The Comeback Kid: A Massanutten 100 Story

(photo courtesy of MoutainPeakFitness)

There were three comebacks that happened on Sunday May 18th, 2013. The first being a comeback from months of injury and doubt to finish one of the toughest foot races in the country. The second being a comeback back from a recent back strain that got reaggrevated at mile 70. It nearly caused me to drop out at mile 78. The third and final comeback was avenging my DNF from 2009.

It was May 7th, 2013. All morning I had been stairing at my computer deciding whether or not to click the submit button. I was on the VHTRC's Massanutten Mountain Trails 100 "remove from event" page. I had eveything filled out and all I had to do was click a little button and I would be removed from the entrants list. Afterall, it was just two days earlier I had strained my back again from sleeping awkwardly on it. Those pesky lower back problems. Sigh. On and off since I was 14 years old, and now was a pretty crappy time for them to revisit. On a scale from 1 to 10 (10 being so painful I can't tie my shoes, or get out of bed), my body was around an 8 or 9. Not the place to be two weeks away from attempting such a grueling event. May 7th was also the last day to withdraw and receive a refund, and thus, removing myself from the entrants list seemed logical.

However, as May 7th came to an end and midnight arrived, I never allowed myself to click the submit button. So many thoughts had been lingering throughout my mind. I had waited so long to get back to Massanutten. Four long years, in fact. Though injured the entire fall and winter, I had forced myself to reinvent my running so I could squeeze in five weeks of quality training. 20 mile running weeks turned into 40 miles, and then 60, 80, and eventually 110 by May. Simply put, I had worked too damn hard to be ready, and I owed it to myself to at least make it to the starting line.

The race itself really isn't as important as what happened before, or even after. I chose to run a smart race and not risk gunning for a sub 24 hour time. Five weeks of training, for what it's worth, wasn't enough to make a sub 24 hour finish plausible. Why chance it? Instead, I opted to run a smooth and casual 26-27 hour projected finish pace through the first 70 miles. I didn't feel tired, and every time I arrived at an aid station I looked fresh as a daisy. A lot of folks commented on how, even after 60+ miles, I looked like I hadn't even been running. Then, in the blink of an eye my worst fears became a reality. On the steep climb up Jawbone my lower back completely seized up. Everything I had worried about happening in the previous weeks was coming to an ugly fruition. Over the next three hours I spent significant time stopping to stretch, rest my back, and figure out how to minimize the sharp pain running down my back with every step.

So many doubts afflicted my consciousness. "I should have just removed myself from that damn entrants list!". "Mike, why the hell did you come out here? You knew this would happen." "Your race is over". "Drop at the next aid station. Afterall, 78 miles on this course is still something to be proud of". "Mike, you have suffered for over three hours now, the next 34 miles will take you 12-13 more. You don't need this." "Be safe Mike. Just drop and don't hurt yourself. It's not worth it". "Two starts at Massanutten. Two drops.". "You just flushed that $185 entry fee down the drain."

Crossing over Kern mountain in the black of night was a dark journey through my mind. I was slowly beginning to lose the battle of wills. I just wanted to be done. Crisman Hollow road might has well have been the road to perdition. I slowly walked down the winding pavement to route 211 and the visitor's center aid station. I took my time in order to reflect a bit, because I knew my race was going to end in just a few short miles. Pretty soon this silly notion of running 100+ miles will be over and I will be in a warm car headed back to a haven a sleep and rest. Oh the irony. Such a difficult race, and yet the one thing to take me out was an injury that had nothing to do with this race, or even running.

When I arrived at mile 78, I told the volunteers I was dropping. I met my friends Tabitha, Ryan, and Emily and told them what had happened. I received no pitty as they urged me to keep going. But, they didn't get it. My back was jacked up, and another 26 miles of notoriously rocky mountain trails was not in the cards. 26 miles in my current condition meant at least another 10, or more hours on the trail. I was going to drop. Again, no pitty. I wrapped myself up in warm clothes and a sleeping bag, and laid on a cot to loosen up my back. I staired at the night sky, then at my friends, and listened to their encouragement to just keep going. I thought about what would happen if I dropped. What did I even have to go home to? My empty apartment? My job that is getting the axe in six weeks? All I would be bringing back with me would be dirty clothes and sense of longing for not acheiving what I ultimately set out to do. That's what makes me an ultrarunner. But, I just continued to lay there. Thinking. Pondering. The clock continued to tick. A lot of time was passing.

"Ok Mike, it's time to go." Those were the simple words my friends gave me. Like a boxer getting up on the count of nine, I made my way back to my feet. Sometimes it just comes down to how much you can take and keep moving forward. Albeit slow, we soldiered on through the dense foggy night as I fought off sleep deprivation. I had been up since 2:30am the day before, and was now nearing 28 hours without sleep. For most of my 100 mile races, I have finished near midnight, but this was an entirely different beast. My back was now a fleeting thought as lack of sleep had become my new nemesis. Eventually, I stopped along the trail for a five minute nap. Five minutes of bliss. When I got back up, I was recharged as if I had slept for several hours. As the sun came up I was a new man. Though most of the final 26 miles were incredibly slow, I closed out the final seven miles with the heart of a lion. It wasn't fast, it wasn't pretty, but I'll be damned it WAS a finish.

