Mar 20, 2013

Nepal: Solukhumbu (Everest) Region

Every year I try to find a new region where I can backpack, spending my time simply living day to day and experiencing more of this planet.  After some brainstorming Megan suggested Nepal and after a brief moment of contemplation I was off planning.  I say 'I' because I enjoy planning and Megan simply enjoys going on the trip. It works out well because there is only one chef in the kitchen so to speak.  After debating between the Annapurna Circuit and Everest Base Camp (EBC) trek we decided to go with the latter for a number of reasons including: 1) It's freaking Everest 2) There is a road being built alongside the Annapurna Circuit 3) Less crowds on EBC (even though both are considered busy during the peak season).

I usually backpack during the summer season so having to plan for a late fall campaign was different plus going to a third-world country I had no background in.  We set our dates for the 'best weather' season because who wants to go to the Everest region and see clouds all day.  After an seemingly agonizingly long 1.25 years between trips we were both eager to get the hell out of dodge.  Our 20 hour flight (+ 12 hr layover) had us landing in the darkness in Kathmandu where lights were sparse and the air warm greeted us.  Ganesh Sharma, whom a friend hooked us up with, met us at the airport at 11pm, waiting 1 hour due to our procurement of a Nepalese Visa.  The adventure started as we drove through the quite and dark streets of Kathmandu to our stop at 'Sacred Valley Inn' in the district of Thamel (i.e: tourist district).  After a lovely breakfast the next morning Ganesh helped us weave through the organized chaos of Kathmandu helping us acquire TIMS permits, bus tickets to Jiri, and some knock-off (The North Fake) clothing.  We were prepared to depart the following morning at 5am to find our bus in a huge lot of chaotic unmarked (to us at least) buses.  It was almost like playing Marco Polo to find it. We would yell out "Jiri!" and a person would point one way then we would yell again follow another direction and continue on like this until we found the bus.  As for the bus ride: wow.  Close your eyes and imagine riding in a bus from the 60's (tires and brakes too) for people who are 5'3", crammed to the brink, blaring Indian music, the ecclectic horn honking every 2.3 sec, with people vomiting in small plastic bags (then neatly tying them up and chucking them out the window) for 8 hours to cover 120 miles all on windy unkept dirt/broken asphalt roads.  It was quite the experience and I planned never to ride that again after we made our landing in Jiri that late afternoon.

As far as our trip plans we wanted an extended trek and to start from the village where hiking to the Everest region began, in the days before the construction of the landing strip in Lukla.  We started out meandering on unmarked paths ascending and descending steep paths at lower altitudes, passing through small villages through the valley littered with rice patty farms and many suspension bridges spanning rivers.  Besides a curious dog following us for the first two hours we ended up at the abode of Ang Dawa Sherpa.  Located in the village of Bhandar and situated next to a Buddhist monastery we ordered tea (mint was my favorite) and took in the views.  We were finally on the trail.
A restful night had us descending down to Kenja where the steepest climb of the entire trek met us. A 6000 ft climb in less than 5 miles to the pass of Lamjura La situated at 11,500 ft.  It was a slog and was weaving near the end needing sustenance. Fortunately after a bite to eat at a family's home we crested the prayer flag filled pass and continued into the dark and light rain to another family's home in Tragdabuk where we spent the night. After four more days of winding our way through steep valleys, gorges, and small villages we found ourselves in Lukla.  Boy, what an entirely different world.  Freshly showered tourists and their clean clothes dominated the scene. They had just come off the quick 30 min flight from Kathmandu and had porters and guides at their beckon carrying their overstuffed packs.  The journey had been quite and mellow up until this point and now it was filled with tons of lazy hikers (as I call them).  We were both quite annoyed and ready to escape the rather unpleasant and dirty village of Lukla.

This part of the trek is mostly uphill for several days and reaching altitudes greater than either of us have ever risen to.  After five days of being teased by the intermittent views of far away white peaks we were now going to be able to trek through the highest mountains in the planet.  After some lunch we continued to the village of Phakding.  The next morning we continued our trek to Namche, the so-called Sherpa 'capital', situated in this amphitheater-like setting with snow-white mountains surrounding it.  After lunch and realizing we had more daylight we continued onto the higher, less populated (preferable) Khumjung (12,402 ft).  Arriving in the misty and cold village we quickly settled into a teahouse.  We asked for a ' hot shower' which involved waiting 20 min for the water to heat up to a lukewarm temperature and when we entered the cold concrete bunker the water pressure was next to nothing.  In the 30-40 degree temps we attempted to get water all over our bodies with lots of "ooo,ooo,", "ahh,haha" sounds coming from both of us.

The next frigid morning we were treated to the wonderfully clear view of the 22,000+ ft Ama Dablam.  It was magnificent! I couldn't stop taking photos, gazing, and fully appreciating what was before me.  That was the beginning.  After a short day we arrived in the magnificent village of Thyangboche (12,687 ft) and had our first far off glimpse of Lhotse, Nuptse, and Everest.  Words can't describe the feelings that welled up in me when I saw what was before me.  I sat at a table, ordered a pot of mint tea and stared away.

