running the water numbers

Byron Powell's ultramarathon how-to book is currently on my reading shelf. Unfortunately it's usually buried under a pile of science papers so I don't pick it up as often as I'd like but that's a trail I don't want to run down right now. From what I have read it appears there is useful information for beginner and veteran runners. Get your own copy at iRunFar.

After my Sinister7 dnf I've decided I need to add a bit more rigor to my racing and training. I particularly want to develop a fueling strategy for Lost Souls. Up to this point I've tried to eat and drink frequently without any definition of what that means.

Following Bryon's section on fluid loss I did a little test of how much water I need to consume every hour to prevent dehydration. I went for a 25.3 km run at a 5:46/km pace (so says my gps watch). The entire trip took 2:26. It was calm, blue skies and 24 deg Celsius. A nice summer day. I lost 8 pounds in sweat! I know I sweat more than the average fella and, given my lack of hot weather running, I expected to be pretty sweaty but that's 4 litres of water. According to Bryon's figures I need to consume 1.65 litres of water per hour to remain hydrated. I don't think that's physically possible. I can feel the sloshing in my stomach as I type.

I obviously don't run that fast on longer outings, which will lower my fluid needs. I will hopefully acclimate to the heat over the next 6 weeks, which should further reduce my sweatiness. I also need to repeat this test a couple of times to confirm that number (and hope its not that high again). Whatever the final number what is clear is that I need to consume way more fluids than I have been.

Sinister 7: dnf

That was ugly. Unfortunately my race went as feared rather than hoped. I dropped out part way through the 4th leg with swollen hands and uncontrollable muscle cramps in my legs. This was a hard course. The race director wasn't kidding when he said, "There are no easy legs. Some are just harder than others."

Less than a quarter of the registered soloist finished. That doesn't make me feel any better about my own performance. I know what went wrong:

1) I was grossly under-prepared. This was largely my fault. A month of field work and crappy weather didn't help but I became complacent with my training. I hadn't done any hill training. The last hill I climbed that I didn't ski down was Lost Souls 2010. My overall mileage also was way down. I've been rather uninspired to run lately. It's felt more like a job than a pleasure and I've got enough work on my plate right now to take on anything else. Hopefully I find that spark again.

2) I went out faster than I could sustain given my level of training and my unfamiliarity with the course. I kept telling myself 'this terrain will slack off soon and I'll catch a breather.' It never did. The brutal uphills, which were often so steep they were difficult to walk, were often followed by equally steep downhills that took just as much concentration and strength to descend. Leg 2, in particular, was way more difficult than I expected given it's relatively moderate ranking among legs.

3) My fueling was way off. Temperatures were higher than I was use to and I was quickly running a fluid deficit that I was never able to make up. As the dehydration grew my appetite shrank and my condition went from bad to worse. I tell myself the same thing after every race: "drink early and drink often". This course was too unforgiving to let me get away with not heeding my own warning. I need to make a fueling plan for Lost Souls that I will follow.

What I saw of the course was beautiful and I look forward to toeing the line next year.

Point Lay, Alaska: more alternative training

One of the perks to being a field biologist is that I get to visit some pretty cool places. Some places are closed to visitors or are prohibitively challenging to get to. Other places offer no main attraction to visit but are pretty spectacular none the less. Point Lay, Alaska, is such a place. A small subsistence community on the coast of the Chukchi Sea, it's more than a little out of the way, which is fine for most because there is no obvious reason to go there.

I was in Point Lay this past week to help a friend capture loons. I should have been training for Sinister 7 but how often am I going to get an all-expenses trip to the arctic? I reasoned that tromping around the tundra chasing down loons would be all the workout I needed. Besides, I was suppose to be tapering so why not do it somewhere really cool, right? 

We didn't do so well on loon captures: 10 captures attempted, 7 captures successful, and 1 geolocated recovered, which was the whole point of capturing the birds in the first place.

I also didn't get much accomplished on the workout front either. While we did some tundra marching it seemed like I spent more of my time lying motionless on the soggy ground fighting off hypothermia while trying not to bite off my tongue from shivering so hard. This was slightly less enjoyable than the blanket of mosquitoes that appeared as soon as the temperature became near warm. I can't complain too much. At least I was dry. Dan was usually wet from a dry suit that was no longer dry.

One the huge plus side we caught some loons! You also see a tonne of birds up close while laying motionless. I even saw a few caribou!

Point Lay didn't disappoint either. What a great community with exceptionally friendly people.

We were fortunate enough to be in town during their nalukataq. This is a very important celebration of the spring bowhead whale harvest. The successful whaling captain distributes whale meat and muktuk to all the families in the community. The formalities are followed by fireworks, candy scrambles for the kids, a blanket toss, and traditional dancing.

Our trip home was through Barrow, which is now the furthest north I've ever been. We had some time to kill between flights so we sat at Arctic Pizza and had burgers while watching bowhead whales sound in the bay and flocks of Common Eider stream past the shore. It was pretty surreal and a great end to a great trip. Thanks Dan.