Now back in the comfort of my home and family, I can reflect on the transformative events of my week in the desert and the abutting travel in Israel, Palestine, Egypt, Jordan, and the UAE. The common feeling all participants to a desert race experience is an intense sense of gratitude and humility.

Feelings of gratitude and humility start on the first night, occillate as the roller coaster of struggle takes you to unprecedented levels of pain, followed by fleeting euphoric moments of success, and return permanently at the finish or shortly after the event when able to have some distance from the race. And it soars when re-entering your forever altered life, along with confusing bouts of “what now” The desert always leaves you marked; but aren’t all of life’s triumphs filled with scars? 

Why gratitude and humility? 
The desert is over-bearing. I guess being at sea or in the mountains may yield similar feelings; the expanse is so vast, beyond imagination. Devoid of obvious life, further than the eye can see, majestic in its size, beauty, solitude, and danger. It is reshaped every day; perfect giant waves of sand with a tapestry of colors and sand veins left by the ever present wind. That is the visual feast afforded to those who get dropped in the desert, a 4 hour bus ride outside of Cairo, in the middle of nowhere.  I think the beauty is amplified by how fearful most competitors are of what awaits them. 
Until that drop off moment, there was an escape valve. Now committed; there is no going back, the bus is ... gone! Having trained for 6 to 12 months, and made a large number of personal and family sacrifices along the preparation journey, we had now achieved the starting line. In fact, we saw the starting line as we exited the bus and knew at 7am the next day that the race would start. There are 25-40 countries with athlete representation, and their flags adorn the start line. Our group located the Canadian flag for a hug or a kiss. Some first timers likely didn’t think it was likely they would make it this far when they had signed up, in itself, just showing up is an achievement to be grateful for although some would not finish. 

On the night before the race, most take in their first desert sky; there shining are the brightest stars ever seen. My friend Mehmet Danis had shared that the stars go down lower on the horizon line that he had ever seen. Stars shining, seemingly below you; it feels you can pick them. You are off balance, humbled by it all.  

Shortly after 7am the next day, immense suffering will confront each of us in a way never previously experienced. You could map out in your mind what having blisters, locked hips, shin splints, knee or Achilles tendinitis, chafing, gastro problems, or dehydration could feel like, but until you live it, you are blind to how you will respond while running; going home to rest is no longer an option. A combination of the above is coming at you. Which emotion will you choose? Anger, fear, upset, annoyance, acceptance, denial, joy? Invariably, most emotions will pass through you at a point in time, changing every 15 minutes, based on your level of discomfort, and your perceived level progress towards your own objective. Your mind will trick you, continuously testing your will, self-esteem. Will the voice encouraging you to stay the course and go faster when all other signs say slower be loud enough to be heard, or will it be dismissed?

Until crossing the finish line of the day’s marathon, 50% of competitors will have self-doubt that this could be repeated 6 times in 5 successive days.  Experienced desert runners will know that their body will re-generate overnight. The second morning, as most realize they healed faster than they expected, most will think “yes I think I can do this again”, a runner’s gift to be grateful for. For example, my toes were completely vandalized and I wondered what type of doctor I would need to see in order to care for them upon my return. The day of my flight back to Canada, while in Dubai, I posted a picture on facebook of the blisters and all. I wondered when I might run again. 6 hours later, after swimming in the Gulf of Aqaba, the magical effect of salt water had done the trick. I pried and cut loose the skin and the attached toe nails of 4 toes and went for a modest 3km beach run, barefoot. All my toes now lack a nail, and the new skin is tomato red. But they work, I can run again and no doctors needed. 

Post race, having the experience of re-entry into one’s life is a true form of renewal. First, for most people, it was the first time ever they were disconnected. They were almost completely focused on the task at hand of finishing the race. Most didn’t think about their work or even their families. They were possibly “present” to putting one foot in front of the other for hours. Clearing the brain is what meditation clinics offer as their promise and that’s mostly what happens in the desert; after a while, you get out of your thoughts and the brain gets to that quiet place.

I would describe re-entering family or work this way. It is a bit like having a major accident, a close call of sorts, and then realizing everything is in fact going to be OK. All participants are likely to connect with a heightened sense of appreciation for the people they missed, the life too often taken for granted, the job we hold, and the comforts we have built around ourselves. Most of us learned lessons in humility and the power of community; It is very difficult to finish the race without being touched at the core by the communal support of tent mates, competitors, and the emails we would read every night from well-wishers. You get reminded that you are in this together. Of course you get beaten up by the desert, see others around us suffer even more, most pushing through pain that is even beyond what you think you could handle. Other runners will profoundly affect your experience positively. For example, my running colleague Alison Simpson was severely dehydrated and needed two large bags of IV to return from her desert induced hallucinations. It was scary when we walked her back to her tent. Then the next morning, she showed up to run 85km. Her fighting spirit reminded me of what I am capable of and gave me wings to push harder.

In the end, everyone is left knowing they pushed themselves to their limits, gave it their best. It would naturally evolve that since most of us choose comfort over giving our best, that the question for many is this: I have one life to live. Am I giving my life my best? Am I giving my family, my work, myself my best? It is a great question.

The desert races locations provide more than the race itself; they open the curtain on parts of the world one would not see. I ran in the Gobi desert while parts of Kashgar, our finishing line, was being demolished and 300,000 people were being expropriated from their ancestral homes; days later almost 200 would die in protest, brutalized by the Chinese army.

I ran in the Atacama 10 days after the devastating 2010 earthquake in Concepcion which killed more than 500, and experienced 5 other earthquakes while there, seeing the casualties first hand in Santiago. We exited the plane on the tarmac as the brand new Santiago terminal was too damaged to be operational.

This time, I got to a slice of what goes on in the Middle East and Northern Africa. While in Jerusalem, demonstrations were taking place to pressure the government to trade prisoners to liberate Sarjeant Gilad Shalit. A few days after the race ended, a pact was made (6 years later), to return Shalit, an Israeli prisoner captured by Hamas in Israeli territory. In typical lopsided fashion, Israel showed its citizens how much they valued those who fight for her; they exchanged 1021 prisoners, many of them terrorist, to save ONE soldier. It brought another level to leaving no man behind.

The day prior to flying to Cairo to run, Leslie and I entered Palestine and our Jewish guide was of course barred. He will likely never be able to go back to this part of Israel for the rest of his life. Then, post-race in Cairo, while we enjoyed an exquisite well deserved dinner at Sequoia on the Nile, with fellow Canadian Ernie, Anne-Marie, and Colin, another page was added to Egypt’s path towards democracy. Or was it? Shots were fired and we could see the blue sparks just across the river, 500m away. Fireworks I thought. Some shouting; a celebration possibly? It lasted 2 minutes.

An email came from fellow Nabs runner Pat Sullivan who was at another restaurant in Cairo and watching TV live; “Leave where you are and return to your hotel immediately”. Hundreds of Coptic Christians were demonstrating to gain attention to the oppressive interim army-led government’s decision stating Christians can’t practice their faith freely and build churches while no such restrictions are put on the much larger Muslim majority. Christians and Muslims have co-existed happily for 1500 years in Egypt, and now that democracy is possibly near, it seems that path isn’t exactly democracy for all. 26 Christians were shot dead 500m from us, the army using undue force to quell petitioners and demonstrators. Who knows what the Arab Spring will truly result in? Will I ever go back to this explosive region?

A couple of days later, due to a diplomatic issue between Canada and the UAE, one of us, Ernie, was barred from boarding a flight to Dubai. It was completely avoidable but the Air Jordanian Airline representative decided otherwise. It was the end of his trip.

All this to share that there is so much to be grateful to have been born Canadian and have the privilege to live here or in the Western world.

As our 8 Nabs running colleagues all ease back to work, family, and community, I wish them well and congratulate them from the bottom of my heart. We raised in excess of $100,000 for Nabs, a bold number seemingly impossible, all returned safely, and we all had a memorable personal and communal experience at the same time. We discovered things about ourselves we were blind to. And new revelations offer other avenues to explore, be it for work, family, or personal experiences.

I will be observing how they re-enter. Will they be more patient with people around them? Will they react differently to a missed deadline on a key project? Will they re-commit themselves more profoundly to what they do or will they want to change the direction of their lives. Will it be subtle or plain obvious for all to see? Will they remain grateful and humbled for the lessons the desert taught them? Will I?

Personally, I am just happy to be back. I feel re-invigorated and very grateful to just to be able to write about it.

Carpe Diem

Stefan 

Stefan is an executive recruiter by day and author by night and has published Gobi Runner which can be found on Amazon

 

 

 

 

 

Some extraordinary highlights on the Nabs front; all our 8 runners took on the 87km day and 6 completed it, which given the course’s conditions, was beyond anything I could have imagined. It speaks to the indomitable spirit everyone brought here. Oddly, at various points in time during the day each felt much better than in the first 2 or 3 hours of the race. How could one go and run/walk 87 km in the desert if the night before they were on an IV drip or on antibiotics? That’s what a couple of our Canadian women did. While I never doubted they could; it seemed very improbable. Seems like the meditative sort of drug kicked in after 10-12 hours or so, when the sun came down. They are all safe, healthy, and despite the blistered feet, dirtiness, bandages, IVs, antibiotics most will say there’s no place they’d rather be. To give a visual, I am typing while lying in the sand with my feet up as they swell up within minutes; the 100m walk to the dug in and draped squatting only washrooms feels like a mile away, and most are walking much slower than the oldest senior you know. It is zombie-land. People from different nationalities speaking foreign languages look at each other, smile, and shake their heads wondering what happened to all these fit people who showed up in Cairo a week ago. The desert has done its thing. Life hands out tough challenges and this is likely the toughest week the NABS crew has had to overcome; if not, it is certainly the hardest one they have chosen of their own will. But it is over and tomorrow, we all get to have a photo op running in front of the pyramids! Our challenge is over other than some healing required; meanwhile most of what NABS can do is offer hope that healing will come soon. What I am convinced of is that our individual adversity quotient will rise and future tests/encounters will seem simpler and more manageable when they arise. Life’s simpler pleasures will be more treasured, like a glass of cold water, a shower, or clean clothes which we would all gladly pay a fortune for right this minute.

 

In my tent, buddy Mehmet Danis was going to go for broke to try to catch the guys in front. He never caught them but ended 2 minutes behind Eric, a former winner, and Dan Parr, also another former winner. Tomorrow as we rise to the pyramids, we can actually stay close to them and watch the mechanics of gifted athletes who are also likely the hardest working runners in the world who are non-professionals. Our pain threshold is mainly around managing the physical toll on the lower body and trying to retain positive attitude to keep moving. Theirs also include doing so while competing full out and having their heart rate in the red zone without collapsing. His performance is hard to describe unless you are here; but to put it in perspective, he is more than one hour per marathon faster than we are as a team; but his gift is how he elevates everyone in our tent and NABS’ with just-in-time observations on gear, strategy, or defusing stressful situations with humor. Louie is also racing extraordinarily well and he sits mid-teens. He is a frequent customer of the medical tent too.

 

We had a team briefing the night prior and discussed our strategy for the day. We concluded that for a win, the Italian team would need to have an implosion. Sad when strategy is based on surviving to be around to fight the last round but that was it. We figured to run our race but stay in visual contact, and attack at km 50 if we were still alive ourselves.

 

The pace was blistering and we were with, in front, or just behind until 20km, Ernie mostly leading. The Checkpoint (CP) had a retail store and we grabbed a coke for Sophie, her chosen sugar booster for later. We cursed not buying out the whole store – why did we only buy one! Then we started to rise for 10km or so in the Valley of the Whales where petrified sea animals can easily be found. The pace was such that I took pictures, while running – I look forward to see the whales when I get pictures from other runners! Sophie did much of the leading.

 

We kept a visual with the lead team and started getting closer. By 30km we would enter a checkpoint for water pitting and they would leave it. At 40km, while ascending a massive, steep sand dune, their pain was evident. I led most of that stage, feeling like I was having just the right level of electrolytes to keep me going painlessly. By 50km, we entered the CP a minute apart. Mental calculation was to get ahead by the next CP, take 10 minutes, at the 7th, another 15 at the 8th, and 20 on the last one to erase our 45 minute deficit. An unlikely and tall order, but it was the only way to gradually make it work to make out a W. I got excited; it was unfolding as I thought.

 

The way my mind works at this point is that I’ve suffered 9 months of training, made countless sacrifices and I want no regrets. We made a first pass at them and they responded as expected. Fine. We did a second one and they did. With months invested, I am going to go down swinging, trying, 100 times if need be. I remembered thinking I was doing my best in the Gobi March when I knew I was first Canadian and first in my age class on the 80km long day. I had needed for another Canadian to blow by to awaken in me what was possible and to show me I had in fact settled. Settling is insidious - it sickened me and ultimately I pursued him down. I never caught him but felt so alive going to exhaustion and just learning there is always a little more in you than you think there is, all that untapped stuff we never access, or are blind to.

 

I’ll spare the experience of km 55 but it became apparent we weren’t in a position to die trying. It was a huge setback to me as finishing #2 meant nothing per say, I preferred to go for broke. Imagine the conversation taking place as our team discussed our feelings on the matter next to a team of 4 Italians within inches of us, themselves being marshaled to respond. I blew my top, couldn’t contain it. It was horror.

 

After a few minutes, using some of the techniques I have been learning to bounce back quickly and clear myself of the feelings that can rob me of a good moment, I had let it go. It wasn’t going to happen. And if not, honor them and help each other get to the finish line as fast as possible, together. I talked to Roberto, then he to Paolo their captain and we agreed to move as fast as possible and help each other get the day done. It was a gentlemen’s agreement (sorry Soph..) and everyone relaxed.

 

The sun was setting, and it became a beautiful night to cherish forever. We were building a memorable finish, 7 of us together. Roberto is a prince, 5 kids including 4 girls – he kindly offered advice on teenage hood – possibly you get more authentic advice after 65 km? He remarked the color of the Sahara is very much like his home town of Siena. As for the Sahara, all of Siena is homogeneous looking. I remember finding the city absolutely beautiful, and years later finding out is it an actual color in the paint department. Same with Sahara, one grade lighter.  Enrique talked about his love of running and tennis. He shared he owned a home in France too. We talked about our families, we had so many similarities. Michele, the 2:30 marathoner doesn’t speak English, and his legs do the talking. Soph was happy, she liked their smell; they are clean shaven, eat real food, and wear cologne I think. I ran next to Paolo, the captain who is a celebrity runner in Italy and we went as hard as we could without talking for extended periods of time, lights turned off, using the moon light to guide us. And we walked a lot too. He shared he practiced running on the beach with eye covers to increase the tactility of his feet so he could run at night in the desert, free and uninhibited. He is one of these guys who has combined personal interest with profession; he no longer is an ER, he is now a personal trainer. His science background has allowed him to leverage nutrition and he shared how they prepared for the race, including blood analysis and required blood nutrients and minerals to optimize it for the heat. It was very informative and the opening for that conversation hadn’t been possible until that point. They left little to chance; I even had his publicist send me an email after reading my blogs! You could say he took this race seriously, as I did. He suggested we do one of these together one day, in the same team.

