The Lydiard Approach to Training and What it Has Done for Me

Jon L

For the past few years, I have experienced some solid improvements in my running fitness.  After my last 5K, our illustrious Flyers president Alan G jokingly demanded (I hope) that I report to the Flyers' medical staff for drug testing.  

Despite his reckless character assassination (my lawyers will be in touch Alan), my later-in-life running renaissance is solely due to finding a better approach to training.   For the past few years, I have been using a training approach that is based on the methods of legendary coach Arthur Lydiard (1917-2004) and I would like to share what I have learned.

Lydiard Basics

The principles of sound training that Lydiard developed in 1960s––based on experimenting on himself and a small group of local New Zealand runners––have stood the test of time as the scientific studies have caught up to validate his approach.  Many of the principles that are part of the Lydiard system are found in coaching and training systems in use today, and nearly every successful athletics coach or athlete consciously or unconsciously emulates Lydiard's training system by laying an endurance base and making use of periodization for peak performance.  

Initially, this culminated in sending Murray Halberg, Peter Snell and Barry Magee to the medalist’s podium at the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome.  Subsequently, too many runners to mention have used Arthur Lydiard’s approach to achieve an impressive array of Olympic medals and race wins throughout the world.

Lydiard based training is based on five critical principles:

1. Aerobic Conditioning – At the start of any Lydiard training cycle, there is a long phase of aerobic running to build endurance and lay the base for a strong performance on race day.
2. Response Regulated Adaptation – Trying to run at training paces that are not aligned to your current fitness level is not a recipe for success.  Lydiard plans adjust your effort levels based on how you are responding to training stimulus to optimize your fitness improvement.
3. Feeling Based Training – Learning to accurately interpret the language of your physiology allows the runner to stretch the training envelope while avoiding the perils of overtraining.
4. Sequential Development – Unlike many running plans that seek to develop multiple facets of running fitness at the same time, Lydiard training is based on a philosophy of developing the building blocks needed for a good race day performance individually over a longer training cycle to allow optimal fitness development.
5. Peaking – The later phases of Lydiard training are designed to guide and sharpen the runner to a point where they are in peak condition on race day in an excellent position to run the best race possible.

The Lydiard Training Pyramid

A typical Lydiard plan includes five distinct training phases over 22-24 weeks:

Aerobic conditioning – a period of aerobic runs (run by overall time, not mileage) at a variety of paces to develop stamina and a base of conditioning.

Hills – Develops the leg power and flexibility that will be needed to support faster running while continuing to develop the aerobic base.

Anaerobic – Adds faster running (tempos and intervals) to prepare the runner to be able to handle race pace.

Coordination – Race distance specific tuning and sharpening including shorter distance time trials.

Taper - Final preparation for race day.

While it is a longer training cycle than what you may be used to, the length of the cycle allows the safe development of running fitness as each phase builds on the previous one.  The individual runs are not significantly different from what you might find in another training approach; it is the overall structure and flow of the plan that sets Lydiard apart. 

My Experience Using Lydiard

After wrecking my right knee playing contact sports in high school, I was told by my doctor to never run again.  A couple of decades later, I decided to give it another try and have been running steadily since early 2009.   In my much younger years, I was a middle of the pack guy (4:42 mile, 18:22 XC 5k) and never really knew how to train properly.  

Upon my return to running, I decided to focus on longer distances and made a study of a number of different training methods. While I did achieve some success based on the fact that ANY running is helpful for a novice, I quickly hit a plateau where my fitness stopped improving as quickly, and I began to struggle.   

After I made a mess of a marathon and ended up in the medical tent after the finish line, I was fortunate to make the acquaintance of one of the founders of the Lydiard Foundation (Coach Nobby Hashizume).  He reviewed my training logs and helped me to understand that simply running a bunch of miles in an unstructured way was not the path to success.  With his encouragement, I embarked on a training plan for a half marathon using a 22 week Lydiard based plan.  The result:  I took my half PR from 1:47 to 1:37 and ran a very strong negative split race. 

