Washington, DC Area Ultramarathon Reviews

This year, I have run three ultramarathons in the Washington, DC area: the North Face Endurance Challenge 50-Mile (June 1, 2013); the Athletic Equation 12-hour Adventure Trail Run (September 21, 2013); and the Stone Mill 50 Mile (November 16, 2013).

Rather than writing up a blow-by-blow of each race in its entirety, I thought I'd suggest some of the pros and cons of each race for those who are looking to run 50 miles (or so) in the DC area next year.

The North Face Endurance Challenge 50-Mile

Pros

• Big Name.  The North Face Endurance Challenge is a big name race, as far as 50-milers go.  While local favorite Michael Wardian won the 2013 race, top competitors come from all over the country.  In addition to rubbing shoulders with the greats, you'll get treated to a lively sendoff and a serious finish line festival. 
• Scenery.  Every other photograph of race is of the short section that requires rock hopping high above the Potomac gorge, but frankly, the entire course is beautiful, which runs along the wide Potomac and then in the hills of Great Falls national park, is amazing.
• Swag.  The race costs $90 if you register on time, but it comes with some serious swag, including a high quality silkscreened technical shirt, socks, and a water bottle.  And, yes, a medal if you finish.
• Spectator Friendly.  There aren't many ultras that pass four times by a big grassy picnic area where your family and friends can chill out and have a good time.  This is one of them.  

Cons

• Course.  The first fifteen miles of this race is mostly flat, luring many runners into a marathon like pace.  They pay for it when they hit 20 miles of steep hills and gravelly fire roads and the aforementioned rock hopping.  The fact that three repetitive loops are required doesn't help.  Then, its 15 more miles to get back to the finish line.
• Weather.  To make sure that the Endurance Challenge lives up to its name, schedulers put it in early June, when the weather in Washington, DC is anything but great for running.  The weather can be above 90 degrees and humid, as it was in 2013, or it can be very rainy, creating a mud-fest like in 2012.  Don't be hoping to set any PRs.

The Athletic Equation 12-hour Adventure Trail Run

Pros

• Flexibility.  This could be a fifty mile race, but it doesn't have to be.  The goal is to run as many 6.5 mile loops as you can, in under 12 hours.  Some runners are here to rack up the miles, while others are happy to knock out a fast 20 mile and be home before noon.  So, decide what you want to do, and don't worry about anyone else.
• Ideal Weather.  While late September can occasionally get a little warm, this generally is the perfect time of the year to be running in a T-shirt and shorts.  
• Aid Stations.  The beginning/end of the 6.5 mile loop is a rollicking loop with music blaring and an ever changing array of food throughout the day.  (The pierogis, in particular, were awesome.)  If you have your own supplies, this means you can also hit your drop bag every 6.5 miles.  Midway through the course is a self-serve water stop, so you can run all day carrying just a single water bottle.  
• Spectator Friendly.  Your friends and family will basically end up tailgating in the parking lot, but they do get to see you come by every 6.5 miles.

Cons

• Value.  For $85, you get a pretty low-quality t-shirt.  You'll also get a pint beer glass if you finish.  I wouldn't call this race a bargain.
• Repetitive.  There's a lot to like about a 6.5 mile loop - the aid station, seeing your family and friends - but by the end of the day, they get pretty boring.  A couple miles of long straight fire in the middle of the loop don't help.

The Stone Mill 50 Mile

Pros

• Price.  Only $35 for a 50-miler?  That's unheard of.  I don't care that there's no swag.  At this price, sign me up.
• Course.  The course is essentially a lollipop, with 20 total miles of out-and-back, and a large 30-mile loop in the middle.  While you're not exactly out in the wilds, there is plenty of scenic natural beauty, and something new to see around every bend.  And if you want to set a PR, this is the place to do it.  The course is 99% non-technical, and mostly soft underfoot (except for a mile or two of suburban sidewalk.)  Lots of soft rolling hills (and one brutal hill at the end!) to keep different muscle groups engaged, while giving others a rest. 
• Aid Stations.  With 11 aid stations, you'll have a place to stop, on average, every 4.5 miles.  Sure, some are better stocked than others (and those that are well stocked are amazing with everything from hot soup to quesadillas to Knob Creek whisky), but regardless its nice to know there's always a friendly face and fresh water around the corner.  And the volunteers here were uniformly the best and most supportive of those at any of the three races.   
• Camaraderie.  Maybe its the low key nature of the race, but I just met a lot more cool, friendly runners here than during any other race.  

