Race Directing - In Just About To My Head

This weekend I directed my first race with my partner Adam Benkers.  I've put on a few fatass events and led some large group runs, but I've never done anything comparable to putting on a race.  But I guess I should first back up and give you the why.

About two years ago I discovered this 130 year old railroad tunnel in southwest Wisconsin.  It was really cool and on a nice rail trail.  Now this trail isn't gnar, or hardcore.  There weren't rocks or roots or mountain views.  It was, to say it simply, nice.  Overwhelmingly, incredibly, and unapologetically nice. I became overwhelmed with the need to put on a race on this trail so people would go through this tunnel.  That's really the first straw.

I knew the New Glarus Brewery was in the area so I wrote them asking if they would be interested in getting involved.  They flat out refused.  I explored the area and was lead ultimately to the Minhas Brewery.  This is the second oldest brewery in the country and it was super cool and close to the trail.  I emailed and called them, hoping for them to be a host to the race, and they didn't follow up.  For a while I thought about how cool it would be to have an ultra go between these breweries.  But my dreams were shattered and it was back to the drawing board.

Somewhere around this time I started considering doing this with Adam.  We had talked about shorter races and a Ten Junk Miles race series, but this race was still really in my head.  I just couldn't figure it out.  We knew we were going to put a race on this trail, we just didn't know how.

Last September I did the Yeti 100 and saw that a out, back and out again format was possible.  Then, after exploring up and down the trail, a plan emerged.  Now, I realize I was a rookie.  So I wanted to start out simply.  With a 100 Mile, 100k, 50 mile, 50K, marathon and half marathon all rolled into one.  Simple right?

We applied for a permit and insurance.  Formed a company (Ten Junk Miles Racing, LLC) and off we went to try to figure out race directing.

For the most part we created this event from scratch, from the ground up.  We didn't use anyone's template.  There were some things that were important to each of us and for the most part those visions materialized.  First: amazing buckle

TJM branded feminine hygiene products at all aid stations

the use of the Stewart Tunnel by all runners

cool swag and last but not least, making a 70 year old tavern on the course (Dot's) a required stop.

(Yes, you have to go downstairs, get a coaster and bring it to the next aid station).  We wanted this race to reflect our vision and version of trail running.  Music at the aid stations, beer, fireball, great swag (100 milers got a shirt, belt, socks and buff) and a family atmosphere. We bought three kegs of New Glarus Spotted Cow (exclusively sold in Wisconsin) for the finish line. We wanted people to stay and talk and for it to feel like a family reunion.

We wanted a long cutoff for people who struggled at breaking 30 hours.  So 36 hours it was.  Why not?  Why does it have to be so hard?  Why not just remove the problem of worrying about cutoffs so people can just enjoy themselves.  And they did.

We also really wanted to incorporate the towns along the way.  Belleville, Orangeville, Monticello, Monroe, New Glarus and Basco stole our hearts.  These pretty cities have a lot to offer and we wanted people to know them, to spend time in them and to spend their money in them.  It means so much more to these towns than the big city.  The towns showed their gratitude by helping the race in every conceivable way.  All of the first responders had our backs.  The city broke with tradition and allowed camping in the park. They helped us make this event easier at every opportunity.

Packet pickup overwhelmed me.  Seeing those hundred of people made it real.  Sure, I had spent some sleepless nights trying to figure out a lot of different aspect of the race.  We would suddenly think "what about drop bags?" or "what's our policy on X?" We made it up as we went.  When in doubt we asked, "What would a trail runner want" and we tried our best to comply in every way.  We worked through the night delivering supplies to aid stations.  Friends and family came and helped.  Tents popped up out of no where.  Dusty Olson came from CO.  Dan Slater from Michigan.  Friends and family and  fans of the show just materialized everywhere and jumped in and helped where it was needed and it all just came together.

What happened on race day is hard to describe.  It felt like a wedding.  From the time we said go adrenaline was rushing through me.  Most of day 1 was spent replenishing supplies. Frantically.  Adam and I basically stopped communicating altogether, though our cars did pass flying down those country roads.  More water, more ice, more Tailwind, more fruit.  It was non-stop madness and driving and delivering and, somehow, it all just worked out fine.