After another night at 12,000+ ft. we decided it was OK for us to move up to 14,272 ft. to Dingboche.  We slowly made our way up while the giants of the Himalaya looked down.  We learned that at the far end of the village it was 'warmer' because first light hit that area of the village first.  After dinner in the dung-fueled den we went to bed and Megan took her first Diamox to offset any potential altitude effects.  It was both our first time sleeping this high, which is completely different than a quick 15 min stay followed by a descent (ie Whitney).  Megan woke up at 3:45 am complaining about a severe headache that came on suddenly and almost incapacitated her.  The only option for me to do was to get her down as quickly as possible (I assumed altitude sickness).  So we quickly got our coats on and stepped out into the sub-freezing cold and tried to descend at least 1000 ft. in the dark with dark gleaming yak eyes staring at us.  Because it was a gradual trail it took us 1.75 hrs to get down to the adequate altitude and all while our water bottles froze.  We stopped at a lonely teahouse and waited in the windy early morning for it to open, which was no particular time.  I was very worried but Megan showed signs of improvement.  After disturbing the family that operated the teahouse they were so kind as to give us tea and let us stay in their home.  Megan started to feel better and after some time we decided to slowly trek back to Dingboche.  Fortunately we made it and got Megan to rest; we were planning on staying one more night anyway to acclimatize.  That night we met two English brothers, Pete and Tony, and their Sherpa guide, Gyaljen Sherpa, who summit Everest twice.  We soon became friends and shared many laughs. 

The next day Megan was feeling better so we decided to head to Lobuche at 16,175 ft.  Well above treeline now, we trekked with expansive views in all directions on a crystal clear day.  After a climb up a steep moraine there lay an area of prayer flags and mani walls that commemorate the lives lost in the mountains.  Scott Fisher is there and if anyone has read Into Thin Air or The Climb knows who that is.  As an avid reader of these accounts it's a powerful feeling to experience it in person.

While searching for his memorial we met two Aussie girls who had been traveling for months:  Suzanna and Georgia.  They would be a great part of our journey for most of the trip.
We all arrived in Lobuche and thanks the Gyaljen's clout he was able to procure all of us rooms, which is a hard commodity in this small settlement.  A mild headache revealed itself and continued until about dinner time but Megan was doing quite well.  We all had dinner together and had tons of laughs the whole night.  We all decided to not stay any longer than 1 day in Lobuche and take a short hike straight to the final 2-3 settlements of Gorak Shep at 17,008 ft.  After the long SLOW slog we dropped off our gear, carried essentials, and headed for what we've been dreaming of since the conception of this trip: Everest Base Camp (EBC). 

For 1.5 hours we meandered our way from Gorak Shep and crossed the Khumbu Glacier and finally found ourselves in the desolate EBC at 17,400 ft.  I wasn't sure what to expect when we finally arrived there but we could immediately sense an energy, almost magical, and now understood the allure of climbing Mt. Everest.  We snapped photos, wandered around the now empty camp, sat with thoughts in our head, and took in the full magnitude of where were.  It took 20hours of flying, 8 hours of bus, plus 10 days of backpacking to get to this point.  The draw of this place was clearly very powerful and it did not disappoint.  The trip felt completely fulfilled once this place was reached.

The hike back down was exhausting and I succumbed to taking 400mg of ibuprofen in the night due to my headache and inability to sleep.  The next morning every task demanded a ton of effort; things like getting out of the sleeping bag or spooning food in my mouth.  I needed rest breaks while putting my clothes on for crying out loud.  The first order of business today was climbing up to the high point of the trip, Kala Pattar ('Black Rock') at 18,300ft, to offer unbelievable vistas of the Everest massif.  The climb up was quite difficult and I needed many rest breaks after only a few steps at times.  My breathing labored and it was very slow going.  After an 1.5 hours the prayer-flag strewn pinnacle was reached and the panoramic views of Everest and the surrounding mountains, glaciers, and valleys were simply stunning.

After our descent we bid farewell to our friends and hiked to the settlement of Dzongla, which was at the base of Cho La Pass our major obstacle the following day.  I left Megan on the hike and sped my way as fast as I could to the one teahouse there in hopes of getting a room, because I had a strong feeling that there may be 1 left and I certainly wanted to get there before those few groups ahead of us.  Hiking fast was nauseating at 15,600ft but it turned out my instincts were correct.  I had passed several groups of 2 and was able to procure the last room.  Megan arrived a bit later and we settled in.  She was not feeling well. 

The next morning she couldn't get out of bed.  Anytime she attempted to sit up she was in a very bad place and had to immediately lie down.  She had the chills, fever, and very low energy. There was no way she would be able to hike, let alone climb an 18,000 pass, so we had to stay an extra night.  Our trip at that point was dependent on us backpacking a certain amount per day and this ended the possibility of continuing to different regions and returning to Namche via a loop I was hoping to do.  As she lay in bed all day I decided to make a day hike up to Cho La Pass which turned out to be quite challenging and icy near the top.  After the day hike I returned to find that Megan was not any better.  This was a cause for serious concern because the only way out is by hiking or on the back of a horse which inquired about.  That night Megan recovered enough for her to entertain the idea of hiking down the next day.  She was able to shoulder a pack and felt OK the next morning to the relief of both of us.  We descended to Pheriche (14.000ft) and Megan instantly felt much better.  We continued our descent and stayed at Pangboche that night.  The next day we would arrive in Namche.  There was a little regret that we weren't able to see Gokyo, Renjo La Pass and the amazing views they command but it was not meant to be.  As I mentioned above, the trip felt fulfilled once EBC was reached; anything after that icing on the cake. 

We made it back to Namche the next day and low and behold ran into Suzanne and Georgia having tea in a random place! We were so happy and excited to see them so we spent the next two days hanging out with them, shopping for gifts, and hanging out.  It was election day in the USA and I kept tabs on that throughout the day, admiring the pristine clear skies and views of the surrounding mountains.  The next challenge was getting plane tickets out to Kathmandu for Friday morning (30 min flight) from Lukla so we could fly back to the states that same evening.  Since we didn't know what day we would be returning to Lukla we decided to just purchase them the day of.  Turns out that was a huge mistake because the flights were all booked for the past 3 weeks!