Cons

• The Basics.  Sure, the price is great.  But having only a single toilet for men at the start of the race meant a lot of runners were late to start.  Similarly, not having access to drop bags until mile 29 meant really loading up my pockets and hoping that I didn't need a change of socks.  This is a race that demands self-sufficiency.  
• Late Year.  Running late in November makes for cool weather, which is great, but legs can be tired from other races.  It also makes for icy streams (and I lost count of the number stream crossings.)  It also means that many of the runners had to finish in the dark.     

Of course, there are other 50-mile races in the area that I haven't yet run, most notably the Bull Run Run 50-miler, in April, and the JFK 50-Mile in November, which is the granddaddy of them all.  I hope to report back on some of these next year!

The North Face Endurance Challenge DC 50 Miler Race Report

Almost two weeks have past since I ran TNFEC 50 miler in DC (actually in Virginia, but close enough).  It was a day I won’t soon forget for a large number of reasons.

Going into this race, I knew it had the potential to be much hotter than the conditions I had trained in.  That’s pretty easy to figure out given the race was held in the DC area in the early part of spring, where temperatures and humidity have been known to begin rising much more quickly than in the Boston area.  Training through an intense New England winter, my toughness was not in question, but my acclimatization to heat certainly was.  To try and combat this, I did quite a few “heat suit” runs in multiple layers, a running coat, a hat, tights… 

Unfortunately, I was quite simply not prepared for the race day conditions.  Forecasted temperatures for the start of the race were mid-70s with high levels of humidity, rising into the low 90s as the day progressed.  Standing at the start line, I was absolutely sure the forecast was right; it was going to be a very hot day. 

Strangely enough, standing there in the half-darkness with Joel, it still hadn’t fully occurred to me that I was about to run 50 miles.  Maybe because I had never done it before my mind quite simply couldn’t grasp the task I was about to undertake.  Joel made some similar remarks about how he was feeling and we traded some giddy banter about the strangeness of it all.  Before long, the first wave of runners had departed.  As we were in the second wave, 1 minute later, we too were off.

My goal for the race was to take the first 14-15 miles of the race very easy.  I knew I’d be fighting adrenaline and didn’t want to ruin my day early.  Especially in the heat, I took great caution to run slowly, to drink often and to stay in touch with nutrition and hydration from the get go.  The schedule was simple:  a Gu every 30 minutes.  Every 90 minutes, a cliff bar.  Every hour, 2 SCaps.  Anytime the thought of drinking occurred to me, I drank heartily.  Every time I ate, I drank heartily.  

The first part of the course has a lollipop out-and-back.  I didn’t like this section at all as it felt counter-intuitive, like tack on mileage to an already arbitrary distance.  Once we got through the lollipop, though, and settled into some nice single-track, my mind started to settle.  Unfortunately, as we rolled alongside a golf course, the single track was so tight, passing wasn’t going to happen very easily.  I wasn’t running fast by any means, but I did catch up to some slower runners in front of me.  My flow was interrupted by their slower cadence and constant chatter, so when I saw a slight opportunity, I made a break off the trail to get around them.  I accomplished my goal, for sure, but in doing so, I ran into some stinging nettles.  Ouch!!  “Stay on the trail” I told myself.

When we reach the first of the short but very steep climbs on this course, I walked, despite feeling strong enough to run.  I was being extra cautious.  My climbing legs felt great through, and it felt great overall to be climbing.  I kept my pace measured on the downhills and my mind focused on staying upright.

I didn’t stop at the first aid-station as I still had plenty of water in my camelbak and plenty of nutrition as well.  The trail was quite hard to find as I ran past the Frasier aid-station, as it had become overgrown since I’d run that section earlier in the year with Joel.  Still, my mind was in a good place, my hydration, nutrition, body temperature and effort were all under control.

Soon enough I jogged down a steep decline and onto the road into Great Falls Park.  Waiting for me at Great Falls was my sister, who had taken great efforts to get to the park early enough to great me there and had prepared a number of helpful items to keep me fed and hydrated.  It was great to see her, and I was feeling really good.  She handed me a burrito, gave me some helpful words of encouragement and I headed over to my drop bag. 

