beginner mind

In zen, there is a concept of beginner's mind; it is zen in action.  In essence, it is the state of your mind when you drop your preconceptions, your expectations, your thoughts about what you know - you are just present to explore and observe, like a child. Or perhaps you are a child - I don't know.  I only surf the edges of zen, so I will not pretend to understand what it all means.

But I do know that I have been having my own beginner mind running moments lately.

A running buddy and I finally had a chance to meet up with the local trail running group, Trail Factor, for their Tuesday night runs.  In the dark.  On the trail.  With only my lowly headlamp to guide me.  The first run went pretty good.  I fell back a bit, but mostly I kept up.

Not so the second time.

They dropped me in five minutes flat.  Gone.  Just me, and the roots, and the dark, spooky night on the trail.  I thought about the one scene of Grimm I have watched this season - the first one, where the girl gets attacked by the werewolf creature while she's running.  (Consequently, I am pretty sure that scene was filmed in Tryon Creek - one of the parks I like to trail run in. Well, at least I used to!! Ha.)  I thought about all the times I have fallen in the daylight on the trail.  I wondered if anyone would miss me if I never showed up.

But mostly, I thought about how little I know about trail running.  How to land softly.  How to relax and flow down the hills.  How to run with confidence.  How to take the hills.  I realized that for all the running I think I have done, I have so much more to learn.

I thought about how I was the slowest one in the group, and I was giving it a solid effort.  I thought about how I wanted to work at it, and learn it, and get better on those trails.

I realized that I look forward to these Tuesday night runs because they challenge me to grow as a runner.  I will get faster; I will learn to keep up.

Thankfully, one of my running buddies found me on the trail that night.  We ran the rest of the way together, catching up as running buddies do.  But I did not lose that sense of beginner mind that I found that night on the trail.  It is with me still, and it has energized me in a way that nothing else has in a long time.

Have you had a moment when you realized that for all you know about running or triathlon, there is still so much more to learn?  Did it energize your training and racing?

time lapse photography...again

I know, I know. I am a total sucker for time lapse photography. But this one features all Oregon locations - and if there is something I love more than time lapse photography, it is my home state.


Finding Oregon from Uncage the Soul Productions on Vimeo.

is it time for an identity crisis?

Think about all of the labels you give yourself.  What are some of them?

Are you a runner?  A triathlete?  An ultrarunner?

What about the negative labels?

Are you not a runner?  Are you an inept cyclist?  Are you an old dog who can't learn any new tricks?  Do you resist calling yourself an athlete?

It just might be time for an identity crisis.  A recent talk given at the 2011 Neuroleadership Summit in San Francisco suggested that giving yourself an identity crisis just might be the best way to improve your personal performance.

The focus of that talk was on business and company performance, but the observations (as summarized by Mitch Watson of the HBR Blog Network) apply to sports performance as well. 

"A simple model for understanding the link between identity, brain, and their effect on performance goes something like this: 1) identity drives motivation, 2) motivation drives action, and 3) action drives results. For example, if someone speeds past you at 90 miles an hour on the highway, odds are you won't chase them down and issue a ticket. The reason for this is that you don't have an identity in your brain of 'I am a policeman.'

 A policeman, on the other hand, has that identity, takes action (chases you), and gets the result (issues a ticket). Look at every activity you perform in life and there is an always an identity directly behind it."

If you don't identify as a runner, you probably aren't going to run with any consistency.  Given the choice of running on a cold, wet day or curling up by the fire, the non-runner is far more likely to choose the warm, dry option.  After all, you aren't a runner, right?

For lasting change, we have to think differently about who we are.  It is not enough to just want to be an ultrarunner; I must think of myself as an ultrarunner first, and then let my actions follow that identity.  If I want to become a triathlete, I must think of myself as a triathlete, rather than just wanting to be one and hoping for the best.  This would explain why actually signing up for a race is a much better motivation for training than just casually taking on some of the training elements of any given race.

A positive identity of our self as a runner can also assist us on race day.  If we fail to truly identify ourselves as a being capable of what we are trying to do, we run the risk of a meltdown on race day:

"Have you ever been in a meeting where you're carrying an individual identity of, "I am an expert on this topic," and someone erodes that identity by challenging your point? What happens? From a neuroscience standpoint your brain shifts into a "fight or flight" limbic response and for a time you can't even think straight. All of the resources (namely oxygen and glucose) that were being dedicated to your thinking brain (the prefrontal cortex) have now been diverted to your emotional brain (the limbic system) and for a moment your ability to function effectively in your job is greatly impaired."

