Lessons from my 4th Race (1st Half Marathon)

Yesterday, I completed my first half marathon, the Ashland Half Marathon (there's also a 5K so it's official the Ashland Half Marathon & 5K). I say first because, by definition, it was, but also because I plan to do at least another (I'm already signed up for the Runner's World Heartbreak Hill Half in June - join our team by selecting "newbodies" if you're doing it!). It was a pretty emotional lead up as I've been battling a few different injuries, and had to switch my shoe plan at the very last minute with no real testing of the shoes I was to run in. For anyone who runs in races, you know that you don't mess with your race plan last minute, and you definitely don't use something you've never used before the race. I had run in these shoes before (Adidas Adipure Gazelle), and liked them, but have had issues with them lately, so I was nervous. They also don't really have much cushioning at all, so if I had to back off from toe striking, I was putting my knees at risk of injuries from heel striking without any shock absorption.

I'm getting ahead of myself...this is my fourth lessons from a race, so be sure to read the first (actually a series of 3 posts), second and third.

Race day was a beautiful New England Autumn day in historic Ashland, MA.  The Boston Marathon used to start in Ashland, and they built a part (called Marathon Park) complete with plaques to commemorate the fact. This was where the race started and ended.  It had rained at about 5 AM, so the ground was slightly wet (another thing my shoes aren't great at dealing with).  674 attempted the Half (577 finishers), and another 454 went for the 5K (408 finishers) - all grouped together at the starting line. I was lucky to get a spot about 4 people back from the start, which made for a much better beginning than in any other race I've been in where I've had to contend with lots of people in front of me that I needed to weave my way through (I don't like running in a crowd, so I try to break out and find a good slot in the first half mile).

In addition to lots of spectators and race officials, racing legend Bill Rodgers was there.  He won Boston and NYC four times each on his way to winning 22 marathons globally. Pretty cool to see him.

I should just say, having a quality race organizer and race management company makes ALL the difference.  Hats off to the entire organizing team for the Ashland Half and to Race Menu, who managed the registration, course, timing, logistics, etc. I've done a few races that have had professional race management companies on the job, and it's night and day. The courses are the right length, the mile markers are in the right places (almost always - RaceWire and CitySports, I'm looking at you!), and results are posted quickly and correctly. I've been in two events that lacked real race management, and they ranged from ok by a bit janky (results posted as a PDF image a few days later) to dangerous (courses wildly off to the tune of 40% extra distance). Race Menu did a great job, as did the race organizers. Kudos and thanks.

Getting to my experience in the race itself, I've never run this far before (I should have, but injuries prevented my training from getting that far), so I had a mix of not knowing how I'd do and the idea that every step after 8.99 miles (my previous longest run) was going to be a PR. That actually was a pretty cool motivator as the race went on because I felt accomplishment with each passing stride. It allowed me to relax a little on judging my pace or performance (though I was happy with both).  As for the unknown of whether I could do the distance, I wasn't really all that worried barring the idea of an injury (which could happen at any point in any run, so I wasn't more or less concerned here, per se) since I'm generally very confident in my cardio-respiratory abilities.

The course was pretty hilly, and I was concerned about this going into the race since I don't get much hill training in my running routes (my longer runs are commutes to work, which tend to be across pretty flat terrain). That concern definitely played in my mind more than it should have. I found myself thinking about upcoming hills too much, and in an unhelpful way with thoughts like, "I'm at mile X.X, I think the big hill starts soon!"  Or, "Wait, why am I climbing now? There isn't supposed to be a hill at this point!"

The main hills were at mile 5.5, 7 (the highest climb), 10.5 (short, but very steep) and 12, with undulating hills in between.  From 7 to 10.5, it was a gradual downhill, so I figured I'd be able to deal with those last two pretty well since I'd sort of be rebuilding for 3.5 miles. Turns out after 7, I realized that the hills were a good thing. I, being a forefoot striker, run them differently than most of the other runners. I also had done a little research on Chi running, and employed that approach to get up the hills to beautiful effect.  I shortened and quickened my stride (pretty dramatically, actually), which lowered my effort considerably. It also used my muscles (and hit my now thoroughly blistered feet) differently, so it was sort of a rest for the main tools I was using in the race. I at least kept my pace while others lagged and burned out.  More importantly, the successful way I was dealing with the hills gave me a ton of confidence to keep going while also not spending my energy.  I actually had more trouble on the downhills because of my blisters, and found myself wishing for them to end or to turn up again.  Crazy, I know, but I was longing for the hills.  This feeling got so strong that I literally didn't even know I had crested the last hill.

