Posts

Showing posts from 2014

The 2015 SKT Trail Running Movie

Image
Metaphor of my heroic struggle. Santa Barbara, Feb 1980. Film makers will shit a brick and die when they learn about the 2015 SKT Trail Running Movie . Its a documentary about me, dammit. Yes, my heroic metaphoric struggle for world dominance—at the 2015 Sean O’Brien 50 —pushing a shopping cart. With a thundering musical soundtrack too. Maybe with a stray dog at a dark finish line. You'll see me: ...looking at the camera   ... recounting a teachable moment   ... digging deep, hiking the vert, busting the gnar, running my own race   ... cracking manly jokes   ... flirting w Aid-station hotties who are wearing balconette pushup halter-tops and 4” Maximum Drop CMFMs. And it's pouring rain. Don't ask why . ... bagging on elite dewds, etc for being over- talented, skinny punks Cutaways to random various girlfriends looking regretful. Diversity alert: Mexican girls commenting casually in Spanish, no subtitles. Mariachi music. Aid station convoy entourage, with r

SKT Mastery at the SJT50k

Image
Latest addition to the Book of Ultra-Numbers. I raised SKT Mastery to whole new depths at Saturday's San Juan Trail 50k, finishing 14min after finish cutoff. This is a career first. Back at the campsite, I got out the matches and built a fire. ‪#‎SlowAndShit‬   First time for everything. I was playing it pretty conservative for the first 20mi. Figured I could hit the last 11 in 3 hrs. Wrong-O. Stride tightened up, trail got a lot more technical up to, then down Holy Jim, then up Horse Thief to the Divide Road. It wasn't until the last 2 miles off the top did I remember something Andy Roth had told me [letting hips relax, rolling into the stride] that I was able to open it up. But then it was too late. When I crossed the finish line, I joked with RD Baz Hawley that it was only 23 years earlier, I'd done the late San Juan Trail 50-Mile. "And you're just now finishing!" Remember the hunters? they weren't looking for deer...they were looking for s

The Three Dimensions Of Shade

Image
Beef chili in Saltillo ware, with wine-on-ice in stainless. Prompted by remembering the long camera-takes of Lee Van Cleef in "Good, Bad & Ugly". "A man alone with his thoughts lives in a crowded house" —Don Juan Castaneda, "Conversations With Maestro Sevende Sandia" There is no cell reception in the San Gabriels. I was unwired for three days. $36, cost of a campsite at Chilao. But I'll charge hipsters $450 ea for the weekend, then taser them when they try to Instagram. And all greasy stains at the picnic tables are really bitter tears from the butt-hurt.  The Three Dimensions of Shade The Three Dimensions Of Shade The San Gabriel sun is merciless. You've either found shade, or made your own. I've opted for making it. I have a love-affair with 1" EMT pipe canopies . They beat crappy pop-ups cold. But you won't know this until your pop-up gets gusted into a gully, breaks its back, and you're left with

Nine Trails Of Vert

Image
FIRST, A COMFORTING BROMIDE Best way to recognition and applause in ultras is to finish last. All the people who weren’t there at the beginning will be thrilled to see you—because you didn’t wander off the course while jabbering into your smartphone and so on. But I get ahead of myself. SPOILER ALERT: NEW MATH Take note of the following numbers. 9 + (5 + 3) x 2. Not written totally correctly? Too bad. Santa Barbara Nine Trails ; thirty-five miles of asskicking vert. Luis Escobar, RD, now hosts this classic race, the gold standard in ass-kicking since 1990. Anybody who sneeringly references “California Carpet Trails” is welcome to try this race on for size. It climbs and plunges in the mountains above Santa Barbara. Technical out the ass; in both sunny and shady varieties. The smooth sections are on the various sections of Edison roads. They pitch up and down too. No character-debilitating shade here either; its photon-fury at its best. Wear that black t-shirt and be prepar

Rocks Off On Mt Williamson

Image
Puzzling Evidence of priapic symmetry. Recently there have been reports of nubile young women, dewy ultrarunner wannabes, inexplicably lured off the Pacific Crest Trail from either direction. Perhaps they were getting lost, in the finest Chet Baker tradition. The Judgmental Brothers had discovered enigmatically puzzling land formations on top of Mt Williamson. Ritual observance? Fetish object? Geo-directional ley-line indicator? Was this directional art for aliens? Or merely the lithic whoopie-cushion for pre-contact indigenous peoples? Palmdale to the north. Sculpture points west, albeit foreshortened, enhancing its girthy aspect. Descending the peak, view to the southwest. Each expedition member was left with their own sobering thoughts as to the origin and purpose of these enigmatic land sculptures, far from the sight and purview of commentators and critics.

