Not Everybody's Working for the Weekend

I work down there.  I run up here. I dream of over yonder.

For as long as I've been distance training, I've basically lived for the weekend.  I pretty much suffered through my weekdays, trying to shove as many workouts I could into my little free time, and then hit the weekends hard.  Sometimes I'd run TWICE as many miles and climb THREE TIMES as much vert in two days as I had in the previous five.  I'd write it in my log, stare at it and say, this makes no sense.  And then the next week, I'd do the same thing.  Buy why?

Perspective.

 Sunrise - a great opportunity to nerd out over forefoot 
strike patterns.

Tired and sore from  a long weekend in the mountains; I'd stare down the week ahead with fearful eyes.  Working a full-time job, freelance work, managing a long- distance traffic relationship, paperwork, errands, cooking, cleaning and other such life stuff really takes up a lot of time.  So even if I spend the remainder of my waking minutes running, I'm going to be tired.  I guess my mileage will just be low during the week and all my runs will kind of suck.

Shift.

Last Wednesday morning, as I headed out for my 5:30am soft sand run, something clicked.  I realized I had already run 30 miles this week in just two days and I was none the worse for wear.  Furthermore, I did this on two 10+hour workdays, cross-trained AND put in quality workouts that I was proud of.  I felt energized.  I felt powerful.  I felt kind of stupid.

All this time, I'd been wanting running to be more important and more of a priority during my week; but all I seemed to come up with was excuses as to why it couldn't be.  Yet somehow now it was.  As I compared my training log to last year's notes, I realized I'm actually putting in a lot more hours, time and vertical feet during my weekdays - even though I'm technically "busier" in all other areas of life.  It's not at all hard to put down 20 miles and at least 2-3k of vert on a weekday, especially when it's broken up into two workouts.  But how?

See.

My job is not a hindrance to my running.  It is a training tool.

Getting out for some hill repeats after sitting, staring at a screen for 4-5 hours - letting my body stiffen up from the morning's workout isn't easy.  Hell, it's not at all unlike trying to throw down 9 minute pace up a hill at mile 80.  This, my friends, is what you call simulation.

Probably the best thing about my job as a copywriter at a busy ad agency is the fact that it completely fries my brain every day.  I'm talking total mental exhaustion.  It takes some serious panache to get my shit together for a hard, calculated effort, just like it does when the sun is going down and I'm trying to stay in the race.  I remember this when I'd rather go take a nap in my car than lace up and get my ass on the hill at lunch. This brings me to my next truth…

Who even files anymore?  This is 2012, people.

Even if it's dark before work and dark after, you can still run in sunlight.

The next best thing about my job is that there is a 500 foot hill/playground behind my office.  It has a winding trail that goes to the top; it has a mean set of stairs; it has steep, rocky drainage ditches. In short, it is awesome for hill repeats when you're stuck in the middle of the city.  I used to hit it up after work sometimes and created some mean little workouts.  Then it hit me?  Why not run it at lunch - when it's sunny and hot and you can get an extra K in on your day?  WHY THE HELL NOT?

There really was no good reason, so accordingly, I've added a few lunchtime trips to the hill every week and always look forward to them.  The best part is hitting the top and looking out to my weekend playground - the snowcapped San Gabriels off in the distance - and spending the rest of my repeats infinitely inspired.  This work I'm doing during the week is only aiding my enjoyment of the work I do on the weekend.  Because enjoyment to me is running fast, strong and slightly out of control.

The steps up "Work Hill" - Culver City, CA

There is absolutely no time at which it is unreasonable to run.

While nursing my knee back to health, I didn't run every day.  I definitely didn't run twice a day.  I began taking my hot ballet/yoga classes three mornings a week for cross-training.  The only problem was, even once I was back to hitting the miles, I didn't want to give up those classes.  I've seen and felt dramatic results in my strength as a direct result of these workouts, so obviously I should keep it up.  But they are at 6:30 am, so that takes up THREE mornings to run.  That was, until I realized I could run beforehand.  Furthermore, I'd been wanting to incorporate more soft sand runs, but heading to the beach after work was a bitch with traffic and parking.  At 5 in the morning, none of these things are a problem.  It's funny that it never occurred to me to run before class, just because I thought it was too early. Is it too early to be running at 2 am when I'm in a 100 mile race?  Well, maybe… but you see my point.

Tuesday Morning Big Loop - Thank you Michael for joining me!
photo:  Michael Chamoun

Sitting in traffic isn't a waste of time.  It's a fucking break.

I ask for one at least 5 times a day; only one of which I'm procuring a piece of your Kit-Kat Bar.  Sitting on my butt, letting my mind wander or listening to music, comedy, podcasts, etc. could be seen as a waste of time, but if I'm multi-tasking by getting said butt from Point A to Point B, it suddenly becomes entirely legitimate.  I wouldn't give myself this break otherwise, so doing it a couple times a week to visit Dom suddenly becomes an added benefit to my life.  Boom.  That just happened.

"Marshall Mondays" at Westridge - a new staple & much
appreciated group run.  Thank you Marshall!
photo:  Chan Chan

Spending all my free time running isn't work.  It's a privilege.

Relatively speaking, I don't have  whole lot of responsibilities.  I've gotta work, I've gotta eat and I've gotta pay my taxes.  That's about it.  My boyfriend gets excited if I say I'm going to be late because I need to run.  My work is cool with me coming in dirty and sweaty. My life is awesome.