I'm the one under the yellow triangle

The course is downhill from that last peak, so you can build some good speed coming into the finish. I kicked as hard as I could, but I was definitely not able to give it my all due to my blisters, and how I had been compensating for them (which lead to a lot of pain in my left ankle and the middle of the outside edge of my right foot).  Still, I was in full sprint for the last 100 yards, and felt amazing.  I came through the finish, stopped my watch, and realized what I had done.  My goal was to break 1:50. With my injuries, I said to myself that the only thing I really wanted was a sub-2:00 finish, and pushing harder might lead to a DNF.  The slowest pace I could run would be a 9'06" to still break 2 hours.  I had been watching my pace occasionally, and was running sub 8-minute miles for the first half of the race.  As the blisters got worse, I trended back toward 8'10".

If you're good with math, you know where this is going. If not, then know that I beat both goals. I finished in 1:46:24 by the chip time, and 1:46:28 by the gun (gotta love a spot near the front of the starting line - see the yellow triangle in the shot of the start above). I placed 113th.  I had a dream time of 1:45 before I got injured, and I'm quite sure I would have nailed that if I was totally fine and in the right shoes. Rather than feeling like I could have done better and missed my real goal, I look at that as knowing that I did what I had dreamt of doing.

As I've said many times over, I got a great lesson in the power of the mind here. The first three or four miles were mentally tough as the unknowns were out there (hills, distance, injuries).  As my body got into a groove, and I started to see how I could tackle the hills so well, time and distance stopped mattering so much.  As I broke through to PR territory for longest run ever, I was totally unaware of how long I had been running, and totally unphased by how much more distance I still had to cover.

That felt amazing.

So I ran for nearly two hours, and it felt indistinguishable from running for a tenth of that time.

Where do I go next?  I have a Ragnar Ultramarathon Relay in May, and a half in June. I'm very seriously debating doing the Chicago Marathon in October since I'll be well on my way with training for Ragnar and the half.  Whether I do it or not, the lessons I unlocked for myself, and the very deep way I unlocked them have really helped me get to a new level of enlightening.my.body. How will you unlock your potential and enlighten.your.body?

Preflections on a milestone I'm heading toward

In less than 48 hours from now, I will have finished my first half marathon. I say 'less than 48' because that means I will have done so in under 2 hours, which has been my backup goal time.  My original goal was sub-1:45, but I've been plagued by various tendonitis issues and a deep pain in my left femoral head.  While most of it has resolved, I'm left with one remaining injury and an insufficient amount of training.  The question is whether it's truly insufficient in the grand scheme of things, or just relative to what you're supposed to do for such a race.  I've not yet run longer than 9 miles in one go, which is really the only piece of it that concerns me beyond whether any injury flairs up enough for me not to even be able to walk to the finish (I could walk the course and still get in before the cutoff, but not likely if my remaining injury is really bad).

Stepping back from the cloud of injury and what it has meant for my training, I'm able to look at what I'm about to do, and feel a growing sense of pride.  I call this post a 'preflection' because it's like I'm reflecting on what I'm about to do rather than what I've just done. I'm using this as a chance to center my mind on the goal, on the idea that any time will be a PR since I've not yet covered this distance, and even if I have, I've never done it in an official race.

Preflecting allows me to see that, and also to ignore the deviation I've had to take from the prescribed training path, or the notion that you have to at least have run X miles before doing a half.  I know that my cardio-respiratory abilities are sufficient to get through the race.  I know that my muscular endurance is sufficient.  The only true variable is my mindset, and I know that is something that can be controlled.  I've seen it first hand, whether climbing multiple mountains back to back despite a major fear of heights (and horrible weather), or going from doing a 100K bike ride to it being a surprise 183K and feeling perfectly fine the next day (save for numbness from sitting on a bike saddle for 6 hours).

I have it in me. Nothing else matters, nor should I let anything else matter.  I will be PRing. I will have a finisher's medal. And, most importantly, I will feel amazing.  I will enlighten.my.body. Now it's up to you to enlighten.your.body.

Review: ENERGYbits

UPDATE: I am not supporting this product due to a decision they've made on their marketing during the Olympics. I feel it's offensive and demeaning to women. The product works, but I feel you should support good products from good companies. I'd pass on these.

the buildup
ENERGYbits are a spirulina pill that you down to get a load of protein (64% protein) and nutrients with basically nothing else to help power you for exercise and contribute to your health.  I've had my eye on them for a while, and have been really curious to try them as I myself have added spirulina to my diet for its various health benefits.  I was lucky enough to be offered a free trial for the purpose of this review.

what it is & how it works
Spirulina is an algae that is a 'super food'.  Not to over-use an over-used buzz word, but spirulina is a nutrient-rich plant that grows naturally in the ocean but can be cultivated hydroponically and organically, which is how ENERGYbits grows theirs. It is loaded - loaded - with various nutrients and vitamins. It also happens to be high in protein for what it is. Word in the healthy eating scene is that the protein in it is more bio-available (available for your body to absorb and use) than protein from many other sources (nuts, meat, soy, etc).

