Pacing the Cowtown - Part Five.

Six weeks ago, I ran my sixth consecutive Cowtown, and paced the 50km for the fifth straight year.  Race conditions were fantastic, and our group settled into a nice 10:30 per mile pace.  Unfortunately, by mile 24 or so, all but one runner had dropped back, unable to keep up.  And around mile 26, my remaining pacee was toast and could not longer stick with me.  (No worries, though, he finished strong, just a little farther back.)

But every cloud has a silver lining, and coming around the final bend, I spotted Ezra James.  He hopped over the fence and joined me as we romped our way to the finish line.  For the past five and a half years, I've looked forward to the time when we would (metaphorically) break the tape together.  Good times.

Good times.

And, hey, how about the nifty medal series?  Not bad. 

The Final Frontier.

And here it is, amigos.  The anti-climatic video of my last 100 mile attempt (at least, on foot).  New adventures await.

2013 Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile Attempt from Ryan Valdez on Vimeo.

The Triple Lindy.

Three loops, 60 miles, and that's all she wrote.  My optimism never waned, but the firmness of my footing certainly did.  As in my previous RR100 attempt, my feet ultimately betrayed me, succumbing to debilitating blisters.

 

I’ve come to the conclusion that RR is a tough course for me because of the dust.  It gets in my shoes, between my toes, and under the balls of my feet.  I've used Body Glide, Hydropel, Blister Shield--you name it.  I wear gaiters, but nothing keeps the grit out.  Without fail, hot spots inevitably form, typically around mile 30 or so. I’ve had to bail on my two 100 mile attempts at RR because of blisters. 

 

Last year, my feet held up better than they ever had on the RR course, and I think it is because the rain and mud minimized the dust.  My feet were wet, but blister-free.  I felt good after 50 miles through nasty conditions.

 

And my one 100 mile finish was on a tougher course during abysmal conditions--rain, 20 degree temperatures, complete exposure to the elements.

 

In any event, I really do think I am done with 100s.  With two kids, work, and other hobbies (golf, cycling, lifting, etc.), time is a bit too precious to spend hours on end running.  I plan to make 50 miles my longest distance.  It is tough but manageable, I can finish in the daylight, recovery is only about a day or so, and the training is much less intensive.  I finish feeling like I accomplished something, but without being completely wrecked.

 

Next up is the Cowtown Ultra, followed by the Waco T’nT 50 km.  After that, I am going to pull the bike out of storage and log some miles in the saddle.

 

Vaya con Dios. 

 

p.s. I did take some video during the run, which I will be posting some time in the next week.

I write not to sandbag or lodge preemptory excuses, but to simply lay down the facts and bumptiously assert my aspirations for this weekend’s Rocky Raccoon 100 mile endurance run.

Let’s start with training.

I began 2012 in earnest with respectable showings at the 2012 Bandera 50K and Rocky Raccoon 50 mile runs.  Cowtown was a bit rough, but I nonetheless made it through with my sensibilities intact.

I continued the long runs as the summer heat made its forceful leap into the forefront of the forecast.  But sometime mid-summer, my Achilles decided to rebel, as has been exhaustingly documented.

Prolotherapy or the Placebo Effect finally got me back on my feet in October, and I felt good knocking down 26 miles at Ultracentric the following month.

I welcomed 2013 with eight and half hours of wet, sticky sludge with my worst Bandera 50K time yet.  But given the less-than-optimal conditions (in my opinion, at least), I was okay with merely finishing.

So here we are, on the precipice of attempting to run 100 miles for the fourth time in four years. 

My first shot took place in February 2009, when inexperience encouraged me to gut out blisters and chafing issues rather deal with them head on upon their first appearance.  I made it about 77 miles.

Eight months later, I toed the line at the 2009 Heartland 100 in abysmal cold, windy, wet conditions.  Somehow, I managed to finish, albeit in 28 hours and 53 minutes.  I was so wrecked after the race that I had to send my pacer to the finisher’s ceremony to pick up my belt buckle.

In November 2010, I half-heartedly joined Jason for the Mother Road 100, but pulled out early at 41 miles when it became apparent that I just didn’t have the mental fortitude to go the distance.

I took 2011 easy.  I only ran two races – the Cowtown 50K (as a pacer) and the Cactus Rose 50 milerun (where I DNF’d at 30 miles).  I also snuck in a century ride from Austin to Shiner.

2012 was my year to get back to it, but the Achilles injury knocked out ¼ of the year.

The question is: how do I feel going into Saturday’s 100 mile attempt in Huntsville?

Drumroll please…

I feel…

Surprisingly optimistic.

“The hell,” you say.

Indeed.  And I’ll tell you why.

I’ve got nothing to prove.  I’ve run 38 marathons and ultramarathons.  I’ve been to the 100 mile rodeo.  I’ve been bucked to the ground, and I’ve made it the full eight seconds.  Just be smart, tend to hot spots before they become debilitating, and keep moving forward.

All that considered, I’m pretty sure Anton said it best: Running 100 miles is fucking hard.  Period.

"Release the fury!!!"



 

Just a fun little stroll through mud, rocks, rain, fog, and slime.

D.O.M.S.

Delayed onset muscle soreness.  Yep, I am very familiar with it.  It's been five days, and the quads and feet are still sore from the Bandera beatdown.  This is probably the longest these aches have lingered in quite some time.  Not sure if the cause is the rough race conditions or simply a lack of quality preparation.  In any event, today will be my first visit back to the gym since last Saturday.

