In it to (Not) Win it

I am a Mountain Man. Though this year, being such a wet one in Europe, I became a Mountain Mud Man. Probably more accurately, a Mountain-Mud Cow-Pie Man. Definitely hard core ;)

View of Mountainman finish line on Pilatus & switchback climb up.

For the first time in Europe, this season I focused not on races, but on running the amazing assortment of mountains at easy pace as I liked. And with a camera! I ran in Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Slovakia, Slovenia, Hungary (okay, mountains are tough to find there, but it's not their fault), and Croatia.

I picked one race. The Swiss "Mountainman." 80k +/- 5000m. I harboured no delusions of winning this "short" race that also doubled as the Swiss national trail running championships (Admittedly, I thought it would be a fun twist to win, but I knew the competition should be young and deep.) But the race suited my time line, was on trails I haven't run, and organised by a company I have never raced with. As an RD of trail events, that last item made it more interesting, as I'm always looking to see how others organise events and for more tips for improving my own events.

Though I've raced a fair number of trails, this one gave me some new experiences, too. I was electrocuted twice. Not bad, considering I must have crossed over 20 fences. I was chased by a calf-biting, barking, snarling farm dog for 500 metres (that's a long time on muddy trail!) I had to take a cable car up Mt Titlis to get to the start of the event. They open it early for runners, before sun-up. It was pretty special being alone in the car, riding up and looking down at the sleeping Swiss village of Engelberg. The race ends on the top of a mountain (Pilatus), so I had to take a 45 minute ride down the world's steepest cog train (45°) after the finish. It was my first race that started with fireworks (Okay, that just startled me... I don't like loud, unexpected noises.)

Jochpass, a few km from the start. Still shiny clean!

I ran through Switzerland's largest moorlands. And being that it has barely stopped raining here this year, I got some VERY authentic moorland running in the Glaubenberg moorlands! The definition of a moor, in case you were wondering how it differed from a marsh? A moor is a "tract of open, peaty, wasteland, often overgrown with heath, common ... where (soil) drainage is poor. " Essentially, there were km's of bogs with some boardwalk sections made mostly of half metre logs plonked on the ground side by side. Sometimes completely submerged. Always wet and with various amounts of mud on them. Cows don't seem to mind moorlands. I ran through so much cow poo my shoes must be bio hazards. I was up to my knees a few times in the unique Swiss poo-mud. Naturally, the one time I dropped a pole, the handle landed in a cow pie. Another time, taking an oozing step that sucked the shoe off my heel for the 34th time, a blob of poo-mud hit my face. I could only laugh. (A stifled, closed mouth laugh, in the interests of health and safety, of course.)

My "race" was over within the first 5k. Still, I know I couldn't have caught the lead women. The pecking order was sorted very quickly, with three Swiss girls out front. I sat in fourth for the next 75k. In the last 5k + 900m climb to Pilatus, I was passed by the former Coast to Kosci record holder, 42 year old Swiss ultra runner Julia Fatton. I didn't have enough left in the legs or carb stores to take her on, but I kept the gap to three minutes over the 100 minutes it took us to climb Pilatus :) She was the only person who passed me in the last 20k. Go Julia!

Quarantined!

When I say my "race was over" early, what happened was I quickly had confirmed to me that my watering eye problem is no better since my surgery in March. The tear ducts that were enlarged are still too tiny. My eyes watered non stop in the cold, worsened by wind (as when running downhill). So I had constant blurry vision until after lunch time except for the few seconds each time I dabbed them with my "tubie" (aka buff). I lost so much time on the descents, particularly. I only fell once, though, which isn't bad given the muckfest :)

I'll be heading back for a second surgery. I need functional eyes. My eyes "cry" even at home in Perth on cold mornings. Though surgery won't happen in time for the Lost Soul Ultra in Canada next month. Anyone ever run with swimming goggles?

Things I did wrong: Too much salty food the day before, which I know causes me to guzzle and retain water. A mistake I haven't made for four years. This was the result of complacence due to racing away from home with no ability to buy my usual foods or to cook. It made me feel bloated and messed up my carb intake. Mistake 2: forgetting my little Perpetuem mix bottle to make multi-hour bottles, so I only had 2 Perpetuem Solid containers and 7 Hammer gels in my overseas fuel stash. I was vastly under-fueled for quality stuff and had to resort to aid station food. Boo. High sugary sweet gluten yuck that had me up and down in energy levels (Bananas were okay, though it started to feel like I was eating my weight in them.) Still making mistakes after all these years. Tsk tsk.

Closing in on the finish with "Nearer and Further," my trusty poles.

Things I did well: Fixomul on the toes with Sport Shield roll-on over the feet and anti-blister powder in the socks. My second race with not the tiniest toe/foot issue. A winning combo. Another winner was my little gaiters (I wasn't dumping my shoes out like others.) And Inov-8 x-talons are in their element in mud bogs and wet grass! I also "wowwed" at the scenery... Though the race was in the category of Brutal-Fun, I made sure to look up and look around lots, watching for peaks to appear between the clouds and watching farmers move their docile Swiss-bell-laden cattle. Surely off to poo some more on the trails.

Having my mum there was icing on the Swiss mud cake.

Time to go to Canada, where the poo is bears' and the bells are on the hikers.

Fast Packing the Dolomites: A Blogumentary

Preface

I left Perth at the beginning of July and over the first three weeks of the month, was fortunate to run an amazing assortment of mountains. These included:

The highest peak in Slovenia (Triglav, 2864m) and the highest peak in Hungary (Kekes, 1014m).

Descending Triglav (Slovenia)

I got to the highest point possible for unaided runners/hikers on Austria's highest mountain (Grossglockner, 3798m), reaching Oberwalder hut, 2973m.

I ran the highest peak in the Gorski Kotar range of Croatia (Risnjak, 1528m). Crotia should be known for friendly people, but not high mountains. Same for Hungary :)

In Slovakia, I ran one of the two highest peaks possible unaided - Mt Krivan, 2495m, supposedly something every Slovak should do once in their lifetime. (The highest peak in Slovakia requires a guide and is Gerlachovsky stit, 2654m).

