tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58661006912360223852024-02-22T08:23:03.084-08:00Running AddictionAmy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-33431571681193169022024-02-19T08:26:00.000-08:002024-02-19T08:32:26.170-08:00Vegas Baby… Jackpot USATF National Championship 2024<p> It’s been a while since I’ve set a goal for myself at 100
mile race. Sometime in 2023, after
returning from the 48 hour World Championship race, where my performance was
distinctly mediocre, I found myself frustrated with my running and appalled at
how my speed (never my strong point) had deteriorated to something that just
didn’t feel like running. The
deterioration had been steady over the past few years, and I’ve attributed it
to being a post-menopausal woman. I also
was somewhat resigned that my best running was behind me, and that there was nothing that I could do about it.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Still…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my endurance
was still good, I could still pull off second place finishes in
multi-days, and with a more balanced approach to running and a move to Seattle
where I regularly get to run with a bunch of crazies (the BIRCS – Bad Influence
Running Club), my joy quotient has improved recently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was somewhere in the last quarter of 2023
that I decided I’d see if there was something I could do about the
deterioration. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I got a coach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Shannon McGinn, of Creating Momentum coaching, had previously coached me
during my best running years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that
point, however, she refused to give me a plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Rather, she let me guide my own training, knowing that I’d probably
ignore much of what she said, preferring to just run big weekly miles. And for
a long time, that worked.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Until it didn’t.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I needed a change.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So this time around, I told her I needed not just a sounding
board and a nutrition/life coach, but I needed a plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that is just what she gave me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Starting sometime in early November, I started building in two structured speed workouts a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which
was two more than I had been doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike
any efforts I’d done on my own or following what works for friends, Shannon’s approach was
perfect because it eased me into speedwork in a way that felt achievable and
comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of dreading speed
workouts, I looked forward to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
also made the runs in between more enjoyable because I could just relax. I'm also doing strength and flexibility as well as plyometrics.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My first chance to see what this approach yielded was at ATY
over New Years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During 2023, the best 48
hour performance I’d pulled off was 150 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was not just a speed issue--it also had to do with goal setting
and motivation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My goals were probably
unrealistic, and my motivation was decidedly absent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I’d go into a 48 hour race with a goal of
190, and when it started to slip through my fingers, I really had no other
significant goals that felt meaningful. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also,
I found that my “all day” pace was no longer sustainable “all day”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There would come a point when I could no
longer comfortably do the alternating jog walk that has served me so well for
so long...I'd start to feel gassed, like I just couldn't get enough energy every time I'd start to run.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At ATY, both of those things changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, I set a goal that I knew was both a
push, but achievable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Secondly, I saw a
profound difference in my endurance after doing all the speedwork.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t “faster” per se at ATY – however, I
could keep the same pace up for significantly longer without ever feeling like
I was flagging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I comfortably hit my 170, my biggest 48 in almost two years, and came away from that race feeling (finally) that things might be turning
around.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Going into Jackpot, my friend John said “what are your
goals?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Goals?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For 100?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Huh?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Because hundreds are not a race where I tend to be competitive, I have just not really set goals recently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Rather, I’ve run to comfort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Generally I can come in right around 24 hours, but it’s been a few years since
I’ve been much faster than that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But, at ATY, I’d seen the difference it made in my
performance just having a solid goal to work for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I set my Jackpot goal at 22 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d certainly achieved that (and better)
previously; my 100 mile PR is 20:20.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
again, it’s been years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The weather this year at Jackpot looked ideal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not too hot during the day, with some light cloud cover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Night time temps looked to
be high forties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really couldn’t have
been any better.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I arrived in town Thursday and immediately met up with Jaide
Downs—my partner in crime last year at Jackpot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We stayed on the strip and had a great meal and a wicked roller coaster ride at New York New York Thursday night and headed
over to the race venue well fed and well rested on Friday morning.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kUG8SrMsyD_sje4nRSBX6dKmjW0t6SU8shkQjo-z-yEOGYYqm6m903CWaRh4hYyJe9EXZkYAg37pYWx8Ddu64-Qv14RwVMJqCoUzKHyw81Pt-sysBfpXhcC8cWk4SN-3nwBBo9NlO6pWJingtZddAbpkp3WNvUJI-2xR24R2FkAE9WYGFxEbwi3K0w/s4000/20240215_163004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kUG8SrMsyD_sje4nRSBX6dKmjW0t6SU8shkQjo-z-yEOGYYqm6m903CWaRh4hYyJe9EXZkYAg37pYWx8Ddu64-Qv14RwVMJqCoUzKHyw81Pt-sysBfpXhcC8cWk4SN-3nwBBo9NlO6pWJingtZddAbpkp3WNvUJI-2xR24R2FkAE9WYGFxEbwi3K0w/s320/20240215_163004.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre race shenanigans</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpm_RSCmPWMWjrmKOZLSMm4Z1QZSA4pD8fdWD_qc1DMqY9aCc93Y2Jth13Qkq588g657Z-cgnZvAUGUQ6Fw5YJ-YZytAhevxush92Wynv9qubZP3WyWNq1SOW_PJZVtZLVLbFsxlGMV6fT3q6Yiq_h6c6xgMTioe_dAjTH54m0Z0_O_KTrXlqUAkq5nw/s4624/20240215_162906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpm_RSCmPWMWjrmKOZLSMm4Z1QZSA4pD8fdWD_qc1DMqY9aCc93Y2Jth13Qkq588g657Z-cgnZvAUGUQ6Fw5YJ-YZytAhevxush92Wynv9qubZP3WyWNq1SOW_PJZVtZLVLbFsxlGMV6fT3q6Yiq_h6c6xgMTioe_dAjTH54m0Z0_O_KTrXlqUAkq5nw/s320/20240215_162906.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look close you can see the roller coaster</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><o:p></o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGUBhapAvAxU1Fzq_la2IGDDTd_fZm6Wfpmcw3n25QpXNTUTZTnpM0jlVLasqdGLcYVQd5GfgSfIvgLvEA516dXbZShZPSLOodg70lsPpNgaUVOmlMniqU357Lcnajy0Gyx7SgwU1hJgpGjTGzRJM6ov4C7JVASuQHlgAbBKJZ21rW6cQPJospueNFQ/s4624/20240216_072454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGUBhapAvAxU1Fzq_la2IGDDTd_fZm6Wfpmcw3n25QpXNTUTZTnpM0jlVLasqdGLcYVQd5GfgSfIvgLvEA516dXbZShZPSLOodg70lsPpNgaUVOmlMniqU357Lcnajy0Gyx7SgwU1hJgpGjTGzRJM6ov4C7JVASuQHlgAbBKJZ21rW6cQPJospueNFQ/s320/20240216_072454.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obligatory pre-race showgirl photo</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Michael Tatham, a Bay area friend who now lives in the Vegas
area, graciously offered to crew us, and we were very happy for his help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got our pictures taken with showgirls,
said hello to friends, and lined up at the start.<br /><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Early on in the race, I realized that I probably had not
tapered enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A 115 mile week the week
before, culminating in a 50K just five days prior was possibly not a good setup
for fresh legs, despite light mileage Monday through Thursday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, I was running strong and steady, and
although the sun was hot, I was managing my pace and my hydration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured I could maintain twelve minute miles up
to about the fifty mile mark, and then I’d just have to be in the fourteens for the
rest of the race to hit twenty two hours.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is not exactly how it went, but I’d say it was pretty
close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started dipping into the thirteens sooner than I would have preferred… however, I resisted going into a dark
place the way I sometimes do when my pace dips earlier than I'd like, and just I focused on keeping positive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Any time I felt gassed, I’d just slow down by maybe a minute per mile
until I regained some energy, and soon enough my pace would improve for a while
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Mid</span> afternoon on Friday started
feeling a bit rough, because (as always) my stomach got squirrely once my core
was overheated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An ice bandana made
things manageable, and I was able to keep up with my hydration, but I was
grateful for the evening hours when it started to get cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bill Schultz says “manage the day, and own the night.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s just what I did.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It took hours into the night before my core temp cooled
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Michael kept telling me to put on
a jacket, but I was running hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the
USATF race you were allowed headphones if you weren’t in contention for an
overall podium spot (I wasn’t), so on occasion I’d use tunes to give me
motivation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other times, I just turned
them off and ran in silence, talking to the other runners.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>One of the challenging things about this race was the timing. Prior to this year's ATY, I had not ever experienced timing issues at Aravaipa races—they are a stellar company, put on fun and interesting races and have great aid station support, but at ATY, the first Aravaipa race I've attended without Mike Melton timing, and now at this race, there were laps that appeared to get lost, and we had to speak to the timing tent to ensure they got added back in. Nobody wanted to run any longer than 100, so this was frustrating. Lots of folks were grumbling on the course. Particularly in a national championship race, I couldn't fathom why there wasn't a double timing mechanism in place.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was the first time I’d run the “short course”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackpot has two courses— the certified short
1.2 (or so) mile loop for the USATF and “short course” 100 mile race, and a longer two plus
mile loop for the multi-day races and the 100 that starts on day two. I vastly preferred the short course. I also didn’t really need a headlamp on that course, which
was nice.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’d see Jaide with some regularity— she and I were in
different races (she was running the “short course 100”), and I saw Stefanie
Bernosky, a friend from Seattle who was looking to PR and break twenty hours. I was thrilled to see both of my friends also
running strong and steady.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The pain set in probably at about mile fifty, which I did NOT
hit in ten hours, but closer to ten and a half.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That made twenty two hours look a little more challenging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept moving, but it definitely took more
effort than I was used to in recent hundreds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had I not had
the twenty two hour goal in my head, I likely would have backed off on pace and spent a
lot more time walking just to keep things comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the twenty two was
whispering to me… at least… let’s get sub twenty three…. And so despite the growing pain
in my feet, and the constant pushing that just kept me on the edge of nausea, I
would say I ran to my limits, ranging to mild to moderate (but sustainable) discomfort all night long.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One of the things I was acutely aware of was the position of
the “live stream”—the camera that catches the runners as they come by, so your
friends can watch from home (for folks who apparently like watching paint dry).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
positioned right after my walk spot, at the top of a steepish little
hill leading into the start/finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So anyone watching probably
thought I was always walking, when in fact, I really only had a couple of short
walk spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Towards the end of the race,
though, I was hurting almost every time I walked up that hill, and I expected
anyone watching could see it in my face. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For most of the night, I was thinking I’d probably come in
closer to twenty three hours than twenty two, but I kept pushing to see how much below twenty three I could
pull off.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Dawn came, and it was brilliant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sunrise was pink and orange and just
spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On my last lap, I stopped a
couple of times to capture the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1KMhWQLc_32WuYCdB9oTDfQhMGLrIATESezEhV9kQBDAIzC55AfcV_fP98sBcakIsnMmrVYIkORAnrZZt_hTCnUwf0nlC2_u3hqA0OXqB_3cW0rIJddLeCQhiwhFCtUT2Ds1MLCPoIpIxccy3LxeBONV44wGCpuuNCKpNIm2SAJtLfiGGDWLOOGlNg/s4624/20240217_061640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1KMhWQLc_32WuYCdB9oTDfQhMGLrIATESezEhV9kQBDAIzC55AfcV_fP98sBcakIsnMmrVYIkORAnrZZt_hTCnUwf0nlC2_u3hqA0OXqB_3cW0rIJddLeCQhiwhFCtUT2Ds1MLCPoIpIxccy3LxeBONV44wGCpuuNCKpNIm2SAJtLfiGGDWLOOGlNg/w292-h219/20240217_061640.jpg" width="292" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi5RMH2_xUfTYR9cdqMELkemiJzgzWduRWNKM9KJPjBbrD5P-hVPWTyuAiZ9Rwf8-CZtOuJc0Tctoeupd4ErfAtysnwEQnceRIA0TbeU0KUdZQCW680pgKs86wbR7lCxCFdxCeWpls-2HirYSEMATKn0vPiG1TiMuCZFnxSyaKm24B42BrpYqijVgMqQ/s4624/20240217_061731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi5RMH2_xUfTYR9cdqMELkemiJzgzWduRWNKM9KJPjBbrD5P-hVPWTyuAiZ9Rwf8-CZtOuJc0Tctoeupd4ErfAtysnwEQnceRIA0TbeU0KUdZQCW680pgKs86wbR7lCxCFdxCeWpls-2HirYSEMATKn0vPiG1TiMuCZFnxSyaKm24B42BrpYqijVgMqQ/w292-h219/20240217_061731.jpg" width="292" /></a></div></div><br />I finished the race in twenty two hours thirty minutes and fifty six seconds. Not quite as fast as my goal, but significantly
faster than any recent hundreds. It was good enough for sixth woman, fifteenth overall, and the title of age 55-59 national champion, as this was a national championship race. I also
finished knowing I had given it my best. <p></p><p class="MsoNormal">It was a good feeling. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Jaide got the sub twenty four she was looking for, and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She came in two minutes behind me at 22:32 and
change, first woman in the short course 100, with close to a five hour PR.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Stefanie killed her race, pulling off her sub twenty goal. Friends Jill Hudson, Tony Nguyen, Sue Glesne, Kit Brazier, Laura Range, Kim Sergeant also killed it out there, some gutting through lots of pain to get those buckles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was a good day.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichYLFNJg6FHNTN8RgTkxIX225TnMWgcUHITbiYfuwNt2ZpwHOzX9ClgEdA1Nomi3djvgskSIaqKQBB4G9F7FTKgykBMzGj6dQdy9Xnq5uO3bf7bawUWFoZb5NbTsBP9Bj3CpBlLmKp8GbCuT2q9OsevjpVaD5TJPv8JCT3DSKanW5MAWosnh4Q_CHmw/s4624/20240217_102549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichYLFNJg6FHNTN8RgTkxIX225TnMWgcUHITbiYfuwNt2ZpwHOzX9ClgEdA1Nomi3djvgskSIaqKQBB4G9F7FTKgykBMzGj6dQdy9Xnq5uO3bf7bawUWFoZb5NbTsBP9Bj3CpBlLmKp8GbCuT2q9OsevjpVaD5TJPv8JCT3DSKanW5MAWosnh4Q_CHmw/s320/20240217_102549.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some hardware and a nice national champion patch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5F8UaoC4WIVC_mJXf55EWqWCPvruETvM_AyQg0Koe_mw7AJDfdqXn87k3EaiOxFy05Fik3arl5z9ND9823HTcT2fya7hOJ2d9j-4IKnr3Jof4uXfnFQKPiYJXWZFaJQ8404eGZu-o3GepqgP-dFBNp6-SeMl82PreKPz2_U4IWFo2vQ1pfsRCE_BqA/s4624/20240217_101210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5F8UaoC4WIVC_mJXf55EWqWCPvruETvM_AyQg0Koe_mw7AJDfdqXn87k3EaiOxFy05Fik3arl5z9ND9823HTcT2fya7hOJ2d9j-4IKnr3Jof4uXfnFQKPiYJXWZFaJQ8404eGZu-o3GepqgP-dFBNp6-SeMl82PreKPz2_U4IWFo2vQ1pfsRCE_BqA/s320/20240217_101210.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jaide and Stef after the race</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivO0lpLi48Q-7HRMPcb51114KYoLS9CKTNFdbJk0YOW5ySC9KHuIMvDyBfp95F3LTjXLxv3gq6SZ4_7_-A33QAu-pfmvSlOS8-LpOzsjGRb1K6VlHixsjEgo2TOcyLHJppTy05ni6kOpdGeiy41FuLZsr7KrD9vVK1MlqHgXbLt6xq3VPwYFpKx4SuBg/s4624/20240219_080318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivO0lpLi48Q-7HRMPcb51114KYoLS9CKTNFdbJk0YOW5ySC9KHuIMvDyBfp95F3LTjXLxv3gq6SZ4_7_-A33QAu-pfmvSlOS8-LpOzsjGRb1K6VlHixsjEgo2TOcyLHJppTy05ni6kOpdGeiy41FuLZsr7KrD9vVK1MlqHgXbLt6xq3VPwYFpKx4SuBg/s320/20240219_080318.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6EHcrJYgCUjzPrYkOItZ4wcZlAX0W2ZHQaC9POV5lGqSnarHTEMUHLt1Gtk6pKMoU-dLM2tLKb9sID_T2JD613rjgoKoTH119-wmr2V-gjYRu6TklB3yiEz2J3idIjevKW3kmZhOc-UO1TP3CC45PFnDsP0QL0NRdyDjlB1ahI9Vzeu5njodyNmTZdQ/s4624/20240219_080326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6EHcrJYgCUjzPrYkOItZ4wcZlAX0W2ZHQaC9POV5lGqSnarHTEMUHLt1Gtk6pKMoU-dLM2tLKb9sID_T2JD613rjgoKoTH119-wmr2V-gjYRu6TklB3yiEz2J3idIjevKW3kmZhOc-UO1TP3CC45PFnDsP0QL0NRdyDjlB1ahI9Vzeu5njodyNmTZdQ/s320/20240219_080326.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-89410170908346310242023-06-05T17:37:00.000-07:002023-06-05T17:37:06.010-07:00The CUT 77.7The CUT 112: I had zero business signing up for this race. None. <div><br /></div><div>The Connecticut
Ultra Traverse is 112 miles across Connecticut via highly technical trails. It
starts on the Massachusetts border and ends in the Long Island Sound. There is
about 17,000 feet of elevation gain, with some stunning scenery and views along
the way. The dreamchild of CULTRA host Art Byram, this race has been highly
touted on, well, almost each and every CULTRA episode. I didn't really start to
even think about it until last year's post CUT episode featuring "The Woman of
the CUT" where Cherie Bilbie and Jillian Ellefson told their finish story. They
had done some pretty stellar preparation and had fabulous crew, and theirs was a
story of relentless, determined forward progress. They finished together. </div><div><br /></div><div>Fast
forward a few months where I got a chance to meet all of the CULTRA host crew
I'd not yet met in person (I already knew Fred Murolo) at the Badger 100 in
Wisconsin. I started the race running with Art Byram, Jimmy McCaffrey and Becky
Burke, 3 out of the 4 hosts of the podcast, and ended up running 85 of the
hundred miles with Becky before we split up and she ran ahead. Whenever you
spend 85 miles with someone, it is a pretty special thing, and Becky and I
talked about running something else together in the future. I think it was
probably January when I messaged Becky and said "I'll do the CUT if you'll do
it". And just like that, I was signed up. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now... when I say I had no business
signing up, I mean that I am no trail runner. Yes I run long races on road.
Sometimes very long. But trail running is, plain and simple, a different sport.
Early on in my running career after a few successful road ultras I tried my hand
at some trail running. I did a lot of falling. There are some trail runners who
just seem to skim over all of those pesky rocks and roots, hopping from pointy
rock to pointy rock. I was not one of those. I did complete a few trail ultras -
the Vegan Power 50K and the Born to Run trail marathon, but really didn't feel
comfortable on the more technical trails, and stuck to roads for years after
that, finding success in long short-looped courses that were pretty much always
on pavement. </div><div><br /></div><div>I signed up for Javelina Jundred in 2021 and completed only my
second trail hundred. Javelina is in the desert and I'd describe those trails as
highly runnable. There is a short moderately rocky section, but nothing
(NOTHING) like the rock fields of the Northeast, so after Javelina I tried my
hand at some trail running in Marin County in the Headlands. Now those trails?
Marin? Like butter. Also nothing (NOTHING!!) like the trails of New England.
Although there is significant elevation gain, those trails are wide and mostly
hard packed dirt. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, up until this race, the furthest I've gone on trails with significant
elevation gain was 50 miles in the Headlands with 10K of gain. I was signed up
for the 100, but we were all pulled off the course mid-way due to a coyote
incident. Long story. So - it is safe to say that despite putting in 100 mile
weeks on roads, I really was not remotely trained for the terrain. </div><div><br /></div><div>After my 6
day race in France in April, I realized I had a mere 2 months to start getting
in any sort of preparation. I got in a 10 miler at Tiger Mountain in Washington State with my friend Jill, and then
another run with her at Cougar Mountain a few weeks later. I did a bit of hiking on rocky trails
with my daughter, and, well, that was about it. </div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_9l3uP3nAdjXKQaEDVGdiSaNjtX02pZwofCdeaGDb6JG4X02JzPF5REWFwKyB4g-7IYnwWO0M8IYCMqecdA5zdM-yKg__nMeA3jrnq4tx9IVW4NFIyEbFXKUGOy-4w6foj9aclXR11JfMomnNbRrhsWvbYwnoXJbbDTMcKoig46oEUGHZi5eLCE/s1080/PattyAmyHike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1080" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_9l3uP3nAdjXKQaEDVGdiSaNjtX02pZwofCdeaGDb6JG4X02JzPF5REWFwKyB4g-7IYnwWO0M8IYCMqecdA5zdM-yKg__nMeA3jrnq4tx9IVW4NFIyEbFXKUGOy-4w6foj9aclXR11JfMomnNbRrhsWvbYwnoXJbbDTMcKoig46oEUGHZi5eLCE/s320/PattyAmyHike.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking with Patty</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HWvbH34P_-7F5fpeGHMA0KVrjQCTHD49gn-lOVMHuNlguVoSv2epjiE1oevAQocVkDj-EI7YqbVqdBFC4JY42TwjIR4OuJVGWJZKDNffcJex9cvQ-NNly1pFqiR27uZoCE2hg-PD6k5FzVJq9_Gl95TeREfuKol1TlaqT5rjlTscV39dujvwE_Y/s2048/AmyBeckyPractice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HWvbH34P_-7F5fpeGHMA0KVrjQCTHD49gn-lOVMHuNlguVoSv2epjiE1oevAQocVkDj-EI7YqbVqdBFC4JY42TwjIR4OuJVGWJZKDNffcJex9cvQ-NNly1pFqiR27uZoCE2hg-PD6k5FzVJq9_Gl95TeREfuKol1TlaqT5rjlTscV39dujvwE_Y/s320/AmyBeckyPractice.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cramming for the CUT with Becky</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>After arriving in Connecticut
last week, Becky took me out on 2 separate trail runs on the course itself. On
our 10 miler day 2, I fell twice, bloodying my hand, and knew I was in for
trouble at this race. I knew the chances of my finishing the race were slim.
Becky and I were planning to run together, and my biggest fear after the couple
of test runs we did was either slowing her race down, with my rookie trail
running, or else hurting myself by running where I wasn't comfortable running,
trying to keep up with her. I was terrified. </div><div><br /></div><div>But Becky had assembled a rock
start crew from the Cultra patreons, and this thing was going to happen. Race
day dawned with a weather forecast in the 90's for Friday. This was some cause for concern. My friend Ed Rudman,
who signed up for crew for as long as I needed him, picked us up at 5:45 at
Becky's house to bring us to the start. We stopped at Neil's donuts (OMG) for
breakfast, and arrived at the start at about 7:15 - just long enough to get
everything ready and head out. Art gave a nice pre-race briefing, we lined up,
and off we went. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj3PMcCcMF17wldNg2CEFsJ75HA075WZ0WOi3laE5Qiux_iXlWQrdZM1Ggp9NuTvQI-IyeF9R_A3BajpxLZXrdt_x9Tx-R_t-h6GBHZGlAg1NKYoABlm-XuupT0ORCAZ7_g8mVNKfGsSAWzD0pU7mTe0s7Myq4ge9SasnTXIRu7z8Izl9ta9QMtBk/s1124/Donuts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="843" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj3PMcCcMF17wldNg2CEFsJ75HA075WZ0WOi3laE5Qiux_iXlWQrdZM1Ggp9NuTvQI-IyeF9R_A3BajpxLZXrdt_x9Tx-R_t-h6GBHZGlAg1NKYoABlm-XuupT0ORCAZ7_g8mVNKfGsSAWzD0pU7mTe0s7Myq4ge9SasnTXIRu7z8Izl9ta9QMtBk/s320/Donuts.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DONUTS!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0F7SJU2dsO5i41K2FVa8HWbvNpCmZWIf0350t1LHqziOX1eo_A5Vzp8P7W10CH7xE08UcPpQJCj4ruAooRD3Ld3QycafIfOhNqw5qwcBMF2SMRdbymM2fTpXLAKI7E21KzLU5nfY2m4EmiqtDQbjx9vvJ48rxkh9KFVQNt-1OpG9Wv6X8i1fXZM/s2048/EdAmy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0F7SJU2dsO5i41K2FVa8HWbvNpCmZWIf0350t1LHqziOX1eo_A5Vzp8P7W10CH7xE08UcPpQJCj4ruAooRD3Ld3QycafIfOhNqw5qwcBMF2SMRdbymM2fTpXLAKI7E21KzLU5nfY2m4EmiqtDQbjx9vvJ48rxkh9KFVQNt-1OpG9Wv6X8i1fXZM/s320/EdAmy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed and I pre-race</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLz4S1Fma0iWqR-2X0_XM0oS1BUhkDWRmEM0tUIDS4Ta44lr0a2Bp0dCloPIQCjw2abZuV8j_eF9NRBlj9gprrsTF8RM8dWrfuGf1xhf1rovF8SNa2tTlHUGy4Io1NysPoZ3SYiD-7YNdj-9_syQ5o8XpulCJRYLDghODDOJrgBsluCixjVClrlg/s2048/ArtBriefing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLz4S1Fma0iWqR-2X0_XM0oS1BUhkDWRmEM0tUIDS4Ta44lr0a2Bp0dCloPIQCjw2abZuV8j_eF9NRBlj9gprrsTF8RM8dWrfuGf1xhf1rovF8SNa2tTlHUGy4Io1NysPoZ3SYiD-7YNdj-9_syQ5o8XpulCJRYLDghODDOJrgBsluCixjVClrlg/s320/ArtBriefing.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art's pre-race briefing</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div>Very quickly, (and according to plan), Becky and I were in the
rear. Our plan was to go out conservatively, knowing there was rough terrain
ahead. The early parts of the course were highly runnable on the flat and
downhill sections, and we walked all of the ups. Our first couple miles were about a 16
minute mile pace, dipping into the 15's. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our pace sheet had us at 18's for the
first few sections, so anything below that was gravy. I was starting to get
comfortable with the terrain and into something like a groove when I hit a rock
the wrong way and rolled my ankle pretty badly - just at mile 4. It hurt. A lot.
Enough that I thought my race very well might be over before even getting to the
first aid station. We tried some tentative walking and I could tell I hadn't broken anything,
and so I eased back into jogging. Although it was pretty angry, it started
feeling a bit better. </div><div><br /></div><div>OK. Onward. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think it was right after the second crew
point that Becky and I hit an impromptu trail angel gift. It was starting to get
really hot and just as we entered the woods, we encountered a cooler full of ice
along with a baggie full of peanut butter cup cookies. We were overjoyed. I
filled my ice bandana with ice, which I ended up keeping on all throughout that
hot day, where it hit 92 at its peak, and we ate one of the yummy treats. Feeling
rejuvenated, we moved forward. </div><div><br /></div><div>We picked up George,
our first pacer, at about mile 18. He ran with Becky and I for a number of miles, but pretty quickly it was clear that Becky needed to run faster than I was running. I told Becky
she needed to go at her own pace and I was pleased to see that she ran on ahead.
I was, in all honesty, much more comfortable running on my own, knowing that I
wasn't slowing anyone down if I chose to walk a particular section that might,
for a seasoned trail runner, be very runnable. Anywhere I had to power hike, I
did so, and I was feeling good. </div><div><br /></div><div>Until the next ankle roll. </div><div><br /></div><div>This one was worse,
and I went down, crying out and holding my ankle and rubbing it. George was with
me at the time, and he helped me up. I gingerly took a few steps, and was
limping pretty badly. To say I was not optimistic is an understatement, but we
started moving forward again and my gait once again become moderately normal. At
this point, however, I became extremely conservative in my estimate of what was
"runnable". </div><div><br /></div><div>At one aid station, Ross Bielak assured me that the crew had enough
pacers to pace Becky and I separately if need be... he even offered to jump in
right then if I needed him. I was profoundly grateful. Knowing I had the support
to go at my own pace was a game changer for my outlook, and I thought that
perhaps there was a chance I could finish. Ross actually did jump in with me at
the next aid station and just like that, I had my own pacer. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ross focused on
ensuring we stayed on course, and making sure cars saw us on road sections,
allowing me to just focus on moving forward. He told some amazing stories - his
Leadville finish story was as good as it gets. There were a few sections in
there that had some runnable parts, and I was happy. When joined the Cultra crew on Wednesday to talk about the CUT, Art had said to embrace
every milestone. And right from the beginning, that is what
I did. This was not so much a race for me of looking to the finish, as just
getting to the next point and being grateful that I had successfully done so. </div><div><br /></div><div>At
about mile 30, I had a section on my own again - it was about a 6 mile section
and the first 2 miles were easy enough, but then I encountered some rock
formations that were daunting, to say the least. These were towering cliffs and boulders - one with something like a tunnel through it, and in the early evening
light the entire section was both awe inspiring and a little bit spooky. It was
otherworldly. There were some very steep technical ups and downs, and I made my
way gingerly through this beautiful foreign terrain. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9DIwsK2xsNiWWU9doOpo_Tt594ttKhKHFtCsXL-Q9CDzXekgqLCN03TpUXhyIGTP8VWCevhqlUQ7HQJSLEB9aTO5B21D_c-1qYg0XPzy5Wi4OORWELQFa1kqWsh4WVKJ-8HD2wQCZMVsBxEW45kS9jNJ9ABNjZAm0NWph2ZduvQj-06TDhAtGN4/s2048/BigRock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9DIwsK2xsNiWWU9doOpo_Tt594ttKhKHFtCsXL-Q9CDzXekgqLCN03TpUXhyIGTP8VWCevhqlUQ7HQJSLEB9aTO5B21D_c-1qYg0XPzy5Wi4OORWELQFa1kqWsh4WVKJ-8HD2wQCZMVsBxEW45kS9jNJ9ABNjZAm0NWph2ZduvQj-06TDhAtGN4/s320/BigRock.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Rock!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>I was just coming down a
hilly scramble when I saw someone familiar running toward me. Sen!!! He had a
big smile on his face, and I was never as glad to see anyone as I was to see him,
when I had expected to be alone for the next several miles. Sen had paced me
during the last 25 miles of my first 100 miler, and is extremely special to me.
We made our way through the rugged terrain, chatting happily and just power
hiking forward. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2zk2BdeFo7iqSNkTnZb3WQFzcX_cG9w6rrNmwlgNA_pi6JGyjflrjJtcuAc6oasd0IH22pL_-lAgHtGSw88Fv73HjZEprTq57SAZODR-5EMH6-4QzYvmQusua0HnW_zEiofQptpPRZMu2ASiZ07SK_HS-HywuHwEqVW64X0sM_P97vUy6Frw2PQ/s4032/SenAmyMountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2zk2BdeFo7iqSNkTnZb3WQFzcX_cG9w6rrNmwlgNA_pi6JGyjflrjJtcuAc6oasd0IH22pL_-lAgHtGSw88Fv73HjZEprTq57SAZODR-5EMH6-4QzYvmQusua0HnW_zEiofQptpPRZMu2ASiZ07SK_HS-HywuHwEqVW64X0sM_P97vUy6Frw2PQ/s320/SenAmyMountain.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sen and I on top of a cliff</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAwyD90u9hbj3hPUkip1DGVkuTYVfT5dv8tmS09omUGdMQYNf-TmS0Rb7-HXYlkPN7KKWcHR8haLbDqvOUH06k3qwk2xyZCUAEJn1iDB5sZbm1uXflL_45rzXQKGo6GefBIF79f_F_Rpv6djfUPgkPPp2rQ5EY_J6A8ckyF2rzsRdgXJzgUAO05Y/s4032/AmyMountain3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAwyD90u9hbj3hPUkip1DGVkuTYVfT5dv8tmS09omUGdMQYNf-TmS0Rb7-HXYlkPN7KKWcHR8haLbDqvOUH06k3qwk2xyZCUAEJn1iDB5sZbm1uXflL_45rzXQKGo6GefBIF79f_F_Rpv6djfUPgkPPp2rQ5EY_J6A8ckyF2rzsRdgXJzgUAO05Y/s320/AmyMountain3.jpg" /></a>
</div><br /></div><div>I believe it was shortly before I picked up Jillian that the
thunderstorms started. The rain quickly became a true downpour, and we were
pretty wet coming into the aid station. At first I thought I'd use my rain
jacket, but after putting it on I quickly realized it would be way too hot, so I
removed it and continued on in my singlet and shorts. It was at this aid station
that Sen left me, and I picked up Jillian.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jillian Ellefson had been featured in
last year's CULTRA episode with Cherie Bilbie, on their inspiring finish. It is
fair to say that she was one of the reasons I was there. She immediately started
what would become an amazing night of care taking, by holding my hiking poles
while we were on the road section, and ensuring that I, as the tired runner, was
furthest from the cars. We started talking, and talked all night. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first
section with Jillian took us to Rogers Orchard, where we made the first cut-off
by about 30 minutes. This meant we had time to take it a bit easier on the
highly technical climbs to come. We picked up my buddy Ed at Rogers, who would
be joining for 2 stints. Those were some difficult but merry miles. They were
also... very wet. The rain, that had started hours earlier, ended up continuing
for a good chunk of the night, and at one point included thunder and lightening. </div><div><br /></div><div>The terrain was some of the most challenging on the course - this was the
"Ragged Mountain" section, where in addition to extremely steep rocky highly
technical climbs, you actually had to scramble down through rock formations on
your ass. For these sections, Jillian would go first. She intentionally had not
brought poles, knowing she would have to hold ours while we scooted down the
steep rocks. I'd hand my poles to Jillian and I'd scoot; then Ed would hand his
to me, and he would come through. I'd never experienced anything like this
section. These were 40 minute miles. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiYTLchVuYzfhe9pFibOsoeW2i-QBbgmOLScqEWGGrUY0rbL3fEevUGTHYoHzSamsMSx6cHvO9FMLc8dvmRkBYMZCPnu1fQC-MlDx3vaaBWA3YGOaY2weBZbCVXB3j_sfwMLktAJOBklXej5Kaolf_8isJhH_w_GEXFxIkwIselTRELSrwrajw-I/s2048/LightAtNight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiYTLchVuYzfhe9pFibOsoeW2i-QBbgmOLScqEWGGrUY0rbL3fEevUGTHYoHzSamsMSx6cHvO9FMLc8dvmRkBYMZCPnu1fQC-MlDx3vaaBWA3YGOaY2weBZbCVXB3j_sfwMLktAJOBklXej5Kaolf_8isJhH_w_GEXFxIkwIselTRELSrwrajw-I/s320/LightAtNight.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>There were stories. There were bad jokes.
What's said on the trail stays on the trail. 'Nuff said. It was an amazing
night. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ed stayed for 2 sections, then Jillian paced me through until dawn, when
she had to leave to go get her daughter. There was a section of the nighttime running that was extremely difficult due to low visibility - we were essentially running through clouds, and it was hard to even see across the road. At one point we passed Becky, who was
being paced by Cherie. It was clear that Becky was hurting. I found out later
she was having a horrible issue of bladder pain that made it excruciating to
walk. When we arrived after the Castle Craig section, another brutal one, we
found out that Becky had dropped. We felt awful for Becky, and this also led to
a bit of a logistical challenge in that, instead of pacing me, Ross was now going to be driving Jillian
to her car, so I needed to get to the next section on my own. The sun was just
coming up, and the early terrain looked smooth, so I did not think this would be a problem.
