Time to Play

What ever happened to my 2018 New Year’s Resolution of writing a blog-post once a month? Hmm. I’ll have to get back to that. Let’s knock one out now…

Nature’s all about balance and the final 1/3 of 2018 is proof of that, with equal ups-n-downs. My fourth showing at Run Rabbit Run was tough but I gutted out another top-10 finish, when half the Hare (and Tortoise) field dropped. I did a bunch of Hypoxico sessions on the bike leading in to the race but it didn’t seem to matter once I got over 10,000′ in the brilliant mountains inside Routt National Forest in Colorado. Living in Sonoma County, at 125′ above sea level does, sometimes, have its drawbacks. Since the high elevation essentially put a governor on my effort, I simply wasn’t able to get the most out of my body on the day. It was frustrating. My legs always felt amazing but a bad belly from 40-60 really set me back. I got that shit done though and I’m thinking about making another go in 2019. Why the hell not? That race is BEAST.

With a double-fisting Ann Trason and Chris Denucci at the finish line of the inaugural Overlook 50mi back on 9/29. Ann’s dog paced for a while, then got bored and dropped us!

In 2018, the Overlook Runs from Epic Endurance Events were only two weeks post-Run Rabbit instead of three like the previous year. And to make things even more interesting, Overlook added a 50-miler to the mix. Uh-oh… So, my thinking was, less time to recover and then run the 50mi instead of the 50k. Let’s go! With me coming off a 100-miler, just two weeks prior and Chris Denucci returning from injury, I figured we were pretty evenly matched. Chris is a buddy o’ mine and a former teammate, but I was out for blood after not being able to run to my potential in Colorado. I enjoyed running with Chris for the first 50k but then I just buried myself to the finish. That was a satisfying day of racing.

Chris encouraged me to come run Rio Del Lago 100mi with him in early Nov. After a week or so it started seeming like a better and better idea. Ha-ha. It’s a GU sponsored event so I could just run it from aid to aid and crush. With Chris and I pushing each other we could run a really fast time. I signed up.

Soon thereafter, the wave of fitness I’d been riding finally crested, and things came crashing down. I got this fairly sharp pain in my left soleus, below the calf but above the achilles. I rested a bit and, three weeks out from Rio, I tried to do a long run at Lake Sonoma. After 2mi, I had to turn around and limp/jog back to my truck. Then, to make matters worse, I got a nasty head-cold that hung around for 10 days or so. Total shit show. Looking back I’d clearly gotten a nice bump in fitness from Run Rabbit and that allowed me to run really well at Overlook 50mi two weeks later. That doesn’t mean I was 100% recovered from Run Rabbit. That big effort, two weeks post-100, put a fork in me.

Yeah so, I took myself out of Rio del Lago about as fast as I’d entered it. In training, I’ve made three-weeks-out a “training barometer” of sorts. I want something BIG in the tank at that specific point in the going. I NEVER want to half-ass a 100mi. Confidence is everything so making the decision to bow out was easy. In hindsight, the decision was clearly the right call. I was happy to see Denucci did have some competition late in the going at Rio and managed to push hard to hold on for the win. I now have $375 invested in the event, so guess what race I’m finishing up 2019 with? I prefer the mountain 100s but in 2018 I continue to find that I still absolutely LOVE to run FAST >>>

After the smoke from the Camp Fire finally dissipated and my head-cold cleared up I had just enough time to put up a 75mi week for Peacock Gap 30k, to be held in early December. Three weeks out I was sittin’ pretty. Health returned and fitness followed. Off the wet start line, no one goes with me, not even the leader of the half-marathon. It turns into a 2.5hr time-trial. It felt good to push outside my comfort zone the entire way. Running in the 7oz Hoka One One JAWS EVO I flew over the course. Since running in this shoe for all my 30k and 50k events since summer, I’d been contemplating making a change in running shoes since I’d been having some struggles with Hoka anyway. Peacock Gap was a honest effort and I pushed that sucker to the finish. It was a nice speed session for Woodside 50k two weeks later. >>>

Peacock Gap 30k with Inside Trail Racing RD, Tim Stahler.