 

I ran next to a world class champion in the middle of the night in the Sahara, after having started at 7am that morning. It was beautiful. The 7 of us crossed the finish line together laughing with their camera crew in tow filming it, exchanging polenta for sport beans. We came in 2nd but gave a good fight; the closest 1-2 finish in RacingThePlanet’s team competition history. They thanked us for pushing them and we did the same. We need to nurse our body parts, Ernie has bad ankle and Sophie’s feet are badly mangled up. Sophie is an incredible champion; she won the women’s category by 6 or 7 hours overall but because she is registered as part of our team, she and others here will know but she will be without the large trophy. Also the highest finish for a woman as part of a team entry – we came in the top 20 overall as a team.

 

Tonight we will have the cigars, champagne, and polenta and close the chapter and make it a memory to savor. And more important, I read we were now at $97,000 for Nabs! Thanks for your encouragements and pledges.

 

Carpe diem,

 

Stefan

All our Nabs tent mates are in. It looks like the feeling of community has hardened and every one looks after the other. A few are clapping when one finishes, others carrying their bag to the tent with their new supply of water. It is a little village and they are bonded for life. Some are running together, like Gav and Alison, and others go with another participant of their speed level, or solo. They are all here for their own reason and will leave with new insights. Anne-Marie returned to the race today and finished triumphantly. Colin is getting healthier and intends to run tomorrow. He and Mariska greeted us at the finish line and it is an incredible moment when you have a friend hug you. Gavin has turned out to be the strongest desert runner of the group and he also can claim the best toes. Pat and David are hurting (David got worst toe award) and they will summon their experience having led companies to get this one done. Mariska is day to day with an infected toe - but her will is to do it. Alison was in sick bay tonight, dehydrated, and is now day to day. We walked back to the tent and she was her usual enthusiastic self. She is the most experienced and perseverant runner of the group and if she can have a good night sleep, she will likely take the start. Sandy is sick but finishing every day with a 1000 watt smile. Right now, they are all thinking about how impossible it is to run 80km +.

As Mehmet has told me, if you are still in the race, no one quits on the long day. You`ve come this far; all participants want that $2 medal...

Mehmet wasn’t in his usual position when we finished, banging the bongo. He was sleeping. Can you believe it? I guess when you go through the desert twice as fast as others, a little cat nap can be excused. It is awesome to tent and run with him, that it for the first km until he disappears. Louie is having a wonderful race; he stands 7 minutes ahead of us overall.

As a team, we had a great outing today. We stayed with the Italians for the first 10K and then they disappeared. We basically never saw them again. Without that visual contact, it becomes more challenging to push - without that navigational compass you can feel lost - but somehow we managed to be beaten by only 15 minutes or so. We were thrilled with our effort, Ernie was strong and likes to lead, and Sophie wins courage award as she had nausea all day and somehow, she buried it somewhere in the desert until we crossed the finish line. I just finished giving her Reiki to heal away her troubles. She is one tough girl. For me, oddly, I think the altitude training is paying benefits as it has been easy thus far, easiest yet anyway. Odd to say but the desert agrees with me despite the drilled toenail and 8 blisters. I don`t even know they are there, yet if you saw any of our feet you wouldn’t believe we can actually run. Mehmet explained "sensory receptors scan for acute and dull pain and dull takes over". I guess this explains why the pain goes away - nice to have a Dr. in the tent. 

We have worked very hard, every minute of the race, to put ourselves in striking position and that day, the long day, has now arrived. Today, until we lost the leaders, their captain was constantly looking back to assess our progress; nice badge of honor to have the 5th ranked ultra-marathoner in the world (see his website) think we are a threat. I sense that strategy may succeed but 12 hours of looking over their shoulders might be tough on their team as I learnt personally in the Gobi as I spent too much time playing defense versus doing my own race. We huddled and have agreed to make small adjustments to leverage our preferences but we will run our own race with a strong finish and let the chips fall where they may. Given the three of us have won as part of a team before, we know what to expect. That is our advantage - we are confident! Either way, it will have been an amazing experience. We are running through the Valley of the Whales which will provide exquisite views.

Now it is all about not getting sick sanitary conditions have deteriorated with 25 with a virus. We need to be able to fight for about 12-14 more hours before a few photo ops at the pyramids of Giza. No blogging on Day 6. Speak soon.

Thanks for all the kind words.

Carpe diem

Stefan

I have published a book called Gobi Runner. Please contact [email protected] for a copy. Along with 8 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

Everyone is in and the emotions range from this is extraordinary to can’t wait for the slaughter to end. Today was the toughest day yet, more sloppy sand; therefore more time in the desert meaning more sun baking. Think of it as the physical breakdown that happens slowly until it is too late. I told Mehmet it felt like I had a fever 2 or 3 times today, waves of fever going through your body with shivering and all. ‘Yup, your brain sends your body temperature regulation signals to cool down the house’ he said. At sunset as we did yesterday, a few of us, pat, mehmet, anne-marie, gav, alison, david went to the dunes behind the camp; sheer beauty – absolutely magnificent – the sahara in all its splendor, wind shaped.

I’ll skip details as I got to the cyber tent late and they are shutting down. I had a hour of self-surgery last night while a few tent mates were snoring up a storm. I sedate myself with sleeping pills then I get up at 430am to start my eating ritual including coffee. I’m alone with a couple of Japanese guys and we eat with our headlights on. I have felt ready to compete every morning. 

The first leg was unbelievably beautiful, massive rolling waves of sand – ‘laurence of arabia’ said one of the Italian runner. We ran with them taking pictures of each other. They are fast and we ran the first 10k in an hour which in these conditions is very fast. By then, 30 seconds behind, we were done. I don’t know if you can relate and reality stares at you and tells you no, not today. It’s hard to come to that realization early. I always think it if failing is inevitable, better to fail quickly than slowly to avert all the unnecessary pain that comes with the experience of things not working out. I appreciate the experience but… today, that realization came too early and I started thinking we wouldn’t be able to pull this off until the long 90km day, and that would require a miracle in and of itself. As my friend nancy vamvakas said in an email, ‘god does his best work in the desert’.

Mehmet, ever the optimist, shared that 2 years ago, paolo who leads the Italian team won the overall race and entered the long day in 4th. So anything can happen. It just felt like it slipped away; we have put so much into it. It is all relative, Mehmet is in the same situation, re-framing to making a 3rd overall feel like a win. Life is tough when you have expectations; my previous two campaigns, I had none but to finish.

Another experience was feeling like I had a lot of fuel and to have to dump it out of the tank, not to be used today. It was interesting, it took me 15 minutes or so to choose the beauty of it all. Day 3 was not a technical course, flattish, relatively speaking, without huge ascents which tends to favor them as a team. When it is technical, we gain ground, when it is pure running, they are in another league.  once I made peace with the day I found a way to truly enjoying myself, pinching myself with the serenity of it all, despite having thrown in the towel. Funny, then the team got energized and I was the laggard. I almost felt cheated; it took me a while to try to get back into it; I had worked hard to experience a different day and now that had to change. Even though it was the right thing to do and I am very proud that we did give it our collective best, every minute counts – crazy we had started the day as the leaders by 90 seconds after 2 marathons. Imaging chasing down someone who has robbed you for 7 hours – that’s what we did. They beat us by about 30 minutes and hats off to them. I had a moment at the last checkpoint as I checked the hand written time gaps and saw that their last man was 45 seconds behind, meaning the team was detached. It is in my mind impossible to be within 25 meters of each other at all times and yet show up at a checkpoint 45 seconds before your last member. It was disappointing to have to see the pit crew try to defend what was plainly obvious on paper but we had to let it go; rise above it and try our best tomorrow – best team won today.

You need days like this to appreciate how precious being in the lead is. We had it yesterday. It is a passing moment and I should always stop to enjoy it a bit more. Metaphor for life.

When all was said and done, we had tons of giggles in the tent which reminds me of how amazing my gobi tent mates were and how great Clancy was in Atacama. 

Miraculously the ward is full but people are moving around after couple of hours of recovery. There is a broad range of emotions in the nabs tent, there is suffering beyond anything they likely ever experienced. Send them your care, we are all incredibly touched by the support and care messages we are getting from home. Les thanks for so generously sending message to me and others, you have no idea the impact of it.

Got to go, time is up and my feet have just ballooned.

Carpe diem   
stef

After a little champagne last night to celebrate, nothing could have prepared the Nabs crew for what laid ahead.
 
Good new, the crew is in and safe! Bad news is we lost three to battle; i feel sickened. It is hard to describe what is going on right now and you can read their blogs to find out. Tip your hat to them, it was the toughest day of desert running in my three races so far.Temperatures were manageable hovering around 40; the issue was the stage itself. Lots of deep sand, horrific for the feet. The crew was out there a lot longer than yesterday, 7.5 to 9.5 hours causing more blisters and dehydration. People were falling like flies, bonking. I can`t even think of what our Nabs mates are thinking about at this time, given there is still a bit more ahead.... THe camp is set up approximately 500 feet above a valley whic we had to climb to. I was worried for Sandy (how suitable a name - today`s stage was called Sandy Horizon) and I ran down part the hill with RTP`s permission to be the sentry and cheer her up. When I saw her, I ran down to her, teary and so proud of her will, and expecting the worse. After the big hug; "Hi Stef, I feel great  -  it`s one of the best day I`ve had".  Weird things happen here, and bless her she is looking at the journey and has it all in perspective. We will all be in the medic tent tonight, all mangled up. I haven`t inspected all of the feet but it is not good; they are shocked and they will hopefully find a communal fun in helping each other in th tent..
 
I spent time with Colin last night bathing my feet; not good. And today, they gave out and I will have to perform the ritual of drilling through one toenail to relieve pressure, and puncture two blood blisters. I had 5 blisters last night, 3 bad ones. Tomorrow I will be on antibiotics; One of themhad a half inch of blue swelling. i guess my running technique isn`t quite up to snuff as i seem to collect them.
 
Mehmet Danis rocked today; he was within minutes of Eric Lahaie who isalso a world class runner. He sits in third and anything can happen therefor the overall standings. We are lucky to have him around; for perspective, he ran today`s stage in 3:58. The is for someone whor runs a marathon an hour faster. But for most of us, the ratio of speed is a lot less. He and Eric and Dan who leads just float on the sand. Former mate Louie Santaguida was floating too, having cracked the top 10 for a good part of the race until he got in trouble.
 
Our team effort was huge today. We marked the Spaniards and basically stayed in their trousers until Checkpoint 1. Ernie was going so fast, Sophie and I were in the red zone trying to keep up.The Italian team was behind us but we never looked back. And then something unexpected happened; the Italians blew by us and the Spaniards. And they looked real strong - there was no hesitation in their gait. We followed, passed the Spaniards but couldn`t keep pace. The Spaniards seem to never recover; they finished 90 minutes after us. Dunno what happened to them.
 
Our pace slowed down and my strength returned. We are operating with a number system and I was a 3-4 from then on, which hasn`t really happened to me as i usually grin and bear. Today was my turn to do Ernie`s job. As it happens in teams, Soph and Ernie were having a tough day. I pulled as much as I could, trying to negotiate a little more from them (the reverse is standard). We believed we had an 8 minute lead on the Italians from Day 1 and while i wanted the stage win very badly, it wasnt going to happen; so I focused on trying to stay within 10 minutes for a virtual pole after Day 2. I made a blunder; before Checkpoint 3, we had closed the gap to within meters and I mis-assessed how strong we were as both of them are typically stornger than I. We made an attempt to pass them and didn`thave enough to create that defeating separation you need if you overtake. We woke up the bear. It wasnt pretty; they looked at us and took off.
 
By Checkpoint 3, they were 10 minute ahead and therefore the virtual leader. We went through unbelievable sand dunes 300-600 feet wild decents when you fly like a bird, choosing how much air time you are willing to risk - feeling like a child, and then the dune awaits you where you schlup up in pain.
 
On the last ascent, about 600 feet straight uphill, we heard the bongos celebrating their arrival. I looked at my watch and we squeezed as much out of the team as we could. We worked our little buns off running the last section literally against th clock. We think we pulled it off aand are virtual leader for by 2 minutes! Crazy isn`t it.
 
Paolo Barghini who captains the Italian and is amongst the 5-10 best in the world at this sport and he came over to congratulate us. We are in their kitchen and we will see how it plays out. We agreed to smoke my cigars together when all is said and done. We are lucky to have a chance to compete against incredibly accomplished guys and hope we can keep together. We are in serious pain but a good night sleep will help, after we have team champagne to loosen my pack further. I didnt think we would be in this position but now we know we can compete. Anything goes.
 
Leaving to take pictures, the vista from the plateau is to die for.
 
Carpe diem
Stef

Day 1 Strategy - Observe & Learn, and Try to go for the W

I am ecstatic; our colleagues from Nabs are all in. Dusted but in, last one was in by 8 hours, firstjust under 6 hours I think. I was weepy 8 times greeting them at the line. All you runners know what it`s like to cross the finish line and get the double hug as my daughters call them. I felt like papa! I was field marshall for recovery procedures; carry gear to tent, take shirt off to dry to avoid the bad small, blow up the mat, ensure their feet are up tominimize swelling and ensure 1 litre of recovery is ingested within 30 minutes. And somehow, regardless of how beaten up each and everyone is, that routine is the tonic to amaze oneself that it will be possible to go at it again tomorrow.
 
We had heroic performances. We had athletic ones.All in 46 degree heat; absolutely brutal - has anyone tried to run in that heat? Ithe vividly remember 50 in the Gobi on Day 2 but the sand was harder packed. And the sand was definitely the softest I`ve seen on flats. You can read their blogs to find out more; I don`t know how Anne-Marie will herself to the finish but she is our heroine; she had to endure more heat, consume more liquids. I wouldn`t be able to do it. Sandy was also an inspiration; she is a gifted runner who experienced first hand what running in sand is like - deserts can take more out of good runners as they have pace and gait that has been repeated forever and all of it is thrown out the window here. Tent #3`s powerhouse was Alison Simpson; she leads the women overall and by a good margin. I`m so happy for her. She has 29 marathons under her belt; 35 by Saturday! She is the one that inspired me to do urban running when I travel; a great way to see the world`s cities like i did in Jerusalem last week.
 
