No more beard. Sad face emoticon, but a super versatile V
To kick off this latest entry I have a comical story for you. A sophisticated suicide attempt, if you will. Some may call it September Stride 5k. Last Saturday, September 27th, was the only local money race that I have never participated in. Josh is still coming back from his injury, Adam had a half marathon in his home state of Indiana (it's like this whole other state), and the rest of the runners in town that are currently faster than me were occupied with other things. Adam has no photo evidence that he was in his race, so I'll just have to take his word when he says he went 1:10 behind three Africans. That's all any of us can do. A few days before September Stride I was hanging out with Schiffy and we decided to run Sept Stride to make a little money. The way I saw it- I have run much harder without making any money. This 5k was the closest thing to the Unprepared Mile that we all did a few months back. I took the same approach to this race as I did in that mile. I wasn't too concerned about the likely pay off. When I am out of shape, which is the nice way to describe my fitness currently, I usually try to punish myself as much as possible. What's the fastest time I could have run? Irrelevant. Very slow. So I just wanted to see how hard I could take it out and I tried to kill myself. For the amusement of my friends watching on and for my personal fix of a terribly addictive pain. The first 800 was 2:18, if it was just an 800m race I may have been able to go 2:15 so I was giving her what I had. 5:13, the picture above was shortly after said mile, 5:14 2nd mile, then 5:40 climbing up the last mile. Schiff and guy passed me at the same time and he had a laugh after the race because when they passed me I just said- Yep. For anyone who has run out of gas in a car and started drifting to a halt, that's what was going on for me. 3rd place still gave me 50$ which is plenty to fill an empty tank or in my case- buy groceries. I actually walked in the last thirty or forty feet and I like to think that I should patent that move. I think freshman year of high school I walked it in after realizing no one was catching me and I had no one to catch. Haven't stopped walking it in since. 16:48 was my eventual time I believe. What to take from this race? Aside from a decent dosage of pain. For the next decade I could do literally anything and never run slower than 17 minutes. So that's something to write home about if you have nothing else to write about.
This clean face deserves no respect. Look the same age as my Jr High Nephews.
Sidenote- I go to tailgates for free drinks and food. It's a beautiful thing. Last week was a daunting 42 mile week, but my first 7 consecutive days of running in 3 months. I Have some pretty big goals this winter/spring so I don't plan on taking many days off for the remainder of 2014. I had almost 3 months of consecutive days off, that's plenty for the year. I'll get to my goals in a minute. Or a few minutes, pending on how quickly you can read. I left Sept Stride to take an unplanned nap and then headed up to Wheeling for the first time in way too long. There was an alumni tailgate for Wheeling Jesuit cross country which made my visit slightly more fun. I have to say slightly because I've never not had a ton a fun with Patrick & Co at Jesuit. I got to see my ex-favorite high school runner for the first time in Wheeling. Last time I saw Radabaugh I was watching him steal my heart as he took 3rd in 3a 3200m state championship; I left that meet to watch Jesuit destroy their conference distance races. Now the high schooler is at Jesuit. Two birds, one stone with my spectating this fall. Me and Radabaugh ran a few games of cornhole before I inevitably lost us the game. My only strength in cornhole, like most games, is the confidence I possess in lackluster game. After soaking up the sun all day with some of my favorite people around, drinking a little Croatian moonshine if I'm not mistaken, playing too much basketball, having a much needed heart-to-heart with Patrick in a bar, and catching up on the walk back to campus with Mr. Stu Jones; I called it a night. And a damn good one at that. Had it been anyone aside from Patrick, waking up a few hours later in the early morning and in the same twin side bed would have been weird. We've shared many beds in our time. I may be mistaken, but I believe the tale of one of our overnight cross country meets in high school goes as such: we get assigned a room, two queen beds, when we were woken (<-- alliteration of the day) the next morning we were in the same bed; just sleeping like babies. There are few people in this world that I am comfortable sleeping beside- Patrick, every dog in the world, and short term company. What to take away from this paragraph? I love Jesuit. They are sure to be a common topic in the upcoming entries as their season begins this weekend in Lulville, Kentucky.
Best picture of Barkcamp that I never took.
Two other repeating topics to come: Sunday runs with Travis and my weekday October training partner. A few hours after going to sleep in Wheeling I was up and at Sheetz fueling for a run a little more west in the wasteland of Ohio. I do have to give Ohio credit, they have an amazing amount of solid trails throughout the state. Which they should because that state goes on forever so they better be doing something besides charging 15$ to drive on their crap turnpike. We took to Barkcamp trails for an easy 12 miles. Maybe it's because the Rut was 10/10 on the technicality of the trail, but Barkcamp seemed as smooth as concrete and obviously softer; 0/10 technicality. The trail was so enjoyable that upon completion we were both in agreement that next Sunday will be at the same location. Travis says that it is centrally located for both of us because it's a 60-70 minute drive for him and 90 minute drive for me. I think Ohiopyle is more central because it's a 40 minute drive for me and just shy of two hours for him. 90 minutes is about the max drive that will probably never deter me from going somewhere. I'm close to my happiest whenever I am in the car by myself just jamming out. Except when the LLL get in my way. LLL is an organization that I created in the heat of being stuck behind a Left Lane Lingerer. They are growing everyday and are far more serious of a threat to my personal life than ISIS.
My weekday October training partner is Jake Van Horn. Here is a much overdue scoop on this hipster dufus. It's much overdue because he's been a decent portion of my life for half a year and I've yet to mention him in any of these entries. I started helping Jake midway through this past track season because he sought help and wanted to get better. For someone from my old high school, that's all it takes to get the fullest attention I can provide. In six weeks he lowered his pedestrian 10:50/5:05 to 10:20/4:45, but you can only do so much midway through the season. There was minimal break after the state track meet because he had only been training properly for a few weeks, and he had the ambitious goal of being all state come this cross country season. So miles were logged over the summer and I'm glad that he bought into the system and has seen results ever since. Now he tells the other boys on Fairmont's team the same answer I'd give when inquired about how he's gotten better: I just ran all summer. Doesn't take much. A little talent and some consistent dedication. He's been 15-30 seconds faster on every course in comparison to last year. Yet to put together a real solid race, but if history is any indicator, he'll be ready to drop a bomb come November 1st.
Partial season tickets arrived from Minnesota. So... Drop the puck!
