Thursday, July 5, 2018

Today Is The First Day Of My New Running Life

Rebirth, Awakening, Revival.  These are the words that jumped out at me when I did an online thesaurus search for “renewal.”  Yes, I am THAT nerdy.  I was trying to analyze a new chapter in my life, a huge move forward, and a decision to change my mindset on the one thing outside of my life with Jeana and relationships with my loved ones that brings me peace and joy.  And that’s where I am at.  It’s time to be reborn into the best athlete I can be.  Awaken from this dreary cloud I have been stuck under.  Experience a revival in my running and newfound enjoyment of moving quickly on my own two feet in the outside world and nature where I feel most at home.

With much regret and personal feelings of fear and dissatisfaction, I decided that I am not going to start the Silverton Ultra Marathon next month.  Sure, I could show up and trudge my way through it, finish, and feel like garbage at the end.  That’s not for me anymore.  I’m done.  I realized this last Saturday as I slugged my way to finish up a mediocre 18 miles where I felt tired, weak, dehydrated, and under prepared around the 15 mile point.  If I suffer through this short training run, how will I complete 60+ miles in Silverton?  I am finished with haphazard training.  Sure, I am experienced in running ultra-distances.  My philosophy in 2015 where I felt much success was basic:  More miles, more vertical.  That’s it.  Sure, I was able to finish these races, but not at a level where I felt truly prepared or particularly decent when I finished.  I’m struggling with running up hills and I’m developing injuries with repetitive runs on the same terrain without anything to break it up.  Cross training?  I’ve slipped.

Terminology and activities such as “tempo run,” “recovery run,” “heart rate monitoring,” “threshold,” and “VO2 max,” etc., did not exist in my vocabulary.  Flat runs?  Road runs?  “No way!” Those things were not for me.  I knew better and would enjoy myself and my training if I just went out without a schedule and did my own thing.  No monitoring and measurement of my improvement or progress other than how I feel.  How’s that been working out for you Josh?  Answer:  Not well at all.

Last year, I helped my friend Gabe finish her first 100 miler at Run Rabbit.  My first 100 miler.  We ran a painfully tough 30+ something miles together.  Neither of us felt good at all.  And I hadn’t just run 70-something miles like Gabe had either, but we suffered together and she got to the finish line under the cutoff.  As a gift for helping, she gave me Jason Koop’s “Training Essentials for Ultra Running” book, which looked awesome, and I knew would be a fantastic read.  However, I never picked it up until a few weeks ago.  After having some hard conversations with some elite and talented runners I know and leafing through the first 15 pages or so, I was convinced that I needed help.  I know of Koop.  I’ve been exposed to his influence with elites and local athletes alike.  Hell, in 2015, Koop’s wife blazed past me in the last mile of the Never Summer 100k.  She also happened to be my daughter’s Freshman English Teacher.  I’m lucky to have Koop and his organization in my hometown.

So… apprehensively I started perusing the website for Carmichael Training Systems ( the ultrarunning coaching program.  They have a lot of awesome things from nutrition consults, to lab work and fitness testing.  To my surprise I found out that one of their coaches is none other than Andy Jones-Wilkins (AJW).  A man that I have admired from afar ever since hearing him speak on Ultra Runner Podcast many years ago.  I gentleman who has run Western States 10 times!  A man who understands injuries and aging.  I called, spoke to Dominic, and then the next day AJW and I engaged in a 20-minute consult (which turned into an hour).  We got off the phone, and called Dominic back immediately telling him of the instant connection I felt and signed up.  I am super excited to be working with AJW and partner in success.

So here we go.  I’m starting over and rebuilding myself into the maximum potential version of myself I can be.  My goal is to qualify for Western States.  It’s been a dream of mine since first reading about Dean Karnazes and watching “Unbreakable.”  I qualified once, and lost it after the time off due to my injuries.  No more.  I am picking strategic goal races where I can maintain that qualification until the lottery lets me in.  I am not 100% sure of what is in store for me, but I know with the right help and newfound motivation I’ll get there.

Today, I will begin with an endurance run at a steady pace on flatter terrain as the first step of a ten-day intro program for the first phase, then begin to plan the future.  I’ll keep you posted.  I’m excited!


Sunday, February 25, 2018

Set Backs and Come Backs

Indulge me.  These first four or so paragraphs are not even going to get to the point of this post.  Those of you who know me, know I can talk.  Often times WAY too much and I can ramble in a lot of different directions and go off topic.  It is hard to follow me sometimes.  This is likely going to happen right here, right now.  That being said… if you are taking time to read this, I have a story to tell.  Stick with it.  It is more of a recent gathering of my thoughts and feelings on life, and health, and about what matters.  I am sitting in a Starbucks supporting my beautiful girlfriend as she attempts to run the Pueblo Half Marathon and qualify for the Pikes Peak Ascent.  So here goes:

Backstory.  About five weeks ago I decided to make some changes in my fitness life.  This year, with much hesitation, I decided to walk away from the Brewer’s Cup.  I’ve made some amazing friends through it all.  Heck, I met the love of my life through it!  Thanks Vanessa, and Alan, and Watson J  Two people and Carolyn’s dog who are inadvertently responsible for me meeting Jeana.   I owe you much.  At the same time, I had a deep-seated fear of losing connection with a great group of people that I admire and respect.  Good friends and some of my running heroes that I am honored to spend time with.  But I needed to step away.  Jeana joined the team in my place because I had decided that I needed to lose the pressure of commitment to the events surrounding it and focus on ME.  I needed freedom from the weekend/weeknight races and events and venues so far removed from my beloved, secluded, long trail runs in the mountains.  The place I feel most at home.  Plus, I figured I would leave on a high note as Smiling Toad had placed 2nd my first year, and we won it all last year (with very little contribution from me BTW) as my performance and participation were mediocre at best.

