I don't know if it' just me, but after a long run in the sun the few brain cells I have seem to be replaced by a nice soft wad of cotton.  Consider it fair warning.

The day started with a quick trot through the town, and on into what we were warned was the hardest part of the course: the red hills.  Like a miniature version of the Badlands of the Dakota’s, the red hills rose up in odd formations, twisting & turning.  Beautiful!  We pinballed through these, the course sending us through the tiniest passages and up & down the steepest arroyos.  

Tough, yes, but to me the hardest part of a course are always the long flat sections that give you time to think about what hurts.  We had a nice long stretch of this after the red hills.  Ow.  Then onto the last section, a moderate uphill ending in the long downhill I' been looking forward to.  That is, until I took the first few steps down and realized my legs had been replaced by wooden stumps. Clump clump clump.

The downhill soon segued off into another, tanner version of the red hills. Thin sharp shards of mineral (quartz?) I at first thought was shattered glass poked out of the earth everywhere.  Winding up down and around these odd hills and suddenly I heard the most beautiful sound on earth.  The finish line drum!!

It is a spectacular evening here in the Gobi Desert.  I am sitting in the internet tent looking out on a mixture of racers, locals, volunteers, and children – and we are all trying to stay cool.  Most everyone is seeking shade, lingering under trees, and dangling feet in the irrigation ditch which runs with frightfully cold water.  Around camp there are lots of smiles, people forging friendships and exchanging stories from the day…and the occasional runner coming across the finish, guided in by a young drummer.

Today’s course was a treat – starting out with river crossings, a beautiful river valley, and then finishing in an expansive desert-y crossing which was curtained by colorful mountains.  While the morning was cool and allowed for lots of jogging, the afternoon heated up quite suddenly and we found ourselves slowing down, walking and drinking more.  I found myself walking with people and making friends along the way, sharing the stress of the heat with other racers, all the while trying to keep up a decent pace.

Individually, we are all feeling great and recovering from the day.  Lia came in first in the women’s division and is now catching up on some much-needed sleep.  Nicholas spent the day optimizing his electrolyte intake and last time I saw him he was enthusiastically working on the auction of our 4th Good For Kids kid…the blue boy.  After I finish with this, I am going to drink another liter of water before nodding off.  It doesn’t get dark here until 10:30 or so, and the energy around camp is so high that it will not be easy to get to sleep early.  But I anticipate another big day tomorrow, so off I go to get more rest.

Will it be hot tomorrow?  Will our bodies adapt?  Are we going to be ready for another long day?  Only tomorrow will tell. 

It all seemed so normal.  A running race in an exotic locale…meet new people and get an eyeball to eyeball experience of the land.  Then that man passing me on the trail had to comment, “You know, it’s not smart to run with a pack that big.”  His sidelong sneer stopped me from responding with anything other than a forced laugh.

I’d like to think that that man was too stuck in his little 10k world (and I did, amongst other things), but his comment got me wondering.  How did I come to think that spending much of my weekend running with a 20lb pack, often through sand, while eating some powdered concoction directly out of a plastic bag was normal? 

Surely I’ve lost a few marbles with all those jarring pack runs….or was it the other way around?

Wait, don’t answer that.  And while you’re at it, please folks, don’t ask me about the velcro sewn on my oversized shoes.  And queries as to the contents of my “…wow that’s twice as big as you!...” pack aren’t going to help anyone.  Because if I told you it was a towel baby (see the Gobi or Go Home blog), even the most over-sensitive politically correct local Berkeley denizen would be struck dumbfounded.  And three pairs of socks for a week-long run?  Please.  That is so overkill. 

Excuse me while I go weigh my flip-flops.

-Lia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are myriad approaches to training for self supported multi-day ultra races, particularly where the pack is concerned.  Some people sign the check, don the 25lb pack and start running with it from the get-go.  Others hold off until the latter part of their training cycle.  Deciding on when to start the heavy pack training can depend on a number of factors:  coaching advice, leg strength, core stability, body size, experience level, and history of previous injuries.  For some of us smaller folks, a fully loaded pack at 20lbs can be 15% or more of our body weight!  This is something to be careful with to be sure.  Whatever your approach is, I’m sure that if you haven’t put a gob of weight in your pack yet, you will very soon.  Oh, yes you will...