I will add, the one good part about having such a slow race is that I felt remarkably good post race. Considering the challenging nature of the course and terrain, I was quite pleased to come away with no blisters, no sore feet, and only minimal residual soreness in my legs. I actually looked so fresh at the finish that a lot of people (especially the ones who heard me say I was dropping at mile 78) thought I had dropped and had come back to cheer on the runners. Another friend even thought I had dropped and come back to pace a runner in. He didn't realize that I was still in the race and the runner who was with me was actually my pacer.

Closing thoughts: When I DNF'ed Massanutten in 2009, the only souvenir I got was a car accident, shards of window glass, and two bloody legs. This time I got a buckle, and from experience I will say getting the buckle is better. Big thank yous to Ryan Quinnelly and Emily Warner who paced/crewed me for the final 26 miles. A special thank you to my friend Tabitha who crewed for me most of the day and helped make my back feel better at mile 78. Tabitha had the epic task of crewing two runners, both of which had rough days, but eventually finished because she is a badass crew person. There's no doubt that without their encouragement during the race, and specifically at the crucial moment at mile 78, I was 99% going to drop. I am humbled by the amount of time and energy all of you put into this weekend to make things happen. You are amazing! Thanks also to all the volunteers who were out there from the early morning and the wee hours of the night to see us through.

Massanutten in 2014? We will see........ ;-)

-Mike Bailey

The Road to the Massanutten Mountain Trails 100 and Race Predictions

(Courtesy of the VHTRC)

It's been a very long road back to the VHTRC's notorious Massanutten Mountain Trails 100. Times have changed quite a bit since my only attempt back in 2009. That year, as a novice 100 mile runner, Bryan Powell's popular iRunFar page predicted me for a top 10 finish. The whole article can be seen at this address http://www.irunfar.com/2009/05/2009-massanutten-100-mens-race-preview.html

However, it is safe to say that the 2009 MMT went horribly wrong, and ended up turning into a day and night of chaos. The race itself was a logistical disaster, and fortelling of the real pain to come. By mile 35 I was already extremely dehydrated, and by the halfway point I was 3 hours slower than my projected pace time. I ran uncrewed, and because my pacing so was much slower than expected my night gear and cool weather clothing were several hours away from the point I needed them. The 2009 event saw two storms roll through, and the second being a dangerous cold front that dropped the daytime temperatures from the upper 80's to below 60. I got caught on the highest point of the course (Bird Knob) in the worst part of the storm. Lightning was scattered along the ridgeline and I was getting pelted with stinging hail and driving rains. Needless to say, within minutes I was soaked to the bone, freezing, and now in the dark without night gear. After an hour of walking, mild hypothermia started setting in, and I was forced to drop considering my only change of clothes was still over 15 miles away.

As tough as the race was, the real suffering had yet to happen. At 1:00am a volunteer was driving myself and another runner who dropped back to the start/finish area. Minutes later on the wet winding roads of Fort Valley our driver momentarily fell asleep and the vehicle ran off the road. We slammed into a tree at 40 mph leaving the vehicle in a precarious position hanging off the side of the road. The headlights pointed aimlessesly into the canopy of trees while the horn continuously echoed into the darkness. The second passenger, who was not wearing a seat belt, was thrown from the backseat and smashed into the front windshield and landed on top of me (I was in the passenger seat). The car was filled with airbag fumes, and my legs were a bloody mess from where the crushed dash board had sliced off all my skin. As I collected myself and assessed I had no major broken bones, I forced myself out of the car. My door was pinned closed by a rock, so I crawled at a 45 degree angle out of the driver's side. Once out, the driver helped flag down help, and I pulled the other injured passenger out of the vehicle. Within an hour EMS arrived and I was being treated for major lacerations, and the other passenger for internal bleeding and head trauma.

That was how my 2009 MMT happened, and I still have the scars to remember it by. It's now been a four year wait to get back and reunite with a place I have such hauntingly vivid memories. In 2010, for obvious reasons, I had no desire to run MMT, but chose to volunteer at the route 211 and picnic area aid stations. In 2011 I actually got into MMT on the lottery, but because I also got selected in the Western States lottery, I opted not to run MMT. That year I ended up pacing the 3rd place female, Kathleen Cusick. In 2012, I was nearly dead last in the lottery, and withdrew my name and opted to run Old Dominion as a last second run. As a pleasant surprise Old Dominion ended up being one of my best 100 mile runs to date. And now the 2013 MMT is less than 10 days away. I am coming off nearly six months of injuries, but managed to squeek in five strong weeks of training. Needless to say, my only goal is to finish and to finally redeem my 2009 DNF.

