Pisgah Mountain 23k and 50K!

Brandon J. Baker - 4^th under 30, 21^st overall, 5:02:28

I had the privilege of traveling to my first Ultra-marathon was an amazing crew of CSC alumni and friends, aka- the orange and black fury of the Stepping Razors. I was hoping for Vermont 50 to close an awesome summer of running, but it was not to be (a bit expensive and other life things going on around that time). Instead I’d be travelling to the Pisgah state park in Chesterfield, NH. Although runnin’ solo this time, I was excited and ready for the challenge!

I found the course fairly easy after a relatively short drive ( >1.5 hours) and was feeling pretty good running around, getting numbers pinned, checking the course maps, filling bottles, all that fun stuff. I wore my Pearl Izumi triathlon shirt, Under Armor shorts, Timex hat, Oakley prescription shades, Darn Tough socks and size 10 La Sportiva crosslites- Advertising, nice! My plan was to use gels and water primarily, and make aid stations smooth and light, so I started with two gels in my jersey, one in the shorts pocket and glucose tabs in my left hand, hand-held H2O bottle In the right- I was a little concerned with some recurring pain in the front of my knees, especially the right one, but this would prove to be the least of my worries…

I hadn’t really had much for conversation before the start, except for a few nice people whom I parked next to and the sweet RD Chris who was very reassuring that they had plenty of snacks on course to take care of my diabetes J But as we lined up, I did get a burst of energy seeing a few familiar faces and slapping high fives with a few people and giving “irongirl” a hug. As much as I try to stay calm and stick with my plan, I always go right to the front when the gun goes off; always (well at least since I was a junior in high school cross-country). Although this was easily the strongest field of distance runners I have competed against this year, I quickly made up my mind to hang around the front till the 23k/50k split (a little over 1 mile in).

I have to admit, it was absolutely thrilling to be up there with the big guns; to listen to the conversation, to find a rhythm, to be where I have hoped to be for a very long time. As we climbed our second hill shortly before the split, I let them run away as the pace began to settle in and I began to find my steady, albeit slower rhythm. I spotted Kevin Tilton heading down into the woods to the left about 30 seconds before I took the left hand turn and really begun getting into the Pisgah forest and the adventure that was to come (all 31 miles of it).

I was very alone for the next 45 minutes or so. I felt smooth and fairly strong, and was focusing on going fast, but not too crazy- I would say I steady tempo pace. The course was awesome, well-marked and very runnable. The terrain was pretty consistent in its undulation, yet very soft and full of lush forest and a beautiful canopy of pine overhead. It occurred to me during this first stretch that we couldn’t ask for better weather to run in: 60+ degrees, mostly sunny. Thank You.

My first encounter with other souls was at mile 8.1. I first spotted two women at the first aid station, and then two runners popped out of the woods right behind me. One flew right through the aid station and began the climb; the other slowed a bit and was very friendly as we took off about the same time.

So here we were, deep in the woods, and we were about to hit a steep and consistent paved climb! The other runner was very encouraging as we climbed this hill and set out after the fellow just in front. Turns out the runner I was with was Scott Patnode, a runner I had run with earlier in the year at the Wapack trail race. I greatly enjoyed running with Scott and we went back and forth, up and down, into the next manned aid station at mile 17-

I was in and out of the aid station a little faster than Scott and told him I’d see him soon. Turns out I saw him later than I wanted to, but in much worse shape than anticipated. The next 2.9 miles were some of the hardest of the run (Pisgah Mountain) yet some of the most beautiful. I wish I had been aware enough to enjoy the “stunning” views of Mt. Monadnock. After making it over the toughest of the climbs, I really started to feel shaky on the decent, I had taken in two gels and a few sips of Gatorade at this point, but apparently it was not enough.

Two runners started to approach behind me- It was Scott again, and new friend Amy Lane- Amy asked if I was ok, very kindly. I was not in a state of mind to accept the kindness, grumbled something, and attempted to bridge up to them as they went by… to no avail. I couldn’t wait to see that Aid station!

At mile 19.9, I hit the major aid station and grabbed some snacks from my Eastern Mountain sports plastic bag- Just then a runner came up to the aid station, but this was his SECOND time through. It was the amazing David Herr- and before I could even chew my last fig newton, in came Jim Johnson hot on his tail, these guys were killin it. I smiled in awe, and started my journey to catch, well, somebody.

As I hit the trail around Kilburn pond, I couldn’t help but think of the Clif Bar “comeback” video where Geoff Roes talks about sucking down a few gels and regaining his energy in Western States ‘010 where he came back to win the race. He said he felt a “primal energy” and I tried to harness that as I flew down a double track descent and thought for a second I could get myself back on a good pace. Well, I was not on for long, and as I started the second part of the lake, it was back uphill and I just didn’t have the power to go quick, instead I labored and hiked uphill for awhile, eventually getting caught by two more runners. I chewed on a few more glucose tablets and arrived at the aid station turn just over 4 hours into the race.

I fueled up and took off with another runner and a little over 5.5 miles left. I didn’t catch his name, but was extremely impressed by his solid cadence so late in the race. We ran together for awhile, but I still didn’t feel right and just found myself Hoping upon Hope that I could make it to the finish without having to ingest anymore sugar! Well, wrong again (Note: lower insulin levels starting three days before ultra-runs).

I hit the last aid station with about 2.3ish miles to go and almost entirely flat on dirt and paved roads. I chugged some Gatorade to prevent a last second low and hit the gas (as hard as I could at this point) Hoping to fly through the last few minutes @ an under 8 minute pace to finish strong. I still had hopes of being under 5 hours, but it was definitely a long shot. I felt strong and excited as I hit the pavement with about a mile to go and was even told by a spectator that I “seriously” had about three quarters of a mile to go. I asked him to repeat because I didn’t believe him. Finally, I saw what looked to be like a familiar road and rounded the corner towards the fire station, school and a good number of onlookers. I touched my heart to signify my thanks and smiled as I ran through the shoot in a solid 5hours and 2 minutes of running, my fastest 50k to date.

It was a gorgeous, late summer day. The simple reason as to why I didn’t finish closer to where I was (8^th) 2/3 through the race was because I didn’t prepare my diabetes as well as I could’ve. Not just another long run- I got to be more conservative for the big show! Overall I can be pleased and ever thankful. After all, I just ran 31+ miles, how could any finishing time be upsetting. A special shout out to Scott Patnode, who really showed me great passion and camaraderie in the race, all the while finding his own undoing (an extra lap of Kilburn pond). Scott’s attitude and soul are what Ultra racing are all about- can’t wait to run with you again buddy!

