Surfing Murph

I probably shouldn't have registered for this race, coming as it does just two weeks after running Wild Duluth 100K. I registered for it impulsively after getting an email telling me that the cost of registration was about to increase. At the time I had no idea how beat up I was going to feel after Wild Duluth: if I had, there is no way I would have registered. Maybe the 50K, but not the 50M.

Still, I'm a sucker for October races; it is easily my favorite time of the year for running. Plus, I love doing any race when I can wake up in my own bed, run an ultra, and get back home in time for an evening with the family. So, despite some serious misgivings I got up at 4AM and made the drive out to Burnsville.

My goal was to run sub 10 hours. I knew that this is a relatively fast course, despite the rolling hills provided over the first 5 miles of each 17 mile loop. Plus I ran a 10:07 last year despite some serious foot injury that occurred around mile 40. What I didn't know is if my legs would be recovered enough for me to hold on to the required pace for the entire course. My plan was to run the first loop in 3:20, just fast enough to give me a shot at meeting my goal time, but not too fast that it would burn me out. After that, I would see how my legs felt, either trying to hang on for the 10 hour mark, or slow it down and enjoy the day on the trails.

Things started well. I got through the first hilly section right on pace and picked it up a little bit in the following flat section. I was going a little too fast and slowed it down, intentionally taking more time than needed at the aid stations, and walking even the run-able hills. After the last aid station of the loop, I started getting some pain in my foot in the exact same place I got injured last year. What the what? Was this psycosomatic? Did my brain remember how much I hurt in this section last year, and start sending my phantom signals? Or was this a real overuse injury in the making? After my injury here last year, I couldn't run for six weeks. I did not want to go through that again. I was thinking the smart thing to do would be to just run the 25K and call it a day.

However, I remembered the two things I learned from Wild Duluth. Don't give in when going through a bad spell, and bring your own ibuprofen. Plus, my legs were still feeling pretty good, so I decided to take some vitamin I, and do at least one more loop and see how things were going at that time. I got out of the start/lap/finish aid station at 3:17, just about perfect. As I started heading back through the hills on the second loop my foot was not happy an I was wondering about the wisdom of my decision. Once I finished the hills however, the ibuprofen had kicked in and I was starting to run comfortably again, and at a good pace. Because I didn't spend nearly as much time at the aid stations the second loop, I was to complete it in 3:12.

Still on pace for a sub 10 hour finish, my legs were still feeling good, and my foot problems had been beaten back, I never even considered not doing a third lap. Also, since I was no longer worried about my legs holding up, I pushed through the hills a little harder this time, getting through them faster than either of the first two loops. It was around this point that I started to experience a little of that elusive feeling known as the runner's high. I felt as if my head were filled with helium, just floating above the trail: connected to my body by a string, but barely aware of how hard my body was working.

I usually don't run fast or far enough for the endorphin rush that causes these feelings. In ultras I run too slow, and when I'm going fast enough it is only in shorter runs. I enjoyed the feelings of well being and positivity, but became concerned of the inevitable crash. I tried to zero in on a pace that would allow me to keep feeling good, but avoid a burnout. Fortunately, I found this pace and glided through the final in loop in 3:06 and finished in 9 hours and 36 minutes.

It was a great day for running, and really enjoyed the less technical terrain that allowed me to run most of the way. The volunteers were awesome and the aid stations well stocked. It really is a great way to end the season. I did hear some people had missed some turns, got lost, and did some extra distance. This led to some griping by those involved, but really, I had no problems and am not sure where the confusion occurred.

Wild Duluth 100K

The Wild Duluth Races have to be among the most beautiful in the Midwest. That's saying a lot, as there are some really beautiful races in these parts. They are also very well organized, have great volunteers, and some pretty sweet bling. The hoodies for the 100K participants are especially nice this year; and my finisher's beanie is going to worn proudly all winter. If you haven't run this race yet, put on your calendar for next year.

My own race was nearly over almost as soon as it began. Things started well enough, a lovely, crisp fall morning with a nearly full moon lighting the still dark sky, perfect for running. About half a mile in, things start to get interesting with a pretty good climb up the Superior Hiking Trail to Engen Park. It was here that I took my first of what would be many falls on the day. At first glance, it wasn't a bad fall. In fact, I caught myself on the way down and was up before I fully hit the ground. However, it was just enough to start an episode of piriformis syndrome that would haunt me for the next 20 miles.

