Back On My Feet And Headed to Arkansas

     Have we discovered the silver bullet to avoid the frustration and pain of IT-Band injuries?  Doubtful.  But the last couple of weeks have been wonderful for me.  After foam-rolling myself to tears at least once daily, dedicated stretching/yoga every morning, and several hot baths, I was starting to see promise at the end of so much aggravation.  Adam and a couple of other running blogs led me to believe that running fast could thwart the symptoms of my injury that I was sure to experience after only 3 miles of running slow(er).

      I elected to heed these (potentially) wise words and give it a whirl.  Now, I must say, I've never been one for running "fast".  I tend to keep at conversational pace and run around a 7:20 pace for a half marathon.  So venturing into the realm of high-heartrate and jelly-legs was something new for me.  I tried to keep the majority of my workouts below a seven minute pace for a couple of weeks once I discovered the potential that this approach held.  At first I experienced several days of sore calves, as expected, but every workout I noted that my breathing became more controlled and I was able to find a rhythm in my stride and body motion that just made it feel easier.
    
      I took this mentality of speed over sprawl with me out west as Melissa, Luna, and I made our way to Arkansas to celebrate the marriage of my cousin, Matthew, and his new wife, Ana.  I must take this time to insert that I absolutely love my family and family get-togethers are always such a joyous time.

      Anywho, after spending some time in Arkansas and getting to run the trail in Jonesboro a few times (and hopping on the treadmill in the hotel), we took advantage of our time in unexplored territory and elected to do some adventuring in Western Kentucky.  We met up with my dear friend Blake and a new friend, Whitney, and spent the day climbing some relatively unused crags.  It had been a while since any of us had climbed so we did a few 5-8 sport routes and called it quits.

Climbing in Dawson Springs, KY

      Once we arrived back at Pennyrile State Resort Park where we were to camp and I immediately laced up my shoes and grabbed my headlamp for a night run.  The five of us (12 legs) headed down to check out the lake before sunset.  What a gem that park is, and a beautiful time of year to be there.  After playing some rigorous fetch into the lake for at least 30 minutes, I considered myself warmed up to depart on the run.
      This run was a ~4 mile loop around the lake that featured a few hills for the conquering.  It felt absolutely incredible.  Running at night is like that- just using one small headlight to see the ground 5 feet in front of you and simply relying on having faith and strength enough to push off with confidence into the darkness.  I truly felt as though I was riding the wind.

Warm-up Fetch Session

     The next day we started back east, only to stop again two short hours later at Mammoth Cave National Park.  After driving through the fantastic fall foliage across the rising and falling of the never-ending hills, the arrival at the visitor's center left me dumbfounded.  How can a park so beautiful as this, with so many opportunities for camping, hiking, running, biking, and horseback riding,  and the world's longest cave(392 miles of mapped cave, and much more that is in the process of being mapped) be so evidently underfunded and under appreciated (as far as numbers of visitors is concerned).  But, alas, that is the case.  I would encourage anyone that finds themselves in the area to devote a couple of days to it.

The Frozen Niagara Formation

     We took a tour of the cave under the guidance of an incredibly knowledgeable and passionate guide and spent the rest of the day above ground.  Here we, surprise surprise, decided to go on a run to get to see as much of the park as we could in the little time we had.  The first two miles of the run I had great company in Mel and Luna, but then I went ahead to finish the last 6 miles on my own and the two ladies headed back from whence we came.  I ran fast and hard and through discomfort and I loved every second of it.  What a peaceful way to meditate and pray running can be!  My performance on this run left me feeling very confident in my ability to preform well in the FootRx Grand Prix race only five short days away back in Asheville.

Mammoth Cave National Park

  

Running through September

       It is to say that I ran most of the way through September...  After my Vibram Five-Fingers were ripped to shreds in Spain (after only 3 1/2 months use?!) I was overjoyed to return home to a pair of running shoes.