The 2011 Vermont 100 Experience

Sitting down to write this has not been easy. How do I put in to words every piece of my day in Vermont? There are parts I simply have no words for; how do you explain extreme pain? Can you describe what it means run through a field in the middle of the night under a giant harvest moon after having run ~75 miles? Do I start this report by going over the 7 months of training that led to this moment? In many respects I’ve had a hard time moving on from the race and maybe finally writing this damn thing is going to do the trick. So, I’ll try this again…

“Yeah, I’m done”…

That is all I remember saying to Kevin after I tried to get up and walk for the second time. I had tried to ice my legs back to life, which just made me cold, I had tried eating and drinking as much as I could, I knew sitting there was not really doing me any good, the chaffing I won’t describe but it felt like someone had blasted my ass with a flamethrower. My legs were wracked in pain and my feet were on fire; they would not move and any movement sent shockwaves of pain through my left knee, calves, hamstrings and lower back. Mentally I wanted to keep going, I was in the zone (well, some kind of zone), but physically I was unable. And man didn’t I stink. I’d been moving, barely, for the last ~2 miles, each step a struggle; I was so close, so very close and I hated seeing my race come to an end. Here is how I got there…

It starts innocently enough with a drive to Vermont, the birthplace of Vermont in fact. After picking up Kevin and Mike we headed up to Silver Hill Meadow the site of the start and finish of the race. What a scene! A typical Vermont dirt road (which I would see many miles of) leads us up the hill where horse trailers, horses and giant tents greeted us. We parked and I registered, weighed in and had my BP taken; 170 and 122/78 respectively. The only one I was concerned with was my weight, which was to be taken three times throughout the race (they pull runners who lose or gain too much weight). We headed just up the road to the camping field to get everything set up before the pre-race briefing and dinner. My parents arrived just before the pre race briefing and brought with them one of the highlights of the whole weekend…lobster rolls, which hit the spot after a long day on the road. I can’t really say I listened too much to the pre race stuff, one of the race officials droned on and on for a while and I was just ready to eat…once we got to the eating part it certainly proved to be a huge spread of food. We all ate our fill and headed back to the campsite with Brandon Baker in tow as he had come to show support and take in the scene. By now the anticipation of the morning was coming to a head, all that was left to do was to pin on my number and reorganize my gear all over again and wait to go to sleep, which I anticipated would be a difficult thing…my mind was already racing 100 miles. We all go over the final strategy, which we decided will have to be a fluid thing as none of us have done this before. As the sun set and other runners got ready for a short night’s sleep I had doubts as to my ability both physically and mentally to get through the next day. Physically I’d been experiencing some strange pains all week long and mentally I was sorely wanting Lenka to be by my side throughout this as she had endured long months of my training and supported me so much…as I combated these doubts and anxieties with my mantra of “there is no pain as bad as…” I could not help but be very nervous. I hope that I did not show it too much to the guys but as I went to bed just shutting off my brain was hard work. The night of sleep was indeed too short; woke up to use the bathroom twice, the owls were hooting like mad and although it was a clear, moonlit night I certainly did not sleep too well. When I awoke at 2:30 I took a deep breath and stepped out to a gorgeous morning, other folks were stirring and Mike was already up making coffee. I will forever remember that cup of coffee as one of the worst I’ve ever had, no fault of Mike, the culprit is instant coffee which is just bad coffee, but it did the trick. I stuffed my face with oatmeal, fruit and chia and we headed down to the start line. In an effort to be tech savvy I attempted to call Lenka via skype before the start but the signal up in the hills of VT was spotty at best. A few pictures and it was go time…

My first few steps told me it was going to be a long day. We headed down the first dirt road of many and I took it easy for the first few miles picking my way along in the dark with the owls and other runners. My legs felt awful; my left calf felt all twisted up and a sharp pain was emanating from behind my knee up the inside of my hamstring and right in to my lower abdominal. Every step told me it was going to be a struggle but I tried to tell myself that things would loosen up and there was no pain…I continued on until we got to the first of many dirt road climbs and then I slowed to a hike and settled in to a pattern that I tried to follow the whole day; walk uphill, run downhill slowly and try and clip along on the flats. After the first aid station at mile 15 we started to be caught by the horse race and what a sight it was! On the dirt roads the horses would simply thunder by at a casual canter and all the riders were very friendly; in fact it was a welcome distraction for how I was feeling. The VT countryside was another welcome distraction as the sun came up over the hills; what a beautiful day it was going to be…as the miles clipped by I decided that I would switch out some gear at Pretty House (mile 21) where I would see Kevin and Mike for the first time. My shoes and socks were rubbing me the wrong way, which was pretty surprising since I had not had any problems before. At Pretty House I let the guys know I wanted to switch out my gear and what a job the guys did of getting everything ready. I took a pair of Mike’s socks and switched to my Hoka’s and set out again. I would not see them for another 9 miles so I settled in for a long stretch. We hit up some really nice trail running at this point which took us up and over more hills with some spectacular views.

As the morning went on the heat started to increase and I knew that by midday it was going to be a pretty warm day. I was staying really well hydrated and eating enough so I wasn’t too worried about it getting warm, I had other issues to deal with. I still felt the same pains at this point which were really worrisome. There was no way I could keep this up but I wanted to at least get to 30 miles and see if the boys could pull me out of this. The trails opened up a bit and took us up and over some open hills and fields and finally down a long stretch of dirt road in to Stage Rd at mile 30. I came in and as Kevin ran beside me asking me what I needed I said “I need something, I don’t know what but something!” I knew it would be a stretch to go 70 more miles feeling like I did so I stopped for a while and ate a lot of food and cooled off as it was getting pretty hot by this time. Both Kevin and Mike did a great job getting me ready for my next 17 miles out there and I don’t think I would have continued without their encouragement. When I did set out again the road led us to an uphill slog right in the sun and I did not feel good at all; the chaffing had started to irritate me as well and of course I’d forgotten to vaseline up at the start and at Stage Rd.