This summer/fall has been an interesting one. Coaching the boys at my old high school has been a good experience to this point. I've learned a lot; not about running, training, or too much about the mental makeup of the current cast, but a lot about my old high school team. At first I wondered where the pride, passion, and heart was on the current team. When the only athlete upset with their performance is over two minutes faster than the next teammate- there's a problem. For awhile I attempted to understand their mindset and figure out how to destroy their sad train of thought and reinstate the proper drive. Then I thought back and realized that almost every team in the state has been more similar to the current Fairmont Senior team than to my team. I've grown far more thankful for the group of guys that I had at my side, whether it was for one year or all four. It just took spending a season with a team that would've at best been scoffed at, but most likely not even acknowledged to realize how special my teams were. Nonetheless, I've tried my best to aspire the rest of the team to give a damn. October is here and it's time to refocus in on Jake though. I have yet to pay him much attention at all this season because he is the only one who understands the system and can be trusted to work well on his own. Honestly, he is the only one that would have survived on any of my teams.
Super envious of the locks.
Right now I peg Jake somewhere between 9th-12th in the state. With a month left to train, there are worse places to be. I don't like how he is basically right on the fence though. I plan on running almost every normal run with him at practice and prepare him for his November war physically and most importantly- mentally. He's a grinder and I have zero doubt in his capability of getting on the podium. His most recent goal that he's vocalized is- I don't want to be the first one out of the tent(10th). Which makes me laugh. Hopefully I won't have to clinch the fence of Cabell Midland's track and watch his all state fate come down to a kick. I'd probably pass out. That last comment is for my Montana boys: Travis and Angry. There is always at least a sliver of selfishness in most decisions one makes. Helping Jake this month is benefiting me in the sense that it gives me no choice but to regain my fitness level enough to be able to workout with him. I plan on leading his workouts like this past spring when he never led a step of any of his track workouts. With two more track seasons and another cross after this one, we have one big yet simple goal: get as fast as possible. And when I said that he would be the only one to fit in with the older teams; I meant that primarily in the training mindset, but he certainly would socially too. For instance, this track season when I attended a meet for him it was the first time hanging out one-on-one and some random girl walks by, close enough to hear Jake as he said- Why don't you just ask her? She turns and looks at me and I put my head down. Then I just looked at him and laughed like I would've done to any of my old teammates.
We've run together several times this season since I've recovered from my injury and only really have one crazy story which is surprising in Fairmont. On the 3rd street bridge there is a turn which was evidently too much for one idiot driving one of those douche Jeeps that have pull away doors. Now those Jeeps only have two owners- outdoor bosses and douches. In Fairmont, West Virginia- 100% chance of being not a boss. We were running the same course that Patrick and I ran for three consecutive years, the course I ran primarily solo my senior year and part of that course is on the sidewalk of that bridge. I know all to well how trying it can be to be logging miles all alone, even if you are motivated. Prefer if Jake doesn't have to do that this month. Now the jeep is on the opposite lane coming up behind us and must've been texting or checking his assumed spiked hair and oakley glasses in the rear view mirror; he drifted into oncoming traffic, but sadly dodged the brunt of the collision with a much cooler Jeep. His front bumper was clipped because it extended past the wheels and was sent helicoptering toward us. Now it hit the road well short of the barrier between the road and sidewalk and slid against the barrier, but in Jake's and especially my mind... When that bumper came off it was flying 100mph at our faces, straight out of a final destination movie. I'm going to say that just Jake was spooked, but that's not the case.
Anyways, that is my training partner for the next month. Aside from Sunday trail runs with Travis. Here, as promised is my own ambitious goal. Frozen Sasquatch 50k in southern WV is January 3rd, 2015. The record is a few ticks over 4 hours. When I complete the race I don't want that to be the case anymore. I'd like to formally challenge anyone in the local area to take on me and Travis in that 50k. 2014 was my intro to trail running, now it's time to become a good trail runner. Sub 4 at Frozen 50, Sub 3 at Conquer the Cove where I went 3:12 this past year. Then either the US Sky Running or US Sky Ultra series in the fall. In my newest training cycle I have instated multiple hour+ hikes through cooper's rock just to spend time in the woods. It also helps my writing which will remain private for hopefully not too much longer. Also I am throwing in stairs into my runs to attempt simulate the burn that was felt while climbing 42% grades in Montana and chopping my mileage down a lot. 42 miles this past week, I don't anticipate breaking 70 miles in a week in the semi-distant future. The quality of my miles will rise though, both in pace and in terrain difficulty. So stay with me Digletts! The fun is just around the corner.
NEXT ON TAP:
Second week of October there is a trail 50k from Pilot Mountain, NC - Hanging Rock, NC. Travis is partaking and I am going to be his crew since I will already be in the area camping out with my friend and a pooch.
Barkcamp workout video
More tales from Fairmont with the dufus.
The progress of Mr. Mustache
I know this entry was shorter than most, but hopefully it was sweet. And you know what they say about reading: Ain' nobody got time for that.
#32 Big Adventure to Big Sky Hello DIGLETTS! The time has come! Follow me and my brothers as I recount our trip out to Montana to try and tackle the Rut. This race and journey is the epitome of this blog, therapeutic torture. The Rut chewed me up, spit me out, and then dusted me off and gave me a beer. There hasn't been an experience to shape and motivate me more than this in a very long time. Here is a solid preview video put on by the crazy awesome race directors:
Table of Contents to this 4,600 mile journey
CHAPTER I- WEST VIRGINIA - SOUTH DAKOTA
CHAPTER II- SOUTH DAKOTA - BIG SKY MONTANA
CHAPTER III- RUT 50K PRE-RACE
CHAPTER IV- RUT 50K!
CHAPTER V- POST RACE / YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK
CHAPTER VI- THE LONG ROAD BACK TO WV
CHAPTER 1- BROADTRIP
Queen Harper in Buster's coat. (Buster enters later in the tale.)