That said, someday I do want a family; and I don't want to just pop the little suckers out.  I want to raise them; I want to go to their soccer games; I want to make them delicious meals; I want to KNOW them - all the things my parents did for me.  I will run, but I won't have the freedom to do it like I do now.  The older I get, the more and more real this becomes.  So instead of moping out the door when I'm tired and sore and it's cold and dark - I focus on how lucky I am to have the freedom to run after work instead of a whole host of activities which I will someday enjoy.

Become.

All it takes is a little shift in perspective to be the runner you want to be.  Be creative with your training.  Check out all of the things in your life that are "getting in" the way, and consider that they might actually be paving it.

I did.  And now I love my weeks just as almost as much as my weekend adventures.

Ahhh.... weekend....
photo:  Dominic Grossman, Holy Jim Canyon

January Things

Perhaps Baldy will be my new Chantry which was my new Temescal.
I see double summits in the near future...
(photo: Kevin Chan)

After 7 weeks of recuperation/going certifiably insane, my main objective for January was getting back into shape.  More specifically, my expressly stated goals (hastily written one night on a piece of scrap paper with a pen running out of ink) were as follows:

Run or hike at least around an hour per week day

Run or hike min of 3 hours per weekend day

Cross train 3-4 hours/week

Soft Sand run at least 1-2 times/week

Physical therapy 1x/week

Working up to 50-60 miles per week

Goal of completing 20 trail miles without stopping

Work up to twice a day runs

Based on how my knee was feeling, this felt reasonable and as such - I set out on my journey. While things have not gone perfectly and there still is a significant amount of pain involved, I am happy to say that I've far surpassed these goals and will accordingly need to adjust for the months ahead.  I just crunched the numbers and for a start to the year on a post-op knee, I'm deeply satisfied.  Here are the results:

Let's climb, bitches!

TOTAL MILES:  312.5

TOTAL VERT:  70,300 ft

TOTAL HOURS:  74:32

TOTAL CROSS:  11:10

AVG MILES/WK:  78

AVG VERT/WK:  17,500

I didn't think I'd be hitting 70 or 80 until March, so this is a very good sign.  Probably the most notable thing here though, is after checking last year's log - I realized I'm only 14 miles short of 2011 January's totals.  Considering this year, I've taken 2 days completely off and last year I took 0 - that means, I'm basically in the same place.  Holy crap!  I was positive... positive that I was way off from last year all things considered, but apparently that is not the case.  And not only is it not the case, it's made completely irrelevant by this little fact:  though my mileage is a bit less, my total climbing is over 10,000 feet more.  AND I've spent more hours running this year than last.  Boomshakeday. 

As such, I'll look to get myself comfortable running around 80 miles/wk consistently during February, likely with one or two topping 90.  Getting back to 100 mile weeks should happen way earlier than expected!  Working out 2-3 times a day has already become the norm, so getting it all in isn't necessarily a concern - what I'm really working on is extending at least 3 of my weekday runs to over 10 miles at a time.  It's really not hard to do and there's really no excuse.  I've been rocking them as of late, and my only real hang-up is that I've been getting scared on the trails in the dark because everyone keeps posting shit about mountain lions on Facebook.  My solution for this is just not to check Facebook as often :)  Last year, I noticed there was often a great disparity between my weekday miles and my weekend miles and I'm already on working on making those at the very least more even - at the best, with my weekday totals on top.  Same thing with the climbing.  Goal is at least 2-3k of vert each weekeday, and there really is no excuse given that there is a 500 ft hill behind my work perfect for a quick thousand for lunch.

My physical therapy has ended for now, and I'm pretty much off the hook until I check back in with the orthopedic dude mid-Feb.  This is awesome, because it frees up one more morning for extra running.  I'll continue to go to my Hot Ballet/Yoga classes 3x a week, with a barefoot session beforehand under the morning moon and keep up the lunchtime core work as well.  It's making a huge difference, but more on that later...  Finally, the most exciting thing in all this is that I finally feel confident in firming up some pre-Miwok racing plans.  March will likely be a busy month with PCTR's Santa Monica Mountains 50k on the 3rd and possibly Old Goats 50 mi on the 24th if I make it off the wait list.  I'll also be doing the LA Marathon on the 18th (my 29th birthday!) which will undoubtedly be the best of the bunch - as I'll be running with my dad, enroute to completing his first.  

Mt. Wilson Summit on a particularly
ravishing day.  (photo: Dom)

Well, that's about it for the first month of the year.  It was an awesome one, with trips to icy San Gorgonio and a long weekend in Auburn training on the States course as standouts.  Baldy summits have become a staple with the opposite of wet winter we're having, so I'm looking to lower my splits up Bear Canyon and the Ski Hut Trail - you know, just for fun/my own sick pleasure.  I've been extending my staple loops/runs in the Front Range as well and doing some exploring/more climbing - so that has been keeping me interested and entertained.  No motivation problems whatsoever heading in to February - I'm truly enjoying getting back into the hard training and continuing to avoid plants at all costs.

And finally, the important stuff:

BEER OF JANUARY:  Sierra Nevada Tumbler - Autumn Brown Ale

I've been hitting the end of the winter seasonals and I've been hitting them hard; as they'll soon be gone.  This month, I tried quite a few and was completely unsurprised to end with two from SN Brew Co. up top - the aforementioned, and coming in a close second - their Ruthless Rye IPA.  I had the Tumbler on draft and it was so perfectly smooth and creamy that I chose to have a second for my dinner.  SO good.

