Day 66: My Word, This Dude Is Awesome

This former slobbering drunk is like God -- or something.
Dean Karnazes, you humble me.

"Holy crap" is all I can say after reading this article in Wired about a guy who used to spend his evenings downing tequila shots and getting hit on by strange women. Until he ran 30 miles after one drunken night of debauchery. Today, Dean Karnazes is known as Ultraman, and his running feats are nothing short of stunning.

In no particular order, he has (and this is all covered in the article, which is a fascinating read): run 350 miles without sleeping (it took him three days); completed the Badwater Marathon, a 135-mile trek through Death Valley and the mountains in the middle of the summer; run the first and only marathon to the South Pole (he came in second); completed 50 marathons in all 50 states on 50 consecutive days; and finished a 199-mile relay by himself, coming in eighth out of eight other teams of 12 -- dude wasn't even last.

Karnazes is also kind enough to offer some of his tips to become, well, more like him. You must read the article for elaboration on all of these tips and how he accomplishes them, but I've taken the liberty to apply his advice to how I'm currently training for Warrior Dash.

1. Be audacious (find the right challenge).In my case, I think Warrior Dash is the ideal event. It presents enough of a physical challenge that I'm going to have to work my ass off to complete it, but I don't believe it's out of the realm of possibility for me. Plus, with the beer, music, and Viking helmet, it adds just the right hint of creativity that Karnazes suggests you seek out.

2. Go laceless.
I didn't know this was a possibility, because I'm not up on these kinds of fashionable things. According to the article, North Face makes a pretty cool M Endurus XCR Boa shoe that fits the bill.

3. Flirt with disaster.
Not sure I'm quite ready to go that route yet. Karnazes explains his affinity for pain with quotes such as "Somewhere along the line we've confused comfort for happiness" and "There's magic in misery." I have two young children, so as much as I'm dying to push myself until I'm vomiting and experiencing hallucinations on the side of the road in some God-forsaken desert, I think for now I'll continue to run as responsibly as I can. Though Karnazes has two kids, too, so go figure.

4. Eat junk -- lots of it.
Looks like I get to amend my no-eating-crap-after-9pm-rule -- hurray!

5. Cut back on sleep.
Check. With two young kids (see post #3), I've learned that sleep is for the weak. Nope, not jealous one bit, you narcoleptic lightweights. Not. one. little. bit.

6. Show your body who's boss.
My body is so far having none of this, but I'm hoping my warrior-steeled mind will eventually prevail.

7. Get a cool watch.
Like with GPS and a phone and shit. So they can track me down if I collapse in the middle of nowhere.

8. Learn to love Krazy Glue.
For the blisters that are going to eventually crop up. I'm game.

9. Get used to it.
My husband went out for a 2-mile run last night, even though his legs were extremely sore from his run the night before. He picked a course with a ton of hills and then came home to tell me he was dying. When I asked him why in the world he picked the hardest run he could have when he already felt so crappy, he said, "Because you have to get your body used to this feeling." Or something like that, I'm paraphrasing his moaning delirium. I reflected on his mantra, and then forced myself to sprint the last four minutes of last night's workout, even though I felt like I was going to puke all over myself, the treadmill, and the Basement Proper.

10. Promote the hell out of yourself.
I like blogging. I like Facebook. Twitter I see as a necessary evil, but I'm beginning to appreciate it more. I think I can be a pretty effective self-promoter if I have to be, once I decide what exactly it is I'm trying to be.

11. Break it down.
I do this all the time. This technique is most effective when I'm home all day with both kids alone. Which I do enjoy, incidentally -- I know I don't have to qualify this statement for anyone else who has kids and understands the bitching that's about to take place, but I know such complaints can seem harsh to the uninitiated.

If it's 9 a.m., for example, and you're already exhausted from being up for 2.5 hours dealing with the refusals to get dressed, the juice spills, the fighting, the potty clogging, and the TV wars, and you say to yourself, "OK, I just have to make it to 6 p.m. tonight, when my spouse comes home. That's only NINE HOURS," well ... shoot yourself now.

If, however, you break the day down into manageable pieces ("OK, we will paint from 9 a.m. till 10 a.m."), you just have to make it one hour. One stinkin' hour. Even I can do that. Then, come 10 a.m., you set a new goal: "From 10 a.m. till 11 a.m., we will go to the library." Even if occasionally the 2-6 p.m. time slot is populated with a hastily scrawled "WATCH TV OR MOVIES" (or my personal favorite, "FREE TIME!!"), this plan is still is more attainable than a vague, nonscheduled nine hours of hell.

If you don't use this technique, it can turn into that scene from The Sopranos when Vito is on the construction site toiling away for what seems like forever, until he looks at his watch and it's only 10 a.m. This has happened more times than I care to remember, and it's pretty fucking mind-bending.

12. Avoid kryptonite.
In other words, lay off the liquor. Nope, not going to happen. Ten out of 12 ain't bad!