Fitness Posts and Narcisism

Last week I shared an article about a Science Daily article (https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/05/150521213743.htm) which discussed a study that concluded that "Facebook status updates about their romantic partner are more likely to have low self-esteem, while those who brag about diets, exercise, and accomplishments are typically narcissists, according to new research."  Many people shared the post and there was a lot of discussion.  Some humor.  Some hurt feelings.  

I should in the interest of full disclosure state that I have never posted any workout related Facebook material.

Me being Awesome at the top of Pinnacle Peak

OK, I have.  But I really don't think the takeaway from the article was: if you post fitness selfies you ARE a narcissist.

Me being Awesome dragging my sled

I think the point that can be taken is that we should ask ourselves what our motivation is for sharing things on social media.  I do know several people that have told me my running posts have inspired them to start running.  That warms my heart.  I've also had several people confess that they un-followed me (or un-friended me) because it was just "look at me running" and "look at this awesome place I ran at" and "look at how awesome I am."  Although I'm not that sure what they are talking about.

Not just being Awesome but looking Awesome at the comrades finish

Over time I have started to think about my motive for my posts, and from time to time check back on my wall and ask "Is there too much me?"  Sometimes I fall short.  Sometimes I look back and say "wow....that's way too much you."  Other times I successfully try to find a way to motivate or inspire people without making it about me.

All the stuff between these hands is Awesome! (sorry Aaron)

I guess other signs that we might be a little too into ourselves are: posting every split, posting every workout, making sure we have the best selfie angle (i.e. if you apply makeup and get into a yoga pose you might be making it about you) posting every meal, posting 50 hashtags, etc.  Do we post about bad runs?  Do we post pictures when we fail?  I know many of us would rather be caught dead than have an embarrassing picture of ourselves show up on Facebook, but it happens. (Just not to me).

My Awesome shirt!

We should also address the "don't judge me" crowd.  We need to come to grips with the fact that EVERYTHING we put on Facebook is, to some extent, a cry for judgment.  I know we don't want to admit it, but each time someone "likes" our post they are judging it (favorably).  We need to come to grips with the fact that when someone posts something negative about us, they are also judging us, just negatively. (Not that this has ever happened to me).

Gordy agrees.  I'm Awesome.  #NotReally

So if you post your 5 mile run and you are more than happy to have 100 people "like" it and 25 people call you "beast mode" you should also be willing to accept the person that says "5 miles isn't that far" or "is this really something that needs to be on Facebook."  You can't say "Don't judge me, unless you think I'm Awesome!  *Note: Race Directors....this applies to you too.  If you are fine with being blown by 100's of satisfied runners you can't bitch about those runners that want to post about their disappointments too.

I think it would be a mistake to simply say "this article is dumb" or "I'm not a narcissist!!"  Instead, I think it gives us some food for thought about our relationship with social media.  No, I'm not saying over-think it.  No, I'm not saying change what you do per se.  But I think we could all learn a lot by looking into our behaviour, especially on social media, asking ourselves why we do what we do and making sure that we are being honest with yourselves and the Facebookland.  This is especially so as more and more of our life begins to be lived virtually.  

Next up for me, crewing and pacing at the Leadville as part of training for the Bear100 while trying to pump out a healthy dose of podcasts.  :)

Trail Therapy - and Being in a Hole

I realize I haven't blogged in a while.  There has been a combined overwhelming amount of activity with the Ten Junk Miles podcast, Flatlanders, races and personal issues (health friends and family).  I hope to write more in 2016.  Once in a while someone gets something out of it. It always helps me.

A lot of us in the trail and ultra world, myself included, are a little bit broken.  We were abused or neglected, had drinking, eating, sex, money or gambling problems.  Some of us are running away from things and others are running to things.  It's different for everyone.  One thing many of us do share is using trails and/or running as therapy.

I found running when I was finally sorting out all of the hard times I had been through.  Sometimes when I run I think about my childhood and how extremely unfair it was to experiences the horrors I have been through.  Other times I think my addictions and recovery.  I've thought about the death of my friend Alfredo.  Sometimes I just worry about others.  (Although, to be fair, I do think about jokes from time to time too).

