Finding Ultra (18 page)

But in the years that followed, I took it upon myself to quest more aggressively after the perfect running shoe. Influenced by
Born to Run
, in 2010 I steered away from the big-heeled shoes that were quickly falling out of favor and sought out the new, less supportive, flatter-soled varieties that were suddenly all the rage. The idea was to gain a better feeling of connection with the ground, and to foster a more natural stride in which my forefoot—and not my heel—would strike the ground first. According to McDougall and others, the cause of many injuries is the nefarious heel strike promoted by the typical big-heeled running shoe. At one point, I even went to the minimal extreme, trail running in Vibram FiveFingers—essentially, covered sandals with individual toe sleeves. I still wear them, albeit sparingly, but prefer a bit more support for longer efforts. The search continues, since I've yet to find the ultimate shoe.

It was not until 2011—long after that early Ultraman training—that I suffered my first running injury ever, preparing for the Boston Marathon. It was during a training period in which I was running far more often and intensely than ever before. A sharp pain in my lower left calf began to develop that simply wouldn't quit. I figured nothing much could be done other than to hang up the shoes for a spell and rest. That, and maybe some ice and a compression sock to reduce inflammation. Two months went by without running, yet the pain persisted. It was suggested that I explore some proactive therapy options, but such therapies seemed like a false promise.
I just need more time off
, I told myself. But my friend Greg Anzalone insisted I see Dr. Shay Shani, a chiropractor in Westlake Village, near my home, who was known for working miracles. I was very reluctant to allow anyone to touch my spine. I'd never suffered back pain, and the idea of someone twisting my neck and back until it cracked just seemed like a bad idea. Besides, why would someone go to a chiropractor for a calf injury?

Ultimately, though, I yielded to Greg's urging. And X-rays of my spine proved immediately revealing. A close look at my pelvic area showed why every time I suffered any kind of pain, ache, throb, or injury—be it passing, mild, or severe—it
always
appeared on the
left
side of my body. Due to scar-tissue buildup, a mild spinal displacement known as spondylolisthesis, and slight muscular asymmetry, my left leg was actually four millimeters longer than my right. This disparity in length, compounded by years of pounding and countless hours running, was the underlying cause of the calf injury. It also helped to explain why my left hand always went numb after hours on my bike, despite an endless array of professional bike-fit adjustments undertaken to resolve the dilemma. In other words, the calf injury was merely a symptom of a more congenital infirmity. Most orthopedic or podiatry specialists would
have gone no further than prescribing an insole for the right foot to even out the length differential. But that's like treating erectile dysfunction with Viagra. It may resolve the symptom, but it ignores the root cause.

Within a week after having my spine adjusted—and the scar-tissue buildup around the calf injury dispersed by laser therapy, active release therapy (“ART”), and massage—I was astonished to be running again pain-free. By maintaining this treatment protocol on a periodic basis, I got the injury to all but disappear. And with my muscle tightness alleviated and my problematic connective tissue subtly altered, my legs were once again even in length. In other words, Dr. Shani treated my injury the same way I treat my body—with preventive medicine. Having learned my lesson the hard way, I now make time for what I formerly overlooked in my training: massage and electrical stimulation (to improve blood flow and expedite the repair of small muscle tears), ART (to continually correct my imbalanced musculature), chiropractic adjustments and core exercises (to maintain spinal alignment and strengthen body stability), and laser treatments combined with the consistent use of foam rollers (to break up the accumulation of scar tissue in worn muscles, which can lead to injury).

Throughout 2008 and beyond I continued to deepen my plant-based nutrition knowledge, experimenting with new foods and paying close attention to their impact on my training and recovery. I discovered, for example, that a raw vegetable and fruit–based Vitamix blend pre-workout seemed to give me more energy for my training than a
traditional grain-based breakfast of cereal, oatmeal, or toast. Performance increased further when I began adding endurance-boosting foods like beets, maca powder, and chia seeds.

