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Tag: Blues Cruise 50K

Ultra Hard – 20 Years of Blues Cruise 50K Preview

Active vs. passive challenges. The hard you choose vs. the hard you don’t. I’m back again for my 12th time at Blues Cruise 50K, the race that started it all. I was trying to figure out what made me take that initial leap of faith to the longer distance. How are things different now, having made that decision? Has it improved my life? That’s what this post will focus on, and why it’s so important to have challenges you choose vs. just the ones life hands you.

2011 – Blues Cruise had a mandatory stream crossing

I think part of it was I was searching for my endurance identity. I wanted to be able to call myself an “ultrarunner.” I had just finished my second Olympic distance triathlon. While they were fun, I never felt comfortable in the water, and a bike accident left me in the hospital for nine days. The first Blues Cruise opened my eyes to a world of adventure on the trails. I had done a handful of trail races, but nothing this long. It was the right amount of hard/uncertain fun, and the idea that some don’t finish really intrigued me. It was a hard I was choosing that most people thought was crazy. My parents were concerned about the distance and how long I was running, which seems hilarious now compared to some of my latest efforts. When others are questioning your life decisions, you know you are going in the right direction. They couldn’t wrap their brains around what was enjoyable about it.

For me, it was the fascination with new details that didn’t exist in any other race I had done before. Food intake, foot care, drop bags? How much pain could I endure? How do you pace this thing? Even as I come back after all this time, pace is one of those things you never know if you have fully dialed in until you’re more than ⅔ into the race. I was so nervous heading into this event, and now to see it morph into a footnote at the end of each season is amazing. This year, I gave it a lot more attention in my training, using lots of vert training and a very detailed plan for this year. I think I am primed to have a “good” year.

The reason this race was so important, like the shorter ones that came before it, was it was a challenge I picked vs. one I did not. There’s a lot of science on taking on challenges you choose; in psychology, it’s called “stress inoculation.” The basic idea: if you face manageable and chosen stress, you get better at handling all kinds of stress. That’s what I have seen in my life. I can’t be fazed by much after being completely drained in some of these events. When you master a hard thing that you willingly took on, you start to believe, “Hey, I can do hard stuff.” That belief has stuck with me, and life just keeps throwing something unexpected. The 50K was that first example of cramping and pain I had NEVER before felt in any event before it.

Ultras are a big part of my happiness, graph from longest running happiness study. Community was the biggest factor

Ultrarunners are experts at choosing suffering on purpose. Training for and finishing races means you’re constantly pushing through discomfort and testing your mental limits. Research has shown athletes have higher pain tolerance and can handle emotional distress better than people who don’t do endurance sports. It’s why sports are such an important part of life, and why it’s important for kids and adults to be involved in them.

I have discovered more about myself in the depths of ultrarunning than in any other activity that I have done. It’s built confidence and a deep sense of community and connection with others who are on the same crazy journey. Some of my best friends I have had were made and met on the trail and in the community.

Blues Cruise showed that if I loaded my year with a bunch of challenges that scared the crap out of me, I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, and kept meeting new people and seeing new places as long as I kept coming back and kept training. I always added Blues Cruise because it was that first important win that sparked many that followed. I kept increasing the challenge until the point at which I have done some amazing races, been to amazing places, and helped amazing people. They are my calling card in ultras; the 100s became part of the hardest things I have done, and there are still so many more to take on. How crazy is it that one simple decision so long ago could have such long-lasting effects? It all started with that first step, that leap of faith to a new distance that seemed crazy. 50Ks are now normal, like a 5K becomes nothing to a marathoner. It’s perspective, it’s relative, but it’s intense at any distance.

Challenges are coming for you regardless. They are coming in all different forms, from ones you choose to ones you do not. Stress is a necessary part of our system, but not too much. Each ultra presents a unique challenge that’s relative to the person, the training they have put in, and the physical state they are in. They all teach the same thing: that constant effort will get you to the finish line. Congrats to anyone who is about to take on Blues Cruise for their first time. They are lucky, because they could be at the doorstep to a life of adventure, friendship, and challenges that will bring them to some amazing places. Have a great race, and I’ll see you on the starting line!

My video back in 2022 when I had a break through performance.

Conquering Ultras: Chris’s First 50K Journey

Blues Cruise has been a staple of my ultrarunning career. I’ve come back to this race 11 times now, and it’s a great way to end my season. For me, the story hasn’t changed much—except this year. This year, I was coming back with my second coached athlete, Chris. This is his story.

I took up coaching last year because I was looking for something new within the confines of the ultra world. Those who are able to teach a subject must know it well. While I am no expert, I am a certified UESCA coach, and have completed several ultras over the past 13 years. Chris came to me intrigued by the distance, and in passing, I mentioned that he could do it if he trained for it. I actually suggested to him that this would be an amazing misogi for him to take on.  The idea around the misogi is you do something so hard one time a year that it has an impact the other 364 days of the year.  You put one big thing on the calendar that scares you, that has a high chance of failure, and go out and do it.  This idea was introduced to me, like it was to many people, from the book “Comfort Crisis.” My firm belief was that anyone could take on and complete a 50K. I knew he was athletic to some extent—an avid tennis player who did yoga once in a while—and he was committed enough to put in the training and succeed come race day. The issue was whether I could convince him of the same thing. The furthest he had ever run in training was a 10K, which he did in high school, and he had never run any farther than that.

