The 2015 LA Marathon Race Report

I’d like to start this blog off by saying it is really very hard to run a fast road marathon. I even know what calculus is, and running fast is way harder. People have been asking me how does it compare to an ultra, and it’s just as hard- maybe even harder. It hurts as bad as a 50-miler if you do it right and it hurts just as bad if you do it wrong, so you’re kind of fucked either way.

Here is a list I made about running a road marathon and how it compares to my previous experience of mostly running trail ultras…

First, you have to keep up as even a pace as you can, and the terrain doesn’t really change- you get concrete OR asphalt. I stop and walk hills in the later stages of an ultra race. I’ll even sit on a rock and take my shoes off at mile 36 to get all the little pebbles and junk out of them because wearing gaiters looks ridiculous, and sitting down for like 30 seconds when you’ve been running for 7 hours is like sex. I can run sub-6:00 pace downhill on really rutted trails, then hit the flats and settle into a really sad looking 9-minute per mile pace. But roads are different. My goal pace for this race was 6:52/mile (which works out to a 2:59:59). I knew I couldn’t sustain that for the entire 26.2- there’d definitely be some slowing come mile 20, then I’d just try to hold on for dear life and get in under 3:09:59 for the BQ. More like a 3:07 with the new standards, but I figured I might lose up to a good minute per mile that last 10k. So when I say I wanted to try to run that pace, I didn’t honestly think I could hammer 6:52’s the whole day- I was hoping to do that through the 13.1 mark, then allow things to get “interesting”. I ended up running the first 5k split of 22:13 (7:09 pace), a full minute and a half off my intended pace- I knew at this point I was going to be in for a very rough day, like that time I took acid and tried to good food shopping.


I literally have no reason to be smiling here.

Second, I didn’t start in the B Corral because they closed the corrals super early- not to mention the fact that they were closing bag check as we arrived. Not to be too much of a jerk here, but I had to pass literally 25,000 runners (seriously) before I could run unfettered, it took a good 3 miles until I could settle into a rhythm where I wasn’t running into some tutu-wearing hobby jogger’s heels. Ugh, so many tutus. Yes, I understand that they have just as much right to be out there as me, it’s just that some of us have taken our training very seriously and spent a lot of money coming to LA, so if you can understand my sense of entitlement I think we’ll all be better off. If I wanted to party with y’all, I’d have wore some bikini bottoms and painted something cute on my back like a unicorn, maybe shaved a penis shape into my chest hair. So starting in the Open Corral forced me to wait an extra 10 minutes which before a race feels like 77 years, and trying to reel in that sort of energy and keep a cool head at the same time was wasting a ton of mental energy- I was kinda pissed but kept repeating the mantra “not my fault, not anything I can do about it, why are there so many frat boys here and what’s up with all the damn tutus?” That was frustrating to say the least. These are not my people.

Third, the aid stations come every mile but it’s either water or Gatorade. I didn’t sip a single drop of that crap, because I wouldn’t train with it so I wouldn’t race with it. I did know this going in, so I was prepared to only drink water but here comes my biggest complaint. I’m not going to trash the race organizers but c’mon, if you’re giving out Clif gels for the race, couldn’t you have gotten Clif to be the official race drink sponsor too? They make a solid electrolyte drink, not some high fructose cornwater garbage that probably gives lab rats intestinal cancer. Anyway, I had to bring my own gels which isn’t a big deal, but asking the kids giving them out at the first chance to grab an extra gel (mile 13) if I could have one without caffeine and them saying they didn’t know which was which was a bit frustrating. Again, they’re just volunteers, and I was moving too fast for them to see my frustration. I kept quiet and did that sarcastic half-smile thing I am wont to do, it may have come off as evil and creepy though because I was really starting to look like shit by now.

These photos all say "proof" on them because I am really very cheap.

These photos all say “proof” on them because I am really very cheap.

Fourth, running fast is hard. I think I already said that. It’s like really very hard.

Fifth, ultras are tiny. Even The North Face Championship, with its 550 starters in four waves is a tiny race, in comparison. Miwok is like 450 starters. I haven’t done Way Too Cool, but that’s considered a huge ultra and it’s like 1100 people running. Major cities throwing a world-class marathon ARE GIGANTICALLY FUCKING HUGE. This is scary from not only a logistics standpoint but from a sanitation standpoint. There can never be enough porta-potties, never. I remember thinking on the shuttle bus that I was good to go, that poo back at the hotel was great, I’m good and empty. Nope, soon as we got off that bus I got in line for the porta-potties. I proceeded to drop a massive “nerve-induced shit”, these come from deep inside your body, this is like the cells in your hair follicles have to take a shit. I think your brain signals your intestines that you’re about to do something really very dumb that could result in possible death or at the very least severely chafed nipples, which definitely hurts worse than dying (I know because I haven’t died yet). So your body empties itself in preparation, I think it’s where the term “scared shitless” comes from.

