Runners Report! (Trails are almost open)

Running this time of year, for many of us with blood type 'Trail', comes with a familiar routine.  Nearly every year I go through a transition. In talking to other running friends with similar blood disorder, I discover I am not alone.  We have accepted pavement as our means to sustain an aerobic fitness.  We maintained. Some even gained a few pounds.  These late winter and early spring days in New England however bring with them retreating snow lines. What was once feet of snow, is reduced to inches in a matter of days or a couple of weeks. Grey skies are now frequently replaced with beaming sunshine, and the days become noticeably longer. Runners can sense the difference in seconds from a sunrise & sunset from one day to the next.  We 'stalk' our trail entry locations.  We stare it down while running and driving by.  We assess the amount of snow. We project when it will be gone, down to the day.  We wait for the moment we self proclaim that the trails are 'open', and like all eager athletes, we 'report in'.  These are the days of playful slop.  We arrive home from our trail run, with orders from family to leave our mud crusted shoes and socks outside. It is still too cold to rinse outside with a hose. In most cases, the hose still hasn't limbered up from it's coiled position.  Quite similar to how my extremities feel.  My eagerness for early warm spring days always results in a few under-dressed runs, where an immediate hot shower is required in order for me to regain some form of elasticity.  We become re-familiarized with the trail stride, inconsistent stride length, lateral motion, loose footing, etc. With a racing season already inked onto the calendar, the play eventually dissipates and I find myself drafting my spring and summer training plan. This transition period from the winter 'off-season' to the beginning of open trail season reminds me of another familiar and exciting period.  "Pitchers and Catchers report!"  Spring ball.  Players begin their transition from a winter of conditioning, by arriving in sunny Florida / Arizona for training.  A playfulness is in the air, especially during the first few days/weeks.  Eventually it is down to business.

Day Two of Weekend in the White Mountains

Chief Editor is pissed that I am nearly a month late on this release.

Fire me.

 My main running ultra distance running partner (Sean) & I have talked about what really gets us excited with trail running. Both of us don't have long term plans to race ultras years from now. This doesn't mean we will give up on running long distances. The most enjoyment I receive from running is on long, ultra distances, on small group epic training runs. I see my future planning my training season targeting remote runs - think New Zealand. Think Patagonia. The freedom to run without any concern of a cut-off, be dynamic with ad hoc trail selection, and even stops to soak in the views, allows me to enjoy those runs more than a well organized and structured race.

 The day after our successful Mt Washington summit. I was ready to take on more. With a bit of over-confidence, I noted to Sean that I would like more of a challenge. I knew I was fortunate with conditions on our Saturday hike. Simply put, I didn't feel that I had exerted myself much, or that I had approached a personal limit. I was hungry to get closer to the edge of my capabilities. I wanted to feel uncomfortable.

 After a weather check for Sunday, we agreed to make an attempt to summit Mt Madison (5,367 feet). Forecast called for snow overnight and into the morning hours. It appeared conditions at the summit could present some white out conditions - something I wanted to experience. We were cautious however.  We were both ready for conditions to be too risky, and mentally prepared for an early retreat and an afternoon of local snowshoeing.

 Sunday morning greeted us with nearly 8 inches of light and puffy snow, but also clear blue skies overhead. We took our time heading to the northern presidential range, and enjoyed breakfast at a local eatery. The later than normal start didn't bother either of us, as we didn't have any high expectations for the day's accomplishments. As drove up, approaching 9AM, we saw that the clouds had engulfed both Mt Madison and Mt Adams peaks.

"You are going to get what you wanted Steve", Sean noted.

 From the parking lot at the base of the mountain, we could see there was plenty of clear sky overhead, just not at the summit. It was also noticeably warmer. Aware of this, we packed a little lighter, expecting summit conditions to be as high as 25 degrees (balmy compared to the day prior). Sean put on his snowshoes, while I was forced to leave mine behind (Dion racer's don't fit winter hiking boots). This proved to be a pivotable difference between how much energy each of us used during the ascent. The 4 mile hike up to the Madison Sprint hut was all single track, and started out with fairly compact snow from the recent back country skiers, snowshoers, and hikers. My boots, with Kahtoola spikes, were adequate for the first 2 miles. Shortly after the half way point however, the trail wasn't as firm, and I begun postholing. Sean, with his snowshoes, was forced to stop on several occasions to check on me and allow me to catch up. The next two miles were quite a workout. I enjoyed it, but on occasion vocalized my frustration at my inability to maintain any sort of forward progress.

