Getting Psyched Up

By | 2018-07-17T16:18:51+00:00 July 16th, 2018|Uncategorized|Comments Off on Getting Psyched Up

So, it’s beach week, which means I’m more focused on sun, sand, and booze than running normally. I DID manage to log about 45miles over the last week with a few long and a few short distance runs following the whole beach mentality of “I’m lazy and not waking up until at least 9 a.m.” (Yes, my kids are AWESOME). The only downside is that I wasn’t getting out on the pavement/sand until about 11 a.m–1 p.m., which means it was crazy hot. Like Dante’s Inferno hot. WTForecast told me so. Also, all my pavement runs happened around approximately a 2-mile loop, so there’s that. I did also happen to run through an atmospherically-detonated nuke, which was pretty cool.

— Jessica Carroll

Blake on the Holmes Run Trail in Virginia. Courtesy photo

How Do I Train for an Ultra?

This is a question I have gotten twice in the last week, so I talked to them about it and decided to share it. First, there are many ways to get ready for an ultra, this is just mine. I have a friend that does 20 miles a week and German volume training (weight lifting) to get ready for his 100 milers, and Jessica just runs when she can, with a goal of running “a lot.” That kind of approach would destroy me. My wife has said on more than one occasion that I like to have a plan for when I will be making my plans, which is true. As an example, I know that the week of November 12 I will be building my winter training plan. Having a plan makes me feel comfortable and enables me to just run with no decision fatigue. I wake up, look at the plan, and then just do what it says. My planning method has evolved over the last few years, as I have changed my training due to our daughter, and as I have found what works for me.

The first step is to pick a goal race; I try to pick one four to six months out (this is one macro-cycle). I pick something that inspires and drives me to want to be there. Then I sign up, because I know that once I put down money I am locked in. This drives me to do the training and provides an end point for the plan. I put down a calendar of all of the months between the start of my macro-cycle and the race. I mark my goal race and add in any other races that I might have planned. Because of logistics issues I also add my wife’s races (she is doing the 50-state challenge—run a half marathon in every state) as a note to ensure that I do not double book us. I also add in any work trips, which I attempt to make recovery weeks (because travel workouts are always bad).

Next, I figure out my build-recovery cycles. I have tried a few different cycle types. The most interesting is Matt Dixon’s constant recovery. In his method you work hard for three days and easy for two, constantly taking recovery. I have also tried two/three/four hard weeks, one easy. Over time I have found that three weeks hard and one recovery works well for me.

I start from the goal race and back off my taper period; one week for events under three hours (half marathons, Olympic triathlons), two weeks for under six hours (marathon, 50k, half Ironman), and three weeks for anything else. The taper counts as recovery, so I mark back three weeks of effort, and then each four-week cycle going back to my start day.

I then assign the number of training hours for each week. I can generally do 12 to 14 hours a week. With my recovery weeks being 25% less time than the hard weeks. I have found that for me if I do long runs (4-plus hours) on the weekend, I tend to need a good amount of recovery and I miss out on things at home. So, I went to a more consistent schedule day-to-day with no runs over two hours (this aligns to Jack Daniel’s opinions on training). I have found that I can work in two hours a day before work (6–8 a.m.) and two hours on each day of the weekend. So, to hit a 65-mile week, I will run roughly 9 miles a day during the week and 10 on the weekend.

Each week is a micro-cycle where I try to hit 80% easy aerobic effort (conversational pace) and 20% hard effort (around lactic threshold pace) by time using heart rate as my determining factor. I have determined by aerobic heart rate in three ways: (1) Phil Maffatone’s 180—age + 5 (consistent running), (2) blood testing, and (3) my watch’s algorithm. For me these are pretty consistent (149, 151, 152), so I use that. For a while I tried a few ways to figure out how to get a progressive lactate threshold training plan for my 20% hard. I tried a few that were perceived effort based or a little more open and adaptable (like Matt Fitzgerald’s 80/20 plan, Jason Koop’s Essential Training for Ultra Marathons). I found that because of my analytical nature, I actually really enjoy the Jack Daniel’s 2Q method. This provides me a listing 36 “quality” workouts (two per week) based on my weekly mileage that is designed to be progressive and which for me hits pretty close to 80/20 if I run everything not a Q workout as easy. A sample of a Q session is: 2 miles easy, 2 miles at lactic threshold pace, two minutes recovery, 2 miles at lactic threshold, two minutes recovery, 2 miles easy.

