Well, better late than never. Despite having a great road trip with friends and a fantastic run at Stone Cat 50 Miler, it has been somewhat trying in my attempts to get back to writing on this blog. I guess you could classify it as a depression of sorts; the 2010 ultra racing season coming to a close. Although the prospects of what is to come in 2011 seems exciting, it is a little bumming to think that now it's time to take a break. Granted, it is a much needed break, but still ...
So first, the down and dirty of the Stone Cat 50 miler. It was, as I had expected, an absolutely wonderful time. I look forward to this late fall race because it is my last chance of the season to spend countless hours on the trails and to celebrate with friends. What was different this year was that some of my friends who are usually around for the entire 50 opted for the marathon distance this year and therefore were not there when I finished my run. So I missed celebrating and visiting with them. But the good news was that I was able to share this fun time with Lorrie and Becky and Joe, who all had super runs in the marathon and were there to celebrate my finish with me. And then were there to wait on my pitiful ass as I layed exhausted on the hotel bed post-race! They were all wonderful.
My 50 mile time was 10:28:14, my slowest Stone Cat so far. However, I felt great the entire run. I suspect two reasons were the culprits for my slower time ... my lax in training since VC100 (50) and the fact that I dared to run the entire 50 in my New Balance WT100s - my first longest run in these minimal shoes. And I felt great for it. My time may have been slower, but my body felt great after. Not the usual burning feet problem that I have. I am a convert. No more cushy shoes. Likely I will have to go with my Inov-8 X-Talon 212s for the Winter Beast of Burden, but I don't see myself going to any bulkier style shoe in the near future.
So that brings me to my minimalist running changes. I have since been running in the WT100s and most of the time without socks, which really gives me a more "barefoot" feel of running. I am waiting for my Vibram Five Finger KSO Treks to come in the mail and can't wait. Can't wait for the snow to fall to see where I will take myself in trying to stay minimalist while trying to avoid frostbite!
And speaking of the winter ... I just watched my friend Yassine's video of him snowshoeing on Mt Hood. How awesome and I am way way jealous. It looks like tons of fun and I am so hoping to get a lot of snowshoe hiking in this winter.
And now on to the diet thing. It's time to get my butt serious again. I have an extra 12 pounds hanging around that really need to go. I don't want to totally remove things from my diet, as that usually makes me go back to them ten-fold, so it's a matter of moderation. Time to hit the veggies and avoid the processed foods. Time to, oh I hate to even mention it, go to lite beer unless I am celebrating after a strong race. The good beer must be reserved for an equally good performance. Enjoying it on a daily basis is not a treat.
And that's all I can really think of right now to ramble on about. Maybe soon I will get myself together to put a more thoughtful post down, but for now it was just a matter of needing to get myself going again.
Rest well and enjoy time off ... soon time to start training for the Winter Beast of Burden 24-hour starts! Cowgirl up!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Nice Ending To A Nice Run
Holy smokes . . . two posts in one day! Just got home from a nice 6.4-miler with Joe. A very cool and windy fall run up through Arnot Forest with only one vehicle sighting on the forest roads and one vehicle sighting on the road outside of the forest on the way home. What an absolutely beautiful run with a nice recovery drink of hot chocolate after. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better . . . I look out in the back yard and there is my little buck enjoying what's left of the apples from our trees! Usually it's him and his momma and sister who are out there, but he was on his own this time. So I just sat and watched him . . .
In Limbo
Well, it's October and it's that hard time on the running scene. It's been a long year of races with ups and downs but it's not over yet and I am not ready for it to be over. It's been 3 1/2 weeks since my last "race" and I am ready for the down-time to be over. It's time to get back into the run with friends. And with hunting season starting up, there's the risk that goes with entering the woods. Right now it's bow-hunting season and I feel fairly comfortable hitting the woods during this time. When hunting with a bow, the hunters really need to narrow down their target before shooting, which definitely gives them the chance to identify you as a runner and not a deer. However, once shot gun season starts, that's a different story. I have heard too many scary stories and it seems that some hunters shoot by sound and not by sight. Once shot gun season starts, I will stick to the roads until it's over.
Today I woke to a beautiful sight . . . a light snowfall! Definitely not enough to cover the ground, but a very picturesque sight. And maybe a little to sad to think that the ground will soon be covered in snow and the running game will take on new strategies . . . like with snowshoes! Woo hoo! I am definitely psyched to get the snowshoes out again for some longer runs and hikes and hopefully discover some new places with them.
Our porch is taking on a great new look . . . actually looks like a porch now with a roof and everything! I can't wait to have it done and be able to sit outside when it's snowing or raining and enjoy a good cup of joe or a nice cold brew! What a way to relax after a run.
So don't be sad that the racing season is coming to a close for the year . . . be happy and think about what new things you will get to do to rejuvenate your passion and your soul during the winter.
"In the morning sunshine, in the evening twilight, a small Bear travels through a Forest. Why did we follow him when we were so much younger? He is, after all, only a Bear of Little Brain. But is Brain all that important? Is it really Brain that takes us where we need to go? Or is it all too often Brain that sends us off in the wrong direction, following the echo of the wind in the treetops, which we think is real, rather than listening to the voice within us that tells us which way to turn?" - The Tao Of Pooh
Today I woke to a beautiful sight . . . a light snowfall! Definitely not enough to cover the ground, but a very picturesque sight. And maybe a little to sad to think that the ground will soon be covered in snow and the running game will take on new strategies . . . like with snowshoes! Woo hoo! I am definitely psyched to get the snowshoes out again for some longer runs and hikes and hopefully discover some new places with them.
Our porch is taking on a great new look . . . actually looks like a porch now with a roof and everything! I can't wait to have it done and be able to sit outside when it's snowing or raining and enjoy a good cup of joe or a nice cold brew! What a way to relax after a run.
So don't be sad that the racing season is coming to a close for the year . . . be happy and think about what new things you will get to do to rejuvenate your passion and your soul during the winter.
"In the morning sunshine, in the evening twilight, a small Bear travels through a Forest. Why did we follow him when we were so much younger? He is, after all, only a Bear of Little Brain. But is Brain all that important? Is it really Brain that takes us where we need to go? Or is it all too often Brain that sends us off in the wrong direction, following the echo of the wind in the treetops, which we think is real, rather than listening to the voice within us that tells us which way to turn?" - The Tao Of Pooh
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Realizations Of An Ultrarunner
My name is Chris. I am an ultrarunner. I can’t stop. I need help.
THE HISTORY: I have had four 100-mile run attempts with the following results: two voluntary drops, both after running more than 80 miles, one finish (WOO HOO!!), and one DNF due to not making the time cut-off. The record: 100 milers – 3, me – 1. Still feeling like I had it in me to level the score, it was time to tackle another. Enter Virgil Crest 100. Would I ever learn?
After my attempt at the Massanutten Mountain 100-miler in May and ultimately being “timed-out” by cut-offs after 28 ½ hours and 76 miles of “running”, I swore I wouldn’t do it again. No more 100 milers right now. I have always said that 50 miles is a good distance; it’s hard, you know you have done something, but you’re not totally wasted after. 50 miles is fun and I like fun. My attempts at running 100 miles, even my one successful finish, left me tired and took time to mentally and physically recover. I love the races; they are celebrations with friends and the trails, but I also want to be able to get right back at it afterward. Thinking about it now, it took too long to “get back at it” after each 100 attempt. But unfortunately, as I said in my MMT report, the body forgives what the mind forgets. Apparently I have a very forgiving body and a very short memory.
