The old man running the Old Man 50k

Saturday morning found me mingling with a decent sized group of runners at the Granite Mountain Trailhead in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve. Each year, Michael Miller hosts a 50k(-ish) run near his home in North Scottsdale, an area I don't get to run very often. Ok, so I've never been there, but I was excited to get to run with friends on some new trails. After some course instructions from Mike, and the obligatory group photos, we started off.

It's only been two weeks since the Old Pueblo 50 mile mud run, but I was feeling pretty good. I had come away from OP50 with no injuries or pains worth noting, but only four days after, on a slow recovery run, my right foot behind my 5th metatarsal started screaming at me. I did the standard RICE procedure, included my 3-6-3 NSAID regimen, and the pain seemed to be completely under control. This morning was no different, but there was some stiffness in that spot when I woke up.

The run started off great, and I settled into an easy pace with Jon Roig. The miles always pass quickly with Jon around – he's great at keeping a good conversation going. The trail hadn't been undersold as it undulated and wound through some spectacular desert scenery. The constant ups and downs did make it a little more difficult to settle into a constant pace, but I wasn't pushing it, and I focused on cadence and effort more than pace alone.

After several miles, Jon decided to take it a little easier and I ended up catching up to Grandpa Jim (and re-catching Lauren and Larry(?)) at Cathedral Rock. We all briefly stopped there to consult our maps. After my experience at OP50, I had decided to carry both the maps and the written instructions in my pack (there is no flagging at Old Man 50k). I pulled out my map and Jim and I both concluded that we needed to continue on past Cathedral Rock and continue making rights on the trail which would eventually take us to the Brown's Ranch Trailhead (Aid station).

Jim and I ran together for a few more miles, consulting the map as we went and negotiating some confusing turns, but we figured we were going the right way. When we suddenly saw Nick Coury running toward us, I just assumed he was on loop 2 and we were just crossing paths. He said he was on loop 1 and that we were going the wrong way. He didn't stick around long, but Jim and I figured that even though our mileage was close, we would continue down the trail the way we were going until we found the next marker. That was in about 50 yards. Nick was right. Somehow, we had missed a right turn and were going to be crossing everyone else's paths if we continued on. We turned around and with the extra out and back, only missed out on 0.2 miles for the loop.

By this point, my foot had become sore to the point that I was favoring it when running flat or downhill, but uphill wasn't a problem. The remainder of the loop continued with the undulating trail all the way to Brown's Ranch Trailhead. By that point, limping was unavoidable. It hurt just to walk. I hung out at the aid station until a few more runners came in, and I soon found some partners to head back to the start along the power line trail. The 5.5 miles of the power line trail was all up or down – nothing flat. I did my best to keep running, but my foot complained the whole way back.

"Are you hurt, or are you injured?" This line (I think it was from the movie 'Rudy') goes through my head any time I deal with pain out on the trail. There is certainly a fine line sometimes between distinguishing the hurt from the injury. I think anyone who has been running long enough knows how frustrating it is to end a run or a race early due to perceived injury only to find out that it's just a hurt. Of course, the saying goes that discretion is the better part of valor, or better safe than sorry, and all that. It doesn't make it any easier to miss out on running in the beautiful Sonoran desert with friends, but it does make it easier to get out again on the trails if you aren't nursing an injury that could have been just a hurt.

2013 - A year in review

In looking back at the events of the past year, I have tried to evaluate the most meaningful, impactful events from the year in order to record them as my highlights. However, though there were certainly some big moments that changed my life, I truly feel that the smaller moments shouldn't be forgotten either. It seems to me that the summation of the smaller moments eclipse the few big moments for meaning and impact and shouldn't be ignored. So, let's start small.

Since this is a blog about running, I will focus on that aspect of my life.

I have to begin by mentioning all of the incredible people I have met throughout the year. Most of them were met on the trail, doing what I love, and then carried into the virtual space of social media. I find that running with someone somewhere in the wilderness is one of the best places to get to know a person. Not only do you get to talk to them, but you can tell a lot about a person by the way they run. Are they ambitious? Do they attack the uphill? Are they cautious? Do they stop and enjoy the scenery? Many times, my impression of a person was formed more through my observations than through conversation. Regardless, I met more amazing people than I can readily pull to mind, and the majority of them won't realize what kind of impression they have had, and continue to have, on me. 2013 blessed me with some great new friendships.

Secondly, it becomes obvious to me that I spend more time on the trail training than I do actually racing or participating in special non-race events. So, here's to all the miles and hours on the trails. From fighting through the morning stiffness during the cold winter mornings on the rocky trails at Thunderbird to sweating it out through 112ºF temps in the hot summer sun, it was all worth it. All of these runs contributed to where I am today. Each of them is a building block. Many of them helped me establish new boundaries and brought fresh, renewed perspective into who I am and what I can accomplish.

Next, it almost goes without saying that a runner, or any athlete for that matter, is eventually going to be injured. It isn't ever an easy thing to deal with. Injury breaks routine and throws training plans into disarray, but when you're injured as much as I was in 2013, you either cry and complain about it, or you find the silver lining. For me, I start by crying and complaining about it (at least to those closest to me) and then I move on to the silver lining. The silver lining in all of my injuries is that I was able to become more intimately aware of how my body works and how amazing of a machine it can be -- even when injured. Of course, I had the help of some great professionals and some amazing friends who came through with some great recommendations. I would feel ungrateful if I didn't mention Justin Pierce at Valley Spinal Care. That guy kept me going through some pretty low injury moments.

So, now that the "smaller" moments are, for the most part, covered, it's on to the big moments. I won't go into a lot of detail with them since they are all covered in various posts in this blog.

