Almost Time to Chase the Lion

                  My 6-year-old daughter Emily's photo of my Mom watching me run from heaven.

Chasing the Lion

I always have a thought before I step off on a long run. It's usually the words that leave my mouth before I settle into that place in my mind where I feel like I am half awake and half dreaming mile after mile.  The thought is: It's time to chase the lion. I read a book once called In a Pit with a Lion.  It's about Benaiah from the Bible and how he chased a lion (II Samuel 23:20). The book in a nutshell is about how at the end of your life you will regret the lions you didn't chase. It's also about how anything is possible, overcoming your fears and taking risks. When I think about chasing my own lion I think about it differently. Chasing my lion isn't so much about overcoming. I never dwell much on victories in the arena that for me are the trails where I love to run. For me, my lion is my relationship with God and my desire to know Him on a deeper level.  When I am chasing my lion I am simply running toward a deeper more meaningful existence. For me, this is found in my friendship with God. I use the word friendship instead of relationship because it's the friendship aspect of our relationship that excites me most.  Sometimes I feel this friendship, which brings on indescribable inspiration, and at times can be overwhelming, is the reason I am alive. If you have ever felt God smile there is nothing that compares. If you haven't, it's worth chasing.  As the month of March winds down and we get ready to step off into April I realize it has been one of the greatest months of my life. It will end with the seventh birthday of my daughter and a wonderful party. It will be a fitting finale to celebrate her birth and a new beginning into another chapter of her life.  I love watching her grow and become more beautiful each day. At the end of March I find myself in the best physical shape of my life. My mind is clear and open. I feel my spirit is open and accepting to the challenge I have chosen. June will be here in a blink of an eye and I will be caught up in the whirlwind of the greatest challenge of my life - the Midwest Grand Slam of Ultra Running. I am running to honor my mother who died of breast cancer at the age of 40. She had a hard life. I have no memory of it ever being easy for her. She was a fighter. Her greatest love in life was her children. I have thought about her so much in the last few months. I've told my wife I feel I have already healed so much from past regrets. I know there is much more healing to do. I believe, the more we love the deeper we are allowed to go. When I began training for the challenge of running four 100 mile races (I've since added Oil Creek 100 to the mix making it five 100 mile races in five months) I thought I might find a fitting way to finally say goodbye to my mother. I failed to say it before she died. I'm beginning to feel there may not be a reason for goodbyes. I'm beginning to believe that nothing ever dies. Everything just always is. The ones we love are always with us. If we search deep enough we can feel their smiles upon us. Those smiles we remember can fuel any fire. They are inspiration and happiness. They can make any dream possible.

If you would like to donate to the National Breast Cancer Foundation in honor of my mother and to support my Grandslam Against Breast Cancer please visit this link: http://www.stayclassy.org/fundraise?fcid=181875

Thanks for stopping by.
 

Oil Creek 100 Mile Trail Run - Race Report

                                    

                                                      Photo courtesy of Charlie Houpt

LATE NIGHT PRE-RACE MEETING WITH THE WIFE

The Oil Creek 100 Mile Train Run in 2011 began for me in May. I remember it as a blur. It began with my wife Jen and I drinking too much wine on our couch and getting into some seriously deep conversations. I remember Jen telling me that I was different when I was running. I had stopped for eight months. Eight long months that were spent doing a lot of soul searching and can best be described as depressing. Somewhere in our conversation Jen told me what I needed to hear, “You need to run Oil Creek, again.” I had dropped last year at mile 62 and for several reasons had not started running again after the race. We decided I would run again and Jen had encouraged me and motivated me to a place that had me in tears. Try to remember Adrian telling ROCKY to “WIN” after having ROCKY Jr. in the hospital. Then Mickey yells, “WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?! TAKE THIS!” That’s how I felt. Game on. Time to get to work. It was a decision I could not make on my own. We made it together and that meant we were in it together and that’s what made all the difference. I registered for the race right then and there on the couch and we both got a good laugh when I got a message from Katie Hoban Peterson the next morning that I had registered as a 90-year-old. It was one of those nights and the last one I would have for four months. I ran the next day because I said I would. I was training for the Oil Creek 100 again. I was dreaming again. It was time to hit the trails.

PREPARATION

I have trained on the beautiful trails at Merrill Creek Reservoir near my home a lot in the past. What I did not know was that I had only seen a small portion of what those trails have to offer. On the other side of the reservoir I found a climb that reminds me of the ski slope at Virgil Crest. I would become intimately acquainted with this section of my favorite training ground. Not long after deciding to run Oil Creek again I teamed back up with my coach Lisa Smith Batchen. Lisa is one of my favorite people in the world. Not just because she is an amazing coach who has the ability to get the best out of you, but because her heart is bigger than any mountain she will ever help you face. It felt like old times. Jen, Lisa and I were realistic about Oil Creek. I had jumped into training very late and I was very out of shape. I had difficulty getting to 10 miles on my early long runs. We had all decided that if Oil Creek doesn’t happen this year there will always be next year and other races. A lot of my training runs were spent thinking about Oil Creek in 2012. I was just happy to be running again.  I had a three race plan in my training – Mahalon Mayhem 50K, Labor Pains 12 Hour and the Virgil Crest 50 Mile. Oil Creek would depend on the outcome of each of these races. Each one of those races changed me in some way. After completing Virgil Crest faster than last year in some of the worst mud I have ever run in, I knew we were headed back to Oil Creek. When my family was sleeping that night in our hotel after Virgil Crest I sat alone on the bathroom floor and I cried. I never expected to be back in the place I was. I was overwhelmed with the thought of where I was going. Oil Creek isn’t just a race for me. It’s my reminder that if you seek God He will find you. You just need to face in the right direction and get moving.  

Problems on the Trail

 The first loop (31 miles) was the best of my race. I felt really good and I completed it in 7:58. This is a faster pace than I am use to but Lisa and I had decided on a faster start since I am a runner who is often chasing cut offs. This first loop made all the difference as I soon ran into problems that slowed me down significantly. First came the blisters on the balls of both of my feet under calluses and on both heels. The balls of my feet felt like I was stepping on knives for 40 miles. Next came the worst chafing I can ever remember on my legs. I had run the skin off my legs and it was a mess on both sides for the entire second half of the run. I felt like I was on fire. Next came awful stomach problems and I was wretching on the trail and unable to keep any food down for the last 20 miles. I completed the second loop in 10:02 and the third in 10:35. Both loops much slower than I had hoped for but considering the blisters, chafing and stomach issues I was glad to still be moving forward. If I would have taken it easier on the first loop I would not have finished the race.

