Pacing Thunder Rock

A few months ago, I got an email from Edie Riedel, asking if I would be interested in pacing/crewing her at the Thunder Rock 100 near Chattanooga, TN.  A very interesting proposition for me b/c rarely does a "flat-lander" from LA get to run on such mountainous terrain.  I was able to juggle around my vacation time at work, and within a few days I was on board.  I would be running in the Blue Ridge Mountains in a few short months.

I didn't really follow a specific training plan for this.  All I did was maintain my long runs of 20+ miles, usually twice per weekend, and maintained a few junk miles during the week, on the road.  Despite my "fly by the seat of my pants" training plan, I was feeling exceptionally strong on my training runs, and I capped off my training with a quadruple crossing (30 miles) of the Backbone Trail, with no problems.  I was confident I could pace Edie for 50 miles with minimal issues.

We traveled to Chattanooga on a Thursday, and marveled at the mountains as we got closer to Tennessee.  When you live in a state with a max elevation of around 500 feet, mountains become awe inspiring.  We went to the race briefing and met up with the rest of the Forge Racing crew who would be manning the Quinn Springs aid station at mile 83 of the race.  Edie was also part of a 3-person team that Forge would be sponsoring, to also include Ed Melancon and Brian Novak.  At the briefing we got all the details of what to expect from the trails, and some motivational speak from a few ultra runners.  On Friday (May 16) at noon, the race would begin.  Randy Aymond was the crew/driver, and I was the crew/pacer.

The race began on a long, wooden suspension bridge, overlooking a rocky river in Ducktown, TN.  Befittingly, right before the start of Thunder Rock, we were greeted with a "thunder storm".  It only lasted a few minutes, but there could not have been more perfect timing.  The weather was unseasonably cool; about 50 degrees, and overcast.

Randy, Edie, and Me

Once the runners were off, we set out to the Thunder Rock aid station at mile 5.5 to watch our runners pass.  We saw Ed and Brian come through.  As soon as Edie came into this aid station, it began to hail.  What crazy weather we were having.  Before we would see her pass again at the Reliance aid station at mile 25, it would hail once more and rain twice.  In between storms we were battling cold winds and then hot, sunny spells.  The weather was quite unpredictable all day.  Once Edie entered Reliance,  Randy and I headed to the Servilla crew point, which was the half-way point.  We had lots of time to kill, so we had lunch in the "cultural mecca" of Ducktown, saw a few sights and then found a parking spot at Servilla and dug in for a long night.  Randy had brought along an inflatable mattress, which I tried to get some sleep on before my pacing duties began.  I could not get comfortable, and slept very little.  Before I knew it, it was 1am and Edie was entering Servilla.

After a good systems check, we were off.  The course broke me in right away.  The first 5 miles from Servilla to the Iron Gap aid station was a jeep road with over 1,000 ft of climb.  It just kept going up forever.  We maintained a steady walk/run combination, keeping Edie's desired pace.  As we were on our way up the mountain, we crossed paths with Ed, who was already on his way down.  We spoke for a minute and parted ways.  We got a little downhill running on the way to Bullet Creek, which was one of the best aid stations out there.  They had everything you could imagine, and were super-excited to help all of the runners.

Shortly after we left Bullet Creek, Edie began to complain of stomach issues.  By the time we had reached Starr Mountain, Edie was very nauseous and cold.  I had packed a thermal blanket with me, and I wrapped it around her legs, as an aid station worker wrapped her in a heavy blanket.  She was freezing and shaking uncontrollably.  Then she looked at me and told me she didn't feel she could continue.  I knew those words did not come easily from her, so I knew she had to be in agony.  It was nearly 6am, and the sun was beginning to rise.  I tried to convince her to continue to the next aid station and then re-evaluate, but the next aid station was a long 9 miles away.  She felt if she'd continued, her stomach issues would force her to walk the entire way, which in reality would have made her miss the mandatory cut-off time.  So as we sat in the cold, wet, 40 degree morning, I prepared to call it a day.  Edie told the aid station worker checking in runners that she was dropping.  Our race was over.

