The trail was spectacular – pine forests and swamps with Spanish moss-covered cypress trees – this was classic Louisiana. Only thing missing was alligator sightings – not that I didn’t look for them. I did, however, see about a dozen armadilloes.

Technically speaking, I felt it was a challenging course. With the tons of fallen leaves, it was sometimes tricky to follow the trail. Thank goodness the trees had orange blazes to mark the trail. Without the markings on the trees, it would have felt MORE like I was in the middle of nowhere. There were also flags marking confusing intersections or turns. The course was well-marked for sure.

At night, following the trail was a little more tricky. I had to use a headlamp to watch for the blazes on the trees and a handheld light to watch for roots. Watching for roots was not easy in the day with all the leaves, but it was even harder as it got dark. However, by slowing my pace, I had only one fall in the dark – compared to three falls during the daylight hours.

Speaking of falling down, I managed to make it through the whole first loop without falling – my first spill came around mile 21 or 22 shortly after I had left the aid station. A root was the culprit – I went flying and the side of my hand landed hard on another root. Falling always gets the adrenaline pumping, but this fall also got the swelling going. My hand immediately started to swell, and in the next few miles, it was swollen almost double. I thought I might have broken it, but there wasn’t much I could do about it at that point. I didn’t help it by falling on the same hand two more times in that loop!

So, I decided that I would look at the bright side: 1 – it wasn’t my foot, and 2 – the pain in my hand took my focus off the pain in my legs. Plus, I had something to think about for the next 41 miles besides other common ultra-associated aches and pains.

This little hand episode also gave me a chance to practice 2 of my favorite mantras:

• What is the opportunity in this?
• Remember: It doesn’t have to be FUN to be fun!

The night was beautiful in its own way. I love running in the dark, and this was no exception. I use the word “running” loosely – it was more of a shuffle on my last loop. My goal going into this race was to use it as a long training run for the Rouge-Orleans in February, so I hoped to finish between 14-16 hours. I knew I could take it really slow in the last loop and still finish under 16 hours, so I took my time and enjoyed the night. I do have to admit, however, that I was very happy to be finished, and the thought of going out for another loop in the dark on those roots was not that appealing to me.

Race Director Chris Scott, aka the Cajun Dip, and all his helpers put on a terrific event. The aid station volunteers were super. Oh, and the pre-race dinner was the best!

About a week after I got back home, the swelling and bruising on my hand was nearly gone, but it was still bothering me. As it turns out, I did break the 5th metacarpal – that’s the bone on the side of my hand just under the knuckle below my little finger. My hand doc said it was a nice, clean break so no intervention was necessary. His advice to me: “Stay on your feet and off the ground.” Always good advice.

They are all tremendous accomplishments by some amazing trail runners.

Last weekend, a gang of Boise area trail runners (from Nampa, Meridian, Middleton, Boise – even Missoula, MT) took a road trip to Orcas Island, Washington, to run a trail 50K. About 1/2 of the folks in our group had never run a 50K before. Some ran the entire distance; some did not. But each of us ran what we were supposed to run for that particular day.

The course was hard as you can see from the elevation map.

But the difficulty of the course did not deter us. It did, however, slow us down a tad – so much that a few did not make the cutoff. Check out that climb from miles 13-15! But we were out there to have fun, and I can’t think of anyone in our gang who didn’t have some fun.

How was it that we all ran what we were supposed to run if the race measured 32.76 (on my gps, that is)?

Let me give you an example. Take the list of numbers: 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11. What is missing? A normal response would be 2, 4, 6, 8, 10. But I say…nothing is missing. What is there, is there.

So, whether it was 10.7 or 20 or 23 or 32.76 miles, what was run, was run. Nothing was missing.

For those who didn’t go the full distance, I know it is a bit of a disappointment…at first. No one wants a DNF. But rather than “Did Not Finish,” I prefer to go with “Did Nothing Fatal” instead. Every race and training run are opportunities for us to learn, to gain experience, and to use that knowledge to make adjustments.