I followed up my HM phase with a training effort focused on bettering my 5K time.  In December 2012, I ran a 21:23 to set my baseline for training.  In May 2013 after a 22 week training program, I ran a negative split 19:49 that was a strong effort to the finish.  

In both the HM and 5K training phases, I have seen strong benefits from following the Lydiard method:

• Aerobic Base – In both races, I had the capacity to push the pace in the later part of the race.  This contrasts sharply with my non-Lydiard races where I was typically trying to hold on to the pace at the end and "survive" to the finish.  This capacity was developed in the first phase of the plan through a healthy dose of comfortably paced miles.  Some running friends were a little incredulous at a 16 mile long run when training for a 5K but I have come to understand that you really cannot run a fast race without a solid foundation of easy aerobic running.
• Peaking – In the lead up to both races, I felt a strong surge of fitness in the later phases of training.  There was a tangible shift from focusing on trying to maintain the pace on training runs, to a mode where I had to consciously hold back to avoid peaking too soon.  Lorraine Moller of the Lydiard Foundation refers to it as ‘having wings on your feet’ which I think is a very apt description.  I have never felt this peaking effect with any other training method, and arrived at the starting line for both races in excellent condition with legs that were itching to run hard.
• Pace awareness – The ability to understand the signals from my body has enabled me to race more effectively.  For my recent 5K, my plan of monitoring my Garmin to stay on goal pace was ruined by the loss of satellite signal just as the race started.  Faced with no other option, I made the snap decisions to run by feel and focused on running at a hard but sustainable pace.  I will not soon forget the feeling of seeing “19:xx” on the clock when I was simply hoping to see “20:xx.”  Taking 94 seconds off my master’s PR is not something I expected to do and I credit the awareness of effort level that I learned using the Lydiard approach.
• Injury avoidance – When I started using the Lydiard method, I was nursing a couple of injuries including a nagging case of Plantar Fasciitis.  As I trained through two Lydiard cycles, I have noticed that my injuries have gone dormant even though I am now running more mileage than I was before.    I attribute this to the overall structure of the Lydiard approach that builds intensity gradually, and carefully prepares the runner for each successive phase.

As I have learned more about this method, I have also become involved in a community of runners that use the Lydiard method.  This group is littered with examples of the success that is achievable with this training method.  A recent example would be the 48 year old runner who just bettered his 1994 lifetime marathon PR by running a 3:09:40.  I have also been certified in this training method to further my understanding of this method to help others and to allow me to train as effectively as possible.

Lydiard Certification with the Principles of the Lydiard Foundation

Coach Nobby Hashizume, Lorraine Moller 
(4 time Olympian including Bronze in the Marathon in Barcelona), and Jon L

More information

Are you interested in learning more about this training approach?  The Lydiard Foundation has setup a website (click HERE) to maintain the legacy of Arthur Lydiard and his training methods.  They have also set up a plan generator (click HERE) that will create a training program for you based on the Lydiard method.  If you would like more information or have questions about this approach, I would be happy to go for a run with you and discuss it further.  

-Jon L.

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Hot Times in the City

Dave K
Keeping Cool
With Our Cool Cats

I used to not mind running when it's HOT. Until a few summers ago when I had a scary heat-running incident (and this was before enduring the high heat of the 2012 Boston Marathon).

I ran a summer race in 2009, and then stopped to drink before continuing on for more miles to make it my long-run. I ran with a fluid belt and wore the right clothing, and unlike at Boston in the spring I was acclimated to summer running. So, I thought I'd taken sufficient precautions in the heat.

But I didn't head home right away, and soon after I got home I became extremely dizzy. And nauseous. And disoriented (i.e., more than usual). I lied down with the air conditioner blasting. I took a cold shower. I put ice packs on my head and neck. And I didn't feel any better.

No one else was home, and I started to feel a little bit scared. I called a friend whose sister is a doctor. I wondered if I was suffering heat stroke. It turned out that it was not heat stroke, but the less severe heat exhaustion. It took several days until I felt back to normal.

