2018 Goals // Update

In an effort to combat the planning fallacy, I went into 2018 with only a handful of goals (which are outlined at the end of my 2017 re-cap) in order to make achieving them much more likely. Now that we are about one-third done with the year, I thought I would give a status update.

Goal 1: Read 2 Books of Month. So far, I’ve kept pace with this goal and have completed 9 books. Here is a short recap with a Siskel and Ebert thumbs up/down review (note: you should be able to find all these books from your local library).

Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer: A first-hand re-telling of a mid-nineties Everest disaster that claimed 8 lives when an abrupt change of weather caught several expeditions off-guard. What fascinated me most about this book was the in-depth look at the logistics of climbing Everest (from selecting the gear to navigating the  route to the ins-and-outs of high-altitude acclimation). Additionally, Krakauer approaches the retelling of the disaster in a matter-of-fact, journalistic way that leaves you in awe how any rational person would willingly choose to attempt the climb (in fact, Krakauer mentions that in order to try the climb you probably are a little crazy to begin with…). <Thumbs Up>

The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat by Oliver Sacks: Breakout novel of the famed — and recently deceased — neurologist Oliver Sacks. The novel itself is composed of a series of interesting medical cases detailing some of the most extreme behaviors due to brain abnormalities (either through accidents, drugs, or other measures). Each vignette is interesting on its own and most provide some sort of insight into our daily behaviors. Of particular personal interest was the story of “The Twins” who, despite their significant mental deficiencies, could calculate large prime numbers. <Thumbs  Up>

Welcome to the Club by Raquel D’Apice: A humorous look at “100 Parenting Milestones” that every parent can relate to. Ranging from the significant (“First Time You Hold Your Baby”) to the trivial (“First Time You Hold Your Baby Over Your Head and He Vomits All Over You”), each milestone is a hoot to read and, more times than not, is something that, if you are a parent, you have truly experienced. <Thumbs Up for Current Parents>

A Happy Death by Albert Camus: A precursor to Camus’s The Stranger, this book seems more ripped from a sketchbook than a finished project. Although I appreciate the parallels with my quest towards Financial Independence (after all, what could make people more happy than stripping away their dependency on money — albeit, I’d choose a better way than murder!), overall, I found the book lacking in impact. <Thumbs Down>

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris: This was surprisingly the first David Sedaris book I’ve ever read and I found it to be a delight. Similar to The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, this book is a collect of stories loosely centered around two autobiographical eras: Sedaris’s youth and his move to France during adulthood. Each story seems to be more hilarious than the previous (with my personal favorite being his fascination with finding the French translations of some very specific words about anatomy) and, if you like witty dialog, you’re sure to like this book. <Thumbs Up>

What Do You Care What Other People Think by Richard Feynman: I liked famed physicist’s Richard Feynman’s previous book Surely You’re Joking Mr. Feynman a lot so I figured I’d give this one a try. Let me just say that if you are expecting a sequel you are going to be sorely disappointed. There are some interesting stories but they are few and far between. The majority of the book deals with Feynman’s work on determining the root cause of the Space Shuttle Challenger’s mid-air explosion which is very long-winded and filled with pointless conversations about minutia that don’t amount to much. (Tl;dr: the O-ring became misshapen due to the low temperature at launch which led to a faulty seal). <Thumbs Down>

The Sebastopol Sketches by Leo Tolstoy: Although the Introduction was a bit of a snooze fest, the actual writings of Tolstoy chronicling the Siege of Sebastopol during the Crimean War of the 1850s was surprisingly riveting. Detailing three distinct parts during the siege (December 1854, May 1855, and August 1855), Tolstoy goes from hyper-patriotism regarding the conflict to utter-despondency, questioning the whole point of the war. <Thumbs Up>

