Northwest Passage with Team Fly by Night

At just before 12:30pm last Saturday, I crossed the finish line with Team Fly by Night to complete the Ragnar Northwest Passage Relay. We were tired, sweaty, and in one case, fighting stomach issues after a recent trip to Mexico. Despite this, we completed the 168 mile relay course! And we did it in a respectable 26 1/2 hours.

It felt like much further in the past, but it was just the morning before when our team met up at the Northgate Park n' Ride in Seattle to count our gear and begin this adventure.

After making sure we had enough head lamps, reflective vests and food, 12 runners piled into a minivan and an SUV, and headed north to the relay start in Blaine, Washington.

Over the next day, teammates in each van took turns running legs of the race lasting 3-9 miles, while runners in the other van rested and ate.

Now to be honest, my squad, van 2, started our day pretty relaxed.

Because we were running second (slots 6 - 12), we first stopped in Bellingham, baked cookies at a teammate's house, napped on plush couches and watched Ferris Buelers Day Off on a 50'' TV. This was all while the other van of Fly by Night teammates hit the start line and began the run southbound in 85°F weather (guess life just isn't fair).

baton ragnar wrist band

We killed a few hours at Kelly's house, then headed to the first exchange point for a safety briefing and warm-up run. After getting confirmation by cell phone that Joe, the last runner in van 1, was just under a mile away, we crowded the hand-off point. Kelly, our next runner, stood bouncing with energy, yearning to go.

In a blink of an eye, Joe screamed around the corner, crowds cheered and Kelly took the "baton", an organge slap bracelet labeled with the Ragnar logo.

Bam, she took off. Kelly's 5'1' frame soared down the road.

Van 1 would now get a few hours to rest and drive to the next hand-off point. Meanwhile me and Van 2 began leap frogging Kelly to make sure she had water and food, and that she stayed on course as we pushed south.

Team Fly by Night did this for the rest of Saturday and through the early hours of Sunday. Runner after runner would hop out of the van, strap on a head lamp and beat a path into the darkness. It felt like some crazy game.

I started my second leg, a downhill trek of 5.4 miles, at the groggy hour of 3:15 am. While I promised myself that I'd hold a steady and slow pace, the excitement of the night got the best of me, so I furiously chased the bobbing white and red lights in front of me (runners from other teams). My pace sped up from 9...8... then 7 min/mile as I burned downhill.

Night exchange point

The descent was taking its toll and by the time I reached Deception Pass, my quads were numb. Finishing this leg was the only thing in my mind.

As I crossed the Deception Pass bridge, the ground was lit only by my headlamp and the full moon. This was probably a good thing. I'd be too scared to run if I could see the dark water far below the narrow bridge walkway.

Just before dawn, my van got to La Conner High School. Some of us grabbed showers, while others slep on the floor of the gymnasim. The sight of hundreds of bodies laying on the floor was surreal--a cross between a camping adventure and an emergency shelter.

After less than two hours, our team woke, dressed and prepared to receive the baton once more. Luckily everyone was healthy and energized. As we had done before, we met Van 1 and the runners exchanged the slap bracelet. The race for us was on once more... south to Langley.

At a quarter to noon on Saturday I received the last handoff just east of Rt. 525, the last 4.8 of our 168 mile relay. This leg would finish the race.

Unlike my previous routes, I had some elevation to contend with, with a big hill just before I entered town. I pushed hard and was coated in sweat as I entered Langley. Shirtless, I dodged tourists on the sidewalk and closed in on the final mile.

A few hundred feet from the finish line, my teammates Heather, Bob, Kelly, Catherine, Joe, Michele, Mike, Natasha, Ed, Molly, and Ted joined me and we finished the relay together as a team. A perfect ending.

The Ragnar Northwest Passage Relay was an amazing journey with Fly by Night. We met wonderful people, saw beautiful parts of Washington and traveled hundreds of miles by foot. Incredible.

We'll be back next year!

In the meantime, I have bigger things to worry about. Below is a video from our Northwest Passage journey.

[Youtube="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIhB6GuHF2U"]

White River 50... What?

While hiking about three months ago, I met a runner at the summit of Tiger Mountain who was taking a break from looping the steep trails. Doug was decked out in a Nathan Hydration Vest, mud-covered trail runners and a pair of wrap-around shades.

He looked all business.

This sparked  my curiosity, so I asked if he was training for something.

"White River" he said.

"What's that?"