Shortly after MMT I decided to register for the Virgil Crest 50-miler. I had done it last year and had an absolute blast at it. It’s my home-course, it’s comfortable, and I feel very content on these trails. I always know where I am. But then something happened. I started to get that antsy feeling, reading race reports, talking with others who ran Vermont 100 and Burning River 100 and the excitement just took me over. I started logging the miles again and felt confident that this time I could do it. And what better place to do it than on my own turf, the trails that love me and I love them. It would be perfect. I know my limits; I had no intention of even thinking that I would win or even be under 24 hours, but I knew that, as it is written in The Alchemist, “When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you achieve it." Yes, this time it would happen. So onto my e-mail I went, asking Ian to switch me over to the 100 and quickly writing the check to seal the deal.
I couldn’t wait for race weekend to get here. I had my loving Joe-crew and my pacer, Karen. They know me well, my strengths and my weaknesses and what needs to be done to get the job done. This year I decided to forego the camping at the race site and get some good zzzz’s in my own bed. Living only 45 minutes from the start, I decided that it would better serve me to get up a few minutes earlier, loosen-up with a hot shower, and enjoy some hot coffee while taking time to wake up on the drive to Virgil.
RACE DAY: I wasn’t nervous and actually felt very at ease, arriving at the start with about 30 minutes to spare. I started off carrying a bottle of just water with a NUUN tab in it, trying to get a little hydrated early on and knowing that after just eating breakfast I couldn’t stomach any Accelerade right away. I would get a bottle of Accelerade at the first aid station, 5.4 miles away, from Joe.
GRAVEL PIT: It was actually a bit more humid than I would have liked at the start, but there was a bit of a breeze and I only hoped that it would cool down a bit more. For me, the colder, the better. I felt very at ease running the first section; my stomach started growling a bit and I was looking forward to filling it with some Accelerade soon. And then I got to the Gravel Pit station and saw Joe . . . empty-handed. He had to park more than ½ mile away from the station and hadn’t brought the bottle. In the heat of the moment of hunger, a moment of crankiness took over and then I finally succumbed to the fact that I would just have to deal with it. So I filled my bottle with Gatorade (which is normally OK, but, ummmm, it was the one flavor that I just really don’t like . . . orange). Oh well, I knew that I soon would have my pretty blue Accelerade and tried to give myself an attitude adjustment, which happened pretty soon, and then I just felt bad for my crankiness and just had to run it out of me.
The trails were in superb condition, the sun was out, but I just wasn’t yet feeling like I was in a 100 mile run. I have had this happen before and it always passes, so I wasn’t too worried. I finally found my running groove somewhere in the woods and started to feel better. I came out onto Carson Road and there was Joe and it was good to see that I hadn’t offended him to the point of abandonment. This was a huge mental boost and I apologized for my crankiness. I met up with Ed Edington and we ran down Carson Road. Ed does a great deal with helping out with this race, the website, and training runs on the course and it was good to get a little insight from him.
LIFT HOUSE 5 LOOP: I knew that this was full of steep climbs, so I tightened my shoelaces, grabbed my bottle of Acclerade, stuffed something into my mouth to chew on and headed out. The sun was out, which I feared when I realized the change in timing of this loop. Last year we ran this loop first and it wasn’t bad getting it done before the sun came out. I definitely felt the heat of the sun, even with the cooler temps, this time. The loop started out familiar and then . . . WHAM! The beginning of several steep climbs. I slalomed my way up and down the steep sections, however, on one of the shorter steeper climbs to the top lifthouse I felt a sharp tearing/burning feeling in my right calf. I immediately stopped, hoping that I had not done any major damage. After a minute of resting I resumed the climb in sort-of duck-walk-like fashion. It wasn’t pretty but I made it to the top without anymore calf pain. I so wanted to just tear-up the downhill back to the aid station but I knew this would spell disaster, tearing up the quads too early, so I just slalomed down as easy as I could. OK, six miles to go until the next aid station, so I filled two bottles to get me there, grabbed some tapioca pudding that Joe supplied, some skittles, and headed off. I know this section well. So far, so good.
LIFT HOUSE 5 TO ROCK PILE: Now it just felt like I was back in the Monster Marathon. I just couldn’t get myself into the 100-mile groove. It was a bit disturbing how I had thought that knowing the trails would be to my benefit when all I could think about as I climbed Virgil Mountain was that I was on “The Monster course” and when I crossed over to Greek Peak it was now “The Frolics course”. I wasn’t at the Virgil Crest 100 yet. The run to the rock pile was nice, as I ran with and chatted with Ed, playing leap frog almost the entire way. Knowing that Ed had completed the 100 here before and that he had been training out on the course, I was confident that the pace was good and felt comfortable and happy to run and chat with him.
ROCK PILE: Still felt good. Joe had hiked up to the rock pile and was there to refill my bottles and feed me with tapioca pudding and rice krispie treats. Yummmmm. I can’t say enough about tapioca pudding. It just goes down so easy and digests nicely. This item is definitely an ultra-fuel keeper. Refilled and refueled, nothing hurting at this point, Ed and I headed off for Daisy Hollow together.
ROCK PILE TO DAISY HOLLOW: I love this section. There are some tough climbs, but once you hit the sweet single track on the other side of Babcock Hollow Road, you’re in heaven. What?! Those dogs out on Babcock Hollow Road are still alive after all these years?! Running comfortably but still not in my 100 groove, I was brought back to the days of running the “Mountain Madness”. Was I ever going to feel like this was the 100 mile race that I wanted so badly to be in?
I had been running with Ed pretty consistently since leaving the rock pile and it was really nice. And comfortable. But I just wasn’t finding my groove. Finally I realized that I was just getting lazy, letting my run be dictated by another – not that Ed was running a bad pace or anything, but if he walked, I walked, and there were sections where I just needed to kick myself into gear. So I finally put my mind to it and found some groove and flow energy. I am much mentally tougher when I am on my own and I just needed to find that toughness. The 100-mile and 50-mile leaders had already passed me way before I even crossed Babcock Hollow road, along with several others, but now I finally hit the mother load heading back. It was really nice to see everyone and exchange good wishes.
DAISY HOLLOW: I had heard there was hot soup and potatoes out here and was really looking forward to lunch. I never miss a meal during an ultra, always taking the time to really enjoy the “real food” aid station fare. Joe was waiting for me and refilled my bottles as I enjoyed two cups of chicken soup. The hot buttery potatoes looked really excellent and I really wanted them, but the soup pretty much filled me up and I didn’t want to overdo it. As I prepared to leave Daisy Hollow Ed showed up, looking strong. I knew that he would catch me again; we played the game this far and I knew how it went. Time to head back and do it again.
ROCK PILE: I had run from Daisy Hollow to here all by myself, feeling like I was starting to find myself, but still not yet feeling like I was in a 100. WTF?! By the time I got back to this station I was soooo hungry again. And there was my tapioca pudding – my not-so-secret love, just waiting for me – with Joe and Karen, of course! I was ready for something hot and solid to eat and heard that pizza was on its way to the aid station. I really just wanted to hang out and wait for it, but after realizing that was not a reasonable idea, I headed out. My feet still felt really good (not having any of the usual “burning” that I get) and my legs felt great. I was staying hydrated and fuelled and mentally felt strong. Why didn’t I feel yet like I was at the VC100? Probably because I was back in Monster Marathon mode, just a short run to its finish, when in reality, I was nowhere near the finish.
