Waking up on race day morning, I focused on slipping into a pre-race routine. I dropped off my aid bags. The race organizers recommended an AM drop-off because bears had been coming into the race site and messing with food and aid bags the night before.
I also needed to eat, pick up my SPOT device and gear up – fill my backpack with water, nutrition and make sure I had all the necessary gear – rain jacket, rain pants, warm shirt, headlamp and everything else. I knocked off the drop bags first which gave me a sense of completion – there was nothing more to prepare for what was ahead, just get myself ready to start.
I walked back to the van, dressed and ate breakfast – sweet potatoes, walnuts and a banana. Lena boiled water for coffee and then I only had my SPOT device to pick up. I headed over, did that, and everything was set and the waiting began. We had about 20 minutes before the start, and I felt nervous energy from everyone. I tried to stay calm and tell myself that I was ready but really, I was nervous.
From the race briefing the day before, there seemed to be a lot of first-time 200-milers – I guessed about 60% of the runners were tackling their first 200-miler, which gave me some confidence knowing how much more experience I had having done this distance before. I’d done it two years ago, and I knew I could do it again.
As I walked to and from the bathroom and back and forth to the van, I felt a combination of nerves but also a sense of belonging – that the race was here, and I was here, and this was my place. I knew I did my very best to prepare for the race and thought about everything I’d put into my training and preparation over the last nine months, and since July, I put in three months of very good training designed to improve my fitness and strengthen my resolve.
Even so, life at work had be hectic, especially over the last six weeks as I made several changes to the company based on how we were doing and the new directions that I needed to take the business. This was stressful. I was working most evenings and leaving the house by 6:00am most mornings for weeks on end, fitting in my training mostly during the day – I’d break from the office in the afternoon to do 7-10 mile runs, or head over to campus for what I called my “UC-Davis Day” – a Cross-Fit style workout that included 10×10, 11×11 and 12×12 workouts – sets of pull-ups, push-ups, jumping squats and then either 200-yard sprints or stair climbing. These were both physically and mentally exhausting, necessary both for training and stress-relief.
On the weekends, I did my long runs on Wednesday or Saturday mornings, and was able to fit in a couple of solid trail runs along the way. I did three-mile repeats at Pena Adobe – once doing five rounds and another time doing three rounds while wearing a 40-lb weight vest. I headed out to Stebbins Canyons to get in some climbing miles on technical terrain. I did a 24-mile trail run on PCT about six weeks before the race. I had planned to run the Mt. Diablo 50k as a final race prep about four weeks before the start, but I was feeling tired and opted for family time instead that weekend.
Most Fridays, I did lifting workout in the garage – usually shoulder presses, kettlebell swings, squats and occasionally some burpees followed with 5-7 rounds of 600-yard sprints around the block. On Sunday mornings, I did another garage workout of pull-ups, deadlifts and box jumps followed by a two-mile time trial around my neighborhood.
In Portland back in July, I ran as many hills as I could, frequenting Forest Park. I did all of my training without food or nutrition, even my 4-5 hour trail runs. Going all the way back to the start of the year, I slowly built up my endurance engine in January, February and March with longer, slower miles, then focused on speed work in April in preparation for the Bryce Canyon 100 in May. I ran three local 50ks early in the season – the FOURmidable in February, Ruck-a-Chuck in March and the Napa 50k in April. I had a solid race at Bryce Canyon – a 30-hour trudge that tested my mettle. I thought I’d take a longer break after Bryce Canyon, but found myself back into a training regimen within a week feeling antsy and ready.
I had a couple of nagging injuries throughout my training – my right hamstring has had a knot in it since last year that won’t go away. One of the muscles high on my right leg – the iliacus, pectineus, or psoas major (not sure which) – had been strained years ago and healed last year, but I was feeling it again. The tendon on the outside top of my left foot was sprained – I felt a sharp pain if I landed unevenly whenever I ran on the trail, which is kind of a problem because one tends to land unevenly often when trailing running.
About three weeks before the race, I bonked during a 10-mile midday run – I just simply lost my legs and had to jog-walk back to the office for three miles. From there, I wound down my training, calling it an extended taper, just working on getting back my legs and staying fit with garage workouts. But even with the physical maladies and the extended taper, I knew my cardio engine was really strong, muscularly I felt great and my body was fat-adapted for fuel. In the weeks before the race, I fasted each day until lunch and stayed away completely from sugar, carbs and alcohol, except an occasional small glass of red wine on Sunday night with dinner.
This race was a quest that started back in November – nearly ten months ago when the idea first came to mind that, for whatever reason, I wanted to give the Tahoe 200 another go. When I finished in 2017, I was so elated with my race that I thought I wouldn’t want to run the race again for fear of doing worse or having a bad experience. I wanted nothing to spoil that accomplishment, but even after that race as friends would ask me about it, I would say that if I ever did go back, I’d want to see if I could break 72 hours – a full ten hours faster than my 2017 finishing time of 82:00:16, two hours ahead of my stretch goal of 84 hours.
Since the 2017 race, I’d become a much stronger runner with two 100s under my belt (Zion and Bryce Canyon), the Mt. Hood 50-miler and several 50ks. I was much stronger and even more fit than two years ago, and looking at my 2017 race, I knew there were hours I could chop off simply by moving more quickly through aid stations and sleeping less. Combining those “free” hours with running faster made me feel like I could get down to 72 hours if I had the perfect race.
I purposely waited until the race was full to register so that I would be on the wait list and have more time to decide if I wanted to do the race. I jumped on the wait list in December and it wasn’t until May 1 that my name cleared. When I got the email notification, I was in the lobby of a hotel San Francisco in the middle of a three-day client event. I texted Lena:
After all of that, there I was, standing at Homewood Mountain Resort feeling nervous and anxious, but knowing that I’d done pretty much everything I wanted to do in my training and preparation. I knew I was as ready as I could be.
The final countdown
Per usual with me, I was scurrying to the starting gate with little time to spare before the start, even with two hours since waking up to get ready. (I don’t know why I do this every race…) As the starting time crept closer, I made a couple of bathroom runs, including once during the national anthem. I could hear it in the background and was sorry to miss it because it was a wonderful rendition, but when ya gotta go…
Candice led us in the ultra-runner’s oath, taken from Micah True (a.k.a. Caballo Blanco) – “If I get lost, hurt or die, it’s my own damn fault.” She gave the countdown from ten and we started.
The question that nags me constantly – “Am I a good dad?”
I know that I am in a relative sense – I do my very best to be patient and present, and to provide opportunities to experience and learn life’s lessons.
I also know I can do better.
I do well in the idiosyncratic situations of parenthood – figuring out how to get him down the mountain during a crappy weather day on the mountain, and getting him excited for yet another summer camp in Portland where he doesn’t know any other kids.
This week, we’re on vacation in Squaw Valley. Yesterday was day three, and with wet snow coming down that forecast to change to rain, we faced the “Should we give it a shot?” ski decision.
We gave it a shot. The open trails were modest blues I had scouted the day before – all trails I knew Benjamin could ski. But that was the day before, and this was today.
The trails that had been groomed hours ago were now covered in 6 inches of wet snow, and the conditions were just a little too tough for him.
So there we were, atop the mountain, struggling to keep his skis attached, and experiencing the typical frustrations that go with a tough day on the mountain, or any situation where one might have felt thrust into without complete free will.
Whether you’re seven or forty-seven, we’ve all been on a proverbial mountain at one time or another and decidedly did not want to be there. And there he lay, face down in the snow, a ski off one leg, the other ski somehow still attached, twisted under his body. Within three minutes of hopping off the lift, all confidence was lost and any chance for fun evaporated.
We tried pizza turns from side to side on the trail. We tried side-stepping down the mountain.
We tried encouraging. We tried cajoling.
We tried lying – “You’ve skied much tougher runs…” (he hadn’t given the weather and wet snow) and “This isn’t a blue, it’s a green.” (It was a blue).
We tried austerity – “Not being able to do something is okay, but not trying to do something isn’t okay. You have to try.”
I even picked him up skied with him between my legs for a stretch, partly because that was the quickest way down that particular section and partly hoping that might make him feel a little embarrassed that he had to be carried down the slope.
Nothing worked.