When you are running away from horrors you can forget them on the trail.  Running a marathon, or a 20, 50 or 100 miler sometimes gives you clarity and singularity of focus.  The bills, the kids, the boss, your "baggage" no longer matters.  And when you cross that finish line and they give you the 100 mile buckle you can feel, in a real sense, validated and good enough.  It doesn't matter so much that you've been a shitty friend, husband, co-worker or human being from time to time because, well, look.....you were working on achieving this piece of awesome!  No pain no gain.  You can't make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.  You can forgive yourself.  Others forgive you.  It's all good.

Sometimes we don't know what to do when trail therapy doesn't work.  You see, I have thought about the fact that I might not be the best husband, worker, friend, etc. but that it's understandable based on my circumstances.  I mean, I'm training for X.  It makes me forgive myself for the shortcomings that, between you and me, would normally keep me up at night.

The problem is that when (like now) the running isn't working, it only emphasizes the fact that I fall somewhat short in every other category.  When running is your therapy and your medicine and it stops working, you can get a little lost.  Everything seems ten times worse because you can't feel better by just going for a run.  In fact, the struggle of the run makes it all feel much worse.  And now, "I can't even do this right?"

I think some of the answer lies in removing the results from the calculus and enjoying the run, the friendships and the experience over the result as a way to "get over."  If there's one thing running has given me, its unimaginably good friends that share an intimacy like very few other groups.  To be with another runner, in the woods, sharing my problem makes me feel not so alone.  And as we say in one of my 12 step groups, "You're only as sick as your secrets."

I recently related the story of the guy who fell in the hole to a couple people.  It goes like this:

This guy is walking down the street and he falls in a hole.  The walls are so steep he can't get out.  A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up "Hey, you, can you help me out?"  The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down the hole and moves on.  Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up "Father, I'm down here in this hole.  Can you help me out?  The priest writes a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on.

Then a friend walks by.  The guy yells "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out?"  And then the friend jumps in the hole.  Our guy says, "Are you nuts? Now we're both down here."  The friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before - and I know the way out."

Bottom line - running fast, running far and running in amazing places can and will help you through almost anything, but nothing beats being able to spill your guts to someone when they don't have time to judge you because they don't want to trip on a root.  Reach out.  We've all been in the hole at some point or another.

And keep running.

On Pacing 100 Milers

Kettle Moraine 100 - 2015

"Hey man....you want a beer before we head out?"  Not the typical conversation between a runner and his pacer before heading out for mile 62 of a 100 mile footrace.  But this wasn't a typical runner or a typical day.   His wife Cindy Faford is the world's greatest supporter/cheerleader/crewperson. James ran a rather unusual 100 miler in April at the Potawatomi Trail Races (46 hours over a couple of days after signing up for the 50 miler). Prior to that, he hadn't finished a 100 mile race in almost five (5) years.  James was 0-2 at last weekend's Kettle Moraine 100 mile race.  At 51 years old one would think his best years of running were behind him.   

James told me about his prior struggles at kettle as well as his problems running at night, generally, at the St. Pat's 24 Hour Race last year.  When I heard of them my response was simple: I need to pace you and make sure you get that kettle.  (the award you get for finishing the Kettle Moraine 100).

Little did I know this was not going to be a slog (slow jog) fest with a masters runner.  Instead, James took off like he was trying to win the whole race.  I expected to finish between 30 and 32 hours.  Much to my suprise, James rolled into mile 62 (the point where I was going to pace him) at 13:55.  About 3-5 hours sooner than I imagined.  He looked great and he was full of energy.  He was in fantastic shape and I instantly knew he would finish.

"Sure, that might hit the spot."  James took a cold Spotted Cow and started hiking with me down the Nordic Trail.  The sun was shining.  Our plan was to hike a couple of miles, drink the beer, get his stomach settled and then start running.

We had a blast.  chatting up some of the more colorful and interesting ultra folks along the way.

My nemesis Juli (although we can be friendly when not trying to kill each other)

We had a few run-ins with ultra vegan Dave Wiskowski and his amazing pacer Daniel Robinson.