It's highly absorbable and rich in nutrients your body thrives on. What it isn't is tasty. Spirulina has a very 'green' flavor, as the marketing material ENERGYbits sends out says.

The product comes as little tablets, and they recommend taking 30 of them 10-15 minutes before your workout. I made the mistake of taking a bite at one point, and was left with the very 'green' taste for a couple of hours (not the few minutes that the marketing material mentions - swish all you want, them suckers stick to your molars like cement...very gross tasting cement).

A key thing that the team at ENERGYbits tried to stress to me is about the quality of their product. Spirulina quality varies greatly by how it's made (or harvested), when it's dried, etc. Ocean-harvested sounds natural (like free-range or grass-fed livestock), but actually it can be less ideal since the spirulina is exposed to pollutants in our oceans from trash or the Fukushima nuclear fall out (spirulina is native to Pacific waters). ENERGYbits grows their product organically and hydroponically, and dries it when they're going to make the pills, so it stays fresh longer. They also recommend refrigerating the tabs (not necessary, but better if you can), and trying to consume them within 3-5 days of pulling them from the fridge.  You get a bag of them, plus a little tin that you can put a serving into to take with you so the main stash can stay in the fridge.

They have four varieties, spanning energy, recovery, vitality (really immunity strength) and weight loss benefits.  I have the original ENERGYbits that are 100% spirulina. Some of their products add to or replace the spirulina with chlorella (another algae).

my impressions
I definitely didn't like taking them (I did them 5 at a time since I figured trying to swallow 30 at once would be problematic), but that was over within a minute. What I found on my run (6 miles in just over 50 minutes with a pre-existing injury) was that I wasn't lacking for energy, nor was my energy ever spiky. I have used Gu, Recovery Beans and Honey Stinger Gummies, and definitely notice how the energy 'comes on', but then fades.  I wouldn't usually need to take something for a 6 miler, but I wanted to test the product, and I have been dragging lately.

For reference, my injury is thought to be tendonitis in my left big toe, but I'm finding my joint is full of blood when I take my shoe off (inside - my joint is blue - not outside with blood staining anything), and my skin is all leathery.  I think my shoe is rubbing on the joint way too much, and its gotten to a point where it's really injuring me. It feels like a stress fracture, but it isn't (I've had x-rays and been checked).  Anyway, enough about that, but you can imagine how that might be impacting my performance.

Setting aside the impact of my injury, I definitely had the energy I needed to keep up. I had some negative split action as I warmed up, rather than the flat splits I usually do with a morning run like this where I don't use any energy.

Aside from the energy delivery, I was also really curious about how my stomach would do. I have friends who are triathletes who talk about the issues you face when you have a stomach full of water and Gu after going for hours. With something like Gu, you need to keep sucking the stuff down every couple of miles (if you follow their advice), and my own use has backed that up since the sugar-based energy runs out pretty quickly. Since I didn't find that with ENERGYbits, those 30 tabs were enough, and then my stomach wasn't stuck processing all kinds of sugars, and thus my blood supply didn't have to be directed toward digestion.

So I'd say my stomach was ok from this.  That said...

my depressions
I often end my runs and get a stomach ache. It generally passes after an hour or so. The day I did this run with ENERGYbits, I was a bit nauseous all day. That could have nothing to do with the product as my allergies were kicking up and I felt kind of miserable in general. I'd have to test them again to know if it was the bits or not. I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt here, and assume it isn't them, so maybe rather than calling this section "my depressions" I'd call it "my potential concerns".  I have a standard review format I'm trying to stick with, though, so here we are with depressions.

UPDATE: I used them again yesterday before some speed work, and was totally fine. I'd say I'm sure that the energy bits had nothing to do with how I felt after my first use. Unfortunately, they couldn't make running on the treadmill non-soul-crushingly-boring, but they did help me keep my energy levels consistently where they needed to be.  I cranked a quick run slightly quicker than I usually do - and that's with my foot injury, so good stuff.  I was aiming for two 7-minute miles, but did 2.1 miles at 6'42". I tend to run in the low-to-mid-8s, so this is a quick pace for me.

to buy or not to buy?
So, what's the verdict. Pending confirming whether they caused my gastric issues (which I'm doubtful of), I'd say I'm very positive on them.  I'd be curious about a longer run or something like a century ride where you could be out there for 6+ hours (depending on speed and course).  You may need to re-up.  But I really did like how even the energy was. It was nice not to think about it or crave it.