Night on the Trail

 I spent the dark hours running with an amazing ultra runner named Farouk Elkassed. I spent the night behind him and getting lost in the rhythm of our breathing and our movement. I remember a time when I felt like I was floating along and I no longer felt any pain at all. We were moving at a very good pace and I felt like I had run very far inside myself – if that makes any sense. I was comfortably floating along. This was also the time for my favorite hallucination of the race. I looked up at the sky and I saw a gigantic jack o’ lantern. It was HUGE. I couldn’t believe someone had somehow brought a Batman signal and set it up to put this giant jack O’ lantern in the sky. I remember saying. “Farouk! Check it out! It’s a GIGANTIC Jack O’ Lantern!” It’s amazing!” Farouk looked at it for a good two minutes before responding. “Dude, that’s the moon.” I wasn’t fully convinced but one thing is for sure. It was beautiful.

Seven Miles with Tom Lane – Redemption Run

 Farouk and I had run together right through the sunrise and when morning fully arrived he was energized and I was finding it hard to keep up. At this part of the race I was dreaming of porta johns and stopping at everyone to empty out my stomach that refused food and now water. Farouk was soon way ahead of me and I was alone on the trail. I finally made it back to the school and Jen was waiting at the bridge for me at mile 93. I don’t remember much of this arrival. Jen says I didn’t acknowledge her at all and was blindly staring into space. I took more time at this aid station than any other. I changed my socks, used the bathroom (again) and tried to eat a bit but my stomach wasn’t having it. I was dreading the last seven miles especially knowing that the last climb called “the Truth” was awaiting me. Tom Lane walked with me a bit out of the aid station and then decided to pace me for the last seven miles. This was the best part of my race. Tom is “that guy” you want to know. He is kind to everyone and makes you look at yourself and reevaluate how you treat others. I hardly thought about the last seven miles running with Tom – and yes, he had me RUNNING again. It reminded me of Jimmy Dean Freeman coming out to run with me at the end of the Brazil 135 when I was barely hanging on and wearing Crocs for the last 30 miles since me feet were no longer recognizable. People like these guys find ways to motivate you when you are at your lowest and get you moving and smiling again.  When we got to the hill called “The Truth” I told him how much that name moves me as we moved up it. If I have one regret from my race, it’s not sharing how I really felt with Tom climbing up that mountain at mile 96 with tears in my eyes. I knew exactly what I would be thinking about if I made it to “The Truth.” These words:

“I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."

Matthew 17:20

I had once again lived those words and a few short miles later I crossed the finish line at 31:39:39 and Race Director Tom Jennings handed me my redemption buckle. I turned to Jen and said, “Where’s your hat?” Without her I would never be standing there battered but indescribably happy. Without her I would not be the man I am today and I am proud to say I like who I am. I am a seeker. I am a dreamer. I am a lion chaser. I am a man not afraid to love. I am a friend of God.

Final Thoughts

Oil Creek is not just a race. It’s become a family reunion in three short years. The volunteers aren’t just there to feed you they truly care about you. This race touches so many lives you don’t need to be a runner to experience the love this run creates. For me, it’s an example of everything that is right in the world. It’s not just about running. For me, running is way down the list. It’s about living in the moment. It’s about chasing dreams. It’s about loving your neighbors and caring for others and helping others be the best they can be.

Thanks for stopping by. 

                                                     Photo by Jen Sperduto

Virgil Crest 50 Mile Race Report

                                                        Mile 36. Photo by Jen Sperduto

 

Running the Virgil Crest 50Mile felt like coming home. It’s hard to describe how I feel about completing this race again this year. It’s truly an amazing race. The aid stations, volunteers and race director are all incredible. The course will challenge any runner. It’s beautiful beyond a doubt. The first 36 miles were a slow painful and doubtful experience. The mud was everywhere. Up to my ankles for a lot of the day. I tried to lose myself in the beauty that abounds on this course but it was hard to look at anything but where to successfully put my next step without falling on my ass. Fall on my ass I did. Six times. Not painful falls. More like a little kid sliding down a soft, slippery mud hill.  I had the normal thought I get on a difficult run of “why I am doing this again?” I felt from the get go I would be battling the cut off times all day. I had doubts of finishing the race early on. Everything changed for me at mile 36. I think the best way to explain it is acceptance. I decided right after a hot cup of soup and a nice chat with my awesome, supportive wife that I was going to run the remaining miles with a different attitude. I stopped worrying about cut offs. I stopped bitching to myself about mud and how much better I would be doing on firmer ground. I just stayed in the moment and I ran. A dominate thought in my mind was this is who I am. This is who I chose to be.  For all the pain and discomfort that can come from the experience of an ultra marathon it doesn’t hold a candle to the quite moments alone climbing a monster hill when you really find out who you are. It’s in those moments my mind becomes clear and I feel an unexplainable closeness to God. I like to remind myself in those moments why I chose this wonderful way of life.  I am a seeker. In those moments I am defined. I was overwhelmed with this feeling at Virgil Crest. I describe the feeling to my wife as God punching me in the stomach. I swear I can FEEL Him smile. I had that at mile 36 and it stayed with me the rest of the race right to the finish line.

I completed the Virgil Crest 50 faster than I did last year with a time of 15:47. I crossed the finish line in a dead sprint and I felt strong. I wished I was running the 100 miler. A wonderful thought to bring with me to the starting line of the Oil Creek 100 in eight days. The feeling I had at Virgil Crest has stayed. It feels almost like a state of half dreaming and awake. I am bursting out of my skin waiting to toe the line at Oil Creek. I know it will be challenging. I know I will have my down moments and like every ultra I have ever run something will go wrong. But I also know I am going back to the trails where my dream began. The place and the race I chose to challenge myself with an impossible run in the hopes of knowing God again while teaching my mind and body what it means to go beyond what I thought possible. I’m going back to Oil Creek and I am running 100 miles. When the moment comes, and I’ll know it when it comes, I am leaving everything on those trails.