Back down to the creek crossing . . . I remember the days when this creek would be anywhere from ankle to mid-calf deep and now it just has spurs of water that I could easily step over. When I got to the other side of the stream I realized that I hadn’t sat down since the ride to the race that morning. It was time for a brief rest, so I sat down on a tree root that circled out from the ground and had a revelation. Nature’s toilet! Truly, by the rules of trail running and hiking, this was not the place that one should relieve themselves, but it really did feel like sitting on a toilet! Now, I didn't use "the toilet" . . . but look at what I discovered! Wow . . . amazing what discoveries you can make after being out in the woods with only your own great thoughts for more than a few hours!
Still running easy and comfortable, remembering the aid station that used to be on Greek Peak that was eliminated this year. I really would have liked to just see a face here; someone to talk to. Joe, Lorrie, and I manned that station during the night last year after I had run the 50. We had the place decorated in Halloween motif with eyeball lights lighting the trail. I envisioned how it must have been to come running through the woods at night to see those lights. Cool. But now it was barren.
As I came off of the highest point on Virgil Mountain I noticed some familiar pink ribbons on the trees. Wait . . . these were the markings that I had put out to mark the Monster Marathon course three weeks earlier! So I did a little trail clean-up and pulled the ribbons and kept on running. It was nice to have something new to think about while I ran.
Finally hit the last downhill before Tone Road. It may be downhill, but it is never easy to run this. It’s tricky and can be totally quad-crushing. I am thoroughly convinced that someday I will find a body in that old boiler on the trail! This section requires so much patience and paying attention to footing that I was so so glad when I finally hit the flat of Tone Road and could run mindlessly, even for a little bit.
LIFT HOUSE 5 LOOP: Joe and Karen were waiting for me when I ran up. Good to see those faces again. I was feeling really good, of course a little tired, but not bad. Still, I just wasn’t visualizing this as only a portion of the 100 miler. Where was my mojo? Hannah, who we had met at The Stone Cat trail race last year, where she was pacing a friend in his first 50 mile race, was at the aid station. She just has so much energy and excitement and just loves being out there. This additional boost of energy was so welcome. I rested a minute, ate a bit, filled my bottles, and prepared for the loop. Man, I hoped it would be easier going the opposite direction. And at first it was. This was not long-lasted as the climb turned steep, then steeper, then never-ending. All I could think was thank goodness the ground was dry – if there had been any rain this mountain would have turned into grease. And what? There was Ed behind me again. I may have been running alone for a while but I always knew he was somewhere back there and I knew that he would come back at me.
I was so grateful when I reached the last summit and could see the final downhill. Not only was I on the ski hill, but to some degree I actually felt like I was skiing. It was much easier on the quads to slalom side-to-side on the trail rather than just bomb straight down. However, hidden muscles were letting me know they weren’t happy! The sun was still out and these steep climbs had gotten me sweating all over again. I so wanted to just lie on my side and roll down that final hill like we all did when we were kids! By the time I reached the bottom I was just mentally drained and feeling a bit chilled from my wet shirt. I wanted hot food! And there it was – piping hot quesadillas! I worried for a minute when I saw that they were filled with beans and corn, wondering how this would set with my stomach. But my hunger overtook my brain and I scarfed down one . . . and another . . . and another. Man, were they excellent! Bottles filled, dry clothes on, it was time to get this loop done. I walked a bit down the road and was finally able to pick-up a slow run until I hit Carson Road and the power-hike took over.
About half-way up Carson I met Angus as he was heading out on his second trip. He looked really strong and at ease and there wasn’t a soul near him. I was certain that, barring something horrendous, he would win the 100.
The wind picked-up and I was glad to have my long sleeve shirt on. I started running again. And then, out of nowhere, BAM! It just hit me, I just wasn’t having fun. I wanted to just finish.
GRAVEL PIT: I came out into the gravel pit station and there were just a lot of people hanging out and having fun. I wanted to have fun and I wasn’t. Joe came over and the tears just started flowing. I hoped that he and Karen would have some magic to make things better. I didn’t know what it was; I still felt fuelled, my mind was clear, my feet ached but not bad, and there really wasn’t anything wrong with me. I thought some hot food might fix things but unfortunately the propane had run out at this station and although they were working on changing it, there was no hot food waiting for me. I just sat there on a log waiting and crying. And then Joel and Scott and their gang showed up at the station. Joel and Scott had both finished the 50; they both ran strong, hard races and could now relax and enjoy. I so wanted to be them. Then I started to get chilled and decided that I would just have to get going and get hot food later. Karen brought me a cold potato, but just touching it and the thought of putting that into my mouth . . . I just couldn’t do it. So I downed my old friend tapioca, put a light jacket on, turned the headlamp on, and headed out.
I always say that I am mentally stronger when I run alone. Well, at this stage of the game that mental “toughness” takes on a whole new meaning. My mind is very convincing to me no matter what I am thinking. And I was thinking that I really wasn’t having fun. It just never clicked today. I should have stuck with my original idea to run the 50. And then it really hit me . . . I really enjoy running 50 miles, I like the long run and the time in the woods and the feeling of accomplishment once it's done. But what I really love about ultras and the ultrarunning community is the whole spirit of hanging out after the run, comparing war stories and relaxing with a good brew. Right now I am not a 100-miler. So why can’t I stop signing up for them? Why can’t I resist the temptation? Still, I remained open-minded that maybe my mind would turn around when I got to Joe and Karen and things would change. Once on the dirt road approaching the return to the Hope Lake loop, I caught-up to a woman who was running her first 50-miler. She was happy. She was hurting a bit but she was succeeding. We talked for a bit and I just kept thinking how I wanted to be at the finish, done for myself but able to cheer others in. My decision was made; would my crew go along with it?
I made it back to the start/finish area and was greeted by Joe with a big hug and Karen and a woman manning the area who asked if I was done or going on. I just looked at Joe and Karen and we walked into the pavilion to sit and talk and see where our minds were. I explained all of my thoughts to them. I was still mentally strong, fuelled, not really hurting, but I really did not want to go on. I just wasn’t feeling the love of the trail anymore and hadn’t really all day. It was a day of intense like, but not love. Karen was super; she put on the true pacer-face and asked me all the right questions, which made me really realize that my decision was the right one. Today I was not a 100-miler and I don’t know if I ever really will be. It’s time to face that. And I am OK with that. 50 miles is a good distance. Hell, 100K is a great challenge for me . . . if I could only find one close to home. All I know is that once I made the decision to stop, cracked open the growler of Hop Warrior IPA and shared it with some friends, I immediately felt at home. It was time to celebrate, not feel bad for not finishing what I had intended to do. Maybe someday I will try a 100 miler again. It’s all in the company you hang out with and when I get around those 100 milers . . . well, you see what happens. But for now, I will try to fight the temptation. I have agreed to not just spontaneously sign-up for a 100; I will discuss it with Joe first. Joe, in turn, will not let me sign-up. Not now. I still want to run long but I want to finish with that feeling of accomplishment while being done in time to party a little and celebrate with friends.
Thank you to Ian and all of the volunteers for a truly
challenging day. I apologize to anyone who was subjected to my stream of f-bombs at the end of the second Lift House loop. Thank you Joe and Karen for supporting me throughout and supporting my decision . . . I am so glad to have you both there to keep me straight and I know you will do your best to help me keep my promise.