The Aussies left a day early to Lukla because they already had reservations and plane tickets.  We left the following day (Thursday) and hiked all the way back to Lukla hoping by some miracle we would be able to fly out the next day.  We stayed at a teahouse next to the airport strip that the one in Namche recommended and our lodge keeper basically said that it was "no problem" that we get a flight out.  The Sherpa who runs the teahouse would be able to get us tickets.  By now we're both stressed that we won't be able to fly out in time for our international flight that evening.  Things get even more hopeless when we bump into Suzanne and Georgia! The airline they had tickets for didn't feel like flying out Thursday. Or Friday. Or any other day in the near future.  They were stuck too.  After hours of stressing out and figuring out all possibilities the owner approaches us and says he has a friend with a single engine plane that could fly us out to this village in the middle of nowhere.  Then we would could hop on a bus to Kathmandu and make it in time for our flight! Woohoo!

This plane was an 8 seater and we needed 8 people to fill the plane.  As luck (maybe something else is at play too) would have it Megan, me, Suzanne, Georgia, and this group of 4 that stayed in the teahouse in Namche and were promised the same thing made 8!  We wake up the next morning and the owner says, "We must go now!" We drop what we're eating for breakfast and start running to the small airport which is littered with people anxious to leave as well.  We manage our way through 'security' and run onto the tarmac where a tiny plane awaits all of us.  We quickly load and start heading down the steep downhill runway off the edge of a 6000 ft cliff.  In all the frenzy of figuring out how to get a flight out we forgot that this is the worlds most dangerous airport and it's common for planes to not make it safely off the runway.  There already was a fatal accident 5 weeks prior.  Megan and I look at each other and start laughing hysterically.  We soon are airborne without a cloud in sight (this airport is only operational on clear days). We take in the views and soon land on a farmfield 20 minutes later.  We board a crampped bus, something I vowed never to go on in Nepal after the first experience, and take another 9 awful hours to get to Kathmandu.  It was even worse than that first bus ride 3 weeks prior.  There is only one way to fully appreciate it and that's by taking one yourself.

We arrive in the bustling and polluted Kathmandu with the plan of having dinner with the gals before taking off to the airport 2 hours later.  Turns out Georgia left her wallet at one of the bus stops on our way to Kathmandu! She fortunately had her passport and Suz was able to give her some money.  We said farewell and Megan and I had dinner one last in Nepal before heading to the airport.  The past 3 weeks felt like a lot more mainly because each day is a new experience and the perception of time somehow slows.  I will never forget my time in this country, its people, and the wonderful Himalaya mountains that we were able to backpack through.  Namasté.
(A few of the photos below but more on Nepal link in the right hand column)














  



Nov 17, 2012

Angeles Crest 100: Race Report

Fun action before the start!
I knew heading into this race that I needed to be fully prepared or I was going to get eaten alive.  I started this year with the notion that I could keep my torrid pace of training and racing without any ill effects.  It turns out I was completely wrong.  After the Boston disaster I was still feeling poorly and frankly just burnt out.  However, I assumed with a couple weeks off that my motivation would return and everything would go back to the way it was back in December through February.  Wrong again.  My fear for Angeles Crest was the main reason why I didn't take more time off and return whenever I felt like it.  Training in the Santa Monica mountains and in the San Gabriel mountains were two different things so after a couple months of driving out east and training on the course the race was upon us.  I never felt comfortable with my levels of fitness or mental focus during training due to the lack of consistency and more days off than I should have been taking.  With all that said, I was toeing the line July 21 ready to do what I could.
By: Larry Gassan near the top of Baden-Powell
I wanted to complete the first section which I considered the most difficult, terrain and altitude-wise, in around 5:20.  After hiking all the of ups and trying to take it easy I arrived at Islip in 5:05ish and was happy with where I was at.  My crew of Marshall, Megan, Sim, and Brian performed flawlessly and got me ready for the heat.
After needing to relieve myself (#2) on the climb up Mt. Williamson, where there happens to be relatively little room for privacy, the descent continues to Eagle's Roost.  I was toast after landing at Eagle's Roost; I had officially bonked.  Not entirely unexpected considering the way training had been going but man that's rough when entering a really hot section.  The 3 mile paved section, thanks to the closure of the PCT due to some frogs getting all angry at people treading on their turf, was crappy.  During that unpleasantness Hal, the race director, asked me to close his car door when I ran by it.  Odd request, but OK.
Toast at Cloudburst
     




