I had the opportunity to be on Vespa’s Food For Thought Podcast. We talk nutrition, life and my experience chasing and setting a new double record of the combined times of Western States 100 and Hardrock 100 with only 19 days between. Giddyup.
Completion of The Double. Photo by Mountain Peak Fitness.
Interesting article on Fat Adaptation and Endurance. I’ve definitely experienced the shift this season. Better recovery from less oxidative stress, stable energy and better weight balance.
Just under 12 hours until go time for Act Two of the Western States/Hardrock double. New for 2016: All runners are wearing GPS Spot Trackers (My bib is #114): http://www.hardrock100.com/hardrock-trackleaders.php and photos and commentary on iRunFar.com Twitter feed. Start is Friday at 6am MTN. We get the amazing opportunity to pass through some of the tallest and rugged mountains in the Lower 48. So excited. Love this race. 100 miles of SW Colorado’s huge and gorgeous San Juan mountains. Giddyup.
The upper drainage descending to Cunningham Gulch. Mile 90 of the 2016 clockwise running of Hardrock 100.
Jesse Haynes and I attempted to run through the Owyhee Canyonlands in 4 days in early May. Goal was to run the last 170 miles of the new Oregon Desert Trail (ODT) — an off-trail set of GPS waypoints through Eastern Oregon’s vast high desert — we made it 142 miles. Check out the short story and photo essay at Patagonia’s TheCleanestLine.com. Giddyup.
Jesse and I hope to outrun the storm on day 3 in the Owyhee Canyonlands. Photo by Jonathan Byers.
I ran down to the river’s edge and a volunteer quickly buckled the life vest on and I plunged into the river without a second to spare. Hand over hand as I grasped the rope and quickly pulled myself across laying on my side, body fully submerged to get my core temperature down. The volunteers stationed in the river on the rope line reminding the whole way “hand over hand.”
With temps hitting over a 100 in the American River Canyon and 78 miles on my legs, the cold river felt like heaven at the Rucky Chucky crossing. I was now in 7th and had not been able to shake Scotland’s Paul Giblin since I passed him just after Cal Street. Still only a minute back, I could see him and his pacer lurking. I had made a pact with myself on the way to the river, I hadn’t been passed since mile 25 and no one was passing me to the finish.
Crossing the finish line with my 3 kids. Photo by Matt Trappe.
Western States is a unique race for me personally. It was my first 100 in 2002. It was my induction into the tight-knit community of ultrarunning. At that time in 2002, I had casually been dabbling in ultras. I’d run three 50Ks, a 50 miler and a 100K in the 15 months leading up to my first 100. I saw myself “playing around” in ultra trail races, something to mark off a life bucket list. Also an avid mountain biker and climber, I dabbled in running to stay leaner for climbing and exercise the dog before stumbling into the sport in 2001. I didn’t identify myself as a runner until States in ’02, it was the pivotal experience that made me identify myself as an runner and more specifically — an ultrarunner.
In 2002 I ran just under 24 hours — 23 hours and 38 minutes to earn my first 100 mile belt buckle. My wife was 9 months pregnant. My oldest son, Benjamin, was a mere 3 weeks from coming into the world when I stepped on the Placer High School track in Auburn.
Since that day, 14 years ago, I’ve dreamed of coming back and running Western States again. As I progressed as an ultra runner, I kept ticking off 100 mile finishes. After winning a few 100s, I started trying to get back into States. By the late 2000s, it was so popular it was nearly impossible to get in. I tried racing in several times, entering on special consideration, the lottery — all to no avail. Finally sponsorship exchanged hands this year and Altra offered me a coveted spot. After such a long wait, I was determined not to waste the opportunity. I wanted to see what I could do on the first and oldest 100 mile trail race. One that always boasts a deep field of fast dudes.
When I got into Western States (I was already in Hardrock 100), my wife sat our kids down and asked would they rather go to Western States or Hardrock? My oldest immediately said “Western States!” Since the family has been to Hardrock recently (2014), he wanted to see the famous Western States firsthand. He’s seen me follow this race online every year, talk about it, express my deep desire to get into it. But, I almost didn’t make it to the start line.
I almost blew it. After the Memorial Day training runs, two days after that big training weekend, I stupidly did a hard strength training workout and ran a tempo run and my right calf cramped. By the time I got back home from my run, I was limping. Immediately I went into triage mode and called my ART buddy Mark DeJohn and got ART work on it. I schedule multiple massage sessions with my friend, Austin Baillie. It was still not good. I tried to run. Limped back from an easy 7-miler.