So it’s time to bring-on the Stone Cat and push my limits. It’s time to hit the trails and celebrate; I have to finish before the keg gets emptied!
"I began to learn while very young, and grew up practicing it. Now I am certain of success. I go down with the water and come up with the water. I follow it and forget myself. I survive because I don't struggle against the water's superior power. That's all." - The Tao Of Pooh
THE HISTORY: I have had four 100-mile run attempts with the following results: two voluntary drops, both after running more than 80 miles, one finish (WOO HOO!!), and one DNF due to not making the time cut-off. The record: 100 milers – 3, me – 1. Still feeling like I had it in me to level the score, it was time to tackle another. Enter Virgil Crest 100. Would I ever learn?
After my attempt at the Massanutten Mountain 100-miler in May and ultimately being “timed-out” by cut-offs after 28 ½ hours and 76 miles of “running”, I swore I wouldn’t do it again. No more 100 milers right now. I have always said that 50 miles is a good distance; it’s hard, you know you have done something, but you’re not totally wasted after. 50 miles is fun and I like fun. My attempts at running 100 miles, even my one successful finish, left me tired and took time to mentally and physically recover. I love the races; they are celebrations with friends and the trails, but I also want to be able to get right back at it afterward. Thinking about it now, it took too long to “get back at it” after each 100 attempt. But unfortunately, as I said in my MMT report, the body forgives what the mind forgets. Apparently I have a very forgiving body and a very short memory.
Shortly after MMT I decided to register for the Virgil Crest 50-miler. I had done it last year and had an absolute blast at it. It’s my home-course, it’s comfortable, and I feel very content on these trails. I always know where I am. But then something happened. I started to get that antsy feeling, reading race reports, talking with others who ran Vermont 100 and Burning River 100 and the excitement just took me over. I started logging the miles again and felt confident that this time I could do it. And what better place to do it than on my own turf, the trails that love me and I love them. It would be perfect. I know my limits; I had no intention of even thinking that I would win or even be under 24 hours, but I knew that, as it is written in The Alchemist, “When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you achieve it." Yes, this time it would happen. So onto my e-mail I went, asking Ian to switch me over to the 100 and quickly writing the check to seal the deal.
I couldn’t wait for race weekend to get here. I had my loving Joe-crew and my pacer, Karen. They know me well, my strengths and my weaknesses and what needs to be done to get the job done. This year I decided to forego the camping at the race site and get some good zzzz’s in my own bed. Living only 45 minutes from the start, I decided that it would better serve me to get up a few minutes earlier, loosen-up with a hot shower, and enjoy some hot coffee while taking time to wake up on the drive to Virgil.
RACE DAY: I wasn’t nervous and actually felt very at ease, arriving at the start with about 30 minutes to spare. I started off carrying a bottle of just water with a NUUN tab in it, trying to get a little hydrated early on and knowing that after just eating breakfast I couldn’t stomach any Accelerade right away. I would get a bottle of Accelerade at the first aid station, 5.4 miles away, from Joe.
GRAVEL PIT: It was actually a bit more humid than I would have liked at the start, but there was a bit of a breeze and I only hoped that it would cool down a bit more. For me, the colder, the better. I felt very at ease running the first section; my stomach started growling a bit and I was looking forward to filling it with some Accelerade soon. And then I got to the Gravel Pit station and saw Joe . . . empty-handed. He had to park more than ½ mile away from the station and hadn’t brought the bottle. In the heat of the moment of hunger, a moment of crankiness took over and then I finally succumbed to the fact that I would just have to deal with it. So I filled my bottle with Gatorade (which is normally OK, but, ummmm, it was the one flavor that I just really don’t like . . . orange). Oh well, I knew that I soon would have my pretty blue Accelerade and tried to give myself an attitude adjustment, which happened pretty soon, and then I just felt bad for my crankiness and just had to run it out of me.
The trails were in superb condition, the sun was out, but I just wasn’t yet feeling like I was in a 100 mile run. I have had this happen before and it always passes, so I wasn’t too worried. I finally found my running groove somewhere in the woods and started to feel better. I came out onto Carson Road and there was Joe and it was good to see that I hadn’t offended him to the point of abandonment. This was a huge mental boost and I apologized for my crankiness. I met up with Ed Edington and we ran down Carson Road. Ed does a great deal with helping out with this race, the website, and training runs on the course and it was good to get a little insight from him.
LIFT HOUSE 5 LOOP: I knew that this was full of steep climbs, so I tightened my shoelaces, grabbed my bottle of Acclerade, stuffed something into my mouth to chew on and headed out. The sun was out, which I feared when I realized the change in timing of this loop. Last year we ran this loop first and it wasn’t bad getting it done before the sun came out. I definitely felt the heat of the sun, even with the cooler temps, this time. The loop started out familiar and then . . . WHAM! The beginning of several steep climbs. I slalomed my way up and down the steep sections, however, on one of the shorter steeper climbs to the top lifthouse I felt a sharp tearing/burning feeling in my right calf. I immediately stopped, hoping that I had not done any major damage. After a minute of resting I resumed the climb in sort-of duck-walk-like fashion. It wasn’t pretty but I made it to the top without anymore calf pain. I so wanted to just tear-up the downhill back to the aid station but I knew this would spell disaster, tearing up the quads too early, so I just slalomed down as easy as I could. OK, six miles to go until the next aid station, so I filled two bottles to get me there, grabbed some tapioca pudding that Joe supplied, some skittles, and headed off. I know this section well. So far, so good.
LIFT HOUSE 5 TO ROCK PILE: Now it just felt like I was back in the Monster Marathon. I just couldn’t get myself into the 100-mile groove. It was a bit disturbing how I had thought that knowing the trails would be to my benefit when all I could think about as I climbed Virgil Mountain was that I was on “The Monster course” and when I crossed over to Greek Peak it was now “The Frolics course”. I wasn’t at the Virgil Crest 100 yet. The run to the rock pile was nice, as I ran with and chatted with Ed, playing leap frog almost the entire way. Knowing that Ed had completed the 100 here before and that he had been training out on the course, I was confident that the pace was good and felt comfortable and happy to run and chat with him.
ROCK PILE: Still felt good. Joe had hiked up to the rock pile and was there to refill my bottles and feed me with tapioca pudding and rice krispie treats. Yummmmm. I can’t say enough about tapioca pudding. It just goes down so easy and digests nicely. This item is definitely an ultra-fuel keeper. Refilled and refueled, nothing hurting at this point, Ed and I headed off for Daisy Hollow together.
ROCK PILE TO DAISY HOLLOW: I love this section. There are some tough climbs, but once you hit the sweet single track on the other side of Babcock Hollow Road, you’re in heaven. What?! Those dogs out on Babcock Hollow Road are still alive after all these years?! Running comfortably but still not in my 100 groove, I was brought back to the days of running the “Mountain Madness”. Was I ever going to feel like this was the 100 mile race that I wanted so badly to be in?
I had been running with Ed pretty consistently since leaving the rock pile and it was really nice. And comfortable. But I just wasn’t finding my groove. Finally I realized that I was just getting lazy, letting my run be dictated by another – not that Ed was running a bad pace or anything, but if he walked, I walked, and there were sections where I just needed to kick myself into gear. So I finally put my mind to it and found some groove and flow energy. I am much mentally tougher when I am on my own and I just needed to find that toughness. The 100-mile and 50-mile leaders had already passed me way before I even crossed Babcock Hollow road, along with several others, but now I finally hit the mother load heading back. It was really nice to see everyone and exchange good wishes.