Then Edie surprised me, when she asked me to keep running.  I immediately refused, telling her we were a package deal, and if her race was over, my race was over.  She told me that we had come a long way to run this course, and she really wanted me to continue, so that between the two of us, we could complete the length.  I was hesitant to leave her at such a vulnerable time, but she was insistent.  So, with a heavy heart, I gave her a hug and continued running.  My intent was to, at least, make it to the Forge aid station on the other side of the Hiawassee River.  That was the 83 mile point of the race.  I wasn't sure I could go any further than that, due to my lack of sleep.

I was still pretty fresh when I started out on my own, so I was running at a much faster pace than most of the runners I encountered.  They were at mile 70.  I was at mile 20, but they didn't know that.  They must have thought I was super-human to have so much energy that late in the race.  One thing that did concern me was that I was a pacer without a runner.  There was no way for the aid station crews to account for my whereabouts, and if I got lost, the only people who would even know I was missing would be Edie and Randy.  I was certain that if I was identified as a "bandit" I would be asked to leave the course.  So I got an idea to be a pacer for any runner I caught up to who didn't have one.  When I found a solo runner, I would check their condition, give them some much needed company, and then leap frog to the next runner.  When I got close to Iron Gap again I latched onto a runner, explained my situation, and asked if I could run him into the aid station.  He had no problem with that, so I brought him in, filled his hydration pack, and took care of any other needs he had.  Once we pulled out of Iron Gap, I bid him farewell and continued on.

My trip from Iron Gap to the Hiawassee River was another 8.5 miles, but it went much quicker.  I was now running down the mountain, and for the first time since I started running at mile 50, I was actually running on trails, not jeep roads.  The trails were soft and wide, with just enough downward angle to let me fly.  I made up quite a bit of time, and at some points I had to moderate myself, so I wouldn't run out of gas later.

I reached the Hiawassee River aid station around 9:30am.  I had no runner to latch onto this time, so I would just have to see what they would say.  They, of course, asked for my number, which I explained I did not have.  They were cool with it, and treated me like any other runner, allowing me to graze off of their aid station.  I got to the river crossing which consisted of a rope and pulley system to assist the runners crossing.  A long cable extended over the river, with several ropes hanging from it.  All I had to do was grab on to a rope and walk across.  The water was waist deep and very cold.  It definitely woke me up from my fatigued state.  The water was also very clear, and I could easily see my feet as I stepped over the rock-littered riverbed.  After I made the crossing, there was another smaller river crossing, which I was not expecting.  It had a rope system too, but since it was only knee-deep, the ropes weren't necessary. 


River Crossing #1

River Crossing #2

After crossing both rivers, I reached Quinn aid station, which was manned by Jeff Beck and the Forge crew.  They had an awesome aid station, with lots of food, music, and most importantly, familiar faces.  It was a real boost to see people I knew.  Randy and Edie had also made it there, and I was happy to see she was doing better.  Edie said it was 10 miles to the McCamy aid station, which was mile 93 of the race, and the final aid station before the finish.  She said if I wanted to continue, they could pick me up there.  It didn't take much convincing at that point.  I had already told Edie before she had dropped, that there was two things I was looking forward to on this course, 1) crossing the Hiawassee River, and 2) making the climb up Oswald Dome.  I made few adjustments, grabbed my trekking poles and was off.

Oswald Dome was a 2,200 ft climb over 4 miles.  It was full of constant, climbing trails that wound around the mountain, 45 degree switch-backs, and narrow single track that in some places could send a tired runner tumbling several hundred feet, if they stepped just a few inches too far off the trail.  I quickly learned the value of my trekking poles, and I was thankful I had brought them along.  They made it much easier to navigate the constant steep climbs, and gave me extra stability on the narrow trails.  There were very few places that were flat enough to run on this portion.  It was slow going, and it took me 1 hour, 30 minutes to make the 4.3 mile climb (Elevation 3,100 ft).  It was exhausting!!!!  When I reached the Oswald Dome aid station, I was greeted by some very enthusiastic volunteers who had full body costumes, one was a rabbit, one a monkey, and one a mouse.  I, again, had to go through my explanation as to where my runner was.  Once they verified my story, they were fine with it.  One of the workers said it was a little over 5 miles to the McCamy aid station, and it was all downhill from there.  Welcomed words to my ears, so I didn't waste any time.

