Trail Running 101: How Not to Trail Run

I've been hitting the trails my whole life and running for over 35 years, and running trails for over 30 years. I've gained a lot of experience over the years and I pretty well qualify as above average when it comes not just to running, but to running trails. There isn't much I haven't encountered or dealt with, yet I recently received a reminder that I'm not perfect.

A friend of mine recently completed his first Ironman (140.6, the real deal) and is looking for his next challenge. This summer he also read Scott Jureck's book "Eat to Run", and he is now looking to do his first ultra with a long range goal of running a 100+ mile ultra some day. He knows I've done three 50k's and am looking to do a 50 mile within the next year. So, he invited me along when he planned to do his first 50k. Unfortunately the race was already closed, but undeterred he decided we should just do a 30 mile trail run in its stead. I agreed and less than two weeks later we inked in to run.

He got online and started looking at a trail and figuring out logistics. He quickly decided on the Appalachian Trail and found a place where we could start which would have us hitting a gas station 5 miles later, and a place to park his car with supplies 5 miles beyond that. The plan was to drop off his car and take my truck back to start point. We were to run 15 miles out (15.6 actually, he wanted 50k) and then turn back. With the gas station and his car we would have "aid stations" at 5, 10, 20, and 25 mile marks. Everything sounded perfect, except one teeny, tiny, thing. Neither one of us had ever seen the section of trail we were going to run.

Morning of the run came and he drove over to my house. I then followed him through the narrow, winding mountain roads to where we were going to drop his car. It was still dark and we didn't know exact spot where trail intersected road. After driving a while and knowing that we were getting close we found the spot where a trail hit the road and parked his car. I dropped off my supplies in his car, conferred with him about what he had and then we headed to out start area. By the time we got to our start point it was light enough for us to begin, so we geared up and set out.

I have to admit, that despite his having a fairly well thought out plan and course I did have some apprehensions. The first and foremost was the terrain that we would face. I didn't care about the ascents and descents, I knew they'd be there and they'd be long and steep, I was concerned about the trail itself. I had some fear that trail could be so rocky that running could be virtually impossible. In addition, we had a lot of rain recently, and who knows what that could have done to the trails.

Anyway, after putting on our camelbacks, off we went. We had about 100 yards on the road until we hit the trail, and were quickly there. Unfortunately, one of my fears was already showing its ugly head. The trail was immediately too rocky to run. The trail was nothing but rocks, some loose, some not, some suspect, but not runable. In all fairness, it was also a very steep climb that we may have walked anyway to save our legs for the run ahead. We slogged our way to the top, and got some sketchy, but runable trail and took off.

Back in the early spring I started developing some problems with my right hip. I went through bouts of better and worse through the rest of the spring, all of the summer and into the start of the fall. I was starting to feel better, but going into the run I was concerned it may not hold up, and within first mile I found out that it wouldn't. Our first downhill I slipped and came down hard on the heel of that same leg. I immediately felt a sharp, searing pain in my hip, and quickly lost strength in that hip. I could run, with little pain, but I wasn't able to lift knee of that leg as high, and that would quickly prove a problem.

The trail continued to be very rocky, and impossible to run in many places. It got to the point where we were desperate to run and we were running every possible opportunity. Unfortunately, since I was having trouble lifting my right leg, I was catching more and more rocks and roots with my toes and aggravating the hip further. I could have turned back, but I'm not that smart and it goes against my deepest beliefs, keep running until you can't.

After over an hour of running we reached the gas station that marked the five mile point in the run. We stopped for a few minutes while Doug (Jr as I refer to him) got something to eat. We both grabbed a quick drink as well and continued on.

The trail didn’t get any easier, and if anything actually got harder. The footing was horrible and we had some pretty steep ascents and descents. It resulted in us doing a lot of walking and slow jogging, but when we hit a decent stretch of trail Jr would take off. I did my best to hold on to him during those stretches. For the most part I was holding close to him, but it got harder and harder to do with each passing mile. I found myself focusing on just making it to the 10 mile mark and his car. I wasn’t going to quit, but I couldn’t look any further ahead than that point, or I would start the negative downward spiral mentally.

