4th Place at Rockyman Brazil

I would say by all accounts it was mission accomplished for Team Canada at our first ever appearance at Rockyman Brazil. A unique format event in which teams compete for the lowest combined time. Six individual disciplines are contested by five team members, with any one team member competing in two events. As a full team of five you add one member (a steersman) for a six-man outrigger canoe race, and then you cap it all off with a team run over trail, sand and pavement in which all team members must stay together but the team is allowed to carry and use a skateboard as they see fit. Yeah, that's about as unique as it gets right.

Just building the team was far more challenging that one might guess. I received an email in mid-July inviting me to create a Team Canada for the event. Of course the opportunity could not be passed up on and after rather quickly building out the run and mountain bike components I tapped into my six year deep Hawaii relationships to come up with our surfer and stand up paddle boarder as each team is allowed one non-national, and hence I decided our two sport athlete would compete in stand up and surf.

Outside of a healthy respect and admiration for what skateboarders do I can't say I have a direct link to anyone in the scene, I do however have a few work contracts with Red Bull, so I started there and added in a Facebook call out for good measure. Almost a full month later we finally had our team together after adding Adam Hopkins. Things were progressing well and we confirmed our attendance.

Three months later and now less than a month before race day and Adam shoots me an email saying he's busted up his ankle in a fall during competition. SHIT! Shitty for him and now serious questions for us. The hardest role to fill was now empty and it was back to the drawing board. Within days I'd somehow connected with and confirmed a Canadian skater living in San Francisco by the name of Keegan Sauder. Team complete!

Anne-Marie Madden, Greg Day, Andrew Logreco, Keegan Sauder and myself were all off to Brazil, or were we?

VISAS! WE NEED VISAS! Anne-Marie flies out in 72 hours, I fly out in less than a week, Greg shortly thereafter and Andrew and Keegan a day before race day on November 8th. Plastered across the Canadian visa application page is something to the effect of:

"If you live in BC, you better start this process AT LEAST a month before you depart."

Alrighty then. The race had begun. A last minute scramble which included passport photos, three months of bank details, a letter of invitation, a letter of intent, a letter from your employer and just generally a lot of rigmarole and magically we now possessed official entry visas!

Next Stop Brazil

I'm guessing the most successful businesses in Brazil must sell spray paint. If it doesn't have wheels on it it's generally covered in graffiti, some artistic, some not so artistic. No area is beyond the reach of the Brazilian tagger, in fact many must posses harness and rope setups, or somehow have the innate ability to scale vertical walls while hanging one with one hand and spraying with the other. Either way to find an unpainted stretch of concrete must be like the fabled pot-o-gold at the end of the rainbow, for I saw none.

Slowly but surely our team trickled in and introductions were complete. Of the team members I only knew Anne-Marie on more than an email level, and outside of congratulating her on winning every single one of my races she's shown up at, I knew little else about her.

"You're a doctor! Don't you just want to complete your residency so that you can quit your career and live out of a truck though? That's what a real trail runner would do Anne-Marie, that's what a real trail runner would do."

Anne-Marie Madden - Doctor
Andrew Logreco - Lifeguard
Greg Day - Teacher
Keegan Sauder - Student
Your's Truly - Race Director / Running Coach

Marcio Franco - Whitewater rafting guide - our steersman in the 6-man and local Brazilian to help us find our starting lines while staying out of jail :)

Collectively the mix of personalities could not have been any better. Everyone had a keen sense of humour with Keegan definitely leading the way in the team clown category. After rushing around all day on Friday a near sleepless night awaited me. Race day was here!

The set up of the races meant that we wouldn't actually be able to see our teammates compete. Andrew was out the door first for his surf competition as he was in the 7am heat. The surfers had to run 2.4kms of sand to start their heat and Andrew was apparently first in the water by a large margin, but there were little to no waves awaiting him. He placed a very respectable 9th in the end.

Mountain bike was second on the docket and the heat and humidity of the day were taking hold. I saw 91% humidity on a weather forecast the night before and it was definitely now upon us. Greg finished off stage two with a 14th place finish on the bike.

Women's and men's mountain run were up next, with the women starting one minute before the men, and running one less loop than us. Total distances were supposed to be 27km and 32km. The women were off and just sixty seconds later so were we.

This is the 3rd edition of Rockyman and apparently it's the first time they've been able to take the run off the roads and onto the trails. Within less than a kilometer of running the men were all grouped together and asking which way to go. Someone reacted, thankfully with confidence, and we were off again. A lead pack severed from my group and given they pre-race estimates of a 4+ hour winning time I thought it no big deal to let some people blow off some steam. Thankfully I was running with three Brazilians, one of which knew the course, because time and time again as a group of four we'd come to an intersection with no flagging. We kept catching sight of the lead group up ahead as they two were obviously struggling to stay on course.