As I started down Oswald Dome, the trails were behind me, and I was back on jeep roads.  I didn't intend to keep using my trekking poles, but I found they were quite helpful going down the mountain, and I quickly developed a rythym that allowed me to run and use the poles at the same time.  The trek to McCamy wasn't all downhill.  There were still several climbs to be made, and I thought about how I was duped by the aid station volunteer that told me it was all downhill.  Maybe in a car, but not on foot.  It took me 1 hour, 15 minutes to cover 5.6 miles down a mountain that it took me an 1 hour, 30 minutes to climb.  I saw Randy's truck at McCamy, and jumped in.  The day was over.

Although, this race certainly didn't turn out as we had intended, I still felt a great satisfaction of being able to run the remainder of the course.  Although I was very hesitant to continue on without Edie, I was glad she convinced me otherwise.  I was able to really challenge myself, and it made me realize how far my skills as an ultra-runner had progressed.  I ended up logging 44.4 miles that day.  My energy level, body and stomach all felt good, and I felt as if I could have easily gone further.  Ed and Brian both finished the race.  Ed, in a very impressive 22:21:19, and Brian, in 27:31:20.  Both should be proud for conquering such a tough course.  According to Edie and most other runners, the most tecnical, and scenic, portions of this race were in the first 30 miles.  I would have liked to have experienced those portions too, so I guess there will be a Thunder Rock 100 in my future as well.  I will allow a few years to go by to allow them to work out a few kinks that popped up during the inaugural race, before I plan a return. 

Thanks to Edie for inviting me on this journey.  It was an honor.  Thanks to Randy for crewing, driving, navigating, and everything else.  Thanks to Jeff, and Forge, for putting together a great team and aid station.  It was a great weekend, and one I will not soon forget.

Run on friends!!!!!!!!!!

Lane 

Breaking The Backbone

As I continue to prepare myself for my pacing duties at Thunder Rock 100, I increasingly try to challenge myself with my training runs.  It is quite difficult to prepare for a race in mountainous terrain or even terrain like the Texas Hill Country when you live in Louisiana.  So my best means of preparation for terrain like this is the widely unknown trail known simply as "The Backbone". 

This trail is a little gem, hidden deep within the confines of Kisatchie National Forest, in the little North Louisiana town of Provencal.  A trail that more closely resembles Arkansas than Louisana, The Backbone is an "ankle-turners" worst nightmare.  This trail consists of 7.5 miles of tough terrain, with lots of steep ascents and decents on large, rock-covered hills, rock-covered flats, sandy flats, and more roots and uneven ground than you ever want to see on a trail.  It is a very unique trail, which resembles no other trail that I know of in Louisiana.  Even her fraternal twin sister, The Caroline Dormon Trail, is a far cry from the terrain of The Backbone.  Even though these two trails share the same trailhead, and are separated only by one highway, the differences between them are astronomical.  It is almost like The Backbone is from another planet.

 So on Friday, May 2, 2014, I set out to do a quadruple crossing of The Backbone, for a total of 30 miles.  Good prep for Thunder Rock.  However, this would be no easy task.  It is difficult enough to run one out and back out there.  I was intent on doing two.  I started at 6am, and wanted to be done by 12pm, giving myself a 6 hour window for completion.

I had not run this trail since mid-February, when we had a rare opportunity to run it while it was covered in snow, so I had no idea what the condtions would be like.  The trail was fairly clear and runnable, which was a little surprising from a trail that prides itself on minimal upkeep due to it's "wilderness trail" designation, and leans very heavily on the trail users for upkeep.  What does a "wilderness trail" designation mean?  It means that there are no mecanical devices allowed on the trail.  All cutting and clearing must be done with hand tools.  Not even mountain bikes are allowed on the trail.  I finished my first out and back leg in 2:47.  Not a bad time for 15 miles on this course.  At the end of this lap, I re-fueled on a turkey sandwich and replenished my water, in preparation for my next 15. 

I was quite surprised that my energy level was still quite strong as I entered my third crossing, and I made it to the other side one second faster than my second crossing.  As I made my way back on my final 7.5, I did begin to tire some.  The heat was now in the mid 80s, and the hills, rocks and roots all seemed a little bigger.  Even though I was a little slower, I still felt good at the end, and that is an encouraging sign that my trail running has gotten much stronger in the last few months.  When I got done, I cleaned up and found a nice shady spot to have a little post-run food and enjoy my accomplishment of crossing The Backbone 4 times in one morning; something I haven't done before.  Tough runs are tough for a reason...........They make you better.

