I sit two days removed from the Malibu Creek 22K and I am little worse for wear. My feet are swollen, my calves hurt so bad that I can barely walk without limping. I reflect a bit and realize just how hard I pushed myself at the race. I realize just how lucky I am because in all seriousness I could have had a heat stroke possibly kidney failure from pushing as hard as I did. My hands were swollen after the race and when I got home, I weighed myself and realized I lost 6 pounds. These are all signs of pushing way too hard and now my body is pushing back. Is there ever a time when you have to say enough during a race? There is but I always believed that when I reach that point, I would say F%#* you and just keep on going but on Saturday there were moments in that race that I felt something else and it was a bit of doubt and fear that I may have pushed too much but I still pushed on? That is what separates some of us who are determined to do whatever it takes to run a race and get to the finish line where most don’t see the point and I wouldn’t expect them to from their living room sofa. Running is an addiction like any other addiction. Think about it.
Runner’s run in the rain, 90-100 degree weather, they run in the snow, they run inside on treadmills, they run outside on hills. Runner’s run when they are sick, runner’s run when they are hungover. Runner’s run to run and runner’s run for fun. The worst thing for a runner is to have an injury because they will try to run through it only to make things worse. Why, why, why? Because it is an addiction like those who need that last cigarette, or that last sip of whiskey. You need to have it, you need to do it, no matter the condition, the consequence and when you can’t, you are miserable and unhappy. I have come to grips with the fact that my addiction will someday kill me but at least I will die doing something I love doing and that is competing and enjoying my life.
Running is free but the pain could last a lifetime!
Monday, May 20, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
You think you know what hills feel like?
In 2005, I ran my first trail race which was the Malibu Creek 6k. Very few people ran trails back then and my only experience on the trails was a little bit of hiking that felt like a monumental task. When I did the 6k, it seemed like I had just accomplished a something great but about 20 minutes after, the fast runners who had run the 22k race started to cross the finish line. When I saw a guy cross the finish line with only one arm, I realized though the 6k was a tough race, I had done nothing and felt pretty small at that moment yet I still had no real desire to run the 22k. People always say things like “you’ve run a marathon so you should be fine” which shows just how little people know about trails and the extreme difficulty of the race. I decided in 2011 that I could longer just run the 6k at Malibu and that it was time to try the 22k. I guess it was the fear of the unknown that kept from running it but I figured how hard could it really be? I mean after all, I could run 26 miles and 14 miles seems like nothing but I found out in 2011 that this race, this trail, and all its challenges were more than I could have imagined in terms of difficulty and yesterday I lined up again to run this race that had just about took everything I had to just make it 6 miles.
What is the big deal about the Malibu race? One word; Bulldog! Bulldog is the climb at mile 3 of the race that seems like you are running with a piano strapped to your back that is if you can run it. If you manage to make it to the top around mile 5.6 or so then you get some downhill relief to mile 7 until you have to run back up for another mile. This up and down sequence continues until mile 9 where you feel like you can run up no more and thank God because you start an insane downhill run until hitting mile 12 where you exit out of Malibu Creek State park to run along the highway for a minute then enter back into the park. You would think, “cool, if I can just hang on, I will be at the finish in no time”. Sorry, because mile 13 is back up and nasty incline where you need every ounce of strength and energy to just move your legs and feet. When you reach the top, you go back down a series of switchbacks until you reach the roach where you have a nice 4 minute run to the finish.
2011, I sucked, 2012 I was no better, and yesterday may have been my worst performance at the race. I think I was toast about 10 minutes into the climb up Bulldog. You things are bad when you can’t pass people twice your age or better yet, they are passing you. I chatted with this guy Spencer who said it was his first time running the race but he had hike Kilamanjaro but none of that matter yesterday because he was crawling his way up bulldog like everyone else. If the incline wasn’t enough, the sun came out and it felt like it was a 102 degrees. I knew I was in trouble because I was drenched. I lost way too many fluids and I had another two miles until the top. I felt my spirit say this is it. I am not going to make it up this trail today. My legs ached, my back ached, and I just wanted to stop. I kept pushing and pushing and when we hit the top and I began to run downhill, I felt my calve twinge and if you have ever felt that twinge in your muscles then you know that it is only a matter of time before the real cramps start. From mile 6 until the finish line, I cramped up but I just tried to run through it. When we started the crazy run downhill from mile 9 I thought I would be able to make up ground but the cramps kept coming. I ignored them and ran hard but when it was time to run back up before exiting the park, my legs locked and I looked like Frankenstein running from a mob. When I eventually crossed the finish line, I could care less about time, medals, or anything. I just wanted a beer and off to the beer garden I went where there were an assortment of runners chilling and relaxing and equally sharing their war stories from the race.
I left this race once again just humbled and understanding that I have a ton of work to do. I came to the race hoping to knock off 30 minutes form my previous time but I ended up adding to my time. Trails are work and to be successful on the trails you have to put in the time and you have to want to run the hills. It is the only way to get better. I have a long way to go but I am up to the challenge.
Back to the drawing board.
What is the big deal about the Malibu race? One word; Bulldog! Bulldog is the climb at mile 3 of the race that seems like you are running with a piano strapped to your back that is if you can run it. If you manage to make it to the top around mile 5.6 or so then you get some downhill relief to mile 7 until you have to run back up for another mile. This up and down sequence continues until mile 9 where you feel like you can run up no more and thank God because you start an insane downhill run until hitting mile 12 where you exit out of Malibu Creek State park to run along the highway for a minute then enter back into the park. You would think, “cool, if I can just hang on, I will be at the finish in no time”. Sorry, because mile 13 is back up and nasty incline where you need every ounce of strength and energy to just move your legs and feet. When you reach the top, you go back down a series of switchbacks until you reach the roach where you have a nice 4 minute run to the finish.
2011, I sucked, 2012 I was no better, and yesterday may have been my worst performance at the race. I think I was toast about 10 minutes into the climb up Bulldog. You things are bad when you can’t pass people twice your age or better yet, they are passing you. I chatted with this guy Spencer who said it was his first time running the race but he had hike Kilamanjaro but none of that matter yesterday because he was crawling his way up bulldog like everyone else. If the incline wasn’t enough, the sun came out and it felt like it was a 102 degrees. I knew I was in trouble because I was drenched. I lost way too many fluids and I had another two miles until the top. I felt my spirit say this is it. I am not going to make it up this trail today. My legs ached, my back ached, and I just wanted to stop. I kept pushing and pushing and when we hit the top and I began to run downhill, I felt my calve twinge and if you have ever felt that twinge in your muscles then you know that it is only a matter of time before the real cramps start. From mile 6 until the finish line, I cramped up but I just tried to run through it. When we started the crazy run downhill from mile 9 I thought I would be able to make up ground but the cramps kept coming. I ignored them and ran hard but when it was time to run back up before exiting the park, my legs locked and I looked like Frankenstein running from a mob. When I eventually crossed the finish line, I could care less about time, medals, or anything. I just wanted a beer and off to the beer garden I went where there were an assortment of runners chilling and relaxing and equally sharing their war stories from the race.
I left this race once again just humbled and understanding that I have a ton of work to do. I came to the race hoping to knock off 30 minutes form my previous time but I ended up adding to my time. Trails are work and to be successful on the trails you have to put in the time and you have to want to run the hills. It is the only way to get better. I have a long way to go but I am up to the challenge.
Back to the drawing board.
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