In the end, vegan power overtook us.  We were resigned to a walk for the last five miles.  We went from at one point gunning for sub 24 hours, to 25, to, well, top speed at the time.  We talked of life and love and music and god only knows what else.  We saw and heard virtually millions of animals and frogs along the trail.  We tried certain things to settle James's stomach that worked and some that didn't.  One thing we never talked about - quitting.  The idea of dropping never came to mind and I think that's one good thing that can happen when you have a pacer.

In spite of what you might think, I didn't really focus much on pace.  (That's a lie.  I did break down the numbers on a semi regular basis for him to finish sub 24, 25 and 26 until he confessed that he could go no faster).  Moreover, we were not really concerned about what place James was in.  (That's also a lie.  I was constantly pointing out that he was ahead of people we saw on the trail in hopes of motivating James.  I don't believe it worked.  James is way too nice of a guy).  At the end of the day what we really were was two good friends (Well, that might be a lie, we don't really know each other too well at all) sharing the wonder of the trails at night (Another lie.  "This Sucks" was said early and often) together.

Does any of it matter?  At 26:02 we crossed the finish line.  James got his kettle and I finally fell asleep at the finish line.

You may be someone like me, that is in an Ultrarunning club.  You may have many questions about how to run 100 or 50 miles.  I just want to put out there something that I said earlier in my group about pacing and crewing: "I learned what I learned from finding people that knew a lot and watching them, crewing them, pacing them and expiramenting with them. I didn't learn it in a book or from the Facebook page. there's no easy answer. It's a path of discovery....It's one thing to come in [to a Facebook Group] and say "Anyone have any advice for me....I'm trying my fisrst 50k." It's another thing to spend 20 hours in the woods holding someone's bottle and seeing first hand how they struggle and overcome. And you give back. And you remember that later when a new guy wants to hold your bottle.

That smile was for you James Faford.  Because you really knocked me out!

Winter Ultras - Part 2 - Frozen Otter

Amanda and I near the start

On January 17, 2015, I set out with a few of my fellow Flatlanders to tackle the Frozen Otter Trek, a 64 mile race in the northern Kettle Moraine State Park in Wisconsin.  The race is historically a tough race, with a 25% completion rate.  The race has a set of required gear that must be carried.  There is very minimal support.  Water, Coffee, Hot Cocoa and Ramen every 8 or so miles.  We were also given one hot sausage.  the required gear added a significant burden.  The forecast called for favorable conditions so I brought the absolute minimum.

The race consists of two out and back treks from a lodge in the park.  One is 46ish miles, while the other is 18ish.  To be an official finisher you need to make it to one of the posts and back to the shelter.  The finishers are then ranked by distance covered.  

To be one of the "Frozen Few" you have to make it through the entire course in less than 24 hours. 

The race takes place on mostly single track moderately hilly trails.  My watch got about 5,000 feet of climb in the first 40 miles.  I would guess the total was not more than 7,500 feet.  

Lucky for us, the temperature was very warm for that time of year.  I don't think it got below 20 and I think for quite a bit of the time it was around 30.  Cold wasn't a factor.  I didn't have to use any of my required gear.  The conditions were ideal.

Striking a pose with Mike Mike

That being said, this was no cakewalk.  25 degrees isn't 70.  Moreover, I've never done a 100K.  It's a strange distance.  In this instance having little aid was really challenging.  I found myself craving hot food and desperately craving coke.  I never realized how important it is on long runs/races!  I bonked a bunch.

I started with my friend Amanda Runion.  Our plan was to run the entire race together.  the other two friends we ran with, Mike Mike and chuck Schultz set off on their own.  We did see each other several times throughout the race.  With 9 miles to go Amanda, Chuck and I set out to finish together.

Amanda got cold because Chuck and I were moving so slow.  I mean molasses slow.  I mean like 45 minute mile slow.  Chuck and I have been in several bonk-bunkers before so we made the best of it....hallucinating the final mile with false identifications of the finish, followed by "that's not real" in unison.

In the end Chuck and I finished in 22:14.  I joined the frozen few and my name will be permanently added to the Frozen Few plaque.  Amanda was about a half hour in front of us and Mike was about a half hour behind us.  We all had a blast.  I would do this event again, but I did miss my sled.  I think I would prefer a sled pull event if given a choice.  If I do it again I'll bring a few cokes for sure!