I moved smoothly and happily through the early dawn hour, proud of myself every
time I successfully kept myself on trail. I was very optimistic about a possible
finish. </div><div><br /></div><div>Until... I lost the trail. </div><div><br /></div><div>I saw a blue blaze, then nothing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I walked
forward. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nothing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I walked sideways. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nothing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Walked back to the blaze and went
to the side. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nothing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just could not figure out where I was supposed to go. I
went out to the road and turned on my phone for the first time in the race,
texting the crew group that I was lost. I sent a picture of where I was on the
map, and Cherie told me that the trail continued on the other side of the road. </div><div><br /></div><div>Somehow, I found the blue blaze on the other side, and let the group know I was
found again. I lost the blaze again shortly thereafter. I could see on the
navigation on my watch that the trail was to my right, but I just couldn't find
the blazes. I made my way up a hill that was steep and rocky and difficult,
fighting bushes and obstacles, and finally found the trail again. At this point
I was pretty exhausted - every climb made my legs feel like jelly and I had to
just stop and catch my breath and rest my legs to finish the climbs. I think I
probably lost a good 30 minutes in that section, and I knew I was already
fighting the 9pm cutoff at Bluff Head. It was, to say the least, discouraging. </div><div><br /></div><div>I
was thrilled to pick up Ross again at the next aid station. At this point, even
though they were only 5-6 miles apart, it was hours between aid stations. Our
pace sheet had us doing 23 minute miles through all these sections, and assuming
I did that, I had a 40 minute buffer on the cut-off, but every mile longer than
that took minutes off the buffer. </div><div><br /></div><div>We saw Fred who ran with us for about 1/2 mile
as we approached the next crew point; there was a Dunkin Donuts there and I put
in a request for a cream filled donut, coffee with lots of cream and an OJ. I
downed that in about 2 minutes, and we started moving again. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPkEKvn3aAolHeirVNA4esNPhFfm7umhv4RBBcDPNIlyb6tHsElHH_HahZkg3poKTg8YrwdKR976kX3QnSxPLXxEtN18p-aYBkkDk7IBTzKnmHAZPFyhStTV6YNlMQ0mGC3d7tEWNTNLz_ZC1SwiwjN-3NLH37h17PL3lNjiUO8AY-RemLFh8ono/s2048/AmyFred.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPkEKvn3aAolHeirVNA4esNPhFfm7umhv4RBBcDPNIlyb6tHsElHH_HahZkg3poKTg8YrwdKR976kX3QnSxPLXxEtN18p-aYBkkDk7IBTzKnmHAZPFyhStTV6YNlMQ0mGC3d7tEWNTNLz_ZC1SwiwjN-3NLH37h17PL3lNjiUO8AY-RemLFh8ono/s320/AmyFred.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catching up with Fred</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The next section
actually had some very runnable terrain, including a road section. Although the
first 2 miles were both 30 minute miles (14 minutes off the buffer), the last
couple were under 20 minutes. As we swept into the aid station I saw my cousin
Rebecca - I'd had no idea she would be there, and I started sobbing. I asked
Cherie if she thought I had any chance of making the cutoff and she said yes, if
I just kept moving forward the way I was moving. I picked up Carina as a pacer,
and off we went.</div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately, the terrain got highly technical again, and it
appeared that the 23 minute miles were a thing of the past. The optimism at the
last aid station was pretty quickly replaced by the reality of the math. It
became clear that the cut-off was almost certainly unattainable. I thought very
hard about dropping at mile 73, and Carina said "this would be a really boring
place to tap out. If you wait until the next one, you get a great number, and
really good views". I decided to keep moving, and we left the aid station at 73
miles. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first mile of the next section wasn't too bad, although it was
probably still a 30 minute miles. But then we hit the rock field again, and....
I was done. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even the flat sections were taking me almost 30 minutes, and what
was in front of us was not flat. It was steep, with small jagged rocks just
everywhere. Every step hurt. Worse, I'd started to trip and stumble. Bothersome
and frustrating on the flat sections, but potentially extremely dangerous on the
sections that were essentially next to a cliff. I told Carina I was out at the
next aid station. Which was an agonizing 4 miles in front of us. We made our way
slowly and painfully through that section, which was probably the longest 4 miles of my life. At the top of the worst climb, we were, as Carina had
promised, rewarded by a staggering view. And another challenging down.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I trudged into Guidas, I heard cheering. Cherie, Ross, George and Ed were all there to meet me. Cheering, even though I was dropping. Because every one of them knew just how hard won these miles were.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had no business signing up for this race. And yet... terrified, tripping, limping, hiking and scrambling, I'd made my way 77.7 miles across what some believe is the toughest trail race in New England. </div><div><br /></div><div>No - it wasn't 112 miles. I didn't get to ride the elevator or dip my feet into the sound.</div><div><br /></div><div>That... is for next year. </div><div><br /></div><div>After I've had a chance to do the training this race deserves.</div><div><br /></div><div>For me, this is a DNF to celebrate. I am celebrating starting this race, and getting to where I got, and seeing just what a beautiful, beautiful sport I've been missing out on by just sticking to roads. There is a voice whispering in my ear that maybe... if I actually get out there and tell that timid voice to fuck off, maybe I too can spend a few miles skimming confidently over the rocks, eyeing a steep climb with something like anticipation by what I know will reward me at the top. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't end this without saying that it would have been literally impossible to get where I got without the incredible outpouring of support from Team Evil Power. Praying I don't miss anyone as I thank, in no particular order, Ed, Sen, Fred, Art, Becky and Brendan Burke, Becca Manion, Celeste Fong, Jillian, Cherie, Reagan, Ross, George, and Carina. I am humbled by your generosity. </div>Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-34304777154593167472023-04-30T14:27:00.000-07:002023-04-30T14:27:31.653-07:006 Jours De France - 2023<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">6 Day Races are monsters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You only do them for a few reasons:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0px;"></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">You have never done one before and so you are
blissfully ignorant of the pain you are about to endure</span></li><li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">You have some notion that a 6 day race is just a
1 day race times 6</span></li><li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">You HAVE done one before, but, like childbirth,
you forgot what it was really like</span></li><li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">You really really hate yourself.</span></li></ol><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not sure what my motivation was – probably 3 or 4, but on
April 15<sup>th</sup>, I dove headfirst into my 4<sup>th</sup> 6-day race.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve come to believe that it is not remotely surprising that
my debut 6-day was my best performance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is related to number 1 above – I went into that race with a goal,
and had a solid crew who helped me reach my goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I battled the pain, the fatigue, the sleep
dep, and like a robot did what my crew told me to do to get what, in
retrospect, was a pretty big number (453).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Of course – having done it once, you figure… next time, I
can do better.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Race number 2 was 3 Days at the Fair in New Jersey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went in looking for 500 and a women’s
American Record.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I PR’d my 100 mile
time, and my 72 hour result in that race, but blew up spectacularly on the end
of the day 3, developing the dreaded “lean”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I came home humbled, having painfully achieved
385.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still got the women’s win – but the
number was less than impressive.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Race number 3 was back at ATY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, I went int it with a high goal – again
aiming for 500.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got 100+ on day 1, and
had a solid early race – steady first couple of days, then battled plantar fasciitis
for the last couple of days to the extent that I was changing footwear Every.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Single.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Still – ended up with almost 417, and the women’s win.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Given the results of my last 2 races, I went into this race,
#4 with smaller goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wanted to
PR – which meant anything over 453.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Since going over 100 miles each day on day 1 of races 2 and 3 had gotten
me WORSE results rather than better, I decided to go back to my pacing strategy
for race number 1, which had been sustainable and, I thought, reasonable – it left
me in good enough shape for the last 3 days to be pretty solid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My plan was 95, 76, and then 4 days of 72’s,
for a PR of 459.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The wildcard in this was my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ve been my weak point for the past year
or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took months to move past the
acute PF from the previous 6-day race, but the PF showed up again in an ugly
way in September, knocking me out of Spartathlon at a mere 22 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>PF had improved since, then, but after my 48
hour at ATY this past New Year’s, I developed what I believe was a case of
acute extensor tendonitis that made dorsiflexion extremely painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been able to successfully race at
Jackpot 48 a month and a half earlier (though stopped at hour 34 due to high
winds), but still – 6 days was a lot longer than 34 hours.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I brought 4 pairs of shoes, 2 pairs of inserts, cloth tape, and
Voltaren in order to be prepared to deal with various foot issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bob Hearn was also signed up for this race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our friend Steve Troxel had originally been
signed up as well, but withdrew when he got accepted to Western States.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bob and I planned to meet a couple of days
prior to the race and do a little sightseeing, then share a bungalow at the
site.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I arrived on Wednesday April 12, mid-day, and met Bob at the
airport where we picked up our car rental and headed to St. Tropez for a
night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We checked out the lovely beach,
where I collected a handful of beach glass, had a nice French dinner, and then
did some sightseeing the next morning before heading to Vallon Pont d’Arc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the location of the race, and it was
about a 3 -4 hour drive from where we were. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a nice lunch en route, and at the
restaurant I saw that we were just ½ mile away from the historic ruins of a fort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We decided to take a side trip to just check
it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJ_hLgtoHIoIpEMxLU_vyC80M2tKldZb9JUBN6yOU4dYAD9Wx5dkK9qA_COoZXPEL_AKuZZq4ghbdIsRtQnUwp5XqgBEEYFaoygPwHPCbU80-S7-PD7KMmRN8wWvzOu3Lf9aCmb7W2xmL1ONlDhPY3B9K3c3AW4_juOdR7V8j3vTkVTRHFboERmo/s2048/image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1558" data-original-width="2048" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJ_hLgtoHIoIpEMxLU_vyC80M2tKldZb9JUBN6yOU4dYAD9Wx5dkK9qA_COoZXPEL_AKuZZq4ghbdIsRtQnUwp5XqgBEEYFaoygPwHPCbU80-S7-PD7KMmRN8wWvzOu3Lf9aCmb7W2xmL1ONlDhPY3B9K3c3AW4_juOdR7V8j3vTkVTRHFboERmo/s320/image.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob on the beach in St. Tropez</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dX_VkindW7sLtJRl3LoGzMnY44YUTQ20ggrMZTGk359nzqozP5xJ0CmiH9TadUHQAWRbclDiQwT5sFzjwBW-xkH64iRNcDaoKvP119RcawWSycybLXk3XEV6dcdY34K9oOc9c1fCTOO179DcmowJwOAHlNvKXI0hS0D0aMLJCfY9O4DHzpSlHms/s2048/Beach%20Glass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dX_VkindW7sLtJRl3LoGzMnY44YUTQ20ggrMZTGk359nzqozP5xJ0CmiH9TadUHQAWRbclDiQwT5sFzjwBW-xkH64iRNcDaoKvP119RcawWSycybLXk3XEV6dcdY34K9oOc9c1fCTOO179DcmowJwOAHlNvKXI0hS0D0aMLJCfY9O4DHzpSlHms/s320/Beach%20Glass.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sea glass collection</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjosytLVOzQ3ebOMAYuJQktNMgKT40beLnixCTfPo47wLTqivATxkVsf73lnoDK3CvbNbod383uq-TPGIBLeSFSlMpyWv2anvlIb5b9uAaRHATb-_TRxnWPZxrIKW7cxlXrMlZoBY3zjDMfgQK_BAXEPksbeJrsD8r-6xKh4rfWZ05W2K7cTOsU0kI/s2048/St%20Tropez.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjosytLVOzQ3ebOMAYuJQktNMgKT40beLnixCTfPo47wLTqivATxkVsf73lnoDK3CvbNbod383uq-TPGIBLeSFSlMpyWv2anvlIb5b9uAaRHATb-_TRxnWPZxrIKW7cxlXrMlZoBY3zjDMfgQK_BAXEPksbeJrsD8r-6xKh4rfWZ05W2K7cTOsU0kI/s320/St%20Tropez.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Tropez by the beach</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lesson #1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never trust
Google Maps in a different country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
followed the directions toward the site, and got more and more concerned as the
road turned from road into off-road into something I’m not sure how to describe.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We wondered whether we should continue
when we saw that there was no pavement, but bravely (stupidly) soldiered
on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bob was driving, so he didn’t have
the perspective that I had – of looking at essentially the cliff that dropped
below us on my right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The road was only wide
enough for one vehicle, and at some point we saw that we had actually PASSED
the site we were going to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Google
was telling us to make a U-turn, but that was pretty impossible at that
juncture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We continued another 5 minutes
or so to the top of someone’s driveway where there was just enough room to turn
around.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8P0UP9Ck6VPS2dO4jTdLjkvSlcxiTMcjpskSHZEhdr4VwDyLpxS3S355LTl9hcdsrIZj4ebmj7q4H88QWp-2QYMy9jrqmI8vVh7ZSxR2cH3tuP2TpkmAZe_pd5QFmBuo98LUfYsy_oCMVct68e1jj6YMsZaijszCYFTT28x-qCxw-n3JsLyyOPKg/s2048/The%20Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8P0UP9Ck6VPS2dO4jTdLjkvSlcxiTMcjpskSHZEhdr4VwDyLpxS3S355LTl9hcdsrIZj4ebmj7q4H88QWp-2QYMy9jrqmI8vVh7ZSxR2cH3tuP2TpkmAZe_pd5QFmBuo98LUfYsy_oCMVct68e1jj6YMsZaijszCYFTT28x-qCxw-n3JsLyyOPKg/s320/The%20Road.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob stopping to catch a photo as we drove back. Note road width.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Driving back was somewhat less hair raising since we knew we could at least traverse the road back to the start. As we got close to where the pavement had originally ended, we saw a sign to the right that was pointing to the ruins we were seeking, along with a charming little staircase. It turned out there was even a little parking area there that we had missed on the way in. We parked the car and started to climb, thinking it would be just ahead.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">The climb was actually steep , strenuous and somewhat
technical, and made all the more exciting by what I would guess were about 70
mph winds whipping us toward the edge of what was essentially a cliff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got up to the site of the ruins and braced
ourselves against the winds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took
some hard won pictures (and a video of the howling wind) before heading back to
the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was probably the most exciting
part of the trip – but used up a good hour of our afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got back in the car to head on to the race
site, since we wanted to get there in time for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We made one more stop at Aix en Provence at a
sports store to buy race belts and sleeping bags, and continued on.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAPHFFrA5UDgq50rRsPDCpW3CJ510RdJZHK0w61OwZO1DJba5wg9N6s1DVqV82Wvc9Bw2_OgJJ8CHUMtccvjknZumpRv68zt63Ukg-WVJaPms5cVsU5D2bS67gMhdaPgZt8DXFDjABFSypM0VcVVg34fUsXmzQvbTdAb3NXAdyCs8N4gMdVnoY6A/s2048/Stairs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAPHFFrA5UDgq50rRsPDCpW3CJ510RdJZHK0w61OwZO1DJba5wg9N6s1DVqV82Wvc9Bw2_OgJJ8CHUMtccvjknZumpRv68zt63Ukg-WVJaPms5cVsU5D2bS67gMhdaPgZt8DXFDjABFSypM0VcVVg34fUsXmzQvbTdAb3NXAdyCs8N4gMdVnoY6A/w195-h261/Stairs.jpg" width="195" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the climb</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9XFXZ_vzGDfgN1BA8Rx0Yp8ZWAu99snpThyCBhihZSRoElh0-PE_bw_FLVfiS-LzShrfC2LePzkWFcKUiaQZzEGEXJw4ugvvmR0bbeSbkF2_dXwR2Z2FAFYgFkWMvCS-e2BuT_aJzcKJZytNqSh978A-UMtueGzCy09WSRqn52oay1HES_k2ZX4/s2048/FortRuins2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1671" data-original-width="2048" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9XFXZ_vzGDfgN1BA8Rx0Yp8ZWAu99snpThyCBhihZSRoElh0-PE_bw_FLVfiS-LzShrfC2LePzkWFcKUiaQZzEGEXJw4ugvvmR0bbeSbkF2_dXwR2Z2FAFYgFkWMvCS-e2BuT_aJzcKJZytNqSh978A-UMtueGzCy09WSRqn52oay1HES_k2ZX4/s320/FortRuins2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ruins of the Fort Freinet</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56UhRqqBom8tiiKKhbtK6daGrYg_WKBa0k1FCGsIqbWsj8WAE0PEAn7FpnMoUy4_cHo3kgJzkoNgIlw3UEfKLov8LFHAMrkipRxFSf3lBb3MISQACmp-J2L-dZlwXM6DdCJTPzzDSzqnyZoYzjdDsK5tpws5Wfuv9-6TqK975yC8ED6IrbbZIrco/s2048/Fort%20Ruins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56UhRqqBom8tiiKKhbtK6daGrYg_WKBa0k1FCGsIqbWsj8WAE0PEAn7FpnMoUy4_cHo3kgJzkoNgIlw3UEfKLov8LFHAMrkipRxFSf3lBb3MISQACmp-J2L-dZlwXM6DdCJTPzzDSzqnyZoYzjdDsK5tpws5Wfuv9-6TqK975yC8ED6IrbbZIrco/s320/Fort%20Ruins.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>We arrived at the campsite at about dinnertime where we ran
into Richard McChesney and his crew. We
chatted for a few moments before heading to check in, and were a bit dismayed
to find that there had been a miscommunication regarding the bungalow Bob had
reserved. It was occupied for the night,
and we wouldn’t be able to get into it until morning. Rather than go through the hassle of getting
settled into a different bungalow for just one night with a roommate that was
nowhere to be found, we decided to just book a room nearby, and head there
after dinner. We dined at a restaurant
Bob had gone to the previous year, and then headed to our hotel.</div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The hotel was beautiful, located about ½ mile walk away from
the arches that the area was known for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
check-in was uneventful, and I slept well and long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next morning, I fumbled my way through an
unfamiliar French continental breakfast routine, the highlight of which was soft
boiling my own egg in this nifty little machine that had color coded egg
holders for all the folks boiling eggs at one time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bob was not quite as charmed by this
contraption as I was, as when he had asked the proprietor the night prior as to
whether there would be eggs at the breakfast, he was envisioning a nice plate
of scrambled.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After breakfast we headed over to spend time viewing the magnificent
arch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was one of only 2 known
natural bridges to cross a river, and it was truly impressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took lots of pictures, then headed back
over to the race site for preparations.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuu8jXq6h_gu4P99xePqSQGdb-R2VjLVTR7M46YUfw5c9_mueWFspxBChBAzNwNzyJ3CwoTP6k36S4za0P4xsjZ0cNpPHD-fEU02WyEYsoigkuzknYoa19bSkRDNCDAu1PGIpWlYW3AVf-8wzNwLvb9BlmxVWMGb6XFpw6YvM1jEUNWrCjA8a_0Ig/s2048/VPD1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1632" data-original-width="2048" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuu8jXq6h_gu4P99xePqSQGdb-R2VjLVTR7M46YUfw5c9_mueWFspxBChBAzNwNzyJ3CwoTP6k36S4za0P4xsjZ0cNpPHD-fEU02WyEYsoigkuzknYoa19bSkRDNCDAu1PGIpWlYW3AVf-8wzNwLvb9BlmxVWMGb6XFpw6YvM1jEUNWrCjA8a_0Ig/s320/VPD1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXhEkcuolpwloAVt11QcCXX_cn2eWNRhMRInI0mbT67sS1d-3A0tMwuWjeSg6tPUEg03DA0ASzDST60eeulKjvbgeLTOVk3jKd7f824yiSKVMk4ppb_9Ecaz5flElrW5Ibla7ASt_Kh9apKyGEBaHviRRVscPSjGGc5-X5LEWwUrFwGWPxTzx_I8/s2048/VPD2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1462" data-original-width="2048" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXhEkcuolpwloAVt11QcCXX_cn2eWNRhMRInI0mbT67sS1d-3A0tMwuWjeSg6tPUEg03DA0ASzDST60eeulKjvbgeLTOVk3jKd7f824yiSKVMk4ppb_9Ecaz5flElrW5Ibla7ASt_Kh9apKyGEBaHviRRVscPSjGGc5-X5LEWwUrFwGWPxTzx_I8/s320/VPD2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Arch of Vallon-Pont-d'Arc</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Bob had reserved Bungalow #32, which had the unique
advantage of being the only bungalow that racers would pass by 2 times on every
lap – both on an out and a back, and also the only one right on the
course. We had one other roommate – a Spaniard
named Jose. We quickly learned that our
minimal grasp of American Spanish helped us not one iota in speaking with
Jose. Jose’s answer to our lack of
understanding was to speak faster. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We went to the local market where I bought a few bins for my
clothes and got everything arranged for easy access during the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We headed into the nearby town one more time
to take advantage of French restaurants before being held slave to the course
for the next 6 days.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJsG1hPry99o_eKg33yffg3cUn0UWCqD07bfUktoDv1rBkat7HDX7sI_ErnFRx0KoYkvne28BxjOUuWjfhT3XMAhpXweoX9oXEyAUr30WvTVRSX2G8cfrfBWT114XZMCRim5Fgg1EyO5PQXk7M7b_CVz0g4yffWkYCFiH-2pWhGUDQrv4mEZFmWJE/s2048/RaceFood3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJsG1hPry99o_eKg33yffg3cUn0UWCqD07bfUktoDv1rBkat7HDX7sI_ErnFRx0KoYkvne28BxjOUuWjfhT3XMAhpXweoX9oXEyAUr30WvTVRSX2G8cfrfBWT114XZMCRim5Fgg1EyO5PQXk7M7b_CVz0g4yffWkYCFiH-2pWhGUDQrv4mEZFmWJE/s320/RaceFood3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the carbs. The cereal had real chocolate in it.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQWzQx-oASTz83sFS5eVrpmInF50iYBu6MiM5e7uKGOCd-s0mAEFyoxxsvTh7UrXOLpJb3lOkih-GvOu01Q2mwnlSU28XZ5dJlVVVnhpJbwmuRaxSa_kdtMjgCXRuGUEIfnpW37XOxsj7ur8UEwHIFil-oie0XYo8dZ8lIJJqOhMopPIvxq3moWo/s2048/RaceFood2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQWzQx-oASTz83sFS5eVrpmInF50iYBu6MiM5e7uKGOCd-s0mAEFyoxxsvTh7UrXOLpJb3lOkih-GvOu01Q2mwnlSU28XZ5dJlVVVnhpJbwmuRaxSa_kdtMjgCXRuGUEIfnpW37XOxsj7ur8UEwHIFil-oie0XYo8dZ8lIJJqOhMopPIvxq3moWo/s320/RaceFood2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This brioche bread was da bomb</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8rd71Al5hNip9Yf5XfAA1hKUWN3LaD7gmEHm8SQqGngkOsesIqsY338OpRs9MzVEnFyu1NBV7ZVqI4ownIwh9ccKsfjRWgLljOZOoLjI4CuekgaB64ZCTQOacSoED8VsqijxMcnRfquL4HVk6sYHWFTWDuNkzC2SDApBVG_wI8SUkGmBq_995TY/s2048/RaceFood1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8rd71Al5hNip9Yf5XfAA1hKUWN3LaD7gmEHm8SQqGngkOsesIqsY338OpRs9MzVEnFyu1NBV7ZVqI4ownIwh9ccKsfjRWgLljOZOoLjI4CuekgaB64ZCTQOacSoED8VsqijxMcnRfquL4HVk6sYHWFTWDuNkzC2SDApBVG_wI8SUkGmBq_995TY/s320/RaceFood1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Europe knows how to do chips. Blue Cheese and Curry flavored.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I slept relatively late on Saturday morning, but even with a
late wake-up, we still had a bit of time to kill as the race didn’t start until
2pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, the race briefing
was at 11, so we couldn’t even take advantage of all of the morning time with
any sort of an outing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were grateful
that they held a separate English briefing for the 3 of us from the states,
plus the Brits and the New Zealander.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
addition to Bob and I, there was Ivo Majetic (world record holder for modern
time 6-day walking), Sandra and Richard Brown, Kathy Crilley, Adharanand Finn
from the UK, and Richard McChesney from New Zealand.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Soon enough, it was time to start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We lined up and shuffled around nervously,
and just like that, it was “go” time.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Starting a 6 day race is daunting at best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You really need to not think about the fact
that you will be out there for an unfathomably long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just tell myself I’m going to run for a couple
of hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day 1 was the most crowded, as
in addition to the 6 day racers, the course included the 24 and 48 hour
folks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I approached the first day with a new strategy – which was,
I couldn’t POSSIBLY go too slow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I picked
a few walk spots early on, as I’ve learned that this typically leads to stronger
running later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It also helps to avoid
the repetitive motion issues of constant running, and gives me a sense of
control of my pacing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My early laps were
all in the mid 11’s and felt smooth and easy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">20 miles in, I was feeling strong and confident, and optimistic
that maybe I could eek out my best 6 day yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of course, this is never anything you should be thinking on day 1 – but it
was a testament to how good my body felt at that point.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 1 got me to my planned mileage of 95, and included some
sleep time after mile 80 or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went
into Day 2 feeling strong and cautiously optimistic.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My mileage goal for day 2 was 76 miles – but some time
during the middle of day 2, my plantar fasciitis started to act up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was getting
uncomfortable cramping in the arches of my foot, along with some stabbing pains
that threatened to possibly derail my progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Having been taken out of Spartathlon by an acute PF issue at
mile 23, I had come prepared for this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
ducked into the bungalow and used the PF taping technique that allows me to
continue to run and actually do some rehabbing of the issue at the same time.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">By the end of day 1 and into probably day 3 or so, I was 1<sup>st</sup>
woman, and occasionally hanging out at 2<sup>nd</sup> overall, behind Bob.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next woman behind me was a woman named
Francoise Benet, who was running strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Heading back out on to the course with the tape, the PF
improved pretty quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, hours
later, I started feeling pain out the outside of my right knee (the same side
where the foot was taped).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My theory is
that although the tape helps the PF, it also affects my gait in such a way that
puts added stress on that knee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 182
miles, I had to take some significant time off course because running had
become too painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided to just
rest for a few hours to see if things improved.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I took some ibuprofen, elevated the feet and went to sleep
for a couple of hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I woke up, I
put on a pair of shoes I hadn’t yet worn, higher drop Hokas, and to my
amazement, my run was back and the knee was manageable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Days 1 and 2, the weather was close to perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The daytime highs were about 65, and the sky
was sunny with big puffy clouds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d put
the lows in the low 50’s to high 40’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The sun was intense, but on those first couple of days, it was balanced
by some pretty strong and steady winds – sometimes up to about 20 mph.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day 3, the daytime started to warm up a bit,
and by mid-day it was distinctly uncomfortable.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 3 saw steady running and walking, but also steady
erosion of the lead that I had on the second woman. Every time she passed me,
her run looked incredibly strong, and based on the lap times I saw, she was
clearly running faster than me when she was moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started to get more and more stressed,
seeing the lead slip steadily away from me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At some point that day, I made a conscious decision to let my focus on
maintaining the lead go, and just focus on having as much fun as it is possible
to have when you are running for 6 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I asked myself “what would I do if I were running for fun instead of to
win”? <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have a massage,
for 1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get some ice cream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Take pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Talk to people. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And this is what I did.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWjulW16SpR2NrTkykZBHLBa2NumuNIhdItmnneYF3VmSAkskHsESoPzrZuRb-nIywMt4pvZZNepFbe-e6Ov5O24KY7IeruzOI4CSVMO8VK1KSai1lgu0dTgzeYvcoP8Vn-rzJ519_2NyX7zVghXZGl_WXTvjcil_6eWynsBE332Y5WSXwMIjSXew/s2048/AmyLaura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWjulW16SpR2NrTkykZBHLBa2NumuNIhdItmnneYF3VmSAkskHsESoPzrZuRb-nIywMt4pvZZNepFbe-e6Ov5O24KY7IeruzOI4CSVMO8VK1KSai1lgu0dTgzeYvcoP8Vn-rzJ519_2NyX7zVghXZGl_WXTvjcil_6eWynsBE332Y5WSXwMIjSXew/s320/AmyLaura.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ivo's wife Laura was a godsend.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I saw Laura – Ivo’s wife – and told her of my new approach,
while I flopped down happily on the ground, inordinately pleased with
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She quickly agreed to help me
with my plan and offered to check with the campground spa as to whether I could
get in for a massage that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did an
easy couple of laps in an entirely different headspace until she got back to me
and said that they didn’t have any room until the next day (which she booked on
my behalf).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, she offered to give
me a massage herself AND make me a salad.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bliss.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Laura got a cot set up in the shade, and it was heaven to
just lie there face down as she worked some magic on my legs and feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Afterwards, I ran another couple of easy laps
while she made me a gigantic salad with all of the good things – tuna, cheese,
lettuce, nuts, apples…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the best thing
about it was that it wasn’t the pure “carb” diet that tends to make up race
food.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This physical and mental break gave me an enormous mood
boost, and I headed back out on the course a new woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My run felt strong again, and I had the
newfound knowledge that I just needed to focus on my OWN run – it was all I
could control – and I needed to not be driven by what anyone else was doing.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The rest of the race, largely, was happy, based on that
mindset turnaround – although there was still plenty of drama and pain to come.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was the first race I’ve ever been to where most of the
racers did not speak my language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
first few days were actually pretty lonely, as Bob was flying and didn’t have
time for conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our times in the
bungalow at that point were not intersecting, and he was dialed in to his pace
plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, there were a few runners
on the course who would reach out and say a few words… “comment ca va?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I learned to answer “Bien.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Et toi?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bernard was consistently supportive, encouraging “allez Amy” every time
I saw him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Valerie and I would exchange
nods and stilted conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d
always say hi to Jose, our Spanish roommate. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Also, the timer, Sebastien, was extremely supportive - he actually spoke English very well, and and provided a lot of clarity on what was going on. Sebastien reminded me of Mike Melton with the exception that I never saw him sleeping.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6pib8rIW_uhHQQiAm41SsZsn_Mks3sz2wbUnqiZcJgWe6S2MBt-PVz4aVwPrt23MnWVTDPMkkc-nguFNWmmnLArojFEqtASYrFYTSQc-2qbbZJIgj66yWUYofqovSuy_Xk28EG6GcIqUjJFUVXqKV1zi2YK6wujbDNp-008-RoVh7msjAKuzEjw/s2048/Sebastien.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6pib8rIW_uhHQQiAm41SsZsn_Mks3sz2wbUnqiZcJgWe6S2MBt-PVz4aVwPrt23MnWVTDPMkkc-nguFNWmmnLArojFEqtASYrFYTSQc-2qbbZJIgj66yWUYofqovSuy_Xk28EG6GcIqUjJFUVXqKV1zi2YK6wujbDNp-008-RoVh7msjAKuzEjw/s320/Sebastien.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new friend Sebastien</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> At one point in time I put out a plea on Facebook
to ask anyone who spoke English to call me.
