Category Archives: Running

Tennessee’s “Secret Race” is a Beast! #ultramarathon

Wow, this discovery just got the hair standing on my neck. And after combining the insight from my first trail race with the unbelievable information below, I am even more convinced that wilderness runners salute a twisted code that encourages legal forms of masochistic humiliation.

That said, I am currently VERY disappointed about two things:

I’ve never heard of this race.
No one I know has run it (that I know of)

Photo © Geoffrey S. Baker www.geoffreybakerphotography.com (photo links to source)

Here are a few tidbits about this race that I pulled from here:

“Only 14 runners out of about 1000 have finished within the 60 hour cutoff.”

“Runners climb 1,500 feet in the first mile.”

“Humility awaits.”

“Son of a ditch. 10 feet wide, 10 feet deep.”

“Descending Leonard’s Butt Slide. The first few hundred feet are on muddy slopes at a 45 degree angle down to book 3.”

All of these words are attempting to describe the horror that is referred to as The Barkley Marathons — 100 Mile run (and 60 mile fun run) in Frozen Head State Park, Tennessee (which is just outside of Knoxville).

This race is so awesome (yet unknown) the NY Times wrote this piece titled, “Few Know How to Enter; Fewer Finish.”

There’s even a book about it.

What’s also great is this little nugget (posted on an unofficial website) about how to enter the race:

The entry procedure is secret. There is no official website. This is not the official website. This site mostly has pointers back here. The race is not listed on any calendar. You have to email the race director on a certain day of the year. The race will fill up on that day. In 2010 there were about 200 entries and 35 were accepted.

Now, I can honestly say I have zero interest in doing this race, especially after struggling to finish my first trail 1/2 marathon, but I wish someone I know would step up and take the challenge. I mean, only 14 runners have ever finished within the 60 hour cutoff time? That’s ridiculously awesome.

I know a lot of you out there are drooling. Who’s gonna step up?

Run Like a Kid #running

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Note: I wrote this many moons ago, but never posted it.

I am still reading Born to Run and it is an absolute gem of a novel. There is one great story after another, loaded with compelling thoughts on running as well as life. It is especially intriguing to me right now because I am still hobbling a bit after relatively short runs compared to the distances they talk about in this book, which routinely exceed 50 miles at a crack.

Now, I realize I wasn’t “born to run,” or was I? The last chapter I read is mainly focused on the zen of running and what is going on in the mind of the Tarahumara as they glide across the the hilliest of terrain. The thing most people notice when watching Tarahumara run is how happy they seem.

There is a great story, told by Kenneth Chlouber, the founder of one of the world’s most treacherous trail runs, The Leadville 100, that summed it up for me.

Chlouber was hanging out at the 60 mile mark where medical staff checks vitals of runners that reach that point. He said most are starting to get angry by then. The terrain is pulverizing and after getting clearance to continue, runners must hike up a very steep dirt hill to get back on the trail. He said most runners struggle and often crawl to the trail, but the Tarahumara were climbing it like kids, smiling and laughing while they sort of skipped their way to the top.

It was literally like they were still kids. That impulse to have fun while you run had never left them. They ran to run and while the race was clearly a race, they never thought of it that way. It was a new adventure.

Country Music Marathon – New Course

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The organizers of Country Music Marathon in Nashville have changed their course for this year’s race. It used to start at Centennial Park and avalanche its way toward the Honky Tonks on Lower Broadway, but now it will start downtown. There will no longer be that wonderful downhill that inspires and captivates runners as they spill into Music City and not everyone is happy about it, but I think it’s a good move.

Thousands come from out of town for this race and it will make logistics way easier for those staying downtown. It will also make it easier for me, and that’s kinda the real point.

BUT, I think they can still make this race a lot better.

I’ve done the half marathon twice but really have no interest in the full, mainly because of the course. It’s almost like they locked themselves in a room until they created the perfect first half, then, a few days later said, “Oh shit, we need 13 more miles!”

The first half (the half) is great, but after that, the luster quickly fades. I know there are a million road complications, but I feel like this marathon could spend way more time in downtown, giving better exposure to the awesomeness that is Music City AND spectators could see their favorite runners more often.

For example, instead of torturing runners with that Metro Center stretch, the course could utilize more of Germantown which is loaded with cool homes, shops and soon, a sweet new baseball stadium. Just wind the route in and out of the neighborhood known for crepes, hotdogs, and beer, then sit back watch the festivities unfold.

That would be around mile 15 or so and I’d imagine it would thin out enough to roll it back into town on the bike path along the river into downtown. Then bring the runners back up 1st avenue and over Shelby into East Nashville.

And there is certainly more they could do with East Nashville, other than make you run out and back on Davidson Street, which is arguably the ugliest section of town. Take them out Woodland and cut down Eastland toward Family Wash, then back down Riverside into Shelby. Way more awesome than an out and back into the park.

