Thanks

What with our eminent departure for Europe, my thoughts turn to all those that have helped make our Transalpine adventure possible.  I know Patrick feels the same and wrote a similar entry the other day. 

I've got to send out a  few "shout outs" of my own though:

My wife Gina doesn't give me the rah rah cheerleading kind of support that some spouses may.  She  doesn't always understand my motives and laughs about how I look in my compression tights.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  What Gina does understand though, is that this was one of those things that was important enough for me that she was 100% behind making it happen.

Gina grinded through the last semester of nursing school and started a new career  and was a loving mother to our two boys while I've been spending way too much time heading out the door in my compression tights. I look forward to regaining a balance in life.  I know Gina really looks forward to that.   Maybe next year Patrick and I can support Gina and Heidi in a grand adventure.  Maybe the TAR?!

A shout out to my sons Eli and Rowan.  "Are you going running again, Dad?" was a popular question I don't plan to hear for a while once I'm back.  The boys have also inflated my ego in ways only your own children can, asking questions like "Are you really running across four countries?"

A shout out to my Dad.  He called me about a year ago and said, "You really need to do this, it's a once in a lifetime experience.  I'll write you a check to help out with the expenses.  Just consider it your birthday and Christmas present for the next few years."

Thank you Dad. 

And thanks Dad and Sarah (Dad's wife) for joining Team Chugach and making the trip over with us.  Along with Patrick's wife Heidi and girls Grace and Rose, we have a great support  crew!

A shout out to the local running community.  There is no tighter-knit group of runners anywhere on the planet.  We compete hard against each other and cheer even harder for each other.  Thanks especially to Daniel, Jerry, Najeeby, Brent and the rest of the folks at Skinny Raven who really got behind us in this adventure.

A shout out to Louis Mass, owner of Elite Sports Performance.  Great guy, great program.  I wouldn't have been able to work my injured knee into shape without all the blood, sweat and tears he (and Chad and Billy) extracted.  And thanks to Dr. John Lapkass and John Polonowski for the skilled operation and maintenance. 

A shout out to Salomon USA for providing us with great gear.  We're grateful for the support and look forward to promoting the brand.

A shout out to all the friends, family and coworkers who have taken the time to wish us well.

Look forward to sharing the adventure!

Thanks.

Support

The starting line is rapidly approaching. I recently endured a week where I thought I was burned out, disinterested in training, and wondering if this isn't too much. Too much training. Too much focus. Too much time away from the family. The real answer is that 'yes', it probably is too much. Running is an addiction and once you're hooked it can be easy to overdose. Fortunately, I think I was just grouchy at the time because now we're in sort of a taper mode and the focus is more on planning, packing, travelling. I've been back on the TAR website and have been getting incredibly fired up. It's going to be sick. Take a look at this video and tell me I'm wrong.

Something I've been thinking about a ton lately is that participating in an event like this is not possible without significant contributions from others.

Most importantly I rely on my family. I would not have chosen to participate in the TAR if Heidi, Grace and Rose were not going to join us. I would not have been able to train for it if Heidi had not agreed to sacrifice a huge chunk of her personal time this year to allow me to get into the mountains for numerous long days. While I expected that the training would require Heidi to buy in, I definitely underestimated how much of a commitment she'd have to make. And we haven't even left yet. I hope a time will come when I can, at least partially, pay down some of my debt I owe to Heidi and the kids. In the meantime all can do is share my gratitude.

I know Harlow feels the same way about Gina, and I do to. But don't want either of them to get the wrong idea if I start singing Gina's praises to the world over the internet. That could put a damper on our team dynamic.

I will, however, express appreciation to Pete and Sarah. For those who aren't aware, Pete, Sarah, and Heidi, Grace and Rose will all be following the race in RVs and joining us in the stage towns. I think that the trip they're going on would be sweet on its own merits, so I hope that they enjoy it. But we will also be relying on them tremendously along the way. Harlow and I will definitely need the help and we're grateful to them for filling that role.

And, of course, Salomon USA and Skinny Raven have been hooking us up with gear, advice, and moral support in preparation for the event. Harlow and I have always been happy to push their products. And now we really owe them. Both companies have helped us out in big way.

A couple of parting shots from my last week of training in Anchorage. For those who like to hate on Anchorage, and you are many. This city has some of the best and most accessible terrain I've ever run on. I didn't want to move to Anchorage either, but it's by far the best community for outdoor recreation I've lived in. Here's some of it:

Looking SE from Rendezvous Peak.

