but today, I found euphoria, and now that I know its really out there, it’s going to make pushing through the wall that much more rewarding.

Here’s how it happened

Today, my training was 11.4 miles. Nothng too crazy, right? But in that run, I was to:

• hammer 3 x 1-mile intervals (6:58 pace)
• with 4,6,9 minute recoveries (9:34 pace)
• BUT, to finish off the intervals, I had to run 1.5 miles at that same pace (6:58)
• then click off another 3 miles at steady pace (8:20)

On paper, sounds like a piece of cake.

It wasn’t

After 2 miles of 8:20-ish pace, I kicked in the first 1-mile interval. 6:58 is a pretty strong pace for me right now in my re-conditioning, but I got through it.

4:00 recovery (9:34 pace, slow thank God!)

Then, the 2nd 1-mile interval followed, again @ 6:58, and I wondered if’d get through it this time. It was hard and I felt my form begin to crumble.

6:00 recovery (9:34 pace)

The third interval came and all the way through it, I thought, “man, 1.5 miles at this pace is going to break me.”

and I felt frustrated and defeated.

During the entire 9:00 recovery, almost another complete mile, I stressed over the last interval. 1.5 miles at 6:58 was gonna hurt bad – especially after 6 miles, 3 of which were 6:58 pace intervals…

THEN I PUT ON MY BIG BOY PANTIES

I’m sick of the little weaknesses that break me. I’m sick of having mad potential and throwing it away for super-sick, deeply-seated, deeply-rooted BS that I use to define why I do some of the dumb shit I do.

I’m sick of it.

In running …in life, in relationships, in everything. I’m sick of the bullshit. Period.

I started yelling.

“I got this mutha _ _ _ _er!” – and all kinds of colorful, cussing that built me up, made me feel strong and defiant and powerful and while some may look to the heavens, I looked within.

And it was time.

But instead of cranking that pace to 6:58, I went 6:53. My “punishment for being such a little bitch.”

and I ran hard.

By 1/2 mile into it, I knew it was going to take everything I had to hang on. On the treadmill, you can’t just slow down or you’ll get slammed into the wall behind you… You HAVE to keep up the pace.

I played all the mental games. Checking out mentally, listening to the loud Harry the Bastard mix on the speakers, thinking about naked women, …anything I could think of to get my mind off of my rapid breathing, sore foot and cartoon-character-feeling pace under foot.

Again, I yelled, out-loud and defiantly, “I got this!” and “You can’t break me!”

and I held on.

and got stronger.

and all of sudden, it stopped hurting.

“what?”

yup.

My breathing came under control.

My chest was pushed out, my feet moving swiftly under my center of mass, and my form was clean and tight.

My head went trippy, like some kind of special garden imagery filled my brain. Similar to how I pictured the “other side” in the book “The Shack”.

and I no longer felt bad.

In fact, I felt great.

The last .3 miles of that 1.5 mile interval was the BEST running experience I have ever had and that’s why I’m documenting it.

I dug deep and found “that” place that every athlete looks for.

…and I deeply, wantingly, want to go back there.

It was euphoria. And I found it on my own.

Today, January 30, 2012 might just be the first time I’ve seen the sun in Georgia all month.

Alabama feels my pain.

Apparently this has been the 7th rainiest month in Huntsville history and leading up to the Mountain Mist 50K, chatter was developing on the social networks, running lists and face-to-face conversations concerning the conditions of the Monte Sano trails for Saturday’s race.

“It’s gonna be a mud-fest” pretty much summed up the overall sentiment.

It was.

Getting the Hang of This “Steady” Pacing Thing

It appears, and I say appears ‘cuz I’m known for flip-flopping completely like I never actually learned a damn thing, but it APPEARS that I’m finally starting to understand pacing better -- and its all because of this pesky ankle injury.

And yes, I know y’all are sick of hearing about it.

I’m sick of it, too.

Weezy’s really sick of it, and uses it as an open opportunity to clown me, but screw him, he’s a camo-wearin’ redneck.

But, the injury forces me to take races easy. I’m constantly concerned about the weakened ankle, and I take extra special care to manage pace and foot placement accordingly.

Easy to do on the road. Not so easy on the rocky, muddy Monte Sano trails.

Aid Station 1 -- 6.5 miles

I’ve been focusing on shorter racing lately and hadn’t run an official ultramarathon since UTMB in August. Yikes! I was concerned that I might have trouble running 31 miles at this point in my training, so humble was the name of the game (if that’s possible for me).

My race plan was simple:

• Carry nothing but a small water bottle. No nutrition.
• Swipe something light at each aid station. Rely on sports drink.
• Stay no more than 1 minute at any one aid station.
• Run slowly, enjoy the day, and just see what happens.

Here’s my best advice for Mountain Mist, and some might not like me giving it away to newbies to the event, but when that gun goes off, it’s in your best interest to run the first mile, fast, with the front pack through the park streets. You might get a little gassed, but once runners dip into the trail, things slow down a bit and you’ll recover, but best of all you’ll avoid a nasty “conga line” that develops very early.

Funny thing is, a lot of people are starting to learn this little tip so that first mile is getting faster and faster every year.

I was running behind popular GUTS runner Sally Brooking and Monte Sano local Rob Youngren for that first 4 mile gradual climb to the dirt road at the top. I kept the pace slower than last year, hovering around 8:45-9:15, and paying close attention to heart rate. If I started to gasp at all, I slowed down.