Thanks to Joel’s good thinking, I copied him and prepared separate plastic baggies for each aid station stop at Great Falls.  This made the first exchange rather easy.  I emptied my trash, dumped the GU and Clif bars into my pack, dropped some nuun tablets into its bladder and headed to the actual aid station to get a fill of water.

I munched on the burrito Jen had given me and started up the fire road into the Great Falls loop that would be my undoing on this day.  I had done this loop twice with Joel during our course recon run earlier in the year.  I felt very confident I knew it well enough to know when to push and when not to.  Despite feeling strong enough to run, I walked as soon as the incline turned up, as many of the runners nearby me did.  As I turned from the fire road into the woods, I started to run, feeling quite good.  I made my way through a serious of ups and downs, none too high, but certainly steep enough.  Passing back towards the fire road, I saw Joel, who looked as if he was feeling quite good too.  This gave me a boost as I headed towards the next aid station.  Unfortunately, things soon started taking a turn for the worse.

I started to feel some stomach pains.  I have trained with burritos and found them to be the most agreeable thing to my stomach while I’m running.  Not so on this day I guess.  The heat was started to ratchet up, and I had been drinking a LOT of water as well, so these were surely contributing factors.  Regardless, my stomach was not well. 

As I passed through the next aid station and onto swamp trail, I made a special note to stay upright, as I had fallen in this technical section twice in my previous run here.  It’s made up of a lot of roots and rocks and if you don’t pay attention, they can jump up and bite you.  I did manage to stay upright the first time through this section, but my stomach was not getting better.  Back on the fire road, I took a detour to use the bathrooms that were near the turn.  Once I emerged from the bathrooms, I had a bit of an exchange with a course official who thought I was trying to cut a loop.  In the end, after he conferred with another official, they agreed the mark on my bib indicating that I had already made a stop at the second aid station was enough, but the situation frustrated me.  I had already lost enough time having to stop and this just send my mental state into the negative.

I then hit the iconic section of this course, a ¾ mile section along the exposed cliffs of the river bank.  The sun took its toll on me during this section and the relentlessly bad footing kept me from finding a rhythm.  Still, I pushed along knowing I’d soon be back at the great falls aid station where I would see not only my sister, but hopefully my wife and son and Joel’s wife and their son.

When I popped back out at the aid station, I saw no one, however, which was strange because I knew my sister (at least) was there.  I went to my drop bag and swapped everything out, filled my camelpak with water and peered around the crowds.  Turns out they thought I’d be coming from the same direction I had previously come, so they were waiting up the trail a ways.  I spotted Joel’s wife and waved for them to come over.  I spend some time high-fiving my son and letting everyone know how darn hot it was before departing.

This second loop of great falls park was really awful for me.  The day had gotten quite hot at this point, and it was starting to take a toll.  I didn’t have much energy, and instead of simply deciding to walk to conserve energy, I relished the chance to walk, if not HAD to walk due to lack of energy. 

The loop was unremarkable, apart from my seeing Joel (closing ground on me), taking a spill on swamp trail and deciding that I was no longer able to run this race as I ran along Great Falls approaching the aid station.  The heat had become unbearable, and I was losing the battle of core temperature.

As I pulled into the aid station, I immediately sat down and told my wife and sister that I wasn’t able to continue.  My wife said that I should keep pushing on, and my sister shouted at me: “You’re a Hodge.  Hodge’s finish.  You’re finishing this thing.”  That plus my son walking over with ice and putting in on the back of my head (he is nearly 2) really sealed it.  All that my family endured during my training and to be out here with me today, I owed it to them, to my friends, to Joel still out on the course and to myself to see it through.  After a long sit with ice on my neck and a box of coconut water (something I will use again, really good on this day) I got myself together and packed up to go back out for the final loop.  This time, I filled my bladder with ice, and put a bunch of ice down my shirt and (ahem) in my shorts.

It was amazing what the a little bit of coldness did for me.  It wasn’t apparent at first.  I started the loop much as I had the previous one, walking, feeling no energy and with a stomach that was not agreeing with anything I tried to put in it.  I was completely off my nutrition schedule, but I did increase the amount of SCaps I was taking and I think the coconut milk really helped as well.