In between, I ran several other mountains, enjoying some awesome views and the unpredictable weather that mountains bring, to help prepare me for the five day adventure that would be fast-packing the dolomiti.

The Fast Pack Story

In some ways, this little 5 day trip was two years in the making. In August 2012, I ran the 320 km 8 day TransAlpine Run as a team with my partner, Rolf. The last two days went through the Dolomites. I said, "I have to come back here and race!" Then I realised I didn't want to race - I wanted to savour the running. I wanted to take photos and enjoy the mountains in a different way from racing.

The well-used, sometimes accurate map

It was an adventure I wanted to share. I just had to wait for the right match of person(s) to think a self-sufficient, live-in-your-own-sweaty-clothes, multi-day run was a good idea! They came in the form of a Danish mate, an Italian mate, and an Aussie mate (transplanted from the UK many moons ago). Two ended up with work issues and cancelled. But happily, my partner decided it sounded like fun after all. That made us a group of three.

With a plan of 20 - 25 km/day (+2000m), Aussie mate John and I stared down a 1:20,000 topo map and a walker's book, and devised a loop. I suggested we cut the original 7 day idea down to 5, as I didn't want either of my running partners (with less years of running in their legs) to get injured. I figured if everyone felt that good after 5 days, we could easily add some day trips.

Rifugios, alpine huts Italian style, were booked in advance. They hold them until 6pm each day - after that, if they give out your room, you'll at least get a spot on the dining room floor. It's a refuge, after all :) And on Day 3, we experienced the true meaning of refuge! (Ummm, and again on Day 4!)

Snow running - yay!

Rolf snuck in with an 8 ltr UltrAspire Omega and John had field tested his 11 ltr Ultimate Direction pack. I decided I wanted the comfort of a few more things - some "emergency" fuel that I know my stomach likes, a SPOT emerg tracker/beacon, compression bandage, flint, spare Garmin.... I used the 14 ltr UltrAspire Titan. It was modified to add zips to the front pockets, as my field testing revealed stuff would fall out of the front magnet-latched pockets.

We all opted for Inov-8 shoes. My favs continue to be the x-talon 212s and they didn't let me down. As a former hiking-boot owner who was under the spell of "boots are best," I firmly believe now that boots are not best in many cases. I had excellent grip/traction on all surfaces - snow, mud, wet and dry rock, and via ferrata. Our shoes were whispered about, pointed at, photographed, and even video recorded by some!

In five days, we saw no other fast packers. Only full-pack hikers.

The very rough daily plan was to run ~10 km to lunch at a rifugio. This usually took 2 - 2.5 hrs, as there was often 1000m of gain and technical terrain involved. Lunch took 50-60 minutes and we'd try to pick carb-rich and lower fat meals that would sustain us without causing nausea when we donned our 5kg packs to start running again. We'd get started between 8.30 - 9.30 am each day (often closer to 9.30).

Typical night. Airing the wet clothes, rugged up in a doona.

In the afternoon, we had 10-15 km to get to our destination rifugio. Afternoons tended to bring about unplanned excitement. The weather was pretty average for our trip - lots of rain, snow whenever we got to 3,000 metres, and thunderstorms in the afternoons (thunderstorms are not a good thing when you're hanging onto metal cable on a via ferrata at 2,500m!) Our arrivals at rifugios tended to be between 4 - 5 pm. Then we'd spend the evening eating, showering, eating some more, washing our few items of clothes, trying to dry our few items of clothes, and eating some more.

The Drama

Every good story needs a little drama, and luckily we had so much that I don't even need to make things up! :) Here are the most dramatic of the stories.

There was "trail #15" to Para Dai Giai on Day 2 that just seemed to vanish at the summit, requiring us to navigate cross-country in a thunderstorm NW rather than SW as we had wanted, in order to get onto a "real" trail again. Bonus k's! But this was nothing compared to what we would get tomorrow!

The cross on Para Dai Giai, within a panorama

Day 3 we ran into clouds within a few km of the start, climbing from 2100m at Rif. Frara to the 2800-3100m Gruppo Del Sella mountains. The cold rain at this altitude required us to keep moving to stay warm. We departed Rif. Boe at 2871m after lunch (enjoyed in our wet clothes) into an approaching thunderstorm. Whilst everyone else sat tucked into the hut drinking grappa, we headed for Piz Boe summit (3152m). It was less than 2km and had a hut on top; we decided to make a break for it. If we got turned back, it wouldn't be far - either way. At Piz Boe (Rif. Cap na Fassa), it was snowing and visibility was down to 150 metres. We had a hot drink and a chocolate bar. The calories get the metabolism going, which is warming. And we were burning the calories, just trying to stay warm! Leaving the hut into the snow, we had about 2.5k down to our night's accommodation at Rif Forcella Pordoi. It was going to be the "short" day, to give us a little extra recovery for the legs. Ha! Mother Nature showed us for going out in a snowstorm at 3,000 metres!

Making the best of the weather - happy to arrive at the 3152m hut.

Out of the hut I tried to turn right, looking for the trail on the other side of the helicopter landing pad. Rolf noticed the #638 trail going left. I thought it must just veer down and around the landing pad. However, as we started running, I forgot all about the fact that we should make a right and also forgot - for the first time - to check my bearing with my Garmin. In a couple km, we knew something was up. My Garmin was telling me we were going NE, but Rolf suggested it was gapping due to tight valleys and poor weather. We didn't find the junction we expected. Things weren't making sense. We tried to find a sheltered place to pull out the map, where it wouldn't be instantly soaked, but Rolf has Raynaud's Syndrome and stopping in the cold is very bad news for him. We came to "The Rope Descent of Death" as I think John called it. Down about 200m of steep snow, with a climbing rope as a handhold. It was soaked with 3 degree water, which soaked the gloved hand, but we had no choice but to hold on. John spoke aloud what also didn't make sense to me - why were we descending more? Our hut was at 2,829m. We were sure we were on the wrong trail, but decided the necessary thing was to head for the closest rifugio - in front of us. Bonus hut. Here was "refuge" coming to its full and deepest meaning. We arrived at Rif Franz Kostner (2,500m) and had another hot drink. I pulled out the map and confirmed our error - we had indeed gone the opposite direction on the #638. Caused by rash thinking in extreme conditions. Not a rookie mistake, simply a stupid one.

