2012-02-12
100 Miles!
Well it took three full weeks of running to get there, but I'm still pretty damn happy to be able to say it. The last twenty one days have consisted of 50km - 53km - 57km for a grand total of 160k or 100 miles.
Slowly but surely I'm working my way back towards the ability to cover this distance in a single day. More than anything though I'm just incredibly happy and thankful to be regularly running again.
It's not about the mileage, or the racing for that matter, it's about the simple and undeniable love of the ability to cover distances under my own steam through beautiful environments. That and that alone is what I missed most about 2011 and what I am loving the most about 2012 so far. I had a moment on a recent trail run on Orcas Island that made me realize that I desire most to be a runner for life. Competitive running will eventually fall by the wayside, and I'll be ok with that when the time comes. I am most certainly going to put everything I can into my running over the next few years, but my end goal is definitely longevity. I dream of happily and easily running distances into my 60s and 70s and I never would have had that appreciation, had I not been sidelined for so long.
I love to run, and I never want to lose that love again. I hope I am finally on the right path to achieve this long term goal.
GR
2012-02-11
Running Stupid - I Interview Ken
I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Running Stupid's very own Ken Michal in a flipping of the script as I stole his mic and took over the Running Stupid broadcast. It was a lot of fun as we traded a bunch of stories and laughs, talking about everything from The HURT 100 to WS to the common theme of over-training in ultra running. I can't guarantee you'll learn anything, but hopefully you'll at least get a chuckle or two.
GR
2012-01-08
(video) 215km East Coast Trail Speed Record
On Friday, August 20th, 2010, I set out to run the 215km long East Coast Trail from Cappahaden to St. John's in a non-stop speed record fashion. Exactly two weeks prior I had run the 75km (80km) West Coast Trail and messed up my hip (glute med) in the process. This would be the pain and injury I keep referencing in the film below, and why I was unable to run for so long following the completion of the ECT. I distinctly remember saying to my Mother the day before the ECT attempt that I needed another day or two to recover/prepare/sleep, to which she responded,
"You have to do this now. The extended forecast is turning nasty within hours of your anticipated completion. It's now or never. This is your day to do this."
Why do Mom's always have to be so damn right all the time?
I flew across Canada on the red-eye flight from Tuesday the 17th till Wednesday the 18th, departing Vancouver at 10pm and arriving in St. John's at 12:30pm the following day. I managed one full night of rest on the 18-19th, and then stayed at The Midnight Hill Manor in Renews the night before the attempt (I never got a chance to properly thank them for their incredible hospitality and support of Right To Play. THANK YOU Carol Ann and Bob)
Late on the night of the 19th, after finally feeling confident enough in my preparation, I managed less than four hours of rest before the 4am alarm went off. It was then or never. It did have to happen on that day. I remember thinking to myself that I would have DNS'ed (did not start) any other race with how I was feeling, right down to a 50k distance, yet I showed up and gave it everything I had in me. It was yet another amazing lesson in the power of the human mind and the ability to truly block out pain. I am incredibly proud of this run, and even if I had shown up that day 100% healthy and rested I doubt I would have been much faster anyways. I may just have enjoyed some of it a bit more...what am I saying? It was 35hours on my feet, how much can you ever really enjoy something like that anyways? (I loved every second of it)
The above is my official video, thanks to Erik Nachtrieb over at 1iOpen Productions for tirelessly working on this piece and trimming down my very rough, approximately eight hours of footage into what you see above.
I hope you enjoy it.
GR
"You have to do this now. The extended forecast is turning nasty within hours of your anticipated completion. It's now or never. This is your day to do this."
Why do Mom's always have to be so damn right all the time?