Race Preview

Women:

Kathleen Cusick- Fresh off a breakthrough win at the Vermont 100, Kathleen is due at MMT. She's always strong and always a contender for a top three. Sheryl has gotten the best of her at every meeting thus far, but I think this year will be different. Predict 25:30 for the win.

Sheryl Wheeler- The 2010 MMT women's champ is back again. Sheryl is known for going out conservative, but closes out the final 35 miles of MMT as strong as anyone I know. Predict 26:18

Jordan Wirfs-Brock- From Colorado, I think she will surprise some of us East coasters. Predict 26:45 for 3rd.

Megan McGrath- Ran 7:26 at Tussey Mountainback. Has the speed, but not the experience of the other women. Predict 4th in 27:10

Sheila Rao- Has had some really impressive runs this year and last, including a solid BRR. I could see her near 27 hours, if not better, and a top five.

Robin Watkins- Has yet to run 100 miles, but I think she will have a solid debut. Predict 27:40 for 6th.

Jess Mullen- From WA, she has pretty good experience and speed at 100 miles. Possibly sub 28 hours, but they don't have our kind of rocks in WA. Predict 28:15

Kerry Owens- Sometimes experience pays, and Kerry has a ton. I suspect a finish around 28 hours and a top eight.

Courtney Nestor- I was impressed with her running during the MMT 2 training run. Easily a sub 30 candidate and rounding out the top ten women. Predict 29:35

Men:

James Blandford- Simply put, James has been taking it to a whole new level in the past two years, and somehow stayed under the radar. Ran 20:31 last year, but his 6:39 at Bull Run Run shows he's more fit than ever. Predict 19:44 for the win.

Mike Mason- Mike is one of the most experienced contenders in the field, and he has done well at MMT. Predict 20:50 for 2nd.

Patrick McGlade- Ran an impressive, albeit unofficial 57.4 miles in 8:04 at the Icy 8 Hour. His speed has taken off recently, and he's had success at 100 miles. Not sure how he will fair on the rocks. Predict 21:30 for third.

Brad Hinton- Brad was already fast, but has gotten even faster in the last couple years. Still only has one 100 mile finish. Predict 21:40

Jason Lantz- Doesn't look to be in the same shape as last year, but since he's the defending champ, I got to think he's capable of a top 3. Predict 21:45

Denis Mikhaylov- Darkhorse pick. Won the rugged Virgil Crest 100 in 21:34. Predict 22:40

Evan Cestari- Ran 21:32 in 2011 and 19:33 at Oil Creek. Definitely going to be near the top 5. Predict 22:10

Keith Knipling- A perennial favorite at MMT, I think we'll see Keith come in around 23 hours and top 6. Predict 22:58

Ryan Henry- Always runs well at MMT and has gone under 24 hours several times. Predict 23:15

Jim Harris- The quiet guy that always crushes tough 100's. I think Jim will be in the top 8, and perhaps close to 23 hours. Predict 23:23

John Dove- Lots of experience, and he has won Pinhoti and Georgia Jewell 100 milers. Predict 23:30


Other's guys to pay attention to and potential sub 24 hours:

Barry Lass- fast and relatively unknown. Broke 24 hours at Grindstone. Might just sneek under 24. Predict 23:50

Joe Dudak- Ran 23:16 at Grindstone, and 12:24 at Hellgate 100k. The longer the race, the better he seems to run. Predict 24:30

Rande Brown- Rande surprised a lot of folks with his 22:11 last year. Will lightning strike twice? Predict 25 hours and a top 15

Matt Bugin- One of the fastest guys, but with no 100 mile experience. Predict 26:30, but obviously capable of much faster.

Ryan Nebel- He's been training hard, and has a great mix of speed and endurance. He's run some solid races this spring. Potentially a sub 24 hour finisher. Predict 25:15

AJ Cillo- He's a strong runner that I wouldn't be surprised to also see near 24 hours. Predict 24:45

Ryan O'dell- Has run sub 17 hours for 100, but on roads. Predict 24:40

David Ploskonka- Dave crushed the ultra scene last year, but has not had the same intensity this year. He has run sub 18 at Old Dominion, 8th at Badwater, and sub 24 last year at MMT. Predict 26:10

Ryan Meulemans- Ran 24:08 last year and was the first runner over 24 hours. It's tough to get that close. I think he'll be gunning for sub 24 for sure. Let's hope he gets it. Predict 23:59 just to give the nod for sub 24.

Padraig Mullins- Little known guy from MA. Ran 9:22 for 100k. Who knows?

Julian Vicente- Ran under 24 hours last year, and his experience will only make him wiser this year. Probably another sub 24





Good luck everyone. See you on May 18th

A Thin Golden Strip

Somewhere between night and day there is but a thin golden strip of permeating light.