I got calls from a few folks, including Ed Rudman, Diana Obermeyer and Ray K. These were wonderful, giving me a respite
from being in my own head. The race also
had a cool feature whereby spectators could send written messages. These were delivered to the racers by
volunteers, like mail, as you passed through the timing tent. I heard from Deb Sexton first, then Marie
Boyd and Chris Bellevie. All of those
messages and calls put a smile on my face.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Later in the race, I got to spend a bit of time talking to
Adharanand Finn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I recognized Finn because
a few years ago my father had gotten me a book Finn had authored, called “The
Rise of the Ultra Runners” (a great read, if you haven’t read it!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was Finn’s first multi-day and he killed
it with close to 500K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was great fun
to chat with, and his wife Etta was lovely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was on course taking pictures to record Finn’s journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNfWN8fpYmIHXkZWF6-H3mOf8SOvVBzk-NDTvZXKWuAIXKrx8Z3mPvxhWnuyWaPgnagWqDgioWF4PdZUWx8m1NVYV76nRxD1fml1774iNuTSmPoKTikwMQrcDB_6_EQ4vf9wGriMYTSPglIrrlSaYA77IuRnhN1iLBZtMToWfNLZd_Ekx_R5GzGE/s499/FinnBook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUNfWN8fpYmIHXkZWF6-H3mOf8SOvVBzk-NDTvZXKWuAIXKrx8Z3mPvxhWnuyWaPgnagWqDgioWF4PdZUWx8m1NVYV76nRxD1fml1774iNuTSmPoKTikwMQrcDB_6_EQ4vf9wGriMYTSPglIrrlSaYA77IuRnhN1iLBZtMToWfNLZd_Ekx_R5GzGE/s320/FinnBook.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Read this if you get a chance!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I also want to say a quick note about the race food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is, this race actually had designated
meal times, where racers gathered in one spot to eat together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I had initially been shocked at the
idea of taking time off the course, very quickly these meals became something
to look forward to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The food was plentiful
and tasty (unless you were vegan or vegetarian, which I am not).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Casseroles loaded with meat and cheese,
lasagna, cheesy meaty potatoes, and sausages are some of the examples of the
meals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the dense calorie load
(or likely because of it), my pace always improved shortly after a meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The aid station food was also fabulous. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d highly recommend to all US race directors
that brie and baguettes be served, along with various charcuterie meats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> These salty</span> fat and proteins shots were great at providing energy boosts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was
also real orange juice, along with sparkling water (a favorite of mine, but
rarely found at US venues).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I finished day 3 with close to 60 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, day 4 saw another resurgence
of my knee issues, and I found myself doing mostly walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p>. Day 4 did mark the
start of what was a wonderful 2 day tradition – which was, homemade cheese
omelets in chez Bob and Amy with Finn and Etta as breakfast guests. In my newfound mental state where joy was
more important that running every last minute, on the morning of day 4 I told
Bob I would make him a wonderful breakfast, and as soon as the camp store
opened, Laura went and got us cheese, eggs, and an onion. I fried up the onion and made an enormous
cheese omelet and we invited Adharanand, Etta, and Laura over to join us. We had brioche bread and jam with the
omelets, and for 15 minutes we enjoyed every comfort of civilization.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdsUzFkM1JBfks0WjRjGFP8FQZn6QWVJu5ip1zRm8zsHfnwUkz0r5i6G2aJpNZTlzn7znHFFu6cmKzCpFhJW8kBdLa45zf-h9GI6MbFBLT_TTrGE-UCOgYB9zAQq2Dc8BVUcLYxxGNk6ntvpOhcEB7p-WkVlu8k_6M_YL89VUHS3tVvCMvd6twIM/s2048/Omelet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdsUzFkM1JBfks0WjRjGFP8FQZn6QWVJu5ip1zRm8zsHfnwUkz0r5i6G2aJpNZTlzn7znHFFu6cmKzCpFhJW8kBdLa45zf-h9GI6MbFBLT_TTrGE-UCOgYB9zAQq2Dc8BVUcLYxxGNk6ntvpOhcEB7p-WkVlu8k_6M_YL89VUHS3tVvCMvd6twIM/s320/Omelet.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now, for some bizarre reason, when I lost 1<sup>st</sup>
place, I had thought that it would be pretty easy to maintain 2<sup>nd</sup>
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t really occur to me that
there were still THREE DAYS left in the race – and that anything could
happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ultra brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">With my low mileage day on day 4 (42.88 – the lowest of the
race) due to the walking and knee pain, I woke up from one of my naps to see
not 1, but 2 women who were close on my tail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fuck.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It quickly became clear to me that walking was not going to
cut it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Or, in the memorable words of
Bill Shultz in my 72 hour debut at ATY, “25 minute miles are NOT GOING TO CUT
IT!”).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Clearly, I had to pick up my game if I wanted any chance at
the podium.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So it was that I found myself truly “racing” the last 48
hours of this race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is to say,
giving it my all out effort, being on the course whenever I could be out there,
and running it as fast as I was able to maintain without blowing up.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now, you might say, it’s a race – and aren’t you supposed to
be doing that the WHOLE TIME?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in all
honesty, there are so many ups and downs in a 6 day, and motivation comes and
goes so much that, well, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
absolutely aren’t racing the whole time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes you are doing other important things, like…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>learning French, by doing Duolingo lessons on
your phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or whateverthefuck you have
to do to keep your mind off of the fact that you have been out here for DAYS already,
and you still have DAYS to go.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But – now it is only 48 hours to go and I’m running my
little heart out, and employing every tool in my toolbox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of which is to head to the med tent and
have them apply KT tape to my knee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why it
had not occurred to me earlier to get some type of physical intervention for
this issue is beyond me – but these are the things that slip your mind when you
have been running for days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first
time I went to the med tent, the med guy tried to put on the tape, but it didn’t
stick due to lotion on my legs. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
looked at me with a look that just said<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Really?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably
6 hours later, I had gotten myself to the ladies room and scrubbed my legs so
the tape would adhere, and he applied it then.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Suddenly, my knee was manageable again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was critical to my racing in the last 48
hours. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sleep, speed and motivation were the other issues I needed
to handle during the last 48 hours, and the tools at my disposal were a careful
blending of sleep, caffeine intake, and really loud music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I couldn’t rely on coffee alone to keep me up – but jolt of caffeine
in combination a 20 minute power nap was a powerful thing, and generally got me
a solid couple of hours of running before I crashed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The middle of the night was hard for the
sleepies, so I went to my loudest, grungiest playlist, cranked to 11, to keep
me moving. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There was a special couple of hours on night 5 where I was
completely in the zone. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like it
was just me, running a singular perfect run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The music was pulsing and, at my steady 15 minute miles, I felt like I
was flying… run the flats and downs, walk the ups, run, walk, and when a song
with a great beat came on (there were lots), the walks were strong, with
purpose, arms swinging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I’d
sing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Loudly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I was very happy.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thus it was that day 5 handed me 60.45 miles versus the
almost 43 of day 4, and I was feeling strong and steady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And at 2pm on Thursday, race day 6 dawned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was that magic time of the race where the
end is in sight, and you are almost (ALMOST) not wanting it to end.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I kept on keeping on, all afternoon of Day 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had some exciting entertainment promised
that evening – Karaoke!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of the
runners were asked if they wanted to participate, and if so, which song they
were going to sing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Laura Majetic
proposed that she and I do a duet, and I was looking forward to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Another magical aspect of this race – most nights,
during and after the dinner meal there was live music playing on a stage by
where we dined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if you<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>didn’t hang out and watch the bands, which,
of course, you couldn’t do if you were racing, you could hear the music all the
way across the course).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After what seemed like too many hours to wait, it was
finally dinner and karaoke time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bob was
queued up first, and his song was (perfection), Cake’s “The Distance”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
started with a jaunty swagger and it only got better – he was dancing and chanting
the words and the crowd was going wild.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I videoed the entire thing for him to send to Liz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Laura and I were up next, and we did a harmonized version of
the Indigo Girls’ “Closer to Fine”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going
back and listening to the recording, I can hear that I’m a bit off key – my voice
took a bit of a beating from 5 days of mouth breathing – but all and all,
considering we hadn’t ever practiced singing together, thanks to Laura’s gift
of harmonizing, we pulled it off and it wasn’t half bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it was LOADS of fun.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I may have lost a mile or 2 to the karaoke, but it was worth
every lost minute by the joy it brought me in anticipation, during, and after.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The end of karaoke brought us to sunset and the beginning of
the last night – always a special time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At this point in the race, Francoise was probably less than 10K ahead of
me and Edith was about 20K behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
felt relatively confident in my ability to hold steady in 2<sup>nd</sup> place
to the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Darkness fell, and I dug in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hours from 8-11 were often highly
productive in that runners weren’t completely exhausted yet from a sleep
perspective, and the daytime temperature had cooled down so that it was
comfortable but not too cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
previous nights, both Francoise and Edith had gone to bed not long after 11.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Edith, I’d observed, had longer periods of
sleep, while Francoise seemed to get by on 4 hours or less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At this point, my biggest focus was on not losing second
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had already resigned myself
that winning was not likely, but Edith, in 3<sup>rd</sup> place, still had a
stronger run pace than mine, so I just needed to stay strong enough to not let
her overtake me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">By 11:00, neither one of them was sleeping yet, although the
course was getting more deserted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
dismayed to find that although it felt strong, my run was abysmally slow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt my best bet was to get off the course
and take a 20 minute power nap, have some caffeine, and get back out there and
power through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew I’d lose a couple of
laps to the other women with the nap, but I felt that I needed the respite to
regain strength to run again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The nap did wonders – I had taken ibuprofen and had some caffeine
before I went to sleep, so the 20 minute rest with my feet up paid off in spades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got out there and cranked my music as high
as it would go and I rode the wave.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I noticed on my first post-nap lap that Francoise had gone
to bed, although Edith had not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
stuck to my forever pace, making sure not to go so fast that I’d burn out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One lap, two laps, three laps, and then…
somehow, I was back up to first woman on the leaderboard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was still worried about Edith – she hadn’t gone to sleep
yet and there was every chance she could be planning on staying up for as much
of the night as she was able.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certainly
I would have had I been in her position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, there was nothing I could do about her choices – all I could do was
keep moving forward, which is what I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And, at some point in the wee hours of the morning, Edith went to bed as
well, and I was just banking miles.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All too early, I saw that Francoise was back out on the
course and running fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was clocking
laps at a steady 10:30 pace, while I was bringing them in closer to 12 or 13
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite my 10K lead, you didn’t
have to be a math major to know that I either needed to speed up, or else at
some point in the next 13 hours she was going to pass me… <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it was just a question of when.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I tried one last desperate measure of another shot of caffeine
to see if it would get me moving any faster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It did, marginally, but at a cost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whether it was the caffeine, or the all out effort I’d been exerting for
the past 36 hours or so, all of a sudden I needed the restroom pretty much
every lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Additionally, every time I
stopped moving, I felt that awful heart pounding dizziness you get when you
realize you’ve had one too many cups of coffee (or, say, a Monster energy drink
on top of 4 cups of coffee).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
feeling physically pretty strung out.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At some point in the wee hours of the morning, the gas just
ran out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stumbled into the bungalow
and posted something on Facebook about not being able to sustain the pace, and
crashed for another 20 minutes in an anesthesia-like stupor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew, at that point, the lead was gone –
and I was OK with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really felt I
had thrown everything I had at it, and at the end of the day, Francoise had
more in the tank than I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And that’s all you can do.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I got back out there after that second power nap, I
dialed back the pace to something that was once again sustainable, and just
focused on maintaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was tired,
happy, and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>content.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although there were probably still 10 hours
left in the race, effectively the places had been determined, assuming we all
kept moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Edith woke up in the early hours of the morning, and hit the
course like a bat out of hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her laps looked
astoundingly strong – 9:30 – 10 minute pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, she was 30 laps behind me, and although I had an uncomfortable
couple of laps thinking 2<sup>nd</sup> place was in jeopardy, I did the math
and it didn’t add up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As long as I just
kept moving, it was incredibly unlikely she’d pass me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morning dawned, and for the first time in the race, it was foggy
and misty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day prior had been
bright sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fog lent a somber air of
mystery and solemnity to the course but kept it blissfully cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In all of the other 6 day races I’ve been in, the start and
end time was 9am, so sunrise meant there were only a few hours left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one didn’t end until 2pm, which seemed
impossibly far away.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sometime around 10, I happened upon Francoise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were both, by this point, walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She came up to me and we hugged, and then she
put her arm around me and we walked together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>With 4 hours left, the race was, effectively, done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the language barrier, and largely thanks
to Francoise’s limited English with the help of Google translate, we were able
to learn an amazing amount about each other on those very special laps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew she was close to my age, and a grandmother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We talked about work, and the race, and
running, and some other nonconsequential things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At some point I realized we were really
lollygagging, and I suggested we run. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
I ran with her, I saw that one of the reasons she had been such a natural in
this format is because her run was super slow and easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had a short, light cadence, with a moving
speed of probably a 13 minute mile, which, at that point, was lightning fast –
however, it was slower than my run speed when I ran – which was probably why it
had been more sustainable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a multi-day
natural, for sure.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPC_Q0n7lt0JkY8SYLvbig4p-fINimeN0kUhmz8iu8zlIxyTOk8HmXsQKjmwkiT1rO0arIvqc8_ZZ-7hepKDR6RAHLejxcp84yKLFqgglrPSPG4BYnivmV_uNumpqAkG09DmSp24l3h0dU3dPQghVxGPj5yylpZQUa5hFjnA7vwumC13bFYESm6k4/s2048/AmyFrancoise3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPC_Q0n7lt0JkY8SYLvbig4p-fINimeN0kUhmz8iu8zlIxyTOk8HmXsQKjmwkiT1rO0arIvqc8_ZZ-7hepKDR6RAHLejxcp84yKLFqgglrPSPG4BYnivmV_uNumpqAkG09DmSp24l3h0dU3dPQghVxGPj5yylpZQUa5hFjnA7vwumC13bFYESm6k4/s320/AmyFrancoise3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Francoise - last day - photo courtesy of Edith Doyen</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gvmdTLuG56uoyHpKg32xXLvdLHTJg3i2rw3HmpguP6cSDGII-hkVLeHPyIcMkRGqSNRFwiyMF6GriX50hMOiHNPsRvpCf7UQztOFsa5Yt5xmNFrblkkwPwg7hc7sBXWQXuwJx6CotTmIWdiY4Y74awR0zZfcNRIDIP89dwjweu7Ev6DOrcN3JZM/s2048/AmyRunning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gvmdTLuG56uoyHpKg32xXLvdLHTJg3i2rw3HmpguP6cSDGII-hkVLeHPyIcMkRGqSNRFwiyMF6GriX50hMOiHNPsRvpCf7UQztOFsa5Yt5xmNFrblkkwPwg7hc7sBXWQXuwJx6CotTmIWdiY4Y74awR0zZfcNRIDIP89dwjweu7Ev6DOrcN3JZM/s320/AmyRunning.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running! Photo courtesy of Edith Doyen</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcc0I-5UFKAXi4KpOpyliXxeDb2aOo3bn7qMRSuCyHQqWLi83Tuk-NIFup660FRHnZAn39pCDvABzmX4c4G25X4EWK6qv4pKGyOqHRqO4blULbaAPcSPiWWVjrrj62UrFTSJG5U6--yh6I6FUVkK0DqVLdlT4hJ7lmR6t397XK5XjjauGkPPntpxI/s2048/FrancoiseAndHubby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcc0I-5UFKAXi4KpOpyliXxeDb2aOo3bn7qMRSuCyHQqWLi83Tuk-NIFup660FRHnZAn39pCDvABzmX4c4G25X4EWK6qv4pKGyOqHRqO4blULbaAPcSPiWWVjrrj62UrFTSJG5U6--yh6I6FUVkK0DqVLdlT4hJ7lmR6t397XK5XjjauGkPPntpxI/s320/FrancoiseAndHubby.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Francoise and her husband</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I met her husband during those laps, and he took a picture
of us. At one point, we also saw Edith,
and she took a picture of the 3 of us. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2JW_ArpPq--b33sF0Vy4jsbWs3Zh9etKYgA7liVTml9IWgXNSJWTV9Qr1f19FOzf81rgbxVAQ9E7CnamSeh0DTlQPLYimXsG24AEKHYPZUKqGO41o-pvoMiLhcSDh7LjxIxWLVFG7OL2l5t1kJRByQ4Z1X7jPs8SGCyT4FmeCHUbwuVbI8GE6bcM/s2048/Top3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2JW_ArpPq--b33sF0Vy4jsbWs3Zh9etKYgA7liVTml9IWgXNSJWTV9Qr1f19FOzf81rgbxVAQ9E7CnamSeh0DTlQPLYimXsG24AEKHYPZUKqGO41o-pvoMiLhcSDh7LjxIxWLVFG7OL2l5t1kJRByQ4Z1X7jPs8SGCyT4FmeCHUbwuVbI8GE6bcM/s320/Top3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top 3 - photo courtesy of Edith Doyen<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>After a few laps with Francoise, I broke off and hopped into my bungalow for a snack, and headed back out walking again. My knee was really nagging me – it was taped, but angry – and both running and walking were pretty uncomfortable. At that point, I was still in 4<sup>th</sup> place overall – Patrick Ruiz (who had run in solid 2<sup>nd</sup> place for days, but had fallen back to 5<sup>th</sup>) was behind me by 1-2 laps – however, his walk was faster than mine. At one point, he stopped to talk to me and told me that he wasn’t going to pass me – that he wanted me to keep 4<sup>th</sup> place. Which was super sweet of him – but I told him he should run his own race.<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">2 hours prior to finish, he and I were pretty even, and he
came up with a plan to stay together, and finish exactly together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wanted to finish with another runner,
Christian, who had ALSO been second place male for a while, but was now 2 laps
behind us – so at some point not too far from the end, Patrick and I just went
and hung out on the porch of his bungalow, waiting for Christian to catch
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW17Z7CClcVUqrM68Wdja3Nd0I33giZEbb-v3a-jkPVdRAg8g2WMDZtckxouDZ26uJe-5rz_Yb3liM1ky9_O8E97d8S6FGYSgbw1qcskhpnCaNgwuLr76Wtp4cF8u6VMpQhegYDh8w5e2aUAgOXDuxavyasuSeBS-v7CYEjeKpJW-qiLQEsw0EPtU/s2048/CostumedRunners.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW17Z7CClcVUqrM68Wdja3Nd0I33giZEbb-v3a-jkPVdRAg8g2WMDZtckxouDZ26uJe-5rz_Yb3liM1ky9_O8E97d8S6FGYSgbw1qcskhpnCaNgwuLr76Wtp4cF8u6VMpQhegYDh8w5e2aUAgOXDuxavyasuSeBS-v7CYEjeKpJW-qiLQEsw0EPtU/s320/CostumedRunners.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some costumed runners</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormal">These last couple of hours on the course were really nothing
about racing, and all about bonding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
was an air of celebration and camaraderie as we approached the finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few runners were still running strong – but
most of us were done, and just doing celebration laps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Christian finished his catch-up laps,
Patrick and I joined him, and we headed out for the last full lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Herve and a few other runners were running in
costume, and we did some selfies with them as we ambled around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We passed the timing mat, and then continued
on to finish our partial lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few
hundred meters into the lap, we stopped and lined up our ankle chips exactly
together, so when you look at the clock finish, you will see me, Patrick and Christian
– overall 4,5 and 6, with the exact same mileage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d officially clocked 632.55 km – or about
393 miles.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOeM3tCA4x_TjiXsz_EK0kGEc2bmv04t24IZyEb1trow5daWIgUNh0GMUvKWruSVSwzyLJ-h3fOsqH8VVydWAjrSzqsgW7rkh8QF3OEpOvc-ZTuARoCjSITXtPU-s3G4MBAUpSbocv0bo1zeBf1qO0AeP3NMhT0ASkVHnE3txUEVj5k0-VFqUE2nY/s2048/AmyPatrickChristian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOeM3tCA4x_TjiXsz_EK0kGEc2bmv04t24IZyEb1trow5daWIgUNh0GMUvKWruSVSwzyLJ-h3fOsqH8VVydWAjrSzqsgW7rkh8QF3OEpOvc-ZTuARoCjSITXtPU-s3G4MBAUpSbocv0bo1zeBf1qO0AeP3NMhT0ASkVHnE3txUEVj5k0-VFqUE2nY/s320/AmyPatrickChristian.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy, Patrick and Christian at finish<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And the race was over.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There were tears.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There were hugs.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There was palpable joy and shared celebration. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It really didn’t matter how many laps anyone had done
individually because we had all been out there pushing ourselves to do our
best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWXNwtly_6s49l_HfB5gZlgNm-xhvjw4o6yy1RmalWYQI_OipM225sxyIM18wYSk7tZWfN_F-j9lCwXv849huod5kLOEJUy4z7hf9L-7Zm_wm-24gJ3NoaNewdz-EsZnfRH52l3mxEDz23YEq3hvCgKzS7zYrUruebxSZD2qBIJ3qADBNxPJWhNM/s2048/BobFinalLap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWXNwtly_6s49l_HfB5gZlgNm-xhvjw4o6yy1RmalWYQI_OipM225sxyIM18wYSk7tZWfN_F-j9lCwXv849huod5kLOEJUy4z7hf9L-7Zm_wm-24gJ3NoaNewdz-EsZnfRH52l3mxEDz23YEq3hvCgKzS7zYrUruebxSZD2qBIJ3qADBNxPJWhNM/s320/BobFinalLap.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob running his victory lap</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And so it was that my 4<sup>th</sup> 6-day race – second to
last in terms of overall miles – was probably both the most exciting, as well
as the most well executed (barring my first).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The fact that I was (significantly) stronger on days 5 and 6 than day 4
spoke to me about how much these events rely on dealing with whatever is thrown
at you, with the best strategy you can come up with, and moving forward.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My splits were as follows:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 1 – 95.6 miles (plan on target)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 2 – 72.4 (plan close to target)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 3 – 58.34 miles (falling off cliff)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 4 – 42.88 miles – pretty much all walking (walking on
the floor of the chasm into which I’d fallen)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 5 – 60.45 miles (Better!)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 6 – 63.41 miles (Whoa!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not too shabby for a day 6).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">OK – so – a ways off plan – but not a bad comeback.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am… quietly happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
a while, those little voices are held at bay… the ones that say “you are not enough.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like the fiery bird tattooed on my right
shoulder blade, I have passed again through the flames and have come through a
raw, new thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Rebirth is a gift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is up to me to figure out what to do with it.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XO1bDXvFOO_20a1c_nGSd5l15_NUhIwMDLXWvZnys_IOafHnkccZtTWQ1twXGdoH-zAnTPWxt1iRP-ODfP3DKuJ3g16bpaJWI0SDKq3Y2zBru0kjEdzKJigVqxaB66Se3kuaunJ9HKoIrm8yIVmKOMzOVnabuMPhsTb3SZF_o7cK9gOv7hE7f68/s2048/AmyBobTrophy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XO1bDXvFOO_20a1c_nGSd5l15_NUhIwMDLXWvZnys_IOafHnkccZtTWQ1twXGdoH-zAnTPWxt1iRP-ODfP3DKuJ3g16bpaJWI0SDKq3Y2zBru0kjEdzKJigVqxaB66Se3kuaunJ9HKoIrm8yIVmKOMzOVnabuMPhsTb3SZF_o7cK9gOv7hE7f68/s320/AmyBobTrophy.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Bob - he with his 1st place and I with my second.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOIGamlGDbL7DJX3qFR2gOggWpu7AAQKLRPmzyVrTK6DvsgRAVm2QoHiHKINIratRuT-DD4qp3mTltykuO-7CslqWvJBUADiAMk4O1_0BHGWQ14tSAS5K5say4ATKIiLOZFRCs0F_0hhfDea8JSZ_kV-aFxUfBJUbcYCIt3ealqCS_joRrVJ3bkA/s2048/AmyBobBrowns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOIGamlGDbL7DJX3qFR2gOggWpu7AAQKLRPmzyVrTK6DvsgRAVm2QoHiHKINIratRuT-DD4qp3mTltykuO-7CslqWvJBUADiAMk4O1_0BHGWQ14tSAS5K5say4ATKIiLOZFRCs0F_0hhfDea8JSZ_kV-aFxUfBJUbcYCIt3ealqCS_joRrVJ3bkA/s320/AmyBobBrowns.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Bob with Sandra and Richard Brown</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-17496307157678499452022-02-23T14:24:00.004-08:002022-02-23T16:39:54.661-08:00Jackpot 48 hour. How much do you want it?<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Another 48-hour race is in the books. Not my best, not my worst. Which, I realized, is just fine. It is what MOST races are going to be,
outside of those select few magic races where everything goes your way.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This one wasn’t that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I came into this race just 6 weeks off of a 6-day
effort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone who’s done a 6-day knows
that they require much recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mine
was particularly tough, as I had an almost debilitating case of PF by the end
of the 6-day that I have been vigorously rehabbing since the end of that
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In the days and weeks p</span>rior to Jackpot, I was still
experiencing regular residual heel pain and went into the race concerned that
it could be a race killer. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Still, I ALSO came off of the 6-day race with a renewed
faith in myself as a multi-day runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’ve all been through COVID Year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And COVID Year the Sequel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neither
one of those did anything good for my racing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nor had a DNF at my last 48 hour, plus a DNF at Spartathlon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Still,</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have had a few wins this past year, including Angry Owl 24 hour, and Silver
Moon 100 miler; just had a 3<sup>rd</sup> place finish at Jed Smith, and
recording my second fastest marathon ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So I knew I still had some good running in me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Part of my problem mentally is the astounding success I saw
just a couple of years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That year,
which included a 453 mile 6-day, a 202 mile 48-hour, and a successful
Spartathlon finish, set a bar for success in my head that I really may never
achieve again, given the changes that have occurred with my body and my energy
as a 53 year old post-menopausal runner. Which means that regular solid
performances that I would have been thrilled with prior to my best year now feel
to me like failures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is hard, when
you still have big goals, to realize that your best running days may be behind
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is even harder when your racing
window is so short.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t even start
doing ultras until 2015, but saw success relatively quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sort of feels like my racing performance
graph is like the Omicron surge bell curve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Quick up, quick down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It means that if I’m going to keep doing these races, I need
to re-find what drove me before the thrill of an outstanding performance. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So – Jackpot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This would
be my 3<sup>rd</sup> time running this race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The first time got me my second best 48-hour performance and the overall
win with 190 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second got me a spectacular
DNF, curled up in a fetal position on the cool cool concrete by the culvert trying
to escape a brutally hot and draining day, walking away with only 41 miles
under my belt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I did go on a beautiful
solo hike to Red Rock Canyon the next day, so the trip was by no means a
complete loss).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time, I was HOPING
for big numbers, but in all honesty just wanted to escape the lure of the cool
culvert and stay on the course, whatever the day brought me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Jackpot is in the Nevada desert, not far from Vegas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From a tourist perspective, it’s great, with
Vegas and Red Rock Canyon nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From a
runner perspective, well – it is desert running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which means that for about 4-5 hours out of
any 24, (6 if you’re lucky), you get temps that are JUST RIGHT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otherwise, it is either too hot, or too cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Conversation with myself:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“God it’s hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God it’s hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wish the sun would go down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When is the fucking sun going to go down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ahhhh, thank God, the sun is going down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit this is
cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good god DAMN it’s cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m fucking freezing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I need to run more to stay warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When is the fucking sun going to come
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah thank god, the sun is coming
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>OK this is nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shit I’m getting warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God damn it’s hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That sun is brutal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
even RUN it’s so hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am literally
melting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My castle for a milkshake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When is the fucking sun going to go down….” And so on.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The other thing about Jackpot is Elvis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And showgirls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is plenty of fun to be had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are several races going on at once, so
you get to cross paths with the USATF 100-mile runners as well as the 72 hour,
24 hour, and 12 hour runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgboF5lbcN3TAoOhdkl_RZCa2n1Atrs_d-NJjN6EJRxm5Sv7LJHaVZdvC6GCTFrUuO__aL_6ZdTg8LFytT-mnOgUOVQztRFsxqRI4Ta2oVr7f7Clk6oH8tWcC_jqqshRWk-iRzE66_3XIB829zghBUg5DsqF820NDUWFcfWON8eGzzacuAv2mX1sCQ=s600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgboF5lbcN3TAoOhdkl_RZCa2n1Atrs_d-NJjN6EJRxm5Sv7LJHaVZdvC6GCTFrUuO__aL_6ZdTg8LFytT-mnOgUOVQztRFsxqRI4Ta2oVr7f7Clk6oH8tWcC_jqqshRWk-iRzE66_3XIB829zghBUg5DsqF820NDUWFcfWON8eGzzacuAv2mX1sCQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">BJ had driven into Vegas and arrived early Thursday
morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I flew in from Santa Rosa with,
thankfully, relatively little delay, and arrived late afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the plane to Vegas, I sat next to a
gentleman who started talking to me about my trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had told him I was flying in for a race,
and we started talking about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns
out this guy had participated in a world record attempt for playing softball
longer than anyone – 56 hours, it turned out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He said…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“it’s all about how much
you want it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Truer words were never said.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I saw the man one more time, heading to baggage claim in
Vegas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He leaned in and whispered “how
much do you want it?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">BJ picked me up at the airport and we checked into our
swanky hotel on the strip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ended up staying
at the Paris hotel, as it was geographically where I wanted to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right across from the Bellagio light show,
and down just a few blocks from the Venetian – but not as pricey as either of
those.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I love that light show.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We went out in search of dinner shortly after our arrival,
wandering down the nicer end of the strip. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We tried the Bellagio first, because I really
wanted to check out the buffet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns
out the buffet was only open for breakfast/brunch, and had closed at 3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We threw some money in the slots before
heading back out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I, of course, was thinking that every single restaurant we
saw should be our next stop (I was kinda food focused), but BJ wanted to show
me the Venetian, and the really cool shopping section he remembered from a
previous trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, after passing by such
goodies as Giada, Gordon Ramsey’s steakhouse, and Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville,
we arrived at the Venetian and made our way up the moving bridge-like walkways
into the center of the complex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which
was truly magnificent for anyone who is as thrilled with Disney-esque eye candy
as I was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ceilings were painted realistically
to look like an outdoor sky, and there was a canal complete with gondoliers running
through the middle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We happened upon an
Italian place BJ remembered from his last trip and had an excellent meal with
lots of bread and homemade pasta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We turned
down the restaurant dessert in favor of nearby gelato.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heading back to the hotel, we first stopped
at “It’s Sugar” where I spent a blissful 20 minutes filling up my variety candy
bag, and then arrived back at the hotel casino where we only lost a modest
amount of cash in the slots before a good night’s sleep.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It is a rare thing that I sleep in until 8, but that is just
what I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was disconcerting and
wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The worst thing about staying in a Vegas strip hotel is that
none of them have coffee makers, forcing you to pull on clothes and wander
bleary-eyed down to the restaurant area where you can pay a king’s ransom for a
cup of joe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>($15 for one coffee and one
hot chocolate.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that if we were going to ever get to
the Bellagio buffet, it had to be for Friday morning brunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner would be too close to my race for any
sort of respectable gorging, and there would be no time afterwards between the
race end and my flight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So off to the
Bellagio we went again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> A boatload of dough</span> down for
breakfast for 2 including tip got us the works. It is kind of impossible to
describe this buffet, but the things I remember include a carving station
complete with prime rib, an omelet station, pancakes, waffles, french toast,
sushi, oysters Rockefeller, mussels in white wine and garlic sauce, mac &
cheese, bacon, all sorts of sausages, cheeses, mushrooms, yogurt, polenta with
beef marrow, fruit of all sorts, juices of all sorts, a pizza bar, a Chinese food
buffet, shrimp, blintzes, crepes, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>pastries
of all sorts, mini donuts, puddings, a dessert section (cookies, mini pecan
pie, mini chocolate peanut butter tarts), and gelato.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I paced myself well and ended up with a total
of 4 plates.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjLiGg_YGc_IXFisA5DcOi4whsfagk9wIn_PmF4cRO1FnPopkyowr_DFiH4KajWLlWiMV1oXCr_toLS2M1GuxH8xgmFrHGFy2Rcu5psQiYNR-bNMNqOM-vnC7jacDa5m_a1T1hGKD4eV2ghLVWym46ij71gea4IxeZlBJS-2k1Pmx5A7aGE9aR6dc=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjLiGg_YGc_IXFisA5DcOi4whsfagk9wIn_PmF4cRO1FnPopkyowr_DFiH4KajWLlWiMV1oXCr_toLS2M1GuxH8xgmFrHGFy2Rcu5psQiYNR-bNMNqOM-vnC7jacDa5m_a1T1hGKD4eV2ghLVWym46ij71gea4IxeZlBJS-2k1Pmx5A7aGE9aR6dc=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Next stop was Caesar’s palace, where I was told the cocktail
waitresses all had short white dresses and thick thighs just like the roman
statue babes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This I wanted to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas the cocktail waitresses were in short
supply – we only saw one and her legs were really thin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, there was some great statuary and a
circular escalator, so it was a win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Onward to the “Bodies” exhibit at Bally’s, followed a really cool ride
called “Flyover” which was a virtual reality ride that made you feel as if you
were truly flying over Iceland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No trip
to Vegas is complete without a visit to the various chocolate and candy
shops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had loads of fun filling up my
bag at the M&M store and “It’s sugar” (where they had a $150 gummy
snake).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh my.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the best thing was…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew I was about to run for 2 days, so all
of this was just fuel for the furnace.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjespCrYfxBpaf6KtgLr5aZsAFbXozyExoSVcMaX7dn8D-oz7iq0zITfXeFQJryVp6x8iE0NJn9iNS5cWlW8syW0_ZiC5O0YiIGwlrNMmGqQN-aNMo93NnX4sTRzeSdkrU_8DI9oDTdUBOeH22lL1KdjysKu0pYnMzpbjgD9400XU-mKExTDMkLFTE=s600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjespCrYfxBpaf6KtgLr5aZsAFbXozyExoSVcMaX7dn8D-oz7iq0zITfXeFQJryVp6x8iE0NJn9iNS5cWlW8syW0_ZiC5O0YiIGwlrNMmGqQN-aNMo93NnX4sTRzeSdkrU_8DI9oDTdUBOeH22lL1KdjysKu0pYnMzpbjgD9400XU-mKExTDMkLFTE=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKsl-bX6FcjGc_QrS2-kRZ1zHIHE76Ov87NQgDnabliQT7bBIuRb8wl2vVgeYc8xiegrpTIBBoYUoa76wbBrU9-m4Tska-uUmEskfWGfKf24dh-8Z3U_rTLkKZy-BmUPQZnOsNyNszQkyeneKSu0y0URB3wKqX5hFlviUgYgbJaQnhtmY4cuhEwHk=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKsl-bX6FcjGc_QrS2-kRZ1zHIHE76Ov87NQgDnabliQT7bBIuRb8wl2vVgeYc8xiegrpTIBBoYUoa76wbBrU9-m4Tska-uUmEskfWGfKf24dh-8Z3U_rTLkKZy-BmUPQZnOsNyNszQkyeneKSu0y0URB3wKqX5hFlviUgYgbJaQnhtmY4cuhEwHk=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHeBFV4y0auGI_QlsCpy757KofkEi2c4JF0q415F0UFCzq8b_O1aUG5Uboc_x1ZsZJJ7RqpTafRRc_Pc2UOekqgzW8sh3mTdqZI1b-DZvMG036GtfJyl9_Dcn3ZsDF2VghqZS1gjzMT9ktPR1lBoxQbKR5q2_3fX_ns03S6klKTCw-LAyCnRs-X4E=s600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHeBFV4y0auGI_QlsCpy757KofkEi2c4JF0q415F0UFCzq8b_O1aUG5Uboc_x1ZsZJJ7RqpTafRRc_Pc2UOekqgzW8sh3mTdqZI1b-DZvMG036GtfJyl9_Dcn3ZsDF2VghqZS1gjzMT9ktPR1lBoxQbKR5q2_3fX_ns03S6klKTCw-LAyCnRs-X4E=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrejF8uJz9VLKOFO3JlioTEelFdhB1BY4LfHlWfwwtwS_x3fOzD3OOwbZrD7JGT-NzI1tYK6JSVZ0nJS_8a4UxvyeE9FfwtAO5jYGuSuF4UCxB5lDkj-UYD5wZhvU5867Us5iQTMXzpkzuU6cWmv2MVZ6pUlgr6iaof3grambEsNgMz3DxMyooBtM=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrejF8uJz9VLKOFO3JlioTEelFdhB1BY4LfHlWfwwtwS_x3fOzD3OOwbZrD7JGT-NzI1tYK6JSVZ0nJS_8a4UxvyeE9FfwtAO5jYGuSuF4UCxB5lDkj-UYD5wZhvU5867Us5iQTMXzpkzuU6cWmv2MVZ6pUlgr6iaof3grambEsNgMz3DxMyooBtM=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My buddy Rachel Entrekin arrived around 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a last minute add to the race and was
looking forward to surprising Jill with her arrival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ended up at Giordano’s for deep dish pizza,
followed by a little sugar splurge at “It’s Sugar” before heading back to the
hotel to finalize race preparations.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve done enough of these that I can usually sleep, but I didn’t
sleep well at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I was a bit
dehydrated from all the salt in dinner, so only managed a delayed and light sleep
all night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was groggy waking up, but
pretty much on auto-pilot with my clothes all laid out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our departure was pretty seamless, getting us
to the race venue about 55 minutes before race start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t feel like enough time but I got my
