Look out golf, tech CEOs are adrenaline junkies
August 14, 2009
Filed under Running

NEW YORK (Reuters) – Golf and tennis not challenging enough? Some of today’s hardest-charging technology executives are turning to 100-mile bike races, marathons and high-endurance athletics for the kicks they crave.
The day-to-day thirst for success doesn’t end when CEOs and other business leaders leave the boardrooms of their billion-dollar companies, according to guests at the Reuters Global Technology, Media and Telecoms Summit this week.
"It is usually not a six- or seven-hour day, so part of it is you probably want something to keep you mentally and physically in shape," said Enrique Salem, chief operating officer of software maker Symantec Corp. "You want to do something that is challenging, that isn’t about running a business."
Salem owns a Giant TCR C1 bike, which retails for over $3,000, and last year completed a charity ride around California’s Lake Tahoe twice — the second time in under 4 hours. His sojourns don’t stop there.
"I skied 19 days last year. When I’m on the slopes, I’m trying to avoid trees and other skiers. So I am not thinking about what it takes to run Symantec. I think it’s a bit of mental relief," he said.
Long-distance running offers the same meditative reward for Hulu Chief Executive Jason Kilar, whose five marathons include Iceland, Portland, Seattle and New York, twice.
"I love setting goals," said the head of the video website owned by News Corp and General Electric Co’s NBC Universal. "Life is more interesting when you set goals that are not easy, and having a goal of a marathon … is a very fun thing that focuses you in a way that just running 3 miles or 6 miles a day does not," Kilar added.
They are not alone. In fact, Denver-based CEO Challenges runs sports competitions designed for top executives, including Triathlons, Ironman, Fishing, Sailing and Tennis Challenges.
HOUR CLUB
Dave DeWalt, CEO of security software maker McAfee Inc, described his goal for the grueling Mount Diablo Challenge, a 10.8-mile bike ride up 3,240-feet to the peak in the San Francisco Bay area.
"There is a race from the bottom to the top," said DeWalt, who also wrestled in college and had been invited to Olympic trials. "I can only compete in the over 200-pound class because there are some really fast riders. But there is the "hour club" — if you can do it in one hour or less, there is a special club. I can’t quite crack it yet but I am working on it."
To be sure, golf courses, tennis courts and myriad other sports — beloved by leaders of all stripes — won’t go out of business any time soon.
For example, the crop of presidential hopeful has diverse taste in athletics. Sen. Hilary Clinton owns her own bowling ball, Sen. Barack Obama loves basketball, and Sen. John McCain likes to hike around the hills of his Sedona, Arizona, ranch.
Some business leaders aspire to adrenaline-driven jaunts, but are willing to leave the serious challenges to more adventurous peers."
"I don’t have a lot of athletic bones in my body. I wish I had more," said AT&T Inc Chief Financial Officer Rick Lindner. "We’ve got (two) boats … that we keep on Lake Travis. I will still jump on the water skis from time to time."
"Once or twice a year when conditions are perfect, the sun is shining, it’s 90 degrees, the water is smooth. I get up, do a circle, come around and have a beer and say, "By God, I can still do it."
Athletes over 40 hurtle past records, stereotypes
![]() Matt Carpenter, 43 Carpenter – owner of a 90.2 VO2 max, a record high for the measurement of efficient oxygen use – leaps a gulley at Garden of the Gods. The runner is often a winner of the Pikes Peak Ascent and the Pikes Peak Marathon. Photo by Helen H. Richardson, The Denver Post |
Jason Blevins The Denver Post
The familiar doubt arrived, haunting Marshall Ulrich.
"You are too old for this."
It was 114 degrees, and 56-year-old Ulrich was 35 miles into July’s Badwater Ultramarathon, a 135-mile race that climbs from California’s Death Valley to the flanks of Mount Whitney. Ulrich was crossing Death Valley for the 20th time in his running career, and things were looking grim. He’d lost 6 pounds since the start. His legs felt leaden, his breathing was labored. He was cramping. Sweat pouring. He was dead last in a race he’d won four times.