On the team side; I admit I was apprehensive; the most I ran in the past 18 months was 25km so there were question marks for me. We know Sophie is the most accomplished ultra-runner and Ernie is the fastest. Today, it all worked out as per our strategy (see previous blog) so we got lucky. We marked the Italian team and ran with them for the first 7km. We were hoping to be within visual and try to make a move in the last 10K if we had it in us. One fellow needed to relieve himself and we decided to pass them, 30KM earlier than expected. From then on, we were prey. We got to Checkpoint 1 and were congratulated for our performance; "Great job guys, you`re in second place" the person on duty said. Pardon me I asked, incredulous. "Yes the Spanish team was here 15 minutes or so ago." No sight of them, and strong runners 2 minutes behind. We were squezed in and felt victimized; how can this be a team signing up last night. We didn`t know and aren`t impressed; all our prep was about another team. Anyway, the desert is all about dealing with the cards you are dealt and adjusting quickly. We worked sooo hard to try to catch them and not be caught. At the Checkpoint 3, we were about 8 minutes behind and by now they knew we were coming. Til then Sophie had been getting steadily stronger, she says she is a slow starter and the meaner, softer, hotter it got, she got faster. Ernie as usual was managing the front and the pacing; poor guy he can find a rythm with slower runners, so he accelerates to the allowable distancelimit of 25m and then brisk walks as we catch up. Prior to Checkpoint 3, I started having serious groin and knee issues and twitching muscles I didn`t know I had - tiny little leg muscles. It was very odd and luckily, the pain was acute for 20 minutes and it disappeared; i think i was dehydrated.
 
At Checkpoint 3, I had a surge of energy, it felt like i had found a zone. We had agreed on our communication protocols and in the heat of the moment, i rushed Ernie who was then in pain. Everyone has a routine and when we get to a checkpoint, we hadn`t discussed our preferred styles.I could smell blood and wanted to go after the leaders, time was running out. Thoughtless on my part, we needed to clean it up after the race. That`s team sport.
We made ground and could now clearly see them and slowly reeled them in. Then I ran out of gas and finished on fumes while Sophie was getting stronger and Ernie had dug down and found new energy. He paced us almost all day and that job is not easy; he offered me the baton today and I didn`t have the energy to take it. We are approximately 4 minutes behind the Spaniards; and we are so luck to witness a lioness in Sophie. Were she running the Female category, she would be first by an hour. Same happened to her when she won the team event in the Gobi. Ernie and I had discussed our wish to see her win the virtual Women`s event and we even discussed imploding our team if we were going to get smoked in the team competition and not be in contention. With Alison now in the lead, that is quite a moral conflict! So might as well try to win the team competition...
 
It is a real privilege to run against incredible teams. They will force us to find out what is possible for us. Some amazing developments also occured today. Louie Santaguida who ran Atacama with Ernie and I blew by. I am so thrilled for him - he came in 10th place overall. We saw him early in the race and then he went. I giggled, he declined running with us to avoid slowing us down! He is an amazing guy with very good genes and a tougher mind. Mehmet Danis, my ultra hero and main source of inspiration is also in my tent. He is the most generous soul, helping all of us as well as the Nabs tent. He is here to try to win the overall; two years ago, he was leading after two days and got sick, finishing 17th. I bow to all the guys at the front; they have a pain treshold I can`t even comprehend. Mehmet was staying positive, he is in third place. I think he finished almost an hour in front of us around 3:45. He is a compete stud. He is smiling and cracking jokes and it meant the world to me to finish and have him give me the double hug. I found Mehmet online as a Gobi finisher in 2009 and he has taken me under his wing ever since, freely sharing what I need to know, which in turn i have been able to share with others on this campaign. There is a lot of good karma with Mehmet, Louie, the Nabs crew, and out team.
 
Send some words of encouragement to them, they suffered like they never have. David Gibb of JWT is sending an email next to me as I blog. He has completed 10 marathons and simply said "The toughest day running in my life; beyond anything I could have imagined." I didn`t say anything and then he stated the obvious "and still 5 marathons to go."
 
Tomorrow is a new day for us, we learnt a lot from each other as we have nevr run together before as a team. When i was in pain thoughts about tomorrow completely over-whelmed me. You can`t think ahead. Just be in the moment. On that note, I will go and pop a bottle of champagne (need to shed weight from my pack) and have a cigar to celebrate an amazing day with friends. That`s after we pop some nasty blood blisters to let our feet heal.
 
Thanks for the email and words of encouragement.
Carpe diem
Stefan

I looked down from the bus and had the butterflies. Camp is next to Southern Lake the bluest of blues against the sea of sand. A few steps of the bus, i looked down and saw clean threads, inch and a half deep. Sand. Soft. I smiled - as a team we need it nasty to thrive.
 
We are competing against very few teams (4) that includes an incredibly fast team with spectacular runners including marathon times like 2:32. They are Italians, who are sponsored by North Face and Nike, look incredible in their Azzuro shirts and have a camera following them from a film. They are headed by Paolo Barghini who won this event solo two years ago. They are the team to chase and we are grateful to be able to run against them. We had a team meeting to discuss our strategy tomorrow on opening day. We are clear, have a system, and will use numbering language to share our pain level without using feelings type words so we can maintain ourselves in the dark orange range, just shy of red, and avoid the emotional roller coaster teams can go through. David Zietsma shared that insight with me a few months ago; he is one of the forefathers of eco challenges in Canada. We will see! My mates are Ernie Votis and Sophie Collett from the UK. Ernie and I won Atacama as a team with Luigi Santaguida and Sophie won the Gobi while we were there, a team member alongside two British paratroopers.
 
At the airport, right before boarding I talked to Ray Zahab who just called to give encouragement and give some advice. When he talks, you listen; he is Canada`s gift to deserts; the world`s foremost extreme ultra runner - Ray has won all the deserts and ran 111 days from Senegal to the Red Sea, 6800 kms on foot, moving 2 marathons a day. I`ve only got 250 km - how hard can it be.
"It is sandy, soft, but if you look hard you can find the wind packed patches that will be friendlier on the feet. It will feel inefficient but alter your course; a straight line isn`t always the way to go" he said.
 
As I walked down towards camp, I felt so blessed and lucky to be here. I`m injured, heavier than in prior races 184, but it will all work out. We took a picture with my Nabs mates; they are in great spirit, all seem healthy and we had great giggles at dinner last night. Alison Simpson is a trooper, some of her luggage didn`t  make it in. The main thing is we will have an impact for Nabs; $90000 thus far-THANKS!
 
As I type this, Alison, Anne-Marie Tseretopulos and Pat Sullivan are also blogging and we all got excited, a camel just walked by!
 
Let the games begin!

Countdown to the Sahara Race – 2 days to go! Now on sand  loosa in Egypt, this is my last reflection on what I experienced in Israel.

 

The Middle East and North Africa have been an explosive part of the world for 3000 years and I got a chance to advance my understanding of it. 2000 years ago, Jesus was in exile in Egypt after an edict to kill all male babies given the King of the time had been told the messiah you could supplant him had arrived. Today, Israel is erecting a huge wall between the two countries as frictions are rising.

 

My own Christian journey wouldn’t have been complete without the crossing into Palestine to go to Bethlehem and see where it started. Bethlehem borders Jerusalem but is separated by an 8 meter high fence, turrets, barbed wires, graffiti, a no man’s land zone, and many Israeli officers.  Our guide asked a young Arab sitting on his car to take us across and we took the leap. Orderly on one side, the Palestinian side is mayhem. Looking war-torn, safety is in the back of your mind – is this worth it I ask myself. Being in a car is a real sport; the type you experience if driven in a taxi in Napoli. We almost ram into another car, saved by Leslie screaming to our driver seemingly lost in his thoughts.

 

The Nativity Church, Christian’s second holiest site, is also built atop THE grotto; the scene that gets re-enacted at Christmas every year in all Christian churches (and many front yards in Quebec). Inside the grotto, same ritual as in Jerusalem, there is one main cave where Jesus’ birth occurred, with all the other depictions, and a chance to pay your respects! Then the real estate adjacent to it, underground, is sliced up amongst Orthodox and Catholics with their own chronicles of when Jesus was actually born. It is also where the bible was translated from Hebrew to Latin to help the first pope popularize the catholic faith around year 300. I learned that Jerome did the translation (I grew up 10 minutes from the town of St-Jerome in Quebec’s Laurentians and never knew why he was a saint – now the loop is closed). It is also where some of the earliest drawings of Jesus’ life, also helping those hard of hearing or unable to read Latin if in Italy. While pictures are worth a 1000 words, they are however not used by the Jewish faith as it is against the commandments to depict god.

 

I considered going for a run – NOT! This is not the place and we are hoping for a quick return to the border. Later that night, all is not simple in Jerusalem either; wanting to have an authentic Arabic dinner, our cab driver stops cold when we tell him where we want to go. “No, I will not go to that part of town. Not safe. Out!” he said.

 

Earlier in the day, we went to the Western Wall; a remnant of the wall of the Temple Mount built by King Herod and now destroyed, the holiest site in the Jewish faith. It was incredible to be there on Rosh Hashana, a high holiday, and see the huge numbers praying to the wall, 24/7. Again, my Montreal Canadiens cap does the trick and I also partake, swept in the spirituality of the moment, and deposit a prayer of my own into the wall, a custom.  The wall is also referred as the Wailing Wall due to the extraordinarily long 2000 year exile by the Jewish people from their holiest pilgrimage site. Until the 6-day war in 1967 when Israeli soldiers re-took the old city of Jerusalem from the Jordanians, access to the area was blocked or very limited. The timetables are hard to intellectually understand!

 

For the Jewish faith, the Temple Mount hosts the Holy of Holies, the location where Abraham was led following God’s order with the belief that he was to sacrifice his son Isaac. In the end, God offered a better alternative, a ram (we felt compelled to buy a ram horn too). It also is the location of the Temple built by Solomon, and later Herod.  All was destroyed by the Romans, Jews were expelled, and today they pray from the outside wall as it is the closest location possible for worship to the temple. Arab settlers built their homes over the rubble, and recent excavations along the wall, underneath the wall and the homes, showed us more people who were worshipping, 30 feet below. The digs are always expanding yielding more evidence, more history, and more intrigue. As you walk, the wall’s cracks are filled with crunched prayers. In wouldn’t be Jerusalem, and possibly the most disputed religious place on earth if at that exact location where the Temple was now sits the Dome of the Rock, the third holiest site for Muslims after Mecca and Medina where it is believed prophet Mohammed ascended to the heavens. Crusaders seized the Dome, converted it into a church, later to be fought and reclaimed by the Muslims. It is a spectacular gold dome, known and pictured the world over, and no one can enter it besides Muslims.

 

Experiencing  Jerusalem required all my concentration to piece parts of humanity’s history together. At no point in time was I thinking about the fact that the Sahara Race was actually starting in a few days, hopefully a good thing. I would say, without hesitation, especially when adding in the visits to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum, and the Museum of Israel through which we virtually ran, that it was the most provocative and educational three days in my life.

 

Thanks for guiding us Arie! Now it is time to awaken my own warrior and try to conquer the Sahara. Race briefing at 8AM tomorrow!

 

Carpe diem

 

Stefan

 

Along with 8 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details. I have published a book called Gobi Runner. Contact [email protected] for a copy; visit www.stefandanis.com for details.

 

 

Countdown to the Sahara Race – 2 days to go! Life being more complex this time around, I outsourced some of the training to faith instead. 
I took the process seriously; I chose to visit the holy land, spending 3 days in its head quarter, Jerusalem. While I ran around Old Jerusalem in late afternoon, for 8 hours a day with guide Arie (a former intel officer within the Israeli army), we speed walked inside the old walled city, trying to complete the Christian tour.

 

 had seen Da Vinci’s famous painting in Milan 25 years ago when I had first been to Europe, missing graduation; and we headed to Mount Zion is where Jesus had his last supper and the Eucharist was born “Eat my Flesh and Drink my Blood”, a centerpiece of Christianity. There were no tables left and a church was built at the site, a recurring theme: event involving Jesus happened, and 300-400 years later a church is built at that location (typically over a grotto, upon the formal launch of Christianity in Rome. 
The real estate is scarce in Old Jerusalem and many religious beliefs align on the fact it all started there. To one group, Jesus is a prophet, to another a messiah. On Mount Zion, below the floor dedicated to the last Supper, King David who ruled over Israel for 40 years 1000 years BC is said to be buried there. I also visit the area (the Keepa is required for holy Jewish sites; an inclusive approach allows non-Jews to wear any hat. I choose my Montreal Canadiens cap; lord knows they need a miracle too after starting their pre-season 1-4). Years later, the Church is seized by the Muslims and turned into a mosque, and dedicating it to El-Nabi, a great prophet, and also denying access to Jews and Christians for 500 years; until 1948. I leave the site confused, my religious upbringing (I am non-practicing but raised Catholic) colliding with that of others. A sign of things to come; 1 location, 3 floors, 3 faiths, and countless interpretations. 
Jesus knew he was to be betrayed and the next day, Judas-tipped Romans capture him; he was betrayed at the Grotto of Gethsemane, over which the olive trees look 2000 year old; I had never seen trees this old-looking. Church also has been erected, depicting the kiss of Judas. 

 

Fast forward to the site of his condemnation by Ponce Pilatus (now a Madrasah for Islamic students), and eleven other “stations” where you walk down Via Dolorosa to the Golgotha a quarry which served as execution grounds then, which also includes the legends that Adam is buried there. Today on that site is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the cross on the second floor lies the bedrock in plain view; the Church has been built around the exact location of his crucifixion, and death. It is the most sacred Christian place in the world. I have goose bumps although the foot traffic is suffocating, robbing anyone from having a moment to stop to take it in. The difference here is unique; without Arab or Jewish contingents; the church is separated into 6 communities; Roman Catholic, and Greek, Armenian, Copts and Syrian Orthodox in addition to Ethiopian monks who have a chapel on the roof. It is very chaotic as each have their own interpretation, chants, beliefs and it all collides as each faith, seemingly 100 times a day, move around the entrance of a 90 square foot tomb, with their own clergymen and other dignitaries who don’t have to wait in line. Everyone wants to go inside the tomb; if you’ve come this far... 
As we exit the church, it is 19:00 and Maghrib time; the 4^th prayer of the day for Muslims. From the minaret towering over the church, the call to prayer comes. And looking across at Mount Olive, the Jewish people are hoping for their messiah to arrive, whereas Christians believe Jesus ascended from it and also will return to save us. Nothing like seeing to think about believing!