I “DNFed” in my first 100-mile attempt. Was I disappointed? Yes – for about 30 minutes. Then, after an appropriate, but short, personal pity party (b/c I felt embarrassed and that I let other people down – both which are irrational AND crazy), I was amazed and happy that I had just run 88 miles! Ok, so it wasn’t the full 100, but dang, that’s a long way.

The same holds true for any distance – 10.7 miles out of 32.76 on hilly, rocky, muddy terrain is no small feat, and it should be viewed as a huge achievement.

I believe that when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

Some may say that if you don’t run the whole distance, then you’re a failure. I say, if you run 20 miles of 32.76 that you didn’t FAIL to run 32.76 miles – you SUCCEEDED in running 20 miles.

So, congratulations to all the Boise Ridge Runners (and one stray) for whatever miles you ran on Orcas Island. Now it’s onward to the next adventure!

One of the first things that comes to me – as a way to describe the experience – is that at camp, we “live deliberately.” I know that quoting Thoreau is cliché, but maybe there’s something about staying in a cabin by a lake that initially makes me think of Walden (even though Thoreau’s “cabin” was about a mile from where he grew up).

And, living deliberately is what we do at camp.

Because we are in such a remote place, we have spotty cell phone coverage, limited wi-fi, and no cable tv in our cabins. We are not totally cut off from the outside world, but for 6 days, we are pretty much unconcerned with what’s going on outside Rainbow Resort.

We immerse ourselves in the actual experiences.

Our first run of the week was an easy 4-mile jaunt through the woods on a grassy trail. It had rained the night before, and there were still a few puddles in some low spots. Our first inclination when we encounter a mud puddle is to try to avoid it. I remember thinking as I plowed through the mud puddles – you don’t really experience the puddle unless your feet get a little wet. And, as I felt the water seep through the toe of my shoe, I actually felt a little more energized.

Later, that night, we were treated to “Dick Beardsley In Concert.” Although Dick probably won’t be taking his concert “on the road,” he writes and sings songs from his heart; and courageously, he shared some deeply personal experiences with us as we sat and listened … totally immersed in his music.

Our second run was a “quality workout” with Coach Bill. Although not an “active” Marine, Bill will tell you that there’s no such thing as an ex-Marine. And, his workouts remind us of his point. Warming up with lunges, squats, pushups, and hovers (to name a few things), we then head out to a flat stretch of road where we warm up again with stride outs before running a timed mile. But that’s not all. After the timed mile, we jog down the road about a mile and a half to “learn how” to and practice hill repeats. Talk about “sucking marrow from the bone” – Thoreau would definitely approve of Coach Bill’s workouts.

Thank goodness for the principle of hard-easy workouts. Our next run was a recovery run – it was back on the serene trails for an easy fun run. You might think that with a group of runners – who “paid” to come to a running camp – that it would be a little difficult to run easy and take walk breaks and chat with their new running partners. But there’s something about being surrounded by people who, like ourselves, not only love to talk about running but also love to experience it. And, I think that even some of the hardcore runners were able to “experience” their runs more deeply in our easy group trail runs than they had before they came to camp.

Since we had a half marathon coming up on Saturday, we didn’t schedule a Friday run. However, in a rare historic event, Joe Henderson led a group of campers on a truly special early morning run.

Friday was especially fun as we had Kathrine Switzer, pioneer and champion of women’s running, spending the day with us. Kathrine was the “legend” this year at the “Running with the Legends” Dick Beardsley Half Marathon.

Race day dawned, and the constant rain from the day before gave way to blue skies and cool temperatures. Campers and coaches all piled into cars and drove 45 minutes to Detroit Lakes for the Dick Beardsley Half Marathon and 5K. We had runners in both events – with one camper running his first half marathon and one running his first race ever! Uplifted by a week of positive energy, camaraderie, and good health, we all “experienced” a gorgeous run around the lake. As each runner finished, we gathered at the sideline to cheer on every single runner who crossed the finish line.

