Running Raw

Tim VanOrden’s Running Raw Times – March 5th, 2010

A Huge hello to all my friends and supporters of the Running Raw Project.

In This Issue:
• The Year in Review
• 2010 To Do List
• The Race Report
• Running Raw Apparel & Lecture DVDs
• The Running Raw Buzz
• The Training Log
• Upcoming Events
• Your Support
• In Conclusion

The Year in Review?
Many people think that I live a charmed life. I get to run, hike, race, travel, talk to people and basically do whatever I want. What could be better? In many regards this is true. I have chosen to pursue something that I believe in strongly, something that I believe can make a difference. There is great freedom in that choice. But there is also great responsibility and sacrifice. Dedicating one’s life to a purpose, project or passion requires a new skill set, a new way of managing time, energy and resources. These are skills that as of yet, I do not possess. I want to say yes to it all. I want to be all that I can be… all the time. I want to test the limits of possibility. I want to help everyone. I want health and happiness to be the norm. Ironically, it is these very well intentioned desires that have always been my downfall. I am constantly creating new branches without checking to see if the trunk can bear their collective weight. Some skills take longer to develop than others.

“You can be anything you want to be. You just can’t be everything you want to be all at once. That is what a lifetime is for.” – Randy Dean

When I first started this project over four years ago, my intention was to ask questions, test limits and create a positive example. Some time ago, I dropped the veil of eternal positivity and replaced it with transparency. I believe that you can learn as much from my failures as you can from my successes. In order to be a true and valid example, one must reveal all of their light and dark. Perhaps the real value of Running Raw has nothing to do with an athlete eating an uncooked, plant based diet, but rather with the trials of someone who goes to bed every night wanting to quit, and who wakes up every morning recommitting to something he does not think he can accomplish. Whatever the case may be, you can count on me telling it like it is… Even when I look the fool.

Hardy seeds were planted in 2009, now the time has come to tend the garden.

2010 To Do List:
• Find a manager to book and organize speaking events.
• Complete a book on diet and fitness.
• Complete a recipe book.
• Get the Running Raw Team off the ground
• Begin training for the mile.

The Race Report – The Chill of Victory and the Agony of the Feet:
“By the end of roughly an hour of stumbling and gasping my way through three miles of torture, I had learned what snowshoeing is really like – melting cold snow all over your body and the hardest work you’ll ever do to “run” at a 20 min/mile pace. But it’s also a heck of a lot of fun, which is why I’m looking forward my 5th season of snowshoe racing.” – Jamie Howard, WMAC participant

The new year started off with a bang as I entered my 3rd season of competing in the WMAC/Dion Snowshoe Race Series. With 51 total races, 18 of which are points races, this snowshoe series is now the largest in the world. To my advantage, the vast majority of the points races are within an hour of my house in Southern Vermont. In fact the first race of this year’s competition took place in the mountains behind my house in Woodford, VT. An exceptionally deep field of athletes from all over New England came out to start off this series with a bang. An all out sprint to the finish with overall series champion Jim Johnson of Salem, NH, earned me a close 2nd. Time and again this season, I have proven the power of a raw vegan diet by winning two series races and earning four more 2nd place finishes. With three more points races to go, I stand in 2nd place overall behind Jim Johnson, and have the Master’s (40 plus) title locked up with eight victories.

• Crave the Blizzard Snowshoe Race
Less than 24 hours after having returned home from the Greylock Glen Snowshoe race, I found myself back on the road to compete in the 4th WMAC/Dion Snowhoes series race – Brave The Blizzard in Guilderland, NY. Upon transitioning from the winter wonderland of Vermont into New York’s more temperate Hudson Valley, a color flashed into my mind – Brown. Brown as in dead grass, leafless trees and leaf covered forest floors. Brown as in no snow. The only white to be seen were the sparsely placed, white washed colonial farm houses that decorated my morning’s drive… Read The Full Post

• Empire State Character Building
If I were to choose one sport to define myself as an athlete, it would be stair climbing. As much as I love the challenge and scenery of mountain running and snowshoe racing, neither has impacted me as profoundly as running up the dim, dusty, and denatured stairwells of America. Ironically, it is the sport that I like the least. In fact, I dread it. My relationship with stair climb races could be summed up with the following statement – It is better to have climbed than to climb… Read The Full Post

• US National Snowshoe Championships
Tomorrow, the nation’s top snowshoe racers will converge on Syracuse, NY to compete in the 10th annual US Snowshoe Championships. Snowshoe racing has become one of America’s fastest growing sports, with new series popping up all over the country. Elite athletes from many different sporting disciplines have strapped on shoes to improve their Winter fitness. This year’s championships will be the most competitive in the event’s ten year history. With such a deep field of talent, I’m hoping that my preparation is enough to earn me a spot in the top 15 overall, and top 3 in the Master’s category (40+). Anything can happen over 6.2 miles of steep, hilly shoeing in deep white fluff.