Despair by Vladimir Nabokov: Despair is probably one of Nabokov’s most straight-forward, plot-driven novel that he wrote. Centered around a bizarre case of insurance fraud, the novel is a fictional first person retelling (albeit highly biased narration) of a murder-gone-wrong. The book is pretty gripping (the planning and orchestration of the deed leaves you wondering how things could go so wrong!) and has an unusual ending. <Thumbs Up>

Mary by Vladimir Nabokov: Nabokov’s first novel is more like a short story chronicling a coincidental love triangle. What I like most about Nabokov is his inventive and descriptive language — and although his first novel possesses some of these features, it’s certainly better in later works (with my personal favorite being Ada or Ardor). <Thumbs Down -unless you are a Nabokov fanboy like myself>

Goal 2: Run 1000 miles: Definitely have fallen demonstrably short of this goal. The math works out that I should have logged about 295 miles so far, but my Strava shows I’ve only ran a total of 117 miles — a discrepancy of 178 miles! Part of this is due to my re-aggravating my groin injury earlier in the year, but it’s mostly due to my inability to find time to go out for a run. Recently, I’ve picked up the pace a little (running about 41 miles so far in April), but 1000 total miles by the end of the year might be a little out of reach.

Goal 3: Better Time Management: This is definitely not a S.M.A.R.T. Goal as it’s difficult to measure, but I feel like I’ve done a much better job this year. I keep a active note on my phone highlighting my weekly to-do list and recently every Sunday I physically sketch out the week ahead on a printed calendar that gives me a better idea of my available time for each day. I’d give myself a solid “B” grade when it came to improving my time management skills.

Goal 4 (Added): Math Practice: Came to this goal a little late to include in my year-end wrap-up post, but I wanted to become a better math test writer (either through my work with Number Sense or through other, more challenging, competitions). I’ve done a fair amount of work on improving my Number Sense Manual and have begun reviewing some math problem solving books I purchased long ago during my competition days in order to give me guidance (and inspiration!) for my own test writing. Currently, I am engrossed in Paul Zeitz’s The Art and Craft of Problem Solving which is a good book for any aspiring math competitors out there.

Well that about does it! Will check back in over the summer to detail my progress — after all, it has been shown in academic research that making public declarations of your goals (and subsequent progress reports) leads to higher probability that you will achieve them!

Buffalo Run 50-Miler // Race Recap

Buffalo Run 50 Miler

Name: Buffalo Run
Date: March 18, 2017
Distance: 50 Miles
Location: Antelope Island, Utah
Finishing Time: 9 hours 40 minutes (22 out of 85)

Now that it’s been a couple of weeks since the race and I’ve fully recovered, I thought I would share in a long-winded post a recap of my first 50-Miler:

Going into it, the two goals I wanted to achieve were (1) Finish the race within the cut-off time of 12 hours and 30 minutes, (2) Finish under 10 hours. Since I have never run this far before, I thought finishing would be quite the accomplishment, so I set that as my primary goal. After my two training runs on the island, I was able to determine a reasonable pace time which would put me into the finish at around the 10 hours mark, so I made that my stretch goal. So, obviously, I wasn’t trying to break any course records and go as fast as I could — I was more focused on survival!

The night before the race I packed up everything I ever thought I might need. In typical fashion I over-packed both my hydration vest that I wore the whole trip as well as my two drop bags. I tried to cover every contingency I could imagine (what if the aid stations really didn’t have sunscreen; what if I eat way more than I have scheduled; what if I want to change socks more frequently), but after the race I quickly came to the realization that I should have only carried a couple of chew bars, a bladder of water half-full, and a change of shirts and socks, mostly because the aid stations were so exceptionally prepared!

The start time was at 6:00am on the island which was about an hour drive from my house. I woke up at about 3:30am so that I could eat a light breakfast, get my first coat of sunscreen on, and pack everything up. I made it to the start line about 45 minutes early right around the time the first 100 Miler participants crossed the finishing line (in about 17 hours and 30 minutes). Needless to say, that gave me a shot of inspiration seeing them!

