Good eats

Need healthy food that tastes great?  It's almost time for The Holidays, when most people just accept that they'll gain a few pounds at the expense of indulging in tasty treats.  But what if these treats didn't always have to be bad for you?  Why must we sacrifice our hard earned abs, just to enjoy a few nice meals with family? 

A skilled cook can easily figure out exciting flavor combinations without overdoing it with sugar and butter.  Check out the pictures provided by Chef Elizabeth Sasseman and tell me you don't want to try her cooking:

Oh and she is a stud Ultrarunner who completed the Leadville 100 this year at the baby age of 23!  So you know she understands the importance of proper nutrition for the long run.

Photo:  Chef Elizabeth Sasseman

Warning:  this is a shameless plug for my friend Liz's cooking, but seriously I'm plugging her cooking and food because after talking to her, I can tell she is really passionate about cooking healthy food for people who might otherwise not have the time to do so.  Not to mention she is a fantastic cook who makes healthy food taste great.  Its not easy to do. 

Check out here website here:  http://chefelizabethsasseman.com/
Like her facebook page:  chefelizabethsasseman
Send her an email:  chefelizabethsasseman@yahoo.com

Photo:  Chef Elizabeth Sasseman

Photo:  Chef Elizabeth Sasseman

Photo:  Chef Elizabeth Sasseman

Silver Rush 50 Race Report

How did I end up back here again? I thought as Ryan, Liz, Justin and I drove into Leadville.  Having run the marathon just two weeks ago, this felt strangely familiar.

Yesterday we watched the bike race and got some...  beta... on the trail conditions and what the course was like.  In typical Leadville fashion, a lot of the race took place on old mining roads, which was fine with me, while the aesthetic nature of single track is lost, you do gain wonderful views from the open roads.

Somewhere before the race started, I lost Ryan and Liz and found Ryan and Alaina.  Im just that awkward single guy tagging along with various couples.  After taking care of some early morning business, Ryan (Case) and I shuffled towards the starting line, which coincidentally was at the base of a steep hill.  First one to the top of the hill wins a prize (no, really they do).

In there somewhere

I walked up the hill.  And the masses swept around me.  Then once we hit the single track on top of my hill we started running for real.  Maybe I was running too fast, but something didn't feel right.  I was off my game, physically.  That put me in a bad place mentally almost immediately.  With something like 2 miles in, I was already feeling less enthusiastic than I needed to.  Just keep grinding along, you'll be good bro.

I think part of this feeling was that the first 10 miles is essentially all uphill.  Sometimes the up can be deceiving in that you don't even notice its going up, but your legs feel it.  Add that to the fact that you're running at 10,000 feet above sea level, and its easy to get down.  I kept running trying to find my rhythm.  It wouldn't come.  Where was Hagy and Jenny, my faithful crew who always lift my spirits?  This race felt like Mohican, compacted into one shorter race, with all the ups and downs I experienced there.

I was feeling particularly discourage as the trail just kept going up and up.  Looking back I have to laugh at my thoughts during the first little bit of the race.  I was thinking about dropping.  That would've been terrible, dropping only 10 miles into the race.  Oh, this just isn't your day, blah blah excuses excuses.

Then I heard someone belting out "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, his name is my name too".  I immediately knew this was none other than the Ryan Case.  I gladly ran with Ryan for the next 10 miles, finally, being able to talk to someone (and finishing the long uphill) my brain and legs came around and I was in slightly a better place.  Along the way we went through the Printer Boy aid station, where I saw Gary a friend of a friend whom I had just met, but again, it was super motivating to see a smiling face.

My climbing legs were working really well on the ascent to the high point of the course on Ball Mountain.  Run run run hike run hike hike run run run run hike etc.  you get the point.  The combo of a strong power hike and efficient running cadence really helps me cruise these kinds of sections.  In fact I love climbs (10%+) that dictate this sort of effort, rather than 10 mile climbs at 6%.

Smiling still

I was finally starting to feel good, if not a little dehydrated.  The aid stations for this route were approximately 6-7 miles apart, which in the mountains can be 2 hours if you're not moving fast enough.  My little handheld bottle was not cutting it.

Its too bad I didn't notice this earlier and make an effort to drink more fluids at the aid stations.  Because soon the combination of my aggressive fueling strategy and lack of water caught up with me and I was full on nauseated.  I had made it down the pass that went over Ball Mountain (mile 21ish) and was heading towards the turn around point when I was forced to go from a run to a jog, or else I was going to lose my cookies.  I saw the leaders coming back towards me from the turnaround and tried to give some encouragement and not puke on them.