The "entrance" to Rif. Forcella Pordoi after a big climb to the saddle

The day ended with a bit of magic though - the new route we took to Rif Forcella Pordoi took us on a 6km traverse below a beautiful ridge and then we had an amazing switchback climb to the hut that has featured in a Skyrunning race. John and I got to "secret race" a man coming up with poles (and beat him, yay!). And the arrival at the hut on the saddle (Forcella means fork or saddle) was second-to-none. A tunnel dug through the snow led to the hut entrance! To top it off, we were the only three people to stay there that night. Very special. That evening, the clouds rose, and I spotted Piz Boe with its hut in the distance - in good conditions, we could have seen between the two!

Day 4 we got to appreciate "refuge" one more time. Again, after lunch. We headed out from Rif. Vicenza (aka Langkofelhutte) for our last mountain climb - up and over Sasso Piatto on a via ferrata, and down to Rif. Sasso Piatto. The route was a dashed line on the map, with about 5 crosses in the middle, near the summit. Dashed lines are better than dotted lines. And crosses indicated via ferrata. The whole thing appeared straightforward and we'd done what had been a lot more intense looking via ferrata. This one didn't even have the dotted lines that indicate a lesser-marked trail. And it didn't have the image of a mountain climber on the map - a sign that meant climbing equipment was essential. There was no warning sign as we started the ascent - as we'd seen on a few other sections. Nothing said "You're out of your league, kids; turn back now." The ground was steep, scree-like, and wet. Going was slow. There were some snow traverses and then a "via ferrata without the ferrata" - we were climbing hand-over-hand. After 80m of that, the metal aids appeared.

Via ferrata without the ferrata

Hooray! We thought things would get better. But the going was slow - it was technical and wet and John was most definitely NOT in his comfort zone. In fact, it was in this section of trail (if I could call it that), that John respectfully demanded that I stop calling him by the nickname I'd developed (PJ, for Pommie John, as we already had an Irish John in our group and I was trying to differentiate) and that I call him John. After a couple hours of slow climbing, we were stopped by a bent ladder and a traverse across a rockface that appeared to have been taken out by a landslide. We could see red dots on the other side of the slide. There was a saddle there and we wondered if that marked the point of descent. I went across - a series of slow, careful movements to keep the scree from racing out from under me and washing me off the vertical ledge 10 metres away. I still have trouble processing how dangerous it probably was - likely to keep myself from losing the plot with the memory of it. What I saw on the other side was more cable and rungs, continuing up. We had to make the call - with more unknown, a dangerous crossing on the steep scree, inclement conditions, and new-to-ferrata John, it was the best decision for us. Back at Rif. Vicenza, we got three beds, albeit without hot shower, but there was terra firma and all the food we could buy.

My solo traverse of the landslide to get to the other saddle. 

Epilogue

Two days after the dolomites, I was feeling lost. John put it well in an email back to me after I sent him a quick message expressing this. He said, "That's because we were out there long enough that it felt like a vocation, not a vacation." So I went out on a solo 26k run through the French alps north of Mont Blanc, two maps in hand, to find myself. To remember my vocation. It worked. I built up more of the invisible calluses that come with labours of love.

My only lingering angst is over John. His name, that is. PJ might not have sounded serious enough or manly enough, but it had a spirit in it for me. John isn't even short for Jonathan in his case. It's just John. And that's not enough. He's not just John.

Credits (The Gear)

Wearing most of the gear here! Luckily not activating SPOT

Besides a couple awesome blokes, I will credit some gear for adding to the happiness factor. My essentials included UltrAspire Titan pack, Mammut gloves (more hard-wearing and thicker than the Icebreaker ones I have - better for climbing/via ferrata), Inov-8 x-talon 212s, Dirty Girl gaiters,  and Icebreaker s/s top (the BEST! I easily wore it 4 days in a row unwashed and should have just made it 5). Compressport arm warmers (invaluable in the variable weather we had - up/down is so easy for regulating temperature). Icebreaker long medium weight socks and Injinji medium weight socks - both awesome. My Perth Trail Series "tubie" (aka 'Buff'). Cash (most rifugios don't work with cards). Montane LiteSpeed H2O jacket (Rolf loves his similar Montane Minimus). Icebreaker 200 weight thermal top and 150 weight bottoms. Tabacco 1:20,000 topo - keeping in mind there may be errors! Garmin 310XT x 2. Emergency Hammer gels. Phone (charged and off - only for emergency use). Camera and spare battery, though I never needed the spare. Maglite Solitaire (mini-torch) - perfect for lighting the way to the loo at the rifugios. Ryders sunnies. Sports tape - for my lax tib-fib joint and for the lax map seams! I used half a roll on that map, I think. SPOT tracker. Lip balm.

What I Would Do Differently

To infinity and beyond....

Have two identical maps, cut into practical A4 size in advance, laid out double-sided and layered in "contact" to waterproof them. Carrying my map in a Ziploc was fine, but when I had to take it out repeatedly in the rain, it suffered badly. Plus every "re-folding" wore out the seams more.

Take less sunscreen and no bug spray.

Take one less s/s shirt - Icebreaker to run in and one for the hut is enough.

Go longer.

Conclusion

115k + 8800m. Memories enough to fill a rifugio. And 10 yet-to-be-used Tabacco maps. Hmmmm.

Research Musings: Acidic Blood, The 80:20 Rule, and Heat Acclimation Tactics

Here are three I was reading up on lately.