A Return to Virgil Crest

With my daughter Emily after the Mahlyon Mahem 50K.

I'm on my way back to beautiful upstate NY today to run the Virgil Crest 50 Mile Ultra Marathon tomorrow. I completed this race last year and I remember it as one of the most difficult races I have ever done. The course has 10,000 feet of elevation for 50 miles and the most difficult section goes up and down a black diamond ski slope twice. Many of the climbs remind me of my adventure running the Brazil 135 Mile Ultra Marathon.  I've thought a lot about this race during the last few months. I’m registered for the Oil Creek 100 Mile Trail Run in 15 days and I promised myself I would only return to Oil Creek if I complete Virgil Crest with no major issues. I’ve lost around 17 pounds and though it’s a slow go the weight IS coming off. I haven’t had bread, wheat, flour or sugar for three months and I’m losing about five pounds a month. I’ve been back training with my amazing coach Lisa Smith Batchen for the last few months and my perspective on running has changed a lot this time around. I feel in many ways I am a more mature runner. Less stressed for sure. I don’t feel like my training is all about one race. I see myself in it for the long haul. I’m taking it as it comes and if I’m not ready for one race there will be another. I honestly did not think I would run Virgil Crest or Oil Creek this year and I was OK with that. But … here I am. Mentally, I am just beginning to feel ready and that’s exciting. I have hopes that I will continue to run ultra marathons for the rest of my life. I still find myself feeling like a little kid as I am out there for a race or dreaming about one on a long run. There are so many amazing experiences to be found out there on the trails. I recently ran the Labor Pains 12 Hour Run and completed 40 miles on a very hot and humid day. I contemplated stopping several times. But I gutted it out. When I told my wife I was going out for one more loop after 35 miles the pride I saw her in eyes gave me goose bumps.  It was a moment hard to describe.  I looked like hell and I was hurting BAD. The humidity was brutal and I just wasn’t having a great day. But I told myself if I do not finish the run I would not run Virgil Crest. So I kept on moving. Few things in life can ever compare to making the woman you love proud. Especially when you feel like a battered gladiator doing it.  I did not listen to music until the last loop of the race. I was saving my favorite running music for the last loop. It’s the songs I listened to in Brazil and at Oil Creek. It’s very special music to me that brings me to another place in my mind. In between the songs my daughter speaks to me and encourages me. When I heard the songs I have run too for so many miles my heart and my spirit soared. I turned a corner and a runner heading in to complete the race raised his water bottle to me in a salute. The look in his eyes I have seen before. It said we are still here. We are different and today we are special. Today we are finishers. I picked up the pace and I began to cry. I hit the trail to the woods and I lifted my own bottle to the sky and looked up. I saluted my Friend who I spend most of my time thinking about when I run. I yelled as loud as I could and I felt completely free. Connected. Loved. I finished that race in a full out dead sprint and almost puked at the end. But all I could think about was the salute I received from a fellow warrior on the trail and my own.

What I Learned from a Fish

                                                              A fish called Walter

I first met Walter about three months ago in one of my favorite fishing holes on the Pequest River.  The first time I saw him he launched out of the air like a rocket and I thought my heart skipped a beat. He took off down river and my reel was singing as the line went straight to the backing. He broke the fly off my tippet and I was left staring at the river with my mouth open wondering what just happened. Like a bad addiction, I kept coming back to the river conveniently a mile from my home to hunt for Walter. Trout have a tendency to return to the same place and they rarely wander far from home. I hooked and lost Walter four times over the last three months. The last time he launched into the air and I swear he smiled at me before he spit the hook from his mouth. Each time I would ceremoniously lose Walter I would come home and tell my wife and daughter the story of another epic battle where Walter was the victor.  I believe even my family had grown fond of this fish. After a fight for the ages I finally landed Walter today and got to hold the beautiful fish. He flew out of the air three times and it took me 30 minutes to finally bring him to hand. He was too big to fit in my net so I had to bring him to the shore. When Walter and I finally met face to face I felt as if I was looking at an old friend. Like my fly fishing buddy and NJ fishing Guide John Heaney said, when I finally landed him I had a whole new respect for the fish. I took my pictures, of course, and gently got him back in the water and swimming again. I tipped my hat to Walter waved goodbye and thanked him for the experience. It’s one I will never forget. There is something very special about that fish. The pictures of him leaping out of the air are etched in my mind. Though I likely woke up sleepy neighbors with my screams of frustration the times I lost him I’m glad I did. Nothing easy has ever felt truly earned and Walter is a reminder that perseverance brings rewards and if you keep trying eventually you may land the fish, the job, the next great picture and maybe even finish the race.

 

Coming Back to Life

                                                                Photo by Jeremy Lock

It's hard to stay away from the things you love. Especially when those things teach you how to live, love, hope and dream. I've missed running terribly. I didn't realize how it has such a profound effect on my life until I stopped. I always felt guilty when my running would take me away from my family. It wasn't until I stopped running that I realized how running made me a better husband and father. When I was running I was happier. I was more relaxed. More focused. I was more in the moment when around my family and others. Running made me an all around better person. When I was running I had faith. I believed. With each passing day that I was not running I would look back on my running adventures as some of the greatest moments of my life. They were adventures completely fueled for my love and friendship with God. That relationship becomes difficult for me when I am not running. It's just one more reason I stopped. I became confused and frustrated that a feeling so strong was confined to the trails. I began to doubt.
I have begun to run again and I am signed up to run the Oil Creek 100 Mile Trail Run Oct 08. Right now, it feels impossible. Hopeless. However, I know from experience that anything is possible. All you have to do is keep moving forward. You have to want the dream so bad that you can taste the finish line months before you step to the starting line. You have to enjoy the journey. Expect the difficult days and push through them. Cherish the moments when you feel so damn good you start dancing on the trail. Possibly screaming to the clouds because you are all alone in the middle of nowhere. Looking up and remembering. Dreaming. Feeling completely and wonderfully alive.