One thing that makes Mist such a great race is that although there are some really tough sections, there are also some really fast, runnable sections. The winding trail just before aid station 1 is a perfect example of this.

Can I get a witness?

6.5 miles done and I feel as good as a runner can feel.

Aid Station 2 -- 11.5 miles

After the first aid station, runners begin a short, but steep technical drop, which this year was also ridiculously muddy. I caught up to Sally again and noticed that she was also taking the technical downs with a little more care than usual. Sally’s dealt with ankle/foot issues on the trail in the past, so I followed suit.

Hitting the powerlines trail, I hear Sally yell, “Christian, do you see any footprints?”

First of all, no, I did not; but second, that little experience reiterated for me what a smart, experienced trail runner Sally really is. I would have never thought to look for footprints. I was just cruising along oblivious. It was because of her that we quickly figured out where we went wrong, and fixed it without any lost time.

Let’s make sure I remember this at Fuego Y Agua 100K in Nicaragua next month.

About 8.5 miles in comes the first significant, gnarly climb -- K2 -- a short, but steep crawl that really reminded me how much I need to train more for trail climbing before the Bighorn 100-miler in June.

I power-hiked 90% of the climb.

Sally passed me cuz she rocks climbs.

At the top comes more of that fun, rolling Monte Sano trail running. Since we were up high, there was minimal mud and a pack of us dipped and rolled at a steady pace all the way to aid station #2.

It was during this section that I started an all day affair of leap-frog with an Alabama local named Will Barnwell. All day long from this point until the very end, I’d pass Will on the climbs and flats, and he’d crush the downs leaving me in the dust. It was a running joke all day (no pun intended). I got him in the end, but only because Mist finishes during a long climb and flat finish. Had it finished on a descent, he would have gotten me.

Aid Station 3 -- 17 miles

This next section of Mist after aid station 3 has the only part of the course I do not like, and to make it worse, I had to be extra slow and careful not to turn my ankle. The only way to describe it is to imagine yourself running down an old dried-up creek bed. Ankle-biting rocks about twice the size of softballs, that move, shift, and roll and there is absolutely no avoiding it. No side trail. nothing. You HAVE to run across it for about 1/2 mile and its slow, painful and annoying.

This entire section was pretty brutal. The mud following the psuedo creek bed was probably the worst of the entire day. You can try to write about how muddy something is, but unless you were there, it’s hard to really grasp it. I could really see it eating people up in this section and I passed a lot of people who either went out too fast, or who were getting slowly whittled down with mud challenge and frustration.

Running through thick, slippery mud is tough because, like sand, it sucks the life out of you. Each step takes more effort and careful planning than it would otherwise. It’s physically taxing and mentally exhausting.

Still strong. Still steady. And a little bit lifted from passing runners along the way.

Aid Station 4 -- 20.5 miles

It’s time to focus on the upcoming waterline climb.

The foreshadowing leading to waterline is another unique and interesting element of Mountain Mist 50K. The section starts out very rocky, and aside from a few short stints of clear trail, it pretty much stays that way until you approach the beginning of the waterline section.

What is waterline? Waterline is one of the unique factors that so many associate with this race. A long, gradual uphill along a stretch of trail built on top of water pipe that eventually dumps runners into the mid-section of a waterfall.

I like to fill my water bottle from the falls even though people think I’m nuts. I did it again this year. Giardia be damned.

After the waterfall crossing, runners have to climb out from the falls, using both hands and feet, on extremely muddy, slippery rocks. One slip and you could easily find yourself bouncing to the bottom of the ravine, so its steady as she goes.

Runners then cross a second waterfall bed and begin a climb that would make Barkley veterans proud. Well, kinda, because although its as steep as something you’d find at Barkley, it’s much shorter of a climb -- about 1/4 mile straight up from the second waterfall bed.

If you’re a newbie to Mist, this might make you cry.

I’ve seen it happen before.

Jus’ sayin…

Aid Station 5 -- 25 miles

Yahoo! Ultraunning list member Heather Whiteside was manning this aid station and it was nice to see a friendly face. I was still running comfortably, albiet sick as Hell of the mud, and after a few pleasantries, blazed out of that aid station quickly. Although I had no real time goals, I did want to ensure I ran under six hours.

Miles 26-27 can feel really long. Muddy jeep road to nowhere. But, I passed a few guys here, and before long I began that familiar EXTREMELY technical descent into McKay’s Hollow. Keys 50-mile and Peanut Island 12-hour race winner Tatiana Spencer was hanging out here, which was cool, but very unexpected, and she asked if she could run into the hollow with me.

“sure, come on…”

And she did.

A couple of minutes later I heard someone bearing down on me from behind, and I thought it was her, but nope, it was that pesky Will Barnwell hammering the descent into McKay’s like it was flat. I simply don’t know how he did that with all the mud, technical drops and horrible footing. Kid can hammer some downs, y’all…

I really do like McKay’s Hollow. For some reason, it just feels magical down there. Always remind me of the 1985 Tom Cruise movie, “Legend”

www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rW_u7wfvTE

It’s a really beautiful section of forest and trail, but no, I haven’t seen any unicorns down there.