(1) The Alkaline Forming Diet/Alkaline vs Acidic Food Claims

Admittedly, I didn't do too much research on this one, because I did research and blog it here at the end of 2012. But it reared its head again with some YouTube and Facebook posts, so I went out to check whether there had been any changes to the science on this one.

The pH of gastric acid (which includes hydrochloric acid): 1.5 - 3.5

Nope. As I wrote in 2012, your pH is tightly regulated by your body. The pH of your urine can vary, but this has nothing to do with the pH of your body. In fact, changes in your urine are totally normal, as the body does its normal job of filtering through your lungs, kidneys, and liver, and no matter how acidic or alkaline your food is, "it is not going to get near your bloodstream in anything like its original chemical form." If you skip out on so-called acidic foods, which include meat, dairy, and grains (a pretty big part of a human diet), you could miss out on important nutrients and essential fatty acids your body needs.

(2) The 80:20 Rule

In 2010, after a couple good race results, a few very wise elite runners gave me some advice - without my even asking :) There I was, enjoying my successes and feeling pretty happy and there they were saying, "Yeah, you've done all right, but if you really want to be the best you can be, you should be doing speed work."

Speed work?!? That's for 10k runners. Maybe even marathon runners. Not an ultra runner!

I started doing that dreadful speed stuff, adjusting my training programs accordingly. And the results, of course, have proven them right.

But how much speed work and when? Well, I definitely ascribe to the "hard day/easy day" philosophy. Never two hard days in a row, as that increases injury risk due to lack of recovery. In many ways, we get stronger during our recovery time. No recovery time, no improvements - injury awaits. This means I wouldn't run two really long runs back-to-back, either, as a long run (say 5-8 hours for me), edges into a "hard" day, even though it's not a speed day. I learned this one rather the hard way, trying to follow those crazy generic online programs that have us running 3 and 4 hour back-to-back sessions, week after week. My body couldn't take that kind of load. (But guess what? Dropping back the mileage to what my body could tolerate, I could still do all those races!)

I also don't do speed work when I'm building volume. Another running philosophy with merit, I think: Don't do two things at once. Building volume and speed at the same time doesn't allow for sufficient recovery - therefore putting us at increased injury risk. That song by The Byrds comes to mind:

To everything, turn turn turn
There is a season, turn turn turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven
A time to build up, A time to break down...
A time to gain, A time to lose...

Business loves the 80:20 Rule, too. Human nature to create even numbers & rules!

Recently, a runner asked me about the 80:20 Rule - being that one should do 80% of runs at less than 75% of max HR, leaving 20% of runs as speed work (tempo/interval).

I had to admit that I hadn't really heard of this. In my head, I had jumped long ago onto programs advocating closer to a 90:10 mix. But once I started looking, I found there was quite a body of stuff out there on this "80:20" concept. But it's looking to me that this "rule" has been applied to endurance athletes as a whole. That is, they are lumping together runners, swimmers, cyclists, and cross-country skiers. Seiler (and Seiler and Tonnessen) found that most "highly trained athletes" were doing about 2 speed sessions per week. However, those athletes are also doing 10-13 sessions per week. For elite male runners, typically doing 160km/week or more at a 4 min/k average, that would equate to 10-12 or more hours per week of total running. The time spent in two speed sessions might total 1.5 hours (say an interval session one day and a tempo another day). That yields something like 1.5/10-12hrs (or more), which is 12.5 - 15%. Even if we look at it on a mileage basis, we're talking about a max of 20km of speed out of 160km or more of total running, which is 12.5%.

Indeed, the authors above noted that the few elite runners they specifically questioned were doing 85% of their runs at easy pace.

So, the 80:20 "Rule" sounds like it's being applied erroneously to runners. Humans like nice, neat packages and catchy phrases. But when I do the maths for runners and read the data on runners in these studies, I'm reading 85:15 Rule or 87.5:12.5 Rule. But those ratios don't roll off the tongue so nicely ;)

But for runners, the 80:20 Rule could cause this ratio, too!

The authors note that running "imposes severe ballistic loading stress that is not present in cycling or swimming..." and that there is a "strong inverse relationship between tolerated training volume and degree of eccentric or ballistic stress of the sport." This seems to back up the reason why runners AREN'T doing 20% speed work.

And let's remember that this 80:20 Rule, which in reality appears to be an 85:15 or 87.5:12.5 Rule, applies to WELL TRAINED endurance athletes. So, before going off to race around the track a couple times each week, consider where you're at in your own running development. Are you at the "well trained" level yet? I truly believe that if I'd hit speed work much earlier than I did, the extra stresses on my body would have likely broken me - unless I'd really dropped some volume, at least.

(3) Heat Acclimation or Acclimatisation

I didn't want to get too caught up in terminology here, but whilst some writers seem to use either term to mean the same thing, I understand acclimatisation to mean our natural adjustment to our natural surroundings, whereas "acclimation" is a forced (i.e., "un"natural) way of trying to achieve acclimatisation. Thus, going outside on a hot day and running is a natural way of "acclimatising" yourself to heat, but piling on layers of clothes and getting into a sauna is an "acclimation" technique for acclimatising. Right. Moving on.

It's perhaps the wrong time of year in Australia to be talking about heat acclimatisation, but for those in the northern hemisphere, just coming out of a long winter, or those in the south who might be travelling to race, the topic would be timely. And it just happens this is the first time I've made time to blog it :)

Running in heat stresses us, as our bodies are already dealing with expelling the extra heat produced by exercise. A muscle at rest is 33-35 degrees C. When at rest, we lose heat in 4 ways - about 60% via radiation (heat just radiates out of us), 25% by evaporation (water in sweat/breath), and 15% via convection (air flowing over our skin carries away heat). There's a nominal amount that we lose by conduction (whatever we touch - like sitting on a cold bench or standing on cold ground).

