Team In Training SGV Bushido - Way of The TNT Warrior

The SGV TNT BUSHIDO

“Way of the TNT Warrior”

~adapted from the So Cal Coyotes Trail Bushido who adapted from someone else..who adapted from another... and then someone else. Pass it on!

0.        Your Physical Health is Ground Zero

Running, walking, training should enhance your health, not tear you apart. Recovery is key. Always keeping in mind the point of doing this is to maximize your well being. If you are constantly pushing it, never taking time for recovery you will soon break down or burn out. Keep an eye on your energy levels and your physical aches and pains. Either we take time to self-maintain or soon we we’ll be doing all the things we should have been doing all along while injured.

1. Respect The Run/Walk/Training

Running, walking and training are a gift.  Always strive to appreciate that you can move your body in an inspired, elegant and amazing way. Even a “bad” run is still part of a great day more often than not.  You are challenging yourself for YOU , for others (cancer patients and their families) and sport. Your body will react and you will become stronger.  Running, walking, training is one of the greatest representations of, “you get out what you put in”.

2. Respect Your Fellow Athlete

Anyone who runs, walks, bikes, hikes, swims, snowshoes etc. deserves our respect. Those who get out there and JUST DO IT, it doesn’t matter the distance, speed or frequency, on that day you are an athlete and we are humbled by you.

3. Respect the Roads and Trails 

No matter where you live, you can always visit some amazing places to run. Be it a local park, a side trail at the Rose Bowl, a mountain, canyon or beach, Earth deserves our deepest respect. It’s not enough to not litter. Pick up litter. We are using the trails to better ourselves; let’s leave the trails better too. Step up your game. It will feel really good and you will inspire others to do the same.

    4.  Remember Where You Started

Whether it was 28 years ago or 28 days ago, remember how far you have come. Do not waste time wishing you were better, faster, more fit than another time in your life. Work to be better NOW.  There was a time when physical activity (running, walking, training) was difficult, laborious, or even punishment, but now, you can enjoy yourself, have fun and improve with mindful remembrance.

    5.  Never Envy (Another Athlete)

Much of an athlete’s success is determined prior to their workout’s beginning. Never begrudge someone else the hard work they did to improve. Measure yourself against yourself and be generous with that measurement (be glass half full)

    6.   LEAD (By Example)

Commit yourself to having an impact of others (runners/walkers and “non” athletes alike). Training doesn’t just improve you physically; it improves your overall health, well being, vitality, and mentality. Reinvest that energy in others by inspiring them to take up a physical activity that inspires them. If they hate running or don’t run/walk, invite them to give it another shot with new perspective. 99% of us loved to run when we were children. We didn’t even think about it. “Don’t run in the house, the hall, by the pool etc”. “You messed up! Run two laps”, our PE teachers bellowed! Somewhere we took the wrong turn. If you found your way back to that joy (or never lost it, spread the love. Even if you inspire just one in every ten people, that one drop in the pond will send shockwaves through their life and to those around them. It is worth it.

    7.  The “All In” Mentality

You never know which run/walk or race will be your last or last for awhile. Don’t take it for granted. It’s one thing to take an easy day in a tough week; it’s another thing altogether to just run because your training schedule says so. Don’t lose sight of this simple, yet profound thing that we do and how much we miss it when it’s not available as an option. As Team in Training Athletes we do share a bit of the cancer fighter’s struggle. Cancer patients and families suffer. They suffer through the fear and the pain of treatment. We suffer too. Training can be tough and there are days when it can be difficult. Remember that our suffering is a joyous suffering done in large part to end the suffering of those who courageously take on cancer and fight for LIFE.

 

 8.  Have Fun!

“If you are not having fun, you’re doing it wrong.” – K. Benton

It’s better to sacrifice performance goals than it is to sacrifice the enjoyment of running/walking. Of course it is fun to improve, but if you make it to the end of a long training program, fall short at a race, and have the thought or feeling that “I just wasted four to five months of my life” or more, you’ve ripped yourself off in so many ways.  The journey is what counts! Start with an attitude of gratitude and the race results will follow. No, it will not happen over night. Our sport requires patience.

