Into the Woods

You remember that part in the Matrix when Neo was first talking to the Oracle?

In the scene, the Oracle looks at Neo.  She looks above his shoulders and asks "Do you know what that means?  It's latin.  It means know thyself."

When I watched that movie when I was 13, that part resonated with me.  I took it to heart and always made sure I discovered myself as much as I could.  Over time, I have taken that to a degree where I have stopped myself from doing things I know I would enjoy.

That sounds bad at first glance but when you have an addictive personality, you attempt to protect yourself from potentially altering your lifestyle whether it be in a good, bad, or indifferent way.  This includes partaking in activities and events I would thoroughly enjoy.  For example, the only reason I have not learned how to surf is because I know I would want to do it year round and push the limits. Knowing that, I have stayed away and just stick to body surfing for the time being.

So when I started to get in shape to do my first triathlon, I stumbled on the book "Ultramarathon Man" by Dean Karnazes and got introduced to the world of Ultra Running.

Ultra running is simply any distance greater than the marathon distance of 26.2.

To give you a quick summary of the book, Dean starts ultra running on his 30th birthday and runs 30 miles.  Dean hasn't ran since he was 15.  He just decided to run 30 miles for his 30th birthday because he felt his life was stagnant.  He was suffering from a mid-life crisis and did something about it.  So after he recovers from torturing his body for 30 miles, he starts training and then he mistakenly discovers ultra running races and decides to give it a try.

Throughout the book, you relive his first 50 miler, 100 miler, and the toughest race on the planet: Badwater.  And through his experiences, I was enamored and inspired to do start running ultras myself.

Now, when I started doing triathlons, I was in the worst shape of my life.  I was intimidated by doing a sprint distance so even thinking about running over 30 miles when I haven't even biked that distance or even finished a half marathon (at that point in time) was way out of the picture.

However, the seed had been planted.  I knew that I would eventually do one.

So when my good friend Jason told me he was doing one and ended up not doing much training, I started to gain interest.  I had just come off a very disappointing race in Timberman where I gave up so I wanted to punish myself in a sense since I was mentally weak and the majority of any ultra marathon is going through mental struggles.

It didn't take much convincing.

I signed up for the Blues Cruise 50k in Reading, PA held at Blue Marsh Lake three weeks before the race began.  

The longest distance I had run by that point: 15 miles.

I'm ready.

So when Jason, Buggey, and I lined up at the starting line, none of us were ready.  We were all ill-prepared...to put it lightly.  So we planned to stick together, walk the uphills, take our time at the aid stations, and offer support to each other.

The gun goes off and it's a pretty cool scene.  Just under 400 runners with full of energy and wearing water backpacks, handheld water bottles, and/or fanny pack endurance kits running together on a mostly single track trail to better themselves on a fall Sunday.

The morning was perfect for running.  Since Hurricane Joaquin did the polite thing and went out to sea, the air was still cool from all of the rain and it was overcast with temperatures around the low 50s.

Perfect...simply perfect for running.

At mile 6, Jason, Buggey, and I were talking fantasy football and enjoying ourselves as we continue to embark on our journey.  Then, when we crossed a bridge, all of us simultaneously starting screaming in pain.  Buggey was in mid sentence when he started to yelp.  We start slapping the back of calves and knees with hands of fury to stop this immediate pain.  After a few slaps, I look down to see what the hell is going on.  A yellow jacket bee was stinging me.  I slapped the bee off but the stinger was still stuck in my skin.  I pulled out the stinger and assessed how Buggey and Jason were doing.  They were both wearing high socks and I guess the yellow jackets could give a shit about that.  Jason ended getting stung around 8 times.

This is the first time I have ever encountered a yellow jacket.  I have always heard that they are super aggressive and that aggressiveness increases when you disturb their hive.

Now, all of us are in pain going forward.  Like we needed to up the pain meter at all.

Around mile 8, the pain in the run started to settle in my quads and calves.  23 miles to go.  This should be interesting.

At the aid station at mile marker 10, a change of landscape occurred in the course.

The first 10 miles was relatively flat and easy going.  There was barely any elevation change and the course is supposed to pack just under 4000 feet of climbing.  Oh boy...we are only getting started.

Well, right after we stocked up on some goodies and got our water bottles filled up with Gatorade and water, the hills hit us hard.  Now, it helps us greatly when you are power hiking and not running, but these hills are on a slope percentage of 20% so it is no easy task.  We worked the up hills and utilized the downhills to our advantage.  We took our time and made sure we didn't expend too much energy while utilizing what the course gives us.  Taking advantage of anything that becomes available is vital to us finishing well.

At mile 12, something weird happened.  The pain burst onto the scene but in a unique way.

Pain entered into all parts of my body.  The nervous system was acting on overdrive but this was different.  Something I have never felt before.

The pain felt good.  Really good.  The serotonin, dopamine, and endorphins were flowing freely and it put me in almost a euphoric state.  So, I went with it.  I locked into this comfortable pace and started moving.  Over time, Buggey and Jason's voice start to soften and before I knew it, I couldn't hear them anymore.  I quickly looked behind me and they were nowhere in sight.  I wasn't planning on doing this and it was my intention to stay with them but I locked into this mode and rode it like a wave.  I didn't want it to end.

This is the epitome of masochism.  I had never felt like this before and I never wanted to go away.  It felt incredible to be in such pain.  There is no other way to explain it.  Logically, I know I shouldn't  enjoy being in so much pain but I did.

This naturally induced drug high lasted until around mile 20, where the race really started and the pain was the only thing that remained.  At this point, this is the farthest I had run since I did the marathon in the Ironman over three years ago and I still had 11 miles left to go.  This is also where the toughest part of the course was.  There was zero flat sections.  I was either going up or down and even though I was power hiking all of the uphills, it still hurt.  A lot.  My hip flexors, calves, hamstrings, quads, and my meniscus were screaming at me.  What started to hurt the most was the downhills, which should be my best friend but since my meniscus were so tender, that any pressure from going downhill gave me tremendous amount of pain.  I tried to manage as best I could and put the pain out of my mind.

At mile 25, I thought about doing a 50 miler and how depressing this mile marker would have been with the pain I was feeling and knowing I was only halfway to the finish.  I gained more respect for that distance.

Thank God I only had 6 miles left.

Every mile started to become my mission.  I started to stare at my GPS watch more frequently, rationalizing every move I made.

Just get to the last aid station.

Just get up this hill and take your time on the downhill.

One step at a time.

After I stop and eat some delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at the last aid station (mile mark 26.5), I thought I hit the jackpot.  The course became flat, wide, and on grass.  Plus, with just loading up on some calories at the aid station, it gave me a energy boost.  I started moving at a decent clip.

I look down at my watch and observe I am moving at an 8:15 pace which 27 miles in, I thought was pretty impressive.

I started passing people left and right and each pass giving me more energy and confidence going forward.  The pain that was plaguing me before became a distant memory.  If the last few miles are like this, I will finish way above my original time.

Jason, Buggey, and I thought we would be around 6 hours.  Then, when I broke off and looked at my pace during the half way point, I knew I would break six.  At around mile 25, it became apparent that I would break 5:45 unless something catastrophic occurred.  When I looked at my watch just as I heard my GPS watch ring the 28th mile in, breaking 5:35 seemed to be insight.

Then...mile 29.

The last two miles was completely uphill and it destroyed every bit of confidence and energy I had.  All of the pain came rushing back and I hit a terrible low.  I didn't want to be out there anymore.  Everything hurt and all I could think about was "I could be at my friend's house watching football.  Why the fuck did I do this?!?  I wanted to quit so badly and just walk my way to the finish.  I just wanted the pain to stop.  Every step hurt more and more and tears started to appear in my eyes.

One step at a time.

This is why you signed up for this.  To feel extreme pain and push through it.

I power hike the tough uphills and run when it is feasible.

Then, appeared the finishing area.

I saw Jason's parents and wife and couldn't be happier to see them.  They were great to come and support us and fantastic at finding multiple points to see us and cheer us on.  They have no idea how much that means to us.  It's a great power boost.

A smile comes across my face because I am too tired to do my usual Dragonball Z power up finish scream.

I cross the finish line at 5:41:49 and 109th overall.