       The weekend following our return to the States was the weekend of the Dupont Waterfall Bonanza!  Neither myself nor Melissa had been training to run much of anything, but after spending a week in Quetico Provincial Park paddling and portaging for up to ten hours a day, we felt adequately prepared to take on the 10 mile option in the beautiful Dupont State Forest.

       The day before, however, we decided to camp out in Pisgah National Forest.  After an afternoon thunderstorm passed I decided to do a time trial up and down the Looking Glass Rock Trail.  After a few months in which injury loomed over me and Vibram Five-Fingers were my only choice for running shoes, it felt absolutely incredible to soar down the side of the hill.  My finishing time was right at 1 hour and 2 minutes for the 6.2 mile up and back.

Looking Glass Rock

       The Waterfall Bonanza the following day was a blast.  As usual its always great to get together with the old friends and new of the WNC Trailrunner crew, and of course to swim in waterfalls.  On this run Melissa almost doubled her longest run distance!  Incredible woman, she is!

Enjoying the Dupont run with Charles and Lily

     After getting such lovely runs under my shoes early in the month, it only made sense that I would keep pushing myself to explore more trails and log more time on my feet.   Unfortunately, after spending many sunrises running with Luna on the Shut-in Trail and several other great runs, I was poised to meet certain disaster...  I can't say that I didn't see it coming after going from zero miles (running) a week for the last three weeks to a week of 45 and a week of 40.  Sometimes its just tough to control your natural instinct when the world is just becoming increasingly beautiful and fall weather is knocking on the doors of your imagination.

Always in good company.

     Needless to say, the IT-Band aggravation that occurred left me unable to run for an undefined amount of time.

III CxM Trail Los Guájares

A long delayed, but much needed blogpost is finally here:

   Los Guájares (if you like maps, follow the link) is a trio of tiny pueblos in the province of Granada, about 40 minutes away from the city of Granada and 15 minutes from the coast.

   There is a remarkable microclimate in Los Guájares which allows tropical fruits to flourish brings a wonderful aroma to the air and sweet delicious foods to the table.  It also means that you can eat very well while running.  There is a river that runs along the valley floor separating the three pueblos.  Rising on all sides are beautiful mountains that have a rugged, jagged appearance.  Once you enter the hills you can find potable water within a couple of kilometers in every direction.  Truly a runners paradise.

    Anyways, I had the pleasure of participating in the third edition of Trail Los Guájares.  This was easily the most well organized, accommodating-yet-simple, beautiful-yet-grueling race I've ever participated in.

    All credit for this goes to Ángel, the race director, and Edith, his partner in crime, who put on a fantastic race and were so gracious as to host us for over a week.  Two of the most interesting and generous people I had the pleasure of meeting in Spain, who are certain to remain our friends for a very long time.

    Ángel, having run in over 150 marathons and ultras in his running career ranging from the NY and Chicago Marathons to the UTMB, has seen more than his fair share of race-dos and race-don'ts and did a fantastic job of throwing together all of the right things to create a race to remember.

    The race itself was a blast!  As I've told many people, I have never run a worse race in my life, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.  I was beyond underprepared for the 22km +1600 meters of elevation gain endeavor after taking a couple of months prior off of running following the Bel Monte 50 miler.  I also contributed, against my better judgement, to my under-preparedness by electing to wear my Vibram-Fivefingers on a course which was technical beyond anything I'd encountered prior.  That is a mistake I will never make again because the trails riddled with rocks and unforgiving sharp plants ripped the so-called running shoes open in four places leading to their permanent demise.

     The beauty of the course was truly indescribable.  The first kilometer wove through the labyrinth streets of the pueblo with folks cheering left and right.  The first exceptionally burly climb came just before kilometer 4.  It wasn't very long, but the steepness made running up it completely impractical.  There were a few climbs for which this was the case.  And as the race wore on,  I had to change my strategy due to the pain in the soles of my feet from running across rocks for two hours.  I suppose it was the beginning of a stone bruise, but running steep downhills landing on gravel time and time again was doing me a lot more harm than good.  I was passed by many many people on the downhills, as I elected to walk them.  After stream crossings, running through more pueblo streets, through groves of almond and olive trees, the race culminated with another monstrous climb and a quick pass by an old Moorish fortress dating back to about 1100 AD(really old).
 