When I saw Joel, he was not too far behind, maybe 15-20 minutes.  He told me to take it slow, that he’d catch up and we’d take it in the rest of the way together.  When Todd, Joel and I ran the Key Bank Vermont City Marathon last year, I had a similar implosion (though more physical, with leg issues).  Joel stopped his race late (mile 18) while very close to hitting his goal time to walk me in.  I was very grateful, but also felt awful.  I was determined not to let this happen again, even if it meant hiding in the bushes as he passed.

Soon after that, however, the ice started to do its work.  I started to cool down.  I started to run.  I started feeling better, taking in calories.  I stopped at the next aid station and had them dump cold water over my head (they were out of ice).  I ate two unboiled (no idea why they didn’t boil them, but I assume oversight) with salt and starting taking in clif shot blocs which were available at the aid station.  This all helped.  I ran swamp trail without falling and more quickly that I had the previous 2 times this day.  I made it through the Great Falls “cliff” section mostly running.  When I got to the aid station, I was extraordinarily hot, but not feeling too badly.  All I needed was some ice to cool me down.

Oh no!!!  No more ice!!  I’m amazingly disappointed that they ran out of ice.  It was an incredibly hot day.  Races have been known to be cancelled for this sort of thing…  but not an ultra.  They ran out of ice and I was going to have to deal with it.  I drank some more coconut milk, had a couple pieces of fruit, restocked my pack for the trip back to the finish and set out to finish this thing.

Jen paced me for the next couple of miles.  It was nice to run with her and took my mind of how frustrated I was to not have been able to cool down.  I don’t get to see her enough, and we spent the time catching up.  It was a nice boost.

After a steep climb, Jen left to head home after a long day of supporting me.  I didn’t feel too bad at this point, so I pushed the pace a bit.  This was fine, until I hit a road section exposed to the sun.  The heat crushed me.  Soon after, I was in an open field with the sun once again beating down on me.  I felt myself boiling… I was reduced to walking and my stomach really started to get bad.  By the time I made it back onto the single track section (and into the shade of the woods), I was frantically looking for places to duck in the bushes.  This would be a recurring theme for the rest of my day.

As would not being able to take in calories.  Be it due to too much water, too much salt, too much heat or some combination, my stomach was done cooperating and was in full revolt.  I ducked into the bushes a couple of times, and the rest I walked and jogged and walked and jogged.  The trail was littered with folks who were in distress, laying in the tall grass waiting for medical attention.  I was handing out SCaps left and right.  Whether I drank too much, and took too much salt is still debatable, but I will say I was still sweating, which meant to me I was hydrated.  That was the most positive thought I had.

A fellow I had been back and forth with all day came up at one point and we pushed ourselves through the next couple of miles together, him leading pulling me along, and then me leading pulling him along.  At one point, I turned around and he was gone.  And so with him went my motivation to run.

My energy was gone.  The Frasier aid station was a mess when I got there, and I couldn’t (mentally) take the time to get what I hoped for (ice, a beverage other than water, something edible), so I quickly filled my bladder with two cup-fulls of ice (they were rationing) and took off.  Still not able to eat, and still ducking into the bushes, my energy hit an all-time low for the race.  I was resigned by mile 42 that I would have to walk it in.  I could not get my mind around how long it would take in this heat to walk it in.  It was demoralizing.  Being exposed to the heat through the golf course on tight single track with a stomach that was bursting every half mile or so was really taking its toll on my mental state.

After 4 miles of mostly walking, I hit the last aid station.  This was just before the lollipop out and back, which was frustrating at the start of the race, but maddeningly so this late into it.  I could not believe how slow I was moving.  I could not believe how far off my goals I was.  I could not believe I couldn’t just make forward progress to the finish, but had to waltz around this silly lollipop out and back to make the mileage right.  I also noticed there was nothing I could imagine eating or drinking at the aid station apart from some coke.  I drink two warm cups of it and starting walking the loop.

A few things happened at this point.  I think the carbonation from the coke settled my stomach a bit, the calories and caffeine in it spiked my energy and I realized that I was going to finish, no matter what.  It hurt to walk and it hurt to run… and I’ve heard the advice time and time again: “If it hurts to walk and it hurts to run, run”.  And so I ran.  And I started shouting at people, “We’re going to finish these 50 miles”!  I think people must have thought I was crazy, and surely, by this point I was.  But I was running. 

