The Virtual Couch - A Blog by Tony Overbay

St. George Marathon 2011 Race Report - It was Cramptastic!

2011-11-07T11:10:00.000-08:00

LastSaturday I had the privilege of toe’ing the line with over 7,000 runners forthe 35^th annual St. George marathon. This was my 8^th timerunning what is routinely touted as one of the top 10 marathons in the US, bothfrom an organizational standpoint as well as from sheer beauty. Plus it’s fast!I’ve thrown down two Boston qualifying times in my last two visits to St.George, Utah running 3:14 and 3:13 respectively. It’s one of the rare marathonsthat you can actually run a negative split, meaning that your second half canbe faster than your first half (assuming you don’t go into “tin man” mode withyour knees not being able to bend somewhere after mile 20).

And if youwould have asked me a week before the marathon I would have told you that I wasconfident that another PR was on the horizon (foreshadowing!). Thanks to somespeed tips from uber-blogger and trail speedster Scott Dunlap I had spent theweeks after my Lake Tahoe hundred miler in July putting in my fair share oftempo runs and the infamous “Yasso 800’s” on the treadmill. And while I didn’tquite get to the 10 x 800’s at 6 min/mile pace (I topped out at 8!), the magicnumber to hit if you wanted to assure yourself a pretty good chance at runninga 3 hour (or less!) marathon, I was pretty confident that my speed work wouldat least get me sub 3:10. I was running more weekly miles than I have been inthe past, with the one day of speed, one day of hills, a couple of longer runs,I was ready! It was actually nice to get back to some serious speed workouts,too. I love my ultras, I love going really long, figuring out my body, food,hydration, you name it, but nothing feels better than pushing yourself sodarned hard on the track/treadmill that you almost want to throw up, but can’tquite commit.

The weekbefore the marathon my wife, our friend Ben Clark and I competed in the CliffBar Team Triathlon challenge. This event is always held the Saturday before St.George and I’ve teamed up with Ben and a couple of guys in the past to competein the team division. Two years my wife and my brother-in-law Nate joinedforces to compete in the family division and this year with my wife and Benwe’d be competing in the co-ed division. Wendy would swim, Ben would bike and Iwould run. My portion was only 5 miles, but it was on very hilly terrainincluding a couple of monster climbs and a few sections across the sand whichmakes you work extra hard to keep the pace.

In the past,I’ve gone out fast, done pretty well and then found myself sore through most ofthe week leading up to St. George thanks to turning on the after-burners at theCliff Bar event. This year I found myself in the same boat. I ran hard, placed8^th overall on the run and Wendy, Ben and I won the co-ed division (team name Trinomyte)!Yeah, we brought home hardware! Quick side note. My friend Jay loves to playthe role of the guy who doesn’t really get running races like marathons, 50’s,hundred, you name it, meaning that for 99% of the people who run them, you’reessentially competing against yourself. You’re never going to win, you do itbecause you love it, you set goals, you love the training, and you love thesense of accomplishment (and you especially love the excuse to eat like a P-I-Gfor a week afterward). But inevitably you run into the folks who see you sometimeafter your race and they ask you, “how’d you do, did you win?” Kids are exempt,by the way. They can ask that question, but I remember running the BostonMarathon back in 2007 and coming back to church and a person (we’ll leave themnameless) asked if I “placed?” I wanted to say…

“You know,there I was, all 5’7” and 160 lbs of me, still belching pasta and candy fromthe night before, hanging tight in the lead back with a group of Kenyan’s andEthopians, trying my best to get on the medal stand, but alas, I lost my edgeand finished in 10,417^th place!”

But back tomy tangent. Jay will always ask if I won and we have a quick laugh. I can’tlie, it never gets old. It turns out that Jay’s daughter went to the event withmy oldest to watch. When she got home Jay thought he’d have his fun in advancewith his daughter. He told us afterward that he said, “So, did they win?”

To which shereplied, “Yeah, actually they did!”

He said thatthe joke will never be the same.

Ben, Wendy and me grabbing the hardware. Big thanks to Wendy for letting me stand at the top so I wouldn't look shorter than her, and notice her patented knee bend to give me an extra inch or two.

But so wewon. I figured I’d be sore for a few days and then I’d shake it off and throwdown a PR. I even tried something pretty extreme in the name of recovery, afterthe race I visited a cryotherapy chamber and walked in circles in a room thatwas -200 degrees…no, that’s not a typo, that’s another article altogether! Itwas amazing, and I have to say that it seemed to have worked. I wasn’t sore onSunday, the day after the race or on Monday so I was getting extremely excitedabout the upcoming race.

And then byTuesday I had a sore throat, sinus congestion and I felt weak. I couldn’tbelieve it! Of all the times to get a cold/flu, just days before the race. Iwent into my vitamin C, Emergen’C, Zicam, fluid routine and I was determined tobeat this thing by race day. Wednesday I saw 9 clients, and I was miserable(but provided good therapy, don’t get me wrong!). By Thursday I was on the mendand when we drove down to St. George Thursday night (stayed 3 hours south inFresno Thursday night), and then on Friday morning (8 hours through the Mohave,and Vegas), I felt decent, but I was experiencing a very dry mouth and feltlike I couldn’t drink enough water. OK, let’s be honest. I was holding back atiny bit on the fluids on Friday in the car because I HATE being the guy whohas to stop and pee every half an hour. It’s not my kids, it’s ME! So betweenthe lingering sickness and my not wanting the trip to take an extra 4 hours Ihit St. George dry as the, well, the Mohave desert!

We made itinto St. George Friday night and hit the expo. I love trail races, I love theultras, but there’s something pretty magical about being at a race expo forsomething as big as St. George. The atmosphere is buzzing, and everybodywalking around (for the most part) looks like a runner. I was excited, butcurious about how my being sick would play out. The last time I was sick theweek leading up to a race was before the 2009 Lake Sonoma 50 miler. I ended upgetting severely dehydrated, had to spend some time at mile 25 and 30 trying toshow the medics I could make water like a big boy, and then I eventuallyfinished in under 12 hours, my slowest 50 mile time by a ways, but I was glad Ifinished.

After a nicepasta dinner at the home of my mother-and-father-in-law, and a prettyimpressive (and lucky!) BYU college football victory against Utah State (I’m aU of U graduate so I openly cheered against BYU so the victory was all the moresweeter for my season-ticket-holding mother-in-law)I set my race gear aside andwas able to fall asleep quickly. I set an alarm at 4 AM and managed to sleepright up until 3:50 AM. If there’s one benefit of racing so much over the pastfew years it’s that I truly don’t get nervous anymore, which helps a great dealwhen it comes to sleeping the night of the race. I remember back in the daystaying up late and getting up early. I’m actually starting to get a bitnervous that I’ll set my alarm wrong and sleep through the start of a race atsome point.

In every oneof my previous St. George marathons I was joined by my old running buddy TomWagner, and on several occasions my sister-in-law Sherie. Unfortunately bothare nursing injuries so I was left to run on my own. Tom typically picks us up,so getting to the start was on me. Initially my wife volunteered to take me,but I didn’t want her to have to wake up early, so I had decided I would runthe 3 or 4 miles to the finish line area and catch a bus to the start…if DeanKarnazes can run 100 miles to start of a 100 mile race (covering 200 miles!) Ifigure I can tack a few onto the start of a marathon. But in the end my wifewas offered my mother-in-laws car to shuttle the kids to the finish so I hadthe rental car to get me there. St. George, in an effort to get folks on the 90something buses it takes to drive people from the finish to the start, offerssome raffle prizes if you fill the first 15 buses. I like prizes, so I was seton getting there at 4 AM. BUT, the night before the race I figured out that thestart time was 6:45 AM , not 6 AM as I had previously thought, and a free pairof gloves wasn’t enough to get me to sit at the start for 2 hours, with orwithout the cool bonfires! So I took my time after getting up and eventuallyheaded to the finish line around 4:45 AM and was on a bus by 5 AM.

Trueconfession, it’s fun to sit by a rookie riding to the start of their firstmarathon, or even somebody who has only run a handful. I work in an ultra storyor two (“I just ran a hundred in July so I’m hoping I can still find my speedylegs for this distance!”) like a complete ego-maniac and then I sit back andhold court for the rest of the trip. Well, this time it didn’t work out thatway. My seat partner and I started talking and it turns out he’s a sponsoredtriathlete who does ironman distances and has done an ultra or two and is a2:40’ish marathoner! While he acted very nicely impressed with my 100’s, he wasclearly the alpha dog…I mean come on, 2:40 marathon!!! His name was HeathThurston, and he went on to run a pretty impressive 2:54, just incredible.Heath said that he teaches swimming and lives in Utah and that in 3 sessions hecould have me ready for a tri (or at least to be able to train for a tri) soI’m going to take him up on it during a visit to see my parents in thenot-too-distant future. I’m dying to try a tri (yes, that was on purpose) but,and I say this is the voice of Martin Short in the classic Saturday Night LiveSychronized Swimmer sketch (click through to watch, best sketch ever)… “I’m not that strong a swimmer!” I’d be the guy inthe race rocking floaties and coming out of the water dead last! But hopefullyHeath will set me straight and I’ll finally get to try an ironman soon!

The bus gotto the start around 5:40 AM so I had an hour to kill. I immediately made my wayto the porta potties and I was feeling smart for bringing along a cheapflashlight to help me shed a little light on what I was about to do. But to mysurprise it looked like they had an insane number of lights up at the startthis year and I didn’t need the flashlight. I still had an hour to kill so Ifound a spot on the road, close to a bonfire laid my drop bag down and used itas a pillow and lay down for a while and just watched and listened to everybodynervously chatting about the race. This was where I missed having Tom andSherrie with me to pass the time. I finally broke into a conversation happeningimmediately to my right between a couple of young 20 something friends, boy anda girl, that were attempting their first marathon.

Girl says,“I wonder how bad it’s going to hurt toward the end?”

Boy says,“It can’t be that bad, right, our 20 miler wasn’t horrible?”

So I jump inand say, “You guys ever seen the Wizard of Oz? Think about the tin man, becausethat’s what the last few miles are going to feel like.”

Boy says,“Thanks for the words of encouragement!” We laugh and then talk for 5 minutesor so about what to expect. I wish I remembered their names, because when Iasked him what he was shooting for time-wise, he said, “sub-3.” And to hiscredit he followed that up with, “hey, go big or go home, right?” I so wish Iknew if he made sub-3, or if he death-marched it in the last 5 or 6 aftercompletely blowing up!?

Thanks to acouple of my previous St. George times, and based on my putting an anticipatedtime of 3:10 in when I registered, I was given a number that allowed me rightup to the second “corral.” I was able to work my way through a ton of folks andstart right behind the elites. I just have to say, it’s pretty darned fun, andimpressive, just to look around at the people that are up there. The guyspretty much look like what you’d think…the opposite of my short, stocky self.For the most part they were tall and lean. The women were in serious shape! Ifelt out of place, and my homemade arm warmers didn’t help. I have cool Moebenarm warmers, several pair that have been given out at some of the ultras I’verun, but I didn’t want to wear them the entire run (and pushing them down kindof drives me nuts after a while) so I took a pair of tube socks and cut out thetoes and then threw them on my arms. Thankfully as a member of the Brooks team,I had a Brooks jersey, so I think I may have passed for looking like somewhatof a runner, but a runner that should have been father back in the pack forsure.

In what feltlike a matter of seconds, the horn went off and we were running! It was dark,and I have to say that starting up at the front is amazing when you’re tryingto get out quickly. I’ve run that marathon a few times where you’re just stuckin a crowd, first mile or two splits are slow! But there I was off like a shotand while there were plenty of people around me, there weren’t enough to makeit awkward to run.

I hadstarted my watch, and with it being dark I was unable to see my pace. The milemarkers had clocks at them showing overall time. I felt nice and relaxed andfigured that I was probably going faster than I thought, but I came through thefirst mile at 7:10 and semi-panicked, I was supposed to be running sub-7’s! Itold myself not to worry and at mile 2 I was at 14:10, I would continue toknock about 5 second off per mile until I hit the 5 mile mark (I remember,because I told myself I had to wait until 5 miles to stop and pee!) at 34:30,so I was now averaging under a 7 minute mile and I can’t lie, I was feeling OK.On the negative side, it was getting lighter and I had looked down at my watcha couple of times and thought everything was OK, but now when I looked down Isaw that I had accidentally stopped my watch after 385 yards of running!!!Ahhhh, I live for that darned GPS! (As a matter of fact I jumped on a plane toJapan the day after the marathon and I sit here now in my hotel in Hachiojijust back from a run in which I didn’t have my GPS, I left it in the US for mywife, and I couldn’t believe how badly I wanted to know how far and how fast Ihad gone!).

I started itup and I would be almost exactly 5 miles off for the rest of the day. Miles 6and 7 flew by and I entered the small town of Veyo and the ominous Veyo hill.This thing killed me two years ago so this year I was determined to just slowit down a little and power my way to the top, regroup while trying to pick thepace back up and see what I had. I crossed the 7 mile mark and forgot to lookat the clock, my watch wasn’t correct now so I just yelled out to a couple ofguys on my right if they caught our split. They said it was 48:20, so I wasstill under a 7 min/mile pace.

In talkingwith Heath on the ride up, I asked him how a 2:40 marathoner took Veyo. He saidhe just shortened his stride, pumped his arms and powered on up. I shortened mystride, kept the arms moving and hung steady. I looked at my watch a few timeson the uphill and I was keeping a steady pace in the upper 8 min/mile range. Imade it to the top without getting passed, and by passing a few people towardthe end. I was happy with my effort, but admittedly my legs felt a bit tired.

Veyo hill, thankfully I was a bit ahead of this group. This picture "borrowed" from Matt's Big Adventure blog (thanks Matt, great picture!)

Now, herebegin the excuses. Remember, I’m still on pace at this point, but I was alsosick leading up to the race and on the day before I did a really dumb thing. Wewere driving 8 hours from Fresno (where we had stopped for the night as Imentioned earlier) and I just wanted to get to St. George. I typically drink alot anyway (and pee a ton!) and on the day or two leading up to a race I drinkeven more (and pee even more!). But I didn’t want to be the guy who had to stopmore than my kids, so I was holding back on the fluids, it was dumb, but I feltit was necessary. I tried to make up for it once we got to St. George, but Iworried it was too little, too late. Plus about 15 mins before the race I went3 times! Then that time at mile 5 and that was it for the race (see my last St.George where I went 10 times!!!). I was also blowing snot-rockets like theywere going out of style (sorry for the visual) and coughing up what appeared tobe small pieces of lung! So while I had been feeling fine, I also was startingto slowly come to terms with what I felt would be the inevitable slow down.

Mile 8 wasgood, mile 9 two things happened. First, I skipped it in my head. I saw my timeat mile 8 and then thought it was mile 9, doing the math, I was absolutelyamazed at where I’d be at 10 miles. I was doing math that told me that even ifI ran 8 min miles I’d hit the halfway mark under 1:30! Then I saw the mile 10marker coming up…and it said mile 9! Darned it, there went my effortlesssub-1:30 half! Then, about 9 ½ miles in, I experienced my first cramp. I don’tget cramps (unless it’s that time of the month!) but my right hammy poked at mefast, and hard and I did a little skip. I slowed to a power walk, tried to lookcool, and started shuffling my feet just to keep moving at a decent rate. Itworked, to a point, and I was able to get back to a rhythm. This would become apattern later in the race, to the point of comedy. I’d never know when a crampwas coming, and depending on where it would hit, i.e. thigh, hammy, calf, itwould make me do a little dance until I could recover. But part of the victoryof the day was that I would keep going.

I wouldcontinue thought-out the race to get more and more cramps. I had salt tablets(I was thinking like an ultrarunner) and I tried taking them as they typicallyhelp with cramps, but it was no luck. I would also experience side cramps frommile 13 until the end. What was I, 7 years old? I haven’t had a side crampsince Jason Ramsey and I were in 5^th grade trying to run away fromhis goats after they got a taste of fun after head butting his brother Craig!

I hit mile13 at 1:35 on the nose. Not a bad half, it would equate to a 3:10 if I couldkeep it up, and St. George is a marathon where I’ve actually run a negativesplit in the past (run the 2^nd 13 miles faster than the 1^st13) thanks to some incredible downhill, but I also knew that with the cramping,and just knowing how a body works when it’s dehydrated, I knew that I wasn’tgoing to be running any negative splits on this day. What I did was slow mypace a little and I just decided to enjoy the day. I ran next to somebody whowas telling his friend that he was struggling and that he just wanted to makeit to mile 15 and get to the downhill. I started thinking the same thing andrealized we were only talking a couple of miles. My pace had now settled in the7 + min/mile range, but it was a comfortable pace. I started chatting withpeople as I passed them, or they passed me, and as we began seeing folks liningthe course in the areas where they had access, I had an opportunity to slap 5’swith little kids! I love being the guy who slaps 5’s! My race bib had my firstname printed on it as well, so in getting that close to the kids, plenty ofadults were yelling, “looking good Tony!” and “Way to go Tony!” which kept megoing.

The mileswere truly flying by. One of the things that I love about this marathon is thatthere is a pretty good line of sight between most of the mile markers. Eachmile is marked by large, gray balloons and you can see them from far away. Soit seems like once you past one mile marker another is quickly in view. I hitmiles 14 and 15 continuing to slow just a bit as a various part of my leg orthigh would complain just a little bit. My chest was also getting a little raw,I’m guessing a left over from being sick just a few days before (did I mentionthat I was sick a few days before? I’M KIDDING, I realize I sound like a totalcomplainer and an excuse factory!).

Miles 15 onstarted to become a blur. One of the things that I am most satisfied with fromthis race was just my ability to keep moving at a not so shabby pace. I mightnot have been sub 7 any longer, but I was high 7’s and low 8’s, and then once Ihit the 20’s (miles) I went back and forth between the low 8’s to high 8’s.Only at miles 24 and 25 did I finally hit a 9 min mile and that was once myinner left thigh started joining in on the cramping fun! But even then I wasable to do a little hop step that kept me running. I feel like in marathons ofthe past I really would have stopped and walked, and this just proved to meonce again that the mind is really more in control in these races than the bodyat times, and I hope that experiences like these will help me get a better timewith everything comes together in the future.

The last 3or 4 miles of this race are incredible. You finally hit the town and people arelining the streets, cheering you on, loudly. There are people with boom boxesplaying songs, high school bands, the atmosphere is…I was going to sayBoston-like, but it’s better. Sure, Boston has people lining the streets all 26miles, but these last 3 or 4 the people just feel more engaged, like they arecheering for YOU and not just cheering because they’re at a marathon.

I continuedto look for any little hand to slap, anyone to say “thank you” to. I knew thatI was slowing down, but I also knew that I was still running! I knew with a fewmiles to go that my time was going to be better than I had anticipated earlieron. Even as I crossed the midway point at 1:35 I thought I was looking atsomewhere between 3:30 – 3:40 but with a few miles to go I was sure I’d gounder 3:30, and with less than 3 to go I knew I was going to get 3:25 or less.I can’t lie, though, I was getting passed more than I had hoped as everybodycould smell the finish and I was pretty impressed with the kicks that peoplecoming in at that time still had. There were still a few walkers at that point,people that had obviously gone out too fast and were resigned to a death march.

With twomiles to go I started looking for somebody who I could ask to text my wife soshe would know to start looking for me. With a little over a mile to go I saw awoman sitting on the curb holding an iPhone. I knew she’d be a texter and I yelled over, “Can you text my wife for me?”She was great, she jumped into action, standing up and asking me for hernumber. I didn’t want to stop for too long so I asked her if she’d walk with meand she did. I told her Wendy’s number and she relayed the message, “Tony isabout 1 mile out, should be around 9 or 10 minutes.” Wendy would get the textafter the race :-)

On that lastmile I decided I would chat up a couple of people just to keep me going. I cameupon an older man, impressed with his race. I asked him how he was doing and hesaid he was struggling and that this would be his last marathon. He wasn’t toohappy. But then he told me that he had done dozens and dozens of marathons andhad, up until a couple of years earlier, strung together a streak of 16consecutive sub-3 hour marathons! This guy was impressive!

I turned thefinal corner and the place is just going nuts, not just for me, but foreverybody. My left inner thigh cramps up big time and I have to change my gaitdramatically, but I don’t care at that point, I start looking from left toright until I finally see my family, Wendy, Jake and Sydney, and mymother-in-law Dody and her husband Tad. I give it a little kick at the end toget by a couple of people and I cross the line at 3:23:03. 10 minutes slowerthan my PR on a day where fitness-wise I truly should have crushed it, but Iwas happy to have kept going, happy to be done.

You walkthough some mister / showers and then a volunteer is there waiting to place amedal around your neck. I hobbled over to the right of the finishing corral andfound a place to wait for Wendy, she always will find me to congratulate me andmy legs were just going nuts, firing in all sorts of places. I told her thatone had been hard which still just felt weird to say , the distance isn’tintimidating at all anymore, and it’s hard to noodle through running 100 mileswith tens of thousands of feet of uphill and downhill climbs in the altitude ofTahoe and have your legs be fine and then run a “short” distance like this andfall apart. I’m convinced that it’s just the speed, maybe the 26 miles of solidpavement? No walk breaks? Not full buffet-style aid stations? Whatever it is, Istill love it, despite my affinity toward the longer races, I think I’ll alwayslove getting back on the roads to test the speed in my legs.

I made myway through the runner’s area and out the other side so Wendy could snap mypicture and we met my nephew Josh and his wife Sunny and their cute 3-year-oldat the park. I was dying to sit down on the ground and as I started to make myway down, a guy close to us started SCREAMING and that is no joke, screaming inpain as his legs cramped. I just looked at my wife and said, “I guess at leastI’m not that guy!”

We ate lunchfrom Café Rio, dinner was at 5 Guys burgers (for the fries and fry sauce) andan Oreo-Chocolate Chip “Concrete” from Nielsen’s frozen custard, all post-St.George traditions, and admittedly part of the draw to this marathon! We woke upearly the next day and hit the road with Wendy dropping me off at the Vegasairport so I could fly to Japan. My legs were incredibly sore for the first fewdays and my Japanese business partners got a kick out of watching me struggleup and down the steep stairs of their building. I was able to run 3 miles on atreadmill by Wednesday. I skipped Thursday, and then ran half an hour outsideon Friday with my legs giving up on me at the end but Saturday (today) I wasable to run for an hour without any trouble along the Hachioji River, pursingmy continuous goal when I run overseas of trying to get a dog to bark at me inanother language (one of my Japanese business partners says that little kids inJapan learn that dogs say “Hun hun!” I want one to say that to me.

As always,huge thanks to out to the St. George marathon organizers. I can’t imagineputting on a race of that size. The volunteers are amazing, from the expo tothe starting line, from the aid stations folks to the finish line. I believethat’s my 8^th St. George, 2 more and I’m in the 10 year club, andgoodbye lottery! You can put your name in the virtual hat starting April 1,2012, I’ll set my reminders now.

The Stats! Ilove the numbers, so just in case you do, too, here are some geeky mile splits,pace per mile, etc.

Skipping thefirst 5 miles, my splits for the final 21 miles were…actually, and for therecord I’m horrible with math (undergraduate degree in Mass Communications withan emphasis in public relations / minor in Psychology required one math class,which I got a C in, and that was after grabbing a nerdy kid in my fraternity tospend hours with me before the final, the only final to this day, I contend, inwhich I raised my overall grade after taking, and my Master’s degree is a “Mastersof Science in Counseling, Marriage, Family and Child Therapy” i.e. NO math),well, here goes:

My finishingtime was 3:23:20, good for 587^th place out of 7,000 or so runners.My watch shows 21.20 miles in 2:48:35 (which I truly wish was my time for thewhole thing!). Incidentally, stats on those last 21.20 miles are a 7:57/milepace burning 2,677 calories over that span. Soooo, that means that I had mywatch off for exactly 5 miles. Take my finishing time minus my watch time andthose first 5 miles were 34 minutes 45 seconds, or an average over the first 5miles of 6 min 57 seconds per mile (and probably another 625 calories). Totaloverall per mile pace 7:45/mile. Again, not what I set out to do, but I shouldn’tbe complaining!

Per milethen from mile 6 to 26

Mile 6, 6:35

Mile 7, 7:01

Mile 8, 8:02

Mile 9, 7:52

Mile 10, 7:36

Mile 11, 8:01

Mile 12, 8:07

Mile 13, 7:43

Mile 14, 7:38

Mile 15, 7:03

Mile 16, 7:04

Mile 17, 7:29

Mile 18, 7:55

Mile 19, 8:36

Mile 20, 8:20

Mile 21, 7:34

Mile 22, 8:11

Mile 23, 8:36

Mile 24, 8:36

Mile 25, 9:41

Mile 26, 9:12

8.35 for .20 miles to the finish (whichI’m pretty proud of because all of the cramps decided the last half mile tojoin together in a fireworks display of muscle cramps and odd pains for a grandfinale making me run looking like I had lost complete control of all legfunction).

100 Miles at Altitude! My 2011 Lake Tahoe 100 Mile Endurance Run Race Report

2011-10-04T15:02:00.000-07:00

I’m finishingthis race report up on September 20^th, a mere 2 months after therace ended. One would think that I’ve learned my lesson by now. Write it soonafter the event and the memories are still far more vivid. As I’ve written manytimes, for pure justification sake as one wonders why one would write an 11,700word race report other than to scream to anyone who will listen “hey, look whatI did!” I view these race reports as a long personal journal entry (and Ihighly recommend keeping a journal by the way) as well as a document that onecan read who is looking for more info on the race itself. I read everythingthat I can before running a new race, so for the guy or girl who has come herelooking for info on the TRT 100, read on if you like detail, and if not, let mejust say that this was one incredible, gorgeous race! I have challenged myselfto try and write less, but I think more of that “journal” angle comes into playand I find myself going off on tangets. I’ve also been surprised at how oftenI’ve opened up a race report a year or two later before running the race again,and I read my race report like it was somebody else’s. A true testament to howquickly my memory is failing me now that I’m blown past the age of 40 (andstaring very quickly at 42!). So if you’ll indulge me, here is my race reportfor the 2011 Tahoe Rim Trail 100 Mile Endurance Run.

There Istood, December of 2010 in the Placer High School cafeteria at the 2011 WesternStates lottery, watching the lucky person whose playing card had just beendrawn walk up to the front and claim the final entry into the 2011 WesternStates 100 mile endurance run. The previous year, my first in the lottery, myname was called about half way through, and the rest of the lottery was a blur,all smiles, interrupted every now and again by sheer panic. Fast forward a fewmonths and I had the run of my life, loving the day and missing out on thecoveted Silver Buckle (sub 24 hour finish) by 18 minutes! At the time I toldeverybody I didn’t care, but as the days passed I wanted another crack atWestern States, and based on my previous experience, you put your name in thelottery, the lottery gods smile upon you and you get picked and run. Only thistime, I wasn’t picked!

My firstthought was to take the season off, this was my brief pity party. That lasted aday or two and then I was determined to pick another 100 miler for 2011. I hadrun the Rio Del Lago 100 in 2009 and had a great run! I ran States in 2010 andloved it! I wondered if 100 milers were truly my “wheelhouse” so I wasdetermined to pick a new adventure and go for it! I first thought about puttingin for the Wasatch 100 lottery, the course ran practically through my backyardgrowing up in Utah. But I hesitated and didn’t turn in my application in time.I then semi-forgot about picking, or running, a 100 miler and instead startedfocusing on the American River 50 miler in April. And then I got a call from afriend, Scott Suchomel. Scott called and left a message that he was signing upfor the 2011 Tahoe Rim Trail 50 mile endurance run, his first 50, and he askedif I was running that one. He said that he heard that they were almost full. Ilogged onto the TRT website and without even thinking signed up for the 100!Just like that my racing season was committed. It was after the credit card hadbeen charged that I started reading about the race, times were quite a bitslower than States. I read race reports where people talked in detail about theeffects of the altitude; the race starts at 7800 feet, has one “low” spot at6800, and peaks at 9200 feet. There was mention of a 2 mile, 2200 foot climb upthe front of a ski lift, and with the course being a 50 mile loop completedtwice, that climb came at miles 30 and 80! I started to wonder what I hadgotten myself into?

And now hereI sit, typing my race report a mere month after the race (and now 2 monthslater!). What happened to those days where I sat there, laptop resting on mystill sore legs, banging out 20,000 words about the race I ran the previousday? I mention this only because I’m now going to ease into the Reader’s Digestversion of my Tahoe Rim Trail 100 mile race report (TRT100) based primarily ontwo things, one, I’m beginning to forget the details, and two, I’ll never finishit if I don’t, just, well, finish it! (Another note, so much for the Reader’sDigest version, I jumped back into “full details mode” when I picked back up afew weeks later).

Race Morning

Man, I’mskipping so much good stuff that I’ll never remember when I go back and re-readthis report in a year or so, heck, even in another week or so. So let me justthrow out some random pre-race thoughts in the following paragraph, maybe I’llremember what they mean down the road, or maybe they’ll just prove further evidenceof complete senility in the not-too-distant future when I have absolutely nomemory whatsoever of what I’m about to write…

Not as muchtraining as I would have liked! I trained fairly well for April’s AR 50 miler,PR’d that race by half an hour, and that lead right into my GEMS 24 hour trackrun in May. I figured I’d take a couple of weeks off and train HARD in June,taper the first couple of weeks of July and tear up TRT. I did the resting partafter the 24 hour track run, all too well, actually. Exactly two weeks afterthe track run I headed up to the dreaded Canyons (cue ominous music!) with friends Chris Perillo, Amy Schmich andSteve Itano for good, hard 25’ish mile run complete with 2 or 3 of the canyon runsfrom Western States. I was about 4 or 5 miles into the run (which means Ibombed 2.5 miles downhill and was then heading 4 miles uphill) when my legsjust started screaming, “what in the heck are you doing? We haven’t doneanything like this! We just ran around a track, a FLAT track, for 111 miles!”So they sort of protested. I made it up to the pump and I was done. I knew Ihad another 7 plus miles back the way I came to get to the car and I was finewith just heading back and waiting for the rest of the group to finish. Butbeing the kind friends that they were, we all decided to run back to the car.Steve had run through Yosemite earlier that week and his legs were complaininga bit, too.

We headedback to the car, Chris and Amy would run on through to Foresthill and Steve andI went and got Subway in Foresthill and sat at the car and watched runnersrunning the organized Western States training run go by. Needless to say I wassore after that canyon catastrophe and before I knew it I was looking at June,and I just wasn’t feeling it!

Insert MarkStacy and Trevor Nielson. Both are good friends from church, both have beenpicking up their running over the last few months, and both were willing andinterested in pacing me over the last 50 miles of TRT. They ran with me for 13or 14 miles around the track in the middle of the night in May and, I believe,in seeing how flipping slow I was running after 70 or 80 miles, figured theycould handle pacing me just fine! Mark and I went on a couple of longer trailruns, around 20 miles or so, and then I had a last minute trip to Japan get inthe way. Where once I thought I’d be heading into TRT feeling like “THE MAN” Iwas instead heading over to Japan ready to run the streets of Tokyo for a fewmiles a day instead of the trails of Auburn for a couple of hours a day. Andthen a miracle happened!

The Saturdaythat I would be returning from Tokyo was the Saturday of Western States. No onehad asked me to pace them, so I volunteered to help out at Dr. Gade’s Mile 96aid station to get my volunteer hours in for TRT (you needed to submit 12volunteer hours to be able to run the 100 miler, I had 5 or 6 hours ofvolunteer time from AR50). I would get in from Tokyo around 1 PM on Saturday,see the family for a while and head to mile 96 around 5 or 6 PM and watch theleaders come through, put in 8 hours and be home and in bed by 2 AM). I wasexcited. Disappointed that I wasn’t running the race, or even pacing somebodyfor a bit, but I was excited to be a part of the race, and Dr. Gade’s aidstation crew. And then I got back from dinner on Thursday night in Tokyo(Wednesday in the US) to an email titled, “Western States” from incredibly fastand talented runner Eric Johnson. Eric’s first States was insane, sub 22 hours.I knew Eric, but I didn’t run with Eric, he was too fast! But in his email hesaid that his pacer was injured and he asked if I would be able to pace him theLAST 38 MILES OF THE RACE! Holy Cow!

This was a dream come true…but hold thephone! A FLOOD of negative thoughts started racing into my head. The therapistin me just sat back and thought, “wow, talk about giving me even more empathyfor some of my clients who suffer from negative thinking!” I wasn’t fastenough, I would be too tired and jet lagged, I still needed to volunteer at theaid station because the volunteer hours were due the Wednesday after States, IWASN’T FAST ENOUGH! I’d be that pacer that comes into an aid station solo, allthe aid station volunteers clapping and yelling, “runner!” until you finallyhave to say in a very low, quiet voice, “no, just a pacer, I lost my runner afew miles ago.” THAT WAS GOING TO BE ME!!!

But I alsocouldn’t pass up the opportunity to run the last 38 miles of States…and withEric! I immediately wrote him back and told him I was willing, but there wasalways a chance my flight would be delayed, and I shared with him that I’d sortof have been up for a full day by the time I would meet him in Foresthill whichcould possibly slow me down running through the night with him…and I told himhe was too fast for me. He came back right away and said no problem to all ofthe above and we set up a Skype conversation the following day. He filled me inon what he would need, where and when to meet and then I was ecstatic!

The flighthome was smooth, WAIT, this needs to go into my “Pacer Report.” Needless to sayI completed the 38 miles with Eric, he crossed the line under 21 hours and Iwas able to hang with him just fine. I made it to the mile 96 aid station by2:30 or 3 AM, completed my service and lived happily ever after! TRT was 3weeks away, that counted as a long training run, I was back on top of theworld!

So I had myrookie pacers, I was feeling good, it was time to run. Back to thebrainstorming. I ate dinner the night before the race at ultra-friend JefferyJohnston’s in-law’s house in Carson City, NV along with several other runners,all running the 50 miler. I was the only one doing the hundo. Fantastic time. Istayed in a room I got on hotwire for cheap, a straight up casino. Nothingbetter than coming into the lobby of a hotel the night before a 100 milerfeeling in the best shape of my life and second-hand smoking a few packs ofcigs. The lady at the counter was super nice, and she seemed genuinelyflabbergasted when she asked me why I was there (to run a 100 miler the nextmorning). She said that she had worked her way up to half of a spin class!

I sleptpretty well, actually, and woke up around 2:30 AM to start the morning routine.I had laid everything out the night before, and I had even pinned my number ofmy shorts before going to bed (thank you Jeffery!). I ate a bagel (chocolatechip), a Balance bar (chocolate chip), drank 32 oz of Gatorade and downed abanana on the way to the starting line.

Now, tangent time (again). I've been excited to talk about this next discovery, yet it's going to mean I have to get comfortable with a couple of words, ready...NIPPLE PROTECTORS! There, I said it! Nipple protectors, nipple protectors, nipple protectors! That feels much better. So I've made mention in the past of chafing on a long run. If you're a runner, I don't need to say any more and if you're not a runner, go watch the finish of a marathon and look for the guys with red circles where there nipples should be. Google it and you'll no doubt find some classing pictures. Well, I can't stand chafing and I had ONE experience I think I shared pre-Western States last year where my faithful, trusty bandaids let me down on a long training run. I sweat so much on that run that they wouldn't stick and I ended up running 20 miles in the trails with my shirt off, my love handles jiggling and my white flesh exposed and begging to be burned (and it was!). So I've been experimenting with the best nipple protection solution. I've gone back to various glides and roll ons and those work fine, but we're talking 100 miles, and if I don't have the right stuff in the right bag I'm dead!