So, although I may still say that I don't mind the heat (much), and while I still want to preserve my tough-guy macho image (no laughing, please), I now take more precautions. So here's some advice that I'll pass along so that others may not pass out.  Actually, it's all pretty obvious stuff, below, and my real point is to just suggest to please be careful out there, heed your body's warning signals, and don't try to be such a tough guy or gal that you end up in the hospital.

• Not Too Proud for the Med Tent.  After the 2011 Queens Half Marathon -- a very hot and humid day -- I felt nauseous and woozy.  Fearing heat exhaustion, I went straight to the medical tent.  There, I quickly was put in front of a fan, given COLD Gatorade, and had bags of ice put on my head, neck and under my arms.  NYRR CEO Mary Wittenberg even checked in on me and the other runners who were doing likewise.  20 minutes later I left the tent feeling fine.
• Salt, Salt and More Salt.  I sweat beyond belief.  And on hot and humid days I'd been prone to muscle cramps after races.  Until Flyer Janis E turned me on to salt.  Now I take as much as one fast-food salt packet every six miles during a long-run or long race.  I find that it actually gives me an energy boost, real or imagined, and has helped with the cramping.  Sometimes I'll take Endurolytes instead, which also helps replace what I sweat away.
• Chill Out Before and After. Elite runners and others have been known to wear ice vests that they take off right before they race in the heat.  I don't have a heat vest, but I do stay in air-conditioning for as long as I can before heading out, and have even brought a large 7-Eleven Slurpee to the starting line (yum!).  After a race or long-run in the heat, I'll try to get inside to air conditioning ASAP and it's a great time for an ice bath both to knock down muscle swelling and to cool off.
• Lather up. Although my family has a history of skin cancer, I used to think I wouldn't get sunburned in Central Park with all the tree cover, but learned from experience that this is not true.  Now I'm better at coating myself -- Flyer Janine S still makes fun of me for my milky-white coating before a recent race -- and may stick a napkin or something in my pocket for when it mixes with sweat and irritates my eyes.
• Read this.  I learned how to get heat exhaustion, but I'm no expert on how to prevent it. So if you're still reading, I suggest that you read elsewhere about hot-weather running.  Runner's World has a whole bunch of articles posted on their website on Running in the Heat that are excellent resources.  Click here to read Runner's World's heat survival guide. 

And, from Coach Brian D. and the RUN S.M.A.R.T. staff, leaders of the Flyers Fall 2013 Marathon Training Program, here's some additional advice:

• When/where to run.  Running very early is your best option in this weather, unless you can get on a treadmill during the day or evening. If you can get on a treadmill and avoid having to sacrifice sleep from getting up super early to beat the heat - even better! No one sleeps enough so we're big on getting sleep first, if possible. You can have the greatest coach and training plan in the world (us!) but it won't matter if you're not getting proper rest and sleep. 
• Go by effort.  Be honest in this heat - go by effort, not pace! Your pace per mile in 90 degree heat could be at least 20 seconds per mile slower than usual but still be about the same effort. 
• Hydration. Hydrate a little more throughout the day than normal. And don't start the day in debt...everyone is very dehydrated when they wake up. Always drink two big glasses of water the first thing you do when you wake up. This will also help with digestion. 

For more from Coach Brian and Run S.M.A.R.T., click HERE for a link to their post on the Saucony Blog on beating the heat.

Keep cool,

Dave K

NY Flyers Blogmaster

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New Flyer Profile: Shark Runner Karin

Karin A

I’m a recent transplant from California. I ran with the Pasadena Pacers in L.A. until I moved to NYC in spring 2012. When I moved here, I had my sights set on finding a running group that would offer the same level of warmth, community, and camaraderie. After a few Google searches, behold the New York Flyers.  

I took up running in the fall of 2008, and I quickly realized that to stay motivated and to continue developing my running skills, I would need to race. My first organized race was the Pasadena Half Marathon in February 2009. After that I was hooked. I soon signed up for full marathons in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and eventually out-of-state in Sedona, Arizona. 