After a 5km loop we doubled back through the start area and thankfully thereafter the flagging improved slightly and the secondary trail networks diminished. I didn't feel too bad through the first 45 minutes, believing I was running an intelligent race, but by the time I'd been running for an hour the wheels fell clear off. It wasn't nutrition or pacing, it was the heat and humidity. Since we were in for a 4+ hour race and I knew I'd packed sufficient calories for the entire thing I simply went about slogging it out. I was confident that most of the lead grouping were going to incinerate by the 3rd hour and that I'd catch at least a handful of them before the finish line. The race also finished off with a huge descent so I took stock of how that favored me as well.

Two hours in and our first water crossing. I was in a bad place so I went ahead and sat in the ankle deep water, splashing it all over me. Still a few hours to go so better stay on top of things now I thought. Not sixty seconds later and a volunteer says,

"The race will be stopped at the top of the hill."

"WHAT!? Why?"

I hit a road crossing at the almost exact half way point in the race and all the male runners were sitting there, eating, drinking, stretching. I found Marshal Thompson who is one of the best Skimo racers in North America, the 2nd place run finisher from Rockyman's first two editions, and the significant other of Stevie Kremer.

"What the hell?"

"Apparently there are lots of lost runners and all the lead women are off course. They're stopping the race to reassess right now."

They transported all of us two kilometers up the road and we waited there as the lead women came in from an entirely different direction. Emotions were running high and I stood back and read body language as most of what was happening was in Portuguese of course.

Marcio was there with our team car and a few of his friends and Greg was there as well, now having completed his event. They fed us coke and chips while we waited to learn what was to occur. The official announcement said that in ten minutes (about an hour after I'd stopped) we were restarting as a full group of 40 male and female runners. We were all going to run the final 16km from there to the finish. It wasn't communicated at the time but most of us were able to guess that they were also going to throw out the first half of the race and simply double up the time for the final half of the run. I was stretching and hoping beyond hope that my body would rally. I also told myself to forget whether I thought this stoppage favored me or working against me on the day, it was what it was.

3-2-1 GO!

It was a 2km downhill run back onto the trails and to my own surprise I felt pretty good again. We hit the trails and I was at the back of the lead pack of maybe six guys. Within ten minutes we gapped the group behind us and were moving well. Maybe the stoppage was a good thing after all? I held the group without much of a thought. The terrain was quite technical and I was actually enjoying myself.

At 40mins I felt great, but by 50mins my body was once again unable to cool itself properly. The wheels started to shake but I backed off a notch, stopped briefly at any and all water sources and continued to tick along without losing position. There was but a few thousand feet of climbing now that would take us up to and around Christ The Redeemer, then it would be all downhill to the line. Just a few minutes up the climb however, somewhere around 1h15m maybe, my energy reserves were drained. It was gong to be a long haul to the line.

Right about the second I was thinking "well I haven't lost any positions yet" someone started to catch me from the switchbacks below. "Is that Stevie!?"

Stevie was crushing and making it look easy. She was on her way to finishing the stage 3rd overall, behind only the men's winner from NZ and her significant other Marshal.

Christ The Redeemer was impressive to say the least, and I forced myself to take ten seconds to stop and take it all in. On the climb up I'd now been passed by Anne-Marie and NZ's female runner, though few men up until that point. The women as a whole seemed to be crushing the guys.

My strongest suite became my nemesis as my legs started seizing up completely on the incredibly steep descent. Position after position were dropped as I struggled my way to the line. A flat three mile paved run around the lake took everything I had and delivered me to the line for 11th place. For a brief moment on my way down from The Christo I consoled myself in the knowledge that Anne-Marie was holding her own against the men and I was now filling in sufficiently in the women's field :)

Anne-Marie was just ten minutes back of Stevie, which would have been good enough for 8th in the men's race. We actually weren't doing too bad for ourselves all things considered.

Andrew greatly helped the team by coming off the water shortly thereafter in 4th for the SUP.

The races were all behind now due to the trail run gaffe so it was into the car and rushing off to the 6-man outrigger race. Traffic was bad and there was no parking, so our guys dropped us off and before we knew it we'd drawn our boat and the countdown was on. The horn sounded and the craziness began. Our team had managed 45 minutes of practice the day before, with only Andrew and Marcio having paddled a proper outrigger before. Twenty strokes per side at a time and all of a sudden Anne-Marie let out a celebratory woohoo. We were in 3rd!