I have been plagued with injury since 2012 when I decided to move from my rather sedentary life (yes even as an active duty Army officer) and start running crazy long-distance trail runs.  I had my second foot surgery in 2016 a few months after a very successful year of ultra-distance races.  I achieved so many life goals culminating in a 100-mile finish at Run Rabbit Run in 2015.  I finished just shy of gold buckle time in a VERY tough mountain ultra.  Nothing mind blowing.  But a race that hurts the bodies and egos of some of the toughest elites in the sport.

What followed was another foot surgery, huge life changes (military retirement, full-time parenting, a failed relationship, etc.).  I gained weight, became busy, let myself go a lot, and struggled through the fitness events of my life.  A Ragnar, pacing some very close friends to successful 100-mile finishes, etc.  I put on a relationship gut.  Please understand that the past year with Jeana is the happiest I have ever been in my life.  But we enjoyed ourselves and I indulged too much.  Time to keep all of the positive aspects of sharing my life with a wonderful woman but cut out my bad eating, rest, and exercise habits.

Although I decided to leave Brewer’s Cup, I did sign up for some of the races.  I was running the Winter Series one race, a measly 8 miles with little elevation gain and I felt bad.  I was slow, I was winded, my foot hurt.  I was fed up.  My training was inconsistent and I reached out to my friends to run with me and help motivate me.  Thanks to Lynne, Sabine, Roland, and most of all, Jay.  Thanks for joining me on these runs and helping me get over the first few difficult weeks of returning back to where I need to be.  For whatever reason, I couldn’t bring myself to run the final fourth race of the Winter Series.  I needed a bigger challenge.  On a whim, I messaged Megan Finnesy about letting me sign up for the Silverton Ultra, despite not having qualified in the last two years.  She agreed!  Then I looked at other events to prepare.

I saw a post from John LaCroix of Human Potential about the Stories Ultra a few weeks ago.  I almost signed up.  There were 6, 15, and 30 hour loops at Cheyenne Mountain State Park where you ponder a question during your run, then tell your story after.  What an AWESOME idea.  My only problem was the monotony of running a race in a place where I have run a ton.  A place where I am a little burned out.  So, I did not sign up.  I decided to go for 6 hours and a lot more elevation gain in Cheyenne Canon on the same day at my favorite running trail and backyard here in Colorado Springs.  The night before, Jeana and I had an argument.  Without airing out too many private details, the gist of it was me being selfish, and struggling with some insecure personal feelings that I strained to communicate or help her fully understand.  We apologized and went to bed happy and supporting one other.  Like, real, grown-up relationship awesomeness J

NOW BACK TO THE STORY.  I am in love with the concept of the Stories Ultra.  I woke up, geared up, and decided to modify the rules of John’s race on my own.  I am a Black Sheep, and that is what I do.  I came up with my own question(s) to ponder and spent the next 6ish hours pondering the answer and reflecting on my life.  My multi-part question was this:  Who am I, and why do I keep pushing the limits of my physical endurance?  I really believe that these two questions are intertwined and complement the other.  One cannot be answered without first answering the other one.  Here’s what I came up with:

I left my front door on foot and headed the very short distance to Bear Creek Regional Park.  On this small section leading about 4 miles into Red Rocks Canyon Open Space I was feeling a little down.  I was upset at myself for arguing with and hurting my amazing girlfriend.  I thought about who I really was.  NEWSFLASH:  I am not who you really think I am.  I am also not that different from anybody else navigating this crazy life.  What you may see when you first meet me?  Confident?  A little arrogant?  Up-front and in-your-face?  A jokester?  Decent/good looking?  Fit?  These are some things people have used to describe me.  Guess what?  I’m insecure.  Yes, I am blunt and up-front.  Looks/fitness?  I see a lot of flaws.  I am 42 years old.  My hair is thinning on top.  I do not have that “runner’s build.”  I use jokes and laughter to overcome my internal fears of being accepted and making friends.  I have a ton of anxiety.  I’m talking about a medically proven diagnosis that the federal government will be compensating me for until I leave this world.  But I manage.

I get to Red Rocks and a beautiful overlook and look at an encouraging text from Jay.  Then I get one from Jeana in reply to my “I’m doing well so far, but the real climbing has not begun” text.  It says, “you can do it love and just do the best you can.  You are getting out there and I am so proud of you.”  Support.  Love.  Encouragement.  Beautiful words from an amazing woman.  Then I ponder some more.  My natural inclination is to lean towards negative.  In recent years I have made a ton of improvement in my outlook in life.  Mostly due to therapy.

What crosses my mind?  I want more freedom.  I am not in love with my job.  I am a failure as a father.  Why is my son struggling with becoming an adult?  Why is my daughter insecure?  Why do I occasionally doubt the love and support I am receiving from a woman who says she wants to spend the rest of her life with me?  I want to be a better friend.  I need more time to spend with my best friends.  I want to contact my loved ones more.  Be a better dad.  Be a better uncle.  A better partner. Better son.  Better employee.  I want to quit everything and move to Costa Rica J I do not want to be a part of the corporate world.  I only want to eat clean food.  Run mountains.  Laugh and love and enjoy life to the fullest.