We're all winners!

We’re all winners!

Sixth, running on pavement beats the ever-loving shit out of your legs like nothing else. For half the price of this race ($170) I could’ve paid a small French Canadian fur-trapper to beat my legs with a frozen raccoon for three hours, and they would’ve felt just as bad.

Or good, because I kind of like pain.

It gets really bad until it doesn’t hurt any worse, and the second you realize this the cramps start. So on top of a dull ligament / tendon / skeletal ache here comes this sharp, acute stabbing muscular pain. That is just fucking lovely. Soon as it’s like, okay quads, let’s be cool, the hammies start seizing. Then the hamstrings get under control and nope, the calves have turned to stone. I just don’t want any of the muscle groups in my legs to get jealous so they’re ALL INVITED TO MY DAMNED SUFFERFEST. Did you guys see the Evite? It was so cute, “don’t cramp my style” it said, so funny.

Showing you my "O" face

Showing you my “O” face

Seventh on this list is the crowd. The crowd was amazing but they were everywhere. In ultras you can hide for many miles as you run, because no one is watching. I’ve cried towards the end of races, no one saw me. I’ve pooped huge steamers in the woods, no one sees. I’ve fallen down and only my pacer saw me, and he didn’t even laugh. He also didn’t laugh when that yucca stabbed me because I tried to high-five it, but I forgot he was there with me. This crowd was in every nook and cranny of sidewalk for the entire 26.2 miles. Korean drummers, hipsters in Silver Lake, there was a KISS cover band playing somewhere (there may have been more than one now that I think about it), weirdos in Hollywood, drunk dudes on Sunset, loud cheerleaders everywhere, rich people in Beverly Hills, did I mention cheerleaders? More rich people in Brentwood, then at the finish- Santa Monica was ridiculous, there had to be a million people on Ocean Avenue alone. And never have I been in so much agony, looked so terrible, wished to hide in front of so many people. If you’re going to look bad, do it in style, and when provided the luxury do it in front of the whole world. “You look so strong!” is a lie, but dammit if I didn’t need to hear that 50 more times in those last 2 miles.

Channeling Usain Bolt with a Ric Flair sort of vibe

Channeling Usain Bolt with a Ric Flair sort of vibe

So there’s that.

In summation, because my high school English teachers always told me to put my thesis statement in the first paragraph and then again somewhere near the end in case the reader forgot, is why running a fast road marathon is really very hard.

I can not wait to party! And by party I mean drink a milkshake in my undies and go to bed a 8 PM.

I can not wait to party! And by party I mean drink a milkshake in my undies and go to bed at 8 PM.

Strava stats

Unofficial Results

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2015 Kaiser Half-Marathon Race Report

…it’s a short essay (because it’s a short race!)

That being said, without coming off too cocky I still had to remember one of my most important mantras: RESPECT THE DISTANCE.

Thirteen-point-one can, and will, eat you up.

I was psyched to do this race for a few reasons: my buddies Jimmy and Carl were running it AND I hoped to set a new half-marathon PR, having not run a road half since September of 2011; the Lake Merced Half (put on by the indomitable Dolphin South End Runners).

I ran a 1:44:04 all the way back then and figured I could take a good 10+ minutes off that time. I actually set a goal of sub-1:30 with a “reach” goal of 1:25. Based on some great workouts I’ve had in training for the LA Marathon, I thought I could go around 1:27:xx.

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Then, ten days before the race- the flu strikes! Knocked me on my ass for a full week, causing me to miss a pretty decent chunk of training; which, in hindsight, may have actually given me fresher legs for the race (although I feel I do better on higher mileage and for a shorter race like a half, a quick taper).

PRE-RACE: we got there really early, parked about 6/10ths of a mile from the start. I drank some Vitargo about 45 minutes before the gun, and we all warmed up with some slow miles around the DeYoung Museum and adjoining gardens. I felt loose and poppy, my lungs were still coughing up a ton of phlegm and my nose was a little bit runny. I guess that’s to be expected.

THE RACE: we’re off, Carl and Jimmy took off really hot and after about a half mile they were out of sight. I was sticking to my plan of trying to hang just around 6:45 pace, and adjusting that according to how I felt.

I brought 2 gels with me, figured I’d take one at :30 and the other at the hour mark. Probably didn’t need them, but sometimes the taste of sugar puts a smile on my face, and a happy runner is a fast runner.

