"Charging On" - How I Took My Garmin To The Edge, And Beyond

Ahhhh.........The GPS reciever.  Whether you like Garmin, Soleus, Nike, Polar, Suunto, or Timex, if you dig into a runner's sacred "running drawer", 9 out of 10 times, you will find one of these devices.  I still hear talk of running "purists" who don't use GPS, and instead, opt for a plain stopwatch or nothing at all, but that is not me.  I will be the first to admit that I am a "tech junkie".  My weapon of choice is the Garmin 310XT, and I love it.  In fact, I would say it is one of my most valueable pieces of running equpment, ranking a very close second to only my shoes.  I remember my first GPS device.  It was some triangular, European piece of crap, that you wore on your bicep and basically only kept track of your distance and time.  Looking back now, it was the equivilant of living in the stone age, as far as GPS receivers go.  After a little time, I graduated to the Garmin 305, which I loved, and after I laid my 305 out to pasture, I upgraded to the 310XT.  Why do I like my GPS so much?  I think it is two things:  First, I enjoy the freedom it gives you when you run.  Gone are the days of scouting out routes with the car odometer and marking mileage with mailboxes, unusually shaped trees and houses.  With my Garmin in hand (or on wrist), all I have to do is head out the door and run.  No need for a specific route or any pre-planning of that route.  Secondly, I love the real time information.  I am not one of those runners who has just one huge screen going, and then get the other info when I'm done.  I have all four of my split screens running simultaneously.  Time, Distance, Pace and the ever important Average Pace, which in my opinion is the most crucial informational screen I use.  And of course, I have my other screens that I flip to to get info on my current lap, elevation, etc....  I am so hooked on my Garmin that I think that if I had to choose between it and my shorts, I'd probably go with the Garmin. 

Now comes the problem at hand..........battery life.  The Garmin 310XT has a battery life around 18 hours.  Maybe 20 if it's brand new.  When you are running distances from 5Ks to marathons, and even 50 milers or 100Ks, this is usually enough power to survive the entirety of the race.  However, unless your name is Scott Jurek, Tony Krupicka or Hal Koerner, chances are you will not have enough battery life to finish a 100 mile race or more.  And as they say, "There lies the rub."  So, like many other runners, I experimented with different techniques to save power and extend battery life, such as turning off the back light and all the bells and whistles.  Anything to save a little power for later.  Now these measures are small and in the grand scheme of things, probably don't give you that much more battery life, but at least it makes you feel like you are contributing to the cause.  In fact, the most I had ever gotten out of my 310XT was at the 2011 Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler, where I managed to get 18 hrs and 80 miles in a single charge.  That being said, for the last 2 hrs or so, I could not get any information on my screens, only a low battery message; but the information was being stored.  I ended up finishing my final lap there with a 305 I had borrowed from a friend.  In fact, for my 4th 20 mile lap, I wore both my 310XT and my friend's 305.  One on each arm, because I didn't want to lose touch with my pace and mileage.  It was a crude and elementary way to log 100  miles, but it worked.  So, all that being said, the question now on the table is, "How to squeeze more juice out of your battery?"

If you've ever seen the Robin Williams movie, Dead Poet's Society, you will remember the scene where he makes the students stand on his desk in the classroom and tells them, "Just when you think you know something, you must look at it from another angle."  (On a side note, I bet you've never seen Robin Williams referenced in a running blog.  HA!!!!)  Well, that is what I had to do when searching for a way to get more battery life out of my Garmin.  And what I learned when I stood on that proverbial desk is that it is not about squeezing more juice out of your battery.  It is about putting more juice into your battery.  How did I come to this conclusion???  I saw a post on Facebook one day of someone talking about a mobile USB charger for charging their phone when they went camping.  With that information in hand, I had the little light bulb pop up on top of my head.  If you can use a mobile USB charger to charge your cell phone, then why not use it to charge your Garmin?  The idea didn't have to sit long before I went to Amazon.com and found the Trent Heavy Duty External Battery Pack (http://www.amazon.com/New-Trent-IMP60D-Thunderbolt-Blackberry/dp/B003690Q42/ref=pd_cp_e_0 ).  It sold for $39.95, which was a small price to pay if this idea were to work.

When it arrived, I charged it up and took it out for a test run.  To my surprise,  it worked very well.  I rigged it up to my gear (pictures further down the blog.) and charged my Garmin on the run.  The only downside is that while you are charging, you cannot view the information on your screen.  All you get is the percentage charged and the time of day.  It seems to take minimal power to charge the Garmin, so I would expect that you could get around 8 charges out of one fully charged battery pack.  Now that I had even more technology to pack on runs, it was time for the ultimate test.  I was running Cactus Rose 100 on October 27, 2012 and I wanted to attempt to charge on the run and keep my Garmin going for the entire race; something I had never been able to do before.

Battery pack with Garmin charger attached.