DAISY HOLLOW: I had heard there was hot soup and potatoes out here and was really looking forward to lunch. I never miss a meal during an ultra, always taking the time to really enjoy the “real food” aid station fare. Joe was waiting for me and refilled my bottles as I enjoyed two cups of chicken soup. The hot buttery potatoes looked really excellent and I really wanted them, but the soup pretty much filled me up and I didn’t want to overdo it. As I prepared to leave Daisy Hollow Ed showed up, looking strong. I knew that he would catch me again; we played the game this far and I knew how it went. Time to head back and do it again.
ROCK PILE: I had run from Daisy Hollow to here all by myself, feeling like I was starting to find myself, but still not yet feeling like I was in a 100. WTF?! By the time I got back to this station I was soooo hungry again. And there was my tapioca pudding – my not-so-secret love, just waiting for me – with Joe and Karen, of course! I was ready for something hot and solid to eat and heard that pizza was on its way to the aid station. I really just wanted to hang out and wait for it, but after realizing that was not a reasonable idea, I headed out. My feet still felt really good (not having any of the usual “burning” that I get) and my legs felt great. I was staying hydrated and fuelled and mentally felt strong. Why didn’t I feel yet like I was at the VC100? Probably because I was back in Monster Marathon mode, just a short run to its finish, when in reality, I was nowhere near the finish.
Back down to the creek crossing . . . I remember the days when this creek would be anywhere from ankle to mid-calf deep and now it just has spurs of water that I could easily step over. When I got to the other side of the stream I realized that I hadn’t sat down since the ride to the race that morning. It was time for a brief rest, so I sat down on a tree root that circled out from the ground and had a revelation. Nature’s toilet! Truly, by the rules of trail running and hiking, this was not the place that one should relieve themselves, but it really did feel like sitting on a toilet! Now, I didn't use "the toilet" . . . but look at what I discovered! Wow . . . amazing what discoveries you can make after being out in the woods with only your own great thoughts for more than a few hours!
Still running easy and comfortable, remembering the aid station that used to be on Greek Peak that was eliminated this year. I really would have liked to just see a face here; someone to talk to. Joe, Lorrie, and I manned that station during the night last year after I had run the 50. We had the place decorated in Halloween motif with eyeball lights lighting the trail. I envisioned how it must have been to come running through the woods at night to see those lights. Cool. But now it was barren.
As I came off of the highest point on Virgil Mountain I noticed some familiar pink ribbons on the trees. Wait . . . these were the markings that I had put out to mark the Monster Marathon course three weeks earlier! So I did a little trail clean-up and pulled the ribbons and kept on running. It was nice to have something new to think about while I ran.
Finally hit the last downhill before Tone Road. It may be downhill, but it is never easy to run this. It’s tricky and can be totally quad-crushing. I am thoroughly convinced that someday I will find a body in that old boiler on the trail! This section requires so much patience and paying attention to footing that I was so so glad when I finally hit the flat of Tone Road and could run mindlessly, even for a little bit.
LIFT HOUSE 5 LOOP: Joe and Karen were waiting for me when I ran up. Good to see those faces again. I was feeling really good, of course a little tired, but not bad. Still, I just wasn’t visualizing this as only a portion of the 100 miler. Where was my mojo? Hannah, who we had met at The Stone Cat trail race last year, where she was pacing a friend in his first 50 mile race, was at the aid station. She just has so much energy and excitement and just loves being out there. This additional boost of energy was so welcome. I rested a minute, ate a bit, filled my bottles, and prepared for the loop. Man, I hoped it would be easier going the opposite direction. And at first it was. This was not long-lasted as the climb turned steep, then steeper, then never-ending. All I could think was thank goodness the ground was dry – if there had been any rain this mountain would have turned into grease. And what? There was Ed behind me again. I may have been running alone for a while but I always knew he was somewhere back there and I knew that he would come back at me.
I was so grateful when I reached the last summit and could see the final downhill. Not only was I on the ski hill, but to some degree I actually felt like I was skiing. It was much easier on the quads to slalom side-to-side on the trail rather than just bomb straight down. However, hidden muscles were letting me know they weren’t happy! The sun was still out and these steep climbs had gotten me sweating all over again. I so wanted to just lie on my side and roll down that final hill like we all did when we were kids! By the time I reached the bottom I was just mentally drained and feeling a bit chilled from my wet shirt. I wanted hot food! And there it was – piping hot quesadillas! I worried for a minute when I saw that they were filled with beans and corn, wondering how this would set with my stomach. But my hunger overtook my brain and I scarfed down one . . . and another . . . and another. Man, were they excellent! Bottles filled, dry clothes on, it was time to get this loop done. I walked a bit down the road and was finally able to pick-up a slow run until I hit Carson Road and the power-hike took over.
About half-way up Carson I met Angus as he was heading out on his second trip. He looked really strong and at ease and there wasn’t a soul near him. I was certain that, barring something horrendous, he would win the 100.
The wind picked-up and I was glad to have my long sleeve shirt on. I started running again. And then, out of nowhere, BAM! It just hit me, I just wasn’t having fun. I wanted to just finish.
GRAVEL PIT: I came out into the gravel pit station and there were just a lot of people hanging out and having fun. I wanted to have fun and I wasn’t. Joe came over and the tears just started flowing. I hoped that he and Karen would have some magic to make things better. I didn’t know what it was; I still felt fuelled, my mind was clear, my feet ached but not bad, and there really wasn’t anything wrong with me. I thought some hot food might fix things but unfortunately the propane had run out at this station and although they were working on changing it, there was no hot food waiting for me. I just sat there on a log waiting and crying. And then Joel and Scott and their gang showed up at the station. Joel and Scott had both finished the 50; they both ran strong, hard races and could now relax and enjoy. I so wanted to be them. Then I started to get chilled and decided that I would just have to get going and get hot food later. Karen brought me a cold potato, but just touching it and the thought of putting that into my mouth . . . I just couldn’t do it. So I downed my old friend tapioca, put a light jacket on, turned the headlamp on, and headed out.
I always say that I am mentally stronger when I run alone. Well, at this stage of the game that mental “toughness” takes on a whole new meaning. My mind is very convincing to me no matter what I am thinking. And I was thinking that I really wasn’t having fun. It just never clicked today. I should have stuck with my original idea to run the 50. And then it really hit me . . . I really enjoy running 50 miles, I like the long run and the time in the woods and the feeling of accomplishment once it's done. But what I really love about ultras and the ultrarunning community is the whole spirit of hanging out after the run, comparing war stories and relaxing with a good brew. Right now I am not a 100-miler. So why can’t I stop signing up for them? Why can’t I resist the temptation? Still, I remained open-minded that maybe my mind would turn around when I got to Joe and Karen and things would change. Once on the dirt road approaching the return to the Hope Lake loop, I caught-up to a woman who was running her first 50-miler. She was happy. She was hurting a bit but she was succeeding. We talked for a bit and I just kept thinking how I wanted to be at the finish, done for myself but able to cheer others in. My decision was made; would my crew go along with it?
