Tales from the Furnace: Alexa Dickerson Pre-Race Q&A

Alexa Dickerson, 24, is an ultrarunner and Crossfit coach from Orange County, California. On July 16, 2012, Alexa will run 135 miles nonstop through Death Valley, in the legendary Badwater Ultramarathon. This year, she is the second youngest Badwater entrant and is one of the youngest female Badwater entrants in the race's 25 year history. I had the opportunity to talk with Alexa about her running career and what inspired her to sign up for "the world's toughest footrace." She will be running to raise money for the Dreamchaser Foundation, a charity in which the proceeds go directly to help AIDS orphans in developing countries. The following is a transcript of our conversation:

Why do you run?

That’s kind of a tough question. I just enjoy being outside. I’ve never been big into team sports and I like doing stuff on my own. I like the alone time. I like exploring the outdoors. I also like the competitive side of racing. I like that, since I put in all the effort, if I suck in a race, it’s all on me. I cannot blame teammates. I enjoy it.

Have you always been an athlete, Alexa?

I started doing track and cross country in high school, and before that, I did gymnastics in elementary and junior high. But, nothing super competitive. I just did it because it was fun. I started running during my freshman year of high school, and I’ve pretty much been running ever since.

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in Orange County, California. I’ve been here my whole life.

Was athletics a big part of your upbringing?

I was never forced to do a sport. My parents encouraged me to do it if I enjoyed it, but they never forced me into anything. I never really liked competitive team sports, like basketball or baseball. My dad had done track in high school and he was pretty good, so that’s what led me to try out for the track team when I got to high school. I thought, “I’ll try it out and see if I like it.” But I wasn’t really good at sports before that.

How did you get into ultrarunning?

I started ultrarunning when I was 19. I was a sophomore in college when I did my first 50k. At that time, I had done one marathon – I did the San Diego Rock 'n' Roll Marathon in 2007 – and two months later, I signed up for my first 50k and finished that. It was the Mount Disappointment 50k.

How did you find out about ultras?

When I was training for my first marathon, I didn’t know what I was doing or how to train. One of my stepdad's friends was training for the marathon and he was in a running club. My stepdad introduced us, and I ended up joining the running club so I could have people to train with. It turned out that several of the people in the running club ran ultras. So, after hearing about that for a little while, I decided to sign up for the 50k trail race because it sounded like a lot more fun than a road race.

How did you feel after the race?

I felt horrible! I mean, I loved it; I loved the experience. But, I don’t think I was really prepared for it. It took me 9 hours and 16 minutes, which is a very long time for a 50k. [Laughs]. I didn’t really know how to fuel properly, and it was in the mountains in August, so it was also really hot, and I hadn’t done much heat training or mountain running. So I didn’t go in prepared. After the race, I was so sore. I could barely walk the next day. It took me a while to recover. I remember I could barely run for like the next month. But, I finished. It was an amazing feeling of accomplishment. And I was hooked.

I’d imagine a lot of people would go through something like that and say, “No more. I’ve had it with these distances.” But, you didn't say that. What is it that had you coming back to ultras after that first experience?

It was just fun being out there in the mountains. I also just liked the feeling of doing something really hard and finding out what I am capable of. That feeling of accomplishment you have at the end of a race just makes it all worth it. And, back to what I said earlier about not liking team sports: when you finish a race, you get to say, “I did this because of me, all by myself." I really like that. It fills you with pride. Another thing is that the people I was running with were super nice and friendly.

What do you think you get out of racing these kinds of distances versus what you might get out of, say, a 5k or a 10k or even a marathon?

In a 100 mile race, there is a lot more to it than just being in shape. In a 5k, you train for it, you get in shape, and I guess small things could go wrong during the race, but probably nothing major. In a 100 miler, there are so many other aspects to it. Blisters can take you out. Or bad nutrition. It’s more of an adventure. Everything has to fall into place in order for you to do well and finish. It just makes things more exciting. I also just like the feeling of being completely trashed. [Laughs]. I know that sounds weird.

Well, you know, I think that’s interesting. I think pain and exhaustion are an important part of these events, and I’d actually like to come back to that topic a little later on. Now, you graduated from Cal State Fullerton in 2010. What did you major in?

Kinesiology.

And you were still running throughout college?

Yes, I was.

Did you find it difficult to achieve a balance between running and school life?

At some points it got hard. But, I’ve never been a super high mileage person. I always did my long runs on the weekend. And, during the week, I didn’t really run super high mileage. So it was easy. Well, not easy. But, manageable. And I worked at a gym. When I was in college, I worked at 24 Hour Fitness. And now, I work at a Crossfit gym. It’s easy to find time to work out when you work at a gym.

And what is Genr8?

Genr8 is the company that makes Vitargo. I do sales for them part-time. I’m also one of their sponsored athletes.

Tell me about that. Why do you like Genr8?

I was actually introduced to the product by my boyfriend. He is a partner in the company. Genr8 is the company and Vitargo is the product. Vitargo is one of those super carbs. It’s extracted from barley. It gets out of your stomach and into your muscles over two times faster than maltodextrin. Maltodextrin is what is in GU gels and CytoMax. Since it gets out of your stomach quicker, you can actually take in a lot more calories per hour. We have athletes taking in 1,100 calories an hour, and they have no bloating or stomach issues. It’s a pretty cool product. It’s a small company right now, but I like that. I get to go to trade shows and talk to other athletes. I like it because I know the company. They are reputable. We have university research behind our product that proves it works, so I know it is going to work for me during my races.

Will this be your main fuel at Badwater?

Yes.

What is your boyfriend's name?

Mark Matyazic.

Does he run?

Yes, he actually ran Badwater last year, and he is running it this year, too.

Are you going to run it together?

No, he is a lot faster than me. He got 6th place overall last year. He is in the 10 am start this year.

Is competition ever an issue in the relationship?

Obviously, we get kind of competitive with each other. I may joke around and say something like, “Oh, I’m going to beat you at Badwater.” But, he is a lot faster than me, so that’s probably not going to happen unless I have a really great race and he just blows up completely. But, I can tell that even when I joke, he doesn’t really like it. [Laughs]. It’s never really an issue, though. We both got into ultrarunning before we met each other.

How did you meet?

We both did the Coastal Challenge Stage Race. And we both did the Javelina Jundred. Not together, but we were both signed up and it was both of ours first 100 miler. That was back in 2009. We had a mutual friend, and before Javelina, I had gotten a stress fracture in my foot. Mark, who has been injured tons of times, had stress fractures before. So, he had this machine called a bone stimulator. [Laughs]. Sounds really funny. But, it helps heal bones. Basically, our friend introduced us so he could help heal my stress fracture before Javelina. And then we just started hanging out, and that eventually led to dating.

Do you train together?

We train separately because of our schedules. Sometimes we’ll run together on weekends. But, he has his way of training and I have my way of training. But, we’ll go to races together and we’ll do big stuff together, like go around the Grand Canyon or, sometimes when we go on vacation, like when we went to Cabo last year, we’ll run together on vacation. But, during a normal week, we usually train separately.

Between work and running, does spending that time apart ever become challenging?

I try not to let it affect me too much. I get a little jealous sometimes when he goes to do a race with friends and I don’t. But, running has always been his thing before me. And I had my running before I met him, so I think it’s good for us to do it separately. It’s our time alone from each other.

What do your parents think about your running career? Are they supportive?

I don’t think my mom was very excited when I found out I got into Badwater. I made the mistake of showing her the movie “Running on the Sun” a couple of years ago. So, of course she got this picture in her head of how dangerous the race is and people dying on the side of the road and stuff like that. And I tell her, “Mom, I have a crew. They are going to be with me every step of the way. I will get pulled from the race before anything ever gets that bad.” And, she has come around a lot more to the idea. She’s totally fine with it now, and I think, really excited for me. I don’t really speak to my dad that much, but I think he’s proud of me for getting in.

Will your mom be at Badwater?

No. My mom said she’d crew if I wanted her to, but I don’t really want her to.

Because you think she’d be worried?

I just don’t know how she’d do in that kind of heat. She’s not an experienced ultrarunner. She crewed me for my first 100 miler. But, this is different. I just don’t want her to see me if I am in really bad shape. Because then she will pull the “mom card” and say something like, “Oh, it’s okay for your to stop.” She’s seen me in bad situations in races before, but I think this just might be a little too extreme for her. I’d rather not have her there.

