3 Essential Steps to Stop Self-Sabotage Once and for All

"To be a champ you have to believe in yourself when no one else will."
-Sugar Ray Robinson

There are plenty of cynics in this world. Even if someone doesn't self-identify that way, we all have that dark little voice telling us the reasons we can't accomplish something, the reason things are destined to fail. What's worse than telling ourselves something isn't possible? Telling someone else that their dream isn't possible. One side step to that that's even more insidious, is telling other people that someone else isn't capable of something (ahhh, vicious gossip).

While you may not choose to acknowledge that you are indulging your inner bully, what else can you call it if you're being straight up about it? Start by making a choice to listen to your inner bully, then tell him/her/it to "take a long walk off a short pier". Or you can tell it to "Go F**K itself!" Whatever you need to break from that pattern of thinking long enough to get something done.

Step 1: Choose to believe you're capable of more than you can ever imagine. In some respects, you might be in the paradigm of fake it til you make it here. When you get to the point you believe in yourself, know that this isn't a permanent condition, nobody transcends that inner bully, at least nobody I've met yet.

Step 2: Surround yourself with people who are adult in their self-respect, and childish in their belief in chasing dreams. The adult part is important, as people who behave as children across the board are prone to childish jealousy, gossip, and feeling bad for themselves when you succeed. Your victory becomes their insecurity. The part that is childish (dream chasing element) is key because a lot of so-called grown ups are bitter, jaded and cynical. As far as I can tell, a very high percentage of these people have lived responsible, reasonable lives, and have at some point in time given up on something they really, really wanted to chase after.

Step 3: Foster an environment where you empower others in their goals and dreams, you become a champion vs the inner bullies of others. This can take many forms, but it starts with recognizing the red flags of others' inner bullies, and taking a stand for them to overcome. Interestingly enough, Step 3 is the most essential to maintaining Steps 1 & 2, as when our focus expands to community (instead of self), it's much more difficult to indulge in bad habits. When you put your focus on others, I find you also elevate your personal game. When you stand for excellence in others, you naturally trend towards maintaining your own excellence. Vanity helps here, nobody wants to be viewed as a hypocrite.

To expand a bit on the community focus, I have long had a rule for myself as a coach, but even more so as a human being:

"Never tear down the dreams or goals of another human being."

That's the baseline. But when I am living and breathing it, "another human being" will also extend to me, I'm not allowed to tear down my own goals and dreams.

A shout out to my friend (and mentor) Robert Mills, a man who hired me to coach one of his marathon programs before I had even really run a marathon myself. Yes, you read that right. Marathon program #1 (I'm now closing in on my 40th program coached), I had not even RUN a 26.2 mile footrace myself. Now, looking back on 13 years of marathon experience, I've finished over 60 races of 26.2 miles up to 135 miles in a single shot, having coached 2,500+ athletes to achieve their goals and dreams. But it started with believing in myself even if not 100%, and finding others who did too. Again, thanks to Robert and Euri, and especially that champion who's been at my side for all of that, my beloved Kate.

Call to action:

1- What big goal / dream are you chasing after actively now?

2- Is there a back-burner goal/dream that you haven't taken any action on in a long time? (i.e. something you keep telling yourself you'll go after when you're ready, just not now)

3- Who could you share these with that would stand for you being accountable to chasing these goals and dreams?

4- Who could you stand for to get on track with their goals and dreams?

"A goal is not always meant to be reached, it often serves simply as something to aim at."
-Bruce Lee

The First Steps (Out the Door) Are Often the Toughest - Original 6 Hundo Challenge aka #O6HC Blog Entry 01

"You are capable of more than you know.  Choose a goal that seems right for you and strive to be the best, however hard the path.  Aim high.  Behave honorably.  Prepare to be alone at times, and to endure failure.  Persist!  The world needs all you can give."

-E.O. Wilson

*Original 6 Hundo Challenge (#O6HC) - the first six hundred mile trail races to exist in the United States, in order of inception: Western States, Squaw Valley, CA to Auburn, CA (1974), Old Dominion, Fort Valley, VA (1979), Wasatch Front, Utah (1980), Leadville Trail, Colorado (1983), Angeles Crest, Wrightwood, CA to Pasadena/Altadena (1986), and Vermont (1989)  * - this challenge has historically been known by the title the Last Great Race which is presently "on hiatus".  Out of respect to the organizer, we've chosen to call the challenge another name until we are able to register for the LGR officially.