     After the race the entire pueblo(all 300-500 people of it), came together for a pot-luck style party.  The main plaza was packed with people, food, beer, and dogs.  After the award ceremony, in which I was awarded a beautifully painted plate in honor of being the youngest participant and the participant who traveled the furthest(I was the only non-Spaniard).

     The race will be happening again next year, the course changes every year.  I did have the pleasure of hiking next years course and it just might be even more beautiful and even more difficult.  If that doesn't appeal to you there is also an ultra-distance race in the works of about 65-75km.  HERE is a link to some photos of the tentative ultra course which overlaps greatly with both this year's race and next year's, check it out.

    If anyone is planning a trip to Spain in the near future or needs a good excuse to plan a trip to Spain, this is is.  Thanks for reading.
  

Correr por España

Greetings from across the pond.  There is another blog that you can reach by clicking on my picture on the side that will tell you more about whats going on here in Spain and will feature some other pictures.  This, my friends, is all about running.

    On the drive from the trainstation to where we would be staying, we passed a couple of trails marked for walking and I deemed this a fantastic opportunity to bring up a question that had been on my mind since we had first been in contact:  "Are there trails around here I could use for running?", I asked.  "Trails for running?", Caroline, our lovely host replied, "Wherever you see a path, road, trail, olive grove, or whatever, you are welcome to run or hike."  My jaw nearly hit the floor.  Let me paint a picture for you:  Town, olive grove for kilometer after kilometer, town, more olive groves, top of a mountain, olive groves, olive groves, town.  That is pretty much what can be seen from any decent vantage point in the area.  Which means, that it is permissable for me to run ANYWHERE.  There are no barbed-wire fences dividing olive grove from olive grove, no bitter farmers biting at the bit to boot you off their land.  There are just vast tracks of land to be explored. 
     If that is not enough to appeal to all runners, consider this: if, during a run, one grows fatigued and doesn't have a Clifbar or the likes handy, they can quickly grab an olive for nourishment, maybe a fig better suits their taste, perhaps a pomegranate will provide proper refreshment, or maybe they just want to add some life to their water with a fresh squeezed lemon.  Either way, everywhere you go you find yourself surrounded by tasty treats. 

Disfruta...

    In my two mornings here, I've spent about two hours running.  I've enjoyed the complete silence, except for the distant (sometimes close) cries of roosters, the racing of rabbits and hares, the stumbling upon dogs, but above all, racing the sun to the top of the mountain of my choice.
    I am throughly enjoying my surroundings, with the liberty to take any turn I'd like as long as I'm willing to run up a mountain to figure out where, in relation to me, the little white village is situated the groves.  The never-ending hills are proving to be a fantastic training ground for the race I'll be running on the 25th to the south of Granada.

Bel Monte 50 Miler

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…. 

           In the three weeks leading up to Bel Monte I had been plagued with occasional calf pain and a nagging left knee to top it off.  This resulted in my confidence plummeting a few weeks out from race day.  I’ve heard that self deprecation can be the most debilitating of all ailments after the start-gun fires.  Fortunately, a strong run the weekend prior with a great group of runners (Seven Sisters Summit Run) gave me just the spark I needed to rekindle my enthusiasm for my first 50-miler.

            For the four preceding days my mind had not wandered far from the impending challenge.  Though I knew my body capable, I had race expectations and goals in mind that were weighing heavy on me.  Having only raced in a couple of races, none exceeding 13.1 miles, in my year-long running career, the prospect of a race (especially of 10+ hours in duration) seemed daunting amidst my expectations.  In an effort to alleviate this stress I made a trip to Jus’ Running in Asheville, a trip for advice instead of merchandise (its free!!).  Here I stated my goals: a top ten finish and sub 10-hour time.  In reply, I received conflicting words of wisdom.  Emily suggested hanging out on someone’s heels and ensuring that no one got too far away that I couldn’t catch them later.  Dan’s advice, on the contrary, was to gun it, run with the top of the pack and let the phantom footsteps behind me fuel me forward.  Though neither pitch sold immediately in my mind, I left feeling more confident about the race.