So a few days before the race I was buying more gels on ZombieRunner.com. I visited their anti-chafing section and found these, the Liqui-Cell Nipple Protectors by Pro-Tec Athletics. I knew that if I ordered them on that day I'd have them a few days before the race. I did, and figured I might not use them on this race, but I'd have them to try for a future long run. They came in 2 days later and I opened up the package and they looked awesome! Like a clear bandaid that was big enough to cover the whole nipple area and there was some time of gel inside, but they were VERY flat. So I severely violated the cardinal rule of not trying anything new right before a race. I was tapering and only had one 7 mile run ahead of me before I took it down to 4 and 5 mile runs (and then nothing at all 2 days before the race). So I wore them on the run and kept them on for a full day, just walking around (to make sure they didn't irritate my skin, they say you can wear them for 72 hours). I took them off the following day and nothing, no problems. So let me just say that I put those on before the start of this race and didn't take them off until I got back home some 29 or 30 hours after the run began, and we're talking 100 miles of insane sweat and insane cold (more on all of that to come). They were awesome! Never a need to worry about NIPPLE PROTECTION again!

And out of full disclosure, I wrote them, which I never do, to tell them how great their products were and they sent me some more, along with a couple of their other products that I'm reviewing now. Let me just say that I love this company, and I love their products and if you are a male ultra runner and you don't use the Liqui-Cell Nipple Protectors you're just straight up asking for trouble! OK, back to the story...

We had to park half a mile or so fromthe start, located at Spooner Lake, and it was cold, high 30’s. I waited for ashuttle with ultra-ER-doc Mark Tanaka, and it was good to catch up with him.He’s run the course before and was filling me in on the 2200 foot climb up theski resort (it’s hard, especially the 2^nd time!). I made my way tothe start, heard some pre-race instructions from race directors David Cotterand George and started to panic. They talked about course markings, CRAP, Ihadn’t thought of that AT ALL. I get lost at races, and just hadn’t really evenspent a second thinking about following course marking for 100 miles.Thankfully this is not foreshadowing, I went off course once or twice but neverfor more than a couple of hundred yards!

The Start! ToHobart Aid Station (Mile 6) 5.5 miles to the next AS 7,000 feet at the start,1400 ft up

Before I knewit we were off! I felt the altitude immediately. The first 7 miles were uphill.My pacers and I got together a few nights before the race and put together anamazing chart that shows distance to aid stations, time I hoped to get there,and elevation up and down. It was great! (Email me if you want it futurerunner, it was really fantastic). 1400 feet up to the first aid station, Hobart(6 miles). It was darker than I thought it would be and nobody around me had alight. So I ran using only the force, faith, you name it, and thankfully nevertwisted or turned anything. I settled in behind Mark Tanaka and a couple ofother guys. Back to that altitude, I was feeling it with my breathing (shallow)and I felt my heart beating up in my neck and ears! That would be somethingthat I would feel for most of the day, but I got used to it.

I remembermaking a mental note of seeing my first snow patch at 4.4 miles. It was on adownhill stretch that I found myself (already) running alone. Mark and co. hadgotten a bit ahead of me and I had gotten ahead of the people that were behindme. There was a road that went up and to the left, and one that went down andto the right. I could have SWORN I heard people down and to the right so Iheaded that way. I didn’t see any trail markings, or people, for what seemedlike an eternity but that I was sure was only a couple of minutes. I was juststarting to panic when I popped out by a lake (Spooner Lake?) onto a fire roadand spotted a marker, what a relief!

I made my wayacross a field and into the Hobart AS (mile 6). I was feeling good, but I madesure to try and down a gel and some bananas, no messing around today, I neededto stay on top of my fuel and hydration.

Hobart toTunnel Creek (Miles 11.5 and then 17.5 thanks to the Red House Loop)

From Hobartwe truly started to hit the snow, a lot of snow, miles of snow. The snow wasstill pretty crusty and in a couple of places there were volunteers withshovels cutting steps into the side of the snow banks. They really weren’t toohard to summit, and speaking of summits, the views from on top of these hillswas amazing, and I’m one of those guys who pretends to really be impressed by asunset but who admittedly isn’t quite as moved by it as his wife! But theseviews were incredible, you could see forever. I even tried to do the self photothing but even that doesn’t do justice to the views (and makes me look soold!). On the way back, and then out later and back again the next morning Iwould say to myself a couple of times that these views were something thateverybody should see…all you have to do is hike to 8400 feet or run this race.

Running onsnow is not something that one gets used to, well, I don’t get used to. I reada couple of post-Western State race reports last year where some of the leaderssaid that they love running on snow. Truth, or just intimidation factor? Justlike my experience at Western States last year, there are daredevils who attackthe snow and there are people like me who run through the snow like you’rerunning through a minefield. I wish I could get somewhere in between. Thedaredevils were going down, hard. The snow pack was hard, it was icy, and I sawseveral people turf it. I didn’t want to see my day go south this early on justbecause I wanted to make up a few minutes on the snow, but at the pace I wasinitially running on the frozen tundra, it was going to take some time to coverthe 3-4 miles we were told we’d run through. So I tried to push it a little,and for the most part it worked…for now (there’s the foreshadowing!).

After thesnow there is a very nice, runnable 3-4 mile section slightly downhill to theTunnel Creek aid station. At this point I settled in with a group of runnersand we all admitted that we were feeling pretty good. This is where I need toget back to writing my race reports within a few days after the race! Iremembered names…briefly, but I ran into a couple of guys who were runningtheir first hundred. What a first hundred to bite off! It still cracks me up,too, when the topic of hundreds gets brought up in an ultra and somebody asksme if I’ve run one before, and after I say yes, the question goes to “whichone(s)?” It’s odd for me to even say that I’ve run “a few” assuming that threenow counts for “few?” But even funnier is when I say I’ve run Western States,it’s like you get a little more “hundred cred” and the conversation typically(and definitely at this race) goes to my experience at States. I realize nowhow lucky I was to get into States on my first try! I ran with one guy who hadtried twice in the lottery, then was injured and missed a couple of years, andhas tried twice again via the lottery to get in.

I came into TunnelCreek, 11.5 miles, feeling great. The snow was gone, for now, and I liked theidea of going through the red house loop, 6 miles, and coming back to this aidstation. I’m telling you, I like out and backs, I just like seeing people outon the course.

Red HouseLoop

After about ahalf a mile of gradual descent, the Red House Loop takes a quad-killing dip forwhat feels like a good couple of miles. I was running with this large group ofpeople still, but nature was indeed calling me. So I pull off to take care ofthings, and by the time I got back on the trail, my group was gone, as in longgone. It was unbelievable how quickly they disappeared down the trail. I endedup running the rest of the loop on my own. On the event website, and in acouple of emails, we were warned to have bug spray with us because themosquitoes would be thick on the loop. I never saw (or felt) one of the bloodsuckers, but that didn’t stop me from dropping $10 on some high-end bug lotionfrom REI. Thankfully I kept the receipt, didn’t use any, and I was able toreturn it after the race (I only mention this because my wife gave me a “yeahright” when I said I would return it…I’m not so good at returning things). Thiswas also the section of the course where we were told that we WOULD get wet, nomatter what. We were told that there were a few mini-lakes that were impossibleto go around, that we’d have to run through them. I really don’t mind gettingmy feet wet, I’ve never really had foot or blister problems before, but regardless,when I came up to a mini-lake-sized-puddle, my instincts were still to come toa dead stop and try to find the least wet way around…which there appeared to benone. I would then step gingerly through the water. I repeated this for acouple of the puddles until finally realizing it really didn’t matter at thispoint as my feet were wet, so I proceeded to simply stomp through the remainingpuddles.

Theexperience reminded me of the first time I shaved my head and hoisted mydaughter up on my shoulders…liberating. At that time I had no worries about hermessing up my joke-for-hair wait-is-that-a-comb-over-you’re-starting that Isported pre-shaved head, and here I was not worrying about my feet getting wetbecause they were already wet. What have we learned today? If you’re rocking acomb-over shave it off, and just plow through the puddles…both in a trail race,and life! And don’t do drugs! And eat your veggies! And all that other goodstuff!

There’s anaid station at the “Red House” in Red House Loop and then you hit a very nice,flat, single track trail for a mile or so before heading up a brutal climb backup to the Tunnel Creek aid station. At this point, many of the 50 mile runnerswere heading down (they started an hour later). I saw several friends who wererunning the 50, Hansel Lynn, Jamie Frink and Amy Schmich, first time 50 milerScott Suchomel, as well as a few others.

They were on the downhill, so theywere smiling! I was trudging an uphill, so I was pretending to smile! It was atthis point that I was passed by the first 50 mile runner…amazing. I was powerwalking this steep hill and here comes a guy running, not jogging, but runningup this steep hill. At first I panicked, “getting passed already by a 50miler!?” But then I tried to reassure myself that I was out there running my“all day pace” and that it was inevitable. What I secretly didn’t want tohappen, however, was to be passed by some of the people that I knew,specifically my ultra training partner and all around great guy Jeffrey Johnston!Jeffery had said the night before that he was going to catch me, so I can admitnow that several times throughout the race when I wanted to back off a bit Itold myself, “Jeffery is coming!”

Tunnel Creekto Bullwheel (Mile 20.5)

I came intoTunnel Creek and it was hopping with activity. There were those of us 100milers back there ready to head out to Bullwheel and there were a lot of 50milers and 50k runners coming in before descending down into the Red HouseLoop. I saw my friends Bill Carr and Sandra Ross, as well as Kuni and his wifeDaisey, who were there crewing 50 miler Anthony Brantley. There’s just nothingbetter than familiar faces to keep you moving (well, I guess a big dog, or abear or the promise of a million dollars if you meet a certain time…I guessthere are things that are better, but familiar faces are definitely somewherein the top 20). Quick check of myself at that point, 17 miles, 3 to the nextaid, it looked runnable on the course, it was starting to warm up. I wasfeeling good, my only complaint would be that I wasn’t digging the altitude. Ihad a pretty good headache by now and whenever I started a climb of any sort Inoticed that my heart felt like it was beating in my neck…and beating likecrazy! I had just upped my life insurance policy, so at least if my heart didburst I would a) leave my family in fairly decent shape and b) my wife would beable to say that I both died doing what I loved to do AND I died because I hadtoo big of a heart! But I sort of expected some effects of the altitude andkept on pressing forward.

The nextthree miles to Bullwheel cover a gradual ascent of about 500 feet. It’sdefinitely runnable, single track trail and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The trailwas beautiful, a lot of trees, and while the trail was single track, thereweren’t many rocks or roots so it made for just a nice three mile stretch.Another pit stop or two, that’s a good sign at this point, I was stayinghydrated.

Hydrated,yes, but I realized that I was beginningto get behind on my salts and gels. I find that I do this on a lot of runs. Ihave a plan going in, typically something like a gel every 45 mins and a saltevery hour, but then time just starts passing, I’m not looking at my watch andI get behind. It’s truly amazing how caught up in the surroundings you getduring a trail run. It’s part of what I love about trail running (and I canhear my wife now saying “If you love it, why don’t you marry it? So it’s partof what I truly like about trail running, I love my wife :-) I tried to focuson the gels and salt a little more, and not neglect my hydration. I continuedto run with one bottle of ice water and one bottle of Gu Brew. They had theblueberry pomegranate flavor that I had used throughout my training, so it wentdown fine throughout the day.

And let’s just say for those ultra runners stillwith me this far, I was putting fluids in, and giving fluids back, very wellthank you. I knew that my system was working great! OK, in fear of forgettingto include this later, my pacers, Mark Stacy and Trevor Nielsen, were fantasticat keeping me honest with my gels, both of them, almost to a fault, had megelling every 30 minutes…and by almost to a fault, I’m talking about YOUTrevor! Mark was pretty good about exactly 30 minutes, and then he’d challengeme to eat two gels instead of one. Trevor was doing the same, but once I took agel and 9 MINUTES LATER he tells me I have to take another! Busted! I thinkwhen he and Mark conferred at mile 80 while Mandy (Trevor’s wife) was helpingme change my socks (bless her!) Mark probably told him I was getting loopy, themore gels the better, so try and have me take one every 10 minutes! That wasthe only time I think I said “No!” the entire night (and last 50 miles with mypacers).

Bullwheel toDiamond Peak (Mile 30)

I was justabout to tell myself to just start skipping the details and get to the end ofthis report already! But there were a couple of significant events in this 9mile section with no aid. And I try to remember that before I ran this race, Iread EVERY race report I could find from previous years and they helped a lot.So let me write this to you future TRT 100 runners. 9 miles sounds like a longtime to go without aid from mile 21 to 30 and then again from mile 71 to 80,and let me tell you, IT IS, but it’s doable. This section worried me. Inprevious races (see Rio Del Lago 100 miler) there are sections of 6 or 7 mileswhere the race directors suggest you bring a 3^rd bottle! This haspanicked me in the past, it truly has. But I’ve gotten through those stretches(at Rio and other races) without a problem. So I tried to tell myself thiswould be the same. I was hydrating well, and so (here’s the key, future TRTracer) at Bullwheel aid station I made sure to top off the bottles, swig a coupleof cups of whatever they had and I set off for a 9mile-getting-hot-no-aid-station adventure!

WHAM!

What wasthat? It was the wall, well, the first wall I would hit this day. I rememberthe mileage well, it was at 24 miles. We were back to running on snow drifts.And by we I mean mean and my water bottles. I was running alone, had been for acouple of miles. I had plenty of fluids, the head was still pounding from thealtitude, but I really was OK. But I hit a quick stretch of pity party, a HUGEpity part, with cake and balloons and party hats. I was running all by myself,doing that “am I lost, where’s a ribbon!?” routine every few hundred yards. Iwas convinced at one point that I had gotten off the trail but I kept ontrucking. Going over the snow fields played tricks on me, too. They “postholed” some flags and on long stretches of snow you would look ahead for thenext flag. Some of the flags had fallen down. I was looking for the flags rightaround mile 24 when I hit a particularly icy patch of snow and found myselfdoing the splits. Let me state for the record, I can’t do the splits, at onetime, playing first base in high school baseball I could come close whenstretching for a ball, but that was some 24 years ago. But I did them! I felt apull to my right inner thigh, my “groinal” region as I like to call it.

I immediatelystopped running (well, I guess the split actually took care of that part) but Istarted walking favoring the groinal region. I did the typical “rub the areathat hurts” routine just in case anybody came upon me from behind, rubbing athigh or hamstring during a race is a universal “I’m not walking because I’mtired, it’s because I’m either a) injured or b) faking an injury andcontemplating dropping out of the race. And unfortunately I was all of a suddencontemplating doing letter “b” above! What the heck? Where did that come from?I had been running great all day, feeling fantastic for the most part and nownot even a quarter of the way in, when I had felt amazing just 3 miles earlier,I was honestly thinking “this could be my ticket out for the day!” Yes, mygroin hurt a bit, but not that bad. I only share these “inner ultra thoughts”because I have shared them with a couple of other runners since and bothadmitted to having similar feelings in races from time to time. I’m going toblame it on the altitude! I really don’t think I was going to drop at all, butI was bummed that my mind even went there. I power walked for a bit, and I wasback to a run moments later, and then it happened…

Tom Logan!

I sensed aguy coming up behind me. He asked me how I was doing and I was going to justgive him a “fine” and let him go, but I told myself to try and hang with himfor a minute and get myself “right.” It’s amazing what can pull one out of afunk during a race, and talking to somebody for a while has pulled me out of afunk on numerous occasions. I asked him if he minded if I drafted him for a bitand he was nice enough to say, “let’s run together.” We were on a stretch wherewe could run side-by-side and we started talking races. This was his first 100,he was a young buck, I believe 29 or so, and had some nice races leading up toTRT. He viewed me as the wise old sage (again, amazing what saying that you’verun States will do for your ultra cred!) and the miles started passing by. Ithelped that this section was all downhill. We talked jobs, I told him I was atherapist and we talked people, we just had a fantastic 6 mile stretch. I wouldoccasionally glance down at the Garmin and we were easily doing low 9 minmiles, some 8 min stuff, it was fantastic! I was back! And we came into theDiamond Peak ski resort aid station to “rock star” status. I love that part, Itruly do. There were a lot of people there, music playing and as Tom and I hitthe parking lot there were bells ringing, people clapping and cheering and Isaw A LOT of people I knew there crewing their runners. I weighed in rightaround where I needed to be, around 162, just a pound or two low for the day. Itook probably a little too long soaking up the positive energy and started offon what I had been thinking about in the back of my head most of the day. Theclimb back to Bullwheel!

The Climb(miles 30 – 32)

The climb wasjust silly it was so steep. I loved it, I can’t lie, from the simple fact thatyou get to tell the story, “at miles 30 and 80 there was a 2 mile climb up theface of a ski resort that went up 2200 feet in elevation with some places at a30% incline!” The first ¾ of a mile really wasn’t that bad. Yes, it was a climb,and it was definitely getting hot, but it wasn’t insanely steep. I actuallypulled out my cell and took a couple of pictures, called my parents, my wife, Icould slowly jog / power walk and still keep a conversation going. I passed afew people on this section and before I knew it Tom was right back with me. Hehad family back at the aid station and had spent some extra time there, but hehad easily caught me. We climbed together until we hit about the 1 mile mark ofthe climb. This is where it just got ridiculous. You could see people farahead, and way, WAY higher up on the mountain. True confession time, one of thegames I’ve played at races before, ones where you can see too far ahead of you,is if I could just have one “free pass” to exchange places with another runnerwhen would I take it? Now was one of those times. The climb was so steep thatit felt like you would fall backwards if you weren’t careful. And it went ONand ON and ON.

The start of the climb, it went on and on and on and on...

Tom wasmaking it look easy, though, he told me that he had some serious hills rightnear where he lives and so he did a lot of hill work. It showed. He tried totake me with him, and believe me, hills and climbing are definitely my strongsuit, but he was leaving me in the dust. I had to almost beg him to go ahead, asmuch as I enjoyed his company, I felt like a boat anchor and he was being kind.I think he knew that he had brought me back from the dead 7 or 8 miles earlier.So Tom eventually left me and I watched him put distance on me immediately. Ikept looking behind me and I was putting distance on anyone behind me, so thatjust shows what a climber this guy was! Tom would go on to have an incredible100 mile debut finishing ahead of me in 25 hours and some change. I hope to getthe chance to run with him again sometime.

The climbfeatured a couple of false summits. You could see far ahead, but wouldeventually not be able to see any farther up, assuming that was the top. Butthen you’d get closer to that plateau and you could see that the trail justkept going up and up and up! OK, I think, future racers, you get the point. Idon’t think you can prepare yourself for this climb, just do it! My only goalwas to never stop moving forward, regardless of what baby steps I took. I washappy to say that I kept both miles under a 20 min mile pace. And let mequickly remind the non ultra folks that THIS is why ultra people don’t talk in“what was your overall pace” type of talk. Put together back-to-back 20 minmiles and then spend even 2 minutes in an aid station trying to eat and you’renot going to be able to run a couple of 2 min miles to get your pace back to anattractive number.

I just read in an article in Running Times about roadrunners (not the type that get chased by coyotes, but the kind that run on theroads) switching to trail running. It said that many road runners are sofocused on mile times, splits, 5k, 10k, even marathon times that they can’t getused to running races like this where splits, per mile pace, etc., go out thewindow. The race becomes about pushing yourself, it becomes about the “science”of running, aka nutrition, hydration, it becomes about going to places thatyou’ve never been before, both the lows (see mile 24 above) and the highs(you’ll get to that point if you stick with me a few more pages, it’s calledSnow Valley Peak, it’s 9200 feet above sea level and it has the most incredibleviews I’ve ever seen).

Bull Wheel toTunnel Creek (miles 32 to 35)

Now I’m backon familiar ground. The 3 miles from Bullwheel back to Tunnel Creek are extremelyrunnable. I find that I never quite notice a slight uphill as much as I noticea slight downhill, meaning on the way from Tunnel Creek to Bullwheel I was ableto run it nice and easy, not thinking much about the uphill, but on the wayback to Tunnel Creek, I felt like I could fly down the trail with just a slightdecline. It was wonderful, and I was passing several 50 milers on their way outso that always keeps me motivated exchanging “nice jobs” and “looking good!”

Tunnel Creekto Hobart (miles 35 to just under 40)

From TunnelCreek to the Hobart aid station I truly don’t remember much. This would havebeen miles 35’ish to 38 or so and I was running pretty much on my own. At onepoint I caught sight of Anthony Brantley coming up from behind me. There is aseries of switchbacks and I knew that he was gaining ground on me and thateventually he would pass me. I was fine with that and looked forward totouching base with him. He eventually caught up to me and we stayed togetherfor a bit talking about different races we had done, and had on the calendar.Anthony was running the 50 as a training run for the upcoming Rio Del Lago 100miler. Just a few days before Tahoe the folks in charge of Rio put out a noticeof a course change that would make the race pretty difficult. This is 100%foreshadowing as I would go on to pace my friend Jeffery at Rio, more on thatin a separate report!

Anthony leftme and went on to finish I believe top 10 or so in the 50 miler. I headed backacross the snow, this was now the best time of the day to make it across, itwas hot and the snow was slushy. Sure, your feet would get wet, but as Imentioned previously, I haven’t really had any issues with blisters or wet feetin the past, so I embraced the slush and powered through. I caught up with acouple of runners just as we hit a section or two of downhill that justcouldn’t be run, it had to be slid down and we had a good time watching eachother slide down the trail on nature’s seat cushions! I was starting to payattention to the time of day wanting to make sure that my pacer Mark and I wereback through this section in the daylight and it looked like that wouldn’t be aproblem. That was still 15 miles or more from where I was at that moment, buttake away that pity party at mile 24 and things were really going well now.

I startedrunning into some of the 50k folks and I was passing plenty of walkers. Again,it’s an energy boost to see folks on the trail, especially when you’re catchingthem, I don’t care if they’re walking the race, just out walking the trail,just show me people I can pass from time to time!

Hobart toSnow Valley Peak (Mile 43 and 9200 feet)

From Hobartstarts another climb up to Snow Valley Peak, the highest point on the course,over 9200 feet. The climb was only 3 miles, but it covered over 1,000 feet inelevation. I ran the first mile fairly easily, and quickly and started doingthe “that means we now only have 2 miles to climb over 1,000 feet” math. I wasstarting to think that this was not a gradual 3 mile ascent, but a couple offlat miles and then another Diamond Peak! I hit mile 1.5 into this section andstill pretty much running flat, maybe a slight uphill, so that left only a mileand a half, and then, sure enough, the climb began. I climbed on a single tracktrail that had large bushes and brush / weeds on both sides of the trail. Ieventually hit a large snow field which broke up the scenery and you couldstart to see the aid station.

There were signs telling you that the aid stationwas only a mile away, the signs also had funny sayings on them to keep yougoing (by only saying that the signs were funny and not writing what they saidclearly is a product of me writing this report a couple of months after therace. During the race I swore I’d remember the signs). I made it over the snowfield and was staring my final climb toward the aid station, there was a 50krunner right in front of me. Runner etiquette is for the person walking on thetrail to step aside and let the runner actually running to pass and I made sureI was coughing and clearing my throat and running “heavy” with my feet so thatshe’d hear me and move over. I got right up behind her and didn’t see earbudsin her ears, no doubt she heard me, and I finally said “can I squeeze by you?”Which in race talk means, “Get outta my way!”

She repliedwith “If I stop I don’t know if I’ll be able to get started again so I’m notgoing to get off the trail, you’ll have to go around me.” I can’t lie, I expectthis kind of attitude in shorter races, or definitely in a bike race(cyclists!) but come on ultra woman! I decided to be the peacemaker (alwaystrying to tell my kids to be one so I better give it a try myself) and I ranout into the brush and told her to have a great run!”

The Snow Valleyaid station was fantastic! The scouts met you before the aid station to getyour bottles and run them in to fill them up. It was incredibly windy up on theridge and they had a nice, big tent set up to get you out of the wind. I filledup, thanked the scouts, and I was on my way.

Snow Valleyto Spooner Lake (miles 43 to 50)

The next 7miles were heaven. Yes, it was mile 43, but my legs felt good, I was stillhydrated (nice way of saying that I was still pee’ing) and these 7 miles wereseriously pretty much all downhill. I opened up the stride a bit and my quadswere in good shape. The 7 miles flew and I passed a few folks on the way downthe hill. With less than 2 miles to go to the finish/turnaround you make yourway onto a trail by Spooner Lake and you can see across the lake the 50 mileand 50k finish (and my turn around). There were plenty of people walking thetrails on their own and they were very nice with their support. It’s always funto have a couple of people ask, “how far you running today” when they see youwith race numbers on and replying back with “100 miles, I’m half way there!”

Coming down the trail into the half way point. Only 50 miles to go!

Theturnaround (Mile 50)

From the timeI left Snow Valley Peak I was starting to get really excited to see my crew. Iwas working with rookies. Two rookie pacers, Mark Stacy and Trevor Nielsen.Trevor’s wife Mandy would complete my crew (also a rookie). We had met togethera time or two at my house to go over race strategy. Between our three familiesthere were 12 kids, so we threw them all in the pool and had plenty of time tochat about the race. Mark would be running from mile 50 to mile 80. Mark’sprevious long run was 24 miles, but he had done some trail running with me andhe’s a natural. Trevor would take me from mile 80 to 100. I’ve known them bothfor a long time, and I never would have imagined that I’d be running with thesetwo the last 50 miles of a hundred. They had both put in some track time withme at my 24 hour GEMS run and I believe that was when the idea really startedto solidify. I had mentioned to Trevor earlier in the year that I’d like him topace me, but I wasn’t sure if it would come together. I learned as race daydrew near that he had been putting in the miles preparing for the run. I wasexcited. One could argue that the bad thing about having rookie pacers is theirlack of experience. Sure, they might not know what the source of a cramp is ormaybe they aren’t up to speed on when to increase salt tablets or back off onfluids, but their energy and enthusiasm was there by the truck full.

The last halfa mile I had a brief freak out moment. You hit a point where the 50 milefinishers take a right and run down to a finish line near the lake. The 100milers keep going straight, meet their crew, grab some aid and then head out todo the entire 50 mile loop again! As I approached that turn for the 50 milersit hit me that people were done. I was closing in on 12 hours and I knew that Ihad that plus a couple to go. I had an entire night ahead of me of running, andone little turn to the right would still give me an amazing experience of 50miles on a fantastic course. But this was my “A” race. Just a couple of hundredyards down the trail Mark, Trevor and Mandy were waiting, so I pushed forward(literally).

My Crew, Mark and Trevor (Mandy taking the picture) working on my feet!

Seeing mycrew gave me an immediate boost. And for rookies they were amazing. Mandy hadmy drop bag waiting, my change of clothes ready, gels, you name it. Mark wasliterally bouncing with enthusiasm, he was ready to go and Trevor was justgrinning. Trevor, to me, has always been a “man’s man.” He’s rugged, can killthings and build things and all of that good stuff. I feel sometimes like Ihave to check my “man card” around Trevor but over the past couple of yearswe’ve been hanging out more and he’s just a darned good guy! So I was excited thathe was there, that he was going to be a part of the run. As an outdoorsman, Ifigured he’d really like the experience of being out there on the trails, Ijust hoped that I would have some legs left at mile 80 so it wouldn’t just be a20 mile walk. But first, Mark!

Change in shirt, hat, shoes, I'm ready to go back out!

As we pulledaway from the aid station and started down the trail to start the 2^ndloop Mark was bubbling over with enthusiasm. Sadly, I wasn’t. I was back to alittle bit of the mental funk that I was just starting out on a 2^nd50 miles! Plus, the first 6 were all uphill, so I knew for the most part thatwe were about to power walk / shuffle for 6 miles before we really were able tostart running, and at that point we’d be hitting the snow fields. I had postedearlier that day to my Facebook account that I was running the race, and Markpulled out his iPhone and started reading everybody’s comments. That was a nicetouch. Admittedly I don’t post much to Facebook, but I looked at posting thatAM as just another reason why I needed to finish the race just in case I wentinto a deep funk during the run. Nothing worse that throwing something outthere and then having everybody ask how you did and having to say you dropped.So I was looking for all of the extra motivation I could get.

I have to saythat for the most part Mark and I ran alone for 30 miles, we passed a couple ofpeople, and I believe we were passed, only to pass the folks who passed us alittle bit later. So it was Mark, me and the wild. We both joked about wantingto see some wildlife, particularly a bear! We would later read from DaveyCrockett’s race report that he saw a bear on this 6 mile stretch, and in doingthe math, it was probably only about a half an hour before we came through. Sowe missed our big chance. I never got to meet Davey, I’m a big fan of his racereports and I reached out to him before the run, but missed him at runner checkin the day before. Davey was runningahead of me and then I believe he ran into a little trouble and I must havepassed him when he was at the Hobart aid station. He did go onto finish and youcan read more about his bear sighting on his blog.

There is astretch in this 6 mile section that heads downhill and I was happy to see thatwe could get the miles back in the sub 10 min/mile range for a bit, it feltgood on my legs, my quads were in good shape. Overall I was really holding upwell. Mark did an amazing job of keeping me on top of my salt, gels and fluidsand this is where we got into a routine of gels every half an hour no matterwhat, and Mark would keep asking me (reminding me) to drink. The milesseriously flew by. We made it through Hobart and headed to the snow fields.

Hobart toTunnel Creek

Thankfully Ihad stayed relatively on track the last 15 or 20 miles and we hit the snowfields in the daylight hours. I think Mark was a little surprised by how slowwe had to go on some of these stretches, welcome to ultras! We could moverelatively fast for short amounts of time, but then we would hit a slightuphill or downhill patch and while the snow wasn’t horrible, it wascrunchy/crusty and keeping your footing could be difficult. We came across acouple of race volunteers who were carving steps into the snow in places and wethanked them profusely because some of the drifts would have been impossible toclimb, or worse yet, slide down. Little did I know that what they were doingwould be a life saver coming back through this section at 4 or so in themorning.

We made itthrough the snow fields unscathed and started down the single track switchbacksinto Tunnel Creek. I was back to running at this point (thanks mainly to thedownhill) and as we hit the Red House Loop again I was in a really good place.Mark ate up the steep downhills, he would leave me in the dust for a bit whileI was starting to feel my quads and I’d gingerly run the steeper sections. Iwarned Mark that there was no getting around some of the puddles but he wasbeyond determined to keep his feet dry. I didn’t blame him, it took me a coupleof races before I really knew that my feet would respond OK to a lot of mileswhile wet. Some people aren’t so fortunate and wet feet equal major blisters(Major Blisters, I believe I had a cousin who served under him in the war!Darned good man).

But to Mark’scredit, he did it, and it was much to my amusement. I swear a couple of timesI’d go splashing through and I’d look back literally to find Mark swinging froma branch, or running off into some brush just to keep his feet dry. I told himthat we were lucky there wasn’t any poison oak (future runners, apparentlypoison oak can’t grow at that elevation! As somebody who gets it bad, it waswonderful not to worry about it at all). Mark stayed dry, I got wet and dayturned to night. As we hit the actual Red House, I chatted with the aid stationcaptain, I don’t know his name, but he’s from back in the South, he’s older,and he’s an incredible runner! I swear I’ve seen him either running, orvolunteering at every race I’ve ever been a part of. He hiked out of the aidstation telling us tales of runners who blew up on the 2^nd half ofthis race in years past. I felt like I was far from blowing up, and we slowlymade our way back up that really steep section coming back to Tunnel Creek.Which reminds me, when we were heading down Tunnel Creek, we crossed thewomen’s leader and her pacer coming out of the loop. Yes, that meant they had 7miles on me! I was definitely getting “chicked” this race.

The onlynegative thing that was starting to happen was that at each aid station we’dtry and get me to eat a little more, some soup, bananas, chips, I was at thepoint where I didn’t WANT to but I knew I needed to and my stomach wasn’tfighting me, I just didn’t want anything. Each time I would eat, I would getlightheaded as we headed out of the aid station. We worked with that, though,and just power walked for a bit after I would eat. Heading out of Tunnel Creektoward Bullwheel was the first time where I really worried if I had broughtadequate clothes for the night. I grabbed a lightweight jacket and a stockingcap from a drop bag but as we hiked out of the aid station my legs were cold!

To Bullwheel!(Miles 68 to 71)

Once mylightheadedness subsided, we were able to start a slow run again. One westarted running, I was instantly hot, to the point where I was sweatingprofusely! I would play a game for the next hour or so of taking my stockingcap off and getting cold, putting it on and getting too hot. I’ll take thatover just flat out being cold.

About halfway to Bullwheel we saw our first runners on their way BACK to the finish. Wewere at mile 70’ish, and that meant that these guys were around 84 or 85!Incredible. We saw the first 3 or 4 runners by the time we hit Bullwheel andthey were all fairly well spread out. Bullwheel was pretty dead; the guysrunning it were huddled together protecting themselves from the wind. I knewthat we were about to go 9 miles in the dark, over some snow with no aid. Iwasn’t as worried about it as I thought, but we still tried to eat whateverthey had at the aid station, Mark forced two gels down me and after an initialpowerwalk to get past the dizzies, we started on Mark’s final 9 miles. I hadjust a little over a marathon to go, which is just bizarre to look at in a racelike that and think, “I’ve got this!” But I truly did start to feel like I hadthis race in the bag.

Even with apacer I find myself playing mental mileage games. I was approaching 25 milesfrom being done. I typically think when I get to that point that it’s “onlylike running from my house to Sacramento!” That’s doable. And then as the milesget less I pick different areas of the Sacramento valley until I finally havemyself running just a few miles around my little town of Lincoln (at the startof a 100 I admittedly think, “this is just like running to San Francisco!”).

Diamond Peak,Mile 80!

Mark and Istayed in good spirits through this section. We hadn’t seen anyone in a longtime, and it felt like all of a sudden a couple of runners were right on ourtails. Mark didn’t want us to get passed. I was well, well beyond caring aboutthat at this point. He tried to get me to rally, and at first I resisted,almost like when a kid doesn’t want to do something that his or her parentswant them to just because it wasn’t their idea, even though they know it wouldbe a good thing to do. They passed and we stayed right on their heels. At onepoint they got a fair distance ahead of us, but we could still see theirlights. Mark was asking me to give him a little more, and I slowly started to.

We eventuallyeased past these guys and started on the 4 mile downhill to Diamond Peak. I washappy that Mark kept me on those guys because once we passed them I reallydidn’t want to get passed back, so I think it gave me a little extra energy forthe push to Diamond Peak. Mark was having more fun than me as he would take offand run far down the trail ahead of me. He was having fun; I didn’t have theheart to remind him that with nearly 80 miles on my legs, I kind of needed hima little closer to me to let me know if there were any rocks or anything majoron the trail. I settled into my own happy place and knew that we were gettingcloser and closer to the lodge, the pacer exchange and what I still had toworry about, THE CLIMB!

Mark and Ifound ourselves out on the pavement before long and I knew we were probably aquarter of a mile from the lodge. Nighttime at the lodge wasn’t nearly what ithad been earlier in the day. No music, no bells or whistles, just aid stationfolks that now had to stand up since a runner was arriving. They looked coldand I almost felt bad that they had to move! My crew was there, Mandy andTrevor, and a couple of folks from the ultra world, Erik Skaden and a friend ofmine who I can’t for the life of me picture in my mind! There again is anotherreason to write these sooner. They all had some really nice things to say,telling me I looked great, all that stuff you’re supposed to tell a runnerafter 80 miles even if it’s not true. On that note, a quick glance to insidethe lodge and I could see a couple of runners who were just dead, one trying towalk and get himself back into race mode and a woman who was laying downcovered in blankets. I don’t know who they were or if they were able to finish,but I was grateful that I wasn’t having one of those kind of days.