Maybe he’d pushed too hard, racing across the Gobi Desert, taking on an adventure race in Virginia and an ultramarathon through the Swiss Alps during the two months prior. Maybe after two decades of endless running in 117 ultra competitions and a dozen expedition-length adventure races and summiting the highest peaks in each continent, he was nearing his end at the top.
Maybe he was simply too old.
"I definitely thought about that for a little bit," he says, leaning back into a leather chair at his home perched above St. Mary’s Glacier.
"I had to give myself a little talk and say, ‘So what?’ I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. So I’m suffering. Big deal. I expect to suffer, and really, I just don’t care. You have to remember you always come back."
After an hour in the medical tent and a gallon of water, Ulrich found his inner champion and passed more than 40 other racers on his way to the finish the next day.
Turns out age wasn’t a factor. For Ulrich and an impressive roster of other over-40 athletes, a combination of smart training and the wisdom of experience lets them stay competitive.
They aren’t winning despite their age. They are winning because of their age.
Oxygen-burning machines
"What we are seeing is a new phenomenon in that we have athletes who are basically athletes their entire lives," says Chris Carmichael, Colorado Springs training maestro to Lance Armstrong and a former pro bike racer who finished his second Leadville 100 this year at the age of 46, this time in less than nine hours.
"They just keep on going. They just keep on getting more efficient with their use of oxygen. After years and years of aerobic training and competing, they are, in a sense, smarter athletes."
And they compete in an evolving playing field that is turning recreation into sport. What were once multi-day or several-week hikes – like the Colorado Trail or the Kokopelli Trail – are now venues for nonstop endurance races. Marathons, once the pinnacle of athletic achievement, are mere training runs for ultra races that span at least 50, but more often 100, miles.
![]() Front page of the Sunday, 10/21/2007, Denver Post |
Adventure racing, which draws teams so fast that the biggest weeklong races sell out in a matter of hours, has evolved into a contest for those who can suffer the most and still keep moving.
Take Bernie Boettcher. On his 45th birthday last month, the Silt legend reset his master-class record and logged his fourth overall win at the Imogene Pass race above Telluride. It was his 267th race in 260 consecutive weeks. In those five years of every-weekend racing in sneakers and snowshoes, he’s tallied 115 wins and 208 master-class wins.
"At the end of suffering, there is a reward, and it’s a really neat feeling to overcome that suffering," says Boettcher, his blue eyes gleaming beneath his trademark wide-brim straw hat. "After a while, that feeling is irresistible. You plow on through because you know it’s so good."
Passion before performance
A common thread found among Colorado’s venerable elite – aside, of course, from natural athletic talent – is a late competitive start. Most didn’t begin their full-tilt racing career until their mid-30s or even later.
"Maybe that’s because we have a different set of expectations and the passion came before the performance, where a lot of guys who started young had the performance first and then lost the passion," says Matt Carpenter, a rarely beaten world-class runner who, at 43, just won both the Pikes Peak Ascent and Pikes Peak Marathon in the same weekend.
"You have to look pretty hard to find young guys with the level of passion some of us old guys bring."
A few months ago, Carpenter teamed up with Ned Overend, a 52-year-old mountain biker from Durango, to win the team contest in the Teva Mountain Games. The two gray-haired athletes giddily beat some of the strongest young competitors in outdoor sports.
"I have a lot more respect now for the old-man strength, and I know now, once the gun goes off, forget the age groups. It’s every man for himself," says 29-year-old Josiah Middaugh, a nationally ranked triathlete from Vail who has lost several times to some of Colorado’s toughest over-40 racers.
The passion of the extraordinary elders is anchored in a steadfast love for training. Sure, for outdoor athletes, training means going for runs and rides in the woods. Who doesn’t like that? But when it comes to competing at an elite level, training involves somewhere around 40 hours a week of heavy work, not a weekend ride or two.
And after a couple of decades of training, the older athletes learn a few tricks – like how to taper and how to make it fun – that keep them in shape while staving off dreaded burnout.
