Your Inner Dialogue; Processing Negativity

Training and racing are physically and mentally taxing. This is especially true when performed during a progressive training schedule leading to a goal event. Inner dialogue is something we all deal with and hopefully find a way to channel the negative thoughts into positive results. It’s not easy and it’s not usually pretty. I beat my brain up many times from convincing myself to keep going and sometimes just to get started in the first place. Many times it’s repetitious mind games that cycle through our heads which turn into mantras. Sometimes it takes awhile and sometimes it doesn’t always lead to success. The key is to always come back even if you take a break. Never completely give up; you will never forgive yourself.

Here are three recent examples of problems that I have dealt with and their outcomes.

 

Setting – 9am Wednesday morning:  I look out the living room window and see the neighbor’s flag waving at a 45 degree angle east to west; temperature gage says 51.3. What's that...like 30 degree windchill factor? It’s time to take the dogs for their daily walk and ball throwing of 20 minutes before I go out on my daily run. It’s also my warm-up walk. I’m bundled up with a jacket, scarf, long pants, stocking cap and gloves.  I head out the door with two leashes and two dogs.

Inner Dialogue – Brrrrrrrr…f**k…do the treadmill today…only ran 5.5 miles yesterday…got to do 8x400...not on the treadmill. Did 6x400 last week…need to make progress...10x400 next week...can't skip this week. I could go tomorrow…the wind’s only 5-10 mph and the sun’s breaking through a bit. What if it’s windier tomorrow, then I’m screwed…got to go today. I can run them downhill with a crosswind…could also run east to west, wind at my back…recover into the wind. I don’t need this shit…speed kills. The trees are moving, this sucks…got to go today…f**k!

(Repeat three times and then put on shorts and T-shirt, Garmin GPS watch, sunglasses, hat on backwards and head out the door.)

Result – Ran 3.5 mile warm-up, half of it into the wind and was chilly. Started the 400s at the top of a mile-long gradual downhill and turned around and ran up the grade on the recoveries. I need as much help on leg turnover as I can get. The extra momentum provided by the downgrade lifted my spirits so I pushed harder. I finished with a half-mile cool-down and walked into the house sweating and feeling good.

 

Setting – Leadville 100, mile 43 going up Hope Pass outbound: I left Twin Lakes, mile 39 aid station over half an hour ago. I’m almost halfway up the ascent to Hope Pass. I’ve never done this race before. I paced a buddy last year on the last 24 miles in the dark. It appears to be the easiest of the 100-mile Hardrock qualifiers. The course has a lot of runnable surface except for Hope Pass, twice. I need a qualifier to enter the Hardrock lottery. Training went well leading up to the race. We flew in two days before the race; not too much recent acclimatization to the elevation. I’ve been on what I think is a conservative plan this far into the race and still flirting with the sub 25-hour buckle.

Inner Dialogue – This sucks…(stop on switchback, bend over, grab knees, gasp, look down below and see a train of runners in various states of fatigue)…I’m never doing a 100-miler again…at least not a mountain 100…(continue plodding). What’s that sound? Funny…someone’s puking…poor bastard…my quads are blown…not even halfway. Is that thunder? Shit…the weather over Hope usually sucks…no rain though…no lightning…where’s the lightning? Man, just one close lightning strike…not enough to kill me…just end my race, concussion maybe…not my fault, can’t blame me…I tried. (Stop, bend over, gasp, gasp). Is that Hopeless aid station? That’s not topout!…f’ing liars. Wow! It’s sunny, no rain, no lightning, damn, I have to keep going…no excuses. It’s all good.

 

Result – I finished the race almost 4 hours slower than my goal. Coming up Hope Pass from the other side was worse than the outbound side. I got back to Twin Lakes, mile 61 aid station coming back at sunset over an hour slower than my pre-race plan. My quads were shot but I did a lot of walking in training and put myself in gear and walked the remaining 39 miles. Got my Hardrock qualifier.

 

Setting – Ran this morning for the fourth day in a row; heading to the gym in the late afternoon for weights and core-work: I’m working night-shift temporarily and have been on a new workout regimen. I run every morning before lunch Monday through Friday and take physical training time later at work to do a second workout. I alternate days with upper-body and leg weights. I do abdominal sets, core-work, and push-ups. I finish the workouts with 30-40 minutes on the stationary bike. Today is day 4, Thursday; I’m sitting at my desk thinking about the dinner I brought for later. It’s time to go to the gym.