Plus, they were giving out Gatorade on the course and I wouldn’t let a prisoner of war drink that shit in fear of violating the Geneva Convention’s torture act.

It felt pretty comfortable right up until the two-mile downhill through Lindley Meadow and Golden Gate Park out to the Great Highway, which felt even more comfortable to speed up and crank those miles out at 6:25-ish pace.

Uh, who likes to party? THIS GUY!

Uh, who likes to party? THIS GUY!

I settled into another comfortable rhythm coming out of the park into the turn south, kept looking out at the ocean and forgetting that I was cruising. Coming up on mile 8 I had remembered what Carl had said on the ride over: you’ll know by mile eight how those last five will go…

I saw Carl right after thinking about that, right before the turn around- he was maybe a mile up on me, and right after I saw Jimmy, having a rough time at an aid station, he was probably a half mile up on me.

Entering "gut check" mode.

Entering “gut check” mode.

Hairpin turn, back north. Three miles to go, starting to feel the burn. I was thinking about all those 6:52/mile marathon-paced workouts, 45-minute tempo runs at 6:29/mile pace, 800-meter repeats at sub-2:59 speed, ugh.

Here is where it counts, this is where all that early morning grunt work pays off. Oakland Tech track sessions as the sun is rising, getting uncomfortable at Lake Merritt before work, yeah. All of that is for this, right now.

Those next three miles I tried to stick with the plan, 6:45’s till the finish. I came in at 6:54, 6:52, 6:45 and a 6:37 for the last tenth of a mile. I was wavering a bit but still managed to pass a good 25+ runners in the last few miles, and didn’t get passed by anyone.

1:29:03, a new road half PR by 15 minutes and a second.

Garmin Stats

I look like death.

I look like death.

Anyway, that’s it for me.

I thought I was going to write more this year but haven’t been able to find the time.

Next up: Chabot 50k on 2/21, then the LA Marathon 3/15 and Miwok 100k on 5/2. Think I’m also going to throw either a 50-miler in there in April (I’m out of town for both American River and Lake Sonoma) or another East Bay Skyline Trail FKT attempt.

Oh, and the East Bay Trail Triple Crown Series. There are some fast runners in the area, so I think a podium would be a stretch, but I’ll give it a shot.

Stay tuned for more, y’all and thanks for reading.

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The 2014 North Face Endurance Challenge 50-Mile Championships Race Report

…well that’s a freaking mouthful. I prefer the acronym ’14 TNF50, but then you might be like, “what the…?” so, yeah- what I said above.

My race reports read kind of pedantic at times, so hopefully I can keep this interesting without boring you with every single little minute detail, but my guess is that if you’re here to read a race report there’s a pretty good chance you run these types of races, too. And like all of us trying to figure out “what went wrong?” we try to glean as much info off of each other as to not repeat the same mistakes again.

So here we go.

In the weeks leading up to the race I had some really great runs; I felt as though everything was coming together- sleeping well, eating well, keeping the stress levels down, cutting back on the mileage and bumping up the intensity a bit; everything felt right.

So I decided to do my first 5k on Thanksgiving morning, I figured a quick 3 miles as opposed to doing six or seven “junk miles” would be great for leg turnover, sharpening my speed, whatever. That went off without a hitch, I felt fast and good and generally had fun (and a pretty good time, considering how slow I am). It’s nine whole days out from North Face, I’ll be fine…

Then the next day, about 5 miles into an easy 8-miler my left hammy suddenly felt tight and uncomfortable- not painful, just tight. This was the same discomfort I had felt back in early October one morning doing a track workout that forced me to shut it down for a few days and really freaked me out; it kind of had me questioning everything in my life at that moment and coming to the conclusion that I was kind of burned out. Not only on running, but my job, too.

Luckily I was able to cut back some running and go on my honeymoon right after this. By re-prioritizing some things I was able to start enjoying running again (and by taking a week off of work I was able to start enjoying work again- funny how the island of Kaua’i has that effect on people). I had some fun runs while vacationing and didn’t feel any pressure to get out there every day and grind.

So here’s that hamstring thing again, 8 days before TNF50. I thought, “oh well, here’s my season…” but within a few days it was gone. I think tapering combined with solid nutrition and good sleep solved that whole thing. And the idea that if I wasn’t able to race North Face I’d volunteer and defer my entry to next year.

But everything has a way of working out for me. Call me lucky or just hashtag BLESSED, yo.

So the actual race report starts here:

I woke up at 2:30 AM to some coffee (if you don’t have a coffee maker that you can set the night before, get on that) and set about making some steel-cut oats. This is the first ultra I’ve run in close to two years that I actually ate before, lately I’ve been trying to get something in me about 2 hours before running (especially on some 20+ milers).