I’ve been enjoying these “race phases” throughout the year, where I keep overall run volume low so I can regularly crush some 30k and 50k events, taking full advantage of the Bay Area trail-racing scene. At Woodside, Chris Denucci and I were again shooting the shit before the start. I told him there was at least one guy here that was gonna blow us out of the water today, since that seems to be the regular trend at these shorter, faster events. That runner manifested at Colorado’s Matt Daniels, a former sub-4min miler and all around wicked fast dude. Soon after the start, Chris asked me as we were dicing back-n-forth in the early going, “You think we’re gonna see him again?” To which I replied, “No way. That guy looked solid.” After the race, when I found out Matt would be at Bandera 100k with Chris, I laughed and joked, “You’re gonna have your hands full with that.” Chris and I finished within 4min of each other. Matt beat us by over 30min. Just incredible. Chris makes a good point though—all that speed and power doesn’t necessarily translate to the longer distances. Nonetheless, I’ll be experiencing serious FOMO on Jan 5th, when Bandera goes down.

Note: Word just went out that the Bandera course is completely changed for 2019. Sounds like they moved it an hour and half away. ??? Folks will need to flexible and just roll with the changes. As I tell my athletes going into every race, “Expect nothing and be prepared for anything.”

With Chris Denucci at Woodside Ramble on 12/15.

Dissonance. After the fires in the fall of 2017, here in Sonoma County, with half my training grounds burnt to shit, not to mention, closed, I’d bowed out of both Bandera and Black Canyon 100k’s in 2018. Since I had deferred entries to both I re-scheduled them both for 2019. Chasing Golden Tickets into Western States 100, after all, has become my national pastime. I love it. Travel’s expensive, as we know, and my fall finances have been a little tight. Hoka informed me in early Dec that I’d have no travel allotment for 2019. Fine. I just could’ve used that information about two months earlier, for planning purposes.

I needed to slow my roll into the new year, so I asked Bandera, Black Canyon, and Georgia Death Race (GDR) to take my name off their start-lists. I got myself into Sean O’Brien 100k though; travel would be more affordable, the course plays to my strengths, and the Feb time slot would be excellent. Mojo was high to run it again too; the full course this time. Then the goddamn Woolsley Fire scorched the hills above Malibu and the 100k was canceled, just like that. The tickets would roll into Canyons 100k at the end of April. I was already planning on being there for that one. But what the hell was I going to do leading up to it? I needed to work on shoring up some financial reserves so I could get myself out to Bighorn 100 in June and to some other mountain 100 in September. That was the plan.

Since I’d been running a lot, and doing well, in that minimal Hoka JAWS EVO, and I’d only be getting product from Hoka in 2019, I started thinking, what if I ran for someone else?  My time with Hoka had run its course. I came onboard in 2013 when the maximalist movement had gained some good traction in the trail-running world. Before that I was a Salomon guy; my weapon of choice was the original SPEEDCROSS. Let’s be real:  Salomon makes sexy trail-running shoes. The quality is next to none. I’ve been struggling with shoe-fit over the last three seasons too—and a M8.5 from Salomon fits my foot better than any other shoe out there. In wet conditions though, when you stop and cinch up your Salomons with that sweet lace-lock system?! Nothing feels better. Or faster.

If I’ve learned anything with Hoka, it’s to go after what you want. Nothing’s gonna happen if you don’t make it happen. You have to put yourself in the position to win. Thus, if I started up a new relationship with anyone it was going to be Salomon. I mentioned my interest to friends at Healdsburg Running Company, connections were quickly made, and just like that, I’m on Courtney’s team. The sport takes care of its own. I’ll be putting my full weight and six years’ worth of experience supporting a shoe company, behind Salomon. David Goggins’ book, Can’t Hurt Me, reminds us that new beginnings are essential to staying in the flow of life; always building new skills to meet new challenges. Literally, and figuratively, Salomon represents a damn good fit!

It’s important to acknowledge everything Hoka One One has done for me over the last six seasons. The support allowed me to spread my wings and put myself in the mix of so many of the country’s toughest, most prestigious, ultra-marathons. I met so many great people along the way, whose friendship I continue to cherish.

So, sitting here on Jan 1st, things are lookin’ good. I’m on a new team and my coaching roster’s coming together nicely. On winter break from teaching, every day’s been meeting with ultrarunners, phone calls, and setting up season plans. My teaching year’s about 185 days while the remainder of workdays on the calendar gives me plenty of time to take good care of my athletes. Armed with a growth mindset, the teaching–coaching–running lifestyle keeps me in the flow, happy, and evolving. I like that notion that all we need to be happy in life is something to be excited about. I know that’s true for me.