I get through Red Rocks easily on the trails that Jay showed me.  I start climbing up Section 16.  It’s cold.  It’s snowy.  The trail is slippery.  I don’t have traction.  I power hike up.  I run some of it!  I get to the top.  I am 7 miles in and two hours have elapsed.  I think I am slow.  But I also told Jeana that 3.5 miles an hour is not bad.  Especially in these conditions.  Especially when my left foot hurts from plantar fasciitis ALL the time.  I am carrying all this extra weight.  But I am out here.  I am doing it.  I am right where I was (maybe a little slower) eighteen months ago.  I remember this ultra-thing.  I am eating food every hour.  Drinking just enough water.  Damn it is cold.  I text Jeana.  I tell her that I am checking in because I do not want to slip down the snow in the ravine again (yes, AGAIN).  I did this a few years ago.  Not fun.  She tells me to be careful.  She tells me she is glad I am feeling good and that she loves me. 

I start running downhill towards high drive.  I think about all of the struggle in this world.  The school shootings.  The gun debates.  Mental health.  How ugly and selfish and sad and angry people can be.  I compare some aspects of these things to myself.  I think about my son.  I think about my experiences in combat.  I feel happy that I am retired and free from that life.  I wonder why we cannot just focus on joy and peace and happiness and love?  I get to the bottom.  Incident free.  I start heading up high drive towards Bear Creek Trail.  I am 11 miles in.  I feel good.  I start thinking I can head all the way up and then head down Seven Bridges.  It is colder.  The snow is deeper.  I tell Jeana where I am and what my plan is.    She tells me I am amazing. 

I start up Bear Creek Trail.  It feels steep but I am running.  I feel good.  My mind shifts to thinking about when I came across Zach Miller out here and how effortless he makes running mountains look.  I think about High Drive Challenge.  I think about Peter Maksimow, Alex Nichols, Timothy Olson.  I want to be like these guys.  Actually I am.  Just a little slower.  My mind shifts again.  I get some reception.  I stop for food in a sunny spot.  I see a Feed Your Crazy Facebook post.  I think about my friend Bard.  He paced me to the end of my first 100 miler.  I’m not sure if he knows he changed my life for the better by being my friend.  I start thinking about how bad I am at communicating with my friends again.  I start thinking I should apply to be an Ambassador of Crazy this year.  I need a new Feed Your Crazy sticker for my new car… J 

I realize I should be close to the waterfall section.  The snow is deep.  It’s really cold.  I stop.  I see a trail intersection sign that should not be there.  It is trail 666.  I always cringe when I see this number.  It says “dead end.”  They are rerouting for the trout initiative.  My plan has changed.  Should I turn around and run down and then figure out a new route.  Crap.  This is not what I want.  I look at the new trail.  I have never gone this way before.  Where does it lead?  Man, the snow is deep and there is only one really old set of tracks going that way that have obviously been covered by more new snow.  Screw it.  Time to embrace being uncomfortable.  I slip and slide my way up the slope.  It is SO cold.  Why has the wind become so horrible?  Where on earth does this trail lead?  A half mile later I am at Captain Jacks intersection at the top of Buckhorn Loop.  Okay, now I know where I am!  This is kind of cool.  But I am running out of time on my six hours.  I am afraid to take Captain Jacks all the way to the top.  Jeana can pick me up at the bottom, but I want to play it safe and be smart.  I head down Buckhorn.

I get to the bottom.  The trail has minimal snow.  It is actually feeling warm.  I look at my watch.  14 miles.  Three hours and forty-five minutes has elapsed.  I think AGAIN.  I am SO slow.  I want to be faster.  I want my foot to feel better.  My left hip is sore again.  Physical therapy has REALLY been helping.  But I want to be better.  I will head up the trail until 4 hours and 15 minutes hits and then I will turn around.  I will head up to the top of high drive from the Seven Bridges parking lot, and then run home to my front door.  I can do this.  No reception.  Jeana is probably wondering where I am.  She does not know that my route has changed.  I get to the turnaround point.  I am over my 4000’ foot of vertical goal.  I head back.  I see two guys who are clearly Army hiking.  I say “stick to the plan!” to them.  They look at me like I am some weird A-hole.  Or is that just my perception?  I keep running.  Two guys with dogs have not moved from their spot.  They tell me “wow you didn’t get very far…”.  Yes Jeana, I cannot make this stuff up.  I choose not to mention that I have been running for 4.5 hours.

This interaction reminds me of an altercation I had a few months ago with an angry guy with a gun whose dogs knocked me over while I was out running for a while.  He called me a pussy when I told him his puppies hurt me and were biting me.  I was angry, but I walked away because he had a gun on his hip.  Sigh.  I am getting close to the parking lot and my final climb up high drive on the back side.  I have my answer:

Conclusion.  These negative thoughts are not who I am.  I am a man who is very blessed in life.  I have finally found true and unconditional love.  I have a woman who will spend the rest of her life with me who knows all of my flaws and deep dark places and chooses to stay.  I am not hurting for money and I have a good job.  My health is excellent.  I am still doing what I love.  I can do anything I want.  I just have to take the chance.  I have a beautiful home.  I have two children who will be okay.  One way or another they will be okay.  They chose to live with me!  In a world where most kids live alone with mom after the parents’ divorce.  I have the sweetest puppy on the planet.  I have amazing friends.  Despite the fact that my busy life keeps me from spending the kind of time I would like with them.  My family is fantastic.  I am a good, decent, kind, fun person.  I can choose to be positive in a world where things seem bleak.