I struggled mightily with George Gleason for company until Cloudburst where I sat down and wanted rest.  Soon after I yelled at Sim to "Never run 100 miles, ever!"  I'm pretty sure I was quite serious but I was really out of it so what do I know.  Oh yeah, and the freaking 90+ degree dry heat.  That was fun and it would accompany me a long way.  After struggling to get out of the chair I attempted to listen to some music to help with the lack in motivation.  Useless.
Making it to Three Points was miracle and I soon was in a happy place: sitting in a chair.  I actually got out of my 12 mile funk right before Three Points so as soon as I left I was jamming with The Doors and loving life again.  I need to find out what chemical in my brain allows me to want to slit my wrists one minute and then sing Kumbaya the next.  I was rolling and scaring Dan Lehnberg with my singing all the way to Mount Hilyer where I took my shortest sit down break of 2 min! I was pretty pleased with that.  I stumbled through the maze of stone to Chilao and collapsed in the chair sleepy, tired, and discouraged.  100 milers are fun!
After shoving something like potatoes in my mouth I set off with my first pacer, Sim.  Oh what disappointment he would soon experience for a guy who radiates so much positive energy.  I took advantage of that nice, newbie pacer by sitting in the middle of the trail and stating that I needed a nap.  Poor guy.  His encouragement was falling on deaf ears.  Two miserable hours later, where at one point I was shaking my fist at the sun cursing it, we made it to Shortcut Saddle where I'm sure Sim wanted to dump me.  I took my longest sitting-on-my-ass break: a high standard of 20 minutes.  I sat there gulping copious amounts of caffeine via Red Bull and watched as people passed me by the handful.  After Marshall shoved CANNED potatoes, which tasted like he pulled them out from in between someones butt cheeks, I started the smooth descent down Shortcut fireroad. Sim, bless his soul, stuck with me and I soon started to come alive.  We were clipping off miles and loving life like I just started a run!  We made it to Newcomb's Saddle in the dark (thank god no more sun) and really had such a fun time negotiating the technical trail all the way to Chantry.  It was an absolute blast and I won't ever forget those few hours with Sim.  We made it to Chantry where the thermometer read 80 degrees: it was 10pm!  And I performed, what was now a staple part of the race, the art of sitting down.  I pulled out all the excuses I could muster up to stay seated: "Wait, do you have the Body Glide from the green bag?" (there is no green bag, hehe)
"Quit your excuses!" (Dom Grossman)

Finally I got up, with my new pacer Marshall, and started the arduous climb up to Mt. Wilson toll road.  By now, in all seriousness, I started to feel a pain in my left lower shin and it only got worse.  It got to the point where I couldn't even raise or lower my foot without severe pain.  Try running on that folks.  Then my right knee, through overcompensation, started to swell up and became painful as well.  Doing anything other than rest was extremely painful and Marshall took it all in and didn't say a word about the ridiculous amounts of complaining coming from me.  After the curse-filled climb up to Sam Merrill, by yours truly, we had 10ish miles before the finish.  It was slow and painful but when we arrived on the streets of Alta Dena where Megan and the rest of the crew ran/walked with me to the finish I was satisfied.  It was nice to have completed the race even with the less than ideal preparation, relentless heat, and 50-something% finish rate.  I didn't get the 24hr finish I was hoping but I got what I deserved on that particular day.  I sat down an astounding 1hr40min through the race (compare that to Keira Henninger's 20 min TOTAL at the aid stations), my shin and knee ballooned, consumed 50+ GU gels, had two AC photos of myself published in the August/September issue of Ultrarunning Magazine (by Jamie Burtis), and I was happy as a clam to have it under my belt.  My injuries took 2 weeks to heal with heavy doses of anti-inflammatories and rest.  Poor George rolled his ankle severely and had to drop at Mt. Hilyer. The only way to repay him to for his needed company in Cooper Canyon was to extend my PT services to help the healing process of his ankle.  It was fantastic to see my training partner during many weekday excursions to the San Gabriels, Chris Price, put the hammer down and win comfortably.  He was usually taking it easy to run with me so it was great to see him perform exactly like I thought he could perform.  Anyway, I collected my buckle and now for a real rest break until after my adventure in Nepal in October/November.
By: Natalie Klintz
Chris, George, and myself before AC
by: Sim Dulai