As my wife will attest, a dark cloud descended upon the Browning household. It was getting better but I still could only run 20-30 minutes on it before it would get sore again. I jumped on the bike. I road everyday for 80-100 minutes, then ran 20 minutes easy on it right afterward. 10-11 minute pace. It started to heal. By all self-diagnosis, I had a level 1 strain, a micro tear. That meant tapering early and no last block of downhill running and tempo work to get ready for the quad-thrashing downhills and leg speed needed at Western States to stay up front. I was definitely nervous.
By 10 days out I could run an hour with no pain in the calf. I was doing essential oil and castor oil heat packs while I worked on my computer. I slept in it too. Epsom salt soaks. More massage. Another ART session. I finished my heat training doing power hike workouts on the treadmill and spinning my head off on my road and mountain bike.
Hindsight is 20/20. I beat myself up mentally for being so stupid. I knew better. How could I not take a strategic easy week after the training runs weekend. This was my 24th hundred. I did something I would never coach someone to do. How could I be so dumb. I prayed. I rolled on my foam roller. I did yoga. I prayed some more. I was pulling out all the stops. Everything in my bag of ultra and life experiences I could muster. I had to make it to the start line. This might be my only shot. I sure wasn’t getting any younger.
The Saturday before, I went for a 10 mile evening run in the mountains, complete with 30-40 downed trees to navigate. Jumping, scrambling and running one of my favorite loops near Tumalo Falls. As I descended the final 4 miles to the trailhead, everything felt normal again. I had not been mentally prepared to race until that moment, 7 days before. That was the workout I needed to let my mind relax. I knew that I’d had a mondo spring of training volume and 16 years of ultras, 23 hundreds. I would have to rely on my vast body and mind experience to pull from come race day. I was ready. I tapered and relaxed.
Come race morning, I did my normal routine and showed up in the pre-dawn light to nestle myself into the 2nd row of runners at the start line next to Jesse Haynes and Chris Denucci. We talked about running smart. Chris said he’d learned from the previous year’s race that 100s aren’t the same as 100Ks. You have to race them differently. I agreed, gave him a shoulder pat and said “patience.” The gun went off.
We made our way up the first climb to Escarpment and over Immigrant Pass. I was surprised that two of the top speedsters and virgin 100 milers, Jim Walmsley and Sage Canaday, were not hammering off the front. They were hiking some, running, sticking in the pack. I was impressed with their start strategy.
I topped the first climb and dropped off into the Sierra high country relaxed and enjoying the scenery. Chris Mocko went by me, then Jim Walmsley flew by running sub-7 pace. Paul Terranova and Bob Shebest passed me. They all quickly left me to the early morning quiet of the Granite Chief Wilderness. I stuck to my relaxed pace and let the early miles roll by. Mocko and I ran some of the early miles together, leapfrogging. We rolled through Lyon Ridge aid and soon Red Star.
I realized at this point, I’d forgotten my Vespa concentrates in the hotel room. I’d taken the pre-race Vespa, but spaced throwing the concentrates in my Strider Pro pockets. Dang. I noticed I needed a few more carb calories without it than when I take Vespa every 2 hours while sipping on Gu Roctane. I tried not to stress, they were in my drop bag at Robinson Flat.
As we approached Duncan Canyon, I gapped Mocko and caught up to Peter Fain as we arrived the Duncan Canyon aid and I left ahead of him in 17th. This would be the last place anyone passed me.
Grabbing some quick calories at Duncan Canyon aid station. Photo by Miriam Simon Cater
The heat was starting to rise as I approached Robinson Flat at mile 30. I cruised through, ditched my arm warmers, got an ice bandana and bottle swap from my crew, Erik Schulte. I took a Vespa and 20 minutes later, I felt on again — focused and level energy while I sipped on Roctane.
I caught a few more runners on my way to Dusty Corner and Last Chance.
I was cruising the descent and reeled in Paul Terranova and Stephen Wassather before the Devil’s Thumb climb. We arrived at the spring at the start of the climb and I dunked my hat and kept moving, while they lingered behind. I felt good on the climbs with my hiking legs Hardrock-ready and soon couldn’t see those guys. I hiked hard and ran some of the few runnable sections up the 36 switchbacks of Devil’s Thumb. I spotted Denucci just ahead of me on the last grunt climb up to the aid station. I left the aid station right behind Chris and soon passed him on the descent into Eldorado Creek. I came into Michigan Bluff in 11th place feeling solid.