When race day came, I had my battery pack fully charged and I placed it in my drop box at the 45 mile point.  I was pretty sure I wouldn't need it until 50 miles or beyond, but because of the rugged terrain of Cactus Rose, I dropped it early to be safe.  When I got to mile 45, I had enough battery life to get to the 50 mile point, so I just packed it with me to the start/finish area.  When I crossed the 50 mile point in 12 hrs, 5 mins I still had 38% battery remaining, but I went ahead and got ready to charge.  I put the battery pack in a ziploc bag and placed it in my camel back.  I then ran the charging cord through my shirt and out of my sleeve and connected it to my watch.  The most important part to this set-up was the cheapest.  I used two wrist bands to hold the cord in place, so I wouldn't accidently bump it and disconnect it while charging.  I was all set and charging as I set out for my third lap.  The plan worked flawlessly and I was re-charged to 100% battery life in about 1 hr 45 mins.  After I was charged, I continued to run with the battery pack in my camel back, just in case I would need to top it off again.  I'm glad I did because my second half of this race was considerably slower than the first and although I probably could have made it the whole second half without another re-charge, I opted

to charge up again around mile 85, just to be safe.

Charging set-up.  Wrist bands hold everything firmly in place. 
Not yet connected to Garmin.

Charging mode.

This is all you will see on your screen while charging on the
run.  If you remove the charger from the watch to check your
current status, the pack automatically shuts off, so be prepared
to turn it back on again.

When you initially begin charging, the pack tells you the level
of charge in the pack itself.  Either "Full", "High", "Med" or "Low".
When you are actually charging your device, the "Use" light will
be on.  This way you know you have a good connection and are
charging.

After about 10 seconds, the battery level will disapppear and
only the "Use" light will be on.  As long as that is on, you are
charging.

According to my Garmin, each 25 mile lap was actually 25.4 miles, so I knew I would have the opportunity to take it beyond 99.9 miles.  And that was the big question for me.  What would happen after 99.9 miles?  Would it flip back to 0.00?  Would it have a Y2K style meltdown?  I  just didn't know, and I didn't know anyone else who knew either.  So when the moment of truth came and I hit that magic number of 99.9, I watched with anticipation as my Garmin ticked closer to 100.  99.98, 99.99, and then the moment of truth.  My watch crossed the 100 mile barrier and kept on counting.  The mileage read 100 and counting.  I was happy.  My experiment was a success.  When I crossed the finish line, according to my Garmin, I had logged 101.7 miles and 29 hrs, 32 mins of constant run time.  The cool part is, the watch could have gone many hundreds of miles more, even though I couldn't. 

My Garmin post-race.

So now I have a winning formula for any future 100 mile races, and I will continue my "charging on the run" strategy. Never again will I worry about when my battery will die during a race. Now all I have to do is hook up and charge on.



 

Cactus Rose 100 Mile

             The Toughest Show On Dirt

I signed up for this year's Cactus Rose 100 with one goal in mind;  To finish.  I am not the type of ultra-runner who likes to sign up for as many races as possible.  I believe in quality over quantity.  I pick a specific race, train like hell for it and expect the most favorable results.  So when I entered into this race, there was never an option of "If I'm not having a good day, I can drop to the 50."  That thought, although constantly lingering over me, was not allowed to enter my mind.  A "DNF" was not in the game plan, and I had to succeed. 

In my opinion, there are three components that are key to running a successful ultra;  #1-Mental Toughness, #2- Iron Stomach, and #3 Strong Legs and Feet.  These three things all fit together to form a successful race.  In most cases, if one fails, the other two components are weakened and eventually can fail as well, leading to a poor performance or in the worst of cases a "DNF".  So in light of that, I knew I had to have all three of these areas sharp as a tack in order to successfully navigate this course.  The odds were stacked against me from day one because, unlike many others in my running circle, I had never been to the Texas Hill Country.  Not for the Cactus Rose 50 or for any of the Bandera races.  I was a "Hill Country Virgin", if you will.  I had heard all of the horror stories from friends of mine who have run either of those courses before; the rocks, the heat, the climbs, the downhills, the sotol, and the agony that all of them put together inflict on your body.  This was no race to be taken lightly.  On top of all of that, I was coming off of two mediocre performances in ultras earlier in the year.  I ran the Mississippi 50 Mile, and both my mind and stomach went haywire, and my legs soon followed, in what was easily the wettest, nastiest and muddiest race I have ever run.  A similar thing happened a few months later at the Big Butts 50K, only this time it was the extreme July, Mississippi heat that did me in.  Which brings me back to my previous statement of having all three components working in lockstep to ensure success.  In my two previous races, one component fell by the wayside, and was quickly followed by the rest.  Although I finished both of these races, they were less than stellar performances.

I began my official training plan for Cactus Rose on April 30, 2012.  I had six months to get into top shape.  All I had to do was survive running through the Louisiana summer.  If you've never run in LA in the summertime, just go to your local gym, get in the sauna and run in place for several hours.  100 degree heat, coupled with 100% humidity, made for some really brutal training.  By the end of July, after completing the Big Butts 50K, I was mentally and physically whipped.  I was very discouraged with my training runs, and the intense heat was really taking it's toll on me.  I remember telling my wife how unenthusiastic I was to even run Cactus Rose because of the difficult time I was having with my training.  Then came the shoe incident...........

I have been running in 4mm drop shoes for a while, on the road and trails.  I used to run in Brooks Cascadias before making the switch.  I ran in Saucony Peregrine 2s and Kinvara TRs during the summer, but the hot, wet conditions of LA broke down these shoes very quickly and I was tearing them up quickly;  sometimes after just a little over 100 miles. 

A doomed pair of Peregrine 2s, after only 250 miles.

