Week 12, Jan. 27 to Feb. 2

Leah and I spotted this red-shouldered hawk in the Presidio during our Thursday night ride. 

Beat has been engaged in a gear-making frenzy for ... well, for several months now. But this week he really upped the production, sewing several things for me in the process: A custom balaclava with detachable face mask and a cupped waterproof "schnoz" to contain moisture flow, and a pair of primaloft-lined booties to pull over my shoes in the event of extremely windy or cold weather (Frostbite stories from the Arrowhead 135 scared me very much. I wanted some insurance for the possibility of windchills below minus 30.)

This week, I plan to go shopping for my two drop bags, one which will be placed at mile 135 and one at mile 210. As a walker, these locations will be about three days apart, so I need to cram three to four days of supplies in a ten-pound bag. As with my past two Susitna 100s, I plan to prepare pocket-sized baggies of "rocket fuel" — combinations of peanut butter cups, dried fruit, peanut butter pretzels, nuts, and chocolate, ideally in a 60/30/10 carb-fat-protein ratio, with about 2,000 calories to a pound. Supplemented by a bag of gummy snacks, probably five ounces per day, and peanut butter. I may plan a more substantial percentage of my daily calories from peanut butter. I'm still pondering this one. Chewing gets really tedious and eventually painful in cold weather, and although peanut butter becomes brittle when frozen, a 250-calorie block can be devoured in two bites and goes down smooth as it thaws. Peanut butter worked really well for me when I ran low on food during PTL and had to ration while feeling hungry and depleted. Cheap peanut butter has enough sugar to stave off bonks and enough fat to feel full for a while, and is pleasingly calorie dense. Tim Hewitt basically lived off of it during his unsupported trek to Nome in 2013.

That's basically it. I'm going to keep it simple. There will probably be opportunities for a hot meal every one to two days, and I'll pack one Mountain House meal at the start and with each drop. I'm planning to start with less food, but eventually carry about 5,000 calories per day, so probably 15,000 calories in each drop. If I can keep those 5,000 calories to 2.5 pounds or less, that would be ideal. I have a few more days to ponder what to send to myself.

Beyond that, it was a good week of training. More intensive than the numbers make it seem, because those cart tows are actually pretty hard workouts.

Monday, Jan. 27: Cart tow, 1:47, 6.1 miles, 468 feet climbing. I took the cart to Rancho to run on the wide trails of Rogue Valley. Played with some harness positions and got a good hamstring workout.

Tuesday, Jan. 28: Run, 1:13, 7.3 miles, 695 feet climbing. No cart, usual Tuesday route through Monta Vista. I kept it on the slow side because of IT band concerns, but I'm not sure I need to worry about that any more. It hasn't been an issue since Steep Ravine two weeks ago.

Wednesday, Jan. 29: Cart tow, 2:14, 8.3 miles, 34 feet climbing. Tow back from Google on the bike path. For some reason it's harder on the paved path than on trails; probably because there's more friction on pavement. I practiced alternating walking with a shuffle run, and realized that the shuffle running actually isn't all that hard. It's just frustrating, because I'm still "running" a 14-minute-mile and I feel like I should be moving a lot faster than that. However, walking stays in the 17- to 20-minute-mile range, and shuffling does work different muscle groups, so I should plan to make a habit of alternating strides whenever conditions allow.

Thursday, Jan. 30: Mountain bike, 2:28, 21 miles, 2,284 feet climbing. I met Leah in the city for a Thursday night ride. She's been busy and I run too much, and anyway it's been far too long. She's had some ongoing lower back pain that prompted us to cut the ride short in Rodeo Valley. Due to my training log habit, this was perhaps the first time I wore my Garmin on a night ride with Leah, and was surprised to see that cutting our route considerably shorter than normal still netted a reasonably substantial ride. No wonder I'm always so tired after night rides with Leah. Even the truncated route earned us a delicious noodle feast at Ken Ken Ramen.

