Continuing my look back on the experiences and lessons learned in 35 years of competitive running, Part 2 picks up with my wife and I getting settled in Los Angeles, CA after moving there in the summer of 1977. Highlights of Part 2 include:
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discovering that I have a talent for the longer distances
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having the heady experience of leading a race for the first time
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actually winning a race
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surviving doing the Western States 100 as my first trail ultra
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repeating the error of racing too frequently with no off season
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and finding a novel way to finish a 24 hour run
1978-1980: Running on the Back Burner
My first three years in LA, I continued to run but was not training seriously and did not keep a training diary. Often my running was a daily commute to and from work. Looking to explore new challenges, I connected with the Angeles Chapter of the Sierra Club and started collecting peaks on the Hundred Peaks Section list of over 200 named summits of at least 5,000 feet in Southern California. I made 20 peaks in the fall of 1977.
1978: I hiked up and ran down 35 more peaks on the Hundred Peaks list and ran 3 marathons. My best effort was a 2:56:45 in the Santa Monica Marathon.
1979: In the winter I took the Sierra Club Basic Mountaineering Training (BMTC) program which covered rock climbing, navigation with map & compass, ice axe and snow travel skills and winter camping. I climbed seven more peaks, stopping at 62 without completing the list as I became more connected to the local running scene.
I started running with a Wednesday evening group at the Phidippides store in Marina Del Rey. (The Phidippides store later relocated to Encino in San Fernando Valley; it is still generally acknowledged as the best running store in LA.) A core of my friends who ran at the Phidippides store in the 80s moved over to the nearby Starting Line store in Venice and still run together every week. Three years ago in LA on business, I ran with them again and it was like I'd never been away. Re marathons completed in '79, I probably again ran the Santa Monica and Western Hemisphere Marathons but don't have any record of my finishes.
1980: I was a group leader in the same BMTC program that I had taken the previous year, responsible with several assistants for teaching and leading a group of about 15 students through the ten-week program. In the summer, I changed jobs and went back to school for a masters degree. My enthusiasm for running was on an upswing. That summer I had a fast 10-mile (1:03:55) which helped my Culver City Athletic Club team win first place in the 35-39 age group. I ran a 10k in 37:12 (5:59 average pace), my best time since 1976. Then, in November, I ran my best marathon in four years with a 2:54:55 at Rose Bowl Marathon in Pasadena. Encouraged by that result, I continued training with the goal of a 50-mile race in February.
1981 - Discovering Quick Success in Ultras
I served a second year as a BMTC group leader and then stepped away from the mountains as running again took all of my athletic focus. My second attempt at a 50-mile road ultra was the complete opposite of my first experience at the distance. Four years earlier I had started my first ultra only to drop out at 35 miles, bonked & demoralized with bloody blisters – a 50-mile race at Stone Mountain, GA that was won by that pioneer of American ultrarunning, Park Barner. Barner rode the bus down from Pennsylvania, won the race on Saturday and caught a bus to Maryland afterwards so he could run a marathon on Sunday.
Four years later, I had read and reread Ultra-Marathoning – The Next Challenge, the (long out-of-print) seminal text by Tom Oslerand Ed Dodd. After running the 2:54:55 marathon in November, I took that speed into the Jedediah Smith 50 Mile and extended my range by applying the run-walk strategy suggested by Osler (and now heavily promoted by Jeff Galloway). While Osler recommended sweetened tea as an energy drink, I went with a mix of defizzed Coke and E.R.G. (Electrolyte Replacement with Glucose developed by marathoner Bill Gookin). The course was one big flat and fast loop north of Sacramento, CA. Where four years previously everything went wrong, in this race everything went right and I ran even splits to finish in 6:22:22 (7:39 average pace). The race was the highly competitive Pacific Association 50 Mile Championship and my time was only good enough for 12thoverall among the 114 starters. Doug Latimer led five runners under 6 hours, winning in 5:33. Latimer went on to be the co-winner of the 1981 Western States 100.
