A few years ago, I started pulling a tire back and forth over a local bridge as part of my endurance training, and as you can imagine, it encouraged some interesting remarks from passersby. “I think there’s something chasing you,” to “Let me sit in there,” to “My dog would love you to pull him around,” were the norm.
Browsing: Training and Racing
Just because I don’t have a snowball’s chance of hell of ever winning an ultramarathon doesn’t mean that I don’t set goals for myself. In fact, I might set multiple goals for a single race. Or I may a single goal for an entire year’s time period. The point is, goals help you keep motivated to improve and give you a benchmark to evaluate your progress.
The inspiration to write this piece comes from a lifetime of loving dogs and living in their love. I have watched throughout my life, some of the happiest moments occur between humans and their wet nosed soil-sniffing companions. I’d argue – that some of the strongest bonds of love found on this planet have been forged between the two and four-legged.
At this time of year, how did you go about planning your races and schedule for the upcoming year? Also, how did you approach these winter months? I’m getting stir crazy and want to be out there, racing long out on the trails, right now. How do you approach and handle this?
The father had always been old school and a bit old-fashioned. He was a man who could easily handle both a stethoscope and a shotgun, his life shaped by time tending patients in emergency rooms in Roseville, California, and in caring for horse riders, and then for runners, on the Western States Trail.
This is the first in a series of articles on what happens to your body during an ultra, focusing on the sparse but growing scientific literature that exists. However, physiology is extremely individual dependent, so please interpret this column with caution, as we are all different.
I circled the high school track, loop after loop, hour after hour, mile after mile. For 100 miles, to be exact. It was July in southern Utah, where summer temperatures feel like you’re standing on the sun. The high was 107 degrees. I tried to think of some profound response when people asked why I was running 100 miles around a track in July. The best I could come up with was “Well, it seemed like a unique challenge. And I had some glazed donuts I needed to burn off.”
I’m a nurse and work 12- to 14-hour night shifts. Depending on my schedule and how exhausted I feel from working nights, I’m able to train a lot some weeks, and almost not at all in other weeks. Any advice for those of us who can’t adhere to a traditional training plan, and whose weekly mileage must often vary dramatically?
The glare of florescent lights is blinding as my eyes strain to make out the man standing over me in a white lab coat. Crap. I’m in the hospital… again. The man in the white lab coat is obviously a doctor, and now that my eyes have adjusted, I can see his critical gaze. “You may want to consider not doing this again,” he says, shaking his head, muttering something about CK levels before leaving the room.
As Old Man Winter makes his callous return, those of us who’d rather forgo an alternative winter sport must make the transition into cold-weather running. And it’s not always easy. Harsh climates can make it tough to get motivated for long hours of ultra training, but with the proper planning, gear and mindset, running in snow and icy conditions can actually be pretty amazing.
When I began this column two years ago, the intent was to bring the historic roots of ultras to today’s newest ultrarunning readers. Driven by the value of sustainability, the notion was to help new runners avoid re-inventing the wheel: to learn the lessons without having to experience, first-hand, the painful mistakes that befell our predecessors.
Industry representatives generally put the lifespan of a shoe between 400 and 600 miles. The mileage you personally can expect to get, however, will vary depending on factors such as your weight, the surface you run on, your foot strike tendencies, whether you switch off pairs from one run to another and of course the resilience of the materials and design.
If you ask ultrarunners why they got into the sport in the first place, you will hear a range of answers—for health, for a love for the outdoors, for a personal challenge, for an escape from the stresses of work. But I can’t imagine that many ultrarunners would say that they got into running because they wanted to be fast and competitive.
Last December, my friend Rachael and I got lucky at the Western States lottery. We were excited, then terrified. After that, we got serious. We watched Unbreakable over and over, which confirmed what the Western States website says all along: It’s a downhill race, and most years a very hot one.
But in what ways, exactly, do these events differ or remain similar? How should your preparation for an ultra differ from your training for a stage race? Should you employ similar race tactics in both races? Should your nutrition plan stay the same for both races? Does recovery take longer for one or the other? Is the atmosphere and culture the same at both events? Which event is right for you?
I have always loved being a student of the sport—reading, asking questions, trying new things and learning what worked for me. I have been fortunate to have had several coaches who helped fill in gaps in the complex puzzle we call ultrarunning. Your question gets me thinking about the one who did the most to make me the runner and coach I am. Here are 17 lessons I learned from my favorite coach.
Last week, I traveled to north-central Sweden to compete in the second annual UltraVasan 90K on Saturday morning, August 22. What follows is an account of my race but also the race history, the course, and the three kings on everyone’s mind as the weekend unfolded.
As we get into the middle of summer, many races involve running in severely hot weather. The most experienced runners use several tricks to deal with this, which are most evident at two Californian races renowned for their searing heat—Western States 100 and Badwater 135.
Ultramarathon races take hours, days. What’s a few lost seconds, right? Wrong. Seconds really do matter. Let me share with you a little story that illustrates this point. The race wasn’t a traditional ultramarathon, but a multiday adventure race involving a variety of disciplines, which included running, mountain biking, paddling and rock climbing.
My non-running friends often ask me what it feels like to run a 100-miler. They find it difficult to imagine. I find it difficult to describe. Oxymoronic phrases like “Everything hurts, but I love it!” create more confusion than they clear up. I’ve been struggling to find a better way to get the message across. I think I finally found one.
Summertime means the mountains are open for runners and hikers, and the majority of the high alpine races are during this time of year. However, many runners, especially city slickers, don’t have equivalent climbs where they can train. Fortunately, there are ways to prepare for the more mountainous races no matter where you live.