 

Leaving aside the sad state of the history, destruction, war, desecration which I won’t get into, that’s one day in Jerusalem! That is a lot to take in – more than anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m exhausted, exhilarated, inspired, and also with a renewed faith that if so many divergent interests can somehow co-exist, then peace must be possible.   

 

Tomorrow, the Jewish and Arab sides. Unless I actually have to start running the Sahara Race.

 

Carpe diem 
Stefan

 

Along with 8 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details. I have published a book called Gobi Runner. Contact [email protected] for a copy; visit www.stefandanis.com for details.

 

 

A little intense perhaps for a blog but the heroism of the story is too good not to inspire a few words as I count down to the Sahara Race. I visited Masada today and was introduced to a cornerstone of the prideful Jewish history.

 

When I first saw the Masada TV series 30 years ago, the extraordinary story of bravery and honor, I knew I had to see it one day. It was a perfect emotional tonic for what lays ahead.

 

Quick background; Masada was built 2000 years ago by King Herod 1300 feet over the Dead Sea on a plateau sitting atop a seemingly impregnable mountain. Fast forward to year 67 where 1000 rebels are perched in the fortress refusing to submit to Roman invaders who by now control Jerusalem and the rest of what is Israel today. Clever Romans built a rampart using Jewish slaves, thus tormenting the zealots about killing the assailants. It allegedly took 3 years of siege (although Arie, our guide, pointed to flaws in that theory: “It may have been 3 months; I wasn’t there but these roman legions, visible from the top, suggest to scholars that the siege was shorter based on their construction).

 

The slaves end up pushing a tower up the rampart with a battering ram to punch through the wooden gate. After days of fighting, the rebels found themselves defenseless after the main entry was demolished, staring at thousands of legionnaires. The Romans retreated for the night knowing they would conquer it the next day, a long 3 year wait after the start of a siege in the Judean desert, one of the hottest on earth.

 

Then the famous speech, partly found on 2000 year old scrolls, by Ele-azar, who led the zealots:

 

"Let our wives die before they are abused, and our children before they have tasted of slavery, and after we have slain them, let us bestow that glorious benefit upon one another mutually." He ordered that all the Jews' possessions except food be destroyed, for "[the food] will be a testimonial when we are dead that we were not subdued for want of necessities; but that, according to our original resolution, we have preferred death over slavery.”

WOW (ok - it beats Quebec's Plains of Abraham story which I ran through with my family this Summer)! You can see why Hollywood hired main actors and built a great series. According to the Jewish historian Josephus, in the end, 10 men used a lottery to see who would kill each other, with the last man falling upon his sword. Prior, each rebel had killed their wives and children; leaving a 1000 dead in the fortress.

 

Leslie and I intended to see Masada by sunrise, but life got in the way; we ascended as fast as we could, running parts of it up the Snake Path, before the cable car opened but after the sun had risen. We felt quite alive, albeit drenched when we summited. Oddly, since the Dead Sea is the lowest land point on earth, we had merely climbed back to altitude 0 - sea level when we got to the top! “Frequently, the Israeli Air Force will fly below Masada for giggles and therefore fly below sea level” said our guide Arie, himself a tight-lipped 6-day war intelligence veteran. Not so giggly, upon graduation, Israeli Defense Forces ceremonies usually take place at Masada and they chant “Masada shall not fall again!” No doubt they mean it.

 

The ruins are fantastic, and you can truly see how people lived up there, completely self-reliant for years with complex cisterns and brilliant architecture and still intact frescoes with a view to a kill for.

 

It was very moving, and for me, fulfilling a 30 year goal. Clock ticking, it was time to squeeze in one more over the top sensory experience out of our 3 days in the Jerusalem area before leaving for the Sahara Race; we ran down the hill, one eye on the rolling rocks, one on the Dead Sea with views of the Jordanian coast. Our final destination was Bethlehem, the second holiest place for Christians (me), which would involve a worrisome border crossing into Palestine, this time without Arie, our Jewish guide who is barred. “You’re on your own; call when you get to the Nativity Church to let me know you are safe” he said.

 

Sounds a bit like a desert race I thought.

 

Carpe diem

 

Stefan

 

Along with 8 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details. I have published a book called Gobi Runner. Contact [email protected] for a copy; visit www.stefandanis.com for details.

 

 

Countdown to the Sahara Race. 6 days to go! Altitude Training: In this third desert, I tried a few things that failed, and some that worked. 

Due to injuries, it became difficult to push my cardio as faster runs caused unbearable pain which required more rest. After a few cycles of pushing and then resting, I started searching for alternatives. Here’s what I did. 

With the advice of Dr. Pat Graham, at CORE Optimum Health and Performance Centre www.thinkcore.ca, I decided to try a hypoxic machine and train at altitude to get a more demanding cardio workout without pushing my legs any faster. Most endurance athletes do it; and I rented the gear for home use. Options included sleeping in the hypoxic tent (an alternative to being in the doghouse), use the mask while on the treadmill, or simply wear the mask for 90 minutes while working or even watching TV.

The altitude simulator is simple enough, you choose your elevation, press the ON button, start breathing through the apparatus that looks like a scuba diving regulator, and resume your activities (but for the fact you are tethered to a 70 pound machine on wheels). I ended up “living” at 10,000 feet 90 minutes a day over the last month and apparently the benefits stay in your bloodstream for one month after regular altitude training.

The body naturally produces a hormone called EPO (many cyclists have been disqualified from races for having blood transfusions boosting their levels of EPO) which stimulates the production of red blood cells which carry oxygen to the muscles. The more blood cells; the more oxygen delivered to my muscles, and training at altitude essentially accelerates the production of red blood cell.

I used the team at www.Altitudetech.ca for my gear, and fingers crossed, I am hoping that when running at sea level in the Sahara, that my aerobic capacity will have been increased.

The Sahara journey, my third desert, has been the most difficult yet. That causes me to look for other tools to get prepared. Now it is time to rest, heal, and wait for the start.

Carpe diem

Stefan

I have published a book called Gobi Runner. Contact [email protected] for a copy. Along with 8 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

 

 

 

 

Countdown to the Sahara Race. One week to go! Spider taping and vibration plate: In this Desert campaign, I tried a few things that failed, and some that worked.

With serious tendinitis in my Achilles, and prone to shin splints, I am resigned to pain management, and self-healing. In some ways, I am surprised I can run, what is to be seen is how my they will handle the repetitive pounding.

Having seen the kenisio tape on athletes, especially gymnasts, tennis, and soccer players, I discussed its benefits with Dr. Kazemi. We decided to go ahead and I now use it. I use pre-cut spider tech tape that is ready to apply.

http://www.theratape.com/spidertech-precut-calf-and-arch-tape.html

The tape is applied on strained muscles which get reduced blood flow due to their inflammation. The tape itself and the heat it generates essentially sends neural messages to the brain to activate the area, increasing nutrient absorption, blood flow, ultimately speeding up healing.

But the best investment of the campaign was in a vibration plate bought at fitness depot. “You will see extraordinary results; for rehab, maintenance, and strength training” said Dr. Kazemi. He even postulated that the machines are commercially under-developed in North America given our preferred approach to work directly with personal trainers. "In Europe, it seems people own a plate versus work with a trainer". His thoughts were that if I had one at home, I might not need to go to the gym anymore for strength training (which is what I have done this time around). Now, whenever I work out, i try to do it right on the plate. I use it after a run, or if I don’t have the time for a real workout. Feels like cheating! I stand on it for 15 minutes or so and stretch. The plate twitches about 85% of your body’s muscle fiber and flushes lactic acid. I could barely walk first thing in the morning months ago, and that soreness has gone dissipated. Check Dr. K’s book! http://www.sportdoc.biz/images/book.jpg

The Sahara journey, my third desert, has been the most difficult yet. That causes me to look for other tools to get prepared. Now it is time to rest, heal, and wait for the start.

Carpe diem

Stefan

I have published a book called Gobi Runner. Please contact [email protected] for a copy. Along with 8 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

 

Countdown to the Sahara Race. One week to go! Winners & Losers. Fivefinger shoes: In this three-peat project, I tried a few things that failed, and some that worked.

After knee surgery in December, I tried to change (again) my running style. I was willing to do anything to avoid further injury. I learned “Pose” running with Dr. Nicholas Romanov to run differently along with Sahara mates Colin Nanka and Ernie Votis. I adopted it and it worked for me, gravity running, 180 steps a minute and all. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oN1x3Ik1t5Y . Then, I got Vibram Fivefinger shoes and layered in the new change. Filled with hope, and over-anxious, I went hard, and quick. I loved running with the sole-less shoe, perfect especially at the beach and on soft surfaces. As it turned out, I went too hard and too quick, never giving a chance to my foot to learn the new “pose” running style before introducing another variable.

I was back to physio and off my feet. I love what the shoes stand for – allowing for the foot to move more naturally. But the adjustment is massive and I got injured before the bio-mechanics could adapt to the new shoe. The ascent of the fivefinger shoe seems linked to the theory that the typically bloated and cushioned running shoe induces leg injuries by weakening the natural arch of our feet and our feet’s ability to micro-adapt to the terrain the way our ancestors did. Experiment failed; I have returned to the Salomon Trail S Lab with orthotics instead! Thanks Salomon for producing great gear.

And the silver lining as my wife Leslie would say? For prolonged periods, while recovering, I was unable to run. It caused me to take up cycling and I joined the Morning Glory Cycling Club in Toronto where I get a chance to get schooled by 80 other fanatics whenever I go…

The Sahara journey, my third desert, has been the most difficult yet. More pressure at work, richer and full family life, and demanding outside commitments. I started de-layering the latter to make room for Sahara but the strain and fatigue of it all likely induced some of my injuries and setbacks. Now it is time to rest, heal, and wait for the start.

Carpe diem

Stefan

Great news, I have published a book called Gobi Runner. Contact [email protected] for a copy. Along with 8 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

 

Daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up very early 21 days in a row to run (or walk) every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 12 sunrises down, 9 to go!

 Seems the habit is anchored now, but for the fact I go to bed at the same time… I wake up a few minutes prior to the buzzer to avoid waking up the crew. The dog spies my whereabouts and positions himself against the door quickly; impossible to leave without him. He’s a runner!

We all have our memories of this fateful 9/11 day; we were in France returning to Paris after a wedding in the Cote d’Azur. It was mid-afternoon and we stopped the car to film low flying Mirage jets. The government was reassuring its citizens of safety and of their readiness for battle. But we had no idea of what had happened until we got to our hotel. Panicked, we tried to get through to our friend Tracy who worked at Merril, adjacent to the twin towers.  It was frightening; later we would find out she was OK. All flights back cancelled, we thought WW 3 was about to start and we headed up to Normandy to ground ourselves, visiting the American Cemetery in Colleville, next to Omaha and Utah Beaches, and Juno Beach, the proud site of the Canadian landing. While we were at the American Cemetery, people were sailing and screaming at the top of their lungs having a grand time. It was the perfect juxtaposition and brought in focus what we started to accomplish on D Day; reclaiming freedom. These few days in Normandy are etched forever in my mind as is 9/11. Oddly, I also remember being offended by our federal government’s reaction to not supporting the American reaction (turned out to be a good call based on the Iraq target) and buying a billboard which advertised “To our friends, Neighbours, and Allies. We stand behind you.” To everyone who has suffered, endured pain and lost loved ones, my thoughts are with you.

If I can think of one good thing that I have witnessed coming out of 9/11, it is the rise in activism and philanthropy. It seems that as a collective, we carve out more time to do our share for the community. I have witnessed so many people give back, in fact so many choosing the NFP sector as a career, partly a result of the traumatic impact of 9/11.

We ran close to 17 km to the Leslie spit today and we were blessed to see a beautiful skyline. NIce shot of HtO Park in Toronto. We are lucky to be Canadian.  As we head for Egypt to race, we hope to be safe too. 

Carpe diem

Stef

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

 

 

Daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up early 21 days in a row to run (or walk) every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 8 sunrises down, 13 to go!

 

 

21 days of very early risings doesn’t seem like much but it is complex adjustment nonetheless. A key reward for me would have been to see the sun rise. Would I have signed up had I known there wouldn’t be one at all? 21 days and no sun rises amplifies the difficulty of the transformation I am trying to effect.

 

 

Change is challenging. I had asked my Gobi coach Donna how she managed to run the Gobi given she also was not a runner prior. She simply said “I did it one step at a time.” She advised never to think about the enormity of it all. Think about the day. If it were too much, just until the next 10 km checkpoint. Too much? Ten minutes. Or five. If not, the next flag. And when there is nothing left, just one more step.

 

 

Right now, I am a third of the way into my 21 day plan and the lack of sunshine is affecting me more than the waking up early part. I hadn’t anticipated that. While I don’t even want to think that there won’t be another sunrise to see for the next two weeks, if so, I will have to look back to the first two days where there was one to see and cherish them. And when the next one shows up, I will savor the moment more deeply.

 

 

Did you know Toronto has a beach at the bottom of Lower Jarvis? Having pink umbrellas downtown brings a bit of a grin even with stormy grey skies in the background.

 

 

Carpe diem

 

 

Stef

 

 

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

 

 

 

Daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up early 21 days in a row to run (or walk) every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 7 sunrises down, 14 to go!

 

After the sunniest summer on record, I thought it would be a simple routine to get up early and see the sunrise. I even committed to a picture. As soon as I signed up to do this, it disappeared! For the fourth day in a row, while running early morning with the dog, this time on the waterfront, I took a picture of Toronto under siege by low cloud cover, accompanied by a stiff breeze and low temperatures. The treadmill at home almost looked more inviting.

 

While happy to have completed my second highest mileage week, my legs are happier. The scheduled visit to the chiropractor was needed to roll, and laser the Achilles. Nancy Olmsted , a physiotherapist shared that an hour doing yoga replaced a visit to a therapist. Sadly, I seem to get injured before the yoga does its work but I will stay on a 3x yoga/week schedule until the race starts to try to remedy.

 

Never having been a stretcher, yoga gives me that gift. But too often, competing with other Sahara activities, I don't get to it - it never seems urgent enough. It now is. Alas, since I only started doing it last week, I am in various degrees of soreness as I have been stressing my body daily without providing enough recovery time. I walk like a penguin but don't look imperial.