This is whereMandy earned her full “crew stripes” at this aid station. I wasn’t even reallythinking, I was just sitting in a chair as Mark and Trevor were talkingstrategy, Mark doing the official “pacer handoff” and I look down and Mandy waschanging my socks! That’s what I’m talking about! She didn’t even seem toflinch, but then again, as a mother of 4, I guess seen (and smelled) far worsethan dirty feet in her day. And to be fair we had changed socks back at mile50, so these only had 30 miles on them.

I thankedMark and Mandy, and Trevor and I were off! I built the climb up to Trevor likeit was going to blow his mind but he was still all grins ear to ear. Myfavorite thing about Trevor, he calls whatever drink you’re drinking “juice.”He kept asking me if I was drinking my juice and I was thinking that he thoughtI drank apple juice or something at the aid station? For the rest of the nighthe remind me to drink my juice, and I’d just smile and go with it!

We hiked thefirst mile and I kept telling him, “just wait, man, just wait!” As we hit thesteep section I kept looking at him, here’s my rookie pacer, it’s 2 AM or so,he’s had no sleep, and his welcome to an ultra is this kind of hill…and helooked like he was just out for a walk! I’m barely moving at points and he’sright beside me just looking like it’s nothing! Flash back to earlier in theday, there were quite a few hikers coming down the climb while I was going up.I can’t lie, there were some shapes and sizes of people that made me justwonder, “how did they make it up in the first place?” It wasn’t until I talkedto Trevor a week or so later when he told me that while the climb was steep, hewas taking it with fresh legs. Even my first go around I had 30 miles on me,and at night 80!

We madedecent time up the hill, not too far off from earlier in the day. We hitBullwheel and it was even more of a ghost town. We were now pushing 3 AM. I hadthe opportunity to work the mile 96 aid station at Western States this year,granted, after flying from Japan earlier that day and running 38 miles withEric Johnson, but I just remember those early morning hours being incrediblytiring. I think Trevor was curious what “running” would now look like since wewere done with the 2 mile climb. I was wearing another Garmin (the first oneonly made it about 12 or 13 hours, nothing better than outrunning your watchbattery!) and I glanced down as we made our way on the slight downhill towardTunnel Creek to see that we were in the double digits with our per mile pace.This stretch flew by as Trevor and I were talking quite a bit about the day,both his and mine. Again, I can’t tell you how great Mark and Trevor were forbeing not just new to pacing, but new to trail running. It truly is more of anadventure than a race. Trevor wanted to see “critters” and we were constantlykeeping our eyes open fo r eyes looking back at us from off the trail.

We started toreally notice that anytime I ate a gel I would get a little lightheaded for aminute or two, again, our guess was that whether it was just my system beingraw, the altitiude, a combination, all the blood in my body was making a maddash to the stomach to help digest whatever I was dumping into it in an effortto get more energy to keep those legs going.

It wassometime on this trip down to Tunnel Creek that we passed the group runningright at the cut off time. They were just on their way out to Bullwheel, theloop, the ski resort, I was ahead of them by about 15+ miles and as I said my“nice jobs’ and “keep it going” I wasn’t getting much in the way of a response.My first 100 miler, Rio Del Lago, was somewhat of an out and back, too, and atthat race you also saw a group running along the cutoff, but that time theywere singing and having a great time. That group at Rio was led by the everjovial Rajeev Patel. Rajeev told me later that they all stuck together andfinished together having a wonderful last 20 miles. This group needed a Rajeev!I would learn later than a few of the runners would drop at the lodge due tothe cold.

Trevor catching me running on the way back to Tunnel Creek, it's in the 40's and around 3 - 4 AM.

Tunnel Creek(Mile 80 something!)

This timethrough Tunnel Creek I was looking to keep calories going. During my WesternStates experience the year before I had been running absolutely fine and then Igot really lightheaded around mile 88. I spent almost a mile in a panicthinking that the day had gone incredibly well, and that it could go south inthe span of just a few miles. I was a little bit worried about that now. Wetook in some soup, I forced down a banana and ate a gel, so I remember leavingTunnel Creek toward Hobart feeling full, and I was hit with a pretty big doseof lightheadedness. Trevor and I slowed it to a power walk and kept it therefor a bit as the trail started a gradual incline.

We eventuallymade our way to the snow drifts and this time there was no getting around it,they were now ice fields. We were sliding everywhere and Trevor moved up aheadof me at times and let me slide into him. At one point he slid down a smallhill and I came sliding down after him giving him a pretty good push. Hesteadied himself and in my mind he was standing next to a 50 foot drop, but Ithink it was more like a foot or two off of the ice onto the dirt. At one pointwe took a look up toward the sky and the amount of stars, at 4 AM at close to9,000 feet was incredible, truly incredible. We made our way across the finalice patch and ran down the downhill into the Hobart Aid Station.

On the climb up to Snow Valley Peak under a near full moon.

Hobart toSnow Valley Peak (Miles 90 – 93)

We had hitmile 90! While I knew we were finishing many miles ago, I love getting to mile90, that’s when the distance truly sounds long to me. At Hobart I was feelinggreat and we spent probably a little too much time there as I was trying todown some Ensure and anything else that would agree with me. At Hobart somebodytold me that I was in 16^th place overall. That turned out not to betrue, but it sure sounded great. I was probably in 19^th as I wouldget passed once at the end to claim 20^th overall at the finish(spoiler alert!).

On the hikeout to Snow Valley Peak daylight was starting to break. I just shared this withanother ultra runner who watched the 2^nd sunrise at the Wasatch 100that while I would truly like to finish races under 24 hours, there is truly nothinglike the energy that one feels when that sun comes up on your 2^ndday of running.

Making our way across the snow fields.

At this pointI have to confess that I was more tired than I’ve ever been on a run of anysort. I’ve run other 100’s, 100k’s, dozens of 50k’s and marathons. I’ve done afew night runs where we start at 9 or 10 PM and run until 2 or 3 AM, and I’vecompeted in a couple of 12 hour night run races and I have been amazed at howI’ve never really felt, for the most part, like I wanted to curl up and fallasleep during a run. I had one brief moment during my first 100, somewhere inthe late 80 mile or early 90 mile range, where my pacer, Theo Wirth, took abrief pit stop off the trail and I thought for one, tiny second that it wouldjust feel really good to lay down on the trail for just a moment, and he wasout of the bushes and, I think, wise to my thoughts and he kept me going.

Just beforeTrevor and I began our final hike up to the aid station, we were running onsome switchbacks in a more dense part of the forest and I told him simply thatI was “thinking something weird.” He asked me what, and I believe I told himthat I wasn’t sure. The only problem is that I was sure, but it just made nosense to me at the time. I told him later what it was. I was thinking “innumbers.” That’s what I told him, and I still don’t quite know how to explainmy thought process. It wasn’t that I was like Rainman, and I had some moment ofclarity where I could break down my overall time, divide it by miles traveledand come up with a pace. No, I was thinking, “3, 7, 415.” Just flat out randomnumbers! In hindsight I think that I spend most of my day in numbers, how manymiles have I been, how many to go, how many until the next aid station, whattime of day is it, how much time do I have left to go? So my mind was ultratired and I was getting ultra nutty. I really did feel like I could stop andsleep at any moment, but especially at that point. For future pacers, if youask me if I’m thinking in numbers, I believe that’ll be the code phrase for“are you out-of-your-mind tired?”

Snow ValleyPeak (Mile 93! 9200 feet above sea level)

This timearound the scouts had lost a bit of their pep. They were wonderful, but theydidn’t quite bound out of their tent to come and grab my bottles like they hadhalf a day earlier. It was cold on top of the mountain. The views werespectacular and I felt like the roles had changed 180 degrees from my firsttrip through the aid station. Trevor and I were the ones telling the scoutsthat THEY were awesome! We were saying that we don’t know how they were doingit! They were great. Trevor and I snapped a photo at the aid station. Borroweda phone and texted Mandy, and my wife Wendy, who would now be waiting for us tocome into the finish.

Trevor and me at the Snow Valley Peak Aid Station

I knew thatthe next 7 miles were extremely runnable. I was excited. I could “smell thebarn.” Trevor was about to cross into his longest run territory but I think hewas feeling just fine thanks to my rather pedestrian pace over the last 13miles. We started on our decent and all I remember about the next 7 miles werethat we were eagerly looking for bears. At this point it was just after 5 AM,it was a crisp, clear morning and we were running through the woods, it justfelt like bear weather. I didn’t think until after the race that I wasn’treally suited for coming upon a bear. Normally the joke is that as long asyou’re running with somebody slower than you you’re safe from bears. All youhave to do is outrun the person you’re running with, but with 93 miles on mylegs I knew Trevor could take me. So probably a bad move, but I shared my bearstrategy with Trevor. I told him that, no offense, if I saw a bear, I was goingto try a surprise attack…on Trevor, knock him down and start running. I figuredthat would give me a head start. For some reason I felt like since I told himabout my plan it would be OK!

As Imentioned earlier, Trevor is the ultimate outdoorsman. I’m guessing he couldspend weeks out in the wild eating bugs and bushes and catching fish with hishands. But at one point I asked him, “OK, Trevor, tell me again, if a bearattacks, do you make a bunch of noise, or do you play dead” We ran a bit moredown the trail when he finally said, “I don’t know!?”

Thank youBear Grylls!

As for therunning, I remember three things. First, my legs were shot, but in a gloriouslyfantastic I’ve-run-93-plus-miles-way. My quads were starting to give out, butwe kept running the downs. The flats were a shuffle and I don’t care if therewas a half a degree incline it felt like a mountain and I was brought to apower walk. I was also making grunting noises whenever I hit these half adegree inclines in an effort to give me a little steam to make it up thesehills. Second, I did the old “Man I’m moving, let’s take a peek at the watchand see how fast” trick. I felt like I was seriously throwing down some 9minute miles, until I would glance down and see the pace somewhere between 11and 12 minute miles. I believe in looking back over the data on the Garminlater that we did put a couple of high 10 minute miles in during this stretch,and I’ll take them, but I felt like I was flying, and I wasn’t. Finally, I gotpassed with about 2 miles to go. I was surprised that this really didn’t takethe wind out of my sails. I felt great about my entire day, about running withMark and Trevor, about Mandy being a fantastic rookie crew chief and I couldn’twait to see my wife an d kids in just a couple of miles. So they passed, weexchanged some nice words, atta boys, and I let them move on past me.

Trevor and me coming into the finish.

Trevor and Imade the final turn toward the finish, less than 2 miles to go and I felt likeI was truly floating that last mile. We were back on the final fire road andthere was that beautiful sign pointing to the finish, dropping down to theright off of the trail. As we left the fire road and got onto the trail we hita meadow, the sun was shining and it felt wonderful. My youngest two, Jake andSydney were yelling my name and Jake sprinted out to meet me. Trevor, Jake andI ran toward the finish. Wendy snapped pictures, I gave Syd a high five. Mandywas there cheering us on. I love finishing races, I’m absolutely addicted tothe finish line. From the first marathon, to this 100 miler, all of thetraining and preparation that goes into a race just hits you all at once as youcross that line.

Finished! Finally, I get to sit down...and the eyes immediately start to close.

I crossed andwas immediately able to sit down inside the finisher’s tent. It felt wonderful.26 hours and 39 minutes, good for 20^th overall. Huge thanks go tothe race directors George and David for a fantastic race. The volunteerswere plenty, and wonderful. The course was the most breathtaking (ha! Both froma view standpoint and from the altitude standpoint) I had ever run. I’lldefinitely keep this one on the list of races that I highly recommend.

And a HUGEthanks go to my rookie crew and pacers. Mandy and Trevor, your enthusiasm madethe day. Trevor, it’s time to start upping the miles, you were born for thetrail running. And Mark, you are indeed a natural, I would imagine it won’t belong before I get to return the favor and pace you through one of these badboys. And, as always, a huge amount of gratitude to my wife. She gets soexcited about these races and for a couple of days leading up to a race, andfor a few days afterward I feel like she thinks I’m pretty cool!

Epilogue

Recovery fromthis race wasn’t too bad. On the ride home I immediately fell asleep in thecar. I made it to church and tried my best to keep my eyes open during thefirst hour (with some success). I went home after the first hour and immediatelyfell asleep for a few hours more, and slept just fine through the night. Iofficially retired from running upon crossing the finish line, and by the nextday I had decided that after running the St. George Marathon in October, Iwould again sign up for the Quad Dipsea ultra in November.

Sprinting the Lincoln Zebra's Labor Day 5k

2011-09-11T12:54:00.000-07:00

Overbay family with cousin Taylor post-race smiles!

Last Monday I had the pleasure of joining a hundred or solocal Lincoln runners at the annual Lincoln Labor Day 5k. This trail 5k is puton by Doug and Vicki Croall each year to help raise money for the Lincoln Zebracross country team. This is the 3^rd or 4^th (or actuallycould be the 5^th) time that I’ve run the event. As I’m now just acouple of months from turning 42 I have no problem claiming memory loss. I wearit with a badge of honor! I do remember that last year we had other plans, butthe year before I ran with my kids, and we had a great time. A couple of mykids placed in their age group and while I’m partial to the trails, I rememberthem telling me that they didn’t like getting dirty while they ran!

Well, a couple of years, and several races later, dirtwasn’t a concern and they were all interested in running so we signed up theentire family for the race. This race would come with some pressure for me,though, as for the first time I was told to “go for it” by my kids. I’ve runseveral 5k’s over the past few years, but they’ve all been done with my kids,more specifically I’ve always been pacing a kid or two. Typically I run with myolder two daughters, I bring them through the finish and then I head back outand find my wife, typically pacing the younger two, and I help run them in. Butthis time my oldest, who has been putting in some serious miles over the pastfew weeks (running more than 5 miles a day some days!) was content to run onher own, and my next daughter down had her first middle school cross countrymeet the following day so she was determined to “take it easy” and save herlegs for Tuesday. She planned on running with one of her younger brothers orsisters. My wife was happy to help the younger two as well, so all of a suddenit was time for me to put up or be quiet! (Shut up is still a bad word at myhouse so it didn’t sound right to type that!).

Admittedly when we’ve run other 5k’s I’ve wondered how I’ddo against the faster folks in the front, but I love running with the kids, soI always give a healthy dose of “I could have been a contender!” after seeingthe finishing times at some of the events we’ve run together and leave it atthat. There are a couple of websites that track local 5k and 10k races, andfrom time to time I’ve had somebody share with me that they’ve looked me up onthose sites and I feel like I quickly have to explain, “I ran those with mykids!” as my times aren’t anything to write home about for somebody who claimsto run as much as I do.

I’ve also been doing a fair amount of speed work since mylast race, the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 miler (yes, still working on a race report,aka a small novel on that race, it was incredible!) in anticipation for the St.George Marathon coming up in early October. I haven’t really gone fast in along time and getting the legs used to speed over distance has been a bit of achore (refer to earlier comment about soon turning 42). Something about beingable to stop at an aid station, even if for just a minute, and eating browniebites that seems much more fun than going full out at top speed for 3 straighthours!

But I reached out to ultra-speedster Scott Dunlap, a guy whocan claim both a sub-24 hour hundred and a sub-3 hour marathon to his runningresume, and he gave me a few speed tips. I’ve been doing the “Yasso 800’s” onthe treadmill at the gym. Look em up, but in a nutshell, take your 800 time andthat translates to your marathon time, assuming you can pull off 8-10 of themwithout much rest in between. So a 3:00 minute 800 (half mile) should equate toa 3:00 hour marathon, simple, right? Well, doing them on the treadmill has beenpart of the fun. That equates to a 6 min mile, which is a 10.0 on thetreadmill. I’ve been doing a 2-3 mile warmup, then spending 3 minutes at a10.0, trying to hit the number 6 twice on the treadmill at exactly 3 minutes tobring the pace down to 6.6 mph, or somewhere around a 9:30’ish mile for 2minutes of recovery and then repeat! The first time I tried, the first 2 or 3really weren’t bad, and I thought I was the man! But then at 5 I was done! Thelast few weeks have seen me get up to 6, 6 again (was supposed to be 8) and 7(was supposed to be 10). They’re brutal!

He also suggested that the last 3 miles of my weekly longrun I do at marathon pace, which works out to around 6:46 min miles I believe.So the first Saturday I tried this, I had done speedwork on Thursday. I did anelliptical machine workout on Friday morning, and then I got a call to playbasketball Friday night with some young men from our church. I can’t pass thatup! That’s my chance to show the younger generation that old people (played byme) can still play some ball, or more specifically just run my guy around thecourt until he’s too tired to guard me! So I did, and we played from 9 – 11 PM.I got up that Saturday and my legs were DEAD! I was scheduled to do 18 miles.The first 8 – 10 were horrible! I found a groove at 11 and then before I knewit I was staring at mile 15, when I was supposed to go fast. I was about togive myself an excuse to stay slow, but then I tried to just see if I could getthe turnover going on the legs. So I did, and mile 16 flew by in a surprising6:26! Mile 17 in a 6:42 and mile 18 right at 6:50! I was a mess on Sunday, butfelt good about the week. The last few weeks have been similar, and so afterrunning 17 on Saturday (with the last 3 sub 7 min miles) I found myself toe’ingthe line of the 5k wanting to use the excuse of having tired legs, but alsowanting to show these young whippersnappers (and my kids) that this old guycould do more than just yell “get off my lawn!” and look for the nextopportunity to take a nap.

I gave a quick round of fist bumps with my wife and kids andI moved up to the front of the pack. We were staring at a quick downill gradeand then an immediate up. Before I knew it the countdown was on, a horn wentoff and I took off. I haven’t done this is SO long, it was a rush of emotions.I quickly found myself in second place behind someone who definitely lookedlike a high school cross country runner. Young, skinny as a rail, and he wasmoving. I hit the first hill hard, my chest was already burning as I sprintedto the top. I crested the hill and watched as the first place runner took off.I glanced down at my watch and I was running at a 5:45 pace! Way too fast, andhe was going even faster. I backed myself down to a slightly more comfortable,yet still super fast for me 6 min/mile pace. I refused to look behind me as Ithought that I could feel dozens of runners breathing down my neck.

The trail was fantastic, and as I hit the half mile mark onmy watch there was a gradual ascent. It felt like a mountain at that speed andI swore I dropped to a 10 min/mile pace. I glanced down at my watch and I wasstill in the low 6’s. I found some flat ground and moved through the aidstation without stopping. My friend, and former Lincoln High cross countrychamp Heather Felt, was there with her version of encouragement (c’mon, can’tyou catch him!?). I couldn’t. I was still in second, but I swore I could hearsomebody close.

Sure enough we hit another small uphill and somebody startedto pass me on the right. I said “great job” as best I could and he moved on byme. It’s a lot harder to talk when you’re sprinting! I was now in 3^rd,still afraid to look behind me. We came up a hill and started the second loopof the course (duplicating the first loop). I hit the two mile mark and shortlyafter noticed the guy ahead of me taking a look back on a sharp turn. I toldmyself that I would do the same when I made the turn. We were now passingpeople who had been running slow, or walking, as they were still on their firstloop. I made the turn and looked behind me prepared to see a pack closing in,but there wasn’t anybody behind me! Just the walkers that I had passed a fewmoments ago. I was running all by myself in 3^rd, with 2^ndputting some distance on me, and 1^st completely out of site.

I had mixed emotions. 3^rd overall sounded greatto me. I thought the guy who passed me for second could possibly be in my agegroup, so there would go the age group win, but I figured if I just held a quickpace there wasn’t enough race for somebody to catch me. So admittedly I turneddown the speed a notch and started encouraging those first loop runners that Ipassed. The beauty of a 5k vs a 100 miler is that I glanced down at my watchand I was already at 2.75 miles, just a hair over a quarter mile to go. Iturned a corner and recognized a straightaway that led to the finish. A quickglance behind me confirmed I was safe in 3^rd place and I ran in at19:22. Turns out the guy who passed me was in his 30’s, so my final take was 3^rdoverall and first in the old guy category of 40 and up. I felt fantastic andimmediately grabbed my Flip HD cam and cheered friends and filmed my family aseach one of them crossed the finish line. 11-year old Mackie took 3^rdin the 13 and under category, good for a medal, with Alexa finishing 5^th(she’s 13) and 9-year-old Sydney taking 6^th. All of them coming inunder 30 minutes. 7-year-old Jake struggled a bit with the hills but still finishedin just over 35 minutes with a spirited sprint to the end to edge out my wife(who ran with him the entire race).

Friends Kirsten Petty, Rachel Ludlow and Aubry Tenney tookfirst, second and third in the women’s category. We stuck around for a rafflethat had a ton of prizes! With 6 tickets in the pot all we managed to get was a$20 gift card to Sonic, which I’m incredibly happy with (they have tatertots!). Overall it was a fantastic day, and a huge thanks goes out to theCroall’s and the rest of the Lincoln High Cross Country team. Go Zebras!

Syd and Jake waiting for their tickets to get pulled from the raffle, they were hoping for the Sky Zone passes!

In true “ultra” fashion I had planned on running the 8 mileshome after the race. I grabbed my iPod, my water bottle and I headed towardhome. Let’s go back to that speed work comment from the Saturday before, add inthere a 3 mile sprint through the hills and trails of 12 Bridges and about halfway home my legs were jelly! As I neared the 2 mile mark to my house I glancedup and saw my wife running toward me getting in a few extra miles herself! Shesignaled toward me and she turned and started running toward home. This was myqueue to sprint and try and catch her. This was an old speed workout I didalmost a decade ago with my friend Mark Stacy when I was training to qualifyfor the Boston Marathon. Only my wife didn’t know about my jelly legs. My pridekicked in, however, and I was able to quickly catch her, beg her to slow downand we had a great run the rest of the way home.

Mackie and me showing off our hardware!

Newsmessenger - Running Relay for Life and for GEMS Inspires Runner

2011-06-01T19:08:00.000-07:00

Recently, I took to the track to run a few laps. I was surrounded by very enthusiastic, supportive people that made the run truly an experience of a lifetime.

Now, you may be assuming that I’m talking about my 446-lap trek around the Glen Edwards Middle School (GEMS) track, my attempt to try and raise money to save the sports program at the school a couple of weeks ago. When I first sat down to write this column, that was exactly what I was planning on writing about.

But just two Saturdays ago, a mere week after my GEMS experience, and trust me, it was an amazing experience, I spent time at the Lincoln High track and participated in my first ever Relay for Life.

I can’t lie; part of my motivation for participating in Relay for Life was to be able to say to myself that just a week after running 111 miles (and two laps to be exact), I could get back on the track and do it again, well, not another 446 laps, but at least another 30 or 40.

I also wanted to run around a non-dirt track as for several days after the GEMS run I found myself “giving back” some of the track that I had inhaled via sneezes into Kleenex after Kleenex.

So two Saturday mornings ago, I found a team, the Cancer Kickers, that would take me last minute, and by 4 p.m. Saturday, I was back in the pattern of running circles.

From the first step, my legs both praised the rubbery track surface and cursed the rest of my body for once again doing my best NASCAR impression.

But what my body truly didn’t expect were the emotions that would quickly take over for the next hour while I ran. Gone was the pressure to down yet another banana or drink another gallon of sports drink to keep the body going. All thoughts about body were replaced by thoughts of gratitude and sacrifice going on that day around the Lincoln track.

Volunteers were placing the luminaria around the track for a special 8 to 10 p.m. walk, and each one had a message of love, or support, for those who were surviving cancer, or who had passed, due to this horrible disease.

There were pictures, names, drawings, sayings written on the bags. I discovered more than sweat running down my cheeks as I truly felt the emotional impact of the event.

I started to look around me, and while I was one of the only ones running the track, it was filled with people of all ages, shapes and sizes walking, wearing shirts that celebrated the life, or lives, of those who they were there in support of.

There were people wearing shirts that said, “I beat cancer!” or “I’m celebrating another birthday!”

I felt somewhat inadequate as I ran, feeling like these people were running with a purpose that was much greater than my desire to see how the legs felt a week after my event.

And then I reflected on just a week earlier, as I ran around the GEMS track, especially during the school day. Kids ran laps with me, miles with me, who had never run before.

Several GEMS students stayed with me for multiple class periods, pushing themselves harder than they have ever pushed, even coming back to run with me later that evening.

Parents and teachers came up to me in the days after the run and told me amazing stories about students and family who were inspired to do more, thanks to the run.

And here were people on the Lincoln High track doing the same, walking for hours and hours and hours for a cause much larger than just their own.

In the span of seven days, on two tracks just a couple of miles away, I witnessed people doing amazing things, both young and old.

The younger ones trying their best to save their sports program, to do something collectively that would benefit them all.

And then to be a part of what was going on at Lincoln High, again, watching individuals gather together for a cause, to support those fighting cancer now, to honor those who succumbed to the fight, and to hopefully raise awareness and funds to someday find a cure.

I was asked a lot of questions leading up to my 24-hour run, such as where will I go to the bathroom, what will I eat and why? Possibly more than any question I was asked was why run 24 hours?

Partially it was because it was something that I could do to make a difference. Ask me to help build a stage for a school play and you’ll get a Charlie Brown Christmas-tree like structure. But when I heard that my kid’s school was in danger of losing sports, well, Run Forest Run!

But I felt like, despite the dozens and dozens of races, and thousands and thousands of miles that went into training my body (and mind, note to self, let’s get a little scenery on the track before next year’s run, possibly a hill, maybe some trees, a stream and maybe a deer), I learned a little bit more of why I run.

In the span of seven days, I was truly a changed man. Thanks to spending some time, OK, a lot of time running around a track or two, I was able to see first-hand what groups of youth and adults in a community can do when they join together.

And for that, I’ll run 446 laps around a track anytime!

Tony Overbay is a Lincoln resident and father of four. You can read more about his run at www.tonyoverbay.com, and donations for the GEMS sports program are still being taken at www.supportgemssports.com.

Tony Overbay, GEMS, Relay for Life

From the Newsmessenger - 24 hours, 111 miles, great cause

2011-05-25T14:17:00.000-07:00

Tony's note - This article ran in the 5/18/2011 Lincoln Newsmessenger. I was grateful for the continued coverage as donations continue to roll in. We're approaching $7k in donations! That's almost enough to fund all of the GEMS sports programs for an entire year! If you still feel the need to donate, please stop by www.supportgemssports.com. Thanks again for all of those who came out and ran, walked, supported me and donated. A longer "race report" will still follow in the coming days. Note #2, some of the facts below aren't exactly right on, but kudos to Cecil who wrote the piece, he did the interview over the phone. Example, I've run 70 marathons and ultra marathons, not 70 races over 50 miles...although his version sounds much more impressive!

Bake sales and car washes are nothing compared with Tony Overbay’s fundraising idea. In offering to lend Glen Edwards Middle School’s sports teams a hand, he was on his feet for 24 hours.

And like Forrest Gump, Overbay was running. He might have felt like Gump by the time he finished. Running 50 or more miles is nothing new for Overbay. Going that far in a circle was a new trick.

Glen Edwards does not have an all-weather track. Overbay inhaled dust from dawn to dusk and then some.

“I don’t think I thought that through,” Overbay said Sunday as he was recovering from his one-man ultra marathon. “It was a lot more mental than I expected. I usually go from point A to point B.”

Overbay started at 8 a.m. Friday and crossed the finish line Saturday morning after going 111½ miles. He had never gone that far previously. His head may still be spinning from all those laps.

He completed 446, including the 4.2-mile run the school was in process of planning when Overbay offered to go 24 hours.

The point of Overbay’s run was to raise money for the Save Our Sports campaign at Glen Edwards. His daughter, Alexa, is a seventh-grader at the school and competes with the cross country team.

Alexa’s sister, McKinley, will arrive in the fall as a sixth-grader. Overbay wants McKinley to have the same opportunities as Alexa and is doing what he can to keep the school’s sports programs afloat.

And what he can do is run. Overbay has survived more than 70 runs of at least 50 miles. His fundraising jaunt nearly came to an early end, however, when he ran into a serious dose of dehydration.

The medical consensus was to stop the run. Overbay had lost six pounds. His body was breaking down.

“I got four solid medical opinions and they all said to stop,” he said. “I had a real rough patch there.”

Overbay could not bear the thought of telling the students that he could not finish what he had started. Many of them had run alongside Overbay during physical education classes on Friday.

Several returned after school to take more laps. Four students each ran 10 or more miles with Overbay, going a mile or two at a time. Some brought along their parents, who also took a few laps.

“I had no idea that it would affect some of them the way it did,” Overbay said. “I can’t get over that.”

He could not stop. Arrangements had been made for lights so he could run through the night with one of his ultra marathon buddies at his side. Pizzas and tacos had been donated for dinner.

“The students were so excited,” he said. “I’m a stubborn ultra marathoner. Thankfully, it all worked out. When I saw the sun rise (Saturday morning), I felt like a million bucks at that point.”

Overbay stuck around for the school’s 4.2-mile fun run, which was the original fundraiser before he opened his mouth and stuck his feet in it. Even with a full mouth, he still managed a smile.

Glen Edwards Middle School, Save Our Sports, Tony Overbay, running, ultra marathon

24 Hour Run for GEMS Completed! 111.5 Miles Done!

2011-05-15T13:23:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody! I did it! I'm done! 111.50 miles in the books and the GEMS fundraising event to Save Our Sports program is complete. Notice I typed that the fundraising "event" is done, you're still welcome to stop by www.supportgemssports.com and make a donation.

I am going to write about this event in the coming days, but be warned, if you've read the race report for either of my 100 mile races and thought that those were long, I have a feeling that my write up on this adventure is going to make those look like one of the "Tig and Doll" books that my son cut his teeth on last year in Kindergarten. This 24 hour run was truly one of the hardest, and greatest events that I have ever experienced. It will take pages to thank all those who not only stopped by, but who helped me tremedously, and the students...my goodness, I had no idea what an impact they would have on me. I watched literally hundreds of students run more on Friday than they had ever run in their entire lives. Several students ran over 10 miles with me when they had previously never run more than a mile. I have a feeling that the GEMS cross country program is going to grow tremendously over the coming years.

So more to follow. I have pageantry, from the limo that picked me up at my house, to self-aggrandizement thanks to the 4 news crews that interviewed me. I have drama (I can honestly say that no fewer than 4 medical professionals suggested I stop around 50 miles thanks to some issues with dehydration) and I had people cheer me on, and run with me through all hours of the night.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. PLENTY more to follow. For me, it's going to be a BIG ice cream week!

You can check out the interview with KCRA by clicking here!

Thanks again and more to follow.

GEMS 24 Hour Run - Training Log #4

2011-05-10T14:23:00.000-07:00

As I eyeballed my 13-year-old daughter last night I knew it was on. I approached her, she had just teased me in some way, I can’t even remember what she said, but it was definitely on. She started laughing, and asked me if she could hit me as hard as she could…I was coming in to pick her up off the ground. We were about to do some serious wrassling! We’re talking WWE, or WWF, or whatever the initials are these days, some serious throw-her-into-the-couch-by-her-feet type of wrestling.

Her younger siblings, 2 sisters and a brother, were in the room before I knew it and we were getting ready to fall into a familiar pattern of me vs. all of them in a wrestling match, and we’re not talking them tagging each other in or out, we’re talking 4-on-1. Just as I picked my oldest up off the ground, and my youngest daughter was wailing on my backside, I called a time out! My son got in one last shot as he often does even when “times” has been called. “I can’t do this!” I said. “Just give me one week!”

I’ve been so careful not to do anything too irresponsible over the last few weeks; no skydiving, bungee jumping, or motorcycle riding, no, I didn’t want to jeopardize my upcoming 24 hour run to Support Gems Sports. The run begins in just 3 days! The last thing I needed was to break something, or turn something or just plain hurt something. Hadn’t I learned my lesson? The picture accompanying this post is what happened to me just 3 days before the Salt Lake City marathon a few years ago. I did it playing basketball in the Lincoln rec league. Unfortunately I thought it was just a jam, and with the race and airplane tickets already paid for, I flew to Utah and ran the marathon anyway. My hand swelled up like a beach ball and my fingers went numb. I was trying desperately at the time to lower my marathon time to qualify for Boston. I had put the training in, but something about all of the blood in my body going to my hand didn’t quite jive. I missed a qualifying time by 4 minutes! Not smart. So I was determined not to do anything similar before this run. I went on to eventually qualify for and run Boston, but had I been able to do it with a broken hand, well, I guess that would have made for a better story.

From a training standpoint there hasn’t been much to report. I’ve continued to taper per the schedule I laid out in a previous post. Today was 4 easy miles, yesterday was 5. I’m done. I’ll take tomorrow and Thursday off and then it’s game time! I can’t wait. I already have that familiar “wind-up toy” feeling. I just want to get on the track and start running! I’m not a big fan of the planning part of a race, and for some reason I didn’t think I’d need to plan for this one. I’d show up and run the track. Well, it’s thinking like that that could get me a heap of trouble. I need to make sure I have my fruit, my gels, drinks, changes of socks (and maybe shoes) and clothes depending on the weather. I need to be prepared for anything, blisters, cramps, you name it.

I’ve had plenty of people not from Lincoln ask me about dropping by. PLEASE DO! Right now it looks like we’ll have some nice media coverage on Friday and Saturday mornings. I believe both GEMS and First Street Elementary will have students running with me throughout the day, but after school is out I believe it’s pretty much a free-for-all as to who can run or walk with me. I’ve been asked over and over again what pace I plan on keeping. The simple answer is that I’m not planning on keeping any particular pace; I’ll keep YOUR pace. I’m going to be looking for folks to help me pass the time so I’ll be happy to run at whatever pace you’d like. But, with that said, I do have some of my ultra-running pals coming at the wee hours of the morning to help keep me going. There are plenty of students who have said that they want to run with me at 2 or 3 AM, and that’s fantastic! But I’ll have some backup runners there just in case you guys just want to do a lap or two (or mile or two) and call it good.

And this just in! We have great prizes for the top 3 men and women runners for Saturday’s 4.2 mile fun run/walk. PLEASE sign up for the run at www.supportgemssports.com, or bring your money on Friday, we’ll have a place for sign-ups at the track, OR just show up Saturday morning before 8 AM, you can sign up the day of the race. We guaranteed t-shirts for those who pre-registered, but we may have some additional ones available for purchase the day of the event. And don’t forget about Friday night! Tacos, pizza, it’s going to be a party!

Thanks again for everybody’s support, and a HUGE thank you to our sponsors, we have over 20! Please stop by the website and take a quick look at all of them and PLEASE patronize their businesses…they’re supporting GEMS sports programs.

I hope to see you all out on the track!

GEMS 24 Hour Run - Training Log #3

2011-04-26T11:14:00.000-07:00

Picture to the left, the family unit running a family 5k last year...bring the entire family to the run!

Welcome to the 3^rd installment of “Tony’s Training Log!” It’s been a couple of weeks since I last wrote but not to fear, the Support Gems Sports 24 Hour run AND 4.2 mile fun run are still on like Donkey Kong (somebody told me that Nintendo is truly trying to trademark this phrase, so if you are reading this post and you are seeing that it is “On like Monkey Hong” then you know I’ve been contacted by Nintendo legal). I ran the American River 50 Mile Endurance run a couple of Saturday’s ago (and posted a race report here), so that took a little pep out of my step, but in a good way. Nothing better than 50 hard miles to prepare one mentally for 24 hours around a track. And yes, we’re talking 2 ½ weeks until the big event! If you haven’t already done so please stop what you’re doing and visit www.supportgemssports.com and donate, volunteer, sign up at the very least for the Saturday 4.2 mile walk/fun run. Even if you don’t plan on running it, sign up! It’s a great way to donate to the cause. If you’re not ready for a race, or a walk, sign up anyway and then fake an injury the day before the race! You’ll have donated, you’ll get a t-shirt, and you can get sympathy!