Going into the outrigger it appeared that our collective time had us just behind a local Brazilian team for 3rd OVERALL in the event. With but the outrigger and team run to go we were still podium threats.

The first buoy was coming up quick on the six lap, eighteen turn, twelve kilometer long race. It all happened so quickly we didn't have time to react.

"WE'RE IN THE LINES! BACK! BACK! BACK!"

We'd caught the tie downs for the buoy and as we struggled to get ourselves free the entire race passed us by. We were now in dead last. Andrew, our lead paddler says,

"Alright guys, lots of boats to catch and pass now."

And that's exactly what we went about doing. Personally I was still cramping all to hell. My hip flexors, my quads, my hamstrings. No matter how I contorted my body something seized up on me, though I ensured no matter what it took that I didn't miss a single stroke.

By the time we closed out the six-man we'd gotten ourselves back up to a very respectable 13th, having passed a half dozen boats, which in and of itself is no easy task. I climb out of the boat, completely spent, now cramping in the arms and back.

"TEAM RUN STARTS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!"

Holy shit. I might die. I might actually be the weakest link on our team run. We're allowed to carry the skateboard for the final seven kilometers of seawall pavement on the other side of the mountain. I told the team no egos during this run and I meant it. I might be the one asking for the skateboard.

We clamored around while attempting to get the sand off our feet and our feet back into socks and shoes. I had just enough time to grab a handful of chips and down an acai thanks to Marcio and Jorge, who were continuing to take incredible care of us.

3-2-1 GO!

100 athletes from seven countries, with twenty skateboards, were off on the final stage of Rockyman. We ran the road for 1km before hitting trails that take us up and over a 1,000ft spit of land. The singletrack came quick and the backlog began. Thankfully we found ourselves in about sixth at this point. Going into the run we were told we had about fifteen minutes to make up on the third place team to snag a podium spot.

Keegan was behind me and saw my struggles. He started pushing on my mid-back to help me up the steepest sections.

"If you're gonna mean it Keegs, you gotta lower you hand just a bit."

It was truly phenomenal how this group of people had come together in less than 30 hours, from complete strangers to one cohesive unit. At the steepest section of rock it was full hands and feet scrambling for a short section. Andrew was up above and called for Keegs to toss him his deck. Without hesitation he put some oomph on it, Andrew snagged it, and we were collectively up and over.

"Guys there's no reason we shouldn't be able to win this stage right now!"

We picked off team by team until we crested the climb in 2nd, immediately on the heels of the Kiwis. Once it flattened out Andrew and Keegan went about a flawless transition between running and skateboarding while Anne-Marie drove the bus home. Greg was super solid the entire time and both Andrew and Keegan could actually run which allowed us to move at a great overall pace.

We dropped the other teams almost immediately and collectively hammered out the final kilometers. With less than 1km to go they direct you onto the beach to grab your finish line. Everyone but me was able to crank it up under the excitement. I uttered, "uhhhghghhgg" which meant "sorry guys, don't leave me here to die, this sand is doing a number on my legs." We immediately regrouped to cross the line in unison, stage winners, 4th overall, and definitely front-runners for most-fun-team-ever-award.

We waited as the minutes ticked off, would it be enough? Three minutes, four minutes, five minutes would be all we could grab back. Third place was held by the Brazilians and Team Canada officially finished fourth.

Rockyman Brazil - Full Results

Thanks for the incredible experience Rockyman, we hope you'll have us back again next year :)

GR

Strava First Run
Strava Second Run
Strava 6-Man Outrigger
Strava Team Run

Transkarukera 120km, Guadeloupe - Follow Along

I've kept my latest racing plans a little under the radar over the last eight weeks. This was nothing more than wanting to ensure I was 100% recovered from the lingering foot issues I've dealt with this year and not wanting to outwardly commit to a racing goal until I knew I was good to go.

Near the end of the HURT 100 in January I started experiencing metatarsalgia style pain in my left foot, the opposite foot to which I'd twice before broken. I seemed to have successfully worked through the initial issue by late March and had confidently lined up for the UTMF at the end of April. One of the most disappointing races of my life was to follow and even though I wasn't having my day I was proud of how hard I continued to fight through, only to be forced into a DNF after 105 kilometers due to the foot issue flaring up again.

Throughout May I rediscovered my road bike while working with numerous top local practitioners and by early June I started back to fairly normal training volumes again. I made a conscious decision not to go up into the 100 mile plus training volumes of one year ago. I know that my body can happily handle that volume, but to force it on my foot after a lingering injury would simply be playing Russian Roulette with myself. I officially seemed to have turned a corner in the last few days of May, and every week since then has consisted of at least sixteen hours of movement.