When the race gets hard and we doubt our own ability to do what we have set out to do, we can hit the wall just as hard as if we had not taken in enough calories.  Rather than tell yourself, "I am not a runner - who do I think I am!" when the going gets tough, it would be far more powerful and helpful to your neurological system to affirm to yourself that "yes, I am a runner, and I can do this". It isn't just positive affirmation mumbo-jumbo; this is actual neuroscience that can help.

After reading and digesting this information, I realize I am ready to chuck the identity that says "I am a mentally weak runner" (and trust me, I use that one a lot) and I am ready to take on the "I am a tough ultrarunner" identity in 2012.

So what identities are you ready to shed?  Which identities would you like to take on?  I'd love to hear! 

hold on tight

And so it begins.

I am officially registered  for the Gorge Waterfalls 50k.

Bring on the hills, the water, the rocks.

Yahooooo!!!

getting on the log

I don't know about you, but for me, December is all about next year.  Sure, there are millions of things to do with the holidays and all, but by far the sweetest is dreaming and planning next year's running.

I've been doing that a lot.

I've decided to "get on the log" as my husband would say.



Which basically means I'm going to make a decision and go with it, even if it means that I end up crashing spectacularly or finding myself at the bottom of a hill I never planned to ride.

I'm going with the ultras.

What "log" are you planning to ride in 2012?  I want to hear about the races you are excited to be running next year!

baking a pie

Baking pies has always intimidated me.

It was something best left done to the experts.  It was too difficult.  It was a complicated process that I wouldn't have the patience for.  It was just too hard for me.

I wasn't making any pies, but I was making a lot of excuses.

Still, there was that small, still voice calling me to baking.

Make a pie, it whispered.

There were no further whispers of encouragement.

Just 'make a pie'.

So I stalled.  I practiced making cookies instead.  Cookies were small.  And then I baked a cake.  From scratch.  And it was good.

Still no pie.

Banana bread, pumpkin bread.  Check.

Make a pie, the voice still whispered.

How about chocolate mousse?  Pork carnitas?  Spaghetti squash?

Make a pie.

Finally, the voice had been whispering long enough.  So today, I made my final preparations.  Gathered my ingredients.  Read my recipe.  Did all my training, you might say.  And then I made my pie.

It just came out of the oven.  And it smells delicious.

It is not pretty.  First attempts seldom are.  But it is finished.  I am at the finish line, and it feels great.

Running can be like that.  That small, still voice whispers "run a marathon".  "Do a 50 miler."  "Run across your state."

It is scary.  It might be best left done to the experts.  It might be too difficult.  It might be a complicated process that you just don't have the patience for.  It might be too hard for you.

Then again, you might just find yourself at the finish line, your sloppy first effort in hand.  And it just might feel fantastic.

What is your small, still voice asking you to do?

If you'd like to try your hand at making a pie from scratch, I highly recommend the instructions from smitten kitchen.  I made this apple pie.

 If you are craving carnitas, she's got a fabulous recipe for those.  You will feel like a total rockstar when you whip up a batch!

for your listening pleasure

I've discovered a few new resources for fueling my ears on my runs, and I thought I would share what I'm loving right now.

Rock My Run: 

These free music mixes are great for running tempos or anything that requires energetic effort.  My current faves are Rock to the Beat and Miles Fly By.  They are able to give them away for free because they use samples from the music - not the entire song - which is especially great for those catchy tunes that quickly become annoying when you listen to the song in its entirety.  They pay attention to the beats per minute of the songs as well, so that the middle of the mix gives you the most intensity. A resource worth checking out!

Endurance Planet:
Endurance Planet was one of my go-to podcasts many moons ago, so I was very disappointed when they stopped producing episodes.  A few months back, though, new owner Ben Greenfield revived the resource, and their new podcasts are better than ever.  While much of it is about triathlon training, they have produced a new section just for ultrarunners.  Greenfield's nutrition information is great too.

Geeks in Running Shoes:

These guys are great.  Brothers-in-law Ray and Jason explore the world of running from their nerdy, newbie perspective (though I can't say they are newbies anymore - both completed their first marathons in the past two months).  They also land a ton of great guests!  Well worth a listen.

Stuff You Missed in History Class:

When you've had enough of running information, this podcast is a great alternative.  Every episode explores a new, random history topic.  I've learned about the first female surgeon in the Union Army,  the history of alchemy (did you know that chemistry is just a new name for alchemy?), the story of the likely inspiration for Mary Shelley's Dr. Frankenstein and more than I ever imagined I could learn about the history of the first blood transfusions (way back in the 1600's).  Well written and professionally produced, this podcast is fascinating.

What have you been listening to lately?