Alexa, what was the toughest moment you ever had during a race?

I think it was Western States in 2010. I was having a bad race. I was struggling to make cutoff times. I made the overall cutoff time by just five minutes. The last ten miles, every time I came into an aid station, I was making it by, like, a minute. I was cutting it really close. And then I had people yelling at me to get in and out of the aid station in less than a minute. And this was 95 miles into a race. It was very stressful. And I was already feeling like crap. That was not fun. Worst way to finish a race.

How did you first hear about Badwater?

I heard about it in high school. I just remember hearing about this crazy race out in Death Valley and that the most elite runners did it. I think I read about it, too, in runner magazines. When I got into ultras, I started hearing more about it. Then, I was asked to crew for it in 2009. Once I crewed for it, I knew I wanted to do it. I didn’t know that I’d be doing it so soon, though.

Who did you crew for?

Leigh Corbin.

How did you like the crewing experience?

I loved it. It was a lot of hard work, but it was such a cool experience. Seeing all the runners out there in the middle of the desert was just absurd and really, really cool. And Death Valley was just so awesome. It was super hot! [Laughs]. And it had more hills than I thought it would. It's funny, when I heard about the race, I just thought the main factor was the heat. I thought it was hot and flat. I didn’t realize the mountain ranges you go through are pretty tough. So, that was a learning experience. I just loved the whole experience. It made me want to race it myself.

What made you sign up this year? Take me through your thought process. You're sitting in front of your computer. You're filling out the application...

I wanted to do it last year because Mark was doing it last year and I wanted us both to do it together. But, I needed three 100 milers, and I DNF’ed what would have been my third 100. That was Javelina 2010. I got injured. So, I couldn’t apply. He applied. Got in. And, of course, I was really jealous that he got in and I didn’t. So, I applied this year. I filled out the application in New Orleans. There was a 126 mile race I did that I had to drop out of. Mark was crewing me. I had been injured off and on. For some reason, a week before the race, my injury flared up really bad. I had a popliteal and calf injury that I had developed during Javelina a few months prior. But, I still wanted to go out there and try to finish. During the race though it flared up really badly, and by mile 55 it was so bad. I had wanted to sit in the crew car for an hour and let it calm down but [Mark] said no. He had seen me limping since about mile 15, and it was just getting worse and worse. So, he made me call it a day. He didn't want me to keep going and do permanent damage. I was pretty upset. I was so pissed. I had wanted to use that race on my Badwater application. In order to apply you need a minimum of three 100 milers. I was already planning on applying, but I didn’t want to just have the minimum qualifications. I wanted to have more than that to boost my chances of getting in. But, I was so upset that I dropped that the next day when I woke up, I just filled out the application. It wasn’t that I needed to prove myself. I just needed something else to look forward to. I already knew I was going to apply, but the drop just made me more motivated to do it.

Were you expecting to get in? Or was it a surprise?

I guess I kind of thought I would get in because I’m a female and I’m a younger female and there aren’t too many young females who do the race. I guess I kind of expected it. It wasn’t a complete shock that I got in.

Now, you are being coached by a very accomplished woman. Tell me about Lisa Smith-Batchen and how that relationship came about.

I knew Lisa had done Badwater plenty of times. She had sent me an e-mail saying congrats for getting in and offering advice if I needed any help. Then, I saw that other runners had been coached by her. And I was reading a book. I forgot what it’s called. It was a book where each chapter talks about a different Badwater runner.

Scott Luwig’s "A Few Degrees From Hell"?

Yes! That one! And there were a few chapters where people said, “Oh, Lisa was my coach.” So, I e-mailed her asking her how she coached and how much she charges and so on. We talked about it on the phone, and we just hit it off. I knew that she knew what she was doing and would be a good coach. And we got along really well. And after we talked, she asked me if I wouldn’t mind running for a charity. Of course, when she explained how we would be helping kids and AIDS orphans, there was just no way that I could say no to something like that. It just sounded like a good cause. It just helps motivate me even more.

Have you always felt you trained better under a coach?

Yes and no. When I was training for Western States, I had a coach who was an ultrarunner and was a big promoter of Crossfit Endurance. We kind of argued and our personalities conflicted a lot. Even though I did feel like I was getting in shape under him, I didn’t feel like it was enough for a 100 miler. I think if the personalities are right and if the training philosophies are in sync, having a coach can be great. I can do really well under a coach. With Lisa, I just love her coaching. I love the workouts that she has me doing. With Brian, it was just too much of a conflict. But, for most of my ultras, I’ve actually just trained myself or I’ve taken advice from Mark. But, something as big as Badwater, I feel like I need a coach to make sure I’m not overtraining or undertraining. I just need to make sure that I’m doing things right because this is such a big race. I definitely don’t want to screw it up.

What kind of training schedule are you on?

She has me doing a lot of different things, which I like. This week is kind of my recovery week because I’m in between races. I did a marathon on Sunday and I ran a 50k on Saturday. But, usually she gives me all kinds of stuff. She incorporates hill work. She’ll have me do something like an 8 mile hill run, and have me run hard on the uphills and hard on the downhills and keep the flats at an easy pace. Or she’ll have me walk on a treadmill at an incline. I probably never would have programmed myself to walk on a treadmill at an incline, but obviously that’s going to be super important for Badwater because, clearly, I’m not going to be running up all those hills. I need to get used to walking. I also have easy days where I walk. Some days I go hard on just the hills. Some days I go hard the whole time. She also has me doing intervals, like do a half mile hard then a half mile easy. Stuff like that. It’s good that it’s not just putting in mile after mile with no rhyme or reason. Every workout has a purpose. She has me doing lots of cross training, too, like doing 15 minutes on the rower at a good pace or she’ll have me bike. She asked me to keep doing Crossfit, too. That's good because I won't get burned out on just running. I get to do other fun stuff.

Do you know what your peak weekly mileage will be prior to the race?

I don’t know. She gives me my schedules about a week or two weeks at a time. But, I don’t think she’ll have me going much over 70 miles. I think that’s what she said her max is. It’s totally manageable.

What time of the day do you like to train?

Usually, I run in the afternoons. I’m not much of a morning person. [Laughs]. Sometimes, I’ll train in the mornings, but it’s rare. It takes me a while to wake up and get in the mood to go workout. I’ll wake up, eat breakfast, do whatever I need to do around the house. Usually, I’ll workout at 12:30 pm. I teach a class from 12:30 pm to 1:30 pm, and then I have a three to four hour break. So, I’ll run during my break. Then, I don’t start working again until 4:30 when I teach my evening classes.

How do you eat?

I eat pretty well for the most part. I try to follow the Paleo Diet. The Caveman Diet. I try to eat as many natural foods as possible. The only thing I eat that’s not Paleo is probably rice. Sometimes I just can’t get enough carbohydrates on fruits and vegetables; I need more calories. Usually, for breakfast, I’ll eat eggs and then either rice or sweet potatoes or sometimes vegetables. I eat really well for a majority of the time.

Where is your favorite place to do your training runs?

Most of the time, I like to trail run, just because road running gets so boring. And you have lights and traffic on the road and it just takes forever stopping and starting and stopping again. But, there are some good roads out by where we live. There’s one road through Santiago Canyon that’s pretty scenic. But, I still like doing trail runs. I like to do El Moro, which is down by the beach. I train there a lot.

Do you run with music?

Yes, I always run with my iPod. I listen to all sorts of stuff. I’ll listen to pop stuff, like Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, and all that sort of girly music. I’ll also listen to Eminem or Linkin Park. Anything that has a good beat or rhythm to it and will keep me moving. It just depends what kind of mood I’m in. But, I pretty much listen to anything.

Are you heat training?

Well, I need to start actually. [Laughs]. I need to start getting in the sauna sometime soon. I need to talk to Lisa about that. Right now, I’m just trying to run when it’s hot out. But, I’ll probably start heat training soon. One of the good things about dating someone who has run Badwater is that we make trips out to Palm Springs, which gets almost as hot as it will be in Death Valley. We’re also going to go down to Mexico next month to get some heat training in.

Do you have a time goal in mind for the race?

I would like to be somewhat competitive. If I could get in the 30 hour range, I would be thrilled. But, who knows what could happen? But, 30 would have me stoked.