Tuesday 9/9
The journey began in my hometown of Fairmont, West Virginia. I took tank in to get his oil changed. While sitting outside of my old house I magically lost a hub cap. Sadly, my initial response was- at least they didn't slash my tire again. Fairmont has the motto the friendly city but that has to be sarcastic. Picked up another set of caps and headed north to Weirton, where my other two pilots are based. I did have to make a pit stop at my house in Morgantown on the way because I always forget something while under packing for travels. This time- gopro and socks. Without the gopro Chapter IV would be less scenic and without socks I would have smelt terrible. Granted, I still smelt just terrible at one point, but we will get to that. Pizza greeted me at the Simpsons which attracted the littlest Simpson to me. After devouring her piece of pizza, Harper began mooching bites from her folks. At this point I had yet to exist, in her mind. But when I was the only one in the room with a piece of pizza in my lap... She made a lower case i line toward me (sprint then hop to dot the i). She massaged my knee in an attempt to make the slice of piece slide within her reach. After that failed attempt she began climbing onto the chair but then more, simpler to access, pizza made another appearance into the room. Now, not often do I find it hard to stop laughing but the next scene will be one of those moments that you think about at random times and start laughing. Harper slid on my shoes and looked like a clown walking around. When she kicked them off she instantly went to the bathroom. Turned into tomato full of rage and focus! Then suddenly her skin flushed back to the normal tone and I can not describe the pure ecstasy she possessed as she ran across the living room, never more free. Karen sent me and Travis packing with root beer float cookies. I know what you're thinking, there's no way a cookie can taste like a root beer float. They did! That's why I ate three really fast and hid the rest of them until Chapter V. I will go to extreme lengths to hide my treats. Or treats that I claim as mine. Next objective- pick up Angry, or you can call him by his nickname: Todd.
Driving the backroads of WV's northern panhandle can provide one with scenic moments. For instance, while riding to pick up Angry I saw what I believe to have been a llama; its face was on the ground and its ass was in the sky. It was actually quite impressive. Since then I have tried to relax in a similar position, but it just hasn't come together for me yet. After packing Angry's camping stuff in tank, the entire back was piled almost as high as possible with all of their supplies and clothes. Half of the back seats served as a cupboard of snacks and my duffel bag containing every thing that I had merely packed. The sun was set, clock read 8:13pm but tank's clock is 13 minutes fast and getting faster by the day, and we were finally heading west! Nothing more refreshing than leaving WV for the real mountains. The destination is so sweet that I didn't even mind the little 20+hours of nothing that separates WV from paradise. On the way out, can't stress that enough. 30 hours of driving, 10 hours per driver. Break that into two 5 hour shifts a piece and that doesn't sound bad. It sounds terrible, but feels doable. Travis tackled the first shift through the behated state of Ohio.
After five hours of driving we had barely escaped Ohio and sat at a rest stop in Indiana. Time to refuel and switch drivers. That gas stop looked NASCAR worthy. I can say this with full confidence because I don't watch nascar when it's not on South Park so I can't tell you how much slower we were than a pit crew. They cleaned all of tank's windows and the feet prints off of the inside of the windshield in front of the passenger seat. How they got there is another story in itself. But some things that happen in tank stays between me and tank. While they sped through the cleaning process I chowed down on my first Hardees meal ever. I went conservative and just got chicken tenders because it is impossible to make terrible chicken strips. Most suck, but they aren't terrible. Basically I'd prefer to stomach bad chicken strips than a bad burger. It was pretty late in the night/early in the day and I was genuinely surprised that Hardees was still open. The guy cleaning the floors, running the register, and making food didn't seem too ecstatic that we shuffled in and requested some food. I like to think that he knew that had there been any other source of warm food at one in the morning on the crap turnpike, it would have been taken over Hardees. That leads me to a little...misunderstanding that I have with i80. Ohio, Pennsylvania, Indiana, and Illinois have by far the worst roads throughout i80. Out west the highway gets pretty awesome as do the people, scenery, weather, etc. Yet those four states pound you with tolls, especially Ohio! 15.50 to drive across your miserable state? What is the money going toward, finally getting a rectangle flag like the rest of the world? What a backwards ass state. Anyways, this was the greatest experience of this life, but even with that you must get the feeling of just how gloomy Ohio is. With it in the rear view mirror, the trip had no choice but to get better. It was my shift and there hadn't been any precipitation and minimal road work to this point; those two variables are the only thing that irritate me as a driver.
Luckily, the beautiful states of Indiana and Illinois provided me with more miles of construction than not. And the non construction sections consisted of constant bumps. If they're going to coin themselves America's Crossroads they should seriously consider buffing their roads. These are the thoughts I have while trying to out drive the sunrise. If you have read any of my previous travel tales you know that I wasn't in awe in the slightest to see Chicago. Driving through it in the early hours of a day is my favorite shift when on the road and especially through Chitown; no traffic. Almost all of my solo trips start at night because it's the best time for me to think. During the day I can't process my thoughts because all of the ordinary people are clouding my thoughts. Most of my blogs, writing, and all of my dreaming comes when the sun is out of sight. Wednesday 9/10
Sleeping? Or letting my beard legs dance?
Speaking of which, the following day provided absolutely zero sunlight! They say when you stay up too long it is similar to being drunk. I can attest to that. So like a severely buzzed night out, I can't recollect the final events of that time slot (late morning). I stopped driving at some point in Wisconsin and was in and out through Minnesota; often times woken up by the two men in front of the car bashing Minnesota mainly because it is a top three state of mine. That state was no more foggy, gloomy, and rainy as the rest of the midwest states but in their minds it was the worst. You're gonna learn today was my response which if that sounds out of context, it was but I was damn near illiterate at that point. I sobered up right across the MN/SD border inside of a Taco Johns with some mountain dew. None of us had experienced Taco Johns before. Evidently this John fella thinks tots is not only the best, but the only side for poorly made Mexican food. You know what is a good side to dirty delicious cheap Mex food? Doritos. Taco Bell all the way. But get used to reading about Taco John/Bell. I know my views are south of 500, but if anyone out there reading this from SD or further west, can you explain to me why everyone misplaces the word please? Order 38 please! That crap happened everywhere out there. I thought long and hard about that and concluded they were being short. Order 38 please! was short for Order 38, please take your damn food. If that is the case then my word, SD... Learn some manners. I forget what town we were in, but it was South Dakota. The only thing worth mentioning was WALL DRUG. And they mentioned it every couple miles on i80 for 400 miles. WALL DRUG has a monopoly on that highway's advertising. But I mean if they are advertising it so hard, must be incredible right? I wrote a short poem about Wall, South Dakota and my brief visit to the small town.
Wall's motto should be land of the awkward and old,
And when I was there, damn was it cold.