The wet snow indeed turned to rain, and the three of us stood there staring at each other, the weather, and the slope ahead. I tried to imagine myself at seven years old and how I felt in a situation that was beyond my willingness to tolerate. I couldn’t remember specifics, but I definitely remembered that feeling of quit.
Then I told him – “Okay, here’s the deal – the only way off the mountain is to ski down. There are two ways we can do this – the slow way or the fast way. Right now, it’s raining and it’s cold, and none of us want to be here right now. The sooner we get off the mountain the better, so here’s what I want you to do – Point your skis down the mountain and pizza your way as far as you can, and when you fall, laugh.”
That was all I had left.
It worked.
He pointed and pizza-ed to the bottom of that section and then yard-saled. When I caught up, he was smiling. So we did it again. And again until the slope leveled out and the ski lifts were in sight. It took us close to an hour and a half to grind our way down the mountain on that single run.
We unbuckled, celebrated, and headed in for lunch.
Later we played foosball, had a snowball fight, read Harry Potter and had movie night in the hotel room. Life was good again. You can tell from this story that I’m pretty damned proud of myself – these are the situations of parenthood I do well.
It’s the other stuff that’s the toughest – the constant self-questioning about how I handle day-to-day situations – the inevitable morning fight to get ready for school, negotiating how many bites before he can be finished dinner, and how to motivate him for his jiu-jitsu classes. I try everything from patience to incentives to idle threats to raising my voice. The yelling is most embarrassing because I’m the adult and I’m supposed to be the mature one. The incentives bother me – why does he need ice cream as motivation to go to jut-jitsu when he absolutely loves it when he gets there and tells me after class how much fun it was?
Why is the hard stuff in parenthood easy, and the day-to-day stuff so hard?
How perfect do I need to be?
When he’s 17, or 27 or 57, or even just tonight when he’s lying in bed, will he only remember my annoyance over finding socks before school or telling him to hurry up because we’re going to be late?
How much will he remember foosball, movie night, Harry Potter and surviving our ski adventure?
I’m often asked about my training regimen, and while I blog about specifics here and there in various posts, I thought I’d pull together a more complete view of how I train.
This post covers:
Suggested books & experts worth checking out
LSD vs HIT
My “No Wasted Miles” Philosophy
Example Run Workouts
Example Cross-Fit & Weight-lifting Workouts
Breathing
Nutrition & Fasting
Race Results
DISCLAIMER: Always consult a professional before embarking on any training program or regimen. I am sharing for informational purposes only – I am NOT a professional coach, trainer or medical expert.
Power Speed Endurance (PSE) – I’ve worked with the experts AT PSE over the past two years, first in 2016 for Uberman and this year ramping up the for the Zion 100 ultra-marathon. They have a huge bank of free resources, and you can pay $100/year to access their daily workout programs.
Kevin Coady at TriForce– I worked with Kevin for most recent two Ironman triathlons in 2011 and 2013. Following his programs, I reduced Ironman time by almost exactly 60 minutes, from 12:59:20 in 2010 to 11:59:49 in 2011 on the same course. Then in 2013, I reduced my time down to 11:20 at IroNman Asia-Pacific in Melbourne.
SWITCHING FROM LSD TO HIT
I used to believe in LSD Training: Long Slow Distance. That got me through my first Ironman races and early endurance running because that’s what everyone told me I needed to do. (“Just get in the miles…”) Then I made a switch to a High Intensity Training (HIT), first starting during my latter Ironman training when my wife introduced us to Cross-Fit. But still, I wasn’t a full convert. I continued to straddle between weight-lifting/Cross-Fit workouts and still believing that I needed to log long miles.
As I ramped up training for Uberman in 2016, I hit the limit. In a single week in July 2016, my training included (See: “Uberman Training Update”):
Swim: 32,000 yards (18.35 miles)
Bike: 151.5 miles
Run: 20 miles
Weightlifting: Two (2) short sessions focused on posterior chain and stability I was out of time and energy to do any more distance in a week.
The final switch was made after a consulting session with Brian MacKenzie at PSE Endurance in July 2016. After sharing my LSD training schedule with Brian, he told me – “The engine is built. You don’t need to do any more distance. You need to build your strength so that your muscles don’t breakdown.” [paraphrase]
Now as a full convert to HIT, I’m baffled by how often people measure progress by their weekly mileage. This is usually the wrong metric to use, because it doesn’t measure how one is improving on their strength, speed and endurance. It’s just a tally. Sure, it’s important to be able to run a fundamental minimum of base miles without stressing or injuring your body. That’s sort of table stakes for any kind of long-distance running.
But after those baseline miles, the rest of the miles are just a vanity metric. Do you really gain that much more from running the extra 20 or 30 miles in a week? Yes, there is marginal benefit, and that comes at a marginal cost of time and injury. I’d rather use that time to strengthen (or rest!) so that when I’m out on the course, my body can withstand the constant pounding it’s taking with every step.
No Wasted Miles
I don’t need to run 100 or 50 or even 40 miles in a week because I’m extremely efficient in my training, and I measure that which matters most to my training. My workouts and training measure my level of strength and conditioning, because if I’m hitting certain metric on that front, I know that come race day, whether I’m toeing the line for a 50k or 200-miler, I know that I’m ready to have a successful race.
All of these workouts measure conditioning and recovery time, not how long I can run.
A few examples of metrics:
Speed maintenance, and improvement, in 200-meter speed on a repeatable basis (10-12 intervals) – Can I maintain or improve my 200m times over 10-12 intervals?
Recovery heart rate down to 99 bpm from it’s peak after 800-meter intervals.
Ability to maintain nasal breathing at faster running speeds.
Recovery (heart rate and pace) after an intra-run interval, ranking from 60-seconds to 1/2 mile.
Example run workouts:
1 – The 99bpm Hear Rate Workout: This is one of my “favorite” (read: painful) running workouts. It’s 6 x 800 meters. After a 1-2 mile warm-up, I go all out for 800 meters (~ 1/2 mile), then stop and wait for my heart rate to drop from it’s peak – usually around 165bpm to 99bpm. Depending on the day and the rep in the set, this can take anywhere from 2-3 minutes. Sometimes a little shorter (90 seconds), and sometimes a little longer (up to 4 minutes).
What am I measuring?
This measures my ability to ramp up to and recover from extended hard efforts. It’s rare on the trail that I ever hit 160+ bpms, and if I do, that should mean that a bear is chasing me… But knowing that I can push up quickly and recover quickly indicates a high conditioning level.
2 – 200 meter interval times: Another “favorite” is 10 reps x 200 meters, with a 2-minute rest between intervals. For someone that runs 50, 100, and 200 mile races, doing speed work like this might sound strange. It builds muscular strength and speed, and builds on lactate thresholds and metabolic conditioning.
What am I measuring?
How much I’m able to hold, and improve, on every interval my time throughout the workout. If I can maintain or improve throughout the workout, I know that I’m in good conditioning and strength.
3 – “Every Mile Faster” (while nasal breathing throughout): This is a good workout for both shorter and longer runs (6-9 miles), and useful anytime I need a way to push myself while assessing my overall conditioning.
After a one-mile warm-up, I slowly ratchet up my pace by 15-20 seconds every mile for the duration of the run, leaving a mile at the end for cool down and recovery. Example times (which I realize may seem either remarkably slow or fast depending on who’s reading this post…):
Mile 1: 8:15 min/mile (warm-up)
Mile 2: 7:50 min/mile
Mile 3: 7:30 min/mile
Mile 4: 7:15 min/mile
Mile 6: 7:00 min/mile
Mile 7: 6:45 min/mile
Mile 8: 6:30 min/mile
Mile 9: 7:30 min/mile (recovery)
What am I measuring?
I use this workout as a means to assess my capacity to handle an increasing workload, while maintaining nasal breathing. If I can hammer down into the sub-7:00 min/mile and sustain that pace while pulling in enough oxygen by nasal breathing, I know my conditioning is in a good place.
4 – Long Intervals
During a longer run, I’ll push myself for anywhere from 1/4 mile to one-mile intervals – going as hard as I can for that prescribed distance, then giving myself that same distance to recover before starting another interval.
