A “Crypto”ic Kind of Night

Last night I did something absurd. Let me start by saying I’m an accountant to the “T.” My two brothers are accountants as well but we like to throw down on the weekends. The only thing we don’t throw down or around is money $$$. My father has always been an impulsive spender and that experience left my brothers and I burned during our childhood. When I was 22, I lost $2K via an inside scoop from my father. It was some diabetes drug that was a “sure thing” to earn FDA approval.

Fast forward, I save almost 40% of my money after taxes. I have vowed never to change my lifestyle no matter my job. My wife and I drive old used cars with AWESOME gas mileage. I threw up all over the passenger seat once and I won’t even replace the car seat cloth (I sterilized it, I’m civilized). Running is my sport not just out of love but I’m also proud of how cheap it is.

Heard about the Game Stop craze? Everyone probably has by now. Well, I had been reading about it all night on Thursday thinking these guys are idiots. It’s definitely a good shorting opportunity at this point. The value of the future income is so far below the stock price, astronomically. Anyway, I saw someone post about Dogecoin, a cryptocurrency. I said well let me try to put $50 in and maybe catch the rollercoaster on its way up. Exciting, I had gained 15% in a matter of a few minutes.

Dogecoin Price Surges By +140% Overnight Thanks To Reddit - Boss Hunting

Guess what happened next? Well, why not $500. I spent the next two hours waiting till it went back up to my buying price so I could sell!!! It is now 30% lower than what I bought it at. I have invested in stocks before but they were reliable companies. At this point, I will only touch a total market index fund. This crypto could be $0 tomorrow and you’d never know. Sure, maybe I overreacted because I’m me.

Moral of the story is, if you like risk, run an ultra-marathon! COVID-19 stock market binges should not be your adrenaline rush. I learned my lesson. . .

6 months on a Hamsterwheel

Yes, the event is named so, and my return from injury felt like a continuous slog. Got second place in a July 50k, but I burned out in the last 5 miles.

You can gauge the success of your race based on how you finish. Burnout means you misjudged your race strategy, are mentally unfit or need more distance training.

During the Hamsterwheel 12 Hour, I was just in the zone. I had stomach issues, which lead to me not eating in the middle of the race, had calf cramps and got really sick towards the end. Regardless, I wouldn’t be denied. Not this time.

The hardest moment was finding out before my 19th 4-mile loop that I could do 1 last loop if I started before 12 hours ran out. When my wife told me, I was flabbergasted and incredulous with frustration. I kept telling myself 1 more, starting with the 1st lap. At this point, I was satisfied (I promise) with my performance.

As I was running my 19th loop, I grudgingly made the decision to walk the 20th with my wife. Took me 25 minutes (:

Ultra running is all mental I’d say, once you get past a 50k distance or a 6 hour timed loop race. My opinion.

Why do I run? (post-race thoughts)

I quit the TARC Frozen Yeti 30 Hour after almost 10 hours and 50+ miles, far in the lead. Yes, wow, I did.

There was someone and somewhere else I wanted to be. All this time spent running, and I’d become completely obsessed and fallen behind as a husband, friend and family member. The day after was February 3rd, Super Bowl Sunday, and I was resigned to sleep through a day when my wife really needed me after a few horrible weeks and our annual family Super Bowl party. Running that long gives you way too much time to think.

In 2018, I logged 2,700 miles and 377 hours of running time. I started running in October 2016. How quickly I fell in love? Running is one of the best things that happened to me.

I love to run because it helps me process my emotions. There are a lot of things to be excited or frustrated about, but we don’t all have a way to express them. The rustling of leaves, sun shining through the trees, birds chirping, the stillness of the woods, these are all part of the great experience. Running brings me back to simpler times. I feel like a kid again, playing in the woods, searching for frogs and building forts out of fallen branches.

Some context. My wife and I lost something special in early 2015. It derailed our lives. We were both preparing for some large life changes, and I had practically researched and read everything about being a father and planned every financial scenario to the T. When you least expect something, it hurts the most, and we got a whopper.

I did everything I could to escape feeling something, but there was nothing I could do. I cried at work, drove around at night and drank my worries away, only to find them back again and ten times worse the next day. They say running is an escape, but I disagree. You face your pain head on. It’s not like watching tv, being with friends or reading a book. You have your thoughts, all the time in the world and sometimes it can be overwhelming.

As a result of the past two years, I have never been happier. Today was not the day I gave up. Actually, it’s the day I remembered why I started running in the first place and remembered that being there for my best friend and wife means more to me than anything else. Running is my therapy, but the competitive aspect is secondary to the impact I can make on others because of its place in my life.

At 45 miles, I remembered the bigger picture and thought about what the race meant in the larger picture and it’s importance against my wife’s suffering over the past few weeks. This combined with pent-up guilt from being late and missing family events over the past few weeks, and I broke out into tears on the trail. I had been training the whole time when I should have been there.