I’m not sure if this contributed to my eventual stomach issues but I think I’m just the type of runner that likes to start racing in a semi-fasted state. I don’t know if that means I’m fat-adapted or that my tummy has become so sensitive that I just can’t start running while digesting, but it might be good to figure this out going into 2015.

Anyway, ate, got dressed, got in the car at 3:30 and drove over to Marin. Listened to A Tribe Called Quest’s Low End Theory because it keeps me chilled out. Had a Vespa Super Concentrate at 4:15 am while sitting in the traffic for the thru-tunnel. Parked, got on the shuttle to the start. Pretty uneventful, standard nervous chatting with folks on the bus.

Sorted all my items into their correct drop bags, greased up, checked bags again, hit the porta-potty, got ready to queue up in Wave 2. Watched the elite wave roll out to hoots and hollers, saw all the obligatory ultra people like Bryon Powell and Dean Karnazes doing their thing, yadda yadda.

Start, let’s go. Chatted briefly with some of the guys in my wave on that first concrete section but soon as we hit the first road crossing we had thinned out considerably and it seemed like everyone was there to work. So I kept my head down and just powered into it.

First event of note: took some of my pre-mixed Vitargo-Tailwind concoction at :30 ( I had planned on taking something every :45 but just felt a wee bit flat those first three miles) and within 5 minutes knew something wasn’t okay. Luckily there was a porta-potty right at the top of the climb at what would become the Alta aid station, so I jumped in there right quick. That was a life-saver.

Felt better immediately and flew down Rodeo Valley Trail and readied for another loop. They’re making us do two loops at the beginning because they completely eliminated the 6 mile loop through Muir Woods and Redwood Creek. These beginning loops are really nice, wide groomed fire trails so I figured I could open it up a bit, it still being dark and all and really make up some time here at the beginning.

I felt great through those two loops and right after we split off from them we went up Miwok and onto Old Springs. Right here I could stop using my headlamp and lo and behold I had caught up to my buddy Tony. It was really good to see him, we had met at Miwok right around mile 45, a mutual friend had told us to look out for each other and we ended up meeting on the course (ultras are like that). We ran some of the Coastal 50k together and here we are again, running together. He told me he had just run a 5-hour Quad Dipsea seven days before and here he was giving TNF50 a go. What a monster.

We ran into Tennessee Valley together, I left my torch in my drop bag, grabbed some more Vitargo-Tailwind and took off. I neglected to do a “systems check” here and just ran. I also have to admit that I was blinded by all the ultra “stars” here, there were some elites spectating and I didn’t want to fan-boy out or look uncool, so I just kept running.

If I had stopped for just a second and asked myself “what’s going on?” my body would’ve revealed to me that I HAD TO GO POOP AGAIN. Dammit. There were porta-potties and real toilets back there, and I can’t turn around now.

So there’s a trail maybe 3/4ths of a mile out of TV that leads to Hill 88, yeah I pooped there. Well, crouching tiger-style in some weird brambly bushes and you know what? NO TOILET PAPER. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice another Buff to wipe myself a la SD100 so I said a quick prayer to the ass-crack chafing gods and hoped all of the fecal matter had projected out of me and there wasn’t any residue left behind.

I knew Muir Beach was a quick four miles away and if I ran fast I could probably get some wipes or at least some paper towels and Vaseline and be good to go. I had to think about all this the whole time I was running on the best stretch of trail on the whole course, Coastal Trail into Pirate’s Cove. I had to force myself to stay in the moment and just relax and enjoy the views.

I look happy because I just pooped.

I look happy because I just pooped.

So Muir Beach Aid was a super happening place to be; more elites and ultra royalty here- I’m not going to name drop but let’s just say one of the fastest women in the world was here, just hanging out (or possibly crewing?) Anyway, I got my paper towels and Vaseline and jumped into the porta-potty, cleaned myself up and this time did a full systems check. Good to go.

Felt awesome along Highway 1 and onto Redwood Creek and up the Heather Cutoff Trail, which was now a creek bed. Yes, that’s right. The trail was replaced at many portions by running muddy water, and I could no longer hop around puddles and stay dry, I guess I was going all in now. Actually, I guess I should be kind of surprised I made it 20 miles with dry feet.

Felt great through Cardiac Aid and was generally jazzed about everything; my pace, the weather, nutrition, hydration, etc. I was about to hit the part of the race from last year where I started to feel not-so-great. I got a fill up on water, re-stocked my Vitargo-TW mix, grabbed some Gu and did a full systems check while at Cardiac, even sat down for about 30 seconds.