My next ultra was in September at the Lake Tahoe 72 Mile. I wrote a first-hand account of the race that was published in the November 1981 issue of Ultrarunning magazine. You can read my account here: lake-tahoe-1981.pdf. As you can see in the illustration below, the run wasn't just long... it also had some major climbs and every mile of it was at altitude. I ran a very conservative race and was only in 36th place at the top of the second climb at 20 miles. This conservative approach paid off as I gradually moved up through the field over the remaining 52 miles to finish in 10:45:15 (8:58 average) for 5th place overall. The race winner was Jim King in a new event record of 9:27:48. King went on to win the Western States 100 in '1982, 1984 and 1985, making him the first three-peat winner of the race. One lasting impact of the Lake Tahoe race was a continuing affection for long runs around lakes and the inspiration for the Can Lake 50, which I’ve directed for the past eight years.
Map and Profile of Lake Tahoe 72 Mile Ultra
In October I ran in the Southern Pacific Association 50 Mile Championshipat Pasadena, finishing in 6:28:18 for 4th overall. As the race was only four weeks after the Lake Tahoe race, I wasn’t surprised that the time was slower than my February race although I was chagrined at being lapped on the four-mile loop course by Charlie Hoover and Jim Pellon. I later learned just how great these two top runners were. Hoover, co-owner of Phidippides Encino, went on to run 5:17:28 for 50 miles in the 1982 AMJA Ultramarathons. Pellon was the first man to win 10 consequtive silver buckles at the Western States 100 and won almost every Southern California ultra that he started.
Totals for 1981: 3 ultras (12th, 5th & 4th overall finishes) and 2 marathons run as hard workouts; 3129 miles total running. My 6:22:22 in the Jed Smith 50 Mile made me the 104th ranked runner in North America at that distance.
Ultrarunning in 1981
The majority of ultras were road races on certified courses. There were probably as many track races as trail races in the early 80’s. In 1981, trail races for the whole country were listed on one page at the conclusion of the calendar section in Ultrarunning magazine.
The 1981 North American Ultra Lists had 19 men under 8 hours for 100K and 56 men under 6 hours for 50 miles. In 2009, despite having many more total runners in the sport, the Ultra List shows 9 men under 8 hours for 100K and only 7 men under 6 hours for 50 miles. The early 80’s were the “golden age” for American road ultras. |
1982 - A Career Year
My first target race of the year was the Southern Pacific Association 100k Championship at the end of April. The 100k and 50k fields started and ran together until about 25 miles. Once the 50k runners turned off, I was surprised to find another runner and I were together at the front of the small 100k field. Being in the lead of a race was a new and heady experience for me. I quickly learned my competitor, Jim Czachor had recently won a 50-mile with a time 30 minutes faster than my best and was the 50-Mile National Champion in 1977. That didn’t stop me from taking every opportunity to open a brief lead every time he would stop at the race aid stations. We traded the lead for the next 20 miles until he finally pulled ahead to stay while we were running into a headwind. I went through the 50-mile mark at about 6:26 and fought to hold pace to the finish hoping to get under 8 hours. But it was not to be… I was sprinting at 80 meters from the line when the 7 changed to an 8 on the clock. In hindsight I probably expended too much energy trying to get the lead in the middle of the race and missed my goal by 22 seconds (time 8:00:21, a 7:44 average for 62.14 miles).
Eight weeks later I ran my first trail ultra at the Western States 100. By the time I had recovered from the fast road 100k, I had less than six weeks to get my legs ready for the trails over the Sierra from Squaw Valley to Auburn. Six weeks was not enough; six months might not have been enough to convert me from a road racer to a trail runner. It was ugly but with the support of my best friend pacing me through the final 38 miles, I managed to finish 49th overall in 22:48:35. The best thing about finishing and getting the coveted buckle for a sub-24 finish was that I wouldn’t have to do the race again.It took about a week for my quads to heal from the abuse of all the downhill running at Western States. Then it was a relief to get back to the roads. Eight weeks after Western States I ran the South Hell 50, a local 50-miler over hilly roads in the Santa Monica Mountains. Again I found myself in the lead group in the race. At about ten miles, I inadvertently opened a small gap on other leaders and got ambitious. I pushed a little harder up a long grade to open the gap and by 15 miles was out of sight. I quickly learned that it doesn’t pay to get competitive in the early miles of an ultra. Five miles later two guys motored past me on a big hill and another mile or so later another runner passed, dropping me to fourth.