I might be a day late and a dollar short to run Bandera 100k but I’ve put my name back on the start-list for GDR. After all, that course has gotten into my bones having raced it the last two years. It’s where I earned my Golden Ticket into Western States in 2018. And I know I can go well under 12 hours on that gnarly course. I mean, hell, I’ll be in Salomons. That’s 30min right there! > > > 😀

I’ll be happy to race my heart out chasing Golden Tickets in Georgia and then back here at home at Canyons 100k at the end of April. If a ticket doesn’t pan out? Oh well, I’ll have had two more amazing ultra-distance race experiences. And, I’ll see you at Bighorn 100. In 2017, I had a 30min lead on the field by mile 65, before succumbing to hypothermia and dropping. I learned stuff, like a Gore-Tex rain-jacket is a nice thing to own. Fun memories but I’d like to set the record straight. So, if no Western States then it’s gonna be a summer of love—Bighorn followed by Tahoe Rim Trail 100 in mid-July (I’d like to get my 5-year belt buckle). Rocking these two hundreds will prime the body and mind for another Run Rabbit Run 100 in September. With the spectacularly updated course and the fierce competition, it’s not hard to imagine doing this one again, although I’ll have to buckle down (no pun intended) and save my pennies to make the trip possible. Then, in early November, I’ll wrap up my season with Rio Del Lago, where I’ll shoot to lower my 100mi PR and try for the overall win. I think I can sustain some good speed over the relatively fast course. Never given; always earned! Let’s party.

Parting shot: the start of the Woodside 50k. Second podium finish in December. My last race representing Hoka One One. Chris and I stand between the runners who will put up new course-records for the guys and gals. Photo Credit: Doc Tanaka

A heartfelt note of appreciation to my beautiful and highly supportive wife, Amanda.  |  Thanks to all the athletes I coach who inspire me with their passion and dedication to this crazy sport. It’s always such a treat to be out there on these race courses with you! #point_positive  |  Thanks to Hoka One One for all the support over the last six seasons!  |  Thank you to Salomon Running for bringing me onboard for 2019. #timetoplay  |  Thanks Healdsburg Running Company for helping me connect the dots with Salomon!  |  Gratitude to Casey Rolig from BUFF USA for the continued support and friendship  |  Thanks to Drymax Sports, for making the most comfortable, durable socks out there.   |   Squirrel Nut Butter Elite Team in 2019. I’m ready to slide into this!  |  GU gels and “Summit Tea” Roctane continues to fuel ALL my efforts—Faster. Than. Ever. #guforit  |  Thanks to Dave Townsend at Santa Rosa Physical Therapy for taking great care of my athletes. It’s reassuring to know I have someone I trust to go to when shit hits the fan!

2018 Georgia Death Race

2018 GDR Sfinish G-3038

Do people still write race reports? Better yet, do people still read race-reports? These days it seems I only have time to write training plans, grade math tests, walk dogs, and run. It’s been a while since I’ve even done a blog post ’cause my laptop crapped out at the end of 2017, kind of like my race season did with North Face 50mi. The fires here in NorCal had taken their toll and I’d gone through my own various stages of grief, having only been affected to the degree that the fires ravaged many of my beloved training grounds. Having not put in a solid training block for NF50, I was reminded of how much it sucks when we write checks in an ultra that our body can’t cash. Unclear when parks would reopen and riding a low in December, I bowed out of both Bandera and Black Canyon, two golden-ticket races for which I’d registered way back in mid-2017. I just needed to open up some bandwidth.

I’d put it all on Georgia Death Race (GDR) at the end of March, clearly my best shot at a golden ticket. It felt good to relax in December and have a ton of time to do things right for GDR. The focus of the training block was simple—do quality work over a long period of time. And, keep it simple stupid.

Screen Shot 2018-04-06 at 8.34.22 AM

Once mid-January hit, my weekly volume started coming back up. I hit one of the best training grooves I’ve experienced in a long time. Thursdays it was a 20mi tempo run at sub-6:30/mi pace, which seemed to supercharge my run economy, not to mention confidence. Then, 72 hours later I’d get my ass up to Lake Sonoma before sun-up and bang out progressively longer long runs on Sundays, culminating with a 50mi run, four weeks out from GDR. It was all business at Lake Sonoma for 12 straight weeks. I imagined building fitness for GDR that was “too big to fail.”