Friday, Jan. 31: Cart tow, 2:12, 6.7 miles, 703 feet climbing. Went back to Rancho and veered up another trail that I didn't remember being all that steep. It was. According to Strava, some of those grades topped 25 percent. I pulled a muscle in my lower back and I have to admit it's still nagging at me, but I've been doing some mild stretching and plan to wait a few more days before attempting another tow. And no more steep hills.

Saturday, Feb. 1: Run, 8:00, 31.2 miles, 7,036 feet climbing. Big loop through the upper Pescadero drainage. So much fun, and no issues all day, not even sore feet or legs. I wouldn't have been able to say this about so much time on my feet even a year ago, so perhaps I'm in the best "running" shape of my life. Although Alaska is sure to dispel such delusions.

Sunday, Feb. 2: Run, 1:54, 10.3 miles, 1,477 feet climbing. I hoped to put in one last "back-to-back" long weekend by riding 100 miles on my road bike on Sunday, but a rainstorm prompted me to postpone the ride. As usual after the buzz of a day-long effort, I was raring to go and had all sorts of ambitions. Beat talked me down to a moderate run ... for the best, as I was actually quite tired, but otherwise had no problems.

Total: 19:48, 69.9 miles run, 21 miles ride, 12,697 feet climbing

Just under three weeks until go time, and I plan to put in a substantial taper beforehand. This week will probably be a series of shorter runs and a cart-tow or two, and then over the weekend Beat and I hope to take one last shot at finding some snow and a colder place to tow our sleds and test out some of the homemade gear. After that, probably just mellow bike rides and slow runs to keep the legs loose. I'm normally terrible at tapers, but I am terrified of this race and want to be at my physical best as a survival tactic, so hopefully that will be motivation enough to show up at the starting line well-rested. 

Training rewards

I got out for three, two-hour cart tows this week, and for that I'm proud of myself. The best way to describe these workouts is slow, flat, and tedious — or, more simply, actual workouts, as opposed to the outdoor playing I usually engage in. I don't look forward to them at all, but they have helped me iron out some physical issues — testing out different strides, working my hamstrings without straining them, putting my butt and shoulders into a hard uphill pull rather than my back, and practicing a more efficient shuffle. Last week I averaged 19:50-minute miles on the bike path tow, and this week I improved that to 15:55-minute-miles, simply by trying to work with the cart rather than fight it (also, I suspect the brake pads are getting worn down so perhaps the resistance isn't quite as strong.) Anyway, I despise these workouts, but I also wish I started them sooner.

As feared, run-walking with "Allen" is a rather conspicuous, ridiculous thing to be doing. This photo was taken by a runner who I do not know, but made its way back to me through the network of Google+. At Rancho, an older gentleman asked if there was a baby inside the closed compartment of the cart, and another runner with a thick Italian accent gave me a lecture on how to properly use trekking poles. He actually had very good advice — hook the straps around my wrists and use them at more of an angle, which did give me more of a power push and made it easier to climb steeper slopes. I'll have to remember that the next time I embark on a mountain race in Europe.

At Rancho, I got a little too ambitious on a steep trail on Friday, and came precariously close to overstraining my back. I felt a sharp pinch on the right side of my lower back and froze in my tracks, not sure how to proceed without tearing something. As it was, the grade of that particular spot was 21 percent, and Allen and his 60 pounds of kitty litter was tugging me backward like an angry pet. Finally, I decided to bend my knees more and walk with a hunched profile that helped shift most of the weight to my lower body. I turned around shortly after that. Even with brake resistance, trying to manage the cart down those grades was terrifying.

So it was a rather mundane week of training, and I felt justified rewarding the weekday work with a relaxed weekend outing on a series of trails I've been wanting to link up for some time. Amid all the local bike-splorations I've done in the three years I've lived in California, there's a blank spot on my personal map where bikes are strictly forbidden. I caught rumors of some delicious singletrack in this area, and in truth a lot of mountain bikers poach these trails. But it's not in my personality to break such laws, and honestly I'm just as happy running on bike-free trails. I went on Strava to map out a course and discovered I'd effectively re-created the Saratoga Fatass 50K course ("Fatass" is a nonsensical term for an unofficial, usually self-supported race gathering.) It makes sense that this route already has an official designation — it's a grand tour of everything the Santa Cruz Mountains have to offer — grassy hillsides with sweeping vistas framed by the Pacific, mossy redwood forests, sandstone-dotted ridges, and manzanita tunnels. This single loop on low-traffic trails, 95 percent singletrack, just happens to be exactly fifty kilometers in length (31.2 miles.)

