Nike's Geoff Hollister Continues to Inspire

Steve Prefontaine and Geoff Hollister worked together
to promote Nike shoes in the company's infancy.

If quotes can sometimes inspire, the people behind those quotes most definitely do.

One of Nike’s original employees, Geoff Hollister, was regarded not only for testing early prototype running shoes and selling the brand’s early kicks, but also for his advocacy for running as a worthwhile endeavor before the running boom.

Hollister died in 2012 after a long battle with cancer. Around that time Nike dedicated a trail on the Nike campus to Hollister’s memory. A sign along the trail caught my eye recently and serves as a solid reminder of how our lives (and our running endeavors) inextricably involve others.

“It’s not about how long you live but how you contribute. It’s about doing your best and doing the right thing. It’s about recovering from your mistakes and not giving up. It’s about the baton pass to the new generation. It’s about the realization that you can not go it alone. It takes a team," Hollister said.

Hollister had quite a team. His early sales work was alongside running legend Steve Prefontaine, who helped build the grassroots support for Nike shoes among elite runners in Europe and America while Hollister himself focused on the Pacific Northwest. He joined Phil Knight in 1967, to help him sell Tiger shoes for Blue Ribbon Sports, the precursor to Nike. And he, along with Knight and Bill Bowerman, formed Athletics West, an American running team aimed at helping post-collegiate and elite athletes continue to perform at a high level.

Alberto Salazar winning his third New York City
Marathon in 1982. LANE STEWART/SI/GETTY

The many runners who donned the Athletics West singlet were my inspiration through the 1980’s – Alberto Salazar, Henry Marsh, Mary Decker-Slaney, and Joan Benoit-Samuleson, just to name a few. My team, my motivation, were the runners who were on the cutting edge of performance. And while most of my running was a solitary effort, the motivation, training, comaraderie, only came from the group -- the collective runners of the time.

I often pictured myself wearing the white and red singlet like the one Salazar was wearing when he crossed the finish line at the New York City Marathon -- three times a champion. It represented excellence in running to me. And the pictures of track athletes and marathoners in their Athletics West garb fueled many hours of training for me.

These days, I find similar motivation. The trail runners who are breaking new ground, through FKT attempts, or through time-smashing performances over long distances all inspire. The teams of athletes from Salomon who train around the world; the teams of runners in high altitude locales of Boulder or Flagstaff, who despite differing sponsors and coaches, share the spirit of their mutual effort daily.

But running can be a fickle mistress sometimes. All the motivation, group runs, breakthrough training techniques, and big-company cash flow can all be torn asunder without the individual having the wherewithal to get 'er done. 

As I researched his lifetime of contributions, what stood out to me about Geoff Hollister is that he understood the importance of both the group and the individual. He gave first and foremost to the running community, regular people who wanted run. At the same time, he also developed himself into a fine collegiate steeplechaser. As much as he understood the importance of giving back, he understood the deep desire of most runners -- to develop ourselves into the best we can be. Hollister may have been mindful of this when he said:

"May you have air in your lungs, life in your legs, have the wind at your back and wings on your feet."

Amen, brother.

Imitating the Bearded Runner

Gordy Ainsleigh

Will a beard make me a better ultra runner? Legendary mountain ultra runners with beards abound -- Gordy Ainsleigh, Rob Krar, Timothy Olsen, Anton Krupicka, Hal Koerner, Jeff Browning, Geoff Roes, Mike Wardian, Karl Meltzer, Jason Schlarb, Nick Clark, Zach Bitter, Luke Nelson, Brian Tinder, Sean Meissner, Jacob Puzey, Rickey Gates, Ty Draney, Ultrapedestrian Ras and many others give facial hair more than a casual commitment.

Why do athletes competing in Mountain Ultra Trail (MUT) races have beards? Because of Gordy Ainsleigh? Or Grizzly Adams?

Grizzly Adams

Or Forrest Gump perhaps?

Both Grizzly Adams and our fictionalized across-America-racer Forrest Gump are characters who have become part of our collective memory with full faces of hair. And as we continue to add to the list of our human experience in the ultra community, beards will be a part of that story.

But let's face it, (haha, face it) growing a beard, some epic Ian Torrence chops, or a Snidely Whiplash mustache like Rickey Gates, will not transform us magically into legendary mountain runners.

Running like an animal will. Training with a single-minded focus will. And drawing from the talents and experiences of our ultra community will.