As it came time for camp to end, we started feeling the pull of reality. Six days in the Minnesota woods is a perfect amount of time to spend at a running camp, but it was time now to go home to jobs, families, friends, and running in our own town. Amid hugs and farewells, we know we’ll see each other again this time next year.

One of our former campers aptly said of Dick’s camp…”We came to camp to become better runners; we left camp better people.”

That would be the Wild Idaho 50K and 50-Mile Endurance Runs. Nothing wimpy about these races! WIFKER/WIFMER was the brain child of wild man Trail Thrasher Ben Blessing. And Ben was counting his “blessings” as race day weather turned out perfect. You can check out the official results along with photos of the runners at http://runwildidaho.com.

I didn’t run it this year, but I arrived on the scene around 3 pm to start my shift at the Skunk Creek Road Aid Station. This was the turnaround for the 50K runners before they headed back DOWN the mountain to the finish line (7.5 miles away). The 50-milers got to come to our station twice, once around mile 33.5 and again around mile 43. Although they looked great the first time we saw them, they were even happier the 2nd time because they only had 7.5 miles more to go.

The climbs can only be described as “heinous,” but the scenery made it worth the climbs. (I can say this because I’ve run the 2nd half of the course – I’m sure the first half was quite beautiful also.) The scenery may not have been much consolation as the runners were dog tired on the climbs, but they all agreed at the finish line that it was indeed a spectacular course, in every sense of the word.

Next to actually running the race, I love working an aid station. I have done enough trail ultras to know how the runners feel, and sometimes, they just need someone who understands.

Ben did a super job as race director. An ultrarunner himself, he created the event from an ultrarunner’s viewpoint – ok, a crazy ultrarunner, but an ultrarunner nonetheless. He recruited family and friends to help support the runners…and by the time the race was over, everyone – runners, their families, and the volunteers – was part of the “family.”

With 30 runners, you know there were many stories. I didn’t get to see all the runners pass through our aid station, but I saw a lot. My friends Donna (with pacer Sparkle) and Heather finished their first 50Ks, and my friend Sam finished his first official 50-miler. Veteran ultrarunner Lynette used WIFMER as a training run in preparation for her 2nd 100-miler, the Bear (rated by Marathon & Beyond as the 5th hardest 100 in the US). Another crazy man, Dennis, rode his bike 90 miles to the race, was the Sweeper for the 50-miler, then rode his bike back home the next morning. Paul and Emily were additional support sweepers helping other runners – both also ran the whole course.

Although I didn’t know all the runners personally, I “know” who they are. They are the folks who keep going when they would really like to stop. They are the folks who believe that pain is inevitable but suffering is optional. They are the folks who stop to help a fellow runner who is struggling. They are the folks who fall down 7 times and get up 8. They are the folks who “dial in” a distance and have the perseverance and heart to reach their goal. They are ultrarunners.

Congratulations to ALL the runners in the WIFKER & WIFMER.

Elinor Fish, editor of Trail Runner magazine, was the camp director, as well as an accomplished trail runner herself. In fact, she is running her first 100-miler in a few weeks at Leadville! Nothing like starting with one of the hardest 100s around (I would know a little about that). She had two additional people on staff: Tam, a personal trainer and Xterra champion; and Wendy, a yoga instructor and trail runner. Elinor and her “team” did a spectacular job of planning and executing the camp.

The women at the camp represented 7 states – Idaho, Colorado, California, Washington, Kansas, Nevada, Indiana – and all came with different backgrounds, experiences, and inspiring stories. Many of the women had never run at altitude like we encountered in the Rockies. Our first run was a little challenging, but by day 2, we had somewhat acclimated, and our run was much more comfortable (or at least manageable).

