A Fly on the Wall of Ambiguity

Upon returning from crewing at Western States 100 this past weekend I revisited - again - the "why's" of 100 milers. So I dug up some old thoughts on this topic that happen to still ring true... and most likely will for you...

(from July '05)

For an experienced ultra-runner, pacing another runner in a 100 mile trail race is like being a fly on the wall of one’s own chosen abyss of suffering. I had yet another opportunity to experience that genre of voyeurism in the Vermont 100 two weeks ago. My friend and training partner, Kevin, signed up for this race as his first 100 and asked me to escort him the last 32 miles to the finish.

The concept of “pacing” a runner in a 100 mile race was conceived as a means to keep a compromised and late-in-the-game delusional, athlete safe during the literal and emotional darkest sections of an event. Since those who run 100 milers frequently enter challenging altered states and severe bouts of physical and psychological discomfort, pacing was designed as a way to guide a runner to his destination while lowering the incidence of face plants, passing out on the trail and choking on one’s own vomit, wandering off trail into a void, and therefore not making it safely to the finishline. I summarized pacing to my rookie Western States pacer this year as, “I am the drunk person at the party who is trying to have a good time, and you are the designated driver. Your job is to keep me safe so I can party on.”

The pacer makes sure the runner is eating and drinking properly, she encourages the runner in his labored efforts to run and helps keep the body and mind moving forward positively. The pacer constantly negotiates silence and what she should say to the runner in a “walking-on-egg-shell-type” relationship in which verbal expression is carefully planned and executed.

Pacing is sort of like a mini adventure race except that one of the teammates is really messed up and the other is fresh, and the two only go as fast as the messed up one can manage. If the pacer is fit, she sees the experience very clearly, can multi-task easily, and keep pace without effort.

A pacer will escort the runner for 30, 40, or 50 miles+. This distance depends on the difficulty of the course and, therefore, when a runner is expected to hit sunset. Strange things happen for runners when the lights go out. Pace slows, perceptions change, motivation can wane and most definitely decision making is altered. In an otherwise crazy moment in a runners race, the pacer can become the voice of reason and calm during that last stretch of darkness and/or sunrise to the finish line.

For an experienced ultra-runner, pacing is like looking in the mirror of ones own usual race condition and the reflection most often isn’t pretty. As with most all 100 mile racers, Kevin struggled a bit and then a lot the last 20 miles of his race. He grew sullen, he had fits of temper, laughter and frustration, he ran courageously and solidly, he walked with difficulty and through it all he pressed on. I watched in fascination the expected demise of an otherwise strong and capable athlete. 100 miler’s reduce humans to a throbbing mono-focus and the pacer gets to take it all in with enthrallment.

The pacer observes this odd spectacle and asks, yet again, why she herself chooses to partake in this nature of difficulty. And somehow through the ache she sees something bright and worthwhile. She sees the rawness of the person, the undercoat, the warrior, the peeled away layers of self. And she realizes that this type of exposure could very well be the authenticity that eludes most people in life—the epiphany of who we truly are. A 100 mile race is a personal measurement of success that is very honest and pure. Perhaps the rawness of the human, striped down to nerves and blood and emotion is the genuine essence of self. And through the dirt and the sweat it all seems simply worthwhile and unavoidable for those who chose to live in a world of ambiguity and challenge.

Post race, I asked Kevin what was different in this race from other Ironmans or 50 milers in which he had participated. He said it was this raw pain. During and post race, he had experienced a unique and novel means of suffering. A unique and novel means of tapping into depth—a primitiveness. For him it was an affirmation of who he was as an athlete. And just a couple weeks post race—he’s already planning the next challenge. Amen.

No Turd Left Behind

gorgeous summit day in '05!

In light of my climb on Mt Shasta this coming weekend, I wanted to revisit a post from my last Shasta climb a few years back. Enjoy!

August '05

In their quest to eliminate human waste on the otherwise picturesque and pristine Mt. Shasta, the rangers who manage that 14+k high mountain in Northern California are right on target…literally.

Along with a $20 summit permit a climber is required to acquire a “poop kit” (my name for it) at any ranger kiosk on the mountain before further ascension. The kit includes two brown paper bags that liken the lunch receptacle of an elementary school student. What would otherwise house a PBJ, chips, an apple, and a note from mom, on Mt. Shasta hosts a cup of kitty litter.