Of course, being that we were now in the muddy flats, headed towards the third and final gnarly climb called rest shelter, I caught Will and we also caught another dude whose name I did not get. He had lost his water bottles and asked if we could share any fluids with him.

I tossed him my water bottle, about half full with sports drink, and told him to keep it until the finish. I knew I could down some coke at the top of rest shelter and then it was only 1.8 miles to the finish, so I was good. No worries. He looked like he needed it bad, so it was cool wid’ me.

One less thing to deal with.

Fajitas?

As I made my way up the  switch-back climb of rest shelter, I saw a familiar bald head in the distance.

“Fajitas! What up fool?”

He was kinda limping and not motoring along in his usual style, so I figured he must have gotten hurt. Remember, this is the dude who ran 280 miles 3 weeks ago at Across the Years, and someone who’s performances have been the awe for many of us throughout all of 2011.

We chatted for a second, and I passed, …but, I know Joe. He’s just like me, and although the pleasantries of conversation were just that, he hates to be passed and many times will fight back when it happens. I expected today would be no different.

Aid Station 6 -- 30 miles (only 1.8 to go)

At the top of rest shelter, I skarfed down three cups of Mountain Dew and took off. I just knew that Joe was going to come back and get me and I wanted to fight him off, the bald bastard.

The last section is short, flat and fast and since I was feeling good, I had no problems running 8:30 pace along this stretch.

I was so very proud of myself.

Congratulating myself for a great, even-paced race, and proud to be kicking a pretty strong pace to the finish.

Nobody was gonna catch me, right?

Right…?

Then I heard the footsteps.

“Oh no, here comes that ^&%#! Joe,” I cussed to myself.

But nope.

Rob Youngren.

This deflated me more than Joe catching me.

Why? Because Rob ran the race course throughout the previous night, then, turned around and ran the official race afterwards. He had ~60 miles on his legs and he was passing me in the last half mile in the 8s.

I was in awe.

Much respect unicycle-boy.

Finish Line -- 5:43:15

Cool -- only 28 minutes off last year’s time. In those challenging conditions, I’ll take it.

But the best thing about the finish was how I felt. Usually, I’m flat-out crushed, and usually because I went out too fast and suffered for many miles.

Not this year. Not this race.

The even-paced, chilled-out approach netted out pretty well for me and I felt like I could turn around and run it again …but I ain’t Rob, so I didn’t.

What Did I learn?

Man, I’ve learned a lot through this injury, the Skarfing Project, and ALL the sessions from the school of ultrarunning hard knocks, but specific to this race, the following were keys to what I call a successful race (regardless of no PR):

• Pacing: This was key. I had brief periods of overall fatigue, but I never felt rough.
• Weight loss: ran the race at under 190 lbs -- for you whippets that’s still huge, I know.
• Carry less = Less stress: Just a water bottle. After all, aid is there for a reason.
• Strength training: my body felt strong. Nod to the deadlift training.
• Consistent running: Very little holes in my marathon training. Strict consistency.

And that’s it.

Mountain Mist #5 in the books. Five more ’til I get that jacket.

*** Here is the Mountain Mist Garmin data showing course, elevation and pace information.

…and I must mention the ride back to Atlanta with my inebriated compadres, Fajitas and Weezly Weezle “the redneck rat”. Some funny conversation went down in that car, y’all. Oh, to be a fly on the wall, …er, windshield. Comic relief. We could’a sold admission.

As many in the ultraunning community have heard, Georgia runner (and swell pal) Joe Fejes ran a fantastic race at this year’s Across The Years 72-hour race.

Dude ripped off 280 miles, winning the event, and exciting all of us who watched him, both on location, and from keyboards and computer screens around the country.

ATY Race Report

Joe does not currently have a blog and asked if I would post his report.

Enjoy:

• Joe Fejes – 280 miles in 72 hours {pdf}

Congratulations Joe – we’ze proud of ya here Gaw’ga.

If I fail, then at least I know my limitations and know that my true level of dedication does not match what I want it to be (or wish it to be)

It’s kinda scary really; but at least I’ll know, and I can scale and mold my athletic future with a better sense of ‘self’

Some people believe New Years resolutions are only proclamations destined to fail.

In my eyes, those people have already failed before they started.

I Love New Years

It’s a time reflect, and a time to dream.

While I didn’t clobber every race goal I had, I nailed a few gems that offered a glimmer of hope that I can continue the quest for improved athletic performances. A couple of 2011 accomplishments that I’m most proud of:

• 3:13  marathon at Mercedes Marathon in Birmingham
• 5:15 Mountain Mist 50K Trail run
• 1:30 half-marathon at Silver Comet
• A handful of 5, 10, and 15K wins at local races

And a few other tidbits included in the ongoing running resume.

Biggest Hurdles for Success

I am my own worst enemy.

I get a coach, and I don’t follow.

I race when I should rest.

I talk when I should listen.

I eat ridiculous amounts of food, and many times the wrong food.

But I’m not about to give up.

Skarfing – a Two Week Project in Discipline

So check it – about the food thing – I know I suck at it, and I continue to suck at it; but one thing I do know is that transparency and accountability are key factors for success where I’m concerned.

Starting Monday, January 2, 2012, I begin The Skarfing Project – A visual food log created via Tumblr and shared across the social grid grid via Twitter and Facebook.

