Today I went out for an easy 2 hours on the Superior Hiking Trail. I started at Enger Tower, headed west of an hour and came back. The trail was in great shape, very runnable (as "runnable" as the SHT can get) save for the wooden bridges and planks which were very slippery.
It's so nice to have so many great trails to choose from in this town. I can go from technical single track like the Superior Hiking trail, to hilly ski trails, to relatively flat snowmobile trails and get in a long run on any of them, and all of them are within a few minutes of my house. I feel lucky to live in such a place on this planet.
Speaking of the planet, a couple of weeks ago I came across this video:
When I see this video, I think of the power of "home". On this single planet, we all have a home. It may be difficult to think of 6 billion people unified, but this video is evidence that we are, at least in a sense of sharing a home.
RIP to the Talons
After the Living History Farms race, it became apparent to me that my beloved Inov8 X-Talon 212s had ran their last race. I'd gotten 3 good seasons out of those shoes, literally using them year round. I'd taken them through mud, rain, snow, standing water, slush, sand, tall grass. Over rocks, roads, dirt, ice. Never have I ran in a shoe that was so able to handle all of those conditions so well. I'll be buying a new pair soon and will look forward to many miles of wonderful running with them.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Living History Farms
This past weekend I traveled down to Des Moines to participate in the Living History Farms Race. The "Farms Race", as it's known in Iowa, is a 7 mile cross country race that brings in over 7000 people. It's the largest cross country race in North America. The course is a challenging one, with 7 creek crossings, plenty of mud and steep hills.
Dave Schuneman, Kandi Geary and Shane Olson came down as well, so we had a great DRC contingent to represent northern Minnesota. Shane ran the XC race with me, Kandi cheered us on and Dave raced in the first ever Survivor Cross race, a CycleCross race later in the day that ran along the same course.
I've ran this race a few times over the years, but it's probably been about 8 years or so since I last ran it, so it was really fun for me to get back there. This race is admittedly over crowded, and I knew that the first half or so would be slow so I started off in the middle of the pack. I didn't start my watch, but I'm sure my first mile was around 10 to 11 minutes. I didn't really care, running fast wasn't my priority, I just wanted to have fun and re-live the race.
As we twisted our way through some of the living farmsteads of the Living History Farms grounds and the old familiar smell of horse crap filled our noses, I started moving up. Through corn fields and pastures we eventually worked into the wooded areas of the complex and began our series of creek crossings. Jumping into the first crossing I must have hit a low spot because I sunk down and the water wet up past my knees. This caused me to fall forward a bit and my hands caught me as I was heading down, sinking deep into the muddy bank on the opposite side of the creek. I pulled out both hands and they were black with Iowa mud.
Most of the creek crossings were pretty shallow and only required a step or two to get through them but on 2 or 3 of them, a very steep, slippery bank waited on the other side. These were a challenge to get up but they are what make the LHF race so famous. It's why people come, to get really muddy and have a blast!
I finally caught Shane, who had gone out really fast, around mile 4. I asked him how he was doing, "I'm trying to catch Sponge Bob," he said. So I took it upon myself to find Sponge Bob, who apparently had been ahead of Shane for the entire race, almost taunting Shane with his squeaky voice and square pants. I took off, trying desperately to chase down that bastard Sponge Bob.
Literally over the river and through the woods I went, searching for a giant yellow square sponge. I made the last, long climb up through a pasture, hurdled a few logs along the way and came back into the town area to finish along the main street. Alas, I never saw Sponge Bob but I had a great time anyway.
Below is a short video of Dave traversing one of the creek crossings during his CycleCross race. The steep climb up the muddy hill had to be even more difficult with a bike on your shoulder!
Dave Schuneman, Kandi Geary and Shane Olson came down as well, so we had a great DRC contingent to represent northern Minnesota. Shane ran the XC race with me, Kandi cheered us on and Dave raced in the first ever Survivor Cross race, a CycleCross race later in the day that ran along the same course.