stuff in order as quickly as I could, and, feeling not quite ready, lined up
for the start.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And off we went.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are times where I dread the beginning of a race, but
as soon as I start running, I know why I do this and pretty quickly feel the
joy in motion.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was not that kind of race.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think the best thing you can say about the early hours is
that it was not TOO hot, and it was not TOO painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miles were consistent, in the low 11’s, which
is kind of a perfect starting out pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, they felt a little less easy than I would have preferred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">(how much do you want it?)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I ran without music for a few hours, just so I could talk to
people and not be stuck in my own world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At some point, I needed motivation, and stuck the tunes on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It helped make the time pass a little bit
faster.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The 2 times I’ve bailed from a 48 hour race were both between
40 and 50 miles, so I’d already put a plan into place to try to avoid that
scenario again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each time, I’d get to
about 8 hours or so, and the thought would occur to me of JUST how much LONGER
I had to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I wanted no part of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I told my brother, when I called
him up mid-bail during my last Jackpot…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This
is stupid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to be an ultra
runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just want to be a regular runner”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It truly is a “What the fuck am I doing out
here” moment – I’m not having any fun, and I could be doing something else for
the next 40 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ANYTHING else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To try to avoid this, I worked with my coach Shannon, who
advised me that “chunking” was really the only way to go in a long race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is to say… never (NEVER) focus on the
entire 48 hours in front of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Break
it up into manageable chunks, and just focus on getting through that
chunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t even THINK about the next
chunk.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I decided my chunks were going to be 6 hours long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also very pointedly did NOT set any mileage
goals for any of the chunks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were
merely mental time periods to click off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The reason I did this is that the OTHER reason I get discouraged around
hour 8 or 9 is that this is when I typically slow down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is almost invariably sooner than I feel like
I SHOULD slow down, so it triggers thoughts like “OMG.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was a 12 (12:30, 13, 14) minute
mile!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suck!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m never going to hit (whatever goal). “<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So another part of the chunking was to just
let my mileage be what it was going to be during that chunk, recognizing that
things could improve during the next chunk.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGhHeURaqQx2wvLhRAYG9FqibjO41ckpHgcux7lTJG8h6l6uim5xgSB-EP1BQpmZ-MZWwl0ytT6tsG1hU_r74PERDitL3bzkLKopFEG3KVOQIksPGp2A4obF9Kt3nHSVS3hVWQLPsXURdBAuFMvLpkMlt0e29B20RUBwtXj6k2FgwVvBF-XpR2geY=s720" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGhHeURaqQx2wvLhRAYG9FqibjO41ckpHgcux7lTJG8h6l6uim5xgSB-EP1BQpmZ-MZWwl0ytT6tsG1hU_r74PERDitL3bzkLKopFEG3KVOQIksPGp2A4obF9Kt3nHSVS3hVWQLPsXURdBAuFMvLpkMlt0e29B20RUBwtXj6k2FgwVvBF-XpR2geY=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running for a few minutes with Bruce Choi</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Considering I was able to get through 3 chunks, or roughly 18
hours, before I started experiencing anything close to the joy I often feel in
this sport, it was a good strategy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The ambient temperature was fortunately significantly cooler
than when I had been here last year in April, but the sun was blinding, the air
was dry and the course was dusty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Relatively early on I shed my shirt and ran in my jog bra, using ice
bandanas to stay cool enough to keep moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The challenge with the ice bandana and the jog bra was that my wet pack
was rubbing against my bare stomach, so I had to do some chafe management
before that got too bad.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">As almost always happens, during the speedier hot miles of day 1, I really couldn't eat much of anything. There were a couple of popsicles handed out during the race, and sometime later in the evening BJ went out and got me a large Dairy Queen milkshake that was finally something I could ingest comfortably.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">During the first 24 hours, I ended up taking 2 sleep
breaks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first was just a 20 minute power
nap probably shortly after midnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Probably not strictly necessary but the nerve pain in my feet and calves
was pretty uncomfortable and I just felt I needed to get off my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I moved pretty well after getting back on the
course, but not as quickly or strongly as I would have liked, so I decided on a
“for real” sleep of about 90 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is a new strategy for me in a 48, having relied previously on
severe sleep deprivation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had I really
been laser focused on a big number I probably would have foregone the longer
sleep – but I think I had already revised my goal for this race to get the
women’s win, as well as a regular Spartathlon qualifier (about 161.5 miles), so
I thought the sleep wouldn’t interfere with either of those goals.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">(how much do you want it?)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">From a “joy” perspective, the sleep was a good thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It helped with the mental “chunking” and
allowed me to go out feeling relatively refreshed. The joy finally arrived
somewhere close to early morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
temperature was comfortable enough with the right clothing, I was moving well,
the music was good, and I had 20 hours under my belt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t bailed at 8 hours, so I was pretty
sure I’d make it through the 48, and I was optimistic about the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I hit 100 miles just 15 seconds shy of 24 hours. For perspective, when I'd hit my PR of 202, I had 113 under my belt. However, this 100 in 24 was pretty close to my split for my 190 mile Jackpot.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZyI3AE3DEGt6IXrhd5VBFF8nGP0tKKPjU1jKzQ0TV3A-mmB9cOWEOSMEZLOh_Jl0u9c238Kx_LO5ufOqdW4v0iPkVhb9rWmISE29-4bBzHV4c11CxmxmKKnhAK4Ly0qdnRA1c116p2JL_FgzigsYwSsLH4-zkk7TzzvdRfL2szOiYncJbq4Orgrc=s2048" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZyI3AE3DEGt6IXrhd5VBFF8nGP0tKKPjU1jKzQ0TV3A-mmB9cOWEOSMEZLOh_Jl0u9c238Kx_LO5ufOqdW4v0iPkVhb9rWmISE29-4bBzHV4c11CxmxmKKnhAK4Ly0qdnRA1c116p2JL_FgzigsYwSsLH4-zkk7TzzvdRfL2szOiYncJbq4Orgrc=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hit 100 in 23:59:45</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">For anyone who's never run a multi-day, there there are things that happen that I always forget about.</p><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sometime many hours into running, things just start to get
weird.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, my entire midsection
gets rock hard and painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is kind
of like gas bubble pain but different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Like my entire abdomen just feels tender to the touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no idea what that is, but it happens
with regularity.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I often get anxiety and some dissociation – as if I don’t
know who I am.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">If the multi-day is in the sun, count on super chapped lips, followed generally by both thrush and/or a cold sore, no matter how well I treat my lips with sunscreen. 1-2 (sometimes more) post-race days of mouth pain are a given.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Nerve pain in my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This one is no big surprise when you are running big miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In this race, </span>I managed it with regular shoe changes, going
back and forth between my zero drop Altra Torins and my 5mm drop Hoka Machs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This plus the pre-race Plantar Fasciitis tape
job I did seemed to do an astoundingly good job of not only keeping the PF
manageable during day 1, but almost eliminating it during day 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered from my last desert Jackpot race how cracked
and painful my feet were at the end of the race due to the dryness, so I made
sure to liberally lube up my feet at the 24 hour mark to prevent the cracking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also did a good job of keeping my nails
short and lubed, so I had zero under-nail blistering, which also often happens.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I had some really really good miles early into day 2. I had some caffeine, some food and some ibuprofen. This brought me from my nighttime speed of
15-16 minute miles back down regularly into the 13:30’s, and a few in the 12’s. I’d say physically and mentally that was the
most joyous time of the race. I was
steady, the race was half over, I was comfortable and moving. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And then it got hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And everybody… EVERYBODY… was walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(Except Viktoria Brown.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BJ suggested
I might take advantage of the heat by taking my nap now instead of later – but I
wasn’t even a little bit sleepy, so it felt like that would just be wasted
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could get daytime miles in –
they would just be 18-20 minute miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was still throwing in some jogs when I could – but they were pretty
pitiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was just trying to get to
4:00, which I figured was the magic time when the temperature would improve enough
to start moving again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">(how much do you want it?)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">4:00 eventually came, as did cloud cover and a breeze that
brought the temperature back into some semblance of runnable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, I was only achieving 16-17 minute
miles and I didn’t know why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It occurred
to me that I was probably dehydrated, but no matter how much I drank (and I
drank enough for a worried BJ to demand I take some salt to avoid hyponatremia),
I just didn’t seem to get any faster.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">OK, well, whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Night 2 was much warmer than night 1, but also much
breezier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I passed the time for hours
listening to the Cultra Trailrunning podcast, where I actually heard them
talking about my ATY race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was kind
of a cool moment – to hear someone talking about my last race when I was smack
in the middle of my next one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The wind continued to worsen, making it hard at times to
move forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point, I had about
a 9 lap lead on the number 2 woman, which probably translated into about 20
miles, or a cushion of 5 or so hours assuming I was running nothing, and she
was moving at 15 minute miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, with
the discomfort of the wind, my slow pace, my general weariness of the whole
thing, and no real big mile goals at this point besides my 161.5, I went down
for another nap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured I could
safely be off course for an hour, and then I’d power through the rest of the
race.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">(how much do you want it?)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The wind, by this time, was howling and whipping the edges
of the tent we were fortunate enough to snag as an aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could hear things being blown over
nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was out like a light, and woke
up easily after 45 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The worst
thing about getting up from a nap at night is the instant cold when you take
the blankets off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going out into the
night and getting moving again is just about the hardest thing there is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, there was the joy in knowing that I
only had 4 hours left, and that I’d get to watch the sunrise again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I spent a bit of time with my new friend Luke – a trail
runner who was venturing into his first multi-day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His comment:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“man – I’m one and done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You guys
must really hate yourselves.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Got that right.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luke is a great guy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sunrise came, and the wind was still a force to be reckoned
with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The best thing about the Jackpot course is the birds on the
lake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe the entire park is a
bird sanctuary, so there were really interesting looking black ducks with white beaks, geese and other waterfowl just
birding around, having a great time in the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the sun started to come up, the lake was
dappled with pink and yellow ripples, punctuated by duck and goose calls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sunrise also highlighted a snowcapped
mountain in the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything was
soft, pink and beautiful. This is when the gratitude hits.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A couple of hours prior to the end of the race, it appeared
that 170 was in sight. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started walking
with my good friend Bala, grateful to finally have the chance to spend some
miles together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the best things
about multi-day races are those hours close to the end, where you have pretty
much done all you are going to do with regard to pushing, and you can relax and
enjoy the people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is impossible to do
that if you are spending every moment chasing a goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">(how much do you want it?)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bala and I walked, joined shortly by Jennifer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We crossed the timing mat 64 minutes before
the end of the race, and I saw I'd just hit 167.3 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At that point, our laps were probably about 45 minutes in length, as we
were doing about 20 minute miles and the course was 2.2 miles long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This meant that EITHER I’d end up with 169.5,
OR I’d have to bust ass and run faster than I’d run for the past 12 hours
during the last hour to break 170.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Michael Tatham, who assisted BJ in crewing me, let me know what the only
choice was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well – better get moving.”.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I can’t do it Michael.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s a 30 and a 34
minute lap.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes you can”.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Silence.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I turn to Bala, and said “I can’t do it!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She said… “well… then I guess this is our victory lap.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t sound all that proud of me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Grrr.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fine.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">(how much do you want it?)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I start running and tell Bala I’ll see her soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I run steady, maybe a quarter of a mile (more continuous running mileage than I’ve put down all night), before walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked only long enough to put on the music
I knew I’d need to get this done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Start
running again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got that first mile out
of the last 4.4 in a 12:22.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kept
running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second mile 11:37.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got the first loop done in 24 minutes,
leaving me with 40 minutes for the last lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I realized I wasn't sure if BJ was awake yet from his well deserved nap, and I knew he'd want to see me finish, having contributed so much toward this moment, so c</span>oming through the timing mat I yelled to Michael to make sure BJ was up because I
was on my last lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mile 3 was an
11:55.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mile 4 was 13:01.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Less than half a mile to go – came through
the timing mat with 171.7 mile total, and about 12 minutes left on the clock.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">It was done. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFAgtoOdY6SUM63NY7b-LHd18QTtxSrXvMXwXMad_R1bS71tfjB1CheKNJPWS6bc576T2rxl9PGZv0ukLGX4lWfxFWkBIV3wmLO1Ri5l-0u3WI_WHIAfcjvdbKO9e0ZWJGi6-gZy0xUCJcqw_NA-sNHaxH6SHXcSpKEaWB3BNMXDcBvmI4bHBtW28=s2400" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFAgtoOdY6SUM63NY7b-LHd18QTtxSrXvMXwXMad_R1bS71tfjB1CheKNJPWS6bc576T2rxl9PGZv0ukLGX4lWfxFWkBIV3wmLO1Ri5l-0u3WI_WHIAfcjvdbKO9e0ZWJGi6-gZy0xUCJcqw_NA-sNHaxH6SHXcSpKEaWB3BNMXDcBvmI4bHBtW28=s320" width="144" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lap splits at the end of the race</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I finished 1st woman, and 2nd overall. As noted in the beginning, not my best, not my worst. <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>And now I have some reflection to do. Because it turns out, when I had some major motivation to run fast, as I did in the last 64 minutes, it was all right there. I could pull some respectable lap paces. Hell, more than respectable. </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I knew what motivation looks like. It looks like Viktoria Brown, who kept constant the entire race. Clearly she was hurting. But she had the motivation that I, at the moment, lack. </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I don't want it badly enough for that kind of pain. For giving up the conversations with my friends. For the comfort of 20 minutes of sleep, or for just 5 more minutes eating my burger. </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>At least... I didn't want it badly enough in THIS race.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I know runners who only value records as a valid race goal. And certainly, I'd love a record. But when the big goal becomes out of reach, I'd like to have a better way of keeping a high bar and wanting it badly enough. The example here? 202 is my 48 hour PR, and clearly that wasn't going to happen. 190 was my Jackpot PR. That probably COULD have happened. Cut some of those 18 minute miles down to 15.5 by focusing more on lap pace; cut the 75 minute sleep down to 20. Understand that my head controls my body. Once I knew this.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>(how much do you want it?)</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Nonetheless, I view this as another success in that I spent an enormous amount of time really not feeling like I wanted to be where I was - yet I persevered. I revised my goals and I'd say I achieved my C Goal. And although I said I "didn't want that kind of pain" with regard to aiming for a record, this race was not remotely without pain. I was in relatively constant pain from early on in the race, with foot nerve pain, hip pain, and some pretty special calf pain. But I worked through it and kept on keeping on.</p><p class="MsoNormal">In the end, it is about the people. The relationships with the Balas and the Karlas and the Lukes. The support from crew and loved ones and the race directors. And the awe of watching tremendous performances and records being set.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWjaC1f-Ch0x4KiJpTgYX8eWYrt5qMNjEoPySAe6Kflkj1ACrJZgXxtDp1Vvv7AGOjEf72JLZvcf2Pg3oeeyx9qUaovIQPKio1Qy6dT6mKaB7o5f06zVrU-QkDq8Qj9mx6BtwUX_mDGYdtfIZOhVJaPzjqmSUncr4d7uo0tsahBYQdVICkMUcepF4=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWjaC1f-Ch0x4KiJpTgYX8eWYrt5qMNjEoPySAe6Kflkj1ACrJZgXxtDp1Vvv7AGOjEf72JLZvcf2Pg3oeeyx9qUaovIQPKio1Qy6dT6mKaB7o5f06zVrU-QkDq8Qj9mx6BtwUX_mDGYdtfIZOhVJaPzjqmSUncr4d7uo0tsahBYQdVICkMUcepF4=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhga2QV6OFMLKAHFIgXb9iWFalP6QFL-lKAOqaVUgnqe_S-AkFvlOTB6HNut7AScLrI5ujqVn-5hEv6gosPX80LcF1wDcSSfmqSCHF1sjg-HJ2BHdDEM6EyfrJdSIioiA6EnNsTG689BiWWa3cXMXebUganvsH6CZ6XDNDIibQmcG8VTthE_v6UMXU=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhga2QV6OFMLKAHFIgXb9iWFalP6QFL-lKAOqaVUgnqe_S-AkFvlOTB6HNut7AScLrI5ujqVn-5hEv6gosPX80LcF1wDcSSfmqSCHF1sjg-HJ2BHdDEM6EyfrJdSIioiA6EnNsTG689BiWWa3cXMXebUganvsH6CZ6XDNDIibQmcG8VTthE_v6UMXU=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-33665437279359686182022-01-09T16:19:00.003-08:002022-01-09T19:12:03.532-08:00ATY 2021 - Relentless Forward Progress<p>Once upon a time, I was kinda good at multi-days.</p><p>Then, job challenges, moving, big life changes, and, well, COVID year. </p><p>After a previous slew of multi-day successes, I DNF'd a 48 hour at ATY in December of 2019, had a really challenging 6 day race at 3 Days at the Fair in Fall of 2020, where I developed the lean early on day 4, and subsequently DNF'd a 48 hour at Jackpot in April of 2021, leaving the brutally hot course to go hiking at Red Rock Canyon. (Quote from my on-course call to my brother right before dropping out: "I don't want to be an ultra runner - I just want to be a regular runner."). So, going into ATY , it had been almost 2 years since any sort of successful multi-day. Added on to this was my DNF at Spartathlon, failing to make the cut-off at 41 miles. My confidence was not what you would call high</p><p>Still, I've had a couple of successful races this year. Got first place female finish at Silver Moon 100 in the spring, followed by first place female at Angry Owl in Oregon along with the course record. Finished Javalina in about 26 hours, and had a great joy run at TGNY in June. So, 2021 was a mixed bag. </p><p>My first 6 day at ATY was 2018/2019, where I set the female course record and hit 453 miles, for a world age-group record. I went into this 2021 race with a few goals. Super super stretch A goal (call at A+++), was 500 miles. Pace plan for this was 95 on day 1, followed by 81's every other day. It sounds good on paper, but anyone who has run a 6 day knows that 81 on the later days of the race is pretty tough to achieve. Goal A was 475, which would be a female road record, and B goal was anything over my previous 453 - or a personal best. C Goal was anything over 400. </p><p>Really, all of these represented success to me as long as I stayed on the course and did my best. </p><p>My biggest physical concerns going into the race were the possibility of getting the "lean" again, and the question of whether or not my nagging plantar fasciitis would become an issue. Other than that, I was in good race shape, having just run a fast almost PR marathon a few weeks prior, and feeling healthier and stronger than when I went into Spartathlon in September.</p><p>Sue Scholl was originally going to crew me, but she had a work project unexpectedly come up, so I was going to be on my own. This is doable, but requires more organization and planning. I was going to be sharing an RV with Seattle beast Jill Hudson and her friend Jennie. This set-up allowed all of us to both have a bed, as well as a bunk or shelf where we could have all of our race things laid out.</p><p>For a 6 day in the desert, where weather can (and usually does) include hot, cold, and rain, you need lots of clothing. Essentially at least 6 sets of hot weather clothes, medium weather clothes, and cold weather clothes - plus rain gear. I always bring at least 3 pairs of shoes, and also brought about 5 different types of inserts in order to switch things up if my feet started giving me trouble.</p><p>Travel to the race was a nightmare. My plan had been to arrive early on 12/26 which would give me that day to relax and sightsee, and then more of the same, plus race prep on 12/27, followed by race start on 12/28. Alas, that was not to be. I ended up spending 14 hours in the San Francisco airport and did not arrive to my hotel in Phoenix until close to midnight on 12/26. My plan was to sleep until I woke up the next morning naturally, snag breakfast and a shake-out run, then get organized for the race.</p><p>I slept well, breakfasted well (my hotel had a little pancake maker! Love those!), and met my new friend Cole for a 5 mile run. He lives in Phoenix - I'd met him after Javalina, and we went to a local park. Normally my first run after an airplane ride is crap, so I was stunned and thrilled to average a 10 minute per mile easy pace with bouncy legs. </p><p>I touched based with RV bunkmates Jill Hudson and Jenny Appel. Their flight, like mine, was now experiencing delays, so I was charged with meeting the RV people when they arrived on the course. The RV arrived and got set up, and I focused my nervous energy on organizing my race things in the RV for easy non-crewed access. Soon enough, it was time for dinner, and my last hotel sleep before race start.</p><p>I've done enough of these now that I was able to get decent sleep without thinking too much about what was ahead. That is my general coping strategy: ignore my imminent reality until the race starts, and then, well, it's too late. </p><p>Breakfast included more adorable pancakes, and an early arrival to the race course. I hung with Jill for a bit, got dressed, and went over to the starting line about 20 minutes prior to Go-time. It left just enough time to say hi to all my old friends, without too much getting nervous time. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEipoHSB4h3SIvbJoRvk_gRllGDf-1kuRcGB7DzhwS0mBRebqC4CSoDr2Im2fdkRkdH34k4RTfR8o9Er_nT709hGoTojGlCkDf16TAIqiqZdF0_B3wBuJgtR3zoT7o1zjxw-Iz_WDn4lFhg4k0t4bgRsfdhy4-Kb76gmAuZEip2QF9jry4VDJgXX1pI=s2048" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEipoHSB4h3SIvbJoRvk_gRllGDf-1kuRcGB7DzhwS0mBRebqC4CSoDr2Im2fdkRkdH34k4RTfR8o9Er_nT709hGoTojGlCkDf16TAIqiqZdF0_B3wBuJgtR3zoT7o1zjxw-Iz_WDn4lFhg4k0t4bgRsfdhy4-Kb76gmAuZEip2QF9jry4VDJgXX1pI=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging at the race start</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Day 1 was smooth and relatively easy. I had gone in well rested and the miles just ticked off. I put my feet up for a few minutes when I hit 50, at about 10 hours. I got off course at 90 miles to rest, with a plan to get in the last 5 after the sleep. I managed that plus 3, all while feeling I wasn't going too hard. The hardest thing about day 1 was the rain. It drizzled all day. The drizzle itself wasn't a problem, as the temperature was mild and the rain wasn't too hard. I generally don't mind running in the rain, and didn't this time either. The problem was the mess that it made of the course. The course is largely packed dirt - which means that run turns it into a muddy slippery mess. There were also many potholes that turned into little lakes. Many runners were trying to assiduously avoid the puddles, but I just splashed right through them. There was really no point in trying to keep my shoes dry - it was impossible, and in fact sometimes the cool water was soothing on my feet. Still, it meant that my shoes were caked in mud, and my socks were trashed. I'd need to pay more attention to foot care to avoid blisters, and would definitely need more socks than I had brought.</p><p>Day 2 plan was a total of 81 miles, but I had already banked 3 in the 8-9am hour, so really, just 78 before rest. Again, this came relatively easily. I was starting to get fatigued on day 2, but nothing I couldn't work through. The course was starting to dry out, which was nice. However, Friday (day 4) was forecasted to be a downpour all day, so we were all painfully aware that the dry course would likely be temporary. I was thrilled that after 2 days, I was still solidly on pace plan. Day 2 is always rough emotionally, and it is hard to say why. Maybe it is because the newness of day 1 has worn off, and you still have so much time to be out on the course.</p><p>The morning of day 3 felt great. I'd had a solid nap about 10 miles before the end of Day 2 miles, and that plus foot care, ibuprofen and some caffeine made the morning tremendously happy. I ran solidly for what felt like hours, just in the zone, listening to my music. I was, however, definitely slowing down a bit. This is not at all suprising - negative splits in 6 day races are rare, and slow down is to be expected. This was probably the day I mentally slipped from A+++ goal of 500 to A goal of 475. At this point, I was solidly on track for that, and was still feeling confident. And, one of the cool things that happened on Day 3 was hitting the 200 mile mark. I was fortunate to be close to some of the fun runners I'd been spending time with, and they escorted me across the timing mat for my 200 lap.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaMZdfch0jtzPiMOjd01N5T-mwoEi5ixs7t8K9_Dx1Inlwm8cF52CNIssOd4fyGN6VhLyDB7KcxFbjhWl6gE5GFbzl0RTQCOPIjXQMCrE-IrH1X8FG91JrxNZGd-m9gdKq9-S_eIHzHQsYtke-2EbNix8EoQJvs2ESS8pg66Ud4SFuBnQvTlolL3U=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaMZdfch0jtzPiMOjd01N5T-mwoEi5ixs7t8K9_Dx1Inlwm8cF52CNIssOd4fyGN6VhLyDB7KcxFbjhWl6gE5GFbzl0RTQCOPIjXQMCrE-IrH1X8FG91JrxNZGd-m9gdKq9-S_eIHzHQsYtke-2EbNix8EoQJvs2ESS8pg66Ud4SFuBnQvTlolL3U=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 200 mile crazy train</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>I think it was the evening of Day 3 where my first major issue occurred. I was playing around with my sleep schedule and I decided to go down for my long nap a bit earlier to see if it might help. This turned out to be a really bad call. First of all, I wasn't sleepy enough to sleep. So, after taking the time to address feet, change clothes, and do all of the things you do in the long break, I lay there unable to get the restorative sleep I needed. Secondly, I checked out Facebook and saw a post about the status of the 6 day race, and comments regarding specifically my performance as compared to that of the runner who was currently in second. The gist was that I might be in first place now, but that due to my dodgy sleep strategy, I likely wouldn't be by the end of the race.</p><p>This did nothing to help me sleep. Nor did it do anything for my confidence. Regardless of the fact that I knew my sleep strategy was fine (as long as I GOT the sleep I went down for), it was disheartening to see that forecast.</p><p>After 2 restless frustrated hours, I went back out on the course to get the rest of the day's miles. Because I hadn't slept, the speed burst that normally comes after a good sleep didn't come, and the miles were slower and fewer than planned. Day 4 dawned and I was just feeling tired and hurting.</p><p>Day 4 was the day it was supposed to pour all day. It dawned cloudy and cool, and because of the forecast I stayed in my tights and long sleeve shirt. However, sometime mid morning instead of raining, the sun came out and it got unexpectedly hot. So instead of getting soaked and maintaining a comfortable temperature, I was battling heat and some relatively brutal sunshine.</p><p>Because I kept expecting the rain, I never actually changed my clothes to deal with the unexpected conditions. The best I could do quickly to deal with the heat was to take off my long sleeve shirt, so I found myself running in black tights and a jog bra. Stupidly, I also forgot my hat, and I never put on sunscreen. These are all things a crew might have kept my on track with, but on my own, my brain was getting mushy. I therefore spent the morning of day 4 getting progressively more overheated and sunburned. Adding to the discomfort was the overall "unwell" feeling that occurs after breathing through your mouth for over 250 miles in the desert. I felt flu-ish, hot then cold, having a horrible time maintaining any steady body temperature. I was headachey with some cold sweats. These symptoms in the time of COVID suck, because they could be anything. I knew it was perfectly normal to feel this way during a multi-day, because I've felt it every time. Still, there was a lingering question of whether or not I truly was getting sick. (Jump to post race - tested negative).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEio_lk61xPBsuiR7MTOlIeejLlgDR9fJHIXpB4cLcOXBM-nY9jnIradVvE8-W2zWNRoY1uhNuVYpWa_wvC2NqH_lPnr_2ffyYFqeotd54p3o3BaHHKhIZT44mX7vZJiJJVblPX-kEG0Je1bLo2DNjWfpLRUcmG4LogKZja1QmIBMCYY01GbljZW80E=s537" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="537" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEio_lk61xPBsuiR7MTOlIeejLlgDR9fJHIXpB4cLcOXBM-nY9jnIradVvE8-W2zWNRoY1uhNuVYpWa_wvC2NqH_lPnr_2ffyYFqeotd54p3o3BaHHKhIZT44mX7vZJiJJVblPX-kEG0Je1bLo2DNjWfpLRUcmG4LogKZja1QmIBMCYY01GbljZW80E=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>The miles on day 4 came agonizingly slowly. It was as if this horrible day was in slow motion. I had pretty much resigned myself to losing first place. I didn't see how I could maintain it, feeling the way I felt. My coach texted me earlier in the day with a pep talk, giving me the splits I'd need to hit to stay on goal for the 75. I knew they were impossible, so I just gave her a thumbs up and ignored her.</p><p>Sometime late in that awful day, I caught up with Marie Boyd and had a chat. I told her I was exhausted and that my speed was suffering. Which is to say... there was none. If I stayed out on the course without getting some restorative sleep, I'd just steadily lose ground to the other women who currently were significantly faster. Marie agreed that at this point sleep was imperative. I might lose a couple of hours on the course, but it was crucial that I refill the energy tank.</p><p>After I hit the 50 mile mark on what I had originally hoped would be a 75 mile day, I resigned myself to a long rest. With a huge sense of relief, I went into the RV, and did all of the self care things. Foot care, clothing change, food/drink, and finally, blessed sleep. This time, unlike the previous night, it came quickly and soundly. I set my alarm to allow myself 3 hours, but after a little over 2 hours of sleeping like I'd been drugged, I woke up wide awake, alert, and optimistic. I can't even begin to describe how much better I felt.</p><p>Downed some caffeine, pulled on my clothes, and headed out. </p><p>Oh. My. Goodness. This was happy making. So, too, was my knowledge that the other 2 lead women were still sleeping - so as long as I was out on the course, I was banking miles into the lead. </p><p>The hours on day 5 just ticked by. The weather was sunny but cool and breezy. Really, the first perfect running weather we'd had for the entire race. Tom Jackson's wife M'Lee generously bought me a hat and some aloe, so I was able to both prevent sunburn that day and address the burn I already had. The biggest issue that started to occur on day 5 was the steady deterioration of my feet.</p><p>I'd struggled with plantar fasciitis in the months prior to the race, and although I kept it manageable, I never really chased it away. By day 5, I was starting to experience some pretty significant heel pain. Also, I was getting some impressive nerve pain in both feet - they constantly felt like they were on pins and needles, with some numbness in my left toes. It felt like there was grit under my socks, even when I had a fresh change of socks and shoes. </p><p>Because of the previous day's poor mileage, and because of how my feet felt, I'd ratcheted down my goal to just exceeding 400 miles, and maintaining the women's win. This was looking pretty doable on both fronts, but I was starting to get concerned about where Sandra was. Sandra had been steady on my tail for 4 days now, and I had every expectation for a while that she would pass me - but as of 11:00 on Thursday morning I still didn't see her out on the course, and I was getting worried. I texted her but didn't hear back. </p><p>Sometime in the next hour, I saw her. We hugged, and both cried. Turns out her day 4 was as shitty as mine. These things are all mental, and she'd had a rough night. But, now she was back to do what she was here to do, and I was glad to see her get in her zone.</p><p>For anyone who doesn't know her, Sandra Vii is a world class badass. She won Badwater in 2017, and has the female record for a transcontinental crossing of the United States. She podiumed at the Dome in 2019, and then came back and won it in 2021 with 422 miles. Also... she is a truly amazing human being. On day 5 we spent a bit of time running laps together, and I got to hear a bit of her story. She is humble, powerful, and one of the best runners I've ever seen. If there is anything I am truly grateful for about this 6 day race, it is having had the privilege of running with this wonderful woman.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3RbVOQLsmdGj4VH3AQND4iL5Pq3uowmKxnTN6e61eYlNZxMgOalqFoFDus-xs2zTXKintd3sk6S9HdAEN_esmgUkCK8zPxsz6IubEyS79c2CpAB-iPLzkDJnWy_A2sr6XiFlIJNpDTqXq7lTPr2EwAV8wQlWNDjXgtmWeURfgcaA7JnXmJ7QyFlk=s1492" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1492" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3RbVOQLsmdGj4VH3AQND4iL5Pq3uowmKxnTN6e61eYlNZxMgOalqFoFDus-xs2zTXKintd3sk6S9HdAEN_esmgUkCK8zPxsz6IubEyS79c2CpAB-iPLzkDJnWy_A2sr6XiFlIJNpDTqXq7lTPr2EwAV8wQlWNDjXgtmWeURfgcaA7JnXmJ7QyFlk=s320" width="232" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharing a lap with Sandra Vii</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>This is not to diss the other amazing woman pushing me to continue. Andrea Mehner came into ATY without any previous multi-day experience. I had raced against her before, at FarmDaze 24 hour in Georgia. She won by a couple of miles. She came into ATY with the absolute right attitude for a first 6 days - which was, to just be out there for as many miles as she could do a day - and then get solid sleep at night. She was regularly off the course for 6-7 hours each day - far more than me. However, when she was ON the course, her miles were incredibly fast. She was ticking off regular 14 minute laps, while I was trying to maintain 16-18 minute laps. Truly a remarkable performance.</p><p>Some of the other folks who I was thrilled to spent time with include Aussies Marie Boyd (73 yo, 10 day) and Annabel Hepworth (72 hour winner), Seattle babes Jill Hudson, Jenny Appel (72 hours), and my bud Rachel Entrekin (48 hours), Florida phenom Lisa Devona (OMG! speedy! 48 hr winner); Terrie Wurzbacher (73 yo and in for 10 days!). I'd gotten to share laps with Tom Jackson, a Spartathlon teammate and with whom I will run the Berlin Wall 100 in August, and with legend John Geesler. Witt Wisebram, who also shared the podium with Andrea and I at Farmdaze, was in for 10 days and going through his own spiritual journey. Van Phan is an ultra legend - she was the women's leader in the 10 day, and was here with Mikey Sklar - a truly wonderful human being and Van's SO whom she met 2 years ago at ATY. My new friend Chad, my friend Steve Tuttle, my new friend Eddie Fackler who was running 200 miles after losing 200 pounds. So many wonderful people. I'm sure I'm missing folks and it is unintentional - I love you all.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYLgsHDCTooNRSjuV2iL2jhty3uLKJcTD0OO3f-fmN1AbDyKtO4gPRr27L4hDuebz8Z03xPOz1HNzEXBbe4u4pwrPWt_3fBlWl1FuudN8U2n-SRFANlhh_VycXlWCqL3bI-oTKlYcETtGzlrgXnzw28Uto_nbfxWIZiogwZ20wgWjedBdjzdeBKxA=s537" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="537" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYLgsHDCTooNRSjuV2iL2jhty3uLKJcTD0OO3f-fmN1AbDyKtO4gPRr27L4hDuebz8Z03xPOz1HNzEXBbe4u4pwrPWt_3fBlWl1FuudN8U2n-SRFANlhh_VycXlWCqL3bI-oTKlYcETtGzlrgXnzw28Uto_nbfxWIZiogwZ20wgWjedBdjzdeBKxA=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lap with Rachel Entrekin and Mark McCaslin</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzHwuElODWhWd4nBE9jgSr4JqFX9a0xjZzl-fnhUUWt4ha9nX1YrLRTs-0o8srabPqbwa1HyTyastD4vPxBAUtVNe_Gytoq22FfxqNAzyvyeru9tXltoVYDYXDMX34smyod3XdkShWCHFRZfmRvpXAyCHwHpX6AX45zjTNf2GWIYImlRyOaNtUQ8I=s1123" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1123" data-original-width="843" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzHwuElODWhWd4nBE9jgSr4JqFX9a0xjZzl-fnhUUWt4ha9nX1YrLRTs-0o8srabPqbwa1HyTyastD4vPxBAUtVNe_Gytoq22FfxqNAzyvyeru9tXltoVYDYXDMX34smyod3XdkShWCHFRZfmRvpXAyCHwHpX6AX45zjTNf2GWIYImlRyOaNtUQ8I=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott Thompson, Rachel Entrekin and I</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>Anyway, back to the race. Mid-day Day 5, Sandra's husband went out and got us lunch from Culvers, and Sandra and I took 30 minutes off course to chow down. I had a double burger with cheese, onion rings, and a huge diet coke. It. Was. Heaven. I had no problem stuffing in a few more french fries since Sandra didn't want all of hers. I was thinking I'd take a quick 20 minute power nap after the big lunch (sleep does great things when combined with food) but realized that my phone was in the charging station in the warming tent so I had no way to wake myself up. Charging devices was another thing that was a little more challenging without crew, as I had to managing getting devices hooked up, unhooked and back in my possesion - which took a bit of time. Anyway, without my phone, I had to keep going and stay on course.</p><p>As decent as my mood was on day 5, I truly was having trouble with my feet. The pain was relatively constant - it was just a matter of how severe it was at any point in time.</p><p>Still, I was on pace for the women's win, as long as I stayed the course.</p><p>Day 6 was all about foot management. Once again, the miles came painfully slowly. I knew I'd be hitting 400 miles sometime on day 6 and expected it to be sometime around midnight. But even slow 20 minute laps were eluding me. I think I probably changed my shoes 20-25 times day 6. Pretty much every lap. I'd dart into the RV, pull on some other combo of shoes and inserts, and hobble back out. Really, nothing was working. The heel pain was awful, as were the pins and needs of nerve pain. Finally, I pulled on my oofo sandles and started walking in those. Those were the best miles I got during the day. I was actually able to jog/walk for a bit in the foamy flip flops. I just needed to watch my footing to ensure I didn't trip or stub my toe. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_mPuj-BHJ5HSZ8vlCk8YNGb84fGtNvYbo4UngC0amOcG7RpLMB2KURObrLAH6Ji2tzIsD1BDecciw-p5aGNH4prgbmIsmb9fGIgqDpvbpPMwPQjlGoeee2cclv8lPGV7lKJQI4znYRZNlaOZGScs9UZ9gZPdeEn6ytgHTaMqL8nqUlLktcbnCFt4=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_mPuj-BHJ5HSZ8vlCk8YNGb84fGtNvYbo4UngC0amOcG7RpLMB2KURObrLAH6Ji2tzIsD1BDecciw-p5aGNH4prgbmIsmb9fGIgqDpvbpPMwPQjlGoeee2cclv8lPGV7lKJQI4znYRZNlaOZGScs9UZ9gZPdeEn6ytgHTaMqL8nqUlLktcbnCFt4=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shoe surgery day 6</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>I took a power nap about 6 miles before 400 miles. As much as I wanted to power through to 400, I was just too exhausted. It was my plan to get a decent 2 hours of sleep after 400, and then go straight through until the race end. And this was what I did.</p><p>Jill gave me a pair of her Hokas that were a size bigger than mine. They proved to be the magic bullet in that I didn't have to change them every lap. My goal after waking up from my post 400 mile nap was to land somewhere between 410 and 415. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibSH33KGaxAZjdbOVbEUHaot7-pknEI59QJy4f3fhVu5f7YDeZxfZmuePe1ITl00ABA5gbefkj-AgWfL6NMDQsJSyEZ4Tv34Grfg9Mm2lOH9_38UFuDk4OE8CvNOw0dSCdeiWHn5mGTzbkxmX2oef-0djJYerBX8jJptFgE_hBj0NrvTLYvOvujIs=s960" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibSH33KGaxAZjdbOVbEUHaot7-pknEI59QJy4f3fhVu5f7YDeZxfZmuePe1ITl00ABA5gbefkj-AgWfL6NMDQsJSyEZ4Tv34Grfg9Mm2lOH9_38UFuDk4OE8CvNOw0dSCdeiWHn5mGTzbkxmX2oef-0djJYerBX8jJptFgE_hBj0NrvTLYvOvujIs=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Jill Hudson and Rick Haas</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>I think I forgot to mention just how cold it was nights 5 and 6. Once the rain was gone from the forecast, the temperature at night plummeted. Night 5 was below freezing, and night 6 was in the 30's. So one of the challenges was clothing choice. If you wear clothes that are comfortable for a walking pace, you get overheated if you run. If you dress to run, then you freeze your ass off if you are reduced to a walk. There is really no winning. I chose to wear pretty much every piece of warm clothing that I had, and every once in a while would burst into a jog just to warm up. Although my feet at this point felt well enough to run more laps, there wasn't any need in order to meet current goal, and I didn't want to do any more foot damage. At this point, due to Jill's larger shoes, I had a significant hot spot on the bottom of my left foot that was transforming into a sizeable blister. Sometime in the middle of the night my strategy became "a lap an hour". During this special time, I walked with John Geesler, with Tom Jackson, with Sarah Emoto and Dennis Williams, with Marie Boyd, and with Jill. And, I did end up getting in more than a lap an hour. The time in between laps was spend thawing out in the warming tent, and eating all the food. The starving kicked in. At 4am I had 2 blueberry pancakes, followed by 2 more the next lap.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnvpDD51bXaT9d7auwbXE25S1okHyfk5EnzwY57zhQUo0EH3t-V02ogpBOut3g61blqQy3b-aGM3NxSclTQ2NuAGoz9hji-rltT9mnqAVyc47W6hDoJ-WUWuBVj8IxZ4__ydrHag-Rz75vh_spnqAUcF-VVJk6Q4wAzJ-a2S4fO6LvQYchYzjdSlY=s960" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnvpDD51bXaT9d7auwbXE25S1okHyfk5EnzwY57zhQUo0EH3t-V02ogpBOut3g61blqQy3b-aGM3NxSclTQ2NuAGoz9hji-rltT9mnqAVyc47W6hDoJ-WUWuBVj8IxZ4__ydrHag-Rz75vh_spnqAUcF-VVJk6Q4wAzJ-a2S4fO6LvQYchYzjdSlY=s320" width="240" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjN0EfhnxfADtEE5vzI8CtQ7NkefaNB5nMp5XE9cubXjCI3wk0Wgy_AurAix4IvwhU2IZkReRr3kKdyY2LnV7IYn3OC5ShMjfB1UP9pgIdgZgfrmcn8m2cG5gHJ0k9R-pVbw1s-OgBJixZTEn2ZjWtc61h4k-YdRqkQEOVRCabheqF0P_dXuHdV5Fg=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjN0EfhnxfADtEE5vzI8CtQ7NkefaNB5nMp5XE9cubXjCI3wk0Wgy_AurAix4IvwhU2IZkReRr3kKdyY2LnV7IYn3OC5ShMjfB1UP9pgIdgZgfrmcn8m2cG5gHJ0k9R-pVbw1s-OgBJixZTEn2ZjWtc61h4k-YdRqkQEOVRCabheqF0P_dXuHdV5Fg=s320" width="240" /></a><br /></div><p><br /></p>Rachel Belmont arrived in the morning hours with a breakfast sandwich and hot chocolate, so enjoyed a bit of second breakfast with her arrival. Rachel and Cole had come to the course several times to bring me sustenance and cheer. Cole works at a pizza parlor, so earlier in the race I'd been gifted with a pizza. Rachel also brought a box of magic donuts (magic because they improved my speed by 4 minutes per mile for several hours!) earlier in the race. Mucho thanks to their race support, as they were also busy with events in their own lives!<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXH2gzvYXAT_mQ0VU0FPrVrCEzKKCLZyjePm_C2CpdsQsausomsF7vH-_WePjc8urdB0HtN8q3ygycm8NUzpwRo_Z0acJubsSwKhtwooacnRK9jzHkR81f9iAYLZlxscH7GrC4LyAfMag81UoDWiHnmCaCOL8gqSjvFa6a5aZOKpcRfmYNfViQX8U=s1124" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="843" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXH2gzvYXAT_mQ0VU0FPrVrCEzKKCLZyjePm_C2CpdsQsausomsF7vH-_WePjc8urdB0HtN8q3ygycm8NUzpwRo_Z0acJubsSwKhtwooacnRK9jzHkR81f9iAYLZlxscH7GrC4LyAfMag81UoDWiHnmCaCOL8gqSjvFa6a5aZOKpcRfmYNfViQX8U=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel brought me lots of goodies!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>As the last 2 hours often are, they were magical. There is something in knowing that you will soon be off of this hamster wheel and back in the real world again. Doing things like knitting, and baking, and showering, and sleeping in a clean bed! Being... a normal person. There is a quiet joy in knowing that you have done what you set out to do - maybe not in terms of total mileage, but in terms of giving it everything you've got. You have faced every problem that has come before you in the 6 day period and come up with the best solutions you are able to devise in the moment. You gain inspiration and stength from your comrades in arms. You share stories, and wisdom, and heartache. You cry with each other. You laugh, oh so much, with each other. You get silly; you get serious and somber. You get reflective.</p><p>I am happy to say I left only 8 minutes on the clock, and I ran it in to the finish line. 414.911 miles, first woman. It was done. My 3rd 6-day. Not as strong as my first, but nowhere near as broken as my last. Good enough to make me think I need to give it another go. </p><p><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdsdrDesqW0ovSR6FIZY7sGmxJXcaIxvh2ovHK9OlF73xvjpn_xwmR54cckIc75_WJxN0qYyicP-w8iH28GDiBMhC5ilGoQBHhRu29OfwPpDEF8me3niEaAkUgA_MEaLfG4O6rD4Q19uH2E3muDEz001wVHzILI_1y9inif6pfmQurM4t6thpBf4Y=s956" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="956" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdsdrDesqW0ovSR6FIZY7sGmxJXcaIxvh2ovHK9OlF73xvjpn_xwmR54cckIc75_WJxN0qYyicP-w8iH28GDiBMhC5ilGoQBHhRu29OfwPpDEF8me3niEaAkUgA_MEaLfG4O6rD4Q19uH2E3muDEz001wVHzILI_1y9inif6pfmQurM4t6thpBf4Y=s320" width="241" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the award ceremony with Andrea Mehner</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-29305659030750125342021-10-08T19:48:00.008-07:002021-10-08T20:06:22.643-07:00Spartathlon 2021 – Heartbreak at mile 41<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Failure is hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