Check out the course profile HERE – Insanely Hilly!

Running Raw  Apparel Sale!!
In order to raise funds for my trip to run the Big Climb in Seattle on March 21st, I’m lowering the price of Running Raw tees to $15 + shipping until March 15th. Now you can be green, save green and help me raise green by representing the Running Raw movement with a super comfortable, super sustainable, super cool Running Raw tee. Men’s and women’s styles are available. Due to pre-shrinkage, men please order one size larger, and women order two sizes larger than you would normally wear. You can check them out here – http://runningraw.com/store.html

New Lecture DVD Available:
As per your requests, I have created a DVD of my November 2009 talk entitled “Raw Myths, Magic and Misconceptions“.

What does “raw” really mean? Why are there so many differing and conflicting views of raw? How can one be confident that they have made the right choice? This lecture covers the latest scientific research and how it applies to raw diets of all types. Many of the myths and misconceptions of a raw diet will be busted in this talk.

The price of this DVD is $10 + shipping. To purchase this or any other DVD, click this link – http://runningraw.com/store.html

The Running Raw Buzz:
• Turn back the clock. My very first Running Raw interview, reposted on GLiving – http://gliving.com/tim-vanorden-explains-the-running-raw-project/ – SOOOO much has changed since then. I actually find this interview to be quite embarrassing, but it’s always good to go back and see where I came from.
• Vegan athletes profiled – http://www.chicagonow.com/blogs/chicago-eats-allergy-free/2010/01/to-be-vegan-or-not-and-some-athletes-who-are.html
• One of the contributors of Runner’s World magazine decided to drive up from NYC and enter last week’s WMAC/Dion Snowshoe race at Moody Springs. It was the toughest race I’ve done and my hardest fought victory – http://rwdaily.runnersworld.com/2010/03/karma-is-a-cruel-mistress.html#more-2222

The Training Log:
With the arrival of Winter comes the possibility of numerous cross-training activities. Instead of the constant pounding of running on roads, a new world of soft white bliss opens itself up to those willing to take on its challenges. Although my mileage has still remained on average under 30 miles a week, the time that I’ve been putting in has increased. Instead of speedy runs on the road, I choose to put on my big Winter boots or snowshoes and slog through the abundant ‘fluffo blanco’. This type of training may not increase leg turnover, but it supplies a massive boost to strength, endurance, and core durability.

Late December saw the beginning of the WMAC/Dion Snowshoe Race Series which gave me the opportunity to get extreme, weekly workouts on snowshoes. These races have helped me to race my way into phenomenal shape in a short period of time. If you want to build mental and physical endurance for running, as well as have a great time in an inspiring landscape, strap on a pair of snowshoes and up the ante.

In the last newsletter I mentioned the inclusion of a new training regimen called Tabata. I’m happy to announce that I have maintained this difficult exercise protocol and have seen rapid and consistent improvement each week. My strength has more than tripled since beginning this program in late September. Now only two months shy of my 42nd birthday, I am having my best results yet. The future of Running Raw is looking bright.

Here is an example of what a Tabata set looks like – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GWXsrQZ_ak

Upcoming Events:
• March 6th – National Snowshoe Championships – Syracuse, NY
• March 18th – Presentation in Seattle, WA – Diet & Peak Performance
• March 21st - Big Climb Seattle – The largest stair climb race in the world.
*** Please help me raise money for the Big Climb HERE
• March 21st – Presentation in Bellingham, WA – Diet & Peak Performance

**Possible March presentation dates in Vancouver, BC and Victoria, BC – Please check http://runningraw.com for details

Paying it Back and Forward:
Please support my sponsors Larabar, Nutiva, Blendtec, Dion Snowshoes, Garmin, Excalibur, and West Coast Labels.

Your Support:
Your donations help more than you can imagine. Even very small contributions help to pay for event registrations, travel, etc.! Thank you in advance for your support. Your generosity allows me to do what I do and hopefully touch lives in the process. You can make your donation through http://paypal.com to the address donate@runningraw.com. No amount is too little, and every dollar is greatly appreciated.

In Conclusion:
If you’re excited about Running Raw and would like to be a part of the team, please get in touch. I’m always looking for new contributors, technical help, sponsorship and enthusiastic athletes to help make this project all it can be.

Please pass this newsletter along to anyone that you think might be interested in this journey. If you have any suggestions on how to make runningraw.com better, please pass them along.