I've ran this race a few times over the years, but it's probably been about 8 years or so since I last ran it, so it was really fun for me to get back there. This race is admittedly over crowded, and I knew that the first half or so would be slow so I started off in the middle of the pack. I didn't start my watch, but I'm sure my first mile was around 10 to 11 minutes. I didn't really care, running fast wasn't my priority, I just wanted to have fun and re-live the race.
As we twisted our way through some of the living farmsteads of the Living History Farms grounds and the old familiar smell of horse crap filled our noses, I started moving up. Through corn fields and pastures we eventually worked into the wooded areas of the complex and began our series of creek crossings. Jumping into the first crossing I must have hit a low spot because I sunk down and the water wet up past my knees. This caused me to fall forward a bit and my hands caught me as I was heading down, sinking deep into the muddy bank on the opposite side of the creek. I pulled out both hands and they were black with Iowa mud.
Most of the creek crossings were pretty shallow and only required a step or two to get through them but on 2 or 3 of them, a very steep, slippery bank waited on the other side. These were a challenge to get up but they are what make the LHF race so famous. It's why people come, to get really muddy and have a blast!
I finally caught Shane, who had gone out really fast, around mile 4. I asked him how he was doing, "I'm trying to catch Sponge Bob," he said. So I took it upon myself to find Sponge Bob, who apparently had been ahead of Shane for the entire race, almost taunting Shane with his squeaky voice and square pants. I took off, trying desperately to chase down that bastard Sponge Bob.
Literally over the river and through the woods I went, searching for a giant yellow square sponge. I made the last, long climb up through a pasture, hurdled a few logs along the way and came back into the town area to finish along the main street. Alas, I never saw Sponge Bob but I had a great time anyway.
Below is a short video of Dave traversing one of the creek crossings during his CycleCross race. The steep climb up the muddy hill had to be even more difficult with a bike on your shoulder!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
A Nice Double and The Folly of Moderation
Today was a great day of trail running for me as I was able to squeeze in not one, not three, but TWO good efforts on the trails! This morning I did 2 hours out on the Voyageur course. I started at the zoo and went out for one hour. I got about a mile (maybe a little less) beyond the Beck's Road before I turned around and came back.
It was interesting because the usual thought is that for the full Voyageur, it's a little more difficult coming back (from the zoo to Carlton) than it is going out (Carlton to the zoo). So with that in mind, I assumed I'd get back in about 55 minutes since I (a) went out very easy and (b) pushed it a bit more coming back. Well, I pretty much ran the second half of my run today in the same time I ran the first. This makes me believe that (a) it's very possible that when doing the full Voyageur that the second half is slower (and if so, is that a result of the course being more difficult or is it more because you're just so damn tired?) and (b) maybe, the difficult climb up to Spirit Mtn. is more than made up for during the long downhill on Skyline and after crossing Beck's Road? (this being on the way back to Carlton.) Interesting, I'll have to delve deeper into that mystery.
My second run of the day was the 5.5k NMTC run at Pine Valley. It sucked! Okay, truth be told it was a lot of fun. The trails were great, there were a lot of great people out there to chat with before and after the race, and I didn't puke! Yep, we'll call that a success.
The course was a roller coaster, (minus the upside down loopy thing) with really nice surface to run on. My legs were predictably not willing to try to race for 1k, let alone 5.5k but my brain was stubborn so I pushed on pretty much as hard as I could. By 2k my brain was starting to question itself and my legs were saying "See! I told you so! Why the hell don't you listen to me!?"
Well, my legs were pretty much my parents and my brain was pretty much an insubordinate teenager (as it nearly always is) so I pressed onward, consequences be damned! As it turned out I ended up gaining a few spots in the middle of the course and finished in the top 19 which wasn't too bad, for me. Plus if you throw out the college kids and the recently out of college kids (which you should, if you're 40) and if you throw out the other people who are simply way faster than me, then I'm sure I finished in the top 5.