    9.  Finish Strong!

Finish your races strong. Give it your all even if your all is a slow march to the finish line. Sometimes finishing strong is simply about your attitude. When close to the finish, line it up and knock it out. Don’t quit. The  two exceptions are injury or when you have spent 50% or more of a race running/walking with someone (teammate or otherwise). Though shall not drop the hammer on partnership at the very end. If you are running with a partner and for position you agree to part ways prior to the last 20% of the race.

    10. There Are Many Eyes in “TEAM”

When it comes to training (running/athletic walking) or a race there will be good days and ugly days.  YOU are part of a TEAM, especially when you don the Team in Training jersey. Represent yourself as you would want your teammates to represent you. Especially when you have a bad day. The great thing about failing when part of a TEAM is you get to celebrate the success of your teammates instead of wallowing in self pity. Even when you go to a race when you are a “TNTer of one”, we are globally recognized and you represent us all. You represent yourself, your teammates, TNT alumni and future teammates. Make the TEAM proud, especially when your performance isn’t what you had hoped.

"All endeavor calls for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hours toil. The fight to the finish spirit is the one... characteristic we must posses if we are to face the future as finishers" - Henry David Thoreau

http://www.socalcoyotes.com/bushido-video.html

The Angeles Crest 100 - My First DNF! Beautiful!

I grew up and currently reside in the San Gabriel Valley.

To the North are The San Gabriel Mountains. These mountains hold within memories, wonder and discovery for me. I've been stomping around in these mountains by ski, bike, and foot since I was a kid.

It was never a question to me that if I ever ran a 100 mile trail race that the AC100 would be my first crack at the distance. I first learned of the Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run in 2006 as my Team in Training friend/mentor/coach Jimmy Freeman was training to tackle this event. I watched him at various points along the AC course that year and saw him finish. "Amazing", I thought to myself. At the time I was focusing more on the roads and the marathon distance. I never considered going after 100 miles. Every year since I have been drawn to this race to spectate what most would call irrational, unreasonable, pointless. There's something very inspiring about watching people push their limits physically, emotionally, and in some cases I'm sure spiritually. The AC100 is considered to be one of the more difficult 100 milers around. "It's supposed to be hard!"

Above - Chantry Flats AC100 2010 spectator (Mile 75ish - inspired by runners who have a marathon to go - over mountains!) 

The race was filling up quickly this year and with a leap into the unknown I took the plunge and registered for the 2012 AC100. Why not? Are we ever ready to take on something big or a task/goal that we perceive as impossible? I don't think we are. If we wait until we are 100% confident to take things on we will often find ourselves waiting and twiddling our thumbs. We stay stagnant and I'm tired of being that way. The training,  the journey to the start of AC100 was a mixed bag of emotions and motivation. There were days when I wanted to get out there and days where I wished I never signed up for the race. Training for this event was a struggle on many occasions and I had to force myself to get out the door and run. There were other moments though that re-affirmed my love for training and running and most of those were because of the friends that came out to share the trails with me and the beauty of the mountains and trails.

Above - training adventures

Pre- Race Travels- I arrived in Wrightwood, CA mid morning the day before the race. I checked in to my cabin and went over to the community center for the medical evaluation (weight and blood pressure) and bib pick up. I was happy to be there!

Above - The day before. 

My crew (crew - friends who would be supporting me throughout 100 miles) arrived later in the evening. The hours waiting from them were lonely and the mind wandered from positives thoughts of success to "what the hell am I doing? Can I get out of here." As I waited I mixed fuels and prepared gear for my crew and the race.

At one point I turned on the television (Dish music - acoustic station) and Bob Dylan's "It's All Over Now Baby Blue" played. I cranked it up and laughed to myself. ..."Leave your stepping stones behind something calls for you..."

Also had moments imagining I was operating a drug den as I mixed my race fuel :D

Above - Should I cut this with more Carb Powder? Are the cops coming? Are they onto me?

My crew arrived, we got things situated then it was time for "sleep". I wish I banked more hours of sleep leading into this race as I only got two hours that Friday night. My mind was all over the place as I sat in bed. Mini panic attacks in bed followed by peaceful mantras to get the SandMan to visit. Somehow I got a few hours of shut eye. The alarm rings at 3:30AM! I'm up and moving and getting ready. The race is at hand and there isn't too much time to dilly dally. My crew of friends are pretty much all business aside from some comments about snoring and they usher me out the door. My cabin is a few short blocks away from the starting line and I walk to the starting line alone in the darkness. I appreciated the moment to be alone and soak in the situation. "This is happening!"