March hit and things got a little rocky. I’d picked up a chest cold, which was more of an annoying inconvenience. The first thing to go was the Thursday tempo session, in order to preserve the quality of the Sunday long run. With so much in the bank already, I didn’t worry too much about having to take more time to rest. The good thing about getting sick was it forced me to go to bed earlier. As a result I started waking up earlier. I got into this beautiful sleep cycle all the way into GDR, where I was in bed by 9pm and waking up without an alarm at 5:30am. I also started running again in the mornings, which to my surprise, felt amazing. With the three hour time change to the East Coast, I wanted to be getting up as early as possible here to encourage minimal negative effects on race-day due to the difference in time. You should pick up the book, Why We Sleep sometime. You’ll learn some shit you didn’t know and have a new appreciation for all the benefits of a full sleep cycle.

________________________________________________________

Then, just like that, it’s St. Patrick’s Day. Two weeks out from GDR. And I crack a rib…

Yeah, so I went to local regional park I’d never been to before, just to hang out with friends and participate in a fun, St. Paddy’s Day trail run. It was wet, rainy, and foggy. Since I was getting close to race day I decided against racing to the top of the mountain with the fast folks, opting to just jog the alternate, easier route to the top. Wise decision. Ego in check.

At the top, there’s about 30 of us standing around, bullshitting. There’s festive beads and Guinness Stouts floating around. The view’s non-existent today with all the fog. Before heading down, there’s a surprise announcement that the first person down will have $100 donated to the Regional Parks in their name…

Uh-oh. Pulling at my heart strings… I wouldn’t mind donating another $100 to the parks…

[enter ego stage left]

You wanna race me—downhill?!

I’ll be your huckleberry…

Starting off, no big deal, I’m [over] confident in my downhill skills. I’ve run 800 miles since Jan 1 and somehow have managed to not fall once. That, however, is about to change. Within the 1.5-ish mile descent I slip and fall three times, chasing this obstacle-course racer dude, who’s taking insane risks, at one point even trying to jump a wooden fence, but slipping and just crashing through it. I stop to see if he’s dead. He gets up and continues ripping downhill, a man possessed. This isn’t even the route I took to the top. I have no idea where I am. I try desperately to remain upright. The third time I fall, it’s on the steepest section and my legs come out from underneath me. The mountain makes contact, like a heavyweight champ delivering a forceful blow to my rib cage. OOOMph…

The situation I’ve gotten myself into is ridiculous, I agree. But, it appears insanity is contagious. I must see it through to the finish! Plus, I’m not losing to this dude. But every time I slip-n-fall, he pulls away.

F*CK!!

Where’s the goddamn finish?! I’m up and running full speed again. All out. Through the fog ahead I see the gate to the parking lot. I’m closing hard. Flying. I touch the gate first. Jesus Christ. WHAT was that all about?

I just got a glimpse of what’s been brewing under the surface these last three months. Clearly, I was ready to go into battle and take this ferocity 72 miles farther.

It goes without saying I could’ve done without this ridiculous incident. As the days passed, it was clear I had some kind of rib injury. A teacher friend recommended arnica, which seemed to help. Amanda got some roller balls with essential oils going. I lambasted myself several times a day. A lot of ibuproven got shoveled in. I watched YouTube videos on how to tape up broken ribs. It was kind of a welcome distraction before the race, ’cause this was all I was thinking about. Since I had no time left run long and assess how the rib felt after 3-4 hours, how the hell was it going to feel after 8-10 hours into GDR? “Expect nothing and be prepared for anything.”

___________________________________________________

The stars aligned this year, with my 6th graders Outdoor Education experience being the same week as GDR. On Wed, I taught my 7th grade math class 1st period, went over and hung out at camp then went home and packed for Georgia. On the other side now, I’m on spring break, so really great timing. In stark contrast, last year after the GDR, I was back in the classroom on Monday morning, without a golden ticket and being dragged into a social media shit-storm. This year, much improved experience!

At the start line, feeling relaxed and ready to rock, we’d see what the day would bring. I’d done a mountain of work for this race. Just relax and stick to “The Process.” What will be will be. Right now, it’s all in front of you. You’re gonna get the race you deserve. Just let that shit happen.