Thank you for your continued support.
With Love and gratitude

Tim VanOrden

Breakfast 7:00am – 3 hours before race start – 2 bananas

Less than 24 hours after having returned home from the Greylock Glen Snowshoe race, I found myself back on the road to compete in the 4th WMAC/Dion Snowhoes series race – Brave The Blizzard in Guilderland, NY

Upon transitioning from the winter wonderland of Vermont into New York’s more temperate Hudson Valley, a color flashed into my mind – Brown. Brown as in dead grass, leafless trees and leaf covered forest floors. Brown as in no snow. The only white to be seen were the sparsely placed, white washed colonial farm houses that decorated my morning’s drive.

I was considering turning around. My legs were pretty tired from the hills the day before, and I didn’t want to be running a trail race on frozen, uneven ground (a sure fire recipe for injury). Race Director, John Kinnicut assured me on the phone that there was sufficient snow to hold a snowshoe race. So I half heartedly forged on towards Albany. As I neared the race site, there was not a patch of white to be seen anywhere. I made a right hand turn into the elementary school parking lot and suddenly I was faced with a snow covered field. I sat in amazement for a second in my car before continuing on to the back of the school for parking. Lo and behold, there was plenty of snow behind the school as well, where the race would start and finish.

My CMS teammates Dave Dunham and Jim Johnson were just finishing their warmup as I walked towards registration. Dave told me that it was going to be a track meet out there. Super fast, hard packed conditions. Jim won this race in 2009, where he outclassed a very strong field by nearly two minutes. His streak of victories still unbroken this year, he hoped for another solid win on this flatter, faster  course.

I did a brief warmup and spotted Justin Bishop doing some strides in the field. He looked fast. Justin is one of the top runners in New York State and a 12 time gold medalist at the Empire State Games in snowshoeing. He also holds the American record in the Snowshoe 400 meter dash – 66 seconds! If anyone was going to threaten Jim’s winning streak, it was Justin. I was disappointed that I would not be able to witness the epic battle that would take place between these two snowshoeing greats.

Brave the Blizzard is one of the largest snowshoe races in the country, so I was sure that there were a lot of other top athletes in the mix today. The Albany Running Exchange, which puts on the event, boasts over 800 members, many of whom are active in the racing scene.

Jim, Dave and I did a few strides in the field as we waited for the start. I informed them of Justin’s presence and gave them a quick rundown of his resume. Jim became a little anxious.

We were lined up in the field and John Kinnicut gave us some last minute instructions. He informed us that there were a few “bare” patches out on the course and that we would be bushwhacking upon leaving the field at the start and on the return to the finish.

Ready, set, BANG! We were off. Justin shot out like a rocket propelled grenade. I was an immediately distant second. Above the loud cluster-crunching sound of hundreds of snowshoes kicking snow into the air I could hear Jim Johnson’s voice. “This is the worst race start I’ve ever had!” Then like a rabbit he shot by me in hot pursuit of Justin. Jim had no intention of staining his winning streak with a loss at this race.

When I was a kid in the early 70’s, my parents would take us to the beach on Cape Cod in Massachusetts. On one such trip, they took their eyes off of me for a moment and then looked up to discover that I had walked straight into the ocean and was about to go in over my head. I was two. Not much has changed in the nearly 40 years since that incident. I’m still getting in over my head on a regular basis. Perhaps I’m just not that bright. Whatever the case may be, I found myself sprinting to catch up to Justin and Jim.

As we left the field I had closed the gap and was right on Jim’s heels, who was right on Justin’s heels. The trail ended abruptly and we burst into the woods. Red ribbons tied to branches led us on a circuitous route up a very steep climb. We jumped over downed logs, danced around exposed rocks, straddled saplings and got whipped in the face, arms, neck and shoulders by the recoil of branches bent in front of us. I put my arms up to protect my face, like a boxer. After a few hundred feet of literally ‘breaking trail’ we were dumped out onto a more traveled route. The snow had been chopped up by walkers and skiers some time earlier and had frozen into a very solid, uneven mine field of ankle twisting possibilities. Justin did not slow down. He is a large man with broad muscular shoulders and he looked like a steam engine, confidently and effortlessly demonstrating power, speed and efficiency. Had their been anyone behind me, their view would not have been as striking. The breakneck pace was taking it’s toll on me.

The trail came to a T. A strategically placed snowman blocked the branch to the left, forcing us to make a sharp right. Brown flashed into my mind again. The path ahead was barren of snow and presented us with a mix of frozen sand and ice. The cleats of our snowshoes could not penetrate this tawny concrete, so they delivered their force upwards into the balls of our feet. Justin slowed. I moved back into contact. The sound of metal cleats bouncing off of the unforgiving trail surface rattled in my ears. The hard ground rattled my bones. In the distance, a blanket of white comfort lay in wait. We surged towards it, eager for this cacophony to end.

