Nevada Trail Pictures, Videos and Stories all coming soon! As a teaser, this is Hewett running down the south side of Mt. Jefferson with me. Incredible views!

Day 7: This is NEVADA?! One of 15 stream crossings in the Alta Toquima Wilderness. My balance was off all day, requiring a pole for help.

Day 7: Wildflowers while climbing up Pine Creek on way up Mt. Jefferson

Day 7: 12,000 feet. Brian running down Mt. Jefferson towards Jefferson Canyon

Day 6: Mini-interview prior to climbing final ascent up Table Mountain from saddle.

Day 6: Arriving at the flat summit of Table Mountain, just before the trail disappeared for 5 hours.

Day 6: On top of the endless Table Mountain - A huge herd of elk end their siesta.

Day 5: Herding cattle out of Jumbled Rocks

Piece of spaghetti to follow. We could see them coming from 6 miles away. A jetstram of white dust pouring out of their tires. But the had no clue where we were

And the sun was starting to set. There are only a few roads in these valleys and they are all dirt 2 track. Nome are straight so it's hard picking the right

We were in a valley 8 miles across and hundreds of miles long. There were no landmarks to describe our location. Only sage bushes as far as you can see.

Be met by the crew. They had a 2 hr drive back down and around the mtn. The run was great and we got down quickly. The sun was setting.

So Hewett agreed to run w/ me. It was 4 pm. We packed sleeping bags, radios, water and jackets. The plan was to reach the saddle, run down the backside and...

The truck couldn't go any higher b/c there wasn't enough oxygen. None of us knew if the jeep road continued down from the saddle or where it would come out.

(6/6) of me to mark the trail in the canyon and thought we were off one ridge but it was correct. Just very overgrown. Flat stuff tomorrow to Duckwater ind rez

(4/6) Yest. I only had a single clif bar for bfast and one freezedried dinner. The rest of the day i drank hammer powder and took pills. Pretty crazy. Same

(5/6) today. I notice that i don't have the sensation of eating but that if i don't take the stuff then i get tired. Need to pace that better. Ted went ahead

(3/6) downed trees, pokey things and thick bushes neck high. Finished @ 8:45. Happy w/ mileage. Body seems to b cooperating. Taking Hammer nutr. Supplements.

(2/6) west of cave lake state park. Camped next to 3 other ADT hikers! Today, day 2 ran 45 mi. Last mtn range descent was a slot canyon with lots of water and

(1/6) Quick catchup: a beautiful sunrise start yesterday @ the UT line. Warm reception and cake @ silver jack inn in baker. Ran 40 miles to cooper canyon just

Day 2: 45 miles. 40 yesterday. Today got interesting when I heard the radio crackle... "Brian, this may not be Waterton Canyon."

Hoka One One, Mafate Unisex Trail Shoe Review: If you're gonna go for it, go for it

I'm no expert. I couldn't explain what EVA is beyond "squishy stuff" vocabulary. I can't remember which side pronates and which supinates. And I certainly couldn't contribute much to the debate over minimalist shoes versus traditional. BUT, I have sold shoes. I sat through a four hour seminar on socks. I can measure a foot six different ways, including with a Brannock device. I'm a trained boot modifier and I can mold custom corkbed Superfeet to your foot after aligning your metatarsals.  Mostly, however, the reason I have something to say about running shoes is I've worn a lot of them. I know what works for me and for the past three weeks, a pair of Hoka One One Mafate Trail Shoes have worked for me.

Dust Storms: A hint of wild weather yet to come

In 2001, as my wife and I prepared to go to Mexico for 9 months, we put our car in storage in a rural Arizona storage lot. Being a cheapskate, I didn't want to pay for security cameras, gate codes, and razor wire. We ended up finding a storage lot on the edge of town. It was, in all respects, a bare-bones operation. There was a guy in a trailer living in an ocean of old boats, cars on blocks, and rv's. The land was unimproved, with sloping desert terrain and brush growing up everywhere. To gain access to the lot, you parked on a nearby cross street, walked up to the chainlink fence and screamed, "Ed!" If Ed didn't hear you,  you just had to walk along the fence shouting his name repeatedly until he did show up. After most of a year in Mexico where things like Ed's lot aren't unusual, we returned to the secret garden of automobiles and shouted his name once more. He had to think for a second about where our car was, but finally remembered and found a way to get the gate open. After having been parked for 9 months in the open desert, our gray and red 1989 Chevy Corsica looked like a military vehicle prepped for Iraq. The entire car was a solid sheet of sand.

Last night, in Phoenix, we had a dust storm that was so ferocious, an entire city was coated within minutes as if everything in this capital had just spent a year on Ed's lot. As I went for an 8-mile run this morning, I jogged across a small city park on my way to the Arizona State University campus. When my foot hit the manicured lawn, plumes of dust-smoke billowed from the blades of grass. There was a heavy layer of dirt on everything in a city of 1.5 million people. The Lotus, Maserati, and Ferrari dealership down the street from me, which always boasted the shiniest lot, suddenly looked like the target of nuclear fallout. This must be a hint of what something like Katrina was like, except this was a flood of dust. And it can be washed away, doesn't cause mold, and life goes on after a good workout with a garden hose.