While I was grabbing resupply of Roctane and S Caps, AJW gave me a pep talk. I was feeling good, I was in and out quick with Erik’s help and running the gravel road. I soon passed Spain’s Tòfol Castanyer and dropped into Volcano Canyon in 10th. On the climb up to Bath Road, I caught Bob Shebest and ran most of the road to Foresthill with everyone telling me Sharman was less than 2 minutes in front of me. Erik had run down with liquid calories and water and I drank and doused myself with water as I ran into Foresthill with him.
Running up Bath Road. Photo by Chris Blagg
As I came into Foresthill, my family was ready to crew me. I ran through, checked in and out and found them just past the aid station, ready. Annie gave me an ice bandana and my youngest, Abraham, handed me my bottles (just like we’d practiced). I threw some ice in my hat and left Foresthill in 7th, passing Sharman in the aid station. My buddy Scott Wolfe asked me as I was heading out… “You goin’ huntin’?” To which I replied. “Yeah I am!” I felt solid, good spirits and ready to race.
Cooling off with an ice bandana from my daughter at Foresthill. Photo by Benjamin Browning.
As I descended Cal Street, I could see Paul Giblin and his pacer just ahead of me. I relaxed and soon reeled them in about a mile out of Foresthill. The remainder of the way to the river — the next 15 miles — Paul was just behind me, less than a minute. I could see him on the dirt road section into Rucky Chucky river crossing as I arrived. I quickly topped off with ice and water and ran down the stone steps to the river. After the attentive volunteer buckled my life vest, I plunged in, cooling myself as I moved across, laying in the water. After a quick head dunk, I hiked up the dirt road to Green Gate to meet crew. Hiking and running, trying to pull away from Giblin.
Crossing the American River at mile 78. Photo by Altra Footwear.
Francois D’haene was hiking down to the river about halfway up. He informed me Sage was less than a minute in front of me. He called back over his shoulder “Allez! Allez! You maybe move up 2 more positions!” As I ran the remainder up to Green Gate, Sage was still there but quickly took off with his pacer. I swapped out bottles with Erik, got my calorie resupply of Grape Roctane and a few GUs, and chugged some extra water before taking off. I felt like I was moving well through the rolling single track on my way to Auburn Lakes aid. Within a mile or so, I reeled in Sage and his pacer on a climb. I told him to hang in there, he looked pretty worked. I heard he was throwing up. Bummer.
Almost to Auburn Lakes aid I caught sight of Altra teammate Thomas Lorblanchet and his pacer. At this point, my body didn’t want anymore caffeine and I only had caffeinated Roctane in my pockets. Luckily, I had an emergency only drop bag at Auburn Lakes and quickly grabbed a few Grape Roctane powder packets and left ahead of Thomas.
I pushed on and off to Brown’s Bar to open up a gap on Thomas. As you approach Brown’s Bar aid station, you know you’re close because they are blasting music and you hear it way before you see it. I was looking forward to Brown’s Bar because a bunch of running friends from Ashland, Oregon volunteer there. As I ran up, I was greeted by Siskuyou Outback 50/50 Co-RD Rob Cain. I told him I just passed Lorblanchet and needed to get moving. He informed me that Walmsley got off course and that I might be in 3rd. I grabbed my bottles and hightailed it out of there before Thomas showed up. I pushed a solid pace to Highway 49. I wanted to finish the last 10K without having to race and wanted to make sure I had secured 3rd before No Hands Bridge.
I grabbed my lights from Erik at Highway 49 crossing and took off running and hiking the climb out of the aid station. I was listening for the cow bells to alert the arrival of another runner behind me, but I never heard anything. That meant I’d gapped him pretty well since the previous aid station at Brown’s Bar.
I kept pushing to No Hands Bridge and as I arrived No Hands, I started to relax and enjoy the slow climb up to Robie Point. About 1/3 of the way up I flipped on my headlamp. When I hit the street at Robie Point, I ran through the throng of people — a full street party raging, complete with lights in the trees and drinking and revelry. As I gave high five’s, a few guys start running with me, beers in hand. Soon, Dave Carder jumped out of the crowd and ran up the street in his flip flops and a full growler in hand. He told me “Good job!” I was stoked to see him. We exchanged a few words and he peeled off.