The miles were going by with a struggle and I told myself that if I didn’t feel at least a little better by Camp 10 Bears (47 miles) I’d have to call it a day. I was not really running with anyone at this point and 17 miles seemed like a tall task feeling like I did but I continued on and then right about at mile 38 before the Lincoln Covered bridge aid station I magically felt a bit better. The sharp pains subsided and went numb for a while and as I crossed Rt 4 and went on to the bridge I saw my dad on the other side and almost broke down in tears. I gave him a hug and continued on to the aid station where my mom had jumped in to volunteer. I loaded up on potatoes/salt and restocked my water and headed out feeling as good as I had all day long. Maybe I could do this, if I could just get to 70 feeling ok perhaps I could finish in less than 24 hrs and accomplish what I had set out to do; push the pain down deep, there is no pain. The next 11 miles were all dirt road and we really started to see the giant endless hills that would haunt me later in the day. But, at this point I felt like I was in a groove and came down the hill to Camp 10 Bears yelling that “I’m back from the pit!” This was the first weigh in and I was a bit nervous but weighed in exactly what I had started at, whew! By that time my folks had switched to volunteering there as well and what zoo it was! Tons of runners were there in various conditions but the guys again took care of me and I fueled up and set out up another hill, which was followed by one of the worst climbs of the day. Dirt road turned to jeep road, to muddy track and by that time the deerflies were attacking me with reckless abandon. It seemed like that climb took me 20 minutes and I just remember feeling pretty exhausted after that. I slogged on past the mile 50 marker in the middle of the woods and on to Tracer Brook at mile 57. I switched socks again and set out.

At this point I settled in to a nice rhythm with a guy from Colorado, Patrick was his name and he was veteran of 100 mile races and this was his first time at VT. I had a great time running with Patrick and his encouragement helped a great deal until we reached Margaritaville at mile 62. I was still doing pretty well at that point; keeping my pace steady on the flats and hiking the many up hills as best I could. 8 miles were all that stood between me and picking up Kevin back at Camp 10 Bears; that was when the race would start all over again for me. By the time I arrived back at Camp 10 Bears I was again feeling pretty exhausted and in a bit of pain. But, I tried to tell myself that I was doing ok. I had about 9 hrs to go the final 30 miles and I’d be done. I weighed in again and had actually gained 3 pounds which was just fine with me. Kevin and I set out and immediately we were climbing again and at this point I felt myself really start to weaken. The climbs were really getting to me, the pain had returned, my feet were on fire but mentally I was ready to get this done with. Get to the next aid station, just keep moving forward, and push away the pain.

We had some great section of trails to run as the sun was setting and when night fell the race started all over again. We were running through some great single track as night fell and when we emerged from the woods we encountered that giant harvest moon over the hills and fields. What a sight, I can’t put it in to words without thinking about the contrast of the beauty of the setting and the absolute agony I was feeling by that point. Coming in to West Winds at mile 77 we climbed a candlelit hill and I got some soup and hot chocolate; I needed caffeine! I was right on schedule at that point and Mike was there to get me what I need and also to point me in the right direction as I tried to run in the opposite direction leaving the aid station!

These next miles were agony and I must have looked like a bent-over stumbling, old man version of myself at points. I did manage to clip off some miles on some single track and dirt roads and I felt like running at Kevin’s elbow was working ok. Get to the next aid station, just keep moving forward, and push away the pain. The hills seemed to be coming more frequently and they were frustrating me a bit as I just could not move up them fast enough. I was mumbling to myself at that point and laughing out loud a bit; I could not have been the most enjoyable company. Finally, off in the distant night we saw the lights of Bill’s at mile 88, the final big aid station and weigh in. Coming in to Bill’s it was like happening on a crazy field hospital in some bizarre war movie. There were people sleeping in chairs, people throwing up, bright lights everywhere, people in various states of degradation…I weighed in for the last time, had gained another pound but they said I was ok to go on. I grabbed some soup and tried to eat as much as possible while staring blankly at the woman on the bench next to me with her running skirt half on rubbing vaseline furiously on herself. Soup was all over the place and I stumbled around wondering what to eat or do next. Mike was there of course and that was the last time I’d see him until the finish; just 12 miles to go.

I was a bit behind schedule at this point and I felt a twinge of panic; I felt awful, my legs were not responding well, the pain was shooting up through my whole body and I just wanted to lie down. We headed out and I stumbled, walked, “jogged” as much as I could for the next mile or so. As we headed down in to a long, long field marked with glow sticks my mind was in a haze of tiredness and pain. However, I was determined and focused on moving forward to the next aid station. If I could just keep moving I’d finish around 24 hours. That is when it happened. My legs would just not move anymore. I struggled on for another 3 miles which probably took almost an hour. I was in bad shape and I knew it. The hills both up and down were killing me and I had to stop at points before taking another step. When we finally reached the mile 92 aid station I knew that a miracle was needed to give my legs enough chance to continue. I ate more soup, a sandwich, more hot chocolate and tried to ice my legs. The ice made me shiver uncontrollably almost as soon as I put it on. Kevin asked for a blanket and I sat down. I tried to get up and nothing; could not move the legs. I sat down again and had more hot chocolate and knew that I was close to dropping. My mind was screaming at me to just go out and stumble my way to the finish but as I tried to stand and walk the second time my body made another decision for me. I had to stop, 92 miles in and 8 more to go. They called it in and we hitched a hellacious ride back to Silver Meadow. I think that was about 21 hours after the start but I’m not sure. I was in and out of it by that point and extremely disappointed. We got back to the start and I needed some help getting in to the medical tent where I rested a bit before crawling in to the back of my parent’s car to sleep for a few hours. I was done.

Even the best runner’s out there DNF; just recently at UTMB Geoff Roes, Dakota Jones, and Scott Jurek. But this has been tough for me to reconcile. I’ve been in pain before; I’ve been in tears and still finished. This was something completely different. Never before did I start a race feeling as awful as I did that morning. For those first ~38 miles I did not think I’d make it to 50. Why? That has been a question on my mind for more than a month now. What could I have done to get to the finish? Could I have slept for an hour or two and been ok? Did I not train enough, too much? Should I have had a cheeseburger and beer at Margaritaville (mile 62)? To this day I still go over the race in my mind. I trained and trained for months to get to that day and in the end could not get to the finish. It has been a struggle to move on. But move on I must. There will be more races to come including facing the hills of Vermont again in 2012.