Having tackled the marathon, I became thirsty for even longer races and ran my first ultra in December 2010. I ran 50km races in the deserts and forests of Southern California at the OTHTC High Desert 50K and the Leona Divide 50/50 Trail Race Alas, 50km was not quite enough to satisfy my appetite for mileage, so I signed up for a 50-miler on Catalina Island called the Avalon Benefit 50 Mile Run and successfully completed the race in January 2013. 

My next adventure? A 55km race in Iceland -- the Laugavegur Ultra -- in July 2013.

My second love is scuba diving, and I have a particular affinity for sharks. I’ve been diving with Great Whites (from the safety of a cage) off the coast of Guadalupe, Mexico. Recently I swam with Oceanic White Tips. No cage. It was one of the most memorable experiences I’ve had. I’d like to share a few excerpts from a blog I wrote about the encounters:

The seas were rough, the swells were swollen, and there was not a shark in sight. We were on the boat for a good long while waiting to spot an Oceanic White Tip. Finally, after waiting and baiting for nearly two hours, a 5-foot Silky shark appeared out of nowhere. She was fast and sleek with a golden sheen, and she darted around playfully in the water picking up scraps of bait. Soon, she was joined by another silky. They were very curious to say the least. They would come within inches of my face and body for a closer look at this foreign "thing." I turned around at one point to see THREE silkies approaching me gangsta style, with an underwater swagger like they meant business. They soon joined the others until we had a big mix of sharks, snorkelers, and waves all conjoined in an undulating underwater dance.

The group I joined for the shark dives is called Epic Diving. They host tours once a year during peak season, which usually runs from the end of April until mid-June. They bring shark enthusiasts such as myself, but they also attract professional journalists from Discovery Channel and National Geographic.

The next day, the sea was still rough, but navigable. Only two hours into our trip we sighted an oceanic white tip. We quickly geared up, ready to plunge into the deep blue sea. It’s so comical to be hanging out with a group of people that when somebody yells "Shark!" everyone jumps INTO the water. But there we were.

They would boldly swim towards us and directly at us from any direction. We were warned by the staff to always keep an eye out on all sharks because as soon as you let your guard down, they move in. And it was true. As soon as I lost sight of one shark, I would turn around and more often than not he or she was there, coming at me from behind. 

We must have looked very odd, these black and bumpy creatures making all sorts of splashing and breathing noises, not to mention wielding large, foreign objects that continuously click and flash in their direction. How annoying we must have been. But they were graceful and elegant, slow and steady, curious and engaging. 

It was such a privilege to swim with these sharks. I’m grateful for the experience and I have a new-found respect and sense of awe for these animals.

You can click HERE to see a video that includes me swimming with the sharks off of Cat Island in the Bahamas.

-Karin A

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Lions, Tigers, Bears, an Arthritic Tortoise, and a Mountain Lion Did Nothing Fatal at the Inaugural Bryce 100

Julie W

Okay, let me preface this by saying that this is not your typical race report. It’s more of an epic tale of survival. But I guess that’s what running “hundies,” as they are known in the ultramarathon world, is all about. And it’s also a bit of a cautionary tale, for those who are planning their first hundy.

I BLAME MY DAD

I would also like to state up front that I blame my dad for this whole experience. He visited Bryce Canyon, in southern Utah last fall and told me that it was without a doubt the most beautiful place he had ever been.  Coming from a man who has literally traversed this entire country multiple times, often on his Harley motorcycle, I did not take this assessment lightly. 

Of course, he told me this merely to encourage me to visit one day, NOT to run 100 miles there. However, he should have known better. After all, he has known me literally all my life! Anyway, after getting off the phone with him, I immediately looked online to see if there was an ultramarathon there. And lo and behold, it turned out that there not only was one, it was the first ever Bryce Ultra Marathon 100. I took this as a sign (a good one), and immediately signed up (click here or on pic, below, to view a YouTube video (not my video)! highlighting the beauty and magnitude of the Bryce 100).