It's been quite a 9 month stretch since I completed the 2013 Angeles Crest 100 (AC) and Leadville Trail 100 (LT) inside of a two week period (well, 2 weeks, 1 day and a couple-few extra hours).  I spent about 10 days post that 100-mile double challenge hibernating, as it f**king wrecked me.  So, sounds like a perfectly rational idea to run 6 hundreds (the first 6 hundred mile trail races that existed in the United States) in a 13 week period, right?!?  A long-standing motto of mine: the worst ideas often make the best stories.

To begin with, I blame the seed for this idea being planted on Andy Kumeda.  In 2007, we were chatting in Wrightwood awaiting the check in for the Angeles Crest Endurance Run.  Andy had attempted to run these same six races in 2007 and going into AC Andy was 4-for-5 having timed out at that year's #4 (Leadville), at Mile 60.  I was still floored, as he had finished the Wasatch Front 100 (WF)  in 35:57 (with less than 3 minutes to spare) and was attempting to complete AC only 6 days after that finish.  The 2007 Angeles Crest became my first ever DNF at any race of any distance (it was my only hundred attempt in 2007). I pulled out about halfway through (Mile 49, Mt. Hillyer) with some breathing problems that may or may not have been hypoxia or the early stages of hyponatremia.  Andy finished AC with a couple/few hours to spare.  He vowed to give these 6 hundos another shot as soon as he got back into the Western States 100 (States), and 7 years later, here we are.

I personally loved the idea of The Grand Slam of Ultrarunning (the Slam) which is 4 of the original 6 hundreds, about one per month, but have some longer term goals at Angeles Crest, so while I wanted to run Western States, the Vermont 100 (VT), Leadville and Wasatch in the same summer, I felt too impatient to skip AC for a summer (FOMO in LA is particularly fierce).  Angeles Crest used to be late-September/early-October as recently as 2008, but has been moved to July/August since the devastating Station Fire in 2009.  Now, with AC in late-July/early-August, it's sandwiched in between the only 4 week break in the Grand Slam, 2 weeks after Vermont, 2 weeks prior to Leadville.  I realized I'd be doing 5 of the original 6, looked up Old Dominion 100 (OD), which was formerly a part of the Grand Slam, between 1986 when Tom Green first finished OD, Western States, Leadville and Wasatch in the same summer, and Tom is at it again this summer 28 years later (Go Tom Go!). Old Dominion was a part of the Slam until 2003 when OD did not happen and Vermont has formally replaced it in the Slam every year since.  Since my modified Grand Slam (the Slam+AC) only allotted 2-3 weeks between each race, it didn't seem like much more of a stretch to throw in OD 3 weeks before that all began.  NOTE: I joked far too often that Old Dominion was my "warm-up race" and that joke bit me in the rear.  OD kicked my butt, and I was taught that joking about how one race will be easier is a very dangerous mental space to be in.

The Torrey Pines Glider Port (Cliff) Stairs and Blacks Beach

I DNF'd for the second consecutive February at a SoCal 50 mile race (2014 was the inaugural Sean O'Brien, a race I helped lay out, and test ran in October to create an elevation profile, and 2013 I failed to finish the Ray Miller 50 Mile before going on to complete Angeles Crest and Leadville later that year), and I'm holding my breath that it was a good omen (although I have to work out my string of lifetime DNF's the second time I run a course which includes 2 hundreds and 2 fifties).  That was a wake up call.  Training got a lot more consistent after that.  Life, however, failed to cooperate with my extended training plans for this challenge.  From February to late-May, ultimately I averaged 47.5 miles per week, which included an entire month where my mileage total didn't eclipse 62 miles (for the entire month!).  At one point, spent about 2 weeks with my mom who had a horseback riding accident that led to her fracturing L1 and requiring some significant medical care for the first phase of her recovery.  I got to know the running available in La Jolla, California pretty intimately as I'd help administer my mom's meds and home care, then head out the door for a couple hours of sand running & cliff repeats near the Torrey Pines Glider Port & Blacks Beach.  Looking back on this, it may have been the longest half month of my life.  Seeing a loved one that injured is beyond any emotional or physical stress I have ever experienced.  My mom is greatly improved (3 months into her recovery) and may have dodged a bullet not immediately needing a major 5 vertebrae spinal fusion surgery.  Yay, mom!  Got really sick for about 8 days after that, and didn't feel like myself (running or otherwise) for another 3-4 weeks.  When all that dust settled, I was 3 weeks from race #1 in the #O6HC


"Good judgment comes from experience.  Experience comes from bad judgment."
-Mark Twain


Instead of going through and writing a blow-by-blow recap of the 3 one-hundred mile races I've already gone through (which I promise to recap via podcast or video-blog, at the very least), I'll let you know a few of the epiphanies and reflections that could hopefully be more useful to you in your running or life goals.