Waiting For the Gun to Go Off - I see many familiar faces of the ultra community at the Wrightwood Community Center. I check in and sit down. There's Louis, Andy, Summer, Kate, Jimmy , Mark,  Anibal, my crew, Andy K, Catra, Hal, and Kam. I'm sure I missed some.

Above - My Crew (Cup, Think Blue TB. The Hawk and Me - not pictured The Dog Runner & Bandito)

I then see my friends Van and Virginia who drove up the mountain to see myself and the others runners on. These two amazing, genuine, kind people are life thrivers and cancer survivors. I am linked with them through Team in Training and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Along with this adventure I chose to add a fundraising component. If I can step up to the starting line of a 100 mile run over mountains WE can raise money to end cancers: Cancers that Virgina and Van have survived / endured and cancer that took my Dad and many others away from us.

Tick Tock Time To Start! 

It's now time to step up to the line. Am I ready? No choice. Here it was! I took my place under the start banner, shook some hands and embraced in a few hugs. Not knowing what to do I got off my feet and sat for a few minutes against a dumpster. I stood up, took a calming breath and recited a childhood Jr All American Football prayer that I recalled from back "in the day": Adapted for running:

"God our Father Hear me pray
As I prepare to run this day
Give me strength and courage too
To do the best in all I do
Protect us as we run this day
This much I ask in Thy name"

Above - grass field and San Gabriel Mountains in the background

 I'm not Catholic, but I did the sign off the cross. Hoots Howls Hollers and the Gun Goes OFF!
It was a relief to hear the start call! The first step and I now have less than 100 miles! I'm making headway!

Mile 0 to Mile 9.3 (Wrightwood to Inspiration Point) The race starts with a climb up along the Acorn Trail to Blue Ridge. Heeding the advice the AC100 vets I take it easy here and enjoy, for a moment, the sunrise.  I pass from the San Bernadino Mountains into the Angles National Forest and smile as I high five the "Welcome, Entering ANF" sign. "This is awesome..."

I'm successful here to not get sucked into the adrenaline of the early race and stick with an easy pace. I get up to Blue Ridge, run the flats and downs (a lie - I peck my way along a section of down because it is very technical and steep) and pull into Inspiration Point aid where my Indy 500 worthy crew awaits. Time is of the essence. I'm a mid to back of the pack ultra runner (at the moment) and I need all the time I can get. I'm in and out in less than five minutes.

(left - sunrise in the San Gabriels)


Mile 9.3 to Mile 13.85 (Inspiration Point to Vincent Gap) Feeling good here. I see new friend Summer on the trail and she is in good spirits, but struggling a bit with some breathing issues. The higher altitude doesn't help. I realize that she is struggling mainly because she is a stronger runner than me and under "normal" situations she is a good distance ahead of me.      Good thoughts on this section as I feel I'm making good headway, but alas...

Mile 13.85 to Mile 25.91 (Vincent Gap to Islip Saddle) I arrived at Islip feeling pretty good. My energy is fine. My crew goes to work as they switch me to a flap (sun/neck protective) hat, give me an iced filled bandanna, and stock my pack with fuels. There's a long climb to near the summit of Mt Baden Powell ahead and a shade more than a half marathon to the next aid. Mt Baden Powell peaks at 9407 ft (we don't go quite that high)and pushing at a faster pace makes one hear their heart beat in their ears. In past training ruins (I meant runs mot "ruins" because "ruins" is somewhat accurate :D  ) this climb was tough for me, but on AC100 day I was feeling great!. As I climbed I was was able to pass four runners. I attribute that to my training, rest (taper, and staying easy/calm the first part of the race. I was not racing these runners, but it still felt good to pass them. Once you climb to near the summit of BP the runner has some ridge running to do.

Some ups and downs to do over beautiful country. On the ridge at mile 18 my right ankle buckled once and I fell to the trail. I got up, limped for about 20 yards, then realized I could keep going. More running and the twisted trail popped my ankle again. This time I did not fall, but questioned my selection of shoes for this race. I had similar ankle rolling issues in these shoes during my training runs, but opted for them due to their great cushion. "Settle down!", I thought to myself.