I am humbled and invigorated by the race and distance.  It did exactly what I needed it to do.

I needed to fight through pain and push harder to get through it.

I needed to be humble by what real pain feels like, not perceived pain.

I needed to connect again in why I do this.  I had lost my way.

It did all of this and more...now I am addicted to ultra marathons and looking for more.

Know Thyself

Living on the Edge: Part 2

This is the second part of the Crib Goch climb.  If you need to catch up, click here.  Again, this is directly coming from my travel journal.  98% of this is verbatim.  I only altered a few things due to grammar.

To the story:

I get terrible sleep due to the fact I am retarded and decided to watch more Youtube videos (1) and some episodes of Top Gear.

(1) Below is one of the videos I watched.  Warning!  It is extremely graphic and something I will never forget.  I actually just watched this again for the first time since this very story commenced.

                                                          I am not a smart person.

Brilliant Idea

I check the weather (2) and it is not looking good.  I am slightly happy inside because I really don't want to do this.  I usually love these type of adventures but the websites continually warn to not do it if you are not properly equipped. 

(2) Rain and Wind...ahhh  What I am doing?

I had a T-Shirt, jeans, running shoes, and a cheesy smile.  Some may say that won't cut it. 

However, Jones is determined to do it and I don't have the heart (or balls) to stop him.  George drives us up to the start of the hike after we make some sandwiches for breakfast and lunch.  When he drops us off, we immediately see Crib Goch, yet we can't see the top of the mountain since it is in the clouds. 

It's pretty windy and it rained last night. 

Let the adventure begin.

As we start the hike, I see people on the mountain and it doesn't appear they are hiking at all.  They are literally climbing.  I look at Jones and he's a bit surprised as well.  He has never done this either, but he claims his 78 year old grandpa did this 5 years ago.  I will not be shown up by someone three times my age (3).

(3) I don't have an ego problem at all.

We press on and as we get closer, I stop and say to Jones "that mountain is unbelievably intimidating yet awe inspiring."  My adventurous side is starting to take over which is a relief, but I am still very afraid.

I would also like to note I am afraid for one reason.

Lindsay Keogh

I love the girl with all my heart.  I never would have imagined or conceptually ponder how much  anybody can love anything as much as I love her.  I am consistently thinking about her and as long as I have her, I must take care of it and putting my life in a bluntly stupid situation is a contradiction of those beliefs.  If I was single, I truly wouldn't care and I would be all about this.  I know that sounds unfair to the rest of my family and friends but their are honestly two people in my life.

Lindsay and everybody else.

We get to a point where we can take the pussy way out and take the beginner's trail up to Snowdon Mountain or continue our way up Crib Goch.  Jones and I look at each other and press on.

There was no turning back now.

The further we climbed up the mountain, the tougher it became.  There wasn't any clear cut path.  You made it up as you go.  We were with three other groups of people and all of us went up a different route.  At one point, Jones and I stood for 15 minutes deciphering which path to go up.

This picture was taken while Jones and I were contemplating the correct route to get to the top of Crib Goch.

Jones then said something I will never forget:

"I have to be honest, I never would have thought there would be this much climbing."

I wanted to wring his neck.

All day he was saying that it's just a serious hike.  Boy, was he wrong.

We were putting our lives in danger and we weren't even on the top yet.  I couldn't show him my anger though, it would only exasperate things and that's the last thing we need at this point.

After a little more thinking, Jones finds a path of to start the climb up again.  We start moving at a good pace and I see the top through the clouds, I then look to the right and saw only a white abyss (4).  I almost lost my grip due to the immediate sense of vertigo.  It was so intense.

(4) When the clouds cleared up for a quick second, a 3000 foot drop appeared.  I was 3-4 feet away from the edge and didn't realize it.  It is a good time to mention I have an extreme fear of heights.

Now to paint a better picture, the cliff came together in two ways.  The one side was slanted, probably at a 45 degree angle.  If you fall, you would have a solid chance to grab something and live.  Unlikely, but at least there was a reasonable hope to get out alive.  The other side was a straight free fall.  You fall on that side, goodbye world.  The safer side was on the left and death was on the right.  Needless to say, I stayed to the left....to the best of my abilities.

After the vertigo took over my body, I yelled "Oh my God."

"What, what happened?!?" Jones replied with a sense of fear in his voice.

I tell him not to look to the right.

He does anyway and dittos my exact reaction but then gives awesome advice.

"Just look at the rocks"

Simple enough

It works terrifically.

To aid in the process, I start singing "Just keep swimming"from Finding Nemo.  It's retarded how much this was helping.  I was getting strangely comfortable ...well until we got to the top.

 
What a sense of accomplishment!  However, this was just the beginning.  It's hilarious now, but when we got to the top, I see one of the groups having a fucking picnic.  I was in shock and then Jones says,

"Oh, what a good idea"

"Are you fucking kidding me man?  I just want to get through this."

Jones completely ignores me and pulls out a sandwich he made in the morning and starts to eat it.  So, I try and relax, look at the mountains and lakes in the distance and marvel at it's beauty.  We were in the heavens as the clouds surrounded us.  It was blissfully surreal in the most frightening way.  I laid down on the rocks and looked up.

I was in disbelief where I was.  Never would have thought I would be doing any of this...ever.

When Jones finished his freaking sandwich, we started our trek across the top of the mountain.  I was petrified at first, but as I constantly was thinking of Jones advice and singing Finding Nemo, I slowly started to calm down again and get comfortable.  I was moving at a good pace, but the wind was crazy.

It was blowing at a furious speed but fortunately, it was blowing from right to left so periodically, I would climbed down a little bit to guard myself against the 20-25 mph gusts.  If it was blowing the other way, it would have been extremely dangerous.

After a few minutes, it appeared we were on the way down, but then, a second peak with a huge ridge immersed itself from the clouds.  I started to become disheartened.  I then looked to my left and saw a path way down and around the cliff.

Thank God!

I actually called Lindsay at this point just to hear her voice (5).  It made me happy for the time being.

(5) I was legitimately scared at this point.  I thought the hard part was over.  A part of this story I left out when I initially wrote this journal was that the path I saw was off the beaten trail.  It was about 1500-2000 feet below and we had to walk down some loose rocks and around some massive boulders to get there.  It wasn't a marked trail or path at all but it was safe enough to get down the mountain to the specific path on the way back up to the top of Snowdon Mountain.  I saw a lot of people walking and was so relieved to see civilization again.  We had lost the other three groups we were hiking with.  I was just wanted to get down and be around others.  We were by ourselves and it appeared we had went as far as we could.  Jones and I stood there for about 10 minutes and just when I started to walk down to the path, Jones found a way back up Crib Goch so we could finish the hike.  I wanted to push him off the cliff at this point but knew I couldn't leave him.  So this brings us back to the story...

Jones and I regrouped and completed the difficult portion of Crib Goch.    We joined civilization again for the first time in about two-three hours.  People were walking and it was splendid to see others again.  Everyone exchanged greetings and pleasures.  People were just happy to see others after a long, arduous climb.

Next, onto Snowdown Mountain.

To be completed in Part 3.

Thanks for Reading!

Dissecting Deflategate

My goodness, I didn't want to do this.  I usually don't write about stuff like this but my God, has this story taken the country by storm.  As if the NFL needs any more publicity and controversy heading into the biggest game of the year, yet, here we are.  In the middle of the dumbest sports story of my lifetime (1).

(1) To this point... I hope....I really hope.

This story isn't about the Evil Empire of the New England Patriots.  It isn't a story about how Jim Irsay is one of the biggest babies in sports (2). And crazy enough, it's not even about the irrational hatred for Tom Brady and Bill Belichick.

(2) Don't think for a second he didn't produce this report.  The Indianapolis Star started this circus and Irsay has been behind some of the biggest changes in the NFL today...conveniently after a playoff loss.

It's about cheating.

This is about how we as a country view everything in two different matters and only, two different matters.

Black or White

Good or Bad

Hero or Fraud

There is zero gray area in our society and Deflategate is a prime example of it.

Let's assume the Patriots did deflate the balls to 10.5 pounds purposely for the Colts game this past Sunday to avoid any future turn out on what the NFL or anyone else decides because no one can trust anything that comes out of Roger Goodell's mouth anymore.