Taking a step back before stepping forward

                        My daughter Emily and I before the Oil Creek 100.

It’s been a month since I have tied on my running shoes and there is part of me that misses it terribly. It’s the seeking part of me. The Oil Creek 100 ended for me at mile 62 and I still haven’t processed the experience. I have attempted to update this blog on many occasions and have been left staring at the white of my Microsoft word doc or deleting a long rambling. I have decided to take a break from training and long distance running and cleared my calendar of any ultras I had scheduled for 2011 including the McNaughton 200 mile in March. I’m not sure what my future as an ultra runner holds for me. Training for Oil Creek the second time around and my inability to lose one pound no matter how many miles I ran or how strict I stayed on my diet was terribly disappointing. Many people run to lose weight. I was stuck in an endless rut of not being able to lose weight so I could be a better runner. In four months of intense training and dieting I was one pound heavier. I began to no longer look forward to my long runs. I was always hungry.  Running became a chore and the only reason I was doing it was because I made a commitment and I had to follow through.  Everything I did revolved around my running and losing weight and what I needed to do to lose it. I tried everything I could think of. Cleanses, diet pills, 1,500 calories a day diet, 3,000 calorie a day diet, Weight Watchers, appointments with doctors and nutritionists, metabolism checks (I apparently don’t have a metabolism) it all became tiresome and nothing worked. I was eating to much or I was not eating enough. I was going in circles. Terribly frustrated. The simple reality for me was that burning more calories than I put in my body resulted in no weight loss. Running was once a way I could lift myself out of any depression I was feeling but now I was depressed just thinking about running. I ran Oil Creek 30 pounds heavier than I’d hoped and I was 17 pounds heavier than the year before. Why my body now refused to lose one pound, I have no idea. I wasn’t disappointed when my run ended at mile 62. The run started off amazing but eventually my stomach couldn’t keep anything down. My pace slowed so much I could not have made the next cut off time. To be perfectly honest, I was just glad it was over. Instead of feeling disappointed, I was now glad I could take a break from being disappointed.  Feeling healthy and running should go hand in hand and I was terribly tired of running so long and so far and no longer feeling healthy doing it. I was tired of seeing the scale say I was one or two pounds heavier two days after a 20 or 30 mile trail run. I was tired of stepping on the scale and having it ruin my day or my week. I know this post is not terribly inspirational and if you are still reading I’m surprised. In a way I’m writing just to get these thoughts down and move on from the race. Maybe move on from running. I enjoy overcoming challenges and I love doing the impossible. That was once running 50, 100 or 135 miles. Today, it’s simply learning how or why I can’t lose five pounds. When and if I can figure that one out I hope to try again. Someone said to me this week that I accomplished goals and dreams with my running that are hard to fathom and for some hard to even believe. Those adventures were all about believing. No matter what the future brings, those times, those dreams will always shape my life.

Thanks for stopping by.

Why would anyone want to do this!?

Rainbow at Oil Creek. Photo by Jeremy Lock/Legion Photo

 I had the opportunity this week to speak with a reporter doing a story about the Oil Creek 100. He is interviewing several runners from all levels running Saturday. This was his last question:

Last, but not least, what the heck is wrong with you?! Why would anyone want to do this to themselves?

I have thought about this question a lot. It resounds like a drum especially during difficult runs. I did my best to answer the question.  After giving it much more thought and doing my best to honestly and openly answer it this is the best I can do.This is why I enjoy running 100 miles ... or longer.

 During every long run I experience an extreme feeling of spiritual awareness. Running 100 miles, and training for a run that long, makes me feel closer to God. Sometimes the experience is indescribable. The Oil Creek 100 last year defined me. It wasn't just the race itself. It was dreaming of completing it, the long runs preparing for it, the fears and doubts I had to face to overcome it, and finally crossing the finish line and hugging my wife who helped me so much through the journey. It was knowing in that moment that my life would never be the same. Ultimately, the entire experience was relationship building with God because I let it slip away. I became comfortable in my life and forgot what it felt like to know God as a friend. He had become a thought and not a relationship. He had become a big question mark and sadly something or someone to point a finger at for all the wars, sadness and misery in the world. He was no longer a friend. He was just a word and that word was religion. I can remember the EXACT moment I turned away from God. I was at Ground Zero about a month after 9/11. I was there for four months day and night after the towers fell. I was assigned there for my job. It wasn't the horrific things I saw there that changed me. I saw hope and love there also. It was my fellow Christians handing out pamphlets at the gates to the firemen going to work to find their friends in the rubble. The Christians would scream from the gate "If you died today would you go to heaven or hell?" It broke my heart. Crushed my spirit and destroyed my faith. I began to question every experience I had with God. And I began to slip away. Since that day, I can count on one hand how many times I have stepped in a church.  I don't know when it happened exactly but while running I began thinking about God. Ironically, I began running because I developed breathing problems from my time at Ground Zero. A pulmonary test showed that my air intake was the same as a 96 year old person. So I began running. And I began remembering. On my runs I thought about God.  I was brought back to a time in my life when I put all of myself into the words of God that say this - If you seek Me with all your heart and all your soul then you will find Me.  So I decided to run 100 miles. I decided that I wanted to seek again and there was something crazy romantic and beautiful to me about looking for God while trying to achieve something that I did not feel was possible. The rest of the story, well like I said, defines me. These are the words from the note section of my phone that I wrote lying in bed before falling asleep after finishing Oil Creek last year:

Remember. Over time, you begin to question faith. You forget this. Here, now. God is real, there is no question. He showed you today. Remember.
What happened today was about trust. God revealed himself. There is no doubt. 100 percent I believe. God was with me today. I am His.
I must remember.

The words Oil Creek will always remind me of what it feels like to be a kid again. Running, dreaming and dancing on trails with tears in my eyes and my arms in the air.  Care free and happy. Simply spending time with my friend.

Come Saturday. We run.

Virgil Crest 50 and thoughts on returning to the Oil Creek 100

Making my way back to my hotel room after completing the Oil Creek 100 in 2009.