I made it back to the start/finish area and was greeted by Joe with a big hug and Karen and a woman manning the area who asked if I was done or going on. I just looked at Joe and Karen and we walked into the pavilion to sit and talk and see where our minds were. I explained all of my thoughts to them. I was still mentally strong, fuelled, not really hurting, but I really did not want to go on. I just wasn’t feeling the love of the trail anymore and hadn’t really all day. It was a day of intense like, but not love. Karen was super; she put on the true pacer-face and asked me all the right questions, which made me really realize that my decision was the right one. Today I was not a 100-miler and I don’t know if I ever really will be. It’s time to face that. And I am OK with that. 50 miles is a good distance. Hell, 100K is a great challenge for me . . . if I could only find one close to home. All I know is that once I made the decision to stop, cracked open the growler of Hop Warrior IPA and shared it with some friends, I immediately felt at home. It was time to celebrate, not feel bad for not finishing what I had intended to do. Maybe someday I will try a 100 miler again. It’s all in the company you hang out with and when I get around those 100 milers . . . well, you see what happens. But for now, I will try to fight the temptation. I have agreed to not just spontaneously sign-up for a 100; I will discuss it with Joe first. Joe, in turn, will not let me sign-up. Not now. I still want to run long but I want to finish with that feeling of accomplishment while being done in time to party a little and celebrate with friends.
Thank you to Ian and all of the volunteers for a truly
challenging day. I apologize to anyone who was subjected to my stream of f-bombs at the end of the second Lift House loop. Thank you Joe and Karen for supporting me throughout and supporting my decision . . . I am so glad to have you both there to keep me straight and I know you will do your best to help me keep my promise.So it’s time to bring-on the Stone Cat and push my limits. It’s time to hit the trails and celebrate; I have to finish before the keg gets emptied!
"I began to learn while very young, and grew up practicing it. Now I am certain of success. I go down with the water and come up with the water. I follow it and forget myself. I survive because I don't struggle against the water's superior power. That's all." - The Tao Of Pooh
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
It's All About The Patch
"When you want something, all the universe conspires to help you achieve it."
- The Alchemist
OK, it's been a bit over a week since the Green Lakes 100K so I guess it's time to put my thoughts together and analyze what this run really was for me. First of all, this was my first ever 100K race. I have numerous times run this distance and further, but this was actually the first time that I covered this distance knowing that 62 miles was to be the end point. It was kinda cool knowing that I have gone this distance before, feeling good throughout, so I should be able to complete the distance without too much of a problem. But there are no guarantees with ultrarunning; I also knew that this particular race would be a huge mental game for me. The course is a 7.7-ish mile loop, repeated eight times. Loop courses are always difficult for me because when the going gets tough, it's way too easy to say I can't go on. So knowing this, I was prepared for the mind games, and had already mentally prepared for loops 5, 6, and 7 to be the challenge.
So here's skinny on how the race went down . . .
- 41 starters toed the line for the 6am start. It was a cool morning but the forecast was ominous with a prediction of sun and temps in the high 80s to 90s. Hydration and electrolyte replacement were going to be crucial to survival.
- Loop 1: 1:19:09. Time to savor the cool dawn sky. My plan was to try to maintain 1:30 loops. Despite my time on this loop I did run conservatively and felt very at ease and didn't feel like I pushed to get under 1:30.
- Loop 2: 1:24:05. The sun started to come out but the temp was still comfortable. Took a little extra time getting some eats and refilling my bottle. Still felt at ease here.
- Loop 3: 1:33:17. Here come the 50K-ers. Nice to see more people out on the course and the speed of the front-runners. It was warming up at this point but I was still feeling good and taking in enough fluids to prep for the coming heat.
- Loop 4: 1:42.26. Hot now! I really tried to get some solid foods into me but the heat was already taking its toll and I just couldn't stomach anything solid. Thank goodness for the protein-carbo mix of Accelerade. It really kept me fuelled. However, I started to get this weird hot-spot feeling in the middle of my left foot which seemed to initially get better with a sock change. Never had that before.
- Loop 5: 1:50:48. OK, something's gotta give with this foot issue! At the lap area where all my med supplies were, I sat down, dried my foot, didn't see any blistering but noticed an area that could easily turn into a blister. Slapped on a piece of moleskin, got the sock and shoe back on, and felt instantly better. Now I only hoped that this would hold. The heat was also becoming more oppressive, so at the suggestion of Jill Perry who was working the aid area, I put a bandana filled with ice around my neck. Who knew how good this could feel? Amazing! I didn't think I would be able to tolerate the bandana on my neck, but the relief it brought to me was so amazing that I didn't even notice having it around my neck. This turned out to be a definite life-saver.
- Loop 6: 1:49:45. Walking a bit more now but still feeling in good spirits. Looking at the time I still felt that I was doing OK to make the cut-off (which was that you had to complete loop 7 by 12 hours). But mentally I was having issue with the I have to do this TWO MORE TIMES!
- Loop 7: 2:18:06. OK, now things were getting really mental. Not only did I wonder if I would be able to make that 12 hour cut-off but I was wondering if I really wanted to make it. By the time I hit the 3rd aid station, which was being manned by my friend Sam Pasceri and his family, I was near breaking down. I went into the station thanking Sam for all he did for all of us today and told him that I was done; I wasn't going to make the cut-off. Sam sat me down, fixed me another ice bandana, dosed me up with some Mountain Dew and a grilled cheese sandwich piece, and basically gave me a kick in the ass. He told me "It's all about the patch". The patch was the award for finishing and it was all about finishing, not about time, not about place. He told me that so many had dropped because of the heat. Finishing was about overcoming. Even his young son, Dominic, told me that all I had to do was 15-minute miles to make the cut-off. Those two were just so infectious and up-beat, how could I give up? I left his station telling him that I would see him again and tried running a little.
OK, so the run and the optimism lasted about 100 meters. What the hell? I couldn't do it. So I walked and thought about how I would break it to Sam that I just didn't make the cut-off . . . it wouldn't be my fault then that I didn't go on; it would be out of my hands.
And then I came into The Beach area, walking and looking at my watch. Damn! I still had more than 5 minutes to make the cut-off. And then I saw my grandkid cheering squad of Kaitlin, Cara, and Clare! Kaitlin told me that I could do it. Cara distracted me with talk about their day. I asked Clare if I should go out for the last loop and she told me no. I asked her why not and she told me that I might get hurt. Sounded reasonable. I came across the mat with less than 3 minutes to the cut-off, ready to call it quits. But my ever-loving honey, Joe, had other thoughts. He got permission from the race officials to go out with me, not to pace me but more to make sure that I got around safely - likely because my loop 7 time was so pitiful and everyone expected that loop 8 would be much longer. So I downed a 5-Hour Energy with caffeine and we left the area walking.
- Loop 8: 1:45:01. And then it happened. Somewhere around 40 minutes into the loop that 5-Hour Energy kicked in. I still couldn't stomach anything solid, but I was drinking and peeing and still moving. And then I was running (ok . . . it's all relative!) again. It was getting dusky out and the deer were coming out. We were alone up on The Serengeti and it was beautiful. And then we hit Sam's station. I was so psyched to see him and Dominic and Ginny again and the energy just kept coming. It was time to finish this puppy off.
Heading back down to the lower loop I started to get a bit queasy so I slowed the pace a bit, but once we hit the lower portion of the course I was back. And running . . . actually running. And I crossed the line in 13:42:40 . . . didn't fall once, still felt good and alert, moleskin on my foot intact, and oh-so-dirty-and-stinky! And I won the Female Masters RRCA Champ category (OK, so I was the only female masters that finished, but whatever!).