At the start, the weather was cool, so I was wearing a lightweight long-sleeved shirt, shorts, high socks, hat, and headlamp. The weather forecast showed that it was going to be heating up well into the 70s, so I had a couple of t-shirts and ankle socks in my drops bags at the 19 mile mark and the 28/38 mile mark (it was an aid station on an out and back). All the runners lined up — I estimated about 100 of them — and the race director (who was quite the hoot, by the way), drew a line in the sand and counted down the seconds until the start. 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1 – and we’re off!

You can see from the elevation profile that the first 8 miles had most of the climbing for the whole race. I intentionally took it slow — which was hard to do when you have fresh legs and have all the excitement of the start of the race coursing through your body.  In hindsight, I attribute the “success” I had with the race mostly on this strategy. Looking at my Strava, you can tell that some of my slowest running miles within the first 2/3rds of the race came during those first few miles (note: anything over a 15 min/mile was a stop at an aid station). The sunrise was slated for around 7:30am, so I had a goal of at least completing the out-and-back to Elephant Head (mile marker 9 // 1 hr 33 min) — an elevated look-out point to the west-side of the Great Salt Lake — by then. Sure enough, I hit that goal, but it was still too dark to get rid of my headlamp as we made our way for a brief downhill section into a second climb marked by switchbacks. Again, being conservative and saving my legs, I decided on a run-a-switchback-walk-a-switchback strategy for the quick 700 feet ascent. After that, it was smooth sailing for the rest of the Split Rock Bay loop (mile marker 14 // 2 hr 25 min) and I began heading back to the start/finish line (mile marker 19 // 3 hr 11 min).

I had a drop bag at the start/finish line where I changed out of my high socks, switched to a short sleeve shirt, ate half a cliff bar, and dropped off my headlamp before heading out to do the trails on the east-side of the island. I was surprised how well my legs were feeling (from my training runs, fatigue started to creep in at around this point) and I was motivated for the next short section (up to mile marker 21.5 // 3 hr 41 min) as I had my family waiting for me there! Much to my surprise, it was quite the welcoming crew from my wife, baby daughter, and parents-in-law who brought some really creative signs and cheered me on as I came into the aid station. I spent a good 10 minutes there chatting with them about the race thus far and how relieved I was to make it through the elevation feeling relatively good. The conditions of the trail was exceptional — a little sandy at points, but otherwise very compact dirt — and the cool weather was holding up well up until that point due to the cloud cover. I was pretty confident I was going to be able to achieve my primary goal of finishing and my pace thus far was spot on for a sub-10 hour finish, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up because I figured anything could happen with such a long race. I bid my farewells and gave them a prospective time of when I would arrive at the next major aid station (mile marker 33) where I could see them.

From my training runs, I knew that the next stretch would be a grind: a 20 mile out-and-back on flat terrain hugging the east coast of the island. What makes it hard is that you can see for miles and miles, so it’s difficult to be encouraged by your progress as it might take you hours to reach a point behind a nubby peninsula that you spotted a while back. Additionally, this is the part where my legs started to get a little tired and, because the terrain wasn’t too varying, I wasn’t as distracted by the scenery so I started focusing on how tired I was getting. I had a drop bag at the Lower Fray section of the out-and-back (mile marker 27.5 // 4 hr 54 min) where I spent a few minutes to rest and refocus myself. I ate a quesadilla triangle with some bacon and drank some Coke and was feeling better about myself. Knowing that I was 5 miles away from seeing my family helped out a lot too. The temperatures were starting to climb and a little bit of a headwind started to creep in, but I powered through and made it to the Ranch House (mile marker 33 // 5 hr 59 min), somehow below my best-case-scenario time of 6 hours. Again, I spent a fair amount of time at the aid station visiting with family and three of my friends (one of which was volunteering at the station) and resting my legs. Typically, I don’t like sitting down during these long runs, but I was feeling close to my “race nadir” at that point and decided that a little break off my legs certainly couldn’t hurt anything. At this point in time I was 100% certain I would finish below cut-off (I could just walk the rest of the way and make it) and, after doing some mental calculations, knew that the 10 hour mark was well within my ability. This was a strong motivating fact for the remainder of the race.