I needed a more rugged shoe, with a 4mm drop and a rock plate to withstand the punishment of Cactus Rose.  I searched, and asked questions to different people, and tried on numerous pairs of trail shoes at run stores, but nothing seemed to suit me.  Finally, I thought I had a winner with the Altra Lone Peaks.  But after ordering two different pairs, I just couldn't get them to work for me.  They also helped me to determine that I had a small bunion under the ball of my left, little toe.  They seemed to put just the right kind of pressure on it, to make my foot hurt.  So back they went.  Finally, I relented and went back to the Cascadias.  BIG MISTAKE!!!  Just as you have to transition from a higher heel shoe to a 4mm shoe, you also have to transition back.  This was a transition that my feet could not seem to make and I began to have severe arch, calf and knee pain on one leg.  It was bad enough to get me to see a podiatrist.  I was at my wit's end.  Cactus rose was only 2 months away and I couldn't even find a decent pair of shoes, much less run the course.  After months of searching, I got a post on FB from a guy named John Vaupel who is with "Trail Running Club".  He suggested the Saucony Xodus 3.0.  They had a 4mm drop, a thicker outsole and a rock plate.  I got a pair, and my pains immediately went away.  With a pair of shoes that agreed with me and the oncoming cooler temps, things began to fall into place.  My runs got stronger and faster, and my confidence began to build.  I finally felt like I was getting my mojo back.

As race day approached, I began watching the weather map closely.  Initially, it looked like the temps would be a little warmer than usual for this race, but as the days wound down, the temps kept getting cooler.  By race day we were looking at a low of 39 and high 65;  perfect running weather.

We arrived at The Lodge on Friday afternoon, set up our tent, and attended the race briefing.  The reality had officially set in that I was going to do this race, and I was beginning to get a little nervous.  Joe Prusaitis and Henry Hobbs, the race coordinators talked about the tough terrain, and how the course was natsier than ever, with more erosion than ever before and extra-tall sotol plants that now could not only cut up your legs, but your face as well.  After the briefing, Erica, my wife and crew, fixed me some spaghetti and it was off to bed.  I didn't expect to sleep much due to pre-race jitters, but Erica's one condition to us camping was that we buy an air mattress.  Thanks to that very mattress, I slept like a baby that night.

Erica at our Texas ranch house.

Race morning seemed to come quickly, and I awoke before my alarm clock went off, to the shuffling of other runners getting themselves together for the day's event.  I got myself together, ate a quick breakfast, and before I knew it, it was 10 minutes to race time.  I could hear the sounds of Joe yelling "10 minutes", then "5 minutes", then "2 minutes".  Shit began to get real, awfully quick.  Next thing you know, it was 5 a.m., and we were off.  Also in attendance were Edie Reidel, Brad Delcambre and Bobbi Parker, all from Lafatyette, LA.  They were all doing the 50.  I was the only one in our group dumb enough to go for 100.  I didn't know how it would turn out.  I had Erica to crew and cook for me during the race, and Dave Silvestro as my pacer for my final 25 miles.  I started out with 2 pacers but my other pacer, Antonio Alvarado, injured his back the week before the race.  That meant the first 75 were on me.  As if I needed my race to be any tougher.


Lap #1

This lap was all about feeling out the course.  Since I had never run this course, I really wanted to pay attention to every section, so I could sort of judge what kind of race I would have.  As always, in a race that is mostly single track, everyone was bunched up for the first few miles until we hit Lucky Peak, the first climb of the day.  It was rocky and steep, but I managed.  Up and over and on the next  big climb of Ice Cream Hill.  It was a little steeper and higher, but I handled it fine.  By this time, the crowd had thinned, and I was already running by myself.  I knew this would be a lonely course, but I didn't think this soon.  Then at mile 19 came Sky Island.  When I approached it, I was in awe.  It was what seemed like a near vertical climb on a very rocky surface.  The runners on top looked like ants, as I'm sure I looked to them down at the bottom.  This was my first real taste of Cactus Rose.  After Sky Island came Boyles Bump and Cairn's Climb.  All hills of great elevation and tough climbing.  The crazy thing was that I had to climb all of them 4 times during this race.  I would be in for a long day.  I completed my first lap a little sooner than expected, in 5 hrs 28 min.  I survived my first test at Cactus Rose and still felt really good.  I even thought for a brief moment, "This isn't so bad.  I got this."  HA!!!!!  What a naive idiot I am.

Lap #2   

I was still full of "piss and vinegar" at the start of this lap.  I had all the food I needed in my drop boxes, and Erica was keeping me energized with hot quesadillas and chicken noodle soup.  Things were going pretty well for me.  Another lap, only in reverse this time.  The big hills came in the first 13 miles, followed by what seemed like a much easier 12 at the end of this lap.  I was still feeling great, my nutrition was good and I was running well.  I finished my second lap in 6 hrs, 35 mins, giving me a 50 mile time of a little over 12 hours.  I was pleasantly surprised with my time, and again, thought to myself that this course was not living up to all the hype.  Remember that "naive idiot" comment earlier????

