Yo Ho Ho & A Bottle of Rum

What a week I have had. I spent most of it feeling sorry for myself, desperately trying to cough my way out of a chest cold that settled in on Saturday. Thursday night I braved a soccer game, and by Friday, I felt okay enough to knock out a 5.5 mile run. The pace was slow and I wondered if I wouldn’t be better off dressing up like a pirate and cheering on my friends at the Rum Run on Sunday.

Saturday morning found me in an email frenzy with a Cascade Lakes Relay teammate, and we decided to hit the trails that afternoon. We took it easy on the hills above her home, but I felt pretty good - and even more encouraged when I didn’t feel worse once I got home.

So this morning I woke up with a quiet hope that I would have a decent race. I was not expecting a whole lot, but I could feel that nervous flutter as I walked down to the race start. This was my home turf - the trails I run long on during the week - and I was ready to give them my best shot.



Even more exciting, a Brooks IDer was coming up from Eugene for the race. He would be the first person I’ve officially met through the program, and I scanned the crowd looking for Doug. I quickly saw my running buddies, Ed and Mike, and then I found Doug. I spotted another soccer friend, Sandy, and said hello to her, and then promptly lost everyone.

Now all alone, I headed towards the start, where I found Doug again. I knew he was going to be faster than me, but not being able to find Ed & Mike - who I typically run with - I realized this was going to be a solo effort. Before I knew it, we were off.

Not 1/4 mile in, and I realized that they had changed the course on me. All the mental preparation I had put in to the race was blown, and I spent a good portion of time getting over the frustration. So much for going with the flow. The first mile felt great, and as we passed the 1 mile marker, I looked down at my watch - 6:33! Crap. Way too fast.

I settled in, trying to keep a smooth rhythm. I noticed that there were very few women near me; only guys were passing me. We climbed our first hill and then came on the 2 mile mark - 14:30. There was no way I had slowed that much - maybe I was more on target than I thought.

The next few miles were a blur. I didn’t feel great, but I didn’t feel horrible. I PRed the 5k mark - right around 22 - but I was starting to feel things in my chest. I kept trying to cough it out, but there was nothing to get rid off - just the chest tightness.

As we headed to the 5th mile, a couple of ladies passed me. I was starting to fade, and I didn’t have an answer. And then we hit the hill. Ugggh. It was steep, and when I hit the top, I was pretty sure I was going to lose my breakfast. I just steadied my breathing and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I knew that the course would head downhill soon, and soon my stomach settled back down.

I put in a solid effort down the hill, but my tank was empty. I just held on to what I had, but I knew at the 6 mile mark that it wasn’t going to be my day to PR. I crossed the finish, tried not to hurl, and started looking for my friends.

We all eventually reunited, enjoyed a beer together, and then decided we should check out the results. I hadn’t seen too many women, so I thought there was a chance I placed in my age group. But lately I’ve been snakebit by a tough division, so I wasn’t sure if I had run well enough to podium.

So I was shocked to learn that I was 3rd in my division, good for a medal! And even more surprising, I just squeaked into the top 10 women - taking 10th place - my first top ten finish ever. Doug was 2nd in his age group, and Ed took 1st in his - all in all a great day.

Lessons learned:

1. I still don’t know how to pace myself at the start. Seriously. I need to put weights in my shoes or something.

2. I don’t need to PR to have a good day. I really need to chill out in that department.

3. It really is all about the friends you make along the way. Even if I ran the worst race of my life, today was a great day because I got to hang with friends who love the same things I do.

Brooks Inspire Daily Program

A few weeks ago, I applied for the Brooks Inspire Daily Program - a grassroots community aimed to promote the Brooks line of running shoes and apparel by the people who know and love the products - the runners themselves. I myself run in Brooks Adrenalines on a daily basis, switching out only for my Infinitis. The only time I dare to not run in Brooks is on the trail, where my Vasque Blurs are my shoe of choice. I have not had the opportunity to try the Brooks trail shoe as of yet.