JAM:  No way will any other band remind me more of January road trips than Toro y Moi.  This one is pure excellence:

Still Sound - Toro y Moi

My favorite adventure partner.

Every day can be a sunny day if you just climb high enough.
(photo: Dom)

Starting the Year off Either Incredibly Right or Terribly Wrong

Special thanks go out to MLK for having a dream and giving me
a Monday off work to pursue mine.

I sit here writing as I impose a day fully off from running.  My poor knee has been swollen for days.  This morning was supposed to be my final PT session, yet now I have additional appointments scheduled for ultrasounding, deep tissue digging and other such torturous activities.* And I did it all to myself.
*NOTE:  I started this blog last Wednesday; after one day off, I'm back to pounding it.


I started the year with an expressly stated goal of working my way up to handling 60 miles per week with 10,000 feet of climbing (and 10k down) in January.  I thought it would be great to be able to run a full 20 miles by the end of the month.  Only then, I ran 26 on the 2nd and have been averaging 75 miles and 17,000 feet for the first two weeks.  I'm pretty sure that's awesome, but I'm also pretty sure that's why my knee is swelling again.  Grrrrr.


You may say, "Well Katie, that is downright silly," and I wouldn't necessarily disagree with you.  But what I will offer is that I simply couldn't help it.  My body feels best when I'm running lots of miles and my world seems altogether right.  Plus I have major FOMO.  So when friends ask me to run the last 26 of the AC course, I say absolutely.  When I realize it may be my last chance to frolick in the San Gorgonio Wilderness before winter sets in, I convince Unicorn to drive to San Bernadino with me, citing that it will be excellent Hardrock training.  And by golly, when I see a 3 day weekend with non-existent snow levels in Tahoe, I get my ass on the States course to train.  That would be the real point of this post, so let's move on to that, shall we?


Last Friday, Dom and I headed up to Auburn after work to enjoy it the way Mr. King Jr. would have liked.  Chasing a dream.  Only chasing said dream first involved a 7 hour drive in a loud, bumpy Jeep getting us to the inn at roughly 3:30 in the morning.  Hey folks, running 100 miles ain't exactly glamorous - and neither is the lifestyle.  It's all part of the training. :)  After sleeping for maybe 2 hours, maybe, we got back in the panda-mobile and headed into Foresthill to meet our guru for the day, the lovely Mrs. Suzanna Bon.  The plan was to run all day, heading backwards on the course as far as we felt like and then turn around - keeping an easy pace and focusing on purely enjoying the beautiful day.  We'd be rocking the canyons section of the course, which is largely considered the hardest part, and doing it twice.  That seemed like a perfect introduction to me.

Michigan Bluff in January - La Niña = La Awésome. 

Next thing I knew, we were at Michigan Bluff and I realized it was going to be one of those days where the miles just melt away and you become thoroughly convinced that yours is truly the best life ever.  This must be what heroin is like.  At any rate, we ran into some friends before heading down to El Dorado Creek and as I've grown accustomed to, I received many a congrats for getting into THE race.  I'm now up to at least three times as many "likes" for getting into a lottery than finishing any race in my life.  Apparently, Western States is a big deal.  

Zombies.

Having Suzanna along was awesome, not just because she is an altogether super person - but also because she had great stories and knowledge of the course.  Along the way, she pointed out the legendary Ann Trason's house, the Deadwood Cemetery (where I paid my respects, less have bad juju on race day), old Gold mining equipment and all sorts of other cool shit.  Accordingly, I've been spending an inordinate amount of time on Google since I've been back, as I love to know the history of the places I'm running.  Then every race is like time traveling, which of course, is awesome.


Our journey took us all the way back to Last Chance, and as such, we realized we needed to get a move on to get back to Foresthill before dark.  All the way, I was marveling at the fact I was running in the Tahoe National Forest in January in a t-shirt.  The day was seriously magical. And I was excited to go back through these dreaded canyons and see what was truly up.  

Chasing Suzanna down the canyons is the
opposite of easy.

Well, what was up was that it was seriously not that bad.  I know... I know.... race day in 100+ degree weather is an entirely different story, but my point is that I expected these things to be way steeper and longer, given the tales of WSER lore I have been told.  Plus, my reference point for "godforsaken canyon" is of the Cooper variety on the AC course - which is truly a nightmare every time I visit.  Long, hot, windy, super steep in places and a total mindfuck.  So naturally, I expected three Coopers when I heard about "the canyons." 


Down to Swinging Bridge we went, and there before me was the grandaddy of them all:  Devil's Thumb.  Based on what I've heard, here's what I expected from this section:


After a blistering, quad-busting decent, I'd stare down the steepest, most awful climb imaginable.  It would be something like climbing the Luna Trail*, but for like 5 miles at least.  It would start at least at 7,000 feet and climb to over 10 - but it would feel like climbing 11 to 14, because fuck, this is Western States.  It would be exceptionally rocky and overgrown, not to mention completely exposed for the duration of the climb.  I would have to use my hands at points.  I would have to hike every step.  I would have to physically stop and catch my breath at points.  There would probably even be bear traps to avoid and eagles would swoop down and try to peck out my eyes.  If I even made it to the top, it would be a goddamn miracle.

Saying hi to the Thumb for Kev, after successfully
locating 3 shades of his face he left there last year.

*A local trail/drainage ditch that takes you straight out of a canyon at basically 1 million ft/mile. Also rocky, crumbly, overgrown and there is suggested use of a placed rope at one point.