I ran some more along that ridge. My ankle gave way once again. I yelped in temporary pain. I fell to the trail. "I can quit now", I thought. "I'll pull into the next aid and drop". Makes sense right?

"Bullshit!", I told myself. Sometimes when I roll an ankle there is initial pain. I'll limp on it for a bit then realize I can safely go on without doing permanent damage. "ONWARD!"  POP goes the ankle, "F*C#!" another twist on the same ankle and a return trip to the earth below. I made my way to the next aid station somewhat dejected, but that feeling of dejection would not last too long.

Mile 25.91 to Mile 29.98 (Islip Saddle to Eagles Roost) On the way down the trail to Eagles Roost I knew I needed to switch out my shoes. Again, my crew was greased lightening. They fixed me up and sent me on my way (fresh shoes and all). I had another section to conquer. At Islip the runners cross Angeles Crest Highway and climb up an exposed trail to near the summit of Mt Williamson. My energy was still pretty darned good and I passed two runners along the way. As I passed these two struggling athletes I reminded myself that "I am not competing against you. I am competing with you" Still, in the face of my rolls and falls it gave me a boost. My climbing that day felt strong. I got to the top of that section and now for the downhill. The issue now was that the downhills were difficult on my ankle. I ran, fast, hiked and ran.. On the downhill of Williamson I pulled out my i-pod and turned on the tunes. I never listened to music during my runs, training or races, but I was experimenting to see how the tunes would effect my running. My i-pod was loaded with reggae music. I was alone on the trail and soon was singing aloud. I felt alive in the moment. I was having a blast! At some point heading down Mt Williamson I had a flash of who I am and who I want to be. I thought to myself, "This is me! I'm doing this! I'm going to get to that finish!" I felt joy, satisfaction and 100% alive in that moment along that trail!

 Mile 29.98 to Mile 37.54 (Eagle's Roost to Cloudburst Summit) I pulled into Eagles Roost feeling charged despite my ankle. Once again, my crew greeted me with smiles and and a fresh set of fuels. We shared some humor and I grabbed a chilled coconut water for the section ahead. The section ahead covered some miles on pavement (due to an endangered yellow legged frog habitat) and then a section that takes one into Cooper Canyon. The flat road was a welcome relief to my ankle. I was able to run on the road for stretches and passed a few others who were suffering. Again, we are not competing with each other. We are competing with our "inner goonies" as my friend Juan would say. We are in this together. I left the road for Cooper Canyon and was feeling pretty good despite the adversity. Unfortunately time was running fast. Go go go! Near the stream bed I came across a strong runner sitting on a rock. "Are you ok?" I asked. "I'm done" he said. "Can I help?"... "Nah, I rolled my ankle... I'm done. I was still in familiar territory at this point and felt good about making the next time cutoff. "Move move move" I was looking forward to seeing my friends and pacers Matt and The Bandito who would be meeting me at miles 50ish and 75ish respectively I ran this section once before on a training run and it was marked differently, We ran a different route during the training run. The race directors mentioned this change and it did not register in my mind that there may be a change in trail. Turns out this section was a good half mile longer than advertised in the training run. Oh well... no whining. Maybe I just did. That said, the clock ticked closer to the Cloudburst Aid cutoff. Being on unfamiliar terrain I didn't have a feel for how far until to the next checkpoint. "It's gotta be close." I thought to myself. The clock ticked away closer to the cutoff time and soon my race was over.

I was probably about three or so minutes from making the cutoff. My friends (crew) came down the trail to meet me and we made our way up to Cloudburst Summit.

 The AC100 was my first DNF (Did Not Finish), yet it was one of my most rewarding running, "racing" experiences. I'm not a fast runner, yet I did race this event. I raced against the clock, my doubts and fears. I did not race my fellow runners, but ran with them.

 I'm ok with my efforts and accomplished two out of three goals.
-Finish without major damage to my health
-Do not shrink from adversity -Give the race my best.