HUGE news, too, we have enlisted the help of a real, live, high-end Public Relations (PR) firm! Fellow Lincoln-resident and long-time PR pro Ray Young, president of Razor Sharp PR, is taking our event and running with it (pun definitely intended). I ran into (pun 2) Ray almost a decade ago when I was lacing up my shoes (pun 3) to start a new venture, and I needed some PR. Ray was incredible, and he has the track record (semi-pun 4) to prove it. Ray is going to help us “pitch” (that’s big-time fancy PR talk) the event to the press, so I’m hoping that in the last couple of weeks leading up to the big day we’ll be able to get the word out like…like, well, I’m out of running puns! Like something related to a run! If your company is in need of some PR work PLEASE give Ray a buzz and give him a shot. I think you’ll be impressed.

Now, back to the training! It’s going well, and this is a perfect lead in to answer some questions. I can’t lie, I’m getting a lot of the same questions, and I’ve answered a couple of them in previous training logs (where or when will I go potty and what will I eat, go check them out here), but let me tackle some with a new angle.

Q. What are you going to be thinking about during your run?

A. There have been so, so many people that have told me that they are going to come run with me (and a couple of GEMS students who frankly told me that they’re going to set up lawn chairs and just watch me!) that I’m truly thinking there won’t be a lot of time to just float into my own world and think random thoughts. During this last 50 miler, I ran with friends for about 25 miles and then I was on my own for 25. From miles 28 through 38, I wasn’t in the best place mentally. Not like psycho-dark types of places where I want to kidnap the Smurfs on anything like that (and why did they have to use the clip where one of them says “Who Smurfed?” in the movie trailer? Now my kids are saying it…OK, I am, too), but more like, “Are we there yet?” type of thinking. But if you read my race report, I truly bounced back around mile 38 and the last 12 were fantastic. In looking back at the race, I got a little behind on my eating (the aforementioned gels) and I think my brain wasn’t quite playing fair. Once I got caught up on my fuel I was back to my happy place. Soooo, during the 24 hour run, when I’m not thinking about you, the people I’m running with, I’m going to try and be thinking, “eat, eat, eat, drink, drink, drink, eat, eat, eat!”

Q. How much are you going to run the last couple of weeks before the run?

A. Great question, and I’ve struggled a bit with this. Running is my “happy place.” Tapering before a race is a form of torture for me. If I don’t run, I start to feel sluggish. I’ve been running for so long (over 20 years) that it’s just flat out part of who I am…and I eat like a runner, meaning a lot (see previous post on my diet). So if I take a few days off, my body still says, “you’re a runner, EAT!” and I do. So the week before a race I’m always in danger of putting on a couple of extra pounds. I don’t want to do that heading into this run. So I really think a couple of weeks out (this Saturday) I’ll try and run an easy 20 miles or so, and then it’ll be time to shut the long stuff down. Probably 6-8 miles a day the following week with an easy 10 miler then Saturday before the run, and then my standard 5, 4, and 3 miles the Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of “race week,” take Thursday off and then on Friday, well, I’ll run for 24 hours (25 if you include the race!).

Q. What has been the best part of all of the pre-run activities?

A. I have LOVED speaking at a couple of local schools. I spoke at the GEMS “Rock the Test” pep rally thanks to an invite by Mrs. Reitman and it was fantastic. We had banana and gel eating contests and I was able to share with the students why I feel like running has a lot of good lessons for life. I also have to tell a quick story that was straight out of a movie. At the pep rally, the 8^th Grade Boys Basketball championship banner was to be unveiled. It was already hung by the other banners in the gym, but it was covered up with a black piece of paper. Mr. Daugherty gave a countdown and then one of the teachers pulled a string/rope that was supposed to pull down the black paper. The students were going nuts! They hit 1 and the teacher pulled the rope and it came down…the rope that is, without the banner. Mr. Langsdon (thanks to his extreme tallness) was tasked to get on a chair and try and jump up and pull the paper down, but it was just a little bit out of reach. This gave me a perfect lead in as I took to the microphone and said, “I hope that I can be just as tough as that paper on May 13^th!” The paper eventually came down, but I’ll never forget that paper’s resolve!

I also absolutely loved going to Foskett Ranch Elementary and speaking during their lunch time. I did the banana eating contest again (I shared with both schools that I eat A LOT of bananas when I run long) and I lost both times, it was legit, too. In the first contest I called up my son Jake, a 1^st grader. We start and I make a big production about peeling the banana because I know I can take Jake. The kids are going crazy chanting, “Go Jake” so I look over to see him half way done. I had only taken one bite. At that point it was too late, he pounded the last half and I was soundly defeated by a 1^st grader. Joey Chestnut watch out…Jake does indeed like hotdogs! During the last lunch break I challenged Ben Buhler. I knew Ben would put up a serious fight but I had learned my lesson from Jake, no messing around. So we were off and I saw quickly that Ben had a gift…a competitive eating gift, and he made EASY work of me much to the delight of the entire lunchroom chanting his name.

Q. How much do you hope to raise?

A. Sorry for the generic answer but as much as we can get! We’ve done the math and it looks like it’ll take about $7k per year to keep all of the sports in action. I would love to see us be able to cover a year or two, but we’ll see how it all goes. I know times are tight financially, but every little donation helps. There are SO MANY people donating their time and energy for this run and for the 4.2 mile Fun Run the following day that I’m just humbled to be a part of it. I have the easy job, truly.

That’s all for now. More posts as we get closer to the big event. I’m in Ohio this week, but that doesn’t mean I can’t run! 10 miles today in downtown Columbus, I even got myself semi-lost, found myself in a sketch part of town and had a couple of middle school kids running with me for a bit on their way to school…and it’s humid! I must have lost a gallon of water on the run. Tomorrow I’m going to run all through THE Ohio State University and then it’s back to California.

Thanks again for your support. If you haven’t done so already, PLEASE visit www.supportgemssports.com and sign up for the run, donate or even just throw a comment on there and let me know when you plan on coming by the track on Friday.

Thanks everybody! Just keep running, just keep running, just keep running…

2011 American River 50 Mile Endurance Run Race Report

2011-04-16T23:18:00.001-07:00

I realize that this race report might be the first race report that many visitors to my website have ever read! Thanks to the generous press and word of mouth behind my upcoming 24 hour run to Support our Sports for GEMS elementary school, my website has a whole fresh set of eyes looking on it and for that I am truly grateful. BUT with that said, for those dropping by to see how the training is going, what you’re about to read is a race report. It’s basically a way for me to brag about running a race all the while trying to turn it into more of an “awww shucks” experience, but where I’m truly looking for “way to go’s!” and “atta boys” when one finishes. OK, only some of that is true.

I have to imagine that the first “race reports” shortly followed the advent of the first man. “Grog hunt Wolley Mammoth along with other cave men. Grog get tired half way through hunt, Grog eat berries and feel much better. Grog eventually take down Woolley Mammoth and set 8 minute PR. Got very nice pelt to wear, too! Grog wish to thank all organizers and volunteers involved with hunt. Grog can’t wait to hunt again next year!”

Race reports are popular in the ultra-world, where many of us scour the internet for any information we can find about a particular race that we’ve put on our race calendar. I’ve commented on it before, but rare is the occasion where you find an ultra-runner that doesn’t already have 3 or 4 (or more) races paid for an on their running calendar (yes, I already have the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 mile in July on mine). What can we say, we like to run? And we like reading about the experiences that other folks have during their races. In an ultra so many things can happen (I was first about to type that so many things can go wrong, but let’s stay positive!) so it’s fun to read what pain and torture and good times other ultra-runners go through in a particular race.

AR 50

Well, my 3^rd running of the American River 50 Mile Endurance Run was definitely full of all of the above, pain, torture and good times! Last Saturday I toed the line with over 800 other ultra-runners in what has grown to become the 2^nd largest 50 miler in the country behind the JFK 50 back east. I did no research to back up this claim, but I’ve said it confidently to many and no one has disagreed.

My oldest daughter Alexa and I worked the packet pickup on Thursday night thanks to an invite from race director Julie Fingar. For those new to the ultra scene, in most 100 mile races, you’re not even allowed to toe the start line unless you have a certain number of volunteer hours either put in on the trail, or at other races. I love volunteering anyway, but the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 does require 12 volunteer hours so I figured I should start racking them up.

I noticed right away that many of the people stopping by the Fleet Feet in Fair Oaks to pick up their race numbers and schwag bags were first time 50 milers. Let it be stated for the record that I wore my Western States 100 mile jacket to packet pickup purely with the intent of one of these newbies asking me, “You’ve run Western States?” To which I would act surprised, “How did you know? Oh, oh, right, the jacket.” I would then proceed to spin a good half an hour yarn about my incredible day on the trail. Unfortunately nobody asked, I guess they looked at me and figured I had borrowed somebody else’s jacket.

Julie had also asked me if I could help load one of the buses the morning of the race. Quick side note, I had to be at the Auburn Overlook to meet the buses at 3:30 AM, that meant getting up at 2:30 AM to start the body working. Surprisingly I fell asleep around 10 PM and slept straight until 2:30 so no complaints on sleeping the night before the race. Loading the buses is fun, everybody is nervous, excited, the temperature at the Overlook was 38 degrees, surprisingly cold, but the forecast for the day showed sunny with highs in the 60’s, it was going to be a perfect day for a run.

As we made our way down to the start, near Guy West Bridge in downtown Sacramento, I asked folks on the bus how many people were running their first 50 miler. There were over a dozen people raising their hands! I told them that the difference between 50k (another popular ultra distance, it’s 31 miles) and 50 miles wasn’t much. The rest of the bus, full of veterans of many ultras I’m sure, laughed LOUD. For those who have run a marathon, picture getting to that finish line and saying, OK, I have 5 more miles to go. Then get to that finish line and say to yourself, OK, only 19 more miles to go!

I met with my good friends Chris Perillo (another Lincoln runner!) and Amy Schmich prior to the race and we started discussing race strategy. The first 27 miles of the course are, for the most part, pavement, and flat. The temptation was to go out fast, to run a fast marathon, and then to try and hang on for the remaining 23 miles of trails. The last three miles of the course are all uphill, I heard one guy say that it’s basically a 47 mile run followed by a 3 mile walk! Chris and I wanted to try and hold an 8:20/mile pace through the marathon mark, Amy said she thought that would be too fast. Let me just ruin the end of this report by saying Amy beat me soundly by the time all was said and done. Amy is an “aww shucks” type of runner who will then beat you easily and then still be really humble about it when she’s done. I believe she had her first overall women’s victory at a trail race just a few months ago and I’m sure there will be more to follow. Chris’ first AR50 was the year of my 2^nd. Chris had started out as someone who was asking me questions about the sport, following my advice, etc., and then at that race he beat me by 10-15 minutes! I’ve been following in his dust ever since.

The Start!

We made our way to the start and before we knew it we were off. The first mile was crowded, and dark, and I made my typical jokes of yelling, “cramp!” and “OK, I’m going for the lead,” and “I like this pace” and “is anybody else already tired?” Not sure why, but those crack me up every race. I realized at this race that they were only cracking me up…but welcome to my world, much of what I do and say is for my benefit :-)

After a slow first mile (9 min pace) thanks to the sheer numbers of folks in the race (did I mention it’s the second biggest 50 miler?) we settled into what we would keep hovering around for the next 20 miles, around an 8 min/mile pace. We would get talking and somebody would look down at his/her watch and say, “we’re at a 7:40!” and we’d back off, then we’d realize again and again and again that we kept going under 8. But we also were all well hydrated and the pit stops in combination with the 8 min miles kept our overall average around 8:10, a little faster than planned, but we were all feeling good.

The views of the river were truly gorgeous. I felt like I saw more this race than I have my two previous AR50’s. There was a light fog hovering over the river in spots. At one point we had sidled up beside the legend himself, Tim Twietmeyer, and we saw a group of wild turkeys. Tim commented that one of them must have thought we were all there to compete for some of his harem because he puffed up and yelled at us as we cruised by. Shortly after that we spotted a deer over on the left hand side of the trail. It was a beautiful morning, I was feeling great and I was running with good friends. This is why I run!

We eventually caught up to Stuart the Pilot. Stuart is one of these guys that has life figured out far earlier than most. He’s 24 and a pilot for SkyWest. He can easily go out and get top 50 in an ultra-yet he doesn’t consider himself an ultrarunner. His first marathon time a couple of years ago? Right around 3 hours. But he’s also nice, so it’s hard to hate him! The 4 of us continued to run together for several miles blowing through the first aid station chatting with other runners as our little pack would grow and shrink as we swallowed up other runners along the American River bike path.

I remember hitting the half marathon mark around 1:44 and thinking that I really felt good! I hadn’t taken much of a taper because I’m ultimately trying to keep my legs a little tired in training for the 24 hour run. I’ve put in a few high mileage weeks with no complaints, but I was worried they might catch up to me going fast on the asphalt. We continued running together until around mile 15. Chris and I made another pit stop and Amy kept on cruising ahead. Stuart had fallen into a rhythm and had moved ahead of us. Chris and I ran together to the Fish Hatchery aid station around mile 18. I learned at this race that I really waste time at aid stations! Chris was in and out quickly and it took me a minute to down a couple of salt tablets, a couple of gels and get both my water bottles filled (Chris, Amy and Stuart were all running with one bottle). From the Fish Hatchery you cross under Hazel and then start up onto the bridge for the first decent climb of the day. I ran it fine and was still feeling good. I could see Chris and Amy up ahead climbing the first trail hill of the day up to the Nimbus Overlook. I ran the hill and then descended down the other side and went back onto the bike path.

After a quarter of a mile or so you take a left and head up a wide dirt fire road. I remember in previous AR50’s already starting to feel fatigue going up this road. It has a slight incline and typically I’m farther back in the pack with folks who walk it to save their legs. I realized that a) I was running it and b) so were those around me. I felt like I had moved up in the world!

Amy was still in my sights but Chris was a little ways ahead now with Stuart nowhere to be seen. The course started moving from single track trail back to the bike path over and over again. I really don’t mind the bike path, and I really enjoyed the trails so for me it was perfect. I came upon a couple of people out for a walk who asked if we were doing a marathon. I told them we were doing two! The lady let out an audible “oh dear!” Things like that truly give you a little buzz and I continued past the 22 mile mark still feeling good.

It was somewhere around here where I came down the bike path and was surprised to see Amy come running out of a restroom (sorry Amy, I just blew your cover if you, like my wife, have your kids convinced that you don’t go to the bathroom). We ran together for a bit and I was glad in the “misery loves company” sort of way to hear that Amy was starting to get tired. For whatever reason right around mile 24 it hit me, too. We ran alongside each other for the next mile or two without saying much. We crossed the marathon mark at 3:41 and Amy yelled back “I just qualified for Boston!” I moved into the Beal’s Point aid station right around 3:47 according to the splits posted on a results site later that day. At that point I was apparently in 87^th place out of the 800 plus runners, but I was feeling tired. I saw Karyn Hoffman, an ultra running friend, and asked her if she could text my wife (at my son’s baseball game, go Bats! Coach Tony thought about you guys during the race!) and let her know to plan on around 8:30 (meaning 8 hours and 30 minutes). I had a crazy, secret goal of 8 hours and had told Wendy to be up at the Overlook around 2 PM just in case I could pull it off. This way I was being more realistic and giving her some cushion.

The Beal’s Point AS is wonderful, tons of people there, loud music, it really gives you some life. It took me longer than expected however, as at this point it was around 10 AM and I needed sunscreen.I didn’t want a repeat of my Miwok 100k experience last year. I ran a great race, but I ran it in my Brooks team singlet, with an open visor hat on the coast with no clouds in the sky…for 12 hours. I was FRIED! And I was running in the exact same get up on this day. I took a couple of minutes and covered myself. I would do this 3 more times this day. Above my overall time, this was my greatest accomplishment! I was then on to the trails portion of the course, something I had been looking forward to all day.

I ran across the levee and saw on my watch that I was barely keeping a 10 min/mile pace, I was definitely starting into a bad spot. I hit the trails, downhill thankfully, and picked it up, but then quickly found myself power hiking up a set of switchbacks that I had planned on running. This would continue to be the pattern for the next 10 miles. I ran the flats slowly, and even struggled on some of the more technical downhill sections thanks to a little residual muck and mud left over from the rains of a couple of weeks ago. At one point I had my first experience with my shoe coming off and staying in the mud! Nothing quite like stepping in mud to pull your shoe out of it, then throwing your muddy foot inside of your muddy shoe and moving on. Thankfully there were enough stream crossings that I could adequately give my feet a good washing before moving on. Another race down, by the way, with no blisters, black toenails or anything of the sort. I am SO incredibly grateful to have been blessed with feet that ain’t pretty, but that are pretty darned hearty.

There’s a section of the trail lovably referred to as the “meat grinder” in this section, and I don’t think it’s because there is an actual meat grinding plant anywhere near, I think it’s because it can chew you up, grind you down and spit you out, and from miles 32 through 38 this was definitely the case for me. It felt like I was either climbing something steep enough that I couldn’t run it, or walking gingerly down something rocky, rooty or muddy enough that I couldn’t really run it. It went on for this for miles! At mile 35 I hit an oasis also known as the Buzzard’s Cove aid station. Friend Matt Keyes and his pals have to boat food and water into this aid station and carry it up the trail. For the most part my food, and hydration, seemed to be OK, but I remember a mile or so out of Buzzard’s I was really looking forward to what they had to offer each year…an ice cream cone! I’ve taken one in the past just to get a little taste and my reputation for consuming ice cream proceeds me, I’m typically being told that the ice cream is just for me! And yes, I know that they say that to everybody. But on this day that ice cream sounded so good! And it was. I ate the whole thing on a climb out of Buzzards. The next 3 miles were more of the same.

The Turning Point

I finally hit the small climb that led to the mile 38 aid station and I heard my ultrarunning best buddy Jeffery Johnston yell, “you’re walking Tony, run that hill!” His son Jason saw me, he was down near where I was and he started running up the hill. Jeffery told me that Jason shouldn’t be beating me (he’s in 3^rd grade!)! Jeffery checked in with me and I told him that I had a rough few miles, he said to suck it up, eat something and that the next three miles were extremely runnable. He said he’d see me at Horshoe Bar Aid Station at mile 41. I knew that he had a little bit of driving to do so I figured if I ran the next 3 miles fast enough I could beat him there, so I took off. From 38 on I felt like I was starting a new race! That’s one of the many things I love about ultras, perseverance typically pays off, unless you haven’t eaten, drank, salted or trained enough! I busted through the 2^nd or 3^rd “wall” of the day and I ran strong into mile 41. Sure enough, Jeffery was nowhere to be seen.

Before I got to 41 I was starting to calculate whether or not I’d even be able to beat my previous PR of 9:21? When I got to 41 I knew I had the next 9 miles so I asked a woman in the crowd if she could text my wife and tell her 8:45, that would give me something to shoot for. I knew the section of trail coming up fairly well and with the way I was feeling I figured I could run it strong.

The next three miles flew by, running by the Power Station, over the bridge and then onto the single track rollers up to Manhattan Bar. I ran everything and came into MB with only 6 miles to go feeling like I was now in 100 mile gear, aka “all day pace.” I was also excited because I felt like I really only had 3 miles to go, that mile 47, where the last three miles of hills started, was truly a different race. I had myself convinced of that purely to help pass the miles mentally, so I felt like I had two things to look forward to from here, a 3 mile trail run and a 3 mile climb.

I picked off a few runners over the next 3 miles…let me stop and say that during that 10 mile stretch of bad I was passed by a lot of runners, an embarrassingly high number, many of who knew me which makes it worse, but now I was finding my rhythm. Let’s go back to stats. I finished in 115^th place, I’m happy with that, but remember at Beal’s I was in 87^th! So I got passed by all those folks, and many had pacers with them (you could pick up a pacer after Beals) so it felt like I had been passed by hundreds! If you go back to my Western States race report I was only passed twice over the last 55 miles, while I passed over 100 people. I thought that this was how today was going to be, too. Not so much.

Before I knew it I was heading up the steepest grade of the day, a gravel road up to the Last Chance aid station. Last Chance is awesome. I had drained most of my water, and they send runners volunteering at the AS down to meet you half way up your climb and then they take off running and fill your bottles while you keep on trucking up the hill. I was starting to get hungry, I never get hungry during a run, but I had taken some Oreos from Last Chance the last time I ran AR50 and they sounded really good to me again. So I grabbed 3 Oreos and kept a steady power walk up the steep incline.

Once I powered down the Oreos I decided to start playing the “run 100 steps and walk 50” game up the steeper part of the pavement climb. I continued to do this until I hit a section that I had actually forgotten about where the grade wasn’t so bad…it was runnable! So I just kept motoring up the hill. With a little over 1 mile to go, my friend Steve Itano yelled up at me. Steve is typically about an hour faster on this course, but he had a rough day. We kept moving up the hill together both of us taking a small walk break and then running again. We both wanted to break 9 hours and we knew we had it in the bag. I actually slowed and told Steve nice job and he said, “no, come on!” It was perfect and he and I picked it up and ran the last mile together. He wanted to cross together and I was grateful for his generosity, but I spotted my family decked out in their “Crew Overbay” shirts and I stopped for high 5’s before crossing the finish line with an official time of 8:49:58, good for 115^th place overall and a 32 minute PR for me on the AR 50 course.

Overall I had a fantastic day. As per usual I learned a bunch, and while I truly wish I could have made it through that rough spot with a bit more pizazz, I was happy to have finished feeling strong. Next year I’ll plan on taking another 45 minutes off my PR. I told somebody that I felt like my legs were definitely in 50 mile shape, I never really ran into much cramping, and while my legs were fatigued, they never quit on me, but apparently my mind was only in 40 mile shape. But that was just on this day, on this course, come May 13^th my mind will most definitely be in 24 hour shape!

Huge thanks to Julie Fingar and all of the volunteers who help put on what is an extremely well organized and well run 50 miler. I’ll be back! Grog like finishers jacket, too!

GEMS parents, students and staff rally to Save Our Sports

2011-04-10T22:57:00.000-07:00

I did it! The American River 50 miler is in the books. It was a great day, I knocked 34 minutes off my PR (personal record). I'm a little sore as of Sunday but feeling great...next up, the GEMS 24 hour run just a little over a month away. The following is the story that ran in the local newspaper on the run. My official American River 50 mile race report will follow in the next day or two. Stay tuned and thank you to everyone for your support!

Tony Overbay, a Lincoln father of four, will enter the Save Our Sports 4.2 mile fun run on Saturday May 14 at Glen Edwards Middle School (GEMS).

Overbay, however, won’t begin his run at Saturday’s 8 a.m. starting time along with the other runners; he’ll start 24 hours earlier on Friday May 13, just after school starts.

Overbay is hoping to raise awareness, and also funds, for the school’s sports programs, which could be eliminated as budget cuts continue to hit California schools.

“My oldest daughter, Alexa, 13, is on the cross country team and my daughter, Mckinley, 11, will attend GEMS next year and she wants to run, too. I have two more kids who will eventually attend GEMS, who are also interested in sports,” Overbay said. “When I heard about the meeting a few weeks ago that was being held with the goal of coming up with some new fundraising ideas, I thought I’d put my legs where my mouth was.”

Overbay is a seasoned ultra-marathon runner. An ultra-marathon is any race longer than the marathon distance of 26.2 miles. Overbay has completed more than 70 marathons and ultra-marathons over the last 20 years.

But despite his race resume, which includes the Western States and Rio Del Lago 100 Mile Endurance runs as well as the Boston Marathon, he’s still nervous to take on this 24-hour run.

“When I drove home from the meeting, after volunteering to run, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest,” Overbay said. “It wasn’t until later that I realized by opening my mouth, I was committed to not just showing up at the starting line but also at the finish line. A DNF (‘did not finish’) is not an option. There will be a lot of people counting on me.”

According to the President’s Council on Physical Fitness and Sports, significant health benefits can be obtained by including a moderate amount of physical activity (i.e. 30 minutes of brisk walking or raking leaves, 15 minutes of running, 45 minutes of playing volleyball). Additional health benefits can be gained through greater amounts of physical activity.

Glen Edwards Middle School students and faculty plan on sending Overbay off on May 13 at 8 a.m. Students will run with him during the day in their P.E. classes. GEMS is planning a fundraising dinner at the track on Friday night and Overbay will continue to run through the night, finishing the run with the 4.2 mile fun on Saturday morning.

“I can’t wait to come and support Tony,” said Denise Blackstock, one of the event’s organizers and the Glen Edwards Middle School’s Association of Parents, Teachers, Students president. “I think this GEMS run/walk is a great way to raise money for the sports programs. My daughter, Taryn, runs cross country, and she wants to run with Tony at 2 a.m., and I’ll be joining her.”

In addition to raising funds, Overbay hopes to raise awareness of running.

“Foot by foot, mile for mile, minute for minute, I believe running is the best exercise one can do to increase health and fitness,” Overbay said. “All you need is a pair of shoes and you can run anywhere. I’ve run all over the world on vacations and business trips. I’ve seen many friends throughout the years pick up running and the difference it makes in their lives, both physically and mentally.”

“The science is there, running, or any other exercise for that matter, can really lift you up out of a funk,” Overbay said. “I’m truly hoping that some of the kids, and their parents learn about the run and will say that if this old, bald guy can run for 24 hours straight, then maybe I can try it for a few minutes. Hopefully, running will become a part of their life.”

Follow Overbay through his training for the event by signing up for the Saturday run, either as a runner, a volunteer or by making a donation. Visit supportgemssports.com for more information.

And cheer on Overbay on May 13 and May 14 as he runs the GEMS track for 24 hours. Food and festivities will be going on the night of May 13.

Adults are $20 and Kids Fun Run is $10. All proceeds will go to Save Our Sports.

GEMS 24 Hour Run - Training Log #2

2011-04-04T14:05:00.000-07:00

Come run with me! At the left, running buddy Tom Wagner and I at the St. George Marathon. This picture is posted purely to embarrass both Tom and myself. We both look like we're mid-chew of some type of cud, and notice my medal, I had already finished and came back out to run Tom in.

Another week down means another week closer to the big run! I’m running the American River 50 Mile Endurance Run this Saturday, so from a mileage standpoint I’ve actually had a bit of a down week (only 43 miles Mon-Sat). This week will be even less. I ran 6 this AM, I’ll go 5 tomorrow and then just a couple of 3 mile runs Wed and Thursday before taking Friday off before the race. As funny as it may sound, I don’t enjoy down weeks. When I don’t run I feel a bit antsy, and a week or two of tapering before a race leaves me feeling like a wind-up toy at the starting line. I have to continually tell myself not to go out too fast. I can’t even imagine what I’ll feel like on Friday, May 13^th at 8 AM. I’m going to be so incredibly pumped to run for GEMS!

So as you wake up this Saturday morning, think of me running from Sacramento up to Auburn (race time starts at 6 AM, heads up the American River bike trail from the Guy West bridge to Beal’s Point, and then up to Auburn via the trails)! Even better, come stop by one of the aid stations and check out the action. The American River 50 miler is the second largest 50 mile race in the country, second only to the JFK 50 miler. Once you get around one of these races you can’t help but want to run!

As the word spreads about my 24 hour run, I’ve been overwhelmed by the positive response of friends, neighbors and complete strangers. I had my first “thank you for what you’re doing” from a parent while my wife and I were waiting to return a movie at Redbox a few night ago. I was touched…for a moment… and then I was right back to wishing that Redbox had a separate place for returns. Nothing better than waiting behind a group of people playing the “have you seen this movie?” game while a line grows waiting to simply return a movie. I have one word for these folks, redbox.com (is that technically one word, or three?). But I digress, the sentiment from this parent was truly one that I hadn’t expected. I feel like I’m being selfish. I’m the one who gets to run for 24 hours! For me this run is exciting, another way to push myself, and something that I can actually do to help out the school. But I truly do appreciate all of the nice words.

So the questions are coming in rapidly, and I want to do my best to answer as many as I can. Let’s dive in!

Q. So what can I do to help?

A. Great question! Tell everybody that you know about the run. Twitter it, facebook about it, email information to everybody in your contact list! Visit the website, http://www.supportgemssports.com/ and donate! Sign up for the run! (I get the feeling I’m going to be using more exclamation points per column inch than anyone in the world for the next few weeks!). You don’t even have to be able to run the 4.2 miles, there will be plenty of people walking the course. It’s going to be a beautiful day, with a lot of buzz in the air (by people and bees alike!) so just come out and enjoy the morning. And if you own a business, large or small, please consider making a donation of money, or of goodies. We’re putting together gift baskets, we’ll have sponsors, and we’ll be selling raffle tickets for some very nice prizes. We can use all of the help that we can get getting the word out and getting funds and items in. My sponsor, Brooks Shoes, has donated some really nice water bottles and a couple of pairs of shoes to the raffle. I mentioned the run to the folks at the Spring Hill Suites by Marriott and they’ve offered a couple of one-night stays. Guiding Fitness, Old Town Pizza, the sponsors are starting to come in and we are extremely grateful. But we’ll take more!

Q. What if I’m not a runner.

A. That’s OK! Just come walk the track during my 24 hour run, or walk the race. I could definitely use the encouragement. It will be a party-like atmosphere and the more people to the party the merrier. And let me just get on my soap box for just a minute (hey, I’m actually tall on this soap box!). Just because I’m running for 24 hours, please don’t discount your own ability to get out and exercise. I’ve been running for decades to be able to build up to this type of mileage. I remember when I moved to Lincoln back in 1993. I would run from First Street, down “0”, up Nicolaus and turn left on Joiner and back to First Street. It was just a couple of miles and I thought I was THE BOMB! I didn’t even think about running my first marathon at that point. Marathons were for crazy people! And speaking of my first marathon, that was a horrible experience (you’ll have to search through my website and find where I tell the story of that first marathon experience. Let’s just say it ended at mile 13 with me walking like the tin man and a certain Taco Bell breakfast burrito being given back to the earth). I hope that my running can inspire young and old alike to take a look at the wonderful sport of running.

Running is truly amazing, and it can be done for little to no money, anywhere, anytime. My wife is a serious cyclist. She rides 100 milers (Centuries they call them in the cycling world) and spends a ton of time “in the saddle” (now I’m just showing off to impress her that I speak biking, too!). I bought a bike a year ago and have gone on a few rides with her, but I’m cursed with getting flat tires, and my chain pops off and all of that stuff. I keep telling her, “this doesn’t happen when I run!” And all that stuff about running being bad on your knees is OLD SCIENCE! This article by NPR is just the latest of many studies that have come out over the last few years saying that running actually helps your joints. As a veteran of hundreds of races, and tens of thousands of miles I’m telling you I’ve never felt better…and after a long run you can totally justify an extremely large bowl of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with mini-chocolate chips. I’m just saying…

Q. Speaking of food, now we know that you’ll be eating gels during your run (from my last post), but what do you eat when you’re not running. Surely you don’t really live on fast food and ice cream?

A. Define “live on?” OK, quick, funny story here. I’ve eaten pretty much whatever I wanted most of my life. I’m not saying that with pride, because I’ve always known that at some point I should really combine good eating WITH my exercise. I stand 5’8” tall (with shoes on!) for Pete’s sake. If I just look at a piece of pizza without exercising I’ll put on weight. When I first started getting into ultrarunning, I read a book by Dean Karnazes called Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All Night Runner. It’s a really fun read and it got me super excited about going beyond the marathon distance that I was starting to get a little bit used to. Dean talks about eating a pizza while he was running. I thought that sounded like a nice reason to start ultrarunning. But he really didn’t mention a whole lot more about his diet…until the Q&A in the back. I so, so wanted him to say, “I eat nothing but junk and it’s OK.” But much to my chagrin (and doesn’t chagrin sound like it should be a positive word? It has the word “grin” right in it!) Dean has a few pages on how clean he actually eats, not even breaking down for a piece of birthday cake at a party.

I am not Dean Karnazes, I will eat the birthday cake…and a lot of other things, but I think it’s safe to say that I eat about 80-90% “clean” meaning for the most part I stay away from processed foods and white breads, etc. I try to stick to a mostly plant-based diet with a bunch of fruits and nuts and beans and veggies. I got a hold of the book “Eat to Live” by Dr. Furhman, a while ago and I really like what it teaches, and how it changes your outlook on food.

Eat to Live advocates a vegan diet, and if you can’t do vegan, a vegetarian diet, and if you can’t do that, at least a moderately low amount of meat. I went the vegan route for a few weeks and for me, personally, it was hard (ice cream and chocolate milk contain dairy). I can’t lie, I liked the way I felt, but it was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I essentially adhere for the most part to a vegetarian diet with one exception…when a little meat sounds good! I don’t mean that to sound disrespectful for any practicing vegans or vegetarians, again, I’m probably 95% with you, but every now and again an In-N-Out burger just sounds good and if you've seen my Facebook photos from my recent trip to Japan, well, there's one in there that speaks for itself.

Q. What if it rains?

A. I wear a rain jacket. A couple of years ago, my ultrarunning friend Jeffery Johnston and I headed down to the Marin Headlands to run the Miwok 100k (62 miles for those metrically challenged). It’s a very hard, but beautiful run with ocean views and mountain climbs. We both trained hard for the race and couldn’t wait for race day. The day before a monsoon blew in. We drove down and stayed in a hotel near the start. We listened to the wind howl and the rain pound all night long, trying to convince each other that it would blow over by morning. It didn’t. We ran for over 12 hours in the rain that next day. It wasn’t as bad as I thought, so if it rains, I’m still running…but let’s hope it doesn’t.

Keep those questions coming!

Alrighty, a little mental test this Saturday with the 50 miler. That’ll be nice to have behind me on the way to the 24 hour run. Oh yeah, I’m doing a pep rally at GEMS this Friday, can’t wait. I still get the sense that some students (and parents) think that this is some sort of “stunt” done tongue-in-cheek, that I won’t really be running for 24 hours. No, this thing is real! And I can’t wait!

GEMS 24 Hour Run - Training Log # 1

2011-03-28T15:48:00.000-07:00

The last donut. Just a couple of days ago I visited the Pink Box donut shop in Lincoln for the third time over the last few weeks to have my “last donut” before my upcoming races. Admittedly it was my third trip over a 7 day span to get my “last donut” but this time I really meant it! Back in my early marathon days I was so good about eating right during the weeks leading up to my races. At that time I was only running one or two marathons a year, so the build up was huge! I tapered my running 3 weeks before the big race, overloaded with carbs a week out and started “super hydrating” 3 days before, all in an attempt to run the perfect race.

Fast forward a few years and many thousands of miles (and hundreds of pairs of shoes, thank you Brooks!) later. Over the last 3 or 4 years I’m averaging 7-8 ultra-marathons a year and another 3 or 4 regular marathons. I’ve come to the realization that I run partially so that I can continue to eat like a teenager! I’m less than 2 weeks out from the American River 50 miler, and just 6-7 weeks from my big 24 hour run around the track of Glen Edwards Middle School (and a mere 3 months from the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 miler). If there was ever a time to cut out the donuts (and the cookies, and the ice cream, and the candy and the…well, you get the point) it would be now! Well, maybe not now, how about next week?

On the training front, everything is going well. I’ve put in 3 straight 70+ mile weeks with my daily runs anywhere between 7-13 miles, and my last 4 Saturday runs all over 20 miles…including a pretty boring 20 on the treadmill thanks to the rain last weekend. During one Saturday run I actually stopped by my future home, the GEMS track, with the goal of running 3 or 4 miles around the track to finish up my run. I made it to the track with 17 miles on my legs, I felt great! I did a lap, then two, and then realized that running on a track is going to be a bit, well, monotonous? So now, more than ever, I’m really looking forward to everybody coming out to support the S.O.S. program (Save Our Sports!) and keeping me company around the track.