I've been quiet for awhile. Running more.  Joined the gym so I can swim more regularly. Doing the life thing. What have you been up to?

I have also discovered timelapse videos. The guy who made this one is putting together a movie that will be released in the spring. Enjoy!


TimeScapes: Rapture from Tom Lowe on Vimeo.

life gets in the way

I had to pull my entry to the Autumn Leaves 50 miler.

:*(

But I've got a family, and that family has taken up sport in the past six months, and all of their sporting events fell smack dab in the middle of the race.  I'm a mom first, runner second.

I know there will be other 50 mile races to run.  Well, survive, anyways!

custom marathon bib, baby

As I picked up my marathon number this morning, I couldn't help but feel a little sad.  One of the coolest things about the Portland Marathon is that if you sign up early enough, you can have your name printed on your bib so that spectators can cheer for you.  It's incredibly energizing to hear strangers screaming your name as you go by.

My decision to run Portland was a late one - a spur of the moment, fly by the seat of your pants type deal that I hatched after running a great 17 miler with my awesome running buddy, who has been signed up for Portland since last December. 

Boy, did that empty space look, well...empty.

Not to worry, I thought - I'll just get a sharpie at home and put @runnerteri or something like that.  Thus appeased, we proceeded to check out the rest of the expo.

Wouldn't you know it, but two legends of marathon happened to be upstairs - Frank Shorter and Jeff Galloway.  Now Frank Shorter is one badass dude - in the 1972 Olympics, he ran the 10k and earned 5th place, and then turned around and WON A GOLD MEDAL in the marathon.  That's my kind of crazy! 

So yes, I about died when he not only signed my bib but made a custom design on it.

Legend Frank Shorter signing my bib

Best marathon bib ever!!

the run i did not take today

I can feel the run I did not take today in my legs.  The steady pounding, step after step, as I climb the hill past the church, passing the squirrels busy making their winter nests.

I can feel the cool damp air on my face, smell fall’s onward approach in the undertones of the earth.

Whisper, whisper…I listen to the leaves dancing under my feet.

Gliding down the hill, I see the trees showing off their new colors, standing sentinel along the streets where I run.

All of this would have happened, only I did not run today.

The run I didn’t take today will make me stronger.

In three short days, I will run my seventh marathon.

I will return to the scene of the crime.

Portland 2007 was my first marathon.  I did not train enough.  I chose not to take so many runs that I was miserable by mile 13.  By mile 18, I learned that even walking hurts when you haven’t trained enough.  By mile 26.2, I knew that I loved this pain, this accomplishment, this pride.

My legs are ready.

My heart is ready.

My mind is ready.

And so today I rest.  I dream.  I plan.  I wait.

put down that running magazine and decide what matters to you

Skim through any running magazine on the market, and you will find plenty of advice about how to run your fastest race ever.  Is this really a surprise? Learning to run faster requires the purchase of many things - from coaching services to expert books, from lighter shoes to high tech gels and electrolytes designed for top performance.  Running fast is sexy, or at least we are led to think that way.  The running industry may be built on our desire to improve our health and wellbeing, but it grows larger on our insecurities that we are not doing it well enough.

You don't have to buy in to this nonsense.

Think back to why you started running in the first place.  Most of us did not take up running because we wanted to start building a list of PRs.  We started running to lose weight, to find clarity, to take charge of our health, to seek happiness.  Good reasons, all.  None of these ultimate goals require us to push harder and harder at every race if we don't want to.  They can be accomplished by simply running happy - at whatever pace our bodies suggest is comfortable to us.

I am not saying that you should never try to run fast and get a PR.  For some people, the drive to make improvement is what brings them joy.  But we should never buy in to anyone else's idea about what matters in running.  We should define for ourselves what constitutes a great race.  Is it doing our best that day?  Enjoying the experience?  Connecting with friends?

For me, what matters in running is enjoying the experience that day.  Some days that might mean that I am letting loose and letting my legs fly.  Other days I'm chatting with friends and petting the livestock along the course.  Through it all, I try to keep a smile on my face and the love of running in my heart.  The races when I become too focused on how I am doing versus the clock are the races that I look at as being poor - even when I am running as fast as ever - because those are the races I cannot remember.

What matters to you in your running?

sweet video

Uno de lo mejor corredoras del mundo: Kilian Jornet.  (Él es de España, asi que escribo en español.) Este video es incroyable; el corre como un bailarín.

One of the best runners in the world - Kilian Jornet. (He is from Spain, so I write in Spanish.)  This video is incredible; he runs like a dancer.  


Well, that is what I was trying to say anyways!!

new adventure brewing?

I love it when life has a happy accident.