Lap #3

I've run enough of these races to know that my 3rd lap would be considerably slower.  I told Erica it would probably be a 7+ hour lap.  My pacer Dave made to the start and I told him to be ready to go around midnight.  Going clockwise again this time, I was able to capitalize a little on flatter, first 10 miles of the lap.  I wanted to cover as much ground as possible before dark.  I was also trying something new by charging my Garmin 310 XT with a portable charger as I ran.  I wanted to run my Garmin the entire race without it going dead.  This was my first time trying this, so I wasn't sure how it would work out.  Well, it actually did quite well.  My Garmin was charged after about 2 hours and I was at 100% battery life by mile 60.  Darkness fell around 7:30 p.m. and as I entered the Nachos aid station, I hooked up with Bob Brooks, who I met on the course earlier.  He asked if I was interested in the two of us running together over the nastiest part of the trail.  I was happy to oblige him, since I figured by now most of the 50 milers were done and it would be really lonely out there.  I hate running in the dark, and not being able to see anyone ahead or behind me.  It always gives me the impression that I am off course.  Having some company was just what I needed.  Plus, it was almost like having a pacer again.  Bob and I ran together for quite a while, but with about 5 miles remaining in the lap, his pace got a little to fast for me and I backed off and told him to go on without me.  I knew if I tried to keep up with him, I'd have nothing left for my last lap.  Those last 5 miles were tough.  My thoughts of the course not being so bad quickly faded, as my calves burned more with every climb and my quads burned more with every descent.  Also, the sotol had finally worn me down.  I had calf sleeves on, by my quads were cut up and very tender.  It seemed everytime I touched a sotol plant, it was agony.  I had also worked up a pretty large blister on the outside of my left heel.  All that combined slowed my pace considerably, but my stomach was in good shape and my mental game was still sharp.  My third lap took 7 hrs, 47 mins.  I had two things to celebrate at this point; #1- I had just completed mile 75 of Cactus Rose, and #2- I had just met my yearly mileage goal of running 2,012 miles in 2012.  With 25 miles left to go, the clock was at 19:50:00 and counting.  I did a little doctoring and taping of my blisters and told Dave it was time to go to work.

My "blood toll" to the sotol.

Myself and Dave prior to Lap #4. One of us has a lot of energy!

Lap #4

I told Erica that I expected this to be an 8.5 hour lap at best.  I still felt good mentally, but my body was pretty tired and my feet were extremely tender from pounding rocks all day, and from the blister I acquired.  I told Dave it would be a "comical" pace.  He said when he saw my first lap time that he thought he'd have trouble keeping up with me.  I told him not to worry b/c I wasn't moving very fast anymore.  This lap involved about 90% walking.  I tried to take advantage of the flat, rock-free portions of the trail b/c they were the only sections I could do the "100 mile shuffle" on.  My movements could no longer be considered running.  Although, I appeared to put a lot of effort into my "so-called" runs on this lap, in reality, I think I was actually moving faster by power walking.  But, making some running motions made me feel like I still had a little strenth in me.  As time wore on, my blister continued to hurt and I could feel another on coming on at the arch of my left foot.  The climbs became very slow and the descents even slower.  I took great care in coming down, so I wouldn't make my tender feet hurt anymore than necessary.  Although my legs and feet were shot, I never got a sick stomach and mentally, I was in a good place.  I knew that I was going to finish this race.  Dave was a good pacer/companion during this lap.  He kept me awake with plenty of conversation.  At a couple of points, I had to appologize to him for not responding to him, but I was so tired, my mind and my mouth were not really connected anymore.  As the lap wore on, my exhaustion kind of put me in that "walking dead" state of mind.  I would just focus on the trail and move forward as best I could.  Dave didn't mind.  He just kept on moving with me and keeping me aware of my surroundings and my calorie intake.  He kept me on point, even as I started to hallucinate seeing the raccoon in the middle of the trail, that turned out to be a patch of grass, the little girl sitting near a tent, that turned out to be a rock, and the man in the woods, which was only a tree.  I guess being up for 30+ hours will do that to you.  As we crossed over mile 90, and into Nachos aid station for the last time, I witnessed my second Texas sunrise during this race.  It would be good to have some sun on my face after nearly 12 hours of running in the dark.  When we got to Equestrian, I dumped my lights and camelback, and anything else not absolutely necessary, picked up an amphipod of water and told Dave, "Let's get the hell outta hear and go get a buckle."  And just like that, we were off.

The last 5 miles were as tough as any, and even when I ran, I seemed to be moving no faster than a walk.  There was only one obstacle between me and victory, and that was Lucky Peak.  Everything else in this section was flat.  When we hit Lucky Peak, it nearly knocked the wind out of me.  I had no more climbing ability left in me.  And at this point, it seemed higher, rockier and steeper than ever before.  Very slowly and carefully, we made it over.  With 1 mile left to go, I radioed to Erica that we were almost there.  When we made it too the junction where the trails merged, I could feel that buckle in my hands.  As we made it around the final turn, I could see the finish line.  When we got within sight, Dave let out his rebel yell, which he did everytime we got on top of a hill (The first time he did it scared the hell out of me!), so that everyone knew we were coming.  The crowd was small so late in the race, but the important people were there.  I crossed the finish line in 29:32:31, and Erica was there to congratulate me and give me some love.  I got my buckle, shook hands with Joe, and told him how his course kicked my ass.  And just like that, it was over.  I came out to Bandera not knowing how I would fare on this course, but with a single attempt, I had conquered it.  I thanked Dave again for the great job of pacing me and started to collect my stuff.  Even though it was a long, long, long race for me (The longest amount of time I have ever run.), I still was not nauseas or really feeling bad.  Usually after a race, my stomach is sick, but not today.  My nutrition was perfect, and for the most part, my mind stayed sharp.  I never go broken down mentally or hit any real low points during this race.  My training had really paid off in the end.  I finished 25th place overall.  There were 80 who started the 100 and 47 to finish; a completion rate of 59%.  The drop rate is usally around 50%.  I think the perfect temps contributed to a higher finish percentage.  I think had my feet not been so tender at the end, my time could have been a little better, but, a finish is a finish.  I will take my buckle with pride.  Edie, Brad and Bobbi also all finished their 50 miles.