The scenery was breathtaking (and not just because of the altitude), and the comraderie was uplifting. We had healthy meals, yoga sessions, massages, and amazing trail runs – indeed, a magical weekend retreat.

As we all became friends, we already have plans to meet up at trail runs across the country and open invitations for places to stay as we travel to run.

Thanks to Elinor, her team, and to all the other campers for a great mountain trail experience.

I wish that there were a way to capture the scent of the sage and other flowers that carpeted the mountain side. As we ran through waist-high vegetation getting wet from the dew still on the leaves, we inhaled the freshness of the plants. You can capture the scenery in photos, but the smell is something you obviously have to experience.

Originally, we had planned to just run the 9-mile loop, but we took a little detour and added a few miles in the middle to the top of Shafer Butte to take in the even more spectacular views.

I’ve run on the trails at Bogus Basin a number of times, but this was my first trek around the back side of Mores Mountain. I know I sound like a broken record, but we are so fortunate  to have trails like this practically out our back door. It just doesn’t get much better than this.

It started out a little over a week ago when my friend Christie proposed that we go for a long trail run to support Randy who is running his first 50-miler in July. She posted it on Facebook, and about 8 of us got together for a run in the nearby Boise foothills. Our only “live” meeting for some of us was a couple of months ago when we all ran the Weiser 50K. Prior to that, most of us didn’t even know each other. This was the first time this particular group had ever run together…and what a great run it was. The speedier ones ran ahead and waited at various spots while the rest of us caught up to them. This was not a race – it was a group trail run – so no one was truly concerned about time.

Later that week, my friend Donna who is training for the WIFKER (Wild Idaho Fifty Kilometer Endurance Run) asked me if I wanted to drive up past Crouch, Idaho, and run part of the WIFKER trail. Sure, I said, so we recruited Sparkle, and the 3 of us headed out about 430 pm and drove 2 hours to do a 9.5 mile run. We were lucky enough to see a rubber boa on the trail within the first 5 minutes and got its picture. We later learned that this a seldom seen snake – and the sighting was something very cool.

My next run for the week took a hardy group of 6 of us up to the Boise National Forest NE of Idaho City…about a hour an a half from Boise. What a spectacular run it was. We climbed 2 summits up to the Fire Tower lookouts – for a total of 4000+ feet of climbing in about 18 miles. The views were unbelievable (as you can see from the photos).

And, finally, as is tradition of the 4th of July, the Boise Y Striders get together for a trail run up to Stack Rock above Bogus Basin. About 20 of us hit the trails above Boise and trekked 8 miles to see Stack Rock.

So what’s the big deal, you wonder. They’re just trail runs. Yes, the scenery was some of the best Idaho has to offer close to Boise. But it was the people who made the runs special. It wasn’t about who was the fastest, or who can run a 3-hour marathon or a 6-hour marathon. We are all just folks who love running on trails, and in every instance that is what brought us together.

Sure we had some fast runners, but no one cared who ran or walked, and people who might not ordinarily run together were running on the trails side by side…stopping to take pictures and marveling at the sights.

Although I love solitary running, last week was one of the best weeks of running I’ve ever had in a long time.

To all my trail running friends – Thanks.

When I’m out on the trails in the foothills alone, I rarely run across other runners – I usually see more mountain bikers than runners. But when I do, I always say hey or some other greeting, and rarely do I greet someone without some response.

So, yesterday morning, since I hadn’t run the greenbelt in awhile, I decided I’d say “Good Morning” to every single person I saw – kids, bikers, runners, walkers. And, I saw a bunch of folks.

I’m happy to report that the response was good – even better when I threw in “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” I would estimate that about 90% of the people I spoke to responded. There were a few with headphones on who might not have heard me – although I know they saw me because we made eye contact, and I waved. And, there were a few kids on bikes who flew by me and didn’t respond.