I also noticed that the more quickly I replenished myself with certain whole foods post-workout, the more rapidly I could rebound for the next session. For example, I added apple cider vinegar to my water to quickly alkalize my system, and I also drank coconut juice, which is high in electrolyte trace minerals lost in perspiration. To replenish glycogen, I made sure to eat plenty of complex carbohydrates in the form of sweet potatoes or brown rice. That seemed to work far better than nutrient-poor sources of carbohydrates such as pasta or bread. (Even the gluten-free varieties are processed and leave me feeling heavy and lethargic.)

Prior to more fully understanding the finer points of subsisting on plants, I was worried about not getting enough protein in my diet to meet the rigors of training. And so large canisters of hemp, soy, brown rice, and pea protein powders began to proliferate in our pantry—along with an array of other muscle development supplements such as L-glutamine, creatine, and branch chain amino acids (BCAAs), countless scoops of which would find their way into my post-workout Vitamix blends. But over time—and as I furthered my study of the specific protein content of plant-based foods as well as the unique protein needs of the endurance athlete—I began to consider the possibility that I might be overdoing it. I didn't like ingesting so many processed items, many of which are laced with chemical-based coloring and artificial flavoring. And realizing that nutrients in whole foods are always better and more easily absorbed by the body than nutrients in supplement form, I began upping my intake of plant-based whole foods high in protein until I eliminated the majority of these supplements from my diet altogether. I began eating things like quinoa, beans, lentils, peas, and tofu, a product I ultimately swapped for its more nutritious fermented
soy-based cousin, tempeh. I also ate a lot of raw almonds, walnuts, cashews, and Brazil nuts, the latter a natural testosterone booster due to its high selenium content. Also on my dietary plate: spirulina, a blue-green algae that is 60 percent protein, complete with all essential amino acids, the highest per-weight protein content of any food. In taking in all these whole foods, I discovered absolutely no protein-related impediment to my recovery or to building lean muscle mass. In fact, I continue to improve.

I still opt for a scoop of plant-based protein powder from time to time—after a particularly brutal workout, if I'm feeling overly fatigued from training, or when I know I haven't sourced quite enough whole food protein from my meals. I prefer to combine a variety of plant-based proteins for this purpose, such as hemp, pea, and sprouted brown rice, to ensure maximum bioavailability and assimilation of all the essential amino acids our bodies can't produce themselves. In fact, I recently formulated my own plant-based protein recovery supplement, in cooperation with microbiologist Compton Rom of Ascended Health, called Jai Repair. Infused with a proprietary blend of additional reparative nutrients like Cordyceps mushroom extracts, L-glutamine, vitamin B
₁₂
, and antioxidants such as resveratrol, Jai Repair is scientifically devised to enhance rapid recovery from exercise-induced stress and is a formula I've come to rely on as a key component in my training regime. For more information on this and many other products in my nutritional rotation, please refer to
Appendix III
, Resources.

The selection of foods I ingest
during
training has similarly evolved. In the early months of my Ultraman buildup, I ate what almost every endurance athlete I know eats in the midst of a challenging workout: a lot of sugary, electrolyte-laced, artificially colored and flavored drinks and gels. Popular brands like Gatorade, Cytomax, GU, and PowerBar are ubiquitous in the athletic and multisport world. Aside from some varieties, most of these products
are
technically
vegan. They're hardly whole foods, though, and yet I was quite reluctant to steer away from them. They seemed tried and true—the go-to source of training nutrition for so many athletes. I needed the calories to fuel my efforts, yet there didn't appear to be adequate natural alternatives. One day, while out training with my friend Vinnie Tortorich, a hard-core endurance athlete and veteran of ultra-cycling races such as the Furnace Creek 508, a 508-mile nonstop bike race through Death Valley, he chastised me as I sucked on a gel. “Rich, you gotta ditch that sugar crap. You can't go all day on that stuff.”