Dave and I making the final turn.
 

Final steps.

I have to give some major thanks to my very supportive wife/crew, Erica, for helping me out with all of my needs during this race.  She is my ultimate supporter and has never missed a race, with the exception of the Dallas Whiterock Marathon in 2010, which she still kicks herself for.  Her love and dedication does not go overlooked.

Too Dave Silvestro for the great pacing job, and for keeping on point during my final lap.  To Antonio Alvarado, who trained to pace me, but got injured at the last minute.  And to all of my fellow ultra-runners, who are always kind, giving and supportive throughout the race.  No matter how bad you look during an ultra, there is always someone just a few steps away telling you how strong you look.  It is just the "ultra" way.  No other races compare to these.

When I had initally signed up for this race, I had intended to do the Rouge Orleans 126.2 in February 2013.  Now..........I don't think I will.  With this finish, I am in a place of great satisfaction with myself, and I don't think I have anything left to prove right now.  Rouge Orleans is still on my list, and it's time will come.  But for now, I am happy where I am at. 

Run on friends.

Lane



My beat up feet.

My Garmin experiment post-race.  I think the extreme hills made it register long.

"The Crash" post-race.

The weapons and the prize.

What The Hell Happened To My Running Game?

I have been what I would like to call a "serious runner" for about 8 years.  I started off small, with short group runs with friends, which led to 5Ks, which led to 10Ks, which led to 15Ks, which led to Half Marathons, which led to Marathons, which led to Ultra-Marathons from 50K to 100 Miles.  Some would say I am obsessed.  I like to think I am motivated;  which brings me to the point of this blog.

I have never been short on self motivation.  I enjoy running tremendously and although I have indulged in the occasional group run in the past, I am primarily a solo runner.  Not because I am trying to be anti-social, and not because I don't enjoy group running.  I just like the flexability of running on my terms, at my time, and at my pace.  Although I am not what you'd call an elite runner, I do tend to run ahead of the average recreational runner.  Which is why I tend to go solo alot.  My philosphy is, "Why show up to a group run, only to run by myself because no one runs at my pace?"  This is something that has plagued me for a while, so year by year, I have found myself less involved in the group run and more involved with my solo efforts.

There is a certain sense of pride that comes with finishing a big race after putting in many training miles on your own.  It is your victory, and yours alone.  You got this achievement by putting in your own blood, sweat and tears, and the victory is all yours. It is an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment.  In the past, this has never been a problem for me.  I was happy to run alone, most of the time, and my motivation has remained high during this time.

When 2012 rolled around, I was brimming with confidence as I set a new marathon PR at the end of 2011, only to set yet another marathon PR in early 2012; only 6 weeks later.  I had the feeling that nothing could stop me.  So next I decided to go back to ultra-marathoning.  I ran the Mississippi 50 in March 2012.  It was a tough run.  In fact I finished in 10:43:10, the worst time I had ever logged in a 50 mile race.  I chalked it up to the very poor and wet trail conditions and shook it off.  I then set my sights on doing the Cactus Rose 100 in October 2012, and a solo attempt of the Rouge Orleans 126.2 in February 2013.  I began training at the end of April.  During this time I also completed the Big Butts 50K in Clinton, MS.  Although the course was relatively flat, the extreme heat slowed my time tremendously, and I finished in 6:13:35. 

After the beating I took from the heat at Big Butts, my game seemed to have changed.  The summer heat was in full force  and my training runs were beginning to get long;  over 20 miles.  (If you've never run in summer weather in Louisiana, just imagine 90 - 100+ temps and 100% humidity, all the time.)  I began running with great difficulty on my long runs, completing most, but cutting some short on account of the heat, exhaustion and lack of motivation. 

That is what has concerned me lately.  I have never had a problem keeping my spirits high, but my summer running has taken me to a place I haven't gone before.  My running was becoming a chore, as opposed to an activity of recreation and enjoyment.  I maintained my mileage according to my plan, but make no mistake, the miles and heat have taken their toll on my body and mind.  I am always amazed when I have a great long run, and then the next week, run the same distance and totally tank.  I have definitely had more bad long runs than good this summer.  Although, there are many marathoners and iron men in the Alexandria/Pineville, LA area, ultra-runners are in short supply.  I am the only one.  Which is another reason I've been running solo for so long.  There is no one I can call up in this area to knock out a 25 trail run on the weekend.  As a result, I have all but removed myself from the local running scene.  I have not participated in one 5K or sprint triathlon all year.  Which is something I always did in the past. It just seemed pointless to waste a Saturday morning running a 5K, when my plan calls for a 20 - 25 mile run.  My only reprieve has been the occasional run with my fellow ultra runners from Lafayette.  They are my only avenue of running with other ultra athletes.  But, those runs are few and far between, and recent events have caused a rift in their group, which has made things even more difficult.