"The White River 50 Mile Endurance Run. It's an ultra in July" he mentioned.

After a few minutes of chatting, Doug sipped some water and took off on a trail that crossed the rest of the Tiger peaks.

50 miles, whoa.

I had read about ultra marathons before, but never really considered what training for one looked like. Doug put a face on this, and it was a serious one.

I wondered if I could run it.

After a few weeks of grappling with the idea and reading the White River website, I got my nerve up and registered for the July 31 race.

Fast forward to last Sunday. The organizers of White River held the second of two training runs on a section of the actual course. Myself and about 25 other runners tackled 22 miles and climbed 5,000 feet, finishing in around 4 hours. It was tough, but food, water and great comradely made it bearable.

The last six miles of the run were down an old stone and dirt logging road. While we got plenty of "free speed", the constant pounding transformed my quads into jello. As I finished the last mile, I struggled to contemplate how I'd be able to do that run, plus more elevation and another 28 miles tacked on for the actual race. No time to think.

At the bottom of the hill, myself and a bunch of other runners dipped our legs in the glacier run-off to reduce swelling. After the initial shock of the near freezing temperature, the water was refreshing and helped to make the limp back to the car less painful.

Now its time to rest, heal up and pray for race day, July 26.

Below are photos and a few video clips from the training run.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyVTiYqX-AU]

Running for... Heat Exhaustion

Friday, YES!

Summer was finally here, and I was excited to have my work week over.

As I drove home yesterday, I contemplated which route I would run in this georgous weather. The radio said the temperature was pushing north of 90°F, intense for this region, "...but I was from the East Coast" I thought.

I can handle this!

So, I parked my car, headed into my house and put on my running gear. I decided to do a 6 mile route down and around Green Lake. I could steal some shade from trees on the sidewalk heading down to the lake and would bring my hydration vest for water.

I gulped down two glasses of juice and ate a banana.

Without thinking twice, I tightened the laces on my Brooks sneakers, and headed out the door.

BAM! The hot air hit my face and body. With each breathe, the air proved un-refreshing to my lungs. I've run this route many times before, but never in these conditions.

The sun beat down upon the pavement, heating everything 30°+ beyond normal. I started jogging and within just a few feet, sweat started trickling down my back. I took a pull of water from my hydration pack, but it too was heated by the sun through the exposed tubing.

Despite this, I was able to continue running and made it down to Green Lake.

As the downhill leveled to a flat trail, the effects of the weather started to take their toll. My head started pounding and my pace slowed.

With this slower cadence, I continued to run around Green Lake, passing sun bathers and families resting in the shade. However, with each stride, my body felt weaker. I was running, but was hurting and my stomach started to ache.

Normally, I pride myself on my stomach's robustness, but at that moment, it felt ready to lose itself. Maybe that juice and banana before the run was a bad idea?

At the same moment, my head began to pound louder than ever. I realized that I was suffering from some type of heat exhaustion and needed to cool down ASAP!

Luckily, about 200 feet ahead were the bathrooms by the Green Lake boat house. I sought refuge in the building and made a bee-line for the sinks. After pouring water onto my neck and back, and sipping water from my hydration pack, I started to gain my senses.

Whoa.

After dousing myself in water a second and third time, I walked outside and stood next to the lake. A breeze began to cool my damp body and my headache, lessened.

Running in this weather, at this intensity, was obviously a dumb call on my part. I ran too fast, and didn't listen to the signals my body was sending.

Once I cooled down and collected my senses, I finished the route, but at a much slower pace. For the last three miles I was careful to take note of my heart-rate, breathe, and perspiration, and took frequent sips of water.

My fellow blogger Kristina Moats offers some great tips on running in hot weather. I'll know better for next time.

Is Running Addictive?

Sure, drugs, alcohol and cigarettes can be addictive, but can running be, too? Hmm... This came up on a recent walk with a friend. Carol and I looped Greenlake and she mentioned how she knows some folks in the ultra-marathon  community (people who run 50, 75, 100+ miles at a time) who are recovering drug addicts.

Carol mentioned how for these extreme runners, in a sense, one addiction was given up for another. In this case, a chemical dependancy was exchanged for a runner's high (see this article in Science Daily on treating alcoholism).

Maybe running is addictive?

I mean, running, like most sports, releases Endorphins into brain. This simulates some of the same sensations that occur from narcotics (though, probably to a lesser extent).