That's really what fueling strategy is about. Find the fuel that works for you to keep you going without feeling weird or spiky, and let the exercise enlighten.your.body.

As you saw in my update at the top, while I'm good with spirulina, I can't recommend ENERGYbits to people because of some really demeaning marketing they're doing. Call me prude, but it's not about that, the slogan they're using is just offensive to women and reminds me of college days with guys trying to get girls drunk to have their way. What on Earth does this have to do with a natural energy product? Nothing.

Another Year Older, Still The Healthiest I've Ever Been

On the eve of another birthday, it's a great time to reflect on my life and where I am with the preservation of it - that is, my health.  I made a complete transformation of my life in the summer of 2011, and have been able to say at each birthday since then that I'm in the best health of my life.  This is the third time in a row I can do that, and that is something I'm feeling incredibly proud and empowered by.

I'm healthier than I've ever been in terms of my body composition, cardio-respiratory ability, muscular performance, cholesterol, etc.

Each year that I've been able to say this, I've had a voice inside saying something to the effect of, "Enjoy it while it lasts, because you will crest and regress sometime in the near future." That voice assumes that, as I age, I won't be able to stay as healthy. Joints will break down, skin, arteries and muscle will lose their elasticity, and my heart and lungs will naturally reduce their capacity as the tissue ages and tires. It's what aging is all about.

That may be true, but that doesn't mean it is going to be the case anytime soon. More importantly, it doesn't mean I need to act like it will be the case anytime soon.

To me, it's the mindset that drives being healthy. If I give in to the notion that I'm too old to be healthier than I've ever been, I will start to make choices - consciously or subconsciously - that make that presumption a reality. I may cut myself some slack in a workout. I may not try as hard with my food choices because, hey, what's the point since I'm old and can't change that?

No. That's not how I plan to age. I've worked too hard and enjoyed the process and fruits of my labor too much to write my abilities off due to my need to select an older age bracket when filling out surveys. Yes, I am moving into another standard marketing demographic as of 2am tonight. Unfortunately, I am not moving into another age bracket for running, which is a shame since I have my first half marathon in about a week, am dealing with several tendonitis injuries, and could really use a lower bar to place against! (I'm kidding around - my wife doesn't think anyone will get that I'm joking, so I best be clear - I'm not really worried about where I place.)

I was talking with a friend/fellow-health-nut about how I've gotten into all these activities after my supposed physical prime, and she was saying that many of the top triathletes are in their late 30s. Sure enough, I know a couple, and their age averages out to 40. They're also in better shape than pretty much anyone I know. They chose to keep progressing on the path of health, with each year serving not to work against their health but to be another year they get to work on their health and build it to the next level.

I will age with the idea that I'm an athlete. I'm a healthy person making healthy choices in every aspect of my life.  Do you know what will come of that approach? It will be my reality because the approach will set the actions that deliver on being healthier than I've ever been.

For me, I'm framing myself as healthy and being on a quest of continued health. What about you? How do you look at your age, your aging, and your health? Are you giving into the little voice telling you it's not in your power to become healthier as you age, or are you going to enlighten.your.body?

Exercise vs Working Out

What is the difference between Exercise and Working Out?

Sure, this is really a semantics question, but I want to peel back the outside and get a layer deeper on this question. I've had to take about 10 days off of all real cardio due to an Achille's tendon issue, and it's really put in perspective what I've come to appreciate and what I've come to view as something I have to do.

I have been incredibly lucky lately to be able to commute under my own power (or "CUYOP" as I've called it, and want people hashtagging on Twitter!). That means every day I've gotten at least an hour of quality, outdoor exercise. On the days I've run (which includes a 4 mile bike ride), it's been more like an hour and a half. I really have come to appreciate it, not just for how it lets me get much more exercise into my day without sacrificing on other commitments (except my prior commitment to sit in traffic or be stuck on a disabled train), but also for how it gets me out there, breathing air, bobbing and weaving around traffic or other people, choosing dynamically where I go and what I do, etc. It also has allowed me to get a great unwind period after work before I get home.  This - outside, working hard, enjoying the world, and actually moving vs. being stationary - is what I would call 'exercise'.

Exercise lets me run along the Thames or the Charles River (like in the pic below) and feel completely uplifted and inspired. How could you run in those settings and not feel that way? You look at Pacific Northwest trail running through the mountains or their gorgeous forests, and you see how inspired you'd be burning your calories there. Or you run in a more urban setting and people look at you impressed with your effort while you work various ancillary muscles as you negotiate pedestrians, cars, bikes, cross walks, etc. Complete, inspiring, holistic fitness.

