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Top 10, 2009

2009-12-20T00:00:00Z

Geez... 2010. By now I thought we'd be cruising around our bubble cities with jetpacks on our backs, but instead, all we're doing is tap-tap-tapping away at our fancy phones. It's pretty cool... but I can't help but feel a little let down.

As always, the best things, really, this year were my friends, family and pets. You guys all pretty much rule, but it'd be pretty lame to put you on my top 10 list.

This is America. These lists are for for stuff one can consume, dammit!

In no particular order...

Crank 2. How friggin' awesome was this movie? The first one... a tough act to follow. We were all skeptical. It delivered. Big time. Crank 2 is total mayhem built on the most ridiculous plot ever: after a huge gang fight at a hotel, Chelios is killed falling out of a helicopter at the end of the first flick. But wait! Just moments after hitting the pavement, his body is snatched by a group of Asian gangsters who want to keep him alive to harvest his legendary organs. Chelios wakes up with an artificial heart and the pursuit to reclaim his lost organ begins, all set to a soundtrack composed by Mike Patton from Faith no More. With that kind of setup, how could it not be incredible? This might be the best movie ever made. If it wasn't for...
Up. How adorable was this? Superb story telling. Also great: The Hangover, Hurt Locker, Men who Stare at Goats, Bruno, 2012. Didn't have a chance to see Inglorious Bastards yet...
TheAwl.com. When Ron Paul kicks the Spendocrats out of office and we can finally experience true freedom, I will take this website as my bride. Launched a couple months ago by a bunch of underemployed journalists, theAwl has quickly become my main news source for crazy Jewish conspiracy theories, hip hop music interpretation, Berlosconi updates, celebrity tomato attacks, the decoding of twitter trends, etc... Basically, everything that's relevant to my life as it is now. Also fascinating, the news feed from TheMorningNews.org. I think those two sites might be in league somehow, but I'm not sure.
New Balance MT100's. The most important thing about selecting an athletic shoe is the athlete associated with it. I'm, like, so over Scott Jurek and his clunky Cascadias. I'm into Anton Krupicka now.
Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen. Three years ago, when I was doing my first real trail race up in the Mazatzals, I found myself cruising along, talking to some big bald dude. "I'm doing a book about ultramarathoning," Chris McDougall told me. "Whatever, jerk," I replied. "I can't believe you're about to beat me." Then the book came out. It's fantastic... probably the best book ever written about ultramarathons. At once both a compelling narrative as well as a treatise of the virtues of minimalist running, Born to Run is way more engaging than I thought it would be. I stayed up all night reading it. In fact, it's probably the best way to explain...
100 mile trail races. The brutality is unparalled, but this year I did both the Vermont 100 and Javelina Jundred. Although I only finished the latter, both were amazing, just incredible experiences. I am super lucky that I get to do these things... can't wait to do Western States 2010.
Nirvana, "Live at Reading"... grunge will never die! Sure, I never thought I'd see 2010 when I was 16, but I'm sure the past me would approve of my current lifestyle: still wearing the sandals, cargo shorts, and flannel shirts, still walking a big slobbery dog around the suburbs, rockin' out to Nirvana. "Live at Reading" sounds as vital today as "Unplugged" sounded back in the day. They must've been a heck of a live band, because there's an urgency, a rawness that's missing from most stuff that I've heard for awhile. Honorable mention: Lanhorne Slim, "Be Set Free"... it would be criminal not to mention Jay-Z and "The Blueprint 3." I also really dug Kid Kudi's "Man On The Moon: The End Of Day," Lil' Wayne's "No Ceilings" mixtape, Owl City "Ocean Eyes," Raekwon's "Only Built for Cuban Linx II," Phoenix "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix." The Lonely Island cannot be denied. Best live show had to be Deer Tick at the Rhythm Room... although finally seeing Gwar was probably a close second. Daytrotter continues to deliver tons of excellent live music, totally free.
Orange Blossom Beer at Papago Brewery. Smooth and creamy... like drinking a creamsicle. In a good way. Probably the best summertime post-swim workout recovery beer of all time. While we're talking about food 'n' drink, gotta give props to the Rokerij. That place... so perfect. So is The Lost Leaf. Parlour is a little too hip for its own good, but pretty tasty nonetheless -- good drinks -- and the waitress at Trader Vic's always seems to remember that I want a mohito, despite that I only go there once in awhile. Kinda weird...
Podcasts. Jordan, Jesse Go / The Sound of Young America / Wiretap / Savage Love / The Bugle / NPR Planet Money / You Look Nice Today / This American Life / Comedy Death-Ray radio / The Onion Radio News. Yes... I'm a nerd. I love podcasts. If we're going to include video in that, you've gotta give it up for the Onion News Network, which really came into its own this year. I think this is the funniest video I saw all year.
Twitter. I know... right? How super dorky is that? The thing is... I kind of love twitter. It's so... simple. It's hard to believe it hasn't always existed, yet the engineering behind doing it at the scale they're doing it kind of boggles the mind. Facebook, now that pretty much everyone is on it, is super practical now... and the proliferation of single subject tumblr blogs is kinda rad, too. My absolute favorite stupid site of the year had to be kanyelicio.us. Classic retarded genius.

I AM IRONMAN!

2009-11-23T00:00:00Z

Finished in 13:02:50... not too bad for my first triathlon, eh?

"I have no business being here..." I told another bemused participant as we hung out by the side of Tempe Town Lake, all decked out in identical swim caps and black wetsuits. We were a fit looking bunch, all in a pretty chatty mood. "I mean, I've done other ultra distance stuff so it's not totally crazy that I'd throw my hat into the ring for this, but I feel like I'm way undertrained. I did my first open water swim in a wetsuit yesterday."

I didn't start the day scared, really... after finishing the Javelina Jundred, I didn't feel like I had much to prove. Ironman Arizona... it was just a bonus race, I told myself. A lark. Still... I paid almost $500 to participate, so I was determined not to let it go to waste.

To some extent, I was very well prepared. I mean, obviously, having just completed a 100 mile ultramarathon three weeks ago, I'm in fantastic shape.

Still, though... I really only started cycling in earnest about five months ago. I was out on my bike a couple nights a week towards the end of my training regiment leading up to the JJ100, but did one 100 mile ride, that's it. All in all, it had gone well, but I certainly wasn't sure how I'd fare when doing 112 miles as part of a longer race.

Same way with swimming. I'd been the pool all summer -- what else can you do in AZ after work when it's 110 degrees out -- but I'd never swam a full 2.4 miles, and I'd certainly never done it in open water with a wetsuit. The day before the race, I took the wetsuit I rented from the awesome folks at Triple Sport out for a test drive. Felt weird. Floaty. It left me wishing I'd given that a try at some point earlier in my training cycle.

Standing on the edge of that lake, though, I was committed. I certainly wasn't 100% sure I'd survive that swim, but I was determined to give it my best. That's all you can do, right?

That swim start is fucking insane. Sure... I was warned about it -- "a mosh pit," "the washing machine effect," etc... but there's really nothing that can prepare you for what happens when 2500 psyched up triathletes all start swimming at once.

The race starts with the entire field floating in Tempe Town Lake. It's crazy to see from the shore -- just a bunch of bobbing heads -- but from the water, it's even more surreal. When things get going, everyone goes as hard as possible immediately. There's no room between people, so things get ugly fast -- everyone colliding, kicking each other, it's like a giant scrum. I'm half convinced we all wear the same swimcaps is that it makes it harder to target specific people later for revenge after the horrible things they've done in the water.

At first, the frantic action was too much for me. I had to fight my way over to the side of the lake and sit for a minute, just to keep from hyperventilating. After a few seconds, though, I plunged back in. There was still a ton of contact, but I kinda found my rhythm and before I knew it, I was breathing normally and moving along at what I considered a reasonable pace.

Navigating in the open water was kind of tricky for me. For the most part, I just followed the crowd, but on the return trip around the lake, I kinda found myself swimming off in the weeds for a little while. I probably could've done this all more efficiently, but I was amazed at how much the wetsuit helped me as a skinny dude who's perpetually sinking when I swim. The water was cold, but at the time, it felt pretty good. My legs cramped up a little part of the way through, but I managed to drag 'em along ok 'till they felt better. No problem. I emerged from the water at 1:28:01... for me, that's an incredible swim time. The wetsuit really did make it easier.

It wasn't 'till I hopped out after 2.4 miles that I was like, "OMG... I'm totally freezing." Joe Galope stripped my wetsuit... how cool is that? It's always nice to see a friendly face along the course. (Earlier that morning, I also ran into Sandra, working the transition bags again. She helped me find a replacement day clothes bag for the one I forgot at home that morning.)

I took about 15 minutes at the first transition to warm up and change into bike clothes. The people who are serious about this stuff, they just do the race in one outfit. Me... I wanted to be comfortable. I knew I was going to out there peddling away for a long time.

I headed out towards the Beeline, feeling pretty shaken up. My toes were frozen and didn't unthaw until I hit the turnaround at Shea. That first leg out was pretty bleak -- the wind was strong, fighting my efforts to get up the hill at every turn. I proceeded pretty carefully. Ironman is full of rules and the last thing I wanted was to incur a drafting penalty. (They literally have a penalty box.)

Of course, the existence of a drafting penalty means that you really can't chat with the other folks you're riding with, since you have to leave a fair amount of space between you. Certainly, as a guy who likes to shoot the shit with other athletes to help pass the time, that was strange for me... but I settled into the groove soon enough. I actually sped up throughout the ride, once I got progressively more comfortable on the bike and started to develop a strategy: find someone who seems fast and follow at a reasonable distance. Let them do all the hard work of navigating, keep your head down, and keep moving forward. It was really nice to do a ride out there and not have to worry at all about traffic.

I certainly feel like I bonded with my bike. Her name is Amelia. I'm also now aware of just how much faster some people bike than me. Who knew?

The bike portion took 6:45:34. It all went really smoothly; no flat tires, no major problems. I ate a ton of bananas, barely touched my special needs bag, except to refill the Perpetuem on the second loop. Although I saw it a few times, I couldn't bring myself to pee in my bike shorts, so I stopped fairly regularly to properly relieve myself. Towards the end of the ride, I followed the advice some random guy at one of the Tribe rides and spent a fair amount of time standing up in the saddle, just to get my legs ready for the marathon. I had no intention of hitting the ground running, but I wanted to get prepared. I really hadn't done anything in terms of BRICKs, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

I got in and out of the run transition fairly quickly. I took about 10 minutes to change into running clothes, put on my shoes / socks, fill up my water bottle, and gather my wits. I kicked it in classic trail runner style -- number, folded up on my shorts, Ultimate Direction bottle in hand, and MT 100's on my feet. At this point, I was still feeling pretty good... still, with an entire marathon left to go, it seemed like it was still going to be a long haul to the end.

"After all that, I agreed to do what? Run a marathon?"

I took it pretty easy. My total run time was 4:23:18, but my splits are kind of hilarious. I just kept getting slower and slower until the last 10k, when I picked it back up. It's kind of fun, doing all this stuff totally on my home turf -- "I live just on the other side of Papago Park!" I told everyone who would listen -- but doing loop after loop around Tempe Town Lake got old fast. The course is surprisingly difficult. I mean, not really, but it has actual hills in it, unlike the PF Chang's Marathon. After the first loop, I settled into a groove of walking all the uphills and stopping at every other aid station for Coke and Soup. I was very careful to stay on top of my nutrition for this entire race and I think that paid off.

Cruising repeatedly through the little IronMan village under the Mill Bridge was a fantastic experience. It reminded a little of the NYC Marathon; big crowds crushing in from either side, tons of cheering and support. It helped a lot. I didn't bother at all with my special needs bag.

Finally, I saw mile 25 and it was on. Now, this may be my finest moment in sports thus far because I really turned on the heat. I don't know how fast I ran that last little bit -- probably sub-7:00 -- but I must've passed like 100 people during the last chunk. If I'd known I was so close to the 13 hour mark, I would've busted that out a little earlier, but it didn't really matter at all to me at that point. It's awesome what a small world it is, though -- I was taunting some random Tribe dude during my epic last mile since I figured he was local, trying to get him to run with me, and it turned out to be Aaron Berkowitz. (We didn't recognize each other at all...) In your face!

Here's a crazy stat for you -- I started the run in 1972th place, finished it ranked 1416. That is to say, I took out 556 people during the marathon. That's... uhhh... something, right?

I hope I can find video of my finish. I ran through the chute, slapping the hands of everyone along the way there... just felt really great to have that done with.

One of the cool things about this race is that, at the finish line, you're actually met by a volunteer who is assigned solely to making sure you, personally, are ok. It's pretty awesome... never had that in a race before. It's a classy touch...

... and it really goes to how important and amazing all the volunteers were for this event. You guys were incredible! Thank you so much!

All in all, this was super fun. Glad I did it... don't know if I ever want to do it again. Of course, some part of me is like, "There's no reason I couldn't shave 30 mins off my run and an hour off my bike and turn in an amazing performance," but I certainly wasn't moved to immediately sign up for next year's race. My body doesn't appear to have suffered any permanent damage, but I'll be sore for the next few days. Certainly, I'll keep biking and swimming as cross training and if the right race comes along, I might be moved to do it.

After doing a hundred mile race, a lot of people have asked me about the relative toughness of the IM vs an ultra... and I don't really know what the answer is. Training for the IM was extremely time consuming. -- I don't know how anyone with actual responsibilities gets it done. At the high point of my training cycle over the summer, I was waking up every morning to run, going to work, and coming home to swim or bike every night. It felt weird to only do one workout a day. On the weekends, I was alternating between long runs and long rides.

Once you get in the training, IM wasn't too bad. I guess that's how it works, right? Still, though, one can only imagine the effort it must take to get really good at all those disciplines. I had breakfast this morning with a bunch of local badasses including Paul and Linda, both in the top five for their age groups. I've gotta say -- those guys are in ridiculously good shape and must be incredibly focused in their training. (Cheryl Miller's crew really tore it up out there!)

So, obviously, something like the Javelina Jundred is a much harder race in some sense -- it took me 15 hours longer -- but there's a real art to doing a fast tri. Props to everyone out there who beat me!

It's funny, though, how different the ultras are than a tri like this. With almost 2,500 people starting, this was a huge race. The logistics are mindbending to think about. Given its size, it's weird what a quiet race this is in a lot of ways. Participants don't really talk to each other the way people do in running races... but it was kind of peaceful, shuffling along in silence. The funniest story I heard from the race was from Dr. Ora, who witnessed some guy peeing in the penalty tent. He was DQ'd.

I just wanted to take a moment to thank all the people who helped me get ready for this race. I know IM folks have a reputation as bunch of jerks, but I found everyone to be really cool and supportive. Thanks!

100 Miles in the Desert -- Javelina Jundred Race Report

2009-11-05T00:00:00Z

I ran 100 miles! It took 28:20.

Holy crap... right? I mean... that's a really long way to run. When I tell people that I ran the Javelina Jundred on Halloween, they're generally like, "WTF?"