In addition to the litter-filled-bags, the kit includes a place mat sized piece of paper with a target printed on it. The target has various circles—smaller circles inside of bigger. The objective of the target-user/poop-maker is to hit the center while using. Hitting the center of the target makes poop wrap up a potentially cleaner prospect. You are also given an instruction sheet (as big as the target) outlining this recommended method of poop gathering. This allows you to read about poop gathering, while poop gathering. Very efficient. All items for the poop kit are enclosed in a large plastic bag.

The climber carries the poop kit up onto the mountain, deposits poop onto target, wraps target into a neat package and places package into kitty litter filled brown bag. Brown bag is put into global poop kit plastic bag and carried off the mountain back to garbage receptacles at ranger kiosk. Thus the mountain and mountaineers are pleased to enjoy snow, scree and glaciers as they are meant to exist—No Turd Left Behind.

During my recent trip to the top of Shasta with a few buddies, I found this method of poop gathering effective (barring high winds). Not only were we required to have our poop kit on us at all times, but any roving ranger we encountered on the mountain asked us if this were so. The rangers were NOT interested in seeing our climbing permits—they only asked us if we had poop kit in tow. No Turd Left Behind Enforcement at it’s best.

The only downside to the otherwise organized and enforced No Turd program was that poop kits housed only 2 kitty-litter-filled brown bags and 1 target. For multiple turd leavers, this posed a problem. I did not see a reasonable way to re-use the target and have a seamless poop experience. If one had an overactive colon due to food or exertion or altitude, the two bag policy was not sufficient. Multiple bags/litter/targets were needed in order for a 1.5-2 day climber to honor the No Turd policy.

Mt. Shasta rangers—great work at this noble cause! Offer a few more amenities in your poop kits, your No Turd Left Behind policy will be flawless and this beautiful mountain remain in tact. Climb on!

Going Longer – In a Different Dimension

The past few months I’ve been posting perspectives on Going Longer (than you’ve gone before) in endurance sport. I’ve touched on the central concepts of adaptation and patience, revering the chosen new distance, shifting views of success and solidifying your mental game, for your new endeavor. These are all aspects of ultra endurance sport I’ve worked to harness over the years, recently highlighting them in my book, Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration. And in current months they’ve taken on an unwanted different dimension in my life.

I’ve watched many of you plan your upcoming seasons, gain the confidence to sign up for exciting new events, build your base, and see results from your commitment to training. This is the process that keeps me psyched and motivated as a coach—to see you, building a bigger you. And because I am typically taking on the same process for a compelling upcoming adventure, I’ve been asked frequently, “Terri, what are you training for?”

My response right now, “I’m training for life.”

There has never been a time when those trite words were truer.

Due to my Achilles tendon injury it has been 7 months and 4 days since I’ve gone on a “real” run. This is by far the longest period that I have not run for 38 years and it has required me to see shifts in my body and my psyche. In most ways I have not accepted, but conceded to my predicament. But in all ways I have made intriguing swings to different dimensions in my life.

Though I’d rather be running in Namibia, climbing a mountain, or training for a 100 mile trail race, I cross-train patiently and live vicariously through others doing the long stuff. I am even reticent to plan a future adventure, as having that big carrot on the horizon may cause me to push my leg before its ready. Yes, I have struggled with these requirements. Mostly I have learned that I can either remain in the struggle, or, I can accept and face the struggle while focusing on different areas of my little world. I don’t flail gracefully, so I’ve chosen the latter.

My vision is that I am circumambulating all other dimensions of Gong Longer and will come full circle in the near future and start prepping for a big novel physical endeavor (that I have already formulated).  As my good friend Charlie Engle says, some of us don’t wish to do things that we know we can do. I think for some, Going Longer requires us to toe the start line to a goal with a huge dose of physical ambiguity.

In the meantime I am going longer in my professional life, pushing forward new business projects and spending time on two new book proposals—all with no immediate financial return—in the worst economy we could muster. If I can’t experience the mood swings of a big mountain, I’ll settle for rolling the dice financially while enjoying my continued driving force toward the right passion focus for my current life. I’d like to round the bend at the end of the summer with a new book deal, a couple new biz projects in place, and ready to take on my next bout with physical ambiguity. We’ll see how it plays out.