With this assumption, let's ask a few questions and see if we can determine whether or not the Patriots cheated.  My answers will be in bold.

Could Deflategate have helped the Patriots performed better? Yes

Could Deflategate have given them a psychological advantage as well as a physical one? Most likely

Did the New England Patriots gain a distinct advantage over the Indianapolis Colts?  Maybe 

So let's ask the main question...

Did the New England Patriots cheat? Undetermined

What's the definition of cheating?  Acting dishonestly or unfairly in order to gain an advantage, especially in a game or examination

What is the rule stated by the NFL?  The NFL Football must be met to specifications of 12-1/2 to 13 1/2 pounds.  The footballs are measured two hours and fifteen minutes before kickoff by an NFL sanctioned referee.

So by the NFL rule and definition of cheating, did the New England Patriots cheat? Yes

When the story first came out, quarterbacks from all over the league weighed in on the issue.  It didn't matter if they were active or retired, yet their opinion was consistent.  Every quarterback tinkers with the pressure and feel of the footballs to their approval and comfort.

Aaron Rodgers states he likes them over-inflated.

Eli Manning gives them a special rub down with oils (3).

(3) Not a joke...At least this is linear with his uniquely shaped helmet for his uniquely shaped head.

Troy Aikman likes them under-inflated (4).

(4) This was legal when Aikman played.  The rule used to be that the home team supplied the footballs.  The NFL changed the rule so both teams supply their own footballs...to their preferable liking.

Brad Johnson paid equipment managers at the Super Bowl before they took on the Oakland Raiders $7500 to have them at a specific weight and feel.

These are all quarterbacks from all different skill levels and all have won Super Bowls.  So if all of these quarterbacks admitted to altering the pigskin to their comfort level to get a competitive advantage, does that constitute cheating?

By definition and the rule, yes.  Simple as that.  But what competitive advantage did that give each of them over the opposition?  They still have to make the throws.  Receivers still have to make the difficult catches.  And the running backs...how does this help them?  Did the under-inflated balls help LaGarette Blount's dead corpse score three touchdowns and run all over the Indianapolis defense?

I hope I don't have to answer that last question.

So back with the quarterbacks' preferable football pressure.  If everyone is altering the footballs illegally(6), isn't every QB cheating?  So if everyone is cheating, doesn't that mean it's a level playing field?  Continuing with that narrative, a level playing field, isn't the outcome of a competitive contest now decided by planning, execution, intelligence, and skill level.

(6) There is no way to prove or disprove whether the previously mentioned quarterbacks exceeded the limits for football pressure so for the sake of argument, I am assuming they broke the rules.  Also, a $7500 influence on the pigskin's weight and feel definitely makes you question things.

Now, bringing back the definition of cheating:

Acting dishonestly or unfairly in order to gain an advantage, especially in a game or examination

With everyone breaking the rules and creating a level playing field in the process, is that considered cheating? No

Now when everyone watched the Patriots thrash the Colts, didn't it become extremely evident that the game was decided by planning, execution, intelligence, and skill level?

That last question was rhetorical.

Now, if you want to stick with the black and white analysis of everything and anything, then yes, the Patriots cheated.  But if you want to consider everything that was discussed and use the eye test, it is completely evident that the Patriots did not cheat.  They were the best team in the AFC all year, the number one seed, and played their way to the Super Bowl...deservedly so.

And if anyone wants to question my bias...here you go.  I am a Jets fan and have a big bet on Seattle to win.  I still not have forgiven the New England Patriots for Spygate and it puts a smile on my face knowing that they have not won a Championship Ring since Spygate broke out.

Spygate was cheating.  Deflating footballs was not.

Thank you for reading!

Oh, How Things Have Changed

On Black Friday of 2014, I attended my 10 year High School Reunion.  I was really looking forward to this.  We had a great class.  Everyone got along.  We obviously had our cliques, but there was barely any animosity toward anyone throughout my three years there (1).

(1) I attended Bishop Ahr my freshman year.

It was always great going to high school, seeing friends all the time and barely having any responsibilities. 

Who am I kidding? I had zero responsibilities. Just one of the many reasons I loved high school.

So, when I arrived at the reunion, I was extremely disappointed when only 30 people out of 320 showed up. 

Way to have my back Class of 2004.

I still had a lot of fun talking and catching up with everyone.  It was great that everyone was doing so well and in so many different ways.   But it got me thinking...

I am sure everyone has changed quite a bit over these past 10 years since we all split ways after project graduation. 

How much have I changed?

We all surprise ourselves as we change over time, yet it's still remarkable when we look at past versions of ourselves and state, "Holy Shit! I never thought I would ever do this!" or "If my 16 year old saw me doing this now, he/she would have kicked my ass into oblivion!"

It's fun to think about since none of us can predict the future, yet we can recall how we thought back in high school with accurate clarity. We contemplated on who we would become and what we would be doing because don't you remember that question your guidance counselor asked during your junior/senior year when applying for colleges:

"Where do you see yourself in 10 years?"

Your answer never usually materializes, whether it's good, bad, or indifferent.  We all had dreams and visions on what we believe would become true but it never works out like we envisioned.  Our goals get squashed by reality with a frighteningly high frequency (2), but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing.

(2) If you are below the age of 16, all of your dreams will come true.

Times change.

We change.

Adapt or die.

Ok, this is going to get dark really quickly.  So let's get into the things I saw myself doing which I do not partake in anymore.

Basketball

I had a bright future in the game I love most, but I quit on myself entering my junior year in high school and then was too afraid to try out in college.  When I stopped playing in high school, that became the turning point in my life.  I don't think I would have studied engineering and most likely would have attended another college. 

However, I always played pick up games, participated in recreation leagues (Go EMUS), and shot around with the friends.  I even started refereeing basketball to stay close to the game I love. 

At one point, I started writing on the behalf of the NBA with friends from High School before that exploded in my face in the smallest microcosm of the Social Network (3).

(3) I was the Mark Zuckerberg of the group.  And not in the way of creating the website.  As in the way of pushing people away through my aggressive actions and beliefs.  Sour subject to be honest...moving on.

But due to my huge involvement with Triathlons, something had to be put to the side.  Basketball had always been a tough sport on my body (specifically, my ankles) and as I got better with endurance races, basketball became a tough sell (4).  It had to go.

(4) My last two injuries: dislocated knee---playing basketball and severe high ankle sprain---refereeing basketball.  Even when I sprained my shoulder after I got hit by a car, I was out two weeks from swimming.  These past two injuries: Two months and counting from running.  I rest my point.

I never thought I would stop playing basketball. 

Now, I avoid playing it for two reasons.

Injuries and Addiction

You have to pick your battles sometimes.

Video Games

I just don't play them nearly as much as I would like. 

Just not enough time in the day. 

What can you do?

Something I never thought I would be doing.

Reading

This is the hobby that if I told myself 10 years ago "You are going to love reading," I would have responded with a "Go Fuck Yourself."

When I was younger, I sucked at reading.  It did not appeal to me.  I had zero time and patience for it.  I was always better with Math and Science so never felt the need to get into reading much.  I was also a young boy and too distracted by sports, video games, and tomfoolery to get into a something so static. 

I am laughing out loud to myself imagining me sitting still and reading books.  It didn't mesh.

But as I got older and into triathlons,  I started reading books about endurance competitors to learn more about the activities I have engaged in and find inspiration. This started a chain reaction. One book led into the next.    I started to find new subjects instantaneously.  I even started to get into graphic novels.  I now have a waiting list on my shelf and it's only getting bigger.  

What I find most appealing is the opportunity to expand my mind and personality.  I find a strong connection in the things I am reading which doesn't surprise me, but what does surprise me if the amount of material that is out there for me to connect with.  And to think I would get this from reading. 

Never in a million years. 

No...

....Just no....

I always lived by learning about myself and discovered new things through experiences with the people I meet, know, and love.  Never did I think I could find this by reading about Jimmy Connors (5) or Scott Jurek.