This continued for way too long.  I had gone through the turn around and was heading back up the mountain, feeling terribly sick while still trying to get in calories and water.  Since this was an out and back section, I was now seeing a lot of other runners, which actually helped lift my mood a lot.  Despite the sick feeling, the constant interaction with others helped me forget about my stomach and just focus on saying hi to people and running the gradual climbs on the mining roads before the steep climb.  In fact, it wasn't until mile 28ish that I let out a huge belch and felt like I was given an instant energy boost.  I suspect my stomach finally emptied all the fuel I had been forcing down into my intestine where it could be absorbed.  I really cranked through this section taking risks on the downhill and generally enjoying myself.

Some reference points added.  My graphic design/computer skills are out of control these days

I caught two or three more people before reaching the Printer Boy aid station, but noticed that one runner behind me would not be deterred.  What the hell, no one gains ground on me late in races like that!  I ran really hard after Printer Boy, despite the wicked long climb, and then turned around.  This guy was 3 steps behind me.  He said "hi" and we started to chat.  I immediately realized it was Mike Aish, a former Olympian and 2:12 marathoner.  hah.  Of course it is.  No wonder I can't outrun this guy.

We ran together for a good 10-12 miles.  He was super friendly and was giving me encouragement as my stomach had started to sour again.  I don't think I took on any fuel for the last 1:30 of the race, which is just a terrible idea.  But I didn't want to barf, and have lots of other excuses.  Mike and I ran together, and he told me he was just out for fun and had done a 7.5 hour run the day before.  I felt like we were crawling along for this last 10 mile stretch, which is a hard section, because although its slightly downhill, the gradient isnt enough to really carry you, and you have to actually run it, which if you're hammered like I was, its torture.  I couldn't believe how much I was looking forward to anything that had an incline, I felt so much better going up than down.  Somewhere along this way, Mike suggested that I had 4th all wrapped up and he would let me finish ahead of him out of kindness.  No way was I going to let this guy, who was clearly the better runner and just keeping me company, let me finish in front of him.  I was already planning out my "fall" right before the finish line so that he would be forced to beat me.

Finish.  Where are my sandals?

Luckily right around then Mike, the course record holder and last year's winner, told me we had 5k left, to which I replied "well get after it!"  He sprinted away and put 2 minutes on me in a mile.  I realized I was close to the finish, put on my game face and ran the last mile or so to the end.  My feet hurt so fricking bad I couldn't wait to rip off my shoes and get my flip flops on.

Overall I was pleased with my performance, but I am sure I lost at least 5 minutes due to the nausea and another 5 due to being a total and complete wuss on the last 10 mile decent.  Oh well, always nice to have room for improvement right?

Leadville Trail Marathon Race Report

I'm a little nervous.  Its been awhile since I've run a race.  Like 6 months.  I haven't raced since Yankee Springs in January.  Now I'm standing on the starting line for the Leadville Trail Marathon, advertised to have 6,300 feet of gain over the 26 mile out and back course that is run entirely at over 10,000 feet above sea level.

Since I've been in Colorado I've had the opportunity to run with a bunch of great people, and most of them also signed up for the marathon.  We camped out in Leadville the night prior to the race after hanging around the cool little mountain town all day.

Then some guy fires off a shotgun and the stampede begins.  I'm a little amazed how hard everyone is running from the get-go.  Its faster than I'm used to.  And all uphill, errr maybe up mountain is more appropriate?  Soon I'm gasping for air.

A wee bit more climbing than I'm used to

I get a glimpse of the trail ahead.  More switch backs and more climbing.  Hmmm.  I'll slow down a touch I think.  I'm still gasping for air.  Damnit.

The first aid station is at about 4 miles into the race.  If you can't tell by looking at the elevation profile, its quite a climb up to that point.  I got some water and a gel and was on my way.  I think at this point I had settled into 25-30th place and was just trying to keep moving at a reasonable pace.  I typically try to move through aid stations as quickly as possible, and I continued this.  After cresting the Ball Mountain aid station and running quickly down the old mining roads, I started feeling a little better.  A combination of some downhill and scaling back the pace a little bit seemed to be paying dividends.  I occasionally looked around, and was greeted with gorgeous views of mountains and bright blue sky.

