Canyons 2021: Before The Madness Begins

In May of 2018 I began seeing a therapist shortly after my former wife and I split up.  We've talked once a week for nearly three years now, and in that time, we've talked about a wide variety of things.  We talk about pretty much anything and everything.  Sometimes it gets deep, sometimes it doesn't.  Earlier today though, we spent the entire fifty minute session talking about my upcoming 100K run this weekend.  Believe it or not, yes, I actually did spend almost a whole hour mumbo jumbo-ing about an ultramarathon.

Over the last four years, this race has repeatedly vexed me.  The first time I attempted the Canyons 100K in 2017, I was completely unprepared.  I had run my first 50K eight months prior, and ran no further than a marathon's distance between that run and Canyons.  Looking back, I have no idea what I was thinking when I thought I could fake my way through a 100K with such light training.  The course beat me into submission, and I was forced to drop out at mile forty-eight after arriving at the aid station thirty minutes after the cutoff time.  I have nobody or nothing to blame except myself, and my foolish and unrealistic optimism.  Not finishing the race was a valuable lesson, and I'm grateful that it happened.  The following year I trained properly and went back to seek redemption.  The hard work paid off, and I finished within the cutoff time and got my Western States qualifier.  It was a proud moment.  I realized at that finish line that I was stronger and more capable than I ever thought I was.  When I returned in 2019, the course had to be re-routed due to record snowfall after an enormous winter in the California Sierras.  To add to the complexity, it was a warm and balmy day on race day.  The Canyons 100K course certainly lives up to it's name.  It traverses the Western States trail through the notorious "canyons" section, which includes several steep and lengthy climbs and descents.  The deep sections of these canyons are often ten to twelve degrees warmer than the rest of the course, and on this day, the temperature reached the low eighties.  I had a great first half, however the heat caught up with me around mile forty.  I wasn't prepared for the heat, and by the time I reached mile forty-five, I was cramping up with every step, dry heaving, and contending with heat related nausea.  I didn't have enough sodium and electrolytes in my system, and I was too far gone to make up for the deficit.  It's like overdrawing your bank account by $300 and someone says "here's $200.  Will this solve the problem?" Nope.  "How about $50 more?" Nope, that still won't do it.  "Well, tough shit, that's all we can give you".  I made the painful decision to once again drop out at mile forty-eight.  Again, I learned a valuable lesson from this DNF, but this time, I wanted blood.  Five weeks later I finished the Bishop High Sierra 100K and went on to finish the Tahoe Rim Trial 100-miler that July.  In April of 2020 the race was called off because of...well...that big thing that came in and changed the entire world the month before.  It was the first of many races I had that were cancelled in 2020, but I opted to do a solo self supported 50K run in the Bay Area on race day to keep my ultramarathon fire burning.    

And, that brings us to now.  Canyons 2021.  The race that's been on my mind for the last several months.  The race that I've been rambling to my girlfriend, my therapist, and my friends about for the last few weeks.  And here I am again doing it on this blog post.  How do I feel about it now that it's only two days away?  Well, I have a lot of nervous excitement.  I'm excited because I haven't run a live in person ultramarathon since January of 2020.  Also, I love this course and this trail.  It's one of my favorite places to run.  I'm nervous though, because this will be the furthest I've run since Tahoe Rim Trail 100 in July of 2019.  Also, this is a hard ass race.  It's sixty-two miles with 15,000 feet of climbing.  A lot of things can happen and it could go a number of different ways.  Some good, some not so good.  I'd like to think that I will have a good day though.  So far, all of the ducks seem to be in a row in terms of what I can't control.  To start off, the race is actually happening.  That's great news in it's own right.  The run will be on a modified course to allow more room for social distancing.  We will be running a point to point course from Overlook Park in Auburn to the China Wall campground in Foresthill.  I've been on this whole course before at some point during other races I've done, except for the last ten miles.  We'll just have to see how that part goes.  Additionally, the State of California has allowed us to all start at the same time at 5 AM as opposed to having staggered starts, and there will be aid stations every eight miles with packaged treats, plenty of hydration, and lots of awesome volunteers.  The weather forecast is supposed to be excellent; mostly cloudy, in the high fifties, low sixties.  In terms of what I can control, I feel cautiously optimistic, but again, anything can happen out there.  I've been putting in some big miles over the last couple of months, including a sixty mile week a couple of weeks ago.  Among those sixty miles was a thirty-one mile all night run along the shore of Lake Tahoe.  Over the last two weeks I've been tapering, doing more uphill hiking to prepare myself for the inclines, and ramping up on my strength and core training, which I began dabbling more into about five months ago.  