Icing on the cake is that together we raised almost $5500 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. These funds will go to fight cancers! I would still like to raise more life saving dollars. Want to reach the ultimate finish line, a cure!
http://los.lls.llsevent.org/kileyakers

The Day After - 

I ventured down to the AC100 finish line to see some of my fellow runners cross the line.  To see friends and those who I had a chance to train with cross the line was great.  I didn't feel like I was missing out because I didn't finish this one race, but felt inspired to become a stronger runner and come and give the AC100 a crack in 2013. Here's a an AC100 finisher. Permission to use courtesy Larry Gassan Photography.

Above - And the last shall be first. The last finisher of AC100 2012. check out Larry Gassan's photography/design here: http://larrygassan.com/

Notes:

I met many great people during my training and got to know others a bit better. Special shout out to Louis for being that extra spark that inspired me to take this on and kept me going. Thanks to Jimmy for being a great mentor and for getting this idea in my head a few years back. I enjoyed my training runs with JZ and not knowing exactly where we were going as well as the tough training run /rattle snake encounter with Coach Manny. The Bandito's midnight singing in the canyon was a treat too. Grateful for the friendship and mountain trails.

Thanks to Team in Training. I would not have taken this on without TNT.

Thank you to all of you who supported the spirit of my adventure and to those who donated to LLS. So many people are touched by this cancers. I will continue to do what I can to help be a part of the cure. 

Special thank to the people who came out and gave me extra support on race day (aka my crew). You guys were like an INDY 500 pit Crew  and Pacers that day and I looked forward to seeing you at all the aid stations. I wish I made more.

SEE YOU AT THE AC100 2013 Starting Line!

The Ray Miller 50-Miler

Where to begin? The Ray Miller 50 miler - good, bad, ugly,beautiful, gnarly, good … repeat.




The Ray Miller 50/50 –

Let's go back a bit first....

Angeles National Forest / San Gabriel Mountains 2006 / The Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run

At the time I was coaching with and mentored by TNT coach Jimmy Freeman. The goal was set probably a year before. Jimmy was going to take a crack at the 100 mile distance. That season myself and the TNT Team had the opportunity to share in Jimmy’s quest. He would train Saturdays after TNT practice, Sundays and throughout the week. One Saturday training morning as I was pulling in the parking lot, Coach Jimmy was walking along the side of the road. As part of his training he ran an all nighter and showed up to coach the Team. “This guy is nuts”, I thought. “Can this be done?”

September of 2006 and Jimmy took off from the starting line in Wrightwood CA. After TNT practice a group of us caravanned to different point along the course to watch and support Jimmy and the other “super human” runners. We first caught Jimmy at mile 50 Chilao. He was looking good for having covered 50 miles on tough trail and altitude.

We next saw Jimmy at Chantry Flats. If you ever want to be inspired go to the Chantry Flats aid station of the AC100. By now it was dark. Runners in headlamps run, hike, crawl out of the Big Santa Anita to the Chantry aid station. When we saw Coach Jimmy at this point he looked a little rough and worn. That’s to be expected after covering about 75 miles on rugged mountain trails in the heat.

Seeing those runners check in at Chantry and then disappear on the trails in darkness is a sight. After 75 miles what awaits them is a marathon to the finish over the toughest part of the course. Amazing.


(Above - weigh in @ Chantry Flats to make sure runners are hydrated and safe)


(Above - Chantry Flats 2010 - THis woman looks great 75 miles in)

Last stop to see Jimmy – The finish line. Early Sunday morning, the sun barely up, Jimmy crossed the finish line at Johnson’s Field. Victory – 26hours and 27 minutes. Crazy!


In the following years I’ve made it out to various points along the AC100 course. Inspired by these athletes doing something extraordinary was part of my inspiration for pushing a little farther and stepping into the world of what they call ultra running.




Leona Divide 50 miler 2009 would be my first crack at an ultra followed by the Mt. Disappointment 50K 2009 and San Juan 50K in 2010.

Fall 2011

I found myself playing with the idea of running long again when I saw a new 50 mile race advertised; The Ray Miller 50 Miler on February 25th, 2012 (Point Mugu State Park). I was ready to sign up when I discovered that my friend Louis already did it for me. Without me knowing Louis went ahead and registered me. Thank you Louis... I think? Just like that I was ready to go. Oh wait, you have to train for these things!