I had an amazing run this morning. It was one of those runs when everything just feels right and I remember why I love to move my feet. It came at just the right time as I am now tapering for the Oil Creek 100. I can't believe it's 10 days away.  Last weekend I ran the Virgil Crest 50 Mile Ultra (51.4 to be exact) as my last long run and man that run kicked my ass. It was one of the toughest runs I have ever done. My hats off to those brave souls who completed the 100. One section of the course was straight up a black diamond ski slope with a 14% incline. Having to face this ski slope section twice during the 50 mile was tough. Having to face it four times during the 100 is a real test of courage. Never mind the fact that one of the hardest sections of the course is right after it. There was 10,000 feet of climb during the Virgil Crest 50 Mile and I felt like all day for 16 hours I was going up. One of the hardest parts of the race was the incredible inclines. Some sections had ropes to help pull you up. If you are looking for a technical and challenging but incredibly beautiful ultra with awesome aid stations, volunteers and a great race director put Virgil Crest on your list. I'm sure I will be back to run it but it's also on my bucket list of races to photograph due to how beautiful the course is. I will have great memories of running with 1st time 50 Mile finisher Jim Porter. We motivated each other and kept each other company. Jim felt amazing the whole race while having to listen to me bitch about blisters that arrived at mile five and got worse with each passing mile. Hydropel on feet before putting on Drymax socks? Nope. Not for me. Lesson learned the painful way.  Blisters are my major concern right now going into Oil Creek and this week alone I returned three pairs of new running shoes and bought 10 new pairs of socks. It's been hard to think about anything but Oil Creek. It seems to be the first thing on my mind in the morning and must be at night since my dreams are filled with the trails or visions of me frantically running to the starting line because my alarm didn't go off and realizing in my panic that I forgot my running shorts.
It is going to be very strange going back to Oil Creek. I have done plenty of ultras since but every step of training and running Oil Creek was like chasing a dream.  Finishing your first 100 miler is simply unreal. I do not know if it can ever be explained. This will be my first time revisiting a 100 mile ultra and that thought scares the crap out of me. The first time, I knew without a shadow of a doubt I was running 100 miles. I just did not know that it would be with enough time to earn the buckle I see on my wall now. I am always chasing the cut off times. Speed has never been my friend.  Signing up for Oil Creek again was a difficult decision. My inability to lose weight was almost a show stopper because I had dreams of doing this ultra and actually feeling like a runner. I'm back to reality and moving forward relentlessly with the hopes of being a finisher.  In many ways, I am scared to death of losing my memories from the first experience. To be perfectly honest, I am also afraid of it not being special. Of it being, well different, and just not the same as I remember. I guess no race or experience ever is.
I remember how I felt at Virgil Crest. I viewed the race as my last long run and when I described what it was like to my wife I said it was like "work". I was simply getting it done so I can earn the buckle again at Oil Creek and hopefully have some fun and memories while doing so. I went into Virgil Crest with very tired legs from a 40 mile run the weekend before. I felt heavy and tired.  But for about 15 minutes at Virgil Crest it was so much more than that. For 15 minutes during that race I ran with tears in my eyes and the feeling in my heart that I was doing exactly what I was born to do. I was running surrounded by beauty all around me and I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be at that moment.  I rounded a corner and saw my wife and my daughter in the distance and the beautiful fall leaves with the wonderful cool air filling my lungs and in that moment I felt amazingly alive. I felt like God was smiling. I felt free. I felt blessed to be there. I felt completely  synchronized with everything around me and blissfully happy. It was BEAUTIFUL. Those moments now are fewer and fewer and some runs don't have that feeling at all. There was a time I felt that way stepping out my door for a run. . That's how I felt training for Oil Creek and Brazil 135. That's how I felt running those races. Since then it hasn't been all mountain tops. It's been a lot of lonely long runs where I would hope for five or ten minutes of what I described. I had 15 minutes of that at Virgil Crest. The reality is if I can have one minute of that feeling at Oil Creek I would run the race backwards. Some people ask me how I can run all day alone sometimes for ten or twelve hours and that feeling is why. It's always out there and sometimes more than once. Sometimes it stays for hours. But it's a feeling that must be found and it's harder and harder to come by.  It's a feeling that can not be described. The best I can do is to say there are moments when I run that I feel connected to God and without a shadow of a doubt I know He is real. There are moments when I know He turns his head toward me and smiles. Sometimes I feel if I run deep enough inside myself I will feel God stand up because He is so moved by our moments together. That's when I will start to fly.

Thanks for stopping by.

34 Days until Oil Creek 100

On the trail at the Oil Creek 100. Photo by Jeremy Lock

With my second attempt at the Oil Creek 100 mile ultra marathon 34 short days I had hoped to be at a place now where I feel somewhat prepared both mentally and physically for the challenge that I know is coming. As in the past, I have trained very, very hard for this race. It's been the dominant thought in my head for more than four months and I have been more disciplined with my training than ever before. My diet has never been more healthy and I have never been more strict with the food I put in my mouth. After the first month I was very surprised to see the scale not move at all. After the second month with no weight loss while burning twice or three times the calories I started to become concerned. Now, with four months of strict dieting and training behind me, I find myself at the same weight. I have been diagnosed with a thyroid condition. I have always been overweight. I am currently 30 pounds heavier than I feel I should be and I feel my entire life has been a struggle to get there. I can't remember anytime in my life when I have not struggled with being overweight. No matter how strict my calorie intake is, no matter the amount of countless hours I train, my weight does not move. If I stop my diet or take anytime off of training,  my weight quickly climbs. It's been the most difficult challenge of my ultra marathon training. I admit, on more times than I can count I have wanted to quit. I almost did not run the Brazil 135 Mile ultra marathon because I could not lose any weight during my training. I ran that race 25 pounds overweight and I felt every extra pound while I ran for 57 hours and 50 minutes. I swore it would be the last time I ran overweight. But, here I am again, running fat, for countless miles every week while also spending hours a week on the stair master and elliptical machine. It doesn't seem fair. But, what in life ever is? I can't remember anything ever being easy. Everything has to be more difficult than it should be. Everything is a climb. I'm thankful that the extra weight hasn't caused any injuries. Every part of me takes a pounding on the trails and currently my long runs are longer than marathons once a week. Last week I ran 45 miles on Sunday during the Labor Pains 12 hour ultra marathon. I was careful with everything I ate before, during and after the race. I gained two pounds.