Then circle around in the park a bit and come back down Davidson… better yet, screw Davidson and figure out how to come back through East Nashville. Maybe even Shelby Avenue. So many awesome little neighborhoods and hills. Ohhh… not hills. Yes, hills. Do it . . . make the CMM legit.

The more I run these kinds of races the more I wish they were laid out better for scenery and spectators. I just think the whole Davidson/Metro Center thing is a cop out. I run these streets all the time and nobody wants to run in those places.

Obviously participants don’t care that much because 30,000 people pay a lot of money to run — but in a world where everyone is trying to squeeze out more profit, it would be nice if Competitor went above and beyond to deliver something truly memorable. And while they’re at it, maybe talk with someone at LP field this year so you can let runners into the concourse if it rains.

Running With Momentum

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A friend of mine called the other day and relayed some bad news.

He’s a triathlete and was looking forward to this season, but the pain wasn’t going away. Finally he went for an MRI and they said his knee is shot. No more running.

No more running? Two years ago I may have welcomed that news, but now that I have realized its joys, that sounded like a crushing blow.

He was fairly upbeat and said he could probably do one triathlon this year, but he shouldn’t train by running. Just let it all hang out and deal with the pain later.

Then, of course, he said he could get a new knee.

A new knee?

I always hold out hope that the body can repair itself when treated right, but he didn’t seem so sure. He’ll get some “silicone like” injections that will help his joints move better, but in the end he doesn’t think he’ll be able to rebuild the cartilage he’s lost.

But we did talk about running style and how it can lessen the impact on your joints. Mainly by changing your gate.

It’s not easy, but it’s pretty simple.

Pounding your joints and bones for a long time will cause more damage and I have really thought about this hard since I’ve started running. I have focused on a soft stride on the ball of my foot and a quick lift. The weight of your body will destroy itself over time and the best way to combat that is to reduce impact.

How?

Shorter and more frequent strides. Pick em up and put them down. It just makes sense. The less time your ankle is on the ground the less impact it will absorb.

I remember when I started running as a kid. I had these long ass strides and taxed the crap out of my muscles to run. It was hard to run like that because you’re not using momentum. Now, I think about momentum all the time. Swim, bike, run. What’s harder to stop than momentum?

So much of being able to use momentum is trusting it. In running it is that feeling of “falling forward” that seems intimidating. It’s more about “catching yourself” than pushing off.

Sure, that’s pretty simplistic, but the reality is using momentum makes any sport 50% easier. Momentum is an unspoken force of physics that’s undeniable but runners rarely use it. They tend to land on their heels instead of hinting themselves forward. I’ve heard a 200 lb man landing on his heels actually is like catching 800 lbs. Over time, you can see how this would do damage.

Last summer we were doing one mile intervals around a track. We started slow, then picked up to our half marathon pace. For the last mile I kept pace but decided to run the last two laps as fast as I could. I was hot, spent, and ready to be done. But as hard as those last two laps were on my breathing, I really noticed how much easier it was on my legs. I was picking them up and putting them down. I was trusting the momentum of the run. It was almost literally like I was flying. I didn’t feel the pain of the steps like I had for the previous 10 miles. I was floating on air.

I was also in pretty good shape, but it makes you wonder. The less you pound, the less it will hurt. Are you trusting the momentum?

Like “The Flying Monkey” Isn’t Hard Enough

How Do You Follow Up a 110 Mile Bike Ride?

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Sometimes you get a sense that everything is fine, and that’s how I felt after Saturday’s 110 mile ride on Natchez Trace. It was my longest cycling experience by nearly 40 miles, but for some reason I wasn’t nearly as wiped as any of these much shorter rides. I have a feeling it had a lot to do with nutrition, but also increased mileage an fitness.

As we ate the post-ride meal at Corner Pub, I could tell I was tired, but it wasn’t one of those beat down exhausted moments. Robbie, Jim, Allison, Wasky, and Marc chatted around me and I had a renewed energy for Ironman Wisconsin. It started with a break-thru swim on Friday, now 110 miles (half in pouring rain) on the Trace, what would be next?

On to Sunday.

Those first few steps out of bed can be telling. I shuffled to the bathroom and was amazed I could stand. I fully expected to put off my two hour “easy ride” to the afternoon, but I felt surprisingly good at 8 am. Let’s do this.

I started sipping Perform and did so for about an hour until I clipped into the bike. Then it was off to Zone 1 (I’m still not quite sure what that is) for a trip to the Dam and back. Rebekah joined me and it was nice to take in some scenery after yesterday’s blazing ride that glued my eyes to a rubber tire.

I didn’t “push it,” but did do a little slow climbing to work things out. I felt pretty good and as we coasted down the street toward home I realized I had been sitting on my Adamo race seat for 8 hours in the last calendar day.