Gear: I nailed the gear on this one.  I wore my Hoka Stinson Trails and did not change shoes at all.  Injinji mid calf hiking socks, shorts (yep, no pants at all), Act'eryx Stryka Hooded Base Layer and Arc'Teryx Gamma Men's Hoodie  Arc'teryx Phase II Liner Gloves, Flatlander Buff.  Black Diamond Headlamp.

Finishers Dog Tags and Buff

Finishing

Partial Strava Data: https://www.strava.com/activities/242967553

Belly Flops

"A failure is not always a mistake, it may simply be the best one can do under the circumstances. 

The real mistake is to stop trying."
B.F. Skinner

Zoe Summits Hope Pass

     I'm dubbing 2014 the "Year of the Belly Flop" for me.  Not only was 2014 filled with injuries, I DNF'ed every distance except the 50K.  (Potawatomi 150, Bear/Sawtooth 100, San Juan Solstice 50 mile and Las Vegas Marathon (though this is a long story).  I did more crying and quitting than usual. Poor Dovi had his mileage cut by almost 1/2 (from 1250 in 2013 to around 800 in 2014).  I also parted ways with several good friends and my former running group New Leaf.  

How bad did I want to quit?

     I didn't re-qualify for Hardrock.  I didn't finish a 100 mile race.  My pants grew tighter.  My hip hurt.  I became more bald and more grey.  2014 didn't turn out the way I wanted it to.

     That being said, it wasn't a total loss.  My friends often prevailed where I didn't:

     We also set up a small running group called Flatlanders.  It's growth hasn't shocked me.  It was built on a few very simple principles.  No money, no bitching, keep running and help one another.  I'm proud to be part of that group.

Trail Work

Lakefront 50/50 Aid Station

     OK, I know, I did some stuff too.  I ran the Comrades, Sean O Brien 50, 100 at Potawatomi, a PR marathon, the Gnome 50K, to name a few.  I climbed some mountains

Mt. Elbert

I made some new friends.  I volunteered.  I paced.  I crewed.  We laughed and cried.  We ran from Milwaukee to Chicago.  We put on some great fatasses (re-taste, krispy kreme, salichia) and we helped a few people reach their goals.  

Vicki - first 50 mile!

     Also, Dovi completed his first Ultra at McNotAgain 30.  He even beat me (by a nose).

     I'm convinced that you learn a hell of a lot more from failure than success.  I learned how to be OK with being injured.  I made some good decisions.  I learned how to cheer for the success of others while experiencing failure.  In short, I learned to make the best of it.

     2015 will be very different.  

     My main running and training partner Alfredo has been diagnosed with ALS.  This year I will think about him often.  My wife has laminated pictures of him to take with me on all of my races so we can continue to run together.  I will remember that he is suffering more than I.  and that my suffering has been self-inflicted by choice, for sport.  I won't take another run for granted.  When times are tough I will draw on him for strength.  

     Don't get me wrong.  I know for CERTAIN that there will be more belly flops.  I don't think Alfredo would have it any other way.  With that being said, I am off to tackle the next thing....Tuscobia 150.  This will be a long run n the snow carrying my gear on a sled (named Alfredo) which I drag.  I have no idea what I'm doing.  Things are about to get interesting.

    Please keep Alfredo and his family in your thoughts and prayers and have a great holiday!!!

Making the Best of It

"You know what Scott, I think you could bounce back from this on the next section" said the great Errol "Rocket" Jones at the mile 29 aid station of the Bear 100.  I had already dropped from the race and told my friend Amanda to go one without me.  I wasn't in any real pain, but I knew it wasn't my day.  I had been getting over a tendonosis in my hip for several months.  I had run 20 miles once in three months.  My mileage was down, my weight was up and my fitness was at a low I hadn't experienced in a while.

Don't get me wrong.  I was having fun.  The Bear 100 starts in Logan Utah and almost immediately climbs to somewhere near Jupiter.

It's a Hardrock 100 qualifier.  It's a graduate level course.  For someone like me (i.e. a painstakingly mediocre flatlander who spends little time climbing, descending, or at altitude) just finishing this course while actually in shape would be tough.  The Bear is, well, a bear.