This morning, as I was browsing the portfolios of local graphic designers, I happened across a map one person had designed for the Klickitat Trail.

A trail I have never heard of.

A trail less than two hours from my home.

A trail that stretches for 31 miles, including 10 miles along a wild and scenic river.

A trail that passes by the hometown of one of my favorite running buddies - a town I have heard many, many, many, many, many stories about.  (Okay, maybe it's not that bad - but you know how it goes when you run together a lot!!)

A trail that is a converted rail bed, which means it is flat, flat, flat.

I bet you know where this is going.

Here are some images from the trail:

 

Now I have some planning to do!

you are fast enough

I love many things in this world.

Running is just one of them.

I'm a sucker for good books, cold beer, and guitar playing singer songwriters.

I also love street art.

You know, like Banksy stuff.  Or Ludo.

Unurth is a great blog to check out to learn more about what is happening in this new art movement.  They are always posting new installations from around the world.

So guess what I did today.

I made a little street art of my own.

But I am a fantastic chicken.  So there was no way I would paint on anything or deface any property. 

Instead, I made a little "You are fast enough" rock.

And then I placed it in this rock wall on my favorite little bridge in a local state park where I love to run.

And now I hope that someone finds it.  And maybe thinks, hey, I am fast enough just as I am now.

I don't think I am done.

details of the run

You know how people post the Garmin recap of their run, and it shows all these perfect splits every mile, and you think, wow, my runs never look like that?  And maybe you think that you are the only person in the world to ever have had a bad run, and probably it is because you have no business even thinking about running a 50 miler...

Okay, maybe that's just what goes through my head, but just in case you have ever found yourself wondering what an "internal" Garmin recap might look like on someone's bad run day, I give you mine from today's 18 miler.  Enjoy.

Mile 1 - Immediately realize I am in trouble for this run and consider tying a rope around Julie to slow her down.  She is feeling great.  She is chatting about all kinds of things.  I hope she doesn't notice I am already quiet.

Mile 2 - Not bad, since it was mostly downhill.  Of course, I obsess about the return trip the entire time.

Mile 3 - I'm trying to figure out ways to put lead in her shoes. 

Mile 4 - The "good" mile.  Did I mention it is a lovely downhill stretch, and only 4 miles in to the run?

Mile 5 - Distract myself with the perfect waterskiing water on the river next to us.  Forget going inward and focusing on technique.  It's all about diversion for me at this point.

Mile 6 - After Julie points out that almonds are an "interesting" food choice, I spend much of this mile cementing in my mind that I should never plan long run food on 4 1/2 hours of sleep.

Mile 7 - Considered hiding in the bushes at a bathroom break, forcing Julie to continue on alone. After starting up again, amused myself by watching a guy riding his bike like a drunkard up the hill we were climbing. Maybe this is a cycling technique I have never heard of?

Mile 8 - It is possible to physically and emotionally hate an electronic device. I spend most of this mile fantasizing the destruction of Julie's mean Garmin, interrupted only by fantasies of calling someone to pick me up.  I'm also ready to cry.  

Mile 9 - The urge to cry clues me in that I need to eat some carbs. Thank god for a bagel shop. I am both annoyed and pleased that the line is moving slowly. Eating a bagel helps tremendously.

Mile 10 - The only time I manage to go fast.  1/4 mile of sprinting to the bottom of the hill that I've been promised we can walk.

Mile 11 - Stupid 'effing hill.  It is possible to think one obsessive thought for an entire mile.

Mile 12 - Math abilities and memory of how far we are going are now gone.  I am extremely pleased that we aren't doing 20 miles, and I just have 7, no 5, no 6 - well some amount of miles left to go.

Mile 13 - We're going flat for awhile now, she tells me.  You know, so it's easy.  Mmm hmm.  Stupid songs are now stuck on repeat in my head.  "All the single ladies, all the single ladies..."

Mile 14 - I return to math problems for amusement.  I have now done 27.5 miles in two days...  I have now done 27.75 miles in two days...my legs can suck it!

Mile 15 - "All the single ladies, all the single ladies..."

Mile 16 - It's official.  I no longer like to run.    

Mile 17 - "This is where it starts to smell bad," Julie mentions.  Of course now I need to walk and take an electrolyte.  That's okay though - I smell worse than the sewer plant she is referring to.  Or maybe she is talking about me...

Mile 18 - The longest darn mile ever.  There is no gas left in the tank.  The guy walking down the sidewalk gives me a look of pity.  I'm happy to take it.  But you know what, by the end of that mile, I love to run again.

reflecting on what social media has done for me

When I began my blogging journey, I had no idea what the process would bring.

I was afraid.