With the encouragement of my handler, I regrouped and settled into running my own race at a more sustainable pace. By 47 miles I had moved back into second place as the runners ahead slowed. At about a mile from the finish I got within a hundred feet of the leader. He heard me coming and, with a long surge I couldn’t match, reopened the gap to about a minute at the finish. If I had been more patient and waited until 30 or 40 miles to go for the lead, the result might have been different.
Another eight weeks later, I again ran the Southern Pacific Association 50 Mile Championship, contested on a four-mile loop around the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. As often happens in small races, the elite runners who had finished ahead of me the previous year did not return for the 1982 race. At about 30 miles I came up on the shoulder of the race leader and with a little surge moved into the lead. I expected I would gradually pull away to a comfortable lead. However, the gap stabilized at about a minute. I would see him each lap at about the same point on a short out-and-back to the start/finish. Being far more accustomed to chasing down other runners toward the end of a race, I found it stressful to be the runner pursued. Still, I held onto the lead, winning the district championship by 54 seconds. My time was a personal record: 6:21:42 (7:38 average).
Totals for 1982: 4 ultras (2nd, 2nd & 1st overall finishes plus a buckle at Western States) and 3 marathons run as hard workouts; 3501 miles total running. My 8:00:21 100k made me the 12th fastest performer for that (infrequently run) distance in North America. My 50-mile personal record was good for a 113th ranking, a truer indication of where I ranked during the "golden age of American road ultras."
| Training for Ultras in the 80s Consistent Training Pattern. Being somewhat obsessive about my training, virtually every week had the following pattern: Mon - easy run; Tue - easy run; Wed - easy run & fast fun run; Thu - easy run; Fri - easy run; Sat - long run; Sun - long run Back-to-Back Long Runs. The key workout in my self-coached training plan was two long runs on a weekend totalling perhaps 40 miles. For example, I might run 24 miles on Saturday and then back it up with 16 miles on Sunday. The reasoning was that you needed to train your body and mind to run when tired. In the eight weeks before tapering for my 100k in 1982 I have six weeks with back-to-back long runs and one week with a 42-mile long run. Moderately High Weekly Mileage. My goal for the eight weeks before tapering for a major race was to keep my weekly mileage in the 70 to 85-mile range. My eight-week average before the 100k was 82 miles. Fast Weekly Fun Runs. Being a self-coached ultra runner, I didn't do any formal speedwork and rarely ran any of the local short races. Instead, I got my speed work every Wednesday evening at the Phidippides "fun run." The group started from the store in Marina Del Rey at about 8 minute pace so we could talk and catch up. Once we headed down the beach bikeway the pace started ratcheting up. Perhaps 10 of us would still be together at the turn around at 5 or 6 miles. After the turn, the fast guys would take off and the rest of us would do our best to hang on. In the spring of 1982, my time for a longish 10 miles "fun run" dropped from 1:09:09 to 1:08:30 to a sparkling 1:06:05 just 11 days before the 100k. Easy Days. I did manage to learn a little from my over-training days back in 1975-1977. I had a running streak of over a year going but aside from the two long runs on the weekend and the Wednesday "fun run" speed work, the rest of my runs were lunch-time runs of only five or six miles at an easy pace. Lessons Learned. The above training practices enabled me to race reasonably well for about two years before the wheels came off. Following are some of the problems I recognized in hindsight:
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1983-1987: Crossing the Long Valley
With regard to racing, I have to confess to being both overly ambitious and a slow learner. The lessons I learned from my burnout after 1976 (see Part 1 for the gruesome details) had been easily ignored with the quick success I found in ultrarunning. After two career years with too many hard races and too little recovery, the inevitable again happened: a rapid fall from the peak and a long-lived loss of enthusiasm for running, reduced training mileage, weight gain, and sub-par race results.
1983: 4 ultras (8th, 4th, 6th and a DNF in my first attempt at a 24 hour race) and 2 slow marathons; only 2363 miles running. A lot of time and energy that could have been spent training went into getting my masters thesis close to completion and a job change.