Of course, there would be none of this to talk about if it were not for the support I am so lucky to have. In addition, the entire event is full of supportive strangers; volunteers, spectators, landowners putting out random aid stations, all the other runners which make this event one worth the entire painful experience. Kevin and Mike have seen me at my worst and best over the years; I knew they would see me in various states of degradation and I was ok with that. We have all been through a lot as friends and brothers and this was certainly a changing point for me not only racing wise but also how much I respect my friends and family for supporting these crazy endeavors and for trying to challenge ourselves as we get older. They drove all over Vermont helping me for many long hours, for that I am eternally grateful and can only hope that they’ll do it again and that I can repay them sometime. Kevin was a great pacer, although I kept feeling bad that I was moving so slowly at points. I now know his right elbow very well…My parents are just amazing people that jumped right in and volunteered and spent a very long day out there as well and they have always inspired me to be a better person by leading the way. Mike was driving all over the place and put more than 150 miles of driving over a very long day and even after getting lost a half a dozen times he was there at each handler station ready for me. Both Kevin and Mike did their best at documenting the event too through our various technological options despite the limitations of our wireless providers’ coverage areas! Also, importantly, Lenka supported me throughout the whole process, from making the decision to try this, to the weekends of long runs, early morning runs on the treadmill which could sometimes last hours, making wonderful food, and keeping me focused. I can’t be thankful enough that I have her in my life and am very lucky to also call her wife! Thank you all so very much.

I read back over this and really can’t stress enough that the experience comes down to more than words can describe. Personally, I had entered this race to finish, and finish I did not so that is disappointing for me and I’ve struggled to regain the drive that got me through the training and to the start line. I’ve also struggled with the lingering injuries I’m now sure I had going in to the race. There have been a few 3-4 hour runs since then and some strong shorter runs but they have not come as easy, been as pleasurable or effortless to recover from. But, I have to keep going. I will try Vermont again next year, I’ll prepare more and I’ll be ready to tackle the hills. Somewhere I’ve read something like “challenges are not what make us stronger, it is meeting those challenges head on and overcoming them that make us stronger”. Throughout this race and all the training that lead to it I certainly got to take a good look in to my own soul, to see and feel my strengths, weaknesses and limitations as a man and human being. It is a humbling thing to reach the limit of one’s physical abilities while mentally wanting to continue fighting. I suppose I would not have it any other way as I go forward in life; this experience has taught me many lessons about myself that I will carry for countless years.

Vermont, see you in July! Razor out.

Stepping Razor-stones Part II -to the Peaks

If you want to run a challenging ultra do this race, you will not be disappointed. The director Andy Weinburg makes it difficult and fun to say the least. If this is your first attempt at an ultra distance this may not be the best choice or if you look at a different way the best possible choice. Plus, if your good friend says it’s a good idea then why not? You trust him right?

Diabolical is the word that comes to mind when I think back to certain sections of the course and although I really had no idea that it would be so technical I felt more or less prepared to spend a day in the hills of Vermont. This would mark the first ultra races for Mike, Kevin and Brandon and I was hoping everyone would have a great day on the trails. It was shaping up to be glorious weather wise as we started out at a chilly 6:00. Brandon took off at the start and I expected to see him at the finish the way he appeared ready for the race. I steadily made my way from the start with some slow running and hiking until we go way up on the top of the first major climb; what view, what an absolutely beautiful morning it was out there. Some great single track greeted us once we got to the top and me and small group hit that section pretty hard and came back down and around to loop back on the dirt road and then back in to the woods for the first really ridiculous climb and decent bushwhacking up and then down a really steep section. I loved it, absolutely loved the fact that we were just bombing down the side of mountain with no trail.

Once we hit the aid station at mile 12 I had settled in to a good pace and was going back and forth with a young woman who was running strong. I introduced myself and she said her name was Serena. We set off on a 6 mile out and back look that took us up again, bushwhacked through the woods and then back down. As I was trying to keep up with her I kept thinking back to all the research I’ve done over the months in preparation for Vermont; the endless lists of race results that are etched in my mind. Where had I seen her name? So on the way back to the 18 mile aid station I asked if her last name was Wilcox, and indeed it was. What was I doing running with her? She finished 2^nd female and 12^th overall at Vermont last year in less than 19 hours, a super strong runner. I decided then and there that I would stick with her as long as I could and see how it would go.

There is one inevitable result from running ultra’s; a certain amount of pain and discomfort. At some point your body is going to hurt and it is how you respond both physically and mentally that will get you through those tough spots and the pain you may feel. It helps to repeat a mantra (as MM has described in his Peaks post) that is easy to remember and something that is close to you. For me, it was a pretty personal reminder of what real pain is, what real strength is both mentally and physically; my father’s long bout with spinal nerve and back pain spanning 30+ years of varying degrees of excruciating physical pain, and the mental pain my wife is going through facing the daunting decision to work a high profile job almost 4000 miles away to give her family (that’s me so far) better options for the future. The point of the mantra was to push away any thought of slowing down because it “hurt”, not that I was running reckless through the woods, but to bury that physical and mental pain/doubt that I may feel during the race and just run, just go for it and do the best that I could.

At that point in the race I was feeling pretty good and we busted out the dirt road miles pretty quickly, bushwhacked our way up another mountainside and headed to the endless switchbacks, which happen to be on the backside of the snowshoe marathon course. It was here that I pushed the envelope a little further. I ran the first switchback and that felt pretty good, then the second, then the third and on up until I saw Brandon a couple rungs above us. I couldn't believe it; I thought for sure that I wouldn't see him till the finish. When we passed him it was evident he had hit a low (in terms of sugar that is) and needed a few minutes to ingest some calories. After making sure he was ok we continued hitting the switchbacks pretty hard and Serena was letting me set the pace. The climb to the top ended with another steep hike to the top and we headed towards the last section down to the finish.

This last section of the trail was somewhat familiar as it was part of the snowshoe course and so I remembered when we were getting close. What an absolutely gorgeous day and I could smell the finish…just a little further and we pushed it right up to the finish…good thing too because I was about to throw up! When I finished I knew I’d done well, I knew I’d pushed it hard and really raced for the first time and well, third place was a pleasant surprise.

Brandon came in about 13 minutes later looking much stronger than when I saw him last;this kid is going to win races and be a top runner for years to come, he has a great outlook on running and I look forward to running with him again!

