race report: this feels oddly familiar

The one thing that totally caught me off guard about my first DNF was how long it took the imposter syndrome to actually wear off.  Sure, there are a fair bunch of y'all that would give their left nut to be able to do 91mi at Hardrock - but it's more painful when my performance was a clear regression of fitness and a stark reminder of my own mortality.  

That being said - I totally signed up for Tunnel Hill prior to running Hardrock fully expecting this scenario to play out.  It definitely helped with scrubbing the imposter syndrome away...but it still hurt like a bitch.

yup, this is how I dress for races now.  nothing to do with kolache intake though.

race report: high climbs and misdemeanors

welp, it had to happen at some point.

i'm just glad it took me 12 years to get here - and that it is not the sad story i thought it'd turn out to be.  

like seriously, i don't need you to feel sorry for me - i'm just glad this is the culmination of one batshit-crazy racing history.  

[so far.]

Race Report: The End [of the Beginning]

Like most things in life, everything is temporary.  
And like it is for most runners, distance running is just a crutch that you don't need forever.

This is the story of the confluence of these two concepts.

Race Report: 切ない/Setsunai

Full disclosure - this report is long.  

But so was this race, so........🤷

Race Report: "And then fucking taco shorts comes out of nowhere"

Despite dragging my ass around the world on many various adventures throughout the years, I had amazingly never been anywhere in Canada east of Toronto (technically Montreal if we are counting layovers).  Then one day, this scrappy ULCC airline started flying out to St. John's from Calgary for roughly half of what I would pay on a mainline, so I checked with what my bud out there was up to for September long.  He said he was out of town running the Steep 50k in Corner Brook, so I signed up for the 100k of that iteration to tag along with him.  

Yes, you've read this story before.

Me, MEL'NIE! and Tim before the race

Race Report: Stellar Nucleosynthesis

Seven years ago, shortly after signing up for my first 100 miler, I signed up for a hilarious 120miler race just to see what happens after the 160k mark.  (I'm almost certain that this decision was also affected by my consumption of alcohol.)  That race was also a Hardrock qualifier, and after enduring that race I embarked on a multi-year saga to make my way into this "post-graduate" race.  I figured that by the time I made it through the lottery, my teeth would have been sufficiently sharpened enough to be able to make it through this endurance run (not a race!) in the San Juans.  

I made it into the 2019 version, which was canceled by high snow depth, but then was deferred to 2020, which was canceled by a pandemic, and then deferred myself to 2022 in light of onerous travel and training opportunity restrictions during the 2021 race.  I didn't count on getting into Western for 2022 as well, but with fears that I was losing my edge with nagging discomfort here and there with the progression of time, ('aging out', i guess), I elected to bag the two races in the same season.  (and also three weeks apart.)

This is how that story ends.

Race Report: The Zone of Optimal Confusion

Back in 2012, when I was feeling bored with my time after having just moved out on my own, I ended up hanging out with a few random internet strangers and colleagues who got me into trail running.  These folks were terrible influences on my life - I had trouble keeping up with geezers on 6km runs and lacked the appropriate gear for this new sport, which cost my wallet dearly.  But slowly and methodically - my weekly volume increased along with my endurance and capacity to take no shit from my legs.  Folks told me that with enough practice, I could get to participating in these highly esteemed lottery-entered races full of cursing and minced oaths.  

Then on one fateful day prior to the 2014 Canadian Death Race, my entire corporate team realized it took place over the August long weekend and backed out, leaving me to run the entire thing by myself.  I had told myself I had no business chasing after Western States Endurance Run (WSER) tickets because it seemed like an overly onerous endeavor, so the only reason I was running this race was because my company had effectively comped my entry.  The race management saw my name on every leg, ported over my relay entry to solo and I ran it a few weeks after pushing my max race distance to 50k at the Calgary Marathon.  It was messy as fuck and I don't remember much of it, but I got my first ticket to WSER at that race because I made the cutoff by half an hour.  

I learned you could hang on to your tickets and double them by running qualifiers in successive years as long as you kept it consecutive, and alas - this is how that story finally ends.

Race Report: On Letting Go

How're ya now?  Not 'sbad?

It's been a while since I last toed the line at a race - exactly 52 weeks and 6 days before the race of this report, I ran a 3k relay race mid-pandemic, but that was a massive rolling start and our team all started together.  I had volunteered for ultras and smaller road races since then, but the concept of running long distances for long periods of time was once again foreign to me.  

Fortunately, I had to get my shit together for the 2022 WSER race lottery, and needed a qualifier between November 2019 and November 2021 to keep my consecutive ticket count going.  There were effectively no WSER qualifiers during 2020 in Alberta and we had a non essential travel ban effectively through to mid summer 2021, so despite spending an entire summer volunteering for local events and gravel riding instead of getting long training runs in, I committed to getting off my bike at the end of August and racing a 100k closer to the end of October to give me the most time to prep as possible.  It was between Quicksilver in San Jose and Leona Divide in LA, both races that normally occurred in the spring, and I figured the latter would be saved for another year when I could swing by Disneyland on my way home.  (Not a joke.)

Race Report(s): well that was a hoot....

.....but this life is not for me anymore.

no, i'm not retired; but despite having the freedom to do so, I'm just not inclined to put so much energy into running long distances in obscure locales for silly outings anymore. 

grab a chair, maybe a growler of a hard-to-drink stout or sour, because my rationale is stupid long and takes place over a series of months.  sorry not sorry.

Race Report: A Temporary Absence of Irreverence

Aldous Huxley once wrote that, “The harder we try with the conscious will to do something, the less we shall succeed.  Proficiency and results come only to those who have learned the paradoxical art of doing and not doing, or combining relaxation with activity.”  I, for one, am terrible at this, because for the most part, I think that most activities do not operate on non-linear laws of diminishing returns based on a horrible misinterpretation of a Chinese interjection at a very young age.  