The first three weeks had lots of hiking and biking hours built in, and the last four weeks have been solid mountain running mileage while complimented with some intense biking sessions. The last four weeks in particular add up to 73 hours with 480km / 300m, 25,000m / 82,000ft of that being on foot. I've felt great throughout, gotten stronger week after week, set the Hanes Valley FKT along the way (2h49m) and managed to not get hit by lightning while working pacing duties for Adam down at Hardrock last week. All in all, I feel about ready to let one rip.

Guadeloupe. What? Guadeloupe. Where? Guadeloupe. How? Guadeloupe. Huh?

Yeah well funny story. The Skyrunning World Champs in Chamonix last month was to be a goal race for me this year, and while conditioning my sit bone to accept a bike saddle again in May I was coming to terms with the fact that the June 28th race date simply wasn't going to allow me to recover and train effectively in time. I then had a communication with this race in Guadeloupe, Transkarukera, or TRANSKA for short. The race date of July 25th, being one month further on was ideal. Here's the thing though, as I dug deeper I was shocked at what I discovered about this race. You ready for this?

The race is just 120km long, yet it boasts 9700 METERS of climbing and descent! It's a Caribbean Island, how is that even possible!? Those are UTMB and UTMF stats but the race is a full ultra distance shorter than both of those (-~45km)!!

Digging deeper still, the course record was OVER twenty-seven hours AND that run time was heralded as an unbelievable time for the course! The second place finisher in 2013 was Christophe Le Saux, who I've run with twice now at UTMF. Christophe finished the 2013 and 2014 UTMF in 13th place, his 2013 time was 22h51m while his 2014 time was 23h41m. Christophe's time at his 2013 2nd place running of the TRANSKA 120k...thirty-three f#@king hours!

How does a race have climbing stats in line with the toughest 100 milers out there, while being significantly shorter, and end up with nearly inexplicably longer finish times? I'm not entirely sure, though some communications since then have helped paint the picture a little clearer, this one in particular,

"There is a 33km mountain stretch that you will run at night with overgrowth to navigate, and you will need to be fully self sufficient for a six to eight hour period. You should also carry a GPS device with the race route loaded into it, to prevent getting lost."

I'm guessing you throw in some Caribbean heat and humidity, and what I can only guess to be HURT like volcanic island technicality and all in all it sounds like a nice little hike in the woods to me.

Some slightly disappointing news as of a few days ago; it looks like they had to make a slight course change this year. The distance stays the same but they'll lose the better part of 1700 meters of elevation, bringing it down to a still rather unbelievable 8000 meters.

Another cool feature with this race is that they make people carry a live GPS tracking device, meaning that you can pull up their website at any point in time and get up to the second updates as to how the race is unfolding. I believe this is the future of ultra running. I'm sure this device in 2014 will be quite bulky and cumbersome, but once these things get dialed down in size can you imagine being able to watch Western States or UTMB via a live up to the second GPS feed verses twitter updates every fifteen to sixty minutes. I think it's safe to say that this will occur at some point in time, and when it does I know I personally will get even less accomplished on the big event race days.

Guadeloupe is a French island in the Caribbean that operates on the Euro. Damn the French have it FIGURED OUT with owning small tropical islands around the world!

I fly out on Monday, July 21st and the race starts at 8pm on Friday, July 25th. Here's the link to the website and to their Facebook Page on which I'm guessing they'll eventually show their live tracking data. I'll attempt to update in the days leading up to the event.

As a side note, the race director Gerard has been incredible at helping me piece everything together via Google Translate conversations. Being a race director myself I know that I've been a huge pain in the ass over the last few weeks.

Basic Info:
Guadeloupe (/ɡwɑːdəˈluːp/; French pronunciation: [ɡwadəlup]; Antillean Creole: Gwadloup) is a group of Caribbean islands located in the Leeward Islands, in the Lesser Antilles, with a land area of 1,628 square kilometres (629 sq. mi) and a population of 405,739 inhabitants (as of Jan. 2013).[1][note 1] It is an overseas region of France, consisting of a single overseas department. Guadeloupe is an integral part of France, as are the other overseas departments. Besides Guadeloupe's two islands of Basse-Terre and Grande-Terre, the smaller islands of Marie-Galante, La Désirade, and the Îles des Saintes are included in Guadeloupe.