Just a few quick answers to questions that I’m being asked regularly as the word spreads around our small town. I’ll plan on posting these regularly as we get closer to the big even. By far, the most asked question (drum roll please…)

Q. How do you go to the bathroom when you run for 24 hours?

A. I don’t! My body mutates into a quasi-electrolyte-induced proton-neutral state where the positive ions collide with the tetra-glycerides causing me to enter into a fugue-like state which requires very little in the way of elimination…OK, that’s all made up…they’re going to have porta-potties at the track! The first part sounded better though, didn’t it? Follow up question, will I run while in the porta-potty? Only if it won’t make a mess.

Q. What do you eat while you run?

A. This is a great question. I could write a page on this one alone. During my marathon days I’d simply rely on Gatorade at the aid stations, typically every other mile. Sometimes you’d throw down a gel (goo-like packets of pure carbohydrates) at mile 20 to get you past “the wall” and that was that. During an ultra-marathon, you HAVE to eat or you’ll run out of gas, your legs will cramp up, you can get dizzy, and a host of other problems can occur up to and including (key the dramatic music) death! OK, death is rare, but it does make for a better story. But some of the science involved here is that in a marathon, one can build up their glycogen stores to hold enough fuel to get one through 20 miles or so (maybe more, maybe less). When that glycogen is gone, you’re burning a much less efficient fuel, i.e. your fat, or your muscle. That’s “the wall!” You struggle through a few miles and then you’re done, and you go home and pig out. In an ultra, you’re going to run out of everything in your body, and you still have hours and hours and miles and miles to go. So it’s important to eat early and eat often.

I, personally, burn somewhere between 110-125 calories per mile. Figure at a nice, easy pace of 8 or 9 minutes a mile I’ll be covering about 7 plus miles an hour, and I’ll be burning close to 1,000 calories an hour. Those calories need to be replenished. A lot of ultra-running folks can tolerate solids during a run, and I’ve seen people eat anything and EVERYTHING including pizza, In-n-Out, sushi, turkey sandwiches, you name it. I spent a year, over the course of 7 or 8 ultra-marathons, trying solid foods and they just don’t sit right with me. So I have to turn to the gels. I happen to like Power Bar’s Energy gel, they get you about 100 – 150 calories per gel. I can only tolerate a couple per hour, so the rest of my calories come from liquids. I like Gu Brew, and I mix it strong, typically 4 scoops in my 24 ounce water bottle (normal serving is 2 scoops) along with a little scoop of Endurox, which contains some protein (but not too much or it bugs my stomach). So I have to work pretty hard to keep the calories coming in. I also like some fruit, mainly bananas. I was big on watermelon, but at one particular race I think I “gave back” about a whole watermelon 27 or 28 miles into the race and, well, it just hasn’t quite sounded so good ever since :-) Poolside on a sunny day, sure, but during a run, well, not so much right now.

But look at that benefit of ultra-running! If you want an easy way to burn off 24,000 calories just commit to a 24 hour run! And on that note, we’ll have medical folks and a scale at the run. At most 100 milers, you weigh in periodically. If you’re down 10 lbs or up 10 lbs at any given time they typically make you sit out until your body gets a little more balanced. Down 10 lbs is easy, you’re sweating it out. Up 10 lbs is bad, your kidneys aren’t doing what they’re supposed to. I, personally, have been down as low as 9 lbs in a race and up as much as 4 lbs, so we’ll definitely be watching my weight as I run.

Q. What will you be thinking about while you run around a track for 24 hours?

A. Well, hopefully I’ll be talking to YOU (whoever is reading this) while you run with me, and when we’re not talking, I’ll be thinking about all of you who will hopefully be donating a couple of bucks to the cause.

More updates to follow, sign up to get them sent to your inbox, or check back often!

Tony

24 Hour Run for GEMS, aka What Was I Thinking?

2011-03-13T23:19:00.000-07:00

Last week I truly put my money where my mouth was. Well, actually that phrase, while sounding pretty dramatic, isn’t really on the mark. I put my legs where my mouth was? Where my thoughts were? Well, where my good intentions were…and now I’m committed to an adventure that has me more frightened and more excited than I’ve ever been for any race in my life!

Last Wednesday night my wife informed me about a meeting being held at Glen Edwards Middle School (GEMS) by a group of parents and faculty with the goal of saving the school’s sports program. As budget cuts continue, word is beginning to come down from on high that the sports program may be severely affected as early as next year. The group was organized in an effort to proactively raise funds to pay for equipment, busses, uniforms and teachers. They presented a slide presentation (sounds like they showed vacation slides, but not THAT kind of slide presentation, PowerPoint slides) that showed that the cost of these items for a year is in excess of $7k. My daughter runs cross country, and I have another daughter coming in next year who wants to run and play basketball with two more kids to follow so this truly affects the Overbay home. I grew up playing every sport that I could (I even went through a very short Cricket phase but ultimately decided the phrase “sticky wicket” had no place in a real sport). But, when my wife said, “one of us needs to go to the meeting” a mere 15 minutes before it began, I knew that by “one of us” she meant me.

Now, backup a bit. Last year I read about Greg Bomhoff, a Loomis dad who ran 24 hours around the Franklin Elementary school track in an effort to raise money for his kid’s school. As an ultra-runner myself (for any new folks to my blog, an ultra is any race longer than a marathon…which is 26.2 miles, common ultra distances are 50k, or 32 miles, 50 milers, 100k’s and 100 milers), my first thought was, admittedly, jealousy! “Why didn’t I think of doing something like that?” I tucked Greg’s feat into the back of my head and thought that maybe someday down the road there would be a reason to follow in his footsteps (although not literally in them, as in his shoes, because after running for 24 hours I’m sure they were a bit ripe!). I shared the story with another ultra-running friend and we kicked around the idea of doing it at some point in the future, possibly for a local elementary school as we both had kids there. He and I met for lunch recently and when I brought up the prospects of the run, he said that he had a little too much on his plate and that he couldn’t commit right now. I thought that pretty much put an end to me running 24 hours any time soon (or at least until the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 miler that I’m signed up for in July).

So there I was driving to the meeting and I felt my heart racing. Was I about to volunteer to run for 24 hours around a track? While I’ve run for up to 25 hours and 100 miles on beautiful, rolling trails, the most I think I’ve ever done on a track is a couple of miles. I slipped into the meeting and sat over to the side. I couldn’t stop thinking about volunteering to run. The faculty and leaders of the fundraising arm of S.O.S (Save our Sports) made a presentation and then they shared information on three fundraisers that they had planned, a dance, a run and a fireworks booth.

A run.

There it was. The wheels started spinning. They shared that they would hold a fun run on Saturday, May 14^th. I started thinking that I could start my run on Friday the 13^th…13 was my favorite number growing up, and I’ve never been one to shy away from the so called “unluckiest day on the calendar”…and then end the run with the race. At this point I was sweating bullets. I told myself that I’d go talk to the two chief fundraisers, Kristin and Denise, immediately after the meeting and throw out my idea. But then I started seeing holes in my plan. What if after the meeting they were bombarded with people? I’d lose my gumption and I’d tell myself that I could call them later. Maybe somebody else in the room would volunteer to run for 24 hours before me!? But I knew that if I left the meeting there was a decent chance I could talk myself out of it. So I got up during the next set of slides and slid myself right over beside Kristin and told her about my plan. She told Denise, they told Mrs. Reitman, one of the faculty in charge, and by the time the meeting was over it seemed like the entire event was planned! I was in! I was so excited, they seemed excited, everybody was excited…and then I got into my car. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to come through my chest. I couldn’t understand why? I done a couple of 100 mile runs already, ran for 24 hours on much tougher terrain than a track, I’m already signed up to do a 50 mile run in April and another hundred miler in July. I’m running more than ever and feeling great so it wasn’t the “in shape” part, so what was it? About half way home it hit me that despite running now in over 60 marathons and ultra-marathons, you always have the option to call it a day early if you get injured, if you’re sick, etc. (so far I’ve only had one DNF, or Did Not Finish, in my racing career, I stopped 18 miles into a 32 miler thanks to a flu last year) but with so many plans being made for this run I realized that there’s no such thing as a DNF in a solo fundraiser!

We met yesterday, a room full of teachers and parents, before school to discuss the specifics of the race as well as my run. A lot of information still to come, but as for now, mark Friday the 13^th of May down on your calendar and plan on coming out and running a few laps with me, whether it’s at 8:15 AM, which I start, or 3:15 AM when I’ll no doubt be a bit loopy, and then stay and run the 4.2 mile fun run on Saturday morning. I shouldn’t have much left in the tank for that run so I’m looking forward to getting beat by hopefully hundreds and hundreds of people! The plan right now is to really get the community involved, get folks excited about running, have a fundraising dinner that evening around the track (Mrs. Reitman was nice enough to ask if me smelling food after running for 12 hours would be mean!). My shoe sponsor, Brooks, is planning on providing some goodies to giveaway and we’re lining up sponsors and a lot of additional activities. I plan on Tweeting during the run (I haven’t tweeted anything during the 2+ years I’ve had a Twitter account mind you), you can sign up, or follow me at @tonyoverbay on Twitter, or friend me on Facebook, I’ll be posting updates leading up to the run there.

Alrighty, I have to start practicing my mantra, in the slightly-changed vein of Doree in Finding Nemo…

Just keep running…

Cliches - NOT a Newsmessenger Column

2010-12-21T20:53:00.000-08:00

In the words of the 80's super group Boston, It's Been Such a Long Time! I haven't posted on this here blog in months. I submitted a column to my trusty newspaper of 10 years back in August and then our tiny town of Lincoln, CA got caught up in a political frenzy. Councilmen (or council-people), measures, several topics took up the column inches of the paper and my column was put aside for sometime in mid-November. Turns out that a column about a summer vacation in November isn't so topical and I received the first "kill" of my writing career...this one wouldn't see the light of newsprint. And so I post a column that was originally slated for back in August. As for new columns, well, I kind of sort of got out of the habit of writing them! A decade of deadlines down the dumper (not the best attempt at alliteration but an attempt nonetheless). My New Year's Resolutions will most certainly include a commitment to get back on track, back on the stick, and a bunch of other cliches...and with that I present to you the killed column...on cliches!

How does a cliché become a cliché? Sometimes it’s because they’re obvious, like, “You can’t stop at one chip” or “as welcome as a skunk at a lawn party”. Or, when I walk outside for my morning run, I think that the early bird will indeed get the worm, because there are a ton of them off course wiggling around on my driveway. And somebody needs to come up with an appropriate cliché for the snail? I see enough of those in the pre-dawn hours, too. Actually I guess there’s “slow as a snail” and that is truly the case, as many times I just find an empty shell where the snail once resided by the time the noon day sun rolls around, the snail being far too slow to make it back to, well, wherever they go during the day.

Sometimes a cliché doesn’t make much sense, one that comes to mind is “hungry like a horse.” I was at my friend Trevor’s a couple of weeks ago watching my daughter ride a horse and I caught a glimpse of one of the horses eating some hay. They seemed to be taking their time, and just the fact that they’re eating hay sort of takes the steam out of that cliché. “Slowly eating hay,” doesn’t quite paint the same picture as maybe, “hungry as my son by the time our In-n-Out number is finally called.” He’s typically on his 2^nd or 3^rd “ketchup shooter” by then.

The Overbay family lived a cliché a couple of weeks ago while travelling to Utah on vacation. On more than one occasion I’ve heard friends talk about breaking down in the middle of nowhere, and at the risk of offending the few dozen people that live in Carlin, NV, I’m officially deeming that place, “nowhere.” Now, I can’t possibly be blamed for counting on my 130,000 mile mini-van that has had what I thought to be every part that could possibly be replaced, well, replaced over the past 6 months. I guess I forgot about the fuel pump, apparently that’s a pretty important part of the car and definitely necessary in order to get across the desert. It’s like an old man who has every joint and organ in his body replaced and then, all of a sudden, his esophagus falls out. Fuel isn’t going to get to all of those artificial parts!

The car started sputtering on an uphill just before the Carlin exit. I knew we were in trouble. Thankfully one of the kids had requested a potty break. With four kids, and one dad with a kid-sized bladder, that was an every half hour occasion. As we exited I could feel the car lurching, letting me know it was about to take an extended break. We pulled into a gas station and I turned the car off while the family unit went inside. Sensing the worst, I tried to start the car immediately and it wouldn’t turn over. Here’s the best part, I know nothing about cars. I’m a mechanics dream (and hopefully my mechanic Corey isn’t reading this). Tell me that the darned Johnson Rod is out again and I’m reaching for my wallet. The wigi-fram, or the bi-herculean-transporter goes out and I confidently shake my head and say, “Yeah, pretty sure I felt that giving out back around Battle Mountain.” I shudder every time I think of how many flux capacitors I’ve paid for during a routine oil change, and those things are expensive!

So when the first person that sees me about to cry as I’m trying to start the car for the hundredth time gives a 30 second diagnosis that it could be the fuel pump, I grab hold of that like my son and his double-double. I confidently tell anyone who will listen that I think it’s the fuel pump. My wife, clearly onto my ruse, was the first person to ask, “And just how do you know that?” I quickly give her that look of, “What else could it be? It’s obviously the fuel pump. Well, or the Johnson Rod.”

Before we knew it we were getting a scenic tour of the 20 mile stretch of Interstate 80 between Carlin and Elko, NV in 95 degree heat with the windows down. One can’t ask for a better tour guide either than a grizzled tow truck driver, one who I had to convince to take all four of my kids into Elko, he insisted he only had room for four out of the six of us. I also tried to coax him into forgetting to strap down the van on the back of the truck. I was officially done with that car and figured we’d collect more insurance if it went careening off the back.

Did you know Elko had a museum, an antique log cabin and a park? Yeah, neither did we, and despite my kids willingness to make the most of the situation, I kind of wish I had never found out. My two youngest actually deemed the McDonald’s Playland in Elko as the best they had ever seen. But you know what they always say, “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.” Or was that “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure?” Regardless, “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” or at the very least it gives us fodder for a column.

Newsmessenger - Getting Every Penny Out of the Family Vacation

2010-08-29T09:32:00.001-07:00

To someone walking by, the scene was pretty pathetic.

I was sitting by myself near Tomorrow Land in Disneyland. My family had moved on to ride Nemo or maybe the cars at Autotopia.

But there I was determined to get every penny’s worth out of the $72 I had just spent at Pizza Port. That got me five slices of pizza, some breadsticks, two large lemonades and a couple of side salads. The kids had begged for the food. I was trying to feed them popcorn and churros in hopes of heading somewhere cheap after the park closed but they were complaining like I’d just asked them to take one more picture in front of Tinkerbell’s Castle.

Just a few minutes earlier, everything was OK. We were on day two of our vacation. I had calculated the cost of hotels, park entrance and even a couple of souvenirs.

The part that I forgot was the fact that my kids like to eat. You feed them in the morning and they’re hungry again at lunch and then again at dinner! And from the looks of day one, they were going to continue this pattern the entire vacation!

So here we all were eating our overpriced, undercooked pizza. At least they were all eating. I had just shared with them that, for $72, we could have purchased 14 large pizzas at NY Pizza off Joiner. I felt like at the very least the kids were learning some math.

I tried a bit of history, mixed with comedy, too. I shared with them a time 20 years ago when I went to a movie theater with my wife (yes kids, they had movie theaters back then) and when presented with a price of $9 for two drinks and a large popcorn, I asked, “Do you offer financing!”

Little did I know that 20 years later, the popcorn alone would run me $9. That joke had killed at the theater back in the ‘80s; it played to blank stares at the lunch table in the year 2010.

I never thought I’d start sounding like a grandfather at the tender young age of 40! But I can’t lie. All of a sudden, I felt an urge to yell at some kids to get off the lawn! And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that dark socks were starting to look more and more enticing with a pair of shorts.

But there was definitely something wrong with me sitting at this table at the happiest place on Earth. I was at my most primitive form. I’m sure I was hunched over the food, growling at passers by. I felt like I wouldn’t truly be happy unless I got my money’s worth!

So I sat there and ate pizza slice after pizza slice, salad after salad. And when all that was said and done, I even tipped back a couple of packs of Parmesan cheese just so I could feel like I got the better of them! I even chewed the ice until my teeth hurt. Mickey Mouse, I’m not your pawn!

Same scene a day later, only this time we were at California Adventure, and the lesson for the day was patience.

Not the kind of patience where you wait 45 minutes to get on the Tower of Terror only to be told it was malfunctioning right when you get to the front of the line, which did happen, and yes, I was that guy who said, “Come on, just let me on! I’ll take my chances!”

No, on this day, I learned many, many valuable lessons on patience. At one point, my wife and I decided to divide and conquer.

She found a table near a restaurant she had set her eye on. My kids volunteered to wait at the table, but, wanting to make the most of my time with my kids, I grabbed my youngest son and invited him to come wait with me in the corndog line! The line was incredibly long. We waited for half an hour and finally, finally were within earshot of the order window. We could hear the sound of arteries clogging with every snap and pop of the deep fat fryer.

“Dad, I have to go potty!”

“No, no, son, you don’t.”

But when I turned and looked at him, it was obvious that he had to go.

He was dancing, he had that look and he also had what appeared to be a death grip on himself, and I knew that if he let go, he’d, well, let go!

I looked at the line, the kind woman behind me. She just shook her head, there wasn’t going to be any saving of spots. And I had already learned my lesson … twice!

Two times we were caught waiting to get off a ride and, well, when the boy has to go, the boy has to go!

To the Peterson’s and their entire family reunion group, my apologies, our water bottle didn’t actually leak onto the seat earlier that day.

We left our spot in line, and an hour or so later, we got the corndogs and made our way back to the table, only to find out the kids had filled up on my wife’s dinner.

Three corndogs later, I had my justice, and half a dozen ketchup and mustard shooters after that, I had gained my victory!

2010 Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run Race Report! (In just under 15,000 words!)

2010-08-02T16:26:00.001-07:00

Tony's note - I'm hip to the whole social networking scene...I think. Instead of trying to paste all my Western States pictures into this report (which is a real pain with blogger) I've posted them all on my Facebook page. I believe you can click here and just go to my photos. If we need to be friends, just add me and I'll approve.

4 years ago, 2007 to be exact, I was encouraged to work the mile 78 aid station at the Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run by a good friend of mine, Jerry Medlar. I had heard of Western States, but I had no desire to run it. Running 100 miles was crazy! After all, I was an accomplished marathon runner! I had qualified for the Boston Marathon, I could run 26 miles! A couple of days before that Western States (affectionately referred to from this point as WS) I basically backed out of going. I didn’t want to take an entire Saturday from my family. But, I had traded several emails with the aid station captain, Chuck Godtfredson, and I felt that I had made a commitment. Thank goodness for being raised to honor a commitment (thanks Mom and Dad!).

Fast forward 4 years to the 2010 WS, and my pacer, Jeffery Johnston, and I were running into the mile 78 aid station together, pacer and runner. I had met Jeffery at the mile 78 aid station that day back in 2007. We instantly became the best of friends, running buddies, and he got me quickly into the ultra marathon scene. I remembered working the aid station and seeing headlights from the runners bobbing at least half a mile away and yelling, “Runner!” And there I was, it was MY headlamp bobbing, somebody was at the aid station yelling, “Runner!” for me.

The experience was surreal. Even better, I remembered working the aid station and seeing people come in looking all sorts of dead, real zombies. The first runner through that year was Hal Koerner, he would go on to win that year and the next year that the race was held (one year hiatus due to fires); he looked like he had just run a 5k, by the time I left that evening, around midnight, zombie after zombie after zombie came through. Here I was coming through the aid station feeling fantastic, no Hal Koerner, but definitely not looking for brains! That’s what zombies are looking for, for those of you not up on zombie culture. But one can’t start a race report at mile 78, right? (Queue dream sequence-like music). It had actually started much earlier in the day…much, much earlier…and, as I’ve mentioned ad naseum, I write these race reports as a journal entry, so I try to put in every detail I can remember. I’ve gone back and read older race reports on occasion and I don’t remember half the things I wrote (insert “now you’re over 40 joke here), so if you wonder why I went into so much detail about seeing a grasshopper at mile 45 (which I didn’t, just an example) it’s because I remembered it, that’s about it. Now, sit back, relax, and know that this race report is a mere 13,000 words, over 7,000 words shorter than my first 100 mile race report. That’s what I get for finishing it 4 weeks after the race was run.

Week Leading Up to the Race

I felt great! Four weeks prior to the race I ran 45 miles on Saturday, the Saturday of the official WS Memorial Day training weekend. I had some issues with hydration on that Saturday run. My legs felt great, my spirits were good, I ran with a good group of people, my fellow Lincoln-ite Chris Perillo, Amy Schmich, and Stuart the pilot (this guy is 23 and an airline pilot, talk about having your act together!). Chris and Amy had a stretch or two that day that, in Chris’ words, had him feeling “sideways.” So coming off of that run, I felt good, but even by the time I got home, after drinking 3 or 4 bottles of water, and a chocolate milk, I was still down 7 lbs. During my only other 100 mile race, 2008’s Rio Del Lago, I struggled with hydration and weight most of the day, at one point hitting the scales at 9 pounds down. WS had a much more strict medical policy and medical staff. If you got down too low, they’d pull you off the course.

The following week I ran 20 miles with my coach, Lon Freeman. We had gone and watched our wives tear up the Tri-For-Fun triathlon earlier that morning and didn’t hit the trail until 2 PM. I’m the one that got a bit sideways on that run, sweating like a pig (why do pigs get such a bad wrap with sweating, I never see them sweat!), I got a tad bit dizzy around 15 or 16 miles into the run and, by the time I got home, after drinking everything that I could find, I was down 5 pounds. I was seriously worried about my weight.

After the run with Lon, I shut things down. The next day I headed out with the family unit for 8 days of Disneyland, SeaWorld, San Diego Wild Animal Park, Universal Studios and the beach. I didn’t run a step, but walked plenty. Wendy, ever prepared, had us carrying this 50 lb backpack (OK, maybe not that heavy) all around the parks. I told her that I was too much of a gentleman to let her carry the backpack so I lugged it around. It was also the first trip to the parks without needing a stroller. We’ve been going darned near yearly and have always had somebody in a stroller (for many of the years we had the two-kid stroller, ample storage space!). So kids would get tired on this trip, tired equals cranky, we got a hotel within walking distance (a little over a mile) so I would typically end up walking back to the hotel at the end of the day with the backpack and a kid on my shoulders. After two days, my legs were sore! Thankfully after day 3 or 4 the soreness was gone. I also got more sleep than I would normally at home. We slept in every morning and went to bed at a decent hour (exhausted) at night. This was primarily because of my cheapness. We don’t get adjoining rooms, we cram all 6 of us in a room with two queens and a fold out couch.

So my advice for a taper? Go on a vacation! Wendy and I ran together a couple of times the week before the race and again the week of the race, nothing more than a few miles at a very easy pace. So I took my coach Lon’s advice and truly tapered. He warned me not to get swept up with the mileage junkies who were still running long in the week or even days leading up to the race.

So heading up to Squaw Valley on Friday, I was exactly where I wanted to be, feeling like a “wind up toy” ready to finally run!

Squaw Valley (Friday night)

I checked in for the race around noon on Friday. The schwag bag was INCREDIBLE! We were given a sweet Mountain Hardware backpack, a Western States jacket and shirt, Moeben “Western States” arm warmers, and a bunch of other things. I hit the scale at 160 lbs, I was extremely happy with my weight. I had hoped to weigh in a bit light, so when I dropped lbs on the course it wouldn’t be as dramatic. With the taper I was worried (and my home scale said) because I was around 163. I was starting to hydrate a lot the couple of days leading up to the race so I really thought I’d hit the scales at Squaw at 165 or 166. They also took our blood pressure and resting heart rate. The BP was 134/86, the HR was 64. I don’t have anything to compare those to, but the nurse said they were both nice and low compared to many of the other athletes. I quickly met up with buddy Chris Perillo who showed me that his BP was something like 180/120, and his heart rate was about 20 beats a minute faster than mine, so I guess I was pretty calm. Chris would admit in his own race report that he was a nervous wreck before the race, so I’m sure his numbers were a result of that nervousness.

I started seeing a lot of people I knew, which was fun. I got my picture taken for the web site, a bit of an odd experience right before me. The guy getting his picture taken asked the photographer to hold on a minute and he took his shirt off, put a pink one on and then a pink tutu and held up a magic wand. He ran the entire race that way (and had a darned good time I must say!). I posted a picture of him on my Facebook page.

We made our way (we being my wife and me) outside and went to check Wendy in as my pacer for the last 7 miles of the race. We had already had a couple of people semi-shoo us away telling us certain lines were for the runners, I had to tell them I was running the race. We were starting to laugh about that and we came up to “pacer central” where we were again first met with “oh, this is for the runners and their pacers.” I said, “I’m a runner,” and I showed my wristband and then the lady helping said, “Is your pacer here, too?” I looked right beside me and said, “Right here.” We laughed again and realized that neither one of us was wearing a race shirt! We looked like just a couple of tourists; everyone else seemed to be dressed in race shirts and race jackets.

We grabbed lunch at Subway, tried to check into our hotel (The Inn at Truckee, check in time was at 3 PM, no exceptions!) and then headed back for the pre-race briefing. I was told by someone, I won’t mention his name, that the pre-race briefing was 55 minutes of fluff and 5 minutes of race direction. For the most part he/she was right, but it was fun for me just to be around that many runners, crew, pacers, all gearing up for the big race! It actually started sprinkling right before Greg Soderlund, the race director, started speaking, but the rain quickly disappeared.

After a couple of recognitions, and friends of the trail awards, the elite women and elite men were called up to the front. It was fun to see these folks up close (I know, it sounds a bit weird). I’m not a big guy, but for the most part what struck me most about the elites was their slight stature, which makes sense with how much these guys run! When I first got into ultra running it was fun to say that ultra folks come in all shapes and sizes, and they do, but the elites, well, they’re still folks with very little body fat. Let me briefly fast forward to later that evening when I was trying on some gear in front of my wife. I have started wearing compression shorts to help with chaffing on these longer runs. Compression shorts plus love handles equals a VERY, VERY unpleasant look. I’m seriously scarred and after the week-long eat-everything-in-sight bender that I’m on, I’m going to finally lose those love handles! Just like driving the coast and seeing the houses motivates me to work harder for some reason, seeing me standing in front of a mirror with compression shorts on motivates me to put down the bowl on that 2^nd (and 3^rd) helping of my nightly ice cream.

My coach Lon was called up with the elites. I was wondering what was going through his head. He is clearly an elite. Just a couple of years ago he held the Miwok course record, he placed 3^rd at AR50 to get into WS at one point and he was 3^rd or 4^th that year heading into mile 85 before having to drop, he took 2^nd at Mountain Masochist late last year to get into this year’s States, but he had suffered a pretty bad injury that had him not even running for over a month. Lon’s goal was truly just to finish, and he was up on stage with all the favorites.

Wendy and I ate dinner at Zano’s Family Italian restaurant in Truckee. I had pizza, quickly becoming a pre-race favorite for me. The pizza was amazing, the service was horrible! The lady helping us walked away from us a couple of times because she didn’t want to wait on us to order. My wife is the one who takes 15 minutes to decide what she wants at a Taco Bell, forget about a new restaurant. And the best part is that after memorizing a menu she’ll always just decide to get the salad. The waitress at one point tried talking me out of some breadsticks, then brought them half an hour later when we were ready to leave, but the food was good and I was there with my wife.

We were back at the hotel by 6:30 PM. Quick hotel note, earlier, when we checked in, we were behind Karsten Solheim, and he was sporting a WS jacket that said something to the effect of age group record holder for 70 and over. YES, 70 YEARS OLD and OLDER. He was there with his wife, we talked to him a bit, he was so incredibly nice and I told him that he was an inspiration and I wanted to be him when I grew up. His wife said, “Everybody doing this is an inspiration.” Side note, Karsten’s shoes were OLD SCHOOL. I didn’t recognize the brand, but they had a lot of miles on them, and they had duct tape on the toes. I was relating the story to Derek Semanski early the next morning and he called out the tape on the shoes before I even mentioned them. Apparently that’s just how Karsten rolls. Unfortunately Karsten would drop the next day at the race, I believe he told me that he had finished States 14 times? Truly amazing.

We watched some bad TV, a couple of Judge Judy’s, it was actually pretty fun, then some Seinfeld and drifted to sleep watching, well, I don’t remember, I fell asleep! I had laid out all of my gear earlier and I truly felt calm, confident, it was a great feeling the night before the biggest race of my life. I set the alarm for 3 AM, and woke up at 2:30 AM on my own, but I slept well from roughly 9 PM to 2:30.

Wendy and I got up and I started trying to get the morning routine going a bit early, if you know what I mean? And I was successful, over and over again, TMI, I know (that’d be too much information for those not hip to texting lingo) but again, it was a wonderful sign. I even had to come back to the room once we were packed up! There was something odd that helped keep the morning light, too. I came out of the bathroom at one point and Wendy had an infomercial on. It’s one for some diet called the Skinny Switch. A lady that goes to our church has lost a bunch of weight from that diet and she was flown down to LA to be in the infomercial, so we were watching, and watching and there she was! That kept the morning fun, which I was grateful for. Thanks Carrie!

The Start

Hectic, congested, exciting. We easily found parking, and Wendy and I made our way inside to pickup my bib and timing chip. I was starting to get a little bit antsy because yes, I needed to make magic one more time! We headed toward the bathrooms and I was met with a LOOOONG line. I ran out and said to Wendy, “there’s a line, I have to go, what do I do!?” To which she calmly said, “Go get in line.” Ah, nice to have a voice of reason with me. The line moved relatively easy and the mood was light (gotta be a joke in there somewhere). The second man to ever run the course, Cowman Moo Ha, came in and got in the back of the line. He said loudly, “anybody want to hear a Cowman story?” A couple of us managed a rather weak, “yeah!” He then went on to say that a couple of times he waits to go to the bathroom until after the starting gun goes off because the lines are much shorter.

As I was making my way out, with less than 10 minutes before show time, two time defending champ Hal Koerner was making his way into the John. I figured these guys had their own private potty!

I made my way to the start and Wendy took a couple of pictures. I found Chris, Amy, Derek, Matt Keyes and Ryan Rivera, just a great group of people, and we tried to keep the mood light with a couple of minutes left before the start. I kissed my wife goodbye, race founder Gordy Ainsleigh said a couple of words I can’t remember, but they had to do with being a part of history, I loved hearing that, and we all counted down from 10 (with the group getting ahead of the countdown by the time we were at 4, I love when that happens) and we were off! There were so many people lining the first half mile of the climb, cheering, it was just a wonderful feeling. The first four miles were ALL up hill, to the Escarpment, and somewhere over 8300 feet. My emotions were high, though, and much like the feeling of running my first 100 miler just a couple of years earlier, I was just happy to finally be on the course. All of the training, all of the planning, who was going to be where at what time, what to do with the kids, all of that was decided. It was time to simply run. Chris mentioned his breath being a bit labored, possibly because of the altitude and I was right there with him.

A mile or so up the hill I saw some names on the back of a t-shirt, a t-shirt for “Andrew’s Army.” One of the names was Ty Boatman. Ty is a friend of ours, well, more like his parents are but Ty is a great kid from my interactions with him. Ty was diagnosed with cancer over a year ago and our church rallied around him, our kids made art projects for him, he was in our family prayers for over a year, we all shaved our heads for Ty (well, I let mine grow a week and then shaved it as per usual). I came up to the runner and asked about his friendship with Ty. His name was Andrew Sewell, he was 18 years old running WS! Andrew had just received his mission call to serve in Idaho, his dad had run WS a few times, and Andrew had been diagnosed with, and beat cancer, when he was 12. Just a neat guy. We chatted for the next couple of miles, and I’d run with him again later in the day. Unfortunately Andrew would drop somewhere near the river at mile 78. He’ll be back though in a couple of years and I’m sure he’ll buckle at that point (finishers get a buckle, that’s right, you run 100 miles for a buckle, I know, probably a bit odd to some).

We hit the first aid station at around 2.5 miles, pretty early, and we were told there wasn’t another until mile 13. The course had been changed in the first 24 miles due to all of the snow. We were running a rare “snow route” but as someone who had only seen the course from mile 38 to 100, it was all new to me. I topped off my bottles, I didn’t care if we had only been 500 feet I was going to stay hydrated.

We hit the top ofthe Escarpment and Chris and I made the comment that we heard something akin to a large meat grinder, not a good sign! But soon we saw that there was a guy banging a huge gong, that was fun, and then the fun stopped. Snow, everywhere there was snow. It was hard to find the trail; you were basically just following others who were following those in front of them. There was so much snow and it was slippery. I fell 3 times, my first 3 falls of my entire ultra career and they all happened in the span of 4 or 5 miles. When there wasn’t snow, there was a ton of run off on the trail, mud, water, COLD water and snow. Some people were literally sliding down the trail on their bottoms on purpose (and it kind of worked). We were all working the snow pretty conservatively and then at one point somebody had just had enough and he sped around our group and just took off! I said, “It kind of reminds me when a car goes speeding past you and you just wish a cop was waiting for him and justice was served.” And just about that time the guy slid and fell hard. Justice!

I slowly lost Chris as he was a bit more adventurous on the snow. I was still near Amy, but then I noticed when the snow broke for a bit she disappeared for what I’m assuming was a pee break (sorry Amy!). Andrew and I ran together for a bit and then I separated from him and I was just running with a line of people. One of my falls was a decent one, I did a bit of a ballet move and my right foot slid under my own bum. I turned my ankle and that hurt for a couple of miles, but I knew it wasn’t anything major. For a second or two I worried about it, but it didn’t bother me at all the rest of the day or after the race.

Around mile 8 Gordy Ainsleigh himself came tearing past me on a particularly muddy downhill section. I then caught him on the uphill and I felt like I couldn’t just pass him right back, the founder, the guy who has run this thing 30 something times, the guy who definitely knew what he was doing more than I did! So I stuck back behind him for a bit. We finally made our way onto the fire road, the new re-route and I was ecstatic to be out of the snow, for how long, I didn’t know, but I’d take it for now.

Apparently I was literally full of “magic” and I had to find a spot on the trail. I was running well, but a man has to do what a man has to do. When I re-emerged I caught up with Andrew again and we ran into the first aid station, around mile 14 together (the Talbot Creek aid station). The guy in the pink tutu was there, too, and I guess I might have given him a funny look. One of the aid station ladies said, “You with him?” And I said a bit too forcefully, “NO, no, I’m not with him.”

I left the aid station and found a groove on the fire road. I’m supposed to say that I prefer the single track trails to any other part of the race course, but I can’t lie, I don’t mind fire road at all, and the new snow route had us running almost 10 miles on the fire road. I noticed that the miles were passing quickly, I chatted up most of the people that either I ran by, or that ran by me. The Garmin showed me running just under 9 minute miles, way too fast for later in the day, but feeling good, on fire road, I was pretty happy with the pace. I chatted up Karyn Hoffman for a bit, she had run the course a number of times, and was extremely positive, and supportive and she gave me a nice compliment that I always looked like I was having fun. I appreciated that, it stuck with me, and yes, I was having fun.

Poppy Trailhead (19.6 Miles)

I’m trying to go off of memory here, but I believe the next aid station was about 19 miles in, and it had something to do with a Poppy, either Poppy Hills, Poppy Trails, this was the site of my first drop bag. I only had a couple of drop bags along the route at places where I wouldn’t be seeing my crew for a while. Darren was planning on meeting me at Robinson’s Flat, mile 30, so I just threw some gels, a Glide wipe and a small tube of sunscreen in a Target bag, very high tech. I refilled with gels, applied sunscreen (didn’t want another Miwok sunburn nightmare) and I was off on the climb to Duncan Canyon.