As it turned out, today's running was a bit of a tribute to Barb and Gene Curnow. Barb and Gene have devoted countless hours to the running community over the years; directing the Voyageur and Half Voyageur, and heading up the NMTC races. They both retired from the NMTC and Voyageur races. Today was their last event as directors and will be sorely missed as such. They are living treasures of running in Duluth. And while I've only known them for a very short time, it's been an honor to assist in the NMTC races, to run the Voyageur and to hear all of their stories of running and runners over the years.
So with today's double that I did, and the fact that they both required some effort, I got to thinking about Moderation. It's a concept that I'm very familiar with. I have Norwegian blood, I come from 2 families of Iowa farmers. Moderation is our creed, our mantra.
However, I've often heard the phrase "everything in moderation". Now maybe I've blogged about this before, (sometimes I forget where I share with people my version of genius) but the very term, "everything in moderation" is, by definition, NOT moderation. Because you can't do "everything" in one way and consider it Moderation, you simply must do some things in excess. Like Chocolate. Face it, chocolate is a helluva lot better in excess than it is in moderation. (Again, consequences be damned!)
And as I proved today, running is sometimes better in excess. (Hell, I probably proved it at Sawtooth but I'm not always quick to discover the obvious) Moderation would have told me to not run the NMTC race today but I'm really glad I did. My legs will probably have the final say (parents usually do) but I will sleep tonight pleased with my excess. I can say, with a moderate amount of confidence, that excess equals satisfaction. (But not always)
It was interesting because the usual thought is that for the full Voyageur, it's a little more difficult coming back (from the zoo to Carlton) than it is going out (Carlton to the zoo). So with that in mind, I assumed I'd get back in about 55 minutes since I (a) went out very easy and (b) pushed it a bit more coming back. Well, I pretty much ran the second half of my run today in the same time I ran the first. This makes me believe that (a) it's very possible that when doing the full Voyageur that the second half is slower (and if so, is that a result of the course being more difficult or is it more because you're just so damn tired?) and (b) maybe, the difficult climb up to Spirit Mtn. is more than made up for during the long downhill on Skyline and after crossing Beck's Road? (this being on the way back to Carlton.) Interesting, I'll have to delve deeper into that mystery.
My second run of the day was the 5.5k NMTC run at Pine Valley. It sucked! Okay, truth be told it was a lot of fun. The trails were great, there were a lot of great people out there to chat with before and after the race, and I didn't puke! Yep, we'll call that a success.
The course was a roller coaster, (minus the upside down loopy thing) with really nice surface to run on. My legs were predictably not willing to try to race for 1k, let alone 5.5k but my brain was stubborn so I pushed on pretty much as hard as I could. By 2k my brain was starting to question itself and my legs were saying "See! I told you so! Why the hell don't you listen to me!?"
Well, my legs were pretty much my parents and my brain was pretty much an insubordinate teenager (as it nearly always is) so I pressed onward, consequences be damned! As it turned out I ended up gaining a few spots in the middle of the course and finished in the top 19 which wasn't too bad, for me. Plus if you throw out the college kids and the recently out of college kids (which you should, if you're 40) and if you throw out the other people who are simply way faster than me, then I'm sure I finished in the top 5.
As it turned out, today's running was a bit of a tribute to Barb and Gene Curnow. Barb and Gene have devoted countless hours to the running community over the years; directing the Voyageur and Half Voyageur, and heading up the NMTC races. They both retired from the NMTC and Voyageur races. Today was their last event as directors and will be sorely missed as such. They are living treasures of running in Duluth. And while I've only known them for a very short time, it's been an honor to assist in the NMTC races, to run the Voyageur and to hear all of their stories of running and runners over the years.
So with today's double that I did, and the fact that they both required some effort, I got to thinking about Moderation. It's a concept that I'm very familiar with. I have Norwegian blood, I come from 2 families of Iowa farmers. Moderation is our creed, our mantra.
However, I've often heard the phrase "everything in moderation". Now maybe I've blogged about this before, (sometimes I forget where I share with people my version of genius) but the very term, "everything in moderation" is, by definition, NOT moderation. Because you can't do "everything" in one way and consider it Moderation, you simply must do some things in excess. Like Chocolate. Face it, chocolate is a helluva lot better in excess than it is in moderation. (Again, consequences be damned!)