Leader Fails

Image
Its mother loved it too. Some of you are doing, or leading training runs on the AC100 course. Here's a checklist to avoid disaster: LEADERS If you're leading a group, then its YOUR responsibility to make sure you've covered all the details. EVERYBODY STARTS/EVERYBODY FINISHES. how many know the route? How many newbies? Pair up experienced w/ newbies.   It's gonna take more time than you think. If somebody has a critical appointment back in town, they'll be late. Guaranteed. EVERYBODY ELSE Know where you're going. Get the map—the RaceBook is full of them. Study it. That's why its there. Take care of business. Proper dress/proper gear. Just because some Internet Kid Jesus runs with a garter belt and a squirt gun does not make it right for you how much fluids/electrolytes are you carrying? Are there any water drops on the way? Do you know where they are? how many are in the group? You'd be surprised how fast you forget. RUNNERS: The gr

Hyena Three-Day 100

Image
Bialetti Sexto, Saltillo ware, flatware in vintage Swiss Army tool-roll. Chilao Campground, July 4 2014 The best way to preview the Angeles Crest 100 course is the Three-Day 100. It would break out as a notional 40/35/25. This is the best way to get a real sense of what the course is. Its formidable, unrelenting, and demands your complete attention. I’d done it back in ’96, and it gave me a realistic view of what was needed on Race Day.   Of course, Geoff fucking killed it. Now I'm busy writing my self-congratulatory memoirs with the aid of gin and bitters to take the bad taste out of my mouth. But I'm getting ahead of myself. THE SET UP We began putting together the Hyena Three Day 100 an d invited a short list of friends. The short list is to maximize your effort, minimize drag, avoid chickenshit when other people's agendas start clogging up your day. The base camp would be at the Chilao Campgrounds up in the San Gabriels to minimize driving chores. “If

Adventures In Doctor Land

Image
A Prescription Course In Miracles requires proper offerings to assure a good outcome. Adventures In Doctor Land During my last physical, t he doctor unwittingly revealed a voodoo truth in the American psyche: the cure for death is always five years away from today. Tomorrow, it will be repeated all over again. In other words, don't do anything out of the ordinary, and you'll live forever.  I had no idea how much fun it was going to be.  It started with the Self-Assessment Form in the lobby. Sample questions included 'Are you/have you':  …smoke? …own a gun? …drink? how much? …are you beaten by your partner? …take drugs …unprotected sex? OK fine. I checked all that applied. Shortly I was called in, and was met by Sonia, a cute Latina. She was reading off the list doing follow-up, which were curve-balls. Since I was at bat, I gave it my all. Did you smoke? Hell yeah. Years ago. If it burned, I inhaled. Are you joking? Drugs? A very long time

AC100: The First Is The Last

Image
Pre-training run espresso, Islip Saddle, June 21 2014. Wrightwood: Mile Zero When Uncle Hal was finished doing the Saturday pre-training run advisories, he said “Larry’s gonna be sweeping, got anything to add?” “Yes I do. If I catch up to you, then your training sucks” Nervous gusts of laughing followed. As it should be. The herd is being thinned. There are runners who are not prepared, coasting on some kind of delusional fumes. If you haven’t learned that showing up without a real cap, wearing dark clothing, eating crap food and carrying insufficient fluids are not sustainable methods for surviving the early summer heat, you’ve got problems. Insufficient mileage? Got injuries you're not letting heal? That too. The main pack thundered off into the distance. I’m left with my own unspooling colorful adventure; the business of getting back into shape. And the Acorn Trail pitches straight up for the next two miles up to the PCT. The last five weeks have been exercises in rec