I saw Joel one last time as I was nearly done with the lollipop.  I was amazed, by that point, that he hadn’t caught me, but I could tell from his gait that he was dealing with problems of his own (and it turns out, the entire bottoms of his feet were completely covered in blisters and mashed up to bits, making each step nearly intolerable).

But I was running.

I stopped at the aid station to grab some more coke, had them pour some water over my head and took off, shouting.

I ran large stretches, pausing to walk when there was shade.  When I reached the golf cart path leading to the finish, I let it all go… I ran as well as my overheating, depleted and battered body would allow, purely on mental strength.  I crossed the finish in a sea of emotion, nearly 3 hours off my “best case” time goal, to very minimal fanfare.  I was done.

What an experience for my first “real” ultra.  It was a super long day, one that surely could have been better had I made some smarter decisions, had I done hotter heat training, had I done any number of things.  But it was a true learning experience… I learned (some of) what to do and what not to do in a race of that length, under those conditions.  Some tidbits I will take to my next race are:

• change shoes and socks and much as possible, if necessary, to keep the feet in top condition; 
• if you cannot take in calories from solid or semi-solid food, take them in from sports drinks or coke; 
• if you are sweating, your hydrating is ok, no need to overdo it; 
• start a regular schedule of SCaps and stick to it, no need to overdo it; 
• Have alternate means of cooling yourself down, if possible; 
• Coconut water is quite good, as is coke.

I also learned that I’m made of the right stuff to get me through a race like that.  It was revealing and rewarding to finish a race in those conditions, feeling the way I felt.  I take away from that experience things that will contribute positively to who I am as a person, things that will positively influence my life going forward.

And you’d better believe I can’t wait to race that far (hopefully more quickly next time) again!

Don't Drive the Boat: My Nutrition Strategy for TNF 50 DC

The North Face 50 miler (DC) is rapidly approaching.  I have put in the training, my fitness is quite good.  One area where I am not confident, however, is my nutrition/hydration strategy.  I have run exactly 3 events of marathon distance or longer (one marathon and two 50ks).  Two of these races took place in spring after a solid training cycle done primarily in cooler temperatures.  Both of these spring races were in temperatures not terribly warm, but considerably warmer than the temperatures I trained in.  I bonked very badly in each of these races which led to a death march to the finish.  The last of these death marches took place a little over 3 weeks ago, so I certainly have reason to be concerned.

In the weeks of training since that last death march, I have worked considerably on nutrition and hydration.  I have worn a heat suit on a majority of my runs, layering up in my winter running gear to simulate warmer temps.  In my attempts to solve the nutrition and hydration problem, I can say I have fallen victim to what I like to call the “driving the boat approach”.

When you drive a boat, you turn the wheel a little, and you don’t get the effect you want immediately, so a novice will turn the wheel more.  Soon, you’ll find you’ve turned too much, and so you might overcompensate by turning the wheel too much in the other direction.  Not a very efficient strategy.

In my approach to hydration and nutrition this year, I first took the approach that I would train my body not to need as much hydration and nutrition.  This started with Metabolic Efficiency runs, where I would limit calories before a run, keep the pace quite slow and head out for 90 to 120 minutes of running with no calories and limited water.  I actually got quite good at this in the heart of a New England winter.  I thought this would carry over to longer runs when temperatures got warmer.

I was wrong.  What I hoped was that I could drink less water and eat less calories on a typical run at a regular effort than the same type of run from last year.  Given that my running abilities have increased, I set off in my spring race with high hopes and a single hand-held.  After pushing the pace through 1 loop, not in-taking any calories and having drained 20 oz of water, I was feeling off.  But I thought I could easily remedy that at the aid station.  Two small cups of coke in addition to a freshly filled handheld should do it right?  Whoops, I forgot to eat, just focusing on hydration (though the code did provide some calories).  Thankfully, I had two GUs stashed in my bottle.  But I was already behind and it turned out I was never able to get back to where I needed to be.  Instead, I pushed the pace despite feeling badly, blew my legs up and had little left even after I got on top of my hydration/nutrition needs.