We had a hoppin' good time in Charlottesville!

           Friday, the day before the race, Melissa, Luna, and I made our way to Charlottesville.  Upon arrival, we met up with Daniel, a dear friend whose close proximity to the race location had been the deciding factor in electing to run it.    We had a Mellow Mushroom “snack” of pizza and sandwich around 2 and a pre-race pasta dinner around 7:30.  We spent the night with my pseudo-aunt and uncle.  Their beautiful home was located about 35 minutes from the race venue, I can’t thank them enough for their hospitality.  I ended up getting into bed around 10:30, far later than I had hoped. 

            Fortunately, I was able to fall asleep pretty quickly and just as quickly I was awake again.  4:00 was the time, bagels and bananas were the crime.  The next hour flew by and we were off to Sherando Lake Recreation Area.  The time before the race passed in a flash, I missed the pre-race briefing because doodies duties called in the Port-a-Jon line. 

            6:30 struck and Gill and Francesca, the race directors, did a roll-call as everyone stood on top of a dam, headlights shining, running in place to keep warm.  I don’t know where my head was, but I (though standing in the front of the pack with my head practically in the megaphone) didn’t hear my number when it was called and didn’t realize it until the next number was called.  That says something about my state of mind that morning, I was truly living in a dream.

            There were many fantastic runners surrounding me at the start, I had no idea where I would fall into the mix after a few hours passed, but I knew that I was going to work my hardest and enjoy the heck out of it.

            The start was a blast.  I pushed ahead as much as I could on the way off of the dam to ensure that I wouldn’t be stuck behind many slower folks once we hopped on the singletrack.   That proved not to be a problem at all, for the first couple or three miles I was running in second place behind a fellow named Brain (he would go on to run an incredible race and finish 2^nd).  It wasn’t too long before Mark and another fellow scooted past me.

Mile 5, preparing to shed some layers.

            When I arrived at the mile 5 aid station following a pretty solid ~1000ft climb Melissa, Dan, and my dad were psyched to see me briefly as I shed my shirt, gloves, and hat and took off running, met by dumbfounded glances from spectators who informed me that it as only 34 degrees out.  I was felt like I was on top of the world at this point and was told I was running in 4^th place.  Shortly after this aid station I passed a 50k runner and continued with a little bit of climbing before starting on a 6-mile descent to the 13.1 mile aid station.  I was passed by a 50 miler through this section and then matched pace with another 50k runner for the remainder of the descent.  

      This was the third aid station of the day, and became he third one that I passed without receiving any fuel.  It was delightful to see Mel, Dad, Dan, and Luna here, I hoped that their cheers would carry me through the next potentially lonely 24 miles before I saw them again at mile 37.  Mel gave me a mini-Cliff Bar and three gels for this stint.  On my way out of the aid station, the fellow with whom I had been running grabbed my shoulder and said, “Promise me you will slow down, I am the 50k lead right now.  This is your first 50 miler, so you need to pace yourself”.  Thus, I had no hesitation to stop and take a gel and use the restroom about a mile out from the aid station and was no discouraged when I was passed by two 50 milers.

            This section, which was miles 13-17 and miles 33-37 was rolling gravel road.  I found it pretty easy to loose steam during this section but kept trucking.  At the 17 mile aid station the 50-milers take a 5 mile round-trip out-and-back over a little mountain, it makes for a solid 1200 ft of gain.  In this section I was passed for the final time by a guy who thought I was a nut-job for running half naked (he was probably right). 

            I decided that the initial ascent would be a fantastic time to take another gel.  Here is a brief side-note about me and ‘Gu’: I only take the tri-berry flavor.  Why?  Because I’ve never taken another one, so why bother trying?  Anyways, the weekend prior at SSSR Adam had been ranting and raving about the new Cherry-Lime flavor being the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.  Thus, I decided to try one.  I ripped off the lid and injected the packet into my mount only to vomit it back out as soon as it hit the back of my throat.  Thanks, Adam.  I’ll stick with Tri-berry.