7.5 miles per crossing
#1- 1:21:47
#2- 1:25:12
#3- 1:25:11
#4- 1:35:32                 

Total Time: 5:47:43
Total Miles: 30

 

Wild Azalea Trail Challenge 50 Mile

January 4, 2014

I have been running the Wild Azalea Trail for about 4 years now, since I discovered the joys of ultra-running.  I have run every inch of it many, many times, and I guess you could say I am the local WAT expert.  I doubt anyone has more time or miles on WAT or it's connecting trails.  A few years back I joined a few locals to do a point to point of WAT (24 miles).  It was just a fat-ass training type run, where we all met up at one end, ran a point to point, and had someone bring us back to our cars. 

Last year Brad Colwell and Spencer Martin got the idea to make it an offical, but still "bare bones", race, and the Wild Azalea Challenge was born.  Last year's race was 27 miles (2 miles on pavement, 24 on WAT, 1 on Valentine Lake Trail).  The cost, $10.  What a deal!!!!!  There was a solo category, a relay, and a mountain bike category.  It was just supposed to be a local thing with 15-20 participants.  Well, 15-20 quickly ballooned to over 50, and the race was nearly overwhelmed, as the pre-dropped aid boxes were quickly exhausted with so many unexpected runners.

For 2014, they added a 50 Mile race to the series, and upped the entry a little ($20 for the 27, $40 for the 50).  Still a pretty good deal for a race over marathon distance.  The addition of a 50 Mile race really peaked my interest, as I have been wanting to do a double crossing of WAT for a while, but never did, because of the difficulty of running 50 miles, point to point, unsupported.  There was only one problem........I was already signed up for the Cajun Coyote 100 Mile on December 7th.  A very short 27 days from the start of the WAT Challenge.  I wasn't sure if my body would be ready to take on 50 miles, so soon after running 100.  However, no one has ever accused me of being smart, so after a week and a half lay-off after Cajun Coyote, I was back on the trails, trying to get my legs back in shape.  With time in short supply, I managed to do two 20 mile runs, and a 13 miler, on trails, two weeks prior to the race.  The week before the race, I ran some "junk miles", just to keep my legs loose.  Also, while I was running those few trail runs, I was also clearing and marking portions of the race course.  This is something I enjoy doing, b/c I consider WAT to be "MY" trail, and I want people who run here to leave with a good impression, and more importantly, come back. 

The actual WAT, on paper, is 26 miles.  I say "on paper", because even though the actual trail is 24 miles, for some reason, the designated parking area for the trail that is located in Woodworth, is 2 miles from the actual trail.  I never understood why the official parking area is so far from the trail, but it is.  That is where the 27 milers would start their race (Woodworth to Valentine Lake).  For the 50 milers, we would start at Valentine Lake, run the first mile on the Valentine Lake Trail, and then run 24 miles of WAT, and back.  All trail, no road, which is what I like.  The one disadvantage of running races from two ends of the trail is that I knew at some point I would be hit with a barrage of trail runners and mountain bikers heading in the opposite direction.  WAT is mostly single track, so this would cause a small disruption to my rhythm. 

Race morning was cold.  27 degrees!!!!  We had 10 entrants in the 50 mile race.  6 from Louisiana, 2 from Texas, 1 from Alabama, and 1 from New Jersey.  Yes.......New Jersey!!!!  That is the power of the internet my friends.  There were around 90 participants in all races combined.  Being the only person in the race with any real familiarity of the trail, I volunteered to lead the pack during the first 4-5 miles of pre-dawn running, so no one would accidentally get off course.  Once daybreak came, the pack spread out, and the race was on. 

I felt surprisingly strong, especially on the first 20 or so miles.  I was running faster than I should have, as I always seem to do during a race.  I always say, I will hold back on the first half of the race, but then I get caught up in a pack of runners, and my competive spirit tells me to keep up.  So was the case here.  When I was less than a mile from turn-around point in Woodworth, I crossed up the first 3 runners, making there way back.  When I got to mile 25, in 4:26:32, my drop box was nowhere to be found.  Since the volunteer who had our drops, didn't anticipate us getting to the end so fast, he missed the first three runners, and drove to the next road crossing with our drops.  In the mean time, I was still able to fill my hydration pack, and suck down some hot chicken broth.  Also, the runner in 5th place, Elena the Jersey girl, caught up to me.  When I got to mile 27, I finally was able to get in my drop box, dump some clothes, suck down a Red Bull, and get on my way.  Elena left only a minute before me, and I was sure I'd catch her, but I never did.  She is a running machine!!!!