Training For RM50 –

In a nutshell my training for the Ray Miller 50 miler was less than ideal. It was very different than my training for my first and only other 50 miler. I lacked focus and was inconsistent with my midweek training. Once I got my momentum I broke a cardinal rule that I tell my TNT athletes. I went out and tried to cram in a bunch of miles in a relatively short period of time. I did too much too often and wound up going crossing red line. My body broke down a bit and soon after that I found myself with an illness that lingered. Following that I had some family health issues that generated focus sapping anxiety. Thoughts of dropping to the 50K version of the Ray Miller danced in my head. The fence sitting had begun! There would be no shame in shifting to that distance, but when I reflected on my motivations for doing so I discovered the truth.

I was confident I could get through the 50K distance without many issues. I was more comfortable with the idea of running a 50K. Thoughts of running the 50 miler left me with doubt. With my lack of training a 50 miler would pose more risk. I could DNF (Did Not Finish). I could run 28 miles to the first time cutoff, not make it and return to the finish running a total of 40 miles. So close... more than a 50K and less than 50 miles.

Fact is like many, I was afraid to fail or what I held in my mind of failure. That is why I considered the 50K distance. I didn’t want to fail and the 50K was the safe, smart choice. Once I realized why I was fence sitting the decision came easy. I decided to stick with my original goal and attempt the 50 miler. Whatever would happen on race day I would learn from, ”good” or “bad”. It was just running after all! That's what I told myself.

Race Day
The Disjointed /Scattered RR

Howls from the runners and with just enough daylight to start the race without a headlamp the gun went off. Up the canyon we went and I was feeling great!



Beautiful views of the Pacific as we ran the coastal hillside then through grassy La Jolla Canyon. Uphill, downhill and repeat this for miles. Talking with fellow runners, strangers at the moment but united in an effort to reach the finishline. My only competition that day was in my head and on the stopwatch


(Above a view from the same trail circa Summer 2010)

Twelve miles in and I wasn’t feeling so great anymore. The technical, rutty, rocky trails and the downhills were already taking their toll. My quads were starting to feel it and I was starting to question my choice of shoes.

More running and hiking. “Is that a rock in my shoe?” “This sucks!” "This is amazing!" “Why do I do this.” “Look a bunny rabbit!”

Mile 19: Danielson Ranch Aid Station. Greeted by a pack of SoCal Coyotes, a few super heroes, and a giraffe. Still feeling relatively good and happy with my time. I didn’t stay long. That was a mistake. I should have stayed longer and hydrated more. I filled my bottles and was off onto what turned out to be the most brutal section of the course for me.


(Above - Danielson Ranch Aid - Superheroes and a Giraffe)

8.3 miles to go until the Yerba Buena aid station. 8.3 miles of what felt like constant uphill. It wasn’t long until I realized that I was a bit behind on hydration. Climbing the trail I saw the front runners bolting down the hillside. “I want to be like that!” Fast, agile making the downhills look like a tiptoe through the tulips!


(Above - Ultra Champ Jorge Pacheco on the downhill - too fast for the camera)

With about 2.5 miles to go for aid I am now out of fluids and getting worried. "What’s the deal", I thought. I’ve covered this distance (8 miles between aid) before with two handhelds and have had fluids to spare. It was getting warm though and I didn’t take into consideration that I had already covered 19 miles. A hiker is coming my way. I swallow my embarrassment of not being self sufficient and ask if he has any water to spare. We talk a bit and he asks what “everyone is doing out here?” He is at the end of his hike and has plenty of water to spare. That water was some of the best I’ve tasted. Thank you Patrick the Hiker. Wherever you are. You saved my butt!

With about two miles to go until Yerba Buena Aid I see Coach Jimmy coming the other way. He puts his water bottle up for a cheers as we pass. “How are you”, he asks. “I’m feeling it”, I say. “Me too”, says Jimmy. Jimmy would take 5th place that day.

Still on the trail to the aid station and I bump into friend and former TNT Coach Matt. This is Matt's first 50 miler and se’s looking fresh. I think to myself, “damn I need to train better to keep up with this guy!”


(Above: Matt finishes his first 50 miler)

I reach the Yerba Buena Aid (mile 28) before the 1:40PM cutoff. I’m a bit realieved, but the day is far from over. I reach into my drop bag and pull out an alternate pair of shoes. They were an improvement. My feet were doing better. It's getting warm out so I wrap ice up in my bandanna and tie it around my neck. I apply some Tiger Balm to my aching quads.