Kevin came next about an hour later looking strong, relaxed and happy, just as I’d hoped. We were all pulling for Mike to reach his goal of an 8 hour finish and sure enough just he came charging to the finish in a little bit over 8 hours…keep in mind he had been slightly coerced in to running this, his first ultra, just two weeks prior!

As usual, we all had a tremendous amount of support; this day it was Christsonthy and Lenka helping us along all day and putting in quite a few hiking miles themselves. The day was capped by a great gathering of friends that happens all too seldom, we are so blessed to have formed the friendships we have. It was a little sad for me as well as I knew this would be the last time for a while that Lenka would have to put up with waiting all day at a race. She would be leaving for her new job in a week’s time and well…that is another story.

So here I am less than 48 hrs from the start of the VT 100…I hope I’m ready, I hope I make it, I hope I can stop thinking about it so I can sleep. Razor out…

Stepping Razor-stones Part I

As the anticipation and realization that I’m running 100 miles on Saturday hits me I also want to reflect on two very different races. For me it was back to back weekends of absolute joy…not only did I get to spend time outside with friends and family we also experienced a number of firsts and personal bests out on the trails.

Pineland Farms is such a great race, well organized, super atmosphere, great beer that I’ll always come back to run as many of these races as possible. This year would mark the first team run and 25k run I’ve taken part of and it was a ton of fun. I had a great deal of difficulty trying to figure out how to train for this race; what was speed training again? Most of my training has been geared towards the VT 100 and that means long, slower runs with plenty of technical terrain and long sections of power hiking up mountains. About 10 days out from the race in a moment of self doubt (on a particularly bad run feeling fat and slow) I decided to really make an effort to push the speed work. What does that mean? It means heading out and warming up for a bit (1-2 miles) then hitting the gas peddle as hard as possible up hills, down hills and flat sections on varied terrain from road to trail, to super-technical trail; typically these runs are anywhere from 4-15 miles. Luckily, we are not too far from Pineland and we got to run the course about 3 times. One of those times I ran in the Kutting Weight shirt, which is basically a wetsuit…I’ve never been so exhausted, soaked and spent after 8 miles. I had no taper heading in to the race and felt absolutely awful and more nervous about being slow than I should have been.

There is a back-story here that prevails over any of the race details or training…it is the fact that we were running as a team; new friends and also dear friends and brothers (13 years now?). The tale of how we got to this point is a long one but I still remember when none of us ran at all and when we did it was usually a short-lived attempt at getting in shape or to impress a significant other (and destroying oneself in the process). That being said, I wanted to run with Kevin and going in to the history behind that is a book on it's own. I knew he wanted to go fast and so did I and that is just what we set out to do, break Kevin’s personal best of 2:15. And damn didn’t it get hot for the first time that summer. We set out at a fast but comfortable pace and kept it up for the first 10 miles pretty well…no walking the hills today. Once we crossed the road I think we were both ready to slow down a bit but ended up having a pacer of sorts for most of the last 5.5 miles who really pushed the pace. We finished in 2:06 absolutely crushing his time (yes 9 minutes is a long time in racing) and I’ve never had so much fun racing. What was more fun was grabbing a couple beers and cheering on everyone else come across.

As this was the first team run for team SRRS I thought we had a great day, some of us had not even trained to run the race at all (Caron, Lenka)! Some had injuries but ran anyways (Christsonthy), Ben unexpectedly set a PB at 2:48, and everyone finished under 3 hours on what turned out to be a scorcher of a day. Yes, essentially it was a training run, but it was without a doubt the most fun I’ve had running a race to date and symbolically served as a reminder of just how far we’ve all come…and we’ve only just begun!

Race Report: Eastman Splash, Mash, Dash

This was my second outing at the Eastman Splash, Mash and Dash. Last year, Eastman was only the second Triathlon I had ever participated in, and I had such a great time that I decided I would make this an annual event. This year, I was joined by not only Mike Linville, but also my wife and first time Triathlete Signe Linville.

Leading up to the race, I was slightly concerned because the majority of my training year to date has been running, with limited focus on the biking and swimming aspects. I knew that I wasn't going to have a problem finishing; it was just a matter of doing better than I had done the previous year. I figured that my run would improve, but I was crossing my fingers with both the swim and the bike.

As usual, night before the race was pre-race casserole, prepping all of our gear and discussing the race. I had been up way too late the night before, and by 8:30, I was ready to fall asleep. The morning came and bikes went on to the car, then a twenty minute drive and we were there. That is another part of the Eastman that I love, it is just so close. We registered, got our gear over to the transition area, laid everything out and got everything in place for the race.

Now, the transition area is a key component to anyone competing in a triathlon. My first ever transition from swim to bike took nearly 4 minutes... way too long. After the race my father asked me if I had taken a nap in between the swim and bike. So, as you can imagine, I like to have everything set up just so, so I can get in and out of the transition area without being accused of slumbering.

I hopped into my wetsuit and headed to the water to warm up. Signe and Mike joined me and we all got in and started swimming. The blister on my foot from the Peaks 50K had pretty much healed up, however, there was still a bit of extra skin that started to bother me when I got into the water... I quickly hopped out of the water and started my search for some athletic tape... at this point there was about twenty five minutes until the race started.... but after about five minutes, I realized I was going to be out of luck... and at this point we had five minutes to get to the starting line for the pre race announcement.

At this point, I was irritated that I didn't have my toe taped, but I knew I needed to focus and get into race mode. Signe, Mike and I gave each other high fives, words of encouragement and wished each other luck. I gave Signe a big kiss and headed towards the water with the rest of the guys in the silver swim caps. Now, I am not one for crowds or getting kicked in the face whilst swimming, so I headed almost to the end of the group of men, got to the front of the group, put on my Swedish goggles and told myself to push it.

Before I knew it, I was in the water, breathing on my left to keep an eye on the markers and I felt like I was moving at a decent pace. I however felt more people around me than I had the year previously, so I immediately figured that I wasn't going keep the same pace as last year and would have to make it up on my bike and run, which I figured I could do. I made my turn at the marker and picked up the pace some more. I started to breathe on both sides and really tired to make up some time. I came out of the water and felt a little disoriented and made my way to my bike. I didn't get a chance to look at the clock and at this point (I really didn't have time to), but I knew I needed to get in and out. My wetsuit came off easy; shoes, gloves, helmet all went on quickly... though my shirt on the other hand wasn't going on as I had hoped, but soon enough, I was running my bike out of the transition area.