*Never underestimate 100 miles  - researching all 6 races in this series, both Old Dominion and Vermont had the least aggressive elevation profiles and fastest historical finishing times.  I went into OD saying, "this is my warm up 100" and the race beat me down pretty soundly.  Kate has seen me run this distance at least a dozen times, and said she had never seen me looking that broken at the end of a race.  Every 100 will have it's own unique (and idiosyncratic) challenges.  Respect the distance.  Respect the conditions.  Seek to uncover the hidden challenges of an event prior to starting.  I was geared up for the challenge of the humidity, when my left peroneal tendon went out, I realize I had never considered what cambered country roads would do to me.

*Plan to flow (and how to flow when the plan disintegrates) - mentality conditioning is as important as physical conditioning in difficult life and running adventures.  Look to unlock your Zen by practicing some mantras and putting forth a positive perspective (or assigning silver linings to tough situations) in training and in life, prior to the adversity that will inevitably find you in your goal events.  In the early stages of the Vermont 100, I noticed a piece of trash on the trail, which I picked up to put in my handheld water bottle sleeve.  The paper, when examined, was from a fortune cookie.  The fortune?
"You can't control the wind, but you can adjust your sails."

Frolicking at Western States around Mile 38

This thought stuck with me the rest of the day.  I couldn't control when/where my difficulty would arise, but I could determine what attitude I approached the difficulty with, and make adjustments to my plan for that race.  That sourced me the rest of the day and worked very, very well.

*Far more fun to be had rooting FOR people than wasting energy rooting AGAINST someone - I have met and enjoyed the company of no less than 30 people over the 300 miles Andy and I have covered thus far (in Virginia, NorCal and Vermont).  To qualify that, I've talked to more than 300 people, but have held at least 3-5 minute conversations during the race, with probably around 1 person every 10 miles.  I love hearing a person's (aka new friend's) story.  Why they do this crazy $#!^ too, what they are up to in this one precious life of theirs.  First half of the race it's generally talking about life, goals and dreams type of stuff.  Second half of the race, often times we're talking about problems we're having, a running issue we need to trouble shoot, (adjusted) goals for the race, and how we can help each other achieve them.  The last time I remember actively rooting against some one (save any member of the Los Angeles Dodgers, LA Kings, or Dallas Cowboys) was Rollie the Goalie after seeing his cheap antics of the 2006 NHL Playoffs.  Honestly, don't even ask.  When it comes to ultrarunning, a few people have made it clear to me that they are rooting against me (again, don't ask) and I can't even find the energy to return favor.  There's so much goodwill, and positive humanity around 100 mile mountain races, I find that I want everyone to have their best day.  We all know we're in for trials, for discomfort or bone-jarring pain, and the day/night/day will be an adventure.  The kinship this activity breeds is what makes this community so special to me.  So even if I get it in my head that I want to "finish before you do" which never equates to me as "beating someone" as there are only a few rare friends I even think this way about (Mike Chamoun, Karl Hoagland, Eric Wickland, George Gleason, Kate Martini, etc.), I still want you to have your A+ day out there, and want it to be a fun story for both of us to share a beer over when we're long since old-and-gray.  So do what you can out there to help people succeed, yes, help your fellow competitors.  It will make you feel better (and forget your current issues for a moment).  That good mojo will feed back into your race.  But don't do it for the mojo.  Do it because you want to see yourself as kind, generous and graceful.  Never know, you might turn someone's day/race around.  That feels better than a finish (to me).

I could wax on (and wax off) a lot longer on these things, and these three races.  But there's a lot more decompressing to do, and 3 more races to "run".  I'm going to sign off now and get this thing up, as it's been too long a dry spell for this #WannaBeWriter

10 Ways Running 100 Miles Over Mountains is like a Weekend in VEGAS!

I saw Little Miss Sunshine (yes, for the first time) a couple nights ago.  It's the second film I've seen in the past few months with a speaker who doesn't live his message (Donnie Darko was the other).  I know I'm not Jim Cunningham (Patrick Swayze's charater) nor am I Richard Hoover (although I'm not too far off of Richard Hoover's "don't stop, no matter what the circumstances dictate" mantra), but sometimes I worry about losing my audience being overtly content & happy many days.  Henceforth, I'm going to work to integrate this blog into three types of posts:

1- life lessons (stemming from the adversity I've faced)
2- adventurous stories (tall tales, many running related)
3- silly perspective posts (every so often to lighten the mood)

It's going to be a unique soup of posts, but there you have it.  I'm all over the place sometimes, so this will better represent me too.  Without further ado...




10 WAYS RUNNING 100 MILES OVER MOUNTAINS IS LIKE A WEEKEND IN VEGAS!

10. Some people stop in the light of day, but many will be pulling an all nighter.

9. Waking up the morning after, we all ask ourselves why we just did that to ourselves.

"Never, ever again!  This time I mean it!  For reals!"