At 50 miles, my wife had coincidentally just arrived at the lodge to cheer me on. She was ready to weather the storm, but I told her what I felt and that I wanted tomorrow to be a day spent together, and I was quitting the race. There was no better way to end, and I’m better for it.

On to the next big race.

4 Takeaways from Ultra Race Prep

My first big ultra, the 30hr Frozen Yeti, begins on Ground Hog Day at 8am. So far, I’ve done a 6hr TARCkey Trot (11/17/19) and 40M Winter Fells Winter Trail Ultra (12/1/19). Before those two races, I’ve run 5 marathon road races but nothing like this.

If all goes, well, here are my takeaways.

Put in the miles
Sleep deprivation
Run the course if possible
Train on more technical terrain than your race

The race is in the Hale Reservation in Westwood, MA. There is a required gear list that we need to carry at all times, and an additional gear list if forecast -20°F wind chill or below.

1. YOU DON’T NEED TO RUN THIS MUCH, BUT, leading up to the event, I got up to a max week of 100 miles like my marathon training. I recommend 60 max as a base if you’re running to be competitive. Running trails in training are key for a trail race. Common sense. I visited Hale twice and really loved the park. I also run in Walden State Park on Sundays and my beautiful hometown Fells anytime I can.

2. Two weeks ago, I was up 30 hours straight and did 4 runs to make sure I could handle the sleep deprivation. I read that practicing sleep deprivation was really helpful from Jason Robillard, author of “Never Wipe Your Ass with a Squirrel.” It was so tough, probably harder because I wasn’t always running. Ran about 25 miles total in the 4 runs. Watching tv was tough, and I almost closed my eyes a few times. When the 30 hours was over at 2pm next day, I fell asleep on my mother-in-law’s couch and pretty much slept until work the next morning.

3. It’s good to run the course so you’re ready for the terrain and know what type of wear your body will go through and any gear changes that may be necessary. For this race, I realized that I could wear trail flats. The course is not very technical, and it’s nice to have lighter shoes when tackling hills. Also, every park has a different trail width. Hale has thinner trails than my Fells, but they’re also more pronounced. The woods are thicker so any clearing usually means a trail, whereas in my Fells, the trails are nice and worn but can be deceiving. When you’re in the midst of a race and super tired, it’s nice to have a feel for knowing where to go if there isn’t another race marker nearby.

4. Another key to my running over the years, is that whatever the course, I make sure that I’m running now and then with much higher elevation and course difficulty. Usually, I run about 3000-4000 feet elevation per week, but recently, I’ve had some weeks over 8,000. The Skyline trail is considered technical and has twice the elevation per mile as Hale so I’ve run it a few times since my 40M (5 loops of Skyline). It’s important to be ready for what you’re facing and be able to say to yourself, hell, this could be worse, and I’ve done it before.

I’m both excited and nervous. My goal is to get over 100 miles and run all 30 hours, hopefully, both. Most important, I just want to know I never gave up. Hey, if some superstar shows up, I’m okay losing. First place at the 40M beat me by over 1.5 hours.

Minimalism and Holey Shoes

I’m up to 800 miles on a pair of race flats that I tore a hole in a couple hundred miles ago. How did I get here? When I started running two years ago, I did all the safe things that people on message boards and running websites say: 300-500 miles per pair, lots of cushion to avoid pain and all the unscientific remedies that really act as placebos for healing.

I gave up on running at all in 2013. Had to quit a race and ask for an escort back to the finish. Embarassing! My feet had been killing me for some months, probably plantar fasciitis and compensating for it had begun to hurt my knees bad.

In 2016, I picked up a pair of Hokas and gave running another shot. Flat, neutral shoes were definitely the right move, and my feet felt a whole lot better. Still, it took me another year to realize how much better my feet could feel. For my second marathon, I bought a pair of Adidas Adizero Boost 2.0. I wanted lighter shoes to race in, and they felt great. Did some track workouts in them to prepare for the race and some short runs. No pain at all.

After the race, I went back to the Hokas and realized my normal was being in some pain. It wasn’t there with the flats. Well, I fought against training in flats for a few weeks. Now, I’ve been running in them ever since. I also have a blue pair that have over 800 miles with only some small holes.

What I’ve discovered is that there is a strong middle ground between completely minimalist shoes and padded soles. I just need something on my feet, a few millimeters of fabric to keep me off the road, and the less padding, the stronger my feet become. All my friends with more padding have feet problems, and then when the pain increases, they add more padding and the cycle goes on and on.

Being able to run naturally starts with technique. If you can’t get out to a track and run a few miles barefoot, you are doing something wrong. Humans did not always have shoes with padding. Even shoes can be avoided by some runners, but I’m not there yet. I’m worried about the glass, rocks and need the traction for the New England ice I come across now and then.