Monday, November 23, 2009

Poll Results: How Runners Light Up the Night

Ok, the results are in, and headlamps rule the night in this unscientific poll on the types of lighting ultrarunners prefer to make their way on darkened trail.

Headlamps by themselves (with no other light sources) came up tops, preferred by 35.5 percent of runners. When this percentage was combined with those who prefer a headlamp on the head as well around the waist, the percentage of folks using headlamps to light the way jumped to 64.5 percent.

Surprisingly, flashlights by themselves, with no other lighting sources came up with a low 6.5 percent. Save some from the new generation of super powerful headlamps, I'd choose a flashlight alone over a headlamp alone any day, just given the relief flashlights reveal.

Finally, those choosing a headlamp and handheld flashlight came out to 29 percent.

(click for larger image)

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Runners' Poll: How do you light your way on nighttime runs?

Poll closes Monday, November 23 at 5:30pm (Mountain)

Ultrarunners
can get pretty attached to their lighting sources. Pitch black backcountry trails have a way of teaching us very quickly what works and what doesn't. Share your thoughts on how you prefer to light the way on those through-the-night runs and see how you stack up with your compatriots. Really feel strongly about things? Leave a comment about the type of headlamp or flashlight you use and what you love and/or hate about it.

Poll Closed. Click for Results.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Vert Libre: The Swarm

They swarmed my passive black lab, and the mass turned like a hurricane tracked on radar - her small body the eye of the storm surrounded by churning golden fur. I could hear her yelps and all the growls, and picked up a rock - no fallen branches in reach - running to her defense. Seeing she wasn't alone, the pack fell away - seven, then five, then two. Then just she and I running down the gulch without looking back, rock still in my hand. We dared a quick drink at the junction, still breathing hard, then climbed the singletrack for home as if it had all happened long ago.

Vert Libre: free-form poetry and observations from the trail

Monday, November 2, 2009

RJ Review: Fenix L2D Q5 Flashlight

About ten years ago I read an article in the newspaper about the resurgence of men's hats - of the fedora, bowler varieties. One of the men quoted in the article, who'd recently bought a Homburg - a type of hat with a fashionably rugged style - said that whenever he put it on and went outside it made him feel like he was carrying a loaded gun.

Hyperbole, of course, and probably just plain ludicrous. But I nevertheless think of that quote every time I reach into my drop bag in the waning light and pull out my Fenix L2D Q5 flashlight for a long night on the trail. Something about this light just buoys my confidence.

I've used it on two long-night runs - Coyote Two Moon in March and Wasatch Front in September - and one short-night run - Bighorn 100 on the solstice - and in all settings, on all types of darkened trail, it was flawless. With up to 180 lumens, it's got plenty of power to light the way. Its focused beam is great for searching out trail markers, harrowing drop-offs, or those things that go crack in the night. The brushed aluminum body of the L2D feels solid in the hand (even a sweaty hand) and wipes off easily when gel loading goes bad. And for the brightness it delivers, it's compact and light.

Best of all, and the main reason I bought mine in the first place, is the battery life. In medium mode (53 lumens), with just two standard AA batteries, the L2D shined brighter and longer than I needed it to at Coyote and Wasatch, each with nighttime running between ten and eleven hours.

As with most anything, there are some minor frailties worth noting. First, some folks with bigger hands might actually find the light too small in diameter to comfortably carry for hours on end. My hands fit solidly in the "medium" bin, and the L2D works nicely for me. Those in the L/XL range, though, may find it a bit small. Second, and this is likely the biggest frailty, the L2D is pricey. It retails for around $60.00; though, there are some deals out there since it's being sunsetted for the newer LD20.

Overall, though, if you're looking to run your first or your fiftieth nighttime trail run and you've got a few dollars stored away, the Fenix L2D is a great light source that'll get you where you're going with confidence, and on just two AA's.


For detailed specs on different brightness modes (including SOS flashing!), lens coating, and other things I can in no way assess properly, click here.