As part of France, Guadeloupe is part of the European Union and the Eurozone; hence, as for all Eurozone countries, its currency is the euro.[3] However, as an overseas department, Guadeloupe is not part of the Schengen Area. The prefecture (i.e. French regional capital) of Guadeloupe is Basse-Terre. Its official language is French, although many of its inhabitants also speak Antillean Creole (Créole Guadeloupéen).

Imagery that gets me stoked: 

Beaches, sand, surf, diving, mountains, singletrack and a badass trail race. Is this HURT V2.0? I'm kinda hoping so :)

GR

HURT 100 - Follow Along

If you're interested in following along during this Saturday's HURT 100 here are a few useful links:

Ultra Sports Live TV

HURT 100 Webcast

HURT Twitter Feed

My Twitter Feed that Linda will update through my first 80 miles (she'll be pacing a friend after that)

My 2013 Race Report via IRunFar

My 2010 Race Report

Personally, I'm busting at the seams a little bit right now. I'm excited to lay one out there this weekend and I feel like even though I came down with a chest cold at what I thought was the absolute worst time, right at the end of November, I managed to get past it at just the right time, near the end of December. My training through the back half of December and into the first week of January was flawless and going into this weekend I am 100% fit, healthy, rested and without excuse. It's time to race!

A few of my favorite pictures from the last few months of playing outside

GR

UTMB - Postmortem

It's time to do a quick blog posting and officially put this one behind me, though it'll linger and sting for quite some time.

First and foremost, I DID NOT drop out of the GD race due to COLD HANDS! Let's just get that one outta the way right off the top.

The coverage the Bryon and Meghan provide to the ultra running world via iRunFar is unparalleled and they deserve to be commended, in fact I was happy to contribute one small iota to their extensive coverage by lending them my smartphone which I'd purchased a French sim card for. I met David James for the first time, a great guy as I'd been told by our numerous mutual friends, and he took my phone on a greater tour of the Mont Blanc range than my own legs would afford my body during the race itself.

Back to my point, Bryon tweeted: Gary Robbins is "ok," but likely not continuing from Les Contamines. His hand was frozen. #UTMB

How that exact exchange went:

IRF: "Gary! How are you?"

Me: "I don't think I'm continuing. I'm okay though, I need you to let Linda know that please."

IRF: "Okay, I'll be sure she gets the message"

Me: as I shook his hand "Thank you"

It was another 30+ minutes before I even processed that my hands were cold. Bryon has simply added an observation to his tweet but it unfortunately read like the cause of my drop and subsequently I've answered more frozen hand questions than this guy

UTMB 2013

I'll try not to drag this out too much but when I arrived in Chamonix on August 22nd it was with a quiet confidence that I'd done absolutely all I could to show up on that starting line in the best shape of my life. I'd never strung together such consistency and stayed injury free for so long before. Including December's training for HURT I'd logged nearly 3,000 miles of training in the eight and half months leading up to my flight across the Atlantic. Included in this was a straight line focus on mountain running with the majority of those miles being on trail and over terrain similar to what would be encountered in France. My goal heading into UTMB was a top ten podium finish. I know I had the physical and mental abilities to pull this off, but in the end I never even made it out of the train station.

In the week leading up to the race I'd refreshed my mind with visits to many parts of the route.

Colorado based runner Brendan Trimboli joined me on these excursions and I was constantly amazed by how fresh and spry my legs felt, day in and day out.

Four days before race day I got a slight scare though, as all of a sudden I started sneezing and my face started leaking fluids. I hadn't been sick in over a year and it seemed unjust that anything could sideline my attempts at 'honouring my fitness' while in France. I define honouring your fitness as the constant reminder you need while digging deep in a goal race. You work so damn hard just to get to the starting line that honouring your fitness is about pushing through the lows and ensuring you stay focused on your race goals all the way to the finish line. To not honour your fitness is to quite on yourself, even momentarily during your race.

Getting sick obviously freaked me out and I started ingesting 5-6 packets of Emergen-C a day, which I always travel with. I also realized that a lot of times you can only seem to get sick when you allow a 'normal level of stress' within your body to cease. In line with this I attempted to keep my body a little physically stressed in the hopes that whatever bug was attempting to get the better of me would quickly f#@k off. It seemed to work for within 24 hours I was no longer dragging a box of tissues around with me.

Day Before Race Day

I headed out of my hotel, across the street to the Aiguille Du Midi tram parking area and then started up the trail for 30 minutes. I sat in the forest for a full half hour and cherished the relaxation that it afforded. I was confident that my mind and body were aligned and ready for the task at hand. I sauntered back down the mountain and did my best to relax for the rest of the day.