 

Inner Dialogue – I’m hungry…you just ate 3 frickin’ snacks…save it for later. I don’t need this crap. One day off…who’s gonna know, gonna care…no one cares, why should you? Give it up for one day. I’m tired…you were tired yesterday…you’re always tired. One piece at a time…abs, weights, bike, done…I’m hungry. Just skip today…that will lead to two days then it’s the weekend then it’s a whole week then a month then three months then six months. You’ll be soft as hell…you’ll have to start over…it’ll take six months to get back…you’ll kill yourself doing it…you know it. Just do it.

Result – I left my desk and changed into gym clothes. I was tired. I walked to the gym and started my abdominal routine, went through the upper-body weight routine, and then finished up with 30 minutes on the stationary bike while reading a book. I’m not tired anymore. I’m not even hungry but I know my body needs some carbs and protein so I feed it. I will finish the work week on Friday with a morning trail run and a yoga session in the afternoon; that always makes me feel better. The hard work will be done except for an 18-mile long run on Saturday.  

 

Go ahead, talk to yourself, work it out, rattle the noggin' and get in gear. 

 

13 Lessons for Running Longevity

Some might say that I'm not the best person to bring up this subject since I have tended to be somewhat unorthodox regarding training and recovery methods over the years. I beg to differ. Although I have suffered my fair share of injuries and ran through many of them I am still having success after 22 years of competitive road and trail racing. Back in 1991 I found motivation to quit smoking and used running as a substitute habit. My initial thinking was if I ran well in high school then I should see if I still had any talent 6 years later. If I found something I was good at then it would probably keep me interested.

IPA For a Better Body

It is my pleasure today to reveal an old discovery of mine and share it with you. This is somewhat similar to my theory of Electromagnetic Destiny from several years ago in that my experiences in life are the main support for my argument. I have researched several clinical studies that provide scientific connections to support my clinical impressions. In absence of medical proof, I submit that drinking moderate amounts of India Pale Ale and some heavily hopped Stouts will decrease inflammation in the body, enhance the processing of lactic acid in the muscles, prevent atherosclerosis, and strengthen the liver.

Remembering a Lost Treasure

Lost Treasure in the Grand Canyon

After I moved to Tucson in July of 1994 I was a 27-year old, recently divorced single guy that liked to run. It didn't take long for me to discover the Southern Arizona Road Racers and some of the other informal workout groups in the area. One interesting and entertaining group of guys that I really enjoyed hanging out with was the mid 40-year old codgers in the form of John Norris, Randy Gimblett, and Rob Gagliardo. After a year of running with them at 0515 on Tuesday and Thursday morning track workouts and trail runs on weekends, usually at some altitude, thus the founding of the name for John's workout group - Track and Altitude, I earned their respect as a young pup. My soon to be wife Trish and I were invited into the Grand Canyon Birthday run club in 1996 and were very excited. On most weekends between June and October we would meet at John's house and carpool in his Suburban to Gardener Canyon or some other trail that climbed thousands of feet to prepare ourselves for the annual trek to the Grand Canyon on the second weekend of October.

We loved these trips. In the beginning they were somewhat of a whirlwind with leaving at 4am on Saturday, driving to the North Rim, celebrating John's birthday at the lodge and then trying to get some sleep before the 5am descent down the rim on Sunday. We usually spent from 4 and a half hours to 6 hours running across depending on which southerly route we traversed. We grabbed 25 cent showers at the campground and enjoyed a couple libations before the designated driver drove us all the way back to Tucson by Sunday late in the evening. Eventually over the years some of us would make alternate plans to go up early or stay another day.

The fourth year that I went on the GC adventure was John's 50th birthday. A couple of the guys, Geoff and Aaron and myself, brainstormed a double-crossing idea. Logistically, we determined it would be easier to drive up together to Flagstaff on Friday after work. Then Saturday morning we drove to the South Rim and ran our first crossing, arriving on the North Rim in time to meet the 'Burb' and everyone else at the cabins. Later we ate cake and drank a craft beer or three that night to reduce inflammation from the earlier excesses of the day and then awoke Sunday morning to run the second crossing. Now let me tell you the rest of the story...