As I left the crowd, I met up with my crewman Erik who’d jogged out to run it in with me. I gave him a well-deserved pat on the back and a heartfelt “thanks, couldn’t have done it without ya, bro!” We enjoyed the run through town and soon could see the lights of the track.
Pumped about a podium finish. Photo by Miriam Simon Carter.
As I entered the stadium, my teenage son, Benjamin, was waiting for me and jumped in beside me to run it in. I slowed down, savoring it. I slapped as many kids and spectator hands as possible as I rounded the corner. As I hit the final straight, my other two kids jumped out of the crowd to run in with me too. Wow. 14 years ago, I rounded the track for my first 100 mile finish with my first child on the way. The start of a new family. And now, I had 3 kids and 24 100-milers under my belt. Life sure does twist and turn. 3rd place. M3 was just icing on the cake.
I was greeted by RD Craig Thornley as I stepped across the finish. He’s been a mentor and someone I learned from when I first got into the sport 16 years ago. I’m so psyched to have the opportunity to race here again. I can’t wait for next year. Giddyup.
Now, time to get my head on straight for Hardrock 100.
Huge thanks to my wife, Jennifer, and my 3 kiddos who never quit believing in me — even at my age. Big props to crew master Erik Schulte for getting me in and out quick in key spots. Thanks to my sponsors Patagonia, Altra Footwear, Ultraspire, Gu, Rudy Project, Black Diamond, and Barlean’s. Thanks to Dave Carder and Michelle Crews for opening up their home over Memorial Day so I could train on the course and for the awesome sausage and eggs after midnight when I was done and looking for food. You guys rock. Big shout out to my body work guys, Mark DeJohn for his stellar ART work and Austin Baillie for working the kinks out with massage. Last but not least, thanks to the Big Man Upstairs for keeping my path safe and straight. Giddyup.
Patagonia Duck Bill Cap
Patagonia Capilene Team Sleeveless Shirt
Patagonia Strider Pro 5” Shorts
Altra Lone Peak 2.5 Shoes (with Altra Gaitors)
Injinji Wool Toe Socks
Ultraspire Isomeric Race Handhelds
Rudy Project Zyon Glasses
Nutrition: Gu Roctane and gels (especially the new Cucumber Mint), Vespa Concentrates and Organic Banana Chips and Plantain Chips.
Check out the interview with Jesse Haynes and I on The Ginger Runner on our Owyhee Canyonlands running epic. We talk about adventure safety, Optimized Fat Metabolism (OFM), and how we came up short trying to run a remote and wild off-trail swath of SE Oregon’s high desert.
Jesse Haynes and I are running 170 miles in 4 days through the Owyhee Canyonlands. It’s the last 170 miles of the new Oregon Desert Trail (ODT) in southeastern Oregon and the largest roadless area in the Lower 48 — one of the few places remaining that you can grab front row seats to an unobstructed view of the Milky Way due to the lack of light pollution.
We’re gearing up and will be launching off into the Canyonlands near Anderson Crossing on May 3rd and planning to be at Owyhee State Park on May 6th. Keep track of our progress on my Owyhee Canyonlands MapShare Page starting on Tuesday, May 3rd. We’re planning to end in Lake Owyhee State Park Friday afternoon on May 6th. Giddyup!
Check out the chat I had with Doctor Marc Wagner at BioFlourish.com for more info into my recent shift to LCHF. Click here for the interview.
A little background and talk about my switch to Primal Blueprint lifestyle, my fight with candida, as well as a dive into some of the training philosophy I embrace. For the show, click here.
I entered Paradise Aid Station at mile 27 in 4th place and left in the lead. I’d been running with Gary Robbins and Avery Collins since the start, and our lead pack had slowly eroded to the three of us. I left Paradise with Avery and Gary in tow and settled into a combo of running and hiking. As we ascended past the crowded Manoa Falls and a couple of switchbacks, I looked back and didn’t see them. That was the moment it began to dawn on me that my “experiment of one” and my recent diet shift of utilizing OFM (Optimized Fat Metabolism) principles was working. I felt good and relaxed. I told myself to not push yet, it was still early. I kept running smoothly and enjoying the humid jungle ride.
Leaving Nu’uanu, mile 53 with my lights. Photo by Jiro Ishiduka.
