was the weather. I think I must have cast my British ‘take the weather with you’ luck. We were in store for a real treat; thunderstorms all weekend with up to 30mph winds!

This was my inaugural race with Team Type 1 (now Team Novo Nordisk). A good chance to meet some of the guys before the end of the year. Eight of us from across the country were meeting up to race (at what is declared the fastest marathon in the west; California International Marathon (CIM) held in the state capital of Sacramento).

With the weather so bad, we were lucky (?!) the race was actually still going ahead. After witnessing first hand the on/off nature of the New York City Marathon with Hurricane Sandy a few weeks prior, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the race organizers scrapped this one too. But the show went on. We were going to get blown around and soaked for three hours and part of me was really excited by these insane conditions. I packed my usual race gear with a few extras. My tub of Aquaphor, lots of socks, band-aids and a baseball cap. This was my defense against the storm!

Purple = BAD!

Purple = BAD!

Half of our team were doing the relay; Casey, Matt, Nathan and Ben and seemed genuinely worried one of the marathoners might beat them! That was Benny. It was his first marathon yet everyone knew he was lightning fast. That left Chris, myself and Rhet (another first time marathon guy with a time goal way out of my league) to the marathon distance.

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We woke up Sunday to the expected forecast. I looked out of the hotel window to witness palm trees swaying around in heavy rain. This was to be a swimathon, not a marathon. I was rooming with Rhet who remained focused and ready to see what he could do. No one seemed to adjust their goal plan of giving it everything.

CIM course map

The race course ran point to point from Folsom to Sacramento. A similar layout to Boston minus the four hills. I squeezed my way near the front of the start line in a packed area and somehow found Benny. It was almost pitch black, winds whirling around us and the rain coming down hard already causing many large puddles and flooded areas of road. This was anything but California sunshine.

We took off south. A lot of people were ahead or really gunning it to get there. This was because the race is popular with many elites for its fast design and also the relay teams starting at the same time. Soon we turned west for a long fivemile stretch. Winds pushed us to the right and everyone was doing their best to run straight and shield themselves with another body. Wearing a baseball cap helped keep the rain off my face but could do nothing about this intense wind.

My goal going in to the race changed a few times from a controlled sub-3 to wanting to PR. My mindset was slightly aggressive considering I was two weeks post my all out effort at JFK 50 miler but I went with my confident brain rather than my tired body and set the goal at 2:44. The first few miles were clipping off easily at 6:10 and I felt great. When do you not feel great in the first few miles right?

This pace soon changed though when we turned south for the next five miles. The south winds up to 30mph were now directly at us and I found myself sitting on two guys. One was upset that I was doing so but it would have been suicide to take the lead role. I looked around and saw another ten runners behind me! My guilt of drafting disappeared instantly! Anyone running in front or solo on this stretch was wasting some serious energy. Our pace was, well irrelevant, due to this situation but about 6:45 average.

Finally a right turn to get out if the wind and another west stretch. The lead guy from before had finally eased up and calmed down that no one was taking the bait for lead role. I nudged him and said, now you’re running smart. He agreed and no longer hated me! His buddy struck up a conversation mentioning he ran Leadville. We talked about Leadville for the next mile together realizing we probably ran past each other a few times as our finish times were within 30 minutes. Small world this running business!

I hit the halfway point at 1:22; 30 seconds ahead of my goal time at 1:22. Being the optimist, I said to myself; ‘All you have to do is run the same speed again and you will PR’. Did I mention I was running in heavy rain and 30 mph winds?!

Sunny California!

Sunny California!; This photo went viral on social media because no one believed it was that bad. Yes, it was!

We were now on a second long stretch of running directly into the ‘in your face wind’! There were so many puddles and flooded areas! we were running straight through them. Our feet had quickly adjusted to the fact they would be soaked the entire race and I was praying my layer of Aquaphor and two pairs of socks would shield me from blisters. At mile 16, I calculated I just had to maintain 6:15′s and I was on for a huge PR. I think the rain got in my head because I’m since sure my calculations were off.

As soon as I started to dream, my legs started to scream. I was hitting the famous marathon wall but four miles early! I was still grinding along and I tagged up with a guy about 6′-3″ and 200lbs; a perfect partner. Just like in cycling, we shared the lead rotating every 400 meters or so and kept at this for two miles until our paces differed and split again. It was that sort of race where you grabbed help where you could. This was no PR day for 99% of the 15,000 runners and I wasn’t getting too upset that my pace was dropping and I was part of the larger statistic.