With my lack of a weekly long run, I need to make an effort to keep my long range running endurance and to practice my nutrition for my goal race. So, every other macro-cycle (4 weeks—3 hard, 1 easy) I try to schedule a marathon, 50k or 50-miler that falls in my last hard week of that cycle. This allows me to use my recovery week to rest from the hard effort of that longer run and not worry about missing hard training sessions that would improve my capability.

This process provides me with a listing of what I need to do each week and each day. It gives me confidence that I will be ready for my goal race. The progressive nature of the 20% hard enables my body to train hard while the 20% easy minimizes the chances of injury and keeps me from overtraining.

— Blake Burket

July 11, 2018

Jessica Carroll and Blake Burket (team Suck It Up Buttercup), winners of the 2018 Kahtoola Race for the Rockies. Courtesy photo

It’s been three years since the Kahtoola Race for the Rockies idea light bulb lit up bright above our heads. Three years since we thought it a genius idea to giveaway a team spot to the annual TransRockies™ Run. Three years since we decided to give people who otherwise wouldn’t be sponsored a once-in-a-lifetime chance to toe the line at a majestically located six-day, 120-mile ultra. And three years to tell their stories.

In those three years we’ve had people finish last, offered others their first-ever glimpse at the Colorado Rockies, and made a film about Matt “Wildcat” Muchna and James “Bigfoot” Madson, brothers-in-law who call each other brothers, but it’s weird because James just sleeps with Matt’s sister.

Now entering our fourth race, it’s fair to say this thing sure has taken off. At the end of May we sifted through 200 team entries to arrive at six impressive finalists. But after an interview process that left us with audible expressions of disbelief, foreheads pressed on tables and pens wildly tossed in the air, we could only choose one: Jessica Carroll and Blake Burket’s team Suck It Up Buttercup.

We’ll let them introduce themselves in their own words below, but here’s what we’ve learned so far. They both work long, demanding hours at the Pentagon, each with kiddos, and somewhere between all the insanity they find time to run, train, and compete in ultras. In hearing their stories, we were inspired by their commitment to family and country, but even more they exhibited an infectious team balance that is the perfect mix of offbeat, humble, and genuine.

Beyond that, as you’ll find, they’re VERY different—in a way that is complimentary rather than opposing, like yin and yang, to form a fluid, dynamic system. Where Blake is regimented, Jessica is spontaneous. Where Blake is on-time (or more likely early), Jessica is late. Where Blake is an iron man, Jessica is a cyborg. But, ultimately, they connect through running, showing their kids what’s possible, and beer. When asked how they felt about a Beer Mile, Jessica replied, “Oh my god, yes!” followed by Blake’s resolute, “We can do that.” They both also constantly abbreviate everything and use military time, which has caused chaos in our office and resulted in us hanging a Civilian/Military time conversation chart on the wall. And when it comes to camaraderie on the trail, they maintain that they will institute “monkey backpacks” to drag each other along—whatever that means, we’re still not sure. But we digress …

Appropriately titled the “Getting Psyched Up” blog by Jessica, we’ll be sharing their story and journey and updating this blog over the course of the next several weeks leading up to, during, and after this August’s TransRockies™ Run, so please stay tuned. Kicking things off, we introduce the winners of this year’s Kahtoola Race for the Rockies: Jessica Carroll and Blake Burket. Big congrats to them!

Blake competing in the IRONMAN 70.3 Eagleman Triathlon. Courtesy photo

My running journey began my junior year in high school where I ran a 5k to impress a girl. I still remember how long it felt like it took to finish and how I had to walk parts because I went out too fast. Nothing ever came of it as apparently a 30-plus minute 5k was not very impressive to her. After I joined the Navy and was in college, I ran when I had to. This came out to about three 3-mile runs a week. I was running in order to take our twice-a-year, 1.5-mile physical fitness test. Some guys claimed they were 3-mile-a-year people (1.5 miles × twice per year), but I didn’t have enough native talent to make that work.