Rolled out of there onto Old Mine, through Pan Toll and onto that top stretch of Matt Davis to Coastal. Just like deja vu in reverse, I started to feel not-so-great. Same spot last year, even though this was about six miles further in. I just felt a little bit flat here so I took a Gu, not wanting the 200+ calories from my V-TW mix and it seemed to help a bit. Looking back at my Garmin file, this was some of my most inconsistent running of the day.

The cascading water coming down off Mt. Tam was beautiful here and I stopped a few times to enjoy it (or so I told myself) but in actuality I was really just feeling kind of spent. I made the decision to run hard to the next aid station (McKennan Gulch) and then re-assess.

The idea of dropping started to creep in here and I had to surround myself with other people to make sure I made the right decision. Once again, (just like last year) the second half of the top ten elite women’s pack was heading towards me; Alicia Shay,YiOu Wang and Kami Semick were three runners I recognized, as well as some guys just outside the top-50 like Joe Uhan and Salomon team manager Greg Vollet.

The constant stopping and jumping off the trail to yield was both annoying and frustrating but part of the course’s rules (see page six of the 50-mile Course Guide) but I figured I was collecting some good trail karma by doing it and that the favors would be returned.

Just before the aid station I saw Coach Sally McRae- we had met on a training run a few weeks before right near Muir Beach, exchanging pleasantries as we passed each other. We both said “hi” and I said something like “you’re so rad” or something like that and powered along the road down into McKennan. I chugged some Mountain Dew and asked everybody how they were doing, kind of lingered a minute really trying to decide if I was done for the day. I drank another Dew (I do the Dew, yo) and then figured if I didn’t improve on the downhill into Stinson, I’d drop there.

Well I gotta say this is where everything turned around for me as far as that shitty mind-state I was in was concerned. I started to feel really great here- I was actually moving well and able to find a good rhythm; to the credit of a good 90% of the runners that were actually yielding the trail here.

Down the treacherous Matt Davis Trail, I’m starting to pass runners now at an alarming clip. I stopped to pee real quick, then bombing down past fallen trees, rivulets and streams that weren’t there two weeks prior, smiling at hikers, just basically killing it and feeling good.

I greet Stinson Beach Aid station with a classic Dr. Nick “Hi everybody!” and chug some more Dew, tell everyone they look awesome, geek out on all the ultra stars there and then bounce. I flew up Dipsea and felt awesome right until it splits off to Steep Ravine. Wait, what? We’re going up Steep Ravine? Since when? I guess I should’ve read that course guide a wee bit closer.

Not that I was disappointed, SR Trail was as epic as I’ve ever seen it- gushing like a broken dam, just straight deluge coming down. Pretty, beautiful, loud, just amazing. I power hiked the ups and ran the flat(-ish) sections as best I could. I took some more V-TW mix and kept at it.

Uh oh. Not feeling too good again here. Feel like I got the wind sucked out of my legs on Old Mine going back into Cardiac Aid, I was just feeling so good at Stinson. Oh well, such is the ultramarathon. Highs and lows and high and lows. Took the chance at Cardiac to sit down and chill for a minute, really lube up and see what was going on.

I think (and I hope I’m wrong) it was the Tailwind. Having only trained with it briefly before this race I can’t help but think that’s what was wrecking my tummy- I’ve been doing Vitargo for a year now, Gu are like oxygen during races (as is the DEW, oh you sweet nectar of the gods) so maybe it was the Tailwind?

Hate to throw them under the bus here but it felt like 5-10 minutes after every feeding of the V-TW mix my tummy just went south, like I had to take a dump and then my legs felt sluggish. Maybe Tailwind and Vitargo are not to be mixed? I’ve got to figure that out.

So I took 2 Gu Roctane Electro caps, washed it down with some more Dew and took off. I knew it was all downhill to Muir Beach Aid and hopefully I could restore myself by letting gravity do all the work.

The next mile or so was kind of rough but soon as I hit the switchbacks down Heather Cutoff I felt better. I’ve run a bunch of different races out here and always have said “I hate going DOWN Heather Cutoff” but this time it was more than welcome. The muddy splashing mixed with dodging the 50k runners coming up (and almost all were yielding like champs so I must say THANK YOU 50K RUNNERS!!!) even though uphill traffic usually gets the right of way, I guess they were instructed to let us have the right of way down? Either way, I’d love to buy y’all a pizza.

So flew across that grassy field and across Muir Woods Road onto Redwood Creek, I was moving at a decent clip now and as I spit out onto Route 1 for that little stretch of road into MB Aid I see Hal Koerner and his baby daughter, just chilling and smiling.

“Dude, you’re Hal Koerner. You’re kinda the man.”