It is quiet in the way nature had intended. It is the dawn of January 1, 2007. I sit atop Mary's Rock overlook in the Shenandoah valley with four of my closest friends. The search of sunrise is nearing its end as the amber glow ushers in a brand new year. As I look back to the West I can see the dark shroud of night retreating off into the distant mountains. I am literally watching the year 2006 vanish away with the morning fog that drapes the very mountains we wait upon. This is the time we start anew. In these short days the long years seek for atonement for the memories they have engrained.

In mere moments the first etching of sunlight blazes itself unto the new morning. It is the metaphysical embodiment of rebirth. While the cold winds remind us that we are in the dead of winter, it is the contrasting warm star on the horizon that reminds us of life. I could easily daydream, but am found completely engulfed in this place and time. It is seemgingly a place between time. There are no other worries and no distractions. As my finite human form is sihloutted on the grandeur of the mountaintop, it comes as a pleasant reminder of how small we are on the scope of something eternal. We are but a vapor released into the infinite expanse of space and creation. Even the very sun that enamors us will be but a fading glimmer in several billion years. It is only when looking into the eyes of forever that you acknowledge the urgency of living right now.

As the sun rises higher, it is a reminder that this day too shall pass into the chronicles of yesterday. However, as I take one last look at the small towns below I feel a sense of catharsis. A quiet peace in knowing that however small we may be, we are still of great significance. Until times requires it reliquished, every moment is ours to hold onto, and to grasp tightly.

Keep a weather eye on the horizon.

Generation Wimp

I always admired my tae kwon do instructor, Master Lorenzo Gibson, for always making us work hard. There were no short cuts. If you didn't have the skills, then you didn't advance to a higher belt. Becoming a black belt at age 9, the youngest ever in our state at the time, is still one of my proudest accomplishments. However, I had a friend named Jared, who for lack of a better term, was basically the runt of our school. He worked hard, was positive, but simply did not possess the physical gifts needed to become a black belt. Our teacher never gave us a free pass because we were owed a black belt, or entitled because of our effort, or how many years we trained. If you couldn't pass the tests, you were held back. Jared never earned his black belt, and in a way, giving him an undeserved rank, would have been a disservice to both Jared, and every other student in our school. I'm glad I had teacher like Master Gibson in my youth, because I don't think their are many like him today. The difference is that we were ALLOWED to fail. No handouts, no bailout, but rather finding unique ways to dust ourselves off from our failure to find success. Success was not a right, or entitlement.

Ah yes, today. Today everybody on the team gets a trophy for participation. That's fine with me, we did it back in the 80's and 90's, and I certainly didn't mind getting all the extra bling as a kid. However, nowadays I hear and see parents getting upset at coaches and teachers for their child's poor performance. I'm not sure who is supposed to be raising kids these days. Is it the teachers, the coaches, or the.....dare say....parents!? If the kid sucks at sports, blame the coaches for not doing a better job. If the kid struggles in school, blame the teachers for not coddling to their inability to focus and take their education seriously. Not to sound old, but back in my day when I did poorly in school, it meant there would be a parent/teacher meeting, and I was getting reamed out later on by my dad first, then my mom. But, it always made me take things more seriously and sooner than later I worked to improve. Maybe it's wired in my personality, or maybe I am the tail end of a dying generation of youth that was taught to work hard for success. Parents today, 60% of which will divorce between ages 38-45, seem to be so focused on their two income households, that they spend significantly less time focused on their kids. With all the equality struggles and fighting over gender roles in marriage, I find it unsurprisingly ironic that parents are failing to define any role, or identity in their households. I hate to say it, but today's parents are wimps. People are getting married without understanding the weight of their marriage vows. Marriage today almost seems like the equivalent of dating, but with bigger repercussions. We are told, if you are unhappy, divorce. But, I digress. Or, do I?

I don't think it's always the parenting. Technology and pop culture are all about what we deserve. What is rightfully ours. Me, me, me ME! What's in it for ME? We seem to communicate more through our technology then we do face to face. I believe we are on the verge of seeing a collapse in interpersonal relationship because of the great technological divide. How ironic is it that in a world where we can communicate instantly on a mass scale, that we have a harder time talking with someone one on one? Let's face it, how awkward would it be to sit in a doctor's office waiting lounge if there were no TV's or magazines to kill the time? God forbid we acknowledge the other people in the room, or elevator, or coffee shop. Everything from facebook to twitter focuses on instantaneous response time. It can be a great tool, but the speed at which we can acquire things, I believe, is making us less patient and more high strung. We are a nation literally wired to our mobile devices, caffeine, and non stop instant gratification. We are impatient with the speed of our computers, we rush relationships, we lose the ability to calmly work through things with deeper levels of introspection and relational building. Our society world view ultimately comes down to two questions these days. What's in it for me? Is it convenient?