They have trained for so long, their fitness level is staggering and it stays high. They aren’t rolling off the couch to prep for a race. They are building on decades of work.
"Training is a part of our lifestyle," says Overend, who was twice ranked as the world’s top rider and still levels virtually all rivals who pedal against him.
"Racing is important, but training is absolutely important. … You have to build momentum, get the right intensity and volume and find the right recovery time. It’s complicated, and it changes all the time. "
Wisdom of the war horse
The right training regimen fosters the right mental game – and that’s where some over-40 athletes say they have the sharpest edge over their younger rivals. It’s the same for most sports, where the old war horses know the strategies of a contest and carry the confidence and expertise they need to defeat stronger adversaries.
"Physically, I know there are people on the starting line who are probably stronger than me, but that doesn’t mean I cannot beat them," says Vail’s Mike Kloser, a 47-year-old husband, dad of two teenagers, director of activities at Beaver Creek and the world’s most accomplished adventure racer – who still rides a mountain bike like he’s being pursued by wolves.
"It might actually mean I am more able to beat them, because they rely less on their mental game. The mental game is a huge factor."
So long as that mental war is waged before the start of the race. While a younger racer might be strategizing and obsessing during a race, veterans know that in competition they have to remain in the moment.
"For me the mental part isn’t really a part of it. I just get out there, and it’s too overwhelmingly physical to get stressed," says Dave Wiens, a mountain biking champion who beat Floyd Landis and his own record in his fifth win at the grueling Leadville 100 race this summer. "A lot of it is attitude. You are going to be as old as you think you are. I like to think I’m only 43."
Motivation is a varying characteristic among older athletes. For racers such as Carpenter, Kloser and Boettcher, it’s all about winning. Some race to win, but they race for other reasons. Wiens and Overend are so in love with riding, they will race long after they lose that perch on the top podium.
Winning for a cause
As for Sedalia runner Diane Van Deren, she races to win so that her message will be trumpeted.
A dozen years ago, surgeons told Van Deren her career as a pro tennis player was over. The chunk of seizure-scarred tissue they were carving from her brain would take with it her athletic excellence. Today, the 47-year-old mother of three is on track to become the most accomplished female endurance trail runner in the country.
Last month, she placed fifth overall at the 50-mile Dances With Dirt ultra in Hell, Mich., dominating the women’s field, setting a masters record and beating all but four of the male racers who lined up at the start.
She found herself grinning at the same panting question from several racers she passed: "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"
"When I win, I use it as a tool to raise awareness of brain injuries. It’s not about me. It’s about what I can do with that win," says Van Deren, a North Face-sponsored runner who works closely with patients, administrators and doctors at Craig Hospital.
"I want to take a gift I have as an athlete and use it to the best of my ability. My legs are my voice."
Ditto for ultramarathoner Ulrich, who has raised more than $250,000 for the St. Lucy Filippini Health Center in Hamelmalo, Eritrea, through his tireless running and fundraising.
"When I was young, it was an ego thing – pushing myself to see what made me tick," Ulrich says.
"Then I got that figured out and found another motivation. Knowing I’m doing it for someone else keeps me going. If it was just for myself, I wouldn’t do it. I guess I’m kind of getting over myself."
MATT CARPENTER, 43
Carpenter just changed his motto. It used to be:
"Go out hard. When it hurts, speed up."
Now it’s:
"Train like you’re young, and race like you’re young."
"I’m not making any concessions to age. I think the key word is denial," says the father of one, whose particular skill is running up and down mountains.
Carpenter says he is stronger than ever before, but maybe not as fast. Judging by his recent performance on his home hill, Pikes Peak – winning both the ascent and marathon in two days – it’s hard to see any declines in speed. Besides, a decline in Carpenter’s world means that his dominant wins are simply less dominating.
The 122-pound racer chooses his contests carefully and does not lose. Arguably the best mountain runner in the world, Carpenter logged a VO2 max of 90.2 in 1990, the highest ever recorded for a runner. (VO2 max is considered a benchmark of fitness and measures the amount of oxygen a person can extract from circulating blood and distribute to muscles during high exertion.)