mean… it’s easy to do, but hard to digest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is even harder when you are not expecting it.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I certainly went into this race knowing that failure was a
possibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not a fast
runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My strength lies in going out slow
and not slowing down as much as others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Almost
without exception, every race I’ve ever run, I’ve started out DFL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it goes without saying that a 153 mile race
with aggressive early cut-offs every aid station (2-4 miles apart) with
marathon cut-off at 4:45 and 50 mile cut-off at 9:30 will not be a recipe for a
successful race for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I at least had the knowledge that I COULD do it… because I
previously had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did this race 2 years
ago and was even more worried then than now about the early cutoffs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, somewhere, that day, I found speed I
didn’t know I had, breezing through the marathon point at 4:11, and the 50 mile
point at about 8:42.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I paid a cost,
however, getting very nauseated and faint between miles 50 and 62.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been afraid at that point I wouldn’t be
able to finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because of that
experience, I came into this race with a more conservative strategy, aiming to
hit marathon with only 20 or so minutes to spare, and hoping to get to 50 at
around 9 hours 15 or 20 minutes.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’d also like to add that I came into the race strong and
well rested, with weeks of solid hill practice behind me, good sleep, and a
fast marathon for speedwork about 4 weeks out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was, in short, cautious, but confident.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I had a great crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Dave Oakley, who had previously crewed me at 3DATF during the horrific
lean experience was my lead, and Rachel Belmont, a young fast 24 hour runner
fresh off of a volcano stage race adventure, was his partner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I trusted them implicitly and was happy to
have them there.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My biggest concern, really, going into the race, was how my
gut would behave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve had some issues
over the past couple of years with Irritable Bowel Syndrome, resulting in
emergency trips to the bushes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the
first 15 miles or so of the race was essentially through the city, I was
terrified of needing a bathroom and not having one available.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was also worried about losing the precious
minutes, should I need to duck off the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I gambled, and decided to take an Immodium 30 minutes prior to the start
of the race, with the thought that at least it might get me to 50 miles, and
after that, I’d have more leeway because the cut-offs got more generous.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The run started off uneventfully.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was far less nervous than the last time, so
was able to enjoy running from the Acropolis down to the streets of Athens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was pretty thrilled with how bouncy my legs
felt and the ease of running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hit the
first aid station without any issue with time thanks to the downhill
start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was far less thrilled with miles 3 through 5, which had
far more uphill than I remembered, forcing me out of my “easy” zone and into
some huffing and puffing to maintain pace.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To just clarify the degree of my concern about cut-offs, on
my normal “regular pace” 26 mile training run, generally my first mile is
probably an 11:30, the second might also be, and it is probably not until mile
6 or 7 that I start dipping into the 10’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Although I can finish with an average pace of 10:30-10:40 comfortably,
that is all after warming up for 15 miles and negative splitting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For this race, I had to pretty much aim for
an average 10 minute mile pace for the first 15 miles, and then keep it to 10:30
til marathon, and then to 11 for 50 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Very outside my comfort zone.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Still – I hit 5 with no issues and the course seemed to
level off and even throw in some downhill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At one point I caught up with Steve Troxel, who I believe had a similar
pace plan as me, and we talked about our happiness with our current pacing.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I hit 15 miles with a 10 minute mile pace average, which really
made me relieved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was moderately alone
on the course with runners in sight in front of me and behind, but none right
in my zone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was lonelier than my last
Spartathlon but allowed me to really run my own race without feeling
pulled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I enjoyed the scenery immensely this time – the coast was
stunningly beautiful and blue off to the left, and there were occasional
ruins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCLcRABMh8sk0adGlv6ZEYkVgcnhykGG9b9UAGP1TI_qCJhzWtK19tZH9Azo2Uzjb5PU4AMbCxR7_FYTN-25XOOjSdCX1qWn5JnXzq7TvmP8rS6xucaT6Y3JFxHQ0k5vVKaNkbYxpQyk/s960/FB_IMG_1633748163427.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCLcRABMh8sk0adGlv6ZEYkVgcnhykGG9b9UAGP1TI_qCJhzWtK19tZH9Azo2Uzjb5PU4AMbCxR7_FYTN-25XOOjSdCX1qWn5JnXzq7TvmP8rS6xucaT6Y3JFxHQ0k5vVKaNkbYxpQyk/s320/FB_IMG_1633748163427.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Somewhat prior to marathon, I started feeling uncomfortable
in a few ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, it was getting
hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the forecast of cooler than
usual ambient temperatures, it felt pretty warm and dry, as there was not a
cloud in the sky and the sun was brutal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Secondly, I was getting concerned about my gut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began to think that the Immodium had been a
bad idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was starting to experience a
dull ache in my belly as well as feeling uncomfortably bloated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d already pulled off into the bushes once,
despite the fact that the Immodium was supposed to prevent that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of preventing, it was just making
things difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">With the full sun overhead, cooling became an issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any aid station that had ice, I grabbed some
and stuffed my hat and bra.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed to
fill my ice bandana, which I had worn proactively around my neck, but didn’t
want to take the time, so I texted my crew to have it ready for me at the first
point they could meet me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When my watch said 26.2, the marathon aid station was
nowhere to be found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>26.3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>26.4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>26.5.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>26.6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>26.7.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It finally showed up and I clocked the distance at about 26.88.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was .68 miles later than I was
expecting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which, at a 10:45 minute
pace, translates into over 7 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, instead of my goal time of 4:25-4:30, I
was looking at 4:36 with only 9 minutes of cut-off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Was. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bad.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I bolted out of the station and caught up with Steve, who
confirmed my distance (he’d actually clocked it at 27 miles) but who reassured
me that based on his watch we were on pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And yes – according to the pace per mile I’d been running, we were… but
not according to the mileage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What neither
of us knew at that point was that a detour had been added to the race early on,
but that none of the cut-off times had been changed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This immediately changed my mental game from confidence to
something close to panic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had really
been counting on a 15-20 minute buffer, so to only have it down to 9 was
terrifying and disheartening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I texted
my crew to have my ice bandana ready, as well as some Gas-x and a popsicle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were a well oiled machine as I rolled in
and out, and the cooling immediately helped.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Until the ice bandana ice was melted and the fabric dried,
and I started to get hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And my miles
slowed down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I felt like I was
keeping the same pace, my watch was showing me miles in the 11’s, and one uphill
mile in the 12’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">More panic.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Shortly past one aid station I saw Will Thomas who said “What
the hell was up at that aid station?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
just got through with 30 seconds to spare!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He sprinted ahead of me and started making up time, and got far enough ahead
that I no longer saw him.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At aid station 17, I made the cut-off with 2 minutes to
spare.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">2 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still
had over 12 miles to go to get to 50, where things would ease up.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There was a little wall right past the aid station, where I
sat down in despair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t going to
make it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I got up again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I
wasn’t going to make it, I was at least damn well going to try to get to the
next aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started moving again
and called Dave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m not going to make
the cutoff”.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He reassured me that I had plenty of time to make it to 50.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I told him it wasn’t 50 I was worried about – it was the
next aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hadn’t been aware
that EVERY aid station had a cut-off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
reassured me, and I started moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But,
with despair in my heart, I was not sprinting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I didn’t have sprint in me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides
of which, the gut acted up and I needed another stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was over and I knew it was over and I was
just mad and sad with just a little bit of relief (I hate that) that I could
stop being uncomfortable soon because that bus was waiting for me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On our way to CP 18, I saw Steve, walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said “we’re not going to make it”, and I
walked with him a little bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
cursing and horribly sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had started
cramping up and it blew that section for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I started jogging again, but there was zero power and zero spirit in
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hit aid station 18 just 3 minutes
past cut-off, where they told me “you can’t go on.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yeah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They asked for my bib, my chip, my GPS locater.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I handed them all over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a little cadre of us – 5 of us
missed the cutoff at CP18.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were listless
and angry and a couple of the runners were shocked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They appeared to not have the foreknowledge I
had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We headed for the bus and took our seats.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me tell
you what is NOT on the Bus Of Shame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is no water or food for sad and hurting runners who have been
running for 41 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are no
babywipes or towels or anything to make you feel better about the shitty
situation in which you find yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are just other sad runners, staring out the window with dazed looks
on their faces.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSTshQ3XzFS49SfE-tj-OQ1xNUqpgc2evfWAMBqVzwyZZilOsYJ1HLtOvxZmU4xzWu37vVsYB-0TJpRGXZyk3XnSkN2WkCbnfyv2gb2ekVAyiJt9nLcX1IVsOLnWDXn2XQJoWc_bpqVs/s2048/20210924_144210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSTshQ3XzFS49SfE-tj-OQ1xNUqpgc2evfWAMBqVzwyZZilOsYJ1HLtOvxZmU4xzWu37vVsYB-0TJpRGXZyk3XnSkN2WkCbnfyv2gb2ekVAyiJt9nLcX1IVsOLnWDXn2XQJoWc_bpqVs/s320/20210924_144210.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view from the bus</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We drove on to the next aid station to wait for the next crew
of DNFs, where some of us got off the bus to scrounge for food and water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am profoundly grateful that I had crew, so
I could text them to meet us at 50 miles so we could get off the fucking bus
and at least get some sympathy, love, and dry clothing.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Steve and I met Dave and Rachel at 50 and had a sad reunion
of sorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We decided to hang out there
and wait for the American runners who still hadn’t passed through yet….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan, Tom and Will, I believe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We knew Will was chasing cut-offs and we knew
how hot it was, so we had ice ready for him and some cheery words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we decided then and there that we would
stay on the course to support our team, despite our personal defeat. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We did a Ragnar Relay shower, with baby wipes and dry clothes,
and got ourselves some food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped
at a couple more crew points, and then made a side trip to Sparta to check into
our hotel and shower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coming back from
Sparta it was early morning and we had the privilege of seeing the runners in
the lead, and took a side trek to say hi to Bob Hearn before meeting up with
Will at mountain base.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have to say, having not finished my own race, it was
pretty cool to see the race from the point of crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got to spend time with other crew members<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- Phil McCarthy, Jessica Marti, and M’lee, as
well as Otto’s crew Jurgen and Elaine, and also see the course by car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As crew, I found myself just in awe of the
runners who were still out there, thinking to myself “how can they be moving
like that in this heat?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Will and Tom came into the last aid station with 20 minutes
to spare. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From this point they only had 10K
to the end, and plenty of time to do it as long as they kept moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We headed to the finish line.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Driving into Sparta hurt like hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I recognized all of the places I had been
running 2 years prior. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We parked and headed to the finish to wait
for our guys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried some more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being at that finish line, with the runners’
names being shouted as they ran in, and the majestic music playing, and not running
it in….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that was hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We checked the tracker and saw that Will and Tom were
getting close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had flags ready for
them, and were ready to video their finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They were running together and I met Will to give him his flag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked if he’d like company running in to
the finish, as at this one point runners are allowed to have their support run
with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am so incredibly and humbly
grateful that he said yes.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, I got to run in with this fabulous runner who ran the
race with grit and determination, getting stronger along the way after a 30
second brush with possible DNF.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will
finished his race with 36 minutes to spare – an enormous amount of time to gain
back considering how close he’d been at the early cutoffs. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What a gift, for me to be there to watch that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I love this sport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
much as it can fucking hurt, I love this sport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love the people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love that
people put themselves out there to accomplish the impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14s40eg1NhDOvb4TPU_UXq8eCR1sBBV_38uJPzsix52NbdeahS6FhBh447_C0mK3H-AYki2ZZVxEJhKcgPF2SyDrY1RnIr1EFyTfGzPQdKxt9od5eLguYbU3HMkJTdejiYRfU_egBVeg/s2048/20210925_182856.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14s40eg1NhDOvb4TPU_UXq8eCR1sBBV_38uJPzsix52NbdeahS6FhBh447_C0mK3H-AYki2ZZVxEJhKcgPF2SyDrY1RnIr1EFyTfGzPQdKxt9od5eLguYbU3HMkJTdejiYRfU_egBVeg/s320/20210925_182856.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Will Thomas at the finish<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nExlydtJyJJIUJXg4PfXt9H1U5nzklRjNWgrogMOft79oUs7gMKzx2MXTs_sNbDw9lOtiqFVIo6ZD9bV42wPgs5wzOAjBOhG2Aa86AlB578Z-tXmQ-b2ZOErg9bsFLGJqUk9Ni5bqxw/s1250/FB_IMG_1633748344624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1250" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nExlydtJyJJIUJXg4PfXt9H1U5nzklRjNWgrogMOft79oUs7gMKzx2MXTs_sNbDw9lOtiqFVIo6ZD9bV42wPgs5wzOAjBOhG2Aa86AlB578Z-tXmQ-b2ZOErg9bsFLGJqUk9Ni5bqxw/s320/FB_IMG_1633748344624.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, and my crew Rachel and Dave</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></p>Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-33166541201555724102021-06-23T09:23:00.003-07:002021-06-23T09:23:56.583-07:00Popsicles and Love - TGNY 100 Redux<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />I love this race. I knew
it before I ever ran it, when I first read Fred Murolo’s race report several years ago now on the
Ultralist. It was confirmed 2 years ago
when I ran the race with training buddy Larry Huffman and within the first couple of miles, my heart swelled like
a balloon when we were fresh out of Central Park, exploring the upper west
side, and were presented by a breathtaking sunrise City view.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I knew I wanted to come back (ideally as many times as
possible) before I even finished my first TGNY, and indeed I chose this race over running at
the Dome because these days choosing joy over, well, just about anything else,
seems like a good bet after the year we’ve all had.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The thing about the 2021 race that was going to be extra
special, however, was that I would be running with my good friend Katie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had first described Katie in the short
story “Runner Girl” in my book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
described her as a light in the darkness, as the first thing I ever noticed
about her was her headlamp in the early morning dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the time we met, she by and large was not
an ultra distance runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not long after
our meeting, she took her initial forays into ultra with a self supported 50K
run and then a 60K race in Central park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She did her first 12 hour with me at Ethan Allen, around a track on a hot
hot night in Vermont.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She killed
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Back when I told her she would definitely do 100 at some
point she said “no way” – and particularly no way to NY because Katie is not
fond of heat and NY in June can be hot hot hot.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She changed her mind.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">(yay :) )</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A few months ago when it started looking good for the in
person race to happen, there were a few slots available and Phil gave them out
by lottery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was already in the race
due to my 2020 COVID deferral, so when she got in the lottery we know we would
be running together.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bliss.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’d moved out the West Coast in the fall of 2019, and had
only seen Katie once in person since I moved, during an impromptu trip east earlier
this year after I and my folks were fully vaccinated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The opportunity to not only show her my all
time favorite race but to spend 24 plus hours catching up was joy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">COVID year was rough on racing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d participated in a bunch of virtual races
early on, and had several opportunities to run hundreds just for joy with my
friends Jess and Jill before I left Seattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, last fall, just after my challenged 3 Days at the Fair 6 day
run, I moved to California. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second lockdown
happened, accompanied by move, job change and a divorce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a lot, in a short period of time, and
I subsequently took a running nose dive, struggling for a few months with nagging
and persistent injuries and low motivation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d recently started to recover both
physically and emotionally, scoring a 100 mile female win at the Silver Moon 3
weeks prior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been feeling better physically,
by running less and sleeping more, and felt I was coming into this race poised
for joy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I took the red eye from Santa Rosa Thursday evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I had an annoying delay in Santa Rosa
I pretty much arrived at JFK at the expected time 7am on Friday morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas… I got precious little sleep on the
plane and arrived exhausted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made my
way by AirTrain and subway from JFK airport to our hotel in Times Square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Navigating my way through the city, I felt a
thrill at being back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been born
and raised in Westchester County, and worked and lived in the city in my early
20’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I adore New York which is one of
the reasons I like this race so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
love its spirit, its grit, its humanity, its vastness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the grandeur and the filth; the
bridges and the tunnels, and the sense that truly, this place never sleeps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love my history with this place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it was with a happy heart that I arrived
at my subway stop and made my way to the hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had requested an early check in and was thrilled that at 8:15am they
had a room ready for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got some
breakfast and took about an hour long nap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I probably should have slept for longer, but I was expected Katie to
arrive from Virginia by bus sometime shortly after noon, and besides – I cannot
travel without visiting at least one museum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This time it was MOMA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Amazingly, I had never been there. It was fabulous. <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydOE9geKL93xTmLUyDfCQJbcnkD9EimCJSs_tlKQaVSn4yvZPG6a9qbkisJKwuPXZltsEGd0lvitlsefW-vctgHRVqLyRe4tkG92MguoLjxkgVnqRIVDZNyNN8wY2nniAQyC9gj74Op0/s2048/20210618_113615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydOE9geKL93xTmLUyDfCQJbcnkD9EimCJSs_tlKQaVSn4yvZPG6a9qbkisJKwuPXZltsEGd0lvitlsefW-vctgHRVqLyRe4tkG92MguoLjxkgVnqRIVDZNyNN8wY2nniAQyC9gj74Op0/s320/20210618_113615.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After I left MOMA I wandered to Central Park and was struck
by the beauty of the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow,
when I lived in New York, I was way to busy partying to ever wander through
parks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This place was lovely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a gyro on rice and started walking
through the park taking pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
last update from Katie had her in around 2:30, but then I got a text updating
it to 1:50 so I had to book to get to the hotel to meet her.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3X9qynhDwwUde02een6tKeQaR7EL1oHxxblqFLyS9PhmRZmvmRKNQsM-JRGkPQb7Z1crjxqDCQAfnryUvxKYVGwgiNmODm_crvDTne0ceQrURLxcNn2RQjCU2KS2fGj08n4AvRhnpdQY/s2048/20210618_131208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3X9qynhDwwUde02een6tKeQaR7EL1oHxxblqFLyS9PhmRZmvmRKNQsM-JRGkPQb7Z1crjxqDCQAfnryUvxKYVGwgiNmODm_crvDTne0ceQrURLxcNn2RQjCU2KS2fGj08n4AvRhnpdQY/s320/20210618_131208.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We had fun exploring for the next few hours, although my exhaustion
was making itself felt in my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had
dinner with Katie’s friend Hillary, who was going to be meeting us at one of
the aid stations and pacing for a little ways, and also spent some time with
Rachel Belmont and Denise Sauriol.<o:p></o:p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXrrgcJUFKWbLCSY3Agth_BYvP2Cai_n0TxMSxJpPfoPyHX7zfcrRFKQRF8piUXGjOx3gbXCHgrIdt3twkOP4Z86mfG_QtCEQ0ukdwtFqLyzede1ZkdCiQY1x-Z8NncBdqhj-IM4yC80/s2048/Before.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXrrgcJUFKWbLCSY3Agth_BYvP2Cai_n0TxMSxJpPfoPyHX7zfcrRFKQRF8piUXGjOx3gbXCHgrIdt3twkOP4Z86mfG_QtCEQ0ukdwtFqLyzede1ZkdCiQY1x-Z8NncBdqhj-IM4yC80/s320/Before.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sleep was good; alarm went off at 4 and I awoke feeling
relatively fully rested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Downed a can of Starbucks iced espresso, dressed in race clothes (feeling pretty silly
in my Sahara Hat at 4:30am in the dark) and headed to the start, which is
always a grand reunion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Phil had arranged a wave start, and Katie and I were at
5:22 – almost the last wave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess the
good thing about that is not having to go through that mass start feeling where
everyone books out like a bat out of hell and there I am poking along at the
back of the pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This way it was just
she and I, and no pressure. Which is just how I like it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xNju1gNM3cAEZ28DiGLN5NT85e8aV2Kp0ckKTV53JPP8P4pwar4U27t43g1ZZ_youdY1DZup4ryPGubGT7ibDV0vOFC-emARNmg6261nN7g4LvXuq6ZcG2g9DWtvRoaRYlTXUQIhnxQ/s960/TGNY.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xNju1gNM3cAEZ28DiGLN5NT85e8aV2Kp0ckKTV53JPP8P4pwar4U27t43g1ZZ_youdY1DZup4ryPGubGT7ibDV0vOFC-emARNmg6261nN7g4LvXuq6ZcG2g9DWtvRoaRYlTXUQIhnxQ/s320/TGNY.jpg" /></a></div>The first few hours were bliss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although the day was supposed to get hot
(predicted 90), right now it was coolish and overcast, though dreadfully
humid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were both sweating within 15
minutes of the start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My legs felt
fabulously bouncy – I’ve been using new inserts and I love the energy they give
my legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That plus the rest made the
first 50K fly by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsdQve7gxPJjCezkjxheXJdv6Vdw-ayJDW-QhhXeLZbJ2pJ9qa3h7LxnYFu3eZnd53JzFD9_wA-s79QyHweQBhlUCBMgIYGcoUkHI0bKJaw3iwADncxt2USd76YwWEEdkzIevEFCxKr0/s960/KatieAmy1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsdQve7gxPJjCezkjxheXJdv6Vdw-ayJDW-QhhXeLZbJ2pJ9qa3h7LxnYFu3eZnd53JzFD9_wA-s79QyHweQBhlUCBMgIYGcoUkHI0bKJaw3iwADncxt2USd76YwWEEdkzIevEFCxKr0/s320/KatieAmy1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The course had changed a bit from the last time I ran this
race, but I’m geographically challenged enough so I didn’t have a really good
sense of exactly what the changes were, besides not running the Orchard Beach
out and back, where I’d seen the old Italian men chatting and smoking 2 years
ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were more trails, I
think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good because of shade and soft
footing… bad because of roots and bugs.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The sun came out probably around 10am, and, well, then the
fun really began.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Probably because of the humidity I was already getting warm,
and once the sun came out, the baking commenced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nothing appealed at the 30 mile aid station, but there was a convenience
store down the road a piece and I began what was to become a theme for the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went in and bought 1 Froze Fruit
strawberry popsicle for Katie and 1 for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Katie didn’t want hers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no
problem with that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The popsicles gave me about 380 calories plus had a cooling
and hydrating effect so I gained some new life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We continued on, crossing the Triboro bridge somewhere in the early 30’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Can I just say… I love that bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The views are spectacular, and there is just
something incredible about crossing from one borough to another on a mammoth beautiful
bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plus… the second half is all
downhill.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There was an aid station shortly after the descent into Queens,
but alas their popsicles were… juice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
cooling to be had there, though we did avail ourselves of ice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were due to meet Hillary at mile 41, but
that was 5 scorching miles in front of us.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Those miles were the rough part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> By now it was life suckingly h</span>ot and humid, and everything felt slow and heavy, with a little dizzy thrown in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All we could do was keep moving – but at this
point I felt like my lack of energy was holding us back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last mile to the aid station seemed
impossibly long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew Hillary was
planning to have popsicles and that knowledge was all that was moving me forward.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We finally made it and she did have popsicles, but they were
half melted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were still cold and
slushy though, so I sucked down one, greedily gulping the sticky cold sweetness
and needed another one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so
hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked for a 3<sup>rd</sup>, but
someone had thrown them away because they were mostly melted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saw a container of Watermelon juice, so I
had 4 glasses of that over ice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The hydration and core temp issue was solved, but now I had
a belly full of liquid and I was a little worried about how that was going to
play out once we started moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bathroom issues were going to very possibly become an issue.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That was our longest aid station stop – we were probably
there about 10-11 minutes, so the mile clocked out at 25.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t thrilled with that, but the cooling
was necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately the sun had
passed it’s zenith, so we knew that we only had a couple more really hot hours
to get through.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Katie did great taking all the right steps to keep herself
cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no doubts about her running
and endurance ability to do this thing... only her ability to handle the heat, so the closer we got to evening, the closer
I felt we were to a confident finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Blessedly, some clouds started to appear mid afternoon and it appeared
that the worst of the heat was over.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For me, running the race for the second time, there was a
lot of nostalgia… remembering conversations and footfalls from the last race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was particularly true between miles 50
and 100K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One of my favorite places in the race is Flushing Meadows
Corona Park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is packed with people,
sights, smells, and street vendors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
get 2 more popsicles, bringing my total up to 6 for the race. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All too soon, it is over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are back in neighborhoods for a bit, then on
shaded trails.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">100K is always a pretty special milestone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here is no exception.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It serves as a finish line for the racers who
are running the 100K distance, and always has more volunteers than other aid
stations – as well as drop bags.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t
really need anything besides my headlamp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Katie took the time to change into dry clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was able to eat solid food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still was not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was sad that nothing there appealed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I downed some raspberry ginger ale over ice,
and as soon as Katie was ready, we soldiered on.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Although I love the whole course, I really really enjoy the
part from 100K to the finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is
something about getting to evening, running through the Queens
neighborhoods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It feels like you are getting
a glimpse into lots of peoples lives, running all through this city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At about the 70 mile mark, we hit the
Rockaways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is where things really get
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, well, we are at 70
MILES!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always a landmark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, we are running along a paved boardwalk next
to the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To the left of us is a
fence, and beyond that are whitecaps of the waves breaking in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The beach is more deserted this year than
last, so we can just enjoy the ocean breeze and the sound of the surf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> We run a number of miles with Matt, who meets a pacer later on and leaves us in the dust to finish sub-24! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">We exit the beach and run through more
neighborhoods interspersed with aid stations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>80 mile aid… 85 mile aid…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>last
year at 85 miles there was a red carpet, and cannoli and Dunkin Donuts coffee. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere between, I think, 70 and 80, Katie
finally got her Monster energy drink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
gave her a much needed boost, and she perked up considerably.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her journey reminded me so much of my first
100 – that realization, somewhere around 40 miles that even though you have
traveled what seems like an impossible distance, you have so much more in front
of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> 40 to 80 can be spirit sucking miles. </span>By 80, I think she knew she had
this thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our conversation and our steps got more animated, and we
walked and trotted along, ticking off the miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These late evening early morning miles were
strong and joyful despite our sore feet, heavy legs and significant chafing and
bruising from our packs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We could see
the Verrazano bridge off in the distance and were starting to make some
predictions about finish time.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Brooklyn is special to me too, because I lived there for a
few years out of college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My last report
describes the ghosts of my past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
didn’t whisper as loudly this time around, but I still remembered those street
names where I had walked or lived…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dean
Street…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Carroll Street… Court Street…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>heading into Borough Hall and the 95 mile aid
station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last time I did my dancing at
the Coney Island Boardwalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time it
was with the 95 mile volunteers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We boogied
down while Katie made use of some bushes as there were no potties available.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And just like that, there were 5 miles to go.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There is nothing…. nothing in the world… like crossing the
Brooklyn Bridge at dawn by foot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As we landed ourselves back in Manhattan, we had 3 miles to
go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or would have, had we not somehow
ended up wandering down 5<sup>th</sup> Ave instead of Broadway, necessitating a
cross-town navigation correction that probably added on a couple more tenths of
a mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Get ourselves over to Broadway, 8 uptown blocks to go, 7, 6…..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we see them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We see the finish line volunteers waving and cheering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are beyond reach, due to a pesky red
light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stand there impatient, until
we get the green and head in to the finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We are finishers 18 and 19 – and, we find out later, tied
for 3<sup>rd</sup> woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzaLGYSEDa8Ba0rkh0hOaymY9hKnb64DLQhgDyjthicYYXfRxXtvtDtcs4IhXJ7nGJGac6uBz0TIk_7uhtZXDRswIPxh6LfcvLg5EAr8rAflREm1kSVmnSMxv88WgyiBNgeHlWKf-7Eqk/s2048/Finish.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzaLGYSEDa8Ba0rkh0hOaymY9hKnb64DLQhgDyjthicYYXfRxXtvtDtcs4IhXJ7nGJGac6uBz0TIk_7uhtZXDRswIPxh6LfcvLg5EAr8rAflREm1kSVmnSMxv88WgyiBNgeHlWKf-7Eqk/s320/Finish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was so very special being part of Katie's first 100, in a race that means so much to me. After an impossibly long dismal year, the sun is finally shining again. And the future is bright.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thank you, Phil, for putting your heart and soul into this perfect race. Thank you to the volunteers who go out of your way to make each and every aid station an oasis. Thank you to the racers who keep each other moving and joyful.</div><p></p>Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-32079630170913468712020-10-07T12:01:00.018-07:002020-10-07T12:35:34.540-07:00Darkness and Light - 6 Days at 3 Days at the Fair <p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Relative success is a dangerous thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It gives you a taste of what you are capable of, and a thirst for success.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As a runner, I’ve found my niche in multi-day running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t start experiencing any regular
podium placements until I started going 48 hours and beyond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turns out, as a slow runner, you can still