“No way- you’re kinda the man” says Hal. That was a cool moment. Good times.

Oh yeah, back to the race and around this time I noticed how bad my legs were hurting. Concrete has a subtle and shitty way of reminding you that you’ve been running for seven-plus hours, so thanks for that.

I am faking it right here.

I am faking it right here.

MB Aid- got a refill on water, chugged 2 cups of the Dew and took off. Ran really well up Coyote Ridge- catching up to Tony (who was really feeling the Quad Dipsea now, he told me to “run ALL of Marincello!”), so I alternated power hiking and shuffling but felt spent on the slight downhill over to Miwok and into Tennessee Valley.

Slammed a salted caramel Gu, took another cup of Dew and put the headphones back on and decided that this was it.

Gut check time.

How much grit did I have? How bad was I willing to hurt in order to be proud of my finish and ultimately my 2014 season?

So many highs and lows today.

So many highs and lows this year.

I was going to have to go deeper into the pain cave, maybe deeper than I’ve ever gone; just let it all in, completely and totally. Just have to accept that it might get a lot worse. This is where music plays an important role- it’s like a natural painkiller.

Luckily, my iPod cooperated with me and I got Girl Talk’s “Oh No” first (a mashup containing Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” and Ludacris’ “Move Bitch”) so that got me beyond hype. Then Crystal Method’s “Busy Child”, another jam that causes me to jump out of my skin.

I forget what else I listened to (I vaguely recall there was some Metallica, Bloc Party and Wilson Pickett in there) until I got to Alta aid station, the last aid and right at the top of Rodeo Valley Trail, the last descent. You can see the finish line from here, it’s less than three miles away.

So on comes The National’s “Mr. November”. I slammed 2 cups of Dew and took off, running between low-6 and low-7 pace down to the flat.

I also started to cry a little, as I am wont to do in the late stages of an ultra. I think all the pain, the relief, the journey, the accomplishment, the discomfort, everything sort of coalesces and there’s not a whole lot you can do to stop it. So I had a nice little cry to this National song while running 6:30s down RVT.

I pulled my hat down low so no one could see the grown man with tears running down his cheeks.

Of course I get over that moment and my ego kicks back in on that last pavement section as a few 50k and marathon runners pass me, and I’m all, “OH, HELLLLL NOOOOOOO” so I decide on a sprint finish because I am the only person allowed to wreck my sweet photo op.

I had to out-kick that nice couple behind me that were running the marathon together. I know, I'm a jerk.

I had to out-kick that nice couple behind me that were running the marathon together. I know, I’m a jerk.

That split from TV to the finish was by far the best part of the race for me, running the last 5.62 miles in 53:29.

Garmin Stats here.

Every race has become a new learning experience for me or another chance to grow; I spent a whole day trying to figure out what was wrong with me and what was right with me, etc.

The thing I learned last Saturday: it’s all part of the process and there’s not really any point in trying to figure it out because it takes away from the actual experience. In those few fleeting moments where I was in a state of flow, deep in it; whether it be pain, joy, discomfort, whatever; I was lost in the moment.

And that’s really what it’s all supposed to be about- getting lost in the moment, letting it wash over you…

…and ultimately allowing it to change you.

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Gratitude, All Year Long (and Into Next Year…)

I’m so very grateful for this past year and all the amazing running adventures I’ve been lucky to take part in;

-chasing a new 50k PR at Chabot (and just missing it by less than 3 minutes!)

– getting redemption at the Lake Sonoma 50 (and being “pushed” across the finish line by my buddy Kevin)

– having a blast at the Miwok 100k (that race is a party, what a fun time)

– finishing my first hundred miler down at the San Diego 100 in Lake Cuyamaca (getting the chance to share that with my awesome crew/pacers)

– getting to run my third Skyline 50k (and learning another lesson in the process)

– having such a good time racing for five hours (just missed it!) at the Coastal 50k and sharing in the awesome post-race vibe at Rodeo Beach with wonderful “ultra” folks

– all the epic Thursday night runs with Jimmy, Carl and Lucas, et. al.

– finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention running up and down Mt. Whitney and a super fun run up Shepherd’s Pass Trail in the majestic eastern Sierras

As I’ve turned my focus to one last 50-miler for 2014 (The North Face, one week from today), I’m reminded how much joy running has brought me and how far I’ve come because of running.

Running has brought me a little more calm, a little more discipline and little more stick-to-it-iveness than I had before I started this journey.

Getting up early; keeping an obsessive journal of miles, time, pace and elevation gain; sticking to a training plan day-in and day-out; making it out for group runs; making new friends on the trails; all that stuff that helps make me a better version of myself than the me I was four years ago.