What is piriformis syndrome? The piriformis muscle is one of the gluteal muscles that runs behind the hip joint. It happens to run right past the sciatic nerve. This proximity means that if the piriformis muscle spasms, the sciatic nerve becomes strangled, resulting in pain throughout the hip area and down the back of the legs. And I am talking biting a bullet to avoid screaming pain. Piriformis syndrome is not uncommon in runners, due to their often tight hip adductors and weak abductors. I have had piriformis syndrome off and on for a couple years, though it has been a few months since I have had an episode. Well, it turns out that the little fall I had, combined with the cool of the early morning, was enough to start some muscle spasms in my piriformis.

This began a downward spiral that I couldn't escape from. The spasms and pain dramatically reduced my range of motion in my stride. This decrease in my range of motion meant I was much more likely to fall on the very technical trail I was covering. So I would fall, which would set off another bout of spasms, which decreased my range of motion even more, which....well, you get the idea. I tried stretching, I tried walking, I tried relaxing through visualization. At the 8.8 mile aid station I got a butt massage from one of the volunteers who was a licensed physical therapist. I told you they had awesome volunteers! Each of these helped, but only until I tried running again.

Honestly, if I hadn't just DNFed at Sawtooth, I would have dropped in the first 10 miles. I was frustrated, nearly in tears with pain, and unable to get out the negative loop. I decided to keep going only because I knew it would be good mental training for my next attempt at Sawtooth. However, due to my walking, my breaks for stretching and massages, I was at the very back of the pack. This didn't bother me in itself, but was afraid I would make the 50K cutoff of 9 hours. At around mile 17 I saw my River Falls running buddy, Jenny, who was running the 50K. She noted that I was at the back, said she was worried about me and asked if I needed anything. I asked if she had any ibuprofen, she did and gave me four which I downed instantly. Within a couple miles I was feeling better. My range of motion was back and I could run without pain. She absolutely saved my race.

The trail gets much less technical from the 20 mile aid station to the turn around. I was feeling good finally, and had the advantage of not having worked very hard at all for the first 20 miles. I picked up my pace and began steadily passing other runners. I also started to make up some time on my watch, and over the next 22 miles felt like I was flying down the trail. I even took another fall around mile 35, but it didn't start any spasms, so yay!

By the time I got back to the climb up Ely's peak, around mile 42, I had nearly worn myself out. Still I was able to keep pushing pretty well, and wanted to get as many miles in as I could before night fall. I made it to about 50 miles by sunset. The last 12 miles were pretty much a power walk. Any time I tried to run, I would trip over some unseen root or rock, and decided it just wasn't worth the effort. Others must have been having the same problem, as while I wasn't passing people any more, I also wasn't being passed. Well, until the last mile or so. At this point a couple passed me and ended up finishing 5 minutes ahead of me. There is no way I could have run that last mile 5 minutes faster, they must have been flying. They sure flew past me.

The sweet finish! Met and congratulated by Kim and Andy, the race directors, and presented with my finishers beanie. What a great moment. I ended up finishing in 16 hours and 22 minutes, a full 8 minutes faster than I had predicted to my wife. They way things started, I didn't think there was a chance of that happening, so I was very happy with that time. It was good enough for 21st out of 57 starters and 45 finishers. 

My night wasn't over, though. I didn't want to pop for another night at the hotel, and anyway, I had promised my mom and dad a ride to the airport early Sunday morning. My reward for being done running for over 16 hours, was a three hour drive back to River Falls.

Two days later, my feet are still swollen and I still can't walk down stairs without holding on to the railing, but I am recovering and looking forward to 50 miles at Surf the Murph in less than two weeks.

I learned a lot this race: always carry ibuprofen, don't quit when things are bad early, and to start strengthening exercises for my abductors, and stretches for my adductors. I don't want to ever go through that again.

Paleo Diet Blood Test

Several months ago I realized that I was getting too many of my calories from refined starches (think pasta, rice, potatoes, etc.) and, as I am wont to do, decided to go overboard in the other direction. This led me to what is commonly referred to as the Paleo Diet. This is essentially a version of the more general low carbohydrate diet - except that certain low glycemic fruits and most vegetables are allowed and encouraged.