Scared to show myself, scared to share my words, scared to put myself out there. I imagined stalkers and nefarious organizations hunting me down in the night.  There was no end to the litany of reasons I gave myself to never hit "Publish".

Did I mention that I have a vivid imagination?

But even with such an imagination, I never once envisioned that my life would improve from social media, that the connections I would make from Twitter and Dailymile and the blog itself would enrich me in ways I never dreamed.

I still remember the pit of fear in my stomach the first time I let my blog become listed in search engines.

But if I had never hit publish, I would never have had these amazing experiences:

• Running a Ragnar relay with a team I had met via Twitter and having one of the best relay experiences ever
• Meeting dailymile friends in real life at a morning shakeout run and brunch before the Portland marathon
• Helping a Twitter friend complete a 36 mile run for her birthday after pacing the first half of the marathon
• Running the entire Wildwood trail for my birthday with a group of fabulous pdx running chicks
• Making real, local running friends who are willing to meet me at 6 am for a 15 mile training run - midweek!
• Interviewing a cool teacher who was running the 216 mile Cascade Lakes Relay solo and helping him meet his fundraising goals
• Running my first 50k
• Learning about the Pac Rim 24 hour race, signing up to help out, running 35 miles and seeing real life Badwater badass Lisa Bliss run a zillion miles
• Driving, crewing and pacing a group of Twitter friends in their first 100 mile race, while being drenched, cold and muddy - and later learning how much it meant to one of the participants
• Having the chance to help race direct a 10k race, and learning that's not what I want to do!
• Earning 4 stars as a marathon maniac - before I met all these people online, I thought running two marathons in a year was insane

Every so often, I wonder if all of the blogging and tweeting and dailymiling is worth it.  I'll consider going dark - shutting it all down - but then something will happen that reaffirms to me that these things I am doing make my life more interesting.  When I look at this list of experiences I would not have had without the connections I've made via the Internet, I realize just how powerful this tool can be.  Sure, it isn't without risks, but without risk, there is no reward.

portland to coast 2011

Most days I am a runner.

But once a year, I get my racewalk on and participate in the Portland to Coast Relay with my Late for Lattes friends.   Portland to Coast is the sister event to Hood to Coast; we start at leg #13 early Friday morning, and walk 130 miles to the beach - each taking two legs of the journey.  The course is the same as the running version; we just move a bit slower along the way.  

This was my 10th year doing the walk.  I have only ran Hood to Coast once, in 1997, and I found it to be a crowded, crazy adventure.  By contrast, the Portland to Coast offers less crowded exchanges and more time to support your walker along the way.  And since finding a wonderful team, it has been difficult to imagine enjoying the race with anyone else.

Van #1 ready to start.

For the past six years, I had been in Van #2, acting as driver and van captain.  But after selling my minivan this past spring, I was a "free woman"...and we decided to assign legs based on walking pace and distance.  Thus I found myself in Van #1.

Now the tales from van #1 have been legendary.  Dancing at midnight, adventures with other teams, loads of laughs...the list goes on.  Not only that, Van #1 is the one who gets to have their team photo taken post shower...what's not to love?

I should explain that this team was originally formed by dance team members from the local high schools - both dancers and coaches coming together to walk this race.  They hear a song and bust out a routine in unison; it is something to behold.  I did my best to keep up.

We danced early and often.

 We may walk fast, but we also goof around a lot.  Here is our second walker doing her "peel the banana" dance...one we would see all weekend.

As we waited for our walker to pull up to us for water, we realized she had a strange hat on her head.  A vulture hat, saved from being lost along the side of the road.  There was no way this wasn't from another team...and now we had something to ransom!

 The miles ticked off quickly.  We would drive up ahead of the walker, wait for her to pass, offer water, cheers, dances...and then leapfrog ahead.  The clouds quickly lifted and the heat came on like wildfire.

The race vehicle. Our latte cup's foam lights up at night.

Walker 3 passes off to Walker 4

 Before I knew it, my leg was next. 7.13 miles along busy Hwy 30, with no shade and plenty of heat.  I focused on my cadence, counting "1,2,3,4" and trying to keep the beat fast.

My leg was hot. Hot, hot, hot.

 Such relief to hit the exchange.

The hardest part of race walking is getting the leg positioning right.
I actually have correct form here.

 After all six walkers are finished, we hand off to Van #2.  Here we are getting them ready to start.
While they walk, we attempted to rest in a blistering hot field.  Needless to say, there wasn't much sleep to be had.  Mostly I wanted to get going again.

Meeting up with van #2 for our first major exchange.