If you add all these little issues up, it equals to the most difficult running season I have ever had.  I am still training, but to say the runs are less difficult would be a lie.  I keep praying for the cooler weather to arrive, in the hopes it will jump start my game.  With only 7 weeks until Cactus Rose, better days can't get here soon enough.  How will my race go at Cactus Rose?  It is difficult to say.  Although I have never DNF'd a race, between the very difficult terrain and my current mental state...who knows?  I have no intention of DNFing, but does anyone ever enter a race with that intent?  All I know is that Cactus Rose is the light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel, and I need to get there.....one way or another.  I only hope I can get myself together by race day.  

As for Rouge Orleans..............right now it is a judgement call.  I will not even consider registering until Cactus Rose is over.  I have to see where my head is before I can commit to another race.  I know this blog is really depressing, but I needed to get this crap off my chest, and the only people who actually understand this is other runners.  

So, hopefully, I will come out of my funk before it is too late and knock Cactus Rose out of the park.  All I know right now is that I need to find my love for running again, and I need to do it soon.

Run on friends,

Lane     

Saucony Peregrine 2 Review

Saucony Peregrine 2 Review

I have been running in Saucony Kinvaras for several years, so when I decided to go with a lighter, more minimal trail shoe, the Peregrine 2s were a no-brainer, since they are basically a trail version of the Kinvaras.

The first thing I noticed when putting these on for the first time is the weight.  Very light (9.9 ounces), which was a big change for me because my primary trail shoes for the last 4 years have been Brooks Cascadias.  The uppers are made of a very light, airish mesh material.  There was plenty of room in the toe box and my toes did not feel cramped or confined.  The shoe did seem to feel a little larger than I was used too.  I always get a size 12.5, but could have maybe gotten by with a 12.  No matter.  I just had to tighten them up a little more.  When you put these shoes on for the first time, you will notice that they are very stiff, but if you are familiar with the Kinvaras at all, then you know this is normal.  It take a few runs to soften them up.  Once you do, they feel great.  Also, these shoes are considered to be a minimalist shoe and have the 4mm heal to toe drop.  This makes every step feel solid and stable, and very low to the ground.

I tried to run in every type of trail condition available to me here in Louisiana.  I will break down their performance by terrain:

1.  Hard/Packed Trails-  Performed well.  Almost felt like wearing Kinvaras.

2.  Mud-  Good traction in the mud.  The lugs are spaced out enough, where the mud doesn't stick to the bottom of the shoe, which keeps them feeling light.

3.  Water-  I ran in all types.  These shoes are light, in part because of the mesh uppers.  However, this means that the lightest touch in the shallowest of puddles ususally leaves you with damp feet.  There is very little protection from the water in these shoes.  The upside is they dry just as quickly.  In deeper water where the shoe is totally submerged, I found they dried pretty quick and never felt heavy.  This is a huge plus to me.

4.  Rocks-  I ran on several gravel/levee type roads, on everything from pea gravel to larger, golf ball sized rocks.  The shoes provided good protection from every type of rock I encountered.

Overall, I'd give this shoe an A-.  It gives me everything I need, but I feel there is always room for some type of improvement.  If you run in cold/snowy conditions, this may not be the shoe for you.  In snow or extremely cold conditions, you will definitely have cold, wet feet.  However, if you run mostly in warm conditions, like I do, this is a great shoe.

"Muddy Hell!!!!"

                          "Muddy Hell!!!!"
                                      - My tale of ultra-running and adversity in Laurel, MS.

The Date:  March 3, 2012

The Race:  Carl Touchstone Memorial Mississippi 50 Miler

The Place:  Desoto National Forest, Laurel, MS

The Report:  Here it comes....


I've been distance running since 2007, when I completed my first marathon at the Mardi Gras Marathon in New Orleans (Before it was the Rock n Roll Marathon).  I've been running ultras since 2009.  I like to think of myself as a pretty seasoned distance runner who is familiar with the trials and tribulations that come with putting your body through extended and difficult events and conditions.  I had not run an ultra since clocking a sub-24 hour finish at the 2011 Rocky Raccoon.  I ran that race strongly and felt great before, during and afterward.  After Rocky, I took a little time off to recover and then decided to step away from ultras for a little while and focus on marathoning again.  I never thought my current marathon PR of 3:40:59 was my best effort and I wanted to re-establish myself and a strong marathoner.  Following some hard training, I logged a new PR at the 2011 St. Jude Memphis Marathon of 3:28:30, followed by another PR of 3:23:52 just 6 weeks later at the Louisiana Marathon.  I had achieved my goal to PR, twice, and I was happy.  But after a year of beating myself up on the road, the trails began to call me back.  I intended to sign up for the 2012 Rocky Raccoon 100, even though I knew that the short 5 week turnaround would not be an adequate amount of time to re-integrate myself to ultra trail running.  As luck would have it, Rocky filled up way faster than expected, and before I knew it, the registration was closed.  I could have gotten in on the waiting list, but I just took that as a sign that it was too soon.  I still wanted to get back to ultras, so I decided on the Mississippi 50.  It gave me a little more time to train and it was still close to home.


So train I did, and before I knew it race day was upon me.  My wife/crew Erica and I left on Friday for the 4 hour trek east to Laurel, MS.  One of the reasons I picked this race was because of it's reputation of being a flat, fast course.  After two recent marathon PRs, I, of course, had a 50 mile PR on my mind.  I was shooting for 9 hours or less; a PR of 12 minutes or so, if I could achieve that. What could go wrong?  Right????