I was the last finisher but I have to say that this was a very cool place to be. Did you know that the cheers you receive as last finisher are probably just as loud as those for the first?! Very cool indeed. 18 people dropped from this race, so finishing to me, even last, was huge.
Once the going got really tough, I kept telling myself that I didn't need to suffer, that this race was a training run for the upcoming Virgil Crest 100, that any distance I completed would be a good training run. But finishing . . . I am so glad that I did . . . this gave me a huge confidence boost that I was able to overcome something so hard. Thank you to my cheering squad, to Joe and Sam and Ginny and the kids for the much-need ass-kickings, and to all of the volunteers who took care of us on this brutal day! These runs are never a one-person victory.
OK . . . kill the heat! I want a cool Fall day! And in less than three weeks there better be one . . . but if not, I feel more confident now that I can take it on. Cowgirl Up! Team Honey will take on VC100 next!
- The Alchemist
OK, it's been a bit over a week since the Green Lakes 100K so I guess it's time to put my thoughts together and analyze what this run really was for me. First of all, this was my first ever 100K race. I have numerous times run this distance and further, but this was actually the first time that I covered this distance knowing that 62 miles was to be the end point. It was kinda cool knowing that I have gone this distance before, feeling good throughout, so I should be able to complete the distance without too much of a problem. But there are no guarantees with ultrarunning; I also knew that this particular race would be a huge mental game for me. The course is a 7.7-ish mile loop, repeated eight times. Loop courses are always difficult for me because when the going gets tough, it's way too easy to say I can't go on. So knowing this, I was prepared for the mind games, and had already mentally prepared for loops 5, 6, and 7 to be the challenge.
So here's skinny on how the race went down . . .
- 41 starters toed the line for the 6am start. It was a cool morning but the forecast was ominous with a prediction of sun and temps in the high 80s to 90s. Hydration and electrolyte replacement were going to be crucial to survival.
- Loop 1: 1:19:09. Time to savor the cool dawn sky. My plan was to try to maintain 1:30 loops. Despite my time on this loop I did run conservatively and felt very at ease and didn't feel like I pushed to get under 1:30.
- Loop 2: 1:24:05. The sun started to come out but the temp was still comfortable. Took a little extra time getting some eats and refilling my bottle. Still felt at ease here.
- Loop 3: 1:33:17. Here come the 50K-ers. Nice to see more people out on the course and the speed of the front-runners. It was warming up at this point but I was still feeling good and taking in enough fluids to prep for the coming heat.
- Loop 4: 1:42.26. Hot now! I really tried to get some solid foods into me but the heat was already taking its toll and I just couldn't stomach anything solid. Thank goodness for the protein-carbo mix of Accelerade. It really kept me fuelled. However, I started to get this weird hot-spot feeling in the middle of my left foot which seemed to initially get better with a sock change. Never had that before.
- Loop 5: 1:50:48. OK, something's gotta give with this foot issue! At the lap area where all my med supplies were, I sat down, dried my foot, didn't see any blistering but noticed an area that could easily turn into a blister. Slapped on a piece of moleskin, got the sock and shoe back on, and felt instantly better. Now I only hoped that this would hold. The heat was also becoming more oppressive, so at the suggestion of Jill Perry who was working the aid area, I put a bandana filled with ice around my neck. Who knew how good this could feel? Amazing! I didn't think I would be able to tolerate the bandana on my neck, but the relief it brought to me was so amazing that I didn't even notice having it around my neck. This turned out to be a definite life-saver.
- Loop 6: 1:49:45. Walking a bit more now but still feeling in good spirits. Looking at the time I still felt that I was doing OK to make the cut-off (which was that you had to complete loop 7 by 12 hours). But mentally I was having issue with the I have to do this TWO MORE TIMES!
- Loop 7: 2:18:06. OK, now things were getting really mental. Not only did I wonder if I would be able to make that 12 hour cut-off but I was wondering if I really wanted to make it. By the time I hit the 3rd aid station, which was being manned by my friend Sam Pasceri and his family, I was near breaking down. I went into the station thanking Sam for all he did for all of us today and told him that I was done; I wasn't going to make the cut-off. Sam sat me down, fixed me another ice bandana, dosed me up with some Mountain Dew and a grilled cheese sandwich piece, and basically gave me a kick in the ass. He told me "It's all about the patch". The patch was the award for finishing and it was all about finishing, not about time, not about place. He told me that so many had dropped because of the heat. Finishing was about overcoming. Even his young son, Dominic, told me that all I had to do was 15-minute miles to make the cut-off. Those two were just so infectious and up-beat, how could I give up? I left his station telling him that I would see him again and tried running a little.
OK, so the run and the optimism lasted about 100 meters. What the hell? I couldn't do it. So I walked and thought about how I would break it to Sam that I just didn't make the cut-off . . . it wouldn't be my fault then that I didn't go on; it would be out of my hands.
And then I came into The Beach area, walking and looking at my watch. Damn! I still had more than 5 minutes to make the cut-off. And then I saw my grandkid cheering squad of Kaitlin, Cara, and Clare! Kaitlin told me that I could do it. Cara distracted me with talk about their day. I asked Clare if I should go out for the last loop and she told me no. I asked her why not and she told me that I might get hurt. Sounded reasonable. I came across the mat with less than 3 minutes to the cut-off, ready to call it quits. But my ever-loving honey, Joe, had other thoughts. He got permission from the race officials to go out with me, not to pace me but more to make sure that I got around safely - likely because my loop 7 time was so pitiful and everyone expected that loop 8 would be much longer. So I downed a 5-Hour Energy with caffeine and we left the area walking.
- Loop 8: 1:45:01. And then it happened. Somewhere around 40 minutes into the loop that 5-Hour Energy kicked in. I still couldn't stomach anything solid, but I was drinking and peeing and still moving. And then I was running (ok . . . it's all relative!) again. It was getting dusky out and the deer were coming out. We were alone up on The Serengeti and it was beautiful. And then we hit Sam's station. I was so psyched to see him and Dominic and Ginny again and the energy just kept coming. It was time to finish this puppy off.
Heading back down to the lower loop I started to get a bit queasy so I slowed the pace a bit, but once we hit the lower portion of the course I was back. And running . . . actually running. And I crossed the line in 13:42:40 . . . didn't fall once, still felt good and alert, moleskin on my foot intact, and oh-so-dirty-and-stinky! And I won the Female Masters RRCA Champ category (OK, so I was the only female masters that finished, but whatever!).
I was the last finisher but I have to say that this was a very cool place to be. Did you know that the cheers you receive as last finisher are probably just as loud as those for the first?! Very cool indeed. 18 people dropped from this race, so finishing to me, even last, was huge.
Once the going got really tough, I kept telling myself that I didn't need to suffer, that this race was a training run for the upcoming Virgil Crest 100, that any distance I completed would be a good training run. But finishing . . . I am so glad that I did . . . this gave me a huge confidence boost that I was able to overcome something so hard. Thank you to my cheering squad, to Joe and Sam and Ginny and the kids for the much-need ass-kickings, and to all of the volunteers who took care of us on this brutal day! These runs are never a one-person victory.
OK . . . kill the heat! I want a cool Fall day! And in less than three weeks there better be one . . . but if not, I feel more confident now that I can take it on. Cowgirl Up! Team Honey will take on VC100 next!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Getting Younger With Every Mile
It all started in February 2010 . . . The Beast Of Burden. What a name . . . what a challenge. The winter version was huge fun for me as I ran in the 24-hour race and Joe supported me along the way. Joe has always supported me in my craziness of running long distances. Thank goodness that the BOB race director, Sam Pasceri, decided to bring The Beast to another season . . . the heat of the summer. And thank goodness I had absolutely no desire to run in the open sun and heat and humidity along the Erie Canal towpath. So not my thing. So this opened up a whole new opportunity.