 As we neared Madison Spring Hut (4,800 feet), we became aware that the cloud cover was now below us. Crystal clear blue skies were around us. With very little wind, and warm temperatures (estimate 25 deg), I recognized the unbelievable fortune I had this weekend with conditions. Today's condition was an extreme rarity. Once we saw the hut, and with a little more excitement in our steps, we started to move more quickly. The snow around the hut was extremely compact, which further electrified us.

It was time to play!

Close to Madison Spring Hut.  Warm out!

 Sean removed his snowshoes at the hut, and as if we were in an ultra, we quickly took in nutrition and dropped off unnecessary gear. I would leave my backpack at the hut, and Sean would remove several items from his bag. With a lighter pack (or no pack in my case), we would be able to move very quickly up and down Mt Madison. Each of us expressed our interest in tapping two peaks today - Mt Adams was now on our radar, but only if we could move fast.

Fast is our thing.

View of Mount Quincy Adams

 From the hut, Mt Madison is a 1 mile round trip rocky ascent/descent. Mt Adams is a 2 mile round trip, with identical terrain. Fortunately for us, the gaps between the boulders was snow packed. Our speed hike up Mt Madison was a warm-up. We couldn't hold back our excitement. We were bursting. Equate it to that first moment you walked into Disneyland - where you had a little bounce in your step and your eyes are quickly scanning the surrounds. Overstimulated. Smile exploding on your face. We were in our Disneyland. It took us 20 minutes to cover the half mile ascent (~567 feet elevation gain) to the summit.  Once on the summit, we took our time and went photo crazy. Clear blue around us, with a very bright and warm sun above. Clouds below, and smashing into side of Mt Jackson and Mt Washington. Our pause at the summit was much longer than we both had anticipated, but it was well worth it.

Making up time.

 As we started the descent, we both started to jog. Between us, Sean is the better downhill trail runner. One of the best that I know actually, especially on technical trail. As all my friends are aware, I am very tentative once a trail becomes rocky. I have a lengthy history of serious ankle sprains. This wasn't a spot where I'd welcome another. Sean quickly burst by, and we agreed to meet at the hut in a few minutes. This was the first time either of us really had a chance to run off road since late December/early January. My timid running approach gradually subsided, and I began to open up on the trail. Despite a few pauses on the most technical sections, I started to maintain the 50 meter separation between us. The folks at the hut, must have been quite confused at the hooting and hollering, and seeing two nuts running down the side of the Mt Madison.  The 1/2 mile return took just under 10 minutes.

Mt Adams studio.

View from Mt Adams of Mt Washington

 After a very brief refueling stop at the hut, we looked up Mt Adams (5,794 feet). The run sparked something. Competitive juices. Not against each other, but against the 5 souls hiking up the mountain ahead of us. How quickly can we catch them? We moved swiftly, mixing in fast explosive hiking with bursts of running the possible. One, two, three....gobbled up in minutes. We had closed nearly a 1/4 to 1/3 mile on these hikers within minutes, while climbing a snow packed covered mountain, at 5,500 feet! Bam. It wasn't long before we passed everybody ahead of us. Each of us continued to scan the terrain for the fastest descent path for our return trek. We reached the summit quickly, covering the 1 mile, 1,000 foot ascent in just over 30 minutes. High fives and a hug ensued. We were both quite proud of this weekend, having tagged three summits on a weekend we prayed we could just bag Mt Washington. Our stay at Mt Adams summit was brief, as the winds had increased, and temperatures dropped. A few photos, before our phenomenal descent all the way to our car began. The downward trek from the summit to the hut was almost exclusively running. I'll admit, Sean made it look like dancing amongst the rocks. Fluid. Smooth. Powerful. We flew past the ascending hikers, who by now knew how nuts we were and provided us encouragement. The 1 mile descent from Mt Adams summit the hut would have been quicker than our final watch reading (35 minutes), if it wasn't for my gaff and pauses for videos.