Cross-Fit & Weightlifting
CAUTION: You MUST be VERY, VERY careful with any sort of weight-training Absolutely, positively work with a trained professional on form and workout structure. Here in Davis, we’re fortunate to have a kick-ass CrossFit gym – CrossFit Davis. Even light work with kettlebells and dumbbells can cause injury if you don’t have the right form, or if you’re stressing your ligaments and tendons before they are ready.
Muscles strengthen much faster than you ligaments and tendons, so while you might have the muscular strength to lift a certain amount of weight, your ligaments and tendons can tear because they’re not used to the stress and weight. Again, working with a coach that teaches you the right form and balance, and knowing the form trumps absolute weight is critical here. Check out this Tim Ferris Podcast with former US national team gymnastics coach Chris Sommer on this topic.
Over the past few years, we’ve accumulated a variety of equipment for a home gym. We started with kettlebells, then dumbbells, then a wall ball, then a box for box jumps, then a squat rack with a pull-up bar and barbell, and finally weight vest.
The good news, is that I’ve found that you don’t need a big inventory of equipment to make a major impact in your strength and conditioning. Even a few kettlebells couple with body weight exercises go me plenty of gain in strength and conditioning. A couple of years ago, I had knee surgery and could only do push-ups, sit-ups, and dumbbell snatches for weeks on end, and those alone helped me retain some semblance of conditioning. When I’m traveling for work, hotel gyms offer very little in terms of equipment, yet I can get a plenty good workout while on the road.
A basic starting body workout looks something like this:
Even if you have to rest intra-set, i.e. do 10 then 10 then 5 pushups to get to 25 in the set, don’t stress. 🙂
Eventually I worked in some light weights so a typical workout was something like:
4 rounds of:
25 kettlebell swings
25 Wall balls
25 Dumbell snatches
25 Burpees
Now with a squat rack and weights, a pretty standard workout is something like:
Lifting: Deadlifts (4-5 rounds of 5-6 reps @ 70-80% weight)
Conditioning: 4-5 rounds of:
5 pull-ups
25 burpee box jumps
25 kettle bell swings
25 jumping squats
Then there are the two-a-days….
Some days, I’ll do both running and lifting, either as two separate workouts, or as a single workout with running then lifting. For example this week, I did a 6-mile run with long intervals, then in the garage did 8 x 6 pull-ups and 5 x 5-10 deadlights.
Even without the “full” workout, after a run, adding 100 kettlebell swings or 100 Wall Balls will really kick your butt and goes a long way for strength and conditioning.
Breathing
Working with PSE this year, their training program includes breathing as a cornerstone to all training, with pre-, during, and and post-workout breathing protocols. Check out a few videos here on YouTube on this topic.
Three (3) breathing practices I’ve instituted:
1 – Nasal Breathing. Nasal breathing is an addition to my training regimen this year. I first heard about nasal-only breathing from Scott Jurek in his book “Eat and Run.” Now I ONLY nasal breathe when in my run workouts, no matter hard I’m running. On much longer runs (i.e. 20-mile trail runs), I’ll let myself mouth breath if I need the oxygen, but mostly I’m nasal breathing. Even during the Zion 100, I was nasal breathing most of the way.
As it was described to me, nasal breathing is more natural and your nasal breathing filters your oxygen intake, while your mouth is designed for eating and emergency breathing. When you nasal breathe, you’re pulling in higher quality breaths, and helping your body remain calm.
2 – Pre- and Post-Workout Breathing Exercises – This usually means 10 deep inhales and exhales, followed by a 30-60 second hold. I’ll do 1-3 rounds of this to oxygenate my body before exercise.
3 – Morning Breath Holds – ONLY do this if you know what you’re doing. I meditate most mornings, and after a 15-20 minute silent meditation, I do a breath hold which means that I take 2-3 deep breaths, then hold after the last intake. I typically shoot for three (3) minutes on each hold and can usually get there. Some mornings, I can go a bit longer. My record is 4:15. This helps build lung capacity and helps you realize how much farther you can push your physical limits.
Again… ONLY do this if you know what you’re doing. Take it slow, and consult a professional. Check out The WimHof Method for more on breathing if you want to get really, really serious on this.
Nutrition
I’m a low-carb person. I define this as consuming fewer than 50 grams of net carbs per day, and increasing to 100 grams of carbs per day based on when I’m consuming more carbs. (More on this below…)
My primary goal is to train my body to be fat-adapted – burn stored fat for fuel as much as possible.
I started with a low carb diet without realizing it after reading the book “Running Weight” a few years back (see above) as I started training for Ironman #2. I weighed about 200-205 lbs for Ironman #1, and while on a bike ride with a friend, I was complaining about a climb. He told me – “You’ve need to lose to some weight.” Message received. (Thank you, Michael L.!)
Using the book “Running Weight” as a I guide, I was able to get down to 190 lbs over 6-8 weeks and I’ve kept that weight off, and then some. My “racing weight” is now 183 lbs, and I can consistently stay under 185 lbs throughout training. As Lena introduced Cross-Fit into our lives, we adopted a Paleo Diet.
I’ve experimented with a Ketogenic Diet twice – first is April 2017 then again in January 2018, but I’ve had a hard time getting down under 20 net carbs per day, even when tracking every calorie and food morsel I consumed. Plus I found that as I experiment with timing my carb intake post-workout, my recovery times and energy have improved. Most days, I keep to the 50 net carbs target, but will increase my carb intake immediately after particularly hard running workouts and weightlifting – ideally within the first 15 minutes and for sure within the “Golden Hour.”
Check out this podcast interview with Art Zemach (founder of Tailwind) on Trailrunner Nation for more on this. If you’re concerned with the validity and bias of the founder of a company that sells high-carb products, there is plenty of alternative sources that also support this, such as this article on BodyBuilding Magazine. Post-workout for example, I’ll eat a tablespoon of honey, 1-2 tablespoons of jam or jelly, 1 tablespoon of maple syrup, a handful of jelly beans, and then wash all that down with a whey protein shake (I used 3Fu3l, a PSE product). Again, I do this immediately after the workout and only do this after difficult workouts – following long, hard runs and weight-lifting/Cross-Fit workouts.
This is a topic of much debate, so I suggest doing some more research on your own and experimenting. Even if the effects I’m experiencing are placebo, that’s good enough for me. But I believe them to be more than placebo, as I have felt improved recovery times and improved energy levels when I consume high-glycemic carbs just after a hard workout.
I absolutely recommend the Cronometer App for tracking your food intake. They have an excellent free version. (I use the paid version so that I can see trending reports on my diet). I’ve found this app useful in several ways:
Shows me actually calories and the breakdown of caloric intake by macronutrient (protein, fat, carbohydrates).
You can set the app for a particular type of diet – Keto, Paleo, etc. and it will show you daily macronutrient targets.
It’s taught me to properly estimated quantities of food – i.e. How much is 2 oz of cheese? What does 1 cup of milk look like in a glass? How much salmon or chicken is included in restaurant salads?
It’s shown me how to improve micronutrient intake – Vitamin A, B, C, etc. For example, Lena discovered that cooked spinach drastically increases the micronutrients released vs raw spinach.
Fasting
Fasting is a new addition to my nutrition plan this year. I started with a morning fast back in February – going until 2pm on a Sunday before I ate anything. Then did a daily fast through dinner for four straight days in March. By late March and into April, I did a daily fast each Tuesday for 3-4 weeks because Tuesdays are usually my rest days in my workout schedule. I found that this had a huge benefit for me in several ways:
Reduces my mental dependence on food. When you know you’re not going to eat, it teaches you other ways to cope with hunger – water, green tea, or talking a walk. This is also huge when I’m out on the race course, knowing that I don’t have to take in a huge amount of calories – I can take in 200-300 calories per hour and avoid feeling hunger, while still maintaining the energy I need to keep going out there.
Reduces my physical dependence In the past, I’ve eaten constantly during my training – always hungry. I remember during Uberman, I was ALWAYS eating. I’d eat dinner, then be hungry an hour later. I didn’t need the short-term calories – I just needed to teach my body to burn a different fuel source.
Keeps my weight down. I generally lose 2-3 lbs in a day when I fast, and while some of that is water weight. The body stores 3 grams of water for every gram of carbohydrate. Eating fewer carbs, and burning through the glycogen stores in your muscles on fasting days then reduces the amount of water your body needs to retain.