Learn more about Carpenter, one of the more opinionated and colorful runners, at www.skyrunner.com.
DAVE WIENS, 43
Wiens owns the Leadville 100 bike race.
The five-time winner of the ridiculously difficult race put a special effort into this summer’s competition, knowing that Floyd Landis, and possibly Lance Armstrong, would be racing.
For training this spring, he rode the Kokopelli Trail Race from Fruita to Moab – scorching the 142-mile desert race in 12 hours, 45 minutes.
It paid off. When push came to shove in the final leg of this year’s Leadville race, it was Landis pushing Wiens – and the Gunnison father of three boys shoved harder.
Born and raised in Denver, Wiens started racing pro after graduating from Western State College in 1988. Wiens officially "retired" from racing in 2004, but that was before the two-time national mountain biking champion won his four Leadville 100s, the inaugural 125-mile Vapor Trail Race and the Crested Butte Classic 100.
Obviously he has his own definition of "retired."
"It’s kind of an obsession. That’s a problem I have. I am going to have a hard time defining ‘the end,"’ he says. "While winning is certainly more fun, I think losing has way more to offer in terms of character building. I’m going to do Leadville until I get beat. And then I’ll probably do it again."
BERNIE BOETTCHER, 45
Boettcher lives to run in the hills. Not just jogging, but racing and beating everyone who lines up against him.
During nearly five years of racing, the part-time artist from Silt has developed an encyclopedic knowledge of his rivals: their style, how they look when they are feeling strong, and more important, what they look like when they are suffering. Things like tilting their head back. Slowing the swing of their arms. And the most tell-tale sign, looking back over their shoulder.
"You know that that means? That means they’ve stopped racing. That’s when I make my move. For years I have worked on recognizing signs of weakness. I’m like a predator," he says, noshing on a buffalo burger after a quick 30-mile training run.
He makes sure to never develop a pattern his rivals could use against him, working feverishly to assure his strategy is never turned on him. His wife, Jeannie Blatter, is an equally gifted runner, and often the pair wake up Monday with pairs of matching medals. They both share an "excessive personality" that drives them to compete.
"Everything I do is designed to win at running," he says.
MIKE KLOSER, 47
Kloser started pedaling his mountain bike competitively in the mid-’80s after living in the Vail Valley for several years.
He dabbled in the pro mogul skiing circuit for a while, winning a few national contests. But he found his calling hammering the knobby-tired ride, winning mountain biking’s pre-sanctioned world championships in 1988. The father of two teenagers who are emerging as top-tier athletes themselves, Kloser credits his longevity to his switch to adventure racing in 1997.
"Now everything I do outdoors is training," he says.
In the past decade, the 26-year Vail Resorts employee has earned the most wins in adventure racing history, captaining his Team Nike to five world titles, three Eco-Challenge wins and four Primal Quest championships.
Last year he won the U.S. Winter Triathlon Championship at Grand County’s Devil’s Thumb Ranch, confirming his reputation as one of the world’s top all-around outdoor athletes. He does it all and he wins, sporting an unnervingly placid "isn’t-this-fun" grin with every step.
His strategy: pray for the worst weather imaginable. "I really hope for adverse conditions. I relish those hard circumstances because I know rivals wither in those conditions," he says.
DIANE VAN DEREN, 47
In April, Van Deren ran 47 hours, logging 150 miles without stopping.
On her final – and 15th – 10-mile lap at the McNaughton Park Trail Run in Illinois, race organizers began taking down ribbons marking the trail. After all, the racers had been there 14 times. Van Deren freaked out.
"Where’s the trail?" she screamed at the checkpoint staff. "I have a brain injury. I can’t remember!"
A flustered organizer joined her, running along the trail, pointing out the turns – and Van Deren set her record. Just like always.
After brain surgery 12 years ago, Van Deren must write notes on her hands and drop-bags on long-
distance runs. "Drink. Flashlight. Rain jacket." That keeps her focused on stuff like surviving while she stomps her way into history.