Going back to what we were talking about in the beginning about pain: What is your philosophy on pain? How do you handle it during a race? Do you love the pain of an ultra?

I don't love it. Although, I know that pain is a big part of an ultra, so maybe I do love it. It is sort of self-inflicted. [Laughs]. I guess I just like the idea of pushing yourself really hard. If you’re running a shorter distance, like a 5k, you finish and you feel good and that's it. I feel like if you run far, like a 100 miler, and you’re hurting, it just makes it feel so worthwhile. Knowing that you ache all over is kind of a good feeling. But, I don't know if I love pain. It’s not like I’m running and I say, “Oh yes! My knee hurts!” [Laughs]. But, knowing that you pushed through something that difficult and that you overcame it, that’s what feels good.

At 24, you are the second youngest Badwater entrant this year. How does that feel?

Well, I wanted to be the youngest. I was kind of disappointed when I saw there was someone younger than me. For girls, I mean. I know there have been a couple of guys who have been younger. Me and Claire will be some of the youngest girls to ever do Badwater, which is a pretty cool feeling. I just feel like there are a lot of girls – this is going to sound bad – who don’t push themselves. It’s just kind of cool that we are in our early 20s and we are doing this huge event and not many other girls would even want to attempt something like that.

Any fears?

No, not really. I’ll get nervous, but I’ll be prepared. 135 miles is a long way to go. You have a lot of miles to screw up and then fix it. It’s not like a 5k where you’re done in 20 minutes. I feel like in this long of a race, you just take it one step at a time and deal with stuff as it comes up. It doesn’t help much to get too worried about it beforehand. I’m more excited than scared. It’s a race. I’ll do it. It will be hard. Definitely the hardest thing I have ever done. But, I'll do it.

Grand Teton 50 Miler Race Report

It was an intimidating start. I wasn't feeling 100%, the field was small, and the course was tough. I dreaded finishing in last place, or worse yet, not finishing at all. Both were distinct possibilities in my mind as I stood with the small crowd at the start line at 6:29 am, waiting for the race director to countdown to "1... and then, GO!" Fifty miles can seem like an eternity when you're in a bad frame of mind. But my coach, Lisa Smith-Batchen, was at the finish line, and I could not envision quitting in her presence. The woman would kill me.

"3...2...1..." And we were off. The course is comprised of two identical 25-mile loops. The first part of the course goes up what is called Fred's Mountain. It's a doozy of a climb up steep, rocky single-track trail. But, it was a beautiful morning and the views were gorgeous. Once I got into the race, all my anxiety melted away. The runners around me were chatting away about this and that. I cheerfully listened on as I ran.

After Fred's, it's pretty much all downhill. You work your way to the bottom of the canyon and then you make your way back up to the top for the next 25 miles. I made the big mistake of hammering the first part. The course is very runable, but, you need to pace yourself if you're going to hold out for the second loop. But, I wasn't thinking about things like that. I was having fun. Eventually, I put my iPod on and was grooving to some tunes. I was passing people. Life was good.

By the time I got to mile 25, I was in the lead pack. Not good. Lisa screamed at me to "slow down!" By that time, my quads were kind of shot. And all I could think about was going up that damn mountain again. Slowing down would not be an issue. I was deflated.

The second climb up Fred's was grueling. The trail going up seemed never-ending. My brain kept going, "This is brutal." I kept saying that over and over in my mind: "this is brutal... this is brutal." Then, I realized how negative up my thinking was. If you think something is going to be awful, it probably will be awful. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, I changed my thinking. Trite as it may sound, I instead repeated the words, "This is beautiful." And, dammit, it worked. I got over the mountain.

The rest of the run is sort of a blur. I fell down a couple of times and skinned my finger. That hurt. I got nipple chaffing. (NOTE TO SELF: duct tape is not the answer to this particular issue). But, overall I was satisfied with my performance. I finished in 13 hours and change. Not a PR, but I'll take it. When I reached that finish line, it was - as is the case with most of my big race finishes - all I could do from gobbling down every and any food item in sight!

Philosophies from the Tetons (Part 1)

While I've been living here in the Tetons, training with my friend Lisa Smith-Batchen, certain philosophies and ideas have come up that have really challenged the way I think about running, training, nutrition, and life in general. I've consolidated a few of these life philosophies into a list. A lot of these philosophies are Lisa's own. Others I have gathered from people I have met in the area. Still others are ones I have formulated on my own. I am conflicted on some of these ideas. I want to believe they hold true, but a part of me doesn't fully buy into them. I turn these ideas over and over in my head. I debate them. I question the truth of them. Whether they are true or not is almost beside the point, though. They are meant to challenge you and your perceptions. They have certainly challenged my own.

1) Live for the moment - I have heard this one several times from several people, and I'm not sure I buy it. Living for the moment is a wonderful concept, but it can lead to selfishness and recklessness. If you only live for the moment, you can end up neglecting so many important aspects of life. As such, I think the phrase "live for the moment" is incomplete. It should be: "live for the moment; plan for the future; and never forget your past."

2) Live a minimalistic life - At least one person here in the Tetons likes to expound on the virtues of living a minimalistic life. That is, consolidating all materialistic belongings to the bare essentials. As it was explained to me, this philosophy revolves around a denial of materialistic gratification and instead embraces nature and the primal instincts of man. Physical exertion, food, and sex are key tenants apparently. It goes even beyond that, though. The goal is to get rid of all the clutter in your life, psychological, spiritual, or otherwise. Theoretically, this is all probably a good idea, but when carried to its logical extreme, this concept rings of a kind of philosophical elitist separatism. A person cannot divorce themselves completely from all social responsibilities. We can't all retreat into the woods and live the simple life. The man who does so runs the risk of leading a very selfish life.

3) Meat and dairy are essential - A lot of people here eat meat. And dairy is huge here. Elk and bison burgers are in abundance in this part of the world. Milkshakes are big. It's very hard to be a vegan in Teton Valley (but I am managing just fine). Athletes here rely on animal products for protein, calcium, etc. Of course, the quality of the food is much better here. We are surrounded by farms. These farms treat their animals very well. Cows roam the fields happily. The farm animals lead relatively stress-free lives. As such, the milk and meat they yield is not contaminated with stress chemicals or other harmful substances. I've heard athletes say they "need" animal protein. This may be true. I've always assumed that because the essential amino acids to form protein are found in plants, humans don't "need" to eat meat to get protein. In fact, the only reason animal meat has protein in it is because they consume plants with the essential amino acids to form protein. But, maybe some people assimilate and use animal protein more efficiently than they do plant-derived protein. In any case, I don't think being vegan is an ethical or nutritional imperative. I think that as long as people are conscientious about what they eat and where their food comes from, that is big step in the right direction.

4) Run with your core, not your legs - Your core should be engaged when you run. Focus on your core when you run. Keep your core strong. If you don't have a strong core, you will tire out your legs very quickly. Say to yourself, "Core, core, core..." with each step. You shouldn't hear your feet slapping down on the ground. Silent feet are best. Focus on your breathing. Concentrate on your form.

A Glimpse into the Life of Elite Ultrarunner Lisa Smith-Batchen

I recently had the opportunity to live for two weeks with Lisa Smith-Batchen, her wonderful husband, Jay, and their two adopted daughters, Anabella and Gabriella, and their dog, Skip. I witnessed her family and professional life as she prepared for the grueling Badwater Ultramarathon. The following are my observations of this time period.

“Do you feel like an elite athlete?”

“No.” It was quiet for a moment as Lisa Smith-Batchen thought out her next words. “I feel like a busy mom,” she said.

She resumed packing her kids’ lunches, a ham and cheese sandwich, pretzels, an apple, a bag of orange slices, and a bag of baby carrots. We were standing in the kitchen of her home in Alta. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, casting a warm glow on the Tetons.

“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” she said, looking out the window. Lisa had been awake since five o’clock. She had taken the dog out for a walk, showered, and dressed for work. Her husband, Jay, was already at their store in Driggs. In a few minutes, the girls would need to wake up. Right next their lunch boxes on the kitchen counter, stood a big jar of money – mostly pennies – that Lisa found on her training runs. Pennies from Heaven she liked to call them. They were all to be donated to AIDS Orphans Rising, a charity very dear to Lisa’s heart and the focus of her life’s work.