For the next mile, the scene remained the same. Justin commanding the lead, Jim on his heels and me holding on for dear life. Ahead of us a set of wooden stairs interrupted the smoothness of the snowy trail. Justin and Jim powered up like antelope. I lumbered up like a bison. I had bitten off more than I could chew and now it was time to digest the consequences of my earlier choices. I could only hope that I had enough in reserve to stay in 3rd as I drifted back and away from the leaders.

Letting them go took the pressure off. I relaxed a bit and began to run my own race. Who was I kidding anyways, these two men were in another league. It was time to accept the facts and settle into my rightful place. I was feeling more comfortable now and was confident that I could maintain this slower pace and hold on to my position. Fifty meters ahead of me Justin and Jim were blazing away. Forty-five meters. Forty meters. Thirty-five meters. Wait a minute… was I catching back up to them? I checked my breathing, moved it into my diaphragm, relaxed and lengthened my stride, smiled and set out to reinstate my place in the lead pack. Within minutes I was only 5 seconds back. Jim heard me coming and turned around. He didn’t like what he saw. I heard him say something to Justin and then turn around again. I was now only 4 seconds back and gaining fast.  Moments later I was on Jim’s heels.

We were coming close to the finish and Jim didn’t want another repeat sprint to the line like we had in Woodford a few weeks earlier. So he took off around Justin and made a break. Justin couldn’t keep up. For a moment, I thought about chasing after Jim but I was hurting again. The extra effort to bridge the gap had taken it’s toll, but now the seemingly indestructible Mr. Bishop was hurting as well. We hurtled through the woods with Jim quickly pulling away. Pressure was building in my stomach. My legs were teetering on the brink of failure. I was redlining.

Suddenly we were back on the bushwhack. The field and finish were in view. Jim had just cleared the woods and had entered the field. Justin picked up the pace as we headed down the steep grade through the trees. I got whipped hard in the face with a branch as I tried to keep up. I made a quick survey of the ground and then closed my eyes, lowered my head and charged forward.

As we entered the field, Justin was one step ahead. Jim was about 10 seconds up on us now and sprinting for the line. Justin opened up his gear box and pulled out his tremendous sprinting speed. I watched in awe, agony and defeat as he easily pulled away from the fastest gut bursting sprint I could muster. Seconds later we would be keeled over, breathlessly congratulating each other and sharing embraces. Jim had won by nine seconds in a time of 24:44. Justin took second in 24:53 and I posted a close third in 24:57. CMS teammate Dave Dunham would finish fourth, in 26:58.

All too often we predetermine our position in life and then act accordingly. Or we simply let others determine it for us and then do our best to meet their expectations, whether high or low. We set arbitrary limitations for ourselves and then view them as law. As fact. Any sensible person would tell you that a 41 year old Tim VanOrden, running 25 to 30 miles a week cannot compete with a 32 year old Jim Johnson running 80 miles a week… Or a 28 year old Justin Bishop, training hours a day for the World Double Decathlon Championships. Thankfully, I am not a sensible person. I have never accepted my place or rank as assigned. I always aspire to more. Nine times out of ten, I fail miserably. But it is that one time, when I rise to the occasion and beat the odds that makes it all worthwhile… and it reminds me that on any given day we are all capable of greatness – if we allow ourselves to leave our sensibility behind and risk it all for something we believe in.

Dare mighty things.

“Argue for your limitations, and sure enough they’re yours.” – Richard Bach

Breakfast: 6am (4 hours till the start) – 24oz Green Smoothie; Kale, Banana, Blueberry, Dulse, Raw Honey and well water.

With the Empire State Building Run Up (the unofficial world championships of stair climbing) only 2 weeks away, my training has been fast and furious. Normally, I would take it easy leading up to a weekend with back to back snowshoe races, but with the ESB looming large I’ve had to push myself to the limit and beyond.

Needless to say, my legs were spent before I even toed the line in Adams, MA at the Greylock Glen snowshoe race on Saturday. Based on my performance on the steep climbs at the Turner Trail snowshoe race last weekend, I was not expecting a great result. The steep, mile long climb at Greylock Glen would be a quad buster and my quads were already busted.

This race was sure to attract a top field of athletes from around New England being the 3rd race in the highly competitive WMAC/Dion Snowshoe series. An ever increasing number of standout road and track runners have been showing up at these events looking to test their mettle in a new ‘running’ discipline. Shortly before the start, I spotted my CMS teammates,  Jim “undefeated” Johnson warming up with top master Dave Dunham and trail powerhouse Tim Mahoney. Further surveillance detected 2009 Wildman Biathlon winner Ross Krause doing sprints on the road, clad in biking attire. Out of the corner of my eye I spied a pair of lean, efficient ‘gazelles’ swiftly approaching on their warmup. As they moved closer I recognized one of them as top trail runner and track standout Greg Hammett. They stopped, we shared hellos and Greg said “do you know Mark?”. I shook Mark’s hand and then it quickly dawned on me – This was Mark Miller. The same Mark Miller that won the New England trail running championships in 2008 and 2009 and has clocked 4:02 in the mile and 14:18 for 5k. My mind started to do quick calculations and concluded that I’d be lucky to crack the top 8 in this race.