The bike course at Eastman is great - you catch your breath and head up tiny hill before you are shot down a hill where you can get some serious speed, there are even bales of hay ready to catch any errant bikers... I came close, but luckily, I didn't eat it. Once I had caught my breath, I was moving along at a decent clip, however, I knew immediately that I needed to push harder because the same guy who passed my the year previously on his bike passed my at about the same spot this year. The reason I remember this guy is because he is about 6'4' and has a beard like Rick Rubin. So, I keep him in my sights and push. At the bottom of the first hill, to the turn around point is one long slow uphill. I get as tight to my bike as possible... utilize the newly attached areo bars and pedal. The burley, bearded, biker slowly pulls out of sight... but I keep on push, telling myself, I will catch him in the run. At the turn around, I am feeling pretty good, so I decide that I am going to crank hard... I put the bike in the lowest gears and stomp. I caught up to a few triathletes, but found myself going back and fourth with another cyclist and as were at the same pace and there is a time penalty for drafting I decided to drop back briefly so as to save the appropriate amount of energy for the last up hill climb before the run. The uphill was brutal, the hay bails, now on my left, were not there to stop me from crashing anymore but there to catch me from falling from exhaustion. But, I pushed past the final hill and started back down the tiny hill prior to the transition where I nearly hit a local Eastman resident in their vehicle. Not the most appropriate time to pull out into the middle of a race, but at the same time, not very convenient having a race in the middle of your neighborhood either. I might have cursed at the vehicle, repeatedly, but I was competing and although at the time I was a bit irritated, my adrenaline really started pumping and geared me up for the run.

The second transition was quick, take off my helmet, gloves, switch shoes a quick shot of Gu and go... the run goes through the Eastman trails, past a few homes and back around again. My legs took about a quarter mile to adjust from the bike to the run, I felt a little heavy at first, but once I got through a few down hills and trails, the course flattened out and I told myself that I had the energy and that it was time to let loose and go. I started to wonder if I would catch up with the bearded biker, I pushed hard and past the half way mark, and picked it up some more, I had about a mile to go and there 50 yard from me was my guy... I saw him and pushed harder, passed him with ease, without a word or a nod, he doesn't know me, he doesn't know that he is my target and I go... the downhills are now uphills, but I have the energy at the top of the big hill a volunteer said to me "well, you've got some pep in your step", I smile and keep on going. I come out of the woods and I start to hear Charlie, the race director announcing peoples names as they cross the finish line. I am nearly there and I am hoping that I am ahead of last years time, but at this point, I don't know. I come around the final corner into the pen, I see the clock and I smile... but pick up the run to a sprint.

I have finished the race ahead of my time from last year and as I find out later, I have improved my bike by 1 minute, my swim by 3 minutes (to my surprise) and my run by 3 minutes. In total, I have taken 7 minutes of my 2010 Splash, Mash and Dash and I am really excited. I wait by the finish line to see both Mike, who started in the 2nd heat and Signe who started in the 3rd heat. Mike finishes ahead of his time last year and Signe finished right around where I suspected she would finish, which for a first timer and limited time on a bike, is great.

I will be back again in 2012 and I have set a goal of taking 10 minutes off my time by next year...

Time sp swim T1 bp bike T2 rp run
2010 1:27:25 17 9:15 1:42 80 44:39 0:54 100 30:56
2011 1:20:32 16 6:07 2:04 89 43:26 1:06 81 27:50

I will be back with another race report after the Prouty 100 on July 9th, until then.... IABDAIGTBA

Moon
Head, Heart, Feet

STEPPING RAZOR RUNNING SQUAD REPORT - PINELAND FARMS CHALLENGE 25K & PEAKS 50K

Head, Heart & Feet

When I played Little League Baseball, like many of us, my father was the coach and before each game he would give a speech to the team. My father would have us all sit down or take a knee and he would say that there are just three things we need to play well. He did this before every game. He told us that we needed our head, heart and feet. Such a simple message, but as I am now 32 years old, I have found that this message still holds true.

In the past two weeks, I have run two races and a number of miles in between. The first race was the Pineland Farms Challenge 25K. An amazing course, wonderful atmosphere, a bluegrass band at the finish-line and the Stepping Razor Running Squad came out... well you guessed it.... running. This was a training run for me as the very next weekend would be the Peaks 50K in Pittsfield, Vermont. I knew this going into the race and told myself that I would need to run a smart race, but as the race started I got caught up in the excitement and didn't stick with my game plan. The message that my father would stress about the head was that you always need to be thinking about each situation, where to throw the ball in any given situation, when to lay down a bunt, when to swing for the fences so on and so fourth. Now, baseball and running are two very different sports in many ways, however, each sport as you already know, requires critical thinking. Now, my heart and my feet were there... they were rocking, everything was going just fine, I was feeling good... but then the first aid station came and went with only a sip of water and cytomax... I might as well have left my head at home. I needed to fuel, early and often and I didn't. Pineland Farms is a challenge, there isn't a moment where you are not running up a hill or down a hill and typically on uneven ground. At approximately the 15K, I was spent; I had passed three aid stations and had sipped water, cytomax, taken a bite of a peanut butter sandwich and to my dismay grabbed a cup of Mt. Dew thinking it was gatorade... whoops. At this point, I had 10K to go and I was feeling... well, pretty shitty... the afternoon sun had started to pound down on me (as well as everyone else) and my legs were not feeling very strong... sweat was pouring out of my body and at one point I was passed by a gentleman who said "Dude, you are soaked"... and I was, absolutely soaked, which didn't do much for my moral. But I put my head down and chugged along, I wasn't going to stop now, I would crawl to the finish line if it came down to that. But it didn't, my body held up and with about a 5K to go, I told myself that I would be smarter in my next race and that today is a beautiful day and it is great to be alive... which it was... one of the best days of the year, sunny, warm, everything we've been wanting here in New England since the snow has melted... as I trudged along and finished the race in just under 3 hours, the rest of the Razors stood at the finish line cheering me on, greeting me with congratulatory hugs and high fives... for all intensive purposes, I should have been happy to have finished, but I wasn't, I expected more out of my performance. But, it is at this moment after a "bad" race, that I remember sitting down under a tree in my stirrups, baseball cap, old glove in hand and hearing these three simple words. Head. Heart. Feet. Head. Heart. Feet.