Training progressed slowly at first; it was about getting consistent. Most of his runs were completed on a simple 3-mile loop across from his house. A cinder path, it was easy access and comfortable enough for him to complete a few laps and come home. As training progressed, I stressed the importance of race specificity. The race terrain is rocky at times but the vast majority runnable. From the start, he had a very high heart rate for his age, but this was just an indication that aerobic fitness takes time—sometimes years. Training was going to take time before running became “comfortable.”

From there, we moved on to runs at local trails near him, like the Wissahickon and other parks near Lansdale. Trail running was a complete departure from anything he had ever done before. Trail running develops all those tiny muscles in the ankles and feet as you run on surfaces that vary in many ways. Training runs have to match the elevation and terrain type for success on race day, which I stressed knew.

We met up twice for some longer runs, and during those, I conveyed the importance of controlling the variables you have control over: pace, nutrition, and hydration. Those three things are your dials to turn when things get difficult, and sometimes it’s unclear which dial to turn. But that’s what you learn in training. When do I slow down? How many calories per hour? How much fluid should I take in? These were all things that Chris executed on race day, but are specific to him.  It’s one thing to practice them in training, but when it comes to the actual event, it can be difficult to execute, or you just forget as you get caught up in the excitement of the race.

Gait analysis of Chris on the treadmill

In training, we made sure that he was running efficiently. I had him film himself on a treadmill and slow it down using video tools to ensure he maintained good form and body mechanics while running: high cadence, low bounce, standing tall, forward lean, high knees, etc. A new runner will experience growing pains; things hurt if you keep showing up, but it sends a message to the body that you must adapt because the movement is important. It took time, but he slowly built fitness, and his heart rate in training continued to drop, and his form improved.

Chris and I at the start of the race taking in the beauty of the lake

Race Day

I spoke with him after the event and one issue he had were his knees started bothering him after mile 20. He was feeling slight pain, but he pushed through it. He kept running and realized, “Wait, maybe this isn’t an issue.” He said to himself, “What other tricks will my body throw at me to stop?” In a post-race discussion, this showed me he understood the idea that ultras are a mental game. Yes, there’s a lot of physical effort, but at their core, ultras are a deep conversation with yourself and your perceived limits. Limits that were put there BY YOU. Once you shatter those limits, you start to have conversations about potential and where you might go versus where you think you are stuck.

He talked about time dilation in the race, and this is common for most once the pain really kicks in. Minutes seem like hours. The last 20% of an ultra feels just as long as the other 80%. Explaining that to someone can be hard, but when your body is in a constant state of trying to send you a message that you are just NOT listening to, it’s another way it rebels. You will hear people discuss the “flow” state that you need to try to achieve in running, but for those with underdeveloped aerobic systems, the flow state of an ultra doesn’t last as long when new to the sport. Intense pain tends to make staying in that flow state difficult, as its demand for constant attention never seems to waver.

Chris was very efficient at aid stations, spending only 20-30 seconds at most.

One thing I stressed with Chris was mindset, but it’s the hardest thing to train. While on runs with him, we discussed practices similar to meditation, where you bring focus back to the present moment instead of letting it travel ahead or narrowly focusing on just the finish. Focus on the breath, focus on your stride, focus on getting to the next landmark that’s close, or focus on getting to the next aid station. That was the main focus for Chris: to break the race into smaller, manageable chunks. You can’t focus on just the finish line or when the end is going to get here. If you do, there is a negative downward spiral of hope. Our minds are geared for little wins, constantly knowing that these mini battles will lead to a greater victory in the war. It’s almost like a way of affirming yourself constantly; with each win you get in the confines of a race, the end goal seems more attainable.

Your bar is raised by constant daily actions toward a goal you feel you can attain. His path looks nothing like mine, and Chris’s path will look nothing like yours.  We each have a unique experience that brings us to the ultra distance.  What’s great is to see someone else get their first win, their first victory.  He completed his first half marathon in training, then his first marathon, then ultramarathon on race day.  Not many people can say that, or take that much risk, but Chris did.  

Shortly after his finish, a text from Chris.

My final advice for Chris was about Post-Race Depression

It’s normal that once a massive goal is completed, you lose focus. The reason for training becomes vague. What am I fighting for? Why do I need to get back in the gym? It’s normal; a massive goal has been completed, and now our minds want to shift focus toward the next big goal. For him, I recommended two paths going forward: 1) Jump right into a March 50K if he is over the pain of the first experience and wants to keep going, or 2) a trail marathon in April. These were two different choices for keeping forward momentum. It’s a lot harder to get a fire going than it is to keep it burning.  So setting your target on that next race keeps the post-race depression at bay. Finally, I leave you with a favorite quote related to ultras that you will need to remind yourself of daily:

“Learn to love slow progress. Learn to forgive yourself for the inevitable backsliding. And of course, expect to be uncomfortable along the way.”

If you’re interested in coaching – check out my website at UltraRunCoach.com!  

Chris at the finish of his first ultra, the Blues Cruise 50K

Here was my first blog post on Blues Cruise back when the stream crossing wasn’t optional!