“You can feed a child in some countries for six pennies. Just six cents can save someone’s life,” she told me. I wondered if perhaps she thought about her daughters when she talked about orphans. Did the love she feels for her own children fuel her zeal for helping the less fortunate, those children in the world without food, shelter, or loved ones to care for them?

When Gabby and Annie woke up, it was a mad rush to the door. Lisa was already running late to her morning class at Dreamchasers. She put Skip in his kennel in the back of the van, along with food, water, and his leash. As soon as they arrived at the store on Main Street, Lisa hopped out, helped her kids out of their car seats, and dashed into the doors. She glowed with energy.

“Hey everybody,” she called out. “Let’s get moving!”

Music blared from the speakers. She picked up the medicine ball and began her cardio core instruction.

“Get those knees up,” she yelled. “Move it! Keep those abs tight!” By the end of the session her students were drenched in sweat, their breaths coming in short, fast bursts. Everyone seemed content with their morning workout. But, Lisa didn’t stick around to chat. She got the girls together and drove to the Sports Club at Teton Springs, where she would work until closing time.

“When do you find time to train,” I asked her on the ride to the Club. “I don’t have time for that,” she replied.

It was true. In all the time I spent with her, she only did a handful of training sessions. Badwater was fast approaching. This was Lisa’s tenth and final go at the 135-mile run in Death Valley, dubbed “the toughest footrace on the planet.” The race is the final part of her Running Hope to America mission, her way of raising money for and awareness of orphaned children around the world who have lost their parents to AIDS.

Even with Badwater around the corner, Lisa didn’t get in any distance longer than twelve miles prior to the race. There was always too much going on. Kids. Work. Coaching. When she finally got home at night, she would sit with Jay in their living room and they would talk about their day. Sometimes they would just sit silent and be together, loving partners supporting each other through the hectic hubbub of everyday life.

After the girls went to bed, Lisa would get on her computer and sort through hundreds of e-mails, letters from students around the world who sought advice from their coach. Late into the night she worked, sometimes staying up until midnight.

Lisa is many things to many people – a mother, wife, sister, and friend. She is an inspiration and a teacher. She brings hope to many people with her charitable acts of kindness. Her seemingly inexhaustible amount of energy is astonishing to behold. If she spreads herself too thin sometimes, it is because her very nature is selfless.

Even though she didn’t get in what might be considered optimal training for an event like Badwater, her will power alone, her passion for running for charity - running for a purpose, she calls it - will undoubtedly carry her through to a glorious finish, whatever that finish may be.

By the time you read this article, the race will be finished. While I can’t say for sure whether or not she will make it to the finish since nothing is certain in a race like Badwater, I can promise you that Lisa will have given it her all. She will not give up her fight to help the children. Never.

As she shut down her computer for the night, she looked at me and said, “Be ready to wake up early tomorrow, kiddo. We’re going walking before work to look for pennies to put in the jar.” With that, she went to bed.

2011 North Texas Spring Running Camp w/ Lisa Smith-Batchen

North Texas Spring Running Camp Weekend: April 15-17 2011

When: Friday, April 15 at 12:00pm - April 17 at 3:00pm

Where: Collin County Adventure Camp

This camp is designed for beginner to advanced runners. Participants will be divided into groups based on ability during training sessions with the camp tailored and designed so that each runner can meet their personal needs and goals.

Taking place on the 427 acres of the Collin County Adventure Camp just 30 minutes from Plano, TX, the camp will be hosted by one of North America’s greatest women’s running and fitness instructors and coach, Lisa Smith-Batchen. She is also one of the most recognized ultra-marathoners and top endurance athletes in the world and for years has successfully facilitated running and training camps in the Teton Mountains and other locations around the world.

A “sampling” of Lisa Smith Batchen’s professional accomplishments includes:

• Two 1st place finished in the Badwater Ultra marathon (competed in 9)
• First and only American female to win Marathon des Sables Ultra marathon.
• 1st person to ever run from Las Vegas to Mt. Whitney (306 miles)
• Hawaiian Ironman Championships
• Created the Dreamchasers Foundation – Dreamchasers is dedicated to raising funds to help needy women and children around the world to survive and succeed.
• Created the Dreamchasers Outdoor Adventure Club - A personal trainer since 1982, the club now hosts multiple running camps, organized race events, fitness classes, training and coaching.
• “Running Hope Through America” – in 2010 completed a 2,500 mile run in two months raising over $700,000 so far for orphans.

Weekend Overview/What’s Included: $349 includes all food and lodging

• Bunkhouse lodging and all meals.
• Aid station-style support for all running sessions.
• Swag bag including a technical running shirt and other related goodies.
• 2 daily coach-led running sessions
• Gait analysis and Natural Running Form instruction by guest coach Patton Gleason.
• Injury prevention/biomechanics session with other technical experts.
• Nutritional and hydration counseling.
• Yoga and other core fitness sessions specific for runners.
• Night trail running session. Bring headlamps and a handheld flashlight!
• Training plan consultation.
• Loads of fun and camaraderie with other inspired running friends!

There will be a drawing on Sat. night for a pair of NEWTON trail shoes! $140.00 value.
The first 10 registrants get $25 off the camp and an extra entry for the drawing.

Registration/Questions Contact: Dave Carder 469-667-7025 davecarder@gmail.com

Rocky Raccoon 100 Race Report 2011 (Part 3)

In the zone at mile 80.

If anyone knew what to do, it would be Lisa. For the past two years, Lisa Smith-Batchen has mentored me in my running endeavors. We have become friends. She is an extraordinary, world-class endurance athlete and ultrarunner. 9-time finisher of the Badwater Ultramarathon (with two first place finishes) and winner of the Marathon des Sables in 1999, Lisa has competed in dozens of ultramarathons all over the world, and has even completed the Badwater double crossing. This past summer, she ran 50 miles in 50 states in 62 days. If anyone knew how to handle a little knee pain, it would be Lisa.

I called her up and her cheerful voice came on the line.

"Hey kiddo," she said. "How's it going?"

"Well, not too good Lisa. I'm at 40 miles and I've got this pain in my knee. I'm not doing a whole lot of running. I'm worried that if I continue at this pace, I won't be able to finish in time."

"Where on the knee is the pain?"

"It's like right in there. It feels like there's a little popping."

"Maybe the bone is out of alignment."

"I'm not going to DNF. I will walk the rest of the 30 hours if I have to," I exclaimed defensively

"Of course. I understand. Look, do you have Tylenol," she asked.

"I think so."

"Take three or four Tylenol. This summer when I did Run Hope, I got this really sharp knee pain and I thought I was finished. I took some Tylenol and the pain went away. I was able to keep running and we took care of the knee. Take three or four Tylenol. Take them with food and then see how you feel."

"Okay, Lisa."

"Keep it up, kiddo. You are at 40 miles already. You are at that point where things are going to start to hurt. Just keep moving. Run what you can. If it hurts less to run the uphills, then run the uphills. You can zig-zag on the trail so your weight doesn't come down directly on your knee."

"Thank you, Lisa."

Ice bath to heal my legs. This recovery method was taught to me by Lisa Smith-Batchen. It works.

We hung up. It was nice to just hear her friendly voice. I did what she told me: at the next aid station, I popped four Tylenol and headed out once again on the trail. I could still feel the pain in my knee. I would run some, and the pain would swell, and then I would stop and power-walk. Run, then walk, then run some more. On and on it went.

By mile 50, I was starting to get a bigger appetite. Before the race, I had assembled and cut up several peanut and apple butter sandwiches on flaxseed bread. I downed a quarter of sandwich every now and then, but for the most part, I stuck to gels and Heed to get my calories. At one aid station, a woman cut up some avocado for me after I told her I was vegan. Each time I went by that particular aid station, she would have avocado ready for me, saying, "Here you go, Vegan Boy!" I downed the delicious, rich-sweet flesh of the fruit and continued down the trail.

Eventually, I heard a man's voice on the trail that sounded so familiar. I knew I had heard it before, but I couldn't place where. Then, I saw him. Just ahead of me. A short, small-framed man with gray hair and thick mustache.

"Bob Becker, is that you," I called out.

He turned around. "Yes it is!"

I had talked to Bob on the phone a few weeks earlier. Bob is a fixture in the ultrarunning world. Director of the Keys 100 Ultramarathon in Florida, he is a tough-as-nails guy with an impressive resume of ultra feats. Bob helped me out a while back on a paper I was writing for law school. I was interviewing race directors about how to put on an ultramarathon for my sports law class. My topic: the legal aspects of putting on an ultra trail race. Bob was gracious enough to share his wisdom.