The visual food log works like this:

• Every time I eat, anything, I first have to take a picture of it
• Each food image is automatically uploaded to The Skarfing Project
• …and shared on the Skarfing Facebook page.
• …and shared via the Skarfing Twitter page.

Fitness:

• Logging all running (and strength training) on my Daily Mile profile
  • Advanced marathon training schedule (15 weeks)
    • Peaking for Boston Marathon in April
  • Implementing a unique strength training program focusing on core
    • Kettlebells
    • Mobility and joint strength
    • Bodyweight movements
    • Functional development
    • Swimming

What is the Ultimate Goal?

the loss of muscle has made a muscular looking doughboy, …just a doughboy.

The immediate goal is simply to see if I can be 100% strict and adhere to my program, and measure the results of such.

The overall goal is work towards body transformation.

When I first started running in 2006, I was fat. By 2009 I was eager to improve my race times and performances. By 2010 I started setting my sights on actually becoming a real athlete.

When I lifted weights as a runner, I just got big(ger).

When I quit strength training to “just run”, I got faster, as intended, but now I am weak; but more than just being weak, the loss of muscle has made a muscular looking doughboy, …just a doughboy.

I like having muscle, and I want it back.

There has to be a happy marriage between muscle and running fast. This two-week experiment will lay the foundation for whether or not I can actually be strict and follow-through on something as intended.

If I do, the reward is to continue.

If I fail, then at least I know my limitations and know that my true level of dedication does not match what I “want” it to be (or wish it to be)

It’s kinda scary really; but at least I’ll know, and I can scale and mold my athletic future with a better sense of “self”

Why? Why Am I Doing This?

First, I want the ultimate in accountability, while also keeping the process uber-simple. Writing a food log is a pain in the @ss, and even for only two weeks, but photos are are easy, very real, and something that I can quickly and easily look back on. Also, I’m hoping for feedback from people as I struggle through the food maze.

Second, I wanted to experiment with using the social grid, and its tools, in unique and interesting ways with regards to goal achievement and communication. Maybe something cool will develop from this experiment.

Invitation to Make Fun of Me

If you’d like to follow the two-week experiment, please connect with The Skarfing Project via one of the links below:

• Tumblr: The Skarfing Project
• Facebook: Skarfing Facebook page
• Twitter: Skarfing Twitter page

I’d love to get your feedback as I go along.

The first challenge is merely two week. Two weeks. I can do anything for two weeks.

Uber-strict. Me and the web. Tomorrow, January 2, 2012.

{me} “It doesn’t hurt if I shuffle.”, I explained. “Just need to see how damn fast I can shuffle…”

{Dink, RD} “Be careful. Good luck.”

Mile 1

“oh, man, am I limping?”

“Feels stiff, …yea, I’m pretty sure I’m limping”

{me} “Yo, Weezy, am I limping?”

{Lil Weezy} “Yup, a little bit.”, … “yea, you’re limping.”

“damn…”

Mile 2

“oh man, there’s Ami.”, “she’s running good these days. Probably being smart and holding back.”

“Should I pass? Better not. Just settle in behind for a little while.”

“This is probably a mistake, but I feel pretty good, I’m going…”

“Of course I feel good, it’s only mile 2.”

Mile 3

“what pace group is that?”

“3:25? Oh God. This is bad. But I feel good.”

“I’ll just settle in with this group for awhile.”

Mile 4

“man, yo, hella turns - don’t these neighborhoods ever go straight?”

“these 3:25 peeps seem slow to me right now.”, “wait, that’s stupid, just chill”

“naw, the ankle seems good, I’m gonna push it.”

Mile 5

“wow, cool, puttin some distance on the 3:25 group.”

“nice”

“…wonder if I can catch the 3:20 group?”, “is there a 3:20 group?”

“nice, a crowd. let me fix my posture a bit. Gotta look like a belong here.”

“dude, you realize that’s cheesy right?”

“Slap the kids’ hands. It’ll make you feel good, too”

Mile 6

“Well lookie here. it’s John Price.”, “jus’ gonna run along side him quietly for a second…”

“man, he’s running pretty fast, but I’m gonna pass him on this climb”

{small talk}

“he’s not going with me.”, “man I hope I run like him when I’m his age. Dude has the life!”

“who are these country bumpkins talking to each other with me in between them? Gonna let these fools go.”

“whoa, was that John again? Damn, he’s hammering this downhill. I’m not going with him. I’ll get him later.”

“…maybe”

Mile 7

“aw, man, more tight-turn neighborhoods.”

“Look at John, he’s waaay up there. Damn older dude is putting the smack down on me.”

“these tighht turns suck. I better pickup my foot more on the turns. Protect, protect, protect the ankle…”

Mile 8

“Oh, man, am I slowing down? Here comes the 3:25 pace group.”

“screw it, I shouldn’t be up here anyway, but if I’m slowing now, already, this is no good.”

“I’ll just run with them.”

“There’s John. I’m gonna get him again on this climb. Wonder if he spent too much early?”

Mile 9

“whoa, pacer dude, whatch out killa’ – stoppin’ for water without looking behind you ain’t too smart”

“I’m gonna get ahead of these guys again.”

Mile 10

“whoa, what the hell? Those dudes just hammered past me…”

{another runner} “I think they just picked up the pace”

{me} “Glad you noticed that, too. I was starting to worry.”

“But they’re still going hard.”