I’m not going to bore you all with my training for this race, as I want to get to the fun part…the actual race. But suffice it to say that I had run multiple ultras, up to 76 miles in distance, and have been using Bryon Powell’s book “RelentlessForward Progress” to train. Also, after switching my diet to primal/paleo about a year ago, my training has been going much better, and I have had no issues with GI upset, etc. during longer races (this had been a problem in the past). If you would like to know more about the primal lifestyle, visit the website marksdailyapple.com, or feel free to contact me. 

BEFORE THE RACE

Okay, on to the fun part…the trip!  Having never run at altitude (elevations during the race would range from 7,500 to nearly 10,000 feet), I felt it best to arrive a week early to Bryce. Although it takes 3-4 weeks to really acclimate (making more red blood cells, etc.), most experts believe that the majority of acclimation occurs within the first week, including significant adaptations of respiratory function. Plus, altitude sickness is usually worse in the first few days. Also, I figured if I were going to travel all the way to Utah, I should make a nice vacation out of it and see some sights beforehand. 

This turned out to be the best decision I could have made, as I was able to do two run/hikes of 9-10 miles the weekend before, and enjoy other fun activities (horseback riding, scenic drives, tours of the area) in the days leading up to the race. I stayed at the famous historic Ruby’s Inn, which is more like a little town unto itself, adjacent to the canyon entrance. It was great, as the shuttle into the canyon picks up right there, many tours leave from there, and they even had a grocery store, so I could cook my own meals (something I always try to do before an ultra). Oh, and the best ice cream and really cool rock shop, too!  I highly recommend this place if you ever visit Bryce.

An inevitability with an inaugural race is the unknowns. I wasn’t too worried, as the race director had also directed the Zion 100 the past two years, and it apparently went smoothly. I got a little nervous due to a couple of last-minute course changes, however. The first change occurred a couple weeks before the race, and led to a drastic increase in the total elevation climbed…from around 18,000 feet to around 26,000. 

The second change, which literally occurred a couple of days prior to race day, was a mixed blessing. Rather than being a complete out and back, they had decided to end the race at Ruby’s Inn. While this was great news for someone like me staying there, it would require that I either leave my car at the start and take a shuttle back afterwards (when I would no doubt be exhausted), or find a ride to the start. I immediately went on Facebook to look for someone to carpool with, and through the magic of social media was rewarded within the hour by an offer from Sarah (who will from here on out be referred to as “Tiger.” 

Drop Bags Ready:
What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

We agreed to meet in the lobby at 4:15, and her crew would drop us at the start. Ah, a crew…what a lovely concept! One thing I kept hearing from folks was how “brave” I was to be doing this race without a crew or pacer. I had frankly not given much thought to this, as I had never had either in any of my previous races, with the exception of two friends who walked through the night with me in the 20in24 race. Frankly, I didn’t really see the need for such luxuries, as you could leave drop bags at every aid station (approximately 5-9 miles apart). I mean, what could possibly go wrong? More about that later.

Race day pre-dawned with a prediction of perfect weather (highs in the 60’s, lows in the 30’s and no humidity or chance of rain). I met Tiger right on time, and was introduced to her crew: Eric from Chicago (hereafter named Bear) and Leo from SoCal (hereafter named, you guessed it: Lion). 

From Left: Lion, Tiger and Bear
Before the Race

The ultra world being small as it is, it turns out that I had met Lion a few weeks earlier when I ran the Leona Divide 50 miler. I had referred to him at the time as “Flag Pant Man,” due to the fact that he ran the entire race in 90 degree heat wearing American flag pant skinny jeans. He did this to honor his father in-law, a veteran who had recently passed away. I recognized him immediately, due to the fact that he was wearing the same pants to pace Tiger in the last 50 miles of the race. A true glutton for punishment, I’d say, considering the chafing that would no doubt ensue!

AND WE'RE OFF AND RUNNING

The race started as the sun was coming up, and we were treated to one of the most beautiful stretches of the race right at the beginning. This portion of the course was added later, and was one of the reasons for a course change. It was definitely worth it. I had decided from the start that I would go at my “arthritic tortoise” pace, as they had already stated that you could finish after the 36 hour cutoff and still receive a beautiful artist-designed belt buckle at the finish, although your time would not be “official” after the cutoff. 