When prepping for the pack runs it’s easy enough to say “ok, today I need to run with 17 lbs.” but then what do you actually put into your backpack to make it 17lbs?  I’m sure there are just as many solutions to this question as there are training programs.  This brings me to the “towel baby”. 

Oh, I have had the multiple cans-of-beans days, the 2lb rice bag days, the dumbbell days, the dumbbell and rice bag days, the rice bag  plus cans-of-beans days – you get it.  I wrap a bunch of random heavy easy-to-find things in an old blue towel and jog all over creation with it.   This ridiculous contraption is a popular enough method that Team Good for Kids Foundation regularly discusses this – our “towel baby”.

The “towel baby” approach is a great tactic – easy to implement, cost effective, and infinitely adjustable. Seems easy enough, right?  Well, not always.  There really are some finer points to it.  Below I’ve listed some dos and don’ts:

DO:  Laugh at the towel baby – it’s funny!  Ha ha ha!

DON'T:  Laugh at the towel baby in public, while you’re running with it.  You will look crazier than you already do.

DO:  Talk about your towel baby with your ultra running friends.  Sure, bonding over it can’t hurt. 

DON'T:  Talk TO your towel baby – it’s not listening.  And, again, really you will appear completely mad.

DO:  Get creative!  I mean, most days I’m just a few tortillas and a can opener from having a great emergency dinner plan!  Why not?

DON'T:  Get wet – that towel gets much heavier when it’s soaked, to say nothing of the rice.

And - always remember the towel.  I almost blew up my Gregory ISO by forgetting that one golden rule.  There’s nothing uglier than a dumbbell sticking out the middle of a pack seam.  Plus, it’s quite embarrassing. 

“Is that woman running with a pack full of dumbbells?  Weird!”

What's in your training pack?  Post to comments!

- Piera

Hi,
Most of you who have already experienced an expedition footrace will understand when I say, that right now may be the toughest part of the race.  The waiting game...

If you've signed up for Gobi 2008, even though it's 5+ months away, veteran or nubbie, you probably can't wait to get to the middle of a deserted part of China to eat freeze dried food, pull a needle and thread through blisters, and spend a large part of your days packing all your stuff through dunes, water, wadis, and ranges.  Oh wait, did I saw water?  Yessss, we'll get to that later.

As our first blog entry, I should probably take a mo to introduce Team Good for Kids.  Aside from being suckers for a fun, well organised desert race,  we're also lean, mean, fundraising machines.  Or at least that's our plan come June 7.  The core team of Lia, Piera, and myself, reside in the San Francisco Bay Area.  We come from varied backgrounds and professions, frequently brainstorm udderly absurd race techniques and, quite frankly, enjoy long walks.....runs, bikes, swims, etc.   Our MO is to have fun and get as many other folks on the fun bus as possible (If you're wondering, that's the bus that gets to/from the middle of the desert).  

Our goal for the Gobi March is to inspire kids to get active in arts and sports, present the value of Good for Kids Foundation's programs and scholarships, and raise financial support  to ensure Good for Kids continues it's work- All proceeds go towards the Foundation.  Then of course we each have personal goals.  And if you're really nice to Lia and Piera, they just might share some of those with you in their blog entries over the next couple of months.

So, about that weighting.  Well, in general terms, the folks at the front of the pack have light packs and the folks' packs at the back of the pack are heavier.  The folks at the front of the pack have the most race experience, and the folks at the back have less.  Again, general terms.  But, guess what? Both folks are working hard and having fun.  It all depends on how you want to do it.  What you ask your legs to carry over 250 km/ 155 miles is itself a personal journey or vision, research, testing, testing and more testing....then implementation (aka. more testing).  We'll try to give some more nuts 'n bolts feedback in later blogs, but keep in mind, the mixture of food, clothing, and safety equipment, is unique to each racer.

From my desk, I can look out onto one of San Francisco's picturesque tree lined streets.  Add a couple inches of rain and you start to get some water crossings.  It's not ideal training conditions- a little more heat would be nice- but inspiring nonetheless.  If you haven't run with wet shoes and socks, I suggest you add wading (probably not waist high but enough for soggy socks) then running to your training schedule.  Just in case.  Mary G., how is the course looking?

I look forward to meeting you all in The Gobi.  Have fun training and please drop me an e-mail at [email protected], if you have any questions about Team Good for Kids or the Good for Kids Foundation.

That's all for now,
Nicholas