"You don't remember me, but you helped me out a while back with my sports law paper," I began.

"Of course I remember you!"

We ran together for quite a bit, chit-chatting about this and that. Sometimes he would run a bit ahead of me and I would fall behind, only to pass him up a little farther down the trail. Back and forth we went, from aid station to aid station, swapping friendly encouragements as we passed. It was nice. And I enjoyed his company very much.

Before long, I noticed that the pain in my knee had subsided. It was completely gone! The Tylenol had worked its magic. I could run again! Sure, my quads were burning and my feet were aching, but that kind of pain was tolerable, expected. This renewed liberation lightened my spirits. I felt like I was invincible, on top of the world. I took off at a steady pace.

On the trail, I bumped into Shannon Farrar-Griefer. Shannon is an ultrarunner out of California. She is also the founder and owner of Moeben sportswear line. I first met Shannon in 2010, when I first attempted Rocky Raccoon 100 (I DNF'd that year at mile 66). I was running at night and I tripped on a root and fell. She helped me to my feet and asked me if I was okay. I ran with her for a bit, bitching about the falls I was taking. "Don't worry, I've had my share of falls, too," she assured me. It wasn't until after the race that I realized Shannon was quite a figure in thee ultrarunning community. Mother of three, she has completed Badwater five times and was the first woman to complete the Badwater double. Shannon was here for her for her sixth Rocky Raccoon 100 finish. When we saw each other on the trail, we hugged and gave each other words of encouragement as we each ran towards our respective fates on the course.

The sun had already set. When I came in for my third loop (mile 60), I met up with Joe Barber. Joe had agreed to pace me from mile 60 to 100. He is from San Antonio, Texas, and I first met him while training for Cactus Rose 100 in 2010. Joe was set to run Cactus, but he pulled out just before the race because he was busy getting ready for his wedding! He works as a fitness trainer for the U.S. Army and has raced marathons and triathlons for over seven years. Joe was ready to run by the time I got into the aid station.

At first it was all fun and games. We talked and joked a lot as we ran into the night. He asked me questions about my training. I tried to respond briefly. It became increasingly difficult to concentrate on the trail and hold a conversation at the same time. Eventually, I got so fatigued, all I could do was listen to him talk. Gradually, my run devolved into a slow and tiresome walk. The night was in full bloom, and my spirits were depleted. I knew that this fourth loop was going to be the most psychologically taxing. Lisa had told me beforehand not to think that way.

"If you think it's going to be your worst loop, then you can bet it is going to live up to your expectations. Don't think that way. Make it your best loop," she urged.

I tried to stay optimistic, but no matter how much I told myself I wasn't tired, I could feel exhaustion taking over. The soreness in my legs creeped into my brain. Slowly, the pain trickled into my consciousness, invading my thoughts and suffocating my optimism. I wanted to quit. Joe noticed my dangerous silence and he at once snapped me out of it.

"We need to keep running," he told me. "I want you to do four minutes of running and one minute of walking," he instructed.

"Okay," I said.

We took off running. It was a slow and painful run. It took every ounce of effort to put one foot in front of the other. My quads were screaming. My calf muscles were begging for mercy. Keep running. One more minute. Thirty more seconds. Then, we walked.

"Four more minutes. Come on! Four more minutes," he called out.

I obliged. The four minutes seemed to go on for an eternity. Then I walked for the shortest minute of my life. I relished every second of that minute of walking, but before long it was time to run again.

"Four more minutes. Come on! Four minutes, man!"

I began to thoroughly abhor Mr. Joe Barber. The man obviously didn't understand the pain I was in.

"Come on, dude! Two more minutes of running!"

The man is trying to kill me. That much is obvious, I thought.

He made me run up hills and down, flats and root-covered sections. The routine of 4-1-4-1 was relentless. Never-ending. Run. Then walk. Then run some more. I felt trapped in the ruthlessness of it all. On and on it went, all night long, an endless string of run/walk alternations. Throughout the whole ordeal, I hardly spoke a word.

At the aid station at mile 70, I noticed a small stinging sensation on the side of my left foot. I sat down in one of the chairs and took off my trail shoe. When I pulled the sock down, I noticed a big red blister on the side of my heel.

"Hey Joe, look at this."

"We have to pop it," he said.

"Why?" I didn't want to pop it. I felt like any pain in my feet I could deal with.

"We have to pop it because if we don't it might pop in the shoe and make a big mess," he explained. "Better to pop it now and get it out of the way."

He got a safety pin from the volunteers at the aid station and pricked away. A brilliant little streak of pus fluid jet-sprayed out of the blister. I laughed, unable to contain myself. It was so absurd. Only in a sport this wacky could I induce this man, a total stranger, really, to squat down over my stinky feet in the middle of the night to pop an ugly blister on my foot. I think he recognized the ridiculousness of the situation, too, because he started laughing as well. He wiped the skin area with a baby wipe and I put my shoes back on.

Post-race feet.

Before long, we were back on our run/walk schedule.

As we came in for our fourth loop (mile 80), I was thoroughly discouraged. My feet were killing me, but that wasn't too big of a deal. What sucked the most was that I was just so psychologically down in the dumps. I couldn't muster up any optimism. I needed some relief. Anything to pick me up out of this dull funk. So, I did something kind of risky.

"Hand me my bag," I told Clarissa

She brought it over and I reached down for my old Asics shoes.

"My feet are hurting in this trail shoes I'm wearing. These old Asics are comfortable. I'm gonna change into them," I explained.

As I picked up the beat-up pair of old Asics (a road running shoe), I noticed a pair of fresh socks.

"What the hell. Might as well change socks, too. These DryMax socks I'm wearing aren't really holding up too well anyway. They are all wet."

The pair I was putting on was brand new. They were folded neatly in their packaging. Joe and Clarissa looked on as I fumbled with the sock.

"You've never worn those socks before," he asked.

"No, actually. I haven't. To tell you the truth, I've never even tried this brand before."

The socks I was referring to were Injinji Toesocks. I picked them up at the running store a few days before the race and had never used toesocks before.

"Is this a bad idea," I asked Joe.

"Well, maybe. You don't know if the socks will work for you."

"What's the worst that can happen," I asked.

"Worst case scenario, the sock could keep slipping under your heel and -"

"Look," I interrupted him. "Worst case scenario, these socks cause my feet to hurt more. My feet already hurt. What's a little more pain, right? No matter what, I'm finishing this race. Trust me, I am not going to stop just because my feet hurt."

We set off on our final loop. By this point my Garmin watch had died, so I had no idea how long it was from one aid station to the next. That's a hard thing to handle when you are living from aid station to aid station. Eventually, your thinking becomes very single-track: where is that stupid aid station already!

By mile 90, I was so tired that I was nearly falling asleep on the trail. Joe was falling asleep, too. He was swerving off trail like a drunk driver until he would smack into a tree. On and on it went. When the sun came up, I felt so disconcerted. The thing that brought me to was the sight of that beautiful lake, the steam rising off it like a eerie specter. As we came to the lake, the sun was just rising over it, causing me to squint in the brilliance of the sunlight. I had made it through the night. I knew the end was near. But, the task at hand was far from finished.

With Clarissa. Immediately after crossing the finish line.

At mile 96, he left me. He said he had to get home for a Super Bowl party that he and his wife were throwing. Joe, my pacer, had to leave. I felt kind of devastated. Abandoned. Would I be able to make it on my own? I had serious doubts. Four miles seemed like an eternity. I looked around. There was no sign of any other runner. I didn't know what happened to Dave, Lee, Steven, Bob, or Shannon. I took off from the aid station, that last, final aid station. I felt alone. Just four more miles.

I called Lisa.

"Savor it," she told me. "Use this time to reflect on everything you have accomplished and savor this final, miserable process."

Before long, four miles became three. Three miles became two.

My phone rang. It was Dave Carder.

"Did you finish," came his happy voice.

"I'm at mile 98," I told him.

"Wow! Keep moving," he exclaimed. Dave told me he dropped from the race. I was saddened by this. I eventually found out that Steven, Lee, and Shannon had dropped from the race as well. I want nothing more than for my friends to have a successful race. But, these ultra runs are not always about finishing. The end is not the most important goal in ultrarunning. The journey is what matters most. Each of my friends had embarked on their own special journey. Mine was not over. Not yet. Keep moving. I started to run.