Jogging along, one foot in front of the other for hours on end is tough. And yet, people still do it. Maybe it HAS to be addictive, otherwise the trails and streets in the NW wouldn't be as packed as they are with enthusiasts.

But that's just my thoughts on it. What do you think? Is running addictive, or is a "Runner's High" just a covert marketing ploy by the big shoe companies?

Add a comment below.

-R4C

I'm Not An Athlete

I played two, terrible seasons of little league when I was in 3rd and 4th grade. My position was left outfield (or "left out" as my teammates reminded me).

All the youth helmets were too small for my oversized head, so I had to borrow a coach's helmet before meekly trudging out to the plate. I failed to hit the ball even once during any of my  dozens of at-bats.

The only play I was ever involved in was when a ball was hit into the air, struck me in the head while I attempted to catch it, and bounced into the glove of my teammate. See, I told you. I was just terrible.

Despite the bribe of a post-game soda with the team, I told my parents at the ripe old age of 10 that my career in baseball was over.

"I guess I'm just not an athlete" I thought.

And with that, I said farewell to the dream of gracing the front of a Wheaties box. Sports were just not for me.

It took me almost 15 years to realize that I was actually wrong about this.

Nope, I didn't start playing Little League as a guy in my 20s. What I realized was that we are all good at some type of sport or activity. I WAS an athlete, I just needed to find the right sport.

I first stumbled upon this realization when I took up weight lifting in my mid-20s and became pretty good at it. Later when I was introduced to hiking, and found I could trek for miles, my sore ego from playing "left out" didn't hurt so much. Now as a runner, I am a fully-converted evangelist for this philosophy.

Every person has a sport or activity that they can excel at. You just need to find it!

So, the kid  who never hit a single pitch in little league (me), just ran his second trail race yesterday, the 10 mile Grand Ridge Solstice Race organized by 4th Dimension Racing.

I took the race on a day's notice, and my body was still recovering from a fast and hard 6.3 mile run from the night before. Despite this, I put one foot in front of the other and pushed through 2,000+ ft of elevation gain.

To my surprise, I not only finished the race, but captured 5th out of 28 runners! This is the first time I've ever finished a race near the top! Despite the mud and tough descents, I felt amazing at the end of the race!

While I may live my whole without hitting a pitch thrown in baseball, I'm ok with that. I'll just keep running around in the woods, smiling and having fun.

As the familiar bumper sticker reads "Real athletes run, others just play games". For me, that sounds great.

Walk to NYC – Day 2

After 18 hours and 19 minutes of walking, split over two days, I finally limped into upper Manhattan. I was tired and knew I wouldn't be able to make it to my final destination, Grand Central Terminal in time for my bus to Philadelphia. Defeated, at the 143^rd Street Station I took a #1 train downtown. Out of a 65 mile walking adventure, I failed just four miles from my destination. Shoot.

The day before, my brother and I had left from his home in Newburgh, NY in search of an adventure. Mike came up with the idea to walk to Grand Central Station, and since I’m someone who can't turn down a challenge, I took him up on his offer.

So, just like that. We strapped on our backpacks and hit the road.

Our first day of hiking ended earlier than anticipated. The June heat and distance was taking a toll on both of us. Mike seemed particularly dehydrated, so we stopped after 25 miles (out of a planned 30 for our first day). Outside of its bone-chilling (and much appreciated) air-conditioning, our motel in Peekskill was a dump. Luckily, we didn’t stay long.

Mike and I started our second and last day of the trip at the painful hour of 4:30am. As the sun rose, my feet felt strong, but I started to realize the challenge ahead. Today we needed to walk ~41 miles–farther than I’ve ever traveled on foot in a single day.

We followed along Route 9 and Route 9A, again paralleling the Hudson River as we cut further into Westchester County. Luckily, the weather was noticeably cooler than the day before, with temperatures rising into the lower 80s. A cloud cover also helped to mute the blistering sun that had scorched us yesterday.

As we continued south, the town names started rolling in faster and faster: Buchanan, Croton on Hudson, Ossining, Briarcliff Manor, Sleepy Hollow, Tarrytown, and Irvington, and on, and on.

Seeing the world through the eyes of a walker (or runner) means you see things so much more vividly than if you were speeding along in a car, or riding a bicycle.

We passed landmarks like the home of the first African-American Millionairess, Madam C.J. Walker (1867-1919) and the first golf course on the continent (1686).