Almost two hours after leaving the gas station we finally reached the road where Jr had parked his car. Unfortunately, the trail didn’t cross the road where we thought it did, but it was close enough. We only had about 100 yards on the road to get to his car, where we pulled out our stash of food and drink. While refueling we discussed how long it had taken for us to reach that point, how far we had left to go, and terrain that we would most likely encounter. We quickly came to realization that instead of the 6-7 hour run we had thought we were going to do, that it was more likely going to be well over 10 hours. This was more time than either of us really wanted to put into the run, and to my relief, Jr agreed that we should turn back.

A few more minutes of rest, food, drink and foam roller and we started back the way we came. I had tightened up pretty good during that stop and really started to struggle to keep up. Jr was running strong, and now that he knew we weren’t going 30 miles, but rather only 20 miles which he’d done before (though not on trails), he started pushing the pace. I was struggling to lift my right foot enough to clear the rocks and roots so I wouldn’t trip or injure him further. As a result, I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have been on where I was stepping with my left foot. I was only concerned with getting enough lift with my right.

About 2 ½- 3 miles into the return I paid the price for my inattention to my footing. As I was swinging my left leg through I smashed my pinky toe into a large rock, and the momentum of my foot and leg kept them traveling forward. Unfortunately my pinky toe remained with the rock (remember, I wear Vibram Five Fingers). The toe was forcefully ripped to the side and I felt an immediate sharp burning pain sear through my foot. I’ve stubbed many a toe over the years, and some of them very hard, but I knew instantly that this wasn’t a stub. It was broken. Plain and simple, there was no doubt in my mind, I broke my toe.

Despite the quick eruption of pain in my left foot, and the shout of pain that escaped me, I kept running. Jr heard me, glanced back, saw that I was still running and so he continued on not knowing what I just did. We still had over 7 – 7 ½ miles left to get back to my truck. I could have stopped and turned back for Jr’s car, but we had already shortened the run, I didn’t want to totally kill it for him, so I kept running.

The rest of the run was just a painful blur. I could no longer push off on my left foot, and could lift my right. This resulted in me catching my right foot more and more often on roots and rocks. Each time that I did so, the hip got a little bit worse. And, because of how rocky the trail was, I kept banging and catching my broken toe on other roots and rocks, most of which with healthy toe wouldn’t have been that bad, but were now causing me a good deal of pain. After what seemed an eternity to me, we reached the gas station again, which meant only 5 remaining miles to run.

We both got something to eat and drink while we were at the gas station. Jr inquired about my hip, and I told him it hurt, but I’d make it. I decided not to tell him about the toe just yet. I didn’t want him to try getting me to stay at the gas station while he went for truck, or to cause him to quit the run. It is just a pinky toe after all, and though it was painful, and I could tell very swollen, it wasn’t going to kill me. I’d been struggling to keep within visual range of him on the good sections of trail, and was taking some risks to try and catch back up on the bad, but I thought I could make the remaining distance without slowing him too much. So when he was ready to run again, so was I.

Not really much to say about the remaining 5 miles beyond that it got harder and harder for me and I kept falling further and further back. He started waiting for me at start of each of the bad sections and once I caught up, he’d start off again. Finally, with about 1 ½ miles left I confessed what had happened to my toe after he’d had a lengthy wait for me to catch up to him. I told him to go ahead and I’d be along as soon after him as I could. He refused to go and kept waiting for me, and so we very slowly covered the remaining distance. When we got back to road that my truck was parked on, he smoothly accelerated down the road the short distance to the truck. I was able to run a slow hobble behind him.

On the day mistakes were made, but things were also done right. It is always good to either scout the trail you plan to run, or get a good description from someone who knows. You can head into it blind, but may find yourself doing very little running as we did. Also, I probably shouldn't have attmepted anything like that until I knew my hip was fully recovered and healed. Trail running is much more strenuous than running on roads. However, we were smart enough to run with a partner in case something happened. Jr had done an excellent job of figuring out logistics for keeping us fueled and hydrated. We had our cell phones with us, and we were smart enough to turn back (well, at least Jr was) when we knew trail was going to be too much for us to do the distance we had planned.