The hubris of my misadventure at the Atlanta 24 Hour is worth a brief analysis. I totally underestimated the difficulty of a 24 hour run, much less doing one in the heat and humidity of August in Georgia. I mapped out a schedule that would get me to about 137 miles: hours 1-4 average 6.25 miles per hour (mph); hours 5-12 average 6.0 mph; hours 13-16 average 5.75 mph; hours 17-21 average 5.25 mph and hours 22-24 average 5.0 mph. Worse, I thought I could win the race despite being a long way from my peak race fitness. My two 50 mile times were 7:05:48 for 4th overall in the Santa Monica Mountains 50 and 7:06:29 for 6th overall in the Southern Pacific Association 50 Mile Championship, a long way from the 6:21:42 of two years earlier.
From the 24 hour start at 8am, I foolishly tried to stay close to the early leaders. I ran too fast and walked too little, running ahead of my absurdly optimistic schedule. At four hours, I had 26 miles and was a mile ahead of schedule. In those same four hours, it had gone from a pleasantly warm 70 degrees to a hot & humid 80+ degrees. By six hours I lost that mile cushion and began falling more and more behind schedule as can be seen in graph below. At nine hours I had 50 miles but was in deep trouble. I was walking more than I was running and stopped several times in futile attempt to recover. Over the next three hours I added only another 10 miles for 60 miles at the race midpoint. Three hours later at 15 hours, I had 72.25 miles and blistered feet from walking. Over the next hour I added another 3.5 miles for 75.75 miles in 16 hours. Doing the math, I figured it wasn't worth walking another eight hours just to get, at best, a hundred miles. So I dropped out of my first 24 hour.
1984: 2 ultras (16th place and a 2nd place in a 24 hour with 123.25 miles) and 1 marathon; 2619 miles running and 1134 miles cycling, mostly commuting to work. I finally finished my masters degree.
After my failure in the Atlanta 24 Hour, I went into the No Bullshit 24 Hour with an enormous respect for the challenge of the event. I was determined to run for the entire 24 hours. To achieve this goal, I decide to try a novel pacing strategy. The conventional wisdom in running trail hundreds and 24 hour events is "relentless forward motion" with time in aid stations held to the absolute minimum. I decided to turn this notion on its head and run for 24 hours by not running for 24 hours. That is, I decided to intentionally take rest breaks every hour in order to keep being able to run for the whole 24 hours. My inspiration for this counter-intuitive approach actually went back to a book about cycle touring I read in 1955 when I was in the 5th grade... the text recommended taking a ten-minute break every hour when touring 100 to 150 miles a day.
My most optimistic distance goal for the race was 200k (124.27 miles). Consistent with a goal of running relatively even spits for the entire race, I decided that 5.5 miles per hour was more than fast enough (5.5 miles x 24 hours = 132 miles) and would allow for a moderate slow down late in the race. I started the race with the following pacing strategy: Run at a comfortable, easy pace. Walk a lap every two miles at a comfortable walking pace. Step off the track at 5.5 miles (at about 50-52 minutes elapsed) and sit down with my feet up in a folding lounge chair. Eat a snack or light meal provided by my crew. Drink and relax. At the end of the hour, go back to running.
As you can see in the green plot in the chart above, I consistently tallied 5.5 miles in each hour for the first nine hours and hit 50 miles in 9:04:35. In the tenth hour, I slowed a smidge and, to ensure a consistent 7-9 minute rest break, I started taking my break at 5.25 miles elapsed each hour. That worked for three hours and then I had to cut back to 5 miles per hour. Except for falling one laps short at 15 hours, I was able to hold that pace to 20 hours. I hit 100 miles in 18:50:47 (9:46:12 for the second 50 miles). Starting at about 90 or 95 miles, I found I would stiffen up during the short rest breaks and it would take a couple laps to loosen up. My last rest break was at 105 miles. Running continuously got me an extra quarter mile in the 21st hour and kept me at 5 mph for the 22nd hour. Then the wheels started coming off. Hour 23 was passed running the straights and walking the curves on the quarter-mile track. Hour 24 was all walking. I finished with 123.25 miles for 2nd place behind the outstanding run of 130.25 miles by David Lygre (a highly accomplished runner from Ellensburg, WA who is still active in the sport today). My more modest effort made me the 24th best performer in North America for the year.
