Death in Death Valley

I'm very sorry to say that I am reluctantly blogging about the death of a runner, again. I've already been asked about it, people always want to know what I think, with a blog about ultras, Badwater, and heat running, so I decided to post, carefully.

I don't mean for this to sound judgmental. It's not intended that way. The grief of his family and friends is too painful and too great, there hasn't been enough time for them to process all that has happened, and right now, we don't even have all the details or the results of an autopsy.

There have been comments and articles on the Internet and in Outside magazine and various blogs, and discussion on ultralists. I've steered clear of it, but I've had too many e-mails yesterday and today asking me if I know about this, if I knew him, if I know what happened, what do I think, etc. I got tired of writing back to people saying, I really can't comment on this right now. So here's what I know:

Most unfortunately, it was in Death Valley. It was not connected with the Badwater race, not connected with any multiple crossing of the valley, not connected with any organized event. It wasn't even intended as an ultra run.

I don't know all the details beyond that. I didn't know Michael Popov, I ran in one race with him 4 years ago but we never exchanged more than a few words and well-wishes as we ran laps at Across the Years. He was young, a fit and accomplished runner.

It sounds like he was trying to cross the bottom of the valley from the West Side Road to Badwater, a distance that, as the crow flies, is only about 10 kilometers. He underestimated what it would take to cross that way, it appears he didn't have enough fluids to keep him going in the event something went wrong, which it did.

I wish someone had told him that Ben Jones had done an autopsy before on a guy who tried to cross the valley like that, looking across and thinking, it's not that far, but died doing it. I don't know if anyone told him. I don't know if they did and he decided to do it anyway. It's not the first time that someone has attempted to go across that way and died.

Crossing the valley that way isn't what it appears. There are obstacles, wet, muddy, marshy salt flats, variations in terrain and footing that make it a lot longer crossing than a few hours. It's not pancake flat as it appears from the eye or even the topo maps. There's no shade, and no drinkable water. There's also no access to a road without going a long way out of the way...

It doesn't matter who you are, how well-conditioned you are, how experienced or accomplished you are. Whenever you set out on an adventure run of any distance, but especially in an extreme environment like Death Valley, you need to do your homework, and you need to plan for the worst with a workable backup plan.

It was 123 degrees. He died of heat stroke. I don't know if he had a backup plan. It doesn't sound like there was one. It doesn't take long between the time someone gets in trouble in the heat and death from heat stroke, without intervening quickly. It sounds like he didn't have a chance by the time someone discovered him. Even though he was conscious when found, it didn't take long before there was no way to revive him.

There is nothing anyone can do to ease the grief of his family, his friends, and the people who were closest to him as they go through this loss. It is unfortunately one of the most difficult lessons to accept for people who love adventuring and extreme sports. We are not infallible.

We CAN do everything in our power to keep the worst from happening, and having a safety plan, a backup plan, and doing your homework before you go might not save every life in every instance, but it might save yours.

My own feeling is that it didn't have to happen, and unfortunately, it did. Do your homework. Don't think you're invincible, because you're not, no matter who you are.

Please be mindful of this as you go on your journeys.

Woman Cave Wisdom: Performance Anxiety

It's cool enough in the mornings to enjoy the woman cave again. I've been here most of the morning except to take Iris for a walk.

I've been having lousy runs all week and I finally decided today to just let go and live my day out like a normal person would, do things around the house, not worry about the workout or having to get certain things crossed off the list.

I had to think about why I was feeling so frustrated.

I was having unrealistic expectations of myself, and feeling anxious about getting started on training for my race at the end of the year. I can't force that to happen, it will have to wait until my body is ready.

I ran a 100 mile PR in May and then a 5 day, 163 mile run with a heavy pack 6 weeks later when I hadn't trained for the longer run, or with a heavy pack. It makes sense that I'd be tired and have some crappy workouts until my body says it's ready again.

And by December 30th when my race starts, my body isn't going to know the difference between starting on July 1st or July 31st.

As soon as I caught myself being anxious, I realized how silly it was and I got over it.