After the run, instead of letting me lick my wounds, my wife had me out digging a new garden. Pinky toe and hip aren't that important...

Oh, and thanks to Doug, aka Jr, whose pictures I stole for the post...

Valentine's Day Marathon '11

The morning of the Valentine's Day Marathon I woke up, got dressed, walked the pooch and then hopped in my truck and left. I made a quick stop at a deli for a nice roast beef, egg and cheddar sandwich with hot sauce and a large cup of black coffee. Good fuel to get me through the 26.2 miles that were coming up.


I made the short drive to the park, found a place to park and went to check things out. This was a very informal race: no registration, no fee, no awards, and aid station only at end of each 6.55 mile loop. With all of the snow we had I wasn't sure about running the race at all. The only reason I was really there was to use it as a training run for the 50k trail run (The Hat Run) I had next month. Due to weather I hadn't been getting many miles in and this was good way to push myself into a long run.

The race would also be a good test for Vibram Five Fingers KSO Treks. I had done some limited trail running in my Sprints and KSOs but was worried about how well my feet would do for a long trail run if there were a lot of rocks and roots. For short distances rocks and roots didn't bother my feet, but a 50k could prove different. So, shortly after signing up for the Hat Run I bought the KSO Treks, which have a slightly thicker sole. They also have a bit of a tread, more like a typical trail running shoe, which could prove valuable. The Valentine's Day Marathon I hoped would give me a good idea whether my feet would hold up with the KSO Treks or whether I had to quickly come up with another plan.

Upon arriving at the start/finish area I "checked in". I quickly donned my red stocking cap, which we were asked to wear to help ID "racers", but not required to wear and my bib number. I was assigned the number 2 and was feeling pretty special despite the fact that all of us got the same number. I didn't really understand that, but didn't care, figured it was all part of the fun.

There was a bit of a wait for start time and then for everyone to get organized. A few minutes after 10am, our official start time, we were set and the National Anthem was sung and race instructions given. Lots of warnings of ice and hard packed snow in them and cautions especially when passing. Then we were off!

The start area was only standard sidewalk width so I positioned myself a bit back from the line. The race included a 10k and 1/2 marathon option and I wanted to let the shorter distance runners a chance to get free without tricky passing. My mistake!

Within 50 yards I, along with many others, found myself trapped by a couple groups of some of the rudest and most inconsiderate women I've encountered during a race. I understand running with your friends, it makes the miles go by easier, but when you have a narrow path with deep and dangerous to run on snow and ice to each side and insist on running on 3 a breast so you can talk you are being inconsiderate. And to do it at the start of a race with several hundred runners trapped behind you goes beyond breaking race etiquette. They made no effort to move over as runner after runner slipped and scampered off path around them. They just kept chatting oblivious to the rest of us who were taking up space in THEIR world.

It took me almost a 1/2 mile to work my way around them and I was off. The opening 2 miles were as icy as promised. I was very glad of the extra traction my Treks provided me. As long as I kept my strides relatively short and took it easy around corners it wasn't too bad. There was one steep hill, to get up the side of an overpass, that proved too treacherous to run, but rest was doable.

The first 2 miles went by relatively quickly. There was some slipping, but damage done by it was minimal. But I was looking forward to the hard packed snow with good footing that we were promised for the remainder of the 6.55 mile loop. Once there though, I was less than thrilled.

The snow became hard packed alright, but was like ice and had all sorts of bumps and angles to it. Pace quickly dropped as it became a major effort just to stay upright, much less move forward. I had managed sub 9 minute miles to that point, but knew I was quickly around 11-12 minute pace now. The only fun part was 1/2 mile into it trying to hammer the gong they hung by the trail without slipping and turning my butt into a toboggan on the downhill where it was placed. I kept my feet somehow and rang out a solid bong on it.