And as I proved today, running is sometimes better in excess. (Hell, I probably proved it at Sawtooth but I'm not always quick to discover the obvious) Moderation would have told me to not run the NMTC race today but I'm really glad I did. My legs will probably have the final say (parents usually do) but I will sleep tonight pleased with my excess. I can say, with a moderate amount of confidence, that excess equals satisfaction. (But not always)
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Winter Running (Soon, Tony, very soon)
It's been an amazing Autumn for running, lately. The temps have been slightly about normal and we've had very little rain. I really love running during this time of the year for a couple of reasons, one being the weather. But also, I love the fact that the racing season is over, and you can simply run just to run. There's a difference between running and training, and it's nice to get out of the training mode for a bit and just enjoy the run for what it is.
That being said, I'm also really looking forward to some winter running! I love the sound of that first crunch of snow underfoot, the completely different scenery along the trails and the soft, forgiving surface. The video below, of Tony Krupicka, describes it well.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Park 2 Park 2 Park (2 Park 2 Park) and the mindset of mud
Three days of running in a row concluded today with a 2.5 hour run on the trails. I took off from my apartment on 1st Street and headed up the hill to Chester. The colors and the temperatures have been amazing lately and it's been great to take advantage of Duluth's incredible trail system. I plodded along up through lower Chester at a leisurely pace, trying to keep my heart rate low. A quick loop through upper Chester's ski trails and I was off to Bagley to enjoy the scenery there.
Little did I know, or rather, I had completely forgotten that the NMTC trail race was taking part in Bagley at the time. I dinked around for a loop in Bagley, trying to stay out of the racers way (luckily I got there as the leaders were finishing up, so I didn't get in anyone's way) and crossed Arrowhead to Hartley, assuming to get lost!
Back to Bagley for a bit, however. Last Friday, before Saturday's wind and rain, I did a loop through Bagley and was taken aback by the stunning colors there. The leaves on the maple trees were thick and this incredible neon green/yellow color. Against a clear blue sky they created this ceiling of gold above me as I ran on the perfect wood chipped trails. It was one of the most simple, beautiful runs I've ever had.
Okay, now to Hartley. I actually didn't get lost! I think I'm starting to get most of that park figured out now. Anyway, I entered off of Arrowhead, headed over to the guard rail loop, cruised over to the Nature Center, doubled back a bit and exited Hartley again at Arrowhead where I retraced my route back home through Bagley and Chester.
It was a classic day of trails in Duluth!
Despite the rain we had Saturday night and Sunday morning, the trails were very dry, save for a few spots in Hartley along the COGGS trails. I want to declare, publicly, that I LOVE MUD! It's one of the great things about trail running, getting dirty! As I see it, if your legs aren't covered in mud after a trail run, then no matter how good the run was, it still wasn't complete!
When I co-directed the world famous Pilot Knob Trail Race in Forest City, Iowa we had two races per year, a 15k in the spring and a 5 miler in the fall. Our race and those trails were notorious for being incredibly muddy. I'm talking about slipping around corners and falling muddy. Sliding down hills on your ass muddy! One year for the 15k it was an absolute downpour, the people had a blast! I remember one lady saying "Why don't they pave these trails?!" She never came back!
There are some runners who simply don't like running in muddy conditions. When they encounter a puddle, they will do everything they can to avoid it. Slowing down to a walk, tip toeing around the edges, their shoulders hunched up as if trying not to wake a sleeping lion. For some reason, they seem to feel that their running clothes should be treated like their finest dress clothes. It's the mindset. The mindset that mud is to be avoided. At all times.
Me, I go in with the feeling that this is my chance! Why do I care if my shoes are muddy? Why do I care if the back of my white running shirts are all permanently stained with mud splatters? These puddles, these muddy runways are opportunities to bring back my inner child, to get dirty and play!
Life is not always a smoothly paved road that lies down for you and surrenders. Sometimes it's a hilly, rocky, mud strewn trail that fights back. Treat each as they are. Respect each as they are. And in that present moment do what the situation calls for. Next time, run right through the middle of that damn puddle!