In the early going it’s rolling, just like Lake Sonoma. Up, down, up, down. Guys are already jockeying for position. At one point on a climb, I stepped off the trail and let seven or eight guys go by. By the time the sun’s up and I’m running the out-n-back off the ridgeline to Skeenah aid at mile 21, Andrew Miller’s already got a commanding lead. That’s fine. All I need is 2nd place, and there’s miles and miles left to be run. Anything can happen. Who will have legs after Jake Bull at mile 50, when the party really gets going.

_________________________________

GU Energy products have been working so well for me these days. At aid-stations, I’d dump a packet of Roctane into my bottle and fill ‘er up. I was supplementing with Campfire S’mores and Toasted Marshmallow GU along with chews the entire way. Not even soda late, which is typical for me. No nausea or vomiting since I kept calm and steady throughout. I’m much better at this whole running off feel now, being careful to not let the “water” get too “muddy,” if you’re familiar with the metaphor. Weather conditions were ideal.

I’d done most of my training in the Hoka One One Speedgoat 2 and I had a brand new pair, fresh out of the box, strapped to my feet today. Problem was I wasn’t running at Lake Sonoma and I’d forgotten how easy it is to roll ankles on this highly technical course, particularly my right one, which I’d twisted badly in training a year ago. So, here we go. I rolled it not once, but some four times in the first half, where the pain became more acute with each successive roll. It was basically a repeat of last year. I should of taped it up before the race, but since it wasn’t an issue in training it just wasn’t on the radar. I stopped and tied the right shoe tighter and that definitely felt better. Having the shoe too loose on my foot was contributing to the problem.

The good news though, with my side KT-taped up, I had no problems with the rib during the entire race. I did fall a couple times and felt it but just tried to take the impact on my left side and shield my right side. After years of BMX/freestyle as a kid and mountain-bike racing in my early 20s, I’m glad to see I’m still good at crashing, rolling out of falls relatively gracefully and quickly restoring forward momentum.

This ankle issue though? It was really cramping my downhill game. Hurting like hell on the long descent from Winding Stair on the way to Jake Bull, I wasn’t pleased to be overcompensating and blowing up my left quad in order to relieve stress on the right ankle.

As a general rule, I’ve stopped taking pain-relievers in races. I’ve just had some scary experiences I’d rather not continue repeating. But, because of the rib, I’d brought a couple ibuproven tabs with me today in the event that I was clearly in contention for a golden ticket and my rib injury was so painful that it would put the ticket in jeopardy. Serendipity. Wishing I’d done it hours earlier, I popped just one ibuproven tab (thanks, Hal Koerner’s Field Guide to Ultrarunning) and rather quickly, the pain was dramatically lessened and I found my effective downhill running much restored. How effective that one tab worked was uncanny. It is an anti-inflammatory after all, and it combated the inflammation really well.

Note: NSAIDs can really mess up your kidneys when taken in a dehydrated state. When I took this single tab I did so after hours of managing increasing pain and a significant degradation in my aggressive downhill running. It’s important to point out that the temps were mild and my hydration status was good. Just that single ibuproven tab was consumed during the race. Please be careful with your own use of NSAIDs. I try to be smart about them and remember that when it comes to such things, that “borrowing strength builds weakness.”

Jake Bull aid-station’s at mile 50 of the race. As planned, I got here in good spirits, a happy ankle, a happier rib, and apparently in 3rd place (there might have been some off-course shenanigans too, on the way over from Winding Stair, when I was crying about my ankle and not focused on the trail and course-ribbon. I’d lost about 10min, and Caleb Denton, a friend and GDR veteran, had cruised into 2nd place while I must’ve been popping ibuproven tabs, listening to a banjo in the Georgia back country.

When I left Jake Bull, they told me the next runner was only 5min up. I settled in. This is typically my favorite part of the race: the final 25%. It’s 11 miles from Jake Bull to the final aid-station at Nimblewill, with a gnarly 4mi mile climb on switch-backing fire-roads for good measure. Last year, it was warmer, I ran outta water, and was vomiting on the side of the road, thinking I might actually die in the Georgia Death Race.

Because of the time change, I started this race at 2am PDT. Thus, I wasn’t ready to poop before the race. I purposely ate less food the night before and, late in the race, it looked like I might make it through the the entire race without having to go.

Wrong.