Each step was kind of miserable, but I could practically smell the finish line. I wound and twisted my way through the trail in the woods. The sun beat down on my brow, and I felt a glorious rush of excitement. My legs kicked up faster. Soon, I was running at what felt like full speed towards the end. The trees whipped past me. The pine-needle covered ground flowed beneath my feet. I could hear commotion in the distance. Voices. As I rounded the corner, I saw it. The finish. Straight ahead of me. About a hundred feet away. I mustered what strength I had left and I took off. The pain in my legs gave way to a kind of bliss. There was Clarissa. She was cheering me on. There were the race directors. They were holding the buckle. My buckle. With fury, pain, pride, happiness, humility, grace, and a thoroughly grateful heart, I crossed that finish line.

Me crossing the finish line.

For Part 1 of this race report, click here. For Part 2, click here.

Fellow endurance warrior got her angel wings today...

On January 2, 2011, I posted an open letter from Lisa Smith-Batchen. In it, Lisa talked about her friend, Balei Chinski. Balei had been in the hospital since early December. She suffered a burst brain aneurysm and was in a coma for five days. When she finally came out of the coma, she was so weak that it was difficult for her to even talk. She would scream out in pain because her head hurt so much.

Those who loved her could do nothing to ease her suffering. Balei's mother, Cheryl, watched her little girl go through operation after operation, hoping things would change for the better. She watched her baby endure so much pain. "I am tired of fighting, but you know I will," Balei assured her mom.

Things weren't any easier outside the hospital. Cheryl lost her job. As a single mother, this was a devastating blow. She spent all her time by her child's hospital bedside. Soon, her and her three other daughters became in danger of being kicked out of their apartment complex. Now, they have hardly a dollar to their name.

Friends, sometimes in life it is impossible to understand how or why certain things happen the way they do. We ask ourselves all sorts of questions. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? We feel alone. Abandoned. Helpless in the struggle against insurmountable odds. But, we endure. We continue, strong in our faith that God will see us through the darkness.

Today, January 18, 2011, after 47 days in ICU and 5 brain operations, little Balei passed away. She was just sixteen years-old. This is a devastating time for all whose lives she touched.

I did not know Balei personally. But, Lisa often told me about her friend. She was and is such a powerful and vibrant life force. I call Balei our fellow endurance warrior. That she was. To run 100 miles is nothing compared to what Balei accomplished with her life: she has set for us an example of true faith and courage, an example that we should spend the rest of our lives trying to uphold. You know I will fight, Balei told her mom. This is real endurance.

Now, her family needs your help. Balei deserves to have a memorial service of dignity and grace. We are asking for donations. If you would like to to donate money to pay for Balei's funeral service, please mail a check or money order to the following address:

The Balei Chinski Relief Fund
c/o
Peoples Bank of Kankakee
315 Main St. NW
Bourbonnais Illinois 60914
Phone 815.936.7600
Fax 815.932.5559

I also ask that you pass this letter on to all of your friends and family. Let's support each other in these hard times and remember how precious life is and especially the people we love.

A Call for Help! Please read this...

The following letter comes from Lisa Smith-Batchen. Lisa's friend, a 16 year-old girl, is in dire medical condition. She may be dying. Read below to find out how you can help her and her family get through these terrible ordeals.

Dear endurance friends!!!

Please take a few moments to sit down and read this letter, it comes
with a very heavy heart and one I have been thinking about for several days.


On Dec. 28th I will have my foot operated on. During my 2,500 mile run
this summer it broke and a tendon was torn. I have spent 6 months in a
boot or cast to heal it and it has not healed. The lessons continue. I
have been a bit stressed out this part week thinking about being put to
sleep, the surgery and the pain of the foot coming back. It sure is
different for most of us when we are on mile 200 and the pain is something we
can bare because we are the one in charge and in control of it.
We are the ones who allow the pain and know what is needed to "just deal with it"

ALL of you have done absolutely amazing endurance events, you have
endured what most people can not comprehend and what most people would
never even consider doing.

ALL of you inspire me and inspire so many to do and be better at most
everything life has to offer.

ALL of you have such talent to use your body, mind, spirit and soul to
move to places of the unknown.



My good friend Jim Simone who is one amazing endurance athlete
introduced me a friend of his Cheryl (a single mother) and her 4
beautiful daughters. They drove all the way from Chicago and spent a
week with us here in the Tetons.Needless to say if you met this
beautiful family you would fall in love with them as we did.

Balei, Cheryl's daughter who turned 16 on Oct. has been going through
the biggest endurance challenge of her life and she needs our help, her family needs our help..
On Dec. 4th, 2010 Balei complained on a headache and nausea. Hours later she was rushed to
University Chicago Corner Childrens Hospital. Balei suffered a burst brain aneurysm and was in a coma for 5 days
. In critical condition ICU Balie has gone through 3 brain surgery since then and the last one was today.
They discovered the fluid leaking from the brain was meningitis!


Balei nick name is Sassy, she is one of the most amazing, kind, giving,
generous kids I have ever met. She was the one at our home trying to
rally everyone to plays games, go on hikes, dance, sing and just live
life for the moment. I was so impressed with her ability to inspire and
get my 2 daughters to do about anything she ask of them!

The hospital staff says that Balei is the inspiration that keeps them
going right now...even when she is screaming in pain because her head
hurts so much anyone who comes into her hospital room she finds a place
to tell them she loves them, Merry Christmas.

Balie told her mother Cheryl "I tired of fighting but you know I will."


Balies voice is weak and most of the time very hard to understand her at all. I have spoken to her several times in the past few weeks even if they just put the phone to her ear so she could hear what I had to say. What I have said to Balie is that she is my hero, she is my courage. What she is going through and enduring is far greater then anything I have personally ever even been close to experiencing. A hero she is for her undying love, giving and inspiration to fight.

In the past few days, Cheryl, Balei's mother was fired from her job, she is about to lose the family's apartment and they have less then $100 to there name. Cheryl spends every waking moment with Balei and her other girls.

How can so much happen to one person and the family all at once? The
answer may never be known.

This morning I went for a walk at 2 am, I could not sleep thinking about my phone call the night before with Jim..the trials and struggles of Balei, Cheryl and their beautiful family.

It took me 40 min. to walk 1 mile because my foot is in so much pain and the limp has caused my hip to hurt.

Last night we got 1 foot of fresh snow, the sky was amazing. I fell to
my knees in the snow and just starting to cry. I thought about Mother Mary and Jesus...it reminds me of Mother Cheryl and Balei.

Sister Marybeth was the first person I called when I found out I have to have my foot operated on. Her words to me were short, sweet and full of wisdom, as always.

"Lisa, God has something else for you to do right now. Sit quiet and
listen."

It became clear to me this morning that my 2,500 mile run through the
USA was not over. Many more lessons to learn and so many children and
people to help.

I may not be able to run but I can sure continue to help and spread hope.


I am asking for your help! Helping one child at a time, one person at a
time. "Alone we can do so little, together we can do so much".

Help Balei and her family win this endurance race, help get the word out to all your endurance friends. Helping Balei helps me, it helps you, it helps all who step forward.

It helps us all come to realize that we are in this together and that we all do make a difference, we can make a difference.

When it is your turn for me to help you...you know I will.

Consider sending this letter to all your endurance friends and ask them
to please consider making a donation of even $10 to help Balei and her
family right now.

The Balei Chinski Relief Fund
c/o
Peoples Bank of Kankakee
315 Main St. NW
Bourbonnais Illinois 60914
Phone 815.936.7600
Fax 815.932.5559
People can send tax DEDUCTABLE donations to the bank or contact them
for more info.

Or you can send a check to the Dreamchaser Foundation 100% OF ALL
MONEY WILL GO TO HELP BALEI AND HER FAMILY

po box 1200
Driggs, Idaho 83422
In the subject area write: Balei

Thank you for your consideration.

