Dick Collins Firetrails 50

I had forgotten the specific date of the 50-miler when I first signed up, but upon finding out it was on the same day as Kona, I just thought how apropos. Running 50 miles on Oct. 8 was a nice way to "be" with the Kona peeps without being in Kona, and I think it gave me something to focus on other than not being able to be in Kona. Training for this run made me realize, like I often do when I'm training for an ironman, how much the body can endure. Prior to race week, I put in a 103-mile week with over 14,000' of climbing, including back-to-back days of 30+ mile runs. But still, I had a healthy dose of fear because my longest run was only 32 miles, still 18 miles short of what I would be running. I say healthy dose of fear because it's the type of fear that motivates you in a race; it's the fear that told me the last 20 miles could be a world of hurt and to just suffer through it.

Race morning dawned and I immediately realized how simple the preparations are for a 50-mile run compared to an ironman...SWEET! The run started at 6:30 AM, still dark, and I was thankful for the experienced ultra runners who had the foresight to bring headlamps, because I was the stupid triathlete stumbling in the dark. I also thought it was pretty cool that not one single person was warming up. My friend Chris pointed out a couple of guys who are capable of actually racing this thing, because for the majority of us, it's just about survival. My plan was just to run, and let my body dictate the speed, never feeling like I'm pushing it, sort of like what we all do when we go for an LSD run. Surprisingly, this plan brought me to the 26-mile mark in 3 hours and 45 minutes, much faster than I anticipated. The only glitch thus far was a bee sting at mile 15, where I had to stop and pull out the stinger. I was in the top 20 at this point and after downing a red bull, I sprouted wings and I flew up the next three hilly miles, moving me into the top 8 or so. The picture above is of me at the 30-mile mark, still smiling. But soon after, just as I had anticipated, things started to get rough during the last 20 miles. I knew these miles, very similar to the last miles of an ironman marathon, my athletic performance would be dictated by nutrition. My stomach was definitely sensitive 4+ hours into running, and I just tried to eat whenever I wasn't feeling nauseous. Thus, my pace and effort was like that of sine wave, going up and down at steady intervals in relation to my ability to absorb food. Miles 40-50 were pretty rough and I finally succumbed to walking, but I commended myself because I saw the experienced ultra dudes succumb to walking much earlier than me. Hmm...but then again, they always flew by me on the downhills which was very discouraging, now I'm thinking their walking might have actually been a well-played strategy, I guess I am a stupid triathlete. With about six miles to go, I started to come around knowing the end was near, and I felt myself start to push it. Then I asked myself why? I was well on pace to fulfill my goal of breaking 8 hours, so I just told myself this is a bonus race, there's no reason to push, just enjoy. I spent the last 4 miles revisiting my season, and just finding the joy in running. Those last miles were pretty fast pace-wise, but they felt effortless, and it dawned on me that this must be what happens when you are able to transcend and actually embrace the effort rather than fight it. It would have been nice to learn this about, oh, three to four ironmans earlier? Next time I race for more than 7 hours, there best be some swimming and biking involved.

Half-Assed

In the past two weeks, I've learned you can actually get a lot of training done even if you are half-assed. My buddy Chris, the one from Clif Bar and who I lost as an ironman training partner when he and his wife decided to have two sons, has been trying to get me to do a trail run race with him all season. Now that I have time, just my luck that it's a 50-mile run with 7800' of climbing. But like I said, I'm half committed...I'm not signed up for the race and I'm just going to see how the "training" goes.

On Tuesday, I finished a 17-mile run, making it 39 miles in three days, and I immediately thought, "How the hell am I going to run 50 miles in one sitting!?!!?" I was thoroughly satiated by the end of the 17-miler, and to think that I would have to continue for another 33 miles, I just couldn't wrap my mind around it. I still can't wrap my mind around it, so I try not to and just run as long and as often as I can, without making it feel like "training".

Logging in all of these run miles, without cycling, makes me think about the cycling/running balance. I know that cycling inhibits running and thus, it's important to always make sure you are cycling as much as you can without inhibiting your running. I started my 17-miler on the third of three consecutive days of running, and based on triathlon training, I was expecting dead legs and a very slow run. I purposefully did not allow myself to check my Garmin, and just ran on feel. Feel alone felt pretty good. Finally, I succumbed and checked at the 5-mile mark and I was averaging 7:09 pace, hellz no. The run was fairly hilly and when I was done 17 miles later, my watch read 7:15 average pace, I let out an even bigger hellz no. Not only am I reminded of how good you can feel running without cycling, but I'm also amazed at what you can accomplish half-assing something.

Hell Hath No Fury Like...A Nutritional Bonk

The past couple of days of training, I was reminded of the importance of nutrition. On Wednesday, I had an epic bonk while doing a very hilly trail run with my friend Chris, who is training for a 50-miler. Not only did Chris extend our 90-minute run to almost two hours, but he did so setting a torrid pace. My longest run had been 80 minutes and nutritionally, my body could not take both the distance and pace. The last two miles were not training, it was survival. Upon arrival home, I was nauseous and my stomach was sensitive and I couldn't eat much. I basically had a smoothie and went to bed. The next day, I started what was intended to be a 3-hour hilly ride with some strong efforts. From the start, I knew I had not met my caloric needs from the bonk the day prior, but I soldiered on hoping for the best. Thoughts of turning around and going home crossed my mind, but staying true to my OCD/Type A triathlete self, I pushed on hoping I would come around. Well, 90-minutes into the ride, I was now trying to figure out how I would make it home. Like the run the day prior, this ride was no longer about training but about survival. Hell hath no fury like the nutritional bonk.

The nutritional bonk is absolute hell. It's the reason why you see age-groupers passing fit professionals on the race course, specifically ironman races. Once you are in the nutritional bonk, it is no longer about athleticism. You are no longer trying to move fast, but instead, you are just trying to move, or worse, stay upright. Not only does a nutritional bonk take a physical toll, it wreaks havoc on the mind as well. Your head is in a haze and you can't even think clearly to rectify the situation. At some point during my ride, I realized that I was no longer training but just trying to get home. I was still one hour from home and with two daunting climbs remaining, I somehow pulled a somewhat coherent thought, "Kiet, all you have right now is your attitude. Just keep a good attitude and keep trying..and keep eating." And just like that, I was doing very specific ironman training.

After two days of bonking, I decided to skip my run on Friday (mental note: the threshold for an OCD/Type A triathlete to make a wise decision is two consecutive bonk days). Saturday was a 7-hour training day and can you guess what I absolutely made sure I nailed besides the 3 x 40 min tempo climbs...my nutrition. My teammates were teasing me all day long about the amount of food I was eating. But guess who pulled away during the last 40-minute tempo climb with a full belly and equal amount of energy, guilty. Come Sunday, you would think I would be quite the sagacious one with nutrition. Nope. Once again, a nutritional nightmare but l problem-solved and got the work done. I'm now convinced that when it comes to triathlons, we are a couple of gels short of a disaster. I banked 22 hours this week and most of it, very ironman specific training. And yes, that is an egg on top of two meat patties, waiting for a bun with both bacon and cheese to lay on top. You only have one life...albeit a shorter life after putting that in my body.