I planned to get some sleep Fri night, but before I knew it Vikash Malik was finishing the 100K, then Jeff Miller, and then before you knoew it Nicholas Budzyn was there and I handed out my first buckle.  I couldn't sleep.  Hoa Schober was coming.  And Jamison. And all my other friends and trail family.  I had to be there when they finished.  I had to give them their buckle.

Behind the scenes tens of friends of mine were working way to hard to make this happen.  Mine and Adam's families, my wife, my sister Lynn, Dustball, and the aid station captains Michelle Hartwig, (Monroe) Nora Bird (Tunnel) Mike Kelsey (Gutzmer) Holly Lindroth (Monticello) Sam Turco and Rachel Ingle (County Road) and Josie Benkers (Orangeville).  It was just totally fucking amazing.  It all just came together and happened.  And then the finishers came, over and over.  The tears, the hugs, the smiles.  I forgot so many people I know were out there and as they finished my heart grew so large I thought it would explode.

I can say this.  Giving out a 100 mile buckle felt so much better than getting one.

So much went wrong that no one will ever know.  But what matters most is those smiles.  All of my favorite people on my favorite trail seeing trail running the way me and Adam envisioned it.

Special notes: this was the largest collection of participants from the MURCA group (Marine Ultra Runners Club of America).  Also, Ultra legend Tom Green finished the 100, which was particularly moving.

Honestly, it is impossible to sum up in word what this race and event meant to me.  What it meant to hug all those people and give them awards, so many of them their first, and just an impossible number of them telling us that the Ten Junk Miles podcast was to blame for their finish.

It goes without saying that I was terrified from start to finish.  I didn't sleep at all.  I was terrified that people would get to the finish line and tell me that they had no idea what we were thinking and that it was boring or not pretty or that they otherwise hated it.  My vision and version of trail and ultra running might not be for everyone.  Perhaps I was delusional.  :).

Nope.  That didn't happen at all.  It went better than I ever could have expected.  We had 88 100 mile finishers, and over 400 total.  I cried about 100 times.  I can't wait to do it again.

You meet a lot of cool people on the trail.  One of them is you.  

#RunTJM

Trail Running Doesn't Feel the Same - 2016 a Retrospective

I look around sometimes and notice that a lot of the people that used to be a huge part of the trail running community don't come around to the group runs anymore.  In fact, we hardly see any of them anymore.  When i ask I usually hear something like "it just doesn't feel the same anymore" and I wonder what they mean by that.

When I first came to trail running I immediately fell in love with the culture and community.  I was wowed by the fact that people cared more about me reaching my goals than measuring them against their own accomplishments.  People didn't ask my finish times.  At fatass events no one really cared who ran faster or further.  I couldn't believe how quick seasoned veterans were to lend a hand, some advice, crew or pace me, or just ask me to go on a run with them.  They genuinely welcomed me to the community and I felt like that really wanted me to succeed.

In those early days group runs were a place to make new friends, pass along the knowledge we learned and cultivate relationships.  Spending all day on the trial with people and you feel a sense of closeness.  You paced them overnight during their 100 miler.  You crewed them.  You saw them fail. You watched them triumph.

Maybe your life got busier or your priorities changed.  You started just doing group runs just with your close group of friends.  It was easier for this smaller group to just crew and pace each other. You focused on dominating your age group and getting into Western States while taking more intimate trips together.  You didn't have time to slow down and help.  You didn't reach out to the new trail runners.  People just didn't understand that you can't give an entire day to working an aid station.  You did your volunteer hours for the year already....other people can clean up the trails.

And then one day you came around and noticed how things had changed.  All the old people were gone.  It just didn't feel the same.

I think at some point we all come to discover that the trail and ultra "community" gives way more than it takes, but only to those that give back.  Think about it this way....running 100 miles alone with no crew or pacer on inadequate training is hard.  Compare that to having a great crew, inspirational pacer and knowing that you put in all the hard work... it makes it easier.  It also allows others to play a role, learn, build a relationship with you and share in your accomplishment.

Are you leaving the world of trail and ultra running better than it was when you found it?  Do you give more than you take?  Did you pace or crew a stranger this year? Did you extend your hand to a newcomer and make some of those first hard long runs easier for them by giving them company?  Did you work an aid station all day?  Did you help put on a fatass?  Volunteer for a local Race Director? Did you inspire a stranger by believing in them before they could believe in themself?

If you answered no to several of the above it might be time to look in the mirror and admit that it's not trail and ultra running, but you that's changed.  Let's make it a goal in 2017 to give more than we take.