Needless to say, the Devil's Thumb I had imagined was not quite the Devil's Thumb of reality. (Although I do realize that during the race I may become quite convinced that my first perception was actually spot on.)  The reality was that Devil's Thumb starts at around 2,700 and climbs about 1,350 in like 2 miles.  I did it in about 45 minutes, hiking most, running a little and stopping twice to take pictures and once to pee.  It was steep and it will be a bitch with 45 miles on my legs and the sun blazing down on me, but it is possible.  Furthermore, if I continue with my training on the AC course with the likes of Upper Winter Creek, Baden Powell and Acorn and power slogs up the steep slopes of Mt. Baldy - I should be pretty much good to go on the canyons.  Thank you Angeles National Forest.


What the day made me realize, however, is that much of the terrain on the States course is very runnable and the climbs aren't long.  Accordingly, I really need to work on sustained running more than hiking and some major turnover.  Perhaps I will no longer look at the whimpy Santa Monicas outside of my window as a sorry excuse for weekday training when I can't get over to the big girl mountains in Pasadena and beyond.  The runnable, 30-45 min climbs are perfect to work on efficiently switching from up to down mode and this will be an integral part of my training.


The other thing it made me realize is that my knee has seriously got to get its act together if I want to run this thing well. It's absolutely imperative to run the downhills in control, but strong - and right now I'm kind of doing this crumbly, timid dance thing that isn't working for anybody.  Halfway down the El Dorado decent, my knee totally and royally crapped out on me and every step, fast or slow, became wildly painful.  It just ain't up to speed yet, and while that is ok for January, I'm really going to have some work to do on improving my downhill ability once the weaksauce joint is able to handle it.  


All in all though, I got over 35 miles and somewhere between 10 and 11,000 feet on the day - so I was pretty happy with the effort.  I haven't ran that far since AC last July and it felt good. Really good. All day adventures are my lifeblood and I've been downright cantankerous without them.  My fear, however, was that I had possibly ruined the rest of the weekend by pushing the distance on the first day.  Luckily, a big ass sammich from Worton's, some Udo's Oil, Ice and sleep cured my ailments and I woke up on Sunday hungry for more of the course.


Accordingly, we hopped in the Jeep and set out for Robinson Flat to see what we could see. The local yokels at Worton's, as well as everyone else on FB who was apparently "in the know," told us there would be no snow at all until Red Star.  Sounds bueno.  Imagine our surprise when 3 miles from the campground we encountered such nasty ice on the road, that even my Jeep in 4WD seemed like a bad idea.  Not to be rerouted, we simply parked and ran up the road to Robinson where we found a land of ice and snow and circled around a few times, consulted a compass and finally found our trail.  Setting off for Duncan Canyon, I was definitely tired, but totally ready for whatever the day held.  I knew it would likely be another 5-6 hour day and that seemed pretty great to me.  The decent into the canyon was absolutely gorgeous; the trail enveloped in huge, dense green forest that swallowed me whole.  And at the first point we popped out of the trees, my breath was completely taken away by the sweeping expanse of pristine wilderness. No photo could ever do justice to the beauty of the Tahoe National Forest.  And parking off the road at an aid station ain't gonna do it either.  You've got to be in it.  You've got to feel it.

Star Fire remnants in Duncan Canyon

Then, just as soon as I lost myself in the lush forest, I was suddenly enclosed in complete destruction.  Charred, broken trees stood in stark contrast to the dense greenery of the surrounding hillsides as I wound down to the creek.  I've since read that the Star Fire of 2001 had completely destroyed 16,171 acres of the TNF causing a reroute of the Duncan Canyon section of the course for the next 5 years.  Though clearly damaged, much greenery and new, small trees sprouted up along the trail.  It was hauntingly beautiful and clearly told the story of the natural cycle of things - something we must all accept.  It also gave me great hope for our own Angeles Forest, where the Station Fire of 2009 turned the majority of the middle 30 miles of the AC100 course into a creepy, barren land of the lost.  It's cool to think that in 5-10 years, I could feasibly see some green (and hopefully less purple) heading from Chilao to Shortcut.

Like Rockefeller Center, y'all.

Eventually, I got down to the bottom of Duncan Canyon, where to my surprise, I found an ice skating rink.  Well… maybe.  I saw where the ice had broken to a rushing force below and admittedly, stood there for a few moments wondering what to do.  It was way colder than the previous day and the thought of crashing through and spending the rest of the run soaked was not something I wanted to deal with.  Nevertheless, I couldn't help but wander out onto the frozen section and pull some Oksana Baiuls before using my better judgement and scampering over to some rocks for safer crossing.  Once on the other side, I enjoyed the rest of my run up to Duncan, but was greatly slowed by all of the downed trees and layers of debris covering the trail.  Western States is known for its well manicured trails (just ask Hal Winton), but I wondered if they usually have time to make it out to these higher sections of the course.  Cleared, this section would be super fast as the climb really isn't all that significant (though it's listed as the other major "canyon.") In present state, it would definitely slow me down unless I quickly developed some serious log leaping, stick cracking and rock hopping skills.  But hell, a few storms between now and then could change the course anyway - so we'll see what fate brings us.*

*Which I'm not so secretly hoping is the original course + river crossing at mile 80 sans boats.