Still, it reminds me of what could await next week as I cross Nevada. We were safe and clean inside our house as the storm raged on. The windows and doors mostly sealed out the storm creating patterns of dust on our bbq grill and patio. In a tent in Nevada, I won't likely be so lucky. But at the same time, I look forward to experiencing such weather, without the safety of home. At last report, the snowpack in the Nevada mountains was melting so fast that high clearance vehicles were sinking up to their axles in the runoff. That will be fun to run through, I think.

Bring it on! My family is packing and moving from Phoenix to Tucson tomorrow, then next Wednesday, I fly to Vegas to begin experiencing weather, basin and range topography, and the limits of my body. Sounds pretty great.

Preparing for a multi-day ultra

Busy days lately. Since last updating, I went for a group run with Tony Krupika. He just barely edged me out on a grueling mountainous course. OK, it wasn't a race and he was not even winded. He did offer some advice for my upcoming trip across Nevada. "That shouldn't be too hard. I could probably do that." Thanks, Tony. All kidding aside, he was excited for me and gave me loads of encouragement which made me feel pretty great.

A few sponsors have now come on board. The American Discovery Trail Society is providing major funding for marketing efforts in Nevada this year and my trip is one piece of that project. Kahtoola, the maker of awesome running gear for snow conditions heard about what I'll face on those mountain passes and they happily set me up with a full line-up of their gear. I'll have micro-spikes, running snowshoes, and KTS steel running crampons to choose from when the snow gets deep. Thanks Kahtoola. This is the second trip they've helped me out after supplying me in northern Arizona on the Arizona Trail.

Red Rock Running Company has stepped forward to provide my running shoes and pack this year. Red Rock is based out of Las Vegas and they'll be poised to get some good local exposure from my trip. When I contacted them, I knew the clerk's name sounded familiar but it wasn't until after we hung up that I realized I'd just been helped out by Josh Brimhall, four time winner of the Pemberton 50k and regular finisher with Karl Meltzer and others. He was classy when I was trying to brag about my 40 mile, 10 hour runs (not realizing at the time that the guy who was listening on the other end could do 50 in 7).

Another exciting development: I'm going to have my own personal EMT on the trip! Hewett Brown is a lead instructor for Backcountry Rescue Institute. Hewett and I have done some adventure running together in the past and he'll be on hand to inject the Perpetuem by I.V. or spear a bloody blister, should the time come. Hewett makes this Eagle Scout jealous when I recall how he confided in me on a trail run in Mexico one day that he had packed along his dental surgery kit. I guess since I had two root canals this spring, his services may be rendered.

Speaking of teeth, I've been reading online that there are some studies looking at tooth decay and ulra runners. I've never seen such degredation in my teeth as I've had this year - and it's interesting that this is a year of big running for me. The theories are that the sugary foods, coupled with dehydration and dry mouth rapidly break down the enamel. If anyone is studying this, feel free to send me your info.

On a 30 miler today in Flagstaff, I found a check for $400. That's the third time I've found a large sum of money while running, fourth if you count biking.

A few days of packing, some sleep and hydration and it'll be off to Nevada. Start date is July 14 at 5 am in Baker, Nevada. Hoping to finish at Lake Tahoe on July 24.

Would You Run For 236 Hours For One Minute of Airtime With Bob Barker?

A Blast from the Past     

I did just that ten times over when I visited CBS Television Studios for a taping of The Price is Right at the end of my solo run across America on trails in 1998. I ran for roughly 140,000 hours in my run across the country and was rewarded with 10 minutes of airtime with Bob Barker on the show. During the taping, he stopped the show three times to ask me questions about the trip. It was over so quickly; I was in complete shock the entire time. No one knows who will be picked when they sit down in the frigidly cold studio audience after waiting outside for hours. Everyone hopes they will hear their name but in each show, only 9 out of more than 300 get called to "come on down". I was the first in the second half to get to jog down the aisle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=autFqYoRk1Q 

Zane Grey Highline Trail 50 Mile Race Report: 2011

Is it shallow of me to want to elevate my overall rank in the results by including the nearly 40% of registered runners who didn't show up for the start? Out of 200 runners who each paid a Benjamin to register for the self-proclaimed hardest 50-mile trail race in the nation, 72 of them changed their mind.

Whatever. I'm including them.

Great News! Out of 200 registered runners, I finished 61st!

(wink,wink) Special thanks to MAP Photography for their great shots this year. This was my fourth time doing Zane Grey and my third time to finish. (The other time I was pulled off the course at mile 44 because I was told to stop early.)