AC100 Last 26 Miles

Image
This is a mile off the race course on Mt Williamson 50 miles back, but it's important. The Last 26 Miles This section is a lover who’ll rake your back, fuck you so hard that you’d stay fucked, then ignore your calls. A standout in a Race that’s pretty much the same way. Its harsh, demanding, and indifferent to your esthetic preferences. You learn to love it on its own terms. Getting nervous? Wonderful. You’re looking at a legacy original mountain hundred, not a “backyard cheese-ball loop 100”, as Luis Escobar so eloquently described it. Spoiler alert I got my ass kicked. Its become the pattern for the summer: race , ass-kick recovery run . Minutes after the start from Chantry Flats, I’m practically by myself, Jeanne is seeing this part of the course for the first time. Now I get to find out how much I really remember of the course. The ribbons start coming down. Today, we’re lucky. Uncle Hal and friends are hosting an aid station at the 94 mile mark, 18 on today’s outin

2014 Giants In The Shadows

Image
LG prior to Shadow of the Giants 50k with Magic Race Number. The lesser the accomplishment the bigger the picture. Action-selfie by Geoff Cordner. Don't hold it against him. Everything you’ve read about this race* is true. Now its up to me to provide lies and embellishments. Baz Hawley kept us waiting around prior to yelling “FUCK OFF” to start the race. In time-honoured fashion he regaled us with details about his latest medical procedures, presumably his Acute Mangina. He's retired more times than Cher, but nevermind. The assembled multitudes were busy busting out selfies, whiling away the boxcar waiting and nervous walking typical of these events. The moment the race started, all the real talent ran away. Guys: this means you’re not taking enough time doing What Needs To Be Done. Ladies: this is where the fun starts—Barry White and Suntan Oil. We all know where it goes from here. I did what I do best: boring the living shit out of runners unlucky enough who didn’t get

27 Mile AC100 Beatdown

Image
The Scenic Mound between Kratka and Eagle's Roost. [Mon, May 26, 2014] This morning my brain is mud. I slept in til 7. Overall I had a good, tough day yesterday. My job was to sweep the course of marker surveyor ribbons put up by the training run front-runner. I’m so slow right now its the only honorable way to participate. Pre-start pix were taken, but I declined to be in. Its the runner’s show, not mine. Yesterday's 27 mile Islip to Chilao AC100 training run was held under optimal conditions. That's not a typo. Weather was generally mild, there was generous aid from dedicated volunteers. God bless all of you. And it still kicked unholy ass. Wait until it really gets hot. The first-timers, accompanied by veterans, experienced a very challenging section of the course that is always overshadowed by Mt Wilson and other glamor-betties. They are the wise ones who got to feel the lay of the land and the route that is beyond the grasp of a GPS or any other app. For all

2014 Born To Run 50k

Image
The acid still hadn't worn off. Completely fried after Born To Run 50k, first event in nearly 21 months. Photo by Nancy Kaplan. Taken along side Hwy 154 N of San Marcos Pass, Santa Barbara Co, CA. May 18 2014   The first 10 miles were young love-- it was all so fresh and new. I thought I'd met my soulmate, no thoughts of previous lovers. The 2nd ten miles were inspirationally hard, and so much dialog and learning, but we got thru it, our love crushing and dominating.   As I finished, I became an impromptu celebrity based on my quiet mastery of SKT Method. I was cheered on as an inspirational meme by lawn chairs. Jumper cables were stowed away, the SAR team was told to take a hike. The final 11 miles were bitter and judgemental. The harsh light of day revealed that we had nothing to say, because it was all about you. And I blame you. Literally. And shit. RD Luis Escobar, pre-race trail briefing. Or perhaps you weren't paying attention. Born to Run ultra

G8R Boi

Image
A BRIEF FORWARD , by Dr Erasmus Binkster Canada has given the United States many things. That's because Canadians are naturally generous. For instance: Peter Jennings, Dan Aykroyd, Celine Dion, Wayne Gretzky, France Jolie. And Canadians are so generous, they only want Wayne Gretzky back. We can keep the rest. Including Avril Lavigne.   Avril wrote a song, nay, epic poetry that speaks to the fragrant heart of ultrarunning. No kidding. Here it is. I'm sure you may see yourselve[s] in this dainty ballad.   PS All of you out there with 15 year old daughters can skip the pop-quiz at the end. G8R Boi [with insincere apologies to Avril Lavigne] He was a trail-boy, she was, like, a 10k girl   Can I, like, make it any more obvious?   He was a trail punk, she did road 10ks   Like, What more can I say?   He'd like to do her, she'd never tell,  secretly she wanted his trail-jerky self as well.   But all of her friends hiked up their tights   They had a problem with his Petzl