8. The longer we keep going, the less we seem to care when we throw up on a friend, on our shoes or in one of our own bags (shout out to Puck!).

7. Friends always make it more fun.  They can also validate and legitimize your stories of what really happened.

6. Aid station hopping can be just as fun as club/bar hopping.

5. After a crazy night, all we want to do the next day is lounge by the pool.

4. You're either going to have a good time, a great horror story, or both. Chances are you'll see some $#!^ you've never seen before.

3. The wetter you get, often times, the better the story is... TWSS?

2. You might have a crazy naked dude *chase you with a crowbar.
*In the 100, you're probably just hallucinating. Probably.

1. the cougars love the night life!
(Photo Credit: Steve Winter/National Geographic)

BONUS: you might end up passing out on the bathroom floor in either.

Photo Credit: Coach Jen Vogel - Instagram.com/UltraIronJen 

BONUS: in both, there's always a photo or two we hope doesn't end up on social media!

What is Chamoun doing here???

Don't worry Chamoun, this isn't my best look either.

What have you experienced in a 100 miler (or Vegas) that you can relate to both activities!?  Hope you enjoyed the list...

Overemphasis on Training in 100 Mile Trail Run Prep - Angeles Crest 100 Lessons 2006-2014

"Nothing on Earth can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on Earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude."
-Thomas Jefferson

BAD ATTITUDE 101 - Angeles Crest 2006 at Eagle's Roost

I am not the most qualified person to be telling you how to train for a 100 mile mountain race.  I am not fast, and am lucky to crack the Top 25 of a deep race field.  I don't even log high mileage all that often (number of weeks in 2013 over 70 miles = 6, number of 100+ mile weeks not including a week with a 100 mile race in 2013 = 0).  I have even coached runners for Angeles Crest (and various other 100 milers) that have failed to finish their respective races (don't ask about my Dave 'Comet' Chan story, please).  There are many more qualified AC experts out there.

All that aside, you have found this blog entry (so pull up a chair and stay a moment).  I'm here to present a perspective that I've been chewing on for a few years now, something I've struggled to fully grasp or articulate, but it crystallized in a conversation with a fellow student of 100 milers, and someone far more credible than I (who will likely blog on this very topic in the near future *nudge, nudge* ).

Okay, I lied, look how pretty I am here.

Running 100 miles (or "migrating 100 miles", to quote my fellow blogger Ashley) in a single day is a brutal challenge.  It tests us physically and psychologically, sometimes to the very fabric of our being.  It strips us of all excess energy, to the point where all facades fall away and we're left raw and emotive, just a primal being often going off of pure grit and gut instinct.  In my case this is often not a pretty sight.  For some of my closest friends it is a time to fully enjoy the show, as I behave in ways I might not want to be seen behaving at any other time (at least publicly).  I might throw a tantrum or two. I sometimes complain. I often puke. Sometimes I even cry like a baby.  And hold on to your seat for this one, there are instances I am dead quiet for extended periods of time.  *GASP!*

Chamoun leads Gleason up Williamson - AC 2012

I'd estimate in all of the training programs I've personally executed over the last 12 years preparing for marathons and longer races, my two most dedicated, high mileage, most focused training programs were in 2006 training for my first Angeles Crest 100 Miler and in 2008/2009 training for the Western States 100.  Interestingly enough, until I tried to run my 2nd hundred miler in a 2 week period (AC/Leadville back-to-back in 2013), both AC '06 and States '09 were my two most difficult 100 milers (see: most frequent low points, most death marching, and highest cumulative time in aid stations).  I don't care if you finish these races in 18 hours (or faster) or 30 hours, to me, speed is relative and it is an impressive feat of courage (and foolishness) to even toe the line of one of these monster mountain endurance runs.  Conversely, two races I probably had the least consistent training for, AC '13 and Rocky Raccoon '10, I had some of my better times.  Yes, those are wildly different events. I suffered tremendously at AC last year due to my lack of training (and other influencing factors), but I ran times I consider to be good for me at those two events (with less than ideal training).  This had me examining some of the finer points of 100 mile race prep with many friends of mine who have a depth of personal experience at 100 miles.  Leading up to a conversation between Pam, Kate and I, about interesting and notable performances on less than ideal training earlier this week.

As far as I'm concerned, this hypothesis could apply to the Pam Smith's (see: runners who win races) just as much as it does athletes who are fighting cutoffs for a high percentage of the race, and everyone in between.  Granted, the athlete who has less than ideal training might not be competitive for a win in today's deeper fields of competitors since most elites I've read up on now consider every element of what I'm about to talk to you about.

