On Wednesday night of last week as I lay in my tent, a wave of tremors, cold chills, and body aches came over me. I pulled on my boots along with my thickest hoodie and tried to sleep it off, I had a 25 mile road run on tap for the morning and suddenly, the Vermont 100 just two weeks away.
Since pacing my friend Jeremy in his stellar 2012 performance at Vermont I've wanted to run this race. I didn't expect this years registration to fill as quickly as it did and I ended up with my name at the rear end of the waiting list. I e-mailed the director to inquire about my chances of getting in and her (always prompt) response was: Highly unlikely. I might want to consider the 100k or plan for next year. But she'd keep me posted.
With these odds in mind I didn't give much thought to the race and put the Hampshire 100k and The Pine Creek Challenge 100 miler down as my goal races for 2013. I began camping full time back in June to train.
Flash forward to a rough race at Wapack and Back, a series of 20-25 mile redemption runs with the Hampshire 100k on my mind, and the fact that I'm living at Bradbury Mountain and biking 15-20 miles a day, every day, on top of my running starting to pay dividends. Flash forward to an out of left field e-mail from Julie two weeks ago. Congratulations! You've been accepted into the 2013 Vermont 100!
I immediately began reaching out to friends in my tight knit trail running community for training advice and resources while sourcing out every opportunity to make this small adventure happen. These are some of the best people that I know and their supportive responses only reaffirmed that fact. A dream race was suddenly in sight and I began running harder than hard. After a series of good trail runs culminating in a 6 hour mix of hills, roots, rocks, and roads I was feeling good. Flash forward to me shaking in my tent on July 3rd bundled up like it was January 3rd, feeling bad.
I woke that morning a little behind schedule, rushed down a quick breakfast (had to go without coffee,and everyone knows that you can't run without coffee), filled my bottles and hit the road. I couldn't tell if what hit me the previous night had moved on but the next 25 miles would reveal. And if I were really sick my amazing partner Jes, whose house I was running to in South Portland, would scoop me up. I had my cellphone in my Northface waist belt along with a $20 bill. And hey, it was the Fourth of July.
I used the high and humid temps to explain away how badly I was feeling, and how poorly I was running. But by mile 4 I was legitimately thinking of turning around and saving my legs for another day when I could actually do something with them. Finally I decided that suffering through a hot stretch of road with absolutely no energy would surely be a part of the VT 100 if I ran it and this would be as good a training opportunity as any. Plus, I had a bunch of festivities to run through in nearby Freeport, an easy afternoon with my lady to look forward to when this thing was done.
I made it 16 miles before a combination of hydration issues, a strange stiffness in my neck, and the extreme fatigue that I'd been battling all morning caused my to pull out the cell phone and make the call. I told Jes I'd meet her near the Martins Point Bridge in Portland 4 miles away to give her time prepare and to round the run out to an even 20.
Afterwards we went to one of our favorite cafe's to eat but I could barley get anything down. My appetite picked up a bit later on and then died out completely. For the next several days.
By Friday night I was getting worried as I was suffering from fever, chills, a migraine headache, and an inexplicable pain in my neck and hip. I was also beyond fatigued. As I cooked another dinner on the grill that I wouldn't be able to eat I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration-and there I found it. An engorged tick buried in the crown of my head.
Upon removing it, and realizing that it had likely been there since at least Wednesday and rode the 20 miles to Portland with me, I suddenly felt sicker than sick. I jumped on my phone and started researching all that I could about Lyme Disease. I've got some smart friends and resources began streaming in.
By this time darkness was setting in, the chills were getting worse, and one of the scariest nights I've ever had began to unfold The stiffness in my neck shifted into a panic inducing numbness and my heart started beating fast. I felt too weak to move and as I lie in my tent I began to seriously wonder how something like paralysis sets in? How does it feel to fall into that last deep sleep? I'm not exaggerating here. Things got deep. I knew that I was hospital bound at this point, the question was whether to call an ambulance to the camp that night or head over first thing in the morning. After much debate I found myself nervously drifting off and anxious for sunlight.