I haven't entered that into any contests because I couldn't hand the J.K Rowling sized fame that would result in its publication. Like most things that need to be pitched to you 500 times, it was over par. I hate when people say sub par for crap. It is a golf term and if you are sub par... good for you buddy. It's like the dozens of times that I have been called a horse's ass; have you ever seen a horse's ass? I wish I could be that toned and majestic. We made it into Black Hills National Forest with about an hour of day of daylight to spare. The road was extremely windy with several hairpin turns, narrow single lane tunnel, and super incline/declines but there wasn't a single guard rail. Either South Dakota is on board with my initiative to make it easier for idiots to slowly start weaving themselves out of society or everyone that goes to Black Hills is a badass. Hopefully both. Meow at this point we had been in the car for nearly 24 hours. When we returned from our run it would mark the 24 hour mark in our trip. I shouldn't say our 'run' because it was really three guys playing on and around rocks. Several miles were logged, but a lot of breaks were taken to play around. It was the most fun I've had on a run in honestly too long. Here is a short clip of us playing around in the forest. And yes, it was quite foggy.
Quick Back Story- 2 months ago I suffered a stress fracture in my shin. Thought about cross training so that I could be somewhat fit for the Rut, but I decided to eat Taco Bell and do stupid things like spontaneously go to the beach for a weekend and get burnt like a white guy on a beach. Still a creature of habit, we had Taco Bell for dinner before heading to our hotel. Why a hotel? Tank was packed full of our camping equipment. What we hadn't planned for was for it to be as cold as it got that night. In fact we happened to stay in Rapid City the only night/day one could experience the earliest snow fall ever in the city. Snow falling before the twin towers, *remembrance? Madness. Here is a funny series of pictures to give you all a feel for what my skin went through in a span of 11 days.
Snowball.
Just look at it.
A South Dakota September.
Chapter II South Dakota - Big Sky
Thursday 9/11(Surprisingly forgettable)
Now there should be some explanations to the questions you have about the previous pictures. My face was spared from the sun because I smartly covered it with a shirt as I fell to sleep on earth's
skillet. I was mistaken for Elton John and gave the people the worst singing of Tiny Dancer and Rocket Man that they would ever hear; gladly. Here's a secret about me- I sing all the time. Here is a secret that shouldn't come off as a secret- I suck at singing. I've been told that I'm the worst actually. For some reason I took that as a compliment. And finally, the snow up there? Pretty awesome! I liked it. Snow is the funnest thing in the world when you aren't running. Angry shared his feelings about the snow in a different way. This picture probably answers my curiosity as to where the lemon snowballs were spawning. Aside from our hotel breakfast our first stop of the day was for Taco Johns. That's right. Let me share my receipts with you to that point:
Hardees (Indiana)
Taco Johns (South Dakota)
Taco Bell (South Dakota)
Taco Johns (Wyoming)
Prior to entering my favorite state, Wyoming, Travis bought a coon skin hat for me to wear. The cap that is on my head above in the snow picture. He bought it for me with the intention to provide he and Angry with entertainment while I suffered from embarrassment. The only way that idea could backfire is if I would eventually embrace the hat and begin to enjoy its presence on my head. I don't want to give any spoilers, but that is exactly what happens. I'm still learning the definition of a spoiler. South Dakota wasn't too bad of a state, the further west you got- the prettier it became. Much like America. Here was a gas station in Sheraton, Wyoming:
Everything is cooler in Wyoming. Even Travis.
The previous day we drove a solid 20+ hours. Yet we still had a little over 8 hours between us and paradise in Big Sky. But this isn't 8 hours from WV to Chicago. Once we got into Montana, my second favorite state, the terrible weather was in the rear view mirror and ahead lied a boring drive with just the most beautiful scenery available on the major interstates. The plan was to camp out as close to the lodge in Big Sky as possible, but the weather planned on dipping to and potentially under twenty degrees. We packed like... 40 degree camping equipment. Our hand was pretty much pressed and we got a hotel up the road in Bozeman. But first- BIG SKY! Super pumped when we got to the lodge. It was love at first sight with Lone Peak. The three of us went exploring on part of the marked course, partially off course. The vague plan was to go up toward the peak. The run was amazing; I mean it felt like I'd been off from running for 2 months, traveled 30 hours via tank, and was sitting a solid 8-10k feet higher than normal. Nonetheless- most amazing run, town, people, trails! Thankfully I wear HOKA because I may be the worst runner when it comes to bombing downhills. Definitely the worst runner when it comes to bombing down mountains. They absorbed so much of the pounding. I already strike the ground like a 140lb buffalo. Here was our run in pictures, enjoy!
Probably the happiest moment of my life.
Lone Peakage
Soon to be patented socko gloves back there.
Decided to descend back to tank when the sun set. I like to think that was a wise decision.
Sadly the sun wasn't staying out all night and we headed back up north to our hotel. On the way there Angry damn near nailed two mule deer and we saw several Bighorns as well as a dumb Bighorn that was licking the guard rail. We had a genuine run by anyone's standards that day and the race was 30 hours away; It was time to start eating more health conscious. For dinner that night we went through Taco Bell. I don't understand when people 'can't eat Taco Bell because it sends them to the bathroom'. You know what sends me to the bathroom? Real food. Foods that come out of the ground. People need to stop looking at Taco Bell as food and accept that it is, as the funniest comedian on Netflix that you haven't seen Chris Porter, says: Ecstasy for you face. We continued to keep our bags packed because the next day we were switching Bozeman hotels after going down to Big Sky to watch the VK, Vertical Kilometer and pick up our packets. Meow I say a lot of stupid things. The longer I travel off of little sleep the dumber I get. But I think being stupid is hilarious when you aren't genuinely stupid; just not thinking. So on our first run around Lone Peak we climbed about 3,000ft, a barrier that would typically take 25 miles back home. We were under 3k, but close enough for me to say we ran that later in the hotel room. While discussing the VK I said that I wished that I did that race because it's only a kilometer climb, and we climbed three of those today! That was such a stupid statement that it took Travis awhile to fully absorb it and tear me a new one. At this point I realized that 1,000 meters is not 1,000 feet... But in moments like this there are 3 options: Admit that you were wrong- Never. Just shut up- Not fun. Or my way- get even more ridiculous with your thoughts until they shut up. At this point I was trying to explain to Travis the meter was french for foot. So a kilometer is the same as a kilofoot. The conversation ended. Though I was wrong, I felt like the winner and that's all that matters. And it was hilarious. That matters, too. Felt like the winner and laughed a lot- that's all that matters.