(5) I am eerily comparable to Jimmy Connors:
             -Manically competitive
             -Loner
             -Extremely loyal
             -Gambler
             -Married to an Irish Woman (5 months away!)
             -Lives in Santa Barbara (Mine as well as Lindsay's dream location)
             -Tries to connect with every one he meets
I thoroughly enjoyed his memoir titled "The Outsider"

I get excited when I fall into a good book.  It calms me down, yet inspires me simultaneously.  It's very enthralling and something I never would thought about doing 10 years ago.

Unless, I wanted to give myself a swirlie.

Thanks for Reading!

Living on the Edge: Day 1

In August of 2010, I backpacked through Europe for one month and kept a journal for a portion of the trip.  The below story is an experience I lived through during the excursion and it will live on in my memory forever.  What you read below is directly taken from the journal.  Of course, any grammatical errors will be corrected but I will be adding my usual footnotes containing my recollection of the events transpired almost 5 years later.  I am also going to add anything I left out because this going to be written in multiple posts since it covers two days.

The story begins on Day 3 of my trip:

I slept in again, actually to 12 this time.  What a fantastic sleep it was.  I got 11 hours of great sleep.  Pretty sure it's still jet lag, but that is to be expected.  I feel great but Sai (1) should have woken me up sooner. He informs me Jones (2) and I that he has to meet up with the city council to collect more welfare money.  

(1) Sai hosted Jones and I in his house.  Pretty cool and relaxed dude

(2) Gruffydd E. Jones is a friend I met one year prior when I went to Ireland for Saint Paddy's Day.  We were staying at the same apartment with 6-8 other people.  I connected with him the most as I met a bunch of people through the couch surfing network but something was different when we hung out.  I was enamored with the way he lived his life and I believe he was only 19 at the time.  He told me places to visit around the world and how great the country of Wales is.  I told him I am planning to couch surf through Europe the next year and would love a travel partner.  He promised to travel with me when I go through the UK (Northern Wales, Glasgow and Edinburgh).  He evidently kept his promise.  He also has the best Facebook profile photo I have seen to date

A pretty crazy system.  

All Sai has to do is convince the council he is trying to find work and they'll give 300 pounds a week.  That's nuts!  I like Sai, but he is taking advantage of the system.  

Anyway, due to this, we can't cycle down the coastline and visit the beaches like originally planned.  Instead, Jones and I have to move along to our next place to stay.  A small town named Nanttle.  Jones already hooked up with the couch surfer host through text, so it's all good.  

It's a bit hilarious and remarkable in the same breath since Nanttle has a population of 66, yet there is someone willing to share their home.  It puts a smile on my face.  So, we take the bikes back and say our goodbyes to Sai.  He tells me he may meet up with me down the road, which I hope he does (3).  He's a pretty cool guy and I would thoroughly enjoy his company.  We will see though.

(3) He doesn't

Jones and I continue on by stopping at the market to pick up some food supplies to hold us over for two days.  It only costs 11 pounds ($20).  Superbly cheap.  We take the bus to Talyfron and meet a young gentleman who is willing to show us the way to Nanttle.  We have to walk around a bunch of quarries and a town where an emergency evacuation occurred.  It was an old village with abandoned cars, ruined houses, poisonous waters, and mountains of slate. 

The young man informs us the village was abandoned in the 1930's . 

It's too bad.  Slate is an expensive material and a lot of money could be made.  I didn't understand while people just didn't come back here and take some to make a ridiculous profit.

As we walked through, the quarries and scenery is beautiful.  It's absolutely remarkable to see the world through my eyes (4).

(4) I have a huge ego.

So much beauty . 

I am constantly reminded of American Beauty and Lester Burnham's quote when I survey the land before me.  Just breathe Derek (5)

(5) Lindsay's eyes are going to roll into the back of her head after she reads this.

Then, Jones spots a house on the highest peak in the quarry.  Naturally, he suggests "Great place to have a picnic, eh Derek." 

Of course I cannot say no, it is going to be great to take in the sights, plus I am fucking starving.  We have rotisserie chicken, Welsh bread, hummus and various fruits to qualm our hunger.  It's simply brilliant.

Afterwards, we move to our destination of Nanttle to meet George Lockett, our couch surfing host.  He is a very nice fellow.  He welcomes us with open arms and right as we are done putting down our bags, he offers to take us to the beach.

Fucking A Right

I have been looking to swim a bit after we were supposed to today anyway.  On the trip over to the beach, I ask questions about George's life.  What I hear blows my mind.

George Lockett is a semi-famous spiritual healer and been practicing it for 20 plus years.  He has written multiple books about the subject, been interviewed countless times, and runs his own website.  He followed this lifestyle after studying meditation for 10 years in monasteries around the world.  Through his travels, he has met people who levitate themselves, objects, and even walk through walls (6).  He states he obtained the ability to remove himself spiritually from his body and explore the universe.  The man gets up at 4 or 5 everyday and meditates for hours.  He is at total peace with himself.  I can't help but admire and marvel at his life journey.

(6) I know this sounds crazy and unbelievable.  I still believe him today.  It was the way he was talking about it.  Very calm and collected.  Never sounded like he was gloating or bragging.  He was just discussing his life work like someone explaining what they do as a bank teller.  I don't know.  It's just the way he was talking.  It made me a believer.

We get to the beach and my excitement is overwhelmed when I see the water.  I enter the other side of the Atlantic immediately.... and then Jones tackles me.  It is pretty cold, but I have been in colder.  I ask Jones what he thinks of George's lifestyle. 

He's heard of it before and actually experienced this first hand. 

Not himself exactly, but as a witness.

He was in the Himalayas and this Buddhist monk who has been teaching his practices for years was going to a special burial place to die and be reborn in another entity.  This wasn't a funeral.  It was a celebration.  The whole community gathered around and cheered for him as this was the most beautiful way to pass on.  Everyone was generally happy for him as he was practicing the most praiseful act one can perform.  The most amazing thing is he just walked in a tomb to die under his own will and belief. 

I still can't fathom how one person can just walk to his death when there is nothing wrong with that individual.  It blew my mind. 

After Jones told me the story, I swim a 1/3 of a mile to get some good exercise.  It feels good to swim.

When George takes us back, Jones suggest our next adventure. 

Hike Crib Goch and Snowdon Mountain.

I have never heard of Crib Goch, but we do some research and it is the number 1 trail in the UK for extreme hikers to partake in.  I am excited until he shows me some pictures.  It is a knife edge mountain cliff over 3000 feet in the air and many of people have died trying to cross it.  I am now bound with fear and start to psych myself out.  I regrettably look at some more photos and youtube videos about the mountain but one video raises my spirits. 

These gents walk briskly across the mountain with ease and a hint.  I got this. 

The weather is sunny in the video and information suggests you don't traverse Crib Goch when it rains, fogs, and/or is extremely windy. 

We shall see what tomorrow's weather brings.

Nighty night

Race Recap: Philadelphia Half Marathon

This was the last race of the year and a second straight season I signed up for this particular event.  It's always enjoyable to do events consecutively as it starts tradition and familiarity with the course so you can set Personal Records and build memories.


I love the city of Philadelphia, which is an interesting take on my persona since I hate big cities, yet the city of brotherly love connects with me in a way where New York City, London, and Los Angeles do not.  Maybe it's the people, the beauty, or the accessibility, or maybe it's even the immense pride of history and identity.  It's probably the combination of all those attributes but all I know is I always enjoy my time there.


Now, I am competing in my second half marathon in Philadelphia with my close friend Jason(1) which is great for two reasons. 

(1) Kaz Alert! Kaz Alert!  My good friend Kaz couldn't sign up for the race in time (because he was designing and launching defense ballistic missiles off of the coast of Hawaii...not a joke...the man designs defense ballistic missiles for a living) so he decided to join us about a quarter mile down the start.  He ran with us for about 2 miles and then slowed up a bit.  Kaz ended running a 1:38  half marathon (He ran about 1:37 but I added a minute to eliminate any possible discrepancy from his point of entrance) which comes out to a 7:28 pace.  You know when the last time he ran...September!  September!  Almost a two month layoff and he runs an elite pace.  Just incredible.  He never ceases to amaze me.


-We are pretty much neck and neck in running ability so it will be interesting to see who comes up on top.  Jason destroyed me last year by over two minutes and set a personal record in the progress.  I was looking to get my revenge... in a friendly competitive way.

-It's always great running with friends and with our abilities so close, we will be able to push each other to a better level.