What I find inspiring about mountain ultra runners, with or without beards, is their ability to dream big, fully dedicate themselves and their lives, and to work hard in the face of challenges. If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, there's a reason we're seeing so many beards. But I've found a few more things to emulate besides facial hair. Some of the best (bearded) runners of the land have a novel and noteworthy approach to life, training, and meeting/exceeding the challenges ahead.

Forrest Gump

The bearded Rob Krar, left, and Timothy Olsen, right, at Western States in 2013.

Beards aside, I recently revisited an iRunFar Post 2014 WS 100 iRunFar Interview with our most celebrated beard in ultrarunning -- that of Rob Krar. After his win at the 2014 Western States 100, he told iRunFar a couple of noteworthy things about Recognizing the Complications of Ultra Training; Goal Setting; In-Race Focus; and Visualization.

"Training for ultras, it's a whole world of complications, and time commitments, and sacrifices," Krar said about his training leading up to being the Western States champion. And Krar explained that at the time he was still adjusting to meeting those challenges. Noteworthy 1: Recognize the Complications.

In Travis Macy's new book, the Ultra Mindset, we learn that these challenges and setbacks are all good mental training. Clearly, our family, life, work, and training regimen combined can create some stresses that Macy explains should be our opportunity to further develop our mental fortitude for our endurance endeavors.

It was at the 2013 Western States 100 that Rob Krar set the goal to win in 2014.

For Krar, another key moment
was while sitting in a chair next to Western States Champion Timothy Olsen in 2013. It was here that he quietly decided to go for the win in 2014. "I've never set such a lofty and long-range goal for myself," Krar told iRunFar. "And to see it all come to fruition and validate the hard work and the sacrifices -- incredibly satisfying," Krar said of his win. Noteworthy 2: Set Challenging Goals.

Noteworthy 3: Focus. We hear athletes of all stripes say how much mental focus it takes to be a champion. When Krar was asked about other high points along the trail during his 100-mile win at Western States, he couldn't point to highlights along 100 miles and 15 hours of trail running -- and for good reason. "I was incredibly focused the entire race," he said. And he wouldn't let the distractions in until he was almost home, when in the last mile, "I let the emotions start to flow."

Finally, this, Noteworthy 4: Visualize Often. "I don't think there is a day that's gone by the past year where I didn't imagine setting foot on that track," said Krar of his mindset in preparing for Western. So, visualize early and visualize often. Don't shave it for later.

(Not So) Hard Core

Just 13 months ago I jumped into the Pullman Winter Ultra with options for 1, 2, 3, or 4 loops of a 12.5 kilometer road course. I knew my longest run was only 10 miles, but figured I could gut out at least three loops, maybe four.  Racing through 37.5 kilometers on a rainy, windy January day in lovely Pullman, Washington was tough, but not unbearable. I opted not to complete the last loop, pack it in, and get some food with Milissa who had patiently waited for me to complete my run and be my roadside aid station over the 3 hours and 40 minutes I was running.
Recovering from the race brought about a host of new pains and soreness in my hips than I had ever experienced before -- a welcoming party for training and racing in my 40's. Clearly, this was not something I'd felt so dramatically before, even after marathons, ultras, road races, trail races, or any other feats of abandon.
After going to a physical therapist to treat my hip pain, I struck up a conversation with a physical therapist/runner during one of my sessions. "Why now?" I asked of all my persistent hip pain.
"Well, you're not a kid anymore and you're not the athlete you once were."
Ouch.
"I'm guessing you do a lot of sitting at your job," he continued. "And driving places."
"Uh-huh."
"And you probably don't do as many sports as you used to."
Nope.
"And your transversus abdominus isn't keeping up with your need to stabilize your core when you take a stride while running."
"My what?"
"Your core sucks."
"Oh." And here I thought I was doing OK for 44, but evidently not.
What I had done is called complacency, resting on the idea that I'd always be capable of coordinated sport-like endeavors because I am just naturally an athletic type. Nope.
We went about testing my core, trying to engage my transversus abdominis without contracting my traditional abs. My physical therapist placed two fingers in between my obliques and my abdominals pushing in until he could feel my transversus abdominis -- "Now just contract your core -- not your abs." The verdict wasn't good. I could barely engage it on command.
After weeks of doing "engagement exercises" with my core, my rating, according to the physical therapist was, "Meh," on a scale of "Meh to 10."
"You've got some work to do." And so it began. Before starting my series of back kicks, leg raises, planks, bridges, and the like for my hips, I would seek to engage my deep core first.
And even as I run trails and attack uphills, technical terrain, or prepare for a downhill, I actively engage my transversus abdominis to the extent possible while running.
A year later, I've gradually gained momentum on my core exercises -- moving steadily from basic planks to more active planks, to weighted exercises, to more advanced core exercises with a swiss ball.
Luckily, there are tons of exercises available to keep our core -- hips, lower back, central back, and glutes -- prepared for running. And nothing is more challenging to our support muscles than running on technical mountain terrain. So, I've tried to take a little bit of everything into my regimen.
My Pullman wake up call has served me well. When I don't have time to go to the gym, I do planks or exercises in my office at work. When I do have time, I complete my running workout and finish off at the gym with some advanced planks, bodyweight exercises, or weighted exercises focusing on all four planes -- back, belly, and left/right obliques.
I also work my trouble spots. I still have some trouble with my hip and fight that deficiency by focusing on my single-leg romanian deadlifts -- a few more on my weak side or by doing some weighted kick-backs using a machine at the gym. If you feel like you need some guidance on strengthening your core, hips, glutes, or back muscles. I've found great resources on Competitor.com's website: Strength Training for Runners or on the McMillan Running site McMillan Running Core Routine.
And I've totally recovered from not being as "Hard Core" as I thought.