More reviews on Run Junkie (reviews).

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Vert Libre: Changes - Fall Running

The running is so different this time of year. Races done and the big miles logged. Once overgrown trails cut back by the dry tail-end of summer and new chill of fall. I know I should be resting but legs and singletrack yell "speed" and push me along with reminders that this run - today, right now - could be the last one before the snows put things to rest until March? April? Heaven forbid, May? And though the edge is a little rough and my waist a little more full, the PR's still come. So free is the running, so relaxed, my legs find the contours of the trails like they never did in the heat of the season. Up the valley, I see the full grey clouds dropping snow, and the forecast says they're coming this way. Time to see how fast I really am.

Vert Libre: free-form poetry and observations from the trail

Monday, October 26, 2009

Top Twenty @Run_Junkie Tweets from October 2009

For those intelligent folks disinclined to follow the Run Junkie Twitter feed but who have just a dash of voyeur in their souls, I offer this executive summary from the last month. Here they are, such as they are: the top 20 tweets of October from @run_junkie.
  1. Beautiful early evening run yesterday through campus and around The Dish at Stanford. Pretty stout little loop.
  2. Yes, it dilutes things a bit. But why should it bother me? "Plodders Have a Place, but Is It in a Marathon?" - NYT: http://bit.ly/19SWYY
  3. Palm Drive - Stanford: http://twitpic.com/mi0r6
  4. In Palo Alto with the family for the big 20th college reunion. Stopped by Zombie Runner, of course: http://twitpic.com/mhn2j
  5. Something Buddhist about latte art. Impermanent. http://twitpic.com/mcpfu
  6. For a bookish ultra runner, how great to get a nod on the Ulysses "Seen" blog (1st paragraph)? - http://tinyurl.com/yjw7uwv
  7. New blog post: Race-Day Demons and Their Long Shadows http://bit.ly/rw7JN
  8. Bowling shirts & boner minutes. Coyote Two Moon 100 opens applications - a Chris Scott event not to be missed: http://coyotetwomoon.com
  9. 1700 in the bowl as Western States 100 application period comes to a close. It's going to take some good luck in Dec to get a golden ticket.
  10. Nice run in the fall sun on some brand new singletrack. Hard to beat it.
  11. Lance seems to be France's White Whale, one hopes they don't meet the Pequod's end. VeloNews: http://bit.ly/13UIc6
  12. Can't go wrong following Hicham El Guerrouj's example. "Exercise and company: Fitter with friends" | The Economist - http://shar.es/1l6qQ
  13. New blog post: 10 for '10: Goals for the Season Ahead http://bit.ly/l5us5
  14. Didn't run this morning. But I did spend 2 hours "cross-training" at the new pump park in Hailey. http://twitpic.com/l4v2l
  15. "Growth in Mountain Biking May Put Western Park Trails Off Limits" - NY Times: http://bit.ly/19LtNC
  16. Western States study: Quercetin does not affect rating of perceived exertion [or finish time]: Res Sports Med. 2009 - http://shar.es/1j9pM
  17. Snow piling up atop Baldy. This didn't happen until mid December last year: http://www.sunvalley.com/Su...
  18. Sitting at Costco in Twin, eating pizza and wondering Rocky or Coyote
  19. New blog post: Reflections on the 2009 Season http://bit.ly/27ouhF
  20. Name's in the WS hat. Feel like I should hit the sauna, just in case...

Monday, October 19, 2009

Confronting Race-Day Demons and Their Long Shadows

We all have a race-day demon. Some of us are quicker to admit it than others, but for each of us, by the time we toe the line at an ultra-distance event, the specter of some past failure or some past breakdown haunts our psyches. For many runners, these demons float away as soon as the gun goes off. For others, they rear their heads post race. And for some, like me, they travel with us many miles and many hours along the trail.