Now, going into a 50K, I didn't know what to expect... I had run a 25K on my own before, I had upped my mileage substantially, but had not endured 30 plus miles ever... I had 6 days to recover and get ready... I knew that I had to run, but limit myself to allow for recovery in between the races... I was there, I was thinking, I was smart each day, stretching, projecting, planning and in my mind, I told myself that I could get through this 50K, but I wouldn't be able to rely on just pure muscle and will... I would need to approach this race with a plan; walk the hills, fuel every 45 minutes, drink plenty of fluid and run when I can. Pretty simple. Race day grew closer, conversations with Zak and Kevin helped and Friday evening came quickly. As usual, we had prepared the pre-race casserole, Zak, Lenka, Kevin, Christsonthy and Brandon came to the house and we ate and prepped all of our gear in our drop bag, we discussed the race to exhaustion and went to our respective rooms at a decent hour to try to get a few hours of sleep before our 3:30 am wake up call. I was pretty luck, sleep came easily as did the wake up call... downstairs, oatmeal, coffee and out the door... a great morning outside, the drive to Pittsfield was great, we arrived at the Pittsfield Country Store where Race Director Andy Weinberg greeted us with hats, shirts & a bib number, we hopped over to Aimee Farm, parked and stripped down, it was 5:45 am and Andy gave us the run down on the course, got us all to the starting line, in all, I would guess there were about 75 to 100 of us, and counted down for the race to start.... the start of the race pointed us directly into the woods and up a hill, five.... I stripped off my long sleeve shirt, four... another short sleeve shirt... I repeated to myself, Head, Three... Heart, Two... Feet, One.... GO! And we were off, straight up a hill, Zak, Brandon and Kevin all darted ahead of me and initially, I wanted to go and stay as close as I could... but I knew if I did that, I would not be running my race and I most likely wouldn't finish. So, I plotted... one step at a time... I was passed by a handful of people and the initial burst up the hill turned into a hike... I said to myself "walk the hills, Mike" and that is what I did.

I plotted along slowly and I determined that the first 18 miles would be the most important part of the race for me, because after mile 18, I was going to be on my own... no more manned aid stations until mile 28. I made my way up hills, down hills, through fields, onto logging roads, up a brutal hill that looped back and sent us bushwhacking through the forest. I met two young dudes, Tim and George who had driven from NJ through the night only to arrive in Pittsfield at 4 am. They got 45 minutes of sleep, then got up, registered and started running... And I thought getting 5 hours of sleep was crazy. With the exception of meeting Tim & George, for about the first three and a half hours of the run, I was alone... seeing people here and there. Then at the mile 12 and 18, there was a manned aide station where Brandon Baker was just about to head out having lead the race for 16 miles... I asked him how he felt and he said good and pointed down the road to another runner who had just left the aid station and said "There is my race" and moments later he started heading down the road with a few skips to get the legs moving again and then boom, he was off running. I ate, peanut butter and honey sandwich, drank and dropped off my fuel belt because knew I would be back here at mile 18. I started back up the road, and immediately I saw Zak Wieluns, he was running next to a young woman, he pointed at her and lipped "She is fast!!!", I smiled we laughed and I kept on going, only to cross paths with Kevin Kerner five minutes later, we greeted one another told each other we felt fine and laughed and kept on moving. At this point, I met another runner, another Kevin, who was running the 50 Miler. Kevin was wearing the Technica Diablo Max, which I was reading about only days earlier and as he was about two inches taller than I am, I was inclined to find out more... we chatted about the shoes, running in general and like everyone I met up to this point, Kevin was super nice. As we parted, another runner came cruising out of the woods coming the other way, and he yelled "Yeah Man! Living life, keep it rockin'!" and flew off back towards the mile 18 aid station. I was at about mile 14, I was feeling good and between the conversation with Kevin, seeing the other Razors and the wild man flying out of the woods, I had a serious amount of adrenaline coursing through my veins, at this moment, I knew I could do this, and that I could start to push with my heart and my feet. I didn't pick up the pace significantly, nor did I stop hiking the hills, but there was a pep in my step, a confidence. At about mile 15, I met back up with George, he was wondering if I had seen Tim, I told him I though he was ahead of the both of us, George said that he might not get past mile 18... I told him to keep on fueling and to stay strong and passed George as he took a seat to drink some water. I kept on moving and made it back to the mile 18 aid station, where I was offered a Swedish massage, which I would be happy to take now, but at the time refused... a volunteer filled up both of my water bottles, I downed a bottle of chia mixed with a recovery powder, ate some more snacks, put back on my fuel belt and said to myself "alright, this is it, you've got it"... I started to head down the road and Andy yells "THERE GOES MIKE MOONEY, FROM MIDDLEBURY VERMONT!" and the entire aide station, filled with runners, volunteers, about 20 people in total cheered... I raised my arms in appreciation and continued down the road, feeling good.