As we lined up at the start, WMAC’s Ed Alibozek gave us the pre-race details – Follow the red tape, follow the yellow arrows, do not cross the yellow tape, and watch out for the bridge crossing – there are planks missing and you could fall through. Ready. Set. Go!

Race favorite, Jim Johnson burst into the lead with Mark Miller hot on his trail. Greg Hammett tucked in behind them and I moved into 4th. The pace was very fast. The bridge crossing proved to be quite  treacherous as we danced on our snowshoes trying to miss the gaps and avoid certain injury, but yet maintain pace. Jim and Mark gradually pulled ahead. I could see them trade off the lead a good 20 seconds in front of me. Greg was falling off the pace, but was still 12 seconds ahead. Then we hit the climb.

The trail was steep. So steep that Jim and Mark were within shot put distance in front of me. Greg split the difference. Jim’s legs were working away at the mountain like two pistons firing. Mark was trying to hang on but could not keep up the run and started power walking. Greg saw this and started walking himself. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My legs were on fire, but I picked up the pace, not about to miss this opportunity. I knew the hill would be done in about 6 minutes, which is not much longer than the torturous 5 minute Tabata sets I’ve been doing in training. So I bore down, gritted my teeth and ran. I quickly caught up to Greg and passed him. He offered a breathy “Go Tivo!”. Mark was now in my sights. I was closing the gap quickly. As the trail snaked around a switchback, I glanced back and saw that Dave (King of the climbs) Dunham was making ground on me and closing the gap. I pushed harder. The trail got steeper… and steeper. My legs screamed. My stomach was doing all that it could to hold my green smoothie breakfast down. Then we burst out of the single track and onto a snowmobile trail – heading down. Mark was only 5 seconds in front of me and he was laboring.

Filled with a sense of excitement, I charged after Mark with all the speed my wet noodle legs could muster. Never had I imagined that I’d be sprinting after a legend like Mark in a race. One might imagine that running downhill is easier than running uphill. From a metabolic (energy required) perspective this is quite true, but from a muscular perspective it’s the exact opposite. The force of impact on the quad muscles while running downhill is SEVERAL TIMES the force experienced while running uphill. Downhills tear the quads to shreds as the muscles instinctively try to put on the brakes. In other words, there is no recovery for the legs. Mark kept his distance on me, but was not pulling away. Suddenly the trail pitched down at a slope of 35 percent or more. I launched myself down the hill with reckless abandon hoping to gain a few seconds on Mark who was far more cautious. When I reached the bottom of the steep pitch and the course leveled out, I did not. The intense gravitational forces of my blitz had compressed my legs and nearly drove me into a squatting position. I could not stand upright. My legs were done. I shuffled for a bit and gradually got my legs to straighten, but their strength was gone. I could hear the chatter of snowshoes behind me and then like the sound of a train going by Greg Hammett flew past. The race was nearly over, but I was really struggling. There would be no end of race kick. My wobbly legs barely got me across the bridge crossing as we headed back up to the finish line.

Jim Johnson crushed the field. Mark was nearly a minute behind him in second. Greg was third 24 seconds behind Mark and I was another 17 seconds back in 4th place. Despite a wrong turn, Dave Dunham posted a solid 5th. I was very excited to have hung on to these amazing athletes as long as I did. A 4th place finish in this field was a huge accomplishment. But the weekend was not over and come Sunday morning I’d be back on the shoes again to face off against an amazing crew of New York athletes at the Brave The Blizzard snowshoe race.

Post race: 4 bananas, 1 orange.

Results can be seen here: http://www.coolrunning.com/results/10/ma/Jan16_Greylo_set1.shtml

GPS course profile here: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/22480885 – Click the “Elevation” tab at the bottom to see the vertical profile of the course.

Two years ago, I had my first taste of New England mountain running at the Loon Mtn. race. I had been running for only 6 months at that point, and had somehow managed to move into the front pack of California’s mountain running scene. So naturally I thought I’d take a shot at making the US Mountain Running Team. I selected the Loon Mtn. Race because it was a qualifier for the US Team and I wouldn’t have to contend with the altitude of the Colorado qualifiers. It was also not far from my family’s home in Vermont. At first glance of the topo map, Loon appeared to be a rather small mountain compared to what I was used to running up in CA, so I thought I had this one in the bag. Well, the only bag that I had anything in was a barf bag. Loon crushed me with the weight of it’s infamously steep, never-ending climbs, as did the field of elite New England mountain runners. That’s when I realized two things – I was not nearly as fast as I had thought, AND New England has the toughest mountain runners in the United States. Two years after that brutal introduction, I was back to face the monster once again.