DISCLAIMER: I do not intend to insinuate that an athlete does not have to train very much to finish a 100 mile race.  Training up to this distance is essential.  Doing so intelligently, patiently (over an extended period of time), and consistently over race specific terrain is ideal.  The goal should be arriving at the starting line healthy, rather than "how many times can I run 100 miles in my weekly training" no matter the consequences.

HYPOTHESIS:  a great many athletes, especially first timers, place a dramatic overemphasis on training in prep for a 100 mile mountain race

To say this another way: many of us focus so much on cumulative weekly miles, running fast, running up steep terrain, tempo runs, speed work, stair repeats, strength training and getting physically ready that we overlook some pretty essential aspects of 100 mile racing (not to say we're all racing, but 100 miles in an event is distinct from just going out to do 100 miles on your own with no time constraints).

What often gets overlooked when training is overemphasized:

Checklists of everything I could possibly anticipate: AC 2012 edition

*Nutrition - both day-to-day diet influencing metabolic efficiency and effective race day nutrition strategies
*Mental Strategies - conditioning ourselves to think in a way that empowers and inspires our best effort, learning to deal with the inevitable and often devastating lows of a 100 mile run.  This can include mantras, anticipation of difficulty and acceptance of certain problematic scenarios.
*Hydration/Electrolyte Replenishment - there are many schools of thought here, but often athletes don't even consider how little (or how much) they're drinking or how an electrolyte imbalance might affect their race
*Pacing Plan vs Exertion Plan - you might think to yourself here, "nope, I always have a pacing plan" and that's one of my key points: we are often more focused on some target race time than actually adjusting to the effort/exertion level that is appropriate at that moment based on the signals our body is sending us, which can be greatly affected by conditions (heat, altitude, wind, terrain, humidity, etc.).  This doesn't just mean running too fast, it's sometimes being too conservative.
*Attitude - I hold this one slightly distinct from "mental strategies" although it is closely related.  A positive mentality can sometimes help us look at the same (sometimes ugly) circumstances and instead of panicking or having an emotional breakdown, we can smile and laugh about it.

"Do as I say, not as I do." -  IPA & a donut???

I'm the last person who can tell you what you should be doing for nutrition, but for many athletes, it seems to be almost an afterthought.  Fueling strategies implemented on race day aren't tried-and-true for most.  Sometimes, athletes that have something they've practiced a ton in training goes haywire on race day because of aid station grazing (those candies and cookies look great, I'll have a couple).

Hydration and electrolyte replacement is really personal.  There are some diametrically opposed schools of thought here on how much one should drink and whether one should supplement with electrolytes or not.  Again, if you've given no thought to it, it's just guesswork.  It's amazing that so many athletes spend a year planning to run 100 miles, pouring hours into physical training each week, many more hours just thinking about it, without consideration for anything specific here.

Pacing plans: here's the thing, if you are seeking to finish your first 100 mile race, finishing will be a PR.  Some athletes get so caught up in buckling, going for sub-24's, and completely ignoring the redline signals because of pace splits for a goal time that they sacrifice the finish.  And it has proven to be a grotesque oxymoron for me (and dozens of the athletes I train) that when I focus on everything but my splits, I run my fastest time.  When I focus on my time splits, I fall off them pretty quickly and then have to deal with my negative emotions around that early failure.

"Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference."
-Winston Churchill

Hurting: Mile 52 at AC in 2011. Attitude shift necessary.

Attitude/Mentality: I remember a few years back being too sick to start the Lake Sonoma 50 Miler, on race day I ended up working race check in and helping build the finish line area.  I got to cheer a few Coyotes and a few other friends across the finish line.  I remember one girl in particular who finished mid-pack and threw a tantrum to her friends, "That was the worst day of my life!" she sobbed.  I sat there awestruck.  Wait, didn't you just finish 50 miles?  What about the people still out there, behind you?  What about the people who DNF'd today?  I will never know this girl's name, but she taught me an amazing lesson that day: embrace the hurt locker.  I went on to Angeles Crest that summer (four months later) and every time I felt miserable, I thought to myself "I'm still moving forward at a decent clip, it could be worse, I'm so grateful to be out here doing this..." and it changed my race.  Without very much race specific training that summer, I ran my fastest AC100 time.  A huge part of that was my perspective shifting.  I put a lot of thought into it beforehand.  How am I going to feel out there?  Probably pretty crappy at some point, but that's what I signed up for.

In summary, there are so many pieces to traveling 100 miles on foot, in a single go.  Training may be a key piece of that, but if you don't consider every other piece, you might just be throwing a lot of that training down the drain.