In the meantime, if you have been physically sidelined and required to change dimensions in how you Go Longer in your life, I’d love to hear how that’s going for you. If you are solid physically and opting to Go Longer in your endurance life this season, I’d love to live vicariously through your goal!

 

Going Longer Part 8: Patience is a Virtue

Runners do not hit the wall in a marathon because of the distance; they hit the wall at mile 18, 20, or 22 because they either had an inadequate fuel plan, their training was insufficient for the distance, or they were not patient in their pacing of the distance.

Just as going longer requires your fuel plan to be dialed in, it also obliges you to be prudent in your early race pace. “My pace felt too easy the first 10 miles, so I went a bit faster than I had planned” is a common comment from wall-hitting marathoners.

Of course it’s going to feel easy at the beginning! The best pace for you to run is the pace you can evenly sustain--for the entire 26.2 miles. To hold this pace at the beginning of the event feels effortless, so it is critical that you are incredibly patient with this early effort. If you are not patient and not hitting your correct pace, you will not only slow down toward the end of the race, you may slow down significantly--1, 2, or more minutes per mile.

The place in triathlon where many forget to heed the virtue of patience is on the bike. Again I hear, “I felt so good on the bike, but my run didn’t go so well.” Triathlon is a swim, bike, and run event. So if you have a blazing swim and bike and blow up on the run, it won’t matter if your bike was the fastest of the day for your age group--your finish line result will be disappointing.

The longer you race in triathlon, the more patience is required. An inappropriately paced bike leg in an Ironman can leave a 3:30 marathon runner doing the Ironman shuffle on the run course. Because I have done so many long events, “patience” is one of the words I use in training to bring myself to a place of global reflection of my race. In Ironman events, patience often meant I put my blinders on during the bike leg. Being super fit and tapered for an Ironman equates to feeling like you are on fire on the bike. This is an exquisitely fun sensation but one that needs to be kept in perspective if you wish to have a strong total race experience.

When I said “patience” to myself, it would be my cue to look straight ahead and not at the people passing me. I would check in with my pace, given the distance left and the marathon looming, and I would relax into my own race plan.

Going Longer Part 7: Refine Your Fuel Plan

The human body can, amazingly, move forward for a few hours with little to no fuel. But if you go longer than a few hours without adequate calories, electrolytes, and water, you’ll be forced to walk, or stop. I’ve seen athletes complete international distance events on a couple hundred calories or less. I’ve seen people complete half-Ironmans on a bit more than that, but in both of these cases, they didn’t have their best race, and there is a high probability they felt very poorly post-race, and perhaps even for a few days after.

The longer you go, the more you are required to fine-tune your fuel plan. Consider adding some protein to your fuel plan, and be hyper-diligent about taking in that fuel on a consistent basis. Toward the end of an Ironman, your body is moving almost solely on what you are consuming. If you miss a food stop or are late in taking in calories or water, you can push yourself over an edge that will be quite challenging to reclaim.

Create a fuel plan that is steady throughout your event--without missing a beat. Missing a feeding in a shorter race may mean that you have a poor performance and a post-race headache. Missing some much-needed calories over the long haul may mean that you miss out on your well-deserved finish line experience.

Going Longer Part's 5/6: Revel in the Experience_Success is Relative

(our continued discussion of Going Longer than we have prior in endurance sports)

Revel in the Experience. A client who recently did his first Ironman in Hawaii had a very poignant goal for the race: “I’m so excited to go to this race, I really just want to race smart and take in the whole experience.” His main objective was to finish the race. It being his first Ironman, he didn’t know how that would play out. So he came up with a plan for pace and fuel, adapted it as needed along the way, and then metaphorically sat back and enjoyed every minute of the experience. The result: a life-changing experience and a desire to go back and do it all over again.

Going longer is a journey of which you’ve never participated. If you allow yourself to put aside all the worry and hype and revel in the extended experience of your training and the race itself, you may come away with a refreshing view of life and yourself.

Success is Relative. My personal successes in the distances that I have raced or trained are not about you. The way that I define success for me is based on my own experiences and interpretations of their value in my life, and yours need be based on similar criteria--for you.

Your distance-based successes and accomplishments are relative to your own experiences. There is no point in comparing your success to others--they do not live your life, nor you theirs. Each of us will have a definition of success that is relative to our own life. Period.