Today is a generation of wimps, and I'm not afraid to say it. Kids from age 1 to young adults my age. It's just amazing to think as our technology has progressed, our humanity has proportionately regressed. Back in the 1800's visiting a friend 200 miles away meant a one week wagon ride. You probably mailed a letter a few months before, they rsvp'd (like anyone does that now), you traveled at the risk of losing your finest oxen, then your visit may last for weeks, or months. Dinner was at a table, and late night conversation was by a fire. There weren't people texting in the middle of a conversation, or checking work e-mails during a meal. There was value in having somebody with you, and even if you didn't like them, you couldn't just block them, or unfriend them. You had to deal with them, and even if it meant a duel at high noon, you at least didn't avoid interaction. People lacked diversions from other people, and they had no other choice than to be intentional and focused on the people they were with. Now it seems people yearn some form of distraction because of how uncomfortable they feel interacting. People show up to cocktail parties hoping to God there is a cute puppy to play with, or Wi-Fi access. Lord, please let there be Wi-Fi, I don't know how to talk with these people!

I think the baby boomers might have truly bean the last generation that was raised in the nonconformity of the technological era. Baby boomers themselves were raised by war hardened parents who believed in rolling up their sleeves and going to work. It was a time when everyone wore suits to sporting events, Sunday was truly a day of rest, and 30 year olds looked like how 45 year olds today look. I think my grandparents would look at today's youth and smack them in the face. They'd laugh at our first world problems, which have recently driven people to the brink of madness. But, they wouldn't be surprised how kids, and young adults, can't seem to work through tough times, or even times that really aren't that tough, they just haven't lived through truly tough times to know the difference. People are having tantrums because their internet is slow, or because starbucks is out of their favorite coffee. My heavens! How do you endure? During world war two, my grandfather was on a boat (the HMT Rohna) where 1138 troops died on November 26, 1943. But, you never heard him use that as an excuse in life. No, his generation dealt with unimaginable circumstances and went on to their careers and families. My grandpa would not have given a crap about the fact your little iphone dropped a call.

It's no wonder we have a growing number of anti social youths committing suicide at alarming rates, and why every day it seems like there is another violent mass shooting. Society want to point the finger at gun control, and video games. But in the end, it's like the parent blaming the coaches and teachers. We never want to dig down to the root of our struggles, because we don't want to acknowledge the truth. We are a society of weak people in need of deeper intervention. We think duct taping the dead branches back on will be a quick fix. Sure, and if you paint the tape green the tree might actually pass for being completely healthy. That is until the next powerful storm comes along. And if the winds are strong enough, that duct taped tree will get ripped from the ground.

The Marathon Project

You could say that my beginnings in the world of running, were, well, a bit unusual. Most people start off with 5k and 10k races, and eventually work their way up to the marathon. Then, after they have conquered the marathon some decide to venture on even furthur by tackling ultramarathon distances ranging from 30 to over 100 miles. Per usual, I did not take that approach.

I began my running life with ultras. In a matter of one day, my longest run ever went from 6 miles to 50 miles. Okay, okay, it was more like 50 miles of jogging and walking, and mostly walking. The bottom line is that as my endurance for ultramarathons grew, I was only ever gaining endurance. I was never actually getting any faster. I learned to run steady 9-11 minute miles long before I had ever attempted to run anything fast. In other words, my approach to running was completely backwards.

As a sophomore in highschool, I ran a timed mile of 8:30 in gym class. Later that year, at age 15, I improved my mile time to a 7:30. Some of my cross country friends were already regularly running 5k's in the 17-18 minute range, but for me it was the first time I had ever run a sub 8 minute mile. Then, during my senior year I decided to sign up for the indoor track team in order to get in shape for spring sports. After several months on the "B" squad, I notched personal best of 1:03 for the 400m dash, 26 seconds for the 200m dash, and 7.0 for 55m. All in all, the statistics were fairly pedestrian given that the top 400m runner in our school could run it in 48 seconds. Just after track ended, I decided to once again run a timed mile, and clocked a personal best 6:27. My first ever sub 7 minute mile. Pretty darn fast for me, but the reality was it was almost a minute slower than my buddy, who ran a 5:38 in the district track meet....and he finished nearly dead last.

Since my 6:27 mile in 1999, I have virtually stayed away from faster running efforts in order to enjoy the slower pace of ultras. Ultras, for a long time, seemed to promote the tortoise vs the hare mentality. I could comfortably run my 10 minute miles and almost be viewed as one of the "faster" runners. However, this is far from the case anymore, as faster marathoners with last names like Canaday, King, Wardian, Riddle, Bitter, Braje, etc. are crossing over and averaging 6 minute miles for 50 miles. I'm even seeing a huge increase in the number of guys and gals who are running 50k's at my 5k pace. While I will always consider myself a middle of the pack hobby runner, and yes running has always just been a hobby, I still desire to prove to myself that I have room for improvement. That's when I realized the harsh reality that my insecurity for trying to run faster, was the one thing really holding back my progress.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE mountain and forest trails more than any other running surface. I love being outside, and being with nature, but my competitive side acknowledges that my lack of road running is why only my endurance has improved, and not my speed. I also think that's why my 100 mile times have improved, but I haven't PR'ed anything 50 miles, or less in a few years. In being honest with myself, I have sometimes used ultras as a safety blanket, or excuse for why I don't dare run on roads. Afterall, I am humbled, almost embarassingly so, that some people in the local ultra community view me as a "front of the pack" runner. This is no doubt a result of having had some brief success at very small, low key, local ultra events with non competitive fields. However, put me in a local 5k, Boston Marathon, or Western States, and you'll see I'm just another average runner. There are middle schoolers who would crush me in a 5k, and I need to realize that it is perfectly ok.