On most workouts, I only take water with me, mostly because few of my workouts are more than 90 minutes so my body already has all of the glycogen stores it needs for fuel. But even for longer workouts, I’ll purposely reduce caloric intake to train my body to burn fat for fuel. For example, I did a very hilly 5-hour, 19.5-mile trail run a few weeks back, and I purposely kept my total caloric intake to 600 calories throughout the entire run.
I started this during Uberman training after reading Sami Inkinen’s blog post – “Becoming a Bonk Proof Triathlete: Fat Chance!?” I’d go on 4-5 hour bike rides with only water. I usually feel some hunger around 60-75 minute into a workout session, and found that if I can push through 15-30 minutes of hunger, then my body switches and I’m good to go without a hit of carbohydrates.
The Results
I can’t say what my results would be if I were to take another approach than what I’m describing here. I do know that my overall speed, fitness and rankings in my Age Group and Overall have improved over the years, and I’m now consistently in the top 15-25% of all racers in most races.
That could be simply because of the additive effect of training over time, plus general intelligence I’ve accumulated on how to race, but I suspect there’s something more to it.
Here are results from my races over the past year.
For your typical 40-something just getting out there to challenge myself, I’ll take these results. I like to think of myself as one of the fastest of the slow runners. I’m never going to be a top 10% runner, but given the reduced time I put into training compared to most runners, and my recovery times and ability to maintain fitness without race-day injuries, I’m pretty darn happy with where I am.
I’m now less than three weeks away from the starting line of the Zion 100. I’m often asked how I prep for these big races, so I thought I’d share how the last couple of weeks go leading into a big race.
This isn’t everything, but it’s most everything…
Diet & Nutrition
On Saturday’s trail run (~20 miles and 6500’ of climbing over 5+ hours on the Western States Trail), I intentionally took in fewer calories along the way to teach my body to respond to the need for fuel by burning stored fat vs short-term carbs.
I drank two coffees before the run – one with coconut oil, the other with heavy cream, then drank 200 calories of 3Fu3l. During the run, I drank 400 calories of 3Fu3l and 200 calories of Tailwind – not a completely fasted workout, but definitely low fuel, no solid food and I fought some hunger out there. After the run and yesterday on Easter, I did my last face-stuffing – too much in fact. I’ve gained about 6-7 pounds. Some of that weight is food weight, some is water retention from the gluten and sugar, as I can feel some swelling in my joints and extremities.
So today begins the last push – no more cheat days. No more alcohol. I’ll do day-time fasts today and tomorrow to cleanse from the weekend, drop a few pounds and get back to racing weight. From here, it’s all about a low-carb, high-fat diet to help myself stay fat-burning out on the trail. This includes lots of super food like organ meat (liver and onions!), cooked spinach, and tons of greens and healthy oils.
About a week leading into the race, I’ll also try to ween myself off of coffee because I’ll need the caffeine boost get through the night on the trail.
Training
Starting back with Ironman training, I learned from the traditional tapering methods that once I’m about three weeks out from a race, there’s really no more gain that can be done. And while I don’t follow the traditional 2-3 week tapering method anymore, I do accept that once I’m about 2-3 weeks out from a race, the idea of generating more gains from training adds more risk than reward.
I look at the last few weeks of training as a block of training episodes – I have about 10 more workouts in total, and there’s a certain mental lode lifted knowing that I only have that many workout sessions left, and that each one is just checking the box to keep me sharp and strong and ready for the race.
That means about 6-7 runs, and 4-5 lifting sessions. Yes, that adds up to more than 10 training sessions in two weeks, which brings me to the next part of training.
I’ve learned not to stress too much about missing a training session or two during these last couple of weeks. I usually have to load up a little on work-related activity to help me make up ahead of time for the time that I’ll miss from work. These big races can take at least 3-4 workdays away, and in the case of Zion, it’ll be a full week, so I want to make sure that clients have what they need while I’m away. While they’ll all certainly survive and thrive without me for a week, there’s a mental aspect that’s important for me to know that I’m fulfilling my duties to them.
Physical
As I scale back on training, I’m also looking for ways to get healthy. There are a couple types of injuries:
Debilitating: These are injuries that make the race a no-go altogether. Last year, for example, I had hamstring problems in January and February that forced me to call off the 100-mile race I had resisted for in March.
Manageable: This year, I have two of these. My left pubic tendon is strained. This is the same injury I had on my right tendon for nearly two years – a year leading into Uberman and a year after Uberman. It finally healed a couple months ago, and for some unbelievable reason, I have the same injury now on my left tendon. My second manageable injury in a mid-hamstring knot in my left leg that cropped up a few months ago, and despite weekly efforts, it just won’t go away. Both of these are annoying, and probably impact performance at some level, but I don’t feel these injuries when I’m training or racing, so it’s a matter of managing these injuries to make sure they don’t become debilitating.
Recoverable: These are chips and nicks I’m feeling that have cropped up or come and go. Right now, my left calf has a strain. This crops up from time to time, and it’s tender and sore, and I know that paying attention to it these next two weeks will get it back close to 100% before race day. My left quad has a bit of knot in it – same as my calf, I know it’s recoverable if I keep rolling it and working on it.
Packing & Equipment
I use a large plastic storage tub to accumulate various items that I want to pack for the race. This includes all of my gear and nutrition, just to take stock of what I need. For big races, there’s too much to remember in a single packing episode (besides the stress of it), so I’ve learned to spread packing over a couple of weeks. As I think of something I want to bring along, I grab it or buy it and throw it in the tub. Not everything in the tub makes the cut, but at this approach prevents me from forgetting something I really wanted or needed to pack.
I’ll also do a final look at whatever equipment I may need to buy. Surprisingly, no matter how much I race, there’s always more to buy. For the Tahoe 200, the list was large – trail-running shoes, a hydration pack, rain gear, and trekking poles led the list. This time around, I don’t think I’ll need much new stuff because of the amount of stuff purchased for Uberman and the Tahoe 200, but regardless I’ll stockpile now so that I’m not forgetting anything I’ll really need like iodine pills or nutrition (I just bought more of both this morning…)
These books and podcasts remind that however crazy I might seem to the people around me, there are always crazier, tougher, stronger people out there that leave plenty of room for me to claim sanity in my race endeavors.
The Larger Plan & Next Race
There’s something about knowing that this race won’t be my last, that it’s a stepping stone to something else, or part of a larger plan.
Zion will be my first 100-mile race, so there’s a clear “check the box” aspect to this distance.
It’s is a part of a larger plan:
Zion a Western States 100 qualifier, so Zion earns me a lottery ticket for the 2019 race, plus having completed a qualifier I can apply to the spot available to our local running club for running an aid station at the race.
It’s a six-point race towards qualifying for the 2019 UMTB, and it’s also a six-point race as part of the ITRA system towards Patagonia-Chile.
Later this year, I’m planning to do the Castle Peak 100k, which is a five-point race for both UTMB and Patagonia, which will round out qualifying for both of those races.
Finally, after finishing the Tahoe 200 last year, I realized that with some planning and staying healthy, I could run the complete series of running distances in one calendar year:
Trail Marathon: Mt. Diablo (2017)
50K: Ruck a Chuck (2018), Mt Hood (2018)
40 mile: Pacing at Javelina (October 2017)
50 mile: TBD (May 2018)
100k: Castle Peak (August 2018)
100 mile: Zion (April 2018)
200 mile: Tahoe 200 (September 2017)
This feels like a really solid personal accomplishment and a good story to tell, so why not give it a shot?
Last night, while reading Alex Hutchinson’s book, I learned about the Tor des Géants – a 200-mile race with 80,000’ of climbing and a 150-hour time limit. It’s in September and still has spots open.
Hmmm… So many races, so little time…
Logistics & Race Planning
I learned this from Kevin Coady, my triathlon coach for Ironman #2 and #3. He had be write out a complete day-by-day, hour-by-hour plan for the 2-3 days leading into the race.
I worked with Simon Marshall (book above) before the Tahoe 200, and he had me write out all of the things that could possibly go wrong during the race and how I would respond to each situation. I’ve got that work to do, as well as the actual race plan – breaking down the course section-by-section, mile-by-mile to know where I’ll be by when and where I might be able to have Lena meet me for race support, though I’m expecting to do this race self-supported because we’ll have an RV and it’s out in the desert. No pacer either – just me, my drop bags and the course.