Out of Yerba Buena for a 3 mile jaunt to the next aid station and then back to Yerba Buena. At the turnaround aid station I was met by more enthusiastic SoCal coyotes and was offered a shot of whiskey by an encouraging Coyote. No thank you.

Along the trail back to Yerba Buena aid I had to find a solution for my lack of fluid containers. I had two handhelds that I could fill up at YB, but would that be enough to get me to the next aid station 11 miles away? I was already feeling the effects of dehydration. Back again at Yerba Buena aid I found myself asking the volunteers if they had a few empty, smallish type water bottles (Arrowhead/ Sparkletts I wasn't picky). The ham radio volunteers saved the day. I reached into their bag of recyclables and pulled out two beauties. Like fine china.

(Returning to YB Aid in search of something to carry extra water)

I filled up my two handhelds and the plastic recyclables and was on my way. Trudging uphill with water bottles stuffed in the back of your shorts is not ideal. Neither is carrying the empties miles to the next aid, but having that warm butt water was essential. The "squeak, crunch, squeak" sound of the bottles against my small waist pack would grate on my psyche.... or was that sound coming from my legs?

Climb, climb, climb back up to Sandstone Peak. The scenery was amazing. Having the discomfort mixed in with the pain made it a little something more special. Got a little surreal at this point.



On top of the climbs there are downhills. Great! Right? No! At this point the downhills were a different type of pain than the uphills. The uphills are a slow, dull pain. The downhills are sharp and quick like shark daggers in the knees and quads. I was moving slow and gingerly. How do those front runners fly down those rutty, rocky trails?

I make it down the long, switchback filled decent but feel beat (mentally and physically). The first 15 miles of this race felt pretty good. Early on, up to a bit past mile 19 I was thinking that I could improve on my first 50 mile time. The Santa Monica Mountains had other plans for me.

Discomfort and pain were with me the following 20 plus miles. I’ve heard other ultra runners say, “If you feel good, don’t worry it will pass.” Somewhere between miles 35 and 40 I had a shift in thinking. I’ve also heard ultra runners say, “the rough patches will pass.”

I got tired of feeling the pain, I got tired of feeling beaten. I realized that there would be some pain for the rest of the race. It wasn’t going anywhere. In a nutshell, I surrended to the pain and in accepting it, the pain became less.

"What counts in battle is what you do once the pain sets in." - John Short

Heading down to final aid station I felt renewed energy. I played with my pace and found that I still had some in the tank. Going faster and speeding up my foot turnover actually rejuvenated my spirits and my legs!

Sycamore Canyon was beautiful! I ducked and dodged along the trail, crossed the stream a few times and eventually found myself at the last aid station. The Santa Monica Mountain Goats were in charge of this aid station and were very supportive and helpful.


(Above - Approaching the Goat Aid Station)



At the last aid station I put on my headlamp (actually around my waist), emptied my shoes of pebbles and headed along the last 5 miles of the course (about 2.5 miles uphill and then 2.5 miles down to the finish / roughly). The last climb wasn’t too bad. I felt like I was making good time, but worries of not making the final cutoff time crept into my head. I had 1.5 hours to make it. My limited experience on this last section of the trail from two summers ago told me that I could, yet doubts and fear of failure persisted. This was the loneliest I felt all day. These were the same thoughts that led me to contemplate dropping to the 50K earlier in the week. I was right up against what I saw as "failure". I turned off my headlamp and kept moving forward in the dark. I didn’t want to focus on landmarks. I just want to focus on effort and push. I had to push, but for some reason part of me didn’t want to. For a few minutes a part of me that wanted to quit. So close to the end and part of me wanted to shrink from what I saw as the challenge. I don’t understand that.



I tried to quiet the noise in my head and repeated a mantra of “keep driving, keep driving, keep driving” to myself. I thought of my friends Van and Virginia Garner at the finishline.