The alternative to this is to be in my basement or at the gym, on a piece of cardio equipment, watching a show, reading a magazine or trying not to watch the clock tick down to zero while listening to music. It does the job (sometimes with more caloric burn), is convenient, and allows me to wear clothes I shouldn't be seen in public in (like compression gear without covering it up with shorts or a shirt) - caveat, I wear clothes in public that no one should have to see me in when I ride my road bike, so apologies to anyone who has seen me riding.

But there's something so much 'less' about working out. It's not that it's bad, but it just doesn't do for the mind what exercise does. As I've said before, I'm not about physique so much as total, holistic health. Whole body fitness, as I put it in a recent blog post. Sure, you can achieve your physical goals just fine with a piece of cardio equipment and some weights in a gym. Will you become a well-rounded, complete, fit person who isn't just physically an athlete, but feels like an athlete? Possibly, but not like you would by getting out and exercising. At least not as far as I'm concerned.

So, even if you are a gym rat, find even 15 minutes to go for a brisk walk (maybe parking away from the gym and walking there) to get some real, live, exercise. Breath the air. Look at your surroundings. Take it all in, get healthier inside and out, and truly enlighten.your.body.

100 Kilometers = 110 Miles

That is a screen shot from the Google results of a question I asked.  That question is "How many miles is 100K?" 62 and change. But I already knew that since I had run a 10K this summer, and knew it was 6.2 miles, and I'm at least good enough at math to multiply by 10.

Why does this matter? Well, I had signed up to do the Wounded Warrior Project Soldier Ride on September 21st around suburbs West of Boston. If you aren't familiar with the Soldier Ride program, you should get familiar with it. It's pretty amazing. While it aims to raise money via charity bike rides, its main focus is actually on having Wounded Warriors - those who fought for America and were injured in the line of duty (both external, physical injuries and the unseen injuries of brain damage and emotional trauma like PTSD) - train and and ride in the event. The speaker for my ride was a veteran who suffered both kinds of injury, and spoke about how hard it is to be part of such a tight-knit, interdependent team and then coming home to such a contrasting life where your injury also makes you feel incapable. He talked about how the Soldier Ride gives Wounded Warriors that team connection and feeling of not just accomplishment but ability.

The program offers a 22 mile ride (which the Warriors and most people do), a 100K route and a century ride (100 miles).  There was a barbell distribution in sign ups - I didn't talk to a single other person who said they were doing the 100K officially, but I did talk to a few 100 milers who planned to cut out early as the ride went through their home town.

It is for this noble cause that I decided to push myself, and sign up for a distance twice what I had ever rode. I had only been riding for about six weeks when I signed up (like, ever, not just six weeks this season - I only started road biking in July, and hadn't ridden a bike in nearly 15 years before that). I believe in my level of fitness, and see myself as an athlete, so I felt I could do it. When I saw the official, final course was set at 45 miles and change, I said, "Not good enough!"  I used my commute to the ride's start and end to get back up to 100K (actually more like 107K) because there was no way I was going to ride for people who made incredible sacrifices for us by cutting short the real goal or taking the easy way out.

Me, MA Gov candidate Evan Falchuk and my dad, pre-race

So, I rode to the event at a leisurely, warm-up pace in the mid-teen miles per hour on what was a very chilly September morning at about 7am. I got to the event, picked up my bib, changed into my riding gear, and met up with some family who were doing the ride, too.  My cousin, who is running for Governor of Massachusetts, did the ride. Not trying to plug him, but I do really appreciate when a person does more than show up and smile, but actually gives of themselves in a real way. This actually wasn't his first time, and his family has attempted it with him in the past, too (his wife was doing it again this year).  My father was also along for the 22 miler, which was great.

Middlesex County Honor Guard (and the GEICO Geccko)

So I put a Gu gel, two Honey Stinger Cherry Cola gummy chews (with caffein - I was very happy with these as they were easy to eat, not messy and gave me a good boost), and a pack of Jelly Belly Recovery Beans in my riding shirt. I decided to eat a Gu about 15 minutes before the ride started, and have a bag of recovery beans so the protein had a chance to get into my system. I should have hung onto one of those, but I had no room in my pockets given that I also had a spare inner tube and a flat repair tools, plus I needed to put my cleat covers into my shirt once we mounted up.

The Middlesex County Sheriff sent the Honor Guard to open the ceremonies, and we heard from the organizers and the Warrior I mentioned above.  There was a lot of cheering, and people were in great spirits.  It's hard not to be for something like this.  Some companies had amazing showings with large teams they had put money behind, like this one from Raytheon (makes sense since they're a major defense contractor and based near the ride's start).

The Raytheon team at the starting arch

One of the most amazing things was to see the Warriors and their bikes. Some of the bikes were pretty standard, but others were altered in ingenious ways to work with the various injuries the Warriors have. Hand bikes were a common site, as were several variants of recumbent bikes. Here's a little shot of the Warrior's corral, where you ca see a couple of them plus the various different bike setups they have.