Chapter III Rut 50k pre-race Friday September 12th
One word stache description- Trustworthy
The day began with another commute from Bozeman to Big Sky, a beautiful stretch of road, so that we could see as much of the vertical kilometer race as the other spectator/fans. Prior to the start of the race a guy was warming up with probably a top ten mustache witnessed with these eyes; definitely the best mustache of the weekend races. Soon after seeing him I found out that I had just seen Rickey Gates for the first time. If you don't know anything about him, click his name to educate yourself on the cool guy. I admire his gypsy ways and hope that running can take me to half of the places that his running has taken him. The three of us grabbed some coffee to warm up the hands and headed up the initial climb a ways to get a good vantage point of each of the waves shortly after they started. That was the first time I got to see Kilian in person though I feel like I know the man through all of the videos I've seen. I'd say I follow him second most behind Anton. Anton is the definition of cool. And Killian Jornet is the definition of a champion. Though on top of the mountain he looked like a mountain goat. Seriously, he has more pop in his step atop a mountain than I do on a trampoline. He's the Lebron James of mountain running, minus the drama and softness. The Derek Jeter, minus the annoying commercials and glut of recognition shoved down America's throat. I don't follow MTV's latest reality tv show titled the NFL enough to make a reference and respect too many NHL players to dub one player as the best. I have a comparison to share with you all, feel free to disagree. If I had to pick a doppelganger for Kilian Jornet it'd be the actor famous for not being Seth Rogan, Jay Baruchel. Check it out-
Maybe not extremely similar, but if there was ever a running movie based on Kilian's life, Jay look insurmountably more like Kilian than Jared Leto resembled Pre. After Kilian and Rickey took one-two in the VK we traveled further south from Big Sky to scope out a campground for after the 50k. After roaming around for awhile, taking some random/kind of sketch roads, and throwing on that coon skin cap Travis bought for my head and his entertainment; we headed back toward the lodge for our packets. I love the picture I took on the way to packet pick up from the campground because it really captures how my mood when I am in the mountains. I've lived with Josh for some years and feel like he knows me far too well. He summed it up when he replied to the posting of this picture like this: I've never seen you so happy. Couldn't agree more. Montana, particularly that strip of the state, made me happier than ever. Before the race that I had just recently decided to do though unprepared had even begun- it was the best experience. Road trips are the best events in life if you have a few key ingredients working together: solid company, no complaining, and a beautiful destination. And beef jerky, but that shouldn't need to be included. After the packets were retrieved, we browsed through the Rut items that were for sale. That part was annoying. In a way I wish they were only selling like... a tee shirt and hat. Then there's no debating or decisions that need to be made. When they have good deals on awesome tees, hoodies, tanks, flasks, and variety of hats it's hard to choose what to buy because everything would be cool to have.
I landed on the hat because I always land on hats. This will forever be the case because I will forever have a hair line that requires one to get comfortable wearing hats. Plus c'mon... Sweet hat, right? Customizing your bib number adds to the coolness of this race. Now that the mountain was clear of VKers, it was time to run again. Travis had to go solo because I made the decision to not run. It was the most difficult decision that I've ever made to not run, too. We are in the most beautiful little ski town, endless places to run off to and explore land never seen by these eyes. At the same time I had only run a handful of times in three months due to the stress fracture. One of those runs being the previous day which, on top of the 30 hour commute, had me feeling more drained than I should be feeling the day before attempting a run that would have been the most challenging while training let alone coming off of an injury and not even in pedestrian shape yet. Angry and I decided to go inside the little mall, sit down at a bar, eat a bison burger that I would later regret after not only befriending, but bebestfriending Buster the Buffalo, and had ourselves a beer while Travis wandered off around the mountain until he got lost. The second most common running joke from this trip derived from my second dumbest comment of the trip. In the early afternoon the temperature rose to seventy degrees, so the jackets were off and the jeans were too warm. I looked at my phone once Travis finally found his way back to the lodge after ten miles, it said 52 degrees. Granted, it hadn't been updated for quite some time. I did not notice the last time it was updated. I started a rant about how everything is better in Montana and eventually note that 52 degrees in Montana feels like 70! I repeated this a couple times because I wasn't being agreed with like I felt I should have. Seriously, it was the hottest 52 had ever felt. Then they pointed out that it was 70 out and that I am an idiot. From that point on there were running jokes at my expense, but largely dished out by me. Day two in Big Sky- check.
Deep Digem Thoughts
We returned to Bozeman that night because the area planned on dipping below freezing again and like I said earlier, we were unprepared for that weather. And unprepared for the race. Only a number of blogs ago was Travis and I's solid 23 mile trail run where both of us felt to be in excellent shape three months out from the rut. Turns out that after I was injured Travis's training fell off too and he was carrying a nagging back pain. Luckily for him it wasn't like we were about to climb 12,000ft. I'm pretty sure to climb 12,000ft in our area we would have to be on our feet for a sound 60 miles. Most people would complain about being off their game come race day, but we kind of liked it. I loved it. Everyone I was talking to the day before got the same text about how I have never been more excited to absolutely perish. I knew then that I shouldn't be able to do 31 hard miles coming off of a 2 month break, but I also knew that I can do great things when I'm motivated. And I've never been more motivated for an off road race. This was the most beautiful place, they are giving me twelve hours, I am going to cross the finish line. That was the mindset at least. Still in my injured mindset to a degree, I ordered ice cream for my appetizer at Applebees. I had a funny encounter with both the other guests at Applebees and our waiter. After being seated I returned to tank to grab my cap and wear it outside in front of most of the people there. But when I walked by everyone back to my table I couldn't stop laughing. It was like one of those laughs that you try to stop, but that just makes it impossible to stop. Eventually I did stop laughing, I used all of my laughs for the day I believe. The waiter came out and we were talking about our travels and he said he was from Minnesota. My ears perked up and I jumped to the accurate conclusion that he was a Wild fan. I told him that I was too and have a small ticket plan this year. Then I unzipped my jacket and showed him my Wild shirt, he pulled down his work shirt and showed me his Wild shirt. I felt like I was in the guard in Haven or part of Voltemort's army. You show me yours, I'll show you mine kind of thing. After dinner there was a glut of rest for the weary.
Chapter IV RUT 50K!