Things were going really well, until I started the leg between the 3^rd and 4^th aid station. All of a sudden, it seemed like we were going straight up a very rocky path forever. Although I never had altitude sickness per se, I was definitely feeling the effects of the thin air, and had to pause many times to catch my breath. This very difficult leg was made better by my having partnered with an MD pathologist from the University of San Francisco named Harris (hereafter called trekking pole guy). 

We passed a good 3 hours together comparing diseases until he trekked his way on ahead. During our conversation, I learned that he had done the Hardrock 100 and was planning on going again this year. I was quite impressed, as this is known to be one of the hardest ultras in the world, with elevations of 14,000 feet requiring a 48 hour cutoff! He made me feel better by telling me that the Leadville 100, which I had already signed up for this August, was an easier course than Bryce, despite a higher peak altitude (12,600 feet).  

I shuffled into the 4^th aid station (just over 26 miles in) very concerned about my ability to finish this race. I didn’t know it at the time, but that leg was the hardest of the entire course. Tiger was already there, and looking very exhausted, if not outright defeated. She was having trouble eating and drinking, and this was affecting her not only physically but mentally as well. Lion and Bear were doing what they could to help, but I had concerns that she was done for the day. I certainly hoped not. 

Amazingly, being true to her nickname, Tiger kept going, and stayed around 10-15 minutes behind me for most of the day. This enabled me to visit with Bear and Lion at the aid stations, who served as my honorary crew as well. They were awesome!

The remainder of the daylight hours passed relatively uneventfully. People often ask me what I think about while running for hours on end, and truthfully you don’t have a chance to think about much except where you are putting your foot in the next step. Otherwise you will fall on your butt! In this respect, running an ultra becomes a moving meditation, and I think this is why I love it so much…you have to be in the moment. 

Thinking about where you’ve been, and especially about what is still to come, can be damaging on many levels. The course was primarily single-track, with some double-track 4WD road, and although most was not terribly technical, you definitely need to watch your step. I had brought my IPod, but never had the desire to use it. The terrain was wonderfully variable, with steep rocky stretches, gorgeous aspen groves, and of course, the amazing pink rock formations, known as hoodos, that Bryce is famous for…they look like they should be on Mars!

Beutiful Hoodos

I Think We're On Mars!

Around 8PM, I began to ascend a seemingly endless series of switchbacks leading to the Pink Cliffs aid station at mile 45. Along the way, several runners passed me going the other direction, as they had reached the 50 mile turnaround well ahead of me. They all said the same thing: “not much further to go,” and “you are going to be amazed by the views up there!” I had already learned from previous ultras not to trust the “not much further to go,” as you really have no concept of distance out there, and I tried to ignore that part. I was very curious about the view, however, and also concerned that I wouldn’t make it before sunset. 

At this point, I was mainly walking, and my stomach was giving me trouble for the first and only time that day, probably as the result of having some vegan broth at the last aid station. When will I ever learn not to try anything new in an ultra, particularly if it might have gluten in it? Redoubling my efforts, I made it to Pink Cliffs about 10 minutes before the sun went down, and was not disappointed. It was breathtaking! However, the wind was literally howling, with temperatures dropping rapidly, and I didn’t stay long. 

Trail Along the Ridge

I had also underestimated how slow I would be going, and my headlamp was at the 50 mile turnaround. Fortunately, I had stowed a flashlight in my bag just in case. I threw on my thin jacket (my other clothes were also further down the line), and headed out. It took me around 2 hours to go the roughly 5 miles between Pink Cliffs and the turnaround. The last 2 miles seemed to take forever, as the trail was very narrow and rocky, and I didn’t encounter very many folks at that stage. Although the night running was pretty cool, as the stars were amazingly bright, I could see how this might mess with my head if I were to do the whole night alone.

