Monday, August 21, 2017

Twisted Branch Trail Run - Lessons & Reflection

If there was ever a race that I kept asking, are we there yet, this is that race. I wanted the sensations of this self-imposed torture to be over.

62+ miles in and I am laying down just off the side of the trail trying to settle myself. There is less than a mile and a half to go and I'm at one of the worst places I have ever been in a race. I'd been dry-heaving for a spell at this point. My body was spent and broken. I'd been using a branch on and off again throughout as a 'nature's trekking pole'. Now I had two and I wasn't even climbing. Despite not having the race I planned, there was a shot at a respectable sub 13 hour finish and top 5 placing. There was an hour and eighteen minutes to cover a supposed 4.5 miles with a big climb coming out of the last aid station (58.2 mile). Yet, here I was now, taking 3-5 minute laydowns on the trail to move a couple of hundred feet before rinsing and repeating all because I could not stop the urge to dry-heave when moving upright.

How the heck did I wind up here like this?

To answer that question, we have to go back to last May. I had targeted World's End as a challenging 100K A-race but never made the starting line due to a bout of anxiety. Still wanting to challenge myself, I looked into the Twisted Branch Trail Run up in NY. It was the 100K distance I had missed out on at WE. And to boot it was sponsored by Montrail. I entered the race. Going in, I was fit and ready to go only to not make the starting line. While sleeping my truck, around 1am, I woke up with half my nose swollen. Opting to be medically cautious, I immediately drove home.

So this year around Feb, the race director, Scott Magee reached out to me to see if I was interested in participating in this year's race. My response amounted to something along the lines of HELL YEAH!!! This immediately became my summer A-race. I was excited to see what I could do on this course. Also, Twisted Branch fit in nicely with other plans leading up to the event except until they didn't.

Apparently, the time between February and August is a long time where anything can happen. Heck, the time between mid-June when I ran TGNY 100 and mid-August is a long time. It was within this span, that the seeds to me laying on the trail were borne. Except, I didn't really know it.

It was in this span that my life stresses severely spiked. Or at least the stress levels spiked for me. Another person might have reacted differently. Without bogging down in those details, three main things happened. Deck added onto the house (planned financial stress but still stressful for me nonetheless), important project at work thrust on me suddenly on the day I return from a mini-vacation and my company being acquired. Other stress points did too but I'd rather not write all day on what gives me stress. (You've probably already heard enough in the history of this blog.)  I started to unravel. At one point, Peg mentioned to me that it didn't look like I was enjoying running. Let's face it, I wasn't enjoying much period. (And I'm confessing I was not my best self. I just didn't realize it. Just keep going.) With these stress points, I was spending a lot of time in the 'fight or flight' phase. It's incredibly taxing on the body and doesn't resolve itself quickly, even if you think you move past it.

Anyways, I was still looking forward to the race and felt confident that I was fit. Going in, I felt I could win and at worst top 3. Considering there was prize money this year, it gave me extra incentive to throw down. Of course, I had to get to the race site first. For this, it was going to require 5 hours of driving. Ugh. It could be I've done too many of these drives or just hate long trips in the car but it was the part of this I was looking forward to the least. With having to get up to Hammondsport for the shuttle to the start/camp on Friday night by 6pm, I opted to leave my house around 10am so I could read and relax a bit. Settle myself down from the drive it you will. After having to stop at three stores to pick up Shot Blocs (REI had them while the two cycling shops where I have gotten them in the past were out, in addition to another cycling shop and running store being out earlier in the week), I was on the PA Turnpike NE Extension on my way. After driving throw some scary rain with a gas refill and Arby's fry stop, I made it around 4pm where I relaxed in the back of the truck for a bit.