Last weekend would have been really exciting on the course. The high temperature just one week before was 34F and almost a half-inch of rain and snow fell that day.

Pre-Race: Too Much Thinking!

As I prepare for a rugged 50-mile trail race this weekend, my thoughts run amuk.

Whether you're gearing up for a 5k or 50 miler, there's always those inevitable days leading up to the race when all you do is think about it. Have you trained enough? Almost always 'no'. How will it feel? Usually painful. And the ultimate: How will you do? It depends.

I've been very happy with my training since January. I've run over 500 miles since then and until last weekend,

Jumping Castles as Physical Therapy and Brian Finds Gollum in a Tunnel!

(Photo above is of Camelback Mountain, near our neighborhood).

Quite a week. My wife has been working out of town more often and that means low mileage weekdays. To keep my weekly mileage climbing, it also means I need to hammer the miles when she's around. It actually works out well since I'm trying to prepare for big back to back days in Nevada this June (50 miles/day for 10 days).

It's "Leave Your Car at Work Week"

Wednesday evening: After a 12 hour day at school with both classes and parent-teacher conferences, I decided to leave my car at school and run the 13 miles home at 8 pm. I've found it's a remarkable way to clear my head after a full day in the classroom. Now that I've gotten home (10 pm), I also realize it will be a great incentive to run back in just 8 hours, as I don't have much choice in the matter with my car there now. Favorite moment running back tonight? Passing a digital "Your Speed" display built into a speed limit sign. The sign clocks drivers speeds as they go through the 40 m.p.h. zone. "45" - "48" - "42" - "6" ... At first, I thought it was a speed gun glitch but then I realized who it was clocking. Classic.

States Runner is now also the Journey Runner... and, There's a Problem with That

Last weekend was an adventure where family life goes running. With my wife out of town, I decided to take both of my girls along on my Saturday long run. As I plodded down the path first to ballet practice, then a park, the zoo, a playground, and a muddy stream, I realized that this day was just as much of an adventure as my solo cross-state treks. I'm not giving up my goal to cross all fifty states on foot by trails, but I also think it's important to point out that you don't have to do a monumental trek to enjoy the adventure that distance running has to offer. Where do you need to go? Can you plan ahead to run there? Adventure Found! Therefore, I've registered a second web address: www.journeyrunner.com

I'll eventually rearrange my site to show an interest in both. For the time being, however, that address simply points to my statesrunner.com site.

Here's a video I shot of our 8 hour, 150 pound cart over the 22 mile ordeal. This video proves I need to upgrade my camera resolution - sorry for that. Improvements on the way this summer.

Dean Karnazes Maintains His Pace Through Phoenix, Arizona

Several transcontinental (or transcon) runners have now chimed in on their thoughts about
Dean Karnazes' attempt to run 3000 miles across the country this spring. When thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail, we had a saying for that kind of talk, "You hike your own hike." Anyone who has put one foot in front of the other and gone from sea to sea has endured their own limits, regardless of their support or lack thereof. Witnessing any attempt like this is always of interest to me, so when I saw that Dean was coming through Phoenix this past Sunday, I had to check it out.

His crew set up a 5k fun run at Tempe Town Lake, the second in a 12 part series across the country to raise awareness for Dean's cause. I'm not sure what I was expecting really. A big bus, to be sure. A few crew members and a banner tied to a railing somewhere. Boy, was I off. Two identical tour buses, two pickup trucks, a minivan, a few mountain bikes, two pacers who run and bike with Dean, and a personal physician. In the unseasonably warm days Dean ran through to get to Phoenix, his crew had him taking up to six ice baths per day to keep cool. It may sound posh, especially compared to my own solo trip with a ten pound hip pack and almost twice the mileage on trails. But my impression of the day wasn't filled with resentment as can be tempting when someone else yells Bingo and you already had a row.

I really feel for the guy. He's got events lined up all across the country with paid participants. A network is counting on him to maintain a schedule and arrive on time, not get sick, injured, burnt out, or excessively needed at home. His sponsors want to make sure their products and names are getting their money's worth. It really looks like a difficult combination of an X-Games commercial for a cooking show about rice. There's lots of hype. There's support from the public. There's a willingness from corporations to see what their return will be. And amidst all that, at the center of that excitement, there's a guy jogging 6 miles per hour trying to cover 40 or so miles each day. The excitement would be fun. I'll admit that but I don't envy the pressure. Nor the schedule. He's able to spend about as much time taking in his surroundings as a 10 year old spends reading birthday cards. That's not his fault. To make the whole thing fit into a 75-day commercial, he has to keep going.

To put some perspective on this, he covered almost exactly the same distance from Anaheim to Phoenix in one-third the time as I did from Reno to San Francisco. Granted, I was running trails over the Sierra Nevada Mountains and wearing all my gear but I could also slow down and take a light day if my body needed it. That is a luxury even the well-equipped Dean doesn't have. I return to my A.T. phrase, "You hike your own hike," and there's no doubt that Team Dean is certainly doing his trip in his own way. It's big, it's loud, and it's getting loads of attention.
And for that I'm happy for him.