By about mile 30, I was really beginning to tire.  I normally refer to this feeling as a gorilla on my back.  However, this race, it was a coyote on my back; a Cajun Coyote.  My body quickly reminded me that I had run 100 miles only a few weeks ago, and it had decided that I was an idiot, and therefore needed to run much, much slower.  I did a lot of walking those last 20 miles.  I followed my usual strategy of running the flats and downhills, and walking the hills.  In many cases, walking the slightest hills.  My body was really exhausted, and I could feel a sizeable blister forming on the outside of my right, big toe.  My nutrition remained pretty good all race.  I ate a lot of V-Fuel gels, Ensure, and some fruit, snickers, etc... from the aid boxes. 

When I finally hit the connecting Valentine Lake Trail, I was pretty much running on fumes.  I knew I only had one mile to go, so I tried to run as much of it as I could.  I texted my wife, and let her know I was a mile out. 

As I approached the finish, I could hear a lot of yelling and cheering.  I could hear people chanting "Grem", "Grem", Grem"!!!!  Who could be cheering for me?  There should have been very few people even left at the finish.  When I finally got closer, I could see my wife, daughter, and a large chunk of the Mud-n-Guts (Lafayette, LA) trail running group, chanting my name.  It's funny, because this was the smallest ultra I'd ever run, but I had the most crowd support at the finish.  Normally, my finishes consist of my wife, the race director, and a few finish line hang-arounds, so it was nice to have a cheering section. 

I crossed in 10:17:03.  A little slower than I intended, but good enough.  A kid working the finish line asked if I needed anything, to which I gave my usual post-race reply.......Beer!  I got my finisher's shirt, cap, and bandana, drank my beer, ate pizza, and closed out the day.  It was a nice race, with perfect weather, and a check off my bucket list.

When it was over, all 10 of us finished the race.  First place finishing in 8:27:49, which is pretty respectable on this trail, because there are quite a lot of hills.  I finished in 5th place.  Elena Makovskaya, our "Jersey girl", finished in 3rd place, as the only female 50 miler, and logged a negative split.  This was a training run for her upcoming 100 mile race.  Ultra-running knows no gender bias, and Elena proved that by kicking the butts of most of the men, including me.  I think she impressed everyone with her performance.

Now, I know I say this every time I run an ultra, but I really intend on taking a little recovery time for myself, and I will try to keep my runs to reasonable lengths.  However, I know that it won't be long before the trails will be calling my name, and I'll be out there again.  I can't help it.  I don't know how to not run.

Crossing the finish line at the WAT Challenge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   





 

A Snapshot of Cajun Coyote 100M 2013

I wanted to do a brief blog of my 2013 Cajun Coyote 100M experience, but nothing too drawn out, so here it is in "bare bones" form.

The night before, I slept horribly.  We opted for the group cabin option, which was nice b/c we were already in the park, but not so nice b/c of the noisy mattresses.  No one in that cabin could flinch without their bed making a noise.  I don't think anyone slept good that night.

I set myself a pretty lofty goal of a 22 hour finish, and I hoped to keep my laps on a 4 hour average for as long as I could.  I got caught up in the excitement on Lap #1 and finished way too fast, 3:14:30.  This, in turn, caused me to finish my next two laps slower than I intended.  Lap #2 was 4:07:33, and Lap #3 was 4:35:05.  At the end of three laps, I was still averaging around 4 hours per lap, but I was pretty sure Laps #4 & #5 would be slower.

I also had visitors during these laps, which is rare, b/c I'm normally racing out of state.  At the end of Lap #2, my parents and my daughter, Lauren, came to visit.  At the end of Lap#3, my bud Harris and his better half came by, as well as Lauren surprising me by staying for the rest of the race.

My parents, Erica and Lauren.

Me and Harris "HH" Hatchett.