Eventually, I caught the shuttle out to the overnight camping at Ontario County Park. The location to camp was awesome. Arriving at 7pm to get my bib and catch an 8:15 race brief made it a tad later to settle in than I would like. Especially, since I had to set up a tent and have everything ready for a 3am wake-up, dress and repack for a 4am start. A little reading and Sudoku relaxed me until it was time to sleep. I slept well and woke up nervous but ready. I had decided to race with my Nathan VaporKrar pack with ExoShot bottles filled with Tailwind upfront. In the upper pockets, I had my ShotBlocs. I also had my Nathan Hipster on in the event the ShotBlocs bothered me where they were located. (Never ended up needing to transfer.) Shoe wise, I went with Montrail FKT's. I knew the course had various terrain and heard the stories of the course beating people up (Hello, 44% finishing rate.) and felt it would be the right shoe. I had considered going to LaSportiva Vertical K's but given the rolling of the course and the feeling the shoes a bit too tight for my liking in that moment of decision, I left them 'on the shelf'.

4am hit and we were off. A small group of us formed single file pretty quickly. It was a friendly talkative group and that made me happy. There was talk about shoes. The trail ahead. Rich Heffron and I did some chatting about Philadelphia. Around the first aid station, Jim Sweeney pulled away on a long road section. He was locked in. Rich and I gained on him as we were together, until we were no longer. My race all changed with a simple down tree. For whatever reason, I am not entirely sure, going over that tree spiked the sensation of anxiety. For me, I feel that in my chest/heart. From a couple of years ago when I was knowingly running with anxiety and dropping out of races, I knew it was not necessarily a level of my ability or being over/undertrained. However, I did not come up to Twisted Branch to DNF. Immediately, I went into manage mode. Mind you, I am not even 12.5 miles in to the beast. This was way too early but I figured I could recover. Keep running smooth. Keep the sensation down (which in the middle of the race, I referred to as my heart rate spiking.) What I really needed was to get into a rhythm. One big problem with that. This race does not allow for much rhythm if you are not on. It is the perfect opportunity to just be flailing endlessly. And to be honest, that is the way to describe my day. Decent patches mixed with horrible patches. If you look at my section splits, 4 sections, one of which is my last, were attrocious. Otherwise, it was not all that horrible of a race. But when those bad sections cause you to lose 20+ minutes to the top 3, you are in for it. I was in for it.

After the second aid station, Scotie Jacobs passed me. I just couldn't even muster any sense of keeping contact at that point. Then I got into a groove on a downhill only to miss a right turn. During my backtrack hike up the hill, I was passed falling into 5th. In fact, I was behind two other people making the turn as I picked back up the trail again so I was in 7th. Eventually, I moved back up into 5th and yo-yo'd with Seth Almekinder (now a 3-time race finisher) throughout much of the next few aid stations before pulling away some after The Patch AS around mile 35.6. At no point was I really enjoying much of anything. Normally, I feel like I'm taking in the scenery even if the day is rough. At Twisted Branch, I was so far into the suffer well, I was not even taking mental pictures for my memory bank to appreciate.

I kept adjusting my goals. Going in to the race, it was win. Then it was place third. (A sub 11 was also included in there.) Now it was make it under 12 hours. I told myself make it 40 miles in 8 hours and I have a shot maybe. Still I was thinking 14 hours was more realistic.

When I hobbled my way into Bud Valley at just before 40 miles, I got a surprise. Pat Heine, another member of the Pennsylvania trail/ultra runner community, asked if I wanted a pacer. Considering where I was, it was a most welcome offer. I said 'sure' and after downing some coke, we were off. Right off the bat, I pretty much laid out the landscape: my day sucked, looking likely at 14 hours and my pace is crap. Not to mention I was still continuing to have 'anxiety spikes'. When they got bad, I would sit on a log or rock to re-center myself. Somewhere in there I apologized for being slower than my normal self. Pat was a sport. He was originally crewing/pacing a friend of his who dropped out. Having Pat did give me a boost as evidenced by the third fastest segment time of the day to the next aid station. Mike Welden who say me at AS3, remarked I looked better when I reached AS 8 at Glenbrook. Of course, I followed that with a lousy segment that may or may not have been the one where I sat down at a cemetery in the middle of the course. What I do remember is having to sit on a log in a spot that Pat ran into people he knew. It was also in this segment that I laid down for a couple of minutes on the side of a gravel road stretch. For everything Bud Valley to Glenbrook was, this was almost the complete opposite. One thing that was decent feedback was, when I was moving, I moved well. Just I couldn't keep it consistent. Arriving at Lake David took forever. However, I managed to string two decent sections together. Pat told me when hit 6 min pace for a couple of segments.

