Double Day

I sit here on Monday with weak legs. There’s no particular muscle soreness, just overall exhaustion. I’ve never been someone that doesn’t sleep well, but last night it was a little tougher. My legs ached and the sheets felt like a weighted blanket. It’s no one's fault but my own. Yesterday was a rough double session that I wouldn’t let myself back off from.

Working with Coach Ryan over the last couple years, we’ve tweaked my mileage and approaches to races. Preparing long runs for a 100k is very different even from a marathon. In marathon training, the long run gets a little bit longer each week, building up to about 80% of the race distance. On race day you only have to go somewhere between 3 and 6 miles into uncharted territory. But for a 100k at most you’ll traditionally build up to about 65% of the race distance. I’ve always struggled being confident this is enough to replicate race day, even if this fits at the end of a traditional training week. 

The last couple go-arounds we’ve tweaked things a bit. There have been times when we’ve pushed for a marathon-type buildup, increasing the long run upwards of racing a 50k to prep for a 100k. A couple years ago I placed the SOB 50k a handful of weeks out from the Waldo 100k. The following year I built up to take a shot at the Timberline Trail FKT (40 miles, 10k’ of climbing) in anticipation of racing a 125k a month and a half later. Especially with races few and far between over the last couple years, we have gone a different direction with the peak efforts. Thanks to our collaboration and Ryan’s creativity, this time around we went in the direction of hard efforts on tired legs. Back-to-back long runs are typically a staple for ultra training. Shuffling through run #2 teaches the body to power through tired legs and teaches the mind that the body can do more. But can we condense it with harder efforts? I was hoping to find out.

AM - 26 miles, easy and controlled, 4-5k’ climb.

PM - 12 miles. First 4 easy shake out, next 6 tempo perceived @50k effort, final 2 miles easy.

Sunday morning I woke up early near Skull Hollow campground. Kristen and Emma stayed in bed while I ventured out before the sun rose. The rare rainfall was wonderful to fall asleep to, but I still woke up nervously. 26 miles at Smith Rock is no easy task and the thought of the evening session weighed on my mind. The little moisture on the ground made small shimmering stars on the ground under the headlamp. So with a shrug I started my watch and headed down the hill from the campsite to begin one of the five major climbs on the route. 

Above all I recognised that it would be a long day. That’s the thought that got me through the first handful of miles before the sun came up. It’s going to be a long day. Sometimes this can cause things to drag on, but it encouraged me to be more patient and easy in my efforts, to better manage the day’s energy. It carried me up to the Grey Butte saddle and across to Burma Road. I could see some headlights from cars in the Smith Rock parking lot. It made me wonder if there would be hikers heading up the Misery Ridge trail or if there would be people at the top to enjoy sunrise with. As it turned out, the trail was still deserted when I crossed through.

I paused at the base to shed layers. My gloves and buff would be less noticeable stuffed deep in my pack and the weather was chilly, but pretty mild. Especially heading into two of the major climbs, layers weren’t nearly as necessary. Still taking my time, I moved with a purpose up Misery Ridge under the headlamp’s light as the sky remained a bit overcast and morning light attempted to creep through. It wasn’t until a mile later while climbing Summit Loop Trail that I finally hit mile 8 and reluctantly put my headlamp away. Early morning miles have become such a staple in my routing that I’m sometimes less excited for the sun to rise. I feel more and more at home in the darkness of the mornings.

I thought about a lot of things that morning. The upcoming race, the evening workout, all the reasons waffles are better than pancakes, how many times I’ve lost a toenail, some of the obnoxious WordArt we all used to use on PowerPoint presentations, and so much more. It passed the time beautifully. From time to time I’ll put on a podcast or some throwback to the early 2000s pop-punk playlists to keep the miles rolling, but things seemed to click off without much mental stress. It wasn’t that the morning was flying by, but it was as if my mind wasn’t converting these small moments into bigger memories and time (and miles) were simply passing by.

It became clear that my digestive system was a bit fussy because within 10 minutes of taking any source of nutrition (gels and blocks) my system forced me off the trail for a bathroom break. The brand of gel didn’t seem to matter. Frankly, even too much water felt like it was rushing through me. Strange, but unfortunately not the first time. Most of the last month or more I’ve been experiencing this on anything longer than 15 miles. The added stress of the race date approaching absolutely compounds the whole situation. We have GOT to figure this out asap.

Despite being definitely down on nutrition and hydration, I was still moving really well. The miles didn’t seem to slow or to get much more challenging. Of course I felt some tightening in the hips but my stride didn’t change much. Even my calves, which are usually big babies, held together totally fine. There must be something to this consistency thing!

I climbed the final dirt hill to the car slightly faster than the run’s average pace to meet Kristen and Emma bundled up in the chilly morning air. While sure I felt like I’d done a long run, it really didn’t feel like 26 miles. Perhaps preparing the mind for a huge day made the first run seem manageable. As if downplayed in my mind-- it was just a hurdle to get to the real work.

We headed home for a little R&R before the evening session. The key focal points were recovery and fueling. After a quick shower to feel like a complete reset, it was time for some rabbit EZ Joggers and the couch. All the comfiest of things all in one place. We whipped up some warm veggie noodle soup with toast and butter and I plopped down hard on the soft cushions. We put on some Netflix standup comedy special to keep my mind relaxed and distracted from what was to come.