... at least that's the reaction of the people that don't know me. The folks who do know me, they know I've been hard at work, training for this thing. But that's not to say that skeptics don't have a point.

I mean... there's really no good reason to run 100 miles. It's not about health, that's for sure -- it's hard to explain. For whatever reason, it's just one of those dumb things I've wanted to do ever since I found out it was possible.

... and yeah. Obviously, I've been hard at work. For months and months and months, my life has been: wake up, run, go to work, swim or bike, sleep, repeat... pretty much endlessly. This has taken something a toll on my regular social life, but I've fallen in with a cool crowd of athletes from around the valley. Training... it hasn't really been a chore or a bore at all; to the contrary, I've had a blast. Every weekend has been an adventure.

I guess I've been really lucky like that.

This race, though, was all about revenge for my failure to complete the Vermont 100 back in July.... and I think we can all agree that "revenge" is the second best reason to do anything. (The first, is, of course... women... and you know I do it all for the ladies *cough* *cough*)

Having learned a ton from my first DNF, I was way better prepared this time out. I was certainly trained better. Besides my normal base of 50-60 miles/week running, all that swimming really hardened my core. The biking has just been fun, a nice, low impact way to see the far reaches of the Valley. In pretty quick succession leading up the race, I did a rim to rim to rim in the Grand Canyon, paced my pal Dr. Ora into a Boston Qualifier in the PDX Marathon, and ran Honey and Debbie's crazy 18 miler up in the Mazatzals.

In terms of strategery, I was on way better footing as well. Not only do I know the Pemberton trail really well, having run out there a million times, I had a much better sense of what my body needs in terms of nutrition and water and salt and whatnot. The central tenant of my plan was simple, though: grow a beard, let my hair get long, and channel my inner mountain man self into a long, slow run through the desert.

This time, I was ready.

The festivities kicked off in earnest with a dinner at PF Chang's Mesa hosted by the legendary / infamous Caballo Blanco, "The White Horse" of "Born to Run" Fame. He showed a race video and whatnot... and also had the chance to meet Fireman Scott and Sarah aka Rainbow Brite aka the other Jewish girl who does this crazy stuff who isn't Dr. Ora. Obviously, that girl is pretty rad... and it's always a pleasure to meet other likeminded Jews. There are a handful of us who do endurance sports and whatnot, but not that many. We should start a Facebook group or a secret sub-cult or something....

Friday night, I joined them again out in Fountain Hills for dinner. We were also joined by The Vogels, a nice couple out of Virginia, both of whom do a variety of distance races. I ended up staying out at the Fort McDowell Radison since it was closer to the course and meant I didn't have to go all the way home to Tempe then back into the heart of Fountain Hills. Cheap... surprisingly classy. I'd totally stay there again. I wanted to eat their bath soap.

Saturday, I began my weekend like I always do: got up at 3:30 in the morning, thew on my Jesus costume, and went to Starbucks to grab a pre-race mocha. Obviously, people were pretty excited to see their savior at 4:45 in the morning. (It turns out, when you're a Jewish dude with a beard and long hair who generally wears sandals, all you need is a white robe and a red sash and you're in business...)

Before I really knew what was happening, it was 6:00 am... race time!

I've gotta say, the race itself is totally a blur. I'll try my best to recount what happened during that 28 hours out in the desert, but due to the endless repetition of the course and the general toll this kind of thing takes on your brain, it's hard for me to say with certainty when things really went down. I should also say here that I didn't actually run in costume... I just went to the start like that. (I ran in all black, my attempt to be the Johnny Cash of ultramarathons.)

Lap one was easy. I've run out there a billion times... banged it out in around 3:00. That seemed a little fast to me at the time, but not too crazy, given my PR out there at 50k (2 loops) is 4:22 and it was perfect running weather and still really early in the race. That the thing about the Pemberton trail, though -- because it's so runnable, it sucks you in and, if you're not careful, will totally destroy you. I didn't even really stop at the aid stations.

Lap two was about the same. Took it easy... chatted with folks. One of the rad things about the format of this race -- you run around the 15.4 mile loop one way, then reverse directions and go back the other -- is that you see everyone on the course, from fastest to slowest. At this point, everyone was friendly, having fun. It was still a nice, cool, AZ morning. Towards the end of the loop, Dr. Ora joined me for a few miles and we chatted with a woman who's name totally escapes me, but she puts on races up in the Gorge by Portland. From my experience at the VT100, I'd learned that it pays to take care of foot issues earlier than later. After the the second loop, I stopped at the start / finish area for awhile and had Kachina Rescue tape up my feet and to eat a bunch of soup. Can't say enough nice things about those guys -- they're all volunteers and without them, I'm pretty sure I'd have been in real trouble. My socks were filled with dirt, so I changed 'em.

Lap three it started to heat up. I tagged along with Tricia, an aspiring Badwater runner, and Craig, some nut who's done every major crazy endurance challenge short of Barkley. He successfully defended Across the Years, a 24/48/72 hour race out in the West Valley where you run endlessly around a 300m track. I was skeptical, but his explanation made sense -- where else can you really experiment with different distance running techniques? If you want to try something new you just give it a shot... and if it doesn't work, stop for a little while, recover, and get back after it. Makes sense, right? Since it was quite warm, I took it nice 'n' slow... I pretty much powerwalked everything, mixing it up with a nice slow jog once in awhile. This, also, was Craig's suggestion... and also a good one. Running, he said, uses different muscles than walking, so the best way to avoid fatigue is to alternate.

Lap four I was still feeling good. This round, I grabbed a headlamp and headed back out. It wasn't dark yet, but I was slowing down. When I started, I'd already been out there for 14 hours, but I felt fine... especially after a nice long break at the aid station for a sock switch and a toe retaping session. It was during this time that Dave James finished in 14:20... amazing! I was like, "Awww man... I've still got 40 miles left to run!"

I was actually going a little faster than a 24 hour pace, so I knew I'd have to slow it down, but I wasn't sure how. While talking to a guy dressed as a fox, he was telling me that he'd been researching 24 hour races and was doing a run 25/walk 5 strategy, regardless of terrain. I didn't have a watch, so that wasn't really an option for me, but it worked out great for him -- I ended up seeing him finish right around 24 hours as I was headed out on my final mini loop. The sun set dramatically over the desert to the west and I kept moving, feeling good but without a particular plan as to how to proceed. On the way out, I ran for a bit with a very healthy looking coyote.

Lap five I roamed the desert alone in the middle of the night. Since it was so bright with the full moon, I didn't really need a headlamp, except for the occasional steep downhill. The pack had thinned considerably at this point, so I'd only occasionally run into other people. I pretty much walked the whole thing... it took me five hours. The most surreal moment of the race was hearing a party off in the neighborhood adjoining the park on the north side and not knowing if it was a real thing or noise from the aid station or just some weird hallucination. I actually asked some other runners if they'd heard it, too... and they had. It was real. Also real -- running into Sean Pfunder pacing Casey O'Connor somewhere out there in the wasteland. Casey took the honorable dropout at 100k... as did Fireman John, Fireman Scott, and Rainbow Brite... but all of them pretty much kicked ass out there.

Lap six I picked up my pacer, Robin. She's been my training buddy pretty much all summer and I don't know what I'd do without her. Honestly, I didn't even really think I needed a pacer... 'cuz, I mean, what's the worst that could happen out on the Pemberton trail? Man, we saw it all that night... people suffering breakdowns, running zombies, people who suddenly got huge surges of energy to push forwards... it was amazing. I had no idea that I could get that tired. At one point, I kind of started hallucinating. The moon had gone down so we were using a headlamp and I just couldn't focus on the light anymore... I just wanted to lay down and sleep. Weirdly enough, though, I popped a couple of pretzels into my mouth and everything snapped back in to focus. Without my pacer, though, I probably would have wandered off into the desert.