As the miles rolled past us, Mike and I were making progress towards our goal of reaching Grand Central Station. Unfortunately, this was not without a toll.

My brother started to show signs of discomfort as we passed mile 40 on our trek. Finally, at Hastings on the Hudson he told me he couldn’t go any further. Mike had work the next morning and couldn’t risk further injuring a serious cut that had developed under his foot. Mike told me he was done.

“Shoot, you know what this means” I joked. “This means we’ll have to do this again together another time!”

After we deciding to try the trip again together next Thanksgiving, I hugged Mike and he got on a train headed back home.

I took a moment to rest, then continued the walk south. Now I was going it solo.

The rest of the route cut through the dense urban streets of White Plains and Yonkers. I was warned by locals about the “sketchy” areas up ahead, but guessed that my sweat-soaked clothing and disheveled hair made me the scariest looking thing around.

I just kept plodding forward. One foot in front of the next.

My walk passed high-rise projects with courtyards littered with trash, children cooling in water from open fire hydrants, and emaciated prostitutes trailing what looked to be well-fed pimps.

As I crossed over from Yonkers into Manhattan, I had hoped that I’d be magically rejuvenated. Unfortunately when the moment came, no such bolt of energy arrived. I had covered 37 miles since that morning and my feet were smashed to a bloody pulp (I didn’t have the courage to look).

Despite the pain and my sluggish pace, I continued south and made it to 143^rd street in Manhattan. It was now 6:00pm.

I had been traveling for over 12 hours today and realized that I wouldn’t be able to stumble the remaining 100+ blocks, and still make my bus to Philadelphia where my Aunt was waiting to pick me up.

I realized I would have to quit. My walking journey was over.

I took a moment to grieve my failure, then headed down into the subway.

I made it to the station in time to catch my bus. My Aunt greeted me when I rolled into Philadelphia two hours later. While I wasn’t able to finish my walking adventure, I  had a great time with my brother and got to see a lot of amazing sites along the way. Mike and I will attempt the walk again soon.

In the meantime, this experience has reemphasized for me the idea that people can find amazing adventures everywhere. I know I did.

-R4C

Totals:

• Miles Traveled: 61.84
• Time: 18h:19m (over two days)
• Calories Burned: 6,011
• Altitude Gained: 7,000+ feet

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10YNK3E826o]

Walk to NYC - Day 1

This morning at 5:30am, my brother and I started a walk (click here to learn how we got this idea) from his home in Newburgh, NY to our final destination, Grand Central Station in New York City. This is a journey of endurance and independence for us, and today proved more challenging than I expected.

Now, I've run marathons before, but this time it was just the two of us; walking unsupported, in and out of towns and counties.

It was hard.

As the temperature climbed into the upper 80s, Mike and I hiked over two mountains, through the United States Military Academy at West Point and crossed the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge.

While scenic, the steep, winding road we took saw groups of motorcycles tear past the small shoulders. Wind from the cycles threw us a breeze as we cautiously walked the white line on the road south.

Today we covered a little more than 25 miles of our 65 mile journey.

In order to avoid the hottest hours of the day, and to finish the journey tomorrow, my brother and I will need to start our trek at 4am. I'd better head to bed.

My next post will be from Grand Central Station. See you then.

-R4C

Find Adventure Anywhere

"Wait, what do you want to do?"

I was sitting outside a coffee shop in Seattle talking on the phone with my brother in upstate New York.

"What if we left my house and just walked to New York City?" suggested Mike.

I was surprised. My brother wasn't the sporty-type, but he did have amazing endurance from over a decade in the Army.

"Whoa. That's... that's like 60 miles."

Mike corrected me.

"No, actually, it'll be more like 64 or 65 ...and I want to do it in my work boots. It'll be like I just left my house on a stroll and we'll land in Grand Central Station on our second day of walking."

"So, what do you think?"

After taking a moment to figure out a route using Google Maps and searching for a town to stay in overnight, our plan was set. "Yeah, let's do it!"

So, next Saturday, June 5, my brother and I are going to start this adventure (this is a great story about another walking trip). I share this because I believe we can find adventures anywhere and for any budget.

From a running commute to work, to strolling on a local beach at daybreak, life-changing experiences are just steps from our door. Best of all, you can create these adventures for yourself, without the burden of race registrations or time trials. Just go and be awesome.

Hiking the great peaks of the world is an amazing feat, but it doesn't come without huge costs. A small fortune, tens of thousands of pounds of gear and dozens of sherpas are required to put just a single man or women on the top of a Himalaya peak.