He pointed out the harm I was inflicting on my system by consuming so much artificial flavoring and coloring, and suggested replacing the simple sugar content of these products with a complex carbohydrate source: a more slowly metabolized energy that maintains and stabilizes blood sugar over a longer period of time. This is critical in ultra-distance training—which routinely involves eight- to ten-hour rides, for example. So I took Vinnie's advice and ditched the gels and colorful powders in favor of electrolyte sources such as simple table salt, coconut water, SaltStick tablets, and Endurolytes capsules by Hammer Nutrition. For calories, I began to experiment with non-GMO maltodextrin-based concoctions, such as Perpetuem by Hammer Nutrition, and
actual food
—for example, yams, sandwiches spread with almond butter or avocado and Vegenaise, as well as rice balls and baked potato wedges. Such foods might not produce the immediate burst of energy provided by a gel, but you'll be hard-pressed to suffer a blood-sugar crash. And my routine of taking in about two hundred calories an hour of such foods is one I've stuck to, since it keeps my strength high throughout even my longest training sessions.

At some point in my experimentation with nutrition I noticed that the more nutrient-dense raw vegetables—particularly dark leafy greens—that I incorporated into my regime, the more
energetic and steady was my mood and disposition. So a certain leaf called kale became my new best friend, along with spinach, Swiss chard, and mustard greens. Also making their way into my daily green smoothies were chlorophyll, marine phytoplankton, beet greens, and spirulina. And as I began to add healthy fats such as avocados, coconut oil, and hemp oil to my blends, salads, and vegetable stir-fry dishes, I found my energy further increasing and stabilizing without any negative impact on my waistline, which was nonetheless continuing to shrink.

I'd assumed that with all this training, my appetite would be enormous, just as it had been throughout my swimming career. In fact, I expected to be at war with my cravings, given that I'd ditched the meat and dairy. But I was astonished to discover that as my body continued to adapt to the training load, and the nutritional density of my foods continued to increase, I became less hungry. My appetite actually went
down
. I no longer craved the “empty calorie” foods I'd relied on early in my transition to plant-based eating, foods that were technically vegan and admittedly tasty yet devoid of significant nutrients and, in my case, quite addictive. “Vegan junk food,” as I like to call it. White bread, processed snacks (such as potato chips and french fries), and “fake” meats such as Tofurky faded from my program. And the less gluten I consumed, the better I felt, slept, and performed athletically. For the many recipes I have relied on over the last four years, see
Appendix III
, Resources, Jai Seed Vegan eCookbook.

With each successive week, I watched my body change. I became stronger, leaner; my face even changed—until I was almost unrecognizable, in the best way.

In August 2008, I returned to the sports training medical center in Santa Monica, Phase IV, for another lactate test and was proud to discover that I'd made a significant leap in aerobic capacity. My numbers were hardly elite. But my improvement was significant. By
eating plants, I was getting stronger. And by going slow and resting, I was getting faster. The irony wasn't lost on me. “Speed,” I was learning, is an elusive concept in endurance sports, particularly when it comes to ultra-endurance, a discipline in which maximum velocity and effort are values of little importance. Instead, the critical charge is to improve the ratio of exertion to relative speed; something that in my case was improving rapidly and quite dramatically.
Efficiency
—that was the prize I was questing after. Or as Chris liked to call it—
true endurance
.

As the training volume increased, it inevitably encroached on every other area of my life. I was forced to make some serious adjustments in the way I managed my daily routine in order to meet my professional responsibilities, devote the appropriate amount of time to family, and maintain some level of life equilibrium
—a sense of normalcy
. To be certain, the challenge of completing Ultraman had become very important to me—a
mission
. But I'm not a professional athlete. Time training meant time not earning. And it also meant, of course, precious hours away from my family. In other words, this mission—even if completed successfully—would be a failure if it came at the cost of my livelihood or intimacy with my wife and kids. No, I wasn't going to become an absentee husband or father. I'd heard too many stories of amateur endurance athletes who became obsessed with their training, only to end up divorced or disconnected from their children. And after all the pain I'd suffered to build the life I was so grateful to have, there was no way I was going to let that happen.