As race day got closer, the rain got heavier, and Mississippi was immersed in a deluge for most of the week prior to the race.  As I sat in my hotel the night before the race, watching the Weather Channel as if it were some type of interesting movie, I thought about how bad the race course might be.  The prediction that night was 80% chance of severe thunderstorms, hail, and possible tornadoes.  Not exactly the best way to begin a race.  To add insult to injury, they were also predicting between 30% and 60% chance of rain on race day.

I woke up Saturday morning to the rain.  It was cool, in the 50s, but it did not appear to have rained as much as predicted.  On the drive to the start, the rain stopped and I felt like maybe things would be ok.  I got myself set up and before I knew it, the 6 O'clock hour was there and we were running. 

Lap #1 (12.5 miles)-  The first mile was pretty good.  Everyone was establishing their pace and dancing around a few mud holes.  Nothing major.  Then came the first creek crossing. It was about 25 feet wide and knee-deep.  Only 49 miles left to go I my feet were not wet, they were drenched.  But, that's part of it and I had on Dri-Max socks which dry out quickly, so I felt I'd be ok.  But then the mud came into play.  See, this course is not designed strictly for running.  It is an active horse trail.  So on top of the creeks, we also had to deal with soft, stinky mud.  Not just regular mud....the kind of mud that makes that sucking noise as you step into it and wants to take your shoes from you.  And it was all over the course!!!!  It was difficult to establish a pace because as soon as you did, you'd hit a long stretch of unavoidable mud that you had to walk through or you'd fall.  But not to worry, because not far from that mud was a nice, cool creek that would totally wash off the mud, but then leave your shoes feeling extremely wet and heavy.  I figure there were at least 15 to 20 creek crossings, ranging from ankle-deep to thigh-deep, throughout this loop.  And when you weren't getting wet, you were getting muddy.  All that being said, I felt good on this loop and finished in a respectable 2:01:18.  I was happy with that.  When I got by my drop bag, I talked to Erica for a second and I was off for lap #2. 


Lap #1 Results-  12.5 miles     2:01:18     Pace- 9:42

                                          (Disregard the date.  Camera malfunction.)


Lap #2 (12.5 miles)-  Lap #2 was more of the same.  More water and more mud, but with a twist.  Now the trail had been trampled by 200 or so 50 Mile and 50K runners as well as the 20K runners who had just started their first lap at 8:00.  The trail had quickly deteriorated to a wet, muddy mess.  It was more difficult to navigate and more difficult to establish a steady pace.  I began to look forward to the few gravel sections of the course that were flat, hard and dry.  They felt like heaven once you got to them.  By the time I got to mile 20, I had slowed some and my over-saturated, muddy shoes felt more like concrete blocks.  When I reached the start/finish area at mile 25, I decided that as pointless as it was, I would change my socks and shoes.  I just wanted to run for that one mile in dry shoes.  So for the first time, I sat and changed socks and shoes, sucked down a Red Bull and ate a little.  I sat a little longer than intended because of the difficulty of getting on and off socks on my cold wet feet.  I figure by the time I left, I had sat for around 7 to 10 minutes.  Too damn long!!!!  I complained about the mud to Erica and then left for Lap #3.


Lap #2 Results-  12.5 miles     2:31:23     Pace- 12:06     


Total Miles- 25     Elapsed Time- 4:32:41     Avg. Pace- 10:54  


Lap #3 (12.5 miles)-  Lap #3 was a turning point for me.  The trail had really deteriorated to the worst of extremes.  It just seemed like one long, 12.5 mile, muddy puddle.  My dry socks and shoes lasted for the intended 1 mile and then they were wet again.  The mud now was not even mud anymore.  It was a brown, soupy slush that tried to take your shoes off with every step.  There was no more trying to circumvent the bad spots, because the bad spot was 12.5 miles long.  It was just mud, water, mud, water, mud, water.....over and over and over.  I got to the point that when I saw a creek or a really bad spot in the trail, it literally turned my stomach.  I'd been running for over 5 hours in extremely poor trail conditions and now to top it all off, the rain began to fall.  My pace had really slowed and I began to feel weak.  Then I realized I'd made a huge mistake.  I normally always bring some type of solid food like a sandwich or something to eat throughout the race.  I did not.  I decided to rely on what was provided at the aid stations, which was the usual sweets, salts, and PB&J.  It was not enough to sustain me and I began to crash.  I had pretty much been running on GU, water and a few things from the aid stations.  I also did not bring any type of electrolyte drink.  They had Heed at the aid stations.  I hate Heed!!!!  I knew I hated Heed, but for whatever reason, I did nothing about it.  I still took salt tabs, but at that point it did little to help me.  I was slipping into a low spot quickly, with little hope of recovery.  I guess I totally underestimated the course and the weather conditions.  "I am an experienced ultra runner.  I can handle this.", I thought.  But the trail doesn't care who you are or how many ultras you've run.  It doesn't care that you are a sub-24 100 miler.  It treats everyone exactly the same, from the rookie 20K runner to the veteran 100 miler.  Now my goal had changed from a 50 mile PR to self preservation.  I had just hit the wall. 