This is an adventure, no doubt. But I believe you can find similarly amazing experiences closer to home, too. Whether you're in Seattle, L.A, Miami, or even Newburgh, NY (my hometown), a rich, active life is just around the corner.

If you too believe you can find adventure anywhere, add a story in a comment below.

As for Mike and my walk next week, I'll be sure to post photos and notes from our trek as soon as I can.

-R4C

Welcome to Lost Lake

Running a marathon is hard. Now, take those 26.2 miles and add another eight, spread the aid stations out by about nine miles, and swap the wide and smooth paths of a road race, with a single track, rooted, ankle-crushing trail. Oh, and to top it all off, you're running this race up and down Mt. Chuckanut, gaining over 8,200 feet of elevation.

What do you get? The Lost Lake 50k (really 33-34 mile), an amazing race just outside of Bellingham, Washington.

This was my first official ultra-marathon and probably the hardest thing I've done so far.

Let me back-track for a moment. I've run the distance of 50k (31.2  miles) before. On city and county roads, I've looped out and around until my watch read just over 30 miles. This was tiring, and I enjoyed a beer and a burrito when I was done, but this was no ultra-marathon. This was me just running around town.

What I learned yesterday from running the Lost Lake 50k is that this shortest of "ultra" marathons (usually set at 50k, 50 miles, 100k and 100 miles+) has less in common with the marathon, then it does with an adventure race or mountaineering expedition. What I learned is that it's an entirely different beast.

• Walking Race: Almost all the competitors walk/hike up the major mountain ascents that can pitch upward until you're crawling hand over foot.
• Self-Motivated: Almost all the race you spend by yourself or maybe with a few other runners. No cheering fans, just you finding strength to keep moving forward.
• Sightseeing can be Limited: For five, seven or twenty hours you're staring at the ground to ensure your feet don't land unevenly on a root or a rock. If you do twist your ankle, you might have to hobble miles until you get to an aid station.
• Distance only Kinda Matters: Yes, 50k is far, but distance isn't your problem. What you need to worry about are stream crossings, rationing food and water properly, mountain scrabbling and accidentally wandering off the course.

I'll write a full review of this race another day, but I did want to share one observation. The Lost Lake 50k had a few hundred competitors, with many women and men not fitting the traditional sterotype of an ultra-marathoner (you know, wearing a Red Bull t-shirt, over-using the phrase gnarly).

Lost Lake 50k Finish

I met a woman in her 40s that would easily fit in walking her dog at Greenlake (just before her knitting club), a man in his late 50s who looked more like a cheerful grandfather, than one of the top competitors, a pet control business owner and a military maintenance civilian. This list of unique personalities goes on, and on.

It was inspiring to learn the stories of so many people who the traditional athletic stereotype might have overlooking. No mountain dew, heavy metal music or fawning fans. Just guts, without glory.

These are a few insights into my first official 50k. Feel free to add a comment if you have any ultra-marathon suggestions or inspirations.

-R4C

My Big Clothes

I'm going to talk about how to donate your "big clothes" to charity.

Running burns calories like few other sports. While the stats are dependent on a number of factors including a runner's weight, speed and altitude, here is a basic formula. Take your weight and multiple it by .75 in pounds to find out how many calories you burn each and every mile (thanks, Runner's World).

So if you're a 170lb runner, you burn about 127 calories a mile. Multiple that for a pre-Marathon 5-mile training run, and you're burning over 600 calories on each of your training runs for the big race. Wow! This means if you're currently wearing your "Big Clothes", keep your routine up and pretty soon you'll be sizing down and getting race-ready. So you have a little context, each pound of fat has about 3,500 calories.

Let me tell you my story.

A few years ago (before I was a runner),  I had ballooned up to 209lbs on my 5'11'' frame. I didn't have much muscle to blame it on. I was just well, overweight. I was wearing my "big clothes". My size large shirts were pulling at the sides when I tried to tuck them in. My 36'' jeans felt uncomfortable as I sucked in to button up. I wasn't obese, but I knew I needed to lose weight. Luckily, two things happened that dramatically changed my figure.