Should Runners Ever Carry Pepperspray?

I've run about 35,000 miles, crossed 28 states, and have never required protection against people or animals while running. Well, almost never. I've been bitten by dogs twice. One of them might have been getting back at me for demonstrating that he was following, snarling, and barking a little too close to me as I ran past his yard. I merely extended my back stride, somewhat striking him in the face. The next time I passed he didn't hesitate. The second time it was a dog on a trail in Colorado. He was off leash and probably startled. The owner's reply was, "It's no big deal. He's had his shots and stuff." But that's it. Had I been a little more cautious in both cases I might have avoided injury.

So it was a difficult decision to make when I tried to deflect the numerous, consistent messages I heard from people warning me about a section of canal trail and the raw danger of wild dogs I would encounter. "Come on," I thought, "I've faced animals before." I knew how to shout "NO!" I know how to throw a rock and swing a long stick. But where these dogs were reported to be, there aren't a lot of long branches. I could have wielded the branch of a creosote sapling, the length and strength of which would have been similar to sword fighting with a bendy straw. Somehow I couldn't picture myself fighting off a pack of vicious canines with something whose design best threatens by drooping to the ground and swaying in the wind like a Willow branch.

I was planning to run across the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, a reservation just east of Phoenix city limits. Last week I had entered it but needed to turn around relatively early to keep within my mileage. Today I was not only going to go further into it, but all the way across it to the next city of Mesa, more specifically Red Mountain Ranch in east Mesa.

Just what did people tell me to expect of these dogs? My students in class said they saw large sticks leaning against the gymnasium wall on the reservation. They were later told the sticks were available to fight off stray dogs who came too close. Then I had a brief conversation about it with a race director from the valley. He said that the Arizona Canal once was part of the Desert Classic Road Race but the course was changed, in part, due to issues with dogs attacking runners near the landfill. Other runners related similar stories.

After about five different people tell you the same thing, you start to think there may be something to it. I decided not to take a chance and buy some pepper spray. Heading out from home, I picked up a small keychain dispenser at a local Ace Hardware. It clipped easily to my waist belt, had a safety cap, and boasted 25 shots of up to 8 feet away. I felt like I was packing an arsenal of weaponry. Nothing could touch me now! Not as long as I can manage to turn off the safety cap, point it in the right direction, and remember to not spray into the wind. But as I ran, I began to question the cosmic impact of packing really hot heat. Could choosing to bring protection somehow invite problems? I imagine Indiana Jones and his girl choosing not to look at the Ark when it was opened, thus having their lives spared. I get the sense that these wild dogs haven't read Spielberg's liner notes and I doubt they'd give me similar leeway, even if I did keep my eyes closed during an attack.

It was beautiful day: cool crisp air, fluffy bright white clouds, bright sun and a light blanket of snow draping mountains in all directions. But I had to focus. People had told me about what I would face. And now, with my Batman Belt Starter Kit, I was ready for it. Up ahead, about five miles into the reservation I saw something. It was large and about a quarter mile away. Much too large for a dog. Is it a hiker? Way out here? No, it's too steady to be a hiker. Must be a bike rider. Nope. 150 yards. It's not wavering even a little. Wait, it's not moving at all. 50 yards. I think it may be a cactus. 30 yards. Not a cactus. Oh, I see. It's a Palo Verde tree, that funky pale green wood that surely got its start in some Dr. Suess story which came to life. The branches are dainty and almost like a hazy fog, so that from a distance the only thing visible is the trunk. My bad. I'll stop hovering over my sidearm now. Another quarter mile. There's my first dog. I don't think it will be coming after me. It's dead. Roadkill.

That was it. No more dogs. There was a stretch of about 2 miles where the canal was on my left and a fenced landfill on my right. I felt a little claustrophobic. If something came after me an escape would have meant jumping into the frigid cold canal, hopping the landfill fence, or sprinting ahead or back. Not many choices, and I noticed it. Across the canal, just opposite me a coyote wandered slowly in retreat, either to make way or call for backup.

I had covered 19 miles on my way across the eastern Phoenix area, hoping to make it to my nephew's first birthday party before the first and only candle was blown out by spittle. My route was about to cross the Beeline Highway, a stretch of straight 4-lane running mostly the length of Arizona. Once I crossed that, I was hoping to find a dirt road that would take me the final 5 miles across open desert, a gravel pit and at least two more canals to arrive at the edge of a suburban neighborhood where a wee little one was being bedazzled by large wrapped items.

As I was already late for the party, rather than miss it altogether, I called my wife for a pick up. I ran down the highway until she pulled over in front of me. 21 miles for the day. 72 for the week.

Kids have a cold and I'm fighting hard not to get it, even as they cough a rainshower of germs from point blank range in their sleep when I snuggle them to bed. Pepper spray? Who needs that?