Wounded Warrior bike corral

So the ride started at 9:25am, and the temp was probably in the low 50s. I was actually shivering at that point from basically not moving for the last hour and a half on a brisk morning (and having very little on). I had chosen a De Marchi bib with a medium-thickness chamois, plus my Zoots Kona Iron Man sleeveless, compression, riding jersey. I was regretting the latter of those choices at that point, but my regret would flip flop as the day went on.

We started off with the Warriors leading the pack followed by their support vehicle.  We did the first few miles in a controlled pack, all riding together in the high-single-digit to 10 mph range. It was really moving and positive - no one was racing, everyone was happy, and it was great to get a view of the Warriors riding.

After a few miles, we could pull in front of the Warriors and start to ride at a pace we'd set. I had never ridden in a road race or pack (or actually ever more than with one other person), so I was really just trying to figure out how to fit in, pick my moments to pull ahead, read the cues of those around me, etc. It reminded me of my second running race, which was super-densely packed and hard to navigate.

After a bit, we started to break apart more, and settle into pace packs. Those doing the 100K and 100M routes turned off onto a different course, leaving the 22 milers to their route.  I waved goodbye to my father, and used the less-dense group to try to pull ahead a bit. I also resigned in my mind to be content finishing and not worrying about whether I was up front or not. I was inexperienced, and while the overall crowd wasn't super elite or anything, there were some very serious looking riders in the mix.  There was also block of four or five guys on Cervélo TT (time trial) bikes that were intent on leading.  Anytime they were behind, they'd pack together, and push ahead, whizzing past us in their super-aerodymic, razor-thin frames. We were in a residential and slightly hilly area with lots of turns and street crossings - not really the place for a TT bike, but they were focused on leading.

That didn't last long.

After about 15 miles, the TTs were a bit spent, and out of their element. A group of about 10 of us pulled to the front, and broke into two packs by the 20 mile mark. Unbelievably to me, I was in the front group with three other guys that I got to know pretty well over the miles that lay ahead. They were not just nice guys and good riders, but helped teach me (whether they knew it or not) about how to ride in a pack and handle the distance.  I was the youngest in the group, but they weren't likely more than another 10 years older than I am.

I had my Garmin bike computer tracking distance (among other things), and watched as the miles ticked by while I took in the scenery. In the back of my mind, I had this fear or missing a turn or more importantly the spot where the 100K and 100M routes split.  I kept a close eye on my Garmin's distance  measurement.

As we hit the 40 mile mark on what was said to be a 45 mile route, we were definitely not within 5 miles of the ride's end, but I figured maybe there's some route I wasn't aware of, so I didn't lose faith. Also at this point, we hit a water station (the second, with the first at 20 miles - but we didn't know this was also the last one). We asked the guy manning the station about the distance, and he had no idea how far we'd come or how far was left. I had two water bottles, but had given one to one of the 100 mile guys in my group, so I took a bottle at the water station to refill my only remaining bottle.  That 100 miler split off as we were not far from his home, so he ended up doing something in the low 40s.  Still, he was pushing, so he put in a good effort, and was a great guy and good rider.

About 30 minutes until the start. Cold but excited!

We entered a park area, and ended up riding for the next two to three miles on a mix of sand, dirt, rocks and moss. Not really what road bikes are meant for, but it was actually kind of fun. It was also a chance to recover a bit as our pace was cut in half to deal with the terrain.  One of our pack slipped on a mossy spot, and wiped out, but was able to recover with some scrapes on his elbow.  The path came to a fork with no markings as to which way to go, so we went with the larger, clearer route. That was a mistake, and we ended up in a model plane air field during a local gathering.  The planes were really cool, but I was starting to worry about how long this ride would be, whether I had enough fuel and water to make it. We were told to stop at a gas station or convenience store if we needed something, but the mainly residential route meant we hadn't seen either of those things in about 20 miles, so we couldn't really bank on that.

We back tracked, and took the other part of the fork only to be joined by a large group of riders that we had previously been quite a ways ahead of.  I was bummed that my sizable lead had been cut to nil as I had been feeling a bit of a high from being the lead 100K rider.

Getting through the rest of the woods, we all largely stayed together, but once we hit the road, those of us that had been leading pulled ahead again.

At this point, I was at 43 miles, and realized the map was just totally wrong, so I best ration my water and remaining fuel (one pack of recovery beans and one pack of Honey Stinger gummies) to get through the next 20 miles.  I used the recovery beans, and kept chugging.

All the while, I looked down at my Garmin, and called out major miles to my pack.  I also was growing increasingly concerned since I knew enough of the local area to know were actually getting farther from the end.