When we exercise, the energy produced for the muscles produces a by-product - heat - that needs to get released from the body. Evaporation (sweat and breath) goes into the top position now for heat loss - perhaps 55% of our heat is lost this way. Convection (the breeze blowing on us) also goes up - say 35%. Radiation drops to about 10%. When the air temperature goes over 36 degrees C (remember the temperature of our resting muscles?), our bodies GAIN heat through convection and radiation. So evaporation really becomes our only way of countering this on the extreme heat days. And keep in mind that when the weather is very humid, evaporation is weaker because the water released as sweat on the skin doesn't evaporate as readily.

Easy to feel like a baking lizard on Australian summer runs!

I read a very encouraging study just before Australian summer (that is, back in Dec 2013) by Costa and colleagues who found runners showed signs of acclimation to heat within 2 exposures of 2 hours of easy running (just 60% of VO2max) at 30 degrees C. Acclimation was measured by two key changes:

(1) Cardiovascular. You can think of that as heart-blood changes. What it meant is that blood plasma volume increased. This "hypervolaemia" results in a greater stroke volume with each pump of the heart muscle. That means heart rate goes down. Lower heart rate is a good thing when running!

(2) Thermoregulatory. Temperature regulation. Sweat sensitivity increased, sweating started earlier, and sweat rate went up. (Keep in mind this means that earlier sweat rate means a heat acclimatised runner will need more fluids, not less.)

Even better, Wendt et al (2007) reported in their literature review that you only need to exercise above 50% of max (enough to sweat, essentially), that 90-100 minutes was enough to achieve change, and that you don't have to do all your training in heat, as long as you have more time. Every day for 10 days or every third day for a month yield the same physiological changes.

So, how to use this information to our advantage?

Could it just be this easy?

First, mentally, we can know that after a couple runs in hot weather, our bodies have made the major changes necessary to adapt already. There's a mental aspect that needs extra time, but I think we can augment the mental adaptation by knowing that we have physically adapted. Costa and co noted that the runners in their study did not adapt their comfort rating in the heat (finding heat more bearable), until they were exposed to more easy running and higher temperatures (35 degrees C). The authors felt "thermal comfort" took longer to develop due to changes necessary in the metabolic system (the work of the hypothalamus to connect the nervous system to the endocrine system). The hypothalamus controls things like thirst, body temperature, and circadian rhythms.

Second, when going to race somewhere hot from somewhere cold, we needn't fret excessively about spending weeks in saunas or running in layers upon layers of parkas. A couple 2hr sessions create change. However, we need to keep in mind that these adaptations will decay. Just like adaptations made when we go to altitude. Whilst short term changes to plasma volume may be gone in 72 hours, if you have acclimated over 10 days or more, you should have at least 7 days (but likely less than 14 days) before significant decay occurs. The fitter you are, the longer your acclimatisation benefits should last.

So, whilst you can "cram" before a hot race with a couple sessions of heat running, you probably can't do it a week beforehand, as the effects will decay. Either you need to acclimate longer or you need to get time in the heat at >50% VO2max right before race day. Of course, who does a 2hr taper run two days before race day? With this in mind, you might have to consider something like acclimating and then keeping up your blood thickening by doing a couple "easy" workouts in a sauna (dry-heat acclimatisation is better retained than humid-heat). Don't dehydrate yourself, though! Researchers also found that "euhydration [normal levels of hydration] is a prerequisite for optimal heal acclimation to occur." In fact, dehydration abolished the advantages of acclimatisation.

Third, you might use heat acclimation techniques to improve performance even at a cool weather race. The adaptations made by the body, including cooler core temperature, greater blood plasma, lower heart rate, and increased sweat sensitivity and sweat rate, will positively affect your race, no matter the ambient temperature.

Bikram Choudhury, the founder of the Bikram method

What about Bikram yoga as an acclimation technique? That's the hot yoga, conducted at 35-41 degrees C, involving 26 poses over a 90 minute class. I've not done one myself, as it sounds pretty yucky to me. :) There's not much research yet, but what I found suggested it won't do the trick. One study noted that HR was 57% of max during Bikram (56% of max during regular yoga). Thus, it's not really a surprise then that Tracy & Hart's 2013 study of young, healthy individuals put on an 8 week Bikram program (3 x 90 min sessions/wk) showed that Bikram did not induce cardiovascular or metabolic changes. As we learned above, exercise intensities for heat acclimation have been at 50-60% of VO2max. This is closer to 65-70% of max HR. Your "long slow distance" running pace. Abel and colleagues (2012) also found no changes in "resting hemodynamics, pulmonary function or aerobic fitness" in their study of novice versus long-standing Bikram practitioners.

But I'm sure there are other good reasons for sweating profusely in a crowded room with strangers.

2014's Long Running Meditation #3: The Sri Chinmoy 12 Hour Race

Conditions were excellent for the Sri Chinmoy 24hr race. The problem was, I wasn't doing the 24hr race. Not anymore. After the big switcheroo, where I did my 24 in April, it was the 12 hour event I was geared up for. So why weren't the conditions so good for the 12hr event, run at the very same venue?

Well, to start, there's the small matter of it being a night race. Yup, it started at 10pm. Physically, considering circadian rhythms, we diurnal human beings are best suited to run mid/late afternoon. Starting at 10pm was a great boost for the 24hr racers on the track, as we brought fresh energy out there. But running through the night, despite the fact that I don't suffer sleep monsters at all, surely cannot result in my best performance.

Looking towards the start line with scoring team and aid station

Then, there's the matter of temperature. For the 24hr race, it was pretty good overall - no hotter than 18 degrees, with limited sun. By 10pm, temps were down to 10 degrees and continued dropping to a chilly 6 degrees. My crew was wearing all her mountaineering clothes! I didn't need to rug right up, but I still needed to wear arm warmers and gloves throughout. Fortunately, I kept moving well to avoid getting a chill. More clothes means more weight to lug around the track! The cold also meant more toilet stops as the blood retreated to my core to try to keep me alive.