Morning came, along with an unofficial diagnosis of Lyme's (blood test results still pending, and from what I can tell, close to worthless), my first dose of doxycycline, and a day spent totally racked with pain. Jes is a healer in the truest sense of the word. Her strong spirit, endless patience, and attention to all of the little details of the day got me through the roughest stretch of road that I can remember.
It's been tough travelling since but I'm far from beaten. I'm learning more about the disease, it's co-infections, and other possible forms of treatment. I'm also discovering one of the most contentious debates in the world of science and medicine and watching big ego's, big money, and big ideas fight for space in a crowded room. I'll be posting more about the resources that I uncover and the experience as it unfolds.
I'll also be posting more about a planned peak bagging adventure in NH, a race report from the Hampshire 100, and my backyard adventures at Bradbury Mountain. All leading up to my next 100 miler in September. Vermont 2013 wasn't in the cards for me but I'm looking forward to seeing my teammates go down and do their thing. My heart is with them and I'm sure they'll be bringing some hardware back to Maine. And my 2013 racing season is far from over, this is just a bump on the road, an unexpected scale back week, and a reason to run harder, stronger, and better than I ever have.
On a final note, to all of my trail running friends-do your tick checks and do them well. For real. Keep safe, keep smiling, and keep scaling mountains.
I'll see you up there.
D
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Training Camp
Last month I sent the manager at Bradbury Mountain State Park the following message:
Hi there, I am a long time camper/hiker/runner of Bradbury Mountain and I had a question regarding seasonal camping. I am running a 100 mile trail race this September and am planning to tent camp for the months of June, July, and August in order to train for this race. Do you offer monthly rates for tent sites and would it be alright to camp for that length of time?
This was their reply:
During the peak season we allow only a 14 night maximum stay in ME state parks. You are asking specifically about that time frame. The only exceptions are for our Campground Hosts that can stay an entire season. They basically work for their rent. I am looking for someone to fill our need in that regard. Would you be interested in taking this on?
With two major races on my calendar, the majority of my personal training clients only a short bike ride from the park, and a few months before me and my amazing partner Jes settle into our new apartment I didn't hesitate to fire off my reply. I would absolutely be interested.
Jes and I settled into the site last Thursday (super fortunate to have her and Liam the Ultra-Dog joining me a few nights a week) and set up a summer training camp for the Hampshire 100k and the Pine Creek Challenge 100.
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| Liam the ultra-dog |
Keep checking the blog... or better yet knock on the door of the green tent near the entrance and we'll hit the trails.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Traprock 50K
On a frigid February night I found myself in a friends home talking ultra-running. Jordan and I had known each other in a previous life and had shared many experiences together but it wasn't until we both moved away from Portland and then subsequently moved back that we became running partners. 3 mile runs through the neighborhood to catch-up with one another turned into 3 and 4 hour trail runs every Saturday morning. He paced me at my first 50 miler, I watched him cross the line of his first 50k, and now here we were on a cold, cold night, thinking of spring and of bare trails and of our next ultra-adventure.
We had gathered at his place to watch Unbreakable (again) and scope out spring and summer races. Ian had mentioned the Wapack and Back 50 to me several weeks before and it seemed like a truly appealing race, an out-and-back on the Wapack trail in MA that two of our most bad-ass team members Val and Mindy had already set their sights on.
With registration still weeks away from opening we put Wapack on our calendar and began training. I began looking for 50k races in late April in the hopes of finding something tough, hilly, and generally mean about thirty days from Wapack. And this is where I found the Traprock 50k.
From the race website:
Training was going well and I transitioned from an average of roughly 15 miles per week in the winter to the first 20 mile runs of the season pretty seamlessly. Then, on a long run in surprisingly deep snow which had drifted onto the trail I hurt my ankle-bad. The next several weeks were spent hobbling around on crutches, swinging kettle bells and rowing on the Concept 2, and hoping that I could heal up in time for Wapack.
Most of my training runs consisted of running the Knight Woods trail at Bradbury Mountain, a 1 mile loop with a small hill in the middle. I would run this 10, then 12, then 15 times in order to get as many trail miles in as I could while not straying too far from the car in case the ankle gave out.