Race Day

I actually really enjoy late day start times as it allows for a full nights rest. The day itself always manages to get away from you but in the end by the time I was following Julien's coat tails into the starting chute I felt at ease with what lay ahead. I was ready to run my own race and let the course come to me. A similar effort to what Mike Foote had laid down a few years prior, while starting slow, back around 100th and climbing all the way up to 11th was the grand scheme. Anything more than that would be icing on the cake I figured.

The pre-race insanity behind us, and the race was finally underway. After protecting my space and ensuring I didn't get my legs taken out from under me I ended up settling into a pack with the top English speakers in the field. Mike, Mike, Jezz, Tony and Amy just ahead of us. I was checking our pace and happy to see we were all staying controlled at somewhere between 7 and 7.5 minute per mile pace. I had opened up Fuji in 6.5 minute per mile pace so this felt like the exact pace that would allow everyone a nice warm up run into Les Houches.

As soon as you hit Les Houches the first climb presents itself. I watched Tony and the Mike's go to work and quickly disappear and I happily settled in with Jezz, Rory and Nuria. We alternated the lead occasionally with Jezz leading the majority of the climb. As we neared the 80% point of this climb was the first true inkling that something wasn't quite right. I effectively blinked as the terrain flattened and when I awoke from my brief stupor I literally found myself thinking "How did they get a gap on me like that?"

I had taken thirty seconds to assess why the hell I was feeling so terrible and in doing so had internalized so much that I'd lost site of what had happened externally.

"Whatever" I said to myself "Just slow down if you're not feeling it. Let the race come to you"

I watched Jezz and the girls disappear and started focusing on eating. I had already been eating consistently but anytime things feel off I try to eat in the hopes that the calories are at the root of the issue.

We dropped down into Saint Gervais and I slowed further. I was letting people pass me on the descent as all of a sudden everything felt like effort, even the downhills.

I smiled my way through the aid station. Fake it till ya make it. Steal some positive energy from those around you in the hopes that it will help you rally quicker. I reminded myself that every race has its low points. You can never predict when those lows will hit and though most times they are later in the race when your mind and body are at war over if you should be vertical or horizontal, I have in fact had races where the worst of it was very early on. I slowed further and was now full on coaching myself through this.

"This is okay. It's still way early. You'll get through this. Eat. You're not even in the mountains yet, you'll feel better once you're there. There's still at least 20 hour to go, don't fret. Etc, etc, etc"

The problem throughout all of this was that I was getting continually passed. I then spotted Hara (winner UTMF) and he was favoring one hip. I knew his day was nearly done and I patted him on the shoulder as I passed him, the one runner I'd passed in the last hour.

Right about then I realized that I'd been in my head for far too long. I simply needed to externalize some of this and I needed to speak English with someone. As if right on cue a British runner pulled up alongside me and asked how I was feeling. We commiserated and reiterated that we were both feeling terrible. It was nice, nice that is right up until I uttered the words "don't let me slow you down" at which point England walked away from me as though I were towing a sled. It was back to self coaching and it wasn't getting any easier. I was effectively attempting to talk myself off of that DNF ledge. My mind flipped between the anger at the very thought of the DNF and the reality of simply attempting to figure out what was wrong with me.

Another perfectly timed interaction. This time with John Tidd, the 6th place finisher at UTMF. John was an interesting character to me. He was the only non-sponsored runner on the UTMF top ten podium and he was the first runner in Hokas, finishing ahead of their team runners. A Spaniard living in South America who luckily for me speaks perfect English. Once again he reiterated that what I was struggling through was 'normal' and he mentioned that this was his least favorite part of the race and that it was rather 'deceptive' in how it played out. I knew John was a legit top ten threat and told myself it was time to wake up and go with him. Once again though, I had zero ability to even walk/hike the same pace as these guys. My shoulders and lower back started hurting and I could feel my hamstrings tightening. Things were getting worse.

As we closed in on Les Contamines and what was looking more and more like the end of my day I made one last ditch effort to rally my way through this thing. I had yet to be caught by my buddy Brendan so I pulled aside and waited for him. I started to feel dizzy when I stopped and I was thankful that he wasn't far behind. I told him how I was feeling and he went to work on coaching me through it. We ran towards the Les Contamines aid station together and I had convinced myself that if I could just run with Brendan for awhile it might help me snap out of this, or at the very least to continue further and see what happens. As you head into Les. C there is a tiny bump of a climb up to the aid station. Brendan walked it for the bump that it was. I could not believe how difficult I was finding this rock pile and I was passed by three more runners.

I was done. There was no denying that something was off, way off. I wasn't even 20 miles into the race and I felt like I'd run a hard 50 miles.