The thought crossed my mind as I tied my shoes not just questioning how I was going to cover 12 more miles, but if I could physically do it, and if so-- in what condition would I be in? My feet ached and legs couldn’t believe they had to move and take impact again already. As a cherry on top, leave it to me to plan a tough route. Coach Ryan suggested sticking with rolling trail, but a more manageable, runnable route. Horse Ridge had been an excellent training ground for me most of the summer. It only seemed fitting to go back to the rockier, more up and down terrain of those trails to maximize on the difficulty of the day. The only thing I could do was shrug and chuckle. Well, here goes nothing! I trotted down the trail reminding myself what it was like to run again. Bambi on ice. It felt awkward but still seemed like one foot was somehow landing in front of the other.

As the first couple warmup miles went along I kept thinking that there was just no way a tempo session was going to happen. It didn’t seem realistic. One of my training mantras this year has been “Put yourself in a position to be successful.” Give yourself the opportunity and see what happens. The warmup was mellow and ugly, but somehow not overly slow. The legs eventually came around and it made me realize that sometimes hard things are possible. Once a week my alarm clock goes off at 3:45am and I get up to start the day. I can do hard things. 

The 4 mile warmup prepped my body and mind and things got easier as it went. Cresting a hill I began looking forward to the 6 miles of hard effort and calculated the distance of the downhill, flat, and following long climb. Not a single element of the session seemed easy but that’s why we’re out there. Better just get into it while I feel okay before I talk myself out of it.

0-2 - Steady, rocky downhill.

How am I moving this well? The residual soreness of 26 miles--now 30 miles on the legs was very noticeable. That never went away. But the fact that I was comfortably in full stride was borderline alarming. Well it’s a downhill. It won’t feel like this for long. It’ll catch up to me. But the second mile was even faster than the first! It truly made no sense. It’s a common route for me to run and I’ve never run those two miles as quickly as that tempo. It made no sense. 

2-2.5 - Sandy, flat.

Suddenly things felt a little more grounding. The sand slowed progress slightly but made the landings easier. My feet still throbbed but the legs were somehow feeling better and better. Just stay steady. I knew there was plenty more pain to come.

2.5-4 - Sandy and hard packed steady steep uphill.

The old Escape From Moscow climb is nasty. Free range cows also love to cover the valley that the trail traces up. All it takes is letting them know you’re coming for them to move, but sometimes they give you questionable looks. I felt judged by the cows as the climb went on. I know guys, I’m slowing down. It’s getting tough! But as if it were a spectator shouting at me, one cow just feet from the trail let out a big moo as I passed and it was alarming but got my mind right to dig deep. The sandy trail seems to climb forever, feeling inefficient almost every step of the way. My intention was to run everything I could. Unless it was truly faster to hike, just run. Every fiber of my lower legs twinged with the extra time spent on my toes. 

4-4.5 - Rocky, rolling downhill.

As the trail leveled out I felt the urge to back off the gas. My drive was wearing thin and my calves began to cramp. The route’s hardest section of terrain was over. But was that going to be the hardest I would push? Still another 10 minutes of stress before we’re done here. You have more in you than that. Give yourself the opportunity to be successful.

4.5-5.5 - Steady slight uphill.

There’s a Strava segment for this stretch that connects two barbed wire fences. I know it well. I’ve run it once a week for what feels like the whole fall. I know that it climbs 255 feet, that it’s exactly a mile long, that there’s more than one false-flat right about halfway, that there’s a couple 10’ kickers right at the end, and that it was about to feel like eternity. My calves tensed as the trail rolled. A couple more minutes. Come on. Let’s go.

5.5-6 - Rolling slightly rocky downhill.

Honestly it felt like a victory lap. Each footfall was more and more calculated. The last thing I wanted was to step awkwardly in my fatigued state and roll an ankle, fall, or even have the lasting effects of a massive muscle cramp. The top of the Sand Canyon descent is another area I’d gotten to know incredibly well, and the view from up high is spectacular. The rolling desert hills are littered with cows, the low brush overhangs the narrow cut singletrack that winds into the valley. It really is a high-desert dream. My mind was foggy and it made focusing on the trail tough, but my legs knew what to do. It was mind blowing to be this far into the session still moving, but especially to be moving FAST.

When my watch vibrated to signify the end of the tempo, I almost burst into tears. If it weren’t for the steep downhill I probably would have lost all focus to celebrate the moment. How could that be it? I had just finished an insanely hard session that I’d be looking forward to for weeks. It’s one that I wouldn’t have seriously considered even two years ago. It felt in that moment as if I’d overcome a hurdle and climbed onto a higher step. This feels like measurable growth in the grand scheme of things.

The final two miles down the hill were surprisingly lively. Putting in the miles is all that mattered. They weren’t slow, but certainly felt like it compared to the much harder effort. My cup was full and it was an incredibly pleasant surprise. It’s a huge confidence boost to know that Coach Ryan got creative to come up with a very challenging session, I asked him to bump it up in intensity, we shot for the stars, and it panned out incredibly well. This was one of the more beneficial peak-week training sessions it feels like I’ve done in the last few years and I can’t wait to see what it yields for my progress. 

This day goes to show that with practice we can do hard things.