60 miles came and went.  I got really nervous.

100K ticked by.  OK, now what?

Now what was to stay calm. My body actually felt ok. I'm strong, conditioned, and the day was perfect - not too hot, not too windy in most areas - and I had great company that I was enjoying. The only concerns I had were around fuel, water and not having a clue how much was actually left to go. My wife was also feeling sick when I left that morning, and I was already past when I was supposed to be back, so that was weighing on my mind. Luckily, she was doing better and totally awesome and understanding about things when I called her, so I could put that concern out of my head.

All of the sudden at mile 80 (as in 18 miles past the 100K mark), a sign appeared directing 100K riders to the left and 100M riders to the right. I took the left, but wondered if that was a weak choice. I think I could do another 20 miles, and then officially hit 100M during the ride itself (and 120.6 for the day). That said, my concern was whether the remaining distance was 20 miles or maybe far more. Since my course was mapped at 45 miles, maybe there was another 50 miles to go or something? That I was pretty sure I couldn't do without a major refueling, and it would put me out past dark as it was now approaching 2:30 or 3pm. I wasn't sure about any of that since I had stripped my bike of all lighting and reflecting to save weight.  Plus, we hadn't seen a gas station in 60 miles, and hadn't seen a water station in 40, so I didn't want to risk doing so much distance without any additional fuel or water (since I was now out of both).

Knowing I'd at least hit 100 miles for the day (10.3 in, 80 so far, 10.3 back plus whatever I needed to get from that split back to the finish), I took the 100K route.  Just past the 81 mile mark, I hit a gas station. Let me rephrase that - I hit an oasis in the desert. I knew I should get a Coke or Pepsi to get some sugar in my body as I was really feeling the bonk, and figured the caffeine would be a smart idea. I also knew I'd need to buy water - enough to fill my main bottle at the very least. Good thing I had put a $20 in my flat repair bag and had myAmEx on me, too.

When I stepped in, that's when I saw it - the ice cream cooler.  Apparently, Snickers makes an ice cream bar that's the most delicious thing on Earth when you've been riding a bike for four and a half hours. I bought that, a Pepsi and a large bottle of water.

I called home and texted the ride organizer about the course issues. I was less worried about myself than anyone else out there who had paced for 45 or 62 miles and was now at mile 80, no clue how far they had to go, and was out of water, fuel or willpower.

Feeling literally energized, I hit the course and fired up Google Maps on my phone, put in the finish line's address, and tapped for bike directions.  It said I was 10 miles away.  I had been checking periodically throughout the ride, and often got 10 miles as the distance, so I was a bit skeptical, but I started to recognize some of the highway signs I was seeing and what they pointed to.

I followed the course, but soon came to a sign I thought I'd seen before for a split between the 100K/100M and 22M courses. That means I must be near the finish, but is this a new sign, or the one I had seen around 9:45 that morning? With the missing turn sign and the major course mistake that had me doing so much longer of a route, I just couldn't have faith at this point.  I decided to take the 22M route in case it was the same sign, so I knew I'd only have another 10 or so miles to go. Google Map check - 10 miles from the finish.  Of course it is.

Google thinks bikers go much slower than I do. That's demotivating for someone who has been riding for about 5 hours already.  Seeing "50 minutes" for something that should take less than 30 has an effect on you when it only displays time remaining. Add to that how I got it down to 19 minutes from about 40, took the turn it told me to take, and it bounced right up to 37 minutes.  I'm sure the people in the homes I was passing at that moment not only heard me moan, but felt it in their bones.

But don't worry, there's only 10 miles to the finish according to Google Maps.

That's when I saw it. Or him, rather. A guy I had noticed at the start wearing a red cycling jersey with Star Trek across the front. He was on the side of the road, having a drink and rest. I must be on the right path - or at least I be lost with someone else. Either way, I was happy.  I took that emotional boost, and started to really cook.  Google understood my pace, and now told me I was under 10 minutes away (I'll guess it wasn't saying 10 miles at this point).

I had veered from the course directions and was sticking to Google because I had absolutely no faith in the course at this point. Suddenly, a sign appeared with an arrow for "straight ahead" signaling I had rejoined the actual course (maybe I never left it?). A couple more miles, and I could see the finish.

As I cross under where the inflatable blue arch of the start had been (they had cleaned up most of the event setup after the 22 miler and picnic had concluded), I stopped my Garmin.

5:10. That's five hours and ten minutes of riding versus the roughly three hours it should have been. I felt good, actually, and wasn't worried about my ride home.

89.5 miles versus the 45 or 62 it should have been.