Burning Fat (PHAT) for the Long Run

As I melt two tablespoons of coconut oil and one tablespoon of butter in my coffee and add a dose of heavy cream I'm thinking how much my diet has changed over the last two months since the Mountain Lakes 100.

This high-fat coffee concoction -- called "bulletproof" coffee by some -- have ingredients once considered sacrilege among us calorie and fat conscious runners. "Oh my gosh," people say to me now, "Your cholesterol is going to be off the charts." Maybe. We'll see.

As someone who spent most of my life watching my cholesterol levels because of a hereditary predisposition to high cholesterol, that's a valid concern. When I was 19, even though I was running 70 miles a week, lifting weights, and eating well, my total cholesterol was above 250. I started taking Questran, then lipitor, then some other statin drugs, then finally Crestor and while removing every speck of so-called bad fats from my diet, I didn't see my cholesterol numbers change very significantly at all. After half a lifetime taking different medications for hyperlipidemia, you'd think my new fat diet would be suicide. (An artery may clog up before I finish this blog post)

Now I tell people about the mornings when I cook my eggs up in a lake (2TBS) of real butter or eat 4-6 strips of bacon along with those buttery eggs for breakfast. What was never part of my diet routine just three months ago, is beginning to be my fuel for life and soon, for some heavier workouts.

So far, I've been easily willing to restrict my carbs down to a very low level -- less than 50g per day most days. The process of becoming fat-adapted requires it. You have to keep your fat intake up and your carbohydrate intake down. I've also eliminated sugar from most starches like pasta, rice, bread, and the like from my diet as well. Because my calories have stayed the same, my weight has stayed roughly the same as well.

Replacing those refined and processed foods with fat has taken some adjustment, but replacing some high-carb selections with high-fat selections isn't much of a sacrifice. Many of the things I can eat now -- like bacon or salami -- were not on my list of things to eat for most of my life.

I'm 45 now and having watched my cholesterol closely for 26 years hasn't been much fun. So, in some respects this Fat Adapted Diet has been a PHAT Adapted Diet -- Pretty Hot And Tempting (PHAT) foods to eat! I eat full-fat cheeses, fattier cuts of steak, and veggies with sour cream, hummus, or guacamole dip for lunch, and bacon -- gotta love bacon.

And at dinner, one person's fat scraps are this guy's strategic fat calories. And if I feel like having a bite of a baked potato, I slather on some butter and put a spoonful of sour cream on it -- down it goes -- covering my carbs in fat. I won't take a scoop of rice or a plate of pasta, but I'll take the skin from a piece of chicken of from a family member's plate? "You're not eating that? That's the best part." It's been a joy to free myself from cutting off every ounce of fat on the edge of a steak. And you know what? Fat tastes good!

I began this little diet adventure just after finishing Mountain Lakes 100. I figured it was my off-season and it's a good time to try out a different way of fueling. I wanted to give myself time to adapt to burning fat as fuel instead of carbohydrates and really give the Optimized Fat Metabolism (OFM) a chance.