Saturday 9/13
Finishing what I assume is a Go Daddy & Digem Sign
The morning started well before the sun made its rounds through Big Sky. It was chilled enough outside to make the decision to sleep indoors feel validated. And we headed south on 191 for the final time from Bozeman. The emotions were all over the place on the ride down, but masked in the fog of sleepiness that I have for awhile whether I'm rising from a 12 hour hibernation or a cat nap. Pumped to see all of the beauty that the race had to offer, Anxious to get started because I was tired of over analyzing things, Curious as to how my shin and entire body would hold up against the mountain, Nervous because I had a solid idea as to just how badly it would hurt today, and Deflated because this was my last day in Montana and the idea of driving thirty hours back to West Virginia had welcomed itself into my head prematurely. I kicked that final feeling simultaneous to the race starting. Let me start the race play-by-play off with letting those who are reading just this blog rather than being a consistent viewer. I am very much a baby in the trail running world and a newborn in the mountain running world. Both in age and definitely in experience. Last August was my first trail run and most similar to the Rut; down in the Tetons I did their trail marathon. I've done only a handful of races since then, lowering my trail marathon to 3:12, but for 95% of my running life it has been track and roads. So keep that in mind with my newbie commentary of the race.
Patience is more important in these races than any other race. I'm still learning that tool as I found myself bouncing around on the first steep climb that had most hiking. It was like I was in standstill traffic. The road competitor in my brain was losing his mind, but I knew that I had a long day ahead of me. My patience has come so far after a year of trail running. The air was bitter cold to start and until the sun rose my chest felt like the cold air was a dagger from the frost giants. I suppose that was the first time in months that I had felt any sort of air colder than disgustingly humid. The first climb was over and the sun was finally starting to show. Actually the first time I glanced down at my watch an hour had gone by. But it felt like five minutes. I was still running with Travis and the newest original plan of making it to the 12th mile aid station with him had altered to let's both just see if we can finish this thing. At five miles, Travis was feeling significantly worse than me. I was on top of the world. A local took a pretty solid dive right behind us and we stopped to make sure he still had everything in tact. I gave him a motivational "only a marathon to go man!" After he passed us and left our sight, this would be a common occurrence throughout the race, I pointed out that he fell on the first flat part of the course. Almost immediately I concluded that some of these mountain folk can't run on flat terrain. Not without falling a few times. But can they bomb the downhills... Travis went ahead of me for awhile because I dialed back the pace. I was feeling so much better than someone in my circumstance should and needed to think long term for the race. The first downhill that was down nothing but shale rocks on rocks on rocks made me question my competitors. Originally I thought I was racing people, but they sure looked like mountain goats storming by me. It was awesome! I tried to go faster, but I couldn't kick the voice in my head that was telling me that my current pedestrian pace was the fastest I could go if I wanted to stay unscathed; I did. Tired of reading? Here is what the beginning of our day looked and sounded like:
Travis came back to me and we went two miles together before he left me again. This was shy of two hours and I was encountering my first and honestly my only problem of the day. I went to take a gel, something I have eaten on long runs for five years and they dished out the best flavor: Peanut Butter. It wasn't setting right with me and didn't stay within me for long. Nothing wanted to go down and I didn't know why. I have never tossed anything back up in a race. The only vomiting I've done came during an eight miler through Morgantown when I wanted to see what would happen if you tried to run minutes after eating a lot of KFC. The results were not pretty, but now I know. As Kevin Hart and Angry would say- I was gunna learn today! I was going to learn the drawbacks to not being able to fuel. It didn't impair me at first. My stomach was like a wave pool, but I wasn't really feeling the effects in my legs. Then came the hardest climb that I have ever attempted. Mile 15 took me 39 minutes. Let me explain why. First of all, it was straight up a mountain full of rocks, loose rocks, and more rocks. I'm probably exaggerating, but the slope seemed awfully close to 90 degrees at some points. I probably took five or six breaks from the climb just to have a quick seat. The wind was blowing and in my mind I was standing on one leg atop the space needle. So I sat down to catch my breath, which wasn't coming back as quickly as normal. I realized then that climbing a mountain is something I had never done and that I may be the only participant who could say that in the race. Climbing that mountain would be equivalent to putting me on a surfboard I don't know how to use while a tidal wave came in my direction. I can't swim, so the comparison is solid. At the highest point, the top of the ridge, I stopped to access my life. Not the slightest afraid of heights, I thought. Little shakey up there. But I don't know if I've ever seen a more beautiful sight. A dozen people passed me and asked if I was fine and I really was- just taking in the sight. I was standing 10,000ft higher than I live at and I was going to enjoy it. I decided at that moment that, though I am beyond amateur at climbing, these are the races that I want to do from this point forward. Haven't felt passion for running like I did up there in years. I'll be the first to say I got burnt out on the running I used to do. But this... Too beautiful for the novelty to ever dissolve.
The funny part, in hindsight, was when I began moving again. Suddenly the 15 miles of mountain climbing crept into my legs while standing still and they didn't want to make it to 16. Right after I concluded that I was definitely going to finish, the legs sputter out big time. I walked over to the next section of the course that left my mouth open with fear. Now I don't think I'm afraid of heights. I had no problem just hanging out up on the ridge for the rest of the day, but I do fear falling. There was a rope used to grapple down some of the mountain side before turning back onto a trail of rocks. I let several people pass because I had to see what was going on. Some didn't even use the rope which was applauded by the volunteers. Some did. Once again, I couldn't have been more foreign to something like this. Eventually I said F it, basically I mentally checked off everything that I was glad to do in this life and put some thought into the things and people I planned on hanging with if I didn't go ten feet passed the end of the rope and fall forever. I jumped into the ravine, grabbed the rope, and slid down at a much faster rate than I was comfortable (still a slow rate). I paused after returning to the rocks to record people going down it. The video does end at this point, the video that I will share with you momentarily. Gotta eat your veggies before you get the good stuff. That's how Conor Oberst explained playing songs from his new hit album Upsidedown Mountain before playing his classics, and that is how I'm explaining giving the dialogue before the video.
I didn't video my steep descent mainly because it would have been terrible footage. I bombed most of the descend. Bombed, like speed and fitness, must be used relative in this sense. I descended faster then than at any point in that race, I climbed up the ridge, tore my hands in half on the rope... These were moral victories piling up for me. I turned one of the corners and saw a guy dusting himself off at the bottom of this near cliff, but clear of most rocks drop. He yelled something, which I now know what he said, but my initial response was WHAT? My next step was on the iced over dirt and I popped up in the air like Marv from Home Alone when he slid down the back stairs. After skipping off the ground twice and returning to my feet in full stride he repeated himself: "It's icy." The rest of my run should've been recorded because it was beautiful I would imagine. I got more delusional than I've ever been in my life. I was out of fuel, the fuel I took didn't stay, and I was two miles from the next station to refuel; or attempt to. I had a terrible case of cotton mouth and don't remember much about the next two miles. I know that I ran some, but walked most of it. My legs felt like they were asleep, and I'm convinced that they were asleep. I do recall having the optimistic idea of refueling at 18 miles, sitting for a minute, feeling 100% (people who give 110% aren't good with numbers.) and climbing bonecrusher to the summit at 20! At that point I would re-access life again. Take it station by station, but making it to the summit was a must.