Standing at the future home of the Duncan Canyon aid station, I again marveled at how my perceptions have changed with my perspectives over the years.  In 2009, I had stood in this very place waiting for my friend Jimmy to come in.  I'd just entered into the world of ultrarunning and the thought of actually running 100 miles myself still seemed superhuman and something I likely would be unable to tackle for a few years, at least.  Maybe someday far, far in the future, I'd run Western States too - but I couldn't fathom it.  As I watched the runners leave the aid station, I marveled at how they navigated the steep rocky decent and wondered how in the hell they could do that all the way down into the canyon.  This course seemed ridiculous and the toughest thing I could ever imagine.

Taking a break with the dude @ DC

Of course, on present day in 2012, I realized that the insanely steep downward pitch only lasted about 100 feet and then dumped you out onto a gradual, winding path.  I guess that just goes to show you that once you take the time to truly understand a thing, immersing yourself in it totally, you'll realize that the intimidation was just born of fear of the unknown.  When you get friendly with a challenge, shit seems a great deal more reasonable.  This 100 yard section out of the Duncan Aid Station was a metaphor for what my life with regards to mountain running has become.  I've trained on the steepest, gnarliest stuff I can find.  I've run as high as I can get.  I've layered miles upon miles every weekend.  And I've run through a great deal of pain on multiple occasions.  It's all possible.  And now it's all relative.  Western States isn't going to be a race of survival for me.

Thank-you.

It was getting late as I headed back on the course to Robinson, and the cold of winter was finally setting in.  It had to be at least 30-40 degrees colder than the previous day, but my wardrobe hadn't gotten the memo.  Accordingly, I pushed as hard as I could with my swollen knee and admittedly wrecked legs from the day before - finally hitting the campground as the sun was beginning to set.  Again, I wandered around trying to find how to get out and where the course went next - but to this day, I have no idea.  I guess I'll find out either in May or on race day - whatever Mother Nature decides. Running the last three miles on the road was as cold as I've been in a long time, but it was physically impossible to be miserable with the golden light reflecting off the road and the pink and purple mountains going to rest.  It filled me with faith and excitement for what was to come in my training leading up to June 23rd.  It wasn't going to be easy, but at the end of the day, running into the sunset on a wholly and completely spent body is what I enjoy most.  Onward.

Another amazing day now in the books, Dom and I headed back down to Auburn for some hot showers and delicious food.  I was immediately glad we had not decided to camp, as the thought of spending the rest of the evening trapped in a sleeping bag for warmth seemed awful.  I needed to stretch, ice and somehow pull one more day of hard training out of my tired body before heading home.  Also, I needed a freaking beer.  

The scene at Dusty Corners, circa 2k9

Fortunately, I got all of the above and rose Monday morning with the plan of driving to either Dusty Corners or Last Chance to at least connect that section and likely explore backwards towards Miller's Defeat.  That was a longer drive than I remembered, made even longer by ice on the road, but we eventually made it to Dusty - which was a great deal less like its moniker than when visited in June.  Also, there were no cows - which was disappointing.  

Tracking our 110 prints from 2 days prior.
That snow wasn't there back then.

Now, on this section from Dusty to LC, I would like to note that my trail instincts were spot on with where to turn onto the singletrack - despite the old WS Trail markers remaining on the road and me never reading anything about a singletrack.  It was like the race was already in my blood or something.  Unfortunately, we did not take that turn and ran all the way back to Last Chance only to discover we'd only run about 4 miles rather than 5 and we clearly must have done something wrong.  The good news was that we got some really nice, quicker running in - which felt good compared to the technical dance we'd done the day before.  Also, we'd definitely have time to head back toward's Miller's Defeat since these first 8 miles had gone by so quickly.  Getting back to the Aid Station site, we ran across some older gentlemen out doing trail work already and seemingly having a grand old time in the forest.  They confirmed that they'd actually just cleared the singletrack that we were supposed to have run on - which sure enough, was the turn I'd originally sensed.  Oh well, something new and fun for me to experience in May.  After parting ways, we headed up the steep grade pouring into DC for a little over a mile, just to check it out and see how long and hard that decent would be coming in.  We laughed and posed for a few photos depicting the great "Where's Jimmy?" debacle of 2009, where we were quite certain that every single runner coming down to the aid station was the aforementioned man.  It actually got quite ridiculous.  At one point, Dom was waiting outside of the porta-potty for Jimmy to come out and talking to him.  Only it wasn't Jimmy.  Also, we royally fucked up there because we didn't bring him cold Coke and they only had Pepsi.  Ahhhh…. memories….

"Hey!  Is that Jimmy?"

Back to the present - my stomach suddenly decided to wreck itself and it became apparent that we'd soon need to call it a day.  This also reminded me of the Jimmy days, as I had no idea how he was stomaching double strength Perpetuum milkshakes in the 110+ degree heat.  To this day, it is one of the only things in the world that truly baffles Dom.  I learned at AC that I cannot handle any solids whatsoever in the heat, and as such I've wondered myself if I should begin experimenting with something such as CarboPro to supplement the gels.  57 GUs were fun and all, but I'm thinking I need another solution for getting more calories in, lest it go south on me.  Right now, I've got kind of a one track, fool-proof plan; but this is ultrarunning for chrissakes.  At some point - likely the worst possible time ever - my unbreakable plan will break.  It's not a matter of if; it's a matter of when.

At any rate, we finished up the run and headed back into town to refuel and try to fix my stomach with salad.  That kind of worked, but then I bombed it again with Monster, Candy and an Americano in my attempts to stay awake at the wheel on the way back to LA.  That night, I lie in bed with twitchy, overworked legs and a brain buzzing with caffeine; but let me tell you what, I was satisfied.  The Western States trail is some seriously beautiful shit, and I am so pumped to take on Gordy's dream in 2012.