Third, the crowds. I always knew that joining 34 half-spent runners on a 400 metre track was going to pose a challenge. There were 14 other 12hr runners, too. That meant that until anyone quit or had a little snooze in their tent, there could be 49 people on the track, mostly vying for lane one. The race became a bit of a video game, dodging around people and between talking people travelling side-by-side. By my rough calculations, veering out into lane 2 (sometimes lane 3) 15 times per lap could cost 5 metres. No biggie, though 5 metres x 333 laps = about 1.5km. So that kinda sucks.

Another unique challenge created by the start time was that I normally do an "alt" carb-loading program that requires a sprint the morning before the race, then fueling up on carbs, whilst limiting fats and fibre, of course. But I had 36 hours. That was a lot of eating. I'll just say that the result was too much bulk! Next time, I'd sprint at night to stick with the 24hr loading timeframe.

Food on top, mine (Perp, water). Food below, crew (including the Coke!)

Having all day of race day free presented a HUGE mental challenge. I had all day to chill. All day to hang out, not wanting to spend time on my feet in adventures. I'm not a tv person, so that left a whole lot of time for my monkey mind to play at me.

Boy, my right QL feels tight. Why are you doing this? This is stupid. It's going to be so hard. You can't do it. Should I take my beetroot juice yet? Ahhh, my neck. The pillows in hotels are terrible. My neck hurts. Where's my tennis ball? Is it too late to roll my QL? I'm thirsty. Should I drink more? But I don't want to have to pee a lot during the race. But I don't want to start dehydrated. How am I going to stay warm before the start? Did I pick the right shoes? I've never raced with my Compressport full socks before. What if I have to change socks during the race? There go the splits!

Given all this, why on earth would I actually sign up for this 12 hour race, then? Well, despite knowing that it wasn't quite exactly perfect conditions in some ways, there were so many positives that made up for it.

The Sri Chinmoy team put on an excellent event. They are a passionate, lovely, caring team of runners who cheer endlessly for everyone. They make us all feel like superstars. There was one volunteer who shouted, "Go Bernadette Go!" such that I felt it right to my bones! The vollies come right out onto the track with cups of hot soup, mashed potatoes, and such. They even take orders for hot drinks whilst you're running! Although I just stick to my Hammer Perpetuem (seriously, 6, 12, or 24 hours, with pears as well, that's my thing!), it's lovely to see the caring and attention to detail brought by the team.

Wonderful volunteer offering takeaway!

I was also looking forward to sharing the track with people running 24 hours, because it's just darn inspiring! I love the camaraderie of a track race. Though I'm a "no talker" during races, and in fact enjoy the opportunity to try to not think for hours at a time (a running meditation), I enjoy watching the spirit of the event unfold. Runners band together to encourage each other. Going past people, I'd get snippets of conversations where people were talking about their goals, their revised goals, and their challenges, and getting support from others who, in fact, were their competition! What other kind of race is like this?? Runners were heard on their phones walking, talking to partners and friends about their progress, saying goodnight to friends and family. 

"Don't you get bored at a track race?" people ask. If you're bored at one of these events, you're not paying attention.

So round and round I went, staying on target for the first four hours, running 12k/hr. Though from hour 2, I was struggling. The heart rate was fine, but I developed...dare I say...pre-menstrual cramps and low back ache. (That was like whispering, hee hee!) I then developed neuromuscular spasms down my right leg. Related or not, I'm not sure. I had to focus intently on maintaining my gait. At pace, my right leg started wanting to do the boogaloo. I worked really hard to try to stay on pace, but every time I brought it up to where it was supposed to be...Boogaloo! Leg doing its own thing! So I settled into a slower pace where I could manage to keep getting enough signals between my brain and leg at the right timing that I could run smoothly. I waged a mental battle against quitting. Just get to the marathon mark. Just get to the six hour mark. Your crew came all this way and gave up her weekend and is staying up all night for you.

Hours 4 and 5 saw 11.2k each, and then I yielded more to this "boogaloo struggle" and settled into a more workable speed that allowed for the faulty wiring. The pace dropped to 10.4k/hr. And that's essentially where I stayed from hours 7 through 12. There was no slowing. I could run that pace and keep system malfunctions at bay :)

The "A goal" for distance disappeared by hour 6. I held steady, though, and when the clock hit 11.5 hours, I decided what the B goal would be. I yelled out to my crew. "Push me! I want 133k!" Although the A goal was gone, and the Australian record to break was 131.3k, I wanted to know I had left the track having given it my best. I felt 5k in the last 30 minutes was achievable and went for it. And we did it! 

Given the cards I was dealt on the day, I have no regrets and feel I achieved the best I could. I may target another 12 hour in a year or so. But we'll see what other exciting challenges I find to compete with that idea :) 

It's been an incredible 4 months of racing for me. In this race, I managed to break the Canadian W45 6hr record  with 70.288km and the Canadian and Australian W45 100km records at 8hr 47min 54sec (all to be ratified). When the gun sounded, I set new Open Canadian and Australian 12 hour benchmarks with my 133.535km total.

Once the new records are ratified, I will hold the Open Canadian 6hr, 12hr, 24hr, and 100 Mile records and the Open Australian 12hr, 24hr, 100 Mile, and 200km records. Plus many age group records. It remains surreal what I have achieved. I don't rant on and on about my sponsors - at least I don't think I do - but I respect these products and their support and I want to extend my gratitude here for what has without a doubt helped me achieve what I couldn't have even dreamed two years ago. This is my version of a virtual handshake. Maybe even a hug where appropriate.

Hammer Nutrition - my favs include Perpetuem, Espresso, Chocolate, and Peanut Butter Gels, Endurolytes, and Recoverite.

NTP Health Products/Flora - my fav daily good fats anti-inflammatory dose is Udo's Oil on my cereal!

Compressport - holding my muscles together, my favs at different times for different reasons include the full socks, full legs, trail shorts, trail shirt, arm warmers...oh, heck, all of it! :)

RaceReady - pocket shorts rock. Where else do you carry your pear? And the breathability of the shirts is second to none. 

Night turns to day and we spin the other direction!