All I can do now is try my best to make sure my head is in the right place.  My therapist advised me to think positive, but don't repress the negative feelings because then they'll scream at me even more loudly.  "Welcome the negative feelings and tell yourself it's just anxiety, and you can push through it".  Part of the mental game is also telling myself that a finish would be fantastic, but if things go wrong and I don't make it to the finish line, it's not the end of the world.  I can't be afraid of failure.  There are plenty of other 100Ks that I can run.  Canyons is not the absolute and final word in ultrarunning.  Still though, I will absolutely do everything in my power to finish this run and get my Western States qualifier for 2022.  I can do it.  I'm capable.  I have nineteen hours to travel sixty-two miles on foot.  Pure and simple.  I either succeed or fail.  My girlfriend and I leave for Auburn on Friday afternoon, and at 5 AM on Saturday morning, it's go time.  I can't say exactly what the result will be, but I'm cautiously optimistic.  We'll see how it goes!

    

Running, The Outdoors, And Social Media

Let me just start off by saying that I love social media.  Facebook and Instagram (I don't mess around with Twitter too much) are great for keeping up with the lives of my friends and family.  I've also been introduced to several new products and businesses through social media and it's a great way for businesses and individuals to promote and market themselves.  Another thing I love about it is having a way of sharing my life online with other people.  Now, anyone who follows my social media knows that I'm pretty engaged.  The support that I get is always very positive, but I'm not naïve.  I know there's probably a few people out there who are thinking "Dude, okay, we get it.  You like to run a lot.  You like mountains.  You like the outdoors.  What are you trying to do with all this?"

What you see on my social media is my life.  It's my reality.  It's not attention or acclaim that I'm seeking.  I share my life on social media to inspire people.  When people I admire share their lives on social media, it inspires me, so why wouldn't I want to do the same damn thing?  I'm an accountant for a tech company, not a philosopher, but one thing that I have a strong belief in, is people who have passions and hobbies are generally happier and healthier than those who lack those two things.  The message I'm trying to send when I post on social media isn't so much "look how much fun I'm having or how awesome I am" it's more like I'm saying "I'm out here doing what I love to do and I hope you're doing the same thing".  Whether you're into vintage movies, fashion, cooking or eating exotic foods, or knitting blankets, my personal belief is that everyone should want to share their passions on social media.  If you're into music, share your favorite records or artists.  If you're into painting, share photos of your paintings.  If you like playing soccer, share photos from your games.  

Another reason why I'm so engaged on social media is because I believe in transparency.  I like to be out in the open with what's going on in my life, and I like to keep people in the loop.  Despite my open book mentality, there are a few areas of my life that even I like to keep private.  For example, most runners are familiar with the oh so wonderful app known as Strava.  Strava is awesome.  I love how accurately it tracks runs (and numerous other activities, including biking, snowboarding, and even paddling).  The amount of data and statistics the app provides is quite impressive.  There is, however, another aspect of Strava that I refer to as the "social media" aspect.  This includes all of your data being out there for everyone to see if you so choose, and the ability for others to give you "kudos" on your activities.  People can see pictures of my adventures on social media if they want, and that's enough for me.  I don't need everyone to know exactly how far and how fast I run.  Thus, I have my Strava profile set on private mode and use it strictly for tracking purposes.  

So, what I would say to everyone, no matter how old or young you are, where you live, etc. is if you haven't found your passions yet, keep looking.  You'll find them eventually, probably sooner than you think.  If you already have passions and you follow them, that's awesome!  No matter what your passions are or what your life is, I would encourage people to put their lives out there on social media for others to see.  I can guarantee you that people will dig it.  You'll probably end up inspiring more people than you thought and it might just be what some people need to turn things around in their own lives.    

  

What Is A "Good" Runner?

It goes without saying that the coronavirus has taken a toll on everyone in one way or another.  It's had a significant impact on people's professional and personal lives, especially those who have been infected, have had financial struggles, or have had a family member or friend lose their life because of this awful disease.  My heart goes out to those folks.  Since almost everyone in my social circle is a runner (surprise, surprise), I've had several of my friends tell me that their running has slowed down over the last year in light of the world shutting down.  They feel sluggish, they aren't running as fast as they were pre-pandemic, and sometimes they simply don't enjoy running like they used to.  Their feelings are justified.  It's not fun when you're steadily becoming a faster runner and you feel good about your performance, only to have it shuttered by negative psychological factors that drain you of motivation and energy.  When my girlfriend brings this topic up to me, I listen to her and resonate with her feelings, but I always end the discussion with the same affirmation:  I look her in the eye and tell her "It doesn't matter if you're super fast or not.  You're a great runner, and that's what counts".  She understands, however when I said this to her recently, I got a different response than the usual nod of agreement.  She looked at me like I had a huge zit on my nose.  "What do you define as a 'good' runner?" she asked.  Very good question, since I clearly don't think that just because someone is fast, it means they're a good runner.  So, in my twelve years of running every distance from a 5K to a 100-miler, this is the conclusion I've come to in terms of what it means to be a "good" runner.  The "Liam Philosophy", if you will.