Again, bidding my family and friends adieu, I told them I’d see them at the finish line — hopefully sometime around 3:30pm to 4:00pm. I collected myself and headed off. Within a few hundred yards of leaving I past a runner who was running the 100 Mile race in full fireman regalia (long yellow pants/shirt, hard hat, and oxygen tank). I learned that he was raising funds to help pay for one of his friend’s cancer treatment — a truly remarkable act of friendship. This served as a secondary motivating thought, knowing that if this guy had the strength in him to run 100 miles dressed like that, at the very least I can do half the distance outfitted in the latest-and-greatest gear.

Between the Ranch House and the end of the long out-and-back (mile marker 44 // 8 hr 25 min), a lot of it was a blur. My running was strong as I would consistently pass people along the way, but I spent relatively long periods of time at the aid stations, allowing those same people to catch up. We yo-yoed like this for a while up until we started the homestretch for the finish line. Again, my legs were in surprisingly good shape (although they got a little killed on the final hill at the 45 mile mark!) and could pretty much consistently “run” the last 5 miles. I reached the final aid station (mile mark 46 // 8 hr 52 min) in good time and I knew I was going to break 10 hours — I just didn’t know by how much.

This last stretch was a bit rocky, so I had to be careful not to land wrong on my foot or stub my toes. I took it more slowly than what I was probably able to as I didn’t want to jeopardize my 10 hour finish. After rounding the northwest corner on the Lakeside Trail, I could see the finish line. It was only here when I began to let my mind wonder and to start thinking about how I was actually going to finish. Like a race of any distance, the last section is always the hardest as you begin to come to grips how exhausted you are and you get a little antsy to finish. This race was no exception. Arguably, the hardest mile was the last one for me as I had the finish in my sights but knew it was still sometime away — I just couldn’t move so I walked probably a third of it. As I rounded the final corner, I gathered myself and pushed it as hard as I could to end on a high note. I caught my family and friends a little bit off-guard (I don’t think they were expecting me so soon!) and I kind-of lost it once I saw my wife and baby there right before the finish line. Crossing the line and hearing how I finished at 9 hours 40 minutes — an exceptionally long amount of time to be exercising — really made me realize how crazy this day was and how proud I was of my performance!

As a whole, I felt pretty good afterwards. I knew I was going to lose a couple of toenails and got a few inconvenient blisters, but as a whole I felt about as good as when I ran my 55km race in Iceland. This race was a bellwether for me to see if I wanted to continue to run 50 Mile races and whether or not I could see myself doing a 100 Miler. As a whole, I am optimistic! I think I will do another 50 Miler in the Fall and, depending on how that goes, sign up for a 100 Miler next year.

I can’t say enough about how well this race was managed and the kindness of all the volunteers who took a large chunk of their time out of the weekend to help — in any way possible — a bunch of people like myself complete in a crazy race. For anyone on the fence about running ultras, I would definitely recommend this race as there are a few distance options (25km, 50km, 50 Mile, 100 Mile) and terrain is very conducive to a good finish.

Here’s to hoping to hit the trails soon!

50-Mile Running Training Plan

So in about 2 months I’ll be running the 50-Mile Buffalo Run on Antelope Island. To better prepare, I’ve switched to using Hal Koerner’s 50-Mile training plan — lasting a grueling 16 weeks — as my loose guide which has become very challenging both from an effort and time commitment standpoint. This is my first time to follow a a regimented training plan (my typical “training” just consisted of my running as long as felt like, whenever I felt like it!) and, like some fellow ultra-marathon redditors have mentioned, I have mixed opinions.