At Mitchellsville, I sat down and got some coke on ice along with some great course info what lied ahead. A short 3 mile section and a 5 mile stretch. The 3 mile stretch was my favorite of the day (here is one of the rare mental images of the course, I have) despite going left when I should gone right again. This cost a minute or two. Still, as we neared the last aid station, the potential for a sub 13 was out there. I had an hour and twenty minutes to go 4.5 miles (gonna say it now....BS this stretch is longer.) I felt good and told Pat I was going to power up the climb that stood before us. And using one of nature's handy poles, I was. Then at some point, things went south. Bad. Mentally, the course broke me as I didn't know at what point the descent began. And then, physically, I wanted to dry-heave. Still we moved. Periodically, I was asking Pat how far we had gone (I don't race with a GPS watch) and pace. Both figures pointed to still a good shot at sub 13. We hit the little road section before the final switchback down on the Triad Trail. Or course, we hit the Triad Trail and it is not fully downhill and I'm done. I just shut down. I'd been stopping to dry-heave before we hit the road but now I needed to do that AND lay down on the trail. I was trying to search the landscape to see how close to the bottom we were but I couldn't find it. It just looked too far. With that, I broke. Seth ended up passing me with less than a mile to go. And then as I laid down what ended up being around 1/2 mile from the finish, two more people passed me dropping me to 8th. I was toasted. I was not using two branches to keep me up and moving. Not too fast or I would begin to dry-heave again. Eventually, the finish was in sight. And instead of running it in like a moment of glory, I walked with my branches accompanied by Pat over the line. The final section took me 1:58 minutes. For perspective, Seth finished 27 minutes ahead of me for 5th after being 13 minutes behind me coming out of the last aid station. I will say finishing by the lake is pretty cool and I think I would have appreciated it more on a different day.

Upon dragging my carcass over the line, I took off my pack and laid down. Scott, the RD, got me some ice to put under my neck. I can't remember who said it but I was told to also try to get some under my armpits for cooling me down. Not going to lie, it was pleasant just laying there. Whatever was going on around me really didn't matter. I didn't have to get up because at that point, I didn't have anywhere to go. My suffering was over.

Really have to thank Pat Heine immensely for offering to be a surprise pacer. Pat was the hero of the day. I really would not have been able to finish the way I did without him. Even with my needing to dry-heave, lay down, whatever, he did keep me moving. Mentioning how long I was down for at moments was an incredibly helpful nudge. He was a breath of fresh air and allowed me to not be in my own head for the 6 hours and 25 miles on the course together.

Also, want to thank Scott Magee for organizing such a well run event. Sure, some of the logistics for solo folks between the start/finish is hard, especially with a 4am start time, it appeared to have gone off without a hitch. Sorry, I couldn't put on a better show. Of course, I don't think that matters with the show Jim Sweeney put on in crushing the course record by 50 minutes! Thanks so much for having me.

Many many thanks to the volunteers. All of them were beyond incredible. They really made an impact in getting me to the finish.

Now, when I started this blog post, I included 'Lessons & Reflections' in the title. Much of what I have said tackles my reflections of the race as those in the moment points but not necessarily the real crux.

Trust me, this is going to be short.


  • Running after/with anxiety is hard. It might be a sign to scale back. This is one of those lessons I think I know but keep forgetting. Pushing through is counterproductive.
  • Usually, on a bad day, historically, I've taken the DNF. I'm proud to have pushed through to finish. While not the redemption I wanted, it got me there unlike last year when I never saw the start. I adjusted as needed to throughout. 


That's it. Told you it would be short. Those really are the biggest takeaways worth noting.

Where do I go from here?

Originally, I planned on another 100K at the end of next month out in CO. It is flat and multi-loop. Considering still going out and doing a different distance. I'll take the next two weeks to see. A vacation in the woods is around the corner. Those always help so it would be foolish to completely write off the 100K but right now if I had to guess, it is likely a 50K if I make the trip.