On the way to Duncan, I encountered the first bit of heat of the day. It was still early, but we ran through an exposed area of newly created trail. Not the best of trail conditions, but apparently new trail needed to be forged in order to get around the snow. It was here that I believe I made the first of a few tactical errors that cost me my chance at a sliver buckle (sub 24 hour finish).

THE SILVER BUCKLE

Now, let me take a brief detour here to explain my thoughts on “going for silver” as they say. Finish the race and you get a buckle, but what color buckle? Under 30 hours (the cut off for the race) you get a Bronze buckle, finish under 24 hours and you get a Silver buckle. So many folks wanted to simply “Buckle” while others were “going for Silver.” In complete honesty, I had little to no aspirations of running a sub 24 hour WS. I know that might not sound the most optimistic coming from me, an optimist, but I was going to be quite content with a finish anywhere from 26 to 28 hours. I really did have the “let’s just finish” goal. True, I had run a 12 hour 11 minute Miwok 100k a few weeks earlier, which, some say, put me in the running for a sub-24 finish, but I was also a tiny bit in my head still feeling like I hadn’t trained enough (nowhere near what some folks had done that were hoping to break 24), and my last training run with Lon, I kind of bonked at only 20 miles! So here’s the bottom line for me, I wasn’t shooting for sub-24, so I went into the race telling myself that while I wanted to push it as much as I could, I didn’t want to get caught up in somebody else’s pace, or wear myself out too early. So on the climb to the Duncan Canyon aid station I found myself feeling fantastic, BUT behind a line of 30 runners. I love the climbs, and we were going slow, too slow, but I felt like I shouldn’t start asking to get by people at mile 20 something in a 100 mile race. I didn’t want to be the guy that they all passed in a couple of miles. So I took my place in line and went a bit slow for some 2 or 3 miles up to Duncan Canyon.

At one point Amy Palermo Winters came up behind me on the climb. She’s an amputee running Western States. I had the chance to run with her off and on the first 40 or 50 miles of the race. She has an amazing attitude, as I’m sure one could guess, despite what appeared to be a lot of trouble with her prosthetic out on the course. At one point I asked her if it was easier to go up hill or down hill and she replied, “Neither, this this was built for the flats.” She would pass me and then I’d catch her when she’d be adjusting her prosthetic. Well, at this point, she’s right behind me, and she says to me, “Don’t fart, I’m even with your butt!” I told her I’d do my best, and we continued up the climb. "Father's Note" here, we don't say fart (we say toot or fluff) and we don't say butt (we say bum) so that was hard to even type!

Duncan Canyon (23.8 Miles)

I came into the Duncan Canyon aid station and got an immediate boost from seeing my friend Cody. Cody has run with me off and on over the past couple of years. I helped train Cody for his first half marathon and I know, just know, he’d be a great trail runner. I had invited him to the race just hoping he’d get the bug, but I told him I didn’t expect him to come. He never got back to me, so I assumed he wasn’t going to be there. He said to me, “I could hardly sleep last night looking at the map and the aid stations and trying to figure out where you’d be!” That seriously meant a lot to me. I was also glad Cody was there because I had started the day with a pair of Moeben arm warmers and I had them pushed down at this point, thinking I wouldn’t be able to drop them off until Robinson’s. I gave Cody the arm warmers and moved into the aid station.

QUEST FOR THE BUCKLE PROBLEM # 2 The aid stations. They were SO incredibly well run, the volunteers so wonderful. At several of the aid stations, someone would ask you your number a few hundred yards before the aid station, apparently they’d call you in to the aid station via walky talky and then when you got there everybody is cheering you by name (your name was also on your race number)! It was amazing! So I can’t lie, again, feeling like I was in no hurry for a sliver buckle in the grand scheme of things, I spent way too much time in the aid stations, and Duncan Canyon was truly the first that I killed some serious time. I talked to Cody, interacted with volunteers, had a lady spray me down with mist for far too long, and finally left on my way to Robinson’s Flat.

Duncan Canyon to Robinson’s Flat (Mile 30)

The next 6 miles to Robinson’s were wonderful, I was on a high from the DC aid station, the next couple of miles went quickly. At some point we crossed a river, probably a stream in other years, but this time we had a rope that helped us across. I could be mixing up parts of the course at this point, but I think there was another smaller stream crossing, smaller in width, but it was fairly deep. I was crossing very carefully, at the Western States training run in May I fell on a river crossing at the bottom of Volcano Canyon and cut up a couple of fingers. I ran with them bleeding for several miles and it put the fear of “clumsy” in me. But, sure enough, I took a wrong step and fell to my left, barely kept myself up and, according to a runner who watched the whole thing happen, I almost went down the river! No cut fingers, just a tiny injury to my pride as several people were around and tried to help me. 30 miles and change and I had fallen 3 times on the snow and once in a river.

I came into Robinson’s Flat knowing that I would see Darren and his daughter Lanae, definitely a boost. We hit some snow a mile or so from the aid station (after thinking I was done with snow for the day!) and the aid station itself was covered in snow…and people. There were a lot of people there and again, runners were rock stars. I changed my shoes, ate gels, swapped out salt pills and told Darren that I was feeling great. I learned a couple of stories after the race from Darren that made this an even better stop in hindsight. Darren had my orthotics on the dashboard of my Jeep while driving to the parking area for Robinson’s. He had the windows down, enjoying the morning. A sharp turn sent the orthotics out the window. Darren had to backtrack and he found them on the road. I had to laugh just thinking about if he would have had to tell me that the orthotics for my shoes were lost, or run over. I believe he also said he forgot my shoes and had to go back via shuttle to get them and made it back to the aid station with only a few minutes to spare.

Leaving Robinson’s you run on some snow for a good mile or so. I was tired of snow; it was sunny now, so it just seemed bright outside. It was at this point that I felt like I was running on my own for a bit, too. Few enough people for a half mile or so that I started my “Am I lost” panic. But then I caught sight of a runner and picked it up to catch him. I finally made my way to some areas of switchbacks, on a downhill, open switchbacks and I started seeing, and catching more people. I remember specifically thinking that this had the makings of a special day. I had over a 50k distance on my legs, I was approaching the part of the course that I knew and I was feeling great. I came into the next aid station; Miller’s Defeat and, for the first time all day, managed to get out of it in less than 10 minutes. Darren had said that he’d try to get to any other aid stations that he could, so I was running with the thought that I might see some folks at the next aid station, Dusty Corners.

Dusty Corners (Mile 38)

The run to Dusty Corners went quickly. With a mile or two before the aid station I started craving chocolate milk. In all the ultras I’ve run, I’ve never really experienced a hard core craving, but I was having one now. I wanted chocolate milk bad and I was getting bummed that I didn’t think I’d have any for a while. But then as I came into Dusty Corners I saw Cody’s smiling face! I practically screamed at him, “I want chocolate milk! Tell Darren I want chocolate milk at Michigan Bluff!” He was on it.

I downed my customary couple of gels, grabbed a salt tab and continued to try and eat something solid. Bananas were working for me, so I grabbed a couple of banana slices, and I tried a PB&J square. I’ve had some success with these at a couple of races, but at Miwok and now here they just took all the moisture out of my mouth. I dunked a sponge on my head, dunked my bandana in cold water and headed out toward Last Chance.

Lainie from Lincoln

At the lottery, I believe I was the first of the Lincoln runners to be drawn. I was ecstatic. Chris was drawn pretty shortly thereafter and I thought we were the only Lincoln runners picked. Chris and I checked the list of entrants a couple of days later and saw Lainie Callahan-Mattoon on the list, also from Lincoln. We checked her stats on Ultrasignup.com and saw that she WINS races, she was fast! We figured we’d see her at a race, training run, or just out on the streets, but she managed to avoid us both all winter and spring. Now, earlier in the day I had jockeyed position with a lady that I deemed a “firecracker” from the start. She had short hair, she was chatting people up, looked like she was in great shape, just looked like a runner, a fast runner. She passed me and I figured I’d never see her again, she made an impression, the quick impression simply of “look at that girl, she’s a runner.” Over the course of a long race you see so many people, but a couple will stick out for whatever reason (like a pink tutu!), this girl stood out. Leaving Dusty Corners I came quickly upon a line of runners, one of which was Lainie (I didn’t know her name at this time). We were on single track and I was still playing the “conservative card” mentally. Lainie would come up to a runner, or group or runners and ask loudly, “How we doin’?” To which the person (or people) would say, “You want through?” And she’d run through.

I was right behind her the first time she used this approach and the guy she passed just said, “anybody else?” So I scooted past him, too. I fell behind Lainie and she asked me if I wanted through. I told her I just wanted to draft off her for a while and then we proceeded to pass a dozen or more people that way. The single track eventually turned into fire road and we started talking, we both had four kids, she tells me her name is Lainie and I don’t think for a second that she’s “THE Lainie from Lincoln!” We get into Last Chance together and at that point I lose her (not in the cool, “I lost her because I’m so fast” way but as in I couldn’t see her anymore). I run from Last Chance with Ryan Martin, another 40 year old who would go on to finish in 27:53, well done Ryan! We ran the next mile or two together and then we started the descent, 2 miles down to the Swinging Bridge, right before the climb up Devil’s Thumb.

At Dusty Corners I was in 255^th place according to the web. I finished at 125^th place. I was passed twice after Dusty Corners, once on the climb to Green Gate by a guy who lost his pacer and then with a couple of miles to go by Ray Hernandez, running 8 minute miles uphill in an apparent attempt to make up lost time and break 24 hours. I mention this only because at the time I didn’t think much of it, but I was constantly coming upon people, and now I was using the “Lainie technique, ““How we doing?” And then scooting by.

I’ve never fancied myself much of a downhill runner, but thanks to a lot of downhill running during my training, and running with the likes of Jeffery and Chris during our Canyon training runs (both very fast downhill) I felt like I was adequate. On the 2 mile stretch down to the Swinging Bridge I let it fly, and I passed 4 or 5 people, I was almost to the half way point of the race and I oddly felt like I was picking up steam. I would have passed a 6^th person but there was a lady (who I’d go on to pass on Devil’s Thumb) that was using a very effective “dust screen” tactic to keep me at bay. Every time I’d get even remotely close I swear she’d start shuffling her feet kicking up dust like crazy and I’d back off just a bit.

Devil’s Thumb!

I wish I knew the specifics on this climb. For those who have never run an ultra, or even for many who have, it’s hard to even imagine what this climb is like. Before I started running ultras, I thought “Heartbreak Hill” at Boston was a killer, or Veyo at the St. George Marathon just went on and on. Both of these are “slight uphills” compared to the many hills one runs across in ultra marathons. Thankfully I had trained on Devil’s Thumb several times during the spring. I believe it’s something like 1.5 or 1.8 miles, climbs something like 1800 feet, has 36 or 47 switchbacks depending on who you ask. Bottom line, though, it’s steep and it seems to go on forever. The first couple of times I climbed it I thought to myself that nobody probably runs any portion of “the Thumb.”

By the time I had climbed it a couple of more times, and mainly because of some friendly competition between Jeffery, Chris and myself going up the Thumb one early Saturday morning, I ran bits and pieces of it…and I kind of liked it! Chris and I power walked/ran it in just under 35 minutes one particular training run, and we felt pretty darned good about it. We said that on race day it’d be nice to try and tackle it in 45 mins or so, but more importantly, we just wanted to feel OK while climbing it. There were plenty of tales of the Thumb taking it out of runners on race day, zombies barely moving forward.

When I got to the start of Devil’s Thumb, aka the “Swinging Bridge” I had heard that folks in previous years had taken 5 minutes to walk down to the river and dunk themselves before the climb. I really didn’t have any plans on doing this, but as I got to the bottom, I decided that it wouldn’t hurt anything, and I saw two or three other runners already down in the river when I got to the bottom. So I climbed down, set my bottles and watch to the side and fully submersed myself in the cold water. It felt wonderful, it really did. I wasn’t overly hot to begin with, but the cool water instantly doused the fire in the quads from the 2 miles of straight downhill from Last Chance (over 21,000 feet of downhill in this race, compared to 18,000 feet of uphill, definitely a quad-buster).

As I started the climb, there was a runner sitting in a small waterfall to the right, she looked like she was dead. I asked if she was OK and she just managed a nod. I quickly caught a couple of runners and for a brief second I thought about hanging behind them, but they too were wiped, so I made my way around them and started power hiking. By the time the climb was done, I would go on to pass at least 8 or 9 runners, a couple of them clearly out of steam. One in particular was just standing there looking down at his feet. I asked him if he was OK and, to his credit, he just said, “No.” I asked if he wanted salt, a gel, water, a piggy-back ride (I thought that was pretty funny, he didn’t), he just replied, “I want to be done.” It was at times like these that I did a self check and realized that I truly was having a good day.

Before I knew it I was to the top of Devil’s Thumb and at the aid station. One volunteer made my day by saying to me, “have you been running the race today?” At first I didn’t get what he was saying, but then he said, “you’re the first person to come through here looking so fresh!” Probably his signature line for all runners, but it worked on me! It’s akin to “you’re almost there” and “you’re looking great” when you really aren’t almost there and, well, you don’t look so good. But when you’re in the moment, you buy these phrases hook, line and sinker.

Even better, I was now in very familiar territory. My canyon training had consisted of several Saturday’s of starting at Michigan Bluff and running to the swinging bridge and back, only 19 miles (except on the day that Chris and I got lost and made it 24!) but I knew this trail! The next 5 or 6 miles were VERY runnable, all downhill, then you were at the bottom of El Dorado Canyon, a 2.7 mile climb and you were at Michigan Bluff!

I caught up to Todd Glender from Oregon. I had never met Todd, but he and I hit it off quickly, and we chatted continuously for the next 5 miles down to the bottom of El Dorado. We passed runners on the 4 mile downhill and the time just seemed to fly by. We agreed to hike up to MB together, and went through the aid station together, but we quickly realized that my hiking was a bit quicker and Todd sent me forward. It was funny, I paused for a minute thinking, “I can’t leave Todd after all we’d been through!” We’d been through 4 miles of downhill, Todd was a great guy and all, but this was my race. I guess you could chalk one up to the high emotions of the day.

I had a great hike up El Dorado just knowing that my crew, and possibly my wife and kids, would be at Michigan Bluff. Also, I remembered from the year before what a party-like atmosphere MB was. It was a street full of crews and family cheering on the runners.

I caught back up to Lainie about a mile from the top, she had some friends who actually hiked down the trail to see her and it was fun to hear their excitement about how the day was playing out, they shared who was leading the race, what people looked like up the trail, etc. We continued to pass folks along the way and before I knew it I could see Jeffery and Nathan Oates (Pastor Nathan as I like to call him, he leads Lincoln’s Emmaus Church) waiting for me at the top of the hill leading down to the MB aid station. When they saw me they started yelling my name from far away and it just felt great. I floated into MB truly feeling like this was this was a great, great day.

I had remembered waiting for Jeffery at this exact spot last year and just seeing how wiped out people looked. Occasionally someone would come down the hill all smiles, Jeffery included, and I was so incredibly happy to be one of those people coming down the hill happy. I think the crowd feeds on the “happy runners” enthusiasm so they were going crazy. My wife was at the bottom of the hill, too, and every time I saw her she just looked so excited, so proud, all of these things just pumped me up. When I posted my pictures to my Facebook account, fellow runner Carrie Hyatt commented that in all of my pictures I looked like a kid on Christmas morning. I loved that summary, because that’s truly how I felt every time I saw my crew and family.

Back to the sub-24 theories…OK, the more weeks that pass from me writing this report, I guess they can slowly transition into excuses? I can’t lie, I have my Bronze Buckle and I look at it and I think, “OK, you probably should be Silver! Curse you conservative pace!” Anyway, back to the theory…there was the aforementioned 5 minute break at the bottom of Devil’s Thumb, but there was also Michigan Bluff. What a blast to see everybody there. I just wanted to soak the whole thing in. There’s an “In” aid station and an “Out” aid station, and the walk between them is lined with folks cheering you on. I loved this part, walking that stretch with my crew and family and seeing familiar faces and hearing cheers from ultra friends. Thankfully Jeffery was the voice of reason telling me I really needed to go. Darren, Nathan, Cody, Wendy and my kids were hard to break from, but still had 44 miles to go!

Michigan Bluff to Bath Road (60.6 miles)

Jeffery walked me through the “Out” aid station right into the back of Todd Glender, a welcome sight and he and I decided to run with each other again as long as we could, hopefully to Bath Road, the next aid station. The next mile or two (or three) are all exposed on fire road, maybe even just plain old dirt road, it was wide, and for the first time in the day I thought it was pretty hot. But, it wasn’t 110 degree hot like it had been in previous years; I was guessing low 90’s. I’d hear later that I believe the high was 95? I truly don’t mind the heat, so as quickly as I had thought how hot it was, I don’t remember thinking about it again.

Todd and I caught up to Dr. Marty Hoffman, a very seasoned ultra runner who said he was having a bit of a rough day. Dr. Hoffman is in charge of the hydration studies that you can sign up for during the race. Todd and I had both volunteered for the studies and let Marty know, so we spent the next mile or so talking about how much salt to take, how people get in trouble, it was great to pass the time, and before we knew it, we had caught up to Lainie! So the four of us started the single track descent to the bottom of Volcano Canyon chatting away about how the race was going. We got a bit ahead of Marty, and Lainie, Todd and I climbed the next mile and change up to Bath Road together. I wouldn’t see them after Bath Road, but I was so happy to see that they both went on to finish the race, Lainie at 25:34, and Todd at 26:29, nice!

Jeffery and Pastor Nathan were there at Bath Road, again, a welcome sight. They walked the mile of pavement with me and we chatted about the day, what I needed (change of shoes, change my shirt, swap out my gels and salt pills) and Nathan ran on ahead. Nathan and I run most every Wednesday morning together so it was great to have him there, and he, too, was just full of smiles all day. Jeffery and I took off when we got back to the trail portion heading toward Foresthill School. I had looked forward to Michigan Bluff all day, and then to Foresthill. If MB was a party-like atmosphere, Foresthill was going to be crazy, and it was, people everywhere! I felt like I ran a 7 minute mile into the aid station. My weight was dead on, 160, and again, many familiar faces. I quickly made my way through and to my jeep where my family and crew were waiting for me. Our goal was to be out of the aid station by 8 PM, I believe it was around 7:50 when I got to the car. I was worked on like a NASCAR high-end ride. I sat down and Cody had chocolate milk in my hand, my kids were telling me about their day, Jeffery and Nathan had my shoes off, powder on them, Jeffery had my blister kit open and he was addressing a soft spot on the side of my big toe and Darren was feeding me gels and swapping out all my gear, making sure I had my light ready. It was awesome!

Leaving Foresthill (62 Miles)

I had run 62 miles, 62 supposedly hard miles, yet I felt really good. I had been looking forward to getting to Foresthill for so long, not just for the day, but for months. I knew the course so well from this point, Jeffery was with me, my wife would be at mile 93, I had a river to cross, I was in a good place. I kissed my wife and kids, I wouldn’t see them for a while and Jeffery, Darren and I started heading down the road toward the trail. Darren peeled off and Jeffery and I were running. I know it was adrenaline, but Jeffery and I left there and started to run. I even had to stop and pee right away, which Jeffery called out as a good sign, and it was. My body was behaving very well. We took off when we hit the single track. Jeffery asked me if I wanted him in front of me, the way that we had planned on running, but I wanted to show him how I was running, so I took the lead. My Garmin shows those first two miles at just under a 9 min per mile pace, miles 63 and 64! We were moving and we quickly started picking off runners. Jeffery was keeping track. Before we hit the first aid station we had passed 5 runners and their pacers. Jeffery was saying all the right things, that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep up, that he hadn’t expected to be running this fast, and that he didn’t know we’d be passing so many people so quickly. All of these things played into my ego and made me run even better. If I ever even thought about running slower, all of these things went through my head, and I tried to pick it up.

I don’t quite remember when we turned on the headlamps, or much about the specific aid stations (note to self, write the WHOLE race report sooner next time!). Jeffery was great at getting me in and out of the aid stations. We established a fact pretty early on in our journey together; he wanted 24 hours more than I did! That was a good thing, I’m not complaining, but he saw me coming into to aid stations, Foresthill, looking and feeling good, close to 24 hour pace. I don’t think he truly realized how much time I had wasted, how 24 hadn’t been in my head. In hindsight, I can’t lie; I wish I would have embraced Jeffery’s exuberance early on when we started running together. But I STILL thought I’d run out of gas at some point and I was having such a good day, I didn’t want to be miserable the last 10 miles trying to reach a goal I hadn’t had in mind all day. Again, hind sight is 20/20, I think I’ll drop the “I didn’t think I could but I now should have” talk, if you’ve read to this point, you get my point.

To The River! The Rucky Chucky River! (78 Miles)

I was shocked at how quickly aid stations were coming. In the dark, I also thoroughly enjoyed seeing the headlamps ahead of me and chasing them down. In our training runs on this section, from Foresthill to the River, the flat portion, approximately 2-3 miles before the river, seems to go on forever. You run in single track, but in grass/overgrowth up to your waist in some places. I remember hitting that point, but it just flying by. Before I knew it we were on the really hard road, again, a part that I hadn’t enjoyed much during 3 training runs of this section. But then Jeffery pointed out a light up ahead, and told me that was the aid station, mile 78, go back to the beginning of this report, where it all began. We were approaching the aid station quickly, and Jeffery and I strategized. We would bypass the aid station on the near side of the Rucky Chucky river, I would make a bee line to the scales, and then we’d head immediately to the river, to the boat, and then get aid at the far aid station.

I weighed in right on once again, 160 lbs., I was now taking this for granted. Weight had been an issue in so many races, training runs, but today weight wouldn’t be an issue. I stopped worrying about my weight the last 50 miles. We headed immediately down to the boat, slipped on our life preservers and we were the only two in the boat.

I started singing as loudly as I could, “Yo ho, Yo ho a Pirates life for me!” I was giddy! Jeffery joined me in song and the driver of the boat was amazing. He was pushing hard to get the boat turned around quickly and we were across the river in no time flat. I hopped out and slowed things down just a bit to make sure I didn’t slip on the rocks and just ate up all of the cheers and clapping from those watching the river crossing. I was one of them last year. I made it down to the river from Green Gate to wait for Jeffery and I just sat there for an hour watching and cheering people on. It’s a great place to watch the race; people were so excited to get to that point. Jeffery and I started heading up Green Gate and we were still in good spirits.

Green Gate (mile 80)

We power hiked up Green Gate, and I was passed for the first time, actually the second, but it was by the same guy. This guy had caught me in the aforementioned high grass right before Rucky Chucky. I was shocked at how quickly he came upon me, I was running well, but he said he thought I was somebody else. I think he was hoping to run with a friend because he had dropped his pacer a couple of miles earlier. That’s the pacer’s worst nightmare!

We moved on ahead at that point, but here he was passing me coming into Green Gate. We chatted briefly and he said that he was just giving up on his pacer.

Jeffery and Darren had a pretty cool system worked out, Jeffery would yell “Darren” at the top of his lungs coming into an aid station and Darren had everything ready for us, gels, salt, Glide! I was so worried about chafing! Darren took some infrared pictures, and his daughter Lanae took some pictures with my camera that turned out OK, they’re on my Facebook page.

20 miles to go, still feeling good. Jeffery and I were off, next stop, ALT.

Green Gate to ALT (85.2 Miles)

Leaving Green Gate is a definite shot in the arm, let me clarify, the good kind of shot, a shot of adrenaline, not small pox, or polio, or one of those that hurt for days. I’ve heard more than one runner say that they could easily walk the last 20 miles in order to finish. That probably doesn’t sound like a lot of fun to the non-ultra runner, but for those who have been in the sport for a while, I’d say most have had a race or two where the “Death March” can easily extend to 20 miles or more.

I was still feeling good, but I now had this feeling that I was going to finish, no matter what. I did notice at the Green Gate aid station that a lot of aid station volunteers and other runner’s crew members were looking sleepy. I remember thinking to myself how odd it was to truly think that the night before I only slept a few hours, that I had started running at 5 AM, and now here I was in the wee hours of the morning and I was still moving, awake. This is part of what I love about ultra running, just all that the human body is capable of. I must have said that to myself half a dozen times during the day, isn’t the human body amazing?

I can’t say enough about Jeffery’s support either (especially since it’s now been a month since I ran the race and I’m still writing this race report, so I’m probably repeating myself). My legs were definitely tired, but I was still running. I started kicking rocks, and that was very frustrating. At one point I kicked a couple of rocks within just a few feet of each other and I got about as mad as I get. I said rather loudly, “I’m tired of kicking rocks!”

One count, two count, three count, then came Jeffery’s comment. “Then pick up your feet.” Well said. But from that point, I continued to lead on the flats and ups with Jeffery behind me, and on any bit of downhill, Jeffery would take the lead and literally point out each rock, it worked perfectly. I don’t remember kicking any more rocks the rest of the race (although I’m sure that I did).

We were continuing to pick off runners, seeing headlamps up ahead and going after them. We had a nice rhythm going. Jeffery knew that chasing people down was something that motivated me. We have been running the streets of Lincoln together for a few years now, and if there is ever a runner up ahead, Jeffery has commented that I tend to pick up my pace. So these miles were flying by with the number of runners that we were passing, a lot of them walking.

I would go through periods where I would just feel so good that I’d get chatty. We knew from checking the mileage on my GPS that we were within a mile of the ALT aid station, and I was running, actually running. Jeffery was telling me not to go crazy. He asked me what kind of effort I was giving and I confessed I was going a little hard, I saw 4 headlamps in the distance and I wanted to pass them before we got into the aid station. We passed a runner and his pacer and I saw the next runner and pacer and I picked it up even more. Jeffery said I should slow it down, I was feeling sassy (do I need to put my “man card” in the penalty box for using the word sassy?) and I told him that he couldn’t make me slow down. He said “Yes I can,” to which I replied the ever-witty, “No you can’t.” And then elementary school rules took over and we repeated “Yes I can” and “No you can’t” over and over and over as we came upon the runner and his pacer. I can’t lie, I was doing some of this for show, I wanted this runner to know that I was as fresh as when I first started the race…and then I saw who it was, Chris, my buddy Chris.

My family had been telling me all day that Chris was ahead of me. At one point my wife said he was a good half an hour ahead of me and that he was looking good. I figured Chris was cruising in for a 23 hour finish. Chris was walking with his pacer Curt. Jeffery and I went flying by, and I yelled, “Chris! You’re doing good, man!” But I was worried about him, he looked a bit deflated. Jeffery and I ran into ALT and to my surprise, Chris and Curt were right there behind me. Chris told me later that my passing him was a shot in the arm (the good kind) and that he picked it up to the aid station. You can read all about this part from Chris’ point of view on his blog here.

As much as I love Chris, I didn’t want to catch him, be the wind beneath his wings and then watch him stomp me the last 15 miles, so Jeffery and I got out of there quick. I never saw Chris again, and he went on to finish in 25:50, he’ll be back to get Silver, no doubt about it. You can read the Lincoln Newsmessenger article about us here, he broke bones, he lost 7 out of 10 toenails, now that’s hard core!

Quick food update (here’s that part where writing this in stages several weeks removed is a bad idea, I’ve probably covered some of this). Where bananas were OK earlier, I was done with this. Where I had tried PB&J squares earlier in the day, I wanted to throw up at the thought of them. I had switched to one bottle filled with water, and one filled with Coke, it was a suggestion from Lon Freeman, and Jeffery had actually suggested it on his own, too. The two guys I listen to the most on the same page, I started trying it before the river and it was hitting the spot. I don’t drink much caffeine, so I think that, and the sugar from the Coke (not diet!) was working for me. I had also started drinking soup broth and I was still working under the rules that if anyone told me I needed a gel I had to down one. Jeffery was good at keeping me on the gels. We had stopped taking salt tablets before the river; my stomach had been acting up ever so slightly at one point so Jeffery suggested I stop. That had been working as my stomach was fine.

Brown’s Bar (89.9 Miles, No, that’s not quite 90!)

From ALT we had another 4 or 5 miles to the infamous Brown’s Bar aid station. Rumors were that you would hear the music at this aid station up to 2 miles away, and that it was all decked out in lights, too. When Jeffery and I came through Brown’s Bar last year, it was a few hours later, in the morning light, and the Brown’s Bar folks were partied out. As we came up on the aid station this year it was in full party mode, loud music, and lights lining a bridge I believe? When I met Jeffery a couple of weeks after the race, he filled me in on an exchange that he felt bad about, one that I remembered only briefly, but his story filled in some holes. First, I love the aid station volunteers, I really do. I have nothing negative to say about any of them. But this was funny in hindsight. We came into the aid station; Jeffery still trying to get me in and out (had that for lunch today by the way!) as quickly as possible. We knew what was working, Jeffery had them filling one bottle with water, one with Coke, he told me to take my gels, and he was actually opening them for me. A couple of weeks after the race, Jeffery, knowing I was still working on the report, reminded me via text that I couldn’t open my gels, and that I needed him to. I didn’t have the heart to tell him at that time, but I remember clearly when I asked him to open my gel, it was because my hands were wet from a sponge and I couldn’t get a grip, but from that point on, he’d see me grab a gel and he’d rip it open for me. Good pacer!

Back to the story. I was gelling, and Jeffery told one of the volunteers that I needed chicken broth. The guy said, “try the potato soup, it’s wonderful!” I said, “No thanks, the broth is working for me.” And the guy looked at me and said, “Just try the potato soup.” That sounded terrible to me at almost mile 90 of the race. “No, really, just the broth.” The guy said to me and Jeffery, I’ll get him some potato soup and if he doesn’t like it I’ll get him the broth. Jeffery then got pretty firm, “He doesn’t want the potato soup!” He told me that he felt bad, that he said it pretty sternly. I got my broth and we were on our way.

I’m so Dizzy?

We moved out of the aid station, I had about 4 miles until I’d be seeing my wife, until I was running the part of the course that I had done SO, SO, SO, SO many times before. I was so excited, Jeffery was pointing out rocks on a particularly rocky downhill section that led to Quarry Road, right before the climb up to highway 49. I was feeling, feeling…dizzy? I tried to ignore it, I didn’t want to say anything, but then finally I confessed to Jeffery that I was feeling a bit dizzy. The stretch lasted no more than a mile, just a dozen minutes or less, but, at this point it’s 2 AM and some change, I’ve been running 90 miles, and I got a bit dramatic. I immediately started to worry that my entire day was about to go down the tubes at mile 90! I finally confessed to Jeffery and he reminded me that I hadn’t had any salt tablets in a few hours. I popped a couple and we walked the slight up of Quarry Road. We walked for 5 or so minutes and just as quickly as the dizziness had appeared, it disappeared. We started shuffling up the uphill and we were back on our way.

If you read my pacer report from last year, this is the point where Jeffery went Zombie on me during his race. We had a rough mile before he bounced back to finish extremely strong. There must be something to that climb, a one mile rocky, single track climb up to Highway 49. It was on this climb that I felt horrible when running with Lon just a couple of weeks earlier. Jeffery was trying to push me to get up the hill. He was telling me, “Only 10 minutes until you see your wife, come on, Tony!” I didn’t say anything. He kept at it, “Give me more effort, you’re about to see Dee (her nickname)!” I told him not to “start being a weenie now.” Yes, I was THAT mean and used THAT kind of language! I’m embarrassed to this day. Jeffery teased me about it when we met up a couple of weeks later. We were having a Squeeze with Cheese at the Squeeze Inn (incredible!) and he just said out of the blue, “Do you remember calling me a weenie?” I hadn’t, and I apologize Jeffery :-)

Once we were up the hill I started getting giddy. Wendy told me that they could barely see the runners and then they’d disappear only to appear again on a short downhill to the road crossing. She was there with Darren, and they were looking for me, Wendy said she was so nervous, wondering what kind of shape I’d be in. I came into that aid station around 3:20 AM, so she said she was also nervous that I’d still think I had sub-24 in me and that her duties as pacer would be to push me beyond what she had to give. As we got near, Jeffery did his Darren yell, which Darren heard and shared with my wife. As I turned the corner and started down to the road crossing the aid station goes crazy, what a feeling. I get goose bumps typing it right now. I crossed the road and my wife was waiting there looking so amazingly cute, she had her headlamp on, she’s never run with a headlamp, and she just looked SO excited. I hugged Jeffery and Darren, Jeffery briefed Wendy on my dizzy spot, and how I was doing with food, water, etc. Darren had me take in a couple more gels and Wendy and I were off toward the finish line.

Highway 49 (Mile 93.5) To No Hands Bridge (Mile 96.8)

Wendy and I headed up the climb and she was so excited it was contagious. She just kept telling me how good I looked, how proud she was, she was asking me about the night, and seriously, before I knew it we were up the hill. I knew this part was going to fly by. I wanted to hang onto every minute of the last 7 miles, yet I also wanted to be done. Wendy kept checking in with me asking if I wanted to push for sub-24, I was doing the math with her, I’d have to run 6 minute miles to make it, that wasn’t going to happen, I just wanted to enjoy what was a perfect day.

We made it across the meadow still both talking a million miles an hour about the day, how the kids did, where other runners were, what they looked like ahead of me, and we caught runners and passed them! We headed down the 2 mile stretch to the bridge and I remember feeling that my quads were indeed toast, we were running, I felt like we were running fast, but in looking at the splits after we were barely under 11 minute per mile pace on downhills that Jeffery and I run in the low 6’s without 94 miles on our legs. It hurt, but I didn’t care at that point.

We made it down to the bridge and into the aid station. The No Hands Aid Station was run by Dr. Gary Gade, a runner himself, and an acquaintance. I wasn’t sure if he knew me, but we attend the same church, and I have seen him, even played basketball against him a few years ago (he’s tall, and good!). As a matter of fact, I only learned that he ran the aid station recently. A few months ago I was at one of our church building for a baptism, and Dr. Gade came out into the hallway from the gym. He was playing basketball. I was shocked to see that he was wearing a Western States volunteer shirt. I wanted to go up to him and say, “I’m running that race!” I wish I had at that point because he could have probably given me some great insight as somebody involved with the race for so many years. We came into his aid station and I was again, giddy. Wendy took care of my bottles and I ran over to him and said, “Do you know who I am?” I’m sure it sounded pretty dumb, but at 96 miles in, I was entitled to be dumb. Dr. Gade was sitting in a chair wrapped in a blanket and he said very calmly, “Yes, I know who you are, and you’re having a great run.” That was all I needed to hear, I gushed on that I had been waiting to see him all day, and then Wendy and I were off across the bridge.

It was at this point that I was passed for the 2^nd time over the last 62 miles, by uber ultra runner Ray Sanchez. Ray and his pacer blew by me, it was amazing. I don’t know Ray’s story for the day, but apparently he had some ups and downs, and when he was down, he was down to the point of stopping for a bit, but when he was up, my goodness he was up! Ray finished in 24:10 taking the title that I thought I was going to have a lock on, the closest to 24 hours, only going over (opposite of The Price is Right rules of closest to the price without going over). At one point when I knew I’d be close, sometime during the wee hours of the AM when running with Jeffery, I passed a couple of minutes by thinking, “what if they gave an automatic entry to the person who came closest to 24 hours so they could come try and run it the next year?” Granted, I also spent time thinking about finding a large sack of Mafia money on the side of the trail, how Bikini Bottom in SpongeBob (hey, SpongeBob was in the MS Word dictionary!) has lakes on the bottom of the ocean and I spent A LOT of time wondering what the large letters MF stood for carved into the tree on the way down to the Swinging Bridge.