I flew across Canada on the red-eye flight from Tuesday the 17th till Wednesday the 18th, departing Vancouver at 10pm and arriving in St. John's at 12:30pm the following day. I managed one full night of rest on the 18-19th, and then stayed at The Midnight Hill Manor in Renews the night before the attempt (I never got a chance to properly thank them for their incredible hospitality and support of Right To Play. THANK YOU Carol Ann and Bob)
Late on the night of the 19th, after finally feeling confident enough in my preparation, I managed less than four hours of rest before the 4am alarm went off. It was then or never. It did have to happen on that day. I remember thinking to myself that I would have DNS'ed (did not start) any other race with how I was feeling, right down to a 50k distance, yet I showed up and gave it everything I had in me. It was yet another amazing lesson in the power of the human mind and the ability to truly block out pain. I am incredibly proud of this run, and even if I had shown up that day 100% healthy and rested I doubt I would have been much faster anyways. I may just have enjoyed some of it a bit more...what am I saying? It was 35hours on my feet, how much can you ever really enjoy something like that anyways? (I loved every second of it)
The above is my official video, thanks to Erik Nachtrieb over at 1iOpen Productions for tirelessly working on this piece and trimming down my very rough, approximately eight hours of footage into what you see above.
I hope you enjoy it.
 |
| These are the people that made this run possible. My Ma and Pa, my niece Kayla, brother Bryan, and his wonderful partner Heather |
2012-01-04
(Video) Taking The Stage At FEAT Canada
Back in October Sean Verret asked me if I'd like to join the line up of featured speakers for the first ever Canadian version of a FEAT night (Fascinating Expedition and Adventure Talks). The premise both scared and excited me and I said yes when everything inside of me was screaming no. I only have a handful of previous public speaking experience, and though I know I can banter and joke without question behind a mic, my last presentation left me feeling embarrassed for myself. I say this because at the time (two years ago) I simply did not know what it took to produce an engaging talk. I showed up to that one woefully under prepared, as I had left far too much for the last minute.
Fast forward to November 2011 and having learned from previous mistakes, I finally realized how much time something like this would take in advance of the night to get it right. Add to that the fact that the FEAT nights are very specific and the 'rules of engagement' are that you get 21 slides, that auto-scroll every 20 seconds, for a grand total of seven minutes. Once you start talking your slides start rolling, and the timer starts counting down. There is very little room for error or improv and as such I am not exaggerating when I say I put well over 40-50hrs into this thing before I took the stage on November 15th.
I was exceptionally nervous, even though I was among a group of supportive friends and peers. When I walked out on stage I did exactly as I had practiced. I took a deep breath, smiled, and tried to let it all flow. I had memorized the talk inside out and my plan was to easily reference the first few cue cards before finding my rhythm. I guess I was shaking so much that it was noticeable to most of the audience and all I could figure after the fact is that my shaking hands would not allow me to clearly reference my cue cards. Less than a minute in and I blurted out something like
"WHAT, THEY'RE NOT IN ORDER?" (when in fact they were)
Which was immediately followed by a numbing of my entire body and complete silence, as my world seemed to be shrinking before me. There were numerous umms, and ahhhs as I was completely rattled. The slides were rolling along and I actually turned to the organizers and said,
"Can I get a redo?"
To which the response was,
"Just talk."
Now at this point I was angry. Not at the organizers but at myself. You don't get redos in life, period. I'm thankful they simply told me to talk and left me to fend for myself. I had put so much time and effort into this thing that I doubted many others had prepared so thoroughly. Yet I somehow still found myself standing in front of an audience of 400-500 ppl looking dumbfounded and like I'd taken a wrong turn on my way to the bathroom and somehow ended up on stage.
As I was internally cursing myself all I could focus on was that I knew the damn talk intimately. It was MY TALK, how could I NOT know it. I looked up, the clock ticking away, now multiple slides behind, and just started rambling off all I could remember. I cut out little bits here and there as I knew I had to catch back up to my slides. I spoke like I did when I first left Newfoundland, when no one else could decipher a word I was saying because I can speak so fast. I continued plugging away and at exactly three minutes I finally managed to align my talk back up with my slides. I remember a huge sense of relief as this happened and again I was grateful for all the back end work I had put into the thing. Knowing my presentation so well, was all that salvaged it. This allowed for me to remove small tidbits along the way, to speed up my voice, and to know exactly when I was back on track.