Let me tell you the funny story that I have been telling all week and love to share. I wobble up to the 18 mile aid station and first get handed a cup of soda, by request. When I lift that cup up to drink- down goes Digem. You'd think that Clubber Lang's fist was in that cup rather than soda. Imagine a trust fall without friends behind to catch the one falling. Next I was covered up in stuff and sat on a bench. I can't explain why, but I was shaking pretty hard. Basically convulsing. Wasn't cold though so it was odd. Slowly, but surely I was fed fuel and I think it stayed down only because I was staying down. The medical staff there was on their game, if they existed. Later Travis and Angry convinced me that I may have made them up. I said the lady that helped me was Nora and looked just like Nora from How I Met Your Mother. At this point I'm convinced I was so delusional that I pictured the entire HIMYM cast at the aid station helping me out. True story. A minute, or hour, goes by and I was helped to a vehicle that would run me to the lift that would take me to the lodge. I had one of those I just had one too many drinks feeling as I walked to the vehicle and was convinced that the fuel I had just taken was not staying down. But it did. I met a really cool guy who drove me over to the lift. He was from NC, moved to Alaska and now Montana. I was in it enough to ask him some genuine questions about how he managed to move from the east coast to the better part of the country for good. I wasn't in it enough to recall his story. Once I got to the ski lift I was freezing my ass off, but enjoyed the lift down. I was with a worker and another runner who busted up his ankle and couldn't continue. A lot of people didn't finish I later found out so that made me feel like less of a wimp. On the lift down I pointed out some burned trees and the worker there said that it was cause by one cigarette. That really angered me because to me it summarized how disgusting people and habits and ruin beautiful things. We chatted about disc golf on the way down the lift and I was getting extremely envious of the lives the two men to my right was living. Because at the end of the weekend they were living in paradises and I was driving thirty hours to West Virginia.
I was escorted to the ambulance which I thought was trivial at the time. I had been off of my feet for awhile and stomached a decent amount of fuel. I felt pretty normal, but I know I came off a little crazy to the guy checking me out. He took my blood pressure and afterwards said that it seemed fine. This remark popped me up and I asked for the specifics. He said 120/69 and I yelled "Ah! Kroger has been lying to me, I knew it!" He gave me a look you shoot the crazy guy talking to himself downtown. Of course he didn't know what Kroger was, but that grocery store had been feeding me lies when I sat down and strapped into their free blood pressure machine. I knew my bp wasn't too bad. I saw Travis shortly after exiting the ambulance and was dumb enough to ask him how he finished. It was dumb because at this point I believe only three or four had crossed the line. Travis peeled out at 17 miles due to his back. We sat around watching finishers for two hours until Angry finally returned from the woods where he was patiently waiting for us to go by 23 miles which we never did. He had the car keys though so no Angry, no warm clothes.
SO that was the Rut 50k for me. DNF, but never been happier with a race. When we left WV I wasn't even going to attempt it due to my fitness, but I somehow pulled 18 miles out and was very happy with that. The day it opens up I will register for it once again and cross my fingers that I don't injure myself in the months leading up to it. 5/5 stars for every category you judge a race on. Here is the footage I captured throughout the race- enjoy!
Chapter V Post Race / Yellowstone
As time passed I have wished that the race played out differently, but I know that 18 miles is all I could spill out for the digletts, so that will have to due for now. We finally got to camp out for the first time of the trip after the race. We went straight into Yellowstone and grabbed a camping spot for the night. After unloading the tent I fell straight to sleep because I passed out. Anytime I slipped up for the rest of the journey my excuse would be- hey I passed out. When Angry or Travis reported back home about the race they only said- Dayton passed out. That running joke is holding strong ten days after I passed out. I believe the joke started because of how excited I was to let them know that I had conked out at 18 miles. I thought it was hilarious, never thought that I would do that. Time for Buster to finally come into play. We were driving around that evening looking for wildlife and this beautiful s.o.b was just walking down the street.
look at it. just look at it
I quickly named him my best friend and we went for a walk. We even have photographs of our friendship.
Best Friends, walking together like best friends do.
Meeting Buster was one of the highlights to a trip full of highlights. Much like everything in Montana, seeing a buffalo was a first for me. I knew that I would love them because of my obsession with cows back east. Cows are the best. If bison are unavailable. When the sun went down we climbed into our tent for the night. The host lady told us to not leave clothes or food out because the bears are attracted to human scent... I've been told from time to time that I smell similar to a human. While living off of our snacks Travis discovered the bag of root beer float cookies that I had been hiding and secretly devouring all trip. So I had to share. Had I not been completely drained, I would have been on guard a little about my human scent. I was the first of us to pass out and slept like a rock all night. Assuming rocks sleep through the night. When I woke, I learned that coyotes were not far away at some point in the night. Travis woke up to see if I was still in the tent or if I had fled to the car since coyotes were howling near by. I slept through it or I probably would have been freaking out like he assumed. I realized my rank in the current environment's food chain. Was not feeling like challenging it. But like I said, slept like a sleeping rock.
Sunday 9/14
I picked the ideal day to get the best sleep I've had in a long time. Because the plan was to make it back to West Virginia before making a bed. We ventured through Yellowstone and I would post pictures on here, but I literally took hundreds of pictures. Absolutely gorgeous! If you want to see pictures, follow me on instagram. I am putting 1 picture up a day for 100 consecutive days from the Wyoming/Montana. My name is acidicballsweat which what I assume is the cause to the hole in the bottom of all of my shorts/pants. If Yellowstone were to have no scent, it'd be the greatest place in the world. That's not the case though. Sulfur has a smell and it is a terrible smell. I couldn't get over the obsession with geysers actually. They're colored steam water that smell terrible. I'd much rather go play in a field of buffalo until they kill me. Or until they claim me as their own and welcome me to their lives. That's what I love about the area- mountains and wildlife. Yellowstone can keep their geysers, not a fan. Here's the gang waiting for Old Faithful to blow. You can see the excitement on my face-
If you were wondering, I am wearing the same clothes as the previous day. I didn't shower or change after the Rut until I was in Morgantown. At that point I reeked almost as badly as the geysers. Sadly I wore my HOKA Conquests throughout the entire trip back east and didn't wear socks. So they will stink forever now. I think shoe stench is a great metaphor for life. If you wear socks everyday, the shoes don't smell bad. Not good, but not bad. But if you so much as walk a quarter mile in shoes without socks, one time, they stink for life.