I began by reading everything I could find about high fat, low carbohydrate diets -- Zach Bitter's blog, the VESPA website, and two books by Jeff S. Volek and Stephen D. Phinney. Volek and Phinney's books, "The Art and Science of Low Carbohydrate Living," and "The Art and Science of Low Carbohydrate Performance."

Further into the diet, I continue to take cues from Zach Bitter's blog about OFM and further about how he times his carbohydrates with his workouts/racing. Also, the VESPA site and Peter Defty, the VESPA founder, have offered help for people looking to use the principles of OFM.

So, I've grown a little more heavy-handed with my use of olive oil over my veggies, or with some cheese chunks, and continue to eat lots of salads with green veggies, like kale, broccoli, but topped with some extra doses of homemade dressing.

When I need a snack, I rely mainly on nuts, cheese, or a tea with some coconut oil. But the great part is that I haven't been hungry and my energy levels have been more consistent. The fats are more satiating than my past diet habits (which were generally whole foods/whole grains/heavy veggies/lighter meats/less oils).

On the few running workouts I've done during my off-season, I've noticed that I don't get hungry. I don't start the workouts with a Clif Bar or other snack and I don't complete a workout feeling those hunger pains. And while I've been in the weight room more than any other time this year and haven't noticed any lack of energy during or after gym workouts. The other thing I've noticed is a more stable water balance, easier time sleeping through the night, and no 2-3 p.m. energy crisis where I need to get a coffee or have a snack.

But I'm not done experimenting yet. It's only been two months and my running workouts are just starting to ramp up again. I've been looking forward to getting in some longer runs where I can see how far my body can go on fewer carbs.

At the very least I can clue my body in to what it's like to burn fat for an extended period of time so it's not so foreign when I'm forced to make that change on the run during next year's mountain ultra events.

Next, I'll be incorporating more running while maintaining low carbohydrates and soon I'll get a cholesterol work-up to see how my blood is doing. I hope this is helpful if you're considering a high-fat, low-carbohydrate diet, or just want to hear about my trial and error. Things are looking PHAT.

Bus Stop Breakdown -- How A Bad Commute Fueled My Return to Running

It happened at a bus stop outside of the Franconia/Springfield Metro station. It was during a time in my life when I was focused on my career, working in the United States Senate in Washington DC. Each day found me full-suited, riding a Metro to and from my humble townhouse near Springfield, Virginia with thousands of my closest DC friends. Each day also found me eating out at restaurants, stressing about deadlines, drinking, and doing very little good for my health.

Earlier that day my deputy press secretary had taken a picture of me for a television news station -- I was interviewing over the phone that night and they needed to show their audience who I was. 

Giving a mock speech in the Senate TV gallery

When she showed me the picture my heart sank. I was fat. That was the first time in my life I noticed my slide into a slothdom. I was out of shape and I had a chubby face -- not the athlete I thought I once was.

It was a long day at the office and after a sardine-can metro ride, I just wanted to get home. But here I was waiting rather impatiently at a bus stop for the bus to take me 3.4 miles down the road. Twenty minutes passed -- no bus.

"Errrgh! I am not going to wait another 20 minutes for nothing! I could have run home by now!" Or could I?

Fueled by my anger at the bus, I grabbed my briefcase and took off running over the metro bridge and down the backroads to my neighborhood. It took mere seconds to be drenched in sweat. It's humid in DC and I was still wearing my suit. And let's face it, I was in terrible shape. My run turned into a jog and walk, but I was committed to getting home on foot -- before that stupid bus.

As I rounded the corner to my neighborhood, I could hear it, the zooming loud rush of air and tires against pavement throttling up the road behind me and squeaking to a stop at my corner. Stupid bus. Never again. "I'm never riding that bus again," I promised myself.

At least I wouldn't ride it in the evening. Each day thereafter I brought my running clothes with me to run the 2.3 miles of backroads home after work. Some days I got there before the bus, sometimes after, but slowly I brought myself back into running shape. And how victorious it was to beat that beastly bus back home from the metro station.

Within months I was running 5 and 10-mile trail races at Prince William Forest Park in Triangle, Virginia and even getting in some miles with the Virginia Happy Trail Running Club. I am thankful now for that time in my life. It reminds me to stay on a healthy path and be mindful of how I'm living my life. I don't get much chance to race buses down the street anymore, but I'm glad for that too. I find my victories in the mountains and along the trails instead.