Run Your Age on Your Birthday

While some people light up their annual cake by listening to a monotone quartet of servers at a Mexican restaurant sing Happy Birthday in deadpan expression, this year I decided to ring in the new year of life by running my age. Covering 39 miles in one day would have been about as appropriate in my training plan as wearing Groucho Marx glasses to a disciplinary hearing at Harvard, but I realized that I could just about get my miles if I stretched them out over both of my weekend long runs. Then it would only be like wearing funny socks and underwear to meet the board of regents. You still get the special feeling of what you're doing, but no one gets hurt by it.

Three extra miles on top of my planned 36 for the weekend really isn't that big of an increase, but I'm trying to get up to 50 per day without injury and that takes careful planning and regimented increases.

The whole practice of running your age in miles seems awfully arbitrary. Dean Karnazes claims it was the beginning of his adult running career when he trotted away from a bar on his 30th birthday in the middle of the night, clad only in undershorts and a pair of sneakers. My dad had participated in the tradition, running 30-some miles from our home to the next town when I was younger, though I don't think he started at a bar. Every now and then you read about some 70 year old who continues the tradition every year. So why do people do this? I chose to run the extra miles simply to mark the occasion and show myself that I was still capable of achieving something, to prove that my mind was still stronger than my body - even a year later.

But running the actual distance, as measured in miles, paired with the number of cycles the earth has orbited around the sun since a woman became your mother, seemed quite silly to me. This point became especially apparent as I intently looked down at my GPS watch Sunday, in the middle of a long, featureless stretch of canal, just outside of the Phoenix city limits, making sure to stop on the exact step when my odometer hit 9.5 miles so I could turn around for a 19 mile day. I felt fine. I easily could have gone another half-mile or even three. But on this day, tradition dictated that I didn't. I must hold off seeing what is down that canal until next year. That's what seems so arbitrary about this tradition. Of course I know I won't wait a whole year. It's far too exciting wondering what is down there.

My pair of weekend runs started Saturday with me heading west on the Arizona Canal. For those not from the Phoenix area, this is the big one. It is 50 miles long and spans from a dam northeast of Mesa, across the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, to downtown Scottsdale, Phoenix, Glendale, and Peoria. In other words, it is a running path, the length of two marathons that slices across the city from east to west. On either side of its bank are 20-foot wide running paths which occasionally sport art displays, pedestrian underpasses, pavement and access to eateries offering items which could satisfy any craving in any price range.

Heading west, I enjoyed passing numerous other runners out for the ritual long Saturday jog. I ran through the Biltmore resort, where local Arizona hero John McCain delivered his presidential concession speech. I passed a mural of a woman, in a flying pose, clad only in a draped American flag, with the words, "Support Our Troops." Where do I sign up? Semper Fi, indeed. I also discovered that I've been running a portion of the Hashknife Pony Express, a 200-mile long route from Holbrook to Scottsdale where authentic riders deliver 20,000 pieces of mail on horseback in an annual ride each January.




It was a cloudy day, a rarity in Arizona. In fact, this week, when I took my students outside to the playground for an activity, one of my 7th graders asked if it was safe to be out when there are clouds. That's what you get when you have 334 days of sun per year.

A few cubes of Cliff Shot Blocks and two bottles of Gatorade and I returned home, air-drumming to my iPod as I had steadily increased my pace from 10:30 minute miles to 7:30. I knew I would pay for the strong finish on Sunday's equally long run but as Arlo Guthrie once said, "Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."

Sunday's run was a bit more of a challenge. I was headed out for 19 miles to complete my 39 for the weekend. Sometimes my motivation to get out the door is dependent on my having a curiosity to fulfill about which direction or where a path will take me. It's why I love pedestrian travel (or journey running); you never know where some trail will take you or what you'll see and the only way to find out is to get on it and go. That's how you find flag-draped flying women and tunnels with wonderful echoing acoustics. Fortunately, I still had the other direction to go and headed east on the same canal, patiently excited for what the next 9.5 miles would bring.

The first five were about what I expected: a few other runners, some high end condo developments and a linear park golf course. But soon, I found the canal was leaving behind the iconic landscape of central Scottsdale and taking a decidedly different direction. I was leaving the city. I knew the Arizona Canal started near the confluence of the Salt and Verde rivers, but I wasn't sure if I kept going whether I would end up at Lake Roosevelt. With internet satellite images and online trail maps, I could have clicked that morning to find out. I could have even found the answer on my cell phone during the run, but that removes the mystery from the moment. I love running - scanning the horizon - trying to determine where I'm headed. I saw an overpass ahead. Is that the 101 that curves around the city counterclockwise like a clock face from about 7 o'clock to 10 o'clock? If so, where on the clock dial am I? Have I possibly run all the way to the north side of the city, near 12 o'clock or am I closer to home, more like 3 o'clock? Looking for landmarks, I spotted a tall casino to my north, indicating I was not as far from home as I'd hoped.