Rewind to 7 weeks prior…
I was a mess. I’d been fighting a candida/yeast issue in my GI tract since June and a staph infection I’d picked up in South America. I’d had to go on antibiotics for the staph, but this caused the yeast to get worse. I was dealing with my 4th major candida flare-up. When it would flare, I’d usually miss a night of sleep itching out of my mind, I was sick and tired of dealing with this issue.
In a desperate state, I started researching anti-candida diets online and came across a Paleo forum talking about yeast and candida and that the Paleo lifestyle could help heal it. After all, yeast feeds on sugar and it made sense to cut out any yeast-feeding foods, especially starchy, sugary carbs. Plus, it helped that my wife had wanted to go Paleo for several years. She’d been dealing with some insulin resistance/hypoglycemia symptoms since her 20s. She already had two Paleo cook books. So, we embarked on cutting out grains, legumes, sugar, wine, beer and even coffee for good measure (I did bring back red wine in moderation after 4 weeks). It was 7 weeks from race day when I got full-on crazy strict — even through the holidays. I had no choice. I just couldn’t deal with another yeast flare-up.
The first week was horrible. I was lethargic, moody, and my workouts sucked. My kids were not hip to Dad’s new grouchy shortcomings. My body was deep in carb detox, starved of my normal intake of sugar, caffeine, and rice and potatoes. My body needed time to adapt to new fat-optimized pathways. I took my carb intake down to 15% of my daily intake, mostly from fresh veggies, about 20% protein from good natural meat sources, while upping my fat intake to 65%. I was combing the web for food ideas, trying to find new habits. I started reading Vespa’s OFM strategy. I started researching fat adaptation and listened to hours of podcasts on LCHF (Low Carb, High Fat, Moderate Protein) diet, the science, the theories. This led me to email my friend and Altra teammate, Zach Bitter for support and tips. I knew he’d been strict LCHF diet for several years and I was in need of advice.
I started to come out of the carb-haze on day 8 and by 2 weeks in, I was feeling better. I cycled myself into ketosis. The yeast amazingly cleared up within that first week and I was starting to have consistent energy throughout the day. No lows, no crashes. I started to experiment with some carb-fasted runs with good success. I found I was able to run a 17-mile run after an 18-hour carb fast on only water and one s-cap, with the last 12 at 50K race pace without any issues. I wasn’t even that hungry after the run. Not my normal.
I started to go on my long 4-5 hour runs with only 50 calories per hour of Roctane drink with no bonks. I lost 7 pounds in the first 10 days and then stabilized at my high school weight of 135 pounds. My energy levels were solid. Recovery seemed to be faster too. Biggest bonus — zero yeast symptoms. I was definitely encouraged.
Fast forward to the race…
As I came back to Paradise at mile 47 still in the lead, I was stoked. I felt good, I had no bonks, despite going on half the calories of my normal 100-mile nutrition plan. As I left, I yelled over my shoulder at my crew, Jesse Haynes, “It’s working! It’s working!” I was just as surprised. I had fretted quite a bit before the race, back up gels in all my drop bags, how much to take per hour? How would my body react? Sure it seemed to work in a 4-5 hour run, but what about at 12 hours? 16? My normal regimen was out the window, the regimen that had been working for years in 100s with good success.
As I pushed up the hill to see where 2nd place was at nearly halfway though the course, I was stoked to see Gary 18 minutes back and Yassine not too far behind him in 3rd. I’d increased my lead more since the last checkpoint. I continued to grind away on the three mile climb back up to Paoua Flats and then up to Bien’s Bench (Rod Bein’s father’s memorial bench) and descending the steep, technical and slippery Nu’uanu Trail. I was pushing on the down and meeting other runners coming up when I stepped to the edge to avoid a woman runner and slipped off the trail on the slippery rocks. I tumbled off the trail and just happened to quickly grab a bowling ball sized rock before I did a face-check. I clung onto the rock to avoid slipping down the 70 degree slope below the trail. The woman standing over me with wide-eyes asked if I was okay. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I was scrapped up but fine, luckily. I pulled myself back up onto the trail and took off again.
Lap 3. Photo by Allen Lucas.