The race starts and we went out way too fast.

I was following Jason's lead since he seems to be more in tune with his pace than I am.  Jason runs more than me and works extremely closely with his GPS watches.  His one watch measures vertical oscillation, cadence, ground contact, and heart rate and Jason works endlessly with the data achieved to help him improve his performance.  It's one of the many reasons he has improved his overall game.  He has even shown me a few tricks of the trade to help use the data for my own personal gain. 


The first two miles, we are averaging 6:30 miles, which is a big no-no.  Every running professional and their mother state the best way to enter a race 13.1 miles or longer is to start below race pace, work into it, and then in the later miles, exceed that goal pace for a strong finish. 


Jason and I don't listen well.


We know we are moving faster than race pace but we both are in good form.  I am feeling great and I see zero struggle in Jason's stride so maybe we are going to have the race of our lives and exceedingly exceed our own expectations, which is pleasant....in theory.


Over the next few miles, we slow ourselves closer to our goal pace which is to break 1:30 (6:51 average mile over the 13.1 mile distance) and feel like we are a good place to do so. 


Then, after mile 7, are pace slows just a tad.  It was slight but noticeable enough in where we both understood we were going slower than the goal pace.  This put us a in tricky spot since we still had 6 miles left to go so we couldn't take the risk of putting in the extra effort to gain that additional time and then bonking out by the finish.  So we decided to coast the next few miles until around mile 10, where we can put forth a solid 5k effort to give us a chance to break 1:30.


Mile 9 is where the biggest hill in the course resides.  It is short yet steep and when you are trying to PR, these challenges and obstacles get in your way.  However, we both kill the hill and make our move shortly thereafter.  We both fuel up at the aid station right after we pass the Mile 10 marker.  I start making my move and slowly put distance on Jason.  He tries to stick with me but I gain a few seconds every 10-15 strides.

When I get back into Central Philadelphia and observe the Art Museum (where the Rocky Steps are located as well as the finish line), a sense of relief sets in.  I think about the past season and my future going forward with triathlons and long distance races as the reality sets in that I will just be missing the 1:30 time.  I see the finish line and finish as strong as I can.

1:30:25.

Typical...

I am upset even though I set a personal record but I had nothing left to give.  I left it all on the course.  I was hurting at the end and thought it was a great way to end the season.  It sucks I didn't PR but I am more than content with my performance.  I think this time is due to poor execution than anything else.  Something I will look into going forward.

Jason finished about a minute behind me.  He wasn't too happy either as he ran a little bit slower than last year but it's a time we can build on together.

So with that, the season has ended and the off season has begun.

Thanks for reading!

Race Recap: LBI Triathlon

This race happened back in September so this may be a little late.  It only took to 2015 for me to write about it but nevertheless, it's time to look back.


After being half-disappointed about the Ironman 70.3 Timberman race, I needed something to boost my confidence.  It has been three years since I competed in my last sprint triathlon (1) so signing up for the family organized race in Long Beach Island was way overdue.


(1) A sprint triathlon is the 5k of triathlons.  They may seem daunting at first but anyone who keeps in decent shape and knows how to swim can complete one of these.  Therefore, everyone that I talk to who says "I wish I could do that" (and there are a lot of you), here you go.  No excuses.  The swim ranges from 1/3 to 3/4 miles, the bike, 10-18 miles, and the run finishes off between 2-5 miles.  Not really daunting when you break it down.  Also, anyone who reads this blog, I would be more than happy  to give advice and supply motivation.


A really underrated thing about the Sprint triathlon distance is that it takes a small part of your day.  In sprint races, you are out of there by 10:00 the latest and this includes the trophy ceremony, so you can make plans and feel great about yourself the rest of the day.  Plus, it doesn't take a lot out of you.  Half-Ironmans, Ironmans, and Half-Marathons do damage to you.  You'll feel it throughout the day and can be exhausting to say the least.  The only thing you want to do is sleep and eat.


Actually, my biggest concern entering a Half-Ironman is having to drive back home shortly after the finish because the worst thing you can do is cram yourself into a car and drive 4-7 hours.  But I have no choice, I can't take the time of work and I am definitely not going to fork crazy money over for air fare(2).


(2) This is why I consistently pray for Lindsay's bakery to take off so I can afford to take some extra time off after races.  Every book I have come across states the last thing you want to do is get into a crammed car and drive for hours on end after completing a race.


With that being said, besides regaining some swagger, I was mostly looking forward getting on with my day with Lindsay and spending time with her.


Entering the water, I realize I can probably do the entire swim walking on the surface, which probably be enjoyable to watch.


The first portion of the race is conducted in the bay, which is great because I do not want to deal with the Atlantic.  Nevertheless, the air-horn goes off and I probably get punched in the face every other stroke.  Yet, somehow, I finish the swim extremely quickly.  I can honestly say I did not complete seven strokes consecutively without having to stop due to getting struck, getting cut off, or being ran over by a much better swimmer (3).


(3) I forgot I was swimming against Michael Phelps in the Olympics.


I get on the bike and it is flat and fast.  So fast, I someone wipe out badly on the first turnaround. 


That must have sucked.


The bike course is three loops, which is great so Lindsay can see me multiple times and cheer me on.


Then I experienced something for the first time.


For about 4 miles, I was in first place.


Me.


First Place.


I couldn't believe it.


It was a pretty cool feeling being the first person going around the turnaround and everyone cheering you on.  This is something I could get used to.  My confidence was beaming.


However, I knew this wasn't going to last.  I felt like I wasn't moving fast enough on the bike to sustain the lead.  I tried to push more but my body wasn't responding.  I still ended up averaging 22.5 mph but I got passed by three people before I unclicked the pedals.


Now to the run. 


Boy, did this feel good.  I was moving.  I was trekking around a 6:20 mile and feeling great.  It felt like I was in High School Cross Country again.  The only problem.  The guys in front of me were going faster.  A few, a lot faster.  But I knew this was going to happen.  My running isn't strong enough to compete with these guys yet.  Maybe in the future, but not right at that moment.


I come into the finish line at 56:45 and in 6th place overall and 1st in my age group.


Confidence boost achieved


Waiting for the results, I found something I am going to hang onto forever.


The 1st place guy finished the race in 50:18.  He destroyed the entire competition and dismantled me by over 6 minutes.  I sat there thinking how I could possibly get to that level and then I found out his age.


The dude is 50!


50 years old.


That is not a typo.


Simply incredible.


Nobody beats father time but few can argue that we as a society are finding ways to excel at top levels for an extended period of time.  I just saw a story where a 94 year old man ran 100 meters in 19 seconds and an 87 year old woman doing parallel bars at a gymnastics studio.  Now this, a 50 year old destroying the competition.  You want to know the second place guys time:


53:12


He beat him by three minutes.  Doing the three mile run, that's 2/3 mile lead.  That's just insane!


In triathlon, their are 40+ year old professionals and upper 30 year old world champions. 


These type of stories give me more than hope.  They give me purpose that I can do this for a very long time and do it at an elite level...if I ever get there.


Which is more than enough ammunition for a pathologically competitive person.


Thanks for reading and Happy New Year (4)!


(4) My New Year resolution is to write more and watch less TV.  Let's see how this pans out. 

RACKSMAN...& Friends Ragnar Documentaries

Listed below are a few videos of close friends conquering the Ragnar.  The reason I am posting this is because Ragnar is the only event that I can classify running as fun (1). 


(1) Tough Mudder and Spartan Race aside, all of the Color Runs, Zombie, and Obstacle Course events are people just overpaying to act like a kid.  Yes, they are fun but I do not include that in the running realm.  I could rant on this for awhile but I digress.


Truly fun. 


I will always say running is fulfilling and enjoyable but never declare it as fun. 


Running hurts


Running is tough


Yet, the Ragnar makes all of those things worth it.  You meet a lot of cool people and connect with your friends in a unique matter.  It's a rare experience and I am glad we have people able to do it for the past 4 years.  It has become a tradition and will continue to be one moving on. 


Over those 4 years, we have had over 30 different friends come and compete in the event, which shows you the interest and intrigue this race brings. 


So, I hope you enjoy these videos of our conquests and think about getting into running yourselves.  We are doing the Ragnar Adirondacks next year and we depart on the last weekend in September so be inspired and get out there (2).