have success at races as long as they are races that rely on tools beyond just
raw speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've discovered I have an
energizer bunny gear that just keeps going… and going… and going… <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Usually, anyway.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thus, the reason why I sign up for these events that are so
very hard on the body, and so very enlightening for the soul.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">48 and 72 hour races… they are brutal enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But 6 day is a whole different beast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is, when you think about it, almost a week
of constant running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is a long
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life in the outside world happens
and you are running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is world news
being made, babies being born, people dying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And you are running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">It’s kind of
crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At my first 6 Day race, I was chatting with Dave Johnston
somewhere around Day 5 and we were talking about what we were going to do in
the “after” times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said “see that
CVS?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over there?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Across the street?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to go there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to get off this effing course and
go the that CVS.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And… see that path?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to walk on that path."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Craziness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a
week, you are a hamster on a wheel.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Why would anybody do this thing?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Turns out we all have different motivations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some, it is purely about the record.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there is not an opportunity to set a
record, there is no reason to race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
others, it is all about the friendships.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just a couple of days set aside to do some easy running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For others of us, it is somewhere in
between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve come to like
pretty trophies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m always thrilled to
get a trophy – particularly one as beautiful as those handed out at the
Fair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Records?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those are pretty swell too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I managed to get myself an age-group world
record at the first 6 Day I did (although I am well aware that there were other
faster runs that exceed my mark and just didn’t have the right paperwork to
make them a record).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So – my name is out
there. Appropriately, or no.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So – this race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was to be my 2<sup>nd</sup> 6 day race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My first one at Across the Years 2018/2019 went astoundingly well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I exceeded my stretch goal, broke the women’s
course record, and got myself the age group world record (again technicalities,
but…).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>453 miles, or you could call it
452 and change after the course got audited and adjusted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In any case, a well-executed race. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It stood to reason that if I had done this at my first
6-Day, there was room for improvement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I set my sights high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>500 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty round
number.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Planned s</span>plits?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>100 on day 1 followed by 5 80’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So that was my A+++ goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A” goal was the Women’s Road record which
(also due to technicalities) stands at 475 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>475 is only 22 more than I had logged at ATY,
so that actually seemed pretty reasonable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“B” goal…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to at least exceed my
past performance of 453.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“C” goal… 400
miles.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It turns out I needed a “D” goal.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fortunately, I had one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My “D” goal, after my course walk-off at my 48 hour at ATY last year,
was “Stay on the fucking course”.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m pleased to say, (and hope I’m not giving too much away)
that I met my D goal.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Generally I am not good at taper but because of all the
really big miles I’d been putting in all summer, I actually rested quite a bit
coming into the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My legs felt bouncy and energetic during my baby runs all that last week and I was raring to go.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Given that I knew exactly what I was in for (or so I
thought) in terms of the mental difficulty of a 6 day race, I actually slept
pretty well the night before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
honored to have had Dave Oakley of Ohio volunteer as crew, and we both stayed
in our posh new RV the night before the race, getting everything
organized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Race morning was warm and muggy, and the day only got warmer
and muggier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were less than 20 of
us on the starting line at 9am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick did
the countdown and we started off at an easy jog.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I could immediately see the benefits of the extra rest in
the fast miles that were coming surprisingly easily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normally my “slow easy” is somewhere closer
to an 11 minute mile but I was throwing down consistent 10:20-10:30’s without
any effort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This got me to 50 in 9 hours
11 minutes, and got me a 100 mile PR at 20 hours 20 minutes. Although my
planned Day 1 split was 100, I had always had it in my head that if I COULD go
105, I would.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns out I logged 108
(although about 20 seconds of that was in day 2 so my official day 1 total was
107).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That gave me a little cushion to
play with in terms of days 2-6 where I hoped to log an average of 80 each
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_mKLJw7YOf-H0tFwapWYANjdiDktZsLu9ZJfmuYAeKM4C_Mze7Ch5fQgpLFqkbSvIQ_vGC1wpyyGDuINS_MWp8_9H-UyP5r2ZaPfSXgi56wVUI2to8v3BrKZ9k-2H07af4-QEtvPNJQ/s387/RunningClose2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="290" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_mKLJw7YOf-H0tFwapWYANjdiDktZsLu9ZJfmuYAeKM4C_Mze7Ch5fQgpLFqkbSvIQ_vGC1wpyyGDuINS_MWp8_9H-UyP5r2ZaPfSXgi56wVUI2to8v3BrKZ9k-2H07af4-QEtvPNJQ/s320/RunningClose2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPcdAlUV3a9kzmeCI7jiibKhFnleKEdroQA3OsGDyj_MUcv1Zitzt-uutaqAfv22BTjZQSJLikyU0R1np7zA-OisySVO2h28hmDeH0mWL58gR2vDXeiTLndvxHhhF6vXExlZf_o1cFYhA/s988/RunningClose3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="988" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPcdAlUV3a9kzmeCI7jiibKhFnleKEdroQA3OsGDyj_MUcv1Zitzt-uutaqAfv22BTjZQSJLikyU0R1np7zA-OisySVO2h28hmDeH0mWL58gR2vDXeiTLndvxHhhF6vXExlZf_o1cFYhA/s320/RunningClose3.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal">One of the <span>treats of day 2 was the arrival of my cousin Rebecca, who was going to be on Team Amy from Day 2 to 3.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span>Rebecca is not only my cousin, but perhaps my closest friend.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span>We have shared incredible ups and downs all of our lives and had always been there for each other.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span>She had never seen me in my ultra world with my ultra people and I was so happy and grateful that she was coming to be part of the fun</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Day 2 the weather
changed from hot and muggy, requiring constant ice bandana changes, to muggy
and rainy in the late afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
still warm, but not so warm that the ice bandana was needed, and I was still,
at that point, running in a jog bra. Later in the evening a shirt went on, and
then it REALLY started to rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It went
from a steady drizzle to a deluge and the course started to empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through quite a bit of the night, there were
probably no more than 3 of us on course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Dave and Rebecca were critical to my emotional and physical well being. Despite the downpour, Dave was out there, under the tent, as I ran lap after lap. </span>The real kicker came when the temperature plunged at least 10 degrees
and very suddenly I was too cold to go much further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided to come in and get warm and dry and
then go out and get the rest of day 2 miles after a nap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That plan worked and I ended day 2 with a
total of 187 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2mdz4hz2RZFRioLZUg9KNEINyGZGAh2_Zy4HghpiTpTjkOPOhC1JXTSYGmn_UlLr-KkHvGUStl3ZgStJAs5y6ij2BESApOiYilZ01v0cqPWAcb9uh4ZHXj0jsdDaSDo7DmsibGpbWUs/s2048/EarlyOn.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2mdz4hz2RZFRioLZUg9KNEINyGZGAh2_Zy4HghpiTpTjkOPOhC1JXTSYGmn_UlLr-KkHvGUStl3ZgStJAs5y6ij2BESApOiYilZ01v0cqPWAcb9uh4ZHXj0jsdDaSDo7DmsibGpbWUs/s320/EarlyOn.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Although I didn't know it yet, the Lean was starting</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Day 3, the weather dawned beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crisp, clear, cool, dry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You really couldn’t get any better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was running pretty consistent 13-15’s which
should easily get me my day’s 80 in 20 moving hours, allowing a bit of
off-course nap time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think it was about halfway through Day 3 that I saw my
shadow, and noticed my right shoulder was significantly lower than my
left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Am I leaning?” I asked a fellow
runner in horror. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have been
for a while.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Oh dear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was not
a good thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve seen it, but never
experienced it firsthand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For anyone not
familiar with “The Lean”, essentially the runner mysteriously just starts
leaning precipitously in one direction or the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes it is forward or backward rather
than sideways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looks, frankly,
ridiculous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But worse, although at first
you don’t even know you are doing it, eventually if it continues it
significantly affects your ability to move forward comfortably.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me, this ended up resulting in a running
form that required me to shove my right hand into my right hip and literally
try to counterbalance the right lean with a leftward push.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any time I removed my hand, I went almost a
foot further over and started to tip.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was awful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
worse, it was painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not in an acute
way, but in a mile after mile after mile weary way – each step adding to the
pain and fatigue and sucking the joy from the run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think by the end of Day 3 I was pretty
confident that any hopes of 500 were long gone, and that 475 was a long shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only got in about 62 miles – my lowest day
so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There was no way to come back from that. I think this is when I had my first good cry.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The morning of Day 4 was rough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I managed about a mile an hour for the first
few hours after 9am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been in touch
with Trishul Cherns who was coming to the grounds to support Camille Herron and
he generously offered to do some body work to see if he could get me moving
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After my time with Trishul, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was finally able to string together some
consistent laps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He assured me that my
race wasn’t over, and that I just needed to keep walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My goal for the day was to end up with a
total of 50 miles for day 4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unfortunately somewhere around 10:30-11pm I was just so fatigued I
couldn’t keep going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">It was supposed to
start raining at 3am and go through 7, so I had really hoped to stay on the
course during the rest of the dry time prior to 3. Given the discomfort of the cold rain the previous day, I had no confidence I’d be
able to get out there and just walk slowly in cold rain, so I pretty much wrote
off 3am to 7. It felt like by coming in at 10:30pm, I was pretty much
giving up the rest of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So be
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed some rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made a Facebook post at that point pretty
much putting it out there that I was resting and we’d see what happened.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t set an alarm, because I figured I’d just sleep
until morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Magically, I woke up
around 3:30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could hear a steady rain,
but when I got out of bed I realized I felt less sore and stiff than I had in a
while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized if I got out there and
got going, I could get in up to another 15 before 9am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pulled on lots of clothing including a
garbage bag vest for waterproof warmth, because as long as I could move, I
figured my worst enemy was the cold rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I got out there and started to move.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I could.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That was possibly one of the more joyful moments in the race
– to feel myself be able to move comfortably again, one of very few people out
there in the rain, contemplating why I do these things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Realizing that true enlightenment comes when
you are stripped raw and humbled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
start to see into the inner depths of your soul and figure out what you are
made of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I wasn’t unhappy with what I saw.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Those moments in night 4 were the epitome of why I do these
multi-days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Enlightenment and Transcendence. </span>At this point in the race, I
had lost hope of all of my real mileage goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was one of the pack – slower, at this point, really, than most of the
pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each of us was out here
discovering different aspects of ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had a few revelations:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I</span>t is OK… to run less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is OK to have
running not be the sole focus of my existence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am made up of so much more than running and my other addictions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bake bread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I knit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I write poetry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am the mother to a beautiful, smart,
courageous daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am the daughter
of 2 role models who taught me that I can do anything I put my mind to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is peace to be found in running
forever, but there is also peace to be found in stillness, and sometimes it is
OK to be still.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">More… I am a woman with friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And everyone, EVERYONE out here on this
course is my friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a gift, to be
able to spend happy miles, sad miles, painful miles, rainy nighttime miles,
scorching daytime miles, with these people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Had I still been able to pursue a monster goal, I would not have these laps with my friends. </span>What a privilege to have them in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">No matter what I end up getting in this race, I will always
have this night.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Those 15 miles were as close to perfect as they come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended Day 4 with 40 miles rather than the
25 I’d been resigned to when I'd come in at 10:30 the previous night.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was now Day 5. Day 5 was pretty exciting for a number of
reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, the 48 hour folks were
starting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had several friends in the
field including Bob Hearn, Marisa Lizak, as well as Camille Herron who was
aiming for the world record. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather
was <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>beautiful – sunny, clear, cool, dry,
and I had just had a positive start to the day, as well as the most sleep I’d
had all week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was pretty on top of the
world.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Day 5 was just glorious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not running, but moving, and moving
steadily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoyed the other runners, I
was thrilled that I’d made it to day 5, and I was pretty confident that I had a
shot at my “C” goal of 400.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In order to
do that, I had to do 56 on Day 5 and 55 on Day 6. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pulled out a few tools in my arsenal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d been running quiet for days – somehow
just didn’t want the noise in my head, but by Day 5 I was ready to rock. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The songs I was listening to had a hard, edgy,
driving beat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started with Boss’s “I
Don’t Give a Fuck” and cranked it to full volume.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The raging bravado of the song fit perfectly
with my mood and the beat allowed me to increase the cadence of my walk, swing
my left arm, and let anger at my situation <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and determination drive me forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Step STEP step <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>STEP idontgiveafuckIdontgiveafuckidontgiveafuckidontgiveafuck…motherFUCKER…idontgiveafucknotasinglesolitaryfuckidontgiveafuckidontgiveafuck…motherFUCKER
step STEP step STEP step STEP step STEP.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>18 minute mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BAM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I then turned up my new Facebook
collaborative playlist really really loud and ran to Skinny Puppy,
Ministry,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>9 Inch Nails, Eminem, and The
Beastie Boys, among others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Those were some good miles.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I also ventured into the podcast world, which I had never
really done before. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(4 podcasts – one
about Jack the Ripper, one about unsolved crimes, one interview with Dolly
Parton where they played a game called “Dolly or Dali” where the participants
had to guess as to whether the quote was from Dolly Parton or the Dali Llama,
and one interview with Elan Musk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who
sounded, pardon me, kind of douchy).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysw9QbNN6MONswWnvjYoaCRMl7w3L-kgPj6OCilzVHmjvF8z_RtaYC7AUBlhmIWaq1OMV_oL5x9TSUzK8NXGm7cjLoiE9z2ShN8IB4Xf0tNa_ZyjRuEBjE2IfqeuRzyieJP765T2c5p8/s2048/ColdWalking.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysw9QbNN6MONswWnvjYoaCRMl7w3L-kgPj6OCilzVHmjvF8z_RtaYC7AUBlhmIWaq1OMV_oL5x9TSUzK8NXGm7cjLoiE9z2ShN8IB4Xf0tNa_ZyjRuEBjE2IfqeuRzyieJP765T2c5p8/s320/ColdWalking.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moving Joyfully</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1KAhFFweqGpOyQO52TDtySH4sEWzpMMXrl3R5ACDYrdi_MhktpS9fRdYgIrFQ5NkbldO36tprJRbVgEd70ERbJ4ZN-FoeOAximr6jsrtPvKGoNYP8ZDPXXpnaJ-074eQaxGrkjMdZtw/s1143/WalkSmile.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1143" data-original-width="649" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1KAhFFweqGpOyQO52TDtySH4sEWzpMMXrl3R5ACDYrdi_MhktpS9fRdYgIrFQ5NkbldO36tprJRbVgEd70ERbJ4ZN-FoeOAximr6jsrtPvKGoNYP8ZDPXXpnaJ-074eQaxGrkjMdZtw/s320/WalkSmile.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only challenge
with using my phone much out there was that any time I took my right hand away
from my hip<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(remember, I was holding
myself up), I started to tip over to the right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So, in order to do anything that required typing on my phone, I had to
stop entirely. Still, I finished Day 5 at 345 miles, with only 55 to go to make
it to 400.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took my 90 minute nap, and
ventured into Day 6.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Which… did not feel so great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early on, buoyed by my great day 5, I tested
out a few running steps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I say a
few, I mean a few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very short, very easy
jogging steps – just enough to turn those 20:35 minute miles into 18:50’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is actually huge, but not a lot of
running.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whether it was trying to throw in any run at all again or
just the accumulated fatigue of holding my back up, Day 6 was just a constant
pain cave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not in a happy place –
I was just putting one painful foot in front of the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt like I was moving through deep water
all day – groggy, miserable, slow, and in pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wanted to enjoy other’s company but I was walking too slowly to even hang
with other walkers for any length of time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The highlight of daytime in Day 6 was watching Bob Hearn and Marisa’s
steady beautiful running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the
knowledge that however it turned out, it would be over soon.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOJlYJmrMQdmF4gCUKJ7VDOm6meNWuPEYfzYlhp5kpjt9miuYN_SslH6vR7ghLcOvAKYmsnEoRfApb4lDVUfpMIRLqosemrnhyEsnoP4pkKPPU4EvqBrirhOqBXbjnNGDnSJBTaEm1d0/s2048/HoldingBack.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOJlYJmrMQdmF4gCUKJ7VDOm6meNWuPEYfzYlhp5kpjt9miuYN_SslH6vR7ghLcOvAKYmsnEoRfApb4lDVUfpMIRLqosemrnhyEsnoP4pkKPPU4EvqBrirhOqBXbjnNGDnSJBTaEm1d0/s320/HoldingBack.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only way I could move was<br />to force my right arm into my right hip.<br />Stop doing this, and I tipped right over.<br />My arm got very tired.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The thing about timed races is… you are always doing
math.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As in… if I want to get 55 miles
in X hours, and I am going X speed I have to move for X hours and can nap
for X time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the miles get faster,
you get more nap buffer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they get
slower….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(which happens with bathroom
stops, aid station stops, shoe changes, or just slowing down due to pain)…. you
get less true rest.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Oh, and did I mention the blisters?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, somewhere mid-race I had to have Dave
perform surgery on 2 pairs of shoes to cut out the toe-box as, despite my best
efforts, I was getting under-toenail blisters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So my piggies were bared to the world for the last 3 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With lancing to drain fluid, and application of Run-Goo, the toe blisters were completely controlled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turns out it is phenomenally comfortable
to run in shoes with the toe boxes cut out, so that is in my arsenal for the
future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas, it doesn’t help with those
half-dollar sized blisters on the pad of your foot nor with the quarter sized
heel blisters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those I just lanced and
Run-Goo’d, which pretty much took care of the situation.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, back to Day 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I tried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really did. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The miles ticked by, painfully, slowly, and
evening approached.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time was now my
enemy – it amazingly was moving too fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (This doesn't usually happen in a multi-day, lol). </span>As much as I knew I needed to stay out there on the course, I was also
feeling like without more decent sleep I just couldn’t make any miles quicker
than 23 minutes or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
balancing game between whether it was better to get really slow miles, or nap
more often to allow short bursts where I could have faster less painful miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With 26 miles to go, I decided that a nap was
necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured I could throw down
3 20 minute power naps between 26 miles and the end – so nap, go around 9-10,
nap again, do the same, and finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Except… getting up from that 20 minute nap with the 26 to go felt so
very, very bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was slow, I was
groggy, and what’s more, my right ankle was starting to get really, really
angry. It was swollen and hurt to flex, and every step was painful.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTg8ciiVe1kVJrdu1GES5UmZqU6aOFsgn1_YEsPHxxvlr6UivIggF3F6iJMPkF3WbBFywR9XQonYuC6jrkTKio-U8WtMDc-mT6LSNeQjEY-0dflkSsmPLZkXWVqGhyphenhyphen7MZd5dIBhkLxnY/s2048/CrookedRoadShirt2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTg8ciiVe1kVJrdu1GES5UmZqU6aOFsgn1_YEsPHxxvlr6UivIggF3F6iJMPkF3WbBFywR9XQonYuC6jrkTKio-U8WtMDc-mT6LSNeQjEY-0dflkSsmPLZkXWVqGhyphenhyphen7MZd5dIBhkLxnY/s320/CrookedRoadShirt2.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was purely a coincidence that I was wearing<br />my shirt from the Crooked Road race. The Jester <br />said I should take a sharpie and write "With a <br />Crooked Back" underneath!</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What was in my
arsenal?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Caffeine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want to drink it because my
stomach was sloshy, gurgly and in general unhappy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which also made it hard to breath – it felt
like nothing was moving, and that plus the lean just limited any room for
breath in my rib cage.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I took a NoDoz and kept moving.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJZmkw58XHmCcfEyyuJzHQQkzdvK68AiOR7TSCTg8ifANNePLwLhZbtGHS5MsQ13XTpM-7GEoNxgRH1L65OBjc03bwiNbXE40yLNda9XhAl0MC0JRVWLqBsAD8cYfq_3tWqj7qX6tBa0/s2048/Workinghard.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJZmkw58XHmCcfEyyuJzHQQkzdvK68AiOR7TSCTg8ifANNePLwLhZbtGHS5MsQ13XTpM-7GEoNxgRH1L65OBjc03bwiNbXE40yLNda9XhAl0MC0JRVWLqBsAD8cYfq_3tWqj7qX6tBa0/s320/Workinghard.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hurting. A lot. Dave saying "Just one more lap".</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was the right call for that moment and got me another 7
miles to 381 – 19 short of my goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was approximately 1 am or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My ankle
at this point was screaming – I was limping and it was hard to bend my right
foot upward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like a soft tissue
injury or tendonitis and I knew without any doubt or any remorse that I needed
to give up the 400 goal and take care of my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I came in to rest, hoping that with a few
hours of rest I could at least possibly get to 390.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slept until perhaps 4 – plenty of time, on
paper, to get in another 9 -15 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
gingerly stepped on to the RV floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That ankle didn’t feel good
at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked a lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked another
lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ankle screaming.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All I was going to do at this point, trying to get in any
more miles, was hurt myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was
no getting to 400… there was<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>no getting
to 390.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">OK then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back to
bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had 383.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I slept the sleep of the dead for another couple of hours
and woke up at sunrise, feeling both vaguely worried about my ankle as well as
remarkably content.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a Facebook
conversation with Scotty, who was also injured, suggesting maybe we could do a
hobble lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I taped up my ankle and with
the tape and wearing sandals instead of shoes, I could, it seems, walk a very
slow not horribly painful 30 minute mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was the time in a multi-day race when everyone who was sleeping
starts moving again – it is often a joyful time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People have made it through the darkness and
are almost at the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see Scotty and
we walk and cry together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love
Scotty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So damn much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxooatwTPZL3ciseuaupwSLCtbcONm0Qdf_AL8HfEGD-Wm8abXBEBppYGXYC-KSZZXSUswNlprDRenRViY9rvtTQZmZsnCwU10NrGk3PVAv2ewCUrzKYSOmRdTimFkpiedY6EqXFGLqPQ/s720/AmyScotty.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxooatwTPZL3ciseuaupwSLCtbcONm0Qdf_AL8HfEGD-Wm8abXBEBppYGXYC-KSZZXSUswNlprDRenRViY9rvtTQZmZsnCwU10NrGk3PVAv2ewCUrzKYSOmRdTimFkpiedY6EqXFGLqPQ/s320/AmyScotty.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking and Crying with Scotty</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I love all of these people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">John Beck, Linda, Fran, Al, Ke’mani,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fred (who had to leave early due to a family tragedy), Kootz
(son), Jim and Joan, Helen, Dave L, the McNulty's, Shamus, Mark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure I’m missing folks and I’m sorry. The
Fair… it’s special. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I actually was able to get in 2 more laps after I was done. I finished with 385 miles - enough for first place female, and 2nd overall. 115 miles shy of my A+++ goal. But hey... I nailed my "D" goal.</p><p class="MsoNormal">It was a good week.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZH683kmy0sFxu8CcA1MED3IfawXvZzuLyzrMvpBm1tN38NnStwcxkmV6i4bBEoeBJ5mKLy7mpFvNegeJRNgwrXGzVYbbyK8IdTT1YkANTsvzVdxfj07q6ubz6CluL_f47IWS0gmkITM/s960/GettingTrophy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZH683kmy0sFxu8CcA1MED3IfawXvZzuLyzrMvpBm1tN38NnStwcxkmV6i4bBEoeBJ5mKLy7mpFvNegeJRNgwrXGzVYbbyK8IdTT1YkANTsvzVdxfj07q6ubz6CluL_f47IWS0gmkITM/s320/GettingTrophy.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Receiving my award from RD Rick McNulty<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9Vlb-Ikl6e4-EHFKfsx_Cbk1GB3SESVINwbPxem8owG7eq61UhDcUSTJTUyfJDpRTasIcei8wsR91DDzP8h83NfNUaOq_42bAamG1S2P9_Ci9mXtnYj77WtNg1rh-l7_qNnYNPL8z0w/s1440/3+Years+Trophies.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9Vlb-Ikl6e4-EHFKfsx_Cbk1GB3SESVINwbPxem8owG7eq61UhDcUSTJTUyfJDpRTasIcei8wsR91DDzP8h83NfNUaOq_42bAamG1S2P9_Ci9mXtnYj77WtNg1rh-l7_qNnYNPL8z0w/s320/3+Years+Trophies.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3 years of beautiful 1st place trophies hand crafted <br />by Dave Lettieri - 72 hr, 48 hr, 144 hr<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">-----------------------</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><u>Postscript:</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So this has so far focused on my perspective as a racer but
what I also want to talk about is my crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because in this area, I was blessed beyond all measure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some months ago, Dave Oakley reached out to
me about my next 6 day race and asked if I had crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sad “no – are you offering”? <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes”.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I knew Dave was going to be great… I just didn’t realize how
special he was. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What can I say about Dave?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was my biggest cheerleader, he kept me focus and on pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got me everything I needed when I needed
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He worked with me on goal revision
and on strategy as my race started to deteriorate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He butchered my shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He got me, without exception, every last
thing I needed with regard to food, hydration, clothing, information, when I
needed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Above all, he let me run my
own race, set my own goals, and work with me on achieving them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was my rock.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thank you Dave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
humbled and awed by your support.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My cousin Rebecca as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She is the first family member to actually see me at a multi-day
event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She joined the crew on days 2 and
3 – I’m grateful she got to see me when I was still moving well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She got me fresh laundry after the rain
soaked outfits I’d planned for the next few days and when I had almost no dry
socks left.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">People. They amaze you. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><u>Postcript 2 (or - things you may or may not give a shit about)</u></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b>Food:</b></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Nutrition is always a crap shoot in ultras. I've always had trouble with hot races - particularly if I'm going fast, in that it is hard to find anything I can comfortable keep down without feeling nauseated. This race went amazingly well in that regard. I went slow enough that I never truly got nauseated, and was able to regularly take in calories without taking in so many that it was counterproductive. Day 1 (hot fast day) calories were largely liquid. A protein shake; a milkshake; soup. Day 2 - dry cereal and whole milk appealed a lot. I tried a bacon egg and cheese sandwich from the aid station, but the bread just felt dry and sticky in my dehydrated mouth, so I scraped the egg, cheese and bacon off of the bread and just ate that. Every morning after that, I ordered a "bacon egg and cheese in a cup, no bread" from the aid station. It was a gooey, salty cup of energy filled yum.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I drank a lot of whole milk - sometimes with instant coffee and sugar mixed in for a boost. I drank orange juice. Didn't eat a ton of the super sweet ultra food like poptarts - food this time consisted of more "real" food. Jen McNulty's homemade chicken soup was amazing, as were the quesadillas and burgers. My sister in law had sent me off with a batch of chocolate chip cookies, and my mom sent me with carrot cake. They were gone by the end of the race. (The carrot cake was a great vehicle for the whole milk - calories AND hydration).</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b>Foot Care:</b></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I had more issues with blisters than usual this race - possible because of the early humidity, heat and deluge rain. I didn't AVOID blisters, but I managed them. Got one the size of a second toe on day 2 which I lanced and RunGood. By day 3 I had Dave butcher my shoes to cut out the toe boxes and only ran in them for the rest of the race. Switched often between butchered Hokas and butchered Altras.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Sleep:</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">I got more sleep than in my last 6 day, but some of this was just because of the need to lie flat because of the lean. I think I could have gotten by with less had I been moving more comfortably. I still don't feel like i have this area remotely nailed. I am usually really good with either 20 or 90 minute "power" naps, but my last 20 minute power nap (definition: you hit the pillow and are IMMEDIATELY asleep for 20 mins) left me groggier than I started. Still more learning here - although I think every race is unique in the conditions that are handed to you.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Clothing:</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">I got this right. I was never truly uncomfortably cold - had enough layers even when walking slowly. This included hats, mittens, hand warmers, tights, buff, multiple layers. During the warmth of the day I generally stripped down to a jog bra. Ice bandanas kept me cool enough to keep moving on Days 1 and 2, which were much warmer than the rest of the week. Run skirts were comfortable and at night I could just pull on tights over them. Rain jacket was key. Garbage bag vest layer really helped during cold rain.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Garmin:</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Amazingly, I kept it charged for the entire race by having Dave keep my portable battery charged, and just carrying that and hooking to my watch as needed.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I think that's it - but if anyone has any other logistical questions, let me know and I will answer.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Peace.</p>Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-59465806696661059672020-02-23T18:56:00.001-08:002020-02-24T19:38:10.454-08:00A Tale of 2 Races<br />
A Tale of 2 Races – the Race That Wasn't, and the Race that
Was<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I went into Across the Years 48 hours with a big goal in my
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which could, in retrospect, have
been the problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem with big
goals is that they can get in the way of why I do this crazy sport in the first
place.<br />
<br />
Of course, another problem was (sorry Camille)…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Camille.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Which is to say, when the world 100 mile record holder jumps into a race
that you expect to podium in, perhaps even set an age group record in, it
messes with your head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or at least it
messed with mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Benjamin says it’s
good for me to have competition and its true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But it kind of felt like an elephant racing a gazelle and all I could
picture was Camille lapping me… and lapping me… and lapping me... on her way to the world record.<br />
<br />
OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So – 2 issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Big goals, and Camille.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Sorry Camille).<br />
<br />
The thing is – I was as prepared as I’ve ever been going
into a race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My training and performance
had been rock solid – and I was getting faster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just a month earlier I had only been one minute off of my marathon PR,
which had been set 5 years previously before I started running ultras.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t done anything CLOSE to that marathon
in the past 5 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Of course – I’d also had about the most stressful year
excepting the year of the Great Divorce of 2017 in that I'd lost my job
unexpectedly in August, conducted a nationwide job hunt, and moved across the
country to Seattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Small stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Anyway – I thought I was in pretty good shape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
BJ had driven since he was going to New Mexico after the
race, and also wanted to hang out and watch the 6 and 10 day racers, and I flew
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shopping had already been done, so
really I just needed a good night’s sleep and to set up the morning of the race
– which we did.<br />
<br />
So – here is another thing about day 1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had rained for days, and the course was
sloppy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because of my work schedule, I
had no ability to adjust my race start day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I didn’t learn until 5 minutes prior to race start that Camille would be
starting her race the next day, due to the wet course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a little bummed about this – if I was
going to be running in a race against Camille Herron, I kind of wanted to be running
on the same days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYpEJzdTqdv4wssKXHQ_lrCVHdxUafRZCLrsHtRY66526yoDOpJShsflibiMgMGExKl_Dl85x1D3gLlDryhI-VqSyvXL9hLVcewOgfvrRJopFHQPphfrdLk8Vz2uKXsQx1p8w-13bL7o/s1600/ATY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuYpEJzdTqdv4wssKXHQ_lrCVHdxUafRZCLrsHtRY66526yoDOpJShsflibiMgMGExKl_Dl85x1D3gLlDryhI-VqSyvXL9hLVcewOgfvrRJopFHQPphfrdLk8Vz2uKXsQx1p8w-13bL7o/s320/ATY.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
I went out at what felt like a moderately easy to sustain
pace, but which in retrospect was likely too fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hit 50 miles in 9 hours, which put me in
excellent shape to achieve my goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
the entire 50, my feet never felt great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My Achilles was bothering me no matter which shoes I switched to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, my gut was in bad shape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was nauseated and couldn’t eat much. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has been happening with regularity and I
still don’t have any answers, because without food, I can’t get the energy I
need to hit my goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, shortly
after I hit 50, the sun went down and the temperature plummeted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did another couple of laps and got to about
54 miles, and as I was approaching the aid station after coming through the
timing tent, I had the strongest feeling I’ve ever had of just wanting… to
stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Med Tent was right there… my
Achilles was screaming, my gut was clenched, and I felt a little dizzy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The though occurred to me that I could just
wander into that tent, and ask to lie down because I was dizzy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, it wouldn’t be my fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would be… a “medical issue”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That always looks better on Facebook.<br />
<br />
It was compelling.<br />
<br />
I ran past the Med tent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And slowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And turned around.<br />
<br />
In the end, it wasn’t the Med tent where I sought
relief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanting at least honesty in this
thing, I wandered back into the warming tent, and I sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
And sat.<br />
<br />
And sat.<br />
<br />