I'm hoping the thyroid medication is going to be the answer I have been looking for and I can finally get myself to a healthy acceptable weight I can live with. I'm currently 13 pounds heavier than I was for Oil Creek last year which was the only time in my life i successful lost weight. It seems my body has adapted to the training and refuses to budge. It holds onto everything. I have dreamed of running on trails and feeling healthy as I do it. I never have. I have always waited for the change to finally arrive. 

I began training for Oil Creek with the mindset of becoming faster than I have ever been before. To finish the 100 miles with a time that would even surprise myself. Today, with 34 days until the race I am hoping to simply finish.  That was a goal that once seemed impossible to me. I ran on faith and arrived at the finish line and it was a moment that changed my life. I'm working hard to know that feeling again. 

Vermont 100 Mile Endurance Run

I was terribly disappointed when I injured myself and could not run the Vermont 100. I was glad however that sitting the race out meant I could revisit a personal photography project I am passionate about. The project is a series of portraits of 100 miler runners at mile 0 and less than five minutes after crossing the finish line. My assistant Doug Stroud and I stayed awake for a total of 33 hours to capture images from the course and to be set up and ready to shoot after portraits 15 short hours after the race start at 4 a.m.We shot around 130 before and after portraits and ended up with a total of seven selects that I feel are strong enough to add to the series.
The ever talented and amazing Drew Geraci created a fantastic multimedia of the race. Check it out here! 

Running Hope Through America

 Lisa Smith-Batchen and Sister Mary Beth Llyod the day before their epic journey for children in need.

I'm still amazed and I am sure I always be when I think about what my friend and running coach Lisa Smith-Batchen has accomplished. If you are inspired by her accomplishment please consider supporting Running Hope Through America and help make a difference for the children Lisa runs for. 

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Top Runner Completes Record Cross-Country Journey

Lisa Smith-Batchen Conquers 50 Miles in 50 States...In 62 Days


The numbers alone are staggering: 2500 miles, 50 states, 62 days, 3 airline flights, 15 pair of shoes, and roughly 8 million footsteps. But however it's measured, one thing is for certain--Lisa Smith-Batchen's quest, named Running Hope Through America, has been successfully completed.

“I never strayed from the plan or the commitment to complete this mission. It’s been an amazing journey,” said Lisa upon completing the run in her hometown of Driggs, Idaho.

The ultramarathon champion, a veteran of extreme foot races worldwide, has multiple race wins to her credit. But nothing could prepare her--physically or mentally--for the strain that she faced during this recent cross-country odyssey. Logistics often demanded that she finish the day's 50 miles, jump into her support RV, and eke out a few hours of sleep en route to the next state. Crushing fatigue threatened to derail her efforts, but Lisa was undeterred from accomplishing her record-setting goal.

The beneficiary of Lisa's superhuman effort, Religious Teachers Filippini--a human-rights organization devoted to helping the poorest children and women survive--has received financial support from Lisa that tallies over $800,000 in the past five years alone. Using epic desert runs and bicycle rides, Lisa has inspired thousands of donors to support orphans and families affected by the worldwide AIDS crisis, malnutrition, poverty, and war.

For Running Hope Through America, the fundraising bar was raised substantially--to a goal of $1 million. Helping her accomplish that goal was Sister Mary Beth Lloyd, one of Lisa's support crew and longtime friend. Sister Mary Beth, who herself ran 20 miles each day during Lisa's journey, is a member of the Religious Teachers Filippini organization and served as one of Lisa's biggest supporters.

A crew of 4 kept Lisa on schedule and provided food, beverages, massages, and moral support. Along the route, countless people joined Lisa--some to accompany her on foot, and others to help raise funds and awareness for the needs of orphans.

While final fundraising tallies are not yet totaled, the goal of raising $1 million will continue, through the work of Lisa’s organization, The Dreamchaser Foundation. “People are seeing the goodness behind helping a child, and even a dollar
makes a difference...and every one of us can make a difference,” says Lisa.

“This is definitely the most difficult undertaking I’ve ever done, and I can’t imagine I’ll take on anything more difficult. But at the end of the day, I feel absolute joy in
the entire purpose of this,” Lisa explains. “The greatest lesson is we are all in this together. Each one of us is equally important and equally gifted individuals. When you figure out your talents and motivations, and go for it, magic happens.”

To learn more about Lisa, her compelling success story, and Running Hope Through America, see www.RunHope.com and www.dreamchaserevents.com.

About Lisa Smith-Batchen
Lisa's athletic resume includes a mind-boggling list of triathlons, marathons, ultra-marathons, and adventure races that span two decades. Wins at the legendary Badwater Ultramarathon (135 miles through California's Mojave Desert) and the Marathon des Sables (6-day stage race across Morocco's Sahara Desert) top her list of running achievements. Eleven years after her Badwater debut, she decided to double the standard race distance, and is now the only woman to have completed the "Badwater Double,” also known as the "Death Valley 300.” In addition, Lisa has completed three Eco-Challenge (expedition-length) adventure races and multiple Ironman-distance triathlons and ultracycling (500+ mile) events.

Lisa's accomplishments in the fundraising arena mirror her success in sport. To date, she has raised over $4.5 million for Religious Teachers Filippini.

Stories about Lisa's achievements have appeared on the covers of The NY Times, The LA Times, The Washington Post, Running Times Magazine. Additionally, she has appeared in Runner’s World, Sports Illustrated for Women, ESPN Magazine, Outside Magazine, Ultrarunning and numerous other national and international publications. Television coverage has included segments on ESPN, Discovery Channel, ABC’s Wide World of Sports, NBC’s Nightly News with Tom Brokaw and Good Morning America.

Contact: Lisa Smith-Batchen at 307-413-2227 or lisa@dreamchaserevents.com

You can find my photography blog over here

I've made some changes and moved my photography blog. You can find that blog over here.
http://blog.tomsperduto.com/http://blog.tomsperduto.com/

This blog is about my life as an ultramarathon runner seeking on the trails.
I hope you enjoy.