THE FINISH

I arrived at the 50 mile turnaround at 10:50, and was informed by the wonderful volunteers (all of the volunteers for the race were wonderful, by the way!) that they were still open for another 10 minutes. I was a bit surprised by this, as I had assumed that if the cutoff had been extended they would extend the aid station cutoffs as well. This was apparently not the case, or at least no one had told them. I was then informed that Pink Cliffs would close at 1AM, two hours after this one, and the next one at 4AM. I wasn’t worried about Pink Cliffs, as even if I didn’t make it there by the cutoff, I would still have plenty of water, etc., but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t make it to the next one by 4AM, in the dark, descending very steep and rocky paths. 

An added problem was that many of the aid stations, including those three, had no way of communicating with one another due to their remoteness, and therefore no one would know I was out there to wait for me or look for me if I didn’t show up. It was at this point that I made the very difficult decision to stop at the 50 mile point. I was too worried to go it alone in the dark, with no pacer, crew, water, etc.  

Lion and Bear were there waiting on Tiger, and I knew I could get a ride back with them.  I had never DNF’d a race before, and I was very emotional. The kind volunteers gave me a beer, wrapped me in a blanket, and let me grieve. Lion was quick to point out that DNF stands for “Did Nothing Fatal,” and everyone seemed to agree that I made the right decision.

Concerns then turned to Tiger, whom Lion and Bear had not seen since the aid station prior to Pink Cliffs. Their car couldn’t access Pink Cliffs, and because they couldn’t communicate with them, they were pretty sure she had dropped there or was en route slowly, perhaps hurt. It was very stressful, and Lion decided to head out towards Pink Cliffs, sweeping the trail as he went. Another man was looking for his wife and stepson, and Lion promised to look for them as well. Shortly after Lion headed out, a truck pulled up with Tiger in it. She had dropped at Pink Cliffs, and was looking worse for wear. The most concerning thing was her cough, which was wet and nearly constant. 

Concerns immediately went to pulmonary edema, which is a common symptom of altitude sickness. However, we had also inhaled a great deal of dust that day, so it was possible that was the problem. Either way, we wanted to get her down off the mountain as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it took another 1 ½ hours for Lion to return, so we holed up in the rental car with the heater on. 

The Rental Car.  You Can Imagine How Dirty We Were!

When Lion got back, he had some very scary news to report: As he was scanning the areas off the trail, he saw two green eyes. He thought at first that it might be a bear, but then the eyes quickly dropped towards the ground, and he knew it was a large cat. He kept running, turning his head periodically to look over his shoulder for the cat. 

Sure enough, a mountain lion came out onto the trail and stared at him. He quickly turned around, spreading his arms wide to look bigger, and the cat kept walking off the trail. WHEW!! Unfortunately, while looking over his shoulder, he stubbed his toe hard on a rock, breaking it. OUCH!! That didn’t deter him from running the other 3 plus miles to pink cliffs, though, proving yet again that ultrarunners are both tough and crazy! It was really frightening to think that I had just come up that trail 15 minutes earlier. That cat had been there all along, watching the headlamps going by. Fortunately, he decided we weren’t worth the trouble. We probably smelled too bad!

Hello Mountain Lion!  Good Kitty :)

Well, that’s about it. In the end, we all survived (Did Nothing Fatal), and had quite an experience. Lion and I went later that day to watch the runners crossing the line after 35 hours. It was hard to believe that we had gone through all that, showered, slept, had breakfast, napped, etc, and they were out there all that time! I got to see a lot of folks I had met on the trail at the finish, including Trekking pole guy, and handed out some belt buckles.

My impression of the race is that it is definitely doable, but I should have trained more with hikes, like in Bear Mountain, as much of the course was not really runnable. Also, if I’d had a crew, or even just a pacer, I could have kept going despite the closing of aid stations. I won’t make this mistake again. The race director has promised to do something to improve communications. It was an amazingly beautiful course, and I would recommend it. I will return next year...for the whole distance this time! Lion is already planning to sign up…can’t wait to see what pants he will be wearing. Thanks for reading!

-Julie W

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