The 92 mark came as a relief, just as the sun came up. It just seemed like all the hills were getting taller, the aid stations further apart. The fact that it took me about 3:25 to get through the last 10 miles of the course, that really says a lot, right? I was a mess... definitely not the worst one out there -- I was still in a good mood, although extremely whiny -- but I did get passed by Karsten Solheim.... and that guy is 72 years old! (And, obviously, kind of a local badass...) "This time experience beats youth!" I yelled. Sportingly, he did say, "You know... there is something you can do about it..."

... but, really, there wasn't. It was a death march. I mean... I knew I would make it, but it was really uncool of Jamil the RD to keep moving those aid stations. I cursed him and everyone else under my breath. We saw Lane out there, running along, actually looking pretty strong. We also ran across Tricia, all messed up from going out too fast at an early part of the race. She finished... but she looked, literally like a zombie when we saw her. She barely acknowledged us as a we passed... just kind of mumbled something in response. We also saw some dude laying in the middle of the desert. What's the right thing to do in that situation? I asked him if he was ok and he was like, "Leave me alone! I'm napping!" Uhh... ok....

Eventually, a pack of three mountain bikers came barelling up and they were like, "Roig?"

... At first, I was a little stunned, partially because I'd just travelled 95 miles through two sunrises, but particularly because everyone had been calling me "Jesus" all day. It turned out to be Cheryl, Dr. Ora's tri coach rolling with her crew, out for a normal mountain bike workout on Pemberton. Very odd. They'd been dispatched to check in on me and seemed satisfied that I was in good hands. How nice is that?

That aid station was so awesome to finally see. From there it was just a slow slow slow ouch ouch ouch ouch hike back to the finish and, after 101.4 miles and 28:20:25, I was done.

At the finish line, someone was like "Run it in!" Really, who would I be kidding after taking so long?

Obviously, this was really a remarkable thing to get to do. I still kinda can't believe I ran 100 miles. Totally ridiculous.

Post-race damage is pretty minimal, considering. My right little toe is horrible, but in general, the New Balance MT100's worked out really well on that trail. Part of me seriously wonders if I should have switched to Chaco's in the last 10. It might've actually helped.... as might have gaiters, for that matter. The Kachina Rescue folks told me that they see a lot less foot damage in people who wear them; on a dusty course like that, I think it's probably a great idea if you're gonna be out there for awhile.

I weighed myself at the kennel when I went to pick up my dog. Incredibly, I weighed more or less the same as I started... but I think that's because I did a really good job with nutrition. Every lap, I would begin by filling my bottle up with Perpetuem and water. After the third lap, I did this: perpetuem at the start / finish, gatorade at the first aid station, water at the final aid station. I popped occasional SCaps as I've started to get a better feel for how those should be used, plus I ate a ton of soup and watermelon. I drank an ocean of Coke, too... love that stuff. It's no substitute for real food, I feel like it's perfectly engineered to give you quick calories your body can digest. I also ate a bunch of that Gu Rocktane and some of those Powergel things. I mostly laid off that, though.

It's hard to say what, if anything, I've learned from all this except that people are really awesome. This type of event wouldn't have happened without a ton of hard work on the part of Jamil, Nick and the Coury family, as well as all the amazing volunteers. If you read this, thank you so much!

Props to everyone who got out there and gave the Javelina Jundred a shot this year. Dunno if I'll ever run that thing again, but I'll certainly be lurking around in some capacity, either pacing or volunteering or whatever.

Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim Adventure Report

2009-09-30T00:00:00Z

They call me the Axe Murderer.

Ironically, it has nothing to do with all the people I've murdered with axes. Or hatchets.

... I guess, when you roll with the Firefighters, you pretty much get a nickname. As the sole guy who wasn't a firefighter on our last expedition into the Canyon three years ago, I guess I'd earned that title in absentia -- they'd been joking in the car that the random dude Rayne met on the Internet would probably turn out to be a homicidal maniac.

Needless to say, the trail running beard hasn't done anything to sway people to a new nickname.

I love it when stuff comes full circle. It was three years ago that I got inducted in the the world of real trail running on my first r2r2r in the Grand Canyon. It was brutal stuff, my first time venturing past 26.2 miles and definitely my first time doing those kinds of climbs.

Needless to say, it destroyed me. So, naturally, I was curious how I'd fare, all these years later. I've put a ridiculous amount of time in on the trails since then... but I've gotta say, that first r2r2r crossing I did really changed my life. For the better, I think. It was like two weeks later that I did my first trail race up in the Mazatzals and got, like, totally destroyed by Jenn Shelton. Needless to say, I was hooked. The chatty bald dude who just barely edged me out at the end of that race turned out to be Chris McDougall, researching the book that would become, "Born to Run."

The folks who do these things are so rad.

So, when Rayne hit me up and asked if I wanted to join them for another trip into the Canyon, well, duh. Of course. What could be more fun than that?

At the beginning, there were five: me, Rayne, Fireman John, Ricky, and Zack.

Rayne is the most experienced Grand Canyoneer out of us, probably, with like six trips. He's a firefighter. Fireman John is doing the Javelina Jundred, same as me... that will be his first ultra. Ricky is a schoolteacher and did a double IronMan awhile ago, which is kind of insane. Actually, really insane... and it's exactly what you'd think -- it's the same as a regular IronMan, except the distances of the swim, bike, and run are all double. And you do the run on like a one mile loop... or something. Zack is a recent U of A grad, not a super hardcore runner, just some guy out for a little adventure.

We began our descent at 6:00 pm on the Bright Angel trail just as the sun was going down. Rayne set a pretty good pace and Bright Angel, at least down to Indian Gardens, was pretty much what you'd expect: well maintained, rocky, pretty steep but not too bad. It seemed like we reached IG in no time. From there, it's just more descent -- we ran into a bunch of other groups also doing a r2r2r, including some pretty happy looking Canucks who looked like they'd been beaten to hell, hiking in the Canyon all day.

I'm not sure how warm it got at Phantom Ranch on Saturday, but when we rolled up several hours after the sun went down, it was like 80 degrees.

At first it seems a little crazy, doing as much as possible of the r2r2r hike at night, but the Canyon is a pretty unique place. You have to time it just right so it's not exceptionally cold on the rims, but not too hot in the Canyon itself. Even within the Canyon, you get pretty extreme temperature variations. I mean, to some extent, us desert dwellers are used to those kinds of high temps, but really, I think we just learn to avoid them.

Phanton Ranch to Cottonwood is relaxed and mellow, but it seems a lot longer than the 8 mile distance implies. Lots of little undulation, of course, but nothing too technical. With the headlamp on, you just kinda settle into fast hike mode and start going.

That climb up the North Rim in the dark was probably one of the most intense things I've ever done in my life. The trails are pretty narrow and the drops off the edge of the trail are incredibly severe. In the light, It's scary, but in the dark, it's kind of terrifying... plus, the temp dropped about 50 degrees -- in the canyon itself, it was like 80 and calm. At the top of the North Rim, it was 30 and windy.

Fireman John and I spent about 30 seconds up there before bailing and heading down. The other three boys had the good sense not to do that climb, but since FJ and I are training for the Javelina Jundred, we pretty much to get this done to properly prepare. I think. At least that's what I told myself at the time. He did great -- like, really great -- and I bet he'll be really happy he did it in a few days, when he's recovered.

