September 27, 2013

Review : Aquaphor Healing Ointment



  • Type : Anti-chaffing/lubricant
  • Use : Distance running
  • Price : 5-15$

Introduction
Ultra runners have the weirdest conversations. At a dinner one night with my friends the Millers, the stories quickly turned to chaffed groins and cracks, and I mentioned I once had severe issues because I'd forgotten my Vaseline.

Kimberley seemed surprised and asked «Why don't you use Aquaphor?», and then went on to explain how I could prevent chaffing without using chemicals on my skin. She got up and went back in the house, to come back with a Flint-sized, mini-tube of Aquaphor and told me to try it on my next run.

Trail test
A couple days later, I toed up the starting line of the awesome Javelina Jangover Night Run for a 50K in the Arizona desert, and used a generous serving of Aquaphor... under my compression shorts. The gel is way less sticky than regular Vaseline, includes some natural ingredients such as chamomille derivatives and some vitamins and feels light and fresh. I was somewhat concerned that it wouldn't stay on for the whole race, however, so I packed the mini-tube in my running vest.

Team Aquaphor runner Deborah Goodwin,
AKA VW Runner Girl, giving me the VIP treatment
I didn't feel any chaffing or friction whatsoever. Aquaphor worked like a charm, and stayed on as well. Late in the run, I stopped for some, eehhrrr, squatting meditation behind a large rock and was pleased to see that after 6 hours of running, my skin was intact and I didn't need to add any more of the stuff.

I went on to finish my race and, for a celebration, I was cheered in by Deborah Goodwin from Team Aquaphor, who litterally swept me off my feet and cheerfully transported me to the aid station – and delicious watermelon. I sure felt like a champ:)


Analysis
Aquaphor works. Although it is dye- and fragrance-free, it does use petrolatum, which is the same petroleum derivative found in Vaseline. However, I liked the feel of the gel and the fact that it stays on for a long time. It efficiently prevents chaffing and I will be using it again on my long runs and races.


High points
  • Includes natural extracts and vitamins
  • Feels fresh and light
  • Stays on for hours

Low points
  • Still uses petrolatum


The material for this personal review was supplied by Aquaphor free of charge, without any conditions.

September 17, 2013

Hunter Gatherer Ultramarathons and Survival Runs





Race director Josue Stephens
The world of distance running has been brimming with new events rivaling in creativity and magnificent settings. From jungles to forests to deserts, ultra runners now have a wide choice of quality races to choose from and experience. Our friends at Fuego Y Agua Events have been contributing a lot of these beautiful, unique events with races such as the Fuego Y Agua Ultra, on the slopes of Nicaragua’s volcanoes and, of course, Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco in the Copper Canyons of Mexico.

Fuego Y Agua director Josue Stephens has also been working on a new breed of events, races for runners who want to push themselves beyond the long distances and test their bodies to a new extreme; he’s been hard at work creating “survival” events. He took a couple moments to explain his ideas and talk about his latest creation, the Hunter Gatherer Survival Run to be held next October 5 in Texas.


Q. Josue, what the hell is wrong with you?
  • Well Flint, not sure what to say there, guess I got the ultra bug, adventure race bug and obstacle racing bug all at the same time!

  • I grew up in a fairly alternative lifestyle as a gypsy missionary kid. We traveled all over Central America, living in tents, shacks, cars, converted bread trucks, in the jungle with tribes, you name it!

  • My dad always encouraged us to be adventurous and I read a lot about the Native Americans, outdoor survival skills etc.. We also lived some years in the Chihuahua Copper Canyons amongst the Tarahumara, many of them were even living in caves back then.

  • All in all, my childhood and current racing/training inspired me to create Survival Runs.


Q. Describe your typical survival race contender? Are they ultra runners looking for an additional challenge? Cross-fitters getting into distance running? Mad scruffy paleo types?
  • The definition of a “Survival Runner” is evolving. Right now it is kind of a mix of obstacle racers who want more than short gimmicky mud runs, ultra runners who want more than just running, and extreme adventure or endurance racers who want to take on the next challenge.


Q. What will Hunter Gatherer feature in terms of challenges?
  • The basis (theme) of this race is the Hunter Gatherer way of life. So our challenges will strip the athlete down to the nitty gritty basics and put them in survival situations through the entire course.