But it wasn’t over.

I was gonna do a straight up brick, but was advised to take an hour, so I ate a peanut butter/jelly sandwich with some chips and salsa. (Triathlon cravings are ridiculous).

Then, I had a big decision. Which shoes should I wear?

Most of my runs have been in Pearl Izumi Streaks (which are now out of print) but after a problem at Muncie, I bought Mizunos that I thought I liked, but am not so sure after a few runs. The Pearl’s were my main squeeze until Muncie but my feet started burning like nobody’s business and I dropped them like they were hot, literally. THEN, I got the same burning sensation from my bike trainer ride a couple weeks later and realized I was wearing the same socks that I wore in Muncie. Hmm… could it be the socks??

The Mizunos felt great at first, but after a few runs they seemed a little too stiff and my left foot would start slapping the pavement after 5 miles or so. Something just wasn’t right, so yesterday, I pulled out the trusty Pearls and set out on my two hour run.

This was supposed to be a build/feel run. 30 minute easy, 30 faster, 30 faster, then cool down for 30. My Garmin didn’t charge so I was relegated to a chrono watch and this process was not easy. I tried to use the mile markers on the Greenway, but kept forgetting times and whatnot, so I just worked on a steady pace with small gains in effort.

I have no idea how far I ran, but it felt far and my legs were dead. This was the indicator day for me. This is how it will feel on September 8th . . . probably worse. Legs shot and all you have left is your mind to carry your marathon. I’m guessing I hit 13 miles and the thought of another 13 was daunting . . . but didn’t seem out of the question.

So, now, I put my faith in the conditioning that is left and the taper that will follow. How will 112 miles and a marathon feel with strong and fresh legs? The same, better, worse? I guess time will tell.

Running in Nashville – The Nasty

I Am Not “A Runner”

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There’s no question that running began my cascade into full-blown-endurance-obsession, but I can no longer sit back and let people say, “I love following your little running journey,” without some genuine repercussions.

I do like running and it is often my favorite workout, but I am not “just” a “runner.” I have a bunch of friends who only run, and while I love them, they are a little off.

They just get up in the morning and run! That’s what they do! Then they’ll run some more. It’s pretty awesome, but kinda crazy!

Then they’ll sit around after a run and talk about running in an endless conversation that goes something like this:

“Hey, How was your run?”

“Pretty good. Foot hurt a little.”

“That sucks. When you running again?”

“Oh, probably tomorrow.”

“Cool, me too.”

“Yeah, I’ve been running a lot.”

“I just love finding that zone.”

“Yes!”

“You just keep running and running.”

“I know! It’s so amazing.”

“People don’t always understand it.”

“Yeah, too bad for them.”

High five.

“They just don’t know what they’re missing.”

“I never used to like running, but it’s just so free and easy.”

“Yes, I think about running all day at work.”

“Me too!”

“I was sidelined for a couple weeks with an IT band, but now it feels great, as long as I don’t push it on hills.”

“Yeah, I used to hate hills, but now I love them.”

“Me too! It’s where I pass the most people!”

High Five.

“I just love seeing people slow down on a hill.”

“I know!”

Silence.

“So when’s your next race?”

“I’m doing “Bird Walk Reservoir Weed and Feed 6K”

“Oh, that’s a great one, cool distance!”

“I just love it, and it’s cheap! But parking’s a bit of an issue.”

“Yeah, I always get there early and run a mile or so first.”

“And they have great ice cream!”

“Yes!”

“I feel like as much as I run I deserve a little ice cream.”

“We burn so many calories.”

“We are pretty awesome.”

Soft high five over a coffee cup.

——————–

Oh, now. I’m just kidding. Triathletes are just as ridiculous. We get trapped in similarly benign conversation about water temperature and bike seats that don’t make your under parts go numb. We ramble on about splits and transition times like it’s straight out of something people give a shit about.

Not only that, runners are nicer than triathletes. Don’t even think about asking a favor while sitting around in Transition before a triathlon. You might get the answer, but it will be returned with a stink eye that says, “I am going to kill you today, punk.” Well, that’s mainly the young kids with great equipment they didn’t have to pay for, but feel violated if you ask them for a squirt of anti-fog for your swim goggles.

But, like most things, people who act like they know something, probably don’t know jack shit. And I will happily accept being placed in that category, but please don’t call me a runner.

Revisiting My First Country Music 1/2 Marathon

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They told me I wouldn’t sleep much . . . and they were right. The Saturday before I had run the furtherst distance of my life, eight miles. It was a painful lumber in the rain with my fellow “Couch to 5K Graduate,” Grant, on the flattest of Greenways. Now, I was standing with 30,000 other people convincing myself I could go 5.1 miles further on what many consider one of the tougher 1/2 marathon courses.