Until 3 weeks before the race I considered dropping down the 17k distance at Traprock due to the setback from the injury and the subsequent lack of training. Then, after a long run on a rainy Tuesday morning I texted Jordan to say "50k at Traprock is on". I felt like we had made a commitment to one another and with my ankle in good shape I saw no reason to back out of our biggest training run for Wapack and Back.
We arrived in CT on the evening before the race and got a good night of rest before a beautiful day of running.
With no real time goal in mind and a sense of gratitude that I could even run the thing post-injury I embarked on one of the most relaxed and enjoyable trail runs of my life. The first 10.5 mile loop offered many pleasant surprises, most notable being the relatively runnable terrain in a race that I'd expected to be more of a hands-on-knee's affair. The few climbs that this course offered were undoubtedly difficult and the steepest of them, the stairway to heaven was one of the meanest things I'd ever encountered in a race. But, on this day it didn't feel all that mean and I actually enjoyed ascending this set of stone steps on all three trips occasions. Half-way through the second lap I saw Jordan coming around a lollipop loop less than a 1/4 mile behind me. He looked strong and as I gave him a high five it occurred to me that within a few minutes we might be racing one another. I'm sure that this thought had passed through both of our minds as our training runs found us pretty evenly matched. We'd run into this interesting pattern of him charging out hard at the beginning of our runs and leaving me in the dust, me catching up about 10 miles into the run, and him and I leapfrogging each other as we take turns at feeling good and feeling bad. In our training we always made a plan to meet back at the car at a specified time which allowed us to run at our own pace, break away on our own path, or race each other when the spirit moved us-all of which occurred on these memorable Saturday morning runs. Now with Jordan pulling up next to me at the halfway point of the race I wondered how the next 15 miles were going to go down. We ran neck and neck at a relaxed pace and talked about our favorite parts of the trail and how good we were feeling. For some reason the competitive drive that I expected to kick in for both of us-as it had during so many runs where one of us begins to push the pace and the other drops, keeps up, or pushes harder and charges past- just didn't happen. There came a time when I stopped to stretch for a bit and Jordan ran on. I wondered if I would see him again and felt nothing but glad that he was having such a good run. I caught up to him on a stretch of road a few miles from the start/finish and we completed the second loop together, At this point I wondered if we would end up naturally falling into the same pace for the third and final loop and, with no desire to hard charge and race my friend for the next two hours, if we would possibly cruise into the finish line together.
The rest of the team, Ian, Joe, Ben, and Nate where having a great day on the trails and I saw them periodically as they came cruising down the backs of trails that I was just beginning to climb. With a 3 loop course and several lollipop sections I could see that they were all doing really well and tearing up the Traprock. I ended up a getting a bit ahead of Jordan on some of the climbs and found myself suddenly feeling better than I ever had at mile 23-24 of a 50k. I ran evenly and easily and found myself suddenly alone on a gorgeous stretch of singletrack that was just glowing in the midday sun. As I was enjoying the solitude of the trails I noticed the faint sound of breathing and the crunch of footsteps behind me. I turned to see Jordan coming fast and hard. Suddenly we were neck and neck and pushing the pace. We pulled into an aid station together and took exactly 5 seconds to down a drink and race back out onto the trail. Next aid station same thing-in and out and after each other again. Yet, even with us running neck and neck it didn't feel like we were racing each other. It felt like we were running a race together and was one of the most unique and enjoyable experiences that I've ever shared with a friend on the trails. I could still see either of us taking the lead at this point and the possibility of a duel finish was still on my mind as well.
I'd held back a bit on the second loop in the hopes of a strong finish and as we arrived at the middle of the last loop I felt a surge of strength and began to push hard. I ran the climbs that I'd hiked on the previous two loops and soon found myself alone on the trails again. I kept the pace up for the next mile or two and just as I was about to slow it down and do some late stage ultra-shuffling I noticed a dude in a bright red shirt a few hundred yards ahead. With another runner in striking distance I amped it up again and soon found myself running alongside him and his friend. We ran together until we reached the final aid-station at which I gulped down some ginger-ale and tried to race back out onto the long stretch of road. One of the runners held back while me and the other started a ridiculously slow late stage ultra battle for the books. He was just beginning to pull away from me when the ginger ale settled in my stomach and I felt ready and able to run. I was able to pass him and as I rounded a bend in the road I saw a group of 5 or 6 runners just a few hundred feet away. I raced harder than I ever had at this stage of a long race and was fortunate enough to catch up to, and pass, one after another. Most were supportive and encouraging except for one guy who shot me a snarky ass "How'd you get here?" We'd seen each other many times over the course the day, each time with him in the lead and descending a trail that I was just beginning to climb. I explained to him that I had run there and passed him on the last stretch of road before heading back into the trails.