If there ever was a visual for me to see what happens to your body’s tissue when you over-stress it, I have now seen it. The fuzz speech on You Tube was recommended by our yoga instructor; and it too has the potential of turning a non-habitual stretcher into one. Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FtSP-tkSug

 

It is the final stretch for Sahara Race participants but there is still time to get rid of the fuzz. As I do, I also await the sunrise. And I likely will walk tomorrow as opposed to run.

 

Carpe diem

 

Stef

 

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

Daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up early 21 days in a row to run 10 km + every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 6 sunrises down, 15 to go!

 

For the third day in a row, while running early morning with the dog, there was no real sunrise to be had. Robbed! Of course, that won't be a problem in the Sahara!

I am running 25 km today to finish off my 100 km + peak week and was scanning for something to amuse myself surrounded by the grey sky. I ran next to the massive home seen from May’s Wharf on Lake Simcoe with colossal chimneys. The story which I never validated (better story if kept that way) is that European chimney builders erected them while the owner was away, and that there was a slight misunderstanding. They constructed them in meters, not feet! You can just imagine what they look like – minarets having the ability to make a huge home look disproportionate. The owner must have felt robbed too!

 

On the concept of feeling robbed, our house is divided today. This is our children’s last day at the cottage. When they wake up, they will grudgingly start the packing process prior to heading to the city; they have been at the cottage or camp since June 25. Over the last week, we started re-introducing a math book to awaken their resting minds... That’s when they started feeling robbed, and today tears will follow. Flipside, my wife Leslie and most parents are yearning for a return to school with a normalized schedule, more predictable routine, and bedtimes. While kids feel robbed, for parents, the school year provides access to more organized freedom.

 

Residing with us since Sept 1 is Maartje, a young Dutch woman and daughter of a friend, who secured an internship in Toronto for 3 months prior to returning to graduate school. I whisked her away to the cottage when she landed and she has yet to see Toronto. She is excited to start her internship tomorrow, and I presume anxious also. For me, Labor Day is when clients seem to awaken and business gets moving again.

 

Labor Day provides that annual opposite inflection point for kids and parents, school and business, free and programmed time. A new season, we cement that watershed moment at the cottage by taking an annual picture with 3 other neighboring families that we adore, the Vogel, Vamvakas, and Canavans. For Sahara Race participants, the last chance to put in a bit of mileage, run around to complete their equipment list. And since the long weekend stole the sun away, I hope for the remainder of September to give back some stunning sunrises.

 

Carpe diem

 

Stef

 

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

Daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up early 21 days in a row to run 10 km + every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 5 sunrises down, 16 to go! 
In event like the Sahara Race challenges each participant with their relative need to control their training. Some components fall in what you know and can be mastered with time, research, and self-awareness; Distance: High mileage weeks, recovery weeks, rest days; Diet: Energy foods, proteins, carbs, and how much and when to have which. What to eat while running and recovering, and what food to bring; relative weight to caloric output; etc. As the mileage creeps up, stretching becomes even more important; should one do yoga and if so what type and how frequently. How much cross training should one do to build their core; an hour playing tennis, walking a golf course with a 15 pound bag, swimming laps to offer a break to your feet, or hill repeats on a bike to build cardio and save your knees? What about weight training versus interval. How many coaches or mentors should one consult? 

The complexity of the preparation requires an algorithm, confronting time management skills of how much family, work, and social time versus training time. One can invest as much or little, assessing their own risk/return requirements, and even if there is enough time, deciding how to deploy it is very challenging, the choice of one activity being at the expense of another.

In my Gobi and Atacama campaigns, I found a couple of mentors and basically executed a version of their playbook with my own creative elements such as working standing to build leg strength to make up for less training. I also ran late at night as to never train during family time. I reduced the “social” side and replaced it with training. Regardless, I never felt prepared. Besides the professionals who show up to race, anyone else with a job will feel threatened by the fact that they will never have felt adequately prepared. And that, they will have to give up and be confident that whatever they did was the best they could do and that they are prepared. Failing to do so leaves the door open to self-doubt which will be crippling in the desert when adversity hits in a way that couldn’t be foreseen.

Letting go is a key aspect of the preparation. I had to let go of the sunrise this morning, it was pouring rain...

Carpe diem

Stef

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

 

Daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up early 21 days in a row to run 10 km + every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 4 sunrises down, 17 to go!

When you sign up to a multi-day run the desert, there is a leap of faith involved as the training is never formulaic like for a marathon where following the standard 16 week program produces results predictably. You have to listen to your elders and then build a program that works for your circumstances. But regardless of your objective, all multi day ultra-runners need to believe they can run the distance in their minds; despite the fact that no one will run it during training given it would require too much time and recovery time. 

I circled a couple of weeks on the calendar months prior, and hoped to be able to run repetitive days to push through to a new high on total km, to re-acquaint myself with fatigue, injuries, soreness, and boredom. Peak week as it is called is best done 4-6 weeks prior to the event to allow for a taper. I am halfway through mine, 60 km in 4 days, targeting to exceed 100 km in 7 days, hopefully 120 km.

The key this close to the event is to avoid injury, meaning running safely. I’ve taken a page from my team mate Ernie Votis which is to achieve the bigger days halving the big distance  days in two outings. This week, I am running 3 or 4 half marathons, spread in an early morning outing and a late night one. Although I require more clothes, more stretching, and more showering in this sweltering heat, recovery is easier, and risks of injury are lessened.

The 21 sunrises program is being followed; this morning, the sunrise was cloud covered until a breach taken from the Willow bridge.

Carpe diem

Stef

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

 

 

 Daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up early 21 days in a row to run 10 km + every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 3 sunrises down, 18 to go before the habit magically hardens… 

Sometimes, things come easily and life feels like you have the wind at your back, and at other times, you have to push through a big headwind to get things done. While you get to know your body’s rhythms, it is odd to find yourself running fast effortlessly on some days and trudging through the next. Since I don’t have time to isolate all the variables to optimize my training, I have gone in the other direction where I live, eat, drink fully and don’t worry about how I will feel the next day.  Well, the headwind was in fact the previous night of indulgences; we hosted 20 people at the cottage, and with a few occasions to celebrate I had too much of everything. I was alone running the last batch of dishes well into the night to avoid waking up to the mess; and I started to let my mind waver - just a few hours before waking up to go running. Was my 21 sunrise experiment going to come to an end on Day 3? The proposition seemed tempting – I could forgive myself and start my 21 day program again the next day. 

Not so fast!  Aleve had been my main companion lately, but Advil seemed a better choice to neutralize the previous night... Before going to bed I set up the routine to easily induce running; java, shoes, socks, shirt, shorts, headlight, body glide, phone, camera, GPS, backpack, and dog all perfectly waiting in that order. 

Feeling like crap was my first small test within my 21 day program, also aimed at exercising my adversity quotient to build resilience as I do my final push towards the Sahara. In training, I found that holding doing the training senior to how I felt about it was critical in filling up my resilience tank. Those kinds of feelings, I found out, weren’t that helpful in the Gobi and Atacama. The knowledge that you will follow through on your commitment even though your body and mind is saying NO is the surest way to not beat yourself and thrive in the desert. Most competitors will show up well prepared physically; it is the mental that will see them through the finish line when real adversity strikes. For me, stacking small simple victories like choosing to go for a run with a headlight on before the sunrise with a pounding headache is a small perfect step towards growing the resilience roots I will need in a month. 

I know that when I don’t want to go running is exactly the time I need to put the shoes on as it replicates the conditions I will face in the desert on day 3 when I will limp to the start line to run another marathon. 

A beautiful sunrise on Lake Simcoe although the run this morning was my worst yet. The sweat magnified how much fun I had the night before. No regrets, part of running the desert means I can indulge at a moment’s notice and know I will drip it within 24 hours. 
Carpe diem 
Stef 
Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

 

 

 

Countdown to the Sahara and daily musings on my quest to become an early riser after 30 nocturnal years. I am waking up early 21 days in a row to run 10 km + every morning and photograph the sunrise, wherever I am. 2 sunrises down, 19 to go!

 

Being on holiday provides more control and is helpful to get momentum; by the time life goes back to normal on Sept 7, I will have had 7 early rises and be a third of the way there. However, when making room for a new habit, another one has to be dropped. There is always a cost associated with a choice.

 

For the last 11 years, every summer weekend or holiday, I play speed golf at 7am for 9 holes for 90 minutes, with the neighbours before the kids are up. Within the foursome, there is a match play pitting Elias Vamvakas (6 handicap) and I (twice that on a good day)) in a cruel mind game we have repeated 100+ times which typically ends on the 9^th hole with a heroic or a brain dead shot. The prize? We keep track of wins/losses and award a 4 foot tall trophy to the overall champ on the last day of summer – the Simcoe Claret jug. Never satiated, we do the same playing tennis later in the day.

 

Choosing 21 sunrises meant I missed this traditional morning bantering, and instead grudgingly got up much earlier to handle the running business, trying to cram in some safe mileage before tapering down to be healthy for the Sahara Race. This week was circled months ago as the last big week; 100+ km of running including 3 half marathons, 4 days of yoga to make up for the running, 3 days of cross fit, 2 days of physio, and countless bags of ice on my Achilles.

 

Leslie and Coco the dog joined me for a run alongside the lake with many beach stretches to remind the feet of the shifting sand. With 20 pounds on my back, I am moving at 10 km/hour, about 25% slower than free pace.

 

Time to raise and ice the feet.

 

Carpe diem

 

Stef

 

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.

 

I’ve tried it before and it didn’t work. I shrugged and accepted it just wasn’t me. But another day is another opportunity; might as well… I used to think if I could do this life would be better but I have since found out that research in fact suggests the opposite! Despite the research, I want to expand my quiver and have it as a tool and finally not ever have to say “I hate waking up early”. The habit I’m going to create is to be an early riser. Being nocturnal for 30 years has had its benefits being at my best from 10pm to 1am. Time to let it go.

 I was confronted in the Gobi and the Atacama races dreading the mornings; being the last one to go to bed and the last one to rise, I rushed myself every morning, frustrated and made some mental errors, not being alert enough.

 

I want to turn early mornings into a blissful event. Will it be possible to change a deeply anchored 30 year pattern? I want to acquaint myself sun rises and let go of the midnight bell.

Since 21 days make a new habit, that will be the strategy. And since I am leaving for the Sahara in 24 days, might as well anchor the habit prior as we will be running earlier than normal to beat the average 40 degree heat. Sahara is the hottest of the deserts races I have entered although we had two 45-50 days in the Gobi.

My reward will be 21 days of running in a row while watching the sunrise (now 20 to go…), and the blog will be my accountability partner. Possibly others will join in for an early run too. Winning tactics Day 1 included being in bed prior to midnight, having the java already set up for morning, and the running clothes properly arranged efficiently (no I didn’t sleep with the shoes on). I welcome all ideas on changing deeply ingrained habits!

I resisted the blackberry alarm, knowing I was starting a process that would last me at least 21 days, possibly a lifetime. But soon enough, doing what you said you were going to do trumped the pleasure of indulging in bed. And 6:28 sunrise was beautiful. I ran the beach and scenic Lake Drive on Lake Simcoe’s south shore (yes – I’m on holidays) with the dog off leash which was great (a major negative development for the local duck, squirrel, and seagull communities harboring there).

Thanks to Alison Simpson who inspired me by running early herself yesterday and posting her own sunrise!

Carpe diem,Stef 

Along with 8 others in Toronto, we are running the 250 km Sahara Race Oct 2-9 raising $100,000 for Nabs. Please visit www.running4nabs.com and help us get to our objective. Thanks for your support. This is my daily mini blog, part of my one month countdown to the Sahara Race.  

 

Sahara Blog #6 by Stefan Danis
May 19, 2011

 

 

When opportunity knocks, take it!

My desert running mate Ernie Votis always says "whenever an opportunity presents itself, take it, you never know when they return". I was in France. I had my bike. So I drove 600km just to ride up Alpe d'Huez, the world's most famous bike climb, a mecca for cyclists and a perfect cross training option for the Sahara Race.

"Hi" said Jan as he pedalled by after turn 14, meaning 14 turns to go to the top. "Nice bike!" I responded pointing to his Canadian made Cervelo. I accelerated to get on his wheel. "So, can you stand up like this most of the way?" I asked. "I only do it whenever someone is in front of me that I feel I can pass" said Jan. "Hmmm" I thought. "So at this pace how long does it take you to get to the top?" I asked. "It will take me about 70 minutes this time". "What do you mean this time?" I probed. "First thing this morning, I was 59 minutes, the second time 61. I'm feeling the pain on the third climb but I don't want my team mates to catch me so I must go now." He was preparing for a famous race held here where riders have to climb 6 times in a day to raise money for cancer. Jan was now gone; alone again. I had climbed about 2,000 feet and had a 1,000+ to go now, already at 10,000 feet of altitude.

 

 

 

A contingent of 8 proud blue and green outfitted Dutch team members were closing in. "Holland is very flat" said Theo. "We come here to train" said Anja. "This must feel like home for you?" asked another pointing to my Louis Garneau maple leaf adorned jersey. “It is home for us – more Dutch riders have won this Tour de France stage than from any other country”.

 

 

 

A month prior I had dinner with Louis and his family when he was inducted in the Canadian Marketing Hall of Legends www.marketinghalloflegends.ca He shared stories about his personal struggles with Canada's absence to the Moscow 80 Olympics having made the team, and his training for the 84 LA Games in which he raced. He also mentioned that Steve Bauer who won a silver in LA and a 4th at the TdF "always showed up for practice having already practiced; he who suffers more typically win. Steve was willing to suffer more than us". Seems the Dutch people were willing to!

 

 

 

"No real hills in Toronto guys" I said. "See you up there for a beer" a woman said. "Ok" as I tried to stay with them realizing I was already in my heart's red zone. I got left behind again.

"Pace yourself" I thought. I was alone again until the next turn. There was some carnage at the bends mostly; someone was down panting, sitting down, or barely moving up the steep hill. Each of the rising 21 bends slice the mountain for 13.8km akin to a pyramidal layered cake and are named after an Alpe d'Huez stage winner. The climb averages a gradient of 8%. For an amazing aerial view, take a look at this picture http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Lacets_AlpedHuez.jpg

 

 

 

When I crossed the start line, it was to convert a dream into possible reality; embracing the unknown, very much out of my comfort zone. Anything could happen; unbearable leg pain, too high a heart rate, a puncture, or an unexpected snow storm. I took 4:20 minutes to get to the first bend (turn 21) a nasty 10 degree incline (named Lance Armstrong and Fausto Coppi) and realized I was going to blow up at that speed. Tackling on the unknown and challenging oneself invites your mind to actively converse with you as you start suffering beyond prior pain thresholds and with only an hypothetical map of how long and bad it will actually get. From prior desert running learning, I engaged my mind in being grateful, playful, and positive. "Lucky to be here"; "love the new sensation of pain"; "beautiful vistas"; "here by choice"; "I love my family"; “oh steeper – I love it” and access some form of mind control. What stuck was how grateful I was to have had a great uncle in my life.