Lessons from Umstead

       Iphone pick shot the day before the Umstead 100 in Raleigh, NC

I have thought a lot about the Umstead 100 mile endurance run over the last two months. Umstead was my first DNF (did not finish) and it has been haunting me. I have been told by many experienced ultra runners that if you do this sport long enough you will DNF. I have also been told by many that they are part of the experience of ultra running. The thing about Umstead that keeps nagging at me is the simple truth that I could have kept running. I was battling some bad stomach issues from the beginning of the race and it was that excuse I used when I finally called it quits at mile 62. To be honest, It was probably more like mile 50 or so when I called it quits in my mind. The memory I will carry with me most from Umstead was how I convinced myself to quit. I was not feeling well, I was freezing, I had blisters again, I could not remember being even half as tired in Brazil at mile 120 as I was at mile 50, no matter how hard I trained I was still 20 pounds to heavy for this race. I was adding up all the reasons in my mind and making a case for myself to quit.  The one that sealed the deal for me was the one that bothers me most. I did not have anything to prove. I ran 135 miles in Brazil, I sprinted to make the final cutoff at the Oil Creek 100, it's ok to drop from this one. There will be others. Today is just not my day. I remember the last six miles or so to the aid station where my car was.  Some of the longest miles of my life. My mind knew the race was over and mentally I was in a different place. I know from the experience that once I quit in my mind it's game over. There is no going back. When I told the race volunteer that I was dropping I was humiliated. I knew I could keep going. So did he. I just did not want to. I remember watching runners from the warmth of my car before heading back to the hotel. I cried. I could not remember why I was there. I couldn't remember why I wasn't still running.

There is a memory from running the Oil Creek 100 I will never forget. A runner told me around mile 70 he was dropping at the next aid station. He said he was done. It just wasn't his day.  I couldn't understand it at the time. I remember thinking  to myself vividly "They will cart me away before I quit this race. There will be nothing of me. I will not quit."

I have learned many things from Umstead.


If I  can keep moving forward, I will. If I DNF ever again it will be for a reason I can live with.


So all in all I am glad I ran Umstead. I needed the lessons. I needed the experience.


I will run Umstead again. But, there will never, ever, be another Umstead.

Photographing Running Heroes

      Lisa Smith Batchen and her best friend and Godmother Sister Mary Beth Llyod in Morristown,      NJ,  the day before they begin their "Running Hope Through America" journey of 50 miles in 50 states in 62 states to raise money for needy children.


I had the opportunity to photograph portraits my friends Lisa Smith Batchen and Sister Mary Beth Llyod the day before they began the journey of a lifetime and something that has never been done before. Running 50 miles in 50 states in 62 days.

     Lisa Smith Batchen - one of the world's top endurance athletes.

Sister Mary Beth Llyod - "the running nun" and a woman on an international mission to help children orphaned by AIDS and living in households headed by children. 

 
To support Lisa and Sister Mary Beth and to help the children please visit: http://www.runhope.com

Thanks for stopping by. 

The Brazil 135 - My Journey on the Path of Faith

                            A view from Eagles Peak the highest point in the race

For two days I have been thinking about what to write that could express just how I feel about completing the Brazil 135 Mile Ultra Marathon. The experience has changed my life. When I think about the race, I remember the mountains but they are not first in my mind. What I will always remember first is the relationships. I will remember the love.

First and foremost, I am proud that TEAM USA all finished the race while raising more than $15,000 to support Casa Nossa, a local mission that serves homeless and low-income girls, helping to educate them, teach them productive skills and keep them off the streets and safe from prostitution, crime and drugs. The funds will pay for the construction of a gymnasium to be used for education and sports activities.

I was fortunate to have in my opinion one of the world’s greatest endurance runners and two time winner of the Brazil Jungle Marathon, Jacqueline Terto, as my pacer for the race. She did not speak English. I did not speak one word of Portuguese. During the 57 hours and 50 minutes it took us to travel the 135 miles we became more than friends. We developed a bond beyond words because we didn’t need them.  We are both the same and we knew each other’s hearts. I will always remember crying on the trail in the middle of the night. Both of my feet completely covered in blisters. I will remember Jacqueline praying for my feet and us moving forward – always moving forward. Jacqueline would look me in the eye, squeeze my hand and say “Focus, Finish.” I will remember Jacqueline always going ahead before me to make sure there were no Cobras in our path. I will remember us hugging and crying together surrounded by the mountains in the most beautiful place I have ever seen on earth. I will remember us laughing hysterically after we were chased by a bull. 

The Brazil 135 is the most difficult foot race in Brazil, it is run on the hardest, most challenging segment of the Caminho da Fé (Path of Faith or Way of Faith), the most difficult Brazilian pilgrimage path.  The primary objectives of the Caminho da Fé pilgrimage are the experience of moments of reflection and faith through the exercise of walking - the integration of man with nature and with religion.  The Way of Faith is a route marked by yellow arrows and consists of

stretches of dirt roads, asphalt, trails within farms and railroad tracks. It takes, on average, 12 to 15 days to finalize the pilgrimage on foot, or, if you choose to participate in the Brazil 135, you have 60 hours. The course boasts about 30,000 feet of cumulative ascent and 28,000 feet of cumulative descent. With only ten flat miles in the race, by the finish line the runner will have completed a course that is analogous to climbing up and down Mt. Everest.

There were moments of clarity on the Path of Faith that will forever define me. My faith led me to run this race and it’s my faith that saw me through. It’s my faith that I take with me from the mountains of Brazil and it’s my fear of sharing my faith with others that I leave behind. My life is one of a constant seeking of God, but before the Brazil 135 many of my closest friends did not know this about me. It’s an area of my life I have kept private except for those that I have been drawn to share it with. I have never felt comfortable sharing my relationship with God with others. I am always in fear of turning others away from the greatest joy I have ever known. I believe a simple truth and it’s what brought me to run the Brazil 135. I believe Jeremiah 29-13 “If you Seek Me with all your heart and all your soul, you will Find Me.” That is what brought me to Brazil. It’s why I ran my first 100 miler in October. It’s the reason why I run. When I run I feel close to God. In the mountains of Brazil I felt connected to God in ways I have never dreamed but not just in the experience of the race. More so in the people I met. People like Ashley Loucks & Michelle Purcell who were meant to be part of my journey.  I will always remember them praying for me as I began my descent to the finish line and our ride together to the start.  People like Jimmy Dean Freeman who met me on the trail and ran the last five hours or so with me and who has a knack for knowing what you need to hear when you need to hear it. Jimmy gave me his socks off his feet to cover my blisters that were now in Crocs because the pain had become to much for my running shoes. My amazing crew Antonio and Christina who met to my every need and who also became like family to me. Pizza in the middle of nowhere is not easy to find but they found a way. I will remember them always. I will also remember the simple acts of love that moved me so deeply. Like Tony Portera and Jarom Thurston leaving my name in the dirt so close to the end of my journey. A simple gesture such as that will forever be one of the greatest memories of my life. These people and so many more were strangers a week ago but are now in my heart forever and I say with no hesitation that I love them all.