I told Bryon I was done and shook his hand. The twitter-verse thinks I've dropped due to a frozen hand, in 20 degree weather. It's not a fun night for me, and it proceeds to get worse.

My crew is the head of the S-Lab shoe design team and the man who patented the Salomon lacing system. He does his best to get me to continue, but I'm beyond done and I know it conclusively.

I pull my bib and while Patrick stays to cheer on a few friends I lay down in his car and fall asleep. It's 8pm.

I awake thirty minutes later and stumble from the car just in time to puke in the adjacent ally. I haven't thrown up in over 18 months. I've never thrown up in a race before, in fact I'd never thrown up for anything less than severe food poisoning, far too much alcohol, or a serious bout of the flu...oh and for Typhoid Fever, I threw up that one time I had Typhoid Fever.

Patrick returned with some friends and while driving me back to Chamonix I had to ask him to pull over so that I could get sick again. He thought it might be his driving as he was flying down the windy road, it was not as I wanted him to drive faster still.

A half hour later and we were back at my hotel. I thanked them for taking care of me, apologized for feeling like I'd wasted their time, and then ran up the stairs into my room for my third and final chunder.

I collapsed on the bed and tried to will a redo into existence. Where was my mulligan? How could this have happened? How the hell was I back in bed before the lead runners had even made it to the half way point of the race?

Shit happens...or more accurately I guess, puke happens. Some things are beyond your control and you can't go beating yourself up over things that you effectively have zero control over.

What I posed on FB the day after my drop:

After a restless night where my mind wouldn't allow my body to sleep I realize that I feel a little like the sports team that makes the finals but loses out after a great year.

I am attempting to remind myself of what a great season I've had and how successful 2013 as a whole has been, with the absolute highlight still to come. As a friend just pointed out, if a DNF is the low point of 2013 than it's a pretty good year by most accounts.

I'm exhausted, surprisingly and inexplicably sore, excited to be in the Alps on a beautiful day, proud of my North American brethren and Salomon teammates for great runs all around and astounded by what Rory Bosio just pulled off (7th overall with a new CR). It's a great day for ultra running and given that a Japanese runner won UTMF, an American runner won Western States and a French runner won UTMB it's also been a rather balanced year in this world. It's an exciting time for our sport.

On a personal level, I'm now completely homesick and longing to be with my bride to be Linda Barton and our furry family of Shazzar and Roxy. I can't believe I get to marry the absolute love of my life in just fourteen days! AND that we're going to have family and friends from around the world joining us for our party 

I'm a truly fortunate soul, and that is never lost on me for even a second. I work tirelessly at creating a life that is full of joy and reward and in doing so there will always be a balance of disappointment and setbacks, but never regret. One step back, two steps forward. A bump in the road of life. Onward and upward. Thank you all for the support along the way, you make me feel blessed.

I'll have lots of positive memories from this, my second trip to France, but unfortunately the race won't be one of them. This one stings and will continue to do so for quite sometime. That's just the reality of the situation. With your greatest pursuits can come your greatest victories, and indeed your greatest disappointments.

GR

UTMB - The Trail Runner's Mecca

Five days in and I finally managed one full night's rest. It's been an eventful trip thus far and as is always the case while visiting a trail mecca like Chamonix it can warrant a hefty dose of self control.

The pre-race odds are officially out via iRunFar and Talk Ultra.

Personally, even though I ran the entire UTMB course in a four day span last year prior to the race itself, I am kindly being reminded of the fact that though this race has a beastly 9600 meters of climbing, nothing on this course is beyond anything I've regularly trained over in the last few months. The grades are quite similar, if not slightly less, and the average climb is in the 700 - 800 meter range with the exception being one 1500 meter climb early and a 1500 meter descent a bit later. The average ascent I was tackling in North Van was right in this range of 800 - 1000 meters. All in all, I truly believe that North Vancouver is an absolutely ideal training grounds for a race like UTMB, even more so than some of the iconic areas you would associate with big mountain training in the US. I like where I'm at right now, both physically and mentally. I'm right where I need to be on a personal level and right where I deserve to be on the prognosticators lists, just marginally below the main radar tracker. There is a great opportunity in front of me in the coming days and I plan to take full advantage of just how hard I've worked to get back to here. I couldn't be more excited to be lining up on Friday and quite frankly there are few runners in this field who have trained as specifically as I have, while strategically limiting their racing and all the while still staying healthy and uninjured throughout the entire year. I can't wait to run this race!