 

 

 

Five years ago my dad passed of a heart failure and shortly thereafter my uncle was dealing with his own heart issues. Uncle Keith is my mentor; a CEO who built a great company and gave a helping hand to all family members with a job, of which I was a benefactor. He always provided encouragement and support while being a beacon of health and competitive at that; he whooped me on the golf course, squash court, or any other game for that matter. Later in life, he had gotten very involved in cycling and with his DNA, had taken his commitment to a level few could aspire to. After having a bypass I told him that we would do Alpe d'Huez together as a means of having a focused objective and reward, post rehab as we both loved watching the TdF. Unexpectedly, he needed a heart valve and the valve caused unpredictable heart palpitation at times. It meant he couldn't do it. He would never get to climb it.

"Opportunity knocks, take it". I was climbing thinking out Keith; few could have enjoyed this more.

At turn 10 (Greg Lemond’s) and halfway up, my chrono displayed 39 minutes. Marco Pantani holds the climb record of 38 minutes. A convicted doper; he died of heart failure. Earlier in the day, I had left my car in Bourg d'Oisan the pretty village at the bottom of the climb, and gateway to other famous Alpe climbs. I went to the Tourism Office to get an electronic time chip. Alpe d’Huez is the climbing cyclist mecca; and pilgrims want their time authenticated to compare against others which the chip allows you to do. Alas the chip program wasn't operational until mid-Spring. Every bend, I was doing calculations to extrapolate a likely finish time; I had settled on 3 goals: Bronze - Finish; Silver - Never stop; and Gold - Be half as fast as world’s fastest - Pantani -  at about 1:16.

 

 

 

 
It seemed like it was a possibility halfway up if everything went perfectly. Then on turn 6 (Miguel Indurain) struggling, I retrieved a can of coke from my pouch to get the sugar boost. I started pushing, heart settling at 180 for the next 25 minutes. Temperature was dropping fast every turn, but with every turn, one fewer to the top. At that moment, I felt I had an out of body experience and got a lift from the cycling giants looking down at you and willing you up the hill; Armstrong, Ullrich, Indurain, Sastre, Fignon, Delgado.

 

 

 

Turn 3 torrential rain came down. There was no one out anymore. During the TdF an estimated one million camp on the mountain screaming, heckling, touching, and cheering the riders; in 2004 Armstrong reported fans spat on him as he fought Jan Ullrich to the top. I was now being spat on; it was hailing on turn 2!

For great trivia about Alpe d’Huez, from the fastest times, previous winners, doping scandals, please click here. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpe_d'Huez. For example, climbing times of late have gotten slower, speculation being the drugs aren't as prevalent. Last to win, Frank Schleck, was above the 40 minute mark, a return to pre drug filled (EPO) 1990’s times.

Being pelted with hail, I got to the town and there was a hundred or so drinking either coffee to warm up or beer. For me it was magical to get up there and I got emotional in the last 300 hundred meters, sprinting with all I had. I clocked in at 1:17; oh so close!

I took it in and disappeared in the only store open, filled with gratefulness and willing to spend money on everyone who heldped to get me up there such as my uncle Keith, John Southcott who lent me gear, or Eon d'Ornellas, 4 time Olympian who packed my bike and patiently offered advice while and shared  stories about the old days training in France with the French  cycling mega stars like Bernard Hineault, and Jacque Anquetil (my first road bike as a kid was a Jacques Anquetil). The shop owner asked how breezy the top was. I pointed outside "Miserable!" I said. "Did you stop here?" she asked. "Yes, that's where everyone is!" I said defensively. "Mais non! Il y a encore 1.5km pour le sommet!" she said. I sat down for 5 minutes shaking my head (just enough timefor my body to stiffen and seize up); I had had a brain cramp, stopped short of the summit and still 3-4 minutes to go likely. I went next door and had a coffee to warm myself up. Then a beer with the Dutch riders.

A picture of my mom wagging her finger came to mind "finish what you start" she would say, and I stepped back out in the rain storm, got on my bike to finish business. It was anticlimactic to get to the top and my time was "1:21". "Oh well, c'est la vie!" I thought. Sometimes when emotional and exhausted, things go off target a bit. I still climbed it; in a modified version.

The weather was horrible. All riders took a bus down but I rode it from top to bottom and enjoyed the cold rain shivering. On the drive back to Grenoble, I was elated to have driven 12 hours return for a 1:21 memorable moment. It felt so good I decided I should do the other cols; I may never be here again!

Carpe diem

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stefan

 

 

 

 

 

 

Along with 9 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details. We need your support!

 

 

 

Blog #5 by Stefan Danis

In June 2009, on the plane returning from Beijing after completing my first desert foot race in the Gobi, I compiled a long bucket list. I organized it in various categories (things to learn, do, see, or try), attached a target date, and a person (s) (spouse, family, solo, or friends) with whom to share it. 

Fun topic as a basis for conversation; as I shared some of the items, almost every time the reply back was let’s do it! This is where the power of community is at its best; with 2 or more people comes momentum, organization, and it…happens! I never thought it would have been possible to run the Sahara Race with 10 colleagues from Toronto, but...

Case in point, earlier this year I skied in Alaska with 7 friends; it got ignited with a bucket list conversation – bingo! What sweetened the Alaska experience was to be led by world extreme ski champion Dean Cummings on the last day of the trip. For heroic (and insane) footage on Dean, features last week in Powder Magazine, click the link this http://www.powdermag.com/mantle/video-dean-cummings-first-descent-of-chugachs-tusk/  Co-traveler Evan Siddall captured it best “This is why Dean is the best ski guide alive today: balls AND brains enough to be safe. My two BEST ski days ever were skiing with Dean in Valdez in April.”

Now, I just completed another bucket; a few days cycling in France (yes, another form of regal cross training for the Sahara). The Loire valley location wasn’t my first pick, but my organizing friend was passionate about it; and a mixture of his commitment and attention to detail produced a once in a lifetime experience; much safer than Alaska if one feels cycling and wine is safe. It became quickly obvious why France’s kings and royals chose the Loire to erect 300 massive chateaux; proximity to Paris, wooded areas to hunt game, fertile soil to produce wine, abundant limestone to build castles, and the Loire to ferry it all around. I could describe it but pictures are worth a 1,000 words:

 http://www.google.ca/search?q=chateaux+de+la+loire&hl=en&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&rlz=1I7GGLS_en&prmd=ivns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=qBDPTZ2cEYaahQfItuz1DA&ved=0CDAQsAQ&biw=1259&bih=587

The region is now a bike path wonder linking picture perfect medieval villages, each with a competing towering church and a floral and beautication strategy to win the national designation equivalent of a Michelin 3 star. The region’s accessibility brings in tourism coming for the views, history and the amazing French cuisine, which yielded us net weight gain. You can bike all you want; foie gras and wine is lethal on the mid-section. You don't notice it with the bike shorts on, just later. 

The trip yielded another gift; it re-introduced me to road biking, an activity I had not done since I was 16 that can effectively complement running, giving a welcomed break to me knees! “Biking is inevitably what happens to runners (as they get injured); welcome to your future Stefan” shared my friend JF Courville. I have been a mountain biking enthusiast for 15 years; Toronto’s single track terrain in the Don Valley being one of the top 20 reasons why I love living in Toronto. I get to enjoy our world class terrain once a week with my kids or my long time riding buddies. From time to time, we have a chance to introduce someone to the Don trails and its impact is immediate; “why didn’t I know about this!” they always say. Bonus, **** happens in the trail - I met my wife covered in mud there.

But road riding is a different sport. In the Fall 2010; when the trip was agreed upon, the first shock was the sticker to get into the sport. Ouch! Add in gear and you need a second mortgage. But what a joy to be able to transmit this much power to your wheels so effortlessly; it was like learning a new sport. The second shock was to go out with www.lesdomestiques.com and riding in a peloton formation at 30-40km/hr for 90km on my first road ride in 30 years. It was exhilarating; I also gasped for air, was sore for days, and got spooked riding this fast in a herd 18 inches away from the wheel in front. Not only do Les Domestiques serve their community with fund raising efforts; they also look after their weak ones; when I got detached, one would come back for me and I’d get in their slipstream to try to re-catch the peloton. I learned quickly that my role was to cheer from behind but stay close to get the 20-30% efficiency that comes from drafting. After going out solo with my friend Allan Kliger, I humbly realized I had a long way to go; and last I heard was “young buck, race you to the top of Bayview extension?” and he was gone. With failure came the leverage to figure this out.

Snow arrived early and the bike was put away. Knee surgery followed and instructions were not to run and instead ride the recumbent bike and spin. With 3 weeks to go to my bike trip, I was assessed by Scott Judges, a professional bike fitter who basically changed everything about how I rode, using video and laser technology to compare form before and after his wise counsel. With a new spine position, higher cadence, fuller pedaling stroke, and new custom gear for my hip and shoulder width, and torso length, I headed for riding hill repeats to quickly bike condition my legs. I admit that riding from the bottom of Glendon College to the top of Post road 5 to 10 times in a row was a complete bore. But my thighs did scream. Regardless of when i went, rarely was I alone doing this mind numbing up and down loop; I found out it was a common place to train for weekend warriors seeking an edge on their buddies.

Riding in France produced a chance to learn about the royal intrigues, abundant local wines and cheeses, and basic etiquette when faced with a Chinese or Japanese bus tour. A perfect family or couple's trip. As a bunch of aging spouseless men, we focused on learning to ride together as a pace line; trust each other and communicating at high speed, alternating who would lead, and watching for hand movement to point to objects on the road. We covered beautiful grounds, and pushed ourselves to and within our limits with the rewards of hard work while at the same time pinching ourselves constantly with “wow is this ever beautiful moments htat came every 10 minutes.” Putting in the KM’s, I honed in on my technique to lock in new habits and at times, felt I was one with the bike the way a kid does when they first learn. Oddly, i also enjoyed the meditative sound of a fast spinning wheel.

Bucket list crossed off, my buddies left for TO. 

Since I had to remain in Europe for work and I had my bike; I rented a car and drove for 5 hours to Grenoble for an appointment I’ve been dreaming about for 15 years.

After struggling to ride with Les Domestiques and my friend Allan; and having lost a step trying to keep up to some of my mountain biking buddies, I wanted to assess my progress and see if I could awaken my inner warrior for the Sahara Race. Every July, I watch the highlights of the Tour de France and the punishing drama that comes with ascending Alpe d’Huez. For high octane footage; check this out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHJErrp4eOw. 

Life is more fun with our little obsessions and pet projects. 
What’s on your bucket list?

 

Carpe diem,

Stefan

Along with 9 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details. We need your support!

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Chris, this is a bit tight up here for a landing. Looks like a 9x9 postage stamp?” I asked. “Yes, it’s real; welcome to Snow Cone” said Chris Shelly our H2O Heli Guide for the day. “OK, listen to me guys. Put your gear on and stack together. I’m going to cut the top here to check for stability, check for layers, and cut through to see if it releases an avalanche. This is going to start at 45+ degrees and get in the mid 50’s for 1,500 feet. We need to do this one at a time. Go anywhere you want; use the rocks on skier’s left as the line not to cross. Does everyone understand me? Avoid the far left. Clear? Make your way to the bottom. Don’t stay in this face; get to the bottom and exit to a safe zone. Don’t stop. Check for your sluff; if the snow is sliding down as fast as you are, turn left or right and get out of it, skiing 45 degree sideways. Stop under a rock. I will go last as you each go down. OK, who is going down first?” “Not me” I said to myself. The silence was deafening.  

 

I wanted to jump in but I looked down and stared at my skis and said nothing. I needed the comfort in seeing someone else disappear into it. Pete wasn’t fond of taking the lead but he went in, reluctantly. About 4 minutes later he tumbled. I could see the chopper at the bottom already waiting for us. In time, Pete found his gear and was able to get himself to the bottom. “Next” said Chris. I jumped in and tried to find a rhythm in a sustained 3 feet of powder at an angle I’d never skied before with a river of snow moving along with me with every turn. These were my first real ski turns of 2011; and couldn’t quite find a groove; trying to regulate each knee compression with some breathing to slow things down. About 60 turns in I popped out of the snow with only with one ski. “Darn” I thought, and went for my first Alaskan tumble.

A prefect day; blue skies, no wind, on our way to likely have the best day of our skiing lives, deep into the Chugach. We were the second group of two; from the air I could see Ev, George, and Jeff coming down a 1,500 foot face or ramp (Snow Cone); one of the steepest I’d ever seen. My heart rate leaped. That’s why I had come all the way here with seven friends; to find something we couldn’t find in the interior B.C. Their group was led by Dan Cummings, former world extreme ski champion, now owner of H2O Heli Guides in Valdez. I had hoped to ski with him but it hadn’t turned out that way on that day; I just had to be at peace with it. Chris was our guide and I was about to call on him.

 

“Chris, I need help” I screamed up, as surface snow looking like ball bearings was rolling down (known as sluff). I was in a different time zone than my ski; and I dispensed with safety and decided to crank up my DINs; upside was to minimize losing a ski; downside is little chance of ski release if you tumble – the impact on your leg instead.

 

Run #1 had not been elegant but I locked the confidence I needed to go all out.  The topography and immenseness of it all was unlike anything I had ever seen; from above countless valleys of perfectly groomed glacier bordered by rows of jagged peaks. We would land the bird on a cliff requiring a disciplined exit; the nose of the bird at times hovering over a 2,000 foot drop on one side; the tail over our run; either of a chute, couloir, wall, or ramp. H2O has more than 3,000 landing spots, and likely as many runs. Following Snow Cone, our runs included Forest Service, Chicks Flix, and Pandora’s Box; each with 3,000-5,000 vertical runs all the way to the valley floor with the assortment of steeps, powder fields. “If you see anything that sags, it is likely a crevasse. Stay away; you could fall in a hundred feet deep. That’s why you have a harness on – to be pulled out.” said Chris. On Pandora’s we skied on bridges, between crevasses. Chris asks “best day ever?” “Not yet” I respond “but it could be!” We then land at McCabe’s. “Avalanche” said Dean over the radio. “Level 2” said Chris; “there are 5 levels and a 2 kills and will bury a car.” We were about to go down and our mates 500 feet away had launched it, courtesy of Evan planting his skis backward. “Dean was below me and was able to ski out” said Evan. On our side, 3 very loud ‘bangs’ in a row as we watch 3 avalanches come down on the rocky outcroppings to our left over a span of 5 minutes. Tension grows and a couple of us get really spooked; we regroup to pick a line where we can descend more safely. More come down as we eat our lunch at the bottom; I’ve never heard an avalanche before, let alone see 5!