Mountain Lakes 100 -- A Gap Analysis

At work they call it a "gap analysis." When you compare your organization's actual performance with your potential or desired performance. The gap gives you an idea where you can improve and what resources you need to make that improvement.
I waited a full 15 years to run my first 100 mile ultra marathon and chose to jump into Mountain Lakes 100 with only three 50k races under my belt in 2014. And while I haven't performed a gap analysis, I did learn some things that will help me improve.

Feeling great in the early miles at Mountain Lakes 100

Looking back at my race, what I learned is similar to what I've learned throughout my 38 year running history. And there are some gaps.
The first thing I learned: Don't go out too fast. I tend to fall prey to this idea that I'm as fast and capable of a runner as I was when I was 30. I am not, but I'm working to get there each day. My first 50 miles were covered in 11:15 and I didn't feel particularly pressed. But my body had other ideas and reduced me to a walk/run, then a walk -- let's call it a 40 mile warm-down. The second 50 miles took me 17:15. There's a lot more to be learned here than "don't go out too fast." I don't think I was going too much faster than I'm capable of, but I was going too fast for the technical terrain we experienced during the first 20-26 miles. And every step beyond 60 miles was longer than I'd ever run. Also, I believe I'd benefit from some more lengthy and challenging back-to-back runs to be stronger over the last 40 miles of the race.

At the finish line with family.

Espresso gel anyone? It never occurred to me that staying awake while running would be difficult. I've run numerous events at 50 miles or less and some longer relay races without any trouble. I guess I figured since I'd be running, fueling, and focusing on the task at hand, I'd be fine to run through the night. Nope. Not fine. About three miles before I reached the Clackamas Ranger Station for the second time, 71 miles, I was weaving back and forth in the trail -- falling asleep. A runner behind me was kind enough to warn volunteers that the next guy "is kind of out of it." My good friend Stan Holman heard the news and sprung into action to get me coffee, food and helped me get my wits about me. Soon after leaving the aid station, I was met by a runner holding two double-shot espresso gels and he said, "Are you Cameron? Stan says you should eat these now." So, I did. The gels were good for about an hour of awake time each, before I began to fall asleep again on the climb back toward Pinheads at mile 87. At some point on the climb I decided I just had to sleep or risk running down a ravine. So I laid down on the trail with my head on a nice comfy rock for about 7 or 8 minutes. It was an instant slumber. And it was good enough to keep me fairly awake until Pinheads when the sun started to peak over the mountains.
over the last 13 miles, I was in good spirits. I knew I would finish and Stan was able to meet me with 4 miles to go. I felt some pretty serious knee pain when I tried to step over logs and branches, but I didn't think much of it. It was great to share those miles with Stan and to be reunited with family at the finish. Shortly after finishing my knee decided to completely seize up with inflammation, but other than that, I was in good shape -- having met my initial goal to complete the distance.
The race was extremely well organized, picturesque, and the aid station volunteers were the best I've seen. GoBeyondRacing does an amazing job with race organization. I look forward to participating in their races again next year. In the meantime, I've got some work to do to fill in the gaps in my training and racing, so I can continue to reach my desired level of performance.

My Ultrarunning Primer -- The 2000 Jack Frost 5-Hour

Back in 2000, in the middle of the Jack Frost 5-hour run in West Linn, Oregon, I was churning out some wet, muddy 1.62-mile laps with the veritable Glenn Tachiyama. I had decided to transition my marathon running to ultramarathons -- and this race would be my little breakout into the world of trail ultras.

A soaking wet trail at the 2000 Jack Frost 5-hour run.

After years of training to break 2:40 in the marathon, I ended up with numerous 2:45-range marathon finishes, but the next phase of my life as a runner I knew would be on the trails, not roads. But for now I was running through a Pacific Northwest drizzle with Glenn, trying to stay up with the likes of Tom Moritz, Steve Smucker, and Dave Terry. Glenn and I pushed each other along, as the trails of Mary S. Young State Park grew progressively more slick.
I took a brief pause before the start of my last lap to attempt to clear up confusion about the number of laps I had completed so far. I was sure I had completed 21 already and had time to get in one more. Frustration fueled my last loop and I blasted through another quick loop to complete 35.75 miles in 4:59:02 -- even though the official results show 34.18.
http://www.coolrunning.com/results
/00/or/Feb12_JackFr_set1.html
I was pleased with my first ultramarathon results nonetheless. I'm happy I could share those miles with Glenn, who now devotes his time to capturing images of so many runners' ultra marathon efforts around the Northwest. That early race planted a seed in me that has yet to fully develop, but serves as my starting point into this now-growing world of ultrarunning.