I get to the top of high drive.  It is freezing cold.  Even though it has warmed to a balmy 35 degrees.  Ha!  I have a final bit of food.  I text Jeana.  16.2 miles elapsed with 4300’ of climbing.  5 hours.  She says “I am awesome and kicking ass out there!”  The wind is blowing really hard.  I start running down high drive.  My hip is really tight and messing up my form.  It has been bothering me lately because my PT is finally getting that muscle to fire.  The downhill hurts.  I keep running.  I get back to the Bear Creek intersection after my figure eight.  I do some math.  I ask Jeana to pick me up at the bottom of high drive near the trail offshoot that would take me three more miles to get home.  I could complete 22 miles in just over 6 hours if I did it.  My old way would be to suffer through it.  I decide the miles will be junk.  She agrees and leaves and says she will meet me.

My next revelation hits me.  Why do I do this?  I do this because it reminds me that I am alive.  I still cannot explain why I am drawn to suffer slightly.  And I do mean slightly.  These adventures are not as hard as they seem.  I love the mountains.  It reminds me that there is something out there that is raw, undefined, wild, and free.  Running these crazy trails makes me a better person.  A healthier person.  Especially in a world increasingly becoming so sedentary and digitized.  These events help me to realize that I can accomplish anything.  Even though I am not skinny or fast or winning races, I can accomplish these things.  Life is all about setbacks and comebacks.  My muscle memory kicks in and reminds me that I can push further and faster than my mind tells me I can.  It reminds me that good things are earned.  You have to work your ass off to achieve anything of real meaning in this life.  I do this to inspire my children.  To encourage others to do anything in their power to fight obesity, cancer, sluggish feelings, self-doubt.  It helps me sleep better.  I treat others better.  The list goes on.  But I will continue to persevere.  Until I cannot.  Even though I do not see how "until I cannot" is really a possibility.  I will keep offering my friends, new and old, to go out and accomplish epic things.  And maybe, just maybe, Jeana will try a 50k or something one day J

I get to the bottom.  I run past Jeana’s car as she is slowing to get me.  I hit 19 miles.  Something I do not normally do because I like to challenge myself not to deal in absolute even numbers, time, or mileage on my runs, something I learned from Nick Clark.  She turns around and pulls up.  I take off my stuff and get in the car.  I am 15 minutes shy of 6 hours.  It is okay.  I’m done.  I tell her that I love her.  I tell her that she was my motivation and inspiration out there.   I see my adorable puppy in the back.  I go home, have a beer, and rest until the next time…

By the way, she did it.  My lady is running the Pikes Peak Ascent this year!  2:15ish for her half on very little training with a sore knee.  I'm SO proud of her.

Monday, September 28, 2015

100 Miles Really Isn’t That Far: My Experience at the Run Rabbit Run 100-Mile Endurance Race

Running 100 miles has been a goal and dream of mine since I was first intrigued and inspired by the world of ultra running after I read “Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-night Runner” by Dean Karnazes back in 2010.  It’s been a long road, but this year, after some relentless training and some key preparatory races, I completed my dream and finished the Run Rabbit Run 100-Mile Endurance Race on September 18-19, 2015.

Preparations:  Timing was perfect for this race as I had some vacation time to burn.  I am so fortunate that my senior leadership at work supports this crazy hobby of mine.  They blessed off on my leave and promised to track me via the online mechanism.  I took the few days off before the race to pack and get ready, then headed to Fort Collins to spend the night with my kiddos since they wouldn’t be able to join me for this one due to school.  I woke up early on Thursday and headed up gorgeous Poudre Canyon towards Steamboat.  The fall colors were amazing despite some crummy weather moving in, but as I drove past Cameron pass, I drew strength from the familiar mountains and terrain from my Never Summer 100k adventure just eight weeks ago.  I arrived in town, and received a nice surprise:  Tom Lindsay was there and he took me out to lunch so we could link up prior to packet pickup and feed off each other’s energy.  He looked fit, and ready to go.  We signed up for this together in January, so I was very glad that we were finally here.

After lunch, I met Monique and Lisa at the resort to coordinate support for the early parts of the race when Bard and Ricki would be traveling to crew and pace me.  Lisa works with me at the hospital and I’ve been lucky to call her and her husband Tom friends.  In fact, my whole department offered me encouraging words for this endeavor.  I love everyone I work with!  You guys are the best.  So, I headed over to packet pickup with the ladies, met Tom, dropped off aid station drop bags, and bumped into Siobhan from the PI team.  She looked ready to crush the course, and I knew that if I could keep her in my sights, I would finish well.