Survival mode

Coming through the aid station at the bottom of Mosquito pass, I really started feeling better.  Which is strange as you are still running at 10,000 feet above sea level.  I had passed a few more people, including some fellow retching and making awful noises in the bushes.  The climb up Mosquito starts off actually fairly gradual, and after a good amount of downhill to reach this point, I decided to run as much as I could.  

Since the race was an out and back, and the turn around point is at the top of this climb, the trail became rather crowded, as we had rejoined with the half marathoners who were both going up and going down the pass, depending on how far along they were.  Luckily we are on mining roads, and very rarely was there not enough room to maneuver around people.  It was kind of nice to have so much mental stimulation during the climb, which could be quite brutal.  I ran, then hiked, then ran, then hiked, alternating on shallow and steep grades and using my breathing as a guide as to when to settle into a pow-hike.  I actually really enjoyed this section as I felt I had a good grinding gear.

I passed several more marathoners, and had the pleasure of seeing the leaders come blitzing down the pass.  Then a marathoner passed me; he was running the whole damn climb, I couldn't help but admire his consistent climbing cadence.  

At the top of the pass I quickly filled my bottle (2:18), stepped on the timing mat, and when I was told that I was somewhere around 11th or 12th place, I decided to let it all go on the descent from Mosquito and see what happened from there.  

I'm a fairly good downhill runner, especially when I'm in the mood to take some chances.  I took some chances. This was evident as I passed 3-4 other marathoners on the descent.  Including the guy who had climbed so well up to the top of the pass.    Actually I still don't know how I didn't trip or fly off the edge of the mountain on this descent, but thankfully it all worked out.  The descent seemed to shake something loose in my GI track, and I was eagerly anticipating a port-a-potty stop at the aid station at the bottom of Mosquito.  Unfortunately I saw two children who were cheering on family go running into the bathrooms right as I ran up.  Crap (pun intended), I'm not waiting around for that.  I started to run up the deusche grade mining road to the top of Ball mountain and after a while my need for a reststop reseeded.  This is lucky as there is nothing but shrubbery and rocks above treeline.    

At this point, I've run enough races to know that the return trip was going to be interesting.  I'd been running at threshold for almost 3 hours, something I don't practice often.  

I kept eating and must have been feeling ok, because I kept reeling people in.  I would jog with them for a brief moment, chat and recover, then take off to catch the next person.

I kept up that routine for the rest of the race, except as I got towards the finish I tried to make my passes rather emphatic, especially on the downhills.  Trying to take care of myself until the very end of the race, I took an S!cap at about mile 21, as I noticed I was very satly, but had not yet started cramping.  

Speaking of downhill, for me, the last downhill was a sufferfest.  It was technical as there was plenty of loose rocks and washed out ruts on the mining road, slightly rolling, and lasted 3-4 miles.  I was putting everything I had into the first couple miles, but as I couldn't see anyone in the distance I let up on the pace for a tad and almost tripped over some rocks.  OK, lets finish this out strong I decided.  So I hammered my legs into oblivion running downhill at sub 6:30 pace.  I ignored my screaming feet as I had reached that point where you don't care about pain and just want it to be over.  

As I crossed the finish line, I was told I had finished 6th overall (500ish starters?) in a time of 4:05.  I was very pleased, I had been thinking anything under 4:30 would be very good, and hadn't dreamed of running 4:05 in a race with 6,000 feet of gain.  I didn't care as much about the overall placing as running a time that I was satisfied with.

Our whole group finished strong, and had a big grin (grimace?) on their face when they finished.  It was a great social environment with all the finishers being extremely friendly and congratulatory.  The race gave out coffee mugs as the finishers award, which I like (I think some ppl were disappointed and wanted a medal)  We hung around for the rest of the day and I rehydrated with Michelob Ultra (blech). 

Yeehaw

Liz and I both collecting our gold mining pans as age-group awards
 (we're the goofballs still in our running shorts)

Final thoughts:  While the trail race is a little expensive, it was well worth the $.  There were tons of goodies, plenty of food and beer, and a super enthusiastic environment.  While I don't usually like races with 1,000s of people, I do see the allure of larger events which really have a great environment.

Gear:  Scott T2 Kinabalu, The North Face Better than Naked shorts, Ultraspire Quantum belt, Ultimate Direction 20oz quickdraw water bottle.  

Food:  I don't remember?  Like 10 gels, and two bottles of sports drink?  No solid food.