There’s also the idea that in order to truly grow in this sport you have to accept and take on new challenges, just like in life- adapt or stay stagnant; the battle between growth vs. fixed-mind set.

I’ve written before that (I’m paraphrasing here) “I hope I never run a road race like a marathon or Badwater, blah blah blah; I want to be all about the trails yadda yadda yadda…” but looking back on that juvenile stance I can see that it’s really just my fear talking.

I’m actually scared to run a road marathon.

26.2 miles at the top end of your speed? That’s some truly terrifying shit. I hid behind the “I’d rather see mud and rocks and trees and talk to folks and laugh at aid stations” line but in actuality I’m so frightened to go out and give it everything I got for three hours.

I’ve run a lot of ultras and plan on running more, they’re not going anywhere, and judging from the growing popularity of the sport I’d say there will be more to choose from in the coming years.

I’ve got four tickets in the Western States lottery this year, if I get in that’s awesome; if not- I’ll have 5 tickets for next year.

That race isn’t going anywhere.

I can still run another 100 next year. I’ll definitely run a few 50 milers, hopefully a few 100ks, maybe a 50k or two, I’m not going to lose the “ultrarunner” tag because I ran a few road races. If anything, I’m hoping to become a more well-rounded runner.

But a road marathon? Yes, I’m going to try to run a road marathon. For this upcoming March I signed up for the LA Marathon. I think of all my favorite ultrarunners, the guys and gals I look up to in this sport; the Max Kings, Ian Sharmans, Pam Smiths and Mike Wardians; guys like Brett and Jorge from SFRC; people that just love to run, any distance, any surface, anywhere, any time.

I’d love to look at myself as a runner rather than “just” a long trail runner.

But here’s the kicker; I’m not running this race just for me. I’m running it for a charity called Back On My Feet. I thought if I was going to do something so far outside of my comfort zone, I might as well do it in epic fashion.

Meaning; bringing along as many people as I can- rather; doing this for as many people as I possibly can.

Here’s the donation link: Jimmy Mac’s Fundraising Page

I know, it’s the holiday season and we’re all strapped for cash, but a $3, $5 or a $20 donation helps me get closer and closer to my goal.

I’m grateful for the chance to do this and grateful for the ability to do it. I’m grateful for all the joy and camaraderie running has brought into my life; as well as the fear and vulnerability that shows up, the uncomfortable voice that nudges me towards “change”.

And in turn I hope that change can help others, just a little bit.

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Running Mt. Whitney

This past August I ran up Mt. Whitney. It was a lot of fun- here’s the video I made.

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Shepherd’s Pass Trail, August 19th, 2014

A few months ago I did this run from Independence, CA up to Shepherd’s Pass along the Shepherd’s Pass Trail.

It was super gnarly. The only thing harder than the run was editing and uploading the video.

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Coastal 50k Race Report

The Coastal 50k is the crown jewel of all of the Coastal Trail Run races; it’s a point-to-point from Stinson Beach to Rodeo Beach that hits all the Marin Headland highlights. It’s pretty much a “have-to” in my book from now on; even if I’m beat up next year from whatever 100-miler I’m going to do (or if I plan to do one after) I feel like I have to run this race.

Let’s get started on the report:

…so this is about the closest I’ve come to feeling like I nailed a race since last year at Dick Collins; even though I did have a rough patch (again, right at miles 22-to-25; seems to happen almost every 50k for me these days) I was able to finish very strong and (almost) hit all my goals. I had very little problem solving to do, I just wanted to put my head down and get to work.

I ran with a hydration pack which was a first in a 50k; I’m usually good with a single hand-held (and throwing another in a drop bag to pick up later in case I was getting dehydrated) but since there were no drop bags in this race, I figured I’d give the Camelbak bladder a go.

I always lose a good 5 minutes in aid stations, I’m way too chatty. I figured I’d stop at every other one and get a fill-up. This way, I could run through and say “thanks for being out here, you guys are awesome” and not lose a second. Genius!

So here’s a breakdown of my goals and how the race went within the context of all that:

Goal #1: run under 5 hours

Missed this one by 5:56; and I can only think it was that aforementioned “rough patch” between miles 22-25, right after the first Rodeo Valley aid station. I felt really good coming out of there and soon as I hit the incline my legs just couldn’t generate any power. I was doing the math on how much Vitargo and Gu I had eaten during the previous hour and thought I was okay, so I ate another Gu. After a few minutes I felt a little queasy, tried mixing some running in here and there, then about halfway up got passed by a guy I had passed back at mile 12 (I think I scared the shit out of him when I passed, too- he might have been a little bit pissed).