AFTERWORD:  I feel like I have to start including these, since it takes me a freaking week and a half to write a post.
I'm happy to say that I took a little step back in the week after the WS weekend and only ran around 60 miles with 15k of vert, which seemed to do me good.  This week, I'm back at it climbing 2-3k per day and will hit 80-90 miles.  Also, I was released from PT on Wednesday, which is awesome because that is one more morning hour I can spend training.  Therapist chick said the muscle around my left knee is finally back to the size of the right before it wussed out from surgery and atrophied, so that is bueno.  And most importantly, I'm finally starting to feel strong and powerful again.  Getting back in shape is hard, but it's working...


Finally, I'm going to attempt to post a January re-cap blog here of totals and exciting news, but don't hold your breath.

2011: The Important Stuff

Well, I did this last year and found it to be a particularly therapeutic exercise.  So I figured, why the hell not?  Let's dive into what I really learned from the major races, training runs, trips and pacing experiences that standout in my mind from 2011.  No waxing poetic.  No conundrums.  Just a concise summary statement of what it really meant.  


Given that I tend to associate the various parts of my year not only with the big events, but two of my other loves as well - I've decided to document the jams and the beers I was into at the time.  I know, I know - an ultrarunner who likes indie music and beer?  Real original.  But whatever, man.  Running, music and beer is how I order my life.


So, without further adieu, here's what stuck:

MY FIRST DAY OFF

I put my head down in January and didn't let up for a single day.  I don't know that I've ever run that many days in a row ever, so I must be SERIOUS.  I prove I'm not obsessive by picking a random Monday in April to take completely off.

Typical pre-season training day.  Including the look of bitter exhaustion.
(photo: Dom)

Blue Moon Winter Abbey Ale (formerly Full Moon) - I stocked up on this over the winter and rationed into the spring.  Like candy.


Bandida - Audra Mae  "I'll veil myself in black and steel, and battle at your side."  i.e. I'm gonna do it too!

COYOTE 2 MOONS 100K

Legit gear and a positive attitude can get you through a rainy, icy, slippery, flooding, muddy, whiteout, blizzard, freezing mess of a run.  However, when the aid stations are blowing off the ridge, volunteers are trapped in Rose Valley, people are missing and our pets' heads are falling off, they're uh.. gonna call off the little "race."

Game called due to inclement weather.
(photo: Dom)

St. Bernardus ABT 12 - Around this time, I got really into trappist ales and tripels. This one was the clear winner.


Hard to Please - The Weepies  The miles are getting harder, but this jam soothes my soul.

BOSTON MARATHON

Surprising myself with a PR (wicked puking/pants peeing and all), despite having trained right through for a mountain 100, I decide that if it were ever my goal to actually train specifically for a road marathon, I could actually do quite well.  This will probably never happen.

El Pukador.
(photo:  shamelessly stolen)

Post-race IPA at the finish line, courtesy of New Balance.  They really do know 
how to make excellent happen.
(photo:  Andy Kumeda)

Harpoon IPA (pictured above) - How did I not say Sam Adams?  I'll tell you how -  the only SA I really like is their Winter Lager & that wasn't available on the tour. Which of course, was a real pissah.


Bizness - tUnE-yArDs  It is fun to scream weird sounds in the middle of the forest.  Yay tUnE-yArDs.







BISHOP 50 MILE

Following Dom around all this time has actually been worth it!  The snow, the elevation and the loooong climb are no match for my mountain legs built by Baldy.  (Unfortunately I followed his "stomach habits" as well, and commenced in the puking.)

Two blondes and a simply splendid day in the Sierras.
(photo: guy who used my iPhone)

The one, the only, Pabst Blue Ribbon - yep.


Swimming - Florence and the Machine  Flo and co. were great company for 10 hours in the Sierras.  I listened to this particular jam on repeat as I reeled in the woman in front of me... before everything went to shit:)

MEMORIAL TRAINING WEEKEND

Training hard works.  Period.  Enter beast mode.

At one with the high country.
(photo: Dom)

Simpler Times - they were, weren't they? $2.99 a 6, bitches.


Shape Shifter - Local Natives  "Why does the soul hallucinate?  I've got control.  I shift my shape."  Around this time, I was all Local Natives, all the time.  So freaking excellent.

THE GREAT STABBING

To this day, I still can't believe that what took me out was not an overuse injury but a freak accident, with the emphasis on freak.  I guess sometimes even when you're doing everything most things right, shit still goes down and that's just the way it is. Freaking yuccas, man.

My parents' way of commemorating the big event of 2012.
Hilarious. Really.
(photo: the pain in my heart)

During this period, I was so sad that I no longer even enjoyed the taste of beer.


Caffeinated Consciousness - TV on the Radio  When I first listened to 9 Types of Light, I was like, whatever.  And then I was like, why is my mouse mysteriously tapping to the beat? And THEN I was like, why am I screaming things such as 'Now Drop Yourself!' to random passerby?  Mmmm yes... good album.

WESTERN STATES 100 - PACING JUNE

I vividly remember breaking the news to June as we made our way down Cal Street:  if we don't pick up the pace right now, we're not going to make it.  Watching her nod, put her head down and gut out a performance that had her back 40 minutes ahead of the cutoff at the river was infinitely inspiring, and I knew I'd call on that pride in her when starting my own mountain 100 with an injury a few weeks later.