Yesterday I was having a conversation with someone about performance anxiety. She's done three times as many miles as I have so far this year and she's worried about her upcoming 100 mile race. As I listened more closely, I heard her say if there was no timing in a race she would probably run faster than she ever had.

This is someone who has run hundreds of races, of all different lengths, up to 100 miles. She's been running great performances this year. It's not like she's lacking experience. What she is lacking is confidence.

When you expect so much of yourself you get into trouble, because you lose perspective on what's important and why you're doing it. There are times to let go and not worry about it.

Performance anxiety has not been an issue for me ever since I accepted myself for my own abilities. Once you accept that, there is no reason why you can't improve and achieve personal records and perform beyond your wildest dreams.

But some people get so wound up when it comes to running in races because they haven't accepted themselves, they feel they have to compare themselves to other people, and they fear the comparison, fear that they won't measure up, but no one else is comparing.

The only time in my recent memory that I felt nervous was before my Badwater double last year. It wasn't about the race, it was about the whole thing I was about to embark on, going far beyond what I'd ever done before. I didn't trust my abilities enough in an unknown realm, even though I knew I was ready from my training. Once the gun went off I was moving forward, I was in it, all the anxiety disappeared, and I achieved my goal.

Expectations of yourself can be the most damaging, because we performance-oriented and goal-oriented individuals are always harder on ourselves than other people are.

When you do something you are not competing with others, you can only compete with yourself. You have no control over what others do and you only have partial control over what happens yourself. When things don't go so well, you can take the lessons from it, celebrate the successes, and move forward to improve on the next adventure.

I'm going to forget about putting pressure on myself and fill my time with other things, like meeting my friend Pam for sushi tomorrow, and getting little projects done around the house and the yard.

The Bagoomba Training Method

If we were all perfect, life would be boring. No room for improvement, nothing to strive for, no challenges.

Yesterday I felt like crap in the afternoon, so I took a nap and woke up 3 hours later! I needed it. Dennis was on his way home, I took the girls for a short walk while I was waiting for him, and when he got here, I talked him into running with me. He rarely runs after work, but he's been talking about how he needs to. I agree, he does. He would feel better.

Plus, after he won that 5K in Arizona in January, he realized that running once a week, 10 miles of hills on Horsetooth, was enough to get him in shape to do that, so I suggested that he add one or two days of running each week, and he would probably see huge improvements.

We used to call Dennis "Bagoomba". Our friends Kirk and Keith used to go to races with us and we'd all sign up with goofy names. Kirk was Horace McGillicuddy, Keith and I were both Towanda, and Dennis was Bagoomba.

One year (1997) Dennis decided he was going to run the Leadville Trail 100. He had no ultra experience, and had only done one marathon. So he ran two ultras to get himself prepared. He ran a low-key 50K, and then a 50 miler, Collegiate Peaks, which he won in about 7 1/2 hours. To prepare for Leadville, I told him he would need to do long runs, not too frequently, but to get some time in on his feet. And those are some big feet (he wears size 14 or 15, depending on the shoe).

Dennis averaged about 30 miles a week of running the year he ran Leadville. He did a few "long runs", other than his two ultras, he did some runs at Horsetooth in the 25-30 mile range. Some weeks that was all he did.

At Leadville, he finished third overall in 20:59. He had some IT band problems during the race that slowed him down, and that injury persisted for a long time after Leadville. But Kirk and Keith and I attributed his amazing finish at Leadville to what we called "The Bagoomba Training Method". Run the bare minimum of mileage, and kick ass.

When we were first married, Dennis ran about a 29 minute 10K, and I ran about a 39 minute 10K. I used to run with him on his easy days and he would push me at my pace. At the end of the run I'd always see if I could outkick him in the last 200 meters or so. Of course he could have kicked my butt any time, but he ran harder just to give me enough of a challenge.

So we left the house yesterday evening and went for a 6 mile run on the Power Trail. Started out easy and gradually picked up the pace. We got away from doing that long ago, but last night felt like old times. I ran a lot faster than I would have by nyself. At the end of the run I picked it up once we turned onto our street, and kicked it in.