John was well known for his attraction to shiny objects alongside of the road, especially the copper colored kind. When on a training run, I always stop for silver but don't slow down for copper. John would break stride in the middle of a sprint for a penny. With this in mind, I left for Flagstaff that Friday with a baggy full of loose change that I had been keeping at the house. Just before Geoff, Aaron, and I took off down the South Rim we each took a fistful of pennies, nickels, and dimes and planned to strategically plant the coins across the canyon on rock ledges and switchbacks. We did this knowing that the next day we were coming back with John and he would sweep everyone of them up while we laughed and giggled every time. The plan worked perfectly. As soon as it was light enough and we had passed Cottonwood Campground on the descent from the North Rim we eagerly approached the last coin we had placed from the day before, a quarter, just to be sure it would be spotted. John missed it but one of us quickly pointed out how funny it was to find a whole 25 cents out in the middle of the largest crack in the earth. This caught John's curiousity and from that point on he had a keen eye. It paid off; every couple of hundred meters he found a penny going around a bend or a nickel at waist level on a rock. Even though we chuckled behind him he never suspected anything but that some tourist had a bunch of change and a hole in his pocket.

By the time we reached Phantom Ranch I asked John how much he had found and he said he was up to just over a dollar; just enough to buy a candy bar. The stakes would get higher after this as we continued on and out up the Bright Angel Trail. By the day's end John had $2.65 and was immensely proud of himself. Of course being the younger punks that we were, we let the cat out of the bag and everyone had a good belly laugh all the way home.

We love you and miss you dearly John,

Chase and Trish Duarte

Why Do I Run 100-milers?

Last weekend, my wife Trish, asked me this question and then listened intently to my answer. At first I wasn't sure how to begin. I have mulled this question over in my head many times in the past so I cleared my thoughts for a moment and this is what I said.

 

The 100-miler is the toughest thing that I have ever done. The training alone keeps me focused on a problem that is difficult to solve. It is the ultimate mind-body challenge. Even though most people that observe the finisher of a 100-miler will say the person looks terrible, in reality the person is going through a strengthening process. It's like when you go to the gym and do a weight workout. The working muscles experience micro-miniature tears that when healed or recovered become stronger and are able to work harder during the next session. The 100-miler will cause a certain amount of muscle damage that when healed, makes the person that much stronger. After a couple 100-mile finishes I had only lost a pound or two throughout the race but over the next 3-4 days I lost 5-6 pounds due to muscle deterioration. Now of course a runner can overdo it by running multiple 100-mile events in a short period of time; for instance, the runner who runs four in one summer or 12 in a year. I believe those people are causing irreparable damage to themselves as well as premature aging. I am interested in anti-aging and although I may feel and look like crap for a week after a 100-mile finish, I know for the remainder of the year I am going to feel great from the renewed strength I will experience. This renewed strength is also psychological. The mental benefits from completing a 100-mile run have helped me in my daily life and work routine. I can tolerate stress from an increased work load and a fast changing mission that would have caused the normal person to panic or make irrational and flawed decisions. I have more patience and can more calmly handle household problems as well as unforeseen financial difficulties. I have learned to take my time when working on projects and also how to relax on the weekend instead of always needing to find something to do.

 

Just knowing consciously and feeling sub-consciously that I have been through the grinder, the jaws of the bear; that I came back from multiple bouts of nausea and leg cramps; that I stayed awake all night even though I was a zombie for hours until sunrise; that I lost 5 of my toe nails; that I cried and still kept going and finished, makes it easier to deal with everyday life events. You can't get this from a marathon, 50 marathons, or even a 50-mile run. Maybe the first 50-mile finish will give you that sense that you just did something that was tough and that is true. But then just think what would it be like to double that?

 

The 100-miler gets physically tougher with age just as any athletic endeavor does but mentally it stays the same and hopefully begins to get easier. If I don't do a 100-miler at least once a year I begin to lose touch of that challenge that keeps me strong. I DNF'd my 100-mile attempt last year after a four year finishing streak. I experienced problems that I started the race with and I walked away without feeling I needed to make amends for it. This year I resolved to get back on that horse and get it done even though as I write this I want to take a nap after an 11-mile run in 100 degree heat; knowing that tomorrow morning I have to run 22 miles and again on Sunday another 13 capping a 75 mile week; still 25 miles short of the goal race distance.

 

I don't want to grow old wondering if I passed up my best efforts by sitting on the sidelines and reminiscing about a past that no longer exists. Oh sure, the memories are there and the accomplishments make me what I am today but someday when my time comes to die I want there to be no question that I made the most of my life in the way that I chose to live it. That is why I want to run 100-milers.