Most of the big travel logistics are handled – plane tickets to Las Vegas, RV rented, campsite booked. Now it’s time for the minutiae – what can we pack vs buy when we arrive to Las Vegas, including cooking equipment and food that I absolutely need to bring from home.
The Demons emerge weeks before the race – “Will I be ready?”
The Demons assemble when the clock reads 5:43am and the thermostat informs me that it’s 38 degrees outside. I’m standing in my pajamas about to change and step into the garage for a workout of deadlifts, pull-ups and burpees.
The Demons amass when the alarm buzzes at 4:30am on race day morning – “Am I really going to scrape myself out of bed for this today?”
The Demons chuckle when you arrive to the race site and start gearing up – “Can I just go back to my car and go home?”
The Demons snicker at the starting line – “Will I need to pull a DNF out there?”
The Demons remind you that turning back is always an option – that you don’t have to go another step; that you can just wait at the aid station; that you can quit any time.
The Demons clutch your muscles – gripping your quads, your calves, your feet. They lodge in your brain and attack like a virus.
The Demons blazed at 2:00am on Day 1 of the Tahoe 200. I’d been moving for 17 hours already – by far the longest I’d ever gone in a single go – slogging up a 2000’ climb behind a English guy I latched onto as my unofficial pacer.
Trudge, trudge, trudge.
Grind, grind, grind.
I was tired and frustrated and out of water. The Demons laughed – “What happened to the water station they promised back at Mile 50? Where the hell is the peak of this climb? When the fuck am I going to get to the Sierra-at-Tahoe rest stop? What the fuck am I doing out here?”
Then English Guy broke the silence to join forces with the Demons – “Ne’er ending, itn’t it?”
Even when you know you’re going to finish, the Demons whisper – “You’re not going to hit you goal time. You might as well slow down. Stop trying so damn hard.”
The Demons persist when you’re making that last push in the final miles – “You’re more than two hours behind the leaders. No one cares about your time. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. A finish is a finish. Just walk. No one will care.”
It doesn’t matter if it’s a 200-mile race or box jump #14 in a set of 100. They ask – “Am I really putting myself through this?”
You can never beat the Demons. You can’t exterminate them. You don’t have to. They’re there, and they’ll always be there.
They strengthen with the immobility of fear and doubt and worry – they want you to stop. They need you to stop.
They fear the moment you decide to do something hard. They panic when you decide to keep moving forward.
I knew I was in for an ass-kicking going into Saturday’s Ruck a Chuck. It was just that, and I loved every minute of it.
Well, I loved every minute of it after it was over that is…
Hamstrung
I’ve been training for the Zion 100 since early January, and wanted to do a 50k back in early February as an early gauge of fitness. I’d had my eye on Ruck a Chuck since January, thinking that I’d use it as a second 50k to benchmark my training progress. I expected January to be my “strength month,” February to be my “length month” and March to be my “sharpen & speed month.”
But alas, all of that unwound with a moderate hamstring pull in mid-January just as I was ramping up my training. I wasn’t ready for a 50k in early February and the rest of last month didn’t get much better with a second round of hamstring problems.
On top of the injuries, work and life overtook a chunk of my typical training time, so I’ve been cutting corners on training week after week – fewer quality miles, a little less weight training and Cross-Fit, and a couple of weeks of less-than-stellar nutrition. At one point, I engaged in a 4-day fasting exercise to drop the extra weight that had crept up on me.
I was also considering the Shasta 4mph challenge this weekend, but Ruck a Chuck was closer to home – only an hour away and no overnight – and with my recent schedule with life and work, it was a better option, plus the elevation and full course would be better for testing my running fitness and nutrition planning than the back-and-forth six mile route for the Shasta 4mph challenge.
Race Day Morning
Saturday was a wet, wet, wet, wet day. I left Davis before 6:00 am, arrived to the upper parking lot at Driver’s Flat around 7am and hopped on the shuttle down the start area. I brought all of my gear down to the starting line, opting to change and pre-race down at the start area. The early morning rain was holding off so far, but the start area was muddy with soupy red clay. I found a spot on a grassy area, using my poncho as a ground covering to keep my stuff dry.
Most of my nutrition and backpack was ready to go from Friday night’s pre-race prep, so really my final prep was to make sure everything was in order and to decide what gear to wear and pack. I decided to wear my rain jacket to keep dry with the forecast and a long-sleeve running shirt underneath to stay warm, then packed an extra dry shirt and a pair of socks.
My trekking poles were the best part of my gear. From what I could tell, I was the only one that had them, and maybe they were overkill for a 50k but with the hills and the slop, I wanted a way to arrest any falls on the downhill sections and a way to pull my self up the up-hills. I love my trekking poles – easily one of the best purchases I’ve ever made in my life.
Pre-Race Prep & Expectations
Ruck a Chuck is an “out and back” course – 15.5 miles out along the Western States Trail, hit the turnaround about a mile past the Cal 1 marker, then back to the starting area. The event website didn’t have an elevation profile, so I had to look for previous year race reports for an elevation profile. From what I found, I expected the “out” portion of the course to be mostly downhill, then the back to be mostly uphill.
I did a 14-mile trail run about a month ago from Auburn to Cool and felt pretty good that day, running a couple of 8:30 min/miles on the flat and downward sloping trail sections, so I figured that if I could keep a good pace today, I should average 9:30-10:00/min miles pace on the what I thought was a mostly downhill “out” section. After hitting the turnaround, even with a 14:00 min/mile pace heading back, that’d average out to a 12:00 min/mile pace and a 6-hour finishing time finish.
The main goals were:
Don’t get injured
Find my way to the finish line.
Finish in under six hours
I’m usually pretty good about nailing my race plan – pace and time – but this time I was WILDLY off…
The first few miles…
Countdown. Air horn. And away we go!
The first mile was steep a downhill on a fire trail. I’m not much of a downhiller, so plenty of people bombed past me. I just focused on picking my way down the hill and finding a rhythm, using my trekking poles to take the pressure off my knees and legs. My hamstring problems persisted in my mind, and I wanted to make sure I was properly warmed up before worrying too much about my pace.
We hit a water crossing in the first mile – the first of about 16 or so along the trail. Better to accept it because squishy feet were going to be non-negotiable today.
Water crossings #2 and #3 in Mile 2 – both much deeper with water running up to my calves. The footing was unstable and I was happy to have my poles here again. There was an aid station right away, which seemed odd so early in the race. I skipped it, still searching for any semblance of a rhythm.
By Mile 3, I already started to feel like I was in for a long day. I expected the course to be mostly downhill for the first 15.5 miles, but we hit a little bit of an uphill which was surprising.
The good news was that as I ran, I found realized that I was nasal breathing much of the way. This has been a focus in my training runs these past six weeks – only breathing in and out of my nose. I found this to be relatively easy on slow to moderate training runs, and a bit more difficult on harder runs. It was interesting to see that I was now doing this instinctively on the course, and I used it as a governor to my pace. Comfortably nasal-breathe meant I wasn’t pushing too hard, and early in the race, there was no reason to push hard. After the short uphill and subsequent downhill, I hit more climbing at Mile 5.
WTF?!
In Mile 6, I was feeling some tightness in my upper hamstring. I didn’t feel like it was pulling, just tightness, but piano string tight… I took it easy on the pace, not that I had much choice with my overall fitness level or the course. Aside from a couple of short downhill sections, by Mile 7, I felt like I was persistently running uphill.
By Mile 8, I still hadn’t found any rhythm. It felt like work. I tried to tell myself that I was finally making a dent in the course now. I started thinking hard about the Mile 10 aid station as a checkpoint, and I figured that from the aid station, I could coax myself into another five miles to the turnaround at 15.5, and then it was just a matter of getting back to the finish.
The course to the aid station was completely uphill, and I struggled to keep semblance of a pace. I was feeling really discouraged and confused. The course wasn’t aligned with my mental model of “downhill out, uphill back” and while I expected a few rollers on the downhill out, it was discouraging to struggle so much here in the early going.