I stood next to my buddy Roger (who was also running his first 1/2) contemplating whether or not I could make it through the bathroom line in time to get back for the start. I passed and hoped the feeling would go away. Roger and I had the same goal of around 2:10 and started this journey together after a late night photograph revealed we were both turning into whales. We trained on our own, but this race was in our sights for months. His strategy was to listen to three songs with the same cadence over and over on his iPod to keep pace. Mine was to keep running.

The gun went off and our corral inched its way toward the starting mat. I was cold, had to piss, and was suddenly feeling very intimidated by the idea of running so far. I stayed with Roger for about three blocks and his methodical precision started pulling away. My biggest fear was starting too fast, so I purposely went slow, and soon . . . Roger was gone.

It didn’t take long before I started feeling the reality of a 1/2 marathon. As I got to the top of the infamous Demonbreun Street hill, I was barely 3 miles in and apparently falling asleep. This was a risk that seemed like it was sure to have a bad ending.

But, I was on a mission and started using hallucinations to my advantage. For some reason, I thought I had really picked up the pace and started spotting Roger every couple blocks. I’d see him just within striking range and pour on the muscle with plans of flying by with a big back slap on the way. But every time I got close, I realized it wasn’t him. My haphazard racing style was no match for his West Point style of discipline.

For the first 9 miles or so, I was in pain, but nothing like I was about to face at mile 10. I rounded the corner in the Gulch and hit an absolute wall. In all my years of athletics, I have never experienced such a physical meltdown. My legs basically shut off. Instead of running I began to shuffle, and as you can see from the above photo, I was one of the sexier specimens on the course at this time. They wound us into Bicentennial Park and before cutting left toward the finish line, the organizers dropped in a couple of turnarounds that absolutely ground my soul into mush. It took every fiber of my being not to walk.

My shins felt like they may literally crumble at any moment and it wouldn’t have surprised me if there were razor blades in my shorts slicing into my thighs with every step. With less than a mile to go and a downhill ahead to take me home, I still wasn’t sure I could make it without walking. Each step felt like I was putting my foot into a cauldron of boiling acid and that downhill would prove to be one of the more excruciating jaunts of my life. From watching several marathons in the past I remembered the finish line being on the other side of the stadium, but through the grace of God, I was nearly brought to tears when I my creaky ankles turned at the bottom of the hill and pointed at the finish line a mere 50 yards away. I saw the photographers hovering above ready to capture my glorious moment and put every ounce of energy I had left into raising my arms for the photo op.

I was on the verge of fainting and these two girls didn’t seem to give one shit about the fact that my eyes were rolling back into my head. The good news was, that about 10 steps after the finish line, I found myself immersed in a claustrophobic sea of humanity, which may have been the biggest challenge of the race. I was a lost boy without a home (or a medal) and instinctively started shouting “Yo Roger” in the voice of Stallone looking for Adrian.

Eventually I got my medal and found Roger. We were the proudest two guys on the block and immediately started asking people if they were using their extra beer tickets. It was like 9:30 and we were putting them back like true Wisconsin born lumberjacks. We were so impressed with our feats that we wore those medals all day and night. He finished about 5 minutes in front of me and eventually went on to run a full later that year in Huntsville before moving to the Key’s to be a full-time musician. It was quite the memory, and in 3 days, I will be on that same course. No Roger, no fear, and hopefully no pain.

Tom King Half Marathon

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Today, part of the Fab 5 +1 went out to help at the Nashville Running Company water stop for the Tom King 1/2 Marathon. Jim, Kevin, and Alli rode their trainer bikes for inspiration, I handed out water, and Daniel decided he was gonna bust a groove on the course. Mark was taking care of his daughter.

It was a beautiful morning for running, mid-50s, a little overcast, and it served Daniel well as he nailed down the fastest Fab 5 half marathon time of 1:33:30. A great time that beat his best time by over 2 minutes. We are all getting stronger and faster by the day and, as good as it is, I anticipate that number will be beat by someone in the group soon. He’s set the new goal for a 1/2 and it’s 1:30. Who’s gonna get it?

Jim, Kevin, and Alli put in two hours on the trainer then the guys rode the road for another hour. I left, joined them for breakfast, then put in a couple hour ride on the Greenway. It was a really nice day and the ride was great except for the throngs of people walking on the BIKE PATH!

Actually, I’m kidding. They deserve to be out there and quite frankly I get a tad annoyed at bikers when I’m running, so, oh well. Everyone, including me has to chill.

I have to say, the first outside ride kicked my ass a little. Yesterday’s swim was lurking and I just haven’t been feeling it. Tomorrow we’re going for a two hour jaunt on Natchez Trace and while my legs are saying no, I love that I’m able to get off the trainer.

Here are a few pics from the race today. Hope you’re having a great weekend.