Today I went to the track after a 2 mile run with the girls. It's spring and there are so many things to sniff, it seems like our morning runs take forever. When I got to the track, I did 2 hours in lane 2, striding out for about 60-80 meters of each lap. It felt good. I kept a steady but easy pace, and just used the run as practice on the track curves, which I'll need for Iowa, which is only (gulp) 7 weeks away! How did that happen?

I haven't been doing much mileage at all, and I don't plan to train very hard until this summer. I want to run the Double Mick as a long training week, and I have one goal at Iowa, to run at least 100 miles in 24 hours. I'm trying to stick to the minimum I can get away with, focus on the quality runs and not worry about the mileage. It seems to be working so far.

Plus I am thrilled that I've lost 5 pounds since January, down to 125. Having my thyroid medication right made a big difference, too. I'd love to lose at least another 5, but I think I'm on track to do that. I still can't believe I'm carrying around that much weight on this short little body, but as long as I can run well, it really doesn't matter.

The Bagoomba Training Method. It works!

Work Hangover Wednesday

It's a Wednesday, after I worked two long days back to back with very little sleep before or in between. So I'm feeling a bit cantankerous today.

I've been able to write, my head isn't completely fogged, but it took me until 10 am to take a shower and eat something. I don't have much motivation for anything. This morning I made a mammogram appointment for next month and paid some bills. Ouch. Of course I probably don't need that appointment now, since I woke up this morning at 5:15 to Iris's paw stomping on my boob. Thanks for the mammogram, Iris.

I have an appointment to get my eyes checked this afternoon and I'm hoping to fit a nap in somewhere, preferably after the eye appointment, since my pupils will be as big as saucers and running in the snow glare of daylight won't be good for them. I hope to get out for a nice evening run once I get more rested.

This truly beautiful classic piece was written in 1999 by Larry Gassan. It was just re-posted on Facebook and has made the rounds of the ultra discussion lists again. Some ultrarunners are saying it should be required reading for newbies.

I don't know if that's totally necessary, because I think people come to most things in life with a base of common sense, or not. In some people it takes maturity and experience to develop it. Being a "smart" person on the surface, as supposedly evidenced by a high level of education, long professional career, having raised kids, etc. does not mean you have common sense. Still, I think it is excellent reading material even though it will be completely lost on a lot of people.

Some people just can't get past themselves, they stand as the biggest hurdle to their own success. Waaah, waaah, waaah. Caught with yer pants down and ya can't pull 'em up because yer big fat head is stuck in yer butt.

The pogey bait comment reminds me of what I always try to drive home to people. Being mesmerized by shiny things takes your focus off the important basics. There is so much glitter and glitz out there especially with the Internet and Facebook. Stick to the basics, and you're better off. Don't waste your time, money, or energy being seduced by every new thing that comes along. Even my dogs know to stay focused despite distractions. Eyes on the prize, but the prize is not the thing that sparkles. The sparkles are there to keep you from reaching the prize. The prize is already in you, you just have to reach for it.

And last but not least, the thing that drives home the totality of Larry's masterpiece, is the part about fun and enjoyment. It is about fun. Running hundreds of miles is enjoyable, if it's what you truly want to do and use your brain to do it.

None of this quien es mas macho crap. It ain't about suffering, folks. Or quien es mas loco. It's not about being crazy. If you're in it because you want people to think you're crazy or to prove to others how much you can suffer, you're not only crazy, you're just plain stupid. Life is too short to not enjoy what you're doing. So there you have it.

Every single one of the 12 statements is a gem. If you haven't read it, I highly, highly, recommend reading it right now.

Go.

Photo credit: Nathan Nitzky

The Banana Diet

The question was raised on Woofie's ultra discussion list, "How do I get better at running ultras?"

My running partner Catharine is new to ultras and she's trying to figure it out to prepare for her first 100 mile race this year.