The first time I really got to enjoy running was in 2006 while I was deployed for Operation Iraqi Freedom. The base I was stationed on held a 5k/10k every week and it was “the” event to be at. With all of the stress and issues, I suddenly found the runs to be a stress release. I still remember how hard I worked to go from a 1:11 to try to break 1 hour. I never quite succeeded, ending my deployment on a 1:01, but I like to blame the 90-degree (but it was a dry) heat!

Coming back to the world my running fell off and I ran maybe 10 miles per week for the next few years, until 2012 when I was stationed in Seattle where I decided that I would race my first marathon. With a horrid training plan and almost zero real race experience, I showed up before the race to find no one at the starting line (I might have been a bit nervous about being late and showed up an hour ahead of time). Staying there at the line, I hung out until just before the race when all of these slim, fast-looking people showed up next to me. The gun went off and I started running. Everyone was going so fast, so I decided that “must” be how you start a marathon. I think the shock of this chubby guy trying to run at the front shocked the front runners for a few seconds, and I led the Seattle Marathon for about a whole second. Then they were gone and I was getting ready to have a global meltdown at mile 20.

After that I declared myself done with running long distances and went back to my 10 miles a week until my wife and I had a daughter. We had a good number of complications and were in and out of the emergency room five times across the months following her birth. I fell apart, stopped working out, gained weight, and was just trying to take care of the two of them. Then one night, I got frustrated and went outside for a walk to clear my head. Half way down the block something moved me and I started to jog. That jog was all of a mile, but in that moment, I found a moving meditation that called to me. I suddenly felt mentally better and I found a level of joy in running that I had not felt before. I found that I needed to set aside time for me in order to take care of my family.

Over the next year I set a new goal and started to run again. I ran a few local half marathons and was feeling good. I had lost some of the excess weight and was much happier. I started to grow my race distances and found I loved the trails, both the solitude and the camaraderie. In my work life we seek constant improvement, not necessarily large improvement, but constant. I try to follow this philosophy every time I race. I am always trying to be a better version of myself and improve from where I was. I will never be on the podium, but I can always be better than I was. My engineer side loved the training plans and using Excel spreadsheets to track what I was doing and what I had planned. My wife teases me about how my solution to many things is to use Excel to make a spreadsheet (I promise I can stop at any time).

In this time, I have created a list of my top ultra marathons and I am working through them. My first was the Stonemill 50 which grabbed my attention when I read the book My Year of Running Dangerously by Tom Foreman. The second was the Umstead 100, which even with my DNF due to hypothermia at 75 miles was one of the best experiences I have had at a race. My last is the Leadville 100 which I plan on doing in 2019. Leadville grabbed my attention when two friends ran it last year, one as part of the Grand Slam of ultrarunning and the other on his third attempt. Their perseverance and stories combined with the glorious views have captured my imagination. Watching Billy Yang’s The Why just added to my desire. Luckily, Kahtoola is giving me a wonderful chance to do race recon during the TransRockies™ Run.

Then one day I was running at the Pentagon’s indoor one-eighth of a mile track and I saw one of the runners I had a nodding acquaintance with (I nodded when I saw her and she nodded back, the international “hello” of the runner). My wife decided to get back into running and had mentioned she wanted running pants, something I know nothing about not being a woman and not wearing running pants. So, while we were both stretching I asked my nodding acquaintance about her opinion and introduced myself. That person was Jessica. She had noticed my 50-miler shirt and was interested in doing an ultra, so we started talking. Wow, was she ever different from me. I literally have a plan for when I am going to make my plans and I feel uneasy going into big events without one. She gets nervous when you say the word “plan” but is one of the most dedicated hardest training people I know. She sets her mind on something and it is as if an unstoppable cyborg takes over and just does not stop. She has since become one of my closest running friends. She volunteered to pace me at my first 100 miler and I volunteered to pace her at hers.

One day we were jogging together and she brought up this harebrained scheme to enter Kahtoola’s Race for the Rockies. After we signed up, I found out she had in fact not even looked at the website for details—she just thought crossing the Colorado Rockies would be fun. I, on the other hand, did hours of research after she told me about it to figure out how it worked.

I keep her centered and she keeps my running interesting.

— Blake Burket

Jessica running American Odyssey Relay. She runs relays with the American flag to reflect gratitude upon the freedoms this country has provided her; but more importantly, to run for those who cannot. Courtesy photo

So … I never thought I’d ever be a “runner” when I grew up (let alone actually like running. Seriously, people do this for FUN?!) because I could never find the joy, the ease, the freedom.