 Half way down, we agreed to do a quick video shot. After we found the ideal trail section, we each went our separate ways. Sean hiked up the trail to where he wanted to start, while I went off trail to find the best vantage point to record from. Once I arrived at my perch, I dug for my camera. My heart paused when I discovered my pocket was already open. Then came the outburst of profanity as I couldn't find my camera. Heather bought the camera for me, as this year's surprise christmas gift. Panic was now rolling through me, as I checked all my pockets and found nothing. I hollered at Sean to join me, where I broke the news. Without even discussing it, he turned and started to hike back UP Mt Adams. Our excitement now purged, we ascended, scanning the trail with little hope of finding it. After a few minutes, Sean suggested we check the down jacket I wore at the summit. Initially I rejected the idea - but conceded as it wouldn't hurt. As he kneeled, I dug through his pack. First finding my down jacket, and then finding feeling the hard surface of my camera. Another cheerful moment, and another hug. Once I regrouped, it was back to our spots for an epic video shot.


 From the hut, we had 4 miles of downhill ahead of us.  Retracing our steps from the ascent march earlier the day.   Both of us were eager to bomb this section by running the entire length.  This meant postholing with some momentum. We killed it, with smiles!  We averaged 13mpm, after having hiked 7 miles and nearly 7,000 feet of total elevation gain that day. My legs felt great, and this day had turned into one of those epic training days. This is what inspires me to get out the door and train regularly, so that I can do something so challenging without a moments hesitation.

 Get out there and explore your limits. You will be surprised by what you find as you can do more than you expect, and experience more than most. Enjoy life and conquer the unknown.

Soaking it in on Mt Madison

 Garmin:  https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/704211866

Success Story of Periodization

Quick Note today:

In the attached article about a running and coaching legend Alberto Salazar's handling of Mary Cain, the following paragraph jumped out to me.  It is a foundational element of my training and coaching philosophy. The term I use that is more common is "Periodization".  This is why I am talk about rest and recovery being very important. While resting the strained system, it will adapt to the stress and become stronger, faster, or more efficient.  It is also why I prescribe program training variances so that we strain and rest different mechanical and energy systems.  One day would be more anaerobic / lactic threshold minded, and then followed by a long slow aerobic recovery run.  

"From the moment Salazar started coaching Cain, he set out to develop her talent slowly over the course of many years, building her up and holding her back as necessary, aiming for her to peak when most female track runners peak, around age 25. All athletic training depends upon a careful balance of physical stress and rest and is governed by the progressive-overload principle. It holds that if an athlete pushes herself slightly out of her comfort zone — ramping up the distance she’s running, or her pace in sprints, or the amount of weight she’s lifting — then once she rests and recovers from that workout, she’ll be stronger or faster than before. But this adaptation, or supercompensation, as it’s called, lasts for only a short time. The key is to apply training stress again, during that window, to spur more adaptation and increase fitness."

New York Times Article "Mary Cain is Growing up Fast"

I've covered Periodization principles in a previous post, highlighted by TrainingPeaks data to provide quantitative measurement of fitness gain.

Mt Washington winter summit

Recently I completed an unimaginable weekend hiking in New Hampshire's White Mountains.   What started out as a  two night weekend trek north, with the hope to have just one day of safe Mt Washington summit, turned into an breathtaking weekend of three successful summits under near perfect conditions.  I have become the envy of many outdoorsman. I have also been warned, the weekend conditions are such a rarity, I may never be blessed to experience such an awe inspiring weekend every again.