There was one group of high school kids (probably a cross-country team) running in small groups (some with headphones), but every one of them said “Good Morning.” Even a couple of guys who appeared to be homeless (they looked kind of like they were drunk, too) said hey when I passed them.

I have to believe that the people who didn’t respond probably didn’t hear me or were in a “zone.” Otherwise, my greetings were hard to ignore, and in my fantasy world of making people’s day a little brighter with just a “Good Morning,” maybe they passed along the good cheer to someone else.

Before RAAM, we read books, we watched videos, we read blogs of other RAAM riders.
Before RAAM, we studied elevation maps, we studied the terrain, we studied reports on hydration, nutrition, muscle fatigue, and sleep deprivation.
We thought we knew what RAAM was.
We thought we knew how hard RAAM was.
We thought we knew what we were getting into.
We knew nothing.

There is a reason this is considered “the toughest bike race in the world.” I have seen some really tough folks, but Mike is by far the toughest person I’ve ever known. Mike gave this ride everything he had and then some.

You’ve heard people say, “You just had to be there.” I gotta tell you – This is one of those times – You just had to be there. Even the elevation maps that look impossible don’t tell the whole story.

A fellow RAAM rider commented on one of Mike’s blog posts that the way you train for RAAM is by trying it. Another said that his trek of 743 miles was his RAAM training ride. Will Mike attempt RAAM again? Maybe. We are all more enlightened…we all know a little more. Every day, every night, every minute at RAAM is an education for the rider and the crew.

Mike didn’t finish RAAM, and in the official stats he is listed as a DNF (did not finish). In my book, that stands for “Did Nothing Fatal.”

Some people might say Mike “failed” to finish RAAM. Technically, that is true. But he finished his own first RAAM…all 743 miles of it…and that was just part of his successful RAAM ride.

- Mike was a success when he raised $30,000 for the Sanford Cardiovascular Research Center and the Dick Beardsley Foundation.
- Mike was a success when 13 people who believed in him and his cause were honored to join his crew.
- Mike was a success when he was waiting on that podium in Oceanside at the start – before he pedaled his first stroke.
- Mike was a success when he rode 743 miles.

How you do anything is how you do everything. Mike rode RAAM like he lives his life.

Jack London wrote, “I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”

Mike gave 100% on every inch of those 743 miles.

It was an honor to serve Mike on this piece of his journey. Should he decide someday to go back to RAAM for another attempt, I will be the first one to sign on as his crew.

Thanks, Mike – we are all better people for having been on this leg of your journey with you.

Last weekend,  my daughter Kelly came in town (to Boise) from Los Angeles. Her running usually consists of street running around her neighborhood. I understand that – until I came to Boise, that’s what I did. So, when I told her that we were going to drive 45 minutes to get to a trail I’ve never run before, she wasn’t overly enthusiastic. She wondered why we couldn’t just drive 5 minutes and run on the trails around my house. My answer was that I’d never run these trails, and I wanted her to experience something really special.

And, we were not disappointed.

We went with Michelle, my other daughter who is a Boise trail runner, and my friend Ben, who is a hardcore ultrarunner. (He has been tapering this week for a 50-miler so he figured he could run easy with us on a short run on the trails.)

As you can see from the photos, the trail was spectacular. A few miles into the run, we descended into a canyon where we ran along a rushing creek and also ran into some rain. I added some time on to our run by stopping to take pictures. (These days I don’t leave home without my camera.) When we climbed out of the canyon, the rain stopped, and we were greeting with blue skies.

We trudged through a couple of miles of deep sand (which wasn’t my favorite part of the run), and finished on a gradual downhill back to the car. Michelle, Kelly, and Ben climbed one more mega hill when we finished as I took video of their trek to the top and back.

I suppose I take the pictures for myself because pictures can never truly capture the trail experience. We all loved our run in Wilson Creek, but I think Kelly especially loved it. Maybe she’ll seek more trails around L.A. now…even if she has to drive to get there.