 After Van #2 finished their legs, they informed us that a major rivalry with Road Kill Grill had started.  Turns out it was their vulture we had found.

"I have yet to go out the sunroof!"

 As evening started to fall, our spirits rose.  We started hooting and hollering at the other walkers, getting punchy as only the tired can.

My second leg left me a bit nervous.  We were getting out in front of all the other teams, and fellow walkers were few and far between.  It was dark (I started walking near midnight), and the section I was walking was a lonely hill.  At one point, I could hear something in the bushes, moving along with me.  I thought about yelling, but instead picked up the pace.  Finally I passed it by.  The extra adrenaline helped me power up the hill.

Kristina and her "babies". We stole a second vulture while parked at an exchange.

We all walked strong on our second legs; by 2 am, we were done with our legs and were headed to the beach cabin for a couple hours of sleep.

Morning breaks on the lake where we slept. So beautiful.

Thankfully we were able to drive right in to Seaside, find a parking spot, and headed to the beach to wait for our walker.  Finishing for most Hood to Coast teams would be nowhere as easy.  We crossed the finish line about 8:40 am.

Heading to the finish.

 Our friends from Road Kill Grill, who had been very fun in the entire vulture-napping incident, finished about the same time.  So of course we had to have a little more fun.  They did let us keep the vulture hats, which will be incorporated into next year's decorations, I'm sure.

A little more heckling before we go.

We spent most of the day in the beer garden, eagerly awaiting our results.

They were well worth the wait.  Turns out we placed 5th in our division, 20th overall, with a 12:12 avg pace. Podium, baby!!

five ways to mess yourself up running

I'm not a coach.  I'm just a runner who has made lots of mistakes in her running.  I have finally seemed to have found a bit of a groove, running injury free for nearly two years.  Here are the lessons I've learned along the way.

1. Run every training run like a race.
When I first started running with any sort of regularity, I would find myself racing my last performance. If I was running a route I had run before, I knew my fastest time on the course, and I would run that training run in such a way that I could set a new PR. Every time.  There weren't easy days; only days that I didn't feel so good.  And that didn't really help my training at all.  It did help me mess up my hips and knees though.

I run a lot of easy runs now.  I will push a run when it feels good, but never in competition with what I've run before.  Most of the time, I don't even have the watch going.  I run by what I feel that day, and that has made a huge difference in keeping me from walking that injury line.

2. Be inflexible with the training plan.
If the plan called for 20 on Saturday, that's what I would run.  Even if I didn't feel good.  Or if the plan called for 20 on Saturday, and my schedule wouldn't work for that, I would just skip the workout entirely.

These days, I don't really have a day to day schedule.  I sketch out in my mind the major workouts I want to hit in the build up to a race, and then I fit those in when I can.  I could be more structured in my approach to training, but I find that less structure works better for me overall.

3. Run through the injury.
So I have stabbing pain every time I step with my right foot...running six miles on that will make me tougher, right?

Nope.

I take a day off right away now when something doesn't feel right.  And I wait until it is feeling better before I start up again.  I ignored this wisdom and few weeks ago and ran when my back didn't feel great; five days later, I could finally run again.  Had I followed my own hard earned advice, I probably would have only lost a day or two.

4. Run your ass off when you've only been training slow.
I recently learned an important lesson about going fast when all you have been doing is training slow.

It hurts.

Not just while you are doing it, but in the muscles that you rarely recruit when most days you are running at a leisurely pace.  If you want to run a really fast pace, you need to train your "really fast" running muscles - the hip flexors and the psoas in particular. Occasional speedwork is crucial in keeping those muscles strong if you are going to want to bust out a run every once in awhile.  I will be incorporating some weekly speed work just in case I want to throw a 5k in to the mix in the upcoming months.

5. Tie your happiness to a performance goal.
This one can be a doozy.  I worked really hard to run a sub four hour marathon at the Rock and Roll Seattle race last year.  I knew heading in to the race that I might have some trouble, since I had been sick during a few key weeks heading in to the race, but I really wanted to nail that goal and "prove" myself as a runner.

I didn't run well.

The first 18 miles were on track, but I fell apart after that...and then for months following.

There were a few weeks when I wasn't sure that I wanted to run anymore.

Slowly I began to change my thinking about running. Was I really going to let it be all about how well I did at a race? Was this the only reason I would lace up my shoes every day? Or could I allow my running to be about the journey over the performance? Could I let myself slow down and enjoy the people, the energy, the moments that make up a race?

The problem with tying your happiness to how well you run is that so many factors can throw you off.  How well you run should be a by-product of your joy and enjoyment of the sport - not the focus.