Mile 10 Aid Station
At the aid station, I took some time to figure out what I needed. Because of the weather, the two aid stations planned for later in the course were shut down, so the Mile 10 aid station would also be the last aid station until Mile 21. Depending on my pace, that meant at least two hours, and probably closer to three hours, before I’d be able to refuel again.
I wanted to be smart here to make sure I had enough water and calories, but not overload myself with too much bulk. I filled my water bladder about halfway and dumped in two Tailwind packets. I refilled my front-loaders with 3Fuel, and already had a Clif Bar and a bag of M&Ms in my zip packs – about 1200 calories – plenty for a three hour stretch.
I gobbled up a few boiled potatoes dipped in salt, looking for anything that could give me a boost. Nutritionally to this point, I’d only been taking in 3Fuel so far, and coming out of the aid station, I figured I would stick with that until I hit the turnaround, then switch over to Tailwind, which is much higher in carbs and in a past training run, I found it really gave me a noticeable jolt well into a long trail run.
Once I was fueled and ready to keep slogging, I headed out again, with more uphill. This was really confusing – I kept waiting for a sloping downhill to make up some time. My pace was well into the 11:00 min/mile pace, which was more than a little dejecting.
My Garmin showed about 9.5 miles when I finally hit the Mile 10 aid station (which would also be the Mile 21 aid station), and I pretty much felt like being out there was a bad idea. The air was cold and damp. My hamstrings were tight. I felt weak in my legs and my pace was slow. I reset, ate a few boiled potatoes dipped in salt, filled my bladder with Tailwind, and off I went.
Fighting the demons
The stretch out of the aid station continued on a moderate uphill (more WTF!?), and by the time I was a mile up the trail, my hamstring tightness worsened and I started thinking that maybe I should head back. From here, I could call it a 20-mile training run which would still be a solid day, and a step forward from where I’ve been with training this last month. But the “just keep going” side of me wanted to push to the turnaround.
Mentally, I shortened the race to 15.5 miles – all I needed to do was to get to the turnaround, then I’d have no choice but to finish the course. If I hit the turnaround, I’d have to get back to the Mile 10/21 aid station because there was no way off the course, and even if I wanted to quit there, I really wouldn’t be able because that would mean waiting there for the last runner to pass, help the volunteers pack up and hike out. Either way, I was going to be out there for a long time, so now that I was on the course, the best option was to just keep pushing forward. (And it absolutely felt like pushing…)
I told myself something I learned long ago from my friend Cary – no matter how bad or how good you feel out there on the course, it never lasts. Except I hadn’t felt good for a single mile yet – not even the first mile out of the starting gate – and I was seriously doubting if I would ever feel good. I told myself to treat this as an exercise in mental fortitude, and to keep slogging through the miles.
At Mile 11, the thought of turning back persisted as my hamstring tightness continued. Now I could call it a 22-mile training run. But now I was only four miles to the turnaround and along this stretch I ran with the same 3-4 runners – we would take turns passing each other – they would pass me on the steeper downhill sections and I would pass them on the flat and uphill sections. The give and take was akin to having a pacer, and kept me going to see the same people along the way.
Finally!
Around Mile 12, I started focusing seriously on the turnaround and my mood improved . I felt like I broke through the wall a little, and I also started seeing the leading runners that were on their way back. I got a lift from the obligatory “good job” that we grunted at each other, and mentally it helped me to know that while I was more than an hour off of the leader’s pace, the turnaround really did exist.
At Mile 14, I passed the Cal 1 station which is where our Davis running club (GVH) has an aid station for the Western States 100. I knew I was about a mile from the turnaround and I actually feeling pretty good.
The Turnaround to Mile 21
At the turnaround, I felt a solid sense of accomplishment to have pushed through the slog of the first 15 miles, to have kept going, and to have finally experience a positive mindset. I also knew that the only way back was to finish the race – the option to turnaround was gone, and removing that was mentally liberating. Absent a significant injury, I knew I would finish the race no matter what.
My Garmin showed a 11:30 min/mile pace for the first half, and that was tough to see – more than 1:30 min/mile pace slower than expected, and right about now I starting wondering if I could finish in under seven hours, figuring the “back” could take me more than a hour longer than the out. If I averaged 11:30 on the out – nearly three hours, I figured the back would be closer to four hours. I accepted that this was going to be a long day out there. But I was on the way back, and one way or another I was getting to the finish.
Then something pretty interested happened… My pace picked up. The course felt mostly downhill. The single track was in really good condition and I told myself that I to take whatever the course gave me. On the downhill sections, I ran harder, even when it felt a little uncomfortable, remembering the advice I used in the Tahoe 200 – when it starts to hurt, push a harder. I figured that if I could keep my overall race pace under 12:00 min/miles as long as possible, it would give me some leeway for the uphill sections and get me to the finish line sometime under seven hours.
Somewhere along this stretch, I hit some hail, or more so, some hail hit me. Pretty cool to be running in the clouds – mystical and magical to be out there. I wanted to take pictures of the waterfalls and mist, but I also didn’t want to stop and break my pace.
As the miles clicked by, I was able to maintain an overall race pace of 11:30-11:45/min miles. I’d stopped a time or two to pee, which cost me several seconds on my pace, but then the course gave me the chance to grab that time back.
I ambled into the Mile 21 aid station, still under a 12:00 min/mile pace, and at this point, starting to think seriously about getting to the finish. I remembered from the out section that there was some downhill ahead, and thinking that the last three miles were uphill, I just kept telling myself to keep taking whatever the course would give.
I fueled up again with Tailwind in my bladder and gobbled more potatoes dipped in salt. I took my time at the aid station, but without talking too much time. Four or five racers came through after me, and left before me, and while I said to myself not to bother with them, it did spur me to get back on the trail.
The 20s
From here, it just focused on clicking off the miles. I’d run for a good clip and resist checking my Garmin, and mostly was able to check just before the next mile was done. I had a couple of 10:00 and 11:00 minute miles, and my total pace stayed under the 12:00 min/mile target. I was happy, surprised and proud of myself for pushing through the wall that I felt way back at Mile 8 – to be having a strong second half of the race. I knew at this point, I just needed to get to the last three miles, knowing that even if I had to hike at a 18:00 min/mile pace, I could get this thing done and get home.
With about four miles to go, the sun burned through the clouds. I stopped to put away my raincoat and swapped out my very wet long-sleeve running shirt and for my dry short-sleeved shirt, a refreshing change for the last push.
The final push
I kept waiting for the course to turn uphill, but it didn’t. Finally I hit the Mile 2/Mile 29 aid station, stopping only long enough to chug a 12-oz can of Pepsi. (Cola is my magic elixir for a boost in any endurance event…) Once I crossed the second big water crossing, I knew the finish was getting close, and yet the course hadn’t turned into the big uphill I expected.
Finally with about 1.5 miles to go, it did turn uphill, and got very steep. I checked my Garmin – I kept the sub-12:00/min pace the entire way back and I had about 18 mins for a sub-6 hour race! I told myself to chill and not get attached to the sub-6 – not to be disappointed, and instead be proud of the race with all of the mental hurdles. As I powered up the hill (thank you, trekking poles!), I passed one of the runners I’d been swapping places with throughout the day and he said – “Keep going – You can make it for a sub-six.”
I really wanted to, and would be damn proud of that given the effort, but the course wasn’t working in my favor. I started running in stretches of 25- 50 steps, then I’d walk for 75-100 steps.
With about 0.75 miles left, I passed another runner who asked me how much we had, and I saw that I had just under six minutes left to break six hours.
I found a some reserve power, and starting running up the hill. I checked my Garmin and I was running at a 10:09 pace, and I knew that if I could keep this pace, I could sneak in under six hours.
I told myself that this was just an interval on a training run – just keep pushing until the interval was over. I got to 0.50 miles left, then 0.33 miles left. Push. Push. Push.
I turned a corner and saw the shimmering hood and windshield of parked cars through the trees, and a few steps later saw the blue and white finished gate. I kept motoring and as I got to the gate, the people at the finish were cheering for me, crossing the finish at 5:58:31! Made it!
I think my facial expression says it all…
Post-Race & What’s Next
Post-race was the best I felt all day. The adrenaline was pumping and I was feeling proud for finishing with a sub-6 race. I knew I was probably more than two hours from the race leaders and didn’t care a single bit. This race was completely against myself and the mental hurdles I needed to overcome along the way.