After that, smooth sailing. It's a strange thing, hiking all night... when the sun comes up, it's totally reinvigorating. It's like that whole crazy climb was just a weird nightmare and it's time to wake up and do your morning run. At dawn, I ran from Cottonwood to Phantom Ranch and had the Canyon totally to myself for miles... it was just unbelievable.

I made it to Phantom Ranch about 8 hours after I'd left it, right around 7:00 in the morning. I think. I found Rayne, shot the shit, ate some beef jerky, and sat around for maybe 30 mins. Rayne had gotten some rest and was looking good, ready to get the heck out of there.

Three quarters of the way through this adventure, I was feeling just fine. Sure, I was a little sore and stiff and another 5,000 ft climb sat in between the Ranch and the Bright Angel trail head, but I knew I'd make it no problem. That is a very good feeling.

I pushed myself as hard as I could on the climb out. Each rim climb is a full vertical mile, so that kinda sucked... but I raced some crazy Canadian and made pretty good time. I love the folks who hike the trails here in AZ -- good people. Plus, much to my surprise, my pal Robin was waiting at Indian Gardens, just chilling and chatting with the people passing through. She braught Fanta. We did the remaining 4.5 mile climb out together -- it was nice to have a buddy. I don't really have a watch or anything, but I think the entire PR to BA portion took around 4 hours and some change.

At the end, I was covered in dust. The whole Rim to Rim to Rim trip took 17:30 or so, but it was one of the best things I've ever done. It's theoretically possible that I could have done it faster, but I'd much rather have fun hiking with cool people than push myself for no reason. Besides, I needed time on my feet -- this was, after all, a training run for JJ.

At the top, Ricky and Zack spotted me and we grabbed some breakfast / beer. Yum. Then I went and slept in Robin's tent for awhile, cried and moaned. Mather Campground has public showers and they work just fine.

As far as I'm concerned, this whole thing went down flawlessly. As a group, we had some logistical challenges, but it all came out ok. Just a really great time.

Oddest moment? Our first trip through Phantom Ranch was like something out of an indie movie: as we roll up, off to the side in the "Employees Only" area they've got a fire going and someone is performing a Radiohead song on an acoustic guitar. Behind one of the buildings, we stumbled on some random worker smoking a joint. He didn't seem too disturbed by getting spotted by a bunch of runners wandering through in the middle of the night. Also, on our climb up North Kaibab we ran into two other runners who told us, "If you see a cat, try and pick it up." At the time that seemed pretty normal. I was looking for a cat, but I didn't see one.

The absolute weirdest thing, though, was realizing that I felt a hundred percent fine after doing that climb up the North Rim. The last time I did it, I was pretty sure I was going to die -- if the physical effort of climbing didn't kill me, I was positive I'd fall off a cliff into the endless pit of darkness. This time, no problem. At all. I've learned to pace myself well and have enough confidence in my trail skills to know that I'll be fine if I huge the very inner wall of the trail at all times. Turns out, practice and experience really helps... who knew?

Here's what I brought along:

Adidas Compression shorts. They're like regular running shorts but with built in bike shorts. Especially when it's cold and there's a lot of climbing, I feel like it helps.
Roadrunner Sports sleeveless shirt. I might wear that thing too much these days, but it's really comfortable. I've actually had really good luck with the store brand stuff RRS puts on clearance.
Brooks Cascadias. My pair is getting kind of old and I'm not 100% happy with the fit, but those things are great for rocky terrain and long distances. They are a little clunky, though...
Petzl Tikka XP headlamp. Pretty much just a headlamp... works about as well as it needs to. I love this generation of LED lights.
Backup flashlight. You know... just in case. This one has a nice, bright spotlight. Actually really was nice to have on the decent down North Kaibab so I could see some of the stuff beyond the protective bubble of my headlamp.
Smartwool PhD socks. I like the brand and they were clearing these out at REI one day, but it's not like I have any great love for this particular pair.
Glasses. I wear contacts, so I wanted to make sure the whole canyon wouldn't turn into an abstract blur if I lost a lens.
Gloves. A couple of years ago I ended up with a pair of my Mom's old running gloves. Not super heavy, but they've got some extra grip on the fingers to make 'em nimble.
Wool hat. I'm a skinny dude... I get cold easily. I was so glad I had this.
Running hat. Although I did my ascent up Bright Angel fairly early in the morning, it was pretty bright 'n' sunny. Glad I had a hat. I rocked my Tahoe Rim Trail 50 Miler hat for this one, but it's basically the same Coolmax thing you get anywhere.
Native Sunglasses. I live in the desert -- I never go anywhere without sunglasses perched on my head. Plus, they keep my hair from getting too crazy.
2 long sleeve running shirts. One was picked up at REI as we headed north, it's just your standard long sleeve running shirt with a zipper. Robin was kind enough to lend me another extra shirt as insurance, since I decided to ditch the relatively heavy fleece.
15 Endurolytes. There's some debate as to whether they really have enough sodium and I don't know what the answer is to that. They seem to work ok, but I don't have strong feelings about 'em one way or another.
Spare batteries. Just for the headlamp... the other flashlight was a backup anyway...
Ultimate Direction Water Bottle. Gawd, I love these bottles. I used my UD bottle this time as a vessel for Perpetuem.
A couple of bucks. Just in case I ended up at Phantom Ranch during store hours. A nice cold Coke makes a lot of things better.
Handy wipes. Pretty versatile, it seems like these things are useful in all kinds of situations.
Camelbak MULE. I know I've said it before, but if it were legal for me to marry my Camelbak, I probably would. This one isn't huge, but with a max 100oz reservoir, it's pretty flexible. Plus, it's set up nicely for the cargo one needs for a r2r2r.
4500 calories of food. Here's the breakdown:
- 10 GUs
- 2 Mojo bars
- 5 packs of Powerbar Powergels
- 7 servings of Perpetuem
- 2 packs of beef jerky
- 3 packs of Cliff Shots

I returned to the South Rim with 5 gus, 3 powergel packs, a mojo bar, almost all the beef jerky, and one bag of Perpetuem. I could have easily dropped 1000 calories and been just fine and probably consumed more like 2500 calories total.

The Perpetuem worked really well for me. I kept the Camelbak as kind of a reserve tank with around 40oz of water and the UD bottle filled with a two scoop mix of perpetuem. If anyone can suggest a good way to handle that powder, I'd love to hear it -- my individual serving in a bag idea works ok, but it's kind of sloppy.

GU... obviously that stuff is pretty standard. I busted out the Rocktane for this one just because I've come to believe that it holds mystical powers, but I alternated between that and the Orange Burst flavor. Yum!

Just wanted to finish this off with a special thanks to my pal, Robin, who totally helped me out with this crazy thing. If she hadn't driven back, I'd probably still be asleep somewhere in the Grand Canyon parking lot.

Oh... and one final thing: we got free admission into the park on Saturday since it was National Parks Day. How awesome is that?

The Jon Roig 5769 Annual Report

2009-09-21T00:00:00Z

5769... undeniably a weird friggin' year. In a good way.

I've decided to try something different this year, an annual report of sorts. I was thinking about it while climbing Camelback this evening, looking back at all the crazy adventures I've had in the last 365 days and thinking about my poor, neglected blog. I decided that I should try and make some sense of it all, if only so I can look back at in my later years and go, "What the heck were you thinking?"

In a general sense, things just seem to keep getting better and better. It's kind of remarkable, actually... so much so that it's gonna be hard to top this in 5770.