It was nice arriving early for bib numbers and “bunny ears” pictures because the tent filled quickly.  Afterwards, we sat down and waited for the mandatory race briefing.  Jared Hazen sat down close by and I chatted with him for a few minutes.  I also met one of Monique’s friends, Lisa Mansfield, who I would share some miles with during the next day.  After a long wait, Fred came out and gave the pre-race briefing.  It was loooong.  Fred would be running his own race this year!  Fred had some funny commentary about one’s ability to “enjoy” a 100-mile race, as well as how daunting the distance really can be, quoting Karl Meltzer (hence the title of this blog).  He also warned us first timers about setting time goals… oops!  But he had a quote I will not forget:  “You are capable of doing more than you think you can, but also, running this race will be harder than you think it will be.”  He then warned us about just how cold the temperature would get down to.  I was happy that I had packed enough cold weather gear in my drop bags.  Right before we headed out, I saw Mark Thomas in the back of the room and he encouraged me by saying that this was the last time he’d see the front of me until the race was over.  Mark is awesome.

Obligatory Rabbit Ears Photo at Packet Pickup!

I headed back to the hotel; laid everything out, donned my Feed Your Crazy tattoo, the very cool elevation profile tattoo, ate dinner, and headed to bed.  Right before I drifted off, I received a super motivational Facebook message from my niece Ashley.  It was a video of her and the Willowbrook High School Cross Country Team (same high school I went to) wishing me luck!  It made my night.

Elevation profile and aid stations.

I slept fitfully, and my eyes popped open at 1:30 am.  Then again at 2:00… you get the idea.  I was just too excited and nervous.  I woke up, had coffee, a little food, then met Lisa and Monique to head to the race start check-in.  It was cold and it started raining.  I only had a lightweight t-shirt and arm warmers on and my waterproof/wind jacket was in my Olympian Hall drop bag ready for the cold night!  Fortunately, my car was close and parked for Bard and Ricki to use as the crew vehicle, so Lisa was kind enough to run back to grab my shell.  That was a lifesaver!  As other runners started filing in, I saw Alan Flolo, wished him well, and then the mob was led over to the start.  I chatted a bit with Ron Dean, Tom, and Siobhan.

Talking with Ron and Monique before the start

Monique and I ready to race.  It was cold at the start.

The Race:  At 8:00 am, the gun went off and we crossed the start line for an epic adventure in the beautiful Steamboat Springs landscape.  The first ¼ mile or so was on a groomed path with an easy grade, but it very quickly ascended straight up the rough terrain on the super steep ski slope right next to/under the gondola.  I knew the first four or so miles were supposed to be steep, but this terrain gave Diamond Peak a run for its money.  If you ran Never Summer, you know what I’m talking about!  Lisa’s efforts to get my rain shell turned out to be somewhat of a failure because I stripped that thermal retention device off within 20 minutes!  While I was fumbling with gear, another runner offered to help me stow my jacket.  This is what I love about the spirit of this sport.  It’s all about the people who do it and support it!

The start line just before the gun.

And....We're off!

As I approached the top of the climb and the Mount Werner aid station, Lisa was already there waiting for Monique, then she snapped some pictures of me and cheered me on.  I headed off on the additional climbing up to the Long Lake Aid Station and first official chip check-in.  I was trying to keep Ron and Siobhan in my sights during this section, but I couldn’t hang.  I swapped out food quickly and moved out towards the first real downhill section at Fish Creek Falls.  On my way out I saw Tom and Monique and we exchanged words of motivation with one another.  I was a little nervous about the next stretch as it was rumored to be the most technical section, and there was a 4.5-mile stretch through town and traffic to the 20ish mile point of the course at Olympian Hall.  Pavement is my enemy.

Looking back down at the resort.  The start was steep!

If I stay with Ron, I'm good!

I went down the really technical sections like a timid mouse because I was very gun shy about my rolled ankle a few weeks ago.  There was also a lot of family and friends hiking the area, which made it difficult to navigate.  I made it through Fish Creek Falls, and then high-tailed it into town on the rough pavement.  I was a tad nervous, because my legs were already heavy with only about 20% of the course complete.  Olympian Hall had tons of music, a cheering crowd, and I saw Lisa there, who gave me a time update and offered crew support.  At this point, I realized that I needed to slow down because I was just 30 minutes later than a 24-hour pace.  I was moving way too fast for a first 100-mile race.  I thanked the volunteers, and with food topped off, and more liquid, I was on my way up another big climb.

Heading out of Olympian Hall still feeling well!

I was really excited to be heading towards my awesome crew and pacers Bard and Ricki at Cow Creek Aid Station, but the next few miles of climbing were brutal.  The incredibly steep top miles of this section before the downhill were literally named “The Lane of Pain.”  It sure felt like it.  I topped out at the highest point of this section, and was ready for some downhill.  At this point in the race, I was starting to feel a little pull on my right Achilles tendon.  Nothing crazy yet, but it was enough to nag at me.  I pushed some good downhill miles into Cow Creek and hit the 50k mark at just around 7:15 hours elapsed.  I took a chair, ate some watermelon, ginger ale, broth, and ran into Patrick Nguyen, another PI teammate, who encouraged me and snapped a photo.  Lisa was there, gave me potato chips and encouragement, and snapped more photos.  I also met Sherpa John from the Human Potential Running Series and promised to join up.  I pulled out my phone and saw a text from Bard who informed me that he was on his way to Cow Creek.  I asked him to stay at Olympian since I was heading out.

It was warm coming into Cow Creek.  I'm happier than I appear.

Chatting with Sherpa John before heading out.