Back towards town from Wolverine

The Team Dynamic

The Transalpine Run will be different than anything Patrick or I have ever done for many reasons.  One of those is the team dynamic.

The TAR requires that you have a teammate.  But this race is not a relay like the Klondike or any of the other classic events where one person runs at a time and once they're done with their leg, they hop in the RV and tap the keg. 

In the TAR, both runners run every step. Together.  Race rules require teammates to stay within 15 seconds of each other.

High functioning teams in any aspect of life are dynamic and can pool the various strengths of the individuals.  But this is bound to be different.  As runners, Patrick and I each have areas where we're stronger than the other.  There are going to be times where one of us is holding the other up.  For instance, Patrick has great road speed and could comfortably clip off some miles at a pace that would wear me out.

Brent Knight and Brandon Newbould competed together in last year's TAR.  Brandon shared an emotional story about hitting the wall several stages into the race.  Brent was pulling away on a  long climb and realized Brandon was lagging.  Brent offered his pole to Brandon and towed him over the top of the climb.  On the following descent it was Brent who was lagging from his towing effort.  Brandon then had to pick up his buddy emotionally and set a pace the rest of the way in that Brent could follow step for step. 

"He was there for me and I was there for him," Brent said.  "We didn't want to let each other down."

You get a sense of how much this event is a team-thing by watching this video trailer from last year's race (look for Brandon and Brent at 3:15):

As for Team Chugach, Patrick and I have a lot in common beyond some of the subtle differences in strengths. 

Foremost, we both love to get out in the mountains and  have an adventure.  Both of us are psyched at any chance to  check out new places.   The  exhilaration of travelling through the heart of the Alps is going to make it hard to get frustrated about any of the challenges we face.

Secondly, we've got reasons for doing this.  Both of us love to compete and test our limits.  But I can say with certainty that neither of us will put the race ahead of our friendship.  If one person is struggling, the other is going to be focused on getting them through - not our time or standing.

Thirdly, we both have a similar overall fitness.  Over the course of a long outing in the mountains we usually end up expending about the same effort.  We should be able to set a a good conservative multi-day tempo by pacing off the slower person at all times.

The TAR really is about the journey for Team Chugach.  We're stoked for the experience.  And because of the unique team format, it's going to make for some memorable shared experiences. 

Pain

"You bring me pain,

But you leave me pleasure."

- Rob Halford, Judas Priest

I doubt Rob  was singing about mountain running - or any kind of running.  But runners will find plenty of meaning in this classic Judas Priest tune.   For once, the worlds of British heavy metal and running collide.  But more on pleasure later.  First the pain.

Living with pain, if not loving pain, has helped me achieve racing goals beyond any of my initial dreams.  Early on, I was a wuss.  When pain came to visit I'd pretend I wasn't home.  Over time,I learned to answer the door.  Nowadays, pain is like the neighbor who just walks right in without knocking - ready or not.  Kramer.

Patrick and I are well aware that pain will be coming to visit during  the Transalpine Run - we're just not sure what it's going to look like.  Our friends Brent Knight and Brandon Newbould ran the TAR last year and Brent described the suffering like nothing he's ever felt. 

More on the TAR later, first some perspective. 

Some local runners shared their own insights with me on pain and racing at some more traditional distances:

Doug Herron is arguably the most talented runner ever from Alaska.  He ran a 1:49 800m in high school in 1985 (still at top-ten American HS time) and had a stellar collegiate career. 

"Running unconscious"

Doug during his record-breaking 800m

"You have to find the will to push through to the other side and get into that zone,"  Doug said of running fast on the track.  "You almost have to run unconscious"  Doug swears that the ability to tolerate the suffering, not talent, is the key ingredient to success.  And managing the pain has everything to do with having a clear goal.  "It's all about desire," he said.  "A person either has it or doesn't. The only way I could run that hard is because I had a very clear goal in front of me.  There is no way I could handle the pain without that goal."

Brent  is known as a ferocious climber who can push his threshold needle into the red and beyond. 

"You can push yourself in Mount Marathon until your eyeballs feel the swell of lactic acid burning through them," said Brent.  "It's 45 minutes of tough physical pain.  The difference for racers is in who has the ability to mentally tolerate the pain and hold oneself together the longest."

Mount Marathon record holder and 8-time champion Bill Spencer once said about the race, you have to "roll the eyes back in your head and go for it".
  