I tried running indoor track in high school (like a bajillion years ago) and loathed it. It was forced and unnatural to me. Plus, indoors—ick. It wasn’t really until college when I started running for myself. After some rough sophomore and junior years, I lost control of my body and my mind. I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I knew I needed something to help me regain control of my life, and it was then that I found running. Really, running. Nights, trails, country roads … and suddenly I found myself nervously signing up for my first half marathon my senior year. While I wasn’t anything remotely close to spectacular, I finished. I did it. I had found myself—the space to be, to accept, to GO.

It was liberating.

I stuck with half marathons for a while, killing the C-bus half (*for me) only a few months after I had my first child in 2009. Then we moved to New Zealand, and WOAH! It was this perfect meld of awesome, wild, pure nature and uninhibited go. So, I did. And that’s where I really fell in love with how running freed me—much like this incredible land I found myself living in.

When we eventually moved back to the land of politics, Chick-Fil-A, and shitty commutes (*ahem, D.C., looking at you, kid)—and three babies later—I got back into the obligatory Army 10s, MCMs, and just about every OCR possible … and had a blast. But, on New Year’s Day 2017, after running a trail 10k to sweat out the booze from the night before, I found myself running alongside this woman who was talking about her experience running a 50k, and I was IN. Like, 12,000% in, and went straight home and signed up for the North Face Endurance Challenge D.C. 50k—sober! (I know y’all get me when I stress sober, opposed to those nights after a couple glasses of <pick your poison> perusing After convincing a few friends (*suckers) to join me—one a U.S. Marine whom signed up only six days prior to race day with his longest run being 10 miles because he’s a badass and ‘Murica—I went out and ran my first ultra and LOVED IT. Boom. I was hooked.

That, folks, was the start of my “year of crazy”; however, those who are much better at math than me will instantly realize that this is 2018, and thus, my year of crazy persists. Balancing a steady state of approximately 12-hour work days (national security never sleeps! Really, I sadly average about five hours of sleep per night), I’ve proceeded to knock out Ragnar, American Odyssey, JFK, BRR, OSSCIA (← seriously, folks—hardest run I’ve EVER done. But being the masochist I am, when signing up for a race with a 50% washout rate which the RD calls “suffocating, isolating, claustrophobic … it will break you,” well, shit, sign me up!) And now here I am, looking down a terrifyingly short three-week taper to Burning River 100 just a mere 10 days before TRANSROCKIES™ RUN!!! Well, I’m kind of all about unplanned crazy. It works for me. So, yeah … it continues.

But where I draw my strength and joy, the things that are even better than the badass experiences—the scenery and the food and booze at the aid stations—are the friendships. The look of awe in my babies’ faces. The support from near and afar. The camaraderie of being in the suck TOGETHER. I could name some pretty amazing people who have and continue to pull me through, but they know who they are. This, friends, is why ultras are amazing. Because whenever and wherever you find yourself, you are never alone. There is always someone there to pull you through and up. To keep you going. To push you further than where your mind will tell you is possible. Because of all of you, I can keep going.

I continue to move forward, to look forward to TransRockies™ Run, because it’s all I know how to do. I do it understanding that I have a responsibility, a driving purpose in life to my little girl, my littlest baby, my mini me. She deserves more than what our society provides or offers as she grows into the amazing, world-changing woman I know she will be. And so, I try to show her that there are so many other ways to be incredible, to be GREAT. Not by my (far) less-than-podium finisher times, but by NEVER giving up. By staring down that mountain or looking past that infinitely winding road. My original submission for the TransRockies™ Run was not for me, but to give my daughter the chance to witness fear, sadness, loneliness, desperation and accomplishment. Relief. Exhilaration. Awe. This is an opportunity to demonstrate that we ALL have greatness in us, and I cannot imagine a more natural demonstration of that tenacity, self-awareness, and ferociousness than to represent Kahtoola throughout every emotional stage as we traverse the Colorado Rockies as a team with my accomplished running mate Blake. This opportunity will provide testament that we are far, far stronger than our minds let us believe. And, for my daughter, that as women, we can, in fact, do ANYTHING.

To all of you … THANK YOU! I wouldn’t be who I am, or where I am today, without you.

— Jessica Carroll