The Same But Different!

A week after logging my second 50 miler, I am still  struck by how different two equal elements can be from each other.  A quick glance of each run would indicate some striking similarities: Both were 50 miles in length, they both climbed just shy of 10,000 feet, both were in California, and both were hard!  Outside of these somewhat overly generic similarities the comparison goes in a very different direction.  As I previously wrote about, the first 50 was a race and a solo effort.  The second time for that distance was not solo, and I wasn't racing.  Which has, even me asking, one simple thing, why?

Over the weekend of July 16 and 17, I paced my buddy, Jason, for the final 50 miles of the Tahoe Rim Trail 100.  It was his first 100 and my first experience with a long night-time pacing duty.  I picked up Jason at the 50 mile mark at about 4:30 on Saturday afternoon.  He was tired and in need of some calories, but for the most part ready to go.  We took off at a "2nd 50 mile" pace and settled into joking conversation and good forward progress.  It soon dawned on my what I had actually signed up for.  I was not only going to need to look after myself but I was also going to have to keep tabs on someone else who was getting more and more tired and punch drunk with each mile.  We made in through the first big climb and first couple aid stations in good time, spirit and condition.  After our first trip through the Tunnel Creek Aid Station we headed out on the Red House loop.  This included a pretty awesome drop in altitude and then the climb back up.  Our goal was to complete this loop prior to the night turning dark.  Although I symbolically held off turning on my headlamp until we returned to Tunnel Creek Aid Station, it was clear that this stretch really began our long night of running.  From Tunnel Creek we continued out the Diamond Peak Loop.  Here I became the brain for someone else.  By the time we finished the drop down to Diamond Peak lodge, it was clear, I was the only one eating on this run.  Getting calories into Jason turned into my primary focus.  The flip side of this was that I was not nearly as aware of the steep climb as I may have otherwise been.  I was shocked to see how Jason responded to some food!  Getting some calories down and then the climb behind us, we were running again and running well!  I detailed a very strict nutritional plan for him for each aid station.  Back at Tunnel Creek, we had 18 to go, seemed like we were almost home. In retrospect, 18 to go is nowhere near home!    Jason stuck firm to the nutritional plan, I only failed at not including a hydration component to his plan.  This wouldn't catch up with him until post race, although it is clear that in the last miles the failure to keep both food and water coming in took a toll on both of us.  With about 8 miles to go we were witnesses to a spectacular sunrise shedding light and a new day on the Lake Tahoe Basin.  Even fatigued, this event did not go unnoticed, we both stopped and took it all in...in a word -  spectacular.  Feeling a bit small in the cosmic sense of it all we dropped off of Snow Peak and headed for home, in the daylight again.  No one came by us, we never really stopped to rest, but there wasn't much talking and it was clear finishing was all that either of us really had in mind.  And with that we finished.  For my runner, his first 100, a top 20 finish, a really cool belt buckle, and a need to rehydrate.  For me...well that is the odd part, we crossed the line and after logging 50 miles I kinda wondered off and headed for home.  How odd?  That need/desire/obligation to finish my duties pushed me to get Jason a chair, some food, and liquids.  He had some family there and after a bit, it was clear my job was done.  So, I drove home.  It was kind of surreal to have run so far and not have it be in connection with another result or even a race shirt.  It was a great experience and a great event.  Driving home it felt like I had just been out for a training run.  When I got home and tried to get out of the car, it was clear this had been a bit more than a training run.  But what it was exactly, well I am still working on that.  Needless to say, I got some miles in, which is always good.

To get back to my initial question: Why?
The simple answer was that Jason needed a pacer and I knew I could do the distance.  But that would be only a partial truth.  I am still fascinated by getting out there and doing it, whatever "it"  may be.  It hurt, actually hurt a lot, but it felt really good to ask the body and mind to perform and have them do such.  So why do it?  I don't really know other than to say, I am more interested in trying to do it than to stay and home and wonder what it would be like.  I don't think there is a balance out there, instead I think the scale is more of a teeter-totter going back and forth, keep it going but don't fall off!

One foot in front of the other, repeat

Hope Reborn

Maybe I am just a cheap date, but watching stage 1 of the 2011 Tour de France kindled a smoldering flame within for professional cycling.  Although still marred with the ugly truths, lies, and tales of doping, todays race was indeed just that, a race!  Prying my eyes open with toothpicks, I was there at 5:00am for all the splendor of the opening day of the greatest stage race on earth!  After months of news stories that read more like WWF fodder than cycling, I wondered why I even bothered to watch today.  And yet today, the race favorites got complacent riding mid pack and lost time in a crash and the greatest strong man on a bike couldn't sustain an attack within the last kilometer.  Clean or not, to my eyes, it was a bike race, where anything could happen at any moment.  The result of an exciting day one will hopefully be a Tour full of unpredictable twists and turns.

Watching today's stage reminded me of those things that I find most compelling in endurance pursuits.  The excitement of just a few seconds can carry you for hours, days or weeks to follow. In no way was the Tour de France won today.  However, those who think they can win are all now set to task.  That all so common cycling term of turning oneself "inside out" to get through the stage will be the metaphor for now.  The fitness factor has been diminished and the mark of man has been elevated.  Will those who lost time be willing to fight to get that time back?  Will the beneficiaries of todays split be able to hold on to the advantage?  Anything can happen at any moment and the heart will play a vital role in the determination of victor.  Digging within the soul is the reason we ask so much of the body, heart and mind.  It is impossible to know what gems of the soul exist if you don't go digging for them.  Reluctantly, I am back in the role of superfan, waiting to see who will be willing to dig the deepest.

All this early morning talk and action has me itching for a ride.  I wonder how high up the snow has cleared on Mormon Emigrant Trail?  Looks like it is time to do some shallow digging and see what kind of effort I can summon up today.

One foot in front of the other, repeat!