A few miles into Lap #4 I began to get nauseous.  Something I ate was not sitting well with me, and despite my best efforts, my stomach was winning the battle.  I did a lot of walking on this lap, b/c when I ran, my stomach felt even worse.  At miles 15 (75) and 19 (79) of this lap, I was on my hands and knees, puking my guts up by head light.  This lap also offered a light, foggy mist, which fell most of the lap, so in addition to being sick, I was also cold and wet.  Also, for some unforseen reason, my handheld flashlight went out, and I couldn't get it to work, so I was down to just my head light.  Finished Lap #4 in 5:44:31.  Total elapsed time was 17:41.

At Lap #5 I picked up my pacer, Billy McRae, who is a well established marathoner and iron man.  I had hoped to work him pretty hard for this lap, but my nasty stomach left me weakened and slow.  He coddled me for the first half of the lap, but as my nausea began to finally lift, he kept the foot on the gas, making sure we were running any flats or downhills, regardless of how slow my run pace was.  At around mile 90, the rain begain to fall.  It was light to moderate, and it would come and go.  Luckily, I was freezing at the end of Lap #4, so I brought my rain jacket for warmth, not anticipating that I'd need it to stay dry.  I guess the Running Gods to look out for every now and then.  With 2 miles to go, the rain was HEAVY!!!!  No sugar-coating it.  It was really coming down, and I was so glad we were near the end.  My rain jacket came in very handy then.  The hard rain did motivate me to run faster, and we finished my last lap in 6:02:18, for a finishing time of 23:44; not exactly the way I wanted to finish, but a win is a win, right?  This was my 3rd 100 Mile finish, and I did it 10 days shy of my 40th birthday.  Not a bad way to close our a decade!

As always, I want to thank my wife Erica for crewing me, Billy McCrae for pacing me, my family and friends that came to the race, all the family and friends that supported me via FB, text message, etc..., and to Forge for putting on a great race.



At the finish with Forge "Grand Master" Jeff Beck.

Me and my pacer Billy McRae.

The family.

Butterflies

It is December 5, 2014.  A little over 24 hours until I toe the line for my 3rd 100 miler at the Cajun Coyote.  Although I've run many ultras over the years, I still get butterflies in my stomach in the week prior to the race.  The preparation, the over-checking of the weather, the little things that I will need during my race in order to finish.  I check.  I double check.  ...And then I check again.  I know I have everything I will need, yet I can't help but think about that one thing that I'm missing, which never comes to mind, because I have already packed more than I need.  It's scary and exciting all at the same time.  

...And then there's race day.  There is nothing better than waking up on a cold morning, under a starry sky, when you can see a cloud of fog with every breath from the winter chill, and knowing that you will be pushing your mind and body to their limits, and beyond.  It's not for money or fame, but for a feeling of accomplishment that is known by only a few, and will never be understood by those who have never experienced it.  They watch or hear stories, and wonder "Why?"  Sometimes I wonder why myself.  But on race morning, when I line up with a group of my brothers and sisters, who I may not know personally, but with whom I will share joy, pain, suffering, and victory, I know I am home.  This is my place.  This is where I belong.

People often ask me why I run ultras, and the only response I can give them is "If you've never run an ultra, you'll never understand.  But if you ever do, you will never ask that question again."  So if you are running your first ultra this weekend.......rejoice!!!!   You may feel it is impossible at times, but when you cross that finish line, you will be part of a brotherhood that few will ever know or experience.  It is true.  It is pure. ...And it is a moment you will never forget.

My "Evo"-lution Into The "Hoka Nation"

Over the past few years of ultra-running, it had become a common sight to see some of my fellow runners wearing Hokas.  They are hard to miss with their uber-thick soles and outlandish colors.  However, the thought never crossed my mind to actually try a pair, until I started up with some foot issues last October.  I decided I wanted to try a shoe that offered more protection for my feet, especially on long training runs and ultra-length races, but still offered a 4mm drop.  Of course, Hokas were the first shoe to pop in my head. 

Hoka One One (pronounced O-nay, O-nay, I learned from watching many online reviews.) is a company  known mostly by ultra-runners.  (Don't believe me.......wear them to a local road race, and watch for the stares of those who have never seen them.)  I've seen them at every ultra race I've ever done.  They are thick, ugly and stick out like a sore thumb, but how do they ride???  I decided to find out for myself, after much debate on some key issues:  1) Sizing.  I live in Louisiana, and there is not one store in LA that sells Hokas.  The closest place to me is Dallas, which is 4 hrs away.  So, I would be guessing at the right size for me.  2)  Quality.  These shoes are hella-expensive, and if I'm going to drop a bunch of money on a new pair of shoes, I want to know I will get the most mileage out of them., 3) Weight.  They claim to look heavy, but feel light.  How true would this be?  4) Price.  Although, I hate to admit it, it is a factor.  I am a "thrifty" guy, and it pains me to lay down $150 - $170 for one pair of shoes.