Little did I know, or rather, I had completely forgotten that the NMTC trail race was taking part in Bagley at the time. I dinked around for a loop in Bagley, trying to stay out of the racers way (luckily I got there as the leaders were finishing up, so I didn't get in anyone's way) and crossed Arrowhead to Hartley, assuming to get lost!
Back to Bagley for a bit, however. Last Friday, before Saturday's wind and rain, I did a loop through Bagley and was taken aback by the stunning colors there. The leaves on the maple trees were thick and this incredible neon green/yellow color. Against a clear blue sky they created this ceiling of gold above me as I ran on the perfect wood chipped trails. It was one of the most simple, beautiful runs I've ever had.
Okay, now to Hartley. I actually didn't get lost! I think I'm starting to get most of that park figured out now. Anyway, I entered off of Arrowhead, headed over to the guard rail loop, cruised over to the Nature Center, doubled back a bit and exited Hartley again at Arrowhead where I retraced my route back home through Bagley and Chester.
It was a classic day of trails in Duluth!
Despite the rain we had Saturday night and Sunday morning, the trails were very dry, save for a few spots in Hartley along the COGGS trails. I want to declare, publicly, that I LOVE MUD! It's one of the great things about trail running, getting dirty! As I see it, if your legs aren't covered in mud after a trail run, then no matter how good the run was, it still wasn't complete!
When I co-directed the world famous Pilot Knob Trail Race in Forest City, Iowa we had two races per year, a 15k in the spring and a 5 miler in the fall. Our race and those trails were notorious for being incredibly muddy. I'm talking about slipping around corners and falling muddy. Sliding down hills on your ass muddy! One year for the 15k it was an absolute downpour, the people had a blast! I remember one lady saying "Why don't they pave these trails?!" She never came back!
There are some runners who simply don't like running in muddy conditions. When they encounter a puddle, they will do everything they can to avoid it. Slowing down to a walk, tip toeing around the edges, their shoulders hunched up as if trying not to wake a sleeping lion. For some reason, they seem to feel that their running clothes should be treated like their finest dress clothes. It's the mindset. The mindset that mud is to be avoided. At all times.
Me, I go in with the feeling that this is my chance! Why do I care if my shoes are muddy? Why do I care if the back of my white running shirts are all permanently stained with mud splatters? These puddles, these muddy runways are opportunities to bring back my inner child, to get dirty and play!
Life is not always a smoothly paved road that lies down for you and surrenders. Sometimes it's a hilly, rocky, mud strewn trail that fights back. Treat each as they are. Respect each as they are. And in that present moment do what the situation calls for. Next time, run right through the middle of that damn puddle!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Sawtooth review
Well it's been nearly 2 weeks since I ran Sawtooth. I told myself I'd wait a while before blogging about it so that I'd have some time to let it sink in. Here's what I can say about it: It's really hard!
There's no doubt about it, 100 miles is a long way to go on foot. Sawtooth was by far the most difficult thing I've ever done. I have this strange mixture of pride and disappointment concerning the race. I'm proud that I finished, that I ran the whole time and for the most part kept my spirits up. But I'm also disappointed that I ran slower than what I thought I was capable of.
Concerning the aspects of the race that I'm proud of; like I said, I'm very pleased that I pretty much didn't stop. I don't think I took longer than 10 minutes at any aid station. I never really stopped and pouted or felt defeated. I never once questioned myself if I would make it all the way. I was confident that I would always locate the strength I needed.
Running Sawtooth was a continuous series of peaks and valleys, especially after about mile 40 or so. It was then that things started to get tough. I'd slow down, my legs would be screaming, my feet would be screaming (whoever said you can't feel more than one pain at a time has never ran 100 miles!) But suddenly, my strength would return and I'd be running again. I never knew how long either episode would last, but my mindset was to take advantage of the good stretches and use them and not to worry about the bad stretches and just work through them. The key was always to keep moving forward.
I think priority number one for any 100 miler and especially for a person's first 100 miler is to finish. First and foremost the goal is to finish. I never lost sight of that goal.