Coyote Crew commencing in the sexy.
(photo: dude who wiped the fuck out down Escarpment.  I saw you, bro.)

Rucky Chucky crossing - heading into mile 80 with June the Destroyer.
Hard to believe after three years of crewing and pacing - Ill be the one with the
white bib this year.
(photo: someone's pacer)

Andersen Valley Boont Amber Ale - one of my all time faves and fortunately sold at that grocery store where everyone get sandwiches before heading to Michigan Bluff. (Dad, take note.)


Got it All (This Can't be Living Now) - Portugal. The Man  It was extremely hard for me to choose which one of their songs I'd throw up here.  I went with this one, as it serves as a great reminder to "shake, shake, shake the night away." Always time well spent.

HARDROCK VACATION

The people, the mountains, the challenge, the spirit, the beer, the sheer joy, the danger, the beauty in it all.  Yes folks, this is a life worth living.  Impossibly stoked to be heading back to Silverton in 2012 to help Dom take on the race.

Scrambling up the scree on Grant Swamp pass - soon to be repeated
in the race by the gentleman ahead of me, unbeknownst at the time.
(photo:  Justin Lutick)

There is simply no other caption for this other than, "WHEEEEEEE!!!!"
(photo: Justin Lutick)

Silverton Brewing Co. Ice Pick Ale (IPA) - does it taste better because we're over 10,000 feet?  Why yes.  Yes it does.


New Orleans - Trampled by Turtles  "She followed the man she loves, all the way to Altadena"  Creative licensing there with the lyrics:)

AC100

Ouch.

I'd follow this guy anywhere - even to Altadena.
(photo: Monica Morant)

No seriously, I guess what I'm left with is a more acute understanding of just how much the body is able to accomplish when the mind and heart want something bad enough.  No race has ever meant more to me, and I simply did what had to be done. Also, I'll never be able truly complain of pain after mile 80 again - which is nothing but a huge advantage.




Sierra Nevada Torpedo IPA - I was rocking the shit out of this all summer. $6.99 a 6 at Fresh&Easy for the win.


Houdini - Foster the People  As pumped on Williamson.

RIO DEL LAGO 50K

I basically threw myself into this race at the last minute as a desperate attempt to prove I hadn't lost "it" in the aftermath of completing AC on a jacked up knee.  Success, first win and a fun day crewing the monster that is Lukas Temer enroute to finishing his first 100 (in first place).  Also, my nutrition and hydration was freaking impeccable in the heat - yay for that.

The lesson to be learned here is that you cannot lose when properly
equipped with the Olson/Tarneja combo.
(photo: Tyler Olson)

Michelob AmberBock - free hotel beer that is actually delicious.  I heart Embassy Suites.


Summertearz - Little Dragon  Became obsessed with Little Dragon for all parts of life - at work, in the car, on the trail, and solo dance parties in my living room.

CACTUS TO CLOUDS SHIT

So, there is this dude who loves me a lot, puts up with all my little idiosyncrasies and challenges me daily to do some really hard and incredible shit.  I am so very grateful for you, Dominic.  Bring it on!

Romantic weekend getaway in Palm Springs
(self-portrait: Dom)

Start at 600 feet & you can climb up to 10,842 in one shot. Yum.
(photo: Dom)

Shafly Pumpkin Ale - it's just about fall beer season. I spent this period of time trying various Octoberfests and pumpkin ales and finished every single one wishing it was a Shafly.




O, Evelyn - Owen  i.e. O, Panda Bear  (seeing him live next week!!)

THE SURGERY

I've said this before, but patience isn't my thing.  However, there's some definite weight in the whole "do what you can, when you can" thing and as a result of following that mantra, I'm proving to myself just how much my running and my goals mean to me.  Also, did you hear?  THEY PULLED YUCCA SPIKES OUT OF MY KNEE!

Crewing at Javelina, 2 days post-op
(photo: stolen from Jessica Fugulsby)

Maker's and Ginger Ale - I switched to the hard stuff. Obviously.


Don't Move - Phantogram   Have been loving them for months - but this new jam really takes the cake.

NORTH FACE 50 - CREWING DOM & JORGE

Holy shit.  There are a lot of really fast and really talented people out there and accordingly, I better get to work.  Did you SEE Anna & Ellie out there?  These guys did when they passed them…. yep.  That happened. 

Local heartthrobs

Newcastle Winter IPA - We found this at Ralph's for only $10.99 a 12. I have no idea how it was so cheap, because it's freaking delicious.


Walking on a Dream - Empire of the Sun  Step 1: listen. Step 2: Try to get it out of your head.  Go ahead, try. 

FROSTBITE SERIES 10 MILE (St. Louis) - WITH DAD

I honestly never thought I'd see the day when I was out running in the double digits with my dad.  I am so proud of him for how dedicated he's become to his daily runs and excited as hell that he's decided to run the LA Marathon next March.  Chatting away as we looped around Forest Park was really special and I can't wait to run 26.2 with him in 2012.

Home.

O'Fallon 5 Day IPA - little microbrew back home never disappoints. Dad's suggestion this year was freaking on point.


Dance Yrself Clean - LCD Soundsystem  The tympanic explosion circa 3:10 has been responsible for what many a coworker and passerby have likely deemed as tourettes.