(2) Yes, I understand it is snowing right now but Sunday is supposed to be in the high 40s again. 


The first video was produced, edited, and filmed by John Glavasich. This is from 2011


Enjoy

This next one is from our latest adventure.  It was filmed by Kendall Green, Jonathan Lin, Christopher Baron, and Derek Smith.  It was artfully put together by Christopher Baron.  You will notice that the two are entirely different.  One is long and story driven where the latter is a collection of random experiences throughout the event.

I hope you like both.

I hope it inspires you.

Enjoy

If you need more Ragnar, read my accounts from this exact adventure.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Thank you for reading...and watching!

Ragnar Adirondacks: Lake Placid

This is Part 3 of this post. Click here for Part 1 and here for Part 2.






If you think there is a let down after my run, you would be dead wrong.







Baron and Jason took on their legs and destroyed the competition.  By the time we handed it off to Nanners and Van 2, we had a passed a total of 8 runners and put sixteen minutes on the Canadian team. 




We finished the 38 miles in 4:48 minutes and put 16 minutes on a team that had a 16 minute head start on us.  It was incredible!


So let's break down the math:


As a team, we averaged a 7:34 pace throughout the night, by ourselves (1) (for the most part) and gained on 8 teams in the process. 


(1) Running by yourself compared to running with/against others makes a huge difference in performance.  When you are running by yourself, you are doing exactly that, competing against yourself.  Your only measurement is compared to past performances which is known as ghosting.  This is can only take you so far.  You can definitely improve and run well but it can take you to a certain point and depending on your personality, that point varies from runner to runner.  I run mostly by myself but it could only take me so far.  It wasn't until I started running with Jason where I saw I needed improvement and what specific areas I needed improvement in.  So the point I am leading into is when you are running in the middle of the night by yourself, it is difficult to find that extra gear comparatively running with/against other Ragnarians.  Other runners give you an extra boost.  This factor is something I always tell first time runners.  Every time I speak with newcomers, they all state how they are going to perform badly in their first race since they're running so-and-so minute miles in their training.  However, they fail to realize how much the other competitors raise their level of performance without them ever noticing.  You will always run faster in races.  It's just a fact.  The same goes with the Ragnar.  We did this by ourselves.  Much bigger accomplishment.


And with simple addition, the Canadian team ran the 38 miles in 5:20 minutes equating to a 8:25 pace.  So every mile, we gained 51 seconds on them which is simply incredible.  And to pay respect to them, they were a good team.   They were actually better than us. They ended up beating us overall since they stacked their second van and one of the many reason we had to play catch up in the beginning.  


After we handed it off to Van 2, we got some much needed rest and waited to receive updates along the way. 


Van 2 was moving well and gaining on multiple teams.  Everybody was getting some kills and moving up through the ranks.  When everyone woke up from their respective slumber, we were not  the only van in the parking lot.  Actually, their was at least 30 vans still waiting for their teams to come in. 


We were kicking some ass now.


When Mandark came striving in, it was completely foggy out.  You could barely see 20 feet in front of you. 


This led to a weather anomaly. 


Kaz was about 3 miles into his double leg and he was climbing this one hill and I shit you not, the fog just disappeared...in seconds. 


It was like a switch. 


You could barely see anything in front and then...


bang...


...it was sunny, clear skies, and absolutely beautiful.


You have to remember this occurred at the end of September.  So the leaves had changed colors and it was magnificent.  You could do nothing but marvel at the sudden change.  It was unexplainable.  None of us has ever seen anything like and doubt will ever experience anything like it again.


Going back to running, through all our last legs, the only thing that needs to be noted is that we all struggled...mightily...


...except Baron.


He looked fresh and ready for more.  I cannot stress enough how much he killed this entire event. 


So we finally handed off to Van 2 for one last time and they had their work cut out for them.  Their entire run of legs was all uphill leading up to Lake Placid.  It was nuts. 


They only had to run 28 miles but they had to earn that mileage. 


For example, LT had a 4.1 mile run that was all uphill.  No exaggeration.  Their wasn't any change of elevation.  Just here you go sir, go run up this hill and enjoy.  But you want to know the funny thing is?  Ragnar rated this leg as "Moderate".  How they achieved that ranking, I have no idea.


When I asked him how he did, he stated that it was nothing.  A piece of cake.  He cruised up the course passing 8 people along the way and making a mockery of the competition in the process.


John passed 12 people during his leg, which was extremely impressive since their was zero shade along the course.  The weather was in the high 70's and in the apex of the heat.  Van 2 had only run in the dark up to this point so running in the heat was something new to them and the temperature level was not expected to be this high making it even more difficult to acclimate their bodies too. 


This cannot be overstated.


People have experience heat strokes due to this sudden change of temperature yet they handled it with a calm zeal.


Nanners and Katie finished their legs with exuberance and excitement.  They were happy to be finished since they did most of their damage in the early goings.


This is also Standard Operating Procedure for Nanners.  It's almost second nature at this point.


This leaves us with Mandark who I wish I was in the Van with the most.  Every time I saw him, he looked like the life was taken from him.  He gave everything he had in every leg.  I admired his effort because when we all saw him during the homestretch in Lake Placid, he had nothing left.  He had left it all out on the course.  It was the perfect metaphor to the Ragnar. 


We had all left it all on the course and as we all sat in a circle reminiscing and celebrating what we all had accomplished together, we collectively understood we did something special.


You ever enter in a shit situation and come out 10 times better than you expected because you battled through adversity and came out stronger and better than before.  Then, you look back and realize that you will never experience anything like that again because the sequence of events will not transpire like they did.


That's what this Ragnar was.


I was pissed off going through the event but came out happier than I can comprehend.  We took a unique situation and turned it into something special...together.  It could not have happened any other way and I will always look back at these past 48 hours as one of the best successes in my lifetime. 


So with that being said, thank you to all that competed and ran.  From the bottom of my heart... thank you.  You all kicked ass and I hope this event inspires you to train harder for the next one.  


Because the next time, we are coming for you Saucony Elite Team (2)


(2)  They're a professional running team by the way...LET'S GO!!!!


Thank you for reading!

Ragnar Adirondacks: The Run of a Lifetime

This is Part 2 of the RACKSMAN...and Friends adventures at the 2014 Ragnar in the Adirondacks.  Click here for Part 1.



As I stood there with the team waiting for Mandark to finish his leg, an anger started to brew. 



Mandark was trying everything in his power to make up time so we wouldn't have to run by ourselves in the middle of the night.


However, the damage was already done. 


We were 16 minutes behind the Canadian team and the odds were stacked against us.  We will be running along Lake George by ourselves as the Ragnar crew was cleaning up behind us. 



I stood there trying to control my anger. 


It may seem childish to get angry at something like this since we weren't technically competing against anyone but ourselves, yet all I felt was a building rage.



I was angry with Ragnar for scheduling the latest time possible for us when we didn't fit the bill.  The last wave is reserved for the best of the elite and that's something we were not.  We have good, solid, and hard working runners but nowhere the level to compete against the Saucony Elite Team (One of the teams in our heat and yes, that was their real team name).


I was angry with myself since this is the first Ragnar I put together.  Kaz and my good friend Al usually organizes the event but I decided to give them a break since it's a pain in the ass scheduling everything and Al couldn't join us. 



So, thinking I could be savvy and try and get the team some extra sleep, I told everyone to put down faster average paces to get a later start time. It never occurred to me we would get the 1:00 start. Now that we did, I felt partially responsible and it pissed me off.



Ragnar is a very rare experience and I always enjoy the cammaderie and friendships you develop with the other runners, but I put all of the newcomers in a bad position and possibly ruining their time.



I started to lament which only led to more anger. 



It started to become evident as I have the terrible ability of wearing my emotions on my sleeves. 

Everyone could see it.



It was so apparent that my good friend, Jordan (He was also our driver), pulled me aside to try and calm me down.  He simply stated that I know you are angry and you want to make up time but do not get yourself hurt.  You still have 9.5 miles after your 11.8 and the team needs you.  Don't do anything stupid.  Calm down and run intelligently.



I heard every word even though it was difficult to face.



He was right.