For the week leading up, my hiking partner,ultra runner, and adventurous friend (Sean)  had warned me we may not have an opportunity to see the summit of Mt Washington.  My fear showed, as I would counter that I'll be the first to turn my back if I felt my safety was in question. Mt Washington wasn't completely foreign to me as I had made two previous summit ascents as an early teen with my father.  Memories are still deeply engrained of the hurricane like winds at the summit. In 1996 I completed a 15 week analysis of the summit weather conditions on the observatory structure as part of my college graduation requirements at WPI (that was the last time I ever used  my Civil Engineering education). I was well aware of the record winds (fastest recorded winds of 231mph), and its proximity to three weather fronts. I have professed to those completely unfamiliar with mountain, its lore as the worst weather on earth. 

As if on queue, and in an unfortunate event, conditions reached epic Mt Washington standard only a week before our trek.  President's Day, temperatures dropped to -35 degrees Fahrenheit, making it the second coldest location on earth (Antarctica won out). Sustained winds of 130 mph produced an unbelievable -90 degrees wind chill.  An experienced hiker from NYC attempted a day hike that day, and unfortunately perished in the mountains due to the extreme cold temperatures.  Mt Washington, at 'only' 6,288 feet isn't high by any standard.  By comparison , it is the third highest peak east of the Mississippi river, and pales in size the 14+ 14,000 footers in Colorado.  This is a trap for the unfamiliar out-of-staters.  Do not under estimate what this mountain can toss at you, as it will be your demise.

It appeared our best conditions were going to be Saturday morning, as a snowstorm was projected to come in starting that afternoon and possibly go until Sunday. We got a jump on it, as we were at the Tuckerman's Ravine trailhead by 6:30AM with a plan to turn onto Lion's Head and reach the summit in 4 hours (4.2 mile trail).  The predawn light was enough to forego our headlamps.   We started the hike with extra clothes on, anticipating the exertion of the ascent would warm us up quickly. It was 0 degrees at the start.  Within an hour layers were coming off, and we had an opportunity to feel the warmth of a new sunrise on over our backs and we had several clear glimpses of the summit with a blue sky as its backdrop. It was turning into a picturesque day.

We eventually turned onto the winter only Lion's Head trail, where we exchanged our trekking poles for a mountaineering ax and put on the crampons. Sean provided me with quick instructions on how to properly ascend a steep incline with crampons and ax.  Picture yourself walking up a steep uphill, but with your body turned to one side, and walking uphill sideways.  It was amazingly more efficient, but only after I got the hang of it. I had several minutes of small ascents to master it, before I had to apply the knowledge in order to keep my feet under me and progress gaining in the forward direction.   I discovered that a full forward frontal assault didn't provide as good traction as the side approach.  Often the crampons wouldn't grip with this frontal approach, and it took only a few slips to really get the blood pumping to support the added work.   We worked our way to the tunnel.  A 20 - 30 foot, roughly 75 degree pitched vertical wall.  Sean, and another friend (Hector), had talked about this section before. The question was how much of it would be pure ice.  Fortunately for me, it was mostly snow, which allowed me to create steps in the snow by repeatedly stomping my boot in the snow.  Similar to rock climbing, anticipating your next hand & foot placement was key to being efficient.  There were many thin tree branches, which in combination with the ax, provided just enough touch points for my hands.  I never felt nervous on this brief vertical, as I was already thinking ahead, on the 'How the hell will I climb down this later?'.

We eventually made our way past the treeline, the meandering line around the mountains, providing the demarcation point where even short bushes no longer grow.  We were fully exposed to the elements, but also had unobstructed views all around. The ground cover was laden with small boulders, mostly less than 2 foot in diameter. We approached a large rock formation, maybe 6 foot high by 8 foot across.  Enough shelter from the increasing wind assault. We could still openly talk to each other through this section, but with a bit more yelling to compensate for a seemingly heavy 15-20mph wind.  At this rock formation were two men, gearing up for the next section up to Lion's head (a larger rock formation, approximately 3x the size of where were now). They were quite concerned about exposed skin.   Balaklava, Neoprene mask, goggles, thick hooded jacket....and so on. Before they ventured off, they did a full check - "do I have any skin showing?".  I turned  Sean, who was taking great delight in my wife's brownies,  " Neoprene's and goggles?", I asked.  

"Nope.  Just Balaklava.  It isn't cold enough yet."