Conditions.

A quick google search will reveal numerous reports on the nasty conditions that welcomed runners Saturday morning in Bandera. Warm and humid. Wet and slick. Thick and muddy. Of my six appearances at the State Nature Area, 2013 ranks as the nastiest. The course just wasn't very hospitable--or runnable--at least for an amateur city goat like me.

I toed the line a good half hour after the start, having arrived in what I thought was plenty of time, only to be greeted by a bottleneck of traffic slowly seeping into the Lodge. 1,000 runners plus who knows how many friends and families turned what had previously been a fairly easy arrival into a traffic jam. I suppose it's a by product of the explosion of interest in ultra running and trail events in particular. I'm not one to lament the influx of newbies (I was one of them just 6 years ago), but I would be less than truthful if I didn't admit a longing for the smaller, more tight knit community that existed not so long ago.

The good thing about starting late is avoiding the masses at the beginning of the mostly single track course. I carefully made my way through the morning fog and light rain, enormous chunks of thick, clay-like mud clinging to my shoes. Normally, I can take the downhill portions fairly quickly, letting gravity do the work I as I hop from rock to rock. Not this year. The tops of the hills were more treacherous than usual, coated with slippery slime and mud. I had to concentrate on staying upright and not sliding off the side of the Hill Country. It was a slog fest.

After half way through the 50km, I hooked up with Guy, an ex-marine from New York. We decided to stick it out together for the remainder of the run. More of a hike than a run, actually. We kept the mood light and swapped stories, moving forward slowly but purposefully. Despite the fact that we probably walked half of the next 15 miles, we were never passed by any runners (other than the elite 100km studs). So apparently, many folks had also chosen to forego running for walking, given the miserable conditions.

Officially, I finished in 9 hours and 4 minutes. Because I started the run 30 minutes late, I'm putting my net time at around 8 hours and 34 minutes. That's an hour slower than last year's time. Oh well. With the rough climate--and just getting over a nasty bout of the flu that had me in bed with chills and a fever for three days before the race--I'm okay with merely finishing.

Recovery awaits.

p.s. My kids are cool.

Ambition.

2012 was a good year for our family. The arrival of our beautiful, sweet daughter; pre-school graduation and the start of kindergarten for our kind and delightfully devious son; trips to Playa del Carmen, Hot Springs Village, Austin, Miami, and New Orleans; an ample helping of live music from our favorite groups; family, football, baseball, and all things five year old boy. Our time together was relaxed, exciting, enjoyable, and hectic--an incomparable way to spend a year.

On the running front, I started off strong with good races at Bandera and Rocky Raccoon. Pacing the Cowtown was slow but appropriately so.

After that, however, things dropped off drastically, replacing running with golf, swimming, and avoiding the excessive Texas heat. When I finally started fraying to put back in some decent mileage, I developed a debilitating case of Achilles tendonitis.

While not a big believer in resolutions, I am a goal-oriented type of person that thrives on challenge, regardless of the severity.  Having races on the calendar keeps me motivated to move.  But with two children, time is a bit more limited than in years past.  Keeping that in mind, here is my (relatively) ambitious race schedule for 2013:

01.12.13 - Bandera 50 km
02.02.13 - Rocky Raccoon 100 mile (subject to cancellation if I get called to trial)
03.16.13 - Tn'T Waco 50 km
04.14.13 - Big D Marathon
06.??.13 - Cow Creek Country Classic Ride (75 or 100 miles)
06.15.13 - Tour d'Italia Ride (63 miles)
07.13.13 - Peach Pedal Ride (100 km)
07.21.13 - El Scorcho (race director)
12.??.13 - Cajun Coyote 100 mile (make up race if RR100 is cancelled due to trial)

Then and Now.

Five years ago, I dove headfirst into the ultra world and tackled my first 12-hour run at the 2007 Ultracentric event.  My three and a half months old son, Ezra, braved the cold to send me off on a 53 mile venture.

Last month, I made my way back to Grapevine for the 2012 Ultracentric.  Recovering from an Achilles injury that had me sidelined for almost four months, I would only go for 6 hours with a plan to stop once I hit the marathon distance.  This year, my eight month old daughter, Annie, helped get me going, along with Ezra, now five years old.

Good times, amigos.

Two children certainly up the ante.  We've gone from the double-team to man-on-man defense.  And the kids are winning. 

Alas.

Running is in full swing.  I knocked back 13.5 miles last Thursday and felt suprisingly jaunty throughout the scramble.  This weekend I tackle the overly ambitious 6-hour Ultracentric Experience. 

Moderation is for wimps.

Ultracentric thinking.

Welcome back, long run.

Eight miles of bliss last Saturday will be followed by ten miles, then mas, mas, mas, but slow, slow, slow.  That's okay; I'm running.  And the weather is perfect.  And it feels so, so GOOD.

In a rash of post-ramble euphoria, I signed up for the six-hour Ultracentric event in three weeks.  A bit over eager, perhaps?  Maybe.  But the plan is to take it easy, walk liberally, and just enjoy several hours of solid, forward motion.

PRO-lotherapy

Holy pain-free Achilles, Batman; prolotherapy is the SH*T!

Three treatments, and I am running like I stole something.  (Albeit, something very heavy, which causes me to run very slowly.)