I wanted to make up the time immediately and it only pissed me off more knowing I didn't have the ability to do so. 



However, we could install a plan to make up the time so by the time Baron and Jason go, we will be in distance of passing people and putting Van 2 in a better position to take over and do some damage.



It started with Kaz.



I have been exposed to Kaz's natural ability to always to be in shape for so long now, I take it for granted.  The kid probably hasn't ran over 12 miles since we did the 14 mile trail run right outside Philadelphia 11 months ago, yet this kid wasn't only going to complete his double leg, he was going to make up time in the process.  I don't ever doubt him because he never disappoints.  I guarantee he probably didn't even do an 8 mile run before the Ragnar but here we are, relying on his ability to run 7:30s in his sleep.



So the plan was simple.  If Kaz can make up 5 minutes over his 12 miles and I can make up 7-10 minutes with my 11.8 double leg, Baron and Jason will definitely get us back in the mix and pass some people.



Challenge Accepted



Mandark comes charging in and passes the slap bracelet to Kaz.



It's on



Is it any shock that Kaz destroys his double leg?


Absolutely not.



He glides through his 12 miles at a blistering 7:40 pace making up five minutes and twenty-five seconds in the process.  He did better than expected but the craziest thing is that he would have made up more time if the second portion of his double leg wasn't against a very good runner in his own right.  Actually, they mirrored each other.  Kaz actually made up the 5 minutes in his first portion but the Canadian team was not going to go quietly in the night.  He was only able to gain twenty-five seconds on the second portion.  I was even timing them both at different checkpoints to see what the difference was.  There was barely any.



Nevertheless, Kaz more than did his part and now it's my time to contribute.



I had a brutal double leg containing the hardest hill in the course.


Here let me describe...actually, no, just look at the below maps.  You'll get the picture.

The first portion is pretty simple.  It's mostly downhill giving me the ability to move swiftly while saving energy for the second portion.  I need all the help I can get.

I told you the maps would paint a clearer picture.


This leg is titled "The Ragnar".  The name signifies the toughest, most daunting and hardest leg on the course.




I took the challenge on...topless...even though it was 45 degrees out.  I needed to stay as cool as long as possible since this course would definitely get my blood pumping.



I start the 5.8 mile leg fast and furious.  I try and hold back but too pissed off to listen to my brain telling me to slow down.  All I could think about is making up time and catching the Canadians.  It was like a poison.  Every downhill I hit,  I went at it hard but there was a problem. 


Every rise in elevation, I could feel it in my quads. 


Could I really be feeling the pain from the initial 10k I ran earlier in the day?  Maybe...however doubtful... but not entirely out of the realm of possibility. 


I know I felt like crap but I need my body to come through.  I was starting to get worried.



I still attacked the downhills with speed and a quick turnover rate, even more so now, since I started to get nervous about the 3 mile hill that was only miles before me. 



I figure if I do the entire 11.8 miles in an hour and a half, I will most likely catch up to the Canadian team and may even pass them.  At 1:30, that would put me at around a 7:38 pace which is more than asking a lot of myself considering the course and miles that lay before me in  my third run, but I don't care.  We need to catch some teams.  We need to get back in this. 



While Kaz was running and we were waiting at the exchange for Kaz to pass us, the Ragnar staff was waiting for us to get there so they could clean up.  It was humiliating.  At least to me it was.



Granted, it was pretty cool to talk to some of the volunteers and Ragnar organizers as we were giving them shit for a terrible start time and trying to get free stuff at the finish line(1).



(1)We did.  I have about a three month supply of Clif Bar in my basement.  Score



It still infuriated me to be in this position.



About half way through the first portion of the run, a car pulls next to me. 


Mind you, it's past midnight, pitch black (there are no street lights, just my head lamp providing about 50 feet of sight directly in front of me and that's it), and I'm running on the opposite side of the road.  I can only wonder what's this about.



It's one of the Ragnar organizers.  She gives me crap about going to slow and I am never going to catch the other team at that pace.



I deserve that for giving her crap about our start time.



The goal was to finish Leg 15 at exactly 40 minutes to give me 50 minutes to conquer the "Ragnar Leg".



I came into the exchange at 42 minutes



Shit



I am already behind.


Damnit



My team cheers me on and hands me a much needed Red Bull.



I need all the help I can get.



The Ragnar Leg begins.



It's approximately one mile from the start of Leg 16 to the base of the 3 mile hill and that hill was all I thought about. 



But then, something else entered my mind.



I destroy hills.  There is no way the other team can run up this hill like I can.  I have been training on inclines since High School Cross Country.  I am going to murder this.  I am to pissed off and motivated not to conquer this hill and pass anyone who shows an ounce of weakness.  We are going to get back into this race so we can start passing people.  I am tired of running by myself.  I could have done this at home.  It is dark.  There is too much ruffling of the trees for my liking.  This needs to stop.



At this time, I think of what Jordan told me before we started our set of legs and quickly put his calming advice to the back of my mind.  We didn't drive 5 hours to upstate New York to hang out with deer.  I can do that back  in South Plainfield.



Once I see the base of the hill, I go into attack mode.  I start moving up the mountain like I have never moved before.  I am light on my feet and every stride feels stronger than the last.  I start to build a cadence I am getting comfortable with. 



This is what this hill has to offer?



I am about halfway up the hill and I see our Black Van (2) and all I could think about is where the other team is.  I shout to Jordan "Where are they?  How close am I?"



This is Jordan's response:



"5 minutes........maybe 4...........or two............or......... I don't know."



Thanks Pal



(2) I am pretty sure we had the only black van in the entire Ragnar.



Like every mountain, the road bends and turns and after I just get the intel from Jordan, I see a blinking red light.



Not only do we have to wear a head lamp and high visibility vest, we also have to sport a rear blinking red light, so when I see this, it can only mean one thing.



It's hunting season.



Seeing the red, I become a bull.  All I can concentrate is on the red.  I stare at it.  It is my most prize possesion.  I pick up my pace even more.  This is it. 



We fucking did it.



Down 16 minutes, Kaz and I made up the time in 20.5 miles.  Never did I think I would be able to catch them, especially with 3+ miles still to go. 



Never have I felt so good on a run.  Even as I am typing this to you now, I do not remember one moment where I was in pain while traversing up the hill.  My adrenaline and competitive nature took my performance to a whole new level.  I felt fresh. I could've ran forever.  We pulled in the team that had a monstrous head start and now we can start catching other teams. We are back in the game and it felt so good. 



After I made the pass, I put another 4 minutes on the team since the runner was struggling to finish the hill. 


On the downhill, I was averaging sub six minutes.  Something I haven't done since high school.  I was having the run of a lifetime and I knew it.


It's a great feeling when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself.


About a half mile before the exchange, where Baron was waiting to start his 5.6 mile leg, I witnessed a thing of beauty.  It was a clear and beautiful night.  No clouds in the sky whatsoever and if you look at the leg map above, you can see how the roadway takes you into the mountain as you make your way uphill and away from the water but when you start the downhill, it takes you towards Lake George.  At that brief moment where there wasn't any trees in the way, I could see the lake.  The moon and stars reflected gorgeously off the calm lake and there it was.  The constellation Orion was clear as day.  I have never seen a constellation so bright and clear before.  It was incredibly picturesque sitting over the lake in perfect plain view.  I even slowed down a little bit to enjoy the view.  It was the perfect ending to a near perfect run. 


When I slapped the baton on Baron's right wrist, I shouted "Let's Go!"


I clocked in at 1:26.  4 minutes before my goal time.  I did the six mile leg in 44 minutes averaging a 7:20 pace with the hardest hill in the course and on borrowed muscles.


In total, I did the 11.8 miles in an hour and twenty-six minutes averaging a 7:17 pace.  Much faster than I could ever imagine. 


There are runs every runner will remember fondly during their career.  A run where they feel like they can go on forever.  Every stride feels light and strong.  A place where no pain is present.  The mind is jovial and free. 


This is one of them.