Wendy and I made our way across the two creek crossings taking in every detail of the night, still chatting away, wanting to be done, but also wanting this experience to keep going. We started the final true climb, some single track switchbacks up to cross a fire road and then up to Robie point, mile 98! We caught a runner, a solo runner, no pacer, and he seemed very much zombified. I tried the old, “How you doing?” Apparently not very well, he didn’t give me much feedback. Wendy and I were on him fast, and he finally said, “You want by?” To which I wanted to say, “Duh?” but instead I said, “If you find a stretch where I can squeeze by.” He basically leaned to the left and I leapt over his leg, he closed back up and Wendy was caught behind him. She, not of the trail running type, said, “Excuse me,” and he gave even less of a lean. Wendy wasn’t sure what to do and finally he yelled at her, “Just go!” If I didn’t want to finish, and I wasn’t still giddy, and I wasn’t such a nice guy I might have stopped right there and called him a weenie, too! A mean weenie!

I took off up the hill in a sprint. It was 100% to impress Wendy. She reported to me after that she worried that right then and there I was going to lose her. I made it about 100 yards and then all of a sudden every pore in my body started to sweat and my heart started beating like crazy, OK, maybe that wasn’t a great idea. We power walked up to Robie and on the way I noticed a tiny bit of, um, well, that darned chafing! The volunteers at Robie yelled down and asked if I needed anything. I asked if they had any Vaseline. They said yes, and I then asked for a volunteer to apply it for me. No takers, I asked Wendy, no dice. Fine! I’ll do it myself! This reminds me of a great story. I was volunteering at the Nimbus aid station at the American River 50 miler this year. I was standing beside Leslie Carboni, who also finished this year’s Western States (29:32), way to go Leslie, and I was holding pitchers of water. Leslie was there to open up bottle so I could pour. A runner came up and handed me her bottles to fill and asked Leslie to apply Vaseline to her armpits! Leslie, without breaking stride, dipped a couple of fingers in and lubed up her pits. Now that’s a volunteer!

To the finish

Wendy and I were now on the pave road, 1.2 miles to go. This is the part where Jeffery and I started getting emotional last year, and I was feeling it right there with my wife. It was just past 5 AM, it was starting to get light, people were the streets cheering. This portion is steep, unfairly steep for those who have run 99 miles, but who cares at this point. We power walked the steep uphill and started running the flat, less than a mile to go.

The plan was for Jeffery to call my friend Staci when he left me at the 49 aid station. Staci would roust my 4 kids out of bed and they’d all be there at the finish. I wanted to see them, wanted them to be a part of it, but I also knew a lot could go wrong with 4 kids at 4 AM in the morning, trying to get them up and ready to go. We turned a corner, for those familiar with the course, we were approaching the white bridge, and there they were, Jeffery and my four kids. They started going nuts, Wendy beside me, Jeffery there, my kids there and here it came, I started getting teary eyed. We all ran together down the street the last 100 yards or so until we hit the stadium. The race finishes with a lap around the Placer High track. We entered the stadium and I heard the announcer say, “Now entering the stadium, Tony Overbay from Lincoln, California. This is Tony’s first Western States…”

I’m crying, my kids and wife are running with me, it was 100 times better than I had even imagined. We made our way around the track and headed toward the finish line. 24 hours 18 minutes. I did it. I finished the “Super Bowl of 100’s” and did it in style, with my wife as my final pacer, one of my best friends taking me 32 miles before that. With an amazing crew of Darren Shutt and his daughter Lanae, the surprise visits from my friend Cody Fugit and Pastor Nathan. My endless emails and questions to my friend / coach Lon Freeman (who also finished the race despite some serious injury issues in training and throughout the day). So much went into the training, trying to fit it around my family’s busy lives with as little impact as possible. Multiple, multiple mornings waking up at 4 AM or even earlier to get my runs in, my wife putting up with so much running talk, all that planning, that cursed planning, all of my friends and family following my progress, both in my races leading up to the big day and in my training, it all came together perfectly. I had now run 2 100’s and both just went so well, despite my relative “inexperience” in the ultra world as compared to some, I think it couldn’t have gone any better…this time. But next time, Silver Buckle, watch out!

My thanks to all those who worked so hard to put on such an amazingly perfect race. I can’t wait to do it again.

Epilogue

I came home and showered and wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t, I was restless. I decided to go to church; our service wasn’t starting until 12:30. I can’t lie, a lot of my church friends had been following the race and I wanted to show up looking NOT like I had just run 100 miles. I got dressed and as we were ready to go, we found an injured baby bird on our driveway. My kids sprang into action. We called animal rescue who directed us to a lady in Loomis who rescues birds. Getting the glory at church I know isn’t humble, I was going to listen to the message, too, I promise, but going to drop off a bird wasn’t exactly my idea of a post-race morning. So I went back inside and managed to fall asleep just fine!

The next day, Monday, I was back on the elliptical just to keep the blood moving. I made it half an hour. Same on Tuesday. I was back to lifting weights and elliptical on Wednesday and Friday and actually ran 6 miles with Wendy on Saturday, my legs felt heavy about 4 miles into that 6 mile run, but I didn’t want to tell Wendy, I was still trying to play “Superman” for her. My legs recovered amazingly well, making the entire experience even better. 4 weeks after the race, this past Saturday, we visited Utah for a work meeting / vacation. The Deseret News Marathon was on Saturday morning. I ran that marathon without a lot of success last year; you can read about it here. I signed up expecting nothing; I just wanted to see how the legs would hold up. I’m going to write about that experience next, but in a nutshell, I told my wife I felt like I ran a marathon without really trying. Perhaps 100 mile shape can translate onto the shorter distances. I cruised in with a 3:24 on what is a pretty hard course with altitude. I felt great the entire race, ran the whole thing and after finishing, wished I had pushed it a bit more.

Next up? Not quite sure, right now I’m thinking the Sierra Nevada Double Marathon, and then I’d like to take a crack at a nice, flat marathon this fall. As for now, I’m trying to complete my own Western States of ice cream, eating ice cream every night for at least 100 nights. So far I’m still on track!

Three Lincoln athletes complete 100-mile Western States Endurance Run

2010-07-01T13:56:00.000-07:00

This piece is running in the Lincoln paper this week. For those interested, I had a fantastic race! I'm writing up as detailed a race report as I can, I want to remember everything from this weekend. I'm over 6 pages in and I'm only to the first aid station. If you're interested in reading the race report, check back in a couple of weeks :-)

Three Lincoln athletes complete 100-mile Western States Endurance Run

By Russ Edmondson The News Messenger

Courtesy photo

Lincoln’s Tony Overbay, left, and Lincoln’s Chris Perillo hang out prior to the start of Saturday’s race.

Three Lincoln athletes competed in the 37th annual 100-mile Western States Endurance Run over the weekend.

Lincoln’s Tony Overbay, 40, and Chris Perillo, 40, competed in the men’s division while Lincoln’s Lainie Callahan-Mattoon, 34, competed for the women. The course starts in Squaw Valley and ends at Placer High in Auburn.

Callahan-Mattoon (time of 25:34.27) was the 22nd finisher among the women while Overbay (24:18.15) placed 125th overall (men and women combined) and Perillo (25:50.24) was 151st overall.

Overbay and Perillo trained together to prepare for the race but had never met Callahan-Mattoon until Saturday.

“We saw Lainie’s name on the list of entrants but never met her,” Overbay said. “I met up with Lainie around 36 miles into the race and ran with her up to mile 42. Then I ran with her again from (mile) 56 to 62.”

It was the first time competing in this event for all three runners and it was the first 100-mile race of any kind for Perillo and Callahan-Mattoon. Overbay competed in the Rio Del Lago 100-mile run in Sept. of 2008.

There were 478 runners that began the race over the weekend but only 328 finished it.

“I’m typically asked why run a 100 miler? How many chances do you have to do something truly epic in your life?” Overbay said. “Running 100 miles takes you through so many emotions, many that you didn’t even know you had in you. I had a near perfect day. So many things can go wrong, from hydration, food, your feet, your stomach, fatigue, and then there’s the emotional piece.

“You learn a lot about yourself at 2 a.m. running on a trail in the middle of nowhere, having been up for over a day and knowing you still have 20 something miles to go.”

Perillo battled foot problems throughout the race and he expects to lose all 10 toenails.

Perillo went to the doctor on Monday and confirmed that he had two small stress fractures in the first metatarsal on his right foot. He thinks the fractures occurred sometime during the latter part of the race.

Newsmessenger - Getting Back to Doing What I Do Best...Freebies!

2010-06-08T16:45:00.000-07:00

Almost 12 years ago I wrote my first column in the Lincoln Newsmessenger. It was an editorial piece. I was tired of jogging around town getting chased by dogs. I called for leash law enforcement! A few days later I got a call from the Lincoln PD, I was at work. I thought they were going to yell at me again for leaving my basketball hoop on the sidewalk. They wanted to know exactly where the dogs were coming from. I almost felt bad ratting the dogs out, after all, they were just doing what dogs do barking and chasing, but I was also tired of running for my life every time I turned down the road leading to my house.

To this day, I still get chased by an occasional dog, and I wonder if they’re perhaps socially organized. Maybe those dogs did some hard time and when they got out they spread the word about the little bald guy who snitched. Every now and again my own dogs will come inside after being out on a walk and they’ll eyeball me a little differently, as if they’re trying to process if I’m the guy they’ve heard about.

But the most exciting thing about that column was the fact that it stirred folks into action. Not only did the police take care of the problem, people stopped me on the street to tell me that they either agreed with me, or to stop being a baby (OK, that was just my wife, but still). I was hooked! Shortly after that first piece, I wrote about the old Lincoln Donut shop. If you think Pink Box is good (which it is) the old Lincoln Donut shop was amazing. I walked into the shop one morning and the owner just slid the donuts across the counter and said “thanks for the mention.” I was so happy that I set the donuts on top of my van while buckling my newborn into her car seat and then I drove away. I realized I was missing the donuts when I got home. I was just glad I hadn’t buckled the donuts in and set my daughter on top of the van.

The now famous Lincoln Chinese restaurant opened shortly thereafter. I wrote about them as soon as I could and I must have gone in there a half a dozen times after the article went to press waiting for my free plate of General Chicken, but it never happened. I wrote about train whistles and the bypass (my favorite joke was that I’d probably have a bypass before the bypass was finished. If you saw the amount of ice cream I ate tonight you’d still be safe putting your money on my bypass coming first).

I used to take regular shots at city politicians, in particular, the mayor at the time, Ray Sprague. When Gold’s Gym opened up 5 years ago this summer, the first person I saw out on the weight room floor was Mayor Sprague, he was lifting more than me, so thankfully he took the ribbing well, and he and I went on to work out together for a couple of years before he moved out of town.

And I’ll never forget feeling like a true journalist when I wrote a piece that I thought was pretty funny about Sun City, but the Del Webb Company didn’t agree. My wife and I tried to go look at the very first model homes when there were just a couple of houses framed in the Lincoln Hills. We were turned away at the gate, we discovered at that time we were about 3 decades too young to buy a house on the hill. I wrote that as far as I knew, Sun City wasn’t real, that it was just a couple of facades put up to throw us all off. I received a call from the editor at the time who told me that Del Webb said I was calling their homes inferior, and that they wanted a retraction. She told me not to worry about it, and now some of the most avid readers of my columns come from Sun City. I still figure I’ll get denied in a mere 15 years when it’s my turn to move up on the hill.

My last article went to press in December. I’ve been asked many times where I’ve been? I was asked if I was fired, if I’d retired, or if there was another paper I admired (sorry, couldn’t resist the urge to rhyme). The truth is, I just haven’t had anything to say. If you’ve made it this far, you might think that’s still the case. But you know what? Lincoln kept on moving forward without me! I think it taught me a lesson, that it’s better to keep on keeping on than to sit back on the sidelines and watch.

The ladies at the post office, a couple of them have supported me and my writing since I first went to print, had a better theory, that perhaps something I might have said over the past few months wouldn’t have been taken too kindly, so my sabbatical was somewhat inspired. But regardless of the excuse, I believe I’m back. I must have something to say, something about that new Mexican Restaurant that just opened in town, Casa Ramos, I hear it’s pretty good. Now somebody get them a copy of this column.

Lake Sonoma 50 Mile Endurance Run - Race Report

2010-04-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

If you’re reading this, and you’re a runner, no doubt at some point your intelligence has come in question. We’ve all heard the comments, the “You’ve got to be an idiot to run ______ (insert mileage here, the higher the mileage apparently the lower the intelligence) miles!”

For the most part those comments are like water on a ducks back, they roll right off. Sure, I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but the running actually keeps me slightly ahead of the next guy mentally. The latest round of studies released a month or so ago back me up, running keeps the brain firing on all cylinders. Granted, it doesn’t do a lot for motivation when one isn’t running, or I’d actually go look up these studies, but trust me, with a little googling I’m sure you’ll find them.

But my point in starting a race report in this manner is that for the first time, I clearly resemble that “idiot” remark. On Tuesday of last week I was running a nice 102 degree fever. We had gone up to the snow the previous day (minimum day for the kids) and I felt like I was 102 years old. I could barely drag myself up the hill only to feel beat to pieces on the way down via sled. By the time we got home, I felt spent and had to muster up strength just to take the garbage cans to the curb. The fever hit Tuesday and I was a mess. But by Thursday I was feeling better, so of course, what better way to spend my weekend but to join 155 other runners for the 3^rd running of the Lake Sonoma 50 Mile Endurance Run, aka “One Tough Run.”

I only worked half a day on Friday and ultra pal Jeffery Johnston and I picked up ultra gal Sandra Ross and headed North West through the wine country to Sonoma. We headed to Sonoma via Napa, the wine country. I haven’t driven that way before and the sights were amazing. Miles and miles of vineyards and some of them complete with castle-looking manors, truly amazing. We arrived in the town of Cloverdale (I believe that was the place) mid afternoon and were able to relax a bit before eating a very nice carb-filled dinner at Mary’s Pizza Shack which was within walking distance of the hotel (actually right outside of the hotel door which was even better). Jeffery and I watched a couple of hours of crime dramas (neither of us are huge TV watchers at home so truly, to sit there on a hotel bed, and veg out to mindless TV the night before a race is truly heavenly) and then hit the lights at 9 PM sharp. I was out within 20 minutes and, all things considered, slept pretty well. I woke up at 3:45 AM well before the 4:15 wake up call and heard Jeffery moving around as well. We were up. Law and Order was starting at 4 AM so I got in a full episode pre-race, too! Frat boy kills off an old couple that now lived in his old house. I never saw it coming.

One of the benefits of traveling to a race with Jeffery is that he is all about the routine. He starts packing for a race approximately 2-3 months before the race…OK, not that bad, probably a few days, but when we hit the hotel room he has to have everything ready for race morning before he can truly settle in. I’ve adopted this practice and it really does bring some peace of mind the morning of the race. Everything was already in my drop bag, I had a bag of clothes for after the race, I had my race gear laid out as well as my “throw away” gloves and hat for the anticipated cold, early morning start. So all we could do was wait until the 5:45 departure time.

We picked up Sandra at 5:45 and we were off to race start. It was still dark at the start but you could feel the energy in the air. There were runners everywhere at the check in. We made potty stops at the porta-potties (glad I had brought my headlamp, you do the math) and before I knew it race director John Medinger was calling 5 minutes until the start on a bullhorn. We made our way to the start and I immediately felt like I was among people far more prepared than I was. I heard someone on the trail later in the day explain that Lake Sonoma was a hard race. You don’t enter Sonoma unless you’re ready for it. Suddenly I asked myself, was I ready for this? Right about that time John signaled the start and we were off!

The first 5 miles were fairly congested and a little muddy, but in reality neither was too bad. Jeffery had said that the previous year, the first few miles were mostly “conga line” meaning on the single-track trails it was really backed up, you essentially ran the pace of the mob, whether it be too fast or too slow. While there were plenty of people on the course, I felt that the pace was moving along quite well. The air was brisk, but perfect, it was going to be a great day to run 50 miles.

Island View (Mile 4.7)

The first aid station came and went. We soon met our first “creek” crossing. It was a flowing river. I followed a couple of runners up the creek a bit hoping to be able to avoid getting as wet, as it was still early in the race. I had heard several people say that getting soaked was inevitable and you could definitely see those who had run the course just go plowing right through the thigh-high creek. I should have. I wasted a couple of minutes trying to make my way gingerly across and ended up just as wet as anyone else.

Warm Springs Creek (12.1 miles, and not so warm of a creek!)

The next aid station was at mile 12, a little over 7 miles away, the longest gap between aid stations on the course. The terrain, and this can’t be said enough with this course, was rolling hills. There weren’t too many giant climbs or huge descents, but there as up and down all day long. Unfortunately I noticed my first problem of the day, wet orthotics.

I used to have pretty crummy feet. Long story short we spent a year (we meaning Kaiser and I) chasing down plantar fasciitis, we’re talking back in the late 90’s, back in the days of running one or maybe, MAYBE two marathons a year. I feel that Kaiser was doing all they could to avoid an MRI so I spent that year going to ultra sound therapists, electroaccuscope therapy, even acupuncture and nothing helped. I finally got my MRI and it revealed inflamed tendons or something to that effect on the bottom of my feet. $300 later thanks to the handy work of former sub-2:25 marathoner Dr. Kevin Kirby, I had custom orthotics and I wore them night and day. My feet felt better. Fast forward a decade and change and I still wear them often, but I can get away without them as well and I often do because I get tired of moving them from shoe to shoe (yes, I have multiple pair by now, but I also have a lot of shoes!). The day before the race I was deciding between the stock insoles of my Brooks Cascadia 6 trail shoes or my custom orthotics. I decided on the orthotics since I’d be running 50 miles. This would be a decision that I wish I wouldn’t have made and I thought about it with every creek/river crossing (and there were plenty!).

My orthotics were obviously soaked thanks to the full submersion in the river. The course was up and down and up and down. Every steep down (and again, there were plenty, they just weren’t terribly wrong) my soaked orthotics would slink up in my shoe and I would come out of my heel cup. I spend the flats and ups trying to wiggle them back into place. I did this over and over and over and over and over and over…I drove me crazy the rest of the day. And sure enough, every time my shoes would get just dry enough, another river crossing and I’d repeat the scrunching process.

Take away the wet orthotic fun, though and the race was going well. My chest congestion wasn’t playing a factor at all, I felt good. I will say that if I had a dollar for every “cowboy blow” aka “snot rocket” that I let fly on this day I would be able to fully fund my IRA for 2009 and 2010. But the coughing and raw chest that caused me to take my first DNF (did not finish) at the Jed Smith ultra classing in February (only made it 19 out of the 32 miles) was nonexistent.

Wheels Start to Come Off

At mile 12 I lost my Moeben arm sleeves (put them in my drop bag) and my beanie, ate some Gu Chomps and put a bottle of my special mix into one of my handheld water bottles and I was off. There had been a pretty significant river crossing somewhere around mile 11 so my feet and orthotics were again soaked. There was about a mile climb, not a horrible climb, but fairly long, coming out of the aid station so I squished my toes as much as I could trying to get the excess water out. Sure enough a descent followed and I was back to the misery of the moving orthotics.

Wulfow (Mile 17.4)

I came into the mile 17 aid station still feeling good. On the climb to the aid station ultra runner and medical check person Chuck Godtfredsen was sitting there taking pictures. Knowing he was on medical patrol and yelled out “I need medical aid!” and Chuck sprung into action. “Do you really, Tony?” I told him no, I was just kidding. But let’s call that “foreshadowing.” I left mile 17 still feeling great. I was wearing my Garmin Forerunner GPS watch but hadn’t turned it on yet. I knew the battery life was lessening and last I checked, I only had a good 8 hours of battery life in it. I told myself the longer I could wait to turn it on the better. I can’t lie, it was a lot easier to run without knowing my splits, the time, my current pace, than I thought it would be. I’m a numbers and watch junkie. I told myself I’d turn it on at the next aid station, mile 20.

The next two miles felt good, I was still running with Jeffery, but I had gotten a few runners behind him. He was running strong. At 17 I told him my legs were tired, but in my world, at least, I think they should be a little bit. Around mile 19 we started up a very, very steep climb on some pavement, up a hill to the mile 20 aid station. From 20 you could actually see the mile 25 aid station across a little canyon. You would descend 2 miles out of the 20 mile aid station and then climb 3 miles up to 25, turn around and then head back to the start.

I started to notice on the climb to 20 my heart was racing. My pulse was going crazy. I was doing a self check in and I had been drinking, eating and taking my salt tablets. The only thing I hadn’t been doing was pee’ing. Now normally by mile 20 I’m 10 pee’s into a race. I thought back and I remember stopping one around mile 6, just after the first aid station. I thought back to the 102 fever just 4 days earlier. I wondered if these were signs of dehydration? The racing heart beat? No pee? I pinched the back of my hand, I saw that on some CSI or something long ago. If the skin didn’t go back to normal I’d definitely have a problem. It bounced right back. (Note – that last part was to be read a bit facetiously, I knew something was up but the back of the hand pinch was a bit dramatic, but I really did try it). I started really dying going up the hill and I let Jeffery know it. He was feeling good, so I didn’t want to rain on his parade. I watched him pull ahead. That’d be the last we ran together all day.

Liberty Glen (Mile 20.2)

I got into 20 and downed a gel, another salt tablet and drank some Mountain Dew. I don’t normally do non-diet sodas and I don’t do caffeine, so when I start resorting to the full leaded, caffeinated sodas I mean business. It can settle the stomach and give a little pep. I headed out of 20 and decided to turn on my watch, I figured that would help. I turned it on and was immediately met with LOW BATTERY. What!? It had been on the charger for 2 days! What had happened? It came on and it worked for the next 78 minutes, maybe that was for the best in the long run.

From 20 to 22 I was doing OK, heart rate back to normal, but sill no pee! 22.5 we started to climb again and it would be a rather solid, steep climb all the way to 25. To make matters worse, all the folks ahead of me were on the downhill so they were flying, and they had already been to mile 25 and were now on their way back. So I’m dragging up a hill, my heart beating out of my ear drums and people are flying down the hill yelling “almost there!” and “looking good!” I knew I didn’t look good and, to be honest, I knew I wasn’t really almost there. That’s just something that us runners say.

Here’s where things got odd. My heart is racing. I’m putting together all the pieces to the puzzle, being sick, not peeing, first sunny day I’ve run in, salt caking my face and I start thinking I’m dehydrated. Then I start hearing the words of all the non-runners that have come up to me and told me of some runner that they knew who had dropped dead right on the track, or on a run. I thought of the marathon I had recently read about, I think Detroit? Where three people died on the course! Sure, I had read the Runner’s World articles every couple of years that refute these claims and basically say that those folks were running with bad tickers, that they’d probably have kicked off whether they were running a lap or mowing the lawn but still, I wondered if their last thoughts had been, “geez, my heart is feels like it is going to beat right out of my chest…”

Rockpile Road (Mile 25.0, the turn around!)

I finally made it to the mile 25 aid station. I decided I should tell somebody about my heart rate. I asked around and a couple of people come over and take my pulse, sit me down, put ice on my neck and tell me to drink, to take it easy. I was worried about what the delay would do to my time! But for the first time in a race I figured it was probably better to live than to PR. After 10 or 15 minutes I felt pretty good. I knew the next couple of miles were downhill (now heading back to the start). So I took off. The downhill felt great and I figured I was back in the ball game. I passed a lot of people coming toward the turnaround and I told them that they looked great and that they were almost there (because that’s what we do!).

Liberty Glen (29.8)

At mile 28 I started to climb, and so did my heart rate. This time I embraced it, I eased back on the throttle and enjoyed myself. My friends Monica and Trish passed me running strong and I genuinely felt upbeat. I came into the mile 30 aid station and was met by Chuck, this time in his official duties as the paramedic on duty. They had let him know I was coming. He had me sit for a bit, drink and he wanted me to make water, just like a big boy! He apologized for putting me in the penalty box, but at that point I was fine to sit for a bit. Another 10 or 15 minutes and I was able to produce a little bit for him and he sent me off. You start to realize the perspective of an ultra runner. At this point I honestly felt like I was practically done, only 20 miles to go, 30 were behind me! I cruised the downhill for the next mile and fell into a rhythm for the rest of the day.

Wulfow (32.7) and Warm Springs Creek (37.9)

I came into the Wulfow aid station and I was smiling. Out of there quickly after saying hello to running friend Peter Defty and I again found a nice rhythm. I came into 38 and grabbed some more Gu Chomps out of my bag and felt like I was in the home stretch. I crossed more creeks, cursed my orthotics and settled into an “all day pace” for the next 7 miles until the last aid station, only 4.7 to go.

Island View (45.3)

A nice self-inventory at mile 45, my tummy was good, my legs were good and my spirits were good. I caught and passed a few “dead men walking” over the last couple of miles and I was happy I was feeling good. I still hadn’t pee’d again since mile 30 and I figured I’d worry about that a bit later. I was still drinking plenty. Before I knew it I saw the sign for 1 mile to go. Admittedly it seemed like the longest mile of my life but I eventually found the finish line.

According to the race web site, 155 entered, 144 started. I was so happy to be one of the finishers on this day when I seriously gave some thought to throwing in the towel. I knew that sticking it out would do me a world of good heading into the Western States 100 in June. I finished in 11:51:17, about an hour and 20 minutes later than I had hoped (and about 45 minutes later than was probably more realistic) good for 107^th place. 50 miles, 10,500 feet of climbing, I loved the course and plan on doing it again. Sure, not a great time (clock time) but a great time (learning time) regardless. Jeffery set a nice PR with 11:22:26 and Sandra actually finished right behind me in 11:57:16. All in all a fantastic learning experience. We hit In-n-Out on the way home, my kidneys finally started to come around at about 2 AM and they didn’t stop…all…night…long.

Post –Race

Probably the biggest confidence booster was the fact that despite a little soreness on Sunday, I never had to go down the stairs backwards! We went on a nice family walk Sunday evening and I was back in the gym on the elliptical on Monday and Tuesday, running again by Wednesday and Jeffery and I did 13 miles on the trails Saturday morning complete with the K2 and Stagecoach training hills. Next up, May 1^st, Miwok 100k! Note to self, last week of April start pounding Zicam, Airborne, Emergen’C…it’s going to be a great day!

Banana Man Invades the 2010 Running of Way Too Cool

2010-03-14T18:00:00.000-07:00

Today I was the banana man! There have been many firsts in my life that have far exceeded expectations. There was the first time I bungee jumped. After a quick change of my shorts I couldn't wait to go again. The first time I shaved my head and hoisted my the 2 year old onto my shoulders and realized I no longer had to worry about her messing up my hair! And then there was the time I, at age 40, dressed up in a giant banana costume and shouted encouragement to the 535 runners brave enough to run the 14th running of the Way Too Cool 50k endurance run.

The truth is, I would have rather been running the race, but after the lottery gods smiled upon me and granted me entry into this year’s Western States 100 mile endurance run and the Miwok 100k, I guess it was only fair I didn't make it into Cool. Desperate to start fulfilling my volunteer hours commitment for States, I immediately contacted Cool race director (Cool as in the race and cool because she’s, well, pretty cool herself) and uber-ultra runner in her own right Julie Fingar and asked if I could help with the race. She put me in touch with Monica, the volunteer coordinator and I was set to help Julie throughout the race.

A couple of weeks before the big day Julie emailed me and gave me every out possible while still asking me if I'd be interested in donning a big banana costume and making a complete fool of myself at a couple of spots on the course. I didn't even hesitate! When I shared the plan with my wife she said she didn't get it. "Why a banana?"

"Why not a banana?" I said. I knew that if I was running 32 miles I'd love to see a large banana out on the course cheering me on.

A couple of days before the race Julie sent out a schedule of the days events. Every detail was spelled out from set up to tear down, including what time and where Banana Man was expected to be. My good friend and 2009 Western States finisher Jeffery Johnston would be my chauffeur. Our first stop was mile 2.25, where the course moved from pavement to trail. Jeffery's wife Jeanne was running the race, her first ultra, so Jeffery was as excited as I was to start seeing runners come pounding down the road.

By 10 minutes to the race start I was in full banana attire. Jeffery had just polished off a real banana and, seeing the peel in his car, inspiration hit! I grabbed the peel and dropped it on the ground. I grabbed two more bananas and used them to point the direction to the trail. We had a boom box and a Bon Jovi CD, what more could you want? Jeffery cranked the tunes, and in full costume I realized that I forgot to do one very important thing before committing to my role. A quick disrobing and potty break and I was barely back in banana mode when the first runners came barreling down the road. It was fascinating watching the leaders, they definitely meant business. Nobody was giving any love to the Banana Man.

The therapist in me came alive! Being a giant banana at a race full of runners both competitive and not became a field experiment. Here’s what I learned. The first 15 runners or so wouldn’t give me the time of day. I was standing pretty close to the transition to the trail yet they were so focused on their footing, on the guy in front of them, on the transition to the trail, on the race in general that I bet they didn’t even realize a large banana was directing them toward the trail. And then it happened. The first smile, followed quickly by the first high five. I start yelling for folks to avoid the banana peel on the ground. I start calling out folks wearing cowboy hats, no shirts and a variety of colorful clothing. The shouts were non stop by mid-pack. Mid-packers loved the Banana Man. Runners stopped and took pictures. I was asked by one runner if I could come be at their race, I was hugged several times, it was a lot of fun.

As the end of the pack neared, it was more hit and miss. Some people seemed to already be thinking about, and not being excited about, the fact that they had another 30 miles to go. Some people weren’t looking at the Banana Man, while others were in full five and hug mode. We saw Jeanne, Jeffery’s wife, she looked great, we spent a few more minutes at that spot until no more runners appeared to be coming and we were off to the 7 mile mark, the highway 49 crossing.

The pattern continued to play out. Leaders don’t like large Bananas, while mid-to-late packers apparently do. The number of hugs and fives went through the roof, and I was even asked to pose with a couple of kids who wanted to meet the Banana!

After about an hour or more at the aid station the field moved through. The Banana Man’s job was done. My email and Facebook accounts have been filled with Banana Man love. I’m a little worried that my performance may have solidified my not getting into the lottery in 2011! Big thanks to Julie for the opportunity to do something different and a HUGE thanks to the runners who got the joke and had fun with the Banana Man. In two weeks I’ll be running the Lake Sonoma 50 miler and I can only hope that there will be a large piece of fruit on the course that I can show some love.

Newsmessenger - Turning 40, Popping Pills and Fish Oil

2010-01-28T14:09:00.000-08:00

Let me start with four confessions. First, I'm a bit of a vitamin junkie. Second, I have a hard time swallowing pills. Third, I'm a sucker for a bargain and fourth, I just turned 40. These random bits of information will all come into play in the next few paragraphs.

First, the vitamins. I like the kid kind. If I can chew it, I take it. Our cupboard features chewable dinosaurs, gummy bears and good old vitamin C. Until ice cream and In-n-Out are fortified with vitamins I figure I might as well do my part in adding them to my diet.

Normally one who likes vitamins wouldn't have a problem with pills. But again, I like the chewable kind. I'll get a prescription for a pill and the first question I ask the doctor is, “Let's just say somebody were to chew this up instead of swallow it? Still effective?” It's at that point that I'm given the gallon jug of penicillin or whatever else usually only comes in horse pill-sized doses. I've had some decent streaks of being able to swallow “big boy” pills and I'll think my problems are in the past, and then I choke on one again and I'm chewing them up for the next couple of years.

Onto the bargains. I never thought I'd turn into that guy who tells everybody how much I paid for things. I haven't paid retail in over a decade and I'm not about to start. When Christmas comes around, I find myself surfing a couple of bargain websites daily. Normally this is OK, but occasionally I buy stuff I don't need. Like a couple of weeks ago. There was a vitamin site selling bottles of various vitamins and supplements for $1 each, free shipping even!

I had just turned 40. I've never felt better, but perhaps the comments of others were creeping into my subconscious. “You fall apart after you hit 40!” Leading up to my birthday I heard this on a daily basis. So put all of this together and it was a moment where the planets aligned. Vitamins, on sale, for this over-40-year old. I ordered 10 bottles of everything from dried up berries to the roots of various plants, some crushed up mushrooms, some type of yeast, you name it, I was going to be seriously healthy. I even ordered fish oil!

I started taking the vitamins immediately. Honestly, I felt no difference, but maybe roots and barks and plants take a while to kick in. The pill I hesitated on was the fish oil. The pill was the size of the small fish I used to use as bait when fishing with my dad. It was huge! The first two times I tried, the pill went down surprisingly well. I was cured!

Then one day I was heading to work. I forgot to take my pills in the morning so I grabbed them and took them with me in the car. I threw them all down except the fish oil. I knew I was 2 for 2 taking the pill, but I had never taken it sitting down. I tried to pretend it was no big deal. I put it in my mouth and panicked. I counted to three and swallowed! As soon as it started down my throat I knew I was in trouble. It stuck immediately.

My mouth started filling with saliva. The roads were packed. I tried to swallow the saliva and it kept coming back up. I was in trouble. I made a plan to pull off at the closest gas station. By the time I arrived my cheeks were puffed up full of saliva, my chest was burning. I opened the door and got rid of the saliva much to the chagrin of an elderly couple just starting to enjoy a donut. I stood up to make my way to the bathroom and I felt immediate relief, the capsule must have popped.

Quickly after I felt the sense of relief I was reminded of what was inside of a fish oil capsule. Fish oil! It tasted like I had just spent 10 minutes licking a fish lollypop. I imagined this was what it tasted like to drink the water out of a sardine can.

I was happy to feel the sense of relief, but at least 4 or 5 times throughout the day my stomach gave me a quick, but powerful reminder of the just how fishy that fish oil was. At one point I stifled a belch, I felt successfully, only to have a client ask in the middle of a tear felt confession, “Do they serve fish tacos at the Mexican Deli next door?” I now have 27 fish oil pills sitting in a bottle. I think I've finally found a pill that I'll neither be chewing, or getting in the one gallon liquid size.

Newsmessenger - Celebrating President's Day...I Mean Christmas

2009-12-29T16:01:00.000-08:00

Hey kids, if you're under 12 and stumbled upon this column, well, go ahead and keep moving along. There's nothing to read here. I'd recommend the Streetwise section across the page. Or might I suggest the sports section. How about those Zebras? No, this column is all about really boring things like C-Span, the health care reform bill, watching golf on TV and ways to make a really good dish of liver and onions.

There, are they gone? Is everybody over the age of 18? Wait, with the subject matter that I'm about to tackle I still can't take any chances. I need to write in code. There is impending crisis in the Overbay home this holiday season.

See if you can follow me. Let's just say that at a particular time of year we celebrate a very, very major holiday. For the sake of continuing to write in code, let's say it's President's Day. And during this holiday, oh yeah, President's Day, there is a guy who dresses up and gives presents. So, well, maybe President's Day wasn't the best example, but just to make my point, let's stick with it. On President's Day, good old Abe Lincoln himself comes down through the chimney, wait, too close, comes through the bathroom window, you know, the little one above the toilet bowl, and brings presents to all the good little boys and girls. Are you still following me?

The kids leave their top hats by the fire and Abe fills them with more toys and candy, and a toothbrush, always a toothbrush. Why? I still can't figure that one out, but there was always a toothbrush in there, it just seemed so out of place when I was a kid! Anyway, back to the dilemma. So let's just say that your oldest daughter, one so innocent and pure, one who earlier this year abandon the belief of other magical characters such as the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny, is starting to doubt her belief in Abe Lincoln! What's a father to do? I knew this day would come, and I have to be honest, I was one of the longest holdouts to believe in Abe Lincoln, myself, but I just remember when I finally discovered the truth about, um, Abe, I was so disappointed!

Sure, I had spent many hours breaking down how Abe Lincoln made it all around the world in just a matter of hours. I had seen the TV specials showing how Abe hopped in his, um, well, his 1955 souped up Ford Thunderbird. I knew the Tbird was roomy, but where did he fit all those presents? I knew it seemed impossible, but I held on to the hope that he was real until the very last minute.