Learning that has been the best lesson of all.

after the run

after the run,
when your tired shoes huddle together
across the warming air of the register -
and your socks slink off to hide their pungent shame,
when your remaining armor
has been pulled with a grunt -
or lifted gingerly
from your glistening limbs,
and the hot, steaming rain
has lifted the trail from your skin,
once the bands in your legs
have begun to unwind,
after the heaving,
the panting,
the love you made, there
on the shoulder
of the highway,
the neighborhood trail,
the street where you live,
after all this has come to an end -
you sigh,
a knowing smile slipping across your lips
and coming to rest
in your heart.

cascade lakes relay 2011

Once again, the Cascade Lakes Relay proved itself to be one of the most entertaining, tough, and beautiful running experiences of my year.

Evening falls at Diamond Lake. 

We spent the night on the lake, listening to the guitar playing in an adjacent camp. I woke during the night to witness an incredible sky full of stars...

Van #2 enjoys an early morning wake up call to see us off at the start.

The wake up call came at 5 am.  My first run was only an hour and a half away.  A little bit of coffee, a couple of bites of greek yogurt, and I was ready for my 8.5 miles.

First leg.

Of course they are all smiling. They haven't run yet.

We may not be the fastest team in the race, but we just might laugh the most.

Creepy morning fog as Meg kicks ass up the hill.

The fog was incredibly thick that morning.  It was burnt off by 10 am.

Our own superstar.

A lot of dust, a lot of heat.
 

The most brutal leg of the relay is #5. Hot cinder roads, big ass bugs.

But at the end of leg #5 is a beautiful marsh.

Sarah takes off for our final leg of the morning.

 The first set of legs measures 47.5 miles - it is a tough haul out of Diamond Lake.  We enjoyed our rest in Silver Lake, finding the watering hole the first time (I had forgotten the way every other year), hanging out at the fire station doing some yoga, playing juvenile games...

Secret watering hole. So it's an irrigation ditch...

Yoga class.

The locals were fascinated by us.

We headed out on our second set of legs near 8 pm.  The sun was just beginning to set as I ran 7.5 miles down the dusty road.  While the headwind was good for keeping the bugs and dust away, it wasn't so great for my pace.

The sun sets as we begin our second set of legs. We were treated to clear skies full of shooting stars.

Unfortunately, I was not able to capture any good photos of Meg's glow stick running man. He was epic, in a 30 consecutive hours in a van sort of way.  We managed a couple of hours of sleep before it was our turn to run one last time.

I actually turned out my fastest leg on my 3rd go-round; a first for me.

Nothing goes better with a cold river than a Tecate. Even at 9 in the morning.

 We enjoyed the crisp, cool waters of the Deschutes.  This is beautiful country.

The race began to take its toll.

No words needed.

But before we knew it, we were passing off to our teammates and heading to Elk Lake for a dip in the lake.  Our relay was done.

We finished about 5:30 pm, enjoyed a few victory beers, and then headed to our hotel room for some sleep.

At 216.6 miles, the Cascade Lakes Relay is not for the faint of heart.  But it has proven, year after year, to be one of the best running experiences in Oregon.

two schools of thought

I had an experience a few weeks ago that I haven't had in a long time.

I ran fast.

I was part of a team that ran even faster.

Running fast in a tu-tu. It can be done.

We unofficially won the women's race at the Barrel to Keg Relay (except that we were in the wrong division, competing against mixed teams, so it doesn't look that way in the results).

I started having dreams of glory.

You know, the type where training goes perfectly, long runs are fast, and you find yourself running up the giant concrete stairs before your fight with Apollo Creed.  Wait, that was a movie.  But you know what I mean.  Dreams of Boston, flying low, zoom.

That is one way to run.

But there are two schools of thought on this running thing.  One is to run to the point of puking - nearly every time.  Haul ass, take no prisoners, head down, eyes on the prize.  The way to win.

But there is another way.

With joy.  And that has been my experiment of late.  Running more slowly, taking it all in.  Chatting with friends.  Meeting the livestock.  Enjoying the journey as much as the finish line.  Going slowly, smiling, zen.

Which way to run?

Both paths are right.  Both have joy to be discovered in them.  No matter what path you are on, enjoy the day.

running cape falcon

When life asks you to drive your daughter to the beach to stay with a friend, what do you do? You go running, of course!

Her drop-off location was near Oswald West State Park, a hidden gem on the Oregon coast. The beach is surrounded by headlands, so it stays calm, the waves break well for surfing, and the surrounding forest is filled with giant, old trees.  It is one of my favorite sections of coastline, so naturally I chose to head that way.  The trail along there is part of the Oregon Coast Trail, but judging from the conditions away from the park, the trail is not well maintained.