Part 3 to be completed

Ragnar Adirondacks 2014

The Ragnar Relay is a race RACKSMAN...and Friends have completed over the past four years.  We have traveled up and down the Northeast seeing different sights while we run and chase down other teams.  It's become a yearly tradition and a great bonding experience.  This is the latest one we have done.  I will be breaking this off in three parts.  If you need a more detailed explanation of what this event is and all about, click here.  Or watch the below video

Without further ado... RACKSMAN...and Friends takes on Ragnar Adirondacks 2014:

Most of the group came in together to meet at the Community Court of Something Garden (terrible name for a hotel, but it was cheap and less than a mile from the start of the Ragnar) to get comfortable, hang out a little bit and get to know each other a little more.  Not that it's necessary for us to get more acquainted since we have known each other for more than a decade but the uniqueness of the Ragnar brings people together more than most realize.

See, running gathers people together who share the same trials and tribulations of training and running with a full list of responsibilities.  That same connection is magnified exponentially when partaking in the Ragnar.

We have 11 people with us this go around (10 runners, 1 driver) for Ragnar Adirondacks and we will become roommates for the next 48 hours.

We did this race last year and it is by far, the toughest course we have done, so naturally, we had to do it again.  This is actually the first one we have repeated and the 6th total for RACKSMAN...and Friends.

The team has 5 new runners this time around, which is the most newcomers we've had since we all lost our virginity to Ragnar over 4 years ago in Washington D.C.  Needless to say, I am excited to see how they like it.

Two of the new runners, Chris "Mandark" Larson and Jon "LT" Lin, are friends from my close friend's engineering fraternity.  I stayed at home and attended the local community college so I needed somewhere to party.  A lot of my high school friends attended Rutgers and a few of them entered the engineering school.  After I found out my friend was in a fraternity, I had to party with him since I thought the parties would be accurate realizations of the countless movies I have seen depicted. 

Strangely enough, they weren't too far off and I got to meet a bunch of people due to the fraternity.  LT and Mandark were just a few of the guys I got to know.  However, I mostly hung out with them when we were under the influence, which doesn't represent any of us and who we really are.  So, I was excited to get to know them through this rare experience.

When we got together, we discussed our legs in our van, it became clearly apparent that this was not going to be easy.  Frankly, it's going to be our toughest challenge yet.  I would be lying to you if to say I wasn't nervous entering the event, but that's part of the lore of Ragnar. 

It's different.

It's relaxed.

It's enthralling.

Let's Go!

(Conflicting Ideologies, yes, but if you have done one of these, you would understand.)

When we arrived at Saratoga Springs State park, something was different.  Ragnar Village didn't have the same energy it usually provides.

In the past 5 Ragnars, we have started between 9:00-10:00 am.  The race directors staggers the time so everyone arrives at the finish line (Olympic Park in Lake Placid) in a relatively similar time zone, theoretically anyway. 

This year, we are the last wave to go off at 1:00 pm.  So when we arrived to Ragnar Village, over 275 teams have already started.

The way Ragnar sets up the waves is simple.  The slower you are, the earlier you start.  The faster you are, the later you start.

Not rocket science

With our collective group, we average 8:30 minute/miles, which is respectable in it's own right, especially with 5 new teammates, but we should not be starting in the last wave.  That wave is for teams that average a 7:30 min./mile or below.  That is a huge difference when spread out over 197 miles. 

We obviously do not fit the bill.

So right then and there, we knew this was going to be tough and the odds were stacked against us.  However, it did present a wonderful opportunity to pass people but this may be too late of a start to really do some damage.

The problem with our wave time was that they usually go off in 15 minute increments.  The first group went off at 5:00 in the morning and then every quarter hour, the next group of runners go.  Well, the last group to go off before we did went on our merry way was at noon, so the hour difference brought the following two issues up:

1. The beauty of the Ragnar is socializing with the other runners because you see a lot of the same people over and over again at the exchanges.  Exchanges is where you hand off the baton (the baton is a 90's style slap bracelet...cheesy...yes...but very effective) to the next runner, so naturally, they become little parties since every van has to meet there to get their next runner started or at least cheer for the runner if they are passing through for a double leg or more. 

When you meet the other runners, you easily build on a similar trait and start to support each other.  A very rare sight in this day and age.  With the later start and a big time gap to boot, it made that very difficult. 

Connecting with the other runners is awesome.  We all work countless hours at our respective jobs and running supplies us with the little reprieve from the daily monotony.  Trading running stories with the other runners is one of the biggest draws of the event and I was afraid the newcomers were not going to experience that so that really bothered me.

2.  I love passing people............that's it.

After we check in, attend the safety briefing, and gather our gear, we approach the starting line.  Kaz is the first person to go and their couldn't be a better individual to do so.  Kaz hits every leg he does out of the park and feasts on any prey along way.  He is a straight up beast.

                                                          
                                                       RACKSMAN...and Friends

The race starts and Kaz kills his first leg and ended up passing 8 people. 

This has to be noted though, the other vans are really talented.  It is immediately present this was going to be an arduous task.  Two of the runners ran a sub 6:30 mile, which is just insane. 

Challenge set and accepted.

Kaz slaps the bracelet on my wrist and I start my leg.  I immediately feel the 90 degree heat, which no one expected this weekend in upstate New York...in the fall... and in the mountains.  In a short amount of time, I become nauseous and never felt really comfortable.  It was miserable.  This was not a good start since I had over 20 miles still ahead of my 10k run.  And to add more pain, I was passed, easily may I add, halfway through the leg, so my kill total is a whopping -1 by the end of my first leg.

Lovely

Then, I pass the baton off to the surprise of the Ragnar.

Christopher J. Baron has been training for a half marathon but I did not expect the pace he was thrashing the course with.  He volunteered to start off the double legs by attacking the 9.2 mile layout.  To say he took it on with vigor and exuberance would be disrespecting the man. 

After watching him move through the streets of Saratoga Springs with swift joy, I feel embarrassed to admit I terribly underestimated his running acumen.  Baron cruised through the 9.2 miles at a blistering 7:27 pace.

Next was Jason, who was a week removed from destoying his personal record in the Half Ironman distance by over 18 minutes, setting a best time in each respective discipline to running our second double leg of 8.4 miles.  I was afraid to ask him initially because I know how long it takes to truly recover from an Ironman 70.3 and didn't want to pressure him.  He put that unease to rest quickly with a simple nod and then, he was on his way.

Jason cruised at a 7:20 pace.

He's an animal.

Jay handed the baton over to a Ragnar veteran, Brendan "Nanners" Cyrus.  Nanners comes to these events on minimal training and without a care in the world.  I envy his ability to do so.  He attacks every leg the same way: I am going to get it done my way and enjoy myself. 

He gave me a little shit for giving him a 9.4 mile leg, which I believe is a personal long for Nanners in the Ragnar, but we both knew he could handle it and he did not disappoint.

While we were enjoying ourselves in downtown Lake George, eating Pizza & Falafel (Holy Shit that was a good falafel...yes, I had to capitalize Shit as well as Holy...it was that good), playing some arcade hoops, and getting owned by Deal or No Deal (Yeah, Fuck You Howie Mandel), Van 2 was killing their legs.

                                                      I even went wine tasting....Yes!

John Andrae, who is an accomplished marathoner and triathlete, destroyed his run.  No surprise.

Kendall Green, LT, Katie Ackerman, and Mandark attacked their respective trots and held up really well for their first Ragnar.  It's an interesting ploy on one's mind when you are running while knowing you have to run at least two more times in the next 16 hours with minimal sleep in the back of your mind (Yeah, I know that is a run on sentence but I thought it was fitting due to the topic of the post).  Yet, all of the newcomers handled it with a calm zeal.

When we came back from our tomfoolery, something was odd at the exchange.  It was completely empty.  We were the only van left.  Besides the cars from the Ragnar and Volunteer staff, we were the only competitors left in the massive parking lot at Million Dollar Beach (not a misprint...that's the name of the beach).  The 1:00 start was literally killing us and altering our experience. 

The second to last van just left when Van 2 arrived giving themselves a 16 minute cushion on us. 

The odds were stacked against us. 

This was going to be tough.

Mind you, it's 10:30 pm, pitch black and we have our toughest set of legs right in front of us.  We are going to be running by ourselves in the middle of the night with zero to little van support.  Three of the legs we were going to have zero cell phone service.

We have some work to do.

Little did I know, this would be a night I will never forget...

Stay tune and thanks for reading.