Chances are getting in another 100 Mile in this year is probably too much for me. I need to cut some stress load and the logistic worry of planning for one might be completely counterproductive to the long term.

At this moment in time, I might just need a season of local 5K's. (Let's be clear this does not rule out any long races. I just probably should not be doing 1-2 drive a month of 3-5 hours.) Little travel and less time from a race perspective might be what I need. To circle back around to Peg's comment about looking like I'm not having fun, I need to get back to that fun. You could say there is more to life. I just don't always remember that with tunnel vision.





Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Pinchot Trail - An FKT?

So in life no everything goes according to plan. Some of us handle changes better than others.

(I am personally in the latter category. I dislike changes to running plans and have a tougher time than I should with them. Lingering physiological effects remain until I claw myself to a solution to acclimate as best as possible. This does not always go smoothly.)

Without getting into a ton of details, my intentions to race my final pre-Twisted Branch tune-up at the Allegheny Front Trail Run were not able to come to pass. (Logistics are hard and stressful. I do not always handle stress too well.) Of course, I needed to do something that would work my mental race prep and effort. I needed to keep the plan. Due to a lack of options, I dug into the idea of an FKT.

After a survey of my friends, I settled on running the Pinchot Trail that is a part of the Pocono Plateau. Unlike the other options I had considered, it was 2 hours away as opposed to 4. Various sources for the trail listed it between 23 and 26 miles. Going by the posting at the trailhead, I'll call that the official non-GPS length of 23 miles. A slight bummer on the lower figure because 26 would be closer to the planned 50K. However, that tidbit was something I wouldn't really find out until I took the two hour drive on Saturday morning.

Hey! Guess what? Spoiler alert, I drove two hours up to Pinchot State Forest and the Pinchot Trail on Saturday morning.

Drive up was rather smooth. I listened to Adele and Lady Gaga on the way up. As I pulled into the parking at the trailhead, two other people were getting ready to start a hike. I would pass them on the trail later on. First things first. I had to gear up. I put on my old La Sportiva Vertical K's. I considered using Inov-8 Trail Rocs but opted for lighter and what I felt would be better grip. Fluid wise, I was going to be drinking Tailwind from my Nathan ExoDraw. Originally, I was thinking about an older larger Nathan bottle. (I don't even remember the model since I've had it for 5 years.) In the end, I settled for the soft flask primarily for the ability to have less bounce if I tuck it into the waist of my shorts. Solids would be in the form of ShotBlocs.

Things I knew going in: Blazes were orange. Parts of the trail were overgrown (thanks to David Stango for that info). I'm in Pennsylvania.

Things I learned before I started: 23 miles and not 26. (Oh well, guess I'll be done sooner.)

I was getting a later start than I wanted. Ideally, I would have been starting at 9am but 9:30 wasn't too far off. Plus with 3 less miles, it would work out, right?

Going in my expectation/goal for the 26 was under 4 hours.

At around 9:30, I hit the start on my GPS and off, I went. Within the first mile, I passed a couple that had been camping and the two hikers I saw in the lot. Shortly after, I popped out on the first intersection with an orange turn. I was confused. I didn't see the next blaze up. I pulled out the map I had on me and it looked like I was to go straight and bear left. Since there was some blazes on the right side of the tree I was staring at, I picked that route and went straight until I saw an orange diamond blaze marking a snowmobile trail. I know some places share uses so I figured I found the right way. However, I was not really seeing orange blazing. Then eventually I saw two posts with it. I continued without issue until I saw a car in a camping area. I was troubled by this. I hit a gravel road where I should have been able to go straight but could not. So I went left up the road. Eventually, I saw an intersection that had orange blaze on the right. At this point, I figured I went the right way.