The rest of the first loop consisted of some nice scenery and occasionally passing or being passed by other runners. A few comments during the brief meetings to distract from how the body was feeling helped pass the time. Footing remained horrible and feet continued to slide all directions twisting them up as well as my ankles and knees. Everything below the waist was a bit upset with me as I hit the end of the lap.

The aid station at the start/finish area was self serve, so I grabbed a bottle of water to refill my bottle that I was carrying in my waist pack. I quickly filled up and took off again for the start of lap 2. The temperature had warmed slightly since the first lap, which wasn't surprising since it took me around 1:06 to complete it. But, the footing hadn't improved much.

On the 2nd lap the ice was still slick, as was the hard packed snow, but both had improved very slightly. Unfortunately my legs were fried from the first lap and the 2nd lap just managed to put an even bigger hurt on them. I was still occasionally passing and being passed by other runners but things had thinned out considerably. I spent a good portion of the loop on my own. Even the 'highlight' of banging the gong was dampened when I slipped causing myself to straighten up right into the branch it was hanging from. I caught a bend in the branch right in the belly of my right side trapezius muscle. No major harm done, but an added insult to the injury I'd already been facing.

I completed the first half of the marathon in approximately 2:15. Far from a PR performance, but I was happy with my efforts. I quickly refilled my water bottle again and took off on my third loop. Things had continued to warm and there was now a 1/2 mile stretch of the start/finish stretch that was getting soggy. My feet were quickly soaked and over the first 2 miles got very cold. There was good news though. The ice had melted slightly and the hard packed snow had softened considerably and wasn't nearly as slippery. If my legs weren't already extremely sore from the first 2 loops I probably would have made much better time on this loop. But, as it was, I just kept plodding along at the same pace, unable to go faster. On the positive side though, the beating my legs were taken was considerably lessened.

The third loop was pretty uneventful. I saw very few runners, hit the gong without hurting myself and slipped around considerably less. I ran a slightly slower lap than the second, but didn't feel much worse. Unfortunately the final 200 yards was now a big puddle and my feet were thoroughly soaked and muddy by the time I reached the aid station.

I again quickly filled my water bottle and plunged into the fourth and final lap. The first 600 yards were more mud puddles and I slogged through them. The rest of the course had improved tremendously and if I had fresh legs I think I could really have cranked out a good lap on it. However, my legs were done and I just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. This lap there would be no luxury of having other runners to occasionally focus on, I was pretty much alone. In the first 4 miles of the loop the only people I saw were 2 unfriendly walkers going the other direction. Somewhere around the 4 1/2 mile mark a runner, not in the race blew by me. I saw and passed one other racer a mile from the finish.

The last lap was an exercise of will power. My legs and feet were in pain. My toes were frozen. I was starting to feel dehydrated and my blood sugar was plunging. I wanted to stop badly and say the heck with it. It was a race, but I was doing it as a training run. No harm in quitting. But, I've never had a dnf and that more than anything kept my feet moving. My spirits did buoy in the final mile when I saw and over took another racer. It wasn't so much from passing him as knowing I wasn't the only one still left on the course. At times it felt like I was alone in the world and just that one person made a big difference.

I finished strong, but still had my slowest lap of the day. My unofficial and official (timing was all on our honor, we recorded our own finish times) was 4:43:24. I felt like crap, my feet, ankles, knees, and all leg muscles were killing me. My right shoulder was throbbing, I was dehydrated and blood sugar shot. But, I was in and alive and met my goals. I got in a training run that would help me be ready for my 50k. My feet, though sore, showed they could go the distance in vibrams, no way the 50k course could be harder on them. I made it through almost 5 hours of running with zero calories or electrolytes, doing 31.2 miles with them would seem easy.

All in all it was a good day. I learned and gained a lot. I knew I would pay for it for a couple of days, but that's ok, as an endurance athlete I know to expect it. I may have even set a new PR, for my slowest ever marathon, but still haven't been able to find records to confirm. I had my first ever top 10 marathon finish and since there only 15 finishers I was also in possesion of my second worst finish, being only 6 places from my second dead last place (the only 1 I had was in a an injured 5k high school cross country race that would end up costing me the season). Looking back, I'd gladly do it all again.