I figured “great, here they come” which is what happened at Skyline a month ago; one runner passes you, then it’s like a torrent of demoralization in the form of faster runners and people that didn’t go out at a silly, unsustainable pace. I watched him just bang away at the incline, disappearing into the fog towards the top of the climb.

So I took a ginger chew right there, just kind of sucked on it for about 5 minutes as I continued to work at the climb; I minute of shuffling, a minute of power-hiking. I spit it out, took another Gu and said to myself, “if I’m going to puke in a race, let it be now”. I got to the top of the climb and was able to run, it was that really cool stretch of single track on the SCA Trail, totally enveloped in fog.

I was able to bomb down the switchbacks pretty well, and started to see some of the lead runners. Of course I get passed again right at the road crossing, and a minute or so later I saw my buddy Tony coming up those same switchbacks. We high-fived, I told him he looked really strong and that gave me a temporary mental boost as I hit the paved section that winds down under the Golden Gate Bridge and few into the Fort Baker aid station.

Took a couple shots of Coke, got some Vaseline (I had some chafing under my arms from rubbing against my Ultimate Direction pack- it’s always that same damn spot!) and then flew back up that paved road, passing back that guy that had got me up the Rodeo Valley Trail climb. I knew that I had to work really hard now because this was it as far as climbs go; this is the last one, and it’s all downhill from the top.

I should also mention that I was counting runners on the way down, and I came up with 8 runners ahead of me (I never saw eventual winner and CR holder Jorge Maravilla, he was moving!) With only eight guys ahead of me, that brings me to mention my next goal:

Goal #2: run in the top 10 all day.

The best position I held was between Cardiac and Muir Beach, I had pushed up to 6th. I went out really hard on the Dipsea- I tried to keep Jorge and the other leaders within view at least until we hit Steep Ravine. I passed 2-3 runners up that and hit Pantoll at 37:26, feeling really good. My favorite stretch of trail in the entire race would be right here on Alpine to TCC, and I hit Cardiac at exactly an hour. Okay, I thought. Today could be a good day.

I passed that guy on Coast View Trail right before the switchbacks down Heather Cutoff, just flew down them. I heard a “yeah Jimmy!” from a few switchbacks above and saw Tony with the biggest smile on his face, he was feeling good and moving fast. I ran with him from the road crossing (where Heather Cutoff intersects Redwood Creek) and we ran to MB together.

He took off out of Muir Beach so I trailed him for a while until he was out of sight and pretty much ran alone for the next 10 miles. Felt good through Tennessee Valley, which presented me with my next challenge for the day.

Goal #3: run all of Marincello.

It came earlier than in a few other races (I think it comes at mile 44 at TNF & maybe mile 39 at Miwok) so I knew I’d have some pop in my legs, but I wanted to go up the Marincello climb very aggressively. Since this wasn’t a target race for the second half of the season but something I did taper for, it falls into the “B” race category which means “try out some stuff”.

I always take it way too easy up Marincello, like I’m looking forward to it so I can walk/power-hike/shuffle the 1.4 mile climb. If you’re not familiar with the Marincello climb, it’s a long but mellow hill south out of Tennessee Valley; I think they were calling it the “$10,000 Climb” because that’s where last year’s TNFEC Championship race was going to be won (and it was, with Rob Krar finding another gear to break away from Chris Vargo right here).

Anyway, I was able to complete the 1.4 mile climb in a little more than 18 minutes, which for me is pretty solid. If I can take anything away from the race it’s that I felt good powering up Marincello.

So that’s about it for goals; I wanted to go really hard in some places to see what I needed to do to get ready for TNF in December; I think along with some recent speed sessions a huge key for me is doing some harder stuff on Sunday’s runs- basically going just a tad harder on tired legs.

I see some folks on the Strava doing some progression-type runs on Sundays; I think I’m going to give that a shot. Along with my new training plan (been using Hal Koerner’s guide from his new book, make sure you check that out) which adds speed stuff on Thursday, I’m going to mix in a few progression runs- if you’re not familiar with these types of workouts, basically you’re splitting your run into two or three parts; the first half (or third) is done relatively easy, then you “progress” to a faster pace, increasing intensity and effort; ending at either marathon, 10k or 5k pace (sounds ouchy).

I’m going to do these by feel, as if I’m not too beat up after a hard Thursday plus Saturday long run. We’ll see…

Here’s the official results and a cute little pic of me turning off my watch at the finish line (dude?):

9th place overall

5th pace men’s 30-39

5:05:56 (9:48 per mile)

Garmin elevation: 6,192 feet (official elev. listed as 5,810 feet)


Hey, thanks for reading!

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