“putting mad distance on me quick. Am I slowing? Why am I not chasing them?

“too early, just chill.”

Mile 11

“now I know why race reports called this section boring, but I’m happy to be going straight”

“more hands to slap! Cool. I dig the kids, man”

“better inventory. How do I feel? I’m getting a little tired. Where are those 3:25 peeps?”

“Damn! they have 50 yards on me.”

{outloud, and loud} “I suck.”

Mile 12

“The miles feel like they’re clicking off. Half marry point next.”

“Can I hang in? Ankle feels fine, but I’m wheezing.”

“No consistent training for a month, could my fitness be way off?”

“oh shut up, you know you are over-reaching. Just don’t do anythng stupid, dumbass.”

Mile 13

“Cool. 1:42. I expected much worse.”

“halfway done.”

“Can I negative split? Is it time to pick it up? Not sure I can. I’ll wait.”

Mile 14

“whoa, that’s some cold wind. Strong, too”

“yikes, it’s like running into a wall of molasses”

“ok, shit, this is draining my energy…”

Mile 15

“Why is she calling out splits when there’s a race clock right there?”

“They call this race fast? I’m losing energy like somebody stuck a pin in me.”

“Wonder if Babette is going to try to find me along the course. I hope not, actually. I might quit.”

“This wind SUCKS!”

Mile 16

“welp, back into the neighborhoods. I don’t like these neighborhoods”

{getting really grumpy now – nothing wrong with ‘hoods.}

“ok, so we’re climbing now. Great.”

“…and it keeps going, wonderful…”

“I’m definitly slowing. My ankle is gettng stiff. I started too fast. I suck.”

Mile 17

“Oh god, my form is starting to flail.”

“Maybe I’ll listen to music.”

“Screw it, I’ll just get annoyed.”

Mile 18

{3:30 pace group} “Is that Christian Griffith?”

“Aw man, who is this saying my name?”

{{{ look back }}}

“Great… 3:30 pace group is about to clip me.”

“Such a punk I am. Everybody I know is gonna catch me…”

“Ouch! great, here it comes. I knew it wouldn’t last. Hang in there ankle, you %^%$#!”

Mile 19

“Welp, there they go.”

“3:30 peeps got me…ankle hurts…fitness sucks…I’m gonna be lucky to break 4 hours.”

Mile 20

“just a 10K to go, but I feel terrible. Nothing left.”

“who’s that huffin and puffin behind me?”

“AMI! aw man, she’s gonna clip my wings, man”

{me} “Hi Ami.”

{Ami} “…”

“Damn it.”

“Good for her, but I’m still bummed.”

“I’m gonna try to stay with her…”

“yea, right, fat chance.”

Mile 21

“beautiful. Really? More ^%$%! neighborhoods?”

“Maybe I should just walk. Clearly I’m totally shot-out and my time is gonna suck, anyway.”

“man, Ami is way up there now, I have no chance of catching her. She’s running a smart race. I’m impressed.”

“walking is, of course, out of the question …Like Anton says, a slow shuffle is still faster than a fast walk.”

Mile 22

“Walkers? wow, these are fast looking dudes, too. Went out too fast? S’ok kids, I feel ya…”

“I’m just gonna settle into a comfortable pace and just gut through this.”

Mile 23

“5K to go. Come on ankle. I’ll run straight, upright and land mid, just please don’t rip.”

Mile 24

“there they go, just keep on a’passin’”

{sigh}

“I’m so dead. This is the longest 2-miles of my life. Please just finish…”

Mile 25

“There it is, right? The 25 mile flag?

“wait, it’s not…”

“wait, yes it is… phew, I can’t take this shit anymore.”

“last mile. Can’t punk out. Gotta find a good finishing gear…”

“Hold on, there she is again. I saw this skinny chick awhile back. I’m gonna catch her.”

“Don’t speed up. Its futile. I’m gonna get you.”

“Dude, really, machismo right now? You just got smoked by a slew of folks. You’re racing now?”

“Doing it anyway…”

Mile 26

“There’s the finish, where’s Babette?”

“I don’t see her.”

“Oh well, who cares? I’m finished. I’m going to eat everything in sight.”

{looking up at the finish clock}

“Cool, 3:37.”

Update: After writing this post, I did in fact do the 2011 Thanksgiving Atlanta Half Marathon and it went surprisingly well. At the last minute, after some nudging, I switched out the Vibrams for the Hoka Bondi shoe. I wrapped the ankle with a small amount of sticky tape, laced ‘em up tight, and started out trying the 5/1, run/walk thing.

That run/walk stuff is no good for me, but I did find an easy sub-9 pace that was just right and prevented any ankle aggravation. I set the body at that cruising speed and just clipped off the miles one by one, pain-free.

1:52 (8:43/mile) – 22 minutes slower than my Half Marathon PR, but obviously I’ll take it!

photo: a couple of hours after my spill. Worry sets in.

Injury Sucks

For those who have somehow ducked my whining and balloon-ankle photos on Facebook, I am currently in the middle of my first real injury of my running “career”; and while I’m sure there is no optimal timing for any kind of injury, mine happened right towards the latter end of a strong, productive period of fast marathon training where I was showing solid improvement each and every week.

Having brought my half-marathon time down to 1:30, and with 5-weeks yet to peak for that sub-3 marathon at Rocket City, December 10, I did the most stupid thing a marathon trainee could do – raced a short, 15K trail race.