That's not to say there hasn't been some ups and downs along the way -- I did, after all, begin the year by falling off a cliff on Camelback the weekend before Man Against Horse, dislocating my shoulder and consigning me to a sling for several months.

Now, that didn't necessarily stop me from running -- I got a waist leash for my dog and still took to the streets, much to the amusement of my neighbors. Rehab for that thing was a bitch, though... those PT people are evil torturers, but I've gotta say, they did a pretty good job. When I started training for the Ironman -- I committed to it way back in November -- I wasn't a hundred percent sure I'd have a full enough range of motion in my arm to swim effectively.

We'll see... I spent the last few months training in the pool and it's kind of incredible, the effect that's had on my core strength. I just feel really solid, it's tough to describe. I'm doing like 12 solid workouts a week (with two in the three+ hour range), so despite the fact that I DNF'd at the Vermont 100, I am literally in the best shape of my life. I'm kind of amazed at how casually I can throw down with a marathon or 50k... I mean, this year, I qualified for the Boston Marathon with a 3:06 at P.F. Chang's, ran a 1:25 half marathon, took first in my age group at the Pemberton 50k, and did Zane Grey in 12:30, an hour and a half faster than I did the year before.

Holy cow! Dunno if I'll be able to do that again... but that's not to say I didn't use my time off from competition well at the beginning of the year: I volunteered at a whole bunch of races, including working the transition area at the IronMan, manning a remote aid station in the middle of the night at the Javelina Jundred, helping with registration 'n' stuff at a couple 10k's, and marking a chunk of the trail for Zane Grey... Turns out, it's actually really fun to help out with these things. Looking forward to doing more of that next year...

My new job kicks ass. About a year ago, I took a new gig with GoDaddy working on the Webmail team, our version of Hotmail or Gmail or whatever. It's been great -- I have really cool, smart coworkers, the work is pretty interesting, and I'm learning a ton every day. I began the year as a PHP programmer who dabbled in Javascript, now it's pretty much flipped. All day long, I code in Javascript... the ever changing landscape and scope of the language makes it really cutting edge and the potential grows constantly. The browser differences are kind of strange, but with each release, they come closer to behaving reliably similar. Of course, it's a little odd working in a cube amidst a sea of cubes, but I like it. It's a fantastic place to practice my craft.

Let's recount some of the random places I found myself this year: watched Lil' Wayne / T-Pain at America West from really amazingly seats, ran drunkenly down the streets of downtown Phoenix dressed as a scientist and pushing a shopping cart modified into a space shuttle during the Idiotarod, got shepherded into some of the exclusive Las Vegas clubs with a Playboy makeup artist, slept under the stars in the forest in Northern Arizona, caught an amazing freak show with the best six foot Amazon transvestite hula hoop dancer I've ever seen, spent a few days camping in one of the most remote settlements in the continental USA, Havasupai. I saw friggin' Sinbad perform.

The highlight was, undoubtedly, the single Downhill from Piedmont show, my now defunct punk band. We were truly terrible. You have to write about the things you know, so we did songs about girls doing heroin in squats, doing beer runs, fighting in the streets with other gangs. You know, we were just keeping it real, talking about the Suiciety. (That's, like, "suicide" and "society" combined, man...) Obviously, I had no business being a frontman for something like that, but it was super fun. The.. uhh... talented members of the band have continued on as AP Calculus and I expect nothing but greatness from those boys.

Of course, none of this would have been possible without all my old pals and all the awesome people I've met over the last year. I hope ya'll know how amazing you've been. Thanks!

There was a great This American Life on the other day about "frenemies," and that kind of got me thinking.. someone once said that to be successful in life, you have to acquire both an arch enemy and a nemesis. Humans are competitive; you need that animosity to drive you forward. What's the difference? According to Chuck Klosterman, "You kind of like your nemesis, despite the fact that you despise him. You will always have drinks with your nemesis. You would attend the funeral of your nemesis and -- privately -- you might shed a tear over his or her passing. However, you would never choose to have a cocktail with your archenemy, unless you were attempting to spike the gin with arsenic."

This year, I'm happy to say that I met a really great nemesis. Like, a classic one. Dunno if you'll read this, but you know who you are... and I just wanted to thank you for being so horrible. In a weird way, I kind of needed that... and I'm certainly looking forward to giving you the finger the next time we run into each other. Still need to find the right arch enemy, though, so I'm totally taking applications. Despite the radio reminder, the frenemy position remains unfilled as well.

My pets, Gus and Soleil, have been great. I've had that darned cat since I was a Junior in college, and Soleil is still going strong, all these years later. And Gus, that dog is rad. He's been a fantastic running buddy and now, at age five, is finally starting to calm down. I created a twitter account for him: @thegusdog. I wanna make it clear, that I will not be posting updates on his behalf. I just think it's funny that I can reference him that way.

He's stopped sleeping at the end of the bed, though. Who will protect me from ghosts and apparitions? The cat? I don't think so...

Now, let's be clear -- I haven't had much of a poltergeist problem so far, but one can never be too careful. I am feeling pretty secure and grounded in my home, though, having lived in the same place now for over five years. That's the longest I've lived anywhere since I was a little kid. I've gotten to know a lot of the various random people around the neighborhood and I, like, actually see people I know when I'm out and about. It's very exciting. It took me awhile, but I finally found a great neighborhood bar in Papago Brewery... essential.

So... in the end, that's kind of the state of things. I'm just really grateful for the last year and everyone who was a part of it. This isn't exactly where I would have pictured myself five years ago, but as my favorite philosopher, Donald Rumsfeld, once said, "I would not say that the future is necessarily less predictable than the past. I think the past was not predictable when it started."

Jon 0, Vermont 1 -- My Vermont 100 DNF Report

2009-07-20T00:00:00Z

... at what point does it seem like a good idea to run 100 miles?

Geez. I don't know. That run was madness. Probably one of the most fun things I've ever done.

I dropped out of the race after 77.1 miles.

... I know, right? After 19 hours of endless hills and mud, I just could not proceed any further. So, on one hand, I dropped out after 77.1 miles. On the other... holy crap! I ran 77.1 miles!

As I write this, I'm sitting on an airplane -- managed to snag the exit row, so I can stretch out a bit. Good thing, too... 'cuz, man, I am messed up. Not too bad -- don't get me wrong -- but I'm... uhh... having a little trouble walking.

The damage doesn't look like it'll be permanent and it's not like I can really be, "Geez? How did that happen?" My left leg is totally swollen beneath the knee. It's like 50/50 whether I'll lose my right toenail. The bottoms of my feet are covered in blisters.

Other than that, surprisingly, I feel just fine. I know that sounds crazy -- other than my legs and my feet it's all good -- but given all the terrible things than can go wrong with a run like this, I feel like I emerged relatively unscathed. If it wasn't for whatever horrible thing I did to my left calf, I bet I could have finished that thing, no problem.

I can't say enough good things about this race.

This is one of those events where the whole community gets involved. Literally everyone I encountered around the town seemed to be involved in the race somehow, just a total point of civic pride. Remember, this is VT, long-settled territory. It's not like The West, where we can traipse hundreds of miles through National / State parks. Putting on an event like this in New England requires the cooperation of dozens of land owners, not the mention the hundreds of volunteers.

So many nice people!

Whoever designed this thing, though, was a total sadist. That course was totally relentless... with 14,000 feet of climbing on jeep roads through the backwoods of Vermont, there were almost no flat parts -- it was all ups and downs. I can't imagine a better way to experience New England.