The post-race spread was super! Chili and tacos. I shoved them down along with my celebratory bag of Peanut M&Ms and a Mountain Dew. I talked with Paulo, the race director for a while, thanked him for the race, and made my way to the shuttle to head home.
While I was sore on Sunday and Monday (both rest days), I had a very solid hotel workout Tuesday night with some treadmill running and Cross-Fit exercises (push-ups, sit-ups, dumbbell snatches and dumbbell squats).
Now it’s back to a regular training schedule with quality miles where I can get them, strength training, and staying focused on getting to the Zion 100 starting line as healthy as possible. As my friend Kelly shared last week, better to be undertrained and healthy than forcing it with an injury. I know if I can get to the starting line, I’ll find a way to finish.
A week ago, I gave myself permission to start over. My training was off. My body was revolting. My training was off. I felt physically discombobulated. I needed to hit the reset button, and did.
The highlights:
I did a daily day-time fast from Sunday-Wednesday, with almost no food consumption before dinner each day, and keeping to 1500-2000 total calories per day.
I dropped my weight from 190 lbs on Sunday AM to 181.7 labs on Saturday AM
My muscular and joint inflammation is completely gone.
I feel like I’m back on track for the last 4-5 weeks of training before the Zion 100.
Most of all, the experiment with daily fasting was a HUGE successful for me. There are many ways to do fasts – some people just go a day without food, others go as much as a week. For me, I simply wanted to reduce caloric intake, and see how well I’d do going the day without food. Dropped eight lobs in a week and proving to myself that I could train, travel, and maintain a decent training schedule was a BIG boost of my confidence and results.
Caloric intake by day, week of 3/04/18
The details…
It started with a simple, slow six-mile run on Sunday built from there. Monday was a rest day. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were running days. I don’t usually do three days back-to-back-to-back, but my schedule necessitated this.
Sunday
Sunday, 3/4/2018
After my Sunday run following a Saturday evening dinner of burgers, fries, and beer, I just wasn’t hungry in the morning, even after the run, so I skipped breakfast and lunch, and maintained relative sanity through a trip to IKEA. I staved off any food until a steak dinner on Sunday night, which I cut back and only at e about 60% of the meat portion I usually eat, finishing the day just under 1500 calories.
I felt pretty good physically and mentally. While the hunger throughout the day was noticeable, it was far from intolerable. I was pretty damn proud of myself, as that’s the longest I’d gone without food in a day. Ever.
Just goes to show how fortunate I am in my life – here I’m nearly 44 years-old, and never before in my life, not for a single day, have I gone more than 20 hours before my last consumption of food of any kind.
Monday
With the success on Sunday, I figured I should try the same again on Monday. Again, I went the whole day without any food or calories until dinner, with the exception of some coconut oil in my morning coffee, keeping to under 1500 calories for the day. Again, while I might have displayed a few signs of hanger and discontent, I managed pretty well through the day. Remember though, this was a rest day, so no real physical activity, aside from playing tag at the park with my son, which did end with me insisting the game was over and it was time to head home for dinner.
Tuesday
Tuesday, 3/6/2018
Tuesday rolled around, and I figured – “why not?” So I skipped breakfast and lunch again, but with an early afternoon run planned in my training calendar, I drank a scoop of sports drink before the run so that I had some decent short-term energy and to make the most I could from the time logging miles.
Overall, it went pretty well. I did some short intervals, and while I felt some energy drag, the run was passable. Afterwards, I drank another scoop of protein drink and ate a Quest bar just to make that I had something for my body to use for recovery. I finished the day at 2500 calories, which was still about 1000 calories below my normal daily calorie base, and at a ~1000 calorie deficit as compared to what I likely burned that day.
Wednesday
Wednesday, 3/7/2018
I had a work trip for the rest of the week, starting with a very early AM flight to Los Angeles on Wednesday morning after only four hours of sleep. I was staying in Redondo Beach, with access to a bike/running path that goes for miles and miles and miles.
After a day sitting in a workshop, I hit the running path and knocked out a decent six miles. Again, not awesome, but passable. Best of all, I went the entire day without food again, except for a bit of coconut oil in my morning coffee. This meant skipping breakfast, traveling, skipping lunch and all of the yummy treats that are served when one is attending a professional workshop (you know… cookies, fruit, and such…) I had a solid dinner by way of the local Whole Foods, and an evening yogurt snack because I was up late working, and finished the day just under 1800 calories.
Thursday
Thursday, 3/8/2018
Thursday came and I planned to go for Day 5 as the final day of my daytime fasting exercise. Lunchtime came and I was invited to join some colleagues, and did, and at a Cobb Salad. Daytime fast officially broken, but I kept the intake low, and even with a big group dinner, I finished the day under 2200 calories.
After I got back to my AirBnB after the big group dinner, I hit the running trail and knocked out a VERY solid six mile run – my “every mile faster” run that I love to do… One mile warm-up then slowing turn up the dial to make every mile faster, with a one mile cool-down. Even with only four miles of actual workout, it’s a grinder and that I ate so much compare to previous days, I felt great even thought it was my third running day in a row, and this run was at 9pm after dinner and a long day in the workshop.
Friday
Friday, 3/9/2018
Friday was a rest day, and I started the morning with breakfast – a can of sardines, whipped butter and a couple of scoops of peanut butter. When I sat down at my table for an early morning workshop session, my plate stacked with whipped butter balls, the women next to me said – “You know that’s butter, right?” I said – “Yep! I eat a high fat, low carb diet. I love butter.” She just said – “You’re from California, aren’t you?” Mixing butter with peanut butter is one of my favorite yummy treats. (Maybe I’ll have some right now…) I kept the rest of the day light until I got home just past 9pm, when I ate a bigger meal and finished the day at 3500 calories.
Saturday
This morning was a garage workout – my first lifting in more than a week – a solid 20-minute EMOM workout (every minute on the minute).
5 rounds of:
Deadlifts (4 x 6 reps, 1 x 3 reps)
Pull-Ups (5 x 8 reps)
Lateral bench back-and-forths (5 x 50)
Kettle bell swings (5 x 25)
… followed by a 0.67 sprint. I felt spent, and I felt like I was back in the flow. I kept the rest of the day reasonable, and even with dinner at the local brewpub, I avoided pizza and stuck with a poke bowl with less rice and more salad.
So… A week later after starting over, I’ve lost eight lbs, I’m back running, and feeling really good about my readiness for this next big race.
One week after starting over, I’m back on track with a full week at home to keep the momentum going.
Day 7 of my 31-day writing challenge – a self-imposed challenge to write for one hour every day for 31 days.
It’s the lunchtime break at the workshop. I have exactly 65 minutes before we start the afternoon sessions. Everyone else headed to The Cheesecake Factory, and I’m choosing to spend this time sitting in the hotel lobby to fulfill my daily writing commitment. As much as I don’t feel like it now, I know I won’t feel like it later.
I’ve got plenty of excuses to skip today, some of them are even borderline legitimate.
I’m hungry. It’s Day 4 of my daytime fasting experiment to help my body fat-adapt and to lose a few pounds I let pile up last week. I’ve eaten 5500 calories over the past four days. That’s one day for me when I’m in heavy-duty training mode.
I’m tired. I slept four hours last night, rolling out of bed at up a 4:15am for a 6am flight. I’m mentally depleted – I know this because I took a Lyft from LAX to all the way to Santa Monica before realizing that I needed to be Redondo Beach instead. That was awesome.
I’m now without an executive assistant because she resigned this morning. I understand her decision, and I’m in full support, yet someone that doesn’t make the magic elves appear to check off the unfinished tasks that need attention.
I’d rather be eating with the rest of group at The Cheesecake Factory.
I’d like to take a nap.
I need to spend time working on company tasks and recruiting a replacement EA.
But somehow all of that can wait because I made this commitment to myself. That’s the magic in throwing this challenge at myself and when I’m done this writing block, I’ll have words on the page.
I knew it would hard. My schedule is my schedule. Life is life. No day is perfect.
That’s the magic of commitment, and the purpose of this challenge to myself. I wanted to see how I could manufacture the time to do that which brings me joy: Write every day.