This is what we were up against, 11000 ft net gain.

            The out-and-back was comfortable(besides throwing up) and when I reached the aid-station again they praised me for making great time through that stretch.  The next aid station was about five miles away.  Four and a half of which were a steady incline and half a mile of which was a monstrous climb.  I reached the top and wolfed down some snacks, filled the water bottle and plummeted down the mountain.  I was heading back from whence I came(save the 5 mile out-and-back) to meet the crew at mile 37.  This was among my best running of the day, for the next 7 miles I felt completely rejuvenated, running like I had just started.  Then came the gravel road…

           The rolling hills of the gravel road were just unreasonably wearing.  My feet grew tired of the rocks underneath, my body was growing fatigued through and through, but I knew there was food waiting for me… And then a six mile climb…

           I was greeted with cheers and horrahs by many people at the aid station.  I think I appreciated it, but my mind was so focused on the fact that I was standing at the foot of six miles of relentless uphill and that I still had another half marathon to run that I did not express my appreciation very well.  I knew I would be moving slowly up this section, and figured it would probably be best if I put a shirt on.  Mine was unavailable, but fortunately my lovely wife was willing to literally give me the shirt off of her back. 

           I climbed and climbed and climbed, when it finally began to level off I was delighted to find that my muscle memory was so keen that even when my muscles were so fatigued I was able to convince myself that I was running strong.  I grabbed some more food at an aid station with 7 miles to go, and then ran three miles very well.  Then things went downhill, literally.

           I had planned to be able to fly through the last four miles(two down the mountain, two on pavement in the park), but a fall and a couple too many hard steps on my knees rendered me incapable of doing so.  In retrospect, it hurts to think of the minutes that walking two downhill miles must have cost me, but it was a learning experience. 

Not feeling too hot at mile 48.

            The final aid station was two miles out from the finish line, I emerged from the woods with a bloody knee and bloodied here I got my final words of encouragement from my fantastic crew and set off running.  Then groaning.  The feeling in my knees was unprecedented, and I hope it never happens again.  Fortunately, I was able to fall into a groove of sorts and finish the last two miles strong(relative to what could have been).

Finished the run in great company!

            I was given a finishers medal and told that I finished in 9^th place.  The clock read 9 hours and 53 minutes when I crossed the line.  Though the day was incredibly demanding, physically and mentally, I feel like I came away with more than I left out there.  I can’t properly express my gratitude towards the crew:  Melissa, Daniel, my dad, Peter and his friends, Max and Joe; and towards Laura and Ross, who so kindly put up with all of us for the weekend, and of course, to everyone cheering my one from afar.  I very much look forward to running another 50 miler in the near future. 

Dan, Mel, me, Dad, Peter (and Luna), Max, and Joe

            

Mount Pisgah Marathon According to Garmin

Details

A Mount Pisgah Marathon

     I had two main sources of inspiration for embarking on this run:
  1) Spending last weekend in and around the Foothills Trail providing aid for and cheering for the various runners daring enough to pit their strength and wit against the daunting 77-mile Foothills Trail and the wretched weather that greeted them at the starting line.  A display of enthusiasm and effort such as I witnessed never fails to inspire me to soar to new heights- which brings me to my next point...
 2) The seasonal closing of the Blue Ridge Parkway had seriously inhibited my ability to meet my weekly panoramic view quota; and I figured there was no better way to find a view that would suffice than to get to the top of a mountain. Rather, the mountain; the mountain that towers over Asheville beckoning to me each day as I weave through I-240 West traffic.  So Mount Pisgah it would be!

Mount Pisgah appears as the tallest,

most central mountain in this photo.