I was a bit worried about doing another uphill section, but it was actually mild all in all.  The next 12 or so miles consisted of much nicer single track and more tree cover than the hot dusty miles down to Cow Creek.  About ½ way up I caught up to Ron on the side of the trail.  He did not look good and should have been way ahead of me.  He informed me that he had fallen and hit his head at Fish Creek Falls.  It was hard to see him nauseous and moving slowly.  He informed me that he would probably drop at Olympian.  I was still impressed that he could pump out 20 miles after a fall in that treacherous area.  I stuck with him for a few, but he pushed me to move on.  At the top of the climb and back to the “Lane of Pain” Lisa Mansfield caught up to me and we talked for a bit.  I encouraged her because she told me the day before that she was going to be in the back.  Fat chance Lisa!  She was rocking it.  She pushed the next downhill miles well and I slowed down because I was noticing a small pain in my right knee.  I headed into Olympian for the second time and Bard, Ricki, and their kids were there to pamper me.  I had everything brought to me.  I changed into my long sleeve shirt because the sun was going down, changed socks, rolled my right leg out with the “stick” and headed back out onto the dreaded pavement back to the Fish Creek Falls trailhead where I would get to pickup Ricki as a pacer!  42 miles down.

I ran through town feeling really solid and started the huge uphill section towards Fish Creek and Long Lake 2.  About ½ way up Jason Schlarb (the eventual Hare winner) passed by solidly with Jared Hazen right on is heels.  Jared greeted me with a “Good job Josh” and my faulty brain mustered up a “Good looking Jared.”  Yep, I mixed up my words.  I just decided to let that one slide.  Ha!   Bard and Ricki drove by and shouted some words of encouragement as I was heading up.  I arrived at the Fish Creek Falls water stop at about 47 miles and Ricki was ready to go.  I topped off water, we donned headlamps and gloves, and then we set off!  You all need to understand something:  Ricki is awesome.  Bard will always proudly exclaim, “He married up.”  She’s a fitness instructor, PI teammate, and quite a talented runner.  We went over some quick expectations and started moving up the trail at a good pace.  About a mile up, one of the Hare front-runners passed by and made a wrong turn.  We were able to yell out and steer him back in the right direction.  Good karma.

On the way to Long Lake it turned cold fast.  Ricki deduced that it was because of the stream and I agreed.  The long miles and fatigue were setting in.  I was shivering and my hands simply did not want to work.  Ricki traded gloves with me because hers were thicker, and we kept pushing along.  She was great.  If something looked runnable, I was prodded to run it.  She kept me moving much faster than I may have gone on my own.  The first elite woman runner passed by and then Nick Clark came barreling by too.  We cheered them both on.  It was a tough climb, but we made it up.  We talked about a ton and the miles passed easily.  We also stopped a few times because of the view.  I simply cannot describe how gorgeous the stars and milky way look when you are out in the middle of the night in nature with no intrusive city light to take away from that beauty.  It is just stunning!  When we arrived at Long Lake (54 miles in), there was a fire going, and it looked like a party.  I sat down and a volunteer offered to warm up my gloves for me.

I didn’t have to do anything!  Ricki knew what I wanted and had it ready for me.  I asked for broth with potatoes, and a minute later someone asked, “Where’s Josh?”  “I have your soup.”  I looked up and it was none other than Jenn Shelton of “Born to Run” fame (although she’s much more than portrayed in that book).  I said, “Hey you’re Jenn Shelton.”  I felt like I should have been giving her soup.  The party was in full force because some runners were taking whiskey shots.  I wasn’t that brave.  Ricki and I were concerned about how to warm up our frozen hands, and then I had a brilliant idea.  We pulled out my spare Smartwool socks and put them over our gloves as mittens.  This would save our hands for the rest of the cold night.  After warming up and fueling up, we set off for Summit Lake Aid and the highest point of the race, approximately 10,500’.

The miles went pretty well to Summit Lake.  Ricki kept reminding me to eat and drink, and we ran a good deal of that trail.  It was a net gain in altitude overall, but the miles felt relatively flat.  Summit Lake was a welcome sight because I knew the next 12-13 miles were mostly downhill and at 58 miles I was making a good dent into well over the ½-way point.  When we arrived, the volunteer congratulated us for being the first ones through on Saturday.  I looked down at my watch and it was 12:01 am.  I had been running for 16 hours.  Ha!  They had a warming tent setup and while it was welcome at first, it started to feel like a sauna.  It was also a little depressing.  This aid station seemed like a focal point for many who dropped.  So many people were freezing or had stomach problems they couldn’t resolve.  I looked over in the chair next to me and Michelle Yates was wrapped in a blanket.  I said “Hi,” and she said she wasn’t doing well.  I ate some bacon feeling the need for protein, loaded up on Honey Stinger waffles, and Ricki pushed me out of there.  When we left, I noticed just how cold it felt after “wussing out” in the heat tent.  The cool light show they had setup took my mind off of it, and we ran out, feeling good.