Crossing under the highway may as well have been entering (or exiting) the wardrobe in Narnia. Land east of the highway isn't Phoenix at all. It's tribal land: open desert, sporatic houses in various states of repair, renovation or construction. That, and the canal. I ran along it for several miles, taking in the refreshing open desert. Someone had once cautioned me about packs of wild dogs when crossing the reservation. When it was time to turn around, I stopped to take in my surroundings and noticed a large yellow dog jogging in my general direction. I scanned the horizon, expecting to see a dozen others converging on me from various neighbor quadrants. To my relief, none did and the yellow dog didn't approach any closer.



If I were to be surrounded by a pack, I don't know what I would do out there in the open country. Most dogs seem to know what you mean when you shout "No!" or when you pick up a big rock, not that I would aim with any real intent. But the canal doesn't offer any protection and the outlying houses don't seem like they'd get me any further away from the animals. I've never traveled with pepper spray and would have a hard time convincing myself if it would ever really be necessary, but I have hopes of taking that canal another 10 miles east to my in-law's house so I'll have to think about my options there. I wonder if Google Earth has captured any wild dogs on the reservation?

63 miles for the week and the body is holding up well.

Twice the Fun! 12 Times the Weight!

Click here for this week's picture.

50 miles for the week. Two weekend runs of 15 miles each.

If you've been hearing as much as I have lately about being carbon neutral, but didn't think it was possible in your current schedule, read on!

With my better half out of town for the day, I needed to figure out how to juggle watching the kids, getting them to ballet practice, and fitting in a 15 mile run (preferably during sunlight hours). Pumping up the knobby studded tires of our double BOB jogging stroller, we loaded 'er down with everything a family of three might need for trip to at least the first three dynasties of the Great Wall. I'm not kidding here: 4 water bottles, 200 goldfish crackers, 2 tubs of applesauce, a fleece blanket, 2 nylon windbreakers, 2 fleece jackets, a dry erase board, a coloring book and 12 colored pencils (all carefully selected in hues of pink, purple, blue, and red), 3 plastic horses, an ipod and stereo, a ballet outfit, cell phone, gps, leftover french toast, and a wallet. I mean, really, Jedd Clampit didn't have as much when he moved to Beverly.

The kids are 40 pounds each, the stroller 20, the gear at least 300 more, it's a wonder the thing even rolled. You know you've had a different kind of workout when the skin of your palms stings from trying to steer Santa's sleigh, if every deer had been a roadkill and the rails were on gravel.

We made it to ballet just in time for me to stand at the parent observation window in my nylon short shorts, amidst doting parents with their Starbucks thermoses and sleepy eyes that hadn't already taken in 4.86 miles of fresh morning desert air. As I took my window position at the parent lineup, it seemed as though the others were making just a little more room for me than anyone else. Maybe that was just my imagination. Me and my sweaty hat hair's imagination that is.

After all of future Black Swans received their sticker for hopping over a paper flower six times in a row, it was time to head back out onto the canal path. Don't think this six hour outing was a jail sentence for these passengers. Anytime they spoke up, I stopped the stroller to find out what they needed. One time, it was because they both wanted to get out and run. Great! Less weight for me! Amazingly, they both ran about 1/2 mile. Another time, Maia wanted to get out and find a stick. This, she creatively used to drag a 12-mile long line in the dirt as we rolled along. Hansen and Gretel could've eaten their bread AND found their way home if Maia had given them her giant stick. Then Clara wanted one. Her finding skills weren't quite so successful and she ended up returning from her hunt with 25 tiny clamshells, which I promised we would later wash and paint (anything to get in the stroller again).

Though she now had shells, she was still stickless and to halt the crying and fighting over the extremely high demand for stick given the limited supply in the stroller (next time, pack more sticks), I stopped the parade again and retrieved an UberStick for Clara. It had branches coming off of it in all directions, was about 5 feet long and possibly could've made some neat acrobatics out of the oncoming bicyclists if well placed in a passing tire. Maia saw this as too much and instantly said, "Hey Clara, let's trade." "Don't fall for it Clara!" I shouted between deep breaths as I had just gotten up to cruising speed of 6 miles per hour. "Yeah, that's a great idea," naive younger sis Clara responded.

At this point, we were making something like the tracks of an overloaded airplane, trying for liftoff, with dragging wingtips. But we never seemed to get airborne, what with the required stops for seashells and all-important sticks.

An hour and a half later we arrived at the Phoenix Zoo and loaded up on some kettle corn. Thank goodness the cashier found a stash of small brown paper bags; you don't want to see two preschoolers try and share a single jumbo bag of kettle corn. Not unless there's a ring, a ref and some money riding on it.