 

“This looks good” says Chris “let’s try it”. A perfect rewarding nameless 2,000 foot run where we stop to do some video work until the batteries of all my gear is emptied. “Where to from here Chris?” I ask, “I don’t know; I’ve never skied here before” says Chris nonchalantly. “Hmmm” we collectively think – I guess we never asked him if he had on the other ones. “The terrain is so vast here that with 3,000 drops, it may be years before you ski the same one again. There is a lot I haven’t skied and it is the beauty of your package; you point to it and we go. My job is to get you down safely.” We feel privileged – first for Chris and us and we go back up; as we land, Chris points to a narrow couloir the next peak over called Black Dog where Dean is with his group.

 

Recounts Jeff Parr in the group “after standing above our guide and watching him ski out of the top of a level 2 avalanche and then skiing down the slide path and beautiful powder beside the path, our group was a little unnerved. Dean, mentioned he was “humbled” by that experience. That was not how I would describe how we were feeling… After regrouping at the bottom, Dean takes us to a run that has only been skied once before, Black Dog Couloir, a 2,500 funnel 50-60 degree run. Talk about getting back on the horse after being bucked. The intense focus we all had on this run and then successfully navigating the pitch quickly moved us past the avalanche to enjoy the rest of a fantastic day of steeps and deeps in the sun.” From our vantage point, they look like little ants who seem to be in trouble. So we wish them well and call in the chopper to squeeze in more vertical while they pick their way down their run. “Best day yet?” Chris asks. “Nah, I think you can show us a bit more Chris. Close though” I respond. “We need to stay around to pick them up” he says and we manage to do the nameless run twice more. The next day, a little badge for us all to remember: “Guys, we will officially call this run “Molson Ice” in your Canuck honor.”  There we have it; our own run. We finish the day on Sharpies, a 5,000 foot drop and ski it full throttle top to bottom and finish our 40,000 foot, 12 run day in a demanding couloir also called McCabe.

 

The ride back is scenic, high five’s and big grins abound. It was a long wait and we know there is a storm coming; we are at risk of not skiing again. “Best day yet?” asks Chris. “Yes in many ways!” All of us agree; we have seen better, deeper, fluffier snow, or tree runs with obstacles; but nothing as beautiful and expansive above the tree line, and certainly nothing meaner and steeper where you can go for 5,000 feet + on pitch with avalanche, sluff, crevasses, and other types of challenges. The runs are so long you can jam in 250+ deep powder thigh burning turns in a row. It delivers that out of body experience where you can watch yourself and self-correct your technique, and do it all over again.

 

Today, 6 inches per hour of snow are falling and we are grounded again for possibly 48 hours. After a day off, I’m back to running outside in the snow and I have the grin you find after knocked off a big item from your bucket list. One down, another 100 to go!

 

The cards are out; the sport of choice is now euchre, interrupted by the odd client here wanting to recount their day, or any of us, chest puffed up, having had our respective best extreme ski day in our lives. In walks Onna Konicek, an ER Dr. from Aspen, sharing she is back from the hospital where she has a friend who broke his leg. A couple of queries later reveals how far the gap is between what we did, think we did, and what Onna does; while we skied, she was competing in an extreme big mountain event here in the backcountry. “All participants must ski the face of a mountain. I take photographs of the mountain and build a mental map of the possible lines to ski/board and I have to know where the rocks, chutes, cornices, cliffs are and which I want to board. Critical is to have confidence to know where I am on the mountain as I come down at speed. It is very difficult to build the mental map. Then I choose a line, and then I have to execute it. I’m assessed on fluidity, creativity, aggression, and line challenge and points deducted if I stop or fall by judges at the bottom who watch with binoculars.. My team mate Andy held a line and hucked a 60 foot cliff. I think he will win.”  

 

“Thanks Onna, this puts everything in perspective!” I think to myself.

 

In life we all have a path that can inspire, challenge, and provide pure enjoyment. I found one yesterday.

 

Carpe diem

 

Stefan

 

Along with 9 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

More snow falls here than anywhere else in the world; 50+ feet per year, sometimes 100; the magical outcome of the moisture of the pacific ocean, high altitude, and the Northern latitude just below the cold arctic circle.

 

The Chugach coastal Mountains rise straight out of the Gulf of Alaska. The Chugach range has mystical book ends that have captured my imagination since I was a kid; the East end, spilling into Canada, where we have our own tallest peak; Mt. Logan, nestled at the SW corner of Yukon, and at the Western end is the town of Kodiak, home of the Alaskan grizzly bear, and the inspiration of the world renowned working boot. Our neighbor to the North West is the Denali National Park; with Mt. McKinley towering above all other peaks in North America. Right in the middle is Valdez, where I find myself, waiting.

 

Valdez is home of the World Extreme Ski Championship; and our host here is Dean Cummings, former champ, who owns H2O Heli Guides; a heli skiing operation based here. Heli skiing in Alaska is an imperfect sport, there are frequent violent storms, and the cloud cover which makes it impossible to fly due to the fact we are above the tree line and there are no markers on the ground to land and drop us. We could likely fly today anywhere else as most operators can land in treed areas, but not here; there are none!

 

Sunday after 3 flights and 15 hours either flying or waiting in airports, later followed by an avalanche briefing, I went for a run at 20:30 during sunset. I had visions of running and seeing the most beautiful alpenglow. I had read about the local pinkish light emphasizing the local mountainous range from behind. We are so far North that the sun’s arc reverberates across the horizon as it lights the mountains from the ground up as opposed to above.  We are gaining almost 10 minutes of daylight per day, slowly moving to 19 hours of sunshine for Summer solstice. But it was foggy, and no mountains could be seen.

 

At 07:00 the next day, I was out again running with Evan; and this time we could see the incredible jagged mountains all around us, despite a low cloud cover. Back to the hotel for the avalanche rescue training, guides bury a beacon and teach us to find it efficiently and then to work as a group in an organized search. Locate the beacon; assemble your probe the snow to hit it; yell “strike”; and shovel in a V formation to get the body out; ideally all under 5 minutes to optimize chances of survival. Invariably, this is a gong show and you watch helplessly hoping one of the more attentive and cool under pressure skier will be in charge of the search if you are the one buried. Cloud cover is heavy and at noon, the dreaded announcement; “too dangerous to fly” says Chris. Argh!

 

Plan B; mobilize some guys to kill time and have a local experience. I found Anadyr Adventures and woke up Scott who was dozing I think. Can we ice climb, iceberg hunt, hike a glacier? We finally settle on kayaking out of Valdez harbor and paddle towards Snoop glacier; a 20 mile paddle, return, and hope for some marine wildlife; killer whales, humpbacks, porpoises, sea lions, and otters.

 

 

 

Valdez is our destination for its snow, but known worldwide for unfortunate reasons; in 1989, almost to the day, the Exxon Valdez, an oil tanker bound for California spilled about half a million gallons of crude oil. It was man’s largest environmental disaster until last year’s Gulf of Mexico’s Deepwater disaster. 25 years prior, the port of Valdez disappeared under the impact of then the world’s second largest earthquake, a 9.2 magnitude.

 

Six of us signed up for the outing; I’m paired with Jimmy from Long Island on my tandem whom I get to know while Scott leads us out along with two other guides. Scott’s lack of enthusiasm on the phone is explained; this is the first time this year that someone has requested to go kayaking! My shoulders are not used to paddling and were it not for the hypnotic incredible views and Jimmy at the back, I might have turned around. The water is so still you can see a perfect reflection of the mountain walls that surround us. We are paddling in a 3 mile by 12 mile bath tub; the mountains all around Valdez inlet rise 3-4,000 feet almost vertically from the water, and go down 750 feet underwater. It is that bathtub shape that in fact ended Valdez as it was then. Scott recounts “ground fissures under Port Valdez led to an underwater landslide which in turn produced a 30 foot tsunami which went offshore, away from town in the long axis of the tub we are in now. It hit that mountain over there 12 miles away, rose to 100 feet and went back towards us and washed the town away. It then went away from town and the process started again, twice.’ Valdez was rebuilt where it now is, a few feet higher and 3 miles away from the old Valdez. Good to know; as we paddled a 3.1 magnitude earthquake was recorded 9 miles from Valdez.

 

The 90 minute paddle takes us towards Shoop Glacier. We run out of steam and beach much earlier. The view is magnificent and we walk up river, at times snow to our waist to our destination, a gorgeous waterfall. We’re told we are the first clients to get there this year. During our 6 hour outing, marine highlights are the bald eagles, sea otters (who strap themselves to rooted kelp at night as to not drift in the strong tide), and porpoises. Along with guide Scott, we are the only ones to enjoy the presence of a pair of porpoises; I think the other paddlers were singlehandedly focused on getting back to home base. We can't help but want to share what we saw and when we do; we are one  upped - they apparently saw some mermaids!

I close out the day with another run in the harbor to digest the MSG overdose from the Chinese restaurant.

 

Monday turns out the same; just worse to test my patience; up at 0615 for an hour long run with Evan before returning to wait for the flying briefing. Again; no go. We scatter to various activities and I head to explore the Valdez Museum. Ping; time to rush back; the crew will try to get us airborne. Fast forward an hour; the first foursome lands after their first run; they are whitish exiting the A-Star helicopter. Their landing was frightening; the launch instructions were strict from guide Mike; “stay in my tracks” as he negotiates a cornice with no margin for error. Mike goes down and after a few turns clouds roll in and he is not to be seen until they get to the bottom. The visibility has disappeared and all ski down defensively, the area now too dangerous to ski. I get onboard at 1600 with the second foursome and we move to another area, part anxious to test my repaired knee and part ecstatic to be skiing Alaska at last.  After floating around various peaks; the pilot concludes landing conditions are too risky; he looks back and shakes his head. My day lasted 12 minutes in a helicopter. Possibly frustrated not to be able to fly or wanting to satiate us with something extreme other than skiing, he decides to go down in an aggressive cork screw and I manage to get a serious case of motion sickness where I almost lose it. “I have a headache; good news my knee is fine!” I mutter shaking my head.

 

Dinner brings the traditional bragging from Jeff, Evan, George, and Bobby. The rest of us nod along, knowing our turn will come. I am still nursing my headache and even a late night run can’t make it go away.   

 

So it goes in Alaska. Another day looking nothing like what I expected. A waiting game testing my patience before the epic skiing starts. Lights out; we are heading out for a run at 0615 tomorrow.

 

Carpe diem

 

Stefan

 

Along with 9 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

 

 

 

Along with 9 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

 

Every desert run has sections which will be walked, especially in the very loose sand, or steep uphills where running is marginally faster than trekking and far more demanding on the cardio. You move fast and efficiently on the flats; and always attempt to run the downhills to access free speed.

 

 

 

Well, I tore my meniscus while walking down the stairs in late November.

 

 

 

 

Thanks to Dr. Tansey and Cameron’s rapid diagnosis and Dr. Reed’s surgical hands I had a successful knee surgery a couple of weeks later. Conditions were perfect for me to optimize the rehabilitation plan. When faced with a mountain of setbacks, I know what to do; start climbing! This blog explores the two mindsets I went through dealing with the same injury; the first one which I approached resentfully, where I was obsessed with trying to run instead of focusing on rehab; and the second one to which I surrendered happily with a crawl, walk, and run mentality.

 

I intensely dislike the gym; it bores me! And physiotherapy is worse. I have run two deserts before, recovered from two knee surgeries and countless separations, dislocations, bursitis, tendinitis, hematomas. I'm 47 but still believe in my right to heal fast; a routine surgery that would regenerate itself with the prescribed effort. Wrong! An aging body, a stressful life, and marginal sleep are terrible conditions under which to hope for recovery with a basic effort. I managed to gain 25 pounds in 10 weeks from injury time in late November to early February and I couldn’t wait to start doing real cardio work, to start moving – it was either run or get a new wardrobe as none of my clothes were fitting anymore (although it was nice to get my fair share of ‘you look healthy’ comments). The routine was painful: visit with a therapist was 3x a week for an hour, and gym work, very localized on the knee, 4x a week for 30 minutes or at home with elastics. No cardio but for the recumbent bike if you can call it that, and no cross fit or anything that would stress out the knee.

 

 

 

 

My knee may have been a little unstable when my therapist and I decided it was time to test it again. Or was the knee just not used to carrying my newly gained mass? 

 

 

 

 

The briefing was simple: walk/jog for 30 minutes, of which each segment was to be broken down in 6 minutes: 5 minutes walking, and 1 minute jogging. Then slowly increase the running ratio if the knee felt good and the swelling was manageable with icing. A challenging concept to follow for anyone impatient.

 

 

 

 

It only took me one week to mess it up.

 

 

 

 

The timing was perfect to start the training process as I was on a cruise in the British Virgin Islands, with daily stops at picturesque islands in the area, providing a perfect, daily dose of creative running routes.

 

 

 

 

Our first stop was on relaxed Jost Van Dyke, a small island with pace dictated by the hours of its famed bar Foxy’s. I was running with my friend Anne Hood and I remember surrendering to the incredible vistas and only loosely following the 5/1 ratio. Every corner was followed by an almost vertical ascent, later rewarded with an equally dangerous steep descent; sort of roller coaster meets man-made road – a goat’s paradise which we came across as well. A first run is always a perfect setting to share with a good friend; even more memorable the next day when you realize you did too much too fast. Later that day (a sign of things to come to which I was blind at the time), I sipped on a “Painkiller”, the BVI’s most famous home grown drink, a frozen mixture of dark rum, pineapple and orange juice, Coco Lopez and fresh nutmeg. I was back running and as such drinking! Anne and I giggled during breakfast, lactic acid had produced unwanted soreness.

 

 

 

 

The next day in St. Maarten, after spending too much money at the jewelry store, I needed an antidote. Running was the solution and I was gone for 90 minutes, again joyfully climbing parts of the steep island to enjoy the gorgeous vistas. I was slowly compressing the meniscus and fooling myself after icing that all was OK. By the time I arrived in Nevis, I looked up to 3200 foot high Mt. Liamuiga and I thought it best to settle for a beach run, which turned into beach and cotton field run. By then the 5/1 was all but a distant memory.