I would say that the cool air of the ocean was a nice break from the warm temperatures of the Willamette Valley, but who am I kidding?  We have yet to really get to summer here.  The trail was very muddy, so it was a challenging run - it was nearly impossible to get a rhythm (un ritmo) going, but the views were well worth the effort.

Short Sand Beach at Oswald West State Park. The trail goes out and around the bluff.

I am a sucker for hidden waterfalls.

Looking down on Short Sand Beach. See the surfers?
We do have some very cold surfers here on the Oregon Coast.
This is a hugely popular beach for surfing.

A hidden cove only viewable from the trail.
The trail extends up the coast, but it was very overgrown and bee infested.

As I was running along, I thought of a good challenge - to run from Arch Cape to Neahkanie Mountain and back - it would be nearly 20 miles of good, hilly trail, with fantastic views - a great challenge for a weekend.  Because of the bee factor, you would want to wait until the flowers were done blooming, but what a fabulous way to put in a long run!

am i lazy?

One of my favorite blogger writers of all things endurance is Ann Brennan.  Her writing is lively, her stories entertaining.  She challenges me to think about my running and my training, to consider new ideas, and helps keep me motivated as I work my way through my week.

When her latest article showed up in my reader, I read it with some dismay.  "Are you a lazy endurance athlete?" the title read.

As I read her wise words, I could feel something in me reacting.

Yes, I am lazy.

I have been very lazy in the past few months.  Sure, I've run some long stuff, but I haven't really been challenging myself.

I've grown very comfortable with where I am at.

At first, I found myself a bit angry.

Who cares if I am lazy? I thought bitterly.  It's my running life.  It's my performance.  I get to decide how fast and how hard I run.  If I want to walk every hill this side of the Rockies, that's my prerogative.  I'll be lazy if I want to.

But as I let the idea sit, I realized that perhaps my anger is coming from a different place.

Perhaps it is not that I want to continue being lazy, but rather that I am finally ready to kick up the training a notch.  Perhaps I am reacting in anger because I am frustrated that I have not taken things to the next level, and I am finally ready to do so.

Sometimes what we feel is not what it appears to be at first.  I am taking my cue from my reaction to her piece, and I am going to start picking up my training again.  I've rested and relaxed long enough.  It's time for a spell of hard work.

If you want to be inspired, educated and informed in all things endurance, I highly recommend Ann's blog.  She might make you mad enough to change up your training too!

race dreams and not following my own advice

I really should learn to practice what I preach.

Tuesday evening, I started to run and could feel my back tightening up.  I turned back home, ready to throw the towel in.  But I really wanted to run, and I thought, quit being a baby and suck it up, buttercup. So out I went to run six miles against what my body was saying it was ready for.

Guess who ended up with a back in spasm for the next four days.

That would be me.

Now I know better than to not listen when my body is telling me something is up, but I wanted to get the miles in.  I wanted to train hard.  I am ready to train hard, mentally.  But apparently my body wasn't ready to do so after two marathons on less than stellar training.

Lesson learned.

But I did get up to the mountains to go camping this weekend.  I had hoped for a 13-14 mile training run around Timothy Lake, but I had to settle for about 8 miles of easy hiking and lots of dreaming for next summer.

The meadow surrounding the campground.Bug heaven.

 We stayed at the small campground at Little Crater Lake, an artesian sinkhole just 1/2 a mile from Timothy Lake on Mt Hood. Quiet, with large campsites, this little spot is a gem.

Little Crater Lake is nothing like the big Crater Lake.
But it is incredibly blue and clear, and it's 34º year round.

Trails lead right from the campground to the Pacific Crest Trail - a 2,655 mile trail from Canada to Mexico over the Cascade and Sierra Mountain ranges.  (The record on this trail is 65 days, 7 hrs, 16 min. The film "The Runner" documents David Horton's crossing .  You could run to your heart's content on this trail alone.

Care to walk to Mexico or Canada?

In addition to the PCT, you've got a 12 mile trail around Timothy Lake, featuring many beautiful lake views, marshy areas and bubbling streams.

A peek-a-boo look at Mt Hood - still covered with lots of snow.

 It was killing me to not be able to run.  That's what I get for pushing it too hard.

A hidden marsh. We bushwacked to check this one out.

After spending some time on these trails, I decided that next year, I'm going to go for the Mt Hood 50 Miler. The race runs right through this area along the PCT.  And maybe someday, I'll give some serious thought to running the entire PCT through Oregon...

Want to kill some time dreaming of records you can set on long trails?  The Fastest Known Time is the unofficial repository of speed records on the major trails across the United States.