Running for Mutton

It's been awhile since my last confession folks, but that's not my fault. For some reason the Chinese government feels that blogger.com, among others, such as Facebook, are a threat to national security and therefore I haven't been able to share my adventure with you. I'm in the very liberal, and cosmopolitan, capital of Mongolia, Ulaan Bataar, where blogging is allowed. Mind you, so is urinating in public and eating blow-torched marmot (it was pretty good, actually).
We arrived in Mongolia about 10 days ago and immediately headed out for some back country-yert adventure. The landscape here is phenomenal. There are very few trails of any kind, but for miles and miles you can run through open fields, over grassy mountains, and into larch-filled forests. It really is the trail runners dream. On the first day of the journey I became quite sick and couldn't really run too long, but as any addicted runner would do, I ran anyway...short though. With lungs full of goo and a nose full of snot I pushed through a run\walk above a 400 year old monastery in the middle of nowhere. The views were outstanding and the meal of mutton and potatoes that followed was fantastic.

It was a couple a days of driving and rest before arriving at Lake Khovsgol, just south of the Russian border, where I got my next run. The rest of my group had gone horesback riding and I did what I love most. RAN.

From there we had our longest driving day, but to the most perfect running location I've ever seen. We dropped a tent in the middle of a wide open field without a soul in sight. As the sun set I plotted a route up a steep ridge line and across the top of three peaks, and then back down the next gully. At 7 o'clock I woke up and set off through the grass and up a rocky ridgeline. The field was so big I had no idea it would take me 15 minutes just to reach the base of the gulley. I pushed up the hill slowly and when I hit the peak the view into the next valley was spectacular. I sat for a bit and waited for Lara to catch up and we ran across the three peaks. It was exactly what I had pictured running in Mongolia to be. If you look closely in the picture to the right you can see my tiny black Salomon jersey cruising down from the crest of the hill top.

We've just arrived back in Ulaan Bataar and I can guarantee you I won't be doing any running here. It's not really a runners city. There's no Seawall if you're wondering. It's mostly garbage, dirt, and pollution. Surrounded by mountains so maybe I'll do a day trip before leaving on Saturday.

I should be a touch out fo shape for my return, but I'm definitely planning to run the Whistler 5 peaks. Anyone else interested? Check it out: 5 peaks.

Among the Bamboo

Since my last post I have come a long way overland and made every effort possible to fly through the bamboo. Unfortunately, the bamboo was for running beneath, around, under, and through, but not for flying in. My dreams of being the Crouching Tiger may have to wait for China.
In my search since Fukuoka, I have run through busy city streets, along water ways, through old growth forests, and best of all, up mountains covered with temples. Literally covered in temples. The pathways meandered up steep rock staircases, in some cases between thousands of Torii. These are the orange arch ways, and they have something to do with safe passage. The entire country must be covered in a huge Torii, because I have felt nothing but safety, even on my 530 am runs through the streets and into the mountains.

Kyoto was the best for running, as I suspected. I ran about a 5 k run up over a mountain top, or big hill really, to a tiny village. After trying to rip the tail off of a newt, I turned around and ran 5 k back. My arrival back in Kurama meant a visit to the local onsen. It was my first visit to a public bath house, so I was nervous about ripping off my clothes and exposing my manhood to the Japanese community. Turns out they did not care and I could not have enjoyed a fresh hot spring bath anymore. What a terrific way to end a run.

This morning I awoke to a run in the blasting heat of Tokyo as I did a bit of a work out along the Sumida river. There were not many other runners, but the homeless folk were certainly entertained by my sweaty legs and forehead.

We are off to Beijing tomorrow and then Mongolia for early next week. The train is about a 30 hour ride so I guess there will be some time without a run. I think I can handle it.

Rubber, Rubber, and...Rubber

Interesting title, I know, but it kinda` fits with the journey I am on. No, it`s not a spiritual journey! Don`t be scared off. As some of you know, I am traveling in Japan, China, and Mongolia. Some of the concerns I had before departing were, where can I run? Will it be sufficient? and what if rabid, stray dogs and cats chase me? Put your mind at ease my friends. I am fine and the running has been better than I might have hoped for.

Japan has been an incredible place to enjoy a run even though it was 37 C upon arrival. A short flight to Okinawa and a ferry ride to Kume Jima brought me to my first run. It began at 7:30 am on the road and ended up in sugar cane fields. It`s amazing when you run in a new place, how you tend to forget about the time and any aches or pains. You just run.

Lara ran with me and we ended up on a gorgeous beach covered in hexagonal rock structures. It was so early, there wasn`t another soul to be seen.