  • While we cannot reveal all of the obstacles/challenges on the course, the runners begin with no shoes and are required to make their own sandals to run the course. Runners cannot carry a pack and are required to make their own carrying implement. They will also be filtering their own water and carrying their own food.

  • In addition to 50km or 100km runs and other brutal physical challenges, some of the survival challenges will revolve around making fire with a bowdrill, making and shooting a bow and arrow, harvesting and identifying native plants and more…


Q. You pioneered the scene of “survival” running with the Fuego Y Agua Survival Challenge last year, which I understand had all of 4 contenders finishing. Will Hunter Gatherer be as brutal?
  • Survival Run Nicaragua 2013 had 40 starters and only 2 finishers, it was absolutely brutal with a very agressive time cutoff of 20 hours for 70km.

  • Survival Run Hunter Gatherer cutoffs are a bit more lenient with 18 hours for the 50k and 34 hours for the 100k. However, because of the nature of the challenges, we don’t expect too many more finishers.

An amazing athlete:
Johnson Cruz
Q. Tell me more about Nicaraguan champion Johnson Cruz. Will he attend the race?
  • Johnson Cruz is from Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua, where the Fuego y Agua Ultras & Survival Run take place. In 2009 he won the Fuego y Agua 50k with no race experience at all. He went on to win the 2012 50k, then the 2013 Survival Run. He is now in the US for 6 months training and racing ultras and obstacle course races.

  • Johnson’s main job at home is working on his father’s plantain farm. On an average training day at home, he wakes up for a 10+ mile run, works all day harvesting plantains, goes for a noon swim, works some more, then goes on an evening run, sometimes topping it off with a track workout or bike ride.

  • Johnson is headed for the Vermont Spartan Race Championships this September, then plans on racing Hunter Gatherer before heading home in Mid-October.


Q. What are ordinary runners like me to do at an event like Hunter Gatherer? Will we be persistence hunted, then eaten?
  • The point of offering the “run-only” 50km and 100km distances is for the Survival Runners to have something to hunt. Just kidding :)

  • However, the “run-only” ultras will not be easy, they are on the same tough terrain as the Survival Runs, will only have two drop bag locations and also require the runner to bring their own water filter.


I'm officially scared.





Hunter Gatherer is an extreme survival obstacle course to be held October 5 in Camp Eagle, Rocksprings, Texas. It will feature a 50K and a 100K course designed for the toughest, wildest and strongest of runners looking for an extreme challenge. And I will be there to witness the madness, and, who knows, maybe take part?


More Information can be found at Fuego Y Agua, LLC.




September 15, 2013

Paatuwaqatsi – Water is Life Ultra Race Report


Running in itself is a liberating, fulfilling activity. But anyone who spends significant time doing it also discovers there is a spiritual dimension to it that cannot be denied.

There are people in this world who have understood this fact for millenia and who've developed such a great respect for running that they built their culture and identity around it.

I have had the privilege of meeting and running with the Raramuri of the Mexican Copper Canyons, and they have opened my eyes to the existence of what I call The Running People, a worldwide tribe that knows no boundaries, skin color or social status. This tribe speaks only one language; the simple movement of footsteps and the sound of breathing, shared in a same moment.

I met more members of this tribe yesterday; the Hopi People of Arizona.

I could write about the trail, the conditions that day or the difficulty of the course. That would be totally besides the point. The Hopi themselves will tell you; “This is not a race. This is a run.” So instead, let me share with you the extraordinary moment we shared together.

Our run didn't start in the morning, like all others do. We started all together by sharing a meal at dusk, the night before, while an elder played his drum, sang and told us stories to bid us welcome. We met fellow runners and tribe members and humbly spent some time in the company of each other.

We took off at the break of dawn to the sound of traditional chants, after chewing some “bear bark”, spitting it in our hands and anointing our bodies with it for strength. We looped around the communal campsite on desert flats, just long enough to awaken our bodies and find our own rhythm.

As soon as the terrain started to change and we began the ascent to the first desert mesa, I started hearing them. Men, women, youngsters and elders perched higher on the steep boulders, were calling us at the top of their voice. Every time, as I would get closer to one of them, I would find added strength, resolve and inspiration and offer thanks in return.

In the middle of one of the first steep climbs, I saw a woman on the trail. “Esquale”, she said, while pouring some water in the palm of her hand. As I smiled, nodded and passed her, she splashed my shoulder with the water and gently rubbed it. This was a tender gesture, I thought, and I stayed in that moment for a while, feeling very welcome.