Minutes ticked by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
figured I’d better text BJ and let him know I was… sitting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
He, of course, told me to get moving<br />
<br />
“No.”<br />
<br />
“You’ve still got this thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have plenty of time.”<br />
<br />
“No.”<br />
<br />
I sat some more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
looked at my watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>15 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now 30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was sitting here watching my goals swirl down the toilet.<br />
<br />
BJ texted again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Just come to me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(He was on the
other side of the course).<br />
<br />
I tried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I headed out
of the tent and jogged a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good
God Damn it was cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My shirt was wet,
I was slow, and after 100 feet or so, shivering uncontrollably, I hobbled back
to the warming tent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That shit just
wasn’t happening.<br />
<br />
I was, however, finally able to eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which I did.<br />
<br />
I texted Bob Hearn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He asked me if I had any goals left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I replied “Well, I really want to see the Grand Canyon”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
At some point Jubilee came in and I told her I thought I was
done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She threw this idea into my
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asked if I had a hundred mile
buckle from ATY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Although I had a 200 and 400 mile buckle, I did not, in fact, have a 100 mile buckle</span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She suggested I take a break, regroup, get
dry and warm, and come back when the sun was up and get my hundred.<br />
<br />
That sounded good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
sounded like something I could do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
profoundly grateful. <br />
<br />
With that, I headed back out on to the course and started
moving again.<br />
<br />
I was moving amazingly well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The food an 90 minute break had given me spring in my step that I
thought I’d completely lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running
again, it felt like maybe I could do this thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
For about 11 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I lost it again, just out of the blue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rounded the bend, saw BJ’s car, and got in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For whatever reason, I just didn’t want to be
doing this race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> At all. I knew what was ahead of me and I just wanted no part of it.</span><br />
<br />
“What the hell are you doing”?<br />
<br />
“I want to get off this course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take me to a restaurant and a hotel”.<br />
<br />
“No.”<br />
<br />
We sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Another hour went by and BJ realized I wasn’t going back out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We headed to a Mexican restaurant and loaded
up on food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I posted to Facebook about
my situation, and we went back to the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I slept for 3 hours in the tent, headed out, and got up around 3:45am to
finish my hundred miles and get off the damn course.<br />
<br />
And that’s just what I did.<br />
<br />
The next morning wasn’t pretty. BJ was upset; I was stunned
and confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just didn’t know for the
life of me what had just happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d
never had a problem in a multi-day race and out of the blue I DNF’d.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just completely lost my mojo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
For what it's worth, Camille didn't have a great race either, running into hamstring issues after a blazing fast 100K. I've no doubt that one of these days she will be the world record holder at the 48 - but this wasn't that day. I did get to hang out with her after the race and enjoyed getting to know her better.<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihMhUIrtdrsAXvVFWk3V7bqVUrzBE0cn0p9E2uRx7-6jjZFlaXetRAmC3pIgzDLuo1CBMfYOo0_RF5-pdEhyphenhyphensi1FiBSvdMccxLpO26pyhHGTUYM8z1AHoONoRueny880LHVZfQwfAkEDM/s1600/PostATYAdamEliza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihMhUIrtdrsAXvVFWk3V7bqVUrzBE0cn0p9E2uRx7-6jjZFlaXetRAmC3pIgzDLuo1CBMfYOo0_RF5-pdEhyphenhyphensi1FiBSvdMccxLpO26pyhHGTUYM8z1AHoONoRueny880LHVZfQwfAkEDM/s320/PostATYAdamEliza.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best part of ATY 48 - hanging out with friends afterward. Adam, Eliza and Camille</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV59E54IIhsKiUyi9f6HuaQRo2uCrTp1xFarobO_TQgbz9fstIzqFJ4hT_GJfpNKRmiBz7gDgRWCeiFnvwpx-uzrLN_5iO-uL2CIAK9FEStluFUbCk3Vu_C4ry0__iCI91iZams6E7PjU/s1600/Amy+and+Melinda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV59E54IIhsKiUyi9f6HuaQRo2uCrTp1xFarobO_TQgbz9fstIzqFJ4hT_GJfpNKRmiBz7gDgRWCeiFnvwpx-uzrLN_5iO-uL2CIAK9FEStluFUbCk3Vu_C4ry0__iCI91iZams6E7PjU/s320/Amy+and+Melinda.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friend Melinda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
We chilled for that whole day – got in some rest, and
visited with the runners still on the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The next morning I got on a plane back to Seattle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flying back, I realized it was the first time
I’d come home from a multi-day without a trophy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t feel good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Worse, I needed to figure out just what had
happened in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized I needed
another race and needed it fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it
occurred to me that ATY had a special race it didn’t usually have – a hundred
miler, the following weekend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could come back and get some redemption on
the same course!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was signed up before
I arrived back in Seattle.<br />
<br />
Although this is a tale of 2 races, it isn’t a tale about
the next week’s hundred mile race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which
I came back, and won in 21 hours 11 minutes – my second best 100 mile time
ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was definitely some consolation
for my epic fail the week prior – but it wasn’t a multi-day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I still didn’t know how I’d handle my
next race over 24 hours.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIPkxIMuW0uk6nEkP85NWMEvaM5KF87FUof2Y2eswsg2ElkAy6qoeH69w17b015w0bUA4db4Xdwd7fXZJz7VhhDymB02_evpriZXFnp94tfb2WuV0qGB3aFU9TN95eWeyBtuJcCb30MXs/s1600/ATY100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIPkxIMuW0uk6nEkP85NWMEvaM5KF87FUof2Y2eswsg2ElkAy6qoeH69w17b015w0bUA4db4Xdwd7fXZJz7VhhDymB02_evpriZXFnp94tfb2WuV0qGB3aFU9TN95eWeyBtuJcCb30MXs/s320/ATY100.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ATY 100 miler - ran with joy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Enter Jackpot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was
a Las Vegas race in February with a 48 hour option.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My buddies Jill and Jess were signed up, and
it sounded appealing – and pretty easy to get to without burning any vacation
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I signed up.<br />
<br />
In the 3 weekends leading up to the race, I did 2 marathons
and a 50K as my long training runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All
went well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ironically, the last Sunday
before Jackpot I ran the Rock and Roll Marathon in New Orleans with my friend
Deb – my first flight heading out of New Orleans was late and I missed my
connection in Vegas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, a week before I
was going to be in Vegas racing, I was there by accident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did some exploring and bought some chocolate,
and figured out where I’d stay the following week.<br />
<br />
I did a one week taper going into the race – only ran 5
milers Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Smooth travels Thursday night, and headed out to race start Friday
morning.<br />
<br />
My entire goal for this race was to just stay on the course
until the end of the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went in
without time goals feeling as if the time goal had really sabotaged my last
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I intended, to the extent
possible, to enjoy myself and just take it easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
The weather promised to be stunning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sunny and 67 during the day on Friday, low 40’s
at night, then sunny and 70 on Saturday with a slightly warmer Saturday night
than Friday night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Race start was fun –
I got my picture taken with showgirls, Elvis and a pink Cadillac.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said hello to Connie Gardner, Pam Smith, Emily
Collins, Marisa Lizak and Pamela Chapman Markle who were all doing the 100 mile championship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I set up my own stuff under a pavilion right
next to Jill Hudson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2 minutes after the
100 mile fasties took off, we started our race.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkhW5mqx4IV_leuqKu8txmOSBW3706ftlfcyNusbeos82YVMAaanmJLPE10hSDhg0cK_pRyA65xuamcHo7KEi1-eLqC8wPksOaIMBsfM4IxjPWIBDi3EtHlUQnp1JnbGIpV5-jXnnFOM/s1600/PreRaceElvis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkhW5mqx4IV_leuqKu8txmOSBW3706ftlfcyNusbeos82YVMAaanmJLPE10hSDhg0cK_pRyA65xuamcHo7KEi1-eLqC8wPksOaIMBsfM4IxjPWIBDi3EtHlUQnp1JnbGIpV5-jXnnFOM/s320/PreRaceElvis.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I started out up front and just ran at an easy pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Loop 1 is always just getting to know the
course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which, I discovered, was
extremely varied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a 2.5 mile
course in a park – not exactly a loop, but more an out and back where the back
came back on a lower path than the out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Within the first mile, there was a gradual perhaps .5 mile uphill followed
by a fast down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The course included
sections that were dirt and crushed gravel, that were sidewalk, pavement,
grass, and the final .3 of a mile was a short rocky and uneven trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I actually enjoyed the variety quite a
bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
The first 50 miles of this race were very different than the
first 50 at ATY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First of all, I
intentionally took it slower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was my theory
that by going slower at the start, I’d have more in reserve for the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also hoped to minimize the nausea which has
seemed to become an inevitable part of my racing by not going out as hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My entire body felt better on this run – my feet
were in good shape, I had no nagging aches or pains, and I felt the pace was
maintainable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one issue I was a bit
concerned about was occasional bouts of sharp stabbing gut pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was particularly worrisome because the
2.5 mile course only had porto potties in one spot, so if my gut decided to
rebel suddenly on the outer loop, I was kind of sunk.<br />
<br />
Turned out…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
kind of sunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>8 or so miles in, the gut
emergency hit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next 1.25 miles to the porto was an exquisite kind of torture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> At</span> the porto potties my gut
went crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spent some quality
time in the little blue telephone booth, left, and immediately trotted back
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trot being the operative word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Medications were in order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
I always travel with Pepto Bismol, and that was my go to. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was amazingly revolting – and I ended up
with a little ring of pink chalkiness around my mouth – but it did the
trick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain and the trots both
subsided relatively quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas, not
so much the nausea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I continued on
the course I realized I was at the point of needing nutrition but my stomach
felt just locked up and nothing sounded good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I started losing a bit of energy and just focused on getting calories
how I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which pretty much was the occasional
ginger ale with ice, and 4 orange slices during the first 24 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I texted BJ and told him this wasn’t going to
be a PR race – which was fine by me because it wasn’t the goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, nausea aside, I was enjoying being out
there and had no intention or wish to leave the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wanted to be able to eat at some
point.<br />
<br />
The night passed and it was lovely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It got cold and we all bundled up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was thrilled to see Marisa finish strong in
the 15 hour and change mark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized
that I was on track for a PR 100 – however, my energy stores were low and I
thought I’d be better served by a short lie down than by chasing a 100 mile PR.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went down for 20 minutes, and a couple of
hours later decided I needed more, so took 90 more minutes off course
sleeping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is more than I normally
do in a 48, but it was what my body seemed to need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My general mantra is to not lie down if I’m not
going to actually sleep – but I did sleep both times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it was a good call, because getting
up from the second nap I had fresh energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was able to get my pace back down into the 12’s and 13’s for a
while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFuDqihV8bHfN7x3PLliyaziUJEJ2PYmel_n-EyknxAHVWBy8yO1kCCCsG-YXLQxcom2xZdjWKFM54DNKErEW5VQCogwMYzmofUcZPrPN6UBpsb8pYQAzWRmCd8yHgLyYEsxwpsIp57aE/s1600/GloriousSunrises.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFuDqihV8bHfN7x3PLliyaziUJEJ2PYmel_n-EyknxAHVWBy8yO1kCCCsG-YXLQxcom2xZdjWKFM54DNKErEW5VQCogwMYzmofUcZPrPN6UBpsb8pYQAzWRmCd8yHgLyYEsxwpsIp57aE/s320/GloriousSunrises.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stunning Sunrises</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
As it almost invariably does, dawn brought fresh energy and
hope, as well as the knowledge that I was about halfway into this thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the dawn, though, I was battling a
calorie deficit and was starting to feel a little bit woozy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps around mid-morning I saw Connie
Gardner, returned to the course showered and pretty after hitting an age group
mark in the hundred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She adopted me for
a bit, asking what I needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the
life of me, all I wanted in the world was a vanilla milkshake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed calories and still nothing seemed
palatable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Passing Connie she asked how
I was doing and I told her I didn’t feel right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Not right how?”, she asked?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“I don’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just don’t feel good.”<br />
<br />
She helped me put my feet up and asked what I had eaten.<br />
<br />
“4 orange slices and some ginger ale…”<br />
<br />
Well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clearly that
spelled it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Connie and Susan Hui
scouted around looking for food that my stomach would accept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We finally found a little chocolate pop-tarty
thing filled with peanut butter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
tasted dry as hell and I had a hard time washing it down, but my stomach
thought it was OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s more, it
brought me critically needed energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
got back out on the course with renewed purpose.<br />
<br />
The high point of the morning was seeing Marisa Lizak at the
awards ceremony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had followed
through on our brief verbal exchange in the middle of the night and… brought me
my milkshake!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She ran it over and I gave
her a big hug of congratulations and extraordinary gratitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the best milkshake of my life.<br />
<br />
Now that I had a good 700 cool frosty calories of sweetness
in me, the game was on again. I was moving smoothly and steadily and the day
just ticked by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was thrilled that
despite the fact that the weather had been forecasted to be warmer than the
previous day, the cloud cover made the sun seem less intense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day was pure pleasant – at least as
pleasant as day 2 in a 48 can be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sooner
than I would have expected, night came again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I didn’t have to bundle up for a while because night 2 was warmer than night 1 had been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually I got cold enough to need tights
and a fleece, so threw those on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best
thing (besides the milkshake) about day 2 was that my stomach had loosened up
and I could finally eat without feeling nauseated or having anything hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My favorite aid station food was cheesecake
bites, and also a little cup of Chef Boyardee ravioli.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Salty squishy digestible yumminess. I did discover a bit of a foot problem though. As I was running, I started feeling a burning localized pain in my left foot. Taking off my socks and shoes I realized the dryness of the course had sucked all of the moisture out of my feel and left them painfully dry and cracking. I had foolishly forgotten the Run Goo so took this time to slather it on and start healing my poor feet.<br />
<br />
<br />
I had moved into first place overall sometime late in the
daylight on day 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Behind me in the
female field were my new Seattle buddies Jess Mullen and Jill Hudson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jess was moving astoundingly well considering
she was only 5 weeks out from a stunning 10 day debut at ATY and Jill was on
her way to a resounding 48 hour PR at 48, also only 5 weeks out from a 6
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was also truly enjoying all of
the other runners on the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps
more than any race I’ve been to so far, with the possible exception of ATY, I
had many friends on the course, who always perked me up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tammie Massie, who generously lent me an
extra headlamp when my batteries died; Rachel Entrekin, who was well on her way
to killing the 24.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fast Eddie, looking
for an 80-84 age group record; Bill Dickey – encouraging word every lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kim Sergeant, Kit, Shirley and Mark – Tracy Thomas
during the first part of her hundred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
sure I’m missing folks but all helped move me along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Night 2 was just steady movement through the night. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was confident in my ability to get through
the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My ups were getting bonky – I
had a pretty steady run walk going on, but I needed to shake up some of the run
spots because what had worked yesterday was not working today, and was spiking
my heart rate into the 150’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The night
moved along – I had more ravioli.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
texted BJ with my goal of 180 – he told me, if I could, to shoot for 300K which
was 187.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That seemed doable and I set my
sights on that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2 hours before the end I
knew I was not only going to hit 300K, but would see 190.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was happy with that.<br />
<br />
I spent my last lap on the course will Jill – which seemed
fitting as 2 out of my last 3 long training runs were with her in Seattle
races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is one of my new very favorite
people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, even more wonderful, right
before we hit the finish line, Jess Mullen jogged up behind us, so the 3
Seattle babes finished together in a sweep – first, second and third place
women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It… was amazing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoq9_849CRvO-gjus5coyoGFyaT-wQd_5zpqwcP0JfX8QKb7lgYu6YE_D-SMLHrs-u2N337fRB-kiniVQGt5fyPlbqFTmsT2bOzsWEPE3NjTjHyyi8DLAKH9q-1JknPLZknz9AXTVkvHw/s1600/SeattleSweep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoq9_849CRvO-gjus5coyoGFyaT-wQd_5zpqwcP0JfX8QKb7lgYu6YE_D-SMLHrs-u2N337fRB-kiniVQGt5fyPlbqFTmsT2bOzsWEPE3NjTjHyyi8DLAKH9q-1JknPLZknz9AXTVkvHw/s320/SeattleSweep.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This race gave me everything I was looking for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My only goal in the race was to stay the
course –which I did with relative joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
found my multi-day again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By moving away
from a big mileage goal, I was able to get out there and enjoy the people, the
course and the experience – and still do pretty well mileage wise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There will be other races for big
numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was not that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was Elvis and showgirls, a Pink Cadillac
and cheesecake bites.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Las Vegas dry
sunshine, hills, rocks, beautiful sunrises and sunsets and lots and lots of
ducks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A rolling fall on the rocky part of the trail, watching the
100 miler fasties hit their records; running into the finish with friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This race was why I do this thing.<br />
<br />
A Tale of Two Races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The one that wasn’t, and the one that was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I needed the first to get to the
second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In any case, it happened and I
can never take it away. <br />
<br />
But I’ve found my multi-day again.<br />
<br />
Thank goodness.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_qarI5GANcMzBTy20Ocl5OcG2ByHBbLnD6vo891s8ldM1OVpklhO_SDUNGE4C86LToe5jjOjhjxcRecLT4Yrd2-v3vb5-h7Fyo9IRrYBodJV0i31B1AH4ljLUT3c-T7qtVApES6J99qc/s1600/SeattleAmazing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_qarI5GANcMzBTy20Ocl5OcG2ByHBbLnD6vo891s8ldM1OVpklhO_SDUNGE4C86LToe5jjOjhjxcRecLT4Yrd2-v3vb5-h7Fyo9IRrYBodJV0i31B1AH4ljLUT3c-T7qtVApES6J99qc/s320/SeattleAmazing.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seattle Badassery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-71246043805821100192019-10-24T17:47:00.001-07:002019-10-24T17:51:06.017-07:00Running with the Gods - Spartathlon 2019<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsT34S3LDzTmDgYPTFV9Lii_oCC9MTPz8ZrRx26ytgzU8R4OyAqBVmBSjiiEwQ1X7jWWbOEJJLKQfKG9qCa58b6eQg0dyenx8cZGX0qjxbj18PWLr-L4XVnbI3gIMR8idr0gMRfnhtIsc/s1600/Sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="933" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsT34S3LDzTmDgYPTFV9Lii_oCC9MTPz8ZrRx26ytgzU8R4OyAqBVmBSjiiEwQ1X7jWWbOEJJLKQfKG9qCa58b6eQg0dyenx8cZGX0qjxbj18PWLr-L4XVnbI3gIMR8idr0gMRfnhtIsc/s320/Sign.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<h3>
Spartathlon - this way...</h3>
<br />
I<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">t was a race I had never even really considered. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I came out of my 6 day race last New Years a changed
runner. The race had been physically
grueling, but even more challenging was the mental recovery. For weeks – perhaps months afterwards, I felt
conflicted about my relationship with running.
I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go with it, and it seemed in some way
meaningless. I was signed up for 6 Days
at the Dome, but mentally I knew I wasn’t ready to go back and take on another
6 day that soon after ATY. I sent out a
plea on Facebook asking for races that might ignite passion. I wanted shorter; I wanted different; I
wanted new and exciting and something that was not in a loop (although I love
those). I wanted a journey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob Hearn suggested Spartathlon. He used a gentle touch… just put in the
application, he said. Even if you get
accepted, you don’t need to make a decision until May.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hmmm. Why not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was at work one day and saw a text on my phone from Bill
Schultz. He was congratulating me on
making the team.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Whaaaaa????</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I jumped online and saw Emily Collins’ Facebook post with
the team pick. Oh. My.
God. I was on the US Spartathlon
team. If I wanted it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wanted it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I completed the paperwork; I put my money
down… and then, I began to get worried.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am not fast. The
early cutoffs, I knew, were brutal.
Despite the fact that it has a 36 hour cutoff for the full 153 miles,
the 50 mile cutoff was at a mere 9 hours 30 minutes. My 50 mile PR at that point was a 9:10, and
I’d only done that once. And from what
I’d heard, some of the early cutoffs were even worse.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There was every chance I would not be able to finish the
race… not because I couldn’t do 153 in 36 hours, but because I might not be
able to do 50 in 9:30.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A plan was in order.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h3>
Training</h3>
<div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I lined up a coach. Shannon McGinn graciously agreed to
coach me toward my goals for this event.
I started keeping a training log, which she reviewed and critiqued each
week. She urged me to build in more
hills, and to work in some speed training, both of which I did. Hills I enjoy and tackle joyfully but speed
is another thing. Fortunately I had
started regularly running with my friend Katie on Mondays and Tuesdays. Katie is fast. On Katie days, I’d usually run about 5 or 6
miles starting at 3:30 am and meet her at 4:45 – she’d join me for 10 miles and
I’d do the last 3 on my own. These days
became my tempo runs, and Katie’s slow runs.
Win win.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In addition to the regular running, I decided to throw in a
12 hour race over the summer and try to get as close as I could to 70
miles. My usual strategy is to never run
uncomfortably, but I knew to meet those cutoffs I’d need to be uncomfortable,
so the plan was to run as hard as I could sustain for 12 hours. Katie came to Ethan Allen with me and I
managed to hit 67.9924 (WTF? hoping for 68) miles. It
was good enough for the win, but even better, met my goals of a hard long
run. I started feeling more confident.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Also starting mid-July, (after a year of BJ urging me to do so), I started run commuting. This gave me the benefit of both being able
to get in a few more miles, a bit more sleep, and some good downhill practice
on the last 2 miles every day into DC. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The final pivotal workout was a run with Larry Huffman. In preparation for his Cascade Crest race we
went over to Maryland Heights trail to get in some vert. Each loop was about 3.8 miles - 1.9 up up up with
1200 feet of climb, then down down down over terrifying rocks and roots. Our plan was 5 loops to get in about 18 miles
with 6K of climb. On loop 3 I went down,
and shortly after, rolled my ankle.
There was a golf ball sized lump on the outside of the ankle later that
evening, but I was thrilled to find on my run the next day that the ankle
didn’t bother me at all. My quads, on
the other hand…. Clearly got what they needed. It took a few days to reap the rewards, but reap them I did.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h3>
The World Crashes in<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Everything was feeling like positive forward momentum until
I went to work one day 4 weeks before the race and to my gut wrenching surprise came
home without a job. It was as if my
entire world had crumbled. The air was
sucked out of the room as I learned of this, and I felt a ringing in my
ears. It seemed impossible that just
when I felt as on top of the world as I ever had with my running, something
like this could happen.</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At that moment I didn’t see how I could possibly do the
race. Suddenly the only priority in my
life was to become employed as quickly and as gainfully as possible. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Once again I became quickly confused about my running. Because the job loss had come as I continued
to build up the running, the two became connected in my head and it was almost
impossible to feel positive about running.
On the other hand… it is what I do.
A new routine quickly developed.
Get up early, head out for 20-22, and come home and apply for jobs. All day.
Generally until bedtime. Get up
and do it again the next day. And the
next. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After 2 weeks of this existence, the payoff started to come
in the form of interview requests, and I started being able to breathe
again. I made the decision to continue
the race despite the poor timing, and just work the job search in and around
the trip. </span><br />
<br />
<h3>
Headed to Greece</h3>
<div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sooner that I could have possibly believed, it was just a
week before the race and I actually needed to plan and pack. It had been a big decision point whether to
get the vacation part done before or after the race. I had ultimately decided to do it before,
mostly because it would use up 1-2 less vacation days. Which turned out to be a moot point, but
that’s how it was that we left for Greece a full week before the race was to
start.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We spent 2 days exploring Athens, another 2 hanging out on
one of the islands, and then headed back to Glyfada to check in to the race
hotel. Seeing all the other runners
arrive and heading over to registration, for the first time the reality that I
was going to do this thing really started to hit. I adopted my usual tactic, which was to
ignore that fact for as long as possible.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbG4BKon9hA8hyX6GxyA6GZ61kmqZjj1pTB1KzPM-nA8R30iPQzK730UdvdcRNQO8aZa8eY7fYpbisV_tJPMTX7zmKcNHpM131piI4PwYo-NJ0Mtrfs8ofSO8E2w0fTAv9Ny-9MxFiSpE/s1600/AmyAcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbG4BKon9hA8hyX6GxyA6GZ61kmqZjj1pTB1KzPM-nA8R30iPQzK730UdvdcRNQO8aZa8eY7fYpbisV_tJPMTX7zmKcNHpM131piI4PwYo-NJ0Mtrfs8ofSO8E2w0fTAv9Ny-9MxFiSpE/s320/AmyAcrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking Out the Acropolis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSgMB3-7Q7y06xMOyhUPRYbkt5WN2ThPknYbJ988z4l8Jx_uO5JTuEe95PbXWd-fvQqZ4ulR9dUiBBh1suMcyabdqTbagA2Icupeu9imG20jjAXiqpJdPQfcC4EVuSvwNcfkJTD6elIo/s1600/MyLovey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSgMB3-7Q7y06xMOyhUPRYbkt5WN2ThPknYbJ988z4l8Jx_uO5JTuEe95PbXWd-fvQqZ4ulR9dUiBBh1suMcyabdqTbagA2Icupeu9imG20jjAXiqpJdPQfcC4EVuSvwNcfkJTD6elIo/s320/MyLovey.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BJ and the Ruins</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytHpTZ0iuMGonBDEW9KZ3h3LTSp9s3BXKRlMfxDdH6GEjYiEkuzWiqFEed7pPXhaI-ziVRDlR4IbpdxnGqnyvI24Rx7qd_Ouovh-gOe3H68ahG7n45YfsrJnDppaas5XiThwKAEnMweg/s1600/Pistachios.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytHpTZ0iuMGonBDEW9KZ3h3LTSp9s3BXKRlMfxDdH6GEjYiEkuzWiqFEed7pPXhaI-ziVRDlR4IbpdxnGqnyvI24Rx7qd_Ouovh-gOe3H68ahG7n45YfsrJnDppaas5XiThwKAEnMweg/s320/Pistachios.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aegina Island was famous for pistachios</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-R6zXHjb0q9Xiadj2BPbIJWJmpUxcfgzdgHYRfaC8UixY8jx50fLF2RwKmrA-gsCk5YllnydcEmACAMQTrmqTp5_XG4A7lUoyXRoyfKGc7ljh-Ek0P4hlUESLWk1ppuJ7L6BVSSk8sY/s1600/TopofWorldWithBJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-R6zXHjb0q9Xiadj2BPbIJWJmpUxcfgzdgHYRfaC8UixY8jx50fLF2RwKmrA-gsCk5YllnydcEmACAMQTrmqTp5_XG4A7lUoyXRoyfKGc7ljh-Ek0P4hlUESLWk1ppuJ7L6BVSSk8sY/s320/TopofWorldWithBJ.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of Mount Lycobettus</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ugmGC2wQVBjILlTs9f9bL_EbECOFuoJp9mYtPtts9pMXt2p4qN3xjEVY299Tvi4cTcPA2A2u31NZEE19w82T0N6sZtFJGlI0P1DYeWRhfmyQmaU6eyfaTGkp27G9JPw9pqMn-QIpjnY/s1600/ViewFromTheTop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ugmGC2wQVBjILlTs9f9bL_EbECOFuoJp9mYtPtts9pMXt2p4qN3xjEVY299Tvi4cTcPA2A2u31NZEE19w82T0N6sZtFJGlI0P1DYeWRhfmyQmaU6eyfaTGkp27G9JPw9pqMn-QIpjnY/s320/ViewFromTheTop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vNQrQ2yRwlVMAZ-fVZjO0OFyhBIMMoLFfLccAsPdt-xjCITE7Zrdk9vN4XeoJJt_hJvW06MlSbeLx17ofzALy64f5GckcBh5Na4oJCrCzczkLMtBoiwTjg5OCLGoJIhOZuQckF0Z-To/s1600/Sitting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vNQrQ2yRwlVMAZ-fVZjO0OFyhBIMMoLFfLccAsPdt-xjCITE7Zrdk9vN4XeoJJt_hJvW06MlSbeLx17ofzALy64f5GckcBh5Na4oJCrCzczkLMtBoiwTjg5OCLGoJIhOZuQckF0Z-To/s320/Sitting.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob Hearn had graciously agreed to crew me, as he had just
done the Dome several weeks earlier and knew he wouldn’t be running this
year. I was thrilled beyond belief to
have his expertise and love of the course as a guiding force. Interestingly I didn’t know Bob well at all
prior to the race. I had only just met
him in person at D3 when I went as a fan, and then BJ and I helped to crewed him at the
Dome. I certainly got to know him a bit
at the Dome, but those 2 events were the only times I’d seen him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob arrived around 10 on Wednesday night. We talked for about an hour, then met for
breakfast and a short run the next day.
Bob, BJ and I went sightseeing to Poseidon’s Temple for the day on
Thursday, which allowed me to ignore the impending race for a few more
hours. And then it was pre-race meeting
time and dinner, and there was no ignoring anything. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw629wFAV3l5mnLAGowLe-v0uEDr9_QVJsG1DBGJ9r_Qb5EHMtsZfTdcWPSV0abIEKmrTpGO2yEcPbGAfDrY11y5vTLVB14te8zfpCeqt2lzAJ_vUTsIo4un4B2GCdfCs-E4DeIESgoZo/s1600/AmyBob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw629wFAV3l5mnLAGowLe-v0uEDr9_QVJsG1DBGJ9r_Qb5EHMtsZfTdcWPSV0abIEKmrTpGO2yEcPbGAfDrY11y5vTLVB14te8zfpCeqt2lzAJ_vUTsIo4un4B2GCdfCs-E4DeIESgoZo/s320/AmyBob.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A trip to Poseidon's Temple</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsORDON3XB5Hx6MRy9qxveXkLgAZ-_vdo0eiLzdzgDnoVqiLr39n6qxPUchsfEM2mVkdaChpZu1_qD2pH111FtPSvmeSDQvLAoVfPWWRxCGr2seh0H-1KjSAGDs2huKs5ORD70NLFPE58/s1600/AmyBeej.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1262" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsORDON3XB5Hx6MRy9qxveXkLgAZ-_vdo0eiLzdzgDnoVqiLr39n6qxPUchsfEM2mVkdaChpZu1_qD2pH111FtPSvmeSDQvLAoVfPWWRxCGr2seh0H-1KjSAGDs2huKs5ORD70NLFPE58/s320/AmyBeej.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob brought down the list of cut-off times
along with “slow times” and “fast times” for me to follow. There was an aid station every 2 miles, and
each one of those stations was a potential cut-off point. I gulped as I looked at the “slow” arrival
time versus the cutoff. As an example,
the first aid station was at 2.4 miles.
Bob gave me a “fast” time of 20 minutes to arrive there, a “slow” time
of 26 minutes, and the cut-off itself was 30 minutes. Considering I often will start the first few
miles of a long run or race in the 11’s, I realized I’d be arriving somewhere
between slow and cutoff. Each and every
cut-off point was terrifyingly close to my normal “slow easy” pace. Ok then.
I had to run faster than that.
For 50 miles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Game on.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<h3>
Race Day</h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I slept amazingly well, and we headed down to our 5am
breakfast. It was relatively light –
which was good. I’ve been known to eat
too heavily before a race which can lead to some early discomfort. We drove over to the race start and started
milling around at the base of the lit-up Acropolis waiting for race start. The amount of energy was incredible, and it
was special to see all the different teams sporting their country’s uniforms. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob urged me to get as far to the front as possible, noting
that cutoff times were based on gun time and not chip time – I could
potentially lose a few precious minutes fighting the crowd. I got myself as far up to the front as
possible. And…. It was go time. There was a 3-2-1 countdown and off we went
down the cobblestone path.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The first mile, I was thrilled to learn, was all downhill
alongside the Acropolis. Despite the fact that usually my first mile is always 10:30-11
or so, this one was in the 9’s. As was
mile 2. As was mile 3. Hmmmm.
This was not like me. It also
seemed like taper had worked – my 5 mile days for the past week plus an
abundance of hydration gave me comfortable speed I didn’t usually have. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I hit the first aid station well before the cutoff and kept
going. Shortly after the Acropolis we
headed into a much more industrial station.
There were lots of early morning commuters out, and we ran for a ways
along a busy road filled with cars, trucks, some unattractive landscape and
quite a few fumes. I don’t have a good
sense of how long this terrain lasted.
We got to the second aid station and again I was still in the 9’s and
still easily within the cutoff. It might
have been shortly after that that I found myself running with Nadia from
Belgium. Nadia had run the race before
and had timed out shortly after the mountain.
Her goal this time was to finish. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We ran together comfortably for miles and miles. It turned out Nadia spoke 7 different languages. A German joined us for a bit and she spoke to
him in German. Alex from Mexico was with
us on a beautiful section overlooking the water and she chatted easily with him
Spanish. I just ran, grateful to have
the company.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was actually pretty happy with the weather so far. Everyone had talked about the brutal heat,
but it still felt like it was only in the low 80’s, not too humid and there was
a breeze. After the sticky swamp that
was DC running in the summer, it was pleasant. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The marathon point was the first place where I’d be able to
hook up with my crew. I was really
looking forward to seeing BJ and Bob although at this point I didn’t need too
much aid. I flew into the aid station
and it took a minute for Bob and BJ to see me.
Bob did not look happy. “You are
17 minutes ahead of the fast time!” he chastised. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"></span><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Yeah – I know – but it’s OK – I ran comfortably” I said
perkily. He remained worried and urged
me to take more walk breaks (I hadn’t actually taken any) in order to slow down
a bit. I sucked down a cold soda, and
Bob and BJ cooled me down just for a second with the ice in a bowl they’d
gotten, and I headed off. I’d lost Nadia
in the aid station, but I thought that might not be a bad thing… It was possible she had been pulling me a
bit, and without her next to me I was in less danger of going too fast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8G2nraikPaw6XFcGRI_KHfUgMrIBUhqNPacm0EB26O7Nf6QOuBqWOR3olPa1krV3Hz6tP1PQAcjWk07m3viSI2OemkQHPGU6H3SqVvRcHa3jjmS8f5kl7jEiC-vDu4Wt4s7viUnDS6o/s1600/RunningByWater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8G2nraikPaw6XFcGRI_KHfUgMrIBUhqNPacm0EB26O7Nf6QOuBqWOR3olPa1krV3Hz6tP1PQAcjWk07m3viSI2OemkQHPGU6H3SqVvRcHa3jjmS8f5kl7jEiC-vDu4Wt4s7viUnDS6o/s320/RunningByWater.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out of Athens the views improved...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next 24 miles continued to go well. By mile 47 or so it was started to get really
hot. I started to build in little walk
breaks and jog a bit slower since I was well ahead of 9:30 cutoff at 50
miles. My primary race goal – the one
thing I thought I had to do here – was to get to the 50 mile point and beat the
cutoff. I always figured if I could do that,
I’d have it made. I could take it a bit
easier for the rest of the race and just run my “Amy” running and get it
done. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But it was, as I said, getting hot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Coming into Corinth was like joining a big
party. It was only the 2<sup>nd</sup>
time I was able to see my crew (I’d be able to see them much more frequently
after this), and at this point I was in need of nutrition and cooling. Bob and BJ were there waiting for me with my
liquid nutrition – they had been unable to find protein drinks, but had found
plain Kefir. This certainly seemed to go
down more easily than any of the pretty dry food at the aid stations. I was starting to feel nauseous so definitely
planned to go a bit more easily after 50. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifm5aQz4m4op4zW5JOcuuo-keNL6Pb58_wXzFvCbMyIjLVYkHEFfHwZeVCUZvRpMOTAuZliWMLDa9Li8kTt48KxBfGZMJKDBwWEyliNWVlnhjUWrMyghH5FRusF9VlILydoYMNk-xnsSQ/s1600/RunningByRuins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifm5aQz4m4op4zW5JOcuuo-keNL6Pb58_wXzFvCbMyIjLVYkHEFfHwZeVCUZvRpMOTAuZliWMLDa9Li8kTt48KxBfGZMJKDBwWEyliNWVlnhjUWrMyghH5FRusF9VlILydoYMNk-xnsSQ/s320/RunningByRuins.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Those first few post-50 miles were great. I felt euphoric – I had passed the worst of
the cut-offs – they all got easier from here on in, and I was still feeling
good. For about 5 miles. At which point I started feeling decidedly
not good. Nausea was coming in waves and
sapping my energy. 2 miles from the 58 mile aid station where I could meet Bob
and BJ again, I did the entire mile at a walk.
I texted BJ to let him know I was going to need something for nausea,
and more chocolate milk and seltzer to get some calories. In just a few miles I had gone from feeling
on top of the world to feeling like I might drop. It didn’t feel as if I could muster the
energy to keep going.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That next aid station was pivotal. I sat for 10 minutes while Bob and BJ
attended to cooling me down, helping with nausea and getting some fuel into
me. I got something for my stomach,
drank some seltzer and chocolate milk, and bathed my head, arms, neck and
wrists in ice. I headed out already
feeling much better, and within about 20 minutes I had found my happy place
again. I trotted on in complete
contentment. It was getting cooler and I
felt considerably recovered and ready to tackle this thing again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTA5XDoMA7TalwO84OYYz_mKKZEJePUEkJz9e_tr5bQP8WAvNWdRHnUAoAXXTPOubk15cEUXmbO7RRnM98duUDdzDSeeAQxbUuUAhg5rfH-a9uhUnfSCOXpLouQPLuUAPQ00JedMPm0w/s1600/GearingUp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTA5XDoMA7TalwO84OYYz_mKKZEJePUEkJz9e_tr5bQP8WAvNWdRHnUAoAXXTPOubk15cEUXmbO7RRnM98duUDdzDSeeAQxbUuUAhg5rfH-a9uhUnfSCOXpLouQPLuUAPQ00JedMPm0w/s320/GearingUp.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gearing up for night time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have to say I don’t remember a whole lot from the 100K
mark to the 99 mile mark. There was one
section Bob told me about saying it was a really long dirt road climb –
probably steep enough that walking would be idea. Then I’d have a good down for quite a while –
until I got to the base of the mountain.
The dirt road was indeed a bit of a climb. I saw some folks trying to run it, but I was
content to largely power hike it knowing there was a down on the other
side. That dirt road climb seemed to go
on and on, but eventually I got to the top and started running down. The view on the way down was great. First of all, the down seemed to go on
forever. Second of all, way off in the
distance was a string of lights – which I figured was my destination. Which indeed was the case.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was dark and there were sparking lights and I was feeling
good. Dark can be a magical running time
for me. During my normal life, most of
my running is in the early morning dark.
I draw strength from the dark coolness, and the lights in the distance
added a sense of allure and magic. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I knew from Bob that somewhere around mile 94 I would start
climbing – there was going to be about 2000 feet of climb over 5 miles, and
then I would be at mountain base. He
suggested I walk the section up to the mountain, which I did. By and large most of the field was power
hiking this section, but there were a few beefy women who passed me and I was
wondering whether I’d be better off running.