For Brent, his combination of talent and tolerance got him in trouble a couple years ago on a scorching hot day at  Mount Marathon.  He had crushed the field, putting three minutes on a  competitive pack by the time he'd climbed the 3200-foot mountain and descended back to the road a half mile from the finish.  He doesn't remember much about what happened next.  With the finish line a block away he stumbled, then he crawled, then he rolled.  Then he was carried off on a stretcher and received seven liters of fluid by IV at the hospital.  

Brent, Mount Marathon 09 

The Matanuska Peak Challenge -  a 15 mile race with 9,000 feet of climbing  -  is a different kind of beast than Mount Marathon with an altogether different kind of hurt.   Darin Markwardt is a contender in both races every year. He's also about the toughest person I've ever met.  I can't remember a race where he hasn't ended  collapsed in a heap at the finish line, every ounce of his 125 pound frame spent.    "Mount Marathon is like being stabbed for 50 minutes," Darin said, "while Mat Peak seems like a weeklong torture fest."  After his first attempt at Mat Peak, Darin lied an inch past the finish line vomitting for an hour before being taken to the ER.  He says he easily gets queasy and vomits during races after that experience.  But he keeps coming back for more each year.

Former Mat Peak women's record holder Nora Tobin said having a baby was nothing compared to the suffering she experienced during the race.

I've had my own close and personal meeting with pain on Mat Peak.  In 2001 under record-breaking temperatures, I melted down.  I had made it to a plateau half way up the last climb where my father was stationed with Gatorade.  I was severely dehydrated and drank about a liter but couldn't shake a deep-down despair.   It took me a couple minutes to even will myself to get moving again. The pain wasn't intense but it was complete.  I had a primal urge to curl up and weep like a baby as I shuffled over the last few miles.  I have no recollection of crawling into a ditch at the finish line and lying in some muck, but there was a picture in the newspaper to prove it.

Mat Peak  meltdown

So, what to expect with the TAR?   Rolling the eyes back and going for it?  Searing-lung sprints?  Mat Peak-like meltdowns?  Probably not.  Hopefully not.

"The pain in this race became more mental," said Brent.  "The body hurt more each day and convincing the body became the struggle. Mount Marathon effects were felt for a few days after. TAR effects lasted a few months."

Hmmm.... sounds great!  Can't wait!   What about the "pleasure" Rob Halford sang about?

There are the endorphins.  Endorphins are a pure and highly addictive drug.  And because they must be earned, there is no guilt attached to consumption. 

But the lasting rewards are bound to be more complex, especially in a race like the TAR.

"Each day I finished the stage, I felt like I did something and achieved some level (physically and mentally) I never thought I  could," Brent said of his TAR experience. "This to me was not a feeling that could be replicated in any other race.  Having one of my best friends there to go step for step with me was how I dealt with the pain. He was there for me and I was there for him. We didn't want to let each other down."

No telling what stories of pain and pleasure lie in wait for Team Chugach. 

Stay tuned!

Home again

I came back from work on Wednesday. Thursday and Friday have been the most beautiful days of the summer. Thursday Matias and I went up the Ramp. We went down to Ship Lake pass then out to Powerline. It was awesome. Very mellow effort.

The reason for doing the Ramp was so that we could check out a route from Bird Ridge that would finish on the hillside somewhere. Heidi and I were going to camp with Gina, kids and dogs, then I could hook up with Matias down in Bird and run back to the hillside. We had a great night at Bird Point. Highly recommended for family friendly camping - if the weather cooperates.

Pictures of Matias on the Ramp and me running down towards the pass with Ship Lake to my left.















We ended up bailing on the Bird Ridge route across Indian Valley, but we did have incredible weather and made it up to the overlook. All was great except I struggled right from the beginning. It was one of those days where you can't really put your finnger on exactly why you don't have it, but I didn't.

Photos of Matias at the Overlook, with the previous day's hike in the background (Temptation to the far right) and then running back towards the highway on a sweet trail that follows the ridge most of the way to the Overlook. My trusty running partner Joey waiting patiently for me to finish the photo shoot.





















These last couple days were the types of runs that make me realize that, while I'm training for a race, the training in and of itself is worth every minute. Over the course of the last year I've spent about half my time exploring new territory, new trails, longer runs, new peaks. It's been awesome.

The Knee

Most of my casual encounters over the past several months have gone something like this:

"Hey Harlow, how's it going?"

"Doing well."

"How's The Knee?"

"Doing well."

Since my right knee popped while playing basketball last December, it's gone third-person.  