On the downhill to Dry Lake, my right hip was feeling sore and I noticed more pulling under my right knee.  Ricki urged to me do some stretches, and they seemed to help.  We ran the downhills and flats, and hiked sections with inclines.  About ½ way down, we saw someone moving up at a quick pace.  I said “Whoa, who’s that?”  I got the response “Schlarb” and the way he said he it had Ricki and I rolling (he pronounced it Shulaaaaarb).  I was still in awe at how fast that man was moving.  As we moved closer to the next aid, there were a few more runners coming up and we exchanged “Good jobs!” and “Way to GO’s!”  Ricki announced that she was overheating and went down to just her Feed Your Crazy jersey.  I looked down at my watch and noticed that we had crossed over 65 miles, the longest I had ever run.  I had covered it in about 17.5 hours, just about 1:45 less than my Never Summer time less than two months earlier.  A little bit later we arrived at the freezing cold Dry Lake Aid Station where Bard was waiting to take care of us.  I was covered in a blanket, and once again had all my needs met.  I declined to have my hip and knee massaged by the therapist up there and sort of wish I would have now.  That little break may have paid dividends at the end.  I had eggs and bacon here, and we changed headlamp batteries just to be safe.  As we were ready to move out, a woman asked me how the heck I could allow Ricki to run in a tank top, and then I realized it was Katie Robinson.  I smiled, apologized for being slow on the uptake, and said “Hey, it’s her job to keep me out of trouble, not the other way around.”

Happy faces at Dry Lake, then OMG we're cold faces!

The next section down to Spring Creek Ponds went well.  My knee behaved, and we were able to push a decent pace.  We talked about how excited Bard was to be able to finally crew and pace at a 100-miler, despite having already run three.  Seeing people on the way up while I was on my way down helped me know we were making progress, because it was the darkest part of the night.  I kept telling Ricki how much I was looking forward to daylight.  We arrived to the aid station and they cheered us in.  I looked down at my watch and said “Woohoo!  Only a marathon and a 10k left!”  The aid station volunteers laughed and most of the other runners gave me dirty looks!  But I was determined to keep my attitude positive.  I had my usual fare, and moved over to the warming tent while Ricki took advantage of actual bathroom facilities.  A few minutes later, Ricki came in and said, “Josh, let’s go!”  We rolled out, and headed back up.  We actually covered the uphill miles about as fast as we covered them downhill.  On the way up, I saw Tom heading down, and I was ecstatic that he was still moving strong.  I’m sure Monique and I passed each other, but I don’t remember seeing her.  As we neared Dry Lake for the second time, Fred, the race director was heading down.  I said, “Fred, I’m having FUN!”  He replied with, “Liar!,” then we entered the aid station.  77 miles down, and Ricki had run a 50k+ with me (33.5 miles by my calculation) for her longest distance run yet!  Awesome pacing and running Ricki!

Still running almost 80 miles in!

Bard was about ½ frozen when he geared up to take me home.  We prepped ourselves for the huge climb, took some selfies with Ricki, and then headed back to Summit Lake.  Bard is an awesome climber, and we set off like animals up that hill with the morning starting to break.  It was nice to have him fresh and talkative, as I was starting to feel a little fatigued.  He was really excited to be able to perform his first 100-miler pace duty.  We talked about everything and he motivated me about the endeavor I was on, and helped me visualize that finish line.  We continued to power hike and push the hills, then jog any flat sections.  We passed quite a few runners on the way back up.  When we arrived, we refueled relatively quickly, and then headed out on the section following the Continental Divide Trail back to Long Lake.

Fatigue is setting in!

My watch said we had completed nearly 84 miles at this point!  The section was more up than down, and this is about where my right knee started acting up when I ran any downhill.  Bard continued to encourage me on my small running pushes and we talked a lot about the Feed Your Crazy movement on this stretch.  Fortunately, Bard had seen this section before as he has run the 50-miler here.  As we approached Long Lake for the final time, we saw some 50-mile racers and it was awesome to give and receive words of praise and motivation.  At one point during this stretch, my watch ticked off mile 90.  It was really beginning to sink in!  Finally, we arrived at Long Lake for the last time, where I changed socks, ate more food, put on a t-shirt, and got rid of the majority of the extra gear I was carrying.  Bard took care of me as usual, and mentioned that there was only one aid station left to go!  We pressed on.

Even though I was really motivated and cheerful, the next section back to Mount Werner was tough.  Not so much due to the climbing or technical aspects of the trail, but due to the fact that I was finally slipping a bit mentally.  I was letting my knee bother me, and the bottoms of my feet were starting to ache (as if somehow I expected anything different).  Somewhere in here I told Bard that I had to finish because a bunch of high school girls were counting on me.  Thanks Ashley!  About ¾ of the way to Mount Werner, a couple of older looking gents passed by and Bard made me smile when he said, “That’s going to be us one day!”  Damn right!  A few minutes later are when the hallucinations finally hit me.  They were much more subtle than I thought.  First, I kept on looking behind me because I thought I heard footsteps.  Then, as my mind was really searching for the trail intersection at Mount Werner, a blue bird flew back and forth a few times, but my mind saw a mountain biker going back and forth and I said to Bard, “I see the trail!”  Nope, I was wrong.  Finally, the aid station came into view, my watch flipped over to triple digits, and I thought, man, I’m already here at 100 miles and I have so much more to go for a final punishing downhill.  At the aid station, I took some time to loosen my shoes, and check on my right knee and Achilles.  Bard said either way things were going to hurt, so we may as well run!  Agreed.

This didn't last too long!

My poor right knee hurt so bad...