Now for me, shoe shopping is a bit traumatic. I have a somewhat narrow foot; it is nearly impossible to find a pair of Adidas or Nikes that will even come close to fitting. I have worn a Mizuno (though I had a disastrous 1/2 marathon in a pair on a canted road that ended up as tendonitis for 3 weeks), but all the others get tossed aside as I try on shoe after shoe just to make sure that I have the one that works best.

But I always come back to the Brooks Adrenaline. I guess it was eight or nine pairs of shoes ago that I was first introduced to this fantastic shoe. I remember clearly the salesperson recommending I try them on because 85% of the women who tried them could wear them. Now that's a high percentage of people choosing those shoes at a running store!! Have you seen how many options there are? But sure enough, I slipped it on and I could feel that it was built correctly for my foot. I can also attest to the wide variety of friends that love these shoes as well - from the walkers to the high mileage runners.

Happily, Brooks has stayed true to that shoe in the 2 or 3 versions they have released since that first time I found them. Nothing makes me crazier than a shoe company that tweaks the build of their shoes (I used to love running in a pair of Adidas that they completely changed one year. No more!)

I am looking forward to trying out their trail shoe, the Cascadia, to see if it will fit as well as the Adrenaline. I may also try their lightweight trainer now that I am running track workouts on Tuesday nights. And I am definitely excited to see their gear - oh, how I love new running gear.

I don't think that I will have any problem sharing my love of the Brooks shoe line with my running friends and new people that I meet. But I have realized that I am going to have to start blogging about my running again, in addition to all of the work I am doing with the runningrelays.com blog! Whew. That's a lot of writing and running! But still, I am doing what I love, and as long as it keeps me from having to get a "real" job, I'm good.

On Falling

I discovered this post from August of last year, and I couldn't believe that I had written it then. This idea about switching to trails has been brewing longer than I even remember.

I could feel the rock on my toe before I saw it. The collision reverberated through my shoe, and as I fell, I could see the fine detail in the dirt, the excruciating awareness that this fall was going to hurt. Stinging pains shooting through my knee - it's not enough to fall, but I have to fall on the rocks...

It had been such a beautiful trail run. 900 feet of elevation gain in a mile or two, beautiful canyon vistas, a babbling creek and deep green forest cover. And now it was going to be a painful trail run, blood streaming down my leg and my knees swelling with deep bruises.

This is how I run on trails.

I don't know why I feel called to run through the forest, but I do. I am not particularly good at it. My gait is what one what call "shuffling" - I do not expend a lot of extra energy picking up my feet. Consequently, I frequently stumble on low rocks, especially when I am daydreaming. But I feel such peace when I am out on the trail that I cannot help but hear its siren call. I want to run long on trails.

I feel an interior shift happening. I have been thinking so much about speed lately - going faster and faster - that I am getting burnt out. I want to run for fun - to have no idea about how far I've gone, only that I've gone for an hour. I want to relax and let go of the competition, which for those who know me probably sounds pretty ridiculous. But it is true. I do not like that competitive side of myself. It never lets me relax and go for the ride.

Enough of that. It is time to let go of the old ways and to find some new, more joyful ones. I am done with accurate mileage counts, with pace, with precise workouts that focus on results.

Sluggish, sluggish days

So I heard last night that the reason why we Oregonians are suffering terrible allergies this year can be traced back to our nutty thunderstorms earlier this month. Apparently the force of the wind and the rain pulverized our poor little pollen spores so that they have become a fine dust, settling into our systems to turn us in to miserable, sneezing creatures. I can surely attest to the severity of this year's allergy season. I think it is ruining my running.

Okay, probably not for real, but I've got to blame something for my recent lack of energy. Pushing out a run at a 9:20 pace is not easy these days. I'm finding it harder to wake up in the morning. (Why is the word 'overtraining' flashing in my brain????) But what is surprising is that before I got sick this spring, 40 mile weeks were feeling fantastic. I was speeding up, I was feeling great - I was in the flow. But now, I can't get my weight back down, I can't pick up the pace, and I'm falling apart on this plateau.

I have a million theories about why this might be happening. Some involve planetary alignment, some on the obliterated pollen, some on what must have been swine flu that I caught this spring (oh sure, my daughter's flu swab said Influenza B, but I mean, come on. It must have been something terrible.) But none of that really matters, does it? Because whatever the cause, it is happening, and I just have to keep on trudging through it.