As I have indicated in the past, it is really hard to deal with limitations.  This is especially so in a sport where pain is sometimes to be ignored.  In my case, I knew I was going to have to deal with the fact that I would not complete a Western States Qualifier and I would, again, be resigned to cheering for others.

"It's a very gentle downhill, the perfect stretch to see if you can bounce back.  I only turned back because I puked."  The Rocket is from Chicago so I have always been fond of his writing.  He's a legend.  He is a co-RD of the race and has done it 16 times.  If anyone knows, it's him.  I took his advice, saddled up, let the HAM radio guys know I was "un-dropping" and got back into the race with a new vigor.

Oh, one more thing about the Rocket.  He's a total fucking liar.  No gentle downhill.  No easy trail.  Just up up up in the blazing sun.  The only part of that section that I enjoyed was seeing his puke spot on the side of the road and thinking "serves you right."  :)

So I trudged onward.  Reluctantly.  To mile 36.

At that point I knew I was only kidding myself.  But something dawned on me.  It was beautiful.  I wasn't in severe pain.  And you know what?  there really wasn't anyplace in the world I would have rather been.  So I made the best of it.

At mile 36 I considered dropping, but then decided to run until the sun set.  So I took off.   About a mile down the trail I stopped.  I wondered what the hell I was doing.  I was kidding myself.  So I turned back to the aid station to drop.  Halfway back I stopped and started criticizing my decision.  this continued for about a half hour, until I started criticizing myself about spending so much time criticizing myself.  Eventually I decided to just call it quits.  I headed back to 36 and dropped.  Again.

It's really hard to make these decisions.  It's even harder when you're injured.  As I packed my bag in shame my friend Amanda came rocketing into the aid station in tears.  She missed the turn, ran six extra miles, and was now in danger of missing the cutoff.  I asked her if she needed me to jog a bit with her and she said yes.  So I un-dropped.  Again.  As a consequence three things happened: 1) I got to give her a little more support in hopes of her making it to the finish; 2) I got to run until the sun set;

and 3) I found an injured Haley Pollack and got to keep her company while she limped in to 45 in the dark.

Two of the Flatlanders finished this amazing race.  I was glad I could be there to support them both.  I'll be back for more next year.  Hopefully making the best of it again.

Re-Taste of Chicago II - 2014

The Starters

On July 27, 2014, I put on the second annual Re-Taste of Chicago fatass (ultra)marathon.  The event was inspired last year by Jimmy Dean Freeman's 5000 calorie LA Marathon Route Run.  The event basically follows the route of the Chicago Marathon (OK, it's closer to 30 miles - sue me), but throws in 9 REQUIRED eating stops.  Here is a video from last year: http://vimeo.com/72294207

Billy Goat - Eat an entire Cheezeborger!

Stop Two - Chicago Style Dog or Cheese Fries

The rules are simple: run the entire route, eat all of the food, do not throw up.  You puke, you DNF.  You fail to eat the food, DNF.  Last year 12 started and 4 finished.

Stop 3 - Ann Sather - Eat a Cinnamon Bun

This year every single person finished and ate everything, inlcuding the fact that I threw in two undisclosed stops: a half of an italian beef sandwich and (at mile 29) a cup of (bad) Chili with cheese and raw onions, and a (PBR) beer.  I should mention it was 90 degrees all day!

Stop 4 - Lou Malnatti's - Eat a Piece of Chicago Style Pizza (thick crust)

Stop 5 - Greektown - Baklava!!

Stop 6 - Mario's Italian Ice (Mario is second from the left)

Bonus half on Italian beer sandwich with your Italian ice

Stop 7 - Commales Tacos - Eat a chicken taco

 

Stop 8 - Egg Roll - ENORMOUS

Stop 9 - Spicy Fried Chicken!!

 \

Undisclosed Chili and Beer Stop - Mile 29

A piece of Cake must be eaten to be an official finisher

Winner - Aaron Braunstein!!

With everyone finishing I guess next year I will have to raise my game!!!  Special thanks to the volunteers, without which this wouldn't have happened: Kylia Kummer, Eric Skocaj, Siamak Moustoufi, Vicki Brassil, Amanda Runnion, Whitney Richman and Jen DeSalvo!!