6,668 calories burned (not including the fuel I took in, including the big hit from the Pepsi and Snickers, but I definitely still ran a major deficit, and you need to add in my 20.6 mile commute, too).

I downed a veggie and a turkey six inch sub from Subway that they had at the finish, drank a bottle of water, talked to the organizers about the route and the risk to other riders, and hit the road again.  I took a decided slower pace on the return home (about 15 mph vs the high teens and low 20s I had been cooking at much of the day).

Next stop, the shower.  Then I took my son to a local Whole Foods to get some fresh made juice and tell him about the day, and that was that.

Adding in my commute, I did 114 miles.  I biked for six hours and 20 minutes and burned 8,047 calories. I rode at an average pace of 17.5 miles per hour. I was not happy about the course issues and the risk it posed to people, but I was also blown away with what I had accomplished and how well I had done in that accomplishment. I didn't just finish, I performed really strongly, outdoing many more serious bikers who certainly looked the part physically more than I do.

The takeaway

So what have I taken away. There's a clear story of ability, belief, hard work and commitment. There's also a story about trusting your body more than your mind thinks it can or should, as I learned well during the Three Peaks Challenge.

More tactically, there's a definite lesson in fueling and hydration strategy and back up. I would definitely plan for an extra 20 miles or 2 hours of need to be safe - more if I know there's no way out or to get help. I would definitely have taken a second water bottle at the 40 mile station - that would have been the easiest change to make, and I even debated it. I didn't want to carry the weight, but surely it would have been worth it as I know not having to ration my water would have helped my muscles from feeling as worn as they did when I hit that split with the 100M route. I think I would have gone for the 100M if I had that other bottle.

I woke the next day pain-free save for a bit in the left side of where my neck and back meet, and a numbness in an area I'd have to write a new Rüez review to name.  For that issue, I would have chosen a bib with a beefier chamois (I picked my least built up), and have since gone back to my bike fitter about my saddle, which I've changed out for one with a relief channel in the middle. I also found that my saddle (the standard that came with my bike) is about 10mm too narrow for my biology. So I'd have gone back in time to when I bought my bike, and ask to add saddle fitting to my initial setup.

The general lack of pain - either stiffness, sore muscles, etc - and the fact that I worked out the next morning (at a slightly lower intensity on purpose, but I think I could have done the usual) really amazed me. I've had back surgery, double hernia surgery, two left knee ops, right wrist surgery twice and a dislocated left shoulder. I expected to at least have back pain. Not a lick of it during or afterward. Not even stiffness. This is all a testament to the general level of fitness I maintain, the emphasis I've placed on balancing my musculature (this is why I think the left side of my neck hurts and the right doesn't - imbalance somewhere that was pulling unevenly on my neck), and doing proprioceptively rich training (BOSU squats and push ups, running on grass, minimalist shoes), and actually doing all the PT exercises I've been given after each surgery.

If you work hard, you can achieve so much. Honestly, not doing that doesn't interest me at all. How about your? Do you agree that hard work, dedication and belief in your abilities is the way to enlighten.your.body?

Q: What is newbodi.es About? A: Whole Fitness.

Q: What is newbodi.es about? Are you about personal training? Life coaching? Diet ideas? Energy bars? What?

A: Simple, we're about whole fitness.

OK, maybe it's not quite that simple, or maybe that doesn't actually explain things.  By 'whole fitness', I mean that we are about being healthy in every way, shape and form.  newbodi.es aim is to help people transform their complete life into a higher level of health. This means focusing on the body (exercise and dietary habits), but going beyond that into the mind and how we live our lives.

So, yes, we are about personal training. We are about life coaching. We do give diet advice and guidance, and do offer 'energy' bars (if you can call them that - they're really nutrition bars). But the key is what we do to offer these things in an intertwined, holistic manner.

You can be physically fit, and still overall 'unhealthy' because you are overwhelmed by stress, pessimism and anxiety. That is not living healthily. That is living under a cloud (at best). The flip side of this is that you can be mentally very healthy and happy, but your body isn't at the same place, so you live a limited life (either by what your body can't do, how hard it is to do what you want, or quite literally that your life is limited in how long it is due to health factors). That physical health cannot just come from exercise or food choices alone, but rather the combination of the two. Improve the machine while giving it the right fuel for its needs and eliminating the poisons that work against it.

Focusing on any one aspect of health will only provide a local maxima. This is like being in a valley between two hills, and seeing those hills as the highest points around. You can pick which of the two is tallest, and think that's the highest point you can achieve. But if you change your perspective, get out of the valley and see all the peaks around you, then you can find the global maxima. Only then can you achieve it.  Fitness is a valley.  Diet is a valley. Working on your mind is a valley.  Rise above and see across all of them to find the true summit. Climbing that summit is how you enlighten.your.body.