May your days be filled with love, joy, hope, faith and wonder

Lisa Smith-Batchen

Running for a Cause: Lisa Smith-Batchen's Journey Across America (Part 3)

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. The flow of the cool water around her legs transported her away, far away, from Rockville, Maryland. The throbbing in her feet and calves gradually melted. She closed her eyes and she was home. Her husband and two daughters were standing in the hallway of their house in Idaho. Gabriella and Anabella ran to her with beaming faces as she knelt down and held out her arms to receive them. “I’ve missed you” she whispered. “We missed you, too, mommy,” they said as they buried their faces in her embrace. Jay came over and wrapped his arms around his family. She could have stayed this way forever. Right here. A perfect, happy moment.

When Lisa Smith-Batchen opened her eyes she was still standing in the creek. I have promises to keep. She stood still and listened to the sounds of the woods around her. There came the music of the gently babbling stream and, in the distance, the drawn-out, high-pitched call of a female Wood Duck. The wind stood still and Lisa listened to her own breathing. The day was now over, and it all came flooding back to her: you just ran another 50 miles. Suddenly, the pain returned full-throttle. “God,” she called out, and she plopped down listlessly. Miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

The water was filthy, but she didn't care. It was a sweltering afternoon – quite unbearable, really. Her shirt clung to her body as the heat radiated across her salt-caked skin. But that wasn’t really what was getting her down at the moment. She was lost. She had already run 600 miles, and although she was done for today, Lisa had somehow missed the trail head to get back to the RV camper. She heard one of her crew say that they must have gone off course by about two miles. Two extra miles seemed like an insurmountable distance at the moment.

Looking down, she could see the wavering outline of her blue Crocs in the yellow-brown water. People had asked her why she ran in Crocs. To be honest, they were just really comfortable. She put an insole in them, wore two or three pairs of socks for padding and she was good to go. Comfy, indeed. But, right now, she might as well have been running in high heels, her feet hurt so much. She closed her eyes again and sat perfectly still in the muddy creek.

“You okay?” Mike Evan’s voice fell muffled on her ears. Her loyal friend, affectionately called Spud by the rest of the crew, stood watching from the rocky bank. Lisa could hardly bring herself to answer. Am I okay? Probably not, Mike. It was hard to see the silver lining. Things just weren't clicking. She wasn't getting into the groove of it. On top of that, it seemed Marshall had been wrong.

Her good friend, Marshall Ulrich, the Endurance King himself, had said she would need to be patient, that the first ten states would be especially tough. On the eleventh day, he informed her, she would fall into the routine of the journey and things would start to get easier. He should know; in 2008, at age 57, he completed his 3,000 mile run across America in just 52.5 days, breaking two transcontinental speed records. Marshall knew that at some point the body learns to adapt to what you put it through. When you run 50 miles a day, everyday, like Lisa was doing, your body needs time to process the abuse you are subjecting it to. Eleven days. That was the magic number. What the hell was the problem then? She hung her head in despair.

Maybe the training wasn’t enough. Lisa had built her entire training regimen around the eleven-day principle. To prepare for the project, all Lisa did was walk around her hometown of Driggs. She threw in some weekly workouts to strengthen her core, but she hardly did any running. Knowing that her body would eventually get used to running such a high daily mileage, she did not want to get into endurance-level shape prior to the start of her journey, only to be overtrained midway through and suffer some kind of overuse injury. Better to start off in good shape, but not in great shape, and gradually get fitter as the run progressed. In theory, she should have been in top physical form by now.

Did I mess up by not training harder? Lisa tossed that thought right out the window. She knew it wasn’t true. In reality, walking and core exercises were just the tip of the iceberg. Her whole life had been preparing her for this run. It honestly felt like she had spent her entire athletic career training for this. Thinking back to all the tears, all the sweat and blood of all her previous athletic endeavors, she realized a simple truth that filled her with a tremendous sense of courage: no matter what happened, she was and always would be Lisa Smith-Batchen. An obvious fact, sure. But there was profound comfort in it; in difficult situations, it helps to remind yourself who you are. Lisa knew what she was capable of. She was a person who loved deeply and was loved. Her power was within.

Yes, this was tough. And, yes, she was going to some dark places, emotionally. However, she had traveled across the barren landscape of dark human emotion before and she knew what to expect. Things would get better. Marshall was right. Patience is crucial. Persistence is key.

Yet, sometimes it is necessary to be flexible as well. Take the donuts for example. Starting off, Lisa had decided to keep true to her nutrition principles and eat only good, whole foods – things like avocados, tomatoes, and beans. She quickly realized that wouldn’t be enough. After adhering to her strict diet for a few states, Lisa realized she needed calorie-dense foods, high in fat and sugar, to fuel her body. At the sip of her first milkshake, she perked up immediately. When she bit into a glazed donut, it was like somebody was charging her up, like a car being filled with gas. People in each state would show up to run with Lisa, and when they saw her eating the sugary confections, word got around that she eats donuts and drinks milkshakes. Alert the press!

Soon people from all over, total strangers, were bringing her boxes and boxes of the fried goodies. Amusing as it was to be thought of by random people as some kind of donut junkie, the whole episode merely reinforced the flexibility principle: nothing is certain. Like life, running is not an exact science. The trick is to not let it throw you off. You have to take what's happening in stride, make the changes necessary, say positive, and keep going. Make lemons into lemonade, she told herself. The willingness to alter the way you are doing things, to modify your strategy when things aren’t going as planned, is such a key tenet for ultrarunners. Change is good. In fact, it's inevitable.

If things weren’t looking good right now, right at this moment, as Lisa sat in the Creek o’ Filth, she simply had to try and see things in a different light. The power was indeed within.

She thought of the children that she was running to raise money for. She thought of her family.

Get up.

She was done for the day. Another 50 miles down and she was closer now to her goal. Her dream of dreams was being actualized. Had she ever felt more alive than now?

Get up.

A joy filled her heart. Lisa couldn’t wait to get back to the RV camper and lay in her bed, down a milkshake, and get some rest. A donut sounded good. Two miles was nothing.

Get up.

She knew eventually would get up from the water and walk back to the RV. Her crew stood around, ready to tend to her needs. A few minutes passed. The sounds of nature floated all around her. She was at peace.

Slowly, quietly, Lisa rose to her feet.


This article is part of a series that will be published on a monthly basis. Stay tuned for more of Lisa's incredible story! Click here if you missed Part 1 and Part 2 of Lisa's story.

Cactus Rose 100 Race Report (Part 1)

As I write this, I am listening to Laura Nyro's "Save the Country" - a great song by a great artist - and I am struck by a particular verse:

I got fury in my soul./Fury's gonna take me to the glory goal.

I dig it. I, too, have fury in my soul, and after this past weekend's DNF (stands for "Did Not Finish") at the Cactus Rose 100 Mile Trail Run, I am more determined than ever to become the best ultrarunner I can be.

How can I express all the things that are running through my mind - the anger, the pride, the joy, the sadness? I'm a bundle of emotion, all tightly bound together, with no way to exorcise the pain or get away from it. But, I'm okay with that. I don't want to avoid the agony. It's characteristic of ultrarunners, I think, to face pain and process it, embrace it and learn from it.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Can you run 5 miles in an hour?" The question was sort of laughable. Of course I couldn't. I had been running for well over 75 miles. My quads were screaming. I could feel two big blisters on the bottoms of my feet. I just wanted to stop. But something told me not to throw in the towel. Here I was at the main aid station (nicknamed "The Lodge") which served as the start and end of each 25-mile loop. I had taken a shortcut from Boyles to The Lodge to call it quits. There was no way I was going to make it the five miles from Boyles to the Lodge in time to make the cutoff. No way. The officials at the Lodge looked at me with concern.

After being lost in the Bandera wilderness for nearly six hours, I had finally made it to Boyles. I wasn't injured and I was in fairly good spirits. But, I had spent so much time being lost, wandering aimlessly through the nasty, rugged trails of the Texas Hill Country that I now had only an hour to make it to the main aid station to meet the cutoff time to start the fourth and last loop of the race. Why did I take the shortcut back here to the main aid station to quit instead of just running the damn five miles? Was I really a quitter? Did I not have the right stuff, the stuff to finish? It was just five miles. Oh, but what a five miles! If you've ever run the trails of the State Natural Area in Bandera, Texas, you know how grueling those five miles can be.