My big demon? It's mile 39. It was at that point of the Grand Teton 50 in 2008 where things started to descend quickly into a nutritional DNF a few miles later on. And even though I've had some decent finishes at a number of harder and longer events since then, I still feel some level of relief every time I get past mile 39 in good shape.

And that's the thing about these demons. They can have long shadows that can cast across race after race, even training run after training run. We simply have to learn how to deal with them until they eventually fade away.

Training was my proving ground - The lab where I was able to build up a new calorie, fluid, and electrolyte plan that helped me toe the line at my first 100k with enough confidence that the demon of the Tetons, while not silenced, was somewhat muted. Race after race since then, the demon has been increasingly small and quiet, until at the 2009 Wasatch Front 100, mile 39 came and went without much notice (editors note, Wasatch was not without issues).

Of course, it's still something I occasionally think about, and rightfully so. The Teton DNF was a pivotal moment in my would-be ultra life, and one that could have easily been the death knell of the distance for me. But defeat (especially born of inaction) casts a longer and more indelible shadow than any sort of race-day demon that toes the line with us. By taking it head on, race after race, we weaken it until it dissolves completely.

I hadn't thought much about this topic until I read a piece in the most recent UltraRUNNING by Stan Beutler (UR; Oct 2009; pg 41) who chronicled his successful return to this year's Bighorn 100 seven years after a harrowing, near-death experience with hyponatremia in the 2002 race.

With great heart, he writes:
"When I crossed the finish line in this year's 100-mile race, I felt gratitude, more than triumph, relief, or any other emotion. I was grateful for the chance to make it all the way back."

That's what tackling our demons does. It brings us back, full circle. Yet, we return not as the same person who began the trip, but one who has grown mentally, physically, and maybe even spiritually in the process. Of course, most of our demons pale in comparison to Mr. Beutler's but what they all offer us is the chance for growth and the ability to look ahead knowing the future is ours to make.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

10 for '10: Goals for the Season Ahead

With off-season life all bon-bons and foot massages and easy chairs, and my 2009 season summed up (here), why not move on toward goals for 2010? At no time will they seem more attainable than as I sit here sipping an Americano and eating some chocolate, so here they are, in no particular order. Some are pretty global; some pretty specific to local training.
  1. Run a challenging 100 miler in under 24 hours. (PR 25:34, Wasatch)
  2. Run Bald Mountain Trail (Sun Valley ski mountain) in under an hour. (PR 1:00:46).
  3. Run Bald Mountain Trail in under 59:00.
  4. Run Carbonate climb (trailhead to mineshaft) in under 26:00. (PR 26:37).
  5. Write, and get published, more long-form pieces on ultra-running.
  6. Write more poetry, running-inspired or otherwise
  7. Find some level of relief from the full-price of shoes, equipment, and calories
  8. Take more planned easy weeks during the heat of training
  9. Get more group runs in with friends
  10. Get at least two long runs on trails I've never trod

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Reflections on the 2009 Season

Yes, there are a number of races yet to be run this year - but not by me. So, it seemed time to reflect on the long 2009 season before it faded away in my memory as planning for 2010 takes hold. Here, you'll find my "best of" list for 2009. I thought about including the "worst of" as well. But, in the balance of things, it seemed a little petty and belittling to what on all accounts was a really fabulous 2009. (The truly inquisitive can still glean the season's downsides in my Attackpoint training log).

Best race:
A toss-up between the Wasatch Front 100 and Pocatello 50. For pure effort and grit and successfully working through some tough times, it's Wasatch (see Best turnaround). For pure performance, it's got to be Pocatello.

Best race schwag:
The chock-full and esoteric Coyote Two Moon goodie bag, which included one very nice Patagonia Slopestyle Hoodie.

Best hike:
Idaho's Hyndman Peak (12,009), with my wife.

Best photo:
A tired AJW bringing up the rear in a training run post Western/Hardrock double.