The mother of three – including a 19-year-old serving in Iraq – kept her surgery and seizure history secret during her first years on the competitive ultra circuit. When she established herself as a force, she came out and became one of the nation’s leading voices for brain-injury awareness.
She takes her role-model status as seriously as her training, which involves waking at 4 a.m. daily for trail runs that stretch past 30 miles.
"There are no shortcuts to what we do," she says. "It all comes from hard work, and we need to convey that message more clearly. It’s our obligation to set good examples."
NED OVEREND, 52
Overend is the living legend of mountain biking. The Durango racer started his career on the highest step of the podium as a runner, logging top finishes at Imogene Pass in 1980 and 1981.
When he mounted a mountain bike in the early ’80s, he began a career that kicked off with wins at the inaugural world championships in Durango in 1990. From there, he went on to earn two world champion titles and six national crowns as well as dual nicknames: The Lung and Deadly Nedly.
He beat his own record at this summer’s Vail Hill Climb – part of the Teva Mountain Games – beating Floyd Landis with a blistering time of 27 minutes, 29 seconds on the 9.7-mile, 1,500-vertical-feet climb up Vail Pass.
"Avoiding injury is my key," he says. "If my knees get sore on a bike ride, I turn around and go home. I stand in freezing water a lot too: the Animas River, right here in town. I think that kind of ice bath is a good way to reduce inflammation and reduce the chance of injury.
"Injury means needing to take more time off, and that can lead to getting out of shape. You can’t be this old and get out of shape, because it takes so long to regain it."
MARSHALL ULRICH, 56
Ulrich started running 26 years ago to handle stress as his first wife was dying of cancer. He ran a few marathons, barely dipping below the three-hour mark.
On a whim, he decided to run a 24-hour race in upstate New York in 1988. He won it, setting a record, and surprised himself by maintaining that three-hour marathon pace for the entire 24 hours. The father of three had discovered a rare ability to run for, well, forever.
In 2002 he began a quest he dreamed up at age 8: to climb all seven of the highest summits on the seven continents. It took him a mere 3 1/2 years.
Next spring, the lithe Ulrich will join renowned ultra runner Charlie Engle, 44, in an attempt to break the record for running across the United States. Starting in Seattle, the pair plan to run at least 68 miles – probably 15 to 17 hours a day – for 47 days, ending in Washington, D.C.
"There are lots of people out there who think it is extraordinary to go out and run 100 miles. For us it’s much more instinctive to do that instead of sitting on the couch drinking beer and watching a ballgame.
"We have this yearning. I always said I wanted to run into my 90s. Now I’m thinking I can do it into my 100s."
10 Running Rules to Remember
July 14, 2009
Filed under Running
Yishane Lee
Runner’s World
1. Do Your Own Thing
Whether you’re running or racing, go your own pace, in your own space. "It gets on my nerves when people sprint ahead, then stop and walk in front of me," says a high school harrier who goes by Sonic Runner online. "When you catch back up to them, they start sprinting." Conversely, ask before you match strides. A "partner" joined Tricia Lee of Flushing, New York, for the entire length of her very first race. "He kept bumping into me—for 13.1 miles."
What annoys me? Guys that can’t handle being beat by girls and try to sprint by me at the end!" —Kelsey Scheitlin Tallahassee, Florida
2. Know Your Place
With 10.5 million people in races in 2007, starting lines get crowded, especially when ambitious (or impatient) runners and walkers start too far in front. "At the Disney marathon, there were some walkers four or five abreast, holding balloons and singing," says Stephan Pinchac of Jackson, New Jersey. "It was exhausting to get around them." If you find yourself slowing down, pull over to one side to let faster runners pass by.
3. Keep it Down
Sure, chatting helps pass the miles, but not everyone wants to eavesdrop. "I had to listen to three ladies discuss their bathroom schedules, and the impact of calcium on their you-know-what," says Margaret Vento-Wilson of Long Beach, California. Other irritants: too-loud iPods, slapping footfalls, jangling keys, and beeping heart-rate monitors. "I ran a 5K next to a guy who kept screaming, ‘Hell, hell, hell,’" says Tom McKlin of Decatur, Georgia. "It was hell!"