The terrain is rocky, unforgiving, and extremely technical. There are almost no flat running sections. You are either clamoring uphill or tearing, trying not to tumble, downhill. I hear it is one of the toughest race courses in the country. Five miles in one hour? I don't think so. When I realized the certainty of my defeat, I walked the quarter-mile shortcut back to the Lodge to tell them I was going to have to quit. But, something felt wrong just giving up like that. I had worked so hard to get to this point. All my training, all my time and energy and money... I couldn't let it all go to waste. Besides, I felt pretty damn good. Aside from my legs being a little sore and my feet hurting, I was in great shape. I had to give it my best shot. I snapped.

"Drive me back to Boyles. I'm going to do the five miles," I said.

"Okay, but you have to make it back here by 7:15 a.m. to start the next loop," the race official told me.

"I understand."

I stuffed my pockets with energy gels and PB&J sandwiches and refilled my water bottles. I jumped in the passenger side of a truck that pulled up and got a ride back to Boyles. Once there, I very quickly jumped out of the truck and began ascending Boyles Bump, a grisly little 300-foot climb. Then, I shot down the side of the hill, only to encounter another hard climb, a repulsive roller called Cairn's Climb. I ran like I've never run before. I was bawling. Angry tears fell hot down my cheeks. I knew it was all in vain. No matter how hard I pushed, I knew I probably would not make it in time. But, I had to try. The sun was coming up now. The fiery red of the horizon struck me as an odd sight to behold, reinforcing a startling fact: I had been running for over 24 hours straight.

Those five miles stretched on forever. I had a lot of time to think out there. Mostly I thought of my friends and family. I thought of Steven Monte, Dave Carder, Lee Irons, and Lynnor Matheney, who were also running the race and who, I knew, were out there somewhere, in pain, like me. I thought of my dad, who, just a few weeks earlier had his leg amputated due to complications from diabetes and who wanted to be there to support me at the race so badly that he mustered the strength and courage to make the trip to Bandera just to see me run.

I thought of my mom, the strongest person I know, who has loved and supported me through all my triumphs and failings and who, I knew, would be there for me at the finish line no matter what. I thought of my sister, who brings joy to my heart even in the darkest of times. I thought of my friend Aleia, paradigm of loyalty and love.

I thought of Lisa Smith-Batchen, one of the most amazing athletes I know of, a strong and loving person, who has accomplished so much and who will always remain my greatest inspiration. I thought of Shannon Farrar-Griefer, a badass ultrarunner and beautiful woman, whose determination to endure is nothing short of amazing. I thought of Eric Clifton, an uncompromising athlete, who runs the way he wants to - fast - and will settle for nothing less than his very best in a race.

I thought of all these people. And I kept running. Always, always, moving forward...

Part 2 to be posted soon.

Running for a Cause: Lisa Smith-Batchen's Journey Across America (Part 2)

"Say something." The cameraman did one last sound check before he started recording. Lisa had never had so much media attention in her life. It seemed as if nowadays someone was always sticking a camera in her face. First, there was the Good Morning America show, and she was still scheduled to appear on CNN and plenty other news programs throughout the country, not to mention all the people who came out with their own camera equipment, wanting to get a picture with the woman running through America. Lisa looked around her. The cool light of the early morning augmented the feeling of unreality. The world seemed calm and tranquil, but her soul burned with such passion and excitement. She stood at the precipice, the beginning of something big.

Was she really standing here in Morristown, New Jersey, talking to the camera? Were all these people here to see her? Home was over 2,500 miles away now. The thought made her shiver slightly. She stuck her gloved hands in her jacket pockets.

"Why are you doing this," the interviewer asked her.

For a second, she was at a loss for words. Lisa couldn't process fast enough all the things she was feeling. She glanced over at Sister Mary Beth, dressed in her full black habit. She was busy talking with a group of people who had shown up to run. Part of the order of the Religious Teachers Filipini, Sister Mary Beth had to wear her black wool tunic and headpiece at all times, even while running. Lisa noted her friend's blue Pearl Izumi running shoes. The Running Nun. Lisa smiled to herself: it felt so good to know that Sister Mary Beth was with her, supporting her wholeheartedly. It filled her with resolve.

"I'm running for orphans all over the world," she told the interviewer.

Sister Mary Beth taught Lisa the incomparable joy of running for a purpose, running for a something besides personal gratification. Helping others became the motivating force behind her athletic endeavors; indeed, it was the driving philosophy of her daily life. People run for many different reasons. Some people run to lose weight. Others run for peace of mind. Lisa ran to help the less fortunate. All the money raised during this project would go to two charities: AIDS Orphans Rising and the Caring House Project. Her focus was on helping children.

Lisa thought of her own two daughters. Little Annabella and Gabriella. She imagined them asleep in bed right now. Soon they would be waking up to go to school. She wanted more than anything to be there to kiss them when they woke. It had crossed her mind to bring them along, but she felt it was important to maintain a stable atmosphere for them; her and her husband, Jay, had talked about it. They decided it was best not to disrupt their daughters' lives during this project any more than what was absolutely necessary.

In truth, she was also running with them in mind. When she envisioned their beautiful faces, she couldn't help but think of the thousands of children out there with no home and no one to look after them, no one to hold them when they got scared, no one to tell them how wonderful they are and how much they are loved. No one who cared. But, Lisa did care. She aimed to provide these children with food, clothing, shelter and educational opportunities. To give hope. This was her mission, pure and simple, deep and true.

It wouldn't be easy; she knew that much. It would be painful as hell.

One million dollars. That's how much money she wanted to raise. It was an ambitious goal, to be sure. Several people told her it couldn't be done. But, she had faith. She had thought about it long and hard. Some nights, months earlier, while her husband and kids slept soundly, Lisa tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. She kept turning the number over and over in her mind, feeling its contours like a stone in hand. Heavy. Solid. Smooth. One million dollars. It seemed so possible. Her logic was this: if she got the word out about her project to a million people, and each of those people gave just one dollar, she would reach her goal. Pretty simple. One dollar didn't seem like such an impossible thing to expect of people.

Lisa finished the interview and went to join her crew. Mike, Mary Ann, and Ashley were setting up supplies by the camper. It was time to start running. Everyone huddled around for a group prayer. Sister Mary Beth took her place next to Lisa. Everyone who showed up to run came together and stood silent. Gathered in a circle, they all bowed their heads and offered up their petitions. Family, friends, and even complete strangers united, hand-in-hand, on that chilly morning in Morristown. It was April 19, 2010. The sun was peaking over the horizon. It promised to be a beautiful day. With one last look around at all the new and familiar faces of the people who were making her dream come true, Lisa took the first step of her journey...

This article is part of a series that will be published on a monthly basis. Stay tuned for more of Lisa's incredible story! Click here if you missed Part 1 of Lisa's story and here for Part 3.

Buffalo Spings Lake - Hill Training for Cactus Rose 100

The real hills of Lubbock are at Buffalo Springs Lake, about five miles outside the city limit. Lubbock is pretty much a pancake, but if you drive out to the lake, you will find that the earth suddenly and unexpectedly dips down to form a beautiful canyon. They have fishing, boating, dirt bike riding, hiking, swimming, etc. I went for the hills.

My friend Alec Pourteau told me about this place, and Lisa Smith-Batchen urged me to get my butt out there to do some real hill training for Cactus Rose. She has trained on these hills before, having spent some time in Lubbock. She said the hills were big. Boy, she wasn't kidding!

I found that most of the hills were formed by the trail traversing the the edge of the canyon, that part where the earth dips down. The wonderful thing was that the trails were nice and rocky, similar to the terrain in Bandera. It is good training. I managed to take my camera with me on one of the loops and I snapped some photos of the trails. Here they are:

You start down in the canyon, by the lake. In order to get up to the trails at the rim of the canyon, you have to hike back up one of these steep trail heads. They are somewhat treacherous, with loose, rocky footing. But, I realized that if you hesitate with your footing too much, you are more likely to slip. The best way to get up these things, I think, is to bound up them as fast as you can. Stay light on the feet! Getting back down is the tricky part. I had to get on my ass on some parts and scoot down little by little. It's that steep.

Once you are on the rim of the canyon, the real fun begins. For here are the trails!



The trails are very scenic, too! Lots of interesting sights. From cool rock formations...

...to broken bridges...

...to beautiful flora...




Some flora is downright dangerous!

But, the best part of the Buffalo Springs Lake experience is this monster hill I found. I turned my head and was like, hello! I had to go up it!

At the top! Victory!

So if you are ever in the area, head on over to Buffalo Springs Lake! It is so worth it. I, for one, plan on doing a lot more training runs there!