The sacred settlement of Walpi

The climb took me all the way up to Walpi, a sacred Hopi settlement that dates back to the year 900 and that sits at the very top of Second Mesa. The view from there of the surrounding valleys and lowlands is simply breathtaking. I took a moment to look around and appreciate, to breathe the crisp air and to draw inspiration for the miles to come.

As the trail kept unraveling and I ventured further into the open, the heat started to rise. After the climb down from Walpi and a brief detour in the village lower, runners climb back up part of the mesa and head down for the open fields that lead to the top again. All along the way, people gather on the trail and call the runners, offer blessings and thank them for honoring the Land. The echoes of their voice resonate on the mesa rock walls and stay with you a long way. You are never alone.

“Thank you for supporting us, thank you for blessing the Earth.”



Every step of the way, I felt surrounded with love and appreciation. All day long, from first light until the last runner came in, the Hopis stayed out there, calling from the high boulders. My day wasn't going so well toward the end, and my right knee was hurting, keeping me from running. I was suffering. While finishing one of the last climbs, a familiar face suddenly appeared, but I was startled. The woman started apologizing and I told her not to, I was simply in my head and not expecting to come across anyone. “Do you remember me?”, she asked. I did. She was the same woman who had rubbed my shoulder with water, early in the morning.

“This morning”, she said, “I anointed you and told you to be brave”. I nodded. She grabbed both of my hands and she said “Now I will anoint you again, to celebrate your victory and to thank you for blessing our Land with your footsteps”. I took my hat off and bowed. As she had done in the morning, she filled her palms with water and washed my head and neck. It was both an honoring and an emotional moment; I put my hands together in front of my heart, and nothing else was said.

I finished the last miles reflecting on this amazing experience and on the Hopis' humbling attitude. I felt extremely privileged to share their sacred trails and to be so welcomed among them. As I took the last turn to face the finish line, I stopped one step before crossing it, and bowed again. My work was done. Like many before me, I had traveled here to make a connection and to offer the simple act of running to brothers and sisters who genuinely appreciate it. But I also felt I had traveled here to reunite with more members of something greater than the sum of us all, the one tribe I feel I truly belong with.


I had traveled here to celebrate The Running People.



Paatuwaqatsi
is run every year to bless the Land and bring water to the Hopi community of Polacca, Arizona.

Photos credit: Patrick Sweeney

September 11, 2013

Bourbon Feet On The Leadville 100 Beer Mile

In the very unlikely case you wouldn't know who Patrick Sweeney, AKA Bourbon Feet is, drop anything useful your are currently doing and have a generous dose of his awesome :



You're welcome.

So whether you are roaming around Leadville or anywhere near my beer chugging, Running Lunatic friend from Manhattan Beach, and are tempted by his shenanigans, you've been warned ;)

September 9, 2013

El Capitan : Rockies Adventure



It’s been almost 3 months and 9,000 miles of me and El Capitan traveling around the roads of Canada and the Great American Southwest. We’ve been down highways, through forests and canyons and valleys and deserts. We’ve camped out in the open and under the cover of little back roads, by ourselves and with good friends. And everything has gone really well.

I grew more confident every day and allowed myself to drive a little faster, following the flow of cars, instead of keeping a steady 65 MPH like I used to since I left Montreal. That didn’t cause any issues, until we hit the Rocky Mountains from the west side.

Since the speed limit over there is 80 MPH, I kept a constant speed of 70, on cruise control, not thinking about how steep the climbing actually is and how hard it can be on an engine. I kept an eye on the gauges, making sure the heat stayed down, and it did.

But something happened coming down from the summit. There was a strange pull in the transmission, like someone was holding El Capitan back. Stupidly, I just stepped on the gas, hit the kick down and kept the pedal to the floor until the hill was over. It seemed to work. I did it again on the next climb, and again and again.

Steep gets... steeper
There must be 12,000 feet of climb from the flats in the west to the summits in the mountains, and at one point, the hills started to take their toll. We lost power in the transmission, and the steering wheel started to shake uncontrollably, forcing me to brake and head for the curb. I thought something had been caught in a wheel, or that maybe something had broken down in the transmission. I was really nervous.