The final 6.2 miles headed west into Sacramento. Hoping these miles would be better due to less wind, I was badly mistaken. My pace had shuddered way down to 7:45. This wasn’t a tire legs situation anymore, this was a hypo. I popped two gels and regretted not sticking with my routine of a gel every seven miles or so. If I had taken one at mile 20, this wouldn’t have happened. I wanted a really good post-run glucose reading and thought I would be ok just gulping on Powerade at the water stations. Even with my experience, I still get it badly wrong. I remembered talking to Matt on the flight over from NYC about shutting it down if it wast going my way. Even, in this situation, I couldn’t. I couldn’t let go. I wanted to perform at my maximum on that day.

With a mile to go I approached a long line of tall palm trees and knew that was near the end (from my minimal course research). As I saw the trees, I realized the rain had stopped. It was still cloudy but seriously, hallelujah!

My pace had picked up again with the gels doing their magic. I had been stupid not to take a gel back at mile 20 and had gone hypo and paid the price. I saw my team mate, Rhet ahead with less than a mile to go. He was meant to be done by now. I pulled up alongside him and without hesitation made sure he stayed on my shoulder. This was not my day and I wasn’t going to ditch a teammate. I wanted to see him finish strong. We swung around the last two turns at the State Capitol and finished together in 2:53.

Casey, Benny and Nathan were waiting for us right at the finish line. Benny threw down an impressive 2:43 first time marathon in those horrible conditions beating the relay team who had to settle for a 2:45. Yeah, Benny’s that good!

I went to the drop-bag tent to collect my stuff and dug out my blood tester. I was 91. I don’t want to know how low I was at mile 20! It wouldn’t have changed the outcome enough to still PR. We hobbled to the car and shared our stories. Of course, at his point the sun was breaking through the clouds. No time to enjoy California sunshine. I had a plane to catch back home!

What a blast with the team even though it was a quick trip in not so sunny California. The good news writing this is, at least I know I will be back next Summer for Western States 100. Then I’ll be crying about too much sun!

One more bling to an incredible 2012!

One more to an incredible 2012!

 

Changing Diabetes with Team Novo Nordisk

December 4, 2012 Media, Team Novo Nordisk No comments

December 4th 2012 marked an exciting day for the world of diabetes and my new team, Team Novo Nordisk (formally Team Type 1).

Team Novo Nordisk

Novo Nordisk today announced a unique partnership to form Team Novo Nordisk, a global sports team with more than 100 cyclists, triathletes and runners who all have diabetes, spearheaded by the world’s first all-diabetes pro-cycling team.

Team Novo Nordisk will use life experiences and competitiveness to motivate people affected by diabetes. Throughout 2013, these athletes will compete in more than 500 sporting competitions around the world. The men’s pro-cycling team will compete in races such as the USA Pro Cycling Challenge, the Tour of Britain and the Paris-Tours, with the ultimate goal of joining the Tour de France.

December 4th 2012 – Novo Nordisk Press Conference in Denmark; Jakob Riis and Phil Southerland

“As part of our long-standing Changing Diabetes program, this partnership provides a tremendous opportunity to raise awareness, and educate, empower and inspire people with diabetes,” says Jakob Riis, senior vice president, Global Marketing and Global Medical Affairs, Novo Nordisk. “This is yet another way Novo Nordisk is striving to create more opportunities to live well with diabetes.”

Phil Southerland founded what was known as “Team Type 1″ in 2005 and included riders and athletes with and without diabetes until this year. The new Team Novo Nordisk will only comprise of athletes who have diabetes and will continue to grow the team mission “to instill hope and inspiration for people around the world affected by diabetes.”

“As Team Novo Nordisk we want to show the world what is possible with great diabetes control. Between us, Team Novo Nordisk has over 1,000 diagnosed years of diabetes with no complications and we stand for what life with diabetes can be like,” Southerland says. “Exercise is that billion dollar drug that nobody ever gets prescribed, and in my experience is the best of them all. With appropriate diet, exercise, treatment and technology, anyone with diabetes can achieve their dreams.”

SO proud to be one of the hundred team athletes!

Like us at www.facebook.com/TeamNovoNordisk

Follow us at @TeamNovoNordisk

Website will be live on January 1 2013 www.teamnovonordisk.com

About Diabetes

Today, 371 million people are living with diabetes.[1] Changing Diabetes® is Novo Nordisk’s global commitment to improve conditions for the millions of people who live with diabetes around the world today, and those who are at risk of developing diabetes tomorrow. It is a global advocacy and partner platform which advocates for the prevention and early detection of diabetes, as well as improved treatment, care and health outcomes.