At Nu’uanu on the 3rd lap, I grabbed my lights from Jesse and was out to see if I was getting a further gap. To my surprise, Yassine had pulled into 2nd on the descent and was looking good — 24 minutes back. I kept grinding up, running as much as possible on the steep ascent and quickly met Gary too. I pushed the pace down to the Nature Center (Start/Finish), hopping rocks and roots and dancing my way to the bottom. Jesse was ready and I grabbed refills of Roctane and downed another Vespa and took off up the rooted Hogs Back climb. I came through the top short road section where Mike Arnstein (last year’s winner) had a fresh coconut aid station. Every lap, I chugged straight from a fresh coconut on my way through. What a treat. Thanks Mike. One of the things I truly love about the ultrarunning community, the willingness and want to give back. Solid.
I flipped on my lights on the descent on lap 4 into Paradise and continued to increase the lead on each out and back section over Gary (now in 2nd) and Yassine in 3rd. When I left mile 80 for my final lap, I had about a 50 minute lead. I was very relaxed at that point. I felt good, I still had juice in the tank if I needed to make another move and I would see my competition two more times on the final lap on the out and backs. I decided to cruise the last 20 and enjoy the aid stations and just keep from getting hurt on this gnarly course.
This is when I started to think about post-race food. I wanted some protein and asked the aid station if they had bacon. Nope, just ham. I ditched the bread, ate a small piece of ham and cheese. They informed me that Paradise had bacon. 7 miles away.I stopped and chatted with Mike and thanked him for the coconuts. We chatted for a minute or two and I left with one of my water bottles topped off with raw, fresh coconut water poured straight out of a freshly hacked coconut. Sweet nectar.
I came into Paradise on a bacon hunt. Thanks to Jen McVeay, a long time staple at HURT, I mowed down 3 pieces. However, I got the 3rd piece only with the stipulation that if I won, I had to credit the bacon (which I happily did at the awards ceremony…thanks again Jen…that bacon was the bomb).
At Nu’uanu I had a half a hamburger patty. I hike more on the climbs and was keeping an eye on Gary, still 45-50 minutes back with 7 miles to go. My headlamp started to dim on the final, technical descent to the finish, which had me going slow to pick my way through the rocky jumble, but thankfully was enough to make it to the finish. I crossed the line in 21 hours, 22 minutes for my 14th 100-mile win and my 23rd hundred mile finish. So thankful and excited to grab another win and feel better than I have in a while, health-wise. Paleo and OFM are working well for me and I feel strong and excited for the 2016 season! Especially with both Western States 100 and Hardrock 100 on the schedule — a mere three weeks apart.
The LCHF diet has been amazing. I just can’t say enough. I was able to go on half the calories I normally would intake in a 100-miler (GU Roctane, Vespa, unsweetened banana chips, and few orange wedges mainly). It’s a different, less traveled road, but worth it for the health benefits. My post-race recovery was like nothing I’ve experienced before. Truly unbelievable.
Also a big shout out to the HURT 100 volunteers and all the crew that make that race what it is. It’s a special one. And, all the folks who ran. Solid to see everyone laying it down out there and fighting that gnarly course. Thanks Gary, Yassine and Avery for pushing me to a solid finish. Giddyup!
Know more about the nutritional angle…
To understand how we’re wired and why grains and legumes aren’t very good for us metabolically, I highly recommend: Mark Sisson’s Primal Blueprint (probably most aligned with his stuff personally — great intro and info on his website), Robb Wolf’s The Paleo Solution (great mix of why and how of Paleo), and the first book I read on the subject (yeah, I like to get my geek cap on), Volek and Phinney’s, The Art and Science of Low Carb Living (deeper science angle). All worthy reads.
A Big Thanks…
Special thanks to my wife and kids and their tireless patience and putting up with all the training. Big shout out to Zach Bitter and Peter Defty at Vespa for all the consulting on OFM to help me get it dialed in before the race. Stoked to be on an even more dialed nutritional path than I was before.
Huge thanks to my stellar sponsors and all their support, Patagonia and the killer threads; Altra who are constantly improving and fine-tuning the footwear line; Magda at GU for the special Bronco Billy Brew Roctane; Bryce and Tina at Ultraspire for the handheld bottles; Rocho at Black Diamond for the lights; Rudy Project for the Rx glasses; Barlean’s for the fat supplements and all the organic coconut oil I use daily. And my local peeps, FootZone, my running community and Recharge for the great scene they’ve created with recovery, treadmills, workout facility — awesome addition to my training routine. Lastly, big ups to the Big Man upstairs for keeping my path straight and safe. Giddyup y’all.