In the two years since, my running has improved by leaps and bounds. Going into this race, I was ranked 3rd overall in the USATF New England Mtn. Running Series, and ranked 1st in the Master’s division. The legendary Dave Dunham was coming hard on my heels only a point and a half behind. I would need to be within 30 seconds of Dave at the finish in order to hold on to my lead. There was only one problem – Dave’s specialty is LONG, GRUELING climbs that never seem to end.

I drove over to Lincoln, NH a day early to help the Race Director Paul Kirsch mark the course along with Dave D. The three of us had done an 8 mile run a few hours earlier and now had the task of hiking the 5.5 mile uphill course carrying flags. I was a little worried that I might be expending too much energy the day before the race, but Dave was the man to beat, and he was there with me step for step.

The course reminds me of the ‘bait and switch’ tactics of a sleazy electronics salesmen. It starts out with half a mile of relatively flat access road, which lures the faster and less experienced runners out to a fast start. The wiser competitors realize that the race is won on the last hill and not in the 1st half mile, so they ease into the pace. It’s not long before you are ascending a 20% slope (most roads over mountain passes are usually between 7% to 9% slope). The second tease arrives in the form of a 200m downhill around mile 2. Once again, the less experienced racers see this as an opportunity to speed up and make some ground on the runners ahead of them… the wise old runners see this as an opportunity to catch their breath, because they know what comes after this short respite – a mile and a half of constant uphill at 17 to 25% grades. This is where the men are separated from the boys.

At long last you can hear the cheers of the crowd as you crest the hill and burst out on top of the mountain… but wait, you have to climb TWO mountains in this race!! Unlike Mt. Washington, there is more than one hill. After you splash yourself with water and run by the eventual finish line you plummet quite severely down a 30% grade, dropping 100 feet in a matter of seconds. The downhill then becomes a more gradual 10% and continues for nearly half a mile. Again, the new runners will try to make ground here, thinking the bulk of the race is over. The course makes a very sharp right hand turn, the downhill abruptly ends and you are faced with the one of the most frightening sights you will ever see – A black diamond ski trail called “Upper Walking Boss”. This trail rises up like an impenetrable wall for half a mile in front of you. The average grade is 30%, but it reaches an impossibly steep slope of 45% in several sections. This is the point were all the hotshots in the beginning of the race end up as roadkill on the side of the trail (if that didn’t already happen on the first mountain ascent). While I was walking up this section of the trail as we marked the course I said to Paul and Dave, “I don’t think I can go up this hill any faster than I am right now”. They laughed, but they knew I wasn’t far from the truth.

When you do finally crest the top of the second peak on legs so wobbly that they can barely support your weight, you are greeted with half a mile of blisteringly steep downhill over grass, dirt, rocks, stream washes, and my favorite – water bars. Water bars help to divert rain water as it flows down the trail so as to prevent erosion. But when they are meeting your feet at 25 miles an hour they act like little bmx bike jumps, sending you flying into the air out of control hoping that you can land on your feet and avoid injury. That last downhill tears your quads to pieces, smashes your toes into the front of your shoes, blackens any remaining good toenails, and blisters the bottoms of your feet. But you are still not done. Remember that abrupt 100 foot drop after you crested the first peak? Well, it now stands between you and the finish line. Time to suck it up, pray that you can keep your breakfast down, and dig deep, deeper than you thought you could ever dig… the fans lining the course yell, “you’re almost there!!!”, and you wonder if the destination they are referring to is Hell. A few seconds later, you are done, literally done. But it won’t be long before you are looking out over the spectacular view with friends and fellow comrades sharing war stories of the toughest race you’ve ever done.

The men’s field looked like a who’s who of New England mountain running legends. There was Eric Blake, two time National mountain running champion (’06, ‘08), and two time winner of the Mount Washington Road Race (’06, ‘08) – Eric Morse, who holds mountain running course records all over the US, and who has been in the top 5 on Mt. Washington 10 times – Craig Fram, who has won Mt. Washington and been in the top 3 another 4 times – Kevin Tilton a two time member of the US Mtn. running team – Justin Fyffe who won the Cranmore Hill Climb a week earlier and who leads the New England Mtn. Running Series – Todd Callaghan who’s ranked 2nd in the N.E. Mtn. Series – Jim Johnson who finished a very close 3rd at Cranmore and who cranked a 1:10 in his first Mt. Washington appearance – David Herr, who finished 10th in the ‘07 US Mtn. Championships, and clinched the top Master’s spot – and let’s not forget 4 time Mt. Washington winner and 7 time US Mtn. Running Team member, Dave Dunham.