So... the race started at 4:00 am under a light drizzle. I quickly fell in with the crew I would tag along with for the next 70 miles. Our main group was me, Cheryl, a librarian from Brooklyn, and Shane, a college student with a serious desire to become a Navy SEAL. The race itself is a blur, but we cruised along at a comfortable pace together for hours and hours and hours, chatting, laughing, telling funny stories... People are meant to run with the herd. Other runners came and went throughout the race and occasionally we'd get passed by folks on horseback on horseback -- they actually do a horse race concurrently to this one. Everyone was totally friendly, encouraging each other on, talking about other races we've done and how we got ourselves into this crazy sport. Met a bunch of folks from twitter, obviously those guys are pretty cool. I'm so bad with names anyway and that race kinda fried my brain, so you'll have to forgive me if I can't really give everyone I met their proper props. Suffice to say, as far as I'm concerned, you guys are all pretty bad ass.

Vermont is just adorable. I mean, how can you not love covered bridges and trees and sprawling farms and big red barns? Totally cliched, but so awesome and peaceful. Temps only got into the mid 70's, so while it was a little more humid than us AZ residents are used to, it was very comfortable for running.

The miles just kind of peeled off as we found our rhythm. It's a weird thing to hit mile 50 and go, "Oh cool! I'm halfway done!"

The sun went down right before we hit mile 70. That's where things started to get kind of ugly. Stanley, a local kid who just graduated from high school, was my pacer assigned by the race folks. He hung on while I refueled and had the medical people pop my blisters. Super super nice guy -- he actually hung out all day -- sorry I wasn't able to drag him along the course for the next 30 miles.

We did give it a shot, though. As we headed off into the darkness following a trail of glowsticks through the endless hills in the woods (totally surreal!), I knew that things were getting progressively more dicey. Every step started to hurt... and not just in an ouch ouch ouch way of blistered feet. That I could have dealt with. Something more alarming was going on. I could barely walk.

When I reached the aid station at 77.1, I was done.

You know what? I've got no regrets about dropping out whatsoever. It wasn't a tough decision at all. I do this stuff for fun... and while I love the challenge, there's no way I'm going to totally hurt myself in some serious way just to complete a race. Not too many people can say they know the absolute limits of their endurance... but I know mine: 77.1 miles.

... at least on that particular type of surface under those conditions. All these races are different... even different year to year.

Lessons learned? Next time I do a race like this -- and there will be a next time -- I'm gonna recruit someone to be on my crew, especially if the weather is unpredictable. There was no reason for me to carry a rain jacket that I didn't need all the way to 40. Seemed like a good idea at the time since I couldn't get it again during the race if I dropped it, but that's an awful long way to carry a piece of gear like that. Plus, as far as supplies during the race went, with 30 aid stations, I really only needed a hand bottle and some pockets, not the full carrying capacity of the Camelbak.

Also, tend to blisters and stuff early. It's worth it to take the time to tape and repair. I'm convinced that the reason my leg is so trashed is that I changed my gait, trying to avoid further flesh wounds on my feet. Extra socks probably would have helped, since the course was pretty wet. I changed shoes at mile 30, but now I'm wondering if I should have stuck with the New Balance 790's instead of switching to the Brooks Cascadias, given the relatively mild terrain on the course. It's a lot different running in Vermont than AZ -- no rocks -- and I'm not convinced the Cascadias fit as well as they could. I guess that really matters.

Finally... I've gotta stop trying to rely on Gu and that kind of stuff -- it just gets to be too gross to eat those artificial sugars after more than about 12 hours. For the record, though, I didn't have any trouble with weigh ins... I kept popping Endurolytes, so I was able to compensate for the sweat / humidity, no problem. Next time, all pretzels! (Ummm... maybe.) I ate a ton of fresh fruit on the course and found that it really agreed with me. Watermelon, canteloupe... ym. PB 'n' J... not so much. I should probably look for a reliable source of protein... I guess that's why people like Perpetuem, right?

So... right. If you know me, you know I'm a glutton for this particular kind of punishment. This ultra running stuff is totally in my blood now. I've gotta battle my Mom in the Portland Marathon and a bunch of my idiot friends in the AZ IronMan, but then I'll be back on the hunt, looking for my next challenge.

I'm not sure if I'll do the Vermont 100 again, but it really is an amazing race, incredibly well organized and executed. The course was very well marked and the aid stations, well stocked. Thanks! I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it as a first hundred to anyone who really wants to find out what they're made of.

Before I wrap this up though, I just wanna give a shout out to the GAC ultra running crew, out of Boston -- I met 'em in the bar the night before the race. Totally awesome people. They were all over the course, cheering everyone on.

What a way to spend my birthday, eh?

Jon 2, Rocks 0 : A Zane Grey Race Report

2009-05-02T00:00:00Z

"That Zane Grey guy must've had a pretty good sense of humor," said David, as we closed in on, like, mile 40 of the Zane Grey 50. We'd been running together for hours and hours, it seemed like. Sometimes I'd break off, sometimes he would... but eventually we'd just end up cruising along at the same pace.

By now, the pattern had gotten pretty drilled into our heads. Climb climb climb... downhill really fast... take a right turn at the creek bed... repeat. Over and over and over again.

That race is a beast -- 50 miles over poorly maintained trail with 10,500 feet of climbing and aid stations positioned up to 11 miles apart. You're kinda roaming along the edge of the Mogollon Rim, out by Payson, so altitude is a factor.

Looking at my arms, even a few days later, I'm all scratched up from plunging through the Manzanita and other assorted scrubs out there. There were many, many trees to climb over and creeks to cross. Nothing too hairy... just a trail that -- almost literally -- delivers a death by a thousand cuts.

Then... there are the rocks. Endless fucking rocks.

There's some debate as to whether it's the toughest 50 miler in the USA -- the consensus seems to be that San Juan is harder due to altitude -- but that this one is plenty hard. No normal person, it was agreed, should try this. I'm not sure if everyone had to do this, but I had to submit a running resume of sorts to get entry into the race. (It might've just been because I signed up late, though...)

... and yet, I was back. This time, knowing pretty well what I was getting into, given that I'd helped mark the trail from miles 33-44 the weekend before the race.

So... preparation went pretty normally for this kinda thing -- lots of long runs out on South Mountain and Trail 100. I did a bunch of race-specific stuff, like wearing the 100-oz Camelback on a couple of the training runs leading up to ZG. Also, since I knew I was going to be encountering pretty heavy rocks 'n' whatnot, I switched back to the Brooks Cascadias from the New Balance 790's. As much as I love the 790's, I knew they'd get shredded out on the Highline Trail.

Nutrition was mostly Gu Rocktane and those Powerbar Gel blobs. Yum! (Kinda.) This actually worked pretty well, although it got a little gross after about 10 hours. My stomach was in pretty rough shape towards the end, but it seemed to do ok. I also gobbled an Endurolyte every hour or so.

The race itself, like last year, was pretty much a blur. Obviously, it's stunning out there, but it's such a "heads-down, watch the trail" kind of run that it's ridiculous. Almost none of it is flat; the constant undulation of the trail and shifting of terrain types as you move up and down the rims means that you pretty much always have to watch your footing if you want to move forward at a reasonable speed. Forget about settling into a comfortable rhythm.

That's not to say it's not fun. Over the last few years of doing these races, I've found that it's just way easier to hook up with another runner and just tag along with them. Sometimes, we'll get a little train going... it just seems to take less mental energy to run with other people than it does to slowly slog through endless trail by yourself. If you find the right person running the right pace at the right time, you can end up together for hours.

Obviously, you get to talking. About running... other races... the oral history of ultramarathoning... jobs... kids... wives... husbands...