The last climb and subsequent descent to the finish found me alone and pushing as hard as I could to stay that way. I crossed the line totally wiped by this late stage ultra-duel and pretty close to puking. This was the perfect end to an excellent Wapack training run and to a race that was as memorable for its mellowness as it was for a sudden slugfest in the last few miles and a unique racing experience shared between friends. Jordan finished shortly after and we hung out with the rest of the team for a bit. The Trail Monster flag flew high in the post-ultra haze of burger smoke, sore muscles, and smiling faces and I'm looking forward to hanging it up again at the Wapack and Back 50 in less than two weeks.
We had gathered at his place to watch Unbreakable (again) and scope out spring and summer races. Ian had mentioned the Wapack and Back 50 to me several weeks before and it seemed like a truly appealing race, an out-and-back on the Wapack trail in MA that two of our most bad-ass team members Val and Mindy had already set their sights on.
From the race website:
Consisting entirely of rolling forest roads or single track that can be extremely rocky, the course will provide a true test of the runner’s fitness and mental stamina. You should only consider entering this race if you are confident you have sufficient running experience such as having completed a recent road or trail marathon
 |
| Traprock training |
Most of my training runs consisted of running the Knight Woods trail at Bradbury Mountain, a 1 mile loop with a small hill in the middle. I would run this 10, then 12, then 15 times in order to get as many trail miles in as I could while not straying too far from the car in case the ankle gave out.
Until 3 weeks before the race I considered dropping down the 17k distance at Traprock due to the setback from the injury and the subsequent lack of training. Then, after a long run on a rainy Tuesday morning I texted Jordan to say "50k at Traprock is on". I felt like we had made a commitment to one another and with my ankle in good shape I saw no reason to back out of our biggest training run for Wapack and Back.
We arrived in CT on the evening before the race and got a good night of rest before a beautiful day of running.
 |
| Ian ready to rip it up |
 |
| TM Ultra Team |
The rest of the team, Ian, Joe, Ben, and Nate where having a great day on the trails and I saw them periodically as they came cruising down the backs of trails that I was just beginning to climb. With a 3 loop course and several lollipop sections I could see that they were all doing really well and tearing up the Traprock. I ended up a getting a bit ahead of Jordan on some of the climbs and found myself suddenly feeling better than I ever had at mile 23-24 of a 50k. I ran evenly and easily and found myself suddenly alone on a gorgeous stretch of singletrack that was just glowing in the midday sun. As I was enjoying the solitude of the trails I noticed the faint sound of breathing and the crunch of footsteps behind me. I turned to see Jordan coming fast and hard. Suddenly we were neck and neck and pushing the pace. We pulled into an aid station together and took exactly 5 seconds to down a drink and race back out onto the trail. Next aid station same thing-in and out and after each other again. Yet, even with us running neck and neck it didn't feel like we were racing each other. It felt like we were running a race together and was one of the most unique and enjoyable experiences that I've ever shared with a friend on the trails. I could still see either of us taking the lead at this point and the possibility of a duel finish was still on my mind as well. I'd held back a bit on the second loop in the hopes of a strong finish and as we arrived at the middle of the last loop I felt a surge of strength and began to push hard. I ran the climbs that I'd hiked on the previous two loops and soon found myself alone on the trails again. I kept the pace up for the next mile or two and just as I was about to slow it down and do some late stage ultra-shuffling I noticed a dude in a bright red shirt a few hundred yards ahead. With another runner in striking distance I amped it up again and soon found myself running alongside him and his friend. We ran together until we reached the final aid-station at which I gulped down some ginger-ale and tried to race back out onto the long stretch of road. One of the runners held back while me and the other started a ridiculously slow late stage ultra battle for the books. He was just beginning to pull away from me when the ginger ale settled in my stomach and I felt ready and able to run. I was able to pass him and as I rounded a bend in the road I saw a group of 5 or 6 runners just a few hundred feet away. I raced harder than I ever had at this stage of a long race and was fortunate enough to catch up to, and pass, one after another. Most were supportive and encouraging except for one guy who shot me a snarky ass "How'd you get here?" We'd seen each other many times over the course the day, each time with him in the lead and descending a trail that I was just beginning to climb. I explained to him that I had run there and passed him on the last stretch of road before heading back into the trails.