I initially ordered a pair of Bondi B 2.  Again, those crazy Europeans pronounce that "Bond-I" with a long I.  This would be my primary road shoe.  Two months later I followed up with a pair of Stinson B Evos for the trails.

Bondi B 2

Stinson B Evo

First, let's talk sizing.  I had read on many reviews that Hokas are sized a little funny, and in many cases you would need to size up.  Well I quickly learned with my initial purchase of size 13 Bondi Bs, that sizing up was not necessary.  My standard 12.5 was a pretty good fit.  The toe box in the Bondis is huge.  Big enough that I would say, if anything, you might want to size down a 1/2 size.  I also got size 12.5 in the Stinson Evos.  These fit much differently from the Bondis.  The toe box is quite a bit smaller, but contrary to many complaints about a "too small" toe box, I felt mine fit fine, and they had no less room than a standard trail shoe.  They only feel small compared to the Bondis.

Next, weight.  How do Hokas compare to other running shoes?  They advertise as being light, but how light?  Well I was able to get some good weight measurements, compliments of my wife's food scale, which measures in ounces.  All of the shoes I weighed were a men's size 12.5.  Saucony Kinvara 3- 9 oz., Saucony Xodus 3.0- 15 oz., Brooks Infiniti 2- 14 oz., Brooks Cascadia 5- 16 oz., Hoka Bondi B 2- 14 oz., Hoka Sinson B Evo- 15 oz.  So as you can see, they are not as light as a minimalist shoe, but are equivalent  in weight to most standard road and trail shoes.

Now,  quality and feel.  The first time I put on the Bondis, they felt huge.  The toe box felt enormous with all the extra room.  At first, I thought even a 12.5 would be to big for me, but after putting in some miles, and my feet found their place, they felt fine.  There is a short adjustment period of a few weeks for these shoes.  They felt a little awkward at first.  The first thing I noticed was the pull on my quads from wearing a road shoe that was 5 ounces heavier than the Kinvaras I had been running in for the past 3 years.  After about 2 weeks this passed.  The protection was like no other shoe I've run in.  I felt nothing.  I even found myself going out of my way to step on rocks, cracks and sticks, that I would normally avoid in Kinvaras, just to see if I could feel them.  99% of the time I could not.  It took about 50 miles for my feet to really settle in to the "bucket seating" of the shoe.  As time went on, they felt more natural, and my run times began to return to what I was running before in my Kinvaras.  I was also concerned about losing my mid-foot strike in these shoes, due to the thickness.  Not a problem!  The 4mm drop in the shoe made it very easy to maintain, and heel striking never tried to return to my stride.  I never used the Bondis on the trails.  I made them strictly a road shoe.

The Stinsons were the same, but very different.  I was initially confused on whether these shoes sported a 4mm or 6mm drop.  I saw websites advertising both ways.  Initially, the gradient felt higher than the Bondis, but after a couple of runs, I didn't notice it anymore. There are many complaints on the web about the fit of the Stinsons. By far, the biggest was a too small toe box. As I said earlier, the toe box is smaller than the Bondis, but not excessively small. I had no difficulties running in them as a result of the toe box. I ordered size 12.5 and the fit was great. I especially like the snug, wrapped up feel of the Stinsons. Not snug in a bad way; more like a newborn baby wrapped tightly in a blanket. My feet felt very secure, and I much preferred the fit to that of the Bondis.  These shoes also come with speed laces, which are a little cumbersome to deal with, but I still prefer them to standard laces. The speed laces can be cut out and can be replaced with standard laces that are included. If I had to have one real complaint about the Stinsons, it would be the tread.  For a trail shoe, the Stinsons probably have the least aggressive lugs I have ever seen.  They are shallow and small.  They perform well on dry trail, and hard packed wet trail.  However, if you get in some sticky clay-like mud, the shoes are quickly made ineffective.  It is basically like running on slick tires.  On the plus side, because of the shallow lugs, once you get out of that type of mud, the lugs clear themselves out pretty quickly and you get some decent traction again.