The pros of following this training plan are:

  • Uses the power of guilt as a motivating factor (have you kept up with what you are suppose to keep up with?)
  • The back-to-back long runs help you experience what it’s like to run on tired legs
  • Running 50 miles (or more) requires putting in a hefty amount of miles per week; this training plan helps you schedule it as best as humanly possible

The cons of following the plan is:

  • Like one redditor mentioned, I think it is extremely difficult to keep up with 60-70 miles per week and not get injured. Most of my more recent miles come in the form of trail running in snow. One false move and you can easily turn an ankle leaving you out an indeterminate amount of time in recovery (which, of course, happened to me)
  • Needs more hills. A lot more hills. I feel like 5 miles of uphill is comparable to a half marathon of flat running. Additionally, most long distance trail races encompasses a lot of elevation, so having hill training is crucial
  • More rest days after back-to-back long runs. I feel like one day is hardly enough recovery time after running up to 50 miles (Week 12) in two outings.

I must admit that after following the plan thus far, I am in the best shape I have ever been prior to a race. I’ve grown accustomed to the daily 6 to 10 mile weekday runs — enough that it isn’t much effort to accomplish anymore. The second of the long runs are still killer and I’m relatively weak on the uphills, but I feel that I can close that effort gap before race day in a few months. Will keep you posted!

50-Miler Ultra // 3 Months Out

We’re three months out from my ultra-marathon, so I thought I’d give a quick update on the training:

  • I’ve been using the Boise Foothills 50k Frenzy training schedule (speaking of a race I want to run…!) as a “loose guide” — I’ve never been one to follow strictly to a running regiment, but it does give you a little insight that you are (or aren’t!) at a point where you should be.
  • Been consistently running 5 – 6 days a week; averaging 25 – 30 miles per week. So according to the schedule, I’m a little ahead of what is required for a 50k trail run, so I’m feeling pretty good.
  • Longest run has been a 13.0 miles where I did it in 1:45 (it was under optimal conditions).
  • Lately, conditions in Salt Lake City have been snowy/rainy, so my trail times have slipped from ~8:30 min/mile to ~10 min/mile. I think I’m going to upgrade my YakTraxs to Microspikes to provide better grip on snow as this seems to be a reoccurring problem with my running.

Here’s a screengrab (since Nike makes it impossible to share your Activity Page) of my latest trail run on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail:

12-10-2016 Run

Anyways, looking forward to hitting the trails more in the winter!

Antelope Island Buffalo Run // 50 Mile Race

So I have been a pretty active runner for the past 15 years, completing in a handful of marathons and one ultramarathon — a 55-kilometer trail race in Iceland last year. Recently, I decided to take a plunge and start running even longer distances as I feel more equipped for endurance rather than speed.

For my first 50-miler, I chose the local Antelope Island Buffalo Run. Antelope Island is a Utah state park that is situated in the middle of the Great Salt Lake. I ran a portion of the east-side of the island a couple of years back for the Layton Marathon and it was incredibly scenic and even caught a glimpse of a buffalo herd! You can check out the coarse map for the 50-mile race below (for perspective, the north/south distance shown of the island is about 12 miles):

Race Course

The start/finish is denoted by the large green dot, major landmarks (e.g. trailhead starts or major aid stations) are shown in yellow and the course itself is in red. There are several out-and-backs and short loops of popular island hikes — the longest of which is about a 20 miler out-and-back on the east-side. What’s nice is that the 100-miler race is just the 50-miler done twice, so I know that I’ll be able to see everything that a 100-miler finisher will see!

As for the elevation profile, it’s not too crazy. I think there is about 3,800 total feet of climbing which is mostly concentrated at the start:

Elevation Profile

(Note: Both the 50-miler and 100-miler profiles are shown above)

The race day is Saturday, March 18th and I’ll have a full 12.5 hours to complete the course before cut-off — this works out to be a 15 min/mile which should be easily do-able. I’ll make some posts later on about some of my preparation to give better insight to what long distance running is all about!