The last climb and subsequent descent to the finish found me alone and pushing as hard as I could to stay that way. I crossed the line totally wiped by this late stage ultra-duel and pretty close to puking. This was the perfect end to an excellent Wapack training run and to a race that was as memorable for its mellowness as it was for a sudden slugfest in the last few miles and a unique racing experience shared between friends. Jordan finished shortly after and we hung out with the rest of the team for a bit. The Trail Monster flag flew high in the post-ultra haze of burger smoke, sore muscles, and smiling faces and I'm looking forward to hanging it up again at the Wapack and Back 50 in less than two weeks.
 |
| Ultra's make Nate happy |
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Big things
Big things are happening. Everywhere that I look I see someone taking a chance, making a move, taking a stand or chasing a dream. I see people who are becoming increasingly unafraid to bet on themselves and on each other. This speaks volumes to the awesome community that I am a part of and I am nothing but grateful.
Here are a couple of new things on my end that I wanted to share. A few posts ago I mentioned a big change in my business. Well, here it is. I've renamed the business Why Be Strong? and am now offering personal fitness consultations at my new website and running an outdoor training program based in Portland.
I've also been working on a revised edition of my book Paleo in Maine which is now officially completed and on the market. Check it out on Amazon!
I wanted to send a huge thank you to everyone who has supported me in these projects and helped to make them possible.
Spring in the air, dirt on the trails, good things ahead.
Here are a couple of new things on my end that I wanted to share. A few posts ago I mentioned a big change in my business. Well, here it is. I've renamed the business Why Be Strong? and am now offering personal fitness consultations at my new website and running an outdoor training program based in Portland.
I've also been working on a revised edition of my book Paleo in Maine which is now officially completed and on the market. Check it out on Amazon!
Spring in the air, dirt on the trails, good things ahead.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Gratitude
I was on a 20 mile training run two weeks ago when I hurt my ankle...bad. The run was an out-and-back from Bradbury State Park in Pownal, Maine to Pineland Farms in New Gloucester, and by mile 15 of the return I knew that I had done some damage. Each step of the next 5 miles reaffirmed that fact. By the time that we got back to the parking lot I couldn't put any weight on it and I ended up on crutches for the past two weeks.
I usually do okay with acceptance...and with putting things in perspective. Yeah, I couldn't run but I could still walk. I couldn't train the way that I wanted to, but I could still train. I wasn't battling a more serious illness, wasn't dodging bullets in a war zone, wasn't an innocent man on death row etc. Things could definitely be worse.
But, for some reason, this injury was a tough one for me to accept. I just began running regularly again after a taking some time off this winter and (after some huffing, puffing, and humbling first runs) I've never felt better. More importantly for me, this past winter presented some difficult personal challenges and as I hit the fresh dirt trails which snow had covered for the past several months I felt as though I had met these challenges not only intact, but stronger. I just bought a new GPS and some new gear, built up my mileage with a few 10 and 15 milers and a solid 20 two weeks before the injury, and was feeling that feeling that I get every time that I return to race training: it's a feeling of pure and absolute passion. It reminds me of the role that running plays in my life and, this year in particular, of the primal desire to race and race hard. I've never been more excited about a racing season and with the Traprock 50k and the Wapack and Back 50 miler fast approaching I ended up in serious funk. The past 14 days were spent hobbling to the YMCA in Portland and swinging kettle bells, rowing on the Concept 2, and focusing on targeted strength training (mainly deadlifts and squats, and core work) that will correlate to a stronger race performance once I'm ready to get back on the trail.
