La Misión 100 miler

Well, that's that. I finished my first 100 miler.

Her name was La Misión, blue eyes, blonde hair and 26,000 ft of gain.

Here's a special wave picture that shows you how much fun I had! Luckily, the course isn't very high in terms of elevation, so a weak lung'd normal like me can still participate and have a nice time in the mountains.

Some videos of the route!

First summit. Hail and wind.

Last summit. Sun and wind.

After 27 hours and blah blah blah minutes, I finished 5th overall! It was a hoot!

Truly, it was a great time and I'm very happy with the result. I may or may not choose to get drunk in a couple of days and write a special story about it. 

Love,

Pat.

Stranded on Wirelesslessness Island

I moved out of a nice downtown apartment into a room in a family's cabin near the university where I work. The change has been good. I don't have internet at home anymore, so...I've had to adjust to not constantly soaking in the stagnant digital bathwater of the Innerwet. Infurpet. Analsweat.

You'll simply have to find it in your beautiful, muscular, throbbing, proud, shining, inviting, true, wide-open, close-hewed, wickedly delicious Heart to forgive me, True Believer.

Now, I live about 50 meter from the university's gravel track and the gym. The result was my biggest/bestest training week of the year: 2 hours of squat thrusts and 43:00 minutes of juggling practice.

A rare day that the track isn't covered in couples jogging in the inside lane in the wrong direction, dogs chasing runners, young mothers pushing strollers and people stretching in the middle of track. I have attempted 400m workouts with all of those things going on at the same time. Because I'm an asshole like that.

I raced another 4K at the university a week after the 50 miler. 2nd overall. My buddy, who works in the gym, beat me. He's a mid-16:00 5k'er and I'm a drunk, so...I didn't feel too torn up about my loss. I raced/waddled 50K a couple weeks ago. Daniel and Max beat me, which I was more than happy about. The race, in terms of the location, was a pair of redlipsticked lips puckering up for a greedy kiss. The race, in terms of organization, was rolling over in bed to discover your last-night lady friend is twice your size and twice as hairy...in terms of penis.

I have two weeks until my first 100-mile, jogorgy. Boss walkin' is what I do, baby.

Take a gander, you sweet bitch.

No paragraphs, I swear. Just photos.

El Valle del Elqui is a supposedly mystical valley in Chile. They grow grapes there for making pisco liquor. It's an interesting spot. 

 

Sounds like a solid Friday night to me. 

Too much pisco. Too much beer. Too much bus. 

Home sweet home, after 15 hours in buses. 

Key Essential Strategies in Race Recovery

This is a post I've been working on for several months. This is a topic under-researched and woefully misunderstood.

It's important to recover after racing. This is something we all know. However, just HOW does one best go about recovering? What does it feel like to recover correctly? ...Incorrectly?

For me, the biggest problems have been:

-Confidence: The confidence necessary to take a recovery day and truly relax and let myself "be" within that day. No worries about training.

-Calm: I love running and the physical exertion that it demands. It's difficult for me to feel comfortable throughout the day without a bit of that familiar, cherished fatigue in my legs, etc.

etc?!!? oh god.

So, I've developed a sure-fire, one-step strategy to correctly recovering after a race.

It looks like this: