The Shirt off My Back...and Ultrarunning

For some odd reason, today I thought of some running gear that I gave away a couple years ago at the Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run. I ran this race in 2010, and had the race of my life, clocking a 22:35, placing 56 of 133 finishers (yay, me!).

So I have some very fond memories of this race.  The format is eight 12.5 loops, so you pass the start/finish line every loop.  For me, this was not as psychologically difficult as one might think it would be.  Actually, I think the multi-loop format was easier on me mentally--I got to know the course, got more and more familiar with it each pass, knowing what to expect, etc.

As I was getting ready in my cabin before the race, one of my cabin mates swore and said he'd forgotten to pack gloves.  Now it was in the upper 30s as I recall, definitely glove weather.  I always overpack, so I tossed him a spare pair and told him he could get them back to me after the race when we were packing up.  As it turned out, I forget whether he or I finished first, but for whatever reason our paths did not cross afterwards, so my gloves went home with him.

After I finished and was collecting my drop bags, I saw a young guy--mid 20s--who still had another loop to go.  He was inside the large race HQ building, trying to gather his will and his gear to run the last 12.5 miles.  He was cold and was looking for his tights.  I don't recall if he didn't pack them intentionally, or forgot them.  Regardless, he needed a pair, and I had a spare unused pair in my bag. 

So I handed them over to him and told him good luck.  He asked how he'd get them back to me; given the situation, I knew it'd be tough to delay him further right then to exchange contact info, so I just told him it was no big deal, just keep the tights.

So a couple of my running things wound up elsewhere.  I hope they served well and continue to be part of a runner's gear, wherever they are.  The point of the story is not that I was a nice guy (although that's true!).  Rather, it's the spirit of camraderie that pervades this sport.  I have no doubt that if I were short some item, somebody there would have fixed me up.  It's just the nature of Ultrarunners.

 

Farewell, Halloween...and Ultrarunning

Sorry for the semi-blurriness, but my camera had a hard time figuring out which spot to auto-focus upon in the dark.

I've carved this particular jack-o-lantern a couple times.  It's actually quite easy and gives a pretty striking result. I always cut out the bottom of the pumpkin for access rather than a plug out of the top, but when a friend was over the other day she had never heard of doing that.

I don't know whether top- or bottom cutting is normal, but since I cut the bottom out, I suspect that top-cutting must be the norm.

Oh, and the nexus to Ultrarunning?  Very little, truth be told, except that for some inexplicable reason, I want to link it to what we wear on the trail.

For many of us, our running outfits run counter to the norm, like the pumpkin cutting example above.  Comfort and utility trump fashion.  I want my trail outfit not to be the runner's equivalent of LL Bean or Eddie Bauer, but rather a functional get-up that works well across a variety of possible conditions.

That generally means layers, zippers, bandanas, and hats.  Thicker and more of them if it's cold.  Plus I've found that the vest is a remarkably versatile garment that I like to add to my attire if it's cool.

 

I Shop for ALL My Pantyhose at Walmart...and Ultrarunning

In my early Tues run, I commented on the cold conditions and the need to dress extra warmly for the first time this winter.


One of the facts for getting older as a runner—for me at least, though I suspect this in common experience—is that you get cold easier. Up till last year I was fine with “normal” tights from National Running Center or Road Runner Sports or the like. At the end of a run my legs might be red under the tights, but I never really felt cold per se.

Well, last year saw me do some heroic training under crappy winter conditions, and my legs did in fact get cold. So rather than buy a heavy-duty pair of running tights to the tune of $40-$60, I decided to layer up. The bride and I headed to Wal-Mart. I know, they are the essence of corporate badness and I try not to shop there, but this was an emergency of sorts.

I was looking for the heaviest pair of women's tights they had, not in the sporting goods or athletic wear area, but in the pantyhose department. I was able to buy a pair of fairly heavy tights for use as an thin first layer, over which I’d wear my real running tights. Better yet, they actually had some tights without feet, ankle length, so I didn’t need to worry about destroying them with my toes.

Well, for yesterday’s run I did the 2-layer thing with the Wal-Mart tights under my running tights. On top I wore my heaviest zippered fleece top. It has a hood, the good feature of which is it has no drawstring—it zips all the way up to my chin, covering the vulnerable neck area and leaving only my face exposed. I wear a baseball cap under it for shade—don’t need a knit cap as the hood is sufficient. Plus the sleeves are a tad long (I usually fold them back an inch or so), meaning that I can retract my gloved hands into the sleeves if it’s really cold.

So, bundled up, I had a great run. See, there’s no such thing as bad weather…only weather for which you are not adequately prepared.