Good runners don't needlessly beat themselves up when they have an off day.  Off days happen, rough races happen, and guess what? DNF's happen too, my friends.  I completely understand that it's normal to be frustrated with one's self when they aren't at their best.  That's completely okay.  But being mean and degrading to yourself is not okay.  A lot of runners struggle with this, and honestly, I'm no exception.  Throughout my running career I've gotten better at not psychologically abusing myself and understanding that I can't be at my best all the time.  Think about professional sports, especially hockey and basketball, where the teams play multiple times per week.  They're not going to win every single game.  We would all love that for our home teams, but it's just not realistic.  The fact that every team loses games validates the fact that the players cannot be at their best twenty-four seven.  Most dedicated runners lace up their shoes and throw down at least four runs per week.  That's an average of sixteen runs per month, two-hundred and eight runs per year.  Uh, hello! You're not going to have your best run all two hundred and eight times.  Same goes with races.  Some races will feel tougher than others, and some will go unfinished.  When runners have a bad race, their minds automatically focus on what went wrong and how they can prevent it going forward.  That's the right attitude, but sometimes there is no clear cut and dry answer.  Some days we just don't have it.  Sometimes we just have to say "you know what? It is what it is.  I had an off day.  I can't be at my best everyday" and leave it at that.  Easier said than done, but it's the truth.  Just because you have an off day doesn't mean you aren't a solid performer.

A good runner knows their limits.  Sure, sometimes we make the mistake of pushing our bodies too hard which results in puking, cramping, injuries, or in extreme cases, even soiling our shorts.  Good runners learn from those mistakes.  They listen to their bodies and know when they need to back off so they don't self-destruct.  We've all heard "those" people who say things like "if you're not puking or if you don't need to be carried away from the finish line, you didn't push hard enough".  What a load of horse manure.  As I said, mistakes happen, but good runners know when to take it easy so they don't consistently assume the role of vomit boy or girl or poo themselves just to finish that half marathon two minutes faster than their current PR.  I would much rather finish a race feeling strong with a smile on my face and be able to walk away to have a celebratory beer.  That beats the hell out of running the race ten minutes faster, puking everywhere, collapsing at the finish line, and yelling like I'm in labor before being carried away by medical staff.

A good runner knows how to be patient.  You're a six-minute mile runner, you can run an eighteen-minute 5K and a two hour and forty-minute marathon.  That's awesome and it certainly deserves massive kudos.  But, can you run slowly on purpose?  An early running mentor of mine back in Chicago recommended that instead of trying to run at lightning speed all the time that I try running at a slow pace instead.  He said that by doing so, my fitness would improve.  And it sure has.  If I go running alone, sometimes it's nice to throw down a thirty-minute four miler, but it is also important to be able to run at what I like to call "ultra pace".  Ultra pace is between twelve and fifteen-minute miles, and is the ideal pace for me to maintain while doing a fifty-miler or 100K so I can sustain my energy levels and get to the finish line.  I practice running ultra pace for four, five, or six mile distances regularly with my friend Byron, who is new to running.  Being able to run ultra pace on purpose, even for short distances, not only improves my fitness, it also teaches me to be patient.  I've been on several group runs where we've started off running together at a modest pace, but the fast guys quickly grow impatient and tell everyone that they're going to push ahead and that they'll see the rest of us later.  Distance running is a mind game.  When I do a long race, I have to cope with the fact that I will be out there for a while.  The best way for me to do that is by teaching myself to be patient.  This means running at ultra pace, even when I want to go faster.

Good runners are the master of their own reality.  They don't compare themselves to other runners.  They don't try to out do others simply because they have something to prove.  Friendly competition is okay, but good runners don't let other people get in their heads and they don't obsess over how their performance compares to their own.  What it all boils down to is that every runner is their own unique person.  Everyone has their own unique physical attributes, their own talents, and their own personal stuff going on outside of running.  In other words, we are who we are, we aren't anyone else.  There will always be people who are better runners.  I know damn well that there are countless people out there who are better runners than me.  I don't fight it, I accept it.  They may be better, but they're not me.  They don't have my life.  Athletically speaking, good runners would rather be themselves than anybody else.  We're all the master of our own universe.  We do us, and everyone else can do them.  The bi-product of this is that good runners celebrate other people's success rather than think of them as schmucks because they perform just as well or better.    

Finally, good runners know that they can't have all four of the above qualities pulsing through their veins at all times.  We can't be at our best all the time, remember?  What I do is I remember these four principles and I hold myself accountable to them.  All runners know subconsciously that they are good runners even though we all have to check ourselves sometimes.  Because let's face it; if we didn't know deep down that we were good runners, we'd just throw our running shoes away and give up when things become difficult.  But we don't.  We keep going because we believe in ourselves, and that's what counts.