 

 

 

 

Next was St. Barth’s where only French or the rich and famous can be found; there are essentially no natives due to the fact it never developed an agricultural base; it’s all rocks and cliffs. The charm is partly in trying to get to St Barth’s; the airport has a short runway (more on this later) and the harbor can’t accommodate large cruise ships. After a very memorable, and soak filled, lunch at Nikki Bar in St. Barth’s (alternating between torrential rain and Champagne showers from some very excited guests- a standard fare for the jet set clientele of Nikki’s where anything goes; even at lunch); I extended the route and went for a 2 hour runabout, dodging cars. Real estate is scarce, without sidewalks in the narrow winding roads. Unlike Italians, the French don’t honk their horns as it would be impolite. They just yell at you before hitting you. This is not an island where you should run with an iPod as you need to pay attention. If cars weren’t enough, I also had to dodge airplanes. As I ascended about 200 feet from Nikki Beach, I ran next to the St. Barth’s airport, nestled on a flat bottom, but seemingly carved out of the land, a mostly unusable 2,100 foot long runway with a beach at one end or a mountain at the other. On that day given wind conditions, flights had to come from above the jagged mountains in order to land as opposed to arriving from the sea side. The airport is unusual in that only small airplanes with pilots carrying special permits are allowed to land on the postage stamp runway. I stood there watching, on one side gratefully looking at the yacht I had arrived on while witnessing descents defying logic, at the angle so steep it requires precise touchdown. I offer a link that shows what’s possible at Gustaff III airport on runway #10, from exactly where I stood watching plane after plane try to negotiate the landing. Thanks to YouTube, get your giggles viewing this video to witness a landing gone bad on that famous runway. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-z2o0acIlm4.

 

 

 

 

Shortly after, I ran to the top of Col des Tourterelles about 500 feet above the sea giggling, with a mental note never to fly here were I to return. I bought a baguette at the top and was offered the customary “bise” from the baker (French double cheek kiss) along with change, a nice bonus from the yelling drivers. I asked about the airport and found out it was rated 3^rd most dangerous in the world – no wonder.

 

 

 

 

Final disembarkment was in St. Marteen and with time to kill waiting for the flight back to Toronto, a few of us ended up at the Sunset Beach Bar on Maho Bay, right next to Juliana Airport. By then I knew my knee was re-injured. I sat down on a chair to take it all in, shaking my head at having to go through another round of rehab. Distracting my darkening thoughts, every 2 or 3 minutes a new plane was landing, literally flying 100 feet over our heads on the beach. This video shows the vantage point from my chair; thanks to YouTube; it is advised not to fly a kite here.

 

 

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8KjPNj2jgw&feature=related

 

 

 

 

Unexpected events causing laughter are a perfect remedy to replace negative thoughts. If it weren’t enough that planes were landing on us, some had a more inspired idea; jet blasting! There to be witnessed is a St. Maarten hobby which only free spirited (“painkiller aided”) travellers looking for a lasting memory, partake in. Seeing the air movement of 100 mph produced by jet engines before takeoff is quite entertaining; seeing unsecured items flown off the beach into the ocean for a few hundred feet; hilarious. Seeing someone you know get blasted off the beach; priceless.

 

 

Two amigos who shall remain nameless (ok jonathon and oakley), decided to run down the beach to experience first hand a jet blast when they noticed a 747 was about to take off. I recall seeing something like this but it was in Jan de Bont’s “Twister” where Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt were tornado chasers. In this case J&O were blast chasers. To the delight of the crowd, these two middle aged men, in a perfect ‘you only live once’ mindset moment, were blasted away to the sea. Casualties included the loss of sunglasses, and a month later, grains of sand were still deeply infoliated in their skin. For another St. Maarten jet blasting extreme video, enjoy this clip, thanks to YouTube again. Caution advised. 

 

 

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VN3FZVPq_gc&feature=related

 

 

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8LeKylvvtc&feature=related

 

 

 

 

Dark thoughts were replaced and I laughed all the way to Pearson airport. The next day, the depressing cycle of rehab started again as island running had turned out to be too much, too fast. Rehab consisted of 3 days a week at the therapist to receive the concoction of lasers, resonance therapies, massages, acupunctures, active and vibration therapies. Most change management theories hinge on one key component; we need to have leverage to choose to change and de-anchor from the comfortable status quo. I had plenty of leverage; if my therapy failed, not only could running the Sahara be at risk; but two other seminal, once in a lifetime event (over-used term to describe to my wife an upcoming trip involving some exotic destination where I would indulge in some passion of mine, typically with a bunch of other men thinking the same) would also be at risk; heli-skiing in Alaska in April and cycling a few peaks in the mountains of France later on.

 

 

 

 

On Feb 18, my favorite demi God chiropractor declared Alaska wasn’t in the plans for me given the state of my knee. So I made the decision to let go of my typical impatient, resisting, un-coachable patient mindset; I wouldn’t miss one session, and my appointment with physio was now not movable in my calendar. I followed the expert counsel from Dr. Kazemi who has put me back together numerous times.  I surrendered to the process and decided to embrace it. ‘Be a great patient’ I told myself.

 

 

 

 

The process of thought replacement is critical to rehab. I am in a hurry in general and my relationship to rehab where slow wins the race, has typically been one hard to follow. I only have negative associations with rehab, be it lacking confidence in the process, boredom, it taking away valuable time from an over committed calendar, or deeper down, to the anxiety that things may never fully be the same again at the end of it.

 

 

 

 

I needed to re-frame the word rehab to something positive to look forward to, and create a longer term objective (I will be healthier and stronger when running the Sahara) and create very short term daily objectives to see and monitor progress and honor myself for following the program to execute flawlessly. This included spending hours in the pool running, along with women twice my age doing their aqua fitness routines at the Granite Club. When in rehab, you frequently keep odd company.

 

 

 

 

After a month of perfect daily intensive execution, Dr. K announced I was ready again to start walk-jogging for 30 minutes on flat terrain in addition to 30 minutes of localized leg strengthening. This time, I took a stop watch with me to ensure the 5/1 ratio was met. On March 21^st, I tried again. It was of course physically painless and I resisted the urge to do more. Two days later, we agreed I could now do 5/1’s twice a day, morning and night, and before I knew it, I was doubling up my walk/jog to 8KM’s a day, all of a sudden a very respectable 56KM/week base! I had just discovered another way to train and start piling up mileage with minimal stress on the knee!

 

 

 

 

I had to use thought replacement to dissipate the ‘geez this is slow’, to ‘I’m so grateful to be able to take the dog out twice a day for 30 minutes’. I now feel I have gained momentum again towards reaching my Sahara goals, within a safe framework. And most important, I got the nod from Dr. K to go ahead and consummate a 15 year dream: my appointment with a bucket list item; heli-skiing in Valdez (Alaska). Woohoo.

 

 

 

 

Carpe diem

 

 

 

 

Stefan

 

 

 

 

Along with 9 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.

 

 

 

 

Well my Sahara anyway.

 

There’s a distinction between saying you are going to do something and actually paying the dues that commit you to the event. I have been committed verbally and emotionally to run the Sahara Race in October 2011 but the fact is, I hadn’t registered officially. I now have and it feels like the red sea has finally parted!

 

 

Committed, not registered. Hmmmm. Why had I not done it earlier? I understand the various levels of intentionality enough to know that things happen with quantum velocity when you move a personal goal from its original, private status, to the “tell the world” public status. In the past, I have set goals that I kept to myself. I think they were more dreams and hopes, and they rarely came true. Keeping them private was just a meek way to hedge and protect myself against potential failure. Some goals I wrote down; that way I can see them and grow comfortable with them over time, at times dismissing, editing, or pursuing them. Others I posted on my wall for anyone who comes into my office space to see; and get the wind at your back which comes from sharing your more ambitious plans. But the act of saying it publicly, AND sharing it with others, creates the magic elixir. I’ve done this a dozen times and thus far, only twice have things not turned out. Got good learning out of it though…Ultimately signing or paying for it coupled with the public declaration is the most senior of all intentions. It is the tipping point, from ‘I wish, I hope, I might’, to ‘I AM’ doing this.

In the past 6 months, I came across 9 other Canadians who are joining me in the Sahara quest, and another 5 who are thinking about it. It will be an extraordinary journey to witness them (8 of them are rookies) go through the trials and tribulations of training, starting, and finishing the Sahara. My friends Alison Simpson, Sandy Johnson, and Anne-Marie Tseretopoulos, for example, ran almost 30 marathons, 4 marathons, and none respectively! Their running creds couldn’t be more apart; Alison is predictable and always race ready, Sandy is a lethal fast runner with 3:20 PB, now turned 50 and is re-inventing what is possible for her category, and Anne-Marie is... What possessed Anne-Marie to join? I don’t know, but I will drag her across to the finish line if needed. I can’t wait to follow their journey, and Anne-Marie’s is likely the most potentially transformative.

 

The beauty of this event is that it will be the most awesome physical and mental challenge they have ever taken on, something they likely have believed is impossible to do, and odds are, they will all finish. They will be part of a community of 150-200 racers taking the start at 0700 hour every day pushing their own limits, competing against themselves, the field, and the elements, and giving it their all to get to see the pyramids at the finish line. All of their life’s baggage will come out eventually; confidence will be met with humility; pain with the elation of finishing; and most importantly, their fears and anxieties with the new heightened belief in their own potential. They will all come out with a new compass around what is personally possible, a tool they can use going forward in their respective lives. Some will change jobs, others will renew their vows to the existing ones, but be more engaged than ever. Some will drop their relationships, some will be dumped, and others will grow more passionate and grateful for their partners who supported them through this project. Most definitely, all will have unforgettable memories and a whole new level of engagement in their lives.

 

I know my life is much fuller after having made the decision to attempt my first desert in December 2008. I had the privilege to run the Gobi in 2009 and thrive while doing it, with a first place in the 40-50 category and first Canadian; and then running the Atacama as a Team entrant in 2010, which we also won. But the experience went far beyond this; the whole project was very transformative for me.

 

1.      Physically, I went from never having run a marathon to being able to run 6 in 5 days and compete every minute of the race, pushing myself to limits to which I was blind, leaving me empowered at 47 that anything is possible, athletically. I also was blessed with positive residual habits such as working standing, walking up stairs as opposed to taking elevators, or seminal decisions like selling my car and walking to the bus and subway.

 

2.      Spiritually, I met extraordinarily generous strangers who helped me along, like Mehmet Danis, a Canadian and previous Atacama winner who mentored me along, or Donna Carrigan, who coached me once a week by email without having ever met me to this day! I met a dozen or so very special individuals while racing, each of which have touched my heart with a kind word, a just-in-time insight, or an inspired action, always with the utmost humility. Strangers, now friends, from around the world. I got to know two other Canadians intimately with whom I am bonded for life. Louie Santaguida and Ernie Votis ran the Gobi solo with me as solo participants, and then we ran the Atacama as a team where we were victorious together. For all of us who want to remain fit, it is a special day when you can say ‘This was the greatest physical accomplishment of my lifetime’. That was the Atacama, echoed by two others sharing in the same experience. My family showed me incredible support, without which my participation in the race would have been impossible.

 

3.      Mentally, I grew to be stronger than before and adversity is now a comfortable bed fellow. I can now access a broader toolkit to resolve challenges that might otherwise have derailed me. Running a desert is an exercise in resilience and patience and maintaining positive self-talk to lift one’s own spirit as opposed to having to outsource it to others, or worse, to food, booze, or drugs or other defeating potentially addictive habits. I awakened the warrior within, now having been put to good use on other life projects.

 

4.      I got to enjoy the journey as opposed to make it all about the finish line. The training was painful but offered many lessons, the travel pre- and post- event, in either of China, Argentina, or Chile were all a first for me, each with its distinctive people and features. I discovered the beauty of the un-spoilt mountainous desert terrain, saw more versions of reds and browns I ever knew; all in a contrast to the extraordinary density and pace of Shanghai, Beijing, and Buenos Aires.

Alison, Sandy, and Anne will be on the starting line, shoulder to shoulder with some of the fastest ultra runners on earth, some in fact being paid to run. Everyone is in for their own surprises, a natural by-product of running, unaided, 6 marathons in 5 days with 20-25 pounds of food and survival gear on their back in some of the world’s harshest conditions, in the hottest desert in the world, at times the also the windiest. They will experience for themselves why Times Magazine rated 4 Deserts racing one of the 10 most demanding races on earth (along with the Tour de France). May their experience be as rich as mine has been

Which led me to ask myself this question: Do my 9 running colleagues intend to run it? Or are they running it?

 

Since I’m 3-peating a desert race, even though I hadn’t signed on formally, my word was good for it. Yet, after suffering a bunch of injuries including knee surgery a couple of months ago, self doubt must have been eating at me as neither had I signed up, nor sent my money in. After a bi-weekly conference call mid-March with the group, I took on to sign up and clean up the formality. Since then, magically, it almost feels like I started to heal faster and truly progress my recovery. My level of commitment and follow through in my physio has shot up since. No doubt there was something about signing up officially that freed me up from the anxieties that were developing around my over-used, ailing body; sub-consciously, I was starting to doubt my body’s capacity to heal. One cheque, a signature, and a mind shift, and my body is responding to the physio! Odd? Not so according to the science of the brain – but more on that another day.

 

We have a Sahara group meeting March 29^th at The Spoke Club and I intend to query who is intending to run as opposed towho is in fact running. Clearly, the pattern thus far has been that women just handle their business faster than men; 3 out of 4 signed up and only 2 out of 6 guys have. After going through my own anguish about renewing my vows to desert racing, I now will get a chance to probe what level of commitment my fellow runners are at. Will it be:

 

1) I don’t want to commit yet;

 

2) I want to get to the finish line, but I don’t really want to put any effort in yet;

 

3) I will try my best;

 

4) I’m in; or

 

5) I’ve paid and I’m in.

 

Same goes for any life project; from a marriage, a job, or a project requiring some level of effort and commitment. Time to look at the other key projects in my life and audit. Am I in? Are they in? Not? Can you be counted on? No?

 

Life is abundant with choices to make. Every day.

 

Welcome to my 3^rd journey in the desert. Hop in and join us for the next 6 months and come along to share the laughter and the sadness, the ups and downs of a group trying their own impossible; having 10 competitors of various skill level and commitment get to the finish line.

 

Carpe Diem.

 

Stefan

 

Along with 9 other like-minded executives, I am running and raising $100,000 to help less fortunate families in our community. Please visit www.running4nabs.com for more details.