(Above - Friends and cancer Warriors Van and Virginia the day after the race at a TNT fundraiser)

I thought of my TNT SGV Team and our honored teammates. “Keep driving, keep driving keep driving!” I heard So Cal Coyote Howls on the ridge above. On the trails below and behind me I saw the headlamps of other runners pushing hard to beat the clock. I made it up the incline and onto the flatter fire road. I broke into something akin to a run. “Where’s that turn onto the ridge that I know from two summers ago? Once I get there I will have a better idea of how close I am.”

I make it to that familiar ridge and hear the ocean waves below.


(Above - Coach Jimmy - Mile 46.5 of the Inaugural Ray Miller 50-miler. Topped out on the Fireline Trail climb with about a mile to go in the climb before a 2.5-mile descent to the finish line. ALL 50-milers went up and over those mountains (the Tri Peaks and Sandstone) in the background, from the valley floor (Sycamore Canyon) which you can't even see the base of in this shot...)

I see headlights on PCH below and bump into So Cal Coyote Kevin. He’s out there supporting the runners in the dark. Thank you Kevin. “How’s my pace” I ask, still fearing I won’t make the cutoff. “You’re good!” he says. Still I’m not convinced, but I’m starting to believe. It’s all downhill from here. “I’ll probably make it as long as I don’t turn ankle. If I turn my ankle will I still have time to crawl to the finish? Don't turn an ankle!”

I’m feeling better now that I am in somewhat familiar territory. A light appears! It’s Kate Martini-Freeman! “How am I doing Kate?” To others it’s obvious that I will make it with time to spare, but I’m not buying it. “Keep that pace! Stick with it and you will be fine”, says Kate. Thank you Kate.

Downhill, downhill, downhill in the dark with my headlamp. A light pops out from the coastal chaparral. The Bandito appears! It is TNT Coach Juan Rivera!


(Above - Juan Rivera/Bandito running 35 miles because...)

Surprised and happy to see him, the Bandito runs behind me shining his flashlight on the trail ahead. More light! “Juan, how much further?” I ask. “You got this coach. A few more turns.”

The Bandito and I reach the last switchback. We see the lights of the finish line. Howls and cheers are heard. Jimmy Freeman is on the trail near the end and gives me a high five. Thank you Jimmy.

There’s the finish line! Right there in front of me. It’s not a smooth finish in the dark. You have to step up along some stone steps to go under the banner. Van Garner yells in excitement as I take my last three or four steps on the course, “watch your step, watch your step!” Thank you Van.

I step across the finish with the Bandito behind me still shining his light. 13hr 15min 38sec.

Just like that it was over. Oddly, it seemed like time flew by.


(Race Director Keira Henninger puts a medal around my neck)

I am a bit blinded and dazed by the lights. My eyes adjust and I see friends Virginia and Van Garner, Janna, Sarah, Kim, Melissa, and Juan’s little girl Emmy. Van and Virginia I expected to be there. The others I had no clue that they would be there. Thank you friends.


(Above - Friends at the finish line)

It feels good to stop. Van asks if I want a soda. “A coke would be good… and a chocolate milk!” I gulp those down. “Van, you got another soda and another chocolate milk?” I gulp those down.

We wait for other runners to come in. I’m wondering if Louis (my friend who registered me for this race) would make the cutoff. I have no clue where he is on the course.

Ten minutes later there he is! Jimmy leads the crowd in a chant of “LOUIS! LOUIS! LOUIS!” His first 50 miler. Louis crossed the finish line with five minutes to spare!
Congratulations Louis!


(Above - 50 Mile Louis crosses the line)


(Above - Three endurance athletes / Bandito, Emmy and Pelon)


(Above - Spawned from SGV Marathon Training / Iron Kim, Louis and Emmy)

What a day! I am blessed. It was good, bad, ugly, good… repeat. The best part of the day was crossing the finish line, looking up from the lights and seeing the faces of those who came out to support me and the other runners that day. That was very special and is my favorite memory of my second crack at 50 miles. Whether you were there physically or there in spirit, your mojo inspired me to “KEEP DRIVING, KEEP DRIVING, KEEP DRIVING!”

Happy Trails,

Kiley

NOTES

* All pictures taken by others. If I stopped to take pics/ would not have made it.
* Figure out shoe situation
* What I used to call the "little things" count. X-Train and nutrition will make me a stronger, happier runner. These are no longer the "little things", they are as important as miles.
* Thank you to all who supported me whether at the race or there in thought and spirit.