Moments after AC captured by Larry Gassan

Aug 5, 2012

Finally, a Physical Therapist

PT Graduation
The past six years have been dedicated to accomplishing the singular goal of becoming a licensed Physical Therapist.  I'm extremely happy to announce that that goal has been met as of July 11, 2012.  The whole reason this process started was mostly due to my experience on the John Muir Trail in 2006.  Prior to that life-changing adventure I was a college drop-out.  I first attended San Diego State University for 1 year after high school before being kicked out due to abysmal grades (1.67 GPA) and poor class attendance.  I moved back up to LA after another year taking odd-jobs here and there, spending money I didn't have (credit cards), and avoiding any sense of responsibility with no care or thought of where my life would end up.  After taking a seasonal job at REI in the winter of 2004 I started to slowly plan the idea of backpacking the John Muir Trail.  I had always dreamed of backpacking for weeks on end being surrounded by the natural world and its beauty.  I had a 3 week trip planned with a friend when I was 18 but he bailed and I didn't end up going.  A fellow co-worker of mine,  Mike Hon, backpacked the PCT in 2005 and that inspired me to finally make the JMT reality.  So I went solo in July 2006 which happened to be a season with very high snow levels, nearly 200% of normal.  In the middle of that trip I met Joel and he was out there alone as well after the couple he was backpacking with broke up about one quarter of the way into the trip.  Since I had minimal experience with traveling in the high country in snow alone we ended up backpacking the final 150 miles together to the summit of Mt. Whitney.  During those 150 miles I admired Joel's independence: he was a co-creator of a small pub-quiz company which he started over the 6 figure job he was previously working at.  He wanted independence and the ability to do whatever he wanted when he wanted.  At the conclusion of the JMT I knew that was exactly what I wanted: To be able to have the freedom of time and independence to go on backpacking trips while making a decent living.  So I gave school another shot.  Starting from a GPA of 1.67 had me in a big academic hole and the only thing that was going to get me out with a shot at entering a very competitive program (PT) was to get nothing but top grades.  I enrolled at SMC to take Anatomy and Psychology (which I had failed before) but this time I had a purpose, I was focused.  I had to be.
I honestly didn't know much about Physical Therapy and while I enrolled in those classes I started to look for a job as an Aide at a physical therapy clinic.  I was hired by Don Nelson and PRO Physical Therapy, an outpatient orthopedic clinic, in October.  I started to learn what orthopedic PT was all about and I fell in love with it.  This was something I wanted to do.  After a successful first semester (2 "A's") I enrolled in Chemistry in the Winter semester which had me attending class 5 days a week for 6 hours a day. It was awful but with this renewed purpose it made it bearable.  Another "A".  After one more semester at SMC I transferred to Cal State, Northridge hoping to complete by degree in Kinesiology-Exercise Science in 2 years so I could apply to PT school in the fall of 2009.  These two years I was consistently taking 19-24 units per semester, even going as far as attending another junior college at night concurrently in order to take more classes.  All this plus working 3 days/week made any type of social life non-existent.  Even through all this I made sure I was able to continue backpacking during the summers (see side column for trips).
It was time to apply to PT school and I chose only 1: Cal State Northridge.  The reason being was because of out-of-school debt.  Private PT schools demand outrageous tuitions of near $45,000/year for three years plus living expenses which would have it amount to over $150,000 in debt when out of school.  That was simply out of the question for me.  Public school tuition was a mere $2600-$3000/semester, with FAFSA grants covering 80% of it.  I still had to take out loans but a fraction of the amount for private schools.  My gamble paid off and I got into PT school at CSUN.  The hard work was starting to pay off.
After 3 years of PT school and passing my board exams I now work at Kinetic Orthopedic Physical Therapy and my goal is to work with runners in the community.  I've already started treating some ultra-runners with some being local "So-Cal Coyotes" but I want runners to think of me first if or when they have an injury.  As an ultra-runner myself I think I have a better awareness as to the needs of the runner.  I'm going to post another entry to include more details. 
I think back on the past 6 years and wonder how fortunate I am that things worked out because of the many avenues where any of this could have fallen by the wayside.  I come away with the firm belief that the combination of hard work, focus, and true desire create opportunities  for anyone to accomplish their dreams.
I have to especially thank my mother for her support and my father for his guidance.  Without his constant encouragement and advice in my ear, the seed that lead to this fruition may have never been planted.  


    

Apr 17, 2012

Boston Marathon Race Report

Did Not Finish. I think there is more to that statement than meets the eye. In my case it meant that I started out aggressive no matter what the weather conditions (89 degrees by 12:30pm). The BAA send out multiple emails stating take it easy and to not expect a PR. I can understand those statements and it seems logical. However, I didn't travel 2000 miles to take it easy and not attempt an ambitious time I thought I could do and still think I could do. It just didn't turn out to be my day.  I prepared exactly how I would for any race and I did everything within my power to be prepared.  However several factors may have contributed to this outcome: 1) 2 tough 50 mile races within 4 weeks of each other with the last one 3 weeks ago  3) A 26 mile trail run the week before. And that's all I can really think of but clearly it was enough.  As soon as the gun went off and I started running my legs felt weak and the pace I was running didn't equate to the effort I was feeling. Things like shortness of breath, hip muscle soreness after 5 miles, and just general malaise.  Soon after 5 miles at 6:27 pace I couldn't keep pace and soon enough 8 minute miles felt difficult and unsustainable. I knew immediately that something was wrong but I figured I could run the rest of the race easy. Totally wrong. I started to walk a lot more and just didn't have anything in my legs. It felt like mile 85 in a 100 mile race. This obviously didn't make any sense to me but there was nothing I could do. I started stopping at aid stations for extended periods amounts of time and it took all I had to start up again.  Mile 19 was when the wheels started to really come off; I started feeling very faint and couldn't even walk. I sat on the curb and within 5 minutes a red cross medic came over and started inquiring about my condition. I was soon helped to the tent and my vitals were taken and the one thing that stuck out at me in my semi-conscious state was that my systolic blood pressure was 88.  For someone performing any exercise it should only increase and mine was 15 points below my resting BP.  Any significant drop in blood pressure can cause fainting and dizziness because the brain isn't getting enough blood. I was yawning a lot and that's usually one of those signs.   What came to mind immediately was salt or lack there of.  When I recall what I ate in the past week the quality of food has been exactly what I need and I had been consuming a liter of Nuun (electrolyte mix) every day on top of another liter of plain water.  However, with the symptoms I was feeling a lack of sodium or maybe low blood sugar may have been a player. These are all speculations of course but my confidence has slightly been shaken so I need to find out what the cause of this meltdown was but I don't think it's dehydration.  After I started to feel a little better I encouraged a runner (a faster one by the look of his low number) to join me. We started walking together and then I suggested we run and walk for 30 seconds each. He was OK with that but after a couple times I couldn't run anymore and started to feel more faint. I sat on the curb again. A cop came over and signaled for another medic. The second one in 1 mile. I knew my race was coming to a close. I was guided to the tent and then I lied down not really improving after 10 minutes.  That was it for me.  Several runners and myself soon loaded into a van and were driven to a bus.  I was actually feeling worse in the car and needed to lay down to increase my BP. (It was amazing to me that no medic had any salt on them.) Anyway I lied down in the bus with my feet up. After 15 minutes I started to feel better and most runners we're anxious to pick up there bags so they were hobbling over to the train station. We boarded a unbelievably crammed train and two minutes in I couldn't stand up any longer because I thought I was going to pass out.  I dropped to the ground, exited at the next stop and lay down in the dirt with my feet up relieved to be out of that train. Turns out two other runners exited and started vomiting profusely. We all were laying around and boarded the next train, which, thankfully, was less crowded. Me and this Italian runner sat on the steps in the back corner and put our head in our hands and hoped we didn't experience symptoms. Turns out he speaks French so that's how we communicated.  The train ride was terribly long, hot and soon to be crowded but we finally made it to our exit. After picking up my bag, I got my ass to my flight which I was then worried I wouldn't make, but I did.  With this type of experience there are lessons one can take away:


1) Don't get greedy. I thought that a marathon wouldn't be a problem after 2 tough 50's. Clearly wrong.