I noticed two things that corresponded with this dietary switch; I lost about 15 lbs and I no longer had the energy I needed to do my long runs. I can't say for certain that either was a direct result of the dietary change, but I suspect this was the case for both. I would go back to a starch rich diet the day before a race, but that was normally the only time I would stray. The only supplements I take are a daily multi-vitamin and some fish oil pills.

A couple weeks ago I went in to see my doctor, and he ordered a fasting blood test. Below are the results.

Mostly good; glucose is fine, HDL is outstanding, and triglyceride levels are nice. The problem of course is the LDL,  the low density lipoproteins, more often known as the "bad cholesterol".

I am not sure what to think of this. Normally, I don't think that dietary cholesterol really effects blood cholesterol much, except in a small portion of the population. Am I in that small portion? I had been eating lots of cholesterol as of late, mostly in eggs, but also in other not so lean meats as well.

My blood tests came with a note from my doctor that he wants to discuss these results with me. I know he will want to put me on a statin drug. I am very resistant to this idea and plan to ask for another six months before doing another blood test.

In that time I will be moderating my diet again. I will cut back on the eggs and most offensive meats, and start adding back some healthy grains. Actually, I have already started doing this in the last ten days or so. In that time my weight has stayed the same, and I have gotten in three long runs. Including 20 yesterday at Afton State Park, and 24 today on my favorite trail, the Whitetail Ridge Trail in River Falls. Stay tuned.

A Return to Training

It's been over a year since I have done any training. I've done plenty of running, but no training. For the past year I would run based on feel. If I felt like trail running, I would. If I felt like doing a tempo run, I would. I never felt like doing a long run that wasn't part of a race, so I didn't. It's been over a year since I thought about a running plan and followed through with it.

I know that in order to finish Sawtooth next year that will need to change, and it already is, but only sort of.

I have signed up for the Wild Duluth 100K in three weeks, so for now my running is more based upon preparing for that. This weekend I ran 10 miles on Saturday, and 21 on Sunday (even though I didn't feel like it!). It's been only two weeks since my aborted attempt at Sawtooth, and my legs aren't fully recovered. Next weekend, I am hoping to get in a pair of 20+ runs on the trails. After that I will begin to dial it down in preparation for the 100K.

After Wild Duluth I will probably take a couple of weeks off and then, starting in November, I will be starting a three month training segment designed to improve my speed and strength. More on that later.

Sawtooth Recap

You already know that this ended early for me, at the Finland Aid station, after about 51 miles.

I would like to tell you that I had to drop because the heat got to me, but that would be disingenuous. Some people did legitimately drop due to the heat, and for sure the heat took its toll on me, but the truth is I handled the heat pretty well. I went out slow and drank A LOT, so I stayed pretty well hydrated, all things considered.

I would like to tell you that I dropped because my shin got so bad I couldn't move, but that wouldn't be true either. To be sure, this also took its toll, and I was visibly limping by the time I got to Finland. Maybe I should have dropped because of my shin; even today it is noticeably swollen relative to my other leg, and is quite sore to the touch. In fact, I am starting to think that I should see my physician to rule out compartment syndrome. If it is compartment syndrome, it is a good thing that I did drop. Still, the truth is, that is not why I ended my race early.

I would like to tell you that I dropped due to stomach issues. This would simply be a lie. My stomach was feeling fine. I was eating and keeping it down. No problems at all here. In fact, I was generally feeling good all over. I was in a good mood, enjoying the night run. My legs were sore, but not more than I expected, and not so sore that I couldn't go on.

The truth is I dropped because I wasn't prepared, physically or mentally, but especially mentally. Credit goes to Matt and Scott for calling me out on this early. Seeing that I registered for the race with kind of a "why not?" mentality, they worried that I wouldn't have the desire to finish. In retrospect, this should have been obvious to me as well. I also wasn't prepared physically, but even this was a result of my poor mental preparation.

Let me explain. In 2011, I haven't done a single training run of longer than 12 miles. I did a number of races, from marathons to 50 miles, and called these training runs. The reason I did my "training runs" as races, however, was that I just didn't have the gumption to get up and go for a long run on my own. I could do it with the support of the race volunteers and the company of my fellow runners, but not on my own. The bottom line is that I just didn't want to run long unless it was part of a race. This did not serve me well.