Headquartered in Denmark, Novo Nordisk is a global healthcare company with 89 years of innovation and leadership in diabetes care. The company also has leading positions within hemophilia care, growth hormone therapy and hormone replacement therapy. For more information, visit  novonordisk-us.com.

Turkey Trotting in Indiana

November 30, 2012 Race Report No comments

When in Indiana, run the Drumstick Dash right? You who laugh are wrong! This is one of the biggest turkey trots on Thanksgiving morning in the country with over 15,000 runners! The best part about the event is that the entry fee goes to a really great cause, the Wheeler Mission.

Since 1895 Wheeler has been helping the community’s homeless and less fortunate. Each year the organization serves almost 300,000 wholesome meals and provides 120,000 warm overnight stays for homeless men, women, and children. The Drumstick Dash, held in Indianapolis benefits the Wheeler Mission so they continue to serve those in need. This was the 10th year of the race.

Level 1 Turkey: Ready to race…I think.

The “dash” is a run/family walk is a 4.6 mile course with a shorter 2.5 mile course option. Because of the vast numbers participating, upon entry I was asked to submit my pace. Did they want my best pace or my four days removed from JFK50 pace?! I opted for the aggressive option and went 5:30 and got a nice low number with a sticker on bib 43 claiming I was a fast turkey!

First male to catch the turkey (note the Brooks Flow’s on the turkey = respect!)

More exciting than the race was the opportunity to catch the turkey! A full costumed turkey gets a head start and a handful of runners attempt to tackle him to win a prize (I never found out what you win. Pride I guess.)

My blood glucose was at 300 before breakfast. Way off track. Luckily, I managed to bring it down to a perfect 171 pre-race within two hours. I lined up a couple of rows back from the very front and seriously debated going after the turkey. I realized how many young fast guys were ready and looking more keen than me so I opted to run the race properly instead. Boo. I know! The race begun at 9am in Broad Ripple, IN and took us on a large loop of residential streets. After half a mile, I saw the turkey . No, I wasn’t the first one. To my right sat a dozen or so extremely exhausted runners on the curbside. Good decision not to try to catch the turkey. I didn’t want to be sitting on the curb!

Mile 1 was a straight shoot east with loads of runners ahead of me. 5:40 pace on the watch, I felt terrible! At least I only had 3.6 to go though! I’ve got used to thinking of only a few miles to go in 50 milers and my 100 in Leadville so this was a treat (apart from the pace difference).

A ninety degree turn right and we were going south. The pack thinned out and I settled down slightly in a thinner line of runners. Some really heavy breathing going was gong on, luckily not mine. Just before we went under the old Monon railway bridge, we hit mile 2; 5:50. So, 5:30 pace was ambitious. I quickly settled for a new goal of sustaining a 5:45 average.

Mile 3 consisted of a handful of sharp turns with even sharper elbows. A nice reminder why I don’t run this short stuff too much. I didn’t appreciate getting cut off at a turn with over two miles of a race to go so when the next corner came, I had no problem returning the favor! Where were all the friendly ultra runners that like chatting?!

I was now close to a nice pack of ten ahead, two wearing turkey hats. New goal: don’t get beat by two guys wearing turkey hats. Got it. I kept the group within sight.  Just prior to the mile 4 marker (it looked like a U for 400 yards), I ran past the turkey heads.

One final turn left and I was back at Broad Ripple main street going east to the finish. I kicked hard having no real gauge of how far 0.6  miles was. I went past a few runners losing their form on the home straight. I saw an ambulance up ahead and took that as the finish area. Sure hoped so. Cheers from the crowd got louder and I kicked even harder to try to duck in under 27 minutes. The MC questioned my sanity for the sprint (there was no one ahead close enough to catch) and I crossed the line. Hands went immediately to my knees as I gasped for air. Soon, several runners came flooding in behind me and walked clear of the finish area. I stayed there for an eternity recovering. It just seems to be how I like to race. Run as hard as you can and give it everything, nothing left. Yep, even for a turkey trot!

It was a really satisfying race. My average pace was 5:44 and got me a top 50 finish. Not too bad a few days removed from 50 miles! It gave me a lot of confidence looking ahead to my final race: California International Marathon (CIM) in Sacramento next week. It may just go way better than I had originally planned. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this good or recovered so well from running in my life. I am thankful for that and don’t take any of this for granted.

Tiffany soon followed me over the line and hit her time goal. We were both happy (and pretty tired). We ran the course one more time, at a much more comfortable pace and made it a 10 mile run day. Did you really expect me to stop at 4.6 miles? Turkey also tastes better after a good hard run. This year was no exception!

Running a second loop: Why not?

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