Runners. Interesting people, lots of stories. If there's anyone who's really a jerk in the ultramarathon world, I have yet to meet them.

So, David and I -- another PHX area runner who I'm sure I've seen a billion times on South Mountain but never talked to -- cruised through the remaining miles without really seeing anyone else. Except one guy, who blasted by us at like mile 48, running at what seemed like top speed.

"Holy crap! Where'd you come from?"

"The Dead," he replied, not breaking his stride.

That's probably true. I certainly didn't have the energy to chase after him and find out more.

That last six miles from 44-50 is probably the longest 10k ever, but we ticked out the 15 minute miles like clockwork... up... down... up... down... 'till, finally, we started to hear car noises. It sounds slow, but given the terrain, it's actually pretty decent. We were running the flats and the downhills and quickly hiking the uphills. We'd survived the diabolical climb at like mile 46 and knew the end was close.

Let me tell ya something: reaching the end of a fifty mile ultramarathon is a pretty good feeling. Just seeing people again is a little weird after being out on the quiet trails for hours. The race organizers did a fantastic job -- they had race finisher hoodies at the ready and printed copies of photos taken at the beginning of the race to have them waiting for us right at the end. How awesome is that? I grabbed a Cherry Pepsi (maybe the best ever), got some pics snapped with my new buddy (did we really win Miss Congeniality?), and met up with Nicole, who was kind enough to crew for me... that was super cool. Thanks!

Five days later, I'm remarkably unhurt from all this. I got a little sunburned on my shoulders, but nothing serious. The cuts are all healing. I've gone running with the dog this week, and while it wasn't anything serious, mileage-wise, it felt just fine. Also, made my long awaited return to the pool... my first venture over there since I fell off that cliff.

Oh yeah... and get this -- I picked up 90 minutes over last year! How crazy is that? I finished 29th out of 76 finishers. 107 started... 71% finished.

I Won the Pemberton 50k! (Ok... just my age group)

2009-02-18T00:00:00Z

Pemberton... at some point, you pretty much have to run there, if you run in the valley. I encountered it pretty early as I got into trail running and found it... I don't know. A little boring?

Basically, it's a 15 mile loop through the middle of the desert, out kind of by Fountain Hills. It's a great straight-up athletic trail -- well groomed, easy to follow, very runnable -- but it's not, like, somewhere you'd really want to go hiking.

As I experimented with different trails and whatnot around the Valley, I ended up doing Pemberton a few times by myself, just out there on some warm mornings, slowly working my way through the undulating twists and turns. It seems to go on forever. There are always snakes. There are no vistas, nothing really one could call a high point.

So... it'd been awhile since I ran there. Time does wonders for one's memories of a trail. I volunteered during the Pemberton 50k last year, then again at the midnight to 8:00 am shift of the Javalina Jundred, so I was actually feeling pretty good about this race.

Of course, I signed up at the last minute, since I wasn't sure that was something I wanted to do. I mean, two loops around that thing. Ugh.

Still, it's an easy race to get to and it looked like fun last year, so, why not?

It was just a perfect morning for a run. It was 32 degrees before dawn as I rolled through Fountain Hills, maybe even colder out there in the desert. There was a fire to hang out by and keep warm.

About 200 people started the race... according the Race Director, the split was about 50-50 in terms of men vs. women.

I just had a really good run! I got off to a quicker start then I should have, but just kind of settled into a groove behind Honey Albrecht for awhile. There's something about running in packs... it just makes it easier. Plus, she's run that course about a billion times, I'm sure.

The whole thing went really smoothly. I was gobbling down the Gu that I stashed in the waistband of my shorts at a rate of about 1 ever thirty minutes. Since the race is two loops around the Pemberton Trail, I had a bunch of cliff shots stashed there for extra nutrition. At each aid station, I grabbed a fistful of those orange gel candies and kept moving. My Ultimate Direction bottle was more than enough water, for whatever reason.

It's a tough course... it lulls you in, being so runnable and all. Each loop is like 1,800 feet of climbing and descent, so it grinds you down over time. At no point, really, did I have to stop and walk to climb a hill or anything like that.

By the time of the second loop, I stripped off my long sleeve shirt and settled into a groove... I lost Honey at an aid station and just continued forward 'till I hit the next guy, then, the next guy after him.

I felt super strong in the last five, way better than I would have expected. Finished with a smile, although I think I ran head-on into the sign they had over the finish line.

Took sixth overall, first in my age group... only because the guy who won, Josh Brimhall, took the overall winner prize, and the other guys were masters. I received a water bottle for my efforts, which is pretty sweet. The official time was 4:22:17, an 8:27 pace... which for out there, isn't half bad.

So... obviously, I'm liking the Pemberton Trail a lot more now. Old Pueblo will largely be a repeat of this race -- same people, only tougher terrain.

Phoenix Idiotarod Race Report

2009-02-17T00:00:00Z

So, I roll up to the checkout at Target on the morning of the Phoenix Idiotarod with two packs of condoms, a half-dozen packages of pudding, and some funnels. Now, normally I don't feel much of an urge to explain myself when it comes to my purchases, but the woman at the counter was all like, "WTF?"

"Ummm.... we're doing a shopping cart race in downtown Phoenix," I explained. "These are the ingredients for a weapon. Last night, we took a shopping cart, stuck on a nose cone made of styrofoam, made some wings out of poster board, and turned it into a space shuttle."

The woman appeared to accept that as a reasonable explanation.

I can only imagine what all the other random bystanders thought, when they saw like twenty teams of shopping cart racers tear around downtown. It was total drunken mayhem...

The teams ran the range in terms of preparation, from elaborate to simple, but everyone was welcome. Amy, Brian, Sean, Jason and I -- my coworkers at GoDaddy -- called ourselves "Energy = Mass Confusion Squared." We had lab coats. And, of course, the space shuttle.

The morning started at the Bikini Lounge on Grand and kind of degenerated from there. I'm not really sure of the length of the race -- I don't even know who won -- but the course took us all around downtown with various bar stops along the way for drinking and socializing. At some point, the devil team chopped off our cart's handles, an act of revenge for splattering them with a pudding filled condom.

Sabotage is par for the course in the Idiotarod. You should really take a look at the pictures.

The rest... it's kind of a blur. I think we came in fifth... maybe sixth. It really doesn't matter -- that was just really fun.

My race schedule, 2009...

2009-01-24T00:00:00Z

Since I survived the first event of the year, the P.F. Chang's Marathon, it's time to take a look at what's coming up this year. There will probably be other, small races 'n' stuff, but these are the marquee events. 2009 should be pretty... interesting.

Pemberton 50k - February 14th. Maybe. We'll see. The more I think about it, I'll probably do this.
Ragnar Del Sol Relay - February 27-28. A team of twelve of us are running from Prescott to Mesa in a 200 mile road race over two days. We did it last year and it was awesome. This year will be super fun as well, I'm sure.
Old Pueblo 50 - March 7. I've been hearing out this race, which takes place down in Sonoita, for awhile. Sounds like it'll be pretty brutal, but pretty fun.
Boston Marathon - April 20. Maybe. I have to book my stuff in short order if I'm going to do this. I feel like I should do it, after all the training to qualify and whatnot, so I probably will.
Vermont 100 Endurance Run - July 18-19. Why not try and run 100 miles for my birthday? This race is pretty much the one people talk about as being the best first time 100 in the country.
IronMan Arizona - November 22. I know, I know... doing triathlons means selling out. Still, I'm curious to give this a try, if only to see how much I like racing on bikes. I'm just beginning to train for this in earnest so we'll see how that goes as the year progresses.