Another parting shot, a clip of the conversation between Pam, Kate and I:
Pam - "So, how fast do you have to run to go sub-24 in 100 miles?"
JDF - "You gotta run 12-13 minute miles, depending on how much time is wasted in aid. Overall 14:30-ish average."
Pam - "Right. So really, how fit does one have to be to maintain 12-13 minute pace?"
JDF - "Depends on the course, I guess?"
Pam - "Sure, but don't you think it's not often the pace that sabotages one's sub-24 goal, but rather, poor nutrition plans, sour stomachs, and not being ready for the low points (mentally)?"
JDF - "Interesting point, Pam..."

Mr. & Mrs. Smith (photobomb by yours truly)

There's a good chance you'll see Pam on the starting line at Angeles Crest this year with a personal vendetta against AC.  I met Pam in 2010 at AC, at Mile 42.  She was trying to drop out and her husband Mac persuaded me to convince Pam to continue.  So she dropped out at the first aid station that was crew inaccessible.  Coincidentally, it was the aid station where I branded myself with my first ever DNF too, Mile 49, the Mt. Hillyer checkpoint.  Whether there in 2014 or not, I'm betting on Pam to finish her next AC...

My Angeles Crest 100 History in finishing (or DNF) photos:

2006 - Finish, 26:27

2007 - DNF at Mile 49

2011 - Finish,   23:51  (first AC silver)

2012 - Finish, 22:38

2013 - Finish, 23:39

2014 - ????

No idea what this year holds in store, but I know Angeles Crest will hypothetically be my 4th 100 mile race inside of 2 months (June 7 - August 2).  I'm ready to be schooled again by one of my favorite mountain ranges anywhere... and I'll be hitting the starting line leaving no stone unturned...

Overcome Your Biggest Fears - Commitment vs Fear Exercise

"The hero is no braver than an ordinary man - but he is brave five minutes longer."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

More than a decade ago (1996-2000 time frame), I was consumed by my fear of things not turning out in my life.  I was hesitant, apprehensive, and worrisome.  I had been telling myself for 5 years that I would make the move from the San Francisco Bay Area to Los Angeles, and hoped I'd run a marathon someday (yes, my first marathon).  I was also in a holding pattern in my romantic relationships.  One day I woke up sick and tired of being stopped by my fear.  Not long after having these thoughts 9/11/01 happened providing me a defining moment of courage.  Sometime between then and now, many people started relating to me as fearless.  That perception couldn't be further from the truth, as I am as terrified as I always was.

Sometimes fear seems so much bigger than we are.

So, an ostrich walks into a bar...

While I am indeed someone who routinely runs extreme mountain and desert races, I took a 6 year turn as a stand up comic (not that I was ever really funny), married the girl of my dreams after 7 years of trying to convince her I was the guy of her dreams (I guess I'm still trying to convince her), and I willingly get up in front of large groups of strangers to give speeches (check out this awesome USA Today Money article on taming public speaking fears), the one thing that is a constant is that I am still very much afraid.

I fear failing at the things most important to me.  I fear people not liking me.  I fear those not liking me being vocal in their disapproval (the cliche unhappy cool kids at school talking behind your back in a mean spirited way).  I fear trying to inspire people (and having them walk away uninspired).  I fear being judged (harshly).  I fear running 100 miles (and not finishing or worse, walking away not able to run due to injury).  I fear the failure of my relationship.  I fear sadness, due to my past battles with depression.  I have a lot more to lose today than I did in the late 90's and early 2000's.  Being older (maybe wiser) I understand the consequences of my actions (and not following through on things).  I feel the emotional impact of letting people down a lot deeper than before.  My anxiousness and fears have only escalated.

The very serpent that helped me overcome my fear of snakes in 2006.

I turned a corner in my life in late 2000, where I realized that there may be no place where I feel more alive, than when confronting my greatest fears, and when facing my darkest demons. When facing one's fear, there arises a sense of power you can not experience while armchair quarterbacking your favorite reality TV show. When you are out in life doing (rather than thinking about doing) you are experiencing life real time, you are more present, more alive and turned on, plugged in and vital. This, my friends, is what life could be about.  It is what I've made my life about.

It took me years to learn the tough lessons of what ignoring my fear (especially of failure) creates in my life.  I still experience breakthroughs in this area from time to time.  Last Sunday was another example of this for me.  It's interesting how having your life flash before your eyes brings crystal clarity about what's important to you and how precious and fragile life really is.  It can all change in a second.  A single moment can bring us to our knees.

Together 12 years, married for 5 so far!

What fear is presently holding you back? Are you not asking for a promotion? Are you wanting to switch jobs or even careers?  Are you not signing up for your dream race (the one that terrifies you)? Are you not telling a special friend how you really feel about them? Are you not taking calculated risks towards what your soul desires, what you crave to feel fully alive???