The zoo was crowded and we jogged around the masses as we peeked at most of the animals on display. The hit of the day was the koalas, which we learned are so docile because by eating only Eucalyptus leaves, they don't get much energy, similar to a daddy who only gets to eat two slices of french toast before having to push the truck from Sanford and Son to the top of Mt. Sinai.

As is typical, we didn't get out of the zoo before both girls had taken off their shoes and socks and played in the muddy stream. Just where does that muddy water in the middle of the zoo come from? Oh, and they insisted on riding the carousel. I didn't understand it. Would you get out of the car after a 5-hour road trip just to get into a golf cart? I guess if it was a really cool golf cart, I would.

Sunday I went solo, covering 16 miles. I didn't even stop for clamshells.

More Mileage - Less Sleep

I'm going to give the credit to my high school running mentor, Coach Weinheimer. He was the one who said, "Recovery is just as important as the training." I think he was the one who said it, but that was 20 years ago. Even if he wasn't the author, I'm still going to give the credit to him because he deserves it.

When I learned I could run farther than others in gym class, I let my machismo for pounding the miles override any common sense about allowing for recovery. The past two decades have shown me some injuries that are sure to surface more regularly if I don't heed the advice above.

My older running friends tell me that with age comes a longer recovery for what ails you. I'd love to avoid the injury altogether, but know that's not likely.

This week, as I continue to increase my mileage in another 10% increment, I know that rest also must begin to increase, even if that only means going to bed when the majority of other lights on the street darken. Tonight, as I finish grading, the little ones are finally tucked in and and my wife has again gone to bed hoping I'd "be right along", I find myself again trying to justify a night of 6 hours sleep after another busy day.

Later this spring, when my weekend training runs approach 40 miles each day (I'm only at 40 per week now), I know that then I will surely need more rest. So why is it that I can't get myself to understand that I also need that rest now, as I build my miles? The body builds itself stronger through a clever process of breaking down and rebuilding. If the second half of that equation isn't present, it will only continue the first.

Let's all sleep on this.

By the way, had a great solo 13 miler yesterday. Got out before the sun was rising. Kept the pace slow and smooth. Tried to focus on relaxation. Before I knew it, more than 2 hours had passed and I had discovered a fantastic loop in Tempe and south Scottsdale. Not even winded!

Today I repeated last week's run with Clara in the stroller. There was much less wind and we again toured the zoo in our own unique buggy zip series lap. Not even time for kettle corn today as big sis Maia was about to have a birthday party. Felt a bit more tired from today's 11 miler but that's the whole plan, and 6 hours sleep last night surely played a part in that.

Click here for a picture of Sunday's Run

On track running trails

This weekend was my second weekend sticking to my new running schedule. Last night was comical trying to run 9 miles on the treadmill late at night while keeping an eye on two restless kiddos who wouldn't go to bed. I don't think the digital stopwatch on the treadmill ever got more than 8 minutes without being paused to break up a fight over a piece of jewelry in the closet or that one kid wanted to read alone and the other was invading her privacy. Two long hours later I had logged my distance (including time to ref the kids).

Sunday was my second day at the same distance and it went swimmingly. I only had one kid in my care this morning and we took advantage of the cool morning air and sunny weather to go out with our single BOB jogging stroller. One of the things I've struggled with as a running father is how much interaction is expected between me and my kids while running. Should I try and carry constant conversations with them? It can be hard to hear with the wind, sun shade, and gagging on phlegm while running up some of the overpasses and pushing 100 pounds. I foolishly tried using earbuds and my ipod a few times. Not only is this dangerous for muting passing bikers and cars, but by the time the kids are screaming for more wheat thins, they've resorted to lunging sideways in the stroller and bracing all four feet firmly against the front tire: something they know I hate. Today I may have found a solution to all of that.

We recently got a small battery powered speaker system for our ipod. It was really so my wife could hoop to her tunes when we go to the park on bike rides. Resting that on the top of the stroller, I could have my tunes and hear the kid by only the 5th time she screamed her request. Perhaps it was just today, but the music seemed to soothe her into a dreamlike state. Who knew lyrics to My Humps could pacify a high maintenance coach passenger?

So we headed east for a 9 mile clockwise loop run in south Scottsdale today and at first the southward wind was pretty strong. No problem I thought, we'll just take it slow. Then we turned south and the wind appeared a thing of the past, except that for some reason the disc golf players seemed to be standing motionless at their tee, facing north, just kind of looking into the distance like cows do when facing a windstorm. It must have been a good day to lose a disc as there was a trio of entrepreneurial guys with grappling hooks and long ropes, dredging the city ponds for the lost equipment. They had a huge pile of the round hunks of brightly colored $20 plastic. Craigslist: New Lower Price! Go Natural with our Algae Scented Golf Discs! Order today and get yours delivered with a dusting of authentic Scottsdale real estate. Supplies limited.