Our friends Harry and Martina joined us for the run starting at Saratoga Gap and Long Ridge. They were going to keep it short and run and out and back, but enticing trails spurred them to stretch out their run all the way to Big Basin.

The Slate Creek Trail in Portola Redwoods State Park had a particularly loamy surface that made it feel like we were descending on foam cushions. I loved this.

The former site of Page Mill, next to one of the few old-growth redwoods they spared due to its spiraling grain.

Butano Ridge. For the entire beautiful Saturday morning and afternoon, we saw almost no one out on these trails — just a couple of hikers and one poaching mountain biker. They're a little off the beaten path, but not that much. If you visit Big Basin Headquarters on a Saturday afternoon, you will encounter many dozens of people on the most popular trails.

The sandstone-studded Basin Trail, with views of the Pacific.

Taking it all in. Our friends expressed some regret about committing to twenty-plus miles of a run they'd planned to keep significantly shorter, but only some.

We split off at Skyline to the Sea Trail, which Beat and I followed back up the ridge to Saratoga Gap. It was an eight-hour run with seven hours of moving time, about 7,000 feet of climbing, carrying all of our food and water for the day ... and it felt really relaxed and just enjoyable the entire time. There's something to be said about trying to get into race shape by building endurance — the challenge is in the training, the test is in the race, but the rewards are days like this — an adventure run with friends, covering a lot of ground and having fun on new trails.

And we caught a nice sunset on the way back to Big Basin to pick up Harry and Martina. The link to the Strava route is here. If you're a trail runner in the Bay Area, seriously, download this track and head out ... today if possible. It's a fantastic run. And what a way to spend Super Bowl Sunday!

I had a road century all mapped out for my Sunday outing — in my opinion, Super Bowl Sunday is the best day of the year to embark on a long road ride. However, the forecast now calls for 90 percent chance of rain all day — for which I am thrilled — but dusty pavement and new rain slick and road bikes on routes with 11,000 feet of descending just don't mix. So for now I'm postponing the ride and will hopefully embark on a muddy rain run instead. I hope it rains a lot. We need it. 

Week 11, Jan. 20-26

Beat and I were really hoping to get at least one winter-training weekend in before we head to Alaska, but there is almost no snow to be found in the entire state of California. Yosemite Webcam views show open fields and bare pavement, and a friend reported hiking on dry dirt on the Tahoe Rim Trail, in January. The cold-weather gear testing wouldn't do us much good anyway, when it's 40 degrees overnight at 7,000 feet. Yes, it's summer in January here on the West Coast, from California on up to Nome, Alaska (51 degrees this week!) Here in the Bay Area we have sweaty outings in the high 70s. I admit this makes me grumpy. Not only do we have to endure summer discomfort all over again (wasps, chunder trails, sunburn), but I envision actual summer turning out much like a Steinbeck novel.

The grumpiness persists because I encountered a bad batch of allergies this week. I don't know what I am allergic to, but symptoms manifest as mild congestion, an uncomfortable rash, and resulting sleep disruption. I'm not actually sick, but I feel downtrodden as though I were sick, and so I'm demotivated about things and also guilty that I feel so demotivated. Going outside seems to help with the symptoms, but it's a chore to boost myself out the door when it's hot and I know sweat is going to exacerbate the rash. Last year, my doctor speculated that laundry detergent was causing this reaction. I switched that up to a sensitive skin brand, but had another bout last summer, so I switched my body wash. Looks like I need to think of some other household products to target. Or who knows? Perhaps I am just allergic to unseasonable heat. Allergies are stupid like that.