At this point, I knew there was no looking back, either I was going to finish this race, or I would still be in the middle of the woods in central Vermont living in a self made Lean-to in order to get ready for next years 50K. I moved right along and at about mile 20, I ran into Tim again and a local runner whose name I didn't catch. Tim had run an extra 3 miles as he missed the turn after the aid station, he said his moral was down, I think that having a few runners by his side helped get him back on track as we hiked through some difficult terrain and soon there after, both runners pushed ahead of me as we came out of the forest back onto a local dirt road. It was good to see Tim cruise along. At about mile 22, I came across another runner, whose name I believe is Yan Xia, he was on the ground, legs stiff as a board straight out and wincing... He had some serious leg cramps going on, I stopped, offered him some water and fuel and he refused as he said that he had both food and gatorade. He told me to keep on going and not to wait as the cramps would soon subside and that he would see me at the finish line... I hesitated and chatted with him for a few moments, but he kept on telling me to go... so I did, reluctantly. As I was running, I thought to myself that I hope he does finish. I kept on running and got to the base of the final uphill battle I knew I would face before the last leg of the race. There was water, I filled up, splashed it on my head and headband and jumped across the trickling stream and entered into the woods, where switchbacks are a dime a dozen. I was lucky, because I had caught back up with Tim, he was trooping along and we met back up and it felt like we were pushing each other to get through the race. We chatted, walked the hills, ran the flats and it felt like we were moving. I was, at the same time, telling myself that I can push through and that I just need to work hard because once I got through this, it would be all down hill... my heart and feet were getting me through this portion of the race. We made decent time up this mountain bike path and as the switchbacks ended and a monstrous hill started, a tree lay perfectly across the path to sit for a moment, fuel up and drink some water. I collected myself, hopped over the tree and started up the hill... Tim said he thought one of his toe nails was about to fall off and he was going to take another moment, I asked him if he was alright and he said yeah... so I pushed on. Made it to the top of the hill, came out to the mile 28 aide station, had half of a peanut butter sandwich, a fig newton and went on my merry way... into a trail market "the Labyrinth", it was dark, dingy and filled with more switchbacks... but I didn't care, I was so close, just push, heart and feet. I saw a sign for Aimee Farm... it said 4.5 miles; I thought it was more like 3... but whatever, almost there. And then came the downhills, my dogs were barking at this point, I noticed a blister on the big toe of my left foot and I was holding back as much as possible so as to not over extend or put too much pressure on my feet. I said to myself, head, heart and feet, head, heart and feet over and over... I was so close and then, my left foot landed on a rock pointing out of the ground and instantly a sharp pain ran through my entire leg... I yelled, slowly limped to a halt and my foot was throbbing... I didn't know if a toe nail had fallen off, or if a blister had exploded. I sat down and my first thought was to take off my shoe and take a look... but I thought to myself, I've got about a mile to go, just get to the finish line. I untied my laced, wrapped the laced on my fingers a few times and pulled as tight as I could, more pain, I pulled tighter, tied the laces, triple laced them, got up and slowly limped, still wincing in pain. At that moment, Yan, who I came across on the ground wincing in pain, came up from behind me and asked me if I was ok, I told him I was alright and he smiled and said, see you shortly. I thought to myself, now he has heart and put my left foot down, then my right and so on and so fourth... slowly climbing down the hill, popping out of the woods to see a bridge leading towards Aimee Farm... relief!... I crossed the bridge and was greeted by Brandon, who came down to find me, he told me I only had a third of a mile to go, I smiled and picked up the pace as much as I could and came out of the clearing and standing on top of the hill was Lenka, Christsonthy, Kevin and Zak yelling at the top of their lungs. As I crossed the finish line, Yan was there waiting to congratulate me on the finish. Zak and Kevin came to greet me and they both gave me a hug, we laughed and celebrated, it was awesome. I had completed a very challenging 50K and I don't think I would have made it had it not been for the pre-game speeches my father gave when I played little leauge. head, heart and feet. simple. effective.

I have to note, that everyone involved from Race Director Andy Weinberg, to the Volunteers, to all of the runners I met, there was an energy that made the entire experience that much easier. The course was well marked, other runners cheered each other on as they passed one another, the aid stations had the nicest volunteers I have ever experienced and the support from Lenka Wieluns and Christsonthy Drellos was wonderful.

A mighty congratulations to Kevin, Brandon and Zak. All Graduates of Colby-Sawyer College, all Stepping Razors and all inspiring to me and the people that know them.

It will be a little while before I take on my next ultra, but Zak, you are right, the worm has turned.

Its a beautiful day and its great to be alive

Moon

Stepping Razor Update - The Tough Mudder New England May 7th 2011

My first race of the season was the ever growing Tough Mudder in West Dover, Vermont at Mount Snow May 7th. To put it simply, it is a great race with some of the most effective marketing of any race out there. My training, for the most part has been running, running and more running... with a splash of pull ups, push ups and not nearly enough sit ups.

The months leading up to the Tough Mudder I thought very little of the race, rather, I just focused on getting out and training most every day and it wasn't until the week before the race that I started to... well... freak out a little. With a few people asking me "Are you crazy", I started to ask myself "Am I crazy!?!", but then I stepped back and thought... just because there is a death waiver... doesn't mean people have died. In fact, I googled it... and nope, no reports of anyone dying at a Tough Mudder... but broken ankles, torn ACLs, etc... those can and do happen at this race. So, I calmed down a bit, but for the first time in a long while, I had the jitters. I think the last time that happened was in college before my last baseball game, in 2002... nine years ago. And, to be honest, it was an awesome feeling.

The night before the race, the In-laws (Renee and Mike Linville) and Zak arrive at the house and we prep for the race with a now staple, Pre-race casserole that Signe has perfected. At this point, you should know that Mike, Signe's dad, my father-in-law, who is 63 years old, is running the race with me. We eat, we go over all of the 28 obstacles, we pace, and discuss the morning schedule... At this point, there is no turning back... In the morning we are going to embark on a race unlike any other... to say the least, falling asleep was not easy.

The alarm goes off at 4:15 am and unlike most mornings, I shoot up and head down stairs... Signe and Renee have been up prepping our breakfast... Yes, I am a very lucky man and I am very aware of this... Mike, Zak and I pack up the car, we are handed our breakfast, coffee, kisses and we are off, Fleet Foxes new album Helplessness Blues guides the way... We arrive 15 minutes early, register, get all of our gear ready and warm up for our 9 am start.

It's time, nerves are pumping... we remove the layers, strip down to shorts, tank top, sneakers, gloves and although it was warmer than anticipated the nipples were ready to cut glass. We make our way up to the starting line, introductions are made, a reminder that we signed the Death Waiver is repeated over and over and the national anthem and boom, cloud of smoke and we are off...

Now, while I could give you an play by play of the 28 brutal obstacles and 10 grueling miles up and down Mount Snow... I refuse to do that, it is something that must be experience first hand... because more than a race, it is an experience... and I am guessing that if you have read this far, you probably are thinking to yourself "I want to do a Tough Mudder" or you have already done a Tough Mudder and don't need me to tell you what it was like... because you were there and you already know that it was awesome.What I will tell you is that my father in law is an animal, that the guys that teamed up with us for the Berlin walls were awesome, that I hope the Tough Mudder continues to raise a ton of money for the Wounded Warrior Project and that I will be back next year, faster and stronger and oh yeah... I am crazy.

And one last note, if you don't think you can do this... you are wrong, you can... I am certain.

MoonKeep an eye out for an update soon after the Pineland Farms 25k on May 29th... the Stepping Razors Running Squad is ready to rock! For more information check out Pineland Farms