Two weeks later, finally fully recovered, I set out for 25 miles of trails, intending to simulate my upcoming race.  I was rushing out the door and didn’t have time to eat a proper breakfast, nor hydrate before the run, but I thought I’d be ok, given the sheer amount of hydration and calories I was bringing.  It’s true, I had not skimped in any way as I was determined to eat and drink constantly on this run.  Before setting off, I ate a clif bar.  I figured 250 calories is the max your body can process in an hour anyway, so I should be all set until hour 2.  I drank to thirst from my hydration pak and I felt just find for the first hour.  In hour two, I figured I’d take a gel every 30 minutes.  I should have started right on the hour mark, but I did not.  I waited until 1:30, when I started to feel light headed, to take my first gel.  For some reason, despite the lack of energy I felt, I didn’t try to top up on calories or water.  I could have taken 2 GUs for example, and drank heartily from my hydration bladder.  Instead, I just kept telling myself, 1 gel every 30 minutes, drink to thirst.

I was still feeling ok by the time I hit two hours, but I think the damage was done.  I passed through the “aid station” I had set up quickly, grabbing some “real food” calories but choosing not to refill my water knowing I’d be back to the car in 5 miles.  Not refilling proved to be a mistake, because I rationed water over the latter part of those 5 miles (which took longer than I expected) and got behind on hydration (having already started behind, this was not a good situation).  Another mistake I made was to take in solid food calories for longer, sustained energy, without tending to my immediate energy needs.  I should have taken a gel along with my “real food” to keep me running strong. 

After I finished the 5 mile loop and was back at the car, I was determined to do two things:  1. Eat and drink myself back to where I needed to be to finish the run and 2. To slow my pace down so as to not crush my legs in the state I was in; to give my body a chance to recover before picking the pace up again.  #2 was smart.  #1 was a good idea, but here is where I drove the boat in the other direction.  I ate a bunch of real food and a couple gels.  I drank 32 oz of water in one sitting and then however much I could after getting through the food.  Despite moving quite slowly, the impact to my system of taking all those calories and water at once was quite strenuous.  I became very nauseous.  In fact, I even needed to sit down at one point to collect myself.

After a short rest I got back up and started moving slowly down the trail.  As the nausea started to dissipate, I could feel my energy coming around.  I didn’t have any desire to eat for an hour after taking in all those calories and drinking all that water, and I’m glad I didn’t force it.  All in all, the last hour and a half of the run went quite well, especially once I started taking in gels and drinking on a regular schedule.  I switched to every 20 minutes for the second half of the run and that seemed to work out fine.  I finished feeling ok, but had certainly put in some painfully slowly miles correctly my mistakes along the way.  (I ran out of water a couple miles from the finish, which I’m sure I would not have were I to have filled up again the first aid stop and then again at the second aid stop).

I took the lessons learned in these experiences into my last long run before the race this past weekend.  I ate a nice breakfast and drank plenty of water before heading out on my run.  I started my calorie intake 30 minutes into the run and was very regular about it, switching the 20 minute intervals in the second half of the run.  I mixed real food with gels, never taking in more than 400 calories in an hour, and making sure I stayed balanced between the two (weighing more heavily on the immediate energy side of things).  I stuck to non-caffeinated products/food for the first half of the run and then mixed in caffeinated products/foods for the second half.  I drank every time the thought occurred to me.  If I felt light-headed, or my energy fading, I ate a bit more, drank and bit more and pulled the effort back ever so slightly.  It wasn’t the fastest run I’ve ever done, but it was far better than my effort of the previous week on the same trails.

Still, the North Face 50 miler will bring a lot more heat and a lot more miles.  I’m hoping this balanced plan can see me through to the end.  The training is there, so do I know how to properly drive the boat or not?

The Evolution of My Running

It’s been almost a month and a half since the New RiverTrail 50k.  It’s been a month and a half since I have been training for anything, running hard or seriously or even blogging about running.  And yet, I’ve never been more “in love” with running.

The NRT 50k was an evolution of sorts in my still-young running life.  Sure, I started to come apart towards the end, probably didn’t fuel well enough and am still somewhat hobbled by the physical after-effects of training for and racing in that race.  Regardless, it can be counted as no less than the best running experience I have had to date.

Strangely, since running that race, the feeling I crave from running, the feeling I most want to feel when out for a run is the feeling I had at my lowest point in that race (mile 27).  I was down and out, just passing by the mileage marker of my longest ever run, under-fueled, limping and completely isolated (after having spent most of the first 3 hours of the race with some great folks).  I was struggling.