Final Chapter: Back to WV
This chapter is short and sweet because there is not much to say about traveling 30 hours via car to the east. We left Yellowstone and then an hour later we turned around and left Yellowstone the right way. Drove all the way through the Shoshone region until we got to Cody. On the way was the dreaded drive down from the mountains. Old Tank doesn't perform well when dealing with 8% or steeper grades. Luckily Angry got us out of the mountains and we popped out at a place ironically called Dayton, Wyoming. Here is part of the descent.
Night was falling already and we had only made it to Cody for Arbys, yet another great food selection... Next we went to Casper for some delicious Taco Bell. At this point I was geared up and ready to plunge toward Omaha. See last August when I drove to Alta, WY by myself I split the drive into two 15 hour shifts coming home. 15 hours from the Tetons to Omaha, Nebraska and 15 hours from Omaha to Morgantown. That was my plan. By the time we'd get to Omaha the sun would be rising, but I wanted to do it. I love driving through the night and get super competitive with making it home in one drive because no one wants to extend a drive home longer than it has to be. So I took the wheel and drove until we hit 26 which cut off Cheyenne and a good chunk of i80 in Nebraska. Now it was past midnight when Travis suggested that we get gas at this gas station. NO! We have half a tank, no need for gas now. Little did I know, 26 in Nebraska is full of vacant towns, we were seeing town signs saying population 8. I shit you not! That is crazy. Half a tank of gas later I am just fuming. Here we are in nowhereville, Nebraska running out of gas and there hadn't been an open station in over 100 miles. We had to stop at the next station and wait for it to open. When we pulled into the last town that Tank could reach the most majestic sight revealed itself- An open gas station! The roadtrip gods were looking out for us. I went inside and had another spacey episode. I saw that the gas station was still in 1980 and was renting out dvds. 2 for 6 dollars! I grabbed Anchorman 2 and Wolf on Wall Street and started to grab even more before Angry came over and shot my dreams down. I started explaining how big of a steal this place was, 3$ dvds! He made me read the sign again; that was the deal on renting them. Completely devastated, I returned the dvds to the shelf and walked back to the car out front. A little down the road they asked if I got the dvds and I said no, they were for rent and I couldn't return them because I live 19 hours away. Then I felt stupid because I didn't think- I live 19 hours away! I could've rented them and just never returned them. Angry with my recent string of decisions- I drove on.
Monday 9/15
This Monday was spent in the car. Every hour of it. Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, then it rained all the way through Ohio because it rains everyday allday in that crap state, and finally back to Weirton to drop the gang off. Then I had 100 more minutes until I was at my place. There wasn't an eventful moment to that Monday, but it was needed to return to the monotonous Morgantown. I arrived at my house at 1:47am Tuesday morning. I got in the car at Yellowston 7:54am Sunday. 30 solid hours in a car. Try just going and sitting in a car that long let alone drive a good portion of that time. It wasn't fun. The driving that is. I really enjoyed the company and screwing with toll booth workers to pass the time. Listening to the song I can only assume is titled Base 467 times on local radio stations. Blowing up Cleveland's local radio station with requests to play Chocolate Rain. Critiquing the work ethic of fast food restaurant workers. Plenty to do on a road trip.
With the Rut in the rear view mirror I now look forward to training and tackling several races in the next calendar year. 2014 has been my introduction to trail running. 2015 will see far more success than my handful of 2nd places, and two DNFs. This will forever rest in my room until I move closer to the only place that feels like home.
NEXT ON TAP:
Next blog goes up Tuesday evening (9/30)
First trail long run video since injury, ft Travis.
My October Training partner
Discuss new training plans/philosophies
No more BEARD?!?!
Preview the two potential races left in 2014
I'd like to thank everyone who has followed my travels to this point and promise to do more traveling and racing with better results. I feel like I let the digletts down with my injury and plan on coming back stronger and smarter than ever with the hopes of putting together a really long stretch of good running and living. If it weren't for the support I received, I wouldn't have made it as far as I did out there in the real mountains. I'll never take you all for granted.
My weekday October training partner is Jake Van Horn. Here is a much overdue scoop on this hipster dufus. It's much overdue because he's been a decent portion of my life for half a year and I've yet to mention him in any of these entries. I started helping Jake midway through this past track season because he sought help and wanted to get better. For someone from my old high school, that's all it takes to get the fullest attention I can provide. In six weeks he lowered his pedestrian 10:50/5:05 to 10:20/4:45, but you can only do so much midway through the season. There was minimal break after the state track meet because he had only been training properly for a few weeks, and he had the ambitious goal of being all state come this cross country season. So miles were logged over the summer and I'm glad that he bought into the system and has seen results ever since. Now he tells the other boys on Fairmont's team the same answer I'd give when inquired about how he's gotten better: I just ran all summer. Doesn't take much. A little talent and some consistent dedication. He's been 15-30 seconds faster on every course in comparison to last year. Yet to put together a real solid race, but if history is any indicator, he'll be ready to drop a bomb come November 1st. 
Anyways, that is my training partner for the next month. Aside from Sunday trail runs with Travis. Here, as promised is my own ambitious goal. Frozen Sasquatch 50k in southern WV is January 3rd, 2015. The record is a few ticks over 4 hours. When I complete the race I don't want that to be the case anymore. I'd like to formally challenge anyone in the local area to take on me and Travis in that 50k. 2014 was my intro to trail running, now it's time to become a good trail runner. Sub 4 at Frozen 50, Sub 3 at Conquer the Cove where I went 3:12 this past year. Then either the US Sky Running or US Sky Ultra series in the fall. In my newest training cycle I have instated multiple hour+ hikes through cooper's rock just to spend time in the woods. It also helps my writing which will remain private for hopefully not too much longer. Also I am throwing in stairs into my runs to attempt simulate the burn that was felt while climbing 42% grades in Montana and chopping my mileage down a lot. 42 miles this past week, I don't anticipate breaking 70 miles in a week in the semi-distant future. The quality of my miles will rise though, both in pace and in terrain difficulty. So stay with me Digletts! The fun is just around the corner. 