UpBeat - go vasodilating rocket fuel! A pre-race loading must.

Mainpeak - the family owned and operated outdoor store with amazing, quality gear for adventures and cool staff who know adventuring. My favs from them include Icebreaker gear (at the 12hr I was wearing Icebreaker gloves and undies!), Montane jackets and pants, my Leki poles. As I head into trail season in the northern hemisphere, I'll be cramming a lot of Mainpeak gear into the suitcase!

Langer Chiropractic - sports chiro Jon Tan has had a key role in keeping me in good form and as an athlete himself, he gets it. The sad part about going overseas for me every year is that I lose the skills

of people like Jon to keep me tuned up.

In addition to these supportive sponsors, I am grateful to my supportive running mates, who keep me honest, bring laughter and challenge to our adventures, crew for me, and help in myriads of other ways so that I can keep doing the training I do. My massage therapist is a demon in all the best ways and I truly miss him when I compete away from home, too. My family gives me great sarcastic encouragement, including my mum who recently asked me what it's like to be an alien. My partner, well, I just won't even try to find words there to do justice to my gratitude.

333 laps. Ultra runners like 'even' numbers ;)

Pay it Forward

I'm going to write a more thorough blog post of my Sri Chinmoy 12 Hour race on 14-15 June, wherein I managed to break the CAN W45 6 hr record and the CAN and AUS W45 100k records, en route to 133.535km. That total represents new Open CAN and AUS 12 hour records.

For the moment...

If you have felt somehow motivated by this crazy running  of mine, please consider taking that energy and channelling it. If you feel the "push" of motivation from without, look for the "pull" of inspiration from within. I have had the incredible good fortune of good health, a great family, great friends, as much work as I want to earn money, and training opportunities to help me achieve my goals in running.

In the world right now, people are suffering. Homelessness, depression, dysentery, war, cancer, mitochondrial disease. Children are dying of starvation. Every time you blink.

Do something. Find the pull within yourself. A thing you are called to do. Get healthier. Walk. Run. Eat well. Pay your own good fortune forward. Put $10 in a charity tin. Buy a coffee for a stranger. Let someone else have that parking spot. Give. To yourself and others. The supply of good fortune is not a limited resource.

Feeling Pumped

I've got some more research reading on the go, but thought I'd devote this post to catching up on what I've been doing in terms of running since the Coburg 24hr race on 5-6 April.

The original plan, which I have commented on before, was to run 12 hours at Coburg and then run the Sri Chinmoy 24 Hour in mid-June. With my best crew away in June, I swapped the plan around. So the plan after Coburg was first to recover, then to see if the body was interested in coming along to a 12 hour party! :)

Running up "Childbirth Hill": Rule is you have to take a rock for the cairn

I messed up the beginning of recovery by over-hiking (very pretty place, Wilsons Promontory, Victoria). I had an aggravated right retinaculum (the band that's like a tensor bandage over our ankle that keeps all the foot tendons sucked down against the foot). It was likely aggravated because I seemed to have developed a subconscious habit of walking, running, and standing around with my toes flexed and pointed up, not relaxed on the surface of the world. (I have now met two others with this odd toe-flex habit). Going for walks after Coburg was helping to get the swelling out of my feet post-race. That's a good thing. BUT, then I went for a BIG hike. Like more than 3 hours. And as the podiatrist informed me later, my particular foot issue would have been aggravated by the gait pattern involved in walking. I would probably have been better to do short runs to get the swelling down! Go figure.

A week after the event, I went out for a 15 minute run. I wore my Garmin. Sounds pedantic, but I knew that if I didn't have a timepiece on me to keep me honest, I'd do too much (Hmmm, how did I get that idea??) It was trails, so that meant I covered 2k. Woohoo! From a one-day max of 238k to a 2k. It was like I'd eaten a mushroom and entered The Land of Running Extremes.

The next day I backed it up with 30 minutes. Then a mix of rest days and runs of about 7-8k. I had to ice the top of my foot at least four times per day. I had a rather large pea in my retinaculum. We all know that icing and other self-care work takes a lot more fortitude than running! My shoes were unlaced from the top row to avoid putting pressure on the joint when I flexed my foot.

The 57k run day. How did we decide everyone had to do a bridge pushup?!

Very disciplined with my recovery, I was running short and with few hills. I was icing, elevating, rolling, going to massage and the podiatrist, and getting needled. Then 3 weeks after Coburg, I went out for a nice 57k 8 hour trail run with 1650 metres of gain. Ummm, that might have to go into the "Addicted Runner's OOPS" basket! That brought the week to over 110k + elevation. A bit of a quick jump, which I was well aware of and the risks that came with it. I ramped up the self-care more and brought the distance back down below 100k for the following week. Consolidate + recover!

And then the following two weeks (we're now into the beginning of May), I ran 158k + 3100m and then 150k + 2330m. Amazed still that I can achieve weeks that are essentially double the mileage of a couple years ago.

I was also back at strength training, looking to try to bulk up a bit. It is an experiment - looking at the legs of a few of our greatest ultrarunners, including females, I saw some pretty big, ripped muscles. So I decided to conduct an experiment on myself.

When ultrarunning ends, powerlifting awaits.

The long hours running plus strength training plus the required self-care routine to manage all this (including yoga, as well) made running almost a full time job for those two weeks. I loved the running and didn't mind the self-care, but it was a LOT to manage. I started back at track, provided the body wasn't too wrecked to take on the speed work each week. I also added another new element to this block of training. Specific to my 12 hour goals, I started doing my long runs on Wednesday and Saturday so that I could do a "short" race on Sunday morning (usually backed up by a short easy trail run later in the day). By "short" race, I mean a road race of 10-15km. Though today's road race was 25k. It is now two weeks until the Sri Chinmoy 12hr, so that's my last long run or race. Wow. Writing it brings a mix of relief and wariness, as I know I will miss long easy trail runs for a few weeks.