You meet a lot of amazing people out on the trials.  One of them is you!

Running Friends

If you're like me you have two (or more) sets of friends.  Running friends and regular friends.

Most of your regular friends are people you made a decision to become close to for some reason or another.  Maybe they were your neighbor, or you worked together.  Maybe you have a common interest or even a friend in common.  Nonetheless, the common thread with all of these people is that for some reason you decided to create and form a friendship.  These friendships ebb and flow at times based on your common interests.  You switch jobs.  You give up stamp collecting.  You move.  These friends also tend to change.  There are people in my life that were critical connections a decade ago that now....well... I can't even think of their last name.

Flatlanders Dog Days of Summer 8 Hour Fatass 08-06-16

It might just be me, but running friends seem different.  Obviously there are people in your running group or club.  They might start out like the friends described above.  But if you run long enough (meaning a long period of time) or long enough (meaning a really long distance) you might make a different kind of friend.  What I call my "running friends.

I can't tell you some of my running friend's names or what they do for a living.  I might not know the names and ages of their kids.    Nonetheless, the bond that you will make with people on the trails or on really long runs will be, in many way, more intimate than all of the other relationships in your life.  You'll tell them about your chaffage and diarrhea.  You'll tell them all your secret stories from your life, the stuff you would be afraid to tell anyone else, simply because it gets your mind off of the fact that you are suffering and will be for many more hours.  Some of these friends you'll keep in touch with on Facebook or Strava.  Others you won't even think of until the next time you bump into them at a race, and they won't mind your lack of contact at all.  You'll pick up right where you left off. There's just something about running friends that's different.

Sure, there are more than a few narcissists and drama queens and serial assholes, just like in any other social group.  But I submit that running friends are the best friends you'll have.  They'll know just what you need and when you need it.  They'll say the right thing to change your mindset.  They'll believe in you, even when you don't believe in yourself.

So next time you are out on a 30 mile training run, or 3/4 of the way through a long race look to your left and look to your right.  You're next best friend might be right there, waiting for you to lean on them.

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!

Quick Update and Review of 2Toms and Saxx

It's been an interesting month, to say the least.  My double Potawatomi 100/Indiana 100 didn't turn out as expected.  I dropped at mile 60 at Potawatomi, but managed to pull out a 29:30 finish at Indiana in some calf deep, shoe sucking mud.  (special thanks to my pacer Paul Wilkerson).

Hanging with the crew at POT100 post-DNF

Photo by Scott Laduick

Going into Ice Age I wasn't totally healed (only 11 days post Indiana 100) and my feet, knees and back were a little sore.  Nonetheless, I had a great day (for me) and finished 11:15, more than 30 minutes faster than last time.  I was really happy with how strong I pushed and how good I felt all day.

Next up I have a large block of training which will end with Cry Me A Rive 50 Mile and then a short rest before Angeles Crest 100.  AC100 is the main race of my year and I've been waiting a long time to get to that start line (I was DNS due to injury last year).  This is a really important race to me.  It'll be the hardest race I have attempted.  Graduate level. Mountains, Altitude, Extreme Heat.  But breathtaking views and many great runner friends.

To get ready, I am going to have to train pretty hard.  I expect to really make it hurt on the trails and stairs...especially in the heat.  I am also going to have to work on losing about 30 more pounds by following the NSNG program I have been on.  So far I've lost ten pounds on it.  You can learn more about it here: http://vinnietortorich.com/

At Ice Age I tried two brand new products for the first time.  (I know....bad idea).  2Toms sport stick:

And Saxx underwear:

There's no delicate way to say this.  I'm a big guy.  Big guys chaffe.  In many, many places.  I also have a track record of blisters on my gnarly feet.  I am happy to report that, in spite of the really humid temps, I didn't chaffe AT ALL at Ice Age and both of these products are AMAZING.  No blisters, no chaffing.  I didn't change clothes once.  I wore a polyester tshirt.  (Imaginary Foundation).  And my mind was blown by these products.  I can't say enough good things.

Finally, things have really been taking off for Ten Junk Miles.  http://www.tenjunkmiles.com/

We've had about ten times as many listeners as I thought and it gets bigger every day.  If you get time give us a listen and rate and review us on itunes.  We don't make any money off of it, but your reviews move it up in the ratings so more people can find it.

Have a great Summer!!!!