Going Longer Part 4: Embrace the Mental Game

The longer you go, the more critical your need to embrace your mental game. Having your goals laid out and your self-talk dialed in will not just help you have a faster time, they may make or break your ability to finish a race of novel distance.

When you train or race for several hours or more, you have no choice but to keep yourself company in your mind. You can be the negative, energy-sucking training partner, or you can be the helpful, rational training partner. The time you spend, or not, refining your mental game will decide who shows up in your head on race day.

Just about anyone can get through a sprint- or international-distance race with the negative training partner chatting in their head, but it takes a mentally trained athlete to dial that self-talk to positive or rational for 5, 7, or 15 hours. Dial in your mental game, and you’ll be assured to embrace an effective mental companion come race day.

One of my clients, Jill, decided to run her first 50K trail race and she summarized her experience with the following observations: “The mental capacity needed to complete this type of endurance event is monumental. The conversations you have with yourself are fascinating, from all perspectives: ‘This is great.’ ‘Now it isn't.’ ‘That hurts.’ ‘Now it doesn't.’ ‘Can I finish?’ ‘I can do this!’ ‘Look at that, how beautiful.’ ‘Did I really sign up for this?’ ‘Paid for this, no less.’ ‘I'm so lucky to be out here.’ ‘I could be sitting in an office staring at a computer.’

“It's very easy to think ‘I could be done right about now.’ The funny thing is…there's no where to go but forward. So…you go. And go, and go some more. In the end, the reward is beyond measure. Sure the medal and t-shirt are cool, but the sense of accomplishment is quite unexpected. You relive each segment of the race and begin to remember the smallest details about the foliage, the terrain, the people, the snacks, the weather, the sounds, and the feeling. You then realize what you just did and smile.”

Embracing your mental game will offer you the possibility of walking away from all events with a strong sense of personal satisfaction. Ignore your mental game, and a bad day on the roads can turn into what my adventure racing teammate so aptly observes, “A whole lotta pain and suffering.”

Going Longer Part 3: Revere the Distance

When going longer than you have gone before in your sport, do not fear the distance, admire it. And in that, respect yourself for taking on that distance. Celebrate your choice to step up to the line of a difficult event. You are selecting an endeavor most people would never entertain. Congratulations, you’re opting to move away from your comfort zone and learn a great deal.

Any athlete who has chosen to go longer can attest to their getting seriously humbled. If I ever find that I’m a bit too full of my grand fitness or strength, I quietly remind myself of the remaining distance in my race. My first Wasatch 100 trail running race, I felt fresh and strong on the 4000-foot, several-mile climb off the starting line. When noticing my aggressive pace, I immediately reprimanded myself, “Terri, you have 98 miles to go--slow down!” Now that is a quality reality check when going long.

Revel in the distance you are covering, and be humbled by the distance you are covering. These reminders will keep that distance in perfect balance with your race plan.

Going Longer Part 2: Adapt or Fail

In considering going longer, adapting--to training, lifestyle changes, cold water, and more--isn’t just a perk that can help you get faster and be on top of your mental game, it’s a requirement. In going longer, you either adapt or you fail.

If you’ve done an endurance sport, you know that it’s common to have difficult issues pop up--crashing on your bike, getting kicked in the face during the swim, getting blisters on the run, and so on. The longer the event, the longer the list can become.

The longer you race or train, the longer you are asking your body and mind to engage in some really tough forward movement. An Ironman isn’t twice as hard as a half-Ironman, it is exponentially as tough. If you’re racing a 7-hour half-Ironman event, you don’t just need a bit more food and water than you do for an international distance race, you need a lot more, and you need to refine your calorie intake to meet the demands of the distance.

To go longer, you need to learn to emotionally shrug off environmental discomfort and deal with it rationally, because 14, 15, or 17 hours are too long to be pissed off at the heat and wind. You are required to adapt to significant structural discomfort and mental struggle. These become part of your everyday existence in training, and you adapt to move with them and not fight them. 

From: Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration

Going Longer Part 1: Embracing the Unknown

Many people do endurance sport because it tests their resolve. They get value from those tests--information about strengths and clarity on weaknesses. Taking on an event that is longer than anything you’ve done before places you on the stage of the unknown. This can be a scary place, but if you are methodical and intelligent, you can manage that fear and move into your test with some sense of belief you can achieve. You may ponder, “Am I good enough?” When going long, the answers are loud and clear.