**Imagine me shaking you by the shoulders right now, SHAKING YOU VIGOROUSLY**

WAKE UP, MY FRIEND!!! Your life is right now, today, happening this very moment. Why are you wasting it empowering your fears!?!?

I have a little game I remind myself of when I realize I've become complacent.  Sometimes I over think and rationalize my inaction.  It is a simple mental reframing of commitment vs fear.  We are either more committed to what we want to create in life, or we are hiding behind our fear.  It's an either or thing.  There comes an aha moment when you realize that overcoming our fear doesn't mean being fearless, as courage is really defined by acting in the face of our greatest fears.  The larger and deeper the fear runs, the more courageous the act.  We all have more courage than we can possibly imagine.

So, are you going to be committed to your dreams and desires, or will you empower your fears?  The choice seems simple, but only action solidifies that commitment.

"There are those of us who are always about to live. We are waiting until things change, until there is more time, until we are less tired, until we get a promotion, until we settle down / until, until, until. It always seems as if there is some major event that must occur in our lives before we begin living."
-George Sheehan


I invite you to do something today that scares you.  Yes, even that very thing you've been avoiding.  The thing you are hiding out from.  Life is shorter than we relate to it being.  Fear puts the soul to sleep, except when we are facing it.  If you're reading this, I love you. I believe in you.  It will feel really good to no longer be captive to that fear.  Do it.  Come on, you can, I promise you can.

Now go take on some dragons.

Each accomplishment  is merely the starting point of another dream.

Meeting My Maker on a Sunday Night - My Aron Ralston Near Miss

"The word adventure has gotten overused. For me, when everything goes wrong, that’s when adventure starts."

-Yvon Chouinard

I am so glad you are reading this blog entry.  Let me rephrase that, I am so glad I am sitting at my computer on a Monday and am not presently buried beneath dense foliage in a ravine with a broken leg, or worse.  It was a rough night, last night...

NOT A THROUGH TRAIL - that sign is for other people... not for me!

I've been running my whole life.  I have come to develop an identity problem which is to say, I can't imagine myself not running.  I can't even imagine identifying as something else.  My wife Kate is struggling with that identity challenge right now (she broke her right leg and had surgery in November), and I'm doing all I can to support her emotionally and physically through it (stopping just short of running way less myself so she's not confronted by that reality).  It is one of the greatest challenges we've yet faced as a couple.  Sometimes we're both worn down emotionally, and we get into a fight over absolutely nothing (bear with me, this sets something else up).  We have recently fought over navigation, missing part of a hockey game, leaving the house on time, and an online GoPro order.  Seriously folks, these fights might have had a deep undercurrent of something else, but they were fights about absolutely nothing of substance.  Nothing essential, nor important.  The last two fights we had were back-to-back nights (Friday & Saturday) and combine with that my not running nor working out since Thursday, come Sunday I was in a bad, overly emotional, and mentally dark place.

So I went out for a run Sunday mid afternoon.  I didn't know how far or for how long I'd be gone, but I knew I needed something long to clear my head.

Backbone Trail selfie, almost one of my last photos...

***FLASHBACK***

Last bit of sunlight fades away... this is getting interesting.

It's around 4:45pm, Sunday, January 12, 2014.  The sun has long since disappeared over Temescal Ridge & Cathedral Rock, and I'm buried in a canyon in the Santa Monica Mountains, part of the north splintering of Rustic Canyon.  I have taken a horribly wrong turn.  Wandering up a creek bed I thought was part of the old (and heavily overgrown) Bay Tree Trail, I got stuck where landslides have boxed the creek in, so I start to climb out & around it.  I find myself on the side of a crumbling rocky hillside utilizing plants & branches to not fall down the steep slope.  At one point, every brittle, dry piece of chaparral is breaking off in my hands, no matter how thick or deeply rooted it seemed.  The rock starts to crumble under my trail shoes and I notice that there's nothing to catch my fall before about a 4-story (60 foot?) drop into the rocky creek bed below.  Looking off into the distance, I'm probably 3/4's of a mile from any real trail.  I don't have my cell phone.  I don't have a light.  Nobody knows where I am.  "Genius, Jimmy! Absolute genius,"  I say to myself.  My last bit of ambient daylight is fading like a K-mart beach towel.  I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up.  I must start carefully calculating every movement, and at the same time, if I stay in the same spot too long, the hill will crumble beneath my 180+ lbs. and give way to big air.  I force myself to keep moving and mentally brace myself for the worst.

Trying not to achieve a similar fate, unsettling at best.