Okay, I was going to try to keep the grump out of this post as much as possible. I did have a nice week of training, and got some decent work done despite an ongoing desire to dunk my whole body in an ice bath for hours on end. I realize there's a polar vortex on the East Coast right now, and I have a few friends and acquaintances who are enduring a long night in the deep minus 20s in the Arrowhead 135, so I do try to keep perspective. It's actually pretty nice here. Okay, it's gorgeous. Grump, grump, grump.

Monday, Jan. 20: Rest. I decided to book-end a big weekend with rest days.

Tuesday, Jan. 21: Run, 1:12, 7.3 miles, 684 feet of climbing; I slowed up my running because of IT band concerns after Steep Ravine. The issue didn't come up at all this week.

Wednesday, Jan. 22: Road bike. 1:59, 22 miles, 4,200 feet climbing. I had to run some errands anyway so took the opportunity to drive out to Woodside and ride from Kings Mountain Road to Tunitas Creek and back. I love this route; it's so smooth and zippy for a ride on winding mountain roads with a ton of climbing.

Thursday, Jan. 23: Mountain bike, 0:46, 10.1 miles; Cart tow, 3:12, 9.5 miles, 302 feet climbing. Ah, the cart tow. A friend asked me what exactly is so difficult about towing a cart and/or sled, and the truth is that, minute for minute, there's nothing terribly hard about it. I just build up expectations based on running fitness that don't, for many obvious reasons, translate directly to man-hauling. Without extra weight and resistance, 10-minute-miles are easy breezy, but add a cart or sled and suddenly the same or more effort only nets half the speed. When I think about 350 such miles, I sort of want to hurl, not even taking into account the cold, the harsh weather, the remote isolation, and all of that other stuff. Even 350 miles of similar effort on a treadmill over ten days would make me feel a little queasy. But you take it one mile at a time, one minute at a time if you must. Take care of the body and mind, stay fascinated with the small pictures and determined about the big picture, and eventually you'll get there. The challenge of the slog is a process I actually do love, but it intimidates me, too.

Friday, Jan. 24: Run, 1:22, 6.6 miles, 1,592 feet climbing. Headed out to Oakland to meet with Ann, and we went for a run in the hills with her friend Steve. I had a chance to explain my ideas for a book project, and she seemed very interested. I know my blog makes it seem like I do nothing with my life but play outside and travel and race, which is maybe partially true. But in between the lines, I managed to pile up a number of projects and contractual responsibilities, and now it's time to really focus on the ones that are most important. A book about Ann has a lot of potential, and I have some ideas to bring the story to life for a large audience of readers, not just hardcore runners. And she likes my ideas, enough to give the go-ahead on crafting a book proposal. This has nothing to do with my training log, but I'm very excited about it.

Saturday, Jan. 25: Run, 2:55, 14 miles, 2,210 feet climbing. Beat did a cart-tow, and I walked with him for the first 2.5 miles to Rancho (he was actually shuffling, but the pace qualifies as a pleasant stroll for the person without the cart.) Then Liehann and I took off up the hill and ran the remaining 11.5 miles. My allergies were bothering me a lot, and I struggled on the climb, but eventually run fatigue took my mind off the clawing itchiness, and I was able to enjoy the back half.

Sunday, Jan. 26: Road bike, 5:30, 68.4 miles, 7,936 feet climbing. Allergies were making me crazy; this ride was my own way of crawling out of my skin for a few hours. Since IT band pain never flared up this week, I thought I should put in a longer run. But temperatures were nearing 80 and a ride beneath redwood canopy sounded so much more pleasant. Also, I was still experiencing some cart-tow angst, and I wanted to do something fast and flowing. Road biking around here is so much fun. I dislike riding with traffic, which is the main reason I don't embark on long road rides more often. But on this day I picked a good route:

Nice views on Skyline Ridge.

Narrow, quiet roads.

Big Basin Redwoods. Great spot. If Beat and I can't find snow next weekend (and it's looking extremely unlikely), I may just throw out the run training altogether and ride centuries instead. No matter what I do, dragging a sled across Alaska is going to be damn hard. But for now, it's summer in California, and I suppose I should enjoy it.

Total: 16:56, 37.4 miles run, 100.5 miles ride, 16,924 feet climbing