My year started off with the first annual Thunderbird 50k, which I hosted at Thunderbird park in Glendale in January. It was cold. There was a small crowd, but there were also some great performances. Silas Klaver pretty much dominated the event and made it look easy right from the start. Since this isn't officially a race, the results aren't recorded anywhere, but it's a great way to get in a good 50k run and start the year of right. We'll be doing it again this year.

My races started off with my first time at Old Pueblo 50-miler near Sonoita, Arizona. It was a great race, and an amazing learning experience. Officially, it was also my first 50 mile race since the North Face Endurance Challenge in San Francisco in 2012 was shortened, and the Javelina Night Run (now the Javelina Jangover) was officially 46 miles. I was excited to make this great event my first one >50 miles. I'm going back this year to break my PR.

My next race was Zane Grey. I made it roughly 27 miles (?) before succumbing to some nasty vomiting and dehydration. Nothing I ingested that whole day was digested and I made my offering to the trail gods at the one place on the trail where they tell you not to drop. DNF. I have a score to settle. I'll be back this year.

Feeling like I underachieved at Zane Grey, and wanting to get in a solid, challenging run, I ended up joining a group of friends at the Grand Canyon in the middle of May for my first rim-to-rim-to-rim. Again, I made some rookie mistakes and payed the price 3/4 the way through,  but with the help and encouragement of some new friends I was able to complete the run in a respectable time. Again, I'm going back this year.

My troubles at Zane Grey and at R2R2R led me to reevaluate my fueling strategy and ultimately to drop my EFS and CarboPro mixture and replace it with a new product, Tailwind. I won't say much about this than to say that I think every runner should give this a try. It's awesome, and the people at Tailwind stand behind what they produce and provide the best customer support ever. Period.

The end of May found me in the southeast valley running to support Trevor Davenport's run to raise funds and awareness for ALS. The HOM100 was organized by Trevor as a result of his friend's battle with ALS, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to help Trevor through some of the miles he was running. It was an incredible experience and an honor to be a part of such an epic and selfless run.

July found me in Snowbird, Utah for my first time racing at the Speedgoat 50k. I had my eye on this race since the year before, but I doubt I would have been ready. What a difference a year made. I spent a lot of time doing hill training in and around Phoenix and Flagstaff, including a lot of trips up Mt. Humphreys with Kristin, Deron, Greg, and a lot of other friends. This training made all the difference. I went into that race feeling strong and healthy and came away with a solid (for me) performance on a more than difficult course. I will be going back to this one, maybe next year, to compete against my PR.

My big race for the year, and my first 100-miler was Mogollon Monster. I had spent the whole year up to this point mentally and physically preparing for this 106 mile beast. Every race I did, every training run was targeted in some way to help me conquer this epic adventure. I had the help of some amazing runners who constantly provided encouragement and got me to the starting line. Deron Ruse, who had run this the year before, was a huge help and was always there with tips and advice for the big day. I spent a lot of miles on the trails with him talking about different aspects of the race and picking his brain for adjustments to my strategy. In the end, with the help of an amazing crew, led by Kristin Steele, and THE BEST pacers, Scott, Greg, and Sarah, the beast was mine.

My last race of the year was my second year at The North Face Endurance Challenge Championships in San Francisco. The year before was muddy and messy, and the course had been shortened... long story, read the post. Anyway, I felt I had a score to settle, and I ended up toeing the line again in 2013. This year, I made the trip with Deron and Kristin and met Jon Roig at the race. Another great time, this time with much better weather and an awesome experience.

All in all, this year was a great success for me. I got to see some amazing places, participate in some great events, make some good friends and meet some amazing people. The trail running community is truly something incredible, and anyone who hasn't had the opportunity to experience this is truly missing out. Here's to more fun, misery, happiness and accomplishment in 2014.

Yearly stats:

• Total distance: 2014 miles/3241 kilometers
• Total elevation: 257,368 ft/78446 meters
• Total time: 430:50:48 (1 hr 10 min/day)
• Calories: 207,200 (approx.)

If you're going through hell, keep going.

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.” - Sir Winston Churchill

One thing that sets the sport of ultra running apart from most other sports is how hard each participant pushes their physical limits beyond what most people would consider safe ...or sane. But, after my experience at Zane Grey 50 where I made the call to quit and take the DNF, I find myself asking the questions: When is it really over? How do you know when you need to throw in the towel?

It isn't something that anyone likes to talk about, and a lot of people have two answers. I'll call them the "nice" answers and the "hardcore" answers.

The feel good answers
There are variations of the feel good answer, but they generally run along the lines of:

• "Listen to your body and you'll know when you've had enough."
• "There's no point in pushing past your limit. Take the DNF and live to race another day."
• There are more, but my brain decided to DNF while making this list.

The Hardcore answers

We have all heard these answers. They are all over the place. We toss them around like nothing during training runs and during races to help motivate and inspire, but they often involve very little common sense.

• "I'll never quit!"
• "Relentless forward progress, baby!"
• "Puke and then push on."
• "It's a wall, get over it."
• "Your body is lying to you! Keep your feet moving!"
• "No pain, no gain!"
• "If you're not bleeding from the head or dragging a broken limb, you have no excuses!" (ok, I just made this up)
• ...and many more.

The problem

For a relative newbie like me, the answer seems to fall somewhere between these two extremes. There's certainly wisdom in listening to your body, but there are valid cases where the feedback from the body is telling you to stop when you are capable of pushing on. There's also a point at which your body is telling you to stop because you could die if you continue (this is probably more rare than most people think).

So, what is your answer? When is it ok to throw in the towel and take the DNF?

Oh, and I'm dying to hear your feel good and hardcore answers, and your battle stories. What have you pushed through? When did you take the DNF and why? Leave them in the comments below.