The torrential downpour at Cranmore the week before would have been a welcome addition at the start of the race, but instead we faced the blazing sun and 80 degree temps. A few of the wiser runners soaked themselves in the ice cold mountain waters of the Pemigewasset River before the start.

When the gun went off, so did the lead pack, and I wasn’t in it. I knew the level of competition that was in the race and I was well aware that I was outclassed by many in attendance. My plan was to run my own race and start out conservatively… and I stuck to it. The first few miles were uneventful. I was feeling strong and in great position. Ahead in the distance I could see Eric Blake, Craig Fram, Eric Morse, and Justin Fyffe battling for the top spot. I was glad I was not in that fight. At mile 3 I began to tire on the first of the monster climbs, so I backed off the pace a bit. This gave Dave Dunham the opportunity he needed to reel me in… and that he did. He went by me quickly, putting as much time as he could on me and hoping to discourage an attempt to stay with him. It worked. My heart rate was high, and I knew that this climb went on for another mile without a break, so I kept my current pace and watched Dave slowly pull away. I reached the summit of South Loon Mtn. feeling strong and confident. Paul Kirsch informed me that Dave was only 30 seconds ahead of me, but with the worst climbing yet to come, there was little chance that I would catch him. This was Dave’s kind of race. As we marked the course the day before, Dave had told me that he was going to run the last hill in it’s entirety. I didn’t think that was possible, but he informed me that he had done just that the year prior. The screaming 1/2 mile downhill from the top of South Loon to the base of “Upper Walking Boss” allowed me to make up some ground on Dave. As I turned the corner to face the beast, I could see the all the runners in front of me. With the exception of Eric Blake who put the hammer down and ran away from the field, everyone looked rather close. That’s the trick of this last hill. Someone can be 100 feet in front of you, but that translates to 40 seconds of climbing time. A runner 100 meters in front of you is nearly two minutes ahead. I looked up to see Dave running well and making ground on much better runners (well, better on every course but this one). Most of the other racers were power walking, so I took this opportunity to make up some ground by running as much as I could. I made it a third of the way up the hill before my legs begged me to stop and start my hunched over wobbly legged version of a power walk. That was enough running for me to gain significant ground on a few of the runners in front of me. I got even lower and extended the length of each stride on my power walk. Half way up the hill I could see that Dave was no longer running, but he was moving steadily ahead of me. I shifted my focus to David Herr and Jim Johnson in front of me. In all of our meetings I have never beaten either of them, and I was very surprised when I passed both of them two-thirds of the way up. They had gone out too hard and were paying the price. Next in my line of sight was Kevin Tilton and Craig Fram. Again, both runners have easily defeated me in every race up until this point, but I was determined to tackle this hill as best I could and leave nothing left when it was done. Holding down the vomit in my throat as I crested the summit, I quickened the pace. Craig was only a few feet in front of me, and Kevin was no more than 20 meters. The brutally steep downhill that followed would be quite dangerous at full speed on exhausted legs, but I knew that’s where I could make my move. So I did. I flew by Craig in mid air as I pressed off a water bar in the trail. In the next death defying 700 meters I would put a minute and 30 seconds on him. Kevin Tilton took the same reckless approach that I did and held me off to the finish. I had run one hell of a race. Finishing 7th, in a field of superstars was beyond my expectations. I knew that I had slipped from my top spot in the Master’s division and moved into 4th overall behind Dave Dunham, but I didn’t care. Dave had a phenomenal race, and totally outperformed me. He is truly a king of the mountains.

When it was all said and done, several of the toughest men ever to run up a mountain were laid to waste. Spirits and bodies were broken… and best efforts were just not good enough. A mountain like that changes you forever… it takes a part of you… it steals your courage and hides it somewhere on “upper walking boss” in a patch of wild strawberries and indian paint brushes… taunting you and waiting for you to come back and try to reclaim it next year.

But there are also those indomitable New England spirits that thrive on such an extreme challenge and only dig deeper when the mountain throws it’s very best at them. They are heroes in my book. The same type of damn yankees that didn’t back down from a fight when this country was born 232 years ago, even when the odds were stacked against them.