In 2008, I ran my first timed mile since highschool on a cold and windy winter afternoon. At the time, my running "resume" included a 22:47 100 mile finish, a 9:31 50 mile finish, and a host of other ultra finishes. However, after four laps around the local track I paused my watch and was humbled at reading the time. 6:55. Fear realized, I was not fast. One year later, after a few months of track workouts, I attempted the timed mile once more. Once again, after four hard laps I hit the pause button on my watch. Surely it was going to say something like 5:50, maybe even 5:40ish. Not even close.....a 6:16. All that speed work, and it was a lousy 11 second PR over my best mile from freaking highschool. Uggghhh!

I know now that I must let go of my insecurity with speed, and just wrap my mind around improving. Road running is a whole new beast, and strangely I am looking forward to embracing the challenge that comes with it. Road running is a different mind set, even a different sub culture, but is no less awkward than how ultras felt in the beginning. Along with overcoming my fear of appearing slow, I must also overcome the idea of actually running a marathon at full effort. I have only ever run marathons for fun, or as a pacer, because deep down I knew running one at max effort would probably hurt more, in a different way, than any ultra I have ever done.

Now that I finally have my eyes set on a fall marathon, I am trying to establish a flexible goal for a finish time. I serisously have no idea what a realistic goal time would be. My Boston Qualifier is a sub 3:05, but I honestly don't think that's in my reach at the moment. In 2008-2009, I probably did the most road running of my life due to being a part of the Reston Runners. In that time I ran the Marine Corps Marathon casually in a Halloween costume and just barely finished under 3:30 (3:29:45 to be exact). I often look back and think that was probably my best opportunity, from a speed standpoint, to qualify for Boston, but I chose to have fun instead. The next year, in 2009, I ran the very cold innaugural Three Bridges Marathon after completing two 50k's and two 50 milers in the six week prior to the race. I ran feeling banged up from the previous races and survived for a 3:33 finish time, and yet it was now my second fastest marathon. Since then, I have only ever paced people in marathons, all ranging from 4:00 to 4:44 times. Mental game score; marathons 1, Mike-0

Last weekend, after an injury filled winter, and two very quick race DNF's, I chose to run the local Instant Classic trail marathon. Like always, I decided last second to run it, though not knowing if my foot was even remotely better from my Graveyard 100 DNF(a stress fracture scare). If anything, I just wanted to finish a darn race and finally gauge a starting point for the rest of the year's running objectives. I can't say the day started off the best. My alarm did NOT go off at 5am, but instead I frantically awoke at 6:45am for a 7:45am race. I had no time to eat the big breakfast I had planned, so I opted to eat two of the five gels I packed for during the race. Not the "breakfast" I had hoped for, but better than nothing. The race itself was actually very enjoyable. The trails were a little muddy due to the chilly rain, and the course was relentlessly hilly, though pretty flat in comparison to the usual trail ultra. The only real glitches of the day were my severe bonk from about mile 21 to the finish and running a couple extra minutes after missing a turn. I know, I know, Mike missed a turn. In other news fire is hot. Several runners missed the same one, so I don't feel too bad. In a weird way, I'm glad my lost time was due to the impending bonk, and missed turn, and not lack of fitness. I'm 100% certain if I had eaten a normal breakfast and had the two extra gels saved for later in the race, I would have run the last six miles about 5-6 minutes faster. Anyway, I finished in 3:44, and very realistically believe I could have been closer to 3:36 sans bonk and missed turn.

So, I would say the state of my fitness going into the next six months of mixed preparation for a fall marathon, is that I am roughly a 3:36 marathoner on hilly, but groomed single track and forest trails. Obviously trails run a bit slower than roads, but I really don't know by how much. The consensus for this 3rd year event is that people are saying that they ran 10-20 minutes slower than their usual road marathon times. I guess depending on your hill running ability, or trail running, the range could be very different for folks. With ZERO speed work in over the past year, I'd say I'm pleasantly surprised with where things are. Does this mean six months from now I will be capable of something faster? I really don't know, and that's sort of the fun thing about it. Im clueless when it comes to road running. I will still be running ultras between now and then, and I need to stay healthy and need to stay motivated. But, we all know life can change month to month and year by year. If it comes down to brass tacks, just finishing will be the name of the game.

Stuff in the Basement: Graveyard 100, Round 2

(photo credit Russ Carawan and RacENC)

"Hey Rock. It takes guts climbing back in that ring knowing you're going to take a beating. Yo Rock....You're gonna do alright Rocko. There's stuff in the basement."