Now for some reason FEAT edited out my 45second debacle, with a cut at 1m25s in. As funny as this is to say I kinda wish it were still in there as it would help explain why I was behind my auto-scrolling slides and speaking rather hurriedly to catch back up. It would also put on full display just how scared I was by the whole evening and how happy I was with myself, after the fact, for pulling it out of the ashes. I was seconds away from simply going down as the one presenter who couldn't handle the pressure. Thankfully I simply went down as the one guy who nearly botched it but somehow managed to pull his head out of his ass just in time to salvage the damn thing.
Have a watch, and feel free to let me know your thoughts. I would like to present again somewhere, sometime, and am wide open for constructive feedback.
And be sure to check out the next edition of FEAT here in North Vancouver on Feb 12th
GR
Fast forward to November 2011 and having learned from previous mistakes, I finally realized how much time something like this would take in advance of the night to get it right. Add to that the fact that the FEAT nights are very specific and the 'rules of engagement' are that you get 21 slides, that auto-scroll every 20 seconds, for a grand total of seven minutes. Once you start talking your slides start rolling, and the timer starts counting down. There is very little room for error or improv and as such I am not exaggerating when I say I put well over 40-50hrs into this thing before I took the stage on November 15th.
I was exceptionally nervous, even though I was among a group of supportive friends and peers. When I walked out on stage I did exactly as I had practiced. I took a deep breath, smiled, and tried to let it all flow. I had memorized the talk inside out and my plan was to easily reference the first few cue cards before finding my rhythm. I guess I was shaking so much that it was noticeable to most of the audience and all I could figure after the fact is that my shaking hands would not allow me to clearly reference my cue cards. Less than a minute in and I blurted out something like
"WHAT, THEY'RE NOT IN ORDER?" (when in fact they were)
Which was immediately followed by a numbing of my entire body and complete silence, as my world seemed to be shrinking before me. There were numerous umms, and ahhhs as I was completely rattled. The slides were rolling along and I actually turned to the organizers and said,
"Can I get a redo?"
To which the response was,
"Just talk."
Now at this point I was angry. Not at the organizers but at myself. You don't get redos in life, period. I'm thankful they simply told me to talk and left me to fend for myself. I had put so much time and effort into this thing that I doubted many others had prepared so thoroughly. Yet I somehow still found myself standing in front of an audience of 400-500 ppl looking dumbfounded and like I'd taken a wrong turn on my way to the bathroom and somehow ended up on stage.
As I was internally cursing myself all I could focus on was that I knew the damn talk intimately. It was MY TALK, how could I NOT know it. I looked up, the clock ticking away, now multiple slides behind, and just started rambling off all I could remember. I cut out little bits here and there as I knew I had to catch back up to my slides. I spoke like I did when I first left Newfoundland, when no one else could decipher a word I was saying because I can speak so fast. I continued plugging away and at exactly three minutes I finally managed to align my talk back up with my slides. I remember a huge sense of relief as this happened and again I was grateful for all the back end work I had put into the thing. Knowing my presentation so well, was all that salvaged it. This allowed for me to remove small tidbits along the way, to speed up my voice, and to know exactly when I was back on track.
Now for some reason FEAT edited out my 45second debacle, with a cut at 1m25s in. As funny as this is to say I kinda wish it were still in there as it would help explain why I was behind my auto-scrolling slides and speaking rather hurriedly to catch back up. It would also put on full display just how scared I was by the whole evening and how happy I was with myself, after the fact, for pulling it out of the ashes. I was seconds away from simply going down as the one presenter who couldn't handle the pressure. Thankfully I simply went down as the one guy who nearly botched it but somehow managed to pull his head out of his ass just in time to salvage the damn thing.
Have a watch, and feel free to let me know your thoughts. I would like to present again somewhere, sometime, and am wide open for constructive feedback.
And be sure to check out the next edition of FEAT here in North Vancouver on Feb 12th
GR
2012-01-02
The Things You See (a dog riding a bike)
Went for a walk, got highly entertained. Unfortunately Roxy was out for a run (she trains harder than I do) as I would have loved to see her reaction to this as well. I'm still contemplating whether the dogs owner was just plain crazy, or crazy awesome?
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