To see a Video of the race, Click HERE

To see a Video of the Course, Click HERE

“Everyone should have people that inspire them. For some people it’s world leaders, for others it’s baseball, basketball or football players. For me, it’s elite mountain runners.”
- Paul Kirsch (Race Director)

Last week’s race at Mt. Washington left me reeling in more ways than one. Not only did it turn the tables on my pre-race eating strategy, but it shattered my confidence as a mountain runner – AND it was filmed on national television. The stress of everything coming to a head at once was more than I could handle. The Food Network show, the constant growth of Running Raw, the training, and the twice weekly races had taken their toll on me. Tuesday was hot, humid, rainy and gloomy. It was not a day for new beginnings, it was a day that left me with some very troubling questions – Should I quit? Should I terminate the Running Raw Project? Should I stop running? Should I run and hide? It’s hard to have a healthy perspective when you feel like your world has been turned upside down. It was impossible for me to see that I had just finished shooting a prime-time (8pm Saturday night) national television show on a network that saw raw food as a four letter word and wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. It was impossible for me to see that I was still ranked as the number 1 master’s mountain runner in the New England Mountain Running Series, and it was impossible to see that most people that follow this project don’t care if I win, they are just amazed that I’m doing it at all. Two days before the Cranmore race my friends and family finally convinced me to give it one more try, to make some adjustments, to continue the experiment.

Pre-race nerves have always been a problem for me, and they begin the day before the race. It is very rare that I get a good night’s sleep the night before an event. Knowing this, I have purposefully eaten a light meal early in the evening on race night. The following morning I would continue with light fare (fruit) and hope that I could avoid nausea in the race. My fueling strategy was based not on my knowledge of diet and performance, but on fear and nerves. This has been working great in my tower races and in 5k races where the events don’t last long enough for one to run out of fuel, but for longer races and especially for mountain races where the physical stress endured per minute is far greater than running on flat ground, my fueling strategy was a recipe for disaster.

Saturday night I ate as much as I could till 10pm – fruit and sprouted whole grains. I awoke 6am Sunday morning and continued with fruit and sprouted whole grains – MUCH more than I have ever eaten before a race – perhaps 4 times as much. An hour before the event started, I still felt full, but this was all part of the experiment.

In 2007, mountain running legend Dave Dunham stated that the Cranmore Hill Climb was the toughest race he’s ever done. That’s no small statement considering that Dave has done nearly 100 mountain races around the world and been on the US Mtn. Running Team 7 times. The name of this race is somewhat of a misnomer, as it’s hardly a “hill” climb. Running up 1,100 vertical feet in 1 3/4 miles on dirt access roads and black diamond ski slopes, then running at break-neck speed down the other side AND then repeating the course one more time on wobbly legs just doesn’t invoke the image of a “hill” in my mind. A hill is something that you drive over on the way to Grandma’s house. This is by all definitions, a mountain, and the only thing that was consistently climbing throughout the race was my heart rate. It climbed to new heights as I struggled to keep the pace up the 30% incline of the black diamond ski slope that loomed like an impenetrable wall for the last 1/4 mile of the ascent. It climbed still higher as I began the tortoruous descent on exhausted wet noodle legs. The fear of being completely out of control and moving at speeds in excess of 20 miles an hour through rocks, roots, wet grass and mud is intense. You are nothing more than a puppet to gravity’s will. There is no choice but to surrender your body to the momentum of the mountain and hope that you don’t fall.

In M. Night Shyamalan’s film “Unbreakable“, a diabolical character by the name of Mr. Glass engineers disasters on planes, trains and buildings, hoping that some one special person will rise unharmed from the ashes. A hero, or better yet, a super hero. After competing twice now at the Cranmore Hill Climb, I have to wonder if race director Paul Kirsch has a similar (but less evil) intent – to create “killer” courses, and to make legends of those that conquer them with ease…. to push people beyond their limits in hope that a hero will rise.

When the race was over, that hero would be Justin Fyffe from Dummerston, VT, who dismissed the beast 1:41 faster than runner up and hometown favorite Kevin Tilton, of North Conway, NH. Jim Johnson turned in another heroic performance, finishing in 3rd place only 4 seconds behind Kevin and after badly spraining his ankle at the top the of the last descent. After the race he offered this – “I ran in some pain, but I just had to suck it up”. I too have come to admire and greatly respect elite mountain runners. They are a different breed. They don’t shy away from an extreme challenge or from hardship, they run headfirst straight into it, fight their best fight and come out smiling on the other end. What would the world be like if everyone took this approach?

For me it was also a day to shine. My new fueling experiment had worked and I had plenty of gas in my tank to duke it out with top master’s runner Dave Dunham to the finish. We drove each other hard on the monster climbs, with Dave leaving me beaten and drooling a few meters behind him on the second ascent. But I put it all on the table for the final descent and beat him to the finish line. Oddly enough it was a combination of the most pain and the most fun I’ve had in a race. As the New England Mountain Running Series comes down to it’s final 2 races, Dave and I are neck and neck for the top master’s spot, with me edging him by just a point and a half. In the overall series I’ve managed to move into the number 3 spot, with Dave again just a point and a half back in 4th. The last two races are going to be really exciting.

To see a Video of the race, Click HERE