4. Leash Your Best Friend
Bringing your pooch to road races is discouraged by most race directors, but many of your fellow competitors won’t mind too much, as long as you keep your four-legged friend close. "At a crowded 8K last fall, a guy running with two dogs refused to tighten up their leashes, so they were constantly moving around and tripping people," says Gwyneth Shaw of Tucson. And no dog imitating, either, please. "A guy at the Lilac Bloomsday Run, in Spokane, Washington, barked like a dog for 7.46 miles," says John Hildebrand of Saint Regis, Montana.
5. Watch Your Step
There is a reason why aid stations are often on both sides of crowded race courses—so you don’t have to cut people off to get to them. "One year at the Lilac Bloomsday, a young runner crossed right in front of me to get to one of the tables, forcing me to come to a near-abrupt stop," says Rod Steadman of Spokane. "After a sip or two, he did it again!" Doing a run-walk plan? "Pull over to the side so you don’t hurt someone behind you," says Laresa McIntyre of Singer Island, Florida.
"To the guy at the Napa marathon who used his cell to let his friends know the view at mile 14 was great: Please hang up the phone!" —Ron Harvey Tracy, California
6. Aim Fluids Carefully
Yes, sometimes the fastest thing running is your nose. But please, focus on where you aim your snot rocket, or your spit. "One guy actually nailed me with a giant loogey during a training run on a path," says Wendy Shulik of Chicago. "I was behind him, unfortunately. I’ve also been splattered by spitters during many a race. So gross!" Also watch where you toss your half-finished cup of water. "I have never had blisters so huge, thanks to the butterfingers who poured a cupful down the back of my legs during the Miami Marathon," says Chris Sahs of Miami.
7. Don’t Stink
"I once got stuck on a treadmill next to a person who reeked of smoke," says C.J. Epperson. Unpleasant odors carry outdoors, too. It should go without saying, but wear clean clothes and limit your use of personal products. "I ran the Chicago Marathon next to a guy who had slathered on smelly menthol stuff," says Pat Agnello of Brook Park, Ohio. "Phew-ee!" Runners tend to be forgiving of bodily functions, but there’s a limit. "I ran behind a guy who smelled like he ate a ton of bean burritos and drank a gallon of green chile before the race," Joe McLennan of Denver says. "He stunk, bad."
8. Dress for Your Mom
Unless it’s part of the program, as with San Francisco’s Bay to Breakers, refrain from silly costumes and minimalist attire. "Some friends and I ran the ING Georgia Marathon in Atlanta last year, and if you were there, you’ll remember the guy who was wearing nothing but a canary-yellow Speedo," Tom McKlin of Decatur, Georgia says. "Mr. Banana Hammock was a little doughy, and once the sweat seeped through the Speedo…let’s just say that parents were covering their children’s eyes."
9. No Whining
"The ones who quit a quarter of the way through a race because they’re tired—or worse, not beating everyone else—now that’s infuriating!" says Coyla Coblentz of Geneva, Indiana. Lapsed runners who have quit running entirely because they think it has wrecked some aspect of their bodies—and remind you repeatedly it will happen to you, just you wait!—deserve special opprobrium. Michael Chertoff, the secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, notes that his boss warns him off running all the time. The president, he says, "consistently tells me that I’m going to ruin my knees and that I should start to bike. I tell him I’m going to run as long as I can."
"I hate it when people yell, ‘You’re nearly there!’ when there are still several miles to go. When there’s no finish line in sight, I’m not ‘nearly there’!" —Heather Shea Danbury, Connecticut
10. Just Run
"The most annoying runners are those who are sure their way is the only way—no headphones, no loud talking, no this, no that," says Susan Funk of Mystic, Connecticut. "Better to see more people out and exercising than defining who is doing it ‘right.’" Adds Cindy Cauzzort of Zephyrhills, Florida, "I don’t mind making room for someone faster or going around someone slower. After all, we are only in competition with ourselves. It’s not about winning—it’s about finishing what you start."