Cruising downhill, and having a couple of close calls and all-out falls already, I was wondering to myself if racing this thing was really a good idea or not… then, C-R-A-C-K, OOMPH!  I stepped in a hidden, leaf-covered hole, heard a snap, and dropped to the ground crawling around and screaming at the top of my lungs like a wounded seal.

All those heart-exploding speed training episodes, the half-marathon PRs, those sadistically painful, yet pleasurable, workouts where I swore Jennifer Vogel, my coach, was trying to kill me…

Just like that. Game over.

Oh, But it Gets Better

RICE, they say…

Well, this is what happens when an idiot like me, with great intentions, tries to follow directions…

I frost bit my own $%* ! foot. Say hello to my blistered ice burn:

photo: cool. freeze-burning my skin as an added bonus. Swelling, at its worst.

I blame the seven Vicodin the day after; and yes, they were prescribed.

Well, not seven, but, well, you know how it goes…

I felt no pain.

I should never do drugs. Any drugs. I do not know moderation.

A Student of Discovery

It’s sort of a paradox, really. I’m well known for being unconventional, hard-headed, arrogant and a little crazy in my thinking. People much smarter than me advise me. I don’t listen. Doctors, other runners, friends, family, they all experience this with me. Some continue, some give up.

(thanks to those who don’t give up, by the way)

I’ll bet I’ve seen more head-shaking and gotten more “told ya so” comments and emails than anyone else on earth.

Thing is, I’m a student of discovery. The proverbial “gotta touch the stove to see if it’s hot” kinda dude. I really don’t believe anything until I experience it, and usually, the way my brain works, believe the opposite until I prove otherwise.

It’s a disease.

Enter Vibram Five Fingers

I had pretty much written off Vibrams. For one, it’s not really barefoot training. Barefoot training is “without shoes”, and I live in the city, so when I want to train barefoot for all its benefits, I train barefoot on a treadmill to avoid debris, rocks and glass.

Second, ironically, new Vibram models are starting to look more like shoes. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I find that my Mizuno Wave Universe, or my all-time favorite, the Saucony A4 racing flats work best.

But, once I could walk again, though still hobbling, limping around with my lower lip all poked out and sad, I came to realization that I was most comfortable, with less pain, when I was barefoot.

Desperate to run, and yes out of better judgement from docs and friends, I tried running about five (5) days into recovery – and everything hurt. Even big-ass, balloon Hokas hurt like crap, and out of all of my shoes, and I have a lot, they were the absolute worst with this injury.

But, off in the corner, still stained with a little dog poop stuck to ‘em from when one of the new puppies found the same corner, were the old Vibram Classics. Quite a bit dusty, with a couple of small rips in the toes, and a little curled-up from lack of use, but still wearable – and just as damn hard to put on.

I chuckled at how goofy they looked, ‘cuz, I’m sorry, but Vibram Classics really are ridiculous looking shoes, and I stepped on the treadmill to give it a go.

Day 11 of Recovery

And, I haven’t worn anything else on my feet since.

photo: Day 11, Hoping they carry me 13.1 tomorrow in the Atlanta Thanksgiving Half-Marathon.

An Idiot’s Guide to Why This is Working

I promise, I don’t know anything. I’m really, really stupid when it comes to doing the “right” things for training and recovery, so take all this with a grain of salt; but as this student of discovery thing I talked about, I think I have some good ideas why this is working so well for me:

1. I have a neutral gait. Therefore, I do not need any stability or corrective orthodics.
2. Because of this neutral gait, when barefoot, my foot is in its most natural state.
3. In Vibram Classics, my feet stay flat and as close to ground as possible.
4. Because of this more natural state, and low center of gravity, my foot is never being pulled, pushed, nor sliding around in any one direction that causes pain or aggravates the ligaments further.
5. The Classics have a super wide collar. This prevents any squeezing of the foot or tender ankle.
6. This lack of collar-squeezing, combined with increased foot freedom discourages additional swelling

Here’s the thing: I think shoes, and especially the huge sole-lift of the Hokas, were hurting me because they squeezed my foot and created instability. Even folks without injury have complained that the Hokas created instability for them, so it only makes sense that the same would be the case WITH injury.

When your ankle is that sensitive, even the slightest movement in the direction of, or away from, the injury center is enough to cause agonizing pain and aggravate the ankle sprain even worse.

What do you think? Am I crazy?

Ready for Even More Stupidity?

Tomorrow will be day 12 of recovery, and I’ve decided I’m still running the Atlanta Half Marathon.

…in Vibram Classics, of course.

I’ve never run more than six miles in them, so this should be interesting.

I know, I know, but would you consider thinking I’m less stupid if I said I’m running side by side with my wife? She doesn’t “race”, but instead runs 5:00 and walks 1:00, over and over again, until she finishes. I think it’s called the Galloway Method, but she could care less if it was called the jack sh!t method. I get the biggest kick out of Babette’s approach to running. No real training, no stress, no outrageous goals, no ego – just all fun and smiles and games.

She’s also never had a DNF.

I suspect if I can complete the full 13.1 in Vibrams, at her pace, I’m looking at 2:30 minimum on that hilly intown course.

Ugh.

But who cares? At least I’m running, and while I love to run fast, It’ll be cool to chill alongside Babette for this Thanksgiving event.