2) More space between races. 3 races in 7 wks where I ask for my best effort is too demanding. I need to respect that and give my body and mind more time.


3) Giving it my all regardless of the conditions and outcome was the right thing to do. I'm not going to play it safe and give up on my goal.  That's the one real positive I'm taking away from this.


4) I will never travel by plane to run a road marathon. Never is a strong word but I'll just stick to the local scene with regards to road races.


I want to also congratulate everyone I knew running who toughed it out and finished the race: Ankur, Natalie, Mike, Rit, Su-Yang, Dan, and Crispin.


As far as the next race is concerned it will be Angeles Crest 100, my main event.  I was originally planning on Bishop 50 next month but after this I'd rather train only to make sure I'm fully prepared for that race. I'll give my whole system time to rest in these next two weeks and start to ramp up again.

Mar 28, 2012

Old Goats 50 Race Recap

I remember seeing the listing for this race last year and wanting to one day run it due to the sheer challenge of it.  I was close to signing up for it but I realized I was nowhere near ready to tackle a race of that magnitude; 12,000 feet of vertical climbing to be exact (and 12,000 feet descent).  Fast forward one year later and there I was waiting the last few minutes with a crowd of other shivering runners ready to take on 12,000 ft. of climbing over 50 miles on technical trail.  I didn't have a chance to give this race much thought throughout the last couple of weeks due to being pre-occupied with my internship and realizing that I had absolutely no knowledge of the course.  So I'd been going about my training without really slowing down after Ray Miller 4 weeks previous and not giving this race much thought.  I had been more nervous and anxious before Ray Miller probably because I had put a couple of solid months of training without the confidence of whether or not it was going to pay off.  There were some of the best SoCal ultra runners toeing the line too and seeing where I was compared to them was going to be exciting.

Miles 0-21:
I had a cut out of the elevation profile with aid station points that guided me on this exploration of local mountains.  The first 21 miles was a lollipop loop that proved to be as rocky and technical a course I've run.  I was feeling pretty good from the get-go and just rolled with it.  I didn't hold back or push it and tried to be in flow with the single track and not fall.  It was actually kind of pleasant to start downhill just because it gave myself enough to warm up for the hills.  I was running alone from the get-go and that's the way it would be until the end.  I arrived at the 21 mile aid station in a relatively comfortable 3:12 and in good shape, got a kiss from my sweetie, and was off.  I was a bit nervous going into the next section because at Ray Miller this is where I started to feel like crap and I guessed it might have been a nutrition thing.  So in this race I adjusted my calories/salt accordingly and was hoping that would help me stay in a neutral place.
Early downhill.  Photo: Pedro Martinez











My babe at 21 miles. She literally just woke from a nap in her car. Photo: Jayme Burtis

Miles 21-28.8:
I soon caught Kurt Whittington, who was in 6th on the subsequent climb to the Trabuco Trail Aid Station, and we would soon be passing each other back and forth until mile 34.  The 5 mile rocky and technical descent down Horsethief Trail is where I experienced my first lowish point of the day even though it wasn't as deeply felt in previous races.  Fellow Coyotes Chris Hays and Pedro Martinez coincidentally were also running down as well which made for a short distraction.  I was trying to manage the very rocky descent with as little effort as possible to save myself for the next climb.  So I was running 8-8:10 miles and in hindsight I need to learn how to run downhill a lot better, because times like that aren't going to help.  Consequently, a much better downhill runner and Ironhorse (as I refer to him), Tom Nielson, who finished 14 seconds ahead of me at Ray Miller 50, passed me near the bottom of the descent.   I was secretly hoping that I could reverse the tables on him in this race.  After some hikers saw me unknowingly expose them to my privates while I was taking a brief leak I smiled and continued on.  I still wasn't feeling all that great and all I could think about was the 4000ft up Santiago Peak coming up: the crux of the race.
Photo: Jayme Burtis
Miles 28.8-36.70:
I started Holy Jim a bit slow shuffling my way through the multiple stream crossings and what seemed like tons of hikers.  I was soon able to see the multitude of antennas thousands of feet above and I guessed that was where I was headed.  After that harsh reality, I told myself to not look up anymore.  I established a run/hike strategy that allowed me to climb the ascent at 15-16 min/mile for the next 8 miles.  Boy, what a place to put a climb like that in a 50 mile race.  After seeing the top 6 men ahead of me barreling down the peak I finally made it myself bringing sweet relief with the only thoughts of not getting caught the final 15.  I then allowed myself to finally open up my stride and bust it downhill.
The look of exertion at the top of Santiago Peak. Photo: Mieko Morita
Miles 36.7-47.1:
The seemingly quick descent gave way to rolling hills with continued stiff sections of climbing.  I employed my run/hike strategy and really just plugged along keeping my eye behind me just in case someone wanted to make a run at me.  I also brought my average per mile time down to where I wanted it to be so I just maintained and kept pushing along.  The final climb of the race approached and at the top was the last aid station.  It was wonderful to see and I could smell the sweet, slightly tangy, flavor of the finish.