Next week I am doing a long training run, it will involve something in the range of 10 hours or 50 miles. We're going to allow 12 hours which will include up to 2 hours of rest breaks. Catharine is going to join me. She's going to use it as an opportunity to work on her eating, drinking, and resting habits.

What does this have to do with bananas?

About 15 years ago I was running the Pueblo Marathon and I was standing at the starting line with all the other runners. I had my usual pre-race snack, a banana, in my hand and I was eating it as we waited for the race director to make announcements before the gun went off.

Everyone was bouncing around with all their pre-race energy. I stood there calmly, eating my banana, with my water bottle pack around my waist. Few people were carrying waist packs, they planned to rely only on the water cups at aid stations. One of the other runners looked at me, surprised that I was eating right before the start. She said, "I could never eat right before a race, I'd be sick."

I said, "This keeps me from going out too fast."

She looked at me like I had just said the strangest thing she ever heard. But a few seconds later, she said, "I might be wishing I ate a banana when you pass me around 20 miles."

As it turned out, I did pass her late in the race, and I went on to finish second or third among the women. When she got to the finish line she came up and told me she remembered the banana when I flew past her. She said she was going to try it in her next marathon.

I want to show Catharine that the things you'd think would slow you down, like eating, drinking, walking, and resting at aid stations, even sleeping, actually buy you time. They are part of a strategy of self-care that pays off dividends in the second half of a long race.

As I've moved to longer distances, I have come to rely on these strategies even more, building in rest breaks, taking the time to eat well, followed by a period of walking in order to digest and use the calories. I also take time to get off my feet and change any clothes that are uncomfortable, like a wet bra, socks, or anything else that I'm aware of. I like to wash my face and neck because they feel sticky and sweaty. Inside my elbows and behind my knees I do the same. That always makes me feel better.

I follow this run/eat/walk/run pattern using the eating periods as rest breaks to drink, take in electrolytes and calories, stretch, get off my feet, and get comfortable.

When I switch from the walking back to running, it takes a few minutes for my leg muscles to adjust to the rhythm again, but after a short time I feel refreshed and running is so much easier.

There are so many factors in a long race, like eating, drinking, electrolyte intake, efficient crew, efficient use of rest stops, staying warm enough, and putting a little thought into what you'll need before you reach the aid station so you don't waste time. If your brain isn't working because you've neglected to take care of your caloric needs or you're getting hypothermic, you're not going to be able to think clearly and you'll waste time.

If it's cold outside or you've been running all day and are depleted, and going into the night, getting out of your wet clothes and dressing adequately are equally important. You burn a lot more calories if you're trying to stay warm. People who don't understand might say, "Well isn't that the point of all this, to burn calories?"

No it's not the point. A successful finish means you minimize your energy output to keep all your momentum going in a forward direction.

It's a complete change in your thought process if you've been indoctrinated like most runners who start by running 5Ks and 10Ks, move up to marathons, then venture into ultras. The marathon mentality is a tough one to break, that idea of running as fast as you can, as lightweight as you can, with little to no intake of calories and a minimum of fluids. The "speed is everything" paradigm.

That strategy works if you're an elite runner in the shorter distances, but it doesn't apply to ultras, at least not once you get into the 100 mile length races and longer.

The other thing I hear runners say is,"I'm afraid if I start walking I won't be able to start running again." You can do it. It takes practice in training runs to get used to the awkward feeling of making the transition from walking to running, but it is all mental. Some people don't believe it so they won't take a chance to try it.

They are too afraid, because they don't have enough confidence in their ability, or they still view walking with that old school mentality, that it's not really running, or that they've somehow failed if they don't run every step of the distance.

It takes some faith to know that a slower pace will allow you to run faster in the end, but it only takes a few marathons of going out too hard and then bonking and dragging yourself the last 10 miles or so to the finish line to figure out that you're doing something wrong. Unfortunately I've seen a lot of runners who never quite get it, too afraid to try something new.

Try something new this year. Break out of your old habits, find the things that aren't working, and make that leap of faith. You never know how far it might take you.