Why the big difference between the failure in Atlanta the year before and the solid race in 1984? I believe the biggest single difference was the pacing strategy. I was, if anything, less race fit in '84... my time in the Southern Pacific Association 50 Mile Championship was slower (7:18:33). My training prior to both 24 hour races was approximately equivalent... my average mileage for the eight weeks before each 24 hour was 71 miles per week. On the other hand, the No Bullshit race was held in the coastal community of Ventura, CA and temperatures probably never got above 75 degrees.
Two medical issues from the race are worthy of mention. First, the track surface was granite dust. The thousands of laps run during the race turned the surface to a fine powder that penetrated the fabric of shoes and socks. Starting at about 16 hours into the race, I noticed increasing irritation around my ankles and heels that got worse with each passing hour. Several times my crew tried cutting away part of my shoes in hopes it would stop the irritation. In hindsight, it mystifies me why we never tried a sock and shoe change. After the race when the shoes and socks came off, we discovered the tops of both feet were red and blistered due to my allergic reaction to the dust. It was about a week before I could wear shoes again. From that race on, I always planned for a mid-race foot wash and shoe change for track and trail races.
Second, once I stopped at the end of the 24 hour, I started to black out. Fortunately my crew was there to catch me. I discovered I was OK if I kept moving or if I lied down but standing around chatting was not possible. The week after the race I got a major workup from a cardiologist who found nothing abnormal, i.e., no arrhythmia or other possible problems. The conclusion was that the cause of the near fainting was some combination of dehydration, electrolyte imbalance and blood pooling in the legs. After that episode, I made it a point to always avoid stopping completely immediately after a hard ultra, to try to walk around for least five or ten minutes after finishing.
| Tips on Applying the Counter-Intuitive Strategy for 24 Hours If you would like to try the approach I used with considerable success in the No Bullshit 24 Hour, here are some tips:
Note: The above approach is for track races and races with a short loop of a kilometer or less. For 24 hour runs on longer loops, the approach would have to be modified. For example, assuming a 2.0 mile loop and a runner able to effortlessly run/walk at 6 miles per hour: I would recommend starting with a goal of run 3 laps and rest 8-10 minutes. Eventually, the runner will slow. When the runner feels the need for more rest, I would switch to taking a rest break after every 2 laps. |
1986: 1 ultra (7th place) and 3 slow marathons; 2448 miles running. Buying a house, selling our condo and moving took lots of cycles that could have been spent running.
I was still carrying the extra pounds but my training was up (60 miles per week average for the eight weeks before tapering) leading into a return engagement with the Palm Springs 50 Mile. I was pleased to do a little better, finishing in 7:01:24.
1987: 2 trail ultras (32nd & 72nd place) and 1 slow marathon; 2424 miles running. This was my fish-out-of-water year when I tried a half-hearted switch to trail ultras with little success.The Malibu Trail 50 Mile came at the tail-end of the Southern California rainy season. Things went reasonably well until the deluge started after about 20 miles. It poured and the trail turned to mud. This roadie was really miserable in the mud. The result was a personal worst 10:24:00 for 50 miles.
The San Juan Trail 50 Milewas on a warm day in November with lots of long climbs and descents, some rocks and not a trace of mud. If you look closely at the photo, you will see I'm wearing a 1987 Nike Monitor at my waist. That gizmo used the doppler effect to estimate your running speed and distance traveled. The Monitor had no display. Instead would tell you your current pace and distance through ear buds. It sort of worked except it was sensitive to the terrain, giving different distances for running up versus down the same hill. It also had a wired heart rate monitor strap that I could never get to work. I used the Monitor for about six months before putting it on the shelf where it sits today. My race finish was in mid-pack with a 9:38:48 time.
A Hint of Even Better Races to Come
In 1988 I returned to the roads, gradually lost weight and ramped up my training in the second half of the year. In October I again raced the Southern Pacific Association 50 Mile Championship, now on a flat five-mile loop in Fountain Valley, CA. On a hot day I managed to finish 3rd overall in 6:46:10, my best result for 50 miles in six years. Continuing to ramp up my training and losing the final five pounds to get to racing weight, I ended the year with my first sub-3 marathon in eight years by running 2:58:03 in the Western Hemisphere Marathon in Culver City, CA.
Total running mileage for the year was 2455 miles, much of it in July-December.