However, it's in that priority number two that my disappointment lies, finishing time. I thought my window would be anywhere from 27 hours to 32 hours. People have said for Sawtooth you pretty much take your Voyageur time and multiply it by 3. That would've put me in that window I had set for myself. I hit the 50 mile point in about 13 hours, which was right on time, I still should've been in that window, and by mile 60 or so, I was feeling really good. Gregg and I had by that time established a rhythm and I was having a great race. I was moving up on people and began having thoughts of finishing high.
But at about mile 70 or so, the wheels really fell off. Going through Crosby-Manitou was an especially difficult challenge as the climbs through the first half of that section were relentless. I pretty much walked the first 2/3 of that entire section and starting losing a lot of time. There would be a lot more walking to follow.
Most of my difficulties came with my quads being so incredibly sore. I don't know what it was, probably the downhills that beat them up, but I've never had soreness like that in my quads before. Also, my feet were really hurting. Even now, nearly two weeks later, my toes on my right foot are a bit numb and I have a very tender spot on the outside of my left foot.
So will I do it again? The answer to that question is easy: Yes! It was an amazing experience. It was absolutely everything I thought it would be but better. The course was beautiful, the aid station volunteers were friendly and helpful and of course my crew and pacers, my friends, were perfect. I simply couldn't have done it without them.
I did discover some things. I did find out. I gave it everything I had, but at the same time, I know I have more.
There's no doubt about it, 100 miles is a long way to go on foot. Sawtooth was by far the most difficult thing I've ever done. I have this strange mixture of pride and disappointment concerning the race. I'm proud that I finished, that I ran the whole time and for the most part kept my spirits up. But I'm also disappointed that I ran slower than what I thought I was capable of.
Concerning the aspects of the race that I'm proud of; like I said, I'm very pleased that I pretty much didn't stop. I don't think I took longer than 10 minutes at any aid station. I never really stopped and pouted or felt defeated. I never once questioned myself if I would make it all the way. I was confident that I would always locate the strength I needed.
Running Sawtooth was a continuous series of peaks and valleys, especially after about mile 40 or so. It was then that things started to get tough. I'd slow down, my legs would be screaming, my feet would be screaming (whoever said you can't feel more than one pain at a time has never ran 100 miles!) But suddenly, my strength would return and I'd be running again. I never knew how long either episode would last, but my mindset was to take advantage of the good stretches and use them and not to worry about the bad stretches and just work through them. The key was always to keep moving forward.
I think priority number one for any 100 miler and especially for a person's first 100 miler is to finish. First and foremost the goal is to finish. I never lost sight of that goal.
However, it's in that priority number two that my disappointment lies, finishing time. I thought my window would be anywhere from 27 hours to 32 hours. People have said for Sawtooth you pretty much take your Voyageur time and multiply it by 3. That would've put me in that window I had set for myself. I hit the 50 mile point in about 13 hours, which was right on time, I still should've been in that window, and by mile 60 or so, I was feeling really good. Gregg and I had by that time established a rhythm and I was having a great race. I was moving up on people and began having thoughts of finishing high.
But at about mile 70 or so, the wheels really fell off. Going through Crosby-Manitou was an especially difficult challenge as the climbs through the first half of that section were relentless. I pretty much walked the first 2/3 of that entire section and starting losing a lot of time. There would be a lot more walking to follow.
Most of my difficulties came with my quads being so incredibly sore. I don't know what it was, probably the downhills that beat them up, but I've never had soreness like that in my quads before. Also, my feet were really hurting. Even now, nearly two weeks later, my toes on my right foot are a bit numb and I have a very tender spot on the outside of my left foot.
So will I do it again? The answer to that question is easy: Yes! It was an amazing experience. It was absolutely everything I thought it would be but better. The course was beautiful, the aid station volunteers were friendly and helpful and of course my crew and pacers, my friends, were perfect. I simply couldn't have done it without them.
I did discover some things. I did find out. I gave it everything I had, but at the same time, I know I have more.
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