Breathing with a Balaklava sucks.  It was almost stress than necessary.  I wasn't breathing hard during that next ascent, but sucking air through a cloth suddenly makes this seem less effortless.   This next section was a bit more of the same, but a bit more wind.  However, I don't want to downplay the first views of Tuckerman's Ravine to our left, and clear views of Mt Washington summit to our front.   There were several gasps at the sheer beauty of it all.   We passed several small groups making there ascent, as the climb started to take there toll on them.  I was so grateful for all my ultra marathon endurance training from this past year and a half.  It made a world of difference in allowing us to push without much effort. Upon arriving at Lion's head, we stopped for pictures, videos, food, & goggles.  Still not time for our neoprene mask.  While it was quite cold out, I still felt very comfortable with the layers I had on.  I still had options in my pack if more was needed.  Fortunately, it was never needed.

The next section, the alpine garden was the second to last section, and proved to be the biggest challenge.  Winds were sustained at 30 mph, and for the first time, walking was a chore.  The wind, blowing from left to right, now had to be factored into the equation of each step. Solid footing was a must, anything less and I risked being blown off balance and onto the rocky ground. The mountain ax was more like a brace as opposed to a snow pick. After a 1/4 to 1/2 mile of this, we left this flat and rocky terrain for deep snow and more vertical gain.  As if the hip deep snow and 30 degree pitch weren't enough.  We now had my first near white out conditions as a result of the high winds and increased snow.  Sean was 20 feet ahead of me, and he was following three more hikers within 50 yards of him. For perspective, much of this ascent I could not see the group in front of Sean, Sean was just a blur, and foot steps in the snow (remember hip deep) was almost completely erased by the cross wind. I was never worried, just frustrated every time a step broke through the top.  It was considerable work progressing upwards at this point, so I was quite please to reach our last rest point at another rock outcropping.  At this point Sean suggested we put on the Neoprene mask under the Balaklava. The wind was finding its way around these rocks.  While it provided some protection from the elements, it wasn't enough.  The bio break here proved quite laughable!

The rest of the ascent was wind, rocks, compact snow, and ice. Visibility had greatly improved, as we weren't dealing with white out conditions.  The sky was mostly clear for this last mile assault.  We had several glimpses of the observatory, but it only seemed to make the summit march seem longer than what it should have been.  The addition of the Neoprene mask made breathing a near miserable choir.  Several times I found myself breathing hard, not because of effort, but purely due to my I ability to get oxygen in & carbon dioxide out. My ability to control my breathing became more of the focus as we closed in n the objective, as condensation was building inside the goggles. I made one feebler attempt to wipe it, which only resulted in a quick freeze.  Half the goggles were blurred within the final 1/4 mile.  A tolerable annoyance. Occasionally I would pull the Balaklava and neoprene away from my mouth to allow free airflow.   Sean and I have since talked about solutions for this, to include cutting a quarter size hole in the neoprene. 

Once at the summit, I removed the goggles and buried them under my clothes near my body.   While doing so, I realized, the Balaklava had frozen solid.  I was quite thankful to have Sean as my guide, as he warned me to not rely solely on my Balaklava, as it would freeze.   The $14 neoprene purchase was well worth it, despite the breathing challenges.  Without Sean's advise, i surely would have balked at what appeared to be an unnecessary redundant layer. We walked around, took pictures, ate, and generally admiring our surroundings.   Sean informed me that most of his winter ascents consisted of reaching the summit under horrible conditions, taking a quick photo, and then hightailing it off the mountain top.  Today we were blessed.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oV_Ksd9TKw&feature=youtu.be

View from the observatory

During our descent, the conditions started to take a turn for the worse, which we had anticipated.  Going through the rocky, flat alpine garden this time proved to be more challenging. Sustained winds increased to 40-50mph, and were more volatile.  Gusts of 70mph were frequent. We were both blown off trail on several occasions on this flat section.  At one point, a gust spun me around and sat me down on the nearest boulder.   Sean was 30 yards ahead, looming back at me.  He was standing, bent over onto his ax for support. We both had masks and goggles on, but I swear we both laughed at the same time.