Whilst I've had several timed goals to get off my chest this year (6/12/24hr), I admit that the best part of today's Masters Athletics 25k Road Running Championships was the short climbs up and over bridges spanning the river. I'm definitely ready for mountain running season in the northern hemisphere :) The second best part was the event itself, with great views along the Swan River and good competition and camaraderie. The third best part was that it was the final in the 50km Road Running Championships, where the combined 10k RRC, 15k RRC, and today's 25k get added together to give your 50k total. Securing wins in all three races, I also achieved a 50k PB of 3.36.08! Okay, maybe I won't get that in the 50k world rankings, given that it was over 3 events. Pesky details ;)

Masters 10k Road Running Champs (I received the Dot Browne trophy)

In terms of my fitness, my race today suggests I'm on par with my pre-race fitness for the other 2014 events. Strength wise, I have added a cm to my calves (I just happened to know those measurements from getting my Compressport calf guards.) I also have a lot more definition in my arms, abs, and legs, and can lift a lot more weight. Is this a good thing towards my ultra-endurance goals or have I gone overboard? We'll find out. And, lastly, in regards to niggles, my retinaculum has only a small (painfree) pea and my tight tib post has finally let go. If I do nothing stupid now, I should get to the start line with that body ready to party! All night long, since it's a night race.

Permission to Buy More Shoes! (Research Says, After All...)

When it comes to the stereotype about girls and shoes, I don't much fit. I figured you needed a brown pair and a black pair. In later years, this expanded to include a brown and black set of heels, too. The bonus with this mentality is that it keeps clothes shopping simpler. If you can't wear one of the 4 pair of shoes with it, you can't buy it.

Running shoes were even simpler. I had one pair, which I used solely for aerobics sessions and a few squash games. I did the "grapevine" and wore leg warmers and had a lot of hair held just-so by a lot of hairspray (gosh I hope they don't link that stuff to cancer in a few years!)

When I started running my 30 minute sessions outdoors about 14 years ago, my one pair system seemed fine. Then I started trail running in 2006 and got stuck in a car pooling van with 6 or 7 mad ultra runners who seemed to talk endlessly about all their shoes. I learned quickly that my one set of road shoes was no good, primarily for two reasons: (1) traction and (2) dry-ability. If they got soaked in mud and snow, they needed a few days to dry out. And there was no way they could be used indoors for anything again!

Here I am another 8 years on and I own no less than 12 pairs of running shoes. And that's after just throwing out two pair last week! Why so many?

Most of the current shoe family

Two reasons for me. First, specificity. Second, an increasingly gnawing feeling in my gut over the past couple years that by changing shoes several times in a week, I can help avoid repetitive strains. I've got shoes that are better suited to road, trail, sand, and pea gravel. I've got shoes in larger sizes for long races and for other times when my feet are swollen. Most of my shoes are now really lightweight (a transition I made over a few years, based on research and comfort) but I've got some beefier shoes for uber-long stuff like multi-days or backpacking or if the bottom of my foot has some sore spot.

Research over the past couple years has seemed to support this - runners with more shoes experienced fewer injuries. Rather than "breaking in your shoes", research started suggesting that shoes break in our feet! (And the rest of the chain of tendons/muscles/ligaments/joints up through knees and hips). Our bodies adjust to the shoes. The shoes do very little to adjust themselves. We change our mechanics. This seemed to ring true for me when I tried on a pair of "maximal" type highly cushioned shoes a while back. I had knee pain within 2 km. Around km 8 it abated, as I think I was learning how to adjust my gait for the shoe. Same thing happened on the next run. I sold the shoes. They just didn't feel natural. I subscribe to the theory put forth by some shoe/foot biomechanics researchers that if you put a shoe on and it immediately feels good, it's likely a good shoe for you. If it pushes your arch or feels awkward in some way as you run, it's probably not suited to you.

I was recently alerted to a 2013 article in the Scandinavian Journal of Medicine & Science in Sports which looked at 264 runners over 22 weeks. They separated runners into those who wore just one pair of shoes or those with more and compared injury rates. You know where this is going! Runners who used more shoes had lower injury risk. Why?

Shoes like views, too!

The authors hypothesise several reasons, which have come out of previous research findings. Shoe characteristics impact our running pattern. Runners in flatter shoes (less heel drop), reduce impact/shock at the heel. Worn out shoes (loss of cushioning, as one factor) cause us to increase stance time and change the dorsiflexion/plantar flexion patterns as we land and toe-off. Thus, if we change shoes more, we change the load applied to the musculoskeletal system at different points and should therefore be less prone to a repetitive load and overuse injury.

On March 31st, a very important paper was released, which I only found out about by my taking time to listen to a trail running podcast (something I haven't done in over a year!). The paper is a position statement issued by the American College of Sports Medicine (ACSM) on "Selecting Running Shoes." I mistakenly thought they hadn't issued a statement on shoes before, but it appears they had. Only the statement from way back contained all that old stuff: We should all run in highly cushioned, supportive, elevated shoes. The beautiful thing about science, no matter the discipline, is that theories are put out there and then scientists go about madly testing them. The tests of the past 10 years, as experiments and equipment became more fine-tuned, started refuting this theory. Indeed, the ACSM statement reads that there are three characteristics of a "good, safe running shoe": (1) minimal heel-to-toe drop, (2) neutral, and (3) light in weight.

Avoiding the shoe dilemma altogether.

I'm sure putting this in writing took a few years of hard work, reviewing the massive amount of literature in order to back up statements made. Nothing easily gets approved in big organisations, especially where public health and credibility to one's organisation are at stake. It will be interesting to watch what happens now in the shoe industry over the next two years. There are a lot of high drop, highly cushioned, stability shoes sitting on the market. And, indeed, at the level of the runner, a shift to this kind of shoe can require (as noted in the statement itself) biweekly strength training and a couple months of adaptation for the musculoskeletal system. Patience is not always what runners do best. If it was, I expect we'd all be really good chess players or customer service reps :)

Speaking of reps, it's time for my strength training session. Second of the week, too, coincidentally.