Miles 47.1-50:
As soon as I started the descent I started running harder than I did all race.  I wanted to get to that finish and I knew there was no pressure from behind either so it gave me a chance to reflect on the race a bit and appreciate what Steve Harvey put me through.  I finished the race strong and let out a whoop when I was in sight of the finish.  I crossed the line in 8:31 placing 7th overall.   What a joy it is to experience a journey such as this all while achieving goals and coming away healthy.  Again, Tommy Nielson was one place ahead of me. Grrr.  I'll see if I can turn the tables on him at AC100.  Huge congrats to Chris Price for running like a stud and establishing a new course record, Dom for running a course PR just coming off a calf strain, and to Keira Henninger for being the 1st female to cross the wire.
A few yards from the finish. You may not tell but I'm soaking it in.
Afterthoughts:
I knew this race was going to be tough and it was the hardest I've run so far.  I was unsure how my body would react going into this race 4 weeks after a hard Ray Miller 50 but now I know.  I felt good from the beginning and I adjusted some race day strategies which I learned from the last race and subsequent training runs.  And I can say with complete certitude that it made a huge difference in how I felt throughout the entire race.  Things like tailoring my salt intake to meet my needs; if anyone's ever seen my face following a long or hot run I excrete an unusually high amount of salt.  With that adjustment I didn't experience the aches in my joints to the degree I normally do, was able to run some of the the final ascents, and overall had no significant highs and lows.  To my surprise music didn't really do much for me so I turned it off and just ran in the moment.  After two of my best 50 mile races in a span of a month I'm ready for a temporary change in venue.  The Boston Marathon is 3 weeks away and I'm excited to tackle the one road marathon I run per year.  I return to trail races in May and my training continues up the hills of the Santa Monica mountains on the weekdays while the weekends will be in San Gabes.
Overall, my performance has improved quite a bit since I started training in December and I'm excited to see what that means in 100 mile races.  I'm fully aware of what consistent training can do to performance and I'm excited to see it paying off early.  I have to continue to eat well, train right, listen to my body, and enjoy the process.  I feel I'm just starting to get my running engine established and I feel there is still a lot more to give in the coming years and only smart and hard training is going to expose that.  That's why my intuition is telling me to run Bishop in late May and use the next 2 months to solidly train for an all-out effort for AC, where I am happy to announce Sim will crew/pace me!  San Diego 100 is 70/30 a no-go, but I'll hold out until the last minute.
On another note, Sunday I picked up the stomach flu with Monday being absolutely awful for me.  Fortunately it only lasted 24 hours and it didn't really effect my training, even though I still can't run downhill <8 min/mile without getting some unwanted bowel movements from my GI system (sorry Westridge).
The New Balance MT110 performed flawlessly and I'm really impressed that they supported me through terrain like this and with no injuries to speak of.  Not to say it's 100% the shoes but minimalism is something I believe in and works (see above).
I also want to give a shout to Jayme Burtis for these great memories using his camera.
Happy Trails!


Mar 3, 2012

Ray Miller 50: Race Recap

Away we go...
The trail was starting to come alive with the creeping morning light and the pack started to move. Some starting their 31 mile journey or their 50 mile one.  Mine was the latter.  Being familiar with this trail it bottlenecks quite early so being near the front was my priority.  It would require a more aggressive race strategy, something I've been reluctant to employ mainly out of a fear of blowing up later.  However, today was different.  I wanted to run to my current potential and I believed a strategy of controlled aggression would be necessary.  The morning was overcast creating perfect running weather but that would soon give way to a strong winter sun that made things a bit toasty later in the race.



Miles 0-19:
A came out with controlled aggression and was feeling good.  I was throwing in some faster miles early for this type of race but I didn't care.  I was nearing the end of Wood Canyon Trail (Backbone Trail) and I got an unexpected surprise in coincidentally running into Megan, who was biking along the Sycamore Canyon Fireroad with the intention of meeting me at the Danielson Ranch aid station (mile 19).  We chatted for .3 miles before I branched off the Two Rabbits Trail.  After the brushy Coyote Trail it was fairly uneventful up to Danielson Ranch.  I was averaging 8:45 miles and was really focused on the upcoming climb to Sandstone Peak.  After getting a bunch of cheers from all the Coyotes and Megan and that aid station, I picked up an extra bottle and was on my way.

Mile 19 aid station manned by Superman (aka Jack Rosenfeld)






                                       Mile 19-28.5:  
As soon as I left Danielson Ranch I started to hit my first low point.  A bit odd so early in the race but after an aggressive outing it was expected.  About 3-4 minutes up the Chamberlain Trail I hear a coyote howl from Jimmy Dean Freeman letting me know he was not far behind, which made me try to push a bit harder.  The climb up Chamberlain was warm now and I forgot to ask for my ipod at the last aid station so I was counting to 10 repeatedly and I must of done that 100 times.  Pretty mundane but it got me into a rhythm and I was very happy to see the Yerba Buena aid station.  I saw Katie Martini Freeman there and soon asked her for a hat.  She came through with a turquoise women's visor but as soon as I put it on it provided immediate relief from the unrelenting sun.