I lied down under the van and looked at everything. The transfer case was fine and nothing was leaking from the engine or under the transmission. Everything looked all right. I climbed back in and started to drive again. It went OK for a couple minutes, but the shaking and loss of power started again. I pulled over.

I couldn’t find anything wrong. We were getting closer to our destination, Boulder, but we still had 25 miles to go. I carefully drove back onto the highway, and hoped for the best. Not 5 minutes later, the whole thing started once again.

I was freaked. El Capitan was undriveable and I was on high nerves. There was a heavy silence and I was running out of options. I thought of calling the AAA, but what good would it do? I decided to drive as slow as I could, in late-day traffic, to try to reach my friends’ house in one piece. Upon reaching Boulder, I gave up.

I parked by the curb and gave my friend Dan a phone call. I asked for a reliable garage I could pull in, and he gave me an address. Chan’s on Folsom, he said, is an honest family-owned garage you can trust. I was just a couple streets away, so I decided to try and make it there. We did.

I pulled over at Chan’s, and walked in one of the bays. A woman walked out and came to me, sking if she could help. I told her about El Capitan and what he was doing. She asked where I drove from, and when I answered, she gestured for me not to worry and said “Your transmission overheated. Happens all the time.” She couldn’t take El Capitan in, but she said I should be able to drive a couple more miles.

At that point, my engine had been shut off for about 15 or 20 minutes overall. When I started the van again, it sounded way better. I carefully drove out of the parking lot, and things seemed better. I decided to drive to my friends’ house, and made it all right.

Upon getting to the house, I inspected my tires. They were not only badly worn out, but at an angle. El Capitan never was really well-aligned, but I’d pushed back the garage work to the next time I would get in and get new tires. Well, it seems that time has come.

My new Khumo tires
I got online and found a good deal on 4 highway tires (as opposed to all terrain or off-road), and realized the tires I had on were wider, which probably did not help the case. So I ended up at the tire shop this morning, only to discover they don’t do alignments. I couldn’t believe it. They guy was helpful, however, and gave me a card with a garage’s name and address. He said they were good guys and they should be able to help me out.

I got on the phone and a calm, quiet voice on the other side told me there might be room later in the day, to just drive in and ask for Dave. So I did. I got to Alpha & Omega on 49th and Pearl, pulled in and talked to Eric, the mechanic. I left El Capitan to their good care and walked away to get some lunch.

Two hours later, I walked back to find my van neatly parked and a smiling Dave in the office, finishing off a sandwich. He gave me a detailed analysis of El Capitan’s symmetry, adding “This kind of offset will sure chew your tires out”. I smiled, and said “It sure did”. He explained to me in detail the work that had been done, and I noticed the bandages on his left hand. Turns out he’d sawed off two of his fingertips a couple days ago, and didn’t want to spend the time and money at the hospital, so he just had them cleaned off and bandaged, and simply went home!


Happy El Capitan at Dave's Alpha & Omega
I shook Dave’s hand and he wished me a good trip, simple as that. For $80, they realigned El Capitan and changed the oil, and they even made sure everything was fine by driving around the block.

One thing’s for sure; anytime I’ll be in Boulder and need some mechanical work, Dave’s my man.












September 6, 2013

Santa Barbara Nine Trails Run Report


Whatever you do, never follow this man on the trails.
A great guy. An awesome photographer. A good friend. A really funny man. Luis Escobar is all of this and more, but above all, he is one badass trail runner. So, getting an invitation to go running with him was a no brainer. He wasn’t overly precise about what exactly we were going to run, but I just thought being out there on the Santa Barbara trails on a beautiful day, by the sea with running friends, was enough of a reason to go.

When he finally explained what the Nine Trails Run really was, it was way too late to make a quick exit and go hide under something. I was already on-site, attending Luis’ presentation on the Raramuri, bathing in the comfort of the last minutes of my oblivious innocence until Patsy Dorsey showed up and got Luis all excited about our run the next day. That is the precise moment when he explained this race had been designed to be the harshest, meanest, toughest run you could get yourself into. Patsy actually prides herself in stories from previous years, when a runner told her Western States was merely training for Nine Trails, or that other time when a runner finished the course, cursing, and asked to meet the sadistic bitch who’d designed the course.

I started trembling in my Luna Sandals.