Until...I stopped for a moment and looked left to see the trail I should have come up. Apparently, I messed up that original intersection. Knowing, I would not be satisfied with making up the route since it would not meet my criteria for why I was there, I headed back to where I started on the trail I missed. Not wanting to expend too much, I walked the bulk of this. Or I should say bushwhacked because this was clearly overgrown. The trail was below but the vegetation came over the trail making it so hard to see. Eventually, on my return, I saw the hikers and campers again. And also learned where I went wrong. When I popped out and went right, if I looked 300 meters mile up the road, I would have seen some orange. Not expecting it to have been that far. D'oh.

Anyways, I made it back to the trailhead. (5 mile warmup) I reset myself and my GPS. I swapped shoes and socks as my feet were damp. Plus, it was a tad rockier than I expected. (I expected rocks but a little more spacing.)

Just shy of 11am, attempted to go out again. Within the first tenth of a mile at the trail registry, my GPS dumped. Reset number 2. Satellite resync'd with the GPS and off for the third try. I moved through the first mile a little easier since I know some of the footing a tad better and definitely was moving better when I knew to go left off Powder Magazine. Up Sassafras Hill again was bushwhacking. At least I knew it was coming. Most of the time, I was looking through brush to avoid tripping over a rock or root. Eventually, I popped out to where I caught my mistake before at the junction with the North Line Trail. At first this opened up for a bit and made me think I would run some quick length. Yeah right. Back into the woods and being careful to not misstep. It was here on the downhill, I passed the two hikers from earlier in the morning. I commented how they probably are wondering what the heck I am doing and told them I was trying to rush the loop in one go as fast as possible. They were amazing I was staying upright on the rocky terrain. For much of what is referred to as the north loop, the brush had sizable sections of overgrowth. I'm glad I went counterclockwise for the trail as it would suck bushwhacking after 15 miles. I'd be sure to face-plant.

After around 6.8 miles, I hit the White Line trail which has a nice gently grade and which made me feel like I was moving. That is until I crossed into the lower South loop where I immediately hit some swamp trail. Following a mushy mile or so, I hit a patch of gravel rd (Tannery Rd) where I ended up missing a right turn into a deer enclosure. I didn't go too far off and realized quickly. Honestly, not sure why we go through the enclosure since we pop back out onto the same road less than a 1/4 mile later for the largest gravel road segment of the day. A quick right onto the Choke Creek trail starts out nice and straight and then gets a little twisty. The coverage was good. Despite it getting hotter, I was in the shade more that the north section which seemed to have more exposed sections. (It still had a lot of shade.)

Choke Creek was nice to be running along the creek. It was running so strong, it was like a mini river and a little 'flooded' as evidenced by where the trail was in relation to the water. (Like right next to it and visible signs of the banks having covered the trail). Now I was getting a little tired here and began to check my maps more to see how long I had to go. At the end of the day this would cost me more time than I should have lost. (In other words, there is meat still on the bone to be taken off the final time.)  At every intersection, I was trying to figure out where I had just gone. Also, the trail began to get rockier again. or at least it was seeming that way to me. It was either nice running or rocks. Never the two shall meet. I was clipping a rock or two here or there a tad more. I felt fine energy wise but was experiencing some mental drain. Not knowing the trail, I was working mentally harder guiding myself to not get lost and pace properly. I was trying to expect everything. What I really expected was some more butter. HAHA.

Eventually, I hit out to Bear Lake Rd for the final mile or so back to the trailhead. I was happy to hit the parking lot but had to keep going until I met the registry where I started. In the end, I tapped out/clocked in at 3:47:01 for a GPS reading of 21.65. Now, with the foliage, I'm sure it will skew the reading some. I would imagine it would amount closer to the 23.

That said, I'm glad I completed the loop and set the initial standard. Can it be done faster? Absolutely. I reasonably think 20 minutes can come off this time. Maybe I'll go after it again now that I know the trail. Maybe I'll do it in the spring when the temps are cool and the vegetation might be a bit less. Fall might be hard if leaves end up covering the trail. Still, I'm glad to have accomplished this in the face of adversity the trail itself through at me. Having to start 3 times tested my mental ability. I knew I would not be bearable for people if I failed. Now did this accomplish everything I needed it to? I'm not sure. I'm trying to figure that out. For now...here's the data.

Pinchot Trail FKT - 8-5-17