I remember being with a group of friends. I, too, was around 10 or 11 at the time. We were listening to the radio, and the DJ came on to say that there had been sightings of Abe in his Tbird in various locations around the world. Half of my friends gave that “yeah right” look while the rest of us tried to do the math on when he was due to arrive. I had been to the stores and sat on Abe's, um, shoulders. I had noticed that so many of the Abe's looked different.. Some had nicer three-piece suits than the others. Some had more substantial top hats. Others looks excited to hear what kids wanted for President's Day while some looked like they just wanted out of there. And even when I bought the story that these were the real Abe's helpers, straight from their secret lair inside of Mount Rushmore, I couldn't imagine that the real Abe would send out helpers who really didn't seem to care. It all unraveled so quickly.

And so here we sit, just a couple of days from Christmas. Thankfully we know Santa to be real, the stories to be legit. But what, oh what is a dad to do in hopes of keeping his daughter, and the rest of his kids President's Days special now, and into the years to come? We definitely don't want to find them on Abe's “indifferent list,” we all know that's a surefire way to find your top hat filled with expired Nutella!

So I guess for now I'll just relish in the fact that my children know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is indeed a Santa Claus. And Alexa, if you dare mention your concerns in front of the younger kids again there really will be coal in your stocking! Merry Christmas everyone. And a very, Happy New Year!

Newsmessenger - Blowing Hot Air About the Health Care Crisis

2009-11-30T22:44:00.000-08:00

With all the talk lately about health care, I found myself thinking back to my first health-care crisis.

I was 5. I had a friend named Blue. He was 3, maybe 4 and not much of a talker. I loaded him up in my Radio Flyer and pulled him around the driveway. We took a turn hard and Blue spilled out of the wagon and landed on his arm. When he tried to get up, his arm didn’t bend the right way.

I sprinted home to get help and was immediately distracted by my brother eating a Drumstick ice cream cone. I wanted one so I looked for my mom.

I remembered Blue a few hours later and went to his house to find him in a cast. His parents assumed he simply fell out of the wagon. Blue didn’t feel the need to tell them that it was my fault so neither did I.

I learned to hold my tongue that day. I’m not saying it was right, but in that situation, it paid off.

Fast forward to just a few years ago. Occasionally I suffer from seasonal allergies. The kind that stuffs your nose up so bad you can’t even taste ice cream. You eat it anyway but you can’t taste it. Sometimes when they were particularly bad I would get asthma-like symptoms. They would last for a week or two and a quick puff on an inhaler would clear me up.

One day, I took a puff and nothing came out. I had switched insurance companies and, in order to get a new prescription, my provider required me to meet with an asthma specialist. Soon I found myself in an examination room with a grandmotherly-looking woman with hands like ice. She felt around my back and chest, listened to me breathe and lectured me on how to alleviate my asthma-like symptoms throughout the year.

I held my tongue. I just wanted the new prescription.

Just when I thought I was done, she pulled out a small tube-like device, hollow, with a mouthpiece on one end.

It resembled a small recorder, the last musical instrument I ever attempted to play. I still remember the day I brought the recorder home from school. We were going to be best friends. The recorder and I would spend many, many ... and then I noticed my brother had a Drumstick and the recorder was immediately left behind.

The doctor asked me to blow hard into the mouthpiece of the device. The top featured a row of numbers and an arrow that gauged one’s wind. The numbers ranged from 0 to 20.

On my first blow, the red arrow just passed the number 10.

Always a competitor, I decided I would do my best to bury the arrow. No doubt she’d be impressed and talk about me and my wind in the break-room, the guy who blew a 20.

On my second attempt, I gave it all I had and the arrow moved close to 14. Impressive coming off of my first attempt but not close enough to be lunchtime fodder.

On the third attempt, I decided to leave nothing to chance. The room was deathly quiet. I inhaled like I was about to blow the candles off America’s next birthday cake. I breathed out with a force that rivaled a typhoon. I watched as the arrow moved past 10, then 15.

If only I could push just a bit harder!

So I gave it everything that I had and then it happened. I was so focused on setting a record. I pushed out with such force that, well, the excess pressure needed an escape, and unfortunately, it wasn’t through my mouth.

Worse yet, it was loud. Among my kids, I’d be a hero but I doubted the doctor shared our fancy for flatulence.

There I was, mid-30’s at the time, in the room with a woman who could have been my grandmother, trying my darnedest to impress her with my wind and impress her surely I did.

The sterile floors, the thin walls, the echo could no doubt be heard in the waiting room. I could immediately “own it” or pretend it didn’t happen.

Maybe her hearing wasn’t good? If it was, then her acting was, too, because she pretended not to hear anything. She simply walked over to her prescription pad and wrote me the prescription.

As she handed me the paper, I saw a smile form on one side of her mouth.

I thought back to the driveway with Blue. Keeping quiet had again served me well. Although no doubt talk of my wind would indeed be the topic in the lunchroom.

I Turned 40 Today!

2009-11-24T23:27:00.000-08:00

I’m 40 today. I realize that this day will only come once in my life, so I thought it might be a good idea to do a bit of “stream of consciousness” writing just to see where I was at on the day I turned the big 4-0! This isn’t a newspaper column or a race report. I don’t think I’ll take the time to edit it, either. One sitting, straight through. What I type is what I get! Tony uncensored! Unedited (OK, I didn’t spell uncensored or unedited correctly so this will be spell checked).

I haven’t been much of a Facebook poster. Yes, I have a lot of friends on Facebook but I don’t do much with them. I guess in that regard Facebook sort of parallels life, more so a guys life. I love the fact that guys can go years without seeing each other, get together for a few hours at a game, a trade show or a party, feel like they were long lost best friends and then part ways without the “we should hang” talk that seems to affect so many women’s relationships. And yes, I type those last comments as a professional therapist. I’ve sat with many, many female clients who try their best to break down the game film on their friendships, and burn a lot of calories worrying about them. Wait, burning calories...worrying about friendships, I think I'm on to the next fad diet! Yet I digress, I’m 40!

The reason I brought up Facebook is that today I learned what it can truly be good for…hearing from a lot of old friends with very witty things to say about your age. Some of my favorites: (Note – I had a bunch more come in later in the evening, a couple with some great comments but in the vein of getting something posted, I decided to just go with what I typed earlier)

From friend Leslie: “Enjoy your new age group.” She’s talking about moving up to the 40-45 year old age group in ultra running. The only problem is that over 40 is when ultra runners hit their stride! I’ll actually fall a few places in my age group finish ranks now that I’m over 40!

From cousin Kevin: “"What's it feel like, cous? I've been sweating this one myself. Wow, 40, that sounds old." Yeah, it does sound old. Wendy and I were talking about it this morning and when you were younger, even in your 20’s, and you heard somebody was 40 you thought they were old! I don’t feel old! I had a client just last week tell me that they had gone out with an older couple in their neighborhood. I had to ask. “How old?” She said, “I don’t know, I think he was 38 and she was 36.” I told myself that she was actually complimenting me because she much not have thought I was THAT old!

From my friend Brien: “"Wow 40! You've finally joined the club. Well look on the bright side, at least you're not going to lose your hair. Happy Birthday bro." Little do those with hair know that being bald, I’ve been told, seems to hide the age a bit. No gray hair, can’t even see how or where it’s receding after a fresh shave…and yes, this morning deserved a fresh shave. I was prepared for plenty of bald jokes today. I actually like them. I see pictures of me when I was still rocking the hair and all I think about is “why wasn’t bald cool when I was younger?” Even with that said, I still did “bald” early on. It took me a while to go from short hair to clipper cut, to a 1 guard to no guard and eventually hit with a razor. But once you go razor, you’re never going back. I almost feel bad that many of you will never experience the joy of a freshly shaven head scrubbed with a pouf with a nice soap. Just picture having your head scratched, in a good way, times 100! Finally, on the subject of bald, it definitely is accepted, but I remember when it wasn’t. Christmas always reminds me of when I did bald before bald was cool. I was carrying a package into FedEx and a nice old lady opened the door for me and gave me that “oh, poor thing!” look. I’m guessing that she assumed I was battling cancer.

Me sporting a "wig hat" my friend Jeffery got me for my 40th, my kids like me better bald.

From my cousin Emily: “"I was not aware you were turning the big 4-0 today!!! Doesn't that make you a little old for facebook :) Just kidding. Happy Birthday cousin :)” Well Emily, actually I do feel a little old for Facebook, just on the edge, but then I get a friend request from somebody 20 years older and I feel OK! I definitely don’t “speak” Facebook, I still type out entire words instead of saying things like: wht r u doin? Which means, I think, “what are you doing?”

From my friend Jennifer: "Happy Birthday my fellow "St. George Marathoner!" Hope 40 brings you lots of happiness! Have a fabulous day!" That’s right, I’m still moving! I have to admit, I’ve started to embrace the cliché “age is just a number” and I have hard evidence to prove it! I’ve never felt better…at least I don’t think I have. My race distances are longer, my times are faster. I’m just a month off of my fastest marathon of the 40 or so I’ve run. When I ran my first in my late 20’s, and if you’d have told me that my personal record (PR) would be achieved at 39 I would have thought you crazy! And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t planning on faster times to come. I know, I know, I sound a bit like “Uncle Rico” from Napoleon Dynamite, “I could throw this football over that mountain!” Or, I once asked someone who just turned 50 how they felt and they got a bit odd on me and told me all the things that they could still do to young folks, and they weren’t that nice! They had to do with certain body parts being

Friend's Cynthia and Jen reminded me that “40 is the new 20.” So does that mean I spend with reckless abandon, rack up credit card debt, consolidate and then start all over? Wait, doing that, guess it is the new 20!

Fraternity brother Eric said that it seems like yesterday that I was prank calling people and challenging them to a variety of sporting events, quite successfully I might add! That just reminded me that thanks to the days of caller ID and aggressive phone solicitors the days of innocently calling up a random number and challenging them to a ping pong game...and then watching them show up, are long gone.

But the best post of the day, I believe, goes to my cousin Keith who wrote: Happy Birthday Tony! The big four oooooh! You're in the shape of a guy half your age and have the hair of a guy twice your age." Nuff said, love that post.

So 40, yep, some of the stereotypes do come true. I just finished that section on Facebook posts and couldn't for the life of me remember what else I wanted to write, seriously! And when I started writing this I had no intention of writing up the Facebook posts. Thankfully, however, I did remember. What I was writing about, though, was my memory loss (how ironic?).

Quick back story. I was challenged by a good friend of mine to take a body fat test, the serious kind, the kind where you're weighed in a dunk tank. I've done a couple before, but my friend called me out. The loser had to take the winner out to lunch. That was simply the outward expression of an inner victory. The winner had bragging rights. My friend had a trainer working with him and he was working hard. I was pushing it as well and got my weight down to high school levels. Again, I've never felt better!

My parents do Halloween right. They buy full sized candy, none of this fun sized stuff. They send us the left overs. I pray for snow in Utah on Halloween because it means more full sized candy bars come my way. This year the care package arrived the first week of November full of bags of animal cookies, 3 foot long licorice ropes and bags of Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Cookies. I love these cookies. I ate a bag (or two) every Tuesday night for 2 years while in Grad School. I swear Amos was part of the reason I got my Master's Degree. Just knowing I would be downing a bag (or two) once a week was sometimes enough to get me to class.

I was two weeks from the body fat test. My friend was talking trash! His trainer was talking trash. I knew I could win...but what if I didn't? I went into serious diet-mode the final two weeks...the weeks with the cookies in house. Meanwhile my kids found the box from Grandma and Grandpa and they were making quick work of my cookies. So I did what any father would do who loved his family dearly, I took them and hid them! And that was the last I thought of the cookies.

The body fat test came and went (I won!). I started a week-long bender Saturday after the test. My friend's Staci and Melinda got me 40 full sized Kit Kat bars and I was working through those at a steady pace and then today, one of my daughters saw my article in the paper and asked me if I was “famous?”

“Famous?” I asked? “Famous Amos!” I don't think I said anything else to her but I quickly ran downstairs and found my stash and powered through a bag (or two). I guess the memory truly does go at 40, even the week or two leading up to 40!

So let me just say, 40 ain't so shabby! I've been bald for a decade. I'm in better shape now that I was in college. I have a hair that seriously grows out of the SIDE of my nose, so that's not so great, and I swear I take one of those ear hair clippers to my ears every week, but other than that I feel great!

One of my friends, Drew, now that I think about it, did post something about the exam I'm supposed to have at 40. I can't lie, I am scared of that one. I had another friend tell me that his Dr. said that “45 is the new 40” when it comes to checking the old prostate, so I think I'll cling very, very tightly to that saying.

My kids are great, my wife is hot, life is great. My wife bought a little sign that she put in the kitchen several years ago, it simply says, “It's all good.” I asked her one time why she was drawn to it and she said that she truly felt like when it all boils down to it, everything is indeed “all good!” So far I have to agree! Bring on 50! Well, actually that sounds pretty old!

Newsmessenger - Halloween Candy 101

2009-10-18T22:31:00.000-07:00

With Halloween just around the corner, I thought it might be wise to address a topic that I am very, very passionate about. Candy. As a father of four living in a standard California cookie cutter neighborhood (granted, a very nice and tidy cookie cutter neighborhood, I don’t want to be accused of driving my home value down any more than it already is!) I stand to bring in quite a haul on Halloween night. And much like a Mafia Don, Big Tony is going to be sure to get a piece of the pie.

Thankfully this year, Halloween falls on a Saturday. To be honest, it doesn’t matter to me if it falls on a school night, I’m going to wet my beak, or get a taste of the action (pun intended) before the kids go to bed regardless so having them not have to pull out of a candy hangover at 7 AM is a bonus. As a veteran now of over a decade sending out my candy minions to do my dirty work, I have developed a sorting system that I’m happy to share with you.

First, all candy undergoes a standard safety inspection. I’m sure we’ve all heard horror stories of razor blades and the like being inserted into Nestle Crunch bars as well as Kit Kat’s and Snickers. And if you haven’t, well, now you have and you can thank me from your chocolate-induced coma later. I remove these “A-list” candies immediately from the kid’s bags and put them into a large Ziploc labeled “Dad” which I tell them is a trash bag. Trust me; these will definitely be disposed of.

Next we run a series of tests on the remaining candies. Tootsie Rolls are bent and squeezed to check for freshness and a Butterfinger or two is sacrificed right on the spot to check consistency, or more specifically, if these were left over from last year. If the kids get home early enough these go into the bowl to hand out to the neighborhood kids along with the black and orange colored taffy. I have a theory that those were made once back in the 50’s and we’re still working off of that initial batch. If we’re too late to hand them back out, they get put into the “eat only when desperate” bag.

You then take your Hershey’s Chocolate, M&M’s, Skittles, Nerds, Runts and Laffy Taffy and put those into an “B-list” pile. These will be in the immediate rotation, meaning they’ll be snacked upon throughout the day in small enough doses that the calories will never really “stick.” Yes, this is another one of my theories. M&M’s used to be put in the “Dad” bag but I took exception with them, or more specifically the packaging. I, for one, don’t find much “Fun” in a “Fun Size” bag that contains 7 peanut M&M’s. It takes me about 5 or 6 “Fun Size” bags to even start remotely having fun and by that time I have a pretty “Pathetic Size” pile of wrappers sitting in front of me.

Finally we divide up the “C-listers” such as the Bottle Caps, Milk Duds, Dots and Smarties amongst the kids. I’ll let them keep the Milky Way’s and Three Musketeers’ as well as the Hershey’s Kisses just so they look like they made out alright. Let me be perfectly clear, the contents of your piles may vary. I once met a girl who loved the Root Beer Bottle Caps and would have clearly put them on the “A-list.” She was wrong, but entitled to her opinion nonetheless.

When the kids were little they tired easily and often didn’t earn their keep. To compensate I learned the fine art of turning off the porch light to preserve what was left in our own candy bowl. But with age and a slowing metabolism my wife no longer wants any part of the Halloween haul so she started buying the yucky candy to hand out so that she wouldn’t be tempted. If you’re looking for quantity over quality, hit my house up right before bed time and I’ll empty the remainder of the bowl in your pillow case for an even half-hearted “Trick or Treat!”

Inevitably, though, too much of a good thing can indeed get old. We’ll hit the candy buffet hard for the first few days and eventually the thrill of the haul is gone. The Kit Kat’s lose a bit of their bite, the Snickers don’t quite satisfy and the Crunch bars aren’t so crunchy. Not to worry, though, the kid’s candy bags quickly disappear only to find their contents magically lining the bottom of their Christmas stockings, my minions, I mean my kids, none the wiser.

Newsmessenger - Just Like the Pioneers of Old

2009-09-17T15:20:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago my wife and I sat down to watch a movie. The one line description on the screen made it sound like a good, suspenseful drama, sure to have plenty of twists and turns. Fifteen minutes later we turned it off. A lady spun around on a bridge with a disfigured face and then all heck broke loose. We realized that we no longer enjoyed being scared as we had early in our marriage. Now, scary is the idea of what goes on at the check up I’m scheduled for in a couple of months when I hit the big 4-0. That’s an entirely different column. But little did we know that the movie was foreshadowing our own real-life thriller that would take place just a week later.

Imagine the horror of being on vacation with 4 young children and suddenly the lights in the pool go out well before the 9 PM shut off time! Don’t get me wrong, the hotel generators kicked in, the outside lights came back on and we were able to finish our swim but it got worse! On the way back to our room we had to take the stairs! And it didn’t stop there. Once in our room, we had to resort to watching movies on a battery powered DVD player. We had no idea how much battery life we had! Oh the horror! The kids were in mortal terror as they played their portable gaming devices wondering aloud if power would return in time to charge the devices when they went to bed.

And the kids weren't the only ones in a panic. My iPhone was down to a 42% charge, my laptop battery showed only one power bar. This was no time to lose my head. I was quick to assume the role of a calming voice. Luckily I remembered that my youngest daughter had brought a headlamp in her suitcase. She likes to stay up late and read. I downloaded a “flashlight” application on my phone that provided enough light to locate the headlamp. It was a gamble, downloading the application would suck precious battery life that we might need later to entertain ourselves with some YouTube videos of cats playing the piano. We called a quick family council.

“Kids,” I said. “We often read stories about the pioneers and the challenges that they went through many, many years ago. Well, tonight we're creating our own stories. Stories that your children, my grandchildren, will someday read and wonder how we ever managed. Yes, it's true, the refrigerator is quickly losing coolant, and if the power doesn't return, our bedtime snacks will consist of not entirely frozen M&M's and not freezing cold water, but we can do this.”

“Not to fear,” I continued. “Our toothbrushes are battery powered and, in a pinch, we can watch the movies and TV shows that we all have on our iPods. I knew what I had to promise next. “If the power doesn't return by morning, I will sacrifice and go sit in the car while my phone charges using the automobile adapter.”

My young son let out a sniffle. “Pa,” he asked. “Will we still be able to swim in the morning?” This was no time to lie, he needed the truth. “I hope so, son, I really hope so. But without power, our key cards might not get us into the pool.” One of my daughters, or perhaps it was my wife, let out a scream! “Wait, aren't the hot water heaters dependent on the power? And what about my curling iron?”

“Honey,” I said. “I'm going to assume the hot water heaters are gas, but we can't be sure. They might indeed be electric, and, if so, we'll make the best of it.” I needed to take the kids minds off their surroundings. I decided I would tell some scary stories by the light of my illuminated cell phone. Stories about music that needed to be rewound, dinners that took a long time to cook in the oven and popcorn that popped in specially designed machines. I told them of records, days without Velcro and the McRib. I was just starting into an explanation of a “Pet Rock” when we suddenly heard the sound of angels...the whir of the air conditioning. The lights and TV came on and noises were coming from all sides. I grabbed my family close and held them tight! “We made it,” I said. “For the last 15 minutes kids, we were indeed just like the pioneers.”

As the kids faded off to sleep I turned the TV on and just had to laugh as we stumbled upon the same movie we had turned off just a couple of short weeks ago. Only this time it was like watching a comedy after the horror that we had just been through.

Tony Overbay is a 16-year Lincoln resident and father of four. You can find more of his writings at www.tonyoverbay.com.

Newsmessenger - This Just In, Walking 6th Grader to Class...Not Cool (But My Crocs Are Cool)!

2009-09-08T09:31:00.000-07:00

Life is full of unanswerable questions. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? Why do we say, “Bye bye,” but not “Hi, hi?” Why did Superman wear briefs on the outside of his tights? How many grains of sand are on a beach and will we ever know where all of the missing socks go from the laundry? (I do have my theories, but when a grown man references magical elves people tend to turn a deaf ear, and on that note, why aren’t their female leprechauns?). But one answer I do know for certain is when your parents walking you to class on the first day of school is not cool. That would be the 6^th grade.

With four children in school, managing the first day has become a major event. My wife and I divide up the duties of walking our children to class, careful to watch for visual clues of a possible melt down. If we see a tear start to form in an eye, or a lower lip tremble, we know to excite and distract. “Look at that pencil sharpener!” Or “That's the biggest bottle of hand sanitizer I've ever set eyes on!” Or, “Is that a female leprechaun?” We snap a photo, give a reassuring hug and a kiss and quickly make our way back to the car just in case the bravado wears thin and the child second guesses their excitement for the first day.

But this year the big question was who got to take our oldest to middle school? Middle school, land of cell phones and make up. Changing voices and changing attitudes, not always for the better. I won out and was flattered to take my daughter to school.

As I was getting ready that morning I noticed I was more self-aware than I have been in a long time. I felt like I was the one trying to make a good impression on the first day. I don't have hair, so I wasn't worried about wearing it in an out-of-date style. Yes, I have high school dance pictures with some sort of mullet, curls fresh from my Mom’s curling iron peeking out from the back underneath my ears. I spotted a potential problem as I glanced down at my feet. Crocs. Despite my love of the horrible looking gardening clogs I am certain they will be the bell bottoms, or possibly the leg warmers of my generation. My kids will see pictures of me wearing my Crocs and they will wonder if I knew they didn't look good when I was wearing them, the same way I look at pictures of my parents in the 70's and wonder if they knew those gigantic collars, odd glasses and horrible color combinations didn't work on them.

Well kids, let me go on record to say that I know my Crocs look hideous, but in true “old person style” I'll claim comfort over fashion. I have to say, I'm very curious to try on some dark socks with my shorts, they must be comfortable. Or perhaps a t-shirt with some dress pants, grow out a comb-over or let my nose and/or ear hair go for a few months. Take a look around and you’re sure to find these fashions still widely practiced, so there must be something to them.

But I don't believe it was my dress that caused my daughter to stop me in my tracks after just entering the playground, wait, I'm sure it's not called a playground in 6^th grade. We stopped on the blacktop, noticing no other parents in sight! None! I looked like the giant, solitary forehead zit on the face of the first day. She quickly gave me a hug and a kiss and dismissed me back to the car. My first thought was how did I miss the memo? Not too far away my wife was dropping off 2^nd and 4^th graders along with a playground full of other parents. Parking spots, she'd later tell me, were in high demand. I pulled right up in front of the school and found a spot. It was so wide open, as a matter of fact, that I got out and asked the cross guard if I could park there. She looked at me like I was speaking Klingon. Spots were open, people park, that’s the way it works!

How could you veteran parents do this to me? Did you all send around a note telling each other that you most definitely do not take your middle schooler to his or her classroom on the first day?

Luckily I still had my kindergartener in tow, ready for his own debut. I eventually found a spot at his school, fought the crowd into the class and found myself almost encouraging him to hang onto my leg as I prepared to leave, knowing now that the countdown was on. Five more first days of school left in my parenting career and my Crocs and I will simply be waving from the street, granted from an easy-to-find parking spot!

Newsmessenger - Two Lunches Not Better Than One!

2009-08-25T10:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you need to just follow your instincts. Like when your wife hands you the milk jug and says, “Smell this, it’s rotten, right?” Or when you hear that all-too-familiar gurgling sound coming from the diaper area of your infant. You know you should leave the room and play dumb, your wife will eventually stumble upon the lad and change the toxic spill that just happened in his Huggie.

My instincts were screaming at me not to eat two lunches last week yet I did it anyway. Well, I tried to. Lunch number one was at Chipotle and it was fantastic. Three glorious, crisp barbacoa tacos slathered in cheese and sour cream. I had an hour scheduled for lunch. I always feel like an hour won’t be enough, but the bottom line is that if you go to lunch on your own, you’re looking at 10 minutes tops to power down pretty much anything. Never does food seem as akin to fuel than when you’re eating alone. Get in, order and get out. Actually that last sentence reminds me of In-N-Out, but I digress.

There I was, fingers covered in sour cream, broken taco shells and shreds of lettuce littering the bottom of my red, plastic basket. I get lettuce so I can think for a moment that some of what I am eating is healthy. I was still hungry and just beginning to wonder how pathetic I’d look if I licked the remaining bits of meat and cheese off the paper lining of the basket when I spotted the golden arches. Yes, McDonald’s was right next to this particular Chipotle. I quickly surmised that this was no accident. Surely this was designed so that folks could easily move from lunch number one to lunch number two and still have plenty of time to make it back to work.

The wheels of justification were turning in full gear in my head. After all, I did go running earlier that morning. And, better yet, when I was done running with my friends I did a couple of extra miles with my remaining time. I had earned it! Apparently my salsa and sour cream-induced state didn’t allow my brain to do the calculations that a second lunch would, in fact, negate the benefits of two extra miles.

But the siren song of french fries was calling me to the drive through and at that time I did what we therapists like to call “detaching.” I went completely on auto pilot and before I knew it I was ordering up fries and a light lemonade. I figured the light lemonade would have a decent chance of washing the fries down quickly to catch up to the tacos. I have an untested, unscientific theory that when you blow your diet, you might as well blow it good! My theory goes something like this. The human body, as amazing as it is, can’t possibly take the time to pull the fat out of the second bowl of ice cream that followed the pie that followed the chicken that followed the hamburger that followed the chips and cheese-filled hot dog (welcome to my 4^th of July!). So might as well throw as much as you can in there once you’ve started! Oh yeah, and regardless of what day of the week you blow your diet, you start again next Monday.

Keep in mind that the entire time I’m doing this I know I shouldn’t be. And that’s when my instincts no doubt had a good laugh at my expense. As I pulled away from the drive through, I reached down into the bag still in my detached state. No fries, just a fish sandwich! I don’t like fish sandwiches! I instinctively reached down to the large, ice cold lemonade and took a big draw…but something wasn’t right! I rolled down the window and spit out the lemonade made, no doubt, with rotten lemons. Wait a second, that wasn’t lemonade, that was iced tea! I don’t like iced tea!

I’d love to tell you that I learned my lesson. That the $3 wasted was well worth the valuable lesson. But instead I’m sad to report I immediately flipped a U-turn and made my way back to McDonald’s, stormed inside with my iced tea and fish sandwich and demanded my correct order. And wouldn’t you know it, they bumped me up to a large fry for my trouble. McJustice? No, more like McStupidity on my part, I ate them all! Now, maybe next time I’ll have time for the trifecta, In-N-Out is just down the road.

Humbled at the 2009 Deseret News Marathon

2009-08-05T07:29:00.001-07:00

“Humility is like underwear, essential, but indecent if it shows.” – Helen Nielsen

I’m not really sure who Helen Nielsen is, and, to be honest, I’m not sure if this quote on humility speaks to my running of the 2009 Deseret News Marathon in Salt Lake City last week, but I like that humility was being compared to underwear so I went with it. The bottom line is, I was humbled.

Let me start off by saying that the race actually went quite well. On the positive note, the scenery was beautiful, I took 8^th in my age group and something like 68^th overall out of 500 or 600 runners. All that sounds swell. When friends and family ask me how I did, I’ve resigned myself to just say that it was a good run. I understand that to many people the overall times and per mile pace don’t mean squat. Running 26 miles is enough. But to the super running geeks of the world, hear me out, I was pretty disappointed and humbled by my effort and I’ll explain why.

Let me throw out some stats that will sound pretty arrogant, but again, this post is tailored to the runners who visit this site. And let me tell you, when I post a Lincoln Newsmessenger column (local newspaper I’ve been writing for now for over 10 years!) the traffic is good. But when I post a running-related column the traffic is A LOT more substantial. So this one, my running friends, is for you.

The Early Days

I used to be a marathon runner pure and simple. I’d run one a year, then I worked my way up to two, spacing them out every 6 months. I started my marathon career running just a hair under 4 hours per marathon (actually my first attempt at the marathon distance I made it 13.1 miles and ran into a Taco Bell and proceeded to eat and then throw up a breakfast burrito, a story for another day) and eventually worked my way down to a Boston-qualifying 3 hours and 14 minutes (qualified by one minute!). I then discovered ultra marathons (anything over 26.2 miles) and proceeded to go crazy running something like 14 ultras in 2 years, including a couple of 50 milers, a hundred miler, a 100k (62 miles) and a bunch of 50k’s. So, here comes the humbling part…a marathon, ONLY 26 miles, that’s a sprint, right! And so I thought.

Goals

I decided I’d set the goal of trying to do a sub-3 hour marathon at the upcoming St. George, UT marathon in early October. I figured all of my ultra training had provided me with a great base of miles to really do some damage at the “shorter” marathon distance. After my last ultra (the Miwok 100k) in May, I started doing some track work, a lot of tempo runs on pavement and I decided to jump into the Deseret News Marathon just to test the legs, see how that speed training was working out.

I had heard it was a tough course, a lot of downhill, altitude, you name it, but I’m an ultra runner! It’s just a marathon! I packed up the family unit and we made it a vacation coinciding with the state holiday of July 24^th, Pioneer Day, in Utah. We hit water parks (Cowabunga Bay) and theme parks (Lagoon). We ate, boy did we eat! My wife and I grew up in Utah so we hit all of our favorite restaurants. We ate at the Training Table (including cheese fries) twice, Café Rio, Su Casa, Cracker Barrel, it was wonderful! Who needs to carbo load, I’m an ultra runner! And, who needs sleep! The kids were excited and every night we stayed out late with friends and family. We had a great vacation.

Pre-race

The night before the marathon I hit the sack around 11 PM, alarm set for 2:10 AM. I actually did sleep a bit and figured I’d catch some sleep on the bus up to the starting line. We left at 3:45 AM from Energy Solutions Arena (where the Utah Jazz play). I had the good fortune, from a conversational standpoint, but not from a sleep standpoint, to sit beside a fellow ultra runner, Gary Holloway. Gary has run several 100’s, including the Western States 100 held in my backyard! We chatted the entire way up the canyon.

I had to add a paragraph here. I was relating the story of sitting by Gary to a couple of running friends this morning during a run and we dug in a bit deeper on what I actually experienced on the bus. First, yes, I wanted to sleep, but there was a small part of me…OK, a big part of me that wanted some rookie runner to sit by me and ask, “Have you ever run a marathon before?” To which I could play the role of marathon master and say that I’ve run 20 or 30 marathons and a dozen or more ultra marathons and then sit back and wax on about various races I’ve run and stretch out the details like “fish stories” (it was thhhiiiiiisss big!). “I remember during my 100 miler, it was 3 AM and my pacer was falling behind. I started sprinting…and then I saw an old lady crossing the street and I saved a puppy, AND a baby!”

So a guy sits down across from me before Gary came onto the bus. Sure enough, he was wearing a t-shirt from some 50 miler, so he, too, wanted to talk about his ultra running I’m sure. A girl sat by him and said these simple words, “So, have you run this before?” To which he replied, “Yes, I just hope my family makes it to the finish. They almost missed the finish of my 50 miler!” To which she fell right in line by exclaiming, “You ran 50 miles!” And he was off! So I was looking for my own version of that I’m sure, and I get a guy next to me who ran 4 100 mile races in the span of a few months (called the Grand Slam I believe. There’s a marathon Grand Slam in Utah, 4 marathons, and then there is a 100 mile Grand Slam, just amazing!)! But again, I was grateful to sit by Gary and hope to see him out there at some ultra in the not too distant future.

We arrived at the start and had an hour to kill so we found a spot and just kept talking. So let’s reset. I’m up some 6,000 feet (who cares about altitude!) on a severely downhill course (who needs quads?) going off of less than 3 hours sleep on a belly full of junk. Sounds like the perfect receipe for a sub-3, right!? Well, I factored all of that in and gave myself an extra 10 minutes. I figured I could get down the hill and across the line in 3:10 and told my family to look for me anywhere between 2:55 and 3:10. Famous last words.

The race started with a severe downhill and I tried holding back. My first three miles came in at 7:29, 6:57 and 7:00. I can’t lie, I could take at least 5 minutes off the day had I not been a bit over hydrated. The total pee count for the day was in double figures, I really need to figure out how to balance that a bit better.

Miles 4, 5 and 6 clocked in at 7:22, 7:14 and 7:39, not bad, but not the 6:52 per mile necessary for a sub-3 and not the 7:10 I was looking at to run a 3:10. We hit a big climb at some point during miles 4 and 5 so I was pretty happy with keeping that pace up a hill, but then again, that could have played into the fatigue later in the race.

Miles 7 and 8 were definitely a climb and those came in at 9:13 and 8:19. I found my rhythm again on the downhill and clocked 7:08, 7:48 and 7:09 miles up to mile 12. But again, I’m nowhere near sub-3 or 3:10 marathon pace! I carried a hand held water bottle from my ultra days so I was able to skip a few of the aid stations along the way which was nice. I made my first stop at mile 12 and it showed, an 8:12. Mile 13 was a 7:17 and I hit the halfway mark at 1:38, far off the 1:31 I ran during my Boston Qualifier in St. George in 2007.

I can’t lie, seeing the 1:38 and knowing I wasn’t going to make up any time kind of took a little wind out of my sails. From miles 14 to 20 I’d keep it respectable with 7:47, 7:34, 8:41 (water stop and pee stop!), 7:53, 9:05 (starting to walk through aid stations every other mile), 8:22 and 9:15.

At 20 miles in I was in a happy place, just not a real competitive place. My legs felt pretty good. I was passing people but I just couldn’t go fast! I started to just settle in and enjoy the race, not a bad thing, but I knew my family would think I fell apart.

Back in my marathon-only days, I inevitably hit “the wall” around 20 or 21 miles and my calves would get so tight! None of that this race. My thighs were sore from all the downhill, but I had felt worse. 21 through the end found me running mainly in the 9’s, 9:15, 9:49 and then an 8:01 (a nice downhill with spectators!) followed by a 10:02 (walked through an aid station) and then a 9:01, 9:04 and 9:59 to finish things off. Well, an 8:33 pace for the last .2.

A lot of numbers, I know, but in looking back at them they weren’t all that bad. I finished at 3:36:26 good for, I believe, 68^th place, 8^th in my age group. I had an overall average of 8:13 per mile, a full minute per mile slower than I had hoped for.

One addition here as I’m re-reading this before posting. I don’t believe I’ll be able to explain this as well as it rolls around in my head, but I’ll try. I kept feeling this odd feeling every time I made it to the bottom of the hill like I was on a bike, and I’m not a cyclist, that I should be able to coast for a bit on the flat sections. I felt like I should be able to use my momentum from all that downhill running to my benefit. But when you are running, you have to, well, keep running! I know it sounds pretty obvious, but it was just an odd feeling and it kept coming back to me over and over, not sure where that came from and I’ve never experienced it before. I’m guessing it’s from all the steep downhill, my legs (and mind) just got used to running downhill so flats just felt…different! Now, back to the story.

I felt fine after and we continued with the vacation later that day with no real ill effects. I was plenty sore the next day, but none of that old walking down the stairs backwards routine. I was able to run again a few days later.

So I’m an optimist, and the optimist in me says that it’s good to get humbled, especially before my “A” race. But is a sub-3 still in the cards for St. George? Hard to say! I think I’ll give it a shot out of the gate and then hold on until the end and see what happens! And hope that the words “indecent” and “underwear” don’t come into play in any way, shape or form.