6.5 miles to go!  I couldn’t complain at this point, as I had a solid stomach all day/night/day, and I had yet to really hit any low points.  So if I had a low section, this was it.  We began running and I could see victory and the finish line off in the distance, but my right hip and knee were trashed.  We continued to shuffle along at small spurts, and then I would stop, lie down, cry (seriously), and stretch a little.  About ½ way down I started walking backwards.  I was pathetic.  I did whatever I could do to keep making forward progress.  I lied down on the ground to stretch my hip again, and Bard snapped a photo saying it was payback for my candid shots when I paced him last year at Ouray J.  Right around the intersection leading to the final path home, the crowds were lining both sides of the trail and many people were out looking for their runner.  Even though I could barely handle it, I had it in my mind that I couldn’t stop running anymore and that I would finish strong.  I saw Lisa and told her I felt like I was dying, but kept running.  She was heading up to meet Monique at Mount Werner.

This happened frequently for about 4 miles.

Raw emotion:  I could see the finish, but I was crying.

The Steamboat resort was in sight.  I turned the corner and there was the finish line!  I saw more crowds, heard more cheers and congratulations, and more cowbells than I have ever heard in my life.  I was transformed, I was a different person, and it finally sunk in that I was finishing!  Bard peeled off to film my finish, and Ricki was on the other side getting the front angle.  I heard my name being announced, and I crossed the finish line at 106.5 miles, 20,000+ feet in elevation gain and loss, in 30 hours and 44 minutes, a little less than an hour off my planned sub-30 hour finish.  I did not care about my time anymore, I was just happy to celebrate my victory.  I melted into the “designated hugger” bawling like a baby, and received my buckle.  Ron was there, and he congratulated me and hugged me too.  What an indescribable feeling!

Finish videos!

I made my way over to the blanket laid out for me and thanked Bard, Ricki, and their kids.  Chris Swedenborg was there waiting on his wife to finish the 50 and he gave me a hearty congratulations.  I took off my shoes, got some food, texted friends and family, and proceeded to pass out immediately.  About an hour later, Bard woke me up, and helped me check into my room at the hotel.  I showered quickly, then walked like a zombie over to the finish line to cheer others in.  I checked the online results and saw that Tom and Monique had checked into Mount Werner.  Shortly thereafter, Tom crossed with Monique in tow.  I was so proud of my friends for their success!  Alan was there with his huge contingent and so was Lisa.  I was able to meet a lot of new friends at the finish.  There were some jokes about how I had “enough time to sleep and shower” but it was all in good fun.  Next, I saw Mark cross the line and I was so happy to just be present in the moment sharing this event with like-minded, awesome people.  Colorado Springs represented well in this race.

I did not last long after I finished.

I think the thought of never running a 100 again crossed my mind two or three times on the road down from Mount Werner, but not less than a few hours later and I was ready to do another one.  Run Rabbit Run is a qualifier for some awesome races, so I am ready to enter some lotteries.  I am definitely putting my name in for Western States, but I may wait for more experience before attempting entering Hardrock.  This is such an amazing journey and I do not want it to end.  I will keep at it until I can no longer do it.  I will keep searching for and Feeding My Crazy.

Cold water therapy for Monique and I after the race!

THANK YOU:  First and foremost, I need to thank Bard and Ricki Parnell for their unwavering support.  I am beyond words and heartfelt thanks for two people I’ve only known for a few short years, who would sacrifice their weekend for me, crew me most of the day and night, and run a combined total of 63 miles with me!  Thank you guys for inspiring me through Feed Your Crazy and allowing me to spread the word and a be a part of the movement.  Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, I am there for you two.  Never doubt that.  I want to send a huge thanks to Lisa Dinwoodie for providing support to me in the early 30+ miles of this race.  You were out there to support Monique, but you offered me aid for the sections where I was alone and it was helpful beyond belief.  Thank you to Fred Abramowitz for putting on this event and to all the volunteers and sponsors.  You are true heroes to me.  These were the best aid stations I have EVER seen in a race.  Every time I arrived my drop bag was placed in my crew’s hands or mine.  You guys were on point!  I am forever grateful.  Thank you Pearl Izumi for allowing me to be on the 2015 Champion Team, for the camaraderie and community I get to be a part of, promoting your awesome products, and for a pair of Trail N2 V2’s that were fantastic throughout the entire race.  Thanks to all the Warriors who toed the line determined to run this race, both Hares and Tortoises, finishers, and non-finishers.  Each and every one of you inspires me!  Finally, I want to thank all my family, friends, and coworkers who provided words of encouragement and support before, during, and after this event.  Much love to all!

Odds and Ends:  Many people want to know what I eat during these events.  For once, I had zero stomach issues.  I attribute this to two things:  First, I ensured that my Ultimate Direction vest was not too tight (thanks for the tip Ricki), and second, I ate regularly and ensured that I hydrated enough, but not too much.  A third guess would be that I wasn’t running like the wind as most of the elites were.  My food staples that I carried were Justin’s Nut Butters (Chocolate Hazelnut, Maple, and Vanilla) for fat and protein.  Skratch chews, vFuel and Honey Stinger waffles for carbs.  Skratch drink mix for electrolytes in one of my bottles.  I also used two salt tablets at each aid station, and chewed on Tums when my stomach felt too full.  At night, I ate chicken broth with potatoes, and even mixed in some bacon and eggs.  I also had ginger ale at each aid station.  Occasionally, I took Tylenol as a precaution for pain and swelling towards the late miles.  That’s about it.

 Shoes, buckle, and bib.