Eleven months ago I finished the innaugural Graveyard 100 in the Outer Banks. My body hurt more after Graveyard than other other race I have finished. My feet were swollen from pounding 101.2 miles of pavement. My teeth were chattering like castanets from being exposed to mid 30's temperatures and a constant wind. My mind was drained from gazing upon miles and miles of endless route 12 road. I told myself I was never going to run the Graveyard 100 again. Apparently, I lied. In two weeks I will step back in the ring for another round with the long lonely shoreline of the OBX.

I've always been a huge fan of the Rocky movie franchise, and as we are now fourteen days away from the Graveyard 100, the quote from above rings truer than ever. For those not familiar with the film Rocky Balboa, potentially the final movie in the series, the quote is from a short dialogue between Rocky and his often troubled brother in law Paulie. An old retired and recently widowed Rocky is coming out of retirement for possibly the last fight of his career. He knows he's rusty, decades beyond his physical prime, and knows he doesn't stand a great chance against the younger stronger opponent. He knows time is not on his side and that he's going to have to dig deep in order to go the distance. He has to find "the stuff in the basement", and if he does, only then will he be fully satisfied with the effort he gave.

Well, I may not be Rocky's age, but I am rusty and have had limited time to run the past six months. Thankfully, I seem to be mostly recovered from all the injuries that built up from September through January that prevented me from maintaining much of my fitness from 2012. I have some how managed to get in about a month of relatively consistent, though still fairly low intensity and low volume training. All my longs runs have had an average pace of 10:00 to 13:00 minutes per mile, and thus my speed is pretty much non existent these days. In all honesty, anything faster than a nine minute mile is probably too fast, so again, lack of speed isn't so much an issue as is conditioning for the distance. Like Rocky, I have had to revert to going completely old school in my training and methodology. No track workouts, no tempo runs, no 100 mile weeks, just grinding out the long stuff at a slow and steady pace.

If I am going to finish the Graveyard 100, I too will need to find the stuff in the basement. I'm not in the shape I was in last year, but I have valuable experience going in. Let's take a look at last year and see what I did right, and what I did wrong.

What I did right:

1. Not much, but my training leading up to Graveyard was solid, and eventually building up to some 90 mile weeks. Too bad I squandered good training with a poor strategy.

2. Kept my nutrition and hydration pretty good during the race.

What I did wrong: Everything

1. Went out too aggressively. Led through the mile 38.6 water stop before being passed by the eventual winner. Ran splits of 2:44 through 19.9 miles, 3:45 through the marathon, 4:22 through 50k, and 4:35 through 32.7 miles. Way too fast for a 100 miler, but it was tough earned lesson in realistic pacing. FYI, it was a projected sub 14 hour pace. Legs got too trashed too early which caused me to slow down way sooner than expected. End result, epic blowup, finish time 20:28.

2. Did not use a crew. This meant I had to carry all my clothing and nutrition in a pack for the 18-25 mile durations between full aid stations. Carrying the extra weight took its toll over the course of the race.

3. Did not pack warm enough clothing. My body got very cold after mile 80, and really prevented me from getting my legs moving much for the remainder of the race.

4. Did not take care of blisters early. Again, the blisters started forming, and I was still 15 miles from the next place to fix them. When I got there, they didn't have anything to fix blisters like duct tape, body glide, or vaseline. My feet were too wrecked to even jog after mile 80. Lack of running meant I got cold quicker and easier which led to even slower walking. In fact, lack of any running/jogging after mile 80 probably cost me over an hour.

5. Missed a waterstop. Some of the main water stops were not set up when I ran through, and therefor only gallon jugs of water were put out. I actually missed one completely and had to run backwards on the course a quarter mile to refill.

This year the game plan is to be smarter than last year, which shouldn't be tough. Looking back at last year's splits it's crazy how fast I went out. That 4:22 50k split was actually a personal best (which is never ever good to do during a 100). Factor in wearing about six pounds of gear, spending six minutes at the water stops, I was probably running low eight minute miles for the first third of the race. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This year, I will be uncrewed again, but hopefully plan ahead a little better.

On another note, this year's event has drawn some of the biggest names in ultrarunning, including Valmir Nunes, Mike Morton, Jonathan Savage, and Connie Gardner. This means the 2013 Graveyard will host two of the fastest Badwater champs of all time, a Western States champion, two American 24 hour record holders, and three members of the US 24 hour team. Every name mentioned above is capable of breaking 15 hours, and most likely 14, and dare say 13 for Morton. My one regret is that I will be hours behind and won't be able to watch this incredibly talented field. There are also several other very exciting names in the mix including Brad Smythe, Olivier Leblond, and Marie Ange Smith. Jan Erick Olsen, who battled Brenda Carawan for first place in the later miles last year, is back to avenge his mile 90 DNF. Andrei Nana (2nd last year) is another returner who has recently taken the 100 mile running scene by storm, as well as last year's female open winner Kelley Wells. All in all, it should be an exciting day, and depending on what the weather decides, we could be in for one wild ride.