The people who choose to step onto that unknown stage and perform know the value in taking risks. Each long day of training or racing sets a new stage, a new opportunity, a new view of self, a higher value. There is significant value to going longer than you’ve gone before, and those who have know this. Those who seek going longer, sense it, and may build their own opportunities to go longer.

“Going Longer” in Perspective

When considering taking your race distance up a notch, you need to embrace this change with eyes wide open. Going longer will not only place demands on your time, it will require you to change up your perspective on your sport in various ways. Over the next several weeks I'll offer a few critical perspectives to consider when looking at going longer. Stay tuned!

- from: Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration

Take the Pressure Off while Building Your Base

Unless you live in an area where training outside may be unsafe due to snow, ice, or extreme weather, there is no reason to not get outside. A bit chilly? Wear the proper clothing to accommodate for cold or wind chill. Raining? You get wet anyway when you are swimming, so what’s the issue? The plethora of high-tech clothing and shoes leaves you with no excuse to stay indoors on winter weekends, and chances are, you may have the roads or trails to yourself!

If you are consistent, steady, and disciplined, you will have a long, strong base come March and be in position to add speed to your program. Remember, after some downtime, it will take a while for you to get back into your usual routine and you may slip up and miss workouts more than you do during the season. Take the pressure off, enjoy your easy time on the roads, and you’ll be back up to speed in no time.

If your training is intelligently structured, you will hit your first spring event ready to race with a solid core of strength. The more engaged you are with your playtime and your off-season training, the more enjoyable that first season race will be.

Training Tip: Jump-starting Training

To jump into off-season base building, keep the focus on being kind to your body with easy, relaxed training sessions. Take your time getting back up to speed by using the following rules as a guide:

* Refrain from starting training where you left off. Start with a third of the training time you were doing midseason.

* For the first couple weeks, train three to five days per week.

* Build your program by 10{en}15 percent of the total time training per week in each sport.

* Every fourth week, do an easy week and cut your mileage by 30 percent. * On the fifth week, jump back to where you were at the end of week three, and continue your methodical build.

* Off-season is a perfect time to refine your skill base. Examine your freestyle stroke, work on spinning full circles on your bike, or have someone video tape you running, and then incorporate drills for improved form.

* Assess your gear to see where you can improve on speed and efficiency. Take advantage of end-of-season or post-holiday sales and get that new bike or wetsuit you’ve been eyeing. Or use the extra darkness of winter to motivate you to get a new bike trainer for indoor cycling.

* If you are starting back in November or December, do minimal anaerobic work for a couple months, unless it’s playful, infrequent, and impromptu.

* Use this time to build your aerobic base and gain a structural base of strength in your body. Slowly accrue miles and training time to get your body and mind ready for the rigors of a full training program.

* Emphasize strength and core strength training with weights, plyometrics, or other types of strength work. Build up to doing your strength training program three times a week in the off-season.

Allow yourself to get creative with your training. Keep it light, easy, and fun for a few months while you are building your aerobic base. Ride in a different area. Check out a new masters swimming program or coach. Explore some new trails while running. 

From:  Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration

Wishing you introspection and growth in this new year:

For over 25 years I've coached hundreds of athletes to help them reach life changing goals and there is one thing that has stood out the most. That enduring in our training to attain fitness not only gives us those rewarding finish line experiences, it is the most valuable action we can take to attain a healthy life in total. If all of our material "stuff" is ultimately stripped away and we still have our heath and mental well being - our families will remain rich indeed.

Now more than ever it is critical that we invest in a process that will offer us the resiliency and ability to adapt in these changing times. I encourage you to sign up for that fitness class, race, or gym membership in ’09. Don’t pull back funds toward your fitness and well being – they are your most valuable possessions.

But don’t stop there! Use this transition time to evaluate what is important in your life and your work. Take a class or seminar to increase your skill level, volunteer to support those less fortunate, offer your strength to friends and loved ones, or initiate a new program that can give value to your community. Our introspection and subsequent growth in these challenging times can be cathartic if we allow it. All the while invest in and sustain your fitness and health.

Embrace the current challenges by taking action and I’ll bet that you’ll engage in some quality, life changing introspection in ’09.

I’d love to hear how that plays out for you,

Terri