As I stopped at my drop bag after completing my third lap, I was totally exhausted both mentally and physically. I was tired of running with wet feet and the trail was beating me. I found myself in a low spot that I'd never been in before. I then said words that have never come across my lips, "I feel like I could drop.", I told Erica.   Never before in a race had I ever even considered it, but I was really in a bad spot right now and it seemed plausible to do so. I could stop now and get credit for the 50K, lick my wounds and go home. Thankfully, there was still a little glimmer of hope in me and deep down I knew that I was too close to the end to quit now. I had 12.5 miles to go. I had to keep moving forward. One bright spot was I had finally bid farewell to the hellacious 12.5 mile yellow loop and I was moving on to the shorter and hopefully better 6.25 mile blue loop. I collected myself and pressed on for Lap#4. 

Lap #3 Results-  12.5 miles     3:05:55     Pace- 14:52


Total Miles- 37.5     Elapsed Time- 7:38:36     Avg Pace- 12:13

                                                                     (The Wall!!!)


Lap#4 (6.25 miles)-  Lap #4 started like all the others.  The first mile was clean and dry, but the water and mud quickly came and I was in the same situation all over again.  By now, aside from being beaten down mentally and physically, I was hungry and weak.  I needed some solid food, which I did not have and simply had to continue on without it.  Rain continued to fall at regular intervals and the temps were cooling.  I ran sporadically, if you call it that.  A few steps, navigate a creek.  A few steps, walk through the mud.  I was doing way more walking than running.  I beginning to get passed by a lot of other 50 Milers as well.  Unlike me, most seemed to be running with vigor, totally unphased by the poor conditions of the day.  As I got passed, I began to ask some of them, "First or second short loop?".  To my dismay, many of them were on their second.  This certainly didn't help my mental state.  I ran alone for a long time and felt like I was the only one left on the course.  On occasion, I'd pass someone, only to be passed by them a little further down the trail.  It was disheartening.  Although this loop had more and longer dry spots than the previous loops, it did little to boost my performance.  At the end of Lap #4 I walked through the start/finish area.  The race director, Dennis, asked what I had left.  I woefully said, "One more lap."  I got a PB&J, which I really didn't want, and went to my drop bag.


Lap #4 Results- 6.25 miles     1:40:23     Pace- 16:03


Total Miles- 43.75     Elapsed Time- 9:18:59     Avg. Pace- 12:46

Lap #5 (6.25 miles)-  I didn't sit very long at my drop bag this time.  I wanted to get done.  By now it was 3:30 pm.  I'd been running for over 9 hours, and the day before I would have told you I'd be done by now.  With only a little over 6 miles to go, I was off.  I told Erica I'd probably take between 1 hour and 40 minutes to 2 hours to complete this lap.  Although it was still early in the day, the wet, overcast conditions made it seem like dusk already.  Add the canopy of the trees to that and it looked like it was getting dark sooner than later.  That's when it hit me........I wanted to pick up my head lamp for this lap.  I didn't think I would need it, but it was a safety net.  The problem was that I was already a mile into the last lap.  Then desperation hit.  You always hear the phrase "Mind Over Matter".  Well I'm here to tell you, that phrase is no myth.  When I realized I had left my light at the drop and I could possibly get caught in the dark on an unfamiliar trail, my survival instincts kicked in.  I quickly forgot how bad my day went, how bad I felt, and how tired and hungry I was and I began to run.  Not shuffle, as I had been doing for the last 5 hours.........Running!!!!!!!  My mind took over and blocked out all of the mental and physical pain.  I watched my pace increase to 10:30 - 11:00 minute pace.  I was moving again.  I established a plan to run 9/10s of a mile and walk the last 10th.  This worked out well.  If I hit mud and water, I walked through it, but immediately began to run again afterward.  Now I was the one passing people; people who were walking and looked like I had only an hour before.  I had to get to the finish and fast.  As I hit mile 49, it became evident that I would finish in the daylight and my adrenaline rush began to decrease.  My pace slowed and I started walking a little more.  But what a surge I had in those last 5 miles.  Finally the finish line was in sight and I ran it in with authority.  I was done in 10:43:10.  It wasn't pretty and it wasn't easy, but it was a finish and I'll take it.  The race director, Dennis, handed me my 50 Mile buckle and an Amphipod.  I told Erica the day before that I didn't think a 50 Miler was worthy of a buckle, but after what I went through, I was happy to accept it.  My stance has softened a little on that issue.  I made it to the car, posed for some pictures and exchanged congratulation with a few other runners.  The day was done and thankfully I had stuck it out.


Lap #5 Results- 6.25 miles     1:24:11     Pace- 13:28


Total Miles- 50     Elapsed Time-  10:43:10     Avg. Pace- 12:51

In the end, I finished middle of the pack. Of the 116 50 Milers who started that morning, only 80 would finish. Many more dropped to the 50K or 20K. Of the 80 who finished, I was 43rd. Considering how I felt, that was not too bad.


In closing, I guess the thing I learned from this race is to never underestimate your opponent; and by opponent I mean the course.  I went into this race with high hopes b/c it was supposed to be a fairly easy course, as far as ultras go., but I was proved wrong by the weather and the resulting trail conditions and I made a few dumb mistakes of my own.  This one was a learning experience and I learned some valuable lessons that I will carry with me to my next ultra.  In the end, it was a good experience.  When you hit your lowest of lows, it strengthens your mind, body and soul for the next difficult situation.  I always tell Erica, "If ultra running was easy, everyone would do it.".  And you know what???  I'm right.


Run on friends.