Next Steps

I know a lot of people think I’m nuts, but I’m used to it. If I’m wrong in my approach, then I have to live with it, no one else; but aren’t we are always told to go with our gut and do what feels right?

This feels right.

I believe that I can heal myself actively and nutritionally. Like an animal.

The moping game is over. The sadness is over. The “woe is me” is OVER.

I have to try it my way because I believe its the right way for me.

Maybe not everyone - Hell, maybe not anyone…

But it feels like its right for me.

Eye on the sub-3 at Mercedes

So nope, I won’t get to chase that 2:55 marathon goal at Rocket City, and while that really bums me the #$%! out, I’ll just set my sights a little further out in the year and come back with a furious focus.

I can do that. I will do that. And if you’re a betting kinda person, put your money on me.

But I’m still running Rocket City, and even though he’s been training like Rocky IV in Russia, I’m still gonna beat the crap outta’ Weezy.

Whatcha got, kid? Come get me. The prey is wounded, sucka.

After a challenging training run this morning, I found myself listening to a little Cat Stevens, and every single song that came on made me somehow apply the sentiments to running.

I’m so #$%$! addicted, and you get to hear all about it:

Can’t Keep It In

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gb_03LP55Lc

-

Every new training day is like a completely new beginning.

Every single one.

The night before training, I lie in bed and think about the ways that I am going to push through the tough stuff, make my feet go faster, push those hips out further …and let ‘er rip.

I imagine it, picture it. Run through it over and over in my mind.

“Remember to smile, “ I say to myself, “It makes it easier.”

I remind myself how lucky I am that I have this ability. Not rock star ability, but just simply the ability to run. Flinging my body through the air, catching it, and doing it again.

I am healthy, happy, excited and living life to the fullest. Setting new goals and chasing them with a passion that consumes me.

It never gets old.

There’s always the next challenge, the next step, the next level.

I refuse to settle.

I’m really enjoying …running fast.

Where Do the Children Play

www.youtube.com/watch?v=PiiZrZTrOFY

-

Sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with me.

…and then, I ride the train, or walk into work, or view the people on the sidewalks, and I wonder what’s wrong with them.

No one plays anymore. Everything is so serious.

Drivers honking, middle fingers flying. Silence on the elevators. Silence on the train. Impatience in grocery store lines. Chest-thumping arguments on Facebooks.

It’s all so exhausting. …and kinda sorta sad.

But my training is my play time.

Aggressive play that fatigues me enough to rival any pharmaceutical calming alternative.

It frees me from all the angst and worry and frustrations and social banter that means absolutely, positively 100% nothing.

It reminds me of the joy of my family -- which is 100% everything. It reminds me that I am free. I can move my body and feel good whenever I want to and nothing else matters but the sound of my breath, the beating in my chest, and the form of my body. Constantly scanning, evaluating, adjusting, so the pace never falls.

And if it does, so what, there’s always tomorrow.

Sitting (but only for second ‘cuz on my way)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrDHysMdu6U

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I am working extra super duper crazy hard.

I have huge goals.

Training for this 2:55 marathon has been an humbling, dramatic series of incredibly challenging training runs.

And with only 39 days of training left,  I’m still way behind.

I need to be at a sub-38:00 10K, but I’m only at 39.

I need to be at a 1:25 half-marathon, but I raced a 1:30 five days ago.

And while the math shows my marathon at more like 3:10 at best, I’m not going to give up.

If I can train myself to run 20 miles at 6:53 without falling apart, I can force a progressive run for an additional 6.2, I know I can.

And even if it ends up that I can’t, then I will try again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

This is the most fun, I’ve ever had in my life.

“After a recent race, I received an email from a nutrition company representative asking if I would be interested in trying their Natural Vitality sports nutritional products”

And so I did.

The Natural Vitality Products Tested

First off, I would like to thank the company for selecting me as someone they found interesting enough to review their products. Sure it’s smart SEO (if you know what that means), but it also shows a strong level of confidence in your product offerings.

Each product is based on natural, organic food – mostly fruits and vegetables high in vitamins, aminos, and anti-oxidants. It’s all food (or juice) that one can buy at any health food store, but it’s rare to have access to such a wide variety, and in such convenient packaging.

Here are the products I tested:

• NutraRev: billed as, “Antioxidant and Energy Booster”
• Energy 28: energy product based on Golden Chlorella, “a unique nutrient-dense, ultra-pure, mild-tasting microalgae that provides naturally occurring amino acids.”
• Organic Life: a liquid-based multi-vitamin as a combination of both fruits and added vitamins
• Natural Calm: a magnesium supplement

I took all of the products every day, and some of the NutraRev and Energy 28 multiple times a day as recommended.

The Good

• The products are easy  and convenient
• They taste good
• There is no fake feel or supplement after-taste
• The products are based on real, whole organic foods

The Bad {or, perhaps “questionable”}

• I can’t help but be concerned that there is no accountability for proof of quality
• I am skeptical whenever products create their own trademark brands of common food blends
• The product marketing makes me uncomfortable. Anti-aging? Really?
• Serving quantities are very small

The Outcome

All this build up just to simply say that I have decided that I am generally indifferent.

While I applaud the approach, I can’t get around the marketing. As someone who has been around sports supplementation my entire life, I know excessive product marketing when I see it.