Looking back with a pragmatic eye, it would be easy to say that 2011 was largely a wash.  I worked really hard and then was badly injured before I ever had a chance to prove myself and what I'd created.  But if you ask me if I feel that I achieved my goals for 2011, I'd have to say yes.  You see, I looked at them (you can look too!) and no matter how much I want to say that I failed, quite simply - I didn't.  Here's why:  I've realized that my goals are always subjective.  I rarely set benchmarks related to time or placement, yet most of the time I get extremely caught up in all that business.  In short, I lose sight of my goals.  But if my true goal was to train harder than I ever have before and give my honest best effort at a beast of a race, well then, I'd say goal achieved.  Yucca and all.

That said, I think the thing I'll take away most from 2011 is how happy I am that my family has become more of a part of my running.  Make no mistake, my parents have always been very supportive of everything* just about everything that I've ever done - but this whole ultrarunning thing was just a bit difficult to grasp.  I remember speaking to my dad after my first 50 miler (Headlands, 2009) and hearing the shock in his voice that, 1) I was calling him so soon after starting; and b) I was perfectly fine.  And as I prepared for my first 100, they were a bit mystified by the concept of this actually being possible and not detrimental.

*Joan still brings up the time I dyed my hair dark brown.

After my dad came out to crew me at Ozark Trail 100 last year, he said that he then understood why I do these things.  He saw first hand that it is less about suffering and more about ambition and persistence.  But to his and any outsider's credit, how could you imagine it as anything but horrifically painful until you are part of it?  I'm happy to say that since then, my dad has run a few half marathons and now even some trail races and we talk often about our respective training and adventures.  My mom now even takes a less scornful eye when going through my pictures and reading about my weekend journeys… that is, as long as I call her each Monday to let her know I'm alive.  They both made the trip out to California last summer for Angeles Crest and were joined by my brother, sister-in-law and niece for a full family experience.  It meant the world to me for them to be there and experience the forest that I'd grown to love over the past few years.  And to see how involved and interested they became in the race and the people was just plain awesome.  There was a reason why the world of ultrarunning had become my greatest passion, and it was of the utmost importance to me that they not only understood, but had a desire to share it with me.

Clutch crew at AC100
(photo: Natalie Kintz)

However, even greater than having my family's support is hearing that they've set like-minded goals for themselves in 2012.  Like I said, my dad is going to run his first marathon - this from a man who when I ran my first preached that the human body wasn't made to go over 20 miles.  I went to some great extremes to prove him wrong and I'm glad he's wisened up.  My brother, Sgt. Eric DeSplinter, is currently serving his second duty in Afghanistan and plans to run the Marine Corps Marathon (also his first) next fall - never to be shown up by both his sister AND his old man.  His five-year-old daughter, the incomparable Chyler Star, is taking note of all of it and is turning into quite the little runner chick herself.  Accordingly, I've equipped her with a pair of New Balance trail kicks and taught her the ways of the run bun.  And probably most special of all is a goal my mom shared with me over Christmas.  She's had quite the rough go of it over the past year, and the beginning of 2012 isn't going to be any easier.  You see, she's having her second knee replaced and that shit is about one million times more serious than a yucca stabbing.  However, she's making it her big goal to be able to run the Run With Santa 5k by the end of the year.  I'm really proud of her for not just setting the goal of getting better from the surgery - but setting the goal to get better than she was before.  'Cause that's what it's all about.  Go, Mom.

Chyler Star - properly equipped for the trails.  On Christmas,
she told me she had run 2,066 miles; which seems like a good start.

Similarly, I'm setting a similar goal for myself in 2012.  I don't just want to get back to where I was in my training before the stabbing.  I want to go beyond.  I want to build upon yet another year of experience and hard work and become stronger, faster and generally more awesome.  Specifically, I want to go sub-11 at Miwok and sub-24 at Western States - to set a finite, non-subjective goal to it.  Also a legitimate goal is to not get stabbed.  Weekdays in the Santa Monicas and weekends in the San Gabriels should do the trick, and right now I'm just focusing on building back up to high mileage gradually.  Well... kind of gradually...

"Holy shit.  That's my name!"  - me upon finding out I had gotten in
to Western States.  (photo: Dom)

On the second day of the year, I finally just said, "fuck it." I was sick of my knee holding me back and I wanted to do something hard and long.  There are way too many innuendoes there for me to even comment.  Anyway, I threw all caution to the wind and headed out to run the last 26 miles of the AC course - the same miles that tried to kill me back in July - and prove to myself that I can work through the pain.  I honestly thought I would have to bail and hike down to the city earlier, but I'm happy to say that I made it.  The rest of the group was surprised at this due to the fact that I did it on 32 oz of water and 330 calories (and it was hot), but I was mainly shocked that my knee held up and I was running down all the hills. Even down Wilson Toll Road - although I have a feeling that was largely due to the fact that Elissa saw a big ass mountain lion there the day before and as such, I didn't want to be the slow one. The other awesome thing was that I proved that even after a month and a half of what could best be described as a "reintroduction to running" rather than actual "training," I'm proud to report that I'm not back where I was on Jan 1 of 2011.  You see, on Jan 1, 2011 I could still not run all the way up Upper Winter Creek out of Chantry without having to hike at some point.  On Jan 2, 2012 - I could.  That is saying something.


Of course, I'm still admittedly out of shape and have a lot of work to do - but hey, that's the fun part.  I've got an ice pack and a pocket full of dreams, so nothing can stop me.  Bring it on 2012.  


Seriously.  


BRING IT.