At least experience has shown me that these lulls do eventually end for whatever reason. Relay season is upon us, and nothing gets me recharged for running like spending 30 hours in a van with my best running friends. I can only hope that the turn around will begin before that time, and I'll be ready to meet the road with a big smile on my face!

Doh.

Well, my heart was in the right place, but my legs decided to take a vacation. My 10k was not what I had hoped it would be, but I survived and had a fantastic beer at the finish. What else do I need?

Definitely need to start doing some speedwork and working on leg turnover. Or I need to chill out.

One of the two.

Midnight. Race in 8 Hours.

Am I the only one that is hit with nerves the night before the big race?  I try to lay down and get some sleep, but no.  I can't.  I'm too busy running a few more miles in my mind to be able to rest.  It's crazy, and it's delicious, and it's a big part of why I love running so much.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to race in the 10 Cane 10k, mostly because I am curious about finding where my speed is at right now.  I spent so much time focusing on distance for the marathon and recovering from the never-ending crud that I have put little effort into speeding things up.  But it's the possibility of a pleasant surprise that keeps me from sleep.

This inability to calm my nerves enough to rest would probably make me a terrible adventure racer.  I was watching some Primal Quest videos the other day, and I have to admit, I'm interested in those too.  What is it with me?  I have so many things on my to-do list; not one of them includes cleaning up the house, which could really use it.  But I'd so much rather hit the road or the trail, come home muddy, and plan the next adventure.  I guess I just need to learn to live with it.

I don't have much more to say.  I guess I'll go lay down and mentally run the race a few times so that I'm ready to go in the morning!

A Long Time Away

I've been very busy with my runningrelays.com blog - too busy, in fact, to update my personal blog once since last March.  Not one mention of my marathon, my ever lasting flu/bronchitis/diseased lung (ha ha), my cross country journey which has reached the halfway point for the year.  Nothing.

But today's topic of TiART is Relays, Ultras and Tri's, oh my!  and I just can't resist.  Because I guess I'm, at heart, a non-traditionalist, if that's what relays and ultras are all about.  It's no secret that I'm crazy about relays - how could I not be if I spend most of my free time researching and blogging about relays and team names? - but I'm a little crazy about ultras too.  I just haven't done one yet.

I first learned about ultras after reading Dean Karnazes' Ultramarathon Man.  I was fascinated by a race called the Badwater Ultra - a 135 mile race through Death Valley at the height of summer.  Now I've driven through Death Valley in June - it was miserable.  But to learn that there are people who run across it?  I was fascinated!  So I picked up a copy of Running on the Sun, a documentary from the race.  A new world was opened to me.

Now, let me just give a disclaimer; I really don't want to do the Badwater.  But I am inspired by running long, by the idea that a race can be about going the distance, rather than going the distance the quickest.  A race where it's me against the terrain, the elements.  The type of race where you find what you are made of. That I like.

So I signed up for my first trail run - a 25k out at Hagg Lake in February - a place known for its mud.  Although I wasn't running the ultra distance, I was running in the ultra environment (there is a 50k that day too), and what I saw, I loved.  The atmosphere is much more relaxed than a traditional road race.  Aid stations are stocked with things like gummi bears and pretzels and soda.  After the race, we enjoyed hot dogs and soup.  Everyone seemed to support each other, to share the trail and encourage each other.  It was one of the hardest races I've done - I was walking at the end, with muddy shoes and legs (and apparently, it wasn't even a muddy year!).  And I thought it was so cool.

It's the shared spirit that I respond to, I think.  In relays, you are sharing an experience and challenging yourself in a way that I find lacking in a regular road race.  It is very common for ultrarunners to run together for long stretches, helping and encouraging each other through the painful miles. I can't put my finger on why this would be true of ultras and relays, and not regular races, but it is there.  I can feel it.  So I'm looking at trying an ultra distance next; maybe tackling the 50k version of Hagg Lake.  It's a lot to contemplate, but I find it exciting.