  My name left on the Path of Faith by Jarom Thurston and Tony Portera

 

There are other moments from this experience that I am still processing. Like the giant Bible in the hotel lobby at the finish line opened to the book of Jeremiah and lit beautifully in the window light. The sight of it almost brought me to my  knees.                                      

When I began this journey I thought it may be a test of faith. Possibly to see if I had the courage to attempt what I thought was impossible but knowing for some reason God wanted me there. I thought it might be a lesson in humility and that I would fail miserably. It was somewhere during the race I learned that this experience was a celebration. It was once again me running with my friend. This time we had others along for the journey – something new to me and a new beginning.

So I guess, here I am making an open declaration of my faith and my love of God. There is nothing more important to me. That is my journey. It is one that will never end.

I’d like to end with the first thing I read once my eyes opened after being awake for more than 59 hours and moving forward for 57 of them and 50 minutes. I no longer believe in coincidences and I can never describe what reading these words did to me. But I can say this – God’s greatest joy is our company. It’s our reason for being and it’s a choice. I have made mine and I am moving forward.

"I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move."

Matthew 17:20

Me and my amazing pacer Jacqueline Terto who got me through the race. 

A video of me finishing the race shot by Tony Portera can be seen here.

Acclimate your mind and the rest will follow

I had a wonderful day in Brazil. Nothing excites me more or calms my nerves better than getting creative behind my camera and making pictures. I was able to do that today and it was an incredible stress relief. Back in the day when I first fell in love with making pictures, my wife would call it my shield. I would hide behind it when I was bored, nervous or shy. Today, it was a shield for all three feelings and it worked beautifully. With such wonderful new friends here in Brazil I know I can relax and be myself but the bottom

line is wow … it’s intimidating being here. Listening to some of the stories of these runners is simply awe-inspiring. It’s a glimpse into what every person can accomplish with the right attitude. I am honored to have the opportunity to photograph them. I am humbled to run with them and call them friends. Listening to them talk about why they run for days on end and getting a glimpse into what makes them tick is a real treat. It reminds me of my many friends who I met photographing the MMT 100 and the Grindstone 100 and who got
my mind racing about my own dreams and self made limitations. Ok … so here is an example that I find just simply mind blowing. There are three runners here, probably more I will meet tomorrow, that are not only running the Brazil 135 Mile Ultra Marathon on Saturday but are also running the Arrowhead 135 Mile Ultra Marathon in Minnesota in –38F temperatures FIVE DAYS LATER. I am finally wrapping my brain around the fact that hey, yo, hello, I am here in Brazil and in two days I will be running 135 miles up bigger mountains than I probably have ever seen in heat and horrendous humidity and non-stop rain. They are doing that then going to the other extreme and running 135 miles in –38 temperatures five days later with jet lag. Did I mention they, among others here, are also Badwater 135 Mile finishers?  Have you heard of that race? It’s 135 miles in Death Valley California in temperatures that can reach 130 degrees. It’s so hot your shoes melt to the road. The beauty of it all, to me anyway, is that each and every one of these people are special yes, but also just like you and me. They have day jobs when not out doing what the rest of the world cannot comprehend. They have just realized that they do not have any limits except for the ones we make for ourselves. Anything is possible if you have the courage to try. Anything can be done if you are willing to endure. Who knows? You may just enjoy yourself along the way. I saw a tattoo tonight on a runner’s leg of stars that make a southern cross. It can be seen here in Brazil if you are lucky enough to catch a night without rain this time of year. The first night this runner didn’t see it because it rained all night. So he ran, and ran all day and then saw it while running into the second night of the race. Something about that story moves me. It inspires me. Seeing those stars moved him so deeply he tattooed the memory on his body forever. I can picture him exhausted, but looking up at that cross made of stars and being totally content. Happy. Possibly happier than he has ever been. That’s a moment and I want it as my own.

I have feared this race from the moment I was accepted to run. My hands were shaking and I had tears in my eyes as I loaded my bags into the car that would take me to the airport. I felt nauseous on the plane coming here. I questioned myself endlessly. What makes you think you can do something like this? Well, I’m here in Brazil two days from beginning the journey and the questions are over. I have the answers. Because God loves hanging with me when I run. And because I can.

Brazil 135 ... Here I Come

In about 30 minutes I will be leaving my home for the airport and the long trip to Brazil where I will take on the greatest challenge of my life – the Brazil 135 Mile Ultra Marathon.

I wish I could say the last few weeks leading up to the race have been good to me, but they have not. I have been plagued with fear and self doubt and admit I considered calling it quits more than once. I have felt run down and not at all prepared for the race that is to come. That’s just the way it is.

As I sit here now, I can feel the tide turning. I am about to step off on the greatest adventure of my life and though I don’t feel prepared for what feels like an overwhelming and impossible undertaking I realize that I don’t have to. All I need to do is show up, stand up and run on faith. My running has never been about anything else.

This is the greatest challenge of my life and it will not be easy. In fact, I can’t even begin to comprehend the amount of discomfort I will endure. It’s 135 miles. I have 60 hours to complete. It’s all up or down except for about 10 miles. How did I get here again?

In a time like this I will let the words of my four-year-old daughter carry me out the door when she sings in my Ipod while sleeping quietly down the hall. “Your heart is bigger than the mountain, Daddy.” “Just be like Rocky, go the distance.”

It’s time to find out it if she is right.