Maria and I exchanged looks of fear and confusion as the scary stories kept piling up and as runners five times as mean and experienced as us would nod their heads and say they’d never run that thing again. They then went on to explain we would not be running up the mountains and along the ridges, but up and down every single steep cliff and canyon until the turnaround point, and simply do it all the way back again. 10,000 feet of misery over 39 miles. Did I mention Santa Barbara was in the middle of a heat wave, with temperatures soaring in the high 90’s?

So, what do you do to prepare for something like this? Somehow, Luis, Wild Bill Kee, John and our other friends decided the best preparation was a late night pizza, some beer and then a past-midnight camp-out at the trail head.

Morning came way to soon and I was up before first light, brewing coffee on the back of El Capitan and trying to get prepared, or rather to not think about what was ahead. Runners started coming in and I was happy to see some familiar faces from the night before. One of them was Chris Clemens, all smiles, who offered some measure of relief before we hit the trails. “Just hang back until the first peak, then keep taking it easy. It’s going to be a hard day, but you’ve got this.” He was being way more optimistic than I was, but I could take the encouragement.

The minutes leading to the start went by really fast. We took Caballo Blanco’s oath, made sure we had all our gear and food in place and just took off.

The morning was fresh and the first climb felt better than I thought. I was hanging in the middle pack and not finding it too hard to follow, so I got in better spirits. I had some nice conversation and was in great company, so I decided to just enjoy the day and have fun. Three minutes later, we started the real climbing.

Steep, dry switchbacks only made way for more steep, dry switchbacks. I quickly realized the initial pace was too fast for me, but it had been decided we would run this as a group since none of the trail was marked and that we would only get one stop at half way to refill water and fuels. I actually pulled it off quite well for the first couple hours, thinking I could at least reach the turnaround and then take it easier for the way back, since I would now know where to go.

One top of the first climb of a long, long series

Shortly after the half-way stop, we started a descent into what I think is called Snake Canyon. The downhills felt good, but the morning cool had long vanished and a hard, brutal sun started pounding on our heads. Not long after that, the faster pace started taking its toll. I needed to slow down, but really couldn’t. I clenched my teeth and decided to grind for a little longer.

By the time we reached the junction of the trail and the fire road, close to the summit, I was dizzy, tired and didn’t want to go any further, at least not at that pace. Luis told me “Nah, man, stick around for a bit longer, we’re about to start this section called The Wall and I don’t want you lagging behind and getting lost.”

Wait. The what?

Between the Copper Canyons and Colorado trails, I’ve seen a decent amount of steep stuff in my little running life. But I wasn’t prepared for what was next. They call it a road, but I don’t know how any vehicle could make it through such a steep, gnarly climb, let alone my sorry ass. I only took one look at the thing, then quickly put my head down and concentrated on putting every foot just a little farther than the other.

The weather was now in the high 90’s and my walking slowed to a crawl under the blaring sun. There was no following the group anymore, and I lagged farther and farther behind. I felt bad, because the group had to wait for me at crossings; so the next time I caught up, I told them to just go on, and leave an arrow pointing to the right direction for me to follow. It was the best I could do. My brain was frying and I couldn’t run any more. The runners agreed to leave me behind, with some of them so nice that they actually offered to stick with me for the last section.

The following hour and a half felt like an eternity. There is no explaining how hard that course is, unless you are on it. It took me half my food and water to get back to some measure of alertness, then it became a matter of keeping moving forward, hiking up and down an unending series of crazy pitches and hills filled with rolling scree.

When I finally reached the turnaround, I had long decided that I was done. Running 19 miles had taken 6.5 hours over 5,000 feet of gain. There was no talking me back into those trails and Nancy Kaplan’s offer of a cold beer and a swimming pool was way too sweet to pass. I bid the 8 runners who kept going farewell, then headed back into town for a long splash and a nap before we made it back to the trailhead, to cheer on and take care of the runners who completed the course.

I got my cooking stuff out and started whipping some pretty decent pasta and sauce, just in time for the runners’ arrival. We welcomed them like the true heroes they are, with hugs, beer and food. We stayed there for a long time, basking in the day’s last sunrays by the beautiful, but fierce Santa Barbara trails, sharing stories of our high points and struggles.

It was just then, sitting among these beautiful people, exhausted but full of life, that I was reminded what genuine trail running really means.





The Santa Barbara Nine Trails Run is an unofficial, unmarked, unsupported ultra event held every year by people with great hearts who share a true love for our sport.


Photo credits : Jon Zaid