I ended up getting to Finland at about 12:40 AM on Saturday morning, an hour and 20 minutes before the cutoff. I had been slowly significantly. Between Country Road 6 and Finland I had been passed by at least a dozen runners. Those runners were walking, of course, but were walking much faster than I was. This was the lack of physical preparation. The ruggedness of the Superior Hiking Trail was getting to me, and I was staggering along. In fact, I kept falling off the boardwalks. Between my limp and my stagger, I just didn't have the balance to stay on. Good thing it was dry!

By the time I got to Finland I was convinced that I had to drop. I honestly never even considered it a choice. There was only an hour and 20 minutes until the cutoff, and I was slowing down significantly. Ha. Now that the preliminary results are out, I see that there were at least a dozen runners who got to the aid station after me, and went on to finish. There was a choice, but I couldn't see it at the time.

I stuck around at the finish the next day, at least twice as sore as I've been after any other 50 mile run I had done this year, to watch the 100 milers come in. I found it incredibly inspiring to watch the last runner come in, minutes before the 38 hour cut off, and just barely in front of the sweeps. As impressive as it is to see someone run across the finish in just over 24 hours, it is much more inspiring to see the people who stuck with it, despite being just under the cutoff all along the way. Wow.

I'm glad I switched from the  50 to the 100. Despite the fact that I ended up only running 50, and having to pay an extra $110 for the honor. I got to see the first half of the course, but more importantly, I now at least have an inkling of what it will take to prepare for my second attempt, and first finish, in 2012. I am now inspired and will be doing those long lonely runs throughout the year in preparation.

Sawtooth Spoiler

A recent study out of the UCSD Psychology Department concluded that readers enjoy the story most when they know the ending first.

So, with your increased enjoyment in mind, dear reader, I am giving away the ending of my Sawtooth 2012 story. I dropped at the ceremonial midway point, the Finland aid station.

You'll have to wait for the story itself.

Sawtooth Strategy

I spent the better part of my Labor Day thinking about and planning for my race this weekend. Much of this has been menial tasks like prepping my drop bags, predicting arrival times at aid stations for my crew (my wife, Ruthie, bless her heart), and packing.

Some of my time has also been spent on visualizing how I will handle certain race day decisions: some inevitable, some avoidable.

Unavoidable events that will NOT cause me to drop:


1) Pain. This one falls into the inevitable category. I can't imagine anyway at anytime that I could cover 102.6 miles on the Superior Hiking Trail without experiencing a good deal of pain. It would just be wrong of me to register for a race that will definitely cause pain and then drop out when the pain comes. I recently read Marshall Ulrich's account of his transcontinental run. In it he compares ultra running to a climb up Everest he once made. During the climb, one of the Russians in his team was ostracized for complaining about cold fingers. You don't climb Everest and complain about cold fingers. You don't run ultras and complain about sore legs. This includes my shin splints, by the way, which are getting better everyday.

2) Emotional lows. This is really just a type of pain, isn't it? It's also inevitable. The key is to recognize that this is a low point and is likely to be followed by an emotional peak. Unlike the pain, the low points will go away eventually.

Avoidable events that WILL cause me to drop.


1) An acute injury: severely sprained ankle, broken leg, concussion, that sort of thing. These are unlikely, but could happen, especially on the Superior Hiking Trail. If there is an ambulance there to take me away, I will drop.

2) Missing a cutoff time. Hopefully I won't encounter this problem, but if I miss a cut off time, I will respect the race rules and drop out. My predicted race times are hours away from the posted cut off times. If this does happen it is because something has gone seriously wrong.

Avoidable events that MAY cause me to drop.


1) Heat related problems such as dehydration or hyponatremia. It looks like Friday at least will be relatively warm. I've seen highs for the area reaching 80. I'm not too worried as most of the course is well shaded, and I'm hopeful that the dew point, at least, will be reasonable. Either way, this is an avoidable problem and I will be very cautious of it. At the first signs of problems, I will chill out at an aid station until I get back to where I should be. Of course, that could lead to missing a cutoff time.

2) Stomach issues. This could be a problem. I've not done a 100 mile race before, and don't know how my stomach will handle it. I've heard horror stories from others. The good news is my stomach is usually pretty solid as long as I'm not going too fast or working too hard. I'll eat early and go slow. Again, if this problem does occur, I plan on using my time at an aid station to solve it.

Are they any other potential issues I'm not thinking of? Please let me know.