1. Life Event First, I had to have double jaw surgery to address chronic pain that I had been suffering from for years. As part of the recovery I had to limit my diet to liquid-only foods. Despite my best attempt to keep my calories up (milk shakes, fruit and protein mixes), my weight started to drop into the sub-200 lb range within a few weeks. This, combined with making smarter food choices, started me on my path towards my prime weight.
2. Running What really made the difference for me, and took a temporary drop in weight and made it permanent, was running. I talk about how I "discovered" running in this post, but basically just fell into it as I healed from jaw surgery. By slowly increasing the distance and frequency of runs, I started to make a major dent in my weight. First losing five pounds... ten pounds... and later twenty pounds. I was finally moving closer to my target weight and was the fittest I'd been in over a decade.

Donating my Big Clothes

How did I celebrate? I went through my closet and drawers, and pulled out my "big clothes", the same shirts, shorts and pants that were pulling at my frame just a year before.. After I had a sizable pile, I delivered the clothes to a local Goodwill. On the same trip I even picked up a few new shirts and shorts as I felt proud to wear sizes I hadn't fit into in years.

If you are struggling with your weight, I hope you can find a path towards your target weight and eventually, to getting rid of your "big clothes".

Run Therapy

Everyone talks about the runner's high, the feeling of euphoria as the Pituitary Gland releases Endorphins into your blood stream during exercise, dangerous situations and well, sex. As a runner, this feeling can be particularly intense when cresting a hill on a strenuous route or when pushing your body to make a new personal record (PR). Either way, a runner's high is almost always a wonderful feeling. Well, in this post I'd like to talk about the opposite emotion: the utter pit of despair that is "runner's low".

Burke Gilman Trail

Runner's Low is something we all experience; athletes and non-athletes alike. It's the feeling that you had a bad day. You were just injured in training. Your cat bit you. You crashed your car. Your boss is giving you trouble at work. As my favorite childhood book reads, you're having a "terrible horrible no good very bad day". Things pile up and you just feel... low.

Well, a few weeks ago I was experiencing my own "runner's low". I won't get into the details, but it involved losing touch with someone who was once a good friend. Driving home, a heavy stone sat in my stomach, a sour taste coated my mouth and my body was sapped of energy. I'd normally call a friend, but it was late, and my family's on the east coast, three hours further into the night. I walked into my house and dropped my bag by the door.

I was exhausted and frustrated.

I didn't know what to do... so, I ran.

As soon as I started lacing on my sneakers, the grief that I was experiencing started to cede; replaced instead by a calm. While I couldn't control the craziness of the day or the disappointment from hours earlier, I could control this moment. I could run.

And so, I bounded out my door and began my normal loop, cutting through the park, and down around the lake. The night was especially dark. When I was about to turn back toward my house, I felt a moment of inspiration and decided to go farther into the night.  It was past 10:30pm now, but I was feeling inspired and plotted a way down to the Burke Gilman trail.

I didn't know where I was going, but the sense of autonomy was exhilarating. That night I ran 15 miles in the darkness, eventually looping back to my home up north. By the time I got to bed, I felt better about the day. This run was exactly what I needed.

That was run therapy.

Running is its own unique therapy. While it won't replace guidance from a professional, it can help balance you in a way few other things can. Running at a strenuous pace is, well, just really hard.Your chest is heaving, your muscles are straining and you really just can't worry about test scores or promotions, heartbreak or hairlines.

You can only worry about being present, and in the moment.

So the next time you're feeling the "runner's low", try to head out for a jog. Just put one foot in front of the other.

Brighter moments are ahead.

Choose Terrible

Running is a difficult activity for almost everyone. However, when planning your next fitness run or when training for a race, you might want to try something to make things a event harder. Challenge yourself by picking the worse of two routes.

Sounds odd?

Choose Terribly - Street Photo

Consider this. You get up early in the morning, lace on your sneakers andneed to pick your route. You have the choice of running the same, comfortable course you've done a hundred times before. This is the flat loop that conveniently is right by your house and brings you past your usual landmarks, or as an alternative, you could pick that scary hill by the arterial road that you've driven past, but never attempted. What should you do?

My suggestion is, choose terribly and go with the hill.

This is what I recently did on a run in North Seattle. You see, I have this favorite 6.5 mile loop I do down around Greenlake on side streets and park trails. The course winds past beautiful craftsman homes and fragrant lilac bushes.  There is little traffic, gorgeous sights, and while I have to tackle a few small hills, everything is gradual and easy to ascend.