Some dolphins followed our ferry back to Naha, the main island of Okinawa, where Mr. Miyagi is from, and where I had my next bout of running. It was 6:30 in the morning and I trotted through the streets, stopping at various vending machines to suck back enough water. After a 15 minute warm up I found myself running along a rubberized canal track...and it was marked in meters for people doing interval stuff. The pathway was packed. I had to dodge people at 6:45 in the morning. Who knew? Miles and miles of rubberized, marked track. It was perfect. Then in Fukuoka, on Kyushu, I found an entire lake surrounded with the stuff, so I definitely had to go out again for a morning run. It was a little slippery this time, but what a forgiving surface to try out barefoot running.

Put your hand up if you`ve ever heard of Vibram Five Fingers. Until I started my most recent book I hadn`t either. It`s essentially a sock with toes and rubberized soles. It was invented for sailors who spent a lot of time on deck. A long story short, I am recommending that every runner, or potential runner, read this book: Born to Run, by Christopher McDougall. I mean it....this thing is a MUST read. It totally clarifies so many things, that so many people have instinctively felt for so long. Why we hate roads, why so many of us run with injuries and some of us don`t, and why little kids are such awesome runners (especially in barefeet - I mean seriously, what`s faster than barefeet?). This book was recommended to me by recent sub-24 hour Western States belt buckle recipient, Gary Robbins. He said he couldn`t put it down and I wondered if I could read it. Of course I was able to read it, but without pictures I wasn`t sure I could do it. By the way, incredible job at Western, Gary. Hope you`ll go back for more next year. Also, we`re still waiting for a race report. Dad Shmad...get on it.

This trip has brought us to the main island of Honshu, through Fukuoka, Hiroshima, and now Osaka. Tomorrow afternoon we`ll be in Kyoto, where I am told I`ll be able to trail run again. Although the health conscious Japanese love there rubberized urban trails, I`m itching to get onto some dirt and let the XT Wings do their job in the bamboo forest. I`m picturing something from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Maybe the wings are all I need to fly high in the bamboo.

Cardiac Classic

Knee, elbow, hip, shoulder, and head...almost. In no specific order, those are the body parts that were intimate, and interactive, with the Gear Jammer trail, up on Burnaby Mountain, this past Sunday during the Cardiac Classic, put on by West Coast Racing. Other than nearly smashing my head open on the slick downhill, they put on an amazing show. It went so well and everyone had a great time.

This was a three lap course for my category, Citizen Male 30+, and I expected it to take about 1:30. When I arrived at the start line for 9:00 am I heard the commisaire taking attendance. I thought it highly unusual, but rose my hand and said "present" at the appropriate moment. After a quiet "go!" we started up the powerline trail to be spread out before Mel's, an almost certain hike-a-bike. On a good day it might be rideable, but not with a pack of other riders after a new fallen rain. Not for this rider anyway. The climb and flank across to Gear Jammer was challenging, but was certainly the factor that spread us out the most. Heading into Gear Jammer I was possessed. My huge grin carried me down two, then three switchbacks. On the fourth I took a hard dirt nap, and was pretty rattled. The riders around me were so good about checking on me, and helping me up. I probably need a new helmet, but so the story goes.

I continue downhill on to lower snake and I was a bit timid, can't imagine why, but managing to hold my spot before being spit back out on to the powerline trail to climb back up to the start. At least I thought that was where I was going. A right hand turn led me into another fast and flowy downhill and I was renewed. The speed and flow of that section got me jacked up again before climbing to the feed zone and heading into Dead Moped to finish the first lap.

Subsequent laps were similar, other than a humorous tumble on the third. I ended up laying in the bushes laughing after sliding from a bridge. I came out with branches and green foliage stuck to me. I told the course marshal it was for camouflage. I didn't want other racers to see me coming.

It took me 1:20 and I felt great. I'll definitely do this race again. So many great volunteers, including myself and Mr. Duncan Coo, of the the Flight Crew, tons of prizes, heaps of sponsors, a brilliant location, and two amazing race directors. Great job Matt and Mike!

Following the race I told race director, Mike Tunnah, that I'd love to see this race done as a 6 hour enduro next year. I'll be the first guy to sign up.

Test of Metal 2009

This past weekend I answered my own question, "does running training transfer over into cycling training?" The short answer is yes, but the long answer is with pain. I managed to ride the Test of Metal course five minutes faster than last year, but it wasn't a pretty 3 hours and 31 minutes.