I just kept reminding myself, “I choose to do this, and I do it because I love it; This is what I’m here for, this is what I trained for.”

And the training paid off.  And that’s what makes me want to be back in that place, testing my training, testing my mind, my ability to persevere; testing my love of running.

The year is winding down now and there are no significant goals left to accomplish.  My mileage for the year will be well above the goal I had set at the beginning of the year.  I’ve run all the races I had planned to run.  I had some great experiences and some bad experiences.  Most importantly, learned a heck of a lot about how and why I run and running in general. 

Heading into 2013, I’m already focusing on a 24 week training cycle, starting the very first day of the year (just before that, actually), targeting at getting me ready for the North Face Endurance Challenge50 mile race in Washington, DC.  I’ll be lucky enough to run that race with Joel again, and we’ll go through our (vastly different) training cycles together as well.

Going into 2012, the focus was on running longer.  The hope was that I could run longer and lose only minimal speed.  What I learned, quite unfortunately, is that I lose quite a bit of speed the longer I run, much more than I had hoped.  Training for a 50 mile race is going to have to be about abandoning any idea of speed altogether.

I never fully grasped the idea of “running by feel” before the NRT 50k.  Call it a result of being under or over-trained for races, but the way I felt in races leading up to that one could only be characterized using negative terms.  If I were running by feel, I wouldn’t be running at all, it would seem.  But in stretching my runs out longer than I ever thought possible, I’ve started to realize just how amazing the human body is.  I haven’t quite determined if “running by feel” is fully coupling the body and mind, or fully de-coupling the body and mind.  The reality is that there are most likely times when coupling works best, and other times when de-coupling works best…  and it’s that adaptability that really defines running by feel.

Running by feeling really blows open the doors on my enjoyment of running, however.  Forgetting about the watch, about whether I’m running too fast or too slow for goal pace and focusing about my perceived effort has allowed me to become much more in tune with my body and with my surroundings.  This is especially true on trails, when not being in touch with my body and surroundings will result in a face plant.  Some days, after I get back from the run, upload it and see what transpired, I’m quite amazed at how much faster or slower the run is than what I perceived.  But I think the value of understanding how much effort you are exerting relative to how much energy you have in reserve, how to properly push the pace when you are hurting, and back off it (even when you are not hurting) to ensure you’re going to be able to finish and run the race you want to run is fully supported by training in this manner, and so it will be my motif during this training cycle.

I’m also working on my Metabolic Efficiency.  There was an article in October’s Ultrarunning magazine (one of the best running magazines out there, in my opinion, for runners of any distance) about how to train your body to become more efficient at burning fat as fuel.  This makes perfect sense to me.  If my stomach is off and I can’t take in calories for a period of time, I want to be able to keep pushing on without taking a huge physical or mental toll.  I want my body to operate as efficiently as possible in all conditions, and I realize just feeling comfortable on my training runs isn’t going to get me there.  So, for the past 2 weeks and for the next four, I’ll be eating a (vegetarian, as always) diet high in protein (with a bit more fat than usual) and lower in carbs than I normally eat.  I won’t fuel specifically for any training run, nor will I fuel during any training run.  Too, I’ll be running SLOWLY (so as to keep my heart-rate in the right zone for optimal ME training) and for a duration between 1 hr 30 min and 2 hrs for as many runs as I can.  This should lead right into the beginning the training cycle for the 50 miler, so the timing is perfect.  Generally, I would just build a cardiovascular base before a training cycle anyway, so it’s not terribly different from what I would normally plan, with the exception of the nutritional aspect.

Training for and racing in the 50-miler is going to take up the first half of next year.  I plan to throw in a 50k race in that time (hopefully the TARC Spring Classic) and possibly a fast half marathon with Todd (the Quincy Half again?).  Beyond that, I don’t yet know.  Maybe I’ll try for another marathon at the end of next year, see if I really can run as fast as I want to run for that distance?  We’ll see.  I think a lot depends on how the 50 miler goes... I could end up signing up for a 100 miler, or I could end up hanging up the shoes altogether.

But for now, I’m loving running more than I ever have, and I feel so lucky to have had such a great and relatively injury free year of consistent running (haven’t had a single week without logging at least one run all year).  I’m really looking forward to tackling the 50 mile distance and figuring out where I want to go with my running from there.  Onward!!