Thankfully, I'm not panicking, but I am acutely aware that if I fall, I'm very likely going to be too injured to crawl out, in a place inhabited by at least one mountain lion (I've discovered lion scat and deer skat on the game trail I'm now crawling up to get to the ridge).  After crawling sideways and upwards for at least 45 minutes, breaking branches to climb towards the ridge line, I end up in a clearing (relief).  With two large sets of bones (relief just left the building).

"When I've lost my way or when I am confused about a path to take, I remember that most answers I need I already possess – deep inside. I am naturally creative, resourceful and whole. If I consult my invisible compass, I’ll know what to do."

-Steve Goodier

Estimated route = GREEN / Incidents = YELLOW

The sun is now gone but atop this ridge I'm getting a little light from a relatively full moon (full moon is 3 days later).  I start to realize crawling through this game trail at dusk (in darkness) probably isn't a great strategy anymore.  I can see the lights of the San Fernando Valley about 1.5 to 2 miles to the north, but would have to drop into another canyon/ravine to get there.  I resolve to keep climbing and to stay standing as much as I can to avoid looking like the prey of a cougar.  I climb through multiple brier patches and stop occasionally to pick a half dozen to dozen thorns out of my hands.  I'm still not panicking, but I'm wondering if I should hunker down and wait for daylight.  I have half a bottle of water left, a 200 calorie granola bar, and my legs are starting to cramp from the fatigue of forcefully climbing through (and over) dense vegetation.  After what seems like 2 hours, but is probably in reality 75-90 minutes of dusk, I reach the ridge line above Fire Road 30 (a single track trail we jokingly call Flyer Road 30), one of my favorite lesser known paths in the Santa Monica Mountains.  I am overcome with emotion.  Not really joy, but rather, a profound relief that I'm not hurt, and I'm not spending the night facing the fears I was just crawling out of a canyon with.  I dump the rocks and dirt out of both shoes and start to piece together how I'm going to get home.  At the very least, I feel safe again.
***END FLASHBACK***

First photo after crawling out of the unknown.

Looking homeless, dirty, cut & bruised.

I have always had a rule to not drink when I'm upset, angry or depressed.  I have a new rule now to not go trail exploring when in that same space.  When I went running yesterday, I didn't know where I was going to go.  I didn't know for how long, nor how far I was going to run.  As I ran up Sullivan Ridge, I made up my mind to do a loop that dropped into Murphy's Ranch, climbed J-Drop then the section of the Backbone Trail known as Rogers Road, take Temescal Ridge to the Hub Junction, drop down Fire Road 30 to Bent Arrow connecting to Dirt Mulholland, then run that to Sullivan Ridge, and drop back down to my car.  I estimate this loop to be something between 15-18 miles.  When I reached the upper part of Rogers Road, there's a drop down trail back into Rustic Canyon called Bay Tree.  I've always wanted to explore it, and know 2-3 people who have.  I thought, "I know there will be some bushwhacking, I know there's not much daylight left, but what the hell, it's only a couple of miles!"  I had a secondary intuitive sense that said, "this is gonna be an adventure" and I thought, "hell yeah, I'm ready for an adventure!"

My skin is gashed and bruised all over, this is one small sample.

This was the part where I greatly erred.  I ignored my intuition which said, "this is shaping up to be a bad idea.  Ooh, sounds like a fun bad idea!"

RULES I ALREADY KNEW (AND PREACH)

*Whenever possible, don't run trails alone

*When running alone, let someone know your planned route

*Have a planned route

*Carry a cell phone, in case you get stuck and need to alert someone

*Carry a light if there's any possibility of getting lost or running after dark

*Carry more than adequate fluid & calories in case you get lost

*If you get to an impassable patch of trail/creek bed, turn around and retrace your steps, don't be a hero

*Let someone know your planned route (restated for it's importance)

*Help others learn from your most boneheaded mistakes (check)

A NEW RULE

*Just like drinking: when you are upset, don't go seeking "adventure" on the trails, just go run a super intense speed workout on a track or treadmill or something like that

GENERAL LIFE SIDE NOTE

Consider for a moment the last thing you said to your loved ones.  Would you be okay with that message if it was the last you ever delivered to them?  One of the things that haunted me, maybe what I was afraid of the most out there, was if the last things Kate & I said to each other (prior to my misadventure) were etched into eternity as the final exchange we had.  I got home and we immediately put it all behind us.  You have an opportunity to say things to the people you love, from love, each and every time you're with them.  I encourage you to utilize every opportunity to do that.  For your own sake.

Thanks for reading this.  I appreciate you (even if we don't know each other), no matter where you stand.  One more parting thought:

"If you can't be a good example, you'll just have to serve as a horrible warning."