In past races I had gone out at a manageable pace, but this time I told myself I would go out hard. Apparently everyone else had the same idea. The pace was blistering and by the time I hit Alice Lake I was thinking about dropping out and doing some fun day-riding. My legs were just barely functioning and certainly lactic as I rode by Credit Line and I couldn't help thinking that would be a lot more fun. It wasn't long after that however, that I started to feel a bit better. Jack's trail was super buff and the flow on the trail was such that I was able to spin out some of the crap. I was thankful to be stuck in behind a speedy rider, and good friend, Karen Todd. And just three riders ahead of her was my arch nemesis, Duncan Coo. With my lack of mountain bike training this year, I figured Duncan finally had me beat. As Alice Lake spit us out onto Bob Macintosh Trail, Karen sped off and Duncan and I "yo yo'd" back and forth until the bottom of 9 mile hill. The lead up to 9 mile was meant to be super fast and flowy, but the trails were busy and clogged. Rob's and Cliff's corners and Roller Coaster were tight and slow. One rider was blaming the road riders. He said they were fast on the road and then faking it on the dirt. I laughed. I guess it made sense.
Going through the feed zone the first time was great. My feed boy, Mike Tunnah, stood in the middle of the road in his bright green West Coast Racing jersey, screaming. He had two bottles, one of them was not mine, and that's when I knew Duncan was still right behind me.
On our ride out to 9 mile we had a quick complaint session about the slow down Roller Coaster and then we settled into 45 minutes of pain. Once again, I left Duncan behind, but knew he was there. With those quads, he's always there, like Chuck Norris. Just before 9 mile bridge I caught up with Karen again, but was too tired to talk. I geared up for my ascent of Lava Flow Hill, passing ten other riders. I knew what was coming. The Rip! Thanks to the Test of Metal crew, the Rip had been raked and was incredibly fast. Before I knew it I was into the legendary Powerhouse Plunge. My body was really starting to hurt and I immediately had the "stupids" as I entered this trail. Managing to ride it all was surprising, but it wasn't pretty. All the while I kept reminding myself to spin as much as possible. I was certain I was going to cramp on my second pass through the Powerhouse feed zone.
Again, there was Mike screaming in the middle of the road, but this time he only had one bottle. I silently cheered as Mike pushed me up the hill and around the corner. Before entering Crumpit Woods I guzzled down the entire bottle of Nuun and just in time for a wicked awesome quad cramp. I muscled my way through the cramp and pretty much all of Crumpit Woods to meet a head wind on Plateau Drive. The end was near and I was going for it. Unfortunately my legs weren't going for it with me. Something was heavy and slow. I thought nothing of it and finished the race in 3:31.
I milled around for awhile to eat, see friends finish, and most importantly, cheer on Lara. She came across the line in 4:48 and was that person with the pumping arm and the ginormous grin. It was pretty cool.
After lounging on the grass, eating a sausage plate, and hearing of everybody's day, I retrieved my Yeti from the bike check to see a flat tire. I think I know why the last bit of the race was so tough.
It was a perfect day out there. The trails were tacky and buff and everyone I know set a personal best. Congratulations everyone. Next year I might ride my bike a few more times before the race. Running is great, but some of my muscles were definitely not prepared.

The Cougars of Squamish

Recently Squamish has really seen it's share of cougars. Yesterday a small female "mauled" a three year old in the Brackendale area, and was subsequently shot. I love that word "mauled". I'm sure it wasn't a good time for the little girl, but the news makes a couple scratches sound like death. Anyway, then on Saturday another was shot. Not sure why so many are down low, but many a trail tale, especially Test of Metal trail riders, are all about cougar sitings recently. There was even a trap set up at the entrance to Crumpit Woods. I don't think they caught anything, but the cage has been removed.The most recent story I've seen is this video below. The story kind of speaks for itself, but what I can't figure out is why would reasonably prudent people mill around to film a huge carnivore. That thing could mess you up. Isn't it generally recommended that you try to look large and back away slowly? They sound British, maybe they're not reasonably prudent. Anyway, check it out.

I'd like to tell you that no cougars were harmed for the filming of this video, but I heard that particular cougar was the one that was shot Saturday. That sucks. It's a pretty cool animal.
I hope the only cougars I see at this weekends Test of Metal are at the finish line serving cold beverages.

Two Owls and a Pair o' Red Shoes

I hesitate to write this blog too close to the last, but this is too good not to tell and I've been waiting. Last Thursday I headed out into the trails to get in a last run before the 5 Peaks race - you know, just flush out the junk and turn over a couple times. It was supposed to be a half hour run, but it became a half hour sight seeing adventure.

As I entered the trailhead (above) and across Hastings Creek (Lynnmour area) I noticed something move in the tree beside me. An owl! Two of them (Hooters, Gary). And how fortunate, I had my camera with me. They didn't seem to give two hoots about me so I hung around for awhile. A long while. I'm standing there in my bright red S-Labs and I'm not running. If you've seen these shoes you'd know I should've been running...or break dancing. Anyway, I watched the owls for 30 minutes, got back in my car, and didn't run at all. And it didn't matter.

Sorry about the bad "two hoots" joke. It was there so I had to.