In regards to last year's 53rd place finish, which has been mentioned but in which I never actually wrote a race report for. I'll sum it up briefly by saying this. I was approximately six months ahead of myself mentally vs physically and I shouldn't have been listed as a pre-race anything last year, including in my own head but sometimes you just have to go and take a chance. I knew early on that 2012 would end up being more of a recon for 2013, and I struggled heartily to not drop out of the race numerous times. The frigid weather and lack of accrued fitness took its toll on me. It was a full body struggle just to make the finish line and when I looked back on my 53rd placing a few weeks later I was surprisingly quite proud of it, for I feel that I actually managed to out perform my fitness and come away with an almost respectable result. This year will be different however. I am certain of that.

It's been a great five days so far, here's how it's broken down. I'm pretty sure that from here on out time will start to speed up and before I know it I'll be on the starting line at 4:30pm on Friday. The long range weather forecast is promising, and at the very least it's going to take something completely unexpected at this point to prevent us from running the full 168km loop, which would be the first time that's happened since 2009!

Day 1 - A mixed bag of sleep. Feeling tired. Run final climb towards La Flegere and continue up to Lac Blanc. Take the descent at a good clip. Very pleased to wake up the following day with zero soreness on my quads. My legs seem ready to go. I got engaged to Linda here last year and I visited the exact spot where that happened. Starting my week off right.

Day 2 - Wake up numerous time throughout the night. Meet up with Brendan Trimboli who I met at Orca's Island 50k in 2009 and we instantly become adventure / recon partners. We do the first climb out of Les Houches up to Delevret. Decent pace up and down. The rains hit pretty good in the afternoon and I'm reminded pretty quickly of just how finicky the weather can be at this time of year. Another great day out.

Day 3 - Wake up at 4am and find it impossible to get back to sleep. Brendan catches the bus in from Les Houches and we depart Chamonix at 8am. We cross the border into Switzerland and recon the 2nd to last climb out of Trient. It's a messy morning and raining when we start, yet somehow we end up with one of those special days out where the clouds enhance the scenery and the rains succumbed shortly after we began. Post run we took a slight detour into a gravel pit operation before rectifying our mistake and finding a once a year street festival in Martigny. The sun comes out and we're treated to a perfect afternoon.

Missing start data. Should be rounded profile with 3400ft

Day 4 - Sleep well till 4am but am up for an hour till 5am before sleeping again till 6:45am. Brendan and I, with my Aussie friend Gretel who's running Trans Alp, head out to Les Contamines to recon the second and longest climb of the race. We only go half way just to get a feel for it before very slowly returning the way we came and stopping on a patio along the trail to sip espressos in the sun and chat about the differences in race permitting and sanctioning in Canada vs US vs Aus. A fun day out with very little stress on the body, and while we were sipping joe Nuria Picas comes flying by on the climb and then once again on the descent as we're basically trotting our way out.

Day 5 - Finally a full night's rest. As with each night prior I'd wake up and hesitantly check my phone for the time, only today I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that I'd slept until just five minutes before my alarm would sound at 6:45am. Hopefully this allows for another good sleep tonight. I recall last year that it took the better part of seven days before my body balanced out and adopted a new rhythm. Today we drove straight through Mont Blanc via the 11km long connector tunnel to Courmayeur in Italy. The crossing costs 51 Euro so Brendan and I were looking to fill the car. It was nice have recent arrival and 2012 3rd place finisher Mike Foote join us along with friend of a friend Callum Stowell from NZ. We hit up Courmayeur for coffee before driving up the Val Ferret into Arnuva which is where the trail climbs to the highest point on the entire course, the Grand Col Ferret at 2537m / 8300ft. We sauntered but a mile uphill to gain the Refugio Elena, posed for some pics and dropped back down. It was a shocking visual reward for less than 5km of trail. Montrail runner Amy Sproston is staying right in Arnuva and we all grabbed lunch together before the guys hit the 11km stretch of tunnel back into France. All in all it was a perfect day as we had very little physical stress along with ample visual and caffeinated rewards.

I'll end with this, a funny side story. Last night at the 10pm start of the 300km long PTL Meghan Hicks from iRunFar introduces me to Michel Poletti, one of the heads of the UTMB races. She kindly says,

"I think Gary can finish top ten this year"

To which Michel, without hesitation, shrugs his shoulders and says,

"Weeeeeee shall see. We would like to see a top American (North American) finisher...." before he tapers out. It was pretty comical actually. He didn't even flinch in basically saying, "Yeah, heard that one before, a few too many times. Best of luck but we all know it's a European dominated race." In the end he's being nothing but honest, but something tells me there's a few runners from the other side of the pond this year who'll make some waves. It's gonna be fun to watch it all play out on Friday!

GR