Having reached the southern end of the Hayden Greenbelt, we met up with Tempe Town Lake and made our way along the lake to the stables and our route back north. That's when the wind turned from friend to foe. Head on, while going uphill to rejoin the cross-cut canal, Clara, who was already bundled up in a double layer fleece blanket and full outfit screamed (for the fifth time), "It makes my throat feel yucky". Wait a minute, lemme turn down Beck.

She was a little trooper and, as a reward, we took a short side trip to the Phoenix Zoo. As members, it's a free diversion and my GPS watch indicated I might need to add some mileage to make this a 9 miler. Into the zoo we both refueled with the age-old aid station standard: kettle corn. Both feeling much better, we jogged one lap through the zoo. I think the only things we spotted were the lions, one tiger, and a family of mandrils. Oh, and a guy wearing a Cheech and Chong t-shirt that said, "Dave's not here, Dude."

Back north into the wind, we returned home in 1 hr 36 min of moving time. Total distance: 10.3 miles. Guess we didn't need that extra lap around the zoo after all.

Watched the Packers make it to the Superbowl and got rehydrated. New mileage starts tomorrow!

Back in the Shoes Again

After a physically challenging fall and winter, I'm back into the running scene. I broke my middle toe one night and while that did slow down my training, I was still able to participate in a 50 mile run.

Then a bizarre lower back problem surfaced which had me on the floor for days. Time, rest, stretching, and a chiropractor have appeared to clear that up.

And just when I was thinking about next summer's plans for another state, I got a call from a trail friend in Nevada. He's interested in helping me complete a speed attempt of the American Discovery Trail across his state this June. I've already run that state but last time I stuck to Highway 50, billed by Time Magazine as "The Lonliest Road in America." This time, I'll get to cross all 28 mountains while on trails. To set any kind of record that has a chance of sticking even a short while, it would have to be high miles. I'm considering an attempt at 50 miles per day over 10 days. I've never run those kinds of miles but I'm hopeful that smart training this fall can allow me to complete that.

To train, I want to increase my time and distance by no more than 10% each week and use my two weekend days to run double long runs, one on each day. By late May, I'll attempt a 4 day stint of 50 milers and if I can come off that still upright, then I think I'll have a chance at it in Nevada. Until then, I'll leave the long running for the weekends and use weekdays as recovery runs, slowly building up that mileage as well. If anyone has any thoughts on how to improve this schedule, please let me know as I'm just guessing what I'll be able to do and sustain.

	Minutes - Weekday Runs
Date	Week	Minutes/Day	(.10 time/week)	Hours
1/17/2011	1	30	3	0.55
1/24/2011	2	33	3.3	0.605
1/31/2011	3	36.3	3.63	0.6655
2/7/2011	4	39.93	3.993	0.73205
2/14/2011	5	43.923	4.3923	0.805255
2/28/2011	6	48.3153	4.83153	0.885781
3/7/2011	7	53.14683	5.314683	0.974359
3/14/2011	8	58.46151	5.8461513	1.071794
3/21/2011	9	64.30766	6.43076643	1.178974
3/28/2011	10	70.73843	7.073843073	1.296871
4/4/2011	11	77.81227	7.78122738	1.426558
4/11/2011	12	85.5935	8.559350118	1.569214
4/18/2011	13	94.15285	9.41528513	1.726136
4/25/2011	14	103.5681	10.35681364	1.898749
5/2/2011	15	113.925	11.39249501	2.088624
5/9/2011	16	125	12	2 h 5 m
5/16/2011	17	137	12	2 h 17 m
5/23/2011	18	150	12	2h 30 m
Scroll down for weekend distances.
	Miles - Weekend Runs
Date	Week	Start	Increment	End	min/mile	minutes	Hours
22-Jan	1	8	1.2	9.2	10	92	1.533333
1/29/2011	2	9.2	1.38	10.58	10	105.8	1.763333
2/5/2011	3	10.58	1.587	12.167	10	121.67	2.027833
2/12/2011	4	12.167	1.82505	13.99205	10	139.9205	2.332008
2/19/2011	5	13.99205	2.0988075	16.09086	10	160.9086	2.68181
2/26/2011	6	16.09086	2.413628625	18.50449	10	185.0449	3.084081
3/5/2011	7	18.50449	2.775672919	21.28016	10	212.8016	3.546693
3/12/2011	8	21.28016	2.553619085	23.83378	10	238.3378	3.972296
3/19/2011	9	23.83378	2.860053375	26.69383	10	266.9383	4.448972
3/26/2011	10	26.69383	3.203259781	29.89709	10	298.9709	4.982849
4/2/2011	11	29.89709	3.587650954	33.48474	10	334.8474	5.58079
4/9/2011	12	33.48474	4.018169069	37.50291	10	375.0291	6.250485
4/16/2011	13	37.50291	4.500349357	42.00326	10	420.0326	7.000543
4/23/2011	14	42.00326	5.04039128	47.04365	10	470.4365	7.840609
4/30/2011	15	47.04365	5.645238233	52.68889	10	526.8889	8.781482