Ultra-Training Update

Let me bring you up to speed on my ultra-training…

I’m training for my first 100-mile race at the end of July. I’ve finished a couple waves of training and things are progressing nicely.  I’m learning a lot.  My body is figuring things out.

Initially there was a steep learning curve on these really long runs.  Frankly this training is different from anything I’ve done in a long time.  I’m a different athlete than I was the last time I tried this.  It’s a new journey.  There is yet some undiscovered country in me.  The 100 miles scares me.  I think that’s a good thing.

Across these two waves of training I’ve ramped up 20, 25, 30, 35 and most recently 40 miles on Saturday.  Then I follow up with 10 or 15 miles on Sunday to simulate running on tired legs.

The 20 miles was a piece of cake.  I had just rolled off a road marathon cycle so this wasn’t much of a stretch.  There was a minor adjustment to all trail running from the road but I welcomed it as spring stretched its kind fingers across New England.

This was the bucolic transition I was looking for.  Ditch the hard step up runs and speed work of the marathon for calm, soft, slow miles in the forest.  A bit of sylvan meditation.  Right?  Well I think my expectations of long woodland meditation sessions may have been a bit Pollyanna.

The 25-mile weekend I opted to run a 21-mile mountain race instead.  The distance wasn’t a problem and the weather was cool – so I finished without a problem.  On the other hand, it was a very challenging and technical course with a lot of elevation gain and loss. I ended up very sore, unreasonably sore, the week following.  Especially my quads from the down hills.  That made me wonder about the yawning gap between 21 miles and 100 miles.

That next weekend I had my first real challenge which was a 30-mile trail run.  I made the mistake of approaching it like any other long run and just running it.  It was a hot and humid day. I crashed miserably and had to quit at 20 miles.

This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.  It necessitated a reconsideration of my strategies and tactics.  I was forced to figure a new way to approach these log runs, not just physically but mentally.

I had to clear the decks of my marathoning assumptions and start thinking on a different scale of time and distance.  How to spread that available physical and mental energy out over 7 or 8 or 9 hours of running?  I had to wind up and give my expectations a mental slap across the face.  This was more than a larking long run in the woods.  This was going to require some, dare I say it, work.

People will often give the advice in ultra-running to “run when you can and walk when you have to”.  I have not found that to be a successful strategy for me.  Because I CAN run a marathon.  But if I run that marathon at the front end of a 100 miler it leaves me with nothing left for another 75 miles.  That’s not a smart way to approach the distance.

Likewise, here’s an uncomfortable truth about 100 miles, there is no strategy that is going to allow you to spread the effort over the distance in such a way that everything is sunshine, rainbows and unicorns.  You’re going to be uncomfortable at some point.

At some point it will suck.  And it will not suck for a few minutes, like in a 10K.  It will suck for hours on end.  The kind of grinding discomfort that requires a new mental state.  Your training goal is to limit the length and depth of that suck and to acclimate to it.

After failing the humid 30 miler I was looking at a humid 35 miler next.  I performed a reassessment and a mental reset.  I backed way off on my speed and effort.  I purposely started working in a 1-minute walk break every 5 minutes, from the start.  This allowed me to stretch out the energy level across the distance.  Give ground early and survive the day.  Every time the Garmin said ‘5’ or ‘0’ I was walking.

The 35-mile run still was awful, especially in the humidity, but I was able to get it done.  Physically I slowed it way down.  Mentally I had to adjust my expectations too. The last 5-10 miles were a master class in running to the suck.

Mentally I had to shift my perspective.  When the distance gets high and the duration gets long you have to stop thinking about finishing.  You have to be present in the run.  It doesn’t matter how much you have left.  You can’t think that way.  The misery of stumbling through those final miles gets compounded if you let you brain wander to when you will be finished.

I made a point of not scheduling anything else for that Saturday.  My wife and I had conversations like:

“Can you go to the bank for me on Saturday?”

“No, I’m running Saturday.”

“Can’t you go after your run?”

“No, you don’t understand, I’m Running Saturday…”

Once I made these physical and mental adjustments I was able to finish. It still sucked, but as my ultra-runner friends told me “It’s always going to suck.  Embrace the suck.”

Another thing that I had to adjust was my lubrication strategy.  I don’t care how tough your skin is, 7+ hours of running in the humidity is going to chafe you raw.  I lost skin in places that I have never had chafing before. You have to stay on top of it because once you’ve got the raw skin it can’t really be fixed.  You can put more lube on but now it’s mixing with the salt and sweat.

Here’s the learning point.  You can keep running with raw, bleeding patches of skin.  It just sucks and you keep moving.  It becomes one of the long list of things that you push out of your mind and keep going.  All these things subside into a dull background noise of misery.  And you keep moving.

I couldn’t help thinking about ancient armies that force-marched hundreds of miles.  Alexander’s hoplites carrying bronze weapons and armor across the deserts of Persia with nothing but sandals, linen and wool under garments.  Hannibal driving his guys across the Alps.  Patton force-marching those grunts in leather and wool.

Those guys were tough.  I can’t even keep my skin on my body with all my technical gear and fancy body lube.

Moving into the last, 40-mile training run, I was a bit pensive.  That 35 hadn’t been easy.  Now I was laying another hour or so of running on top.  And that’s what the math works out to for me with these long runs.  Just about 5 miles per hours.  That would get you yanked out of some respectable marathons.  That would get you swept off a 10K course.

Here’s the epiphany.  The 40 was easier than the 35.  My body has started to adapt.  I rolled the mental and physical adjustments from the 35 into the 40 and it wasn’t too bad.  The first 20 miles were a positive joy.  I felt strong and light.  The last 5-10 miles were hard, and I was tired, but I wasn’t struggling like I had in earlier runs.

When I got back I didn’t have to fall on the floor and sleep for 2 hours like the previous runs.

The 15 miler the next day was a challenge.  I didn’t feel too bad, but I was obviously fatigued because I was dragging my toes and I fell about 6 times.  Falling in the technical trails can be detrimental to your health.  My hands are a bit bruised and my knees are cut up but nothing serious.

Part of the difference was that the day wasn’t as humid.  The humidity really gets to me.  It really feels like my body is adapting.  Adapting to the distance, the time, the heat and the fueling.

My legs aren’t sore the day after.  I don’t get sore like I would from a marathon or a hard workout.  It’s more of a fatigue or tiredness then a soreness.  Knock on wood, I have no real joint pain or tendonitis from all these miles.

Still a lot of chaffing.  My feet get pretty beat up.  I haven’t gotten any blisters yet but I’m sure that’s something I’ll get to!  I haven’t gotten sick during the runs, although I have had brief waves of light nausea in the heat.

I’ve figured out some longer loops in my trails around my house.  I’ve got a 10+ mile loop and a 20-mile loop.  I can go about 17-18 miles in the heat with one 24-oz handheld and a full backpack.

I’m still figuring out what to take for nutrition.  It’s not really for fuel as much as it is to keep your blood sugar up.  If your blood sugar crashes it makes you feel miserable.  When you have those mental low points it’s typically because you need to eat.

That’s it.  I’m sitting out about 6 weeks from the race and I feel like my body is coming around.  I’ve done more miles in training than I ever have before.

Your body figures it out.