Best video of someone else's race:
While it's hard not to give this to the AJW/Kevin Sullivan Leadville regurgitation special, it has to go to the pacer's view video of Kim Holak's Hardrock (below):


Best song:
Blitzen Trapper's Furr, which played a key role on one of my winter long runs, and which I played over and over during the night at the Bighorn 100.

Best sensation:
Entering the shaded woods of Bare Ass Pass at Wasatch after the baking heat between Big Mountain and Lambs.

Best quest for vertical:
The climbs up and runs down the snowy slopes of Sun Valley's Bald Mountain ahead of March's Coyote Two Moon 100k.

Best turnaround:
Getting past the early-stage GI meltdown at Wasatch and making it to the finish in decent shape and still OK time.

Best hardest track workout:
A Brad Mitchell special that finished with a 20-minute "tempo" with AJW and Brad leading the lightning charge. I stumbled home afterward with a tingling face and drank 32 ounces of chocolate milk.

Best training run:
The April quadruple Carbonate/Vorberg loop. 32 miles with 6,000 feet of climbing that felt about as effortless as it gets. Also inspired Best running-related poem.

Best running-related poem:
I didn't write too many this season, but the hands down winner was the This is Just Say knock off, which actually made it on the wall of my wife's office.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

100 Miles with James Joyce: My Foos Won't Moos

A transcendent romp through the night that meshes the real and imaginary, capturing life's tragedy and triumphs in the sample of hours between dusk and dawn.

A circuitous, all day journey from watering hole to watering hole, where the same clutch of people cross paths throughout the day until they all come together in a liquid and calorie-fueled finale.

Description of the last 100 miler you did?

Most likely. But they're also the plot lines (as they are) of James Joyces' Finnegans Wake and Ulysses, respectively.

Though I've been a runner and a devotee of Joyce for most of my adult life, it was only in the last month that I saw any parallels between his writings and running. During my usual mind games a couple weeks ahead of Wasatch, a phrase from the washerwomen chapter of Finnegans Wake kept coming into my mind, a phrase that would presage my first mile heading out of Brighton on race day.

In the close of Book 1, two washerwomen are doing laundry in the river, sharing rumors of the novel's two main characters. As night falls, they begin to transform - one into a tree; another into a stone (you just have to go with it). As the one woman changes into a tree, she tells the other: "My foos won't moos." Written in Joyce's at-times-maddening "night language," the line translates to: "My feet won't move."

So I had a great time playing this line with my wife in the lead up to the race, thinking of the 26,000 feet of climbing to conquer and the ever-increasing temps called for on race day. And the night of Wasatch, I actually did my best-ever washerwoman impression heading out of Brighton at mile 75. If I wasn't the personification of someone slowly turning into a tree, I don't know what I was (see previous post). Just ask my pacer - and the four people who passed us.

But, even beyond such a direct simile, Joyce's general philosophy meshes wonderfully with that of ultra-running. He reveled in the extraordinary within the ordinary. Whether it was a lowly advertising canvasser (Leopold Bloom in Ulysses) or a hod carrying father of three (Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker in Finnegans Wake), he saw within each person's life a complex web of history, philosophy, mythology, observation and desire forged in the trials and triumphs of every day. Who of us who has been lucky enough to race, run, or walk through a 100 miles hasn't felt such a broad transcendent experience in that enriched time between the gun and finish line?

Moreover, Joyce's characters are nothing if not peripatetic. In Ulysses, the main characters journey in and around Dublin in an exhausting and event-filled day that begins at dawn and finishes with a final collapse into bed in the wee hours. In Finnegans Wake - perhaps the most ultra-esque novel - the characters traverse time, space, and reality as dreams and hallucinations play out over the course of a single, wild night.

Yes, I know. Such simple parallels between Joyce and ultra-running are not the thing that dissertations are made of, but I've always treasured the connections in my life - the small things that cross-over from one passion to the other, magnifying both. So, it was a real gift to finally see a connection between my favorite sport and my favorite author, so much so it was almost OK that heading out of Brighton my foos wouldn't moos.