I ran my first mile this morning and I'm in no pain as I write this. I'm planning on a 3 miler tomorrow morning and I'm optimistic. But, most importantly, somewhere along the line I've regained the perspective that I lost along the way....
There's no "it's only running and I'm grateful for what I have" morale here. Just the opposite. Running has become a huge part of my life over the past few years, largely due to the amazing community that I'm a part of and partly due to my discovering a passion for the 50 and 100 mile distance and the races that I've put on my radar a result.
The past two weeks have reminded me that I am extremely grateful to have something that I love so fucking much that it kills me when its gone. Those are the kind of experiences that I want to fill my life with, the type of relationships that I want to have, and the degree of importance that I want the important things in my life to take.
Looking forward to the run tomorrow, and the one after that, with the sense of gratitude still fresh in my mind. Looking forward to the Traprock 50k and the Wapack and Back 50, where hopefully the only pain that I feel is the pain that I've earned on the trails.
I usually do okay with acceptance...and with putting things in perspective. Yeah, I couldn't run but I could still walk. I couldn't train the way that I wanted to, but I could still train. I wasn't battling a more serious illness, wasn't dodging bullets in a war zone, wasn't an innocent man on death row etc. Things could definitely be worse.
But, for some reason, this injury was a tough one for me to accept. I just began running regularly again after a taking some time off this winter and (after some huffing, puffing, and humbling first runs) I've never felt better. More importantly for me, this past winter presented some difficult personal challenges and as I hit the fresh dirt trails which snow had covered for the past several months I felt as though I had met these challenges not only intact, but stronger. I just bought a new GPS and some new gear, built up my mileage with a few 10 and 15 milers and a solid 20 two weeks before the injury, and was feeling that feeling that I get every time that I return to race training: it's a feeling of pure and absolute passion. It reminds me of the role that running plays in my life and, this year in particular, of the primal desire to race and race hard. I've never been more excited about a racing season and with the Traprock 50k and the Wapack and Back 50 miler fast approaching I ended up in serious funk. The past 14 days were spent hobbling to the YMCA in Portland and swinging kettle bells, rowing on the Concept 2, and focusing on targeted strength training (mainly deadlifts and squats, and core work) that will correlate to a stronger race performance once I'm ready to get back on the trail.
I ran my first mile this morning and I'm in no pain as I write this. I'm planning on a 3 miler tomorrow morning and I'm optimistic. But, most importantly, somewhere along the line I've regained the perspective that I lost along the way....
There's no "it's only running and I'm grateful for what I have" morale here. Just the opposite. Running has become a huge part of my life over the past few years, largely due to the amazing community that I'm a part of and partly due to my discovering a passion for the 50 and 100 mile distance and the races that I've put on my radar a result.
The past two weeks have reminded me that I am extremely grateful to have something that I love so fucking much that it kills me when its gone. Those are the kind of experiences that I want to fill my life with, the type of relationships that I want to have, and the degree of importance that I want the important things in my life to take.
Looking forward to the run tomorrow, and the one after that, with the sense of gratitude still fresh in my mind. Looking forward to the Traprock 50k and the Wapack and Back 50, where hopefully the only pain that I feel is the pain that I've earned on the trails.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Have we met?
Hey, I'm Intensity. Just wondering if we've met.
If we had, you'd remember...
You'd remember because it was awkward and uncomfortable.
You'd remember because it hurt.
What you might remember above all though is how it felt afterwards.
It felt good. You felt strong. You were proud.
Crossing the bridge between I CANT and I WILL and I DID isn't easy traveling, but do it once and you come out stronger. Do it again and get stronger still.
So if we've met before let's get together again soon.
If not,let's set a date....
If we had, you'd remember...
You'd remember because it was awkward and uncomfortable.
You'd remember because it hurt.
What you might remember above all though is how it felt afterwards.
It felt good. You felt strong. You were proud.
Crossing the bridge between I CANT and I WILL and I DID isn't easy traveling, but do it once and you come out stronger. Do it again and get stronger still.
So if we've met before let's get together again soon.
If not,let's set a date....
Saturday, January 26, 2013
As good as it gets
This is about as good as it gets....take twenty seven minutes and one second out of your day to watch it. And then get after what ever what you love to do, with no excuses.
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