As for me? I don't have any real goals, other than to finish. Hopefully, I can break 24 hours again. I still plan on putting everything out there and to do my best, regardless of where my fitness may.

Ultra Numero 75

It doesn't seem long ago that I was cruising the trails with Bill Gentry en route to his 100th ultramarathon finish, and my 50th. Both milestones occurred on the same day, at the same race, an incredibly hot and humid Catherine's Furnace 50k. It was July 2010. Heat index 105 degrees.

My 50th ultra seems like forever ago in some respects, but also like yesterday in others. There have been so many variables over the last several years regarding work, health, social life, and other time commitments, that you can never take for granted all that you have already done. Life doesn't guarantee a tomorrow, no less something as trivial as another ultramarathon finish. You simply have to take time to appreciate every single event as something of value and meaning. No race is ever pointless, nor is any ultramarathon ever just another ultra. I've learned over the years that it doesn't matter if you have one ultra finish, or 600, that each individual step in a 31 to 100+ mile odyssey has a significance. One step forward is always one step further than where you ever were.

Two and a half years after my 50th ultra, and 8 years after my first, I arrived at the 2013 Holiday Lake 50k in hopes to complete number 75. The day was the perfect way for me to celebrate the community of runners and volunteers who have gotten me as far as I have. My pace did not matter, my time did not matter, and my placing did not matter. Setting aside all the things that did not matter allowed me to truly enjoy the things that did matter. I got a chance to catch up with friends and run with people I rarely get a chance to run with. I also got to spend some time talking to the wonderful volunteers, instead of the usual dropping in for a few seconds, saying a quick thanks, and taking off. In 2007, I ran Holiday Lake for the first time and didn't know any other runners, and awkardly ate my pre-race meal and post race meal with little conversation. It's nice to know that the years have turned some of those unknown faces from the dinner table into established friendships.

Those friendships and familiar faces were common place on the trails Saturday, and noticed a lot of the smaller nuances of the trail that I admittedly overlook too often. I ran with friends Tim Cohn, Jim Bradford, Jenn Nichols, Jim Ashworth, Martha Wright, Stephanie Wilson, Amy Albu, Greg Loomis, Rick Gray, and a host of others who have made the Virginia trails one of the friendliest places to be. In other cases, I only saw folks near the turn around as they were way out ahead of the main pack. I got to witness fellow JMU Duke Matt Bigman nailing an impressive top ten finish. Matt was shortly followed by Guy Love, Emily Warner, the two Ryans(Nebel and Quinnelly), and Marc Griffin. Everybody ran personal bests, which always makes me happy to know the countless miles and hours of hard work are paying off for my friends. Then there were those who came to cheer and support the runners. People like Bill Potts, Tammy Gray, and Sophie Speidel. In culmination, I have literally shared thousands of miles and hundreds of hours on the trails with these folks. The miles went by super quick and the weather was possibly the best I have ever seen at Holiday Lake. If the quality of a day can be measured in miles and smiles, then this, by all measures, was a good day.

At mile 24, I joined up with a runner named Jeff Martin. Jeff was running his first ultra, which seemed so fitting that in a race where I wanted to reflect on my own humble beginnings as a ultrarunner that I would pair up with someone doing their first. Jeff and I got a chance to talk a good bit, and he mentioned his goal of just finishing, and maybe breaking 6:30. With all our talking, it turned out we were actually running a good bit, and possibly even enough to start a realistic push to break 6 hours. While it certainly wasn't easy, Jeff pushed through some cramps and fatigue and ran a good portion of the final miles. With about two miles to go it now looked like Jeff could break 5:50, which would have been 40 minutes faster than his goal time. Pretty soon we passed the "One mile to go" marker and we took off down the final segment of trail and onto the final stretch of pavement. I took a moment to really admire Jeff's spirit as he held nothing back and gunned it down the hill towards the finish. Just a few steps before the finish I moved behind Jeff so he could have sole ownership of his first ultra finish. He blew away his goals by clocking a time of 5:47. It was 43 minutes faster than he expected. I must say, there has always been something special about running with someone during their first race, and something additionally special about seeing them finish. Props to Jeff for really digging deep and having a strong finish worth being proud of.

So, that's pretty much it. Ultra number 75 is in the books. It was a wonderful day of sunshine and trails shared with good company. I don't know when, or if I'll get to ultra number 100. Based on current projections, I "might" get to 100 by the time of my 35th birthday, and maybe even my 34th. It's never been a priority of mine to see how many ultras I can do, or how quickly I can get to a certain total. Now adays, with so many younger folks entering the running scene, I suspect someone else will hit 100 finishes far sooner than 34 years old, which is fine by me. For the time being, however, I have made a personal note to be more thankful for every race I get to start, experience, and finish. Athletes like David Terry, Mike Broderick, and Micah True are reminders that life can be short, even for the strong and healthy.

Run free. Run strong

Mike