Joe’s longest run ever has been 35.75 miles, which he ran at the BPAC 6-hour Distance Classic a couple of years ago. Since then he has run some 50Ks, but nothing longer. The Summer Beast Of Burden 24-hour event would give him the chance to see just how far he could go; a chance to challenge his limits. And it would give me the chance to give back to him for all of the times that he has been up all night long supporting me. I would now get the chance to be crew and pacer all in one and experience what he and others so generously do for me.
A 24-hour race is a different animal. It’s a combination of things; it’s not just who can run the fastest but who can play the game the smartest to endure. Yes, speed is a factor but if you don’t take care of yourself with proper fuelling and clothing choices, the game can end early. Some plan to run a certain distance and that’s that, finishing whenever they do within the 24-hour period. Some run the entire 24 hours to see how many miles they can log in that period of time. Joe opted for the first, choosing the number 66 miles; a mile for each year of his life. A challenge, in deed, but very doable, I was sure. All he had to do was to keep moving at a consistent 2.5 miles per hour for the 24 hours and he would be fine. Of course, I was sure that he could get ‘er done well before the 24 hours were up. So training started; we worked on the miles but more so we worked on the eating and hydration aspects that would keep him going for the long haul. This has always been one of Joe’s downfalls in the long run – making sure he stays fuelled. But we found a solution and I have just two words to say – TAPIOCA PUDDING. Believe it, there is nothing better than ice cold tapioca pudding that just slides down and digests easily when your body just doesn’t want to even do the work of chewing and swallowing. And we went through quite a bit of it last weekend.
So here’s the run-down of how the day (and night) went:
- Saturday: cool, overcast morning. We set up our canopy with chair and cot for resting when the work was done and a cooler with our special fuels.
- At 10AM the runners were off. My first feeling was that of relaxation because I wasn’t running, then big-time nerves set-in, hoping that Joe was doing what he was supposed to do. It was out of my hands; all I could do was wait.
- Seeing Joe, approximately 2 miles into the run, on the other side of the Erie Canal, running with others and talking. I hoped that he was not going outside of his comfort zone.
- Got our “transition zone” in Lockport set-up with Joe’s clothes, food, and drink, and then headed off to Middleport (the turn-around point) at 12.5 miles. I knew I was well ahead of the time he would get out there, but I didn’t know what else to do with myself other than go and wait for him and run through my mind if I had everything in the proper places for him.
- I had hoped that Joe would take about 3 hours to relaxingly get out to Middleport on that first trip and was a bit concerned when he arrived under 2 hours, 30 minutes. He assured me that he felt fine and that the overcast weather helped him to get there faster. I refilled his bottles and got him to eat a bit and he was off again. Did he eat enough? Should I have done something else for him? Did I do everything that I was supposed to do? Man, I think that actually running in the race is easier!
- Watched some others runners come through and then couldn’t stand it any longer, so I headed off to the grocery store to grab a few things for my lunch, more ice, and a bit more Gatorade for Joe. Back to Lockport to eat lunch and talk with friends while I hoped that Joe had slowed the pace a bit.
- Watching my watch and anticipating about when Joe might arrive at 25 miles, I got my clothes changed to my running gear to prepare to jump into my alter ego as pacer.
- Joe arrived in Lockport looking good and running with a couple of other guys, which he really seemed to enjoy their company and didn’t seem to be getting “pulled into their pace”. So we all grabbed some food and posed for photos and prepared to head out for the second loop. Spirits seemed very good in all three guys.
- We ran Joe’s pace, running at times, walking at times. It was all good as long as we were moving forward - and we were. What started off on this loop as me, Joe, Joe, and Jim was soon down to me, Joe, and Jim, and then as nature called as well as the need to loosen shoelaces on swollen feet, Jim moved on and it was just Joe and me. Moving along steady. Still good.
- Turn-around in Middleport went well. Joe went on to cross the timing mats while I refilled the bottles. Some pizza and Little Debbie’s later and we went on to the tent where the drop-bags were and I cleaned Joe’s feet and changed his socks. The feet looked great; no problem areas noted. I told him that the plan was to powder the feet and change socks again when we arrived back in Lockport. Some tapioca pudding, Ithaca Ginger Beer, and we were off again.
- A couple of miles before reaching the Lockport station again my cell phone rang. Lorrie was calling to find out how Joe was doing and I filled her in on everything. Things were looking great and Joe was about to complete his first 50-miler! It had finally started to lightly rain and the humidity was lessening. Things were looking good.
- Into the tent I went to refill the bottles and change my clothes while Joe crossed the timing mat (completing his first 50-miler in 12 hours, 3 minutes) and then changed his clothes. The plan was for me to check Joe’s feet here, powder them and change his socks. He wouldn’t let me do this; he just said he was fine. Knowing that I wouldn’t change his mind and hoping that he was right, I let it go. Pick your battles. Still lightly raining I discussed wearing jackets with Joe. Again, he assured me that he was warm enough and was fine. He seemed to know very well how he was doing and that made me feel better and off we went again – without jackets.
- Frogs – everywhere. Huge frogs whose eyes kept glowing in the light of my headlamp. I was glad to be able to see them because I was sure that stepping on one would make a huge squishy mess that would send either of us flailing into the canal. The rain picked up a bit but we were walking at a good clip right now with plenty of time in the bank to cover the desired distance.
- And then it happened . . . it started pouring rain. And the wind picked up. I had change of clothes and rain ponchos for us at the turn-around in Middleport, but it was getting to them that would be the challenge. And Joe’s feet were really hurting at this point. I feared that we were not moving fast enough to avoid hypothermia. We pulled into the Gasport aid station and after 14 hours, 27 minutes, and change, and it was good enough – a huge, huge accomplishment. The pride that I felt for my husband at this time was just so overwhelming that I was nearly in tears. How does he do it for me over and over again?
- So Honey, you wanted to run a mile for every year of your age? You covered 57 miles. So guess what? You’re 57 years old again! How’s that for a milestone!!
Thank you so much to Sam, Dani, Jen, Ginny, Nancy, Sam’s Mom & Dad, and all the other volunteers whose names I didn’t know! You guys rock! And thank you for the opportunity for me to help Joe do something that he has never done before – and now I know what agony he must go through worrying about me! Joe is now walking normally and able to get up off the couch without too much of a grunt. The blisters (one, I swear, looked like a sixth toe!) I had the pleasure of popping and dressing. And who knew that toenails could look like that? Eeewwwwwwwwwww. (Did I ever mention that the only things that really make me wretch other than earwax is toe-jam and really
gnarly toenails?). Love will make you do all sorts of crazy things. And now I really realize how hard it is to help someone you love keep going when the going gets tough. I have to say that this is my most rewarding ultra ever. Thank you and congratulations, Honey. I love you.“A lot of people run a race to see who’s the fastest. I run to see who has the most guts.” - Steve Prefontaine
Sunday, August 8, 2010
And A New Brew Is Discovered . . .
One other great find on the rugby adventure last weekend . . . a new brew! Lake Placid craft brew 46'er Pale Ale. A rich copper pale ale with tons of flavor. Check it out, all you brew fans!
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