Something caught my eye recently while driving around town on random errands.  I've taken this arterial road in North Seattle that quickly dips down a few hundred feet, then climbs upward as the road wraps south towards Ballard. I was always intrigued by the sight of this road--climbing into the sky. However I never thought of running next to it because of the heavy car traffic, and well, the difficulty of the course. Frankly, nothing about this stretch of road is appealing for a runner.

And yet, last week I chose to run it.

The reason I chose to try this route is solely because it WAS unappealing. By charging up the hill and by enduring the honks and traffic, I'm becoming a more flexible runner. I'm learning how to deal with a tough pickle.

So, why should you choose terrible?

By challenging yourself today, you're becoming a better runner for tomorrow. So, when the weather turns and it starts pouring on your first 5k race, or your 20thmarathon, you'll be able to get past the discomfort, traffic or environment and complete your running goal.

Have you recently run a strenuous or mentally challenging route? Add a comment below and tell others how it has impacted you.

Just remember to always be safe. And when you've tackled that tricky route successful, be sure to treat yourself to ice cream or something else special.

Nipples, Nails and Everything Gross

"It's pretty bad...are you sure?"

I carefully pealed off the bandage and showed Holly my toe, exposing the place where my second largest toenail should have been.

"Wow, that... that just looks terrible" she said.

Holly was right. The toe, missing its nail, looked downright horrible--like an alien amongst four other normal brothers.

The toenail was destroyed on a recent trail race. The downhills had propelled my second longest toe into the front of my shoe. Stomp after stomp, the repeated blows crushed the nail into oblivion.

When I got home I discovered the damage and finished removing the nail. Yikes!

Luckily, and surprisingly, I had no pain. I just cleaned up my toe, smeared on some antibiotic cream, and covered the injured little piggie with a band-aid (and my toes were once so pretty. Oh well, C'est la vie).

I mentioning this to a few veteran runners and it turns out that this isn't that uncommon, especially if you have any toes (like mine) that are longer than your big one.

Below are a few tips I learned from caring for my missing toenails, so hopefully you won't have to encounter this gross side-effect of running too often.

While I'm at it, I might as well cover other gross stuff that comes up for runners.

So... if you're not easily grossed out, and haven't already bolted for another blog, read on...

Toe / Toenail Protection

What causes you to lose a toenail from running? It depends on a lot of things including how much you run, what type of running you do (flat/hills/trails) and your foot anatomy. You might be one of the lucky ones and never lose a toenail due to running. But for many, it's kinda just part of life, particularly if you're running longer distances and doing lots of steep trail work.

A few things can help mitigate this.

• First, make sure the mid-part of your shoes laces are tight enough to keep your foot seated in rear of the shoe. This reduces the likelihood that your toes crash into the front of your sneaker.
• Make sure you have the right shoe size. Some runners will run in a shoe that is a half or full size larger just to ensure their toes don't impact the front of the sneaker.
• Lastly, trim and care for your nails before you head to the track or trail. By keeping things trimmed, you'll be less likely to damage them on your next steep descent.

Skin Irritation

Sometimes on longer runs its the little things that get you. Your quads don't give out on you. Rather, you're defeated by the collar on your shirt rubbing your neck.  Over 10...20...or 30 miles the innocent looking shirt you put on transforms into an unrelenting menace.

By making sure your clothing doesn't move excessively and rub your neck, back or armpits, you can avoid a lot of discomfort. Don't test a new shirt fabric or shirt cut on your longer runs. Go instead with an old faithful.

Also helpful are skin anti-chafe balms like Body Glide. These types of balms, coupled with technical running shorts (the type with the underwear built in) can also help with fend off chafing on the inner thigh (luckily, no photos for this one).

blood on shirt

Chest Area (for men and women)

Yes, I'm talking about nipples. The  simple motion of a technical shirt (with sleeves) shifting back and forth across a man's nipples can draw blood and cripple even the strongest runner. I've seen runners finish marathons with streams of red covering the fronts of their technical shirts.

Not a fun sight to see and probably an even worse feeling to experience. Luckily, this can be avoided. I run almost exclusively in sleeveless shirts or singlets. This is because without sleeves, the shirt is less mobile on your chest. When you swing your arms, your shirt stays put.

Male runners who prefer to stay with sleeves can also cover their nipples with duct or medical tape, or for shorter runs (say, under 10 miles) can use vaseline to protect themselves.

What should women do?

Mo, a female runner recently told me that ladies should invest in a quality sports bra to help protect themselves. "Never go out without it. A quality bra offers great protection and support."

Sounds like great advice.