It’s is forcing me to concentrate, forcing me to adapt, forcing me to do the best I can with whatever haymakers come next. These conditions are my choice – I could have changed my flight. I could eat the tin of sardines and chomp on the energy bar sitting in my backpack. I could have built a backup system for the work that needs to be done.
I tell myself that this will make me stronger and more tolerant. I imagine this will aid my training and strengthen my mindset for the next time I’m on the trail, miles from the next aid station low on water with aching quads and a turning stomach.
But maybe this thinking is just absurd and I should eat lunch or take a nap. But I don’t, and I won’t, because this is important to me – to stretch myself a little longer, a little farther.
Given everything, I’m surprised I don’t feel worse. I’m here, awake, sitting and writing, and that brings me joy.
Because I’m now six weeks away from the Zion 100 and my body is revolting, and it’s because my mind lost control of my daily habits.
The past week and a half have been a tough slog on the training front. Going back to the Wednesday before last, a speed workout ripped my legs to shreds. I was so sore that I needed an impromptu midweek rest day. Two heavy lifting sessions, including max weight deadlifts on Friday and max weight shoulder presses on Saturday, revealed their consequences.
I toiled through my long run on Sunday morning – my hamstrings felt like frozen piano cords. By Monday, I was sensing a tendon tear near my pubic bone on my right leg. Tuesday morning, I headed out for an early AM run only to be hamstrung by my left hamstring, struggling just to get myself home while preventing it from tearing completely.
I’d label last week’s training regimen “maintenance” at best, and more likely, it was more like “slowing the pace of attrition.” Monday’s workout was medication for an anxiety-ridden day. Tuesday was the unpleasant morning run. Wednesday and Thursday were self-prescribed rest days. Friday and Saturday were garage workout days to avoid any injury that would prevent me from reaching the Zion 100 starting line.
While my training load decreased, my diet got worse. Last Saturday, I demolished a sticky bun at the Farmer’s Market – a mental breach of the dam. I was using food to cope with stress. Lena had been away for a couple of days and I was feeling the effects of a week of after-school pick-ups, daily meal prep, and evening after-dinner bedtime routines.
In the week that followed, I nibbled on dark chocolate squares, munched on leftover mac and cheese, then scarfed Girl Scout cookies while working late on Friday night. Saturday’s burger-fries-beer combo (along with demolishing the last of my son’s chicken fingers…) and the frozen yogurt covered with Heath bar crumbles were the final blows.
So Sunday morning, after seeing 190 lbs on the scale (my ideal racing weight is 182-183 lbs), I decided that I was giving myself permission to start over – an act of acceptance for where I was and an act of forgiveness for the last week and a half. With six weeks to go, I’ve got enough time to reset and push through on last training cycle before Zion.
I took my time with a slow run to introduce my legs just feel the motion of running again. After the run, I decided I would fast for the day. I’ve experimented with some intermittent fasting recently to reduce total calories – skipping breakfast and keeping to a very light lunch – but that led to overeating at dinner and still reaching 3500+ calories in the day. Not good.
Yesterday, I fasted all day through dinner – a day that included house cleaning and a trip to IKEA as a true test of my resolve. I kept dinner disciplined, consuming less that 1500 calories for the day. Throughout the day, I drank a lot of water and a couple of hot tea drinks in the afternoon to stave off the feelings of hunger.
This morning, I awoke at 4am to head down to Palo Alto for the day, and so far I’ve had only coffee with just a bit of coconut oil and water infused with apple cider vinegar and sea salt. It’s past 8am now, and my plan is to go the whole day without food until I get home this afternoon. I feel a little jittery from the coffee, so it’ll be interesting to see how this workshop goes today… 🙂
This is all in an effort to reset my mental dependence on food as medicine for stress relief, and to give my body a chance to clean out the deposits of gunk and grime that I feel like are jamming up my joints and muscles. I dropped to under 50 net carbs daily throughout most of January, and in the past, when I drop carb intake, I feel a reduction in inflammation throughout my body.
I remember during the Tahoe 200, when I was feeling at my absolute worst with aching legs, I decided that I would not let my body rule me – that I would be in control – that I would decide how to respond to my situation. This week, I’m choosing this again. This is a choice to restore to myself to a place where my mind rules over my body. (Check out “When it starts to hurt, pick up the pace.”).
So I’m starting over this week. Maybe today, this choice will prove too difficult and I’ll decide to eat, or later this week I’ll end up injuring myself on a training run. If I do, I’ll give myself to start over again.
Quick note… I have a special announcement coming about the #RunningforRefugees that will give you and your friends a little extra motivation to contribute… Stay tuned for more.
All my best ideas come from Lena. She came home from work last week asking me if Tara got in touch with me.
“No, why?”
“She’s looking for a pacer for 100 she’s doing.”
“Which one?”
“Not sure, but it’s at the end of October.”
After exchanging a few emails and finding a reasonable flight to Phoenix, I’m now booked as Tara’s pacer to pull her home over the last 40 miles. This is how these things go…
The Javelina 100 is a Western States Qualifier, 4-point qualifier for the UMTB and an entry race for the Patagonia Run in Argentina. Lots of leverage for one race. But… seeing how far Arizona is from here, Tara was finding a dearth of pacers available.
It’s been less than six week since the Tahoe 200, and it’s already starting to feel like it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.
My recovery time was remarkably short. Aside from swollen ankles and a mild case of plantar fasciitas, I was back to normal in just a few days. Muscularly I felt really strong with no soreness or injury.
As is the norm, I took a few days to gorge on Peanut M&Ms, pizza, and pretty much whatever food I felt inclined to consume, but most of all, I was back doing light workouts right away and I started running about a week later.
The post-race glow had me thinking about knocking out a 100-miler this year. More so, I got in my mind that now that I’ve knocked out a trail marathon, 50k, 60k and 200-miler since May this year, why not knock out a 50-miler, 100k and 100-miler between now and next May to complete the full compliment of ultras in a calendar year?
Finding a race before the end of 2017 proved tough. The races left don’t work well with my schedule – they all fall on weekends after weeks when I’m traveling, or on weekends when we have other family plans, or they’re just a little too far away to knock out in a day trip. I don’t want to force races into my calendar. Every race should be a fun event. I even got accepted from the wait-list for Rio Del Lago, but logic got the best of me and I declined the invitation.
Javelina 100 is October 28-29. I arrive on Friday, and I’ll be pacing Tara through the night hours and I gotta say, I’m pretty damn excited to view the sun set over the desert, run under the night sky and then watch the sunrise the on Sunday morning. The last time I watched the sunrise over the desert was in the Mojave Desert during Uberman.
Most of all, it’s a chance to pay it back to the people that have helped me over the years – my crews, pacers and the innumerable volunteers that helped me along the way in every race, from local 10-milers and sprint triathlons to my three Ironmans to the recent Tahoe 200.
Of course, it’s not exactly torture to be out there running. It brings me joy to experience these races, and the planning and discipline to train and prepare is something I’ve learned is a necessary in my life.
So here I go, ramping up my training regimen. Two weeks ago, I had to break entirely from training for five straight days because of a stomach bug that left me with low-grade nausea every day for two weeks and an insane, self-inflicted work schedule.
That is all behind me and last week kickstarted a more serious training schedule. This week has been even better with a strong run on Tuesday, a rigorous lifting and Cross-Fit workout yesterday, followed by my plan of run-lift-run-run over the next four days through Sunday, all designed to sharpen me up and get back my racing edge.
And finally, it’s a chance to resurface my #RunningforRefugees Campaign!
With your help, we’ve raised close to $3000 so far, and I’m keeping the campaign going until we reach the original target of $20,550 that I set before the Tahoe 200.
Remember… I have a special announcement coming about the #RunningforRefugees that will give you and your friends a little extra motivation to contribute… Stay tuned for more.
With the success on Sunday, I figured I should try the same again on Monday. Again, I went the whole day without any food or calories until dinner, with the exception of some coconut oil in my morning coffee, keeping to under 1500 calories for the day. Again, while I might have displayed a few signs of hanger and discontent, I managed pretty well through the day. Remember though, this was a rest day, so no real physical activity, aside from playing tag at the park with my son, which did end with me insisting the game was over and it was time to head home for dinner.