Over-promising runs rampant in the supplementation world. For example, as I mentioned above, calling a food product “anti-aging” really bothers me. Creates immediate distrust for me as a consumer.

However, the products never made me feel bad, and in fact, the magnesium supplement is something that I really enjoy taking before bed. But, is it truly helping me? I don’t know. I researched magnesium supplementation and found that I don’t suffer from any of the conditions that necessitate really needing it – but I’ll admit, it does make me feel calm at night.

Placebo effect? Maybe.

All-in-all, I would continue to use the products if they were free simply because, assuming the products are truly organic and wholesome, I enjoy having access to them in these concentrated forms; however, without truly experiencing any real noticeable effects during my one-month review trial, I can not rationalize paying the high price.

That’s my honest opinion.

Would you be interested in trying out our sports nutrition products for ultrarunners and triathletes and post a review if you found them beneficial?

We have an energy shot for endurance athletes made from organic and whole-food ingredients called Energy28, Organic Life Vitamins our liquid multi-nutrient essential for athlete health and an anti-cramping and muscle recovery formula called Natural Calm.

I shot back that I am always stoked to try new things; and as long as I was not going to be directed by the company on what to say in my review, or how I wrote about my experience with the products, I was all for it.

They agreed, …so I agreed.

A Box Arrives

I almost forgot about the exchange with the company until this big box arrives at my office stuffed with all kinds of interesting bottles, packets, and stacks of information.

I read all the information that came with the products, reviewed the ingredients, and decided that there was no harm in trying these products. Here’s why:

• The products are primarily organic
• Except for the CALM product, all ingredients are derived from whole foods
• There are very little calories in any of the products

So, what the Hell, right? Let’s see if it makes me feel any different.

A Little Skeptical?

Yes, I am.

As someone who works in advertising, I cringe when I see product labels designed by someone who went crazy with Photoshop filters. To me, it instantly lacks professionalism – as if the company couldn’t afford quality branding help, so they shot the project to a graphic artist in a basement somewhere.

The return address on the box was an office park, in suite #4, and I just picture some slick infomercial-type dude, in Palm Springs, pulling up in his BMW to check on the day’s shipping numbers to suckers.

But, I guess that’s not fair to the company nor the products – but I’m just being honest.

Image and first impressions are important.

Lastly, I ran to the web to see if I could find other athlete experiences – positive or negative – and learned quickly that the company spends HUGE resources on reputation and search engine management. I am a pro at finding things on the ‘net and am equally experienced in search engine optimization and brand management. I could tell right away that this company recognizes the powerful benefits of managing, and somewhat controlling, the information people will find about their products.

Full speed ahead

All that being said, I’m trying the Natural Vitality products and will be the latest guinea pig for the running community. The things I do for y’all…

{grins}

I will take the products every day, and barring any wonky, negative effects, will take notes and report back here after approximately one month with a thorough and complete review of my experience(s).

Stay tuned…

When I stumbled back to the bed, our 120lb pit-bull mixed breed female had moved from the foot of the bed, where she takes all my feet-room each and every night, to the little bit of space I do manage to carve out between my wife, two dogs, 5 pillows and stacks of blankets.

And she won’t move for nutin’.

Over the years, I have spent thousands of dollars on rescue dogs, and opened my home to the joys of chewed up home furnishings, window sills and running shoes. I’ve been through the canine surgeries and the traumatic, dramatic deaths that can bring a family to its emotional knees.

I’ve been known to pull over on the road and bury ducks that have been hit by cars, carry insects from inside to outside, and hang out with local geese as they welcomed their babies to our big, bad, busy neighborhood.

Animals. They run my life.

In Defense of Animals

As some people know, I am currently training to run a 2:55 marathon. This training requires much speed work, which I love, and shorty races are great places to work on that speed.

On Saturday, for the second year in a row, I supported the In Defense of Animals organization by running their local 5K race here in Duluth, Georgia – a hilly, 5K race in which every single penny raised goes to the organization.

Did I mention the race is hilly?

But regardless of the hills, the vibe at the race is something that you have to see. There’s something about a large collection of people, all animal lovers and all up early in the morning to both test themselves and support a great cause.

There are dogs everywhere.

And where there are dogs, and people who love dogs, there are smiles and positive vibes ruling the scene.

No frustrations, just excitement.

No grouchy people, just kindred spirits.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Chasing Cross Country Kids

I love 5Ks and I’m getting a little smarter running them.

Because I knew the course was very hilly, I started conservatively, but still ending up with a 5:55 first mile. The course starts downhill, and I knew some of the runners that shot out to the front would whittle down on the climbs.

They did.

I went from 6th place after 2 miles, to 2nd place on the final climb; but it was this fast high school cross country kid that continued to fight me off and refused to let me catch him.

We finished about 5 seconds apart, 19:45 to 19:50, with him holding on to the lead, making for an exciting finish for those watching at the finish tape.

Lastly, making it that much more special was seeing the lovely Mrs. Griffith standing there with two of our mutts and cheering in the runners as well. I have a great family.

Thank You Sarita

So thank you Sarita Raturi for all you do for animals, for putting on such a great race, and for being so nice to me and my family.

As long as we live in the area, we will continue to support your efforts, your organization, and of course that great little hilly 5K.

Holla!

*** Full Garmin split data