       The stage was set: start at Bent Creek Gap, 9 miles later catch the sunrise from Mount Pisgah, run back to Bent Creek Gap.  I was able to sell this pitch to Rob Rives as a fun, scenic, not even twenty mile run, with the promise of great times and great weather.
      Rob spent the night with me and Melissa Friday.  Once 5:00 AM rolled around Saturday morning we were up and at 'em finalizing and double-checking the contents of our packs for the journey.  My pack had a phone, camera, four gels, two Clifbars, and a liter of water.  Rob's was packed in a similar fashion featuring his choice energy/protein snacks and about 2.5 liters of water.  The disparity between our water quantities was slightly unnerving to me, and as Rob is a far more experienced ultrarunner than I, I figured I was being foolish and resolved to make my drinks few and far between.
    We arrived at Bent Creek a little after 6:00 only to discover that our passage up to Bent Creek Gap was closed to vehicles due to snow and mud.  We exchanged glances; I mentioned the idea of choosing a different route, dismissed it as quickly as it came, and unanimously concluded that we would be starting from where we were, just up the road from Hard Times Trailhead.  We were getting to Mount Pisgah, and that was that.
     We were off.  It was dark.  It was cold.  It was awesome.  Upon our arrival at Bent Creek Gap the sun's rays were just creeping over the horizon bringing beautiful reds and oranges to counter the still-starry westside of the sky.  The ascent from the car was just under 4.5 miles meaning we'd be taking on an extra (nearly) 9 miles for the day.  The prospect of this was both exhilarating and intimidating.  But Mount Pisgah lay in wait and off we went.

First signs of light.

  
      A few miles later we reached the top of Ferrin Knob.  At the end of the awesome, but burly climb Rob's backside and the surrounding woods took on a brilliant hue of red; I turned around to see the sun peering over what seemed to be the edge of the earth.  Looking southward, Mt. Pisgah was being graced with it's first rays of sunlight; looking northeast, Asheville looked as if it was coming to life.  It looked incredible, the Craggies rising up beyond it and the Blacks towering higher still beyond those.  It was funny to look down and see the host of so many training runs(Town Mountain Rd etc...) appear as but mere moguls on the steady slopes rising beyond the French Broad.

Rob raised the sun up for us...

      I had little trouble conserving water early in the run.  The tube of my water bladder was frozen closed disallowing the consumption of any water for the first 10 miles or so.  I suppose it was a blessing in disguise, however, as when we finally returned to the car I still had water to spare!
  
      We took our time on the run.  We ran and hiked quickly uphills and flew like the wind on the downs.  Our arrival at Elk Pasture Gap pitted us against some serious hills to close the last three miles of our trip out.  The final three miles featured nearly 2000' of elevation gain.  At some point early in these climbs I remember Rob saying, "You know, Anton Krupicka would be running 8:30 miles up this"- talk about a morale booster.
      Regardless, we ran at our speed and made it to the top!  For most of the trail to the summit we found ourselves following a set of footprints.  They looked like a dog's prints, but the owner's prints weren't present.  So I guess we'll never know exactly what animal was responsible for them.  We took our time walking up and down Mount Pisgah, focusing on refueling and rehydrating.  We greeted the summit's platform with whoops and hollars and "Praise the Lords", snapped a photo, and got on our way.  We arrived at the summit after about 3 hours and 9 minutes of running.

The view from the top.

     The run down was a blast.  Few things compare to the feeling of running down a winding trail.  The rush that you feel committing to each step after a mere millisecond's planning, the flush of pain to your palm after you use a tree trunk to swing yourself to the bend in the trail, the submission to momentum as gravity makes you move at speeds and in ways you've never dreamed are all irreplaceable.
      We moved pretty quickly on the way down.  Tightness in Rob's hamstring slowed us a little bit, but on a whole the run was significantly easier due to the elevation loss.  Running back down Bent Creek Rd from the gap was slightly monotonous.  But we made it, at last.  Our goal had been to complete the task in under six hours and we did just that.  We crossed the marathon threshold, completing a total of 27 miles, according to Garmin, and finished 10 minutes before 6 hours.
    This is an adventure that I will certainly replicate in the near future.  Just how fast can we do it?

After a good morning's work, we were ready for lunch.