Starting up the long climb up to Nimblewill, nature called. I hopped in the bushes and when I hopped out of the bushes feeling like a new man with a new lease on life, ready to tackle the world, I spied Matt Thompson climbing toward me. Like a switch, it was back to race-mode and climbing at a strong, sustainable pace. Settle into this climb and hope to put some distance between myself and Matt. And while I’m at it, Caleb better come back to me…

When I pulled up even with Caleb, he noted, “I thought you were in front of me?” I informed him I’d been off course for a few minutes. He replied, “Didn’t that happen last year too.” I’m like, “Yeah,” shamefully pulling ahead and only looking back when the mountain switchbacks offer a clear glimpse of the fire-road way off to my right-hand side. “Too big to fail,” I reminded myself of all the work that went into this one day. “Even I can’t f*ck up this day.” Clear the mind and get back to task at hand.

I desperately wanted to reach Amicalola State Park, with a good [enough] gap on 3rd place; whether that was on Caleb, Matt, both, or a band of wolves, barrelling down on their prey, just minutes ahead. My living nightmare would be to get passed on the damn stairs going up the falls with a mile-n-change to run to the finish. The RD, Sean “Run Bum” Blanton captured my reality after 12 hours of racing:

 

Unless you were Andrew Miller, the golden ticket was never “in the bag” here at GDR. Even on the final, nasty descent to the finish line, I was looking back up, ready to blast off, like a wily and reckless obstacle course racer. Heading in to this race, as always seems to be the case, I imagined it coming down to who wanted it more. In the weeks leading into GDR, I questioned myself, “So, how bad do you want it? Why do you want it? How deep are you willing to dig to get it?

Like the Boston Marathons and Hawaiian Ironmans I’ve raced my way into in years gone by, it was clear in my 20th year of competitive running, that I may actually fall short of my goal of racing my way into Western States. I think the trick was becoming okay with the possibility of failing. It would be okay. I’d failed before. I’d fail again. But, I wasn’t going to fail again without upping the ante in terms of my preparation. I made GDR a priority this spring. I didn’t race anything else. I trained smart, checked my ego, and listened to my body, not getting too worked up that I never hit weekly mileage numbers in the 90s or higher. It made a big difference here. I had good power all day. My mind was engaged and I was in my element, having fun doing what I love—mixing it up with great competitors in an event that plays to my strengths.

“While everyone else is crying doom, the athletes are caught up in Teilhard’s continually accelerating vortex of self actualization.”  -Dr. George Sheehan

In 2018, I’ve been at this competitive running game for 20 years now. A lot of the guys I look up to now are younger than I am, by a lot. Andrew Miller’s 21! A lot of the runners I draw inspiration from aren’t guys. How cool is it that competitors from such different walks of life can converge at an event, and elevate one another to higher levels of athletic achievement? We’re among the lucky ones; to experience these great and grand enthusiasms; the intensity of the moment; hurling ourselves down the trail; rapt.

March went out like a lion, to be certain. But now it’s April and the party’s over. The ankle’s on the mend. The rib’s angrier after GDR than it was before. It’s twelve weeks to States. I’ll start off by giving the body two week’s rest before resuming structured run training. If I need it, I’ll have to take all of April. Rib’s are a pain in the ass to heal. To run how I want to at the end of June, I definitely want to be firing on all four cylinders once May arrives. I have a ton of work in the bank. GDR is exactly the experience I wanted to have in my legs and mind moving forward. I’m looking to shave a couple hours off my time at States. I believe it’s in the cards this year. Believe. Believe. Believe.

Screen Shot 2018-04-05 at 2.58.21 PM

East Coast Trail & Ultra Podcast – Georgia Death Race 2018

__________________________________________________________

 

A heartfelt note of appreciation to my beautiful and highly supportive wife/agent Amanda. I love you! FYI: Here’s Amanda’s Essential Oils Facebook page |  Thanks to all the athletes I coach who inspire me with their passion and dedication to this crazy sport.  |  Thank you to Hoka One One for producing the best trail shoes out there—#speedgoat2 #timetofly   |  Thanks Healdsburg Running Company for the cheers from afar and always sending out the kick-ass vibes! | Thanks Inside Trail Racing for hosting so many great events in the Bay Area and beyond.  |  Cheers of gratitude to sponsors BUFF USA, Drymax Sports, and Squirrel Nut Butter.  |  GU… You’re killing it! My nutrition’s never been more effective (or tasty!) #summit_tea #toasted_marshmallow #stroopwaffle |  Thanks to Dave Townsend at Santa Rosa Physical Therapy for helping me manage all of my “old man issues” and keeping me moving down the trail! >>> 🙂