Wear and durability. Hokas are expensive, so it is naturally expected that a $160 shoe would give you maximum mileage. As of this writing, I have 210 miles on my Bondis and 125 on my Stinsons. The harder tread on the toe and heel of the Bondis appears to be holding up well on the road. The much softer, "marshmallow type" tread on the midsole doesn't seem to serve much purpose. It is very soft and was quickly worn down after about 100 miles. I think the tread on these shoes will wear long before the cushion does. My goal is to get at least 1000 miles out of these. Hopefully even more than that.

Bondi tread after 100 miles.  Notice the wear on the soft mid-sole tread.

Bondi tread after 200 miles.  More wear on the soft mid-sole tread.

The Stinsons have tougher tread, and I would expect to get max mileage and little tread wear from regular trail usage. I'm hoping to also get 1000 or more miles out of these as well.

Now for a few common myths:
1) Hokas cause unusual blistering. (I have had no blistering issues.)

2) Hokas sizing runs small. (Maybe in the early days of this company.  Now I think they are true to size.)

3) Hokas encourage heel striking. (I have found it very easy to maintain my mid-foot strike.)

4). You can "bomb the hills". (This applies mostly to trails. The extra cushion and protection does allow you a certain ability to take the downhills faster. However, I don't necessarily like the term "bomb the hills". I would prefer to say that you can take downhills with a certain degree of disregard. You can definitely go faster since you don't have to worry about stepping on a crazy rock on the way down, especially on long, gradual downhills.  However, it doesn't pay to "bomb the hills" if you lose control and are eating some dirt when you get to the bottom. You still must use a certain degree of caution.)

5). The stack height increases your chances of ankle injuries. (The stack height is higher than most trail shoes, but the base is much wider, so it kind of balances out. I didn't feel like I was at any greater risk of ankle injury with either shoe.)

If I had to make any complaints about these shoes, it would be the tread.  The Bondi tread is too soft in mid-sole of the shoe.  I would like to see a tougher tread in future models.  The Stinson tread is tougher, but the lugs are certainly not aggressive enough.  The lugs need to be larger and deeper.

At the end of the day, I would say that I am happy with both pairs of Hokas. Good protection and hopefully long road and trail life. I had long runs of 16 miles in the Bondis and 20 in the Stinsons, but I'm confident either would do well on ultra distance races, and I can't wait to try.

Lost!!!

As I have posted recently, I have opted to take some much needed time off from running to do a little healing.  I have had a foot injury on my left foot since Cactus Rose in October 2012.  Like a true runner, I figured it would heal quicker if I kept my exact same routine of 20+ mile runs and high mileage weeks.  Since completing Cactus Rose, I've run a 50K and had a 40 mile pacing gig, as well as many 20+ mile long runs.  Surely, that was the remedy to cure any aches and pains.  Right???  If you've ever gone to the doctor for a running injury, their first recommendation is every runner's worst nightmare.........."Time off!".  Such unspeakable words.  They flow off my tongue like sour milk.  What do doctors know anyway?  They just have a degree in medicine.  Most are not runners.  Surely, they don't know what they are talking about.

Well, after months of my foot injury not getting better, I actually took a big step and made an appointment to see a podiatrist.  I also took an even bigger step and decided to not run a step for at least 2 1/2 weeks, leading up to my appointment.  That decision didn't come lightly, but I decided to act like a real adult and make a practical decision.

I have learned that most runners probably do not realize how much time they spend running until they stop doing it.  That is the situation I'm in now.  I don't know what to do with myself.  I still bike some, I do things around the house that I probably would have put off b/c of my running, I watch TV, etc...  But when I walk outside and see a cool, sunny day in front of me, the only thing on my mind is hitting some trails.  It is a mentally torturous situation.  Now I know this is not a big deal, but in a way it is.  When something has become such a huge part of your existence, and you stop doing it "cold turkey", it knocks you off balance.  That's where I am now...........off balance.

I know I will run again soon, and hopefully, this little hiatus I am on will let my foot heal and feel better before I even get to the doctor.  That would be the perfect scenario.  But, until that time, I will continue the life of a lost and bored non-runner.  Hopefully, I'll be back soon.

Run on friends,


Lane