A healthy body is a beautiful thing.   When all the pieces are finely tuned and working in symphony, even the difficult and challenging stuff can come to feel ordinary.  The mind is only subconsciously aware of what's going on.

An injury shatters that natural rhythm. Suddenly, instead of the body functioning as the sum of all its parts, the injured piece becomes its own entity.   You become aware of of it while doing even the most mundane tasks.  And it goes third-person.  In my case,  "The Knee".

Post Op (black dots are holes drilled through patella)

Patrick and I decided we were "all in" for the Transalpine last fall.  When The Knee popped I figured it would recover with a couple weeks rest.  Nope.  By the time I discovered I had had torn patella cartilage and had surgery in February, my right quad had withered from two months of atrophy. 

We needed to decide whether or not to make a financial commitment to doing the Transalpine.  "I really want to do this," I told Patrick, "But I don't want to screw you over by not being healthy enough to race by September."   I was also concerned about my father and his wife paying for tickets to travel over and be our support crew.  I opened the door for him to sign on with someone else.  There was still time and plenty of interested candidates.  This is when Patrick reminded me that we were "all in" and gave me the vote of confidence. 

Since then me and The Knee have been hard at it. 

I pushed too hard too early and The Knee rebelled.  Every time I had a setback, I was out of the running shoes and back to the bike trainer and StairMaster. By May, I was finally logging some mileage. But they were slow flat miles.  And not very many of them. My right quad still looked pathetic.  And our date with the Transalpine was approaching way too fast.

I received great support.   Louis Mass, who owns Elite Sports Performance gym, is a hockey coach  who has seen his share of knee injuries.  He knew just how to push me and The Knee to edge but not over.  John Polonowski at United Physical Therapy prescribed all kinds of great strength-building remedies.  And my doc, John Lapkass had the  skilled hands and the thoughtfulness to talk me through the details of the injury.  He also instilled in me the belief that I could get this done and get back in in the game.  I asked him about my odds of being race-ready by September and described how epic and demanding the Transalpine was going to be.  "I think you can," he said. "Just make sure you bring a lot of Ibuprofen."  It was later, after the operation, that I found out Dr. Lapkass is also known as the Jedi of Pain for his ability to overcome an array of brutal injuries while competing in the  grueling Alaska Wilderness Classic every year.  

And I owe much to Patrick.  It would have been safe to "break up the band" and go with a healthy replacement.  I would have respected that decision.  Patrick never entertained the notion.

Slowly and surely the training hours ramped up.   But there have been doubts. In July as I watched Mount Marathon (the grandfather of Alaskan mountain running) I cringed to watch the guys running down the side of the mountain and knew I wasn't up for that kind of beating yet. I had a long way to go to be ready for the TAR, where there is about 50,000 feet of descent over 8 days.

But The Knee has been up to the challenge.  I'm not so sure there is a silver lining to being injured.  But the healing experience is rewarding.  What I discovered is that if I gave The Knee just a little respect and time to rest, it was up for a little more each week.  I've also learned that my resolve sharpens with an injury.  I've heard stories of athletes bouncing back from an injury to be stronger than before the injury and I understand that now. 

The quad is back and I'm running stronger every day.   Last week, Patrick and I capped off a week of more than 100 miles and some 20,000 vertical feet with the 38 mile Ressurection Pass trail. 

"How's The Knee?" Patrick asked as we did an ice bath in Ressurection Pass.

I realized, the knee really did feel good.
 
"The Knee" is about to ready to be "the knee" again.

Links

Some links approved and endorsed by the members of Team Chugach:

The Transalpine Run has a tremendous website.  Check it out at:

http://www.transalpine-run.com/alps_cross_start.htm

Our friends at  Skinny Raven.  The best damn running store in the World!  There are certain businesses that become more about community than about the product.  Skinny Raven has an excellent product, but the fact that they have become such an integral part of the Alaska community speaks to their true success.

http://www.skinnyraven.com/

We both wear Salomon gear.  Yes, we wore Salomon gear, way before they agreed to sponsor us.  If you visit either of our closets, you'll  find a row of progressively older Salomon running shoes that we can't bring ourselves to throw away because we have developed deep and meaningful relationships with each pair.  They are that good.  Check out the shoes (including the brand new kickass Fellcross) and all their outdoor gear at:

http://www.salomon.com/us/

One more link?  How about a good old fashion Chilean urban downhill  bike race on helmet-cam!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIe6hYAdw_I