Serendipitously, this year's Bighorn was just the punch to the throat I needed to rediscover the joie de vivre I've been lacking as of late.  

Race Report: My Happy Place

If you've been following my adventures since Northburn Station, you'd know that this one has been a long time coming.  

And there is no TL;dr to it because it doesn't deserve one.  This one is going to be Odyssean, even by my standards.  So maybe grab a beer or six. 

Race Report: Obligatory Ass Pun Goes Here, Con't

Some of you, like myself, have probably been waiting for this for almost a whole year.  

My new love in my life, Marsha

Don't worry, you won't be disappointed.

Race Report: To Be Human Again, 2018 ed.

I've always dreaded the inevitability that one day, I'll execute a race so flawlessly that my corresponding race report would sound boring and dishonest.

Thankfully that day was not during the 2018 100mi version of the Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Runs (TRTER).  

also, because i am concurrently training to be a ninja there are no public photos of me on the course again [yet].  sorry.  (not sorry.)   (Edit 07/31: I found one!)
there may be choice gifs here and there though for the lolz.  

#foreshadowing

Race Report: Not Today

It's been a long half-year since I last posted, and more since I last wrote a race report.  I was worried that writing this would be particularly onerous as I wasn't sure if I was able to inject the same color into my prose the way I did in reports previously.

Thankfully, Mother Nature had my back during the 2018 108k version of the River of No Return (RONR) Endurance Runs and ensured that my experience would be ridiculously eventful.  Buckle up--it's a long one, and in a historical first, one with no photographic evidence that I was actually on the course.  

(it's been strava'd though so it did happen.)

Race Report: Detox Just to Retox

longtime readers will know that the last time i had a legit off-season was between 17 January and 7 May of 2016.  since then i've been racing either monthly or bimonthly at the very least, and needless to say....it's getting fairly onerous.  it's not the same type of burnout i had after my 24h run in 2015 that culminated a 5-month stretch with a monthly 99mi+ run, but as of late i've been definitely viewing my training regime as a chore.  furthermore, despite my race history reading like a masterclass in destination racing, lately i've been more stressed out while out of the office than when in the office because of the fires i had to fight from far far away.

you could say i wasn't getting much enjoyment out of running anymore.  

Race Report: The Beauty of Brutality

Despite my ninja-nomad lifestyle, I'm not one for intentionally running-for-shits-and-giggles.  Being raised by working-class immigrants and being largely depraved of genuine, legit vacations in my early childhood, the vast majority of the races I run these days have some utilitarian function, whether it be bagging a qualifier or completing a race series, or because I have to burn off vacation days I don't want to, or to say I done did a race arguing with a burro for nearly ten hours because I needed a Tinder profile picture refresh.  

I did not need to run Mogollon.  I already had my totally-unnecessary Hardrock qualifier from Northburn (I had finished Angeles Crest in 2016, which itself was totally unnecessary because I finished Fat Dog in 2015), and Mogollon counts for shit-all at WSER.  I only signed up because I joked to my friend Del last year at R2R2R that I should come back for a visit and make the ritual an annual event three years running, and Mogollon could be the excuse.  Amazingly this wasn't the first time I half-jokingly suggested a race to someone we could all do, only to realize later they weren't fucking around (sorry again, Karen/Lourdes!)--so I didn't want to flake out yet again.

Appreciating suffering--it's not easy to do with intention.  My motivation and hunger have previously been compromised at the start line of races where I lacked a raison d'etre, but I wanted Mogollon to be a more difficult study in casual lunacy.  I wanted to mix in a sense of urgency into an unpredictable exercise with minimal tangible gain.   I wanted to actually experience the Mogollon Rim's unique character not just with my eyes, but by jumping feet first into hell.  I wanted to be able to laugh about it right at the finish line.  I wanted to finish a race with no necessity, yet in a complete bliss that would have began by mile 75--and in the complete absence of regret.  

Race Report: Aid Station Perogies Can Only Get You So Far

(After being stateside every second weekend for the last six weekends, I regret to inform you that this one's not as sermon-y as my other reports.  Sorry.  I'm just phoning it in for this one.

Besides, I'm sure a few of you want to read something more digestible than my last one.)

Race Report: Obligatory Ass Pun Goes Here

I know my prose is not for everyone, but contrary to my statement of events of my time down south in March, finishing the long course of Northburn Station was one of the happiest moments of my life this year.  I had just waddled into the medical tent and was getting my knees checked out by the medic, and she had briefly left me alone while fetching her blister lance (she was really sick of dealing with exposure all weekend), so while waiting for her to return I decided to take my phone off flight mode and catch up on my emails.  

The subject line on one of them contained the word "Invoice", but my face slowly contorted to a shit-eating grin as I finished reading it off.  

Race Report: The Dreaded Clip Show Episode

I like to run my races according to something Lao Tzu said a long time ago--

If you are depressed, you are living in the past.  If you are anxious, you are living in the future.  If you are at peace, you are living in the present.  

The Worlds End 100k was one of those times where I tried to live in the present and enjoy it, but it was apparently just too fucking boring for me.  Here's what I did instead.

Race Report: To Be Human Again

I am still one of the lucky few who have never had to write about a DNF (did that merit a spoiler alert?  Sorry if it did), but it’s something I look forward to because there are just so many dimensions in finding the strength to persist.  When the day comes for me to have to write about it, it will surely take volumes to describe the eleventy-bajillion ways I done-fucked up.

The 100mi Northburn Station was the closest I’ve ever come to not finishing, even though I finished with more than nine hours remaining on the race clock.  So hopefully this will keep you entertained in the meantime.