Mile 28.5-34.5:
This out and back section was where I started to see some of the race leaders: Jorge Maravilla, Jorge Pacheco, Chris Price, Dom Grossman, Mark Hartell.  I reached the turn around point and saw Sim and Natalie manning the aid station.  After my hug from Sim I headed back to Yerba Buena and saw who was behind me.  A whole army of people within 5-10 minutes of me including Jimmy and Meghan Aborgast.  I tried to maintain my pace and reached the Yerba Buena aid station needing respite from the sun.  I got my gels and water and headed out.  About 1 min into the climb roars for Jimmy could be heard and I knew he was right on my tail.

Coming to the turnaround point. Glad to be here!


Mile 34.5-45:
This climb to sandstone and subsequent technical descent was welcome even though the next aid was 11 miles away.  I took the downhills OK considering the mileage and situation I was in and soon made my way to the beautiful Serrano Canyon where nausea spoiled my full appreciation of this place:  Rolling grasslands on a clear blue day.  Arriving at the last aid station I was prepared to make the final push up Fireline Trail and thoroughly enjoy the descent and final 3 miles of Ray Miller.  I ran most of the way up Fireline after a runner asked me if I had enough salt. Of course I did, I thought to myself.  However it dawned on me that I tend to sweat more salt and that maybe 1 pill per hour was not enough in this weather over this distance.  I took two pills and immediately could sense a difference.  My nausea had abated and I could run the uphills again!

Final half mile!


Mile 45-finish: 
To my surprise I ran most of the way up Fireline and was soon shuffling on the Fireroad arriving at the apex of the famed Ray Miller. I knew that the race was cake from here and I had the intention of fully cranking my legs on this descent with the hopes of catching some people.  I enjoyed the views but was mainly focused on getting down to the finish.  I passed one runner and was 14 seconds away from catching the next but the finish line came quicker.  I arrived in a personal best of 8:19, 8th OA, in full appreciation of the challenge of this course.  There were personal ups and downs that never seemed to veer too far in each direction and taking in more salt is something I need to start practicing.  Even though this is taboo, I tried something new on race day: Take gels every 20 minutes. Well that didn't work because I felt bloated and full for the majority of the race and frankly gels are disgusting.   So I'll stick to consuming them every 30 min.

I knew if I had a good day and I did what I thought I could do I'd run 8:20.  It was my A-goal and an ambitious one at that considering my last (2nd) 50 miler was half the elevation gain in 9:25 on fireroads.   I laid everything I had out there that day on the course and I was happy I was able to achieve it.  It felt and still feels good.  But it didn't come magically, just hard work on a consistent basis.  I'll be the first to tell you that I don't have the talent the top dogs have but I'll work my ass off to see what I'm made of.  This is a step in the right direction and hopefully there's more where that came from.  I want to thank RD Keira Henninger for putting on a great event, the volunteers, and Megan for making this happen.

Finish. Pose of satisfaction. PR too.

Post-race love with JDF.  Had a mini battle the entire way with him pulling away by 10 min in the final 8 miles.  Great run Jimmy!
Cresting Fireline with Sandstone in the background. Photo: Jayme Burtis

Coyote Power!

Next up is Old Goats 50 in about one month and it's something I'm not 100% sure about.  I mentioned in my last post that running high effort races takes a lot of someone and I can say with a fact that this was one of them for me.  Will I expect a solid of an effort at Old Goats? I hope so but I think it's going to be a different goal: to gain more 50 mile experience under my legs with tons of climbing (13,000 ft in this case).

Feb 18, 2012

Get Rhythm: Ray Miller 50 Mile Preview

I guess the majority of the work for this race is complete so now I'm here typing, itching to get out and race this thing already.  Usually come taper week I can relax and enjoy the lead up to the race.  But something has changed.  I used to solely run to race and stay in "backpacking" shape but late last year I re-thought my goals and I wanted not only to race events but race them as well as I can; be the best prepared I can given a balanced life and normal life circumstances.  In order to do well, consistent training had to increase substantially with racing taking a back seat.  The two weeks pre and post race day have suddenly apparently turned into a feeling of wasted time, even though my better judgement says this is the proper way to be approaching this event.  My last race was back in mid-November, so it's been a while (15 weeks), and I have to say running hasn't really stopped since then.  The past 9 weeks have been as solid of training weeks I can muster  (Average: 80.52 miles/week, 17,444ft vert gain/week), with consistent long runs, track work, easier weeks, etc, creating a unique and fulfilling rhythm; waking up before sunrise every weekday morning for a quiet trail run, thinking of what the next long run will be, seeing improvement.  This weekend things slow down a bit:  the long runs aren't as long, the mentality has changed, and everything is focused on getting things right for next Saturday.  In the past year (the first year I started training), I've usually welcomed this change with relief and open arms, but as I sit here and type this out, I have an itch.  An itch to continue this rhythm, to continue improving, and I've realized that racing less and having A-races are the only ones worth having.  
It takes, relatively, a substantial amount of time and money to race, and in order to see improvements I needed a heavy dose of training and few races in between.  It depends on ones goals, but the intensity of races requires high effort levels, ones not usually achieved during training.  Producing those quality efforts at each race, without burning out or getting injured, takes time in order to recover and train.  I think last year I was more engaged with the destination and not the journey that lead me there because of a strong desire to say that I was able to complete that distance (no matter the effort quality), or get that buckle.  This year has changed a bit.  I'm over that first-time excitement and now looking to see what this training will produce.  I'm nervous and curious.  It's time to trust in the work I've done so far and just run.  There is a deep satisfaction in toeing the starting line of a race you've prepared as best you can for and will soon be laying it all out for.  No "training" races, no running just to finish, no-half-assing it, no excuses.






Morning run sunrise