Maybe next time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Even with the slow ascent, eventually I reached mountain
base, where BJ and Bob were waiting to send me off. It would be 7 miles before I saw them again –
and I didn’t quite realize what a long 7 miles it would be. Bob walked me up to the start of the real
climb. I looked up and saw a string of
red lights which appeared to go straight up, and I swore like a sailor. Over
1000 feet of gain in a mile… but what made it even more challenging was the terrain. It reminded me of the “Roller Coaster”
section of the Appalachian trail. Rocky
and uneven, lots of loose gravel. The
trail itself was perhaps 5 feet wide, and on the right there was a ribbon
strung between poles demarcating the edge of the trail. It was certainly not a ribbon that would
prevent anyone from falling off the edge, and I took care to stay as close to
the inside as possible. I wouldn’t
describe the edge of the trail as a cliff per se – but it was steep enough that
serious damage could be done by falling, and I took care not to do that. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxo-SsQXUlLooOs3Wo9U9uVYlLk7F3JaXqc80AlXNhGQSMSqZcy0SdwPw1yZz6SvU-OAjzsuKSSMcgfWjAP7Y4-u7JA66ljinF-hkmTohuO4zPwiA2dCHdUaMEgEaL_ZH3ha8P40htow/s1600/Mountain1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxo-SsQXUlLooOs3Wo9U9uVYlLk7F3JaXqc80AlXNhGQSMSqZcy0SdwPw1yZz6SvU-OAjzsuKSSMcgfWjAP7Y4-u7JA66ljinF-hkmTohuO4zPwiA2dCHdUaMEgEaL_ZH3ha8P40htow/s320/Mountain1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mountain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPc3Jfh-Ctwrit-o9afaZbzOiN_TECww0qa9VwSVciZkdRI8Q9IADmsKEUH68-hRly45wm01b_KjlKWacRjXBynKzuVd-GR6TZRQNW2VRwjuUs47CDoBKfW_GrhFgpi2oYhcxIFTUxx0/s1600/Mountain2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPc3Jfh-Ctwrit-o9afaZbzOiN_TECww0qa9VwSVciZkdRI8Q9IADmsKEUH68-hRly45wm01b_KjlKWacRjXBynKzuVd-GR6TZRQNW2VRwjuUs47CDoBKfW_GrhFgpi2oYhcxIFTUxx0/s320/Mountain2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My legs were pretty tired at this point, and the footing,
for me, as a road racer, was challenging.
I took the climb as conservatively as I could – which is to say, at a
snail’s pace. That first mountain mile
took me 40 minutes. As predicted, it got
colder as I approached the top, and was downright chilly at the summit. Fortunately I had put on warm gear at the
base so I wasn’t overly cold. I took
about a 5 minute rest at the top – the volunteers wrapped me in something warm
and I just sat for a few minutes until I was mentally ready to head down. And down I went.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had been led to expect that I wouldn’t be able to run the
down, and that was absolutely true.
Although the trail seemed wider on the way down, the surface was covered
with scree – loose rocks that just skittered all over the place when you landed
funny on them. I carefully picked my way
down, looking for good footing – but every once in a while just skidding
several feet forward. I did not like
this at all. I heard some male voices
behind me – they were laughing and having a good time. I wasn’t sure if they were racers or
hikers but what I WAS sure about was that they were laughing at my overly cautious descent. Then, to my left, I saw a nimble
runner just bounding like a jackrabbit over this killer terrain. Lightfooted and swift, he was making this mountain
his own. I was pretty sure it was Andrew
Snope – one of the Americans and a skilled and fleet trail runner. I was envious of his magical descent as I
arduously ground my way downward.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Eventually I reached terra firma again – which is to say,
paved road. I wasn’t sure how much run
my unhappy quads had left in them, but I had lost enough time on the mountain
that I had to try. I broke into an easy
trot and was thrilled that it felt just fine.
I had a few miles to go before I’d see Bob and BJ again but now that the
mountain was behind me, I pretty much felt I was up to anything. The 3 road miles passed quickly enough and I
finally got to see my crew. I had taken
so long on the mountain that BJ was really worried. Bob, on the other hand, knew the terrain I
was facing and was pretty calm. Going
into the mountain I had been about 90 minutes ahead of cutoffs – coming out, I’d
lost 20 minutes of that gain. However, I
had a bit of down in front of me and took full advantage of it. Bob was amazed, after two aid stations, when
I made up almost all of that 20 minutes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After the mountain, there was a pretty long stretch of
gentle winding and rolling country roads.
Bob had told me he hated that section because it was always super dark
and not as well marked and he just zoned out and got lost a few times. However, it was getting light as I approached
that section, as I was much slower than Bob, and in the misty dawn, I adored
that section. Although the day was
supposed to get hot, the morning was cool and foggy. The country roads and the little towns
reminded me amazingly of Cooperstown, New York where I had discovered long
distance running. That was one of my favorite
sections of the entire course. I was
feeling good and strong and all my previous nausea had dissipated. I was able to start eating more at the aid
stations, and even though there were 35 or so miles to go, I was smelling the
barn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometime around 11am the sun suddenly and ferociously came
out. It went from cool and pleasant to
blazing hot in a heartbeat. More of the
aid stations seemed to have ice available than on day 1, which was a
relief. I started trying to estimate my
finish time based on miles to go. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZoLLxqqSeLXzTsdLsrq_SpnETcxUACZawjYR6iWzS2CnwYKAPLaZ6cWtRwr_m-I82pzg1Wc4k3MWb3e5e-JcxKF1Nbljpv9Q5c2GRhUyYonXUkrTqLktyrdW8wrmTaDrG0GFNz8V4bX4/s1600/Fave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZoLLxqqSeLXzTsdLsrq_SpnETcxUACZawjYR6iWzS2CnwYKAPLaZ6cWtRwr_m-I82pzg1Wc4k3MWb3e5e-JcxKF1Nbljpv9Q5c2GRhUyYonXUkrTqLktyrdW8wrmTaDrG0GFNz8V4bX4/s320/Fave.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Happy Place</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Day 2 early afternoon was just steady hot progress. Not much to comment on. I recall a bit of up, and switchbacks. Had to stop at least once to find some bushes
for a potty stop. (Did I mention there were zero porto potties? Or if there was one or two, they were very well
hidden). I recall going up a hot sunny
hill and seeing blackberries growing on the side of the road. I picked some and ate them and forged on. Sometime with about 30 miles to go, Bob told
me “this is where your race starts… you
are a multi-day runner. This is where
you get stronger. Run steady on the
flats and kill it on the downs.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So that is what I did.
Dug deep, pulled out some giddy-up, and got going. And started passing
folks. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was hot. Really
hot. I added a bit of mileage on to my
run by crossing the road every time there was an opportunity for shade. Doused myself with water at every aid
station. Ran on. The next time I saw Bob, he said “you were 20
minutes faster than we expected you! “ </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I said “I’m doing what you told me to do…”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mid to late afternoon I reached the magic aid station. Once again BJ and Bob were there. Bob said “just go to the to</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">p of this hill,
cross over the timing mat, and then it is all downhill. For the next 13 miles. “ </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Down. 13 miles of
down. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bliss. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Off to my right there were craggy Alp-like mountains that
reminded me of a scene from the Sound of Music.
There were gentler mountains in front.
The road wound down switch backing through little picturesque towns. I got one more opportunity to see Bob and BJ
about 6 miles from the end. I was
starting to feel nauseous again and I told them I was probably going to take it
slow. Bob said “you have a sub 34 in
you, but not if you don’t run.” Sub
34. I liked the sound of that. I picked up a trot and headed out to the last
6.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I saw Emily Collins about 3 miles before the end. It was wonderful to see a friendly face. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; float: left; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSN8pObMAsJeTI6NfJ3bRzGAIWhL5UfvjAqN2DksUYJp-SnVnUuizh4yyIO-fgvBlra5SrGsSePTka7t9JdJlJqGeOkWkhmOQ_ckl4MumaZlFd2sFI_8EH_SWrfSjZBqe6Nm4rcxP3qA/s1600/AMyBobComingIn2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1522" data-original-width="1360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSN8pObMAsJeTI6NfJ3bRzGAIWhL5UfvjAqN2DksUYJp-SnVnUuizh4yyIO-fgvBlra5SrGsSePTka7t9JdJlJqGeOkWkhmOQ_ckl4MumaZlFd2sFI_8EH_SWrfSjZBqe6Nm4rcxP3qA/s320/AMyBobComingIn2.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="284" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 80%; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Coming in with Bob</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
She looked as hot as I felt. We exchanged hellos and I forged on. Down into Sparta now, and it was getting more
congested. I was running on sidewalks,
over a bridge. I knew I had about 2 km
to go. I was still throwing in some walk
breaks because I wanted to make it to the finish strong and I was pretty sapped
from the heat. A more crowded
street. People cheering. Arrows pointing to the right. Very crowded now and I see Jean Louis Vidal
who gives me a big hug. Bob is running
towards me – I am almost there. I am so
very very happy to see him. I run on
with Bob toward BJ and the finish line.
There is the station. There is
the timing mat. I cross it… I am done.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am done. All that is left is to kiss the statue, drink of the chalice and receive my crown of laurels.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXohm3JZ8MnZwMwQLZyM__0NCCUCNCHe_Zt3Z8XzjE-J-trObnmtViZThLfOyY4E9C8rmjQaBuldsHJmJftsb31teiDjmmwsKcj9_P88irNXxxy-Bajm_E3iVTMy4QCDVHP5Hc92p_A0o/s1600/BringinItIn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXohm3JZ8MnZwMwQLZyM__0NCCUCNCHe_Zt3Z8XzjE-J-trObnmtViZThLfOyY4E9C8rmjQaBuldsHJmJftsb31teiDjmmwsKcj9_P88irNXxxy-Bajm_E3iVTMy4QCDVHP5Hc92p_A0o/s320/BringinItIn.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Bridge into Sparta</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUC3Byqy8BaZY-lDqHUFQOohzlsa6zUW_I5uxQKBmWOJ_t0lRDWRMeRYJGfIvuUS09dERaCpsrwB9_xEsqBZQ_LGFIci03HUCT8kSDJ5z1z8LDhzKeBKpBIqAvcHIffGGDXsA71kkFrw/s1600/GettingCrowned.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="720" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUC3Byqy8BaZY-lDqHUFQOohzlsa6zUW_I5uxQKBmWOJ_t0lRDWRMeRYJGfIvuUS09dERaCpsrwB9_xEsqBZQ_LGFIci03HUCT8kSDJ5z1z8LDhzKeBKpBIqAvcHIffGGDXsA71kkFrw/s320/GettingCrowned.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting Crowned</td></tr>
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<h3>
Epilogue</h3>
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</div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">17 Americans started the race. 8 of us finished. I was thrilled to finish 3rd American, in 33 hours, 56 minutes. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYMlyme7Gp9so9BfR-7rUQf7m0N3jgd0AtJU4v4G9pcgahim8nnuTuAJsDhw9jZ2LuXLrLix0rMO4AXjOgkk6RSXdI8lqs6tLgoBE3pHoEZJI2QwbI7VnKQ-taWlC957P9odnK0hZ_Wk/s1600/AmyEmily.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYMlyme7Gp9so9BfR-7rUQf7m0N3jgd0AtJU4v4G9pcgahim8nnuTuAJsDhw9jZ2LuXLrLix0rMO4AXjOgkk6RSXdI8lqs6tLgoBE3pHoEZJI2QwbI7VnKQ-taWlC957P9odnK0hZ_Wk/s320/AmyEmily.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging with Emily Collins post race</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This race... it is special. I had expected that if I reached 50 and made the cut-offs, the rest would be smooth sailing. Instead, this was, perhaps, the hardest race of my life. I worked hard for a much higher percentage of time than I usually do for this distance. But the rewards... ah, the rewards. This race is living in my heart. The whisper of ancient ruins in the dark... the thrill of climbing mountains, of running where the Gods once played, of being part of a race that includes participants from all over the world. The friendships, the constant sense of discovery, the climactic and theatrical finish- there is no other race like this. I will be back.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have so many people to thank for their contributions to this effort. My husband BJ who inspires me to bigger goals than I ever think I'm capable of. My running hero, Bob Hearn, who graciously lent me his wisdom, expertise, experience and incredible knowledge of running. My running partners Katie and Larry. My coach, Shannon. My family, who support me in this crazy pursuit even as they scratch their heads in puzzlement. I could not have done it without all of you.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOF21DBR6JZHNy9vHQonnBd26d3eBObJkB68vqFIpRhKjkNFLP8ZVU1n-O3iCXEwkCMyf1bOoR6VxQ56lrtpuK8DuZtTOGqGVD_z-Sl0ZxBTQlr1uceGGD7gVIVQMo-p3cxqBhQTk4F0/s1600/PostRace3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOF21DBR6JZHNy9vHQonnBd26d3eBObJkB68vqFIpRhKjkNFLP8ZVU1n-O3iCXEwkCMyf1bOoR6VxQ56lrtpuK8DuZtTOGqGVD_z-Sl0ZxBTQlr1uceGGD7gVIVQMo-p3cxqBhQTk4F0/s320/PostRace3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post Race with my crew</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaR8A01tD8ghGw3nJPGek9w6shO_PARzAMlVjzAktZBv8YNa7FKEqO_4XisedGTuN9ULQytbY6p4Qt3BGdZ5emTtcUjj2ZqLi83W32Dgpp0-wO8g8Ptm9c_TDdhb5CiUe2WlvKWBcwfI/s1600/PostRaceLunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaR8A01tD8ghGw3nJPGek9w6shO_PARzAMlVjzAktZBv8YNa7FKEqO_4XisedGTuN9ULQytbY6p4Qt3BGdZ5emTtcUjj2ZqLi83W32Dgpp0-wO8g8Ptm9c_TDdhb5CiUe2WlvKWBcwfI/s320/PostRaceLunch.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mayor's Luncheon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqB8gleLxnyN_CJANjZLWQQ58JShsOzjejD4tQwjNdSmugr00OHi1LnkrcCaMZZ-MtBJX4JUObmLydciHtBkqeETRQs_Dby48w4XgJgIQx7yj8FzzIrO00O8WbdG0WmebzaYYSlLJpk0/s1600/BobAndBeast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqB8gleLxnyN_CJANjZLWQQ58JShsOzjejD4tQwjNdSmugr00OHi1LnkrcCaMZZ-MtBJX4JUObmLydciHtBkqeETRQs_Dby48w4XgJgIQx7yj8FzzIrO00O8WbdG0WmebzaYYSlLJpk0/s320/BobAndBeast.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob and "The Beast" - Andras Low, 21X finisher</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxN8ZoYzsbPZ9W1ahf0h-HNRGzzzVls9x6xH2LaoymjuzQ0qam9VHyIS907Xx_jWKC7LLW5chdtUDsfl-1Pw18wWp39iWunYzZxPGemFK6Os9jXxQ9x4h3npf9iRc7UtYpBMCdHNq1e8/s1600/BigBob2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxN8ZoYzsbPZ9W1ahf0h-HNRGzzzVls9x6xH2LaoymjuzQ0qam9VHyIS907Xx_jWKC7LLW5chdtUDsfl-1Pw18wWp39iWunYzZxPGemFK6Os9jXxQ9x4h3npf9iRc7UtYpBMCdHNq1e8/s320/BigBob2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Bad Bob</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8xAZgD8-iHeyOYvxblEWGf3FfMBjkXStNlaXZhzxJjVG8KZeHpYQVyu5RFFMNT3MzgQr0AVWvFYA9pyMXVxIzHa9SpSIbMhyphenhyphenziTJCf5la-GiglK8D5Ocb4ZKndYs8JOvNljyfFQFNg4/s1600/AMyBobAfter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8xAZgD8-iHeyOYvxblEWGf3FfMBjkXStNlaXZhzxJjVG8KZeHpYQVyu5RFFMNT3MzgQr0AVWvFYA9pyMXVxIzHa9SpSIbMhyphenhyphenziTJCf5la-GiglK8D5Ocb4ZKndYs8JOvNljyfFQFNg4/s320/AMyBobAfter.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my running hero - Bob Hearn</td></tr>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<br />Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-47001597991896631122019-06-25T14:26:00.002-07:002019-06-25T14:26:31.953-07:00TGNY 100<br />
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It is…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>12:30 in the
morning or so, and I am on the boardwalk at Coney Island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lights of the rides are behind me and
there is music and life everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Drunken revelers, people speaking all languages, pounding surf to my
left, a woman in a bikini drinking a cocktail and yelling excitedly into her
phone to my right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have travelled here
by foot, 84 or so miles from Times Square, where I started almost 20 hours
earlier at 5am just as dawn was breaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am in another world and I am tired, a little bit sore, and a little
bit disoriented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am…. Perfectly happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am as happy as it is possible to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sweaty and sticky and my clothing and
gear has been rubbing various parts of my body until they sting like a mother,
and I don’t want to be anyplace else in the world right now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am so very, very grateful for this moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Some races are linear – they have a beginning, a middle, and
an end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one to me is a series of
vignettes:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>images, experiences, moments,
feelings, sensations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lHLaTqPRAZ3OE_ud_P7Mv7hgTnb7Lo_Za143Ia-VOqWU4T01QmIpmMKp3tC9FHBAp_mX05e7xd6ywrsYE4seVgWAVkLq9tDter8uj3fYLYeF0eWAAvDzivf0q4aPngwOlS786PpBa3c/s1600/20190623_001355-01-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lHLaTqPRAZ3OE_ud_P7Mv7hgTnb7Lo_Za143Ia-VOqWU4T01QmIpmMKp3tC9FHBAp_mX05e7xd6ywrsYE4seVgWAVkLq9tDter8uj3fYLYeF0eWAAvDzivf0q4aPngwOlS786PpBa3c/s320/20190623_001355-01-01.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
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….<o:p></o:p></div>
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Arriving at Times Square for the race start at 4:15am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have worked and lived in this city:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not naive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet… after living in the country for 20 years
and in respectable northern Virginia for 2, perhaps I have become so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lights…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>the enormous flashing billboards straight out of Bladerunner, turning
night into day…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the woman wearing only
mesh and a thong so her full breasts are completely visible… the food trucks on
every corner, the fact that it is 4am and unlike me pretty much everyone here
has been up all night; garbage piled in alleys, the smell competing with the
smell of smoky hot pretzels, hot dogs, steam from the subway, weed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps most astoundingly, mixed in among the
natives and the tourists and the exhibitionists there is a tiny tribe of ultra
runners, all of whom, it seemed, know at least several others here – gathering together
in our little band of hydration vests and Hokas, sharing McDonald’s receipts so
we can sneak in and use the bathroom one last time before this thing starts.<o:p></o:p></div>
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…<o:p></o:p></div>
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The 45 minutes before the race start is a blur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So many, so many friends here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Different than most races where I only know
one or 2 people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The group photo is a
reunion and the start of a grand adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This part goes way, way, too fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The pre-race anxiety is more focused on making sure that I say hello to
everyone I know is going to be there rather than worrying about the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For I already know I am not racing but rather
embarking upon a grand adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
is no time goal at all and that is… glorious.<o:p></o:p></div>
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…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Meeting Kellie, with whom I committed to run, so neither of
us would get lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her last name is
Maurer… mine is Mower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have the
same German origin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell her husband
Erik that I think we are likely related.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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---<o:p></o:p></div>
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We gather together for the pre-race photo, and line up at
the start. Kellie and I start running with Larry Huffman – a recently training
partner who now is part of my Sunday Great Falls joy runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larry has run this before so I know that not
only does he run at a pace that is perfect for me, but (more importantly) he
knows where we are going. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is also… a
great guy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We commit to sticking with Larry.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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….<o:p></o:p></div>
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Slow easy taking off through the streets of NYC, the sun is
coming up, and people are starting their day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because it is Saturday, there is less hustle and bustle than there would
be on a weekday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is strange, running
on uneven concrete, and our first street crossing is an interesting revelation
of the forced breaks that will be built into the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is more to see than I can possibly take
in, and sooner than I would have imagined, we are in Central Park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then… a few miles later, we are out of
it, and the adventure really starts, because we start to go through parts of
the city I have never walked before.<o:p></o:p><br />
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…<o:p></o:p></div>
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There is a huge cathedral on our left – I think it is St.
Johns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We go up, up up… I had no idea,
how hilly this could be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We reach the
top of one hill and the sun is a glowing orange ball coming up over water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several of us stop at a monument to take
pictures of this glorious sunrise and I know that I am already in love with
this race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 122<sup>nd</sup> street we
head west and down toward the water…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>turn right, run under an overpass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This part of the city is gritty and real… fast food stores,
construction, ethnic food vendors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
turn north, get closer to the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is more park like… less like a city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a bike path and restrooms… this is more like running on the
W&OD in the morning.<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
---<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil McCarthy, the race director, has marked the course with
small yellow arrows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They can be easy to
miss if you are not careful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow in
one of the parks, near the Cloisters, we get lost for the first time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We follow what we think are arrows to a
lovely overlook – but the arrows lead nowhere after that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We find our way back down to the course but
have picked up at least an extra mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We cross the first of what will be many bridges and are in
the Bronx… soon enough at the gates of Van Cortlandt Park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I grew up in the suburbs of New York
I have never been here and it is a revelation. We run on a shaded soft dirt
trail that is less populated than the trails of Great Falls Park in Virginia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is impossible to believe we are in the
middle of one of the biggest cities in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larry is in his element on these trails and
starts picking up his step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
delighted, like a small child, just at the notion that I am on a wooded trail
in the middle of New York City.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Out of the park and the sun is beating down strong now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some runners have complained about the heat
but to me the sun is glorious because the day itself is only about 80, with a
cool breeze and almost no humidity compared to DC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can feel the sun sizzling my skin as we
emerge from the park and we enter a part of the Bronx that is probably more
what people think of when they think of running through New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are running on a bridge with another road
over us, chain link barrier to our side, an occasional small dead animal on the
ground next to litter people have tossed from their cars, an occasional beer
can, and cars driving by, fast fast to our left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not pretty and it is not nice… but it
is absolutely real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love this bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
love this day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hitting the low 20 mile mark at this point… we cross into
Pelham Bay Park for a scenic out and back with a photo opportunity at the beach…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stop and wash up at the old bathhouses and
I am delighted by this early Saturday morning at the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because although we have been running for
hours, it still only mid morning and the beachgoers are few and far between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some older Italian men give us wondering
glances as they gossip on a bench, one spraying himself with cold water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The water spray makes me thirsty and for a
moment I feel hot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We get lost again and add a little bit more mileage to our
total.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turn around… find the right path.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a blur of city miles and at some point we are at Randall’s
Island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is memorable because of the
entrance with the smooth path underneath and arches overhead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are ball fields on the island and it
feels parklike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we are out of the
park and…<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
we are climbing a ramp and cross what was formerly the
Triboro bridge (now the Robert F Kennedy)… on foot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We stop at the highest part of the bridge to take pictures
and take it all in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
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<br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We go down, down down the bridge and all of a sudden we are
in Queens, where we will spend the next 40 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kellie, by this point, is not feeling so
great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her stomach is acting up
mightily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel guilty for feeling so
wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We run essentially through LaGuardia airport – the car
rental shops to our right, planes taking off low, over our heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the high 40’s, Kellie starts talking about our going on
without her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She asks us to promise we
will let her go when we hit 100K – she has a friend who will join her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This does not feel good and we don’t want to
do it and at first we say no.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are at 51 miles now and Kellie is insisting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She feels she is slowing us down, and
assures us she can get to 100K and will have company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We reluctantly say goodbye and head on now a
duo instead of a trio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rhythm
changes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We miss Kellie’s company, but
are hoping we made the right call because she is feeling so crappy that we know
she doesn’t want to run right now as much as we are running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hard feeling pressure to run with
someone who is, at the moment, feeling better or faster than you are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been there many times and almost always
I will choose to run alone at my own pace rather than stay and be forced to a
pace that is out of my comfort zone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
hope we are truly honoring what Kellie wants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And… regardless… the decision is made.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Flushing Meadows Corona Park…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a mass of humanity just out to enjoy the
beautiful day…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>picnickers, rollerbladers,
families and couples… the smell of roasting meats, barbeques – I eye the tables
as I’d eye an aid station except this food is not for me…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stop in front of the Fountain of the Planets
to take a picture and we run like children through the spray, cooling our sun
baked skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We run past the fountain
down a straightaway, soccer games to our left and a sea of people on the right,
shadows of leaves, a cooling breeze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
see an ice cream vendor and strongly consider a fruit pop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pass, and moments later we pick up Jim
Treece who isn’t having the race he hoped for and is now focused on just
recovering from his bad spell and enjoying the journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He chose the fruit pop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am jealous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We run together on and off to 100K.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-----<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
100K is magical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
had advertised eggplant sandwiches which I have been looking forward to for 30
miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paul Kentor is there and takes
great car of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I leave the aid station
a little overly full, but the mile required for digestion is well worth it for
the well of energy I now have.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A half mile out of the aid station I see a Carvel and decide
I need dessert on top of the eggplant sandwich.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have a choco-vanilla soft serve cone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Larry has a slushie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He says “This
will either be the best or the worst thing I’ve done all day”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cone is delicious but I find myself
wishing I had chosen the lighter cooler slushie. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larry generously offers me a few sips.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It turns out that the slushie is not the best thing that
Larry has done all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While my cone is
(to Larry’s amazement) sitting just fine, his slushie is not so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am very impressed by Larry’s ability to systematically
lose bits of the slushie here and there out of his unhappy gut and not slow
down his running pace by even a hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is… sometime between 9 and 10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably closer to 9 because it has only just
gotten dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrive at the beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This makes me profoundly happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is actually our second beach arrival today
and there is a big sign, “Rockawy Beach – B94th” greeting us as we head to
toward the shore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We turn right and run
along a largely dark asphalt walkway – it is wide, with a railing separating
the walkway and the beach proper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can
hear surf far away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are benches
here and there, and some (but not many) people walking along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A ways down the walkway we hear and see
several helicopters overhead – they are flying low over the water, green tail
lights flashing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are at least 3 of
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are there, buzzing back and
forth, for most of our time on the walkway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We reach the end of that section and run down into a Queens
neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A man is walking a dog and
he comments on the copters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That ain’t
good… that usually means someone’s in the water. “<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure enough, as we travel a few more blocks
through the neighborhood we see a cluster of emergency vehicles at the end of
one street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the same time that we are
sobered by the sight of accidental death so nearby, it hits home that this is
just one more part of this experience – which is really just us, moving at a
running, jogging, and walking pace, through a day in the life of NYC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Coney Island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am as
happy as it is possible to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A band is
playing open air at a bar and I start to dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I see the lights of the Cyclone…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>a Nathan’s hot dog stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love
(love love) the feel of the boardwalk under my feet, the surf to my left, the
night life to my right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
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….<o:p></o:p></div>
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We are in Queens for about 40 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s a lot.<o:p></o:p></div>
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….<o:p></o:p></div>
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Brooklyn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lived
here once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was young, and very, very
different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a drinker and a smoker
then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not even a little bit
athletic and I was so very not who I am today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But… it was the start of my love affair with this tremendous city, and
the beginning of my growing up and learning to love the person I was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had once lived on Dean Street, and gone out
with a guy (he was a jerk) who lived on Atlantic Avenue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had (generously) offered me one drawer of
his dresser after we had gone out for a while to keep my stuff in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Did I mention he was a jerk?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bar where he went to see the girl he was
really in love with while he dated me for convenience was also further down on
Atlantic Avenue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I digress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is sometimes what you do when you run
down the streets of your past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Other ghosts… when I lived on Dean street (which was the
wrong side of Court street, back then, when there WAS a wrong side of Court
street – it looks more gentrified now…), I lived in a second story apartment
where, one summer night with soft breezes blowing, I heard a man scream, and
then heard a really (really) loud pop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I went out to see what had happened, there was a crowd around a
body and more blood than I could imagine coming from what had been this man’s
neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Ghosts.<o:p></o:p></div>
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…..<o:p></o:p></div>
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In Brooklyn we are running a block and walking a block.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is working well and keeping us
steady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon we reach the 95<sup>th</sup>
street aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Francis Kwok is
there, and Adrienne.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The smell of the
barn is oh so strong, as is the lure of the Brooklyn Bridge, towering over us –
a monument to the city’s past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is…
indescribable…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>crossing this bridge on
foot back into the city where only single digit miles remain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is almost morning and the view of the city
brings tears to my eyes.<o:p></o:p><br />
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….<o:p></o:p></div>
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Manhattan again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
sun is rising and we are back on the sidewalks and heading to Times
Square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to be at the finish and
at the same time I want this never to end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Larry gets it in his head there there is a possibility we can bring it
in under 24 hours (we cannot), and starts running miles in the 9’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To my amazement I keep up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Until Jim and I convince him that there is no
possibility of a sub 24 and we are killing ourselves for nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still… I kept up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First time I’ve ever done miles in the 9’s
after I’ve already hit 100.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Did I
mention we got lost?)<o:p></o:p></div>
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…..<o:p></o:p></div>
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I see BJ as we close in to the finish and wave madly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larry, Jim and I step ceremoniously at the
same time onto the finish line marked in chalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love that we are able to do this.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-8054280450819240532019-04-30T13:27:00.001-07:002019-04-30T15:23:52.777-07:00C & O Canal 100 - There's Music on the Trail<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Not since Candlelight 12 hour have I felt this kind of joy
in a race.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">C&O Canal 100 – April 27, 1019.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My goal for this race was 1) the female win,
and 2) a sub 20 hour 100 mile finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
former is all about who shows up…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the
latter – well, that is all about the training.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My previous best trail 100 time was a 21:42 at Tunnel Hill (where I also
went in with a sub 20 goal), and my best track 100 mile split was 21:08 at D3
in 2017.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, in reality, anything lower
than 21:08 would be a PR.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, there’s
something lyrical about “sub 20”…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was first introduced to C&O 2 years ago, pacing my
friend Aubrey Blanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had met Aubrey
at about 9pm and paced her overnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The trail was dark, beautiful and haunting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had met Peter Wai, running his first
hundred, with whom I became Facebook friends, and I went back last year to pace
Peter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My second time at C&O made me
want to run it even more, so this year I came back to race.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Speed has never been my forte.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got into ultra running because it is the
first time I’ve ever had any relative “success” as a moderately slow
runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never qualified for Boston,
and the only time I’ve ever won a 5K my friend snorted and said “how big was
the 5 K”?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a reasonable question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But… <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>having qualified for
Spartathlon which has aggressive cut-offs, I’ve started working more on
speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably the best thing for my speed
lately is my 1-3 runs per week with my fast friend Katie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was due to the recent speed work and some monster weekly
mileage that I thought I might have a shot at the win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And… possibly… a sub-20.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Aubrey had booked a cabin for her family, Pete’s family, and
BJ and I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all arrived shortly after 5
on Friday, checked in, and headed to the pre-race dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner was great and I was pleased that I
didn’t overdo it (which has been known to happen).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all spent a bit of time after dinner
getting our gear ready, and were all in bed by 9. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCojl9ZjEoJZIs6_IqCk8-TsmM5pFRGUm-4uo4-_8_owdGrPIznAGIpnOYNFD4UwpZmZFA50zTTJeernhBhYux3gsA7i6LVOq13D02mEPX2Ct37QviOUig9m1lZTS50T-neNninTgpb2w/s1600/20190427_070230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCojl9ZjEoJZIs6_IqCk8-TsmM5pFRGUm-4uo4-_8_owdGrPIznAGIpnOYNFD4UwpZmZFA50zTTJeernhBhYux3gsA7i6LVOq13D02mEPX2Ct37QviOUig9m1lZTS50T-neNninTgpb2w/s200/20190427_070230.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The 3 Musketeers - Pete, Aubrey and I</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It is a testament to both my recent mileage and some of the
huge mile races I’ve been running (recently a few 3 days and a 6 over New
Years) that I was going into this 100 with just mild pleasant anticipation of a
nice, not too long day – rather than the big post race jitters I’ve previously
gotten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My thought was… “it’s just 100”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was predicted to be windy but nice
otherwise – not too warm, not too cold.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sleep was light and restless – probably because I had to pee
for about half the night, but didn’t want to climb down from my bunk and walk
outside to do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We saw the benefits of
staying on site on race morning when we didn’t have to get up until almost 6
for a 7am race. Breakfast was provided by Aubrey - real NJ bagels. Yum!!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As I geared up, I decided last minute to put my headphones
in my pack rather than in my ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Though I usually run with music, I didn’t want my battery to run out due
to data streaming, and I wanted to talk to other runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a little concerned about the 25mph
predicted winds, but after the first little grassy loop before we got on the
trail, I knew I wouldn’t need my windbreaker and I tossed it to BJ as I ran
through Camp Manidoken and down through the cabins toward the single track.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABiRKzqgklVva2LCLgMoPtgMCF0KC3ghyphenhyphen0pEyxDM234AnRZeNshGwUIEreLXd1vUSuU-VA05KWtE4Icyk_O6lzDI5Y1rkRa5Ch-VT_81K42yGZ8VJgqSeRRAjglPrc2E66VK-ahplqL0/s1600/received_298946154331261.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABiRKzqgklVva2LCLgMoPtgMCF0KC3ghyphenhyphen0pEyxDM234AnRZeNshGwUIEreLXd1vUSuU-VA05KWtE4Icyk_O6lzDI5Y1rkRa5Ch-VT_81K42yGZ8VJgqSeRRAjglPrc2E66VK-ahplqL0/s400/received_298946154331261.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me, BJ and Laurie Matecki</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxYCghY_BlInuQY1QuYKeuIRF4Vub6UyPMoC86k5Lve85EhFcCWOEwXLrot8_2RuY1Jhf8Yryd5aMrJGXiW2hJ84tLk-UH35HSvjXtsTXk1wRZZtQYW1sCvp3H3ULgj-vAUoD_AJbkt0/s1600/imagejpeg_0%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxYCghY_BlInuQY1QuYKeuIRF4Vub6UyPMoC86k5Lve85EhFcCWOEwXLrot8_2RuY1Jhf8Yryd5aMrJGXiW2hJ84tLk-UH35HSvjXtsTXk1wRZZtQYW1sCvp3H3ULgj-vAUoD_AJbkt0/s320/imagejpeg_0%25288%2529.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Pre race</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTIwKQpRrnY4p33S3inYOkFxqEtppxPFxoe86auMzRkm8KR86iQneyJ6Trvr0fCST4zi11Zts6eeSrNFFQCezCOa_Ucp9ObbLsVCtF5QMSGrvCx3O7cRqvlAkG07m98NAgVzugVxaHfw/s1600/received_2158737237544300.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTIwKQpRrnY4p33S3inYOkFxqEtppxPFxoe86auMzRkm8KR86iQneyJ6Trvr0fCST4zi11Zts6eeSrNFFQCezCOa_Ucp9ObbLsVCtF5QMSGrvCx3O7cRqvlAkG07m98NAgVzugVxaHfw/s320/received_2158737237544300.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me and Dave Blanchard</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of the daunting features of this race is the single
track leading from Camp Manidoken down to the C&O.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a short stretch – probably no more than
.3 of a mile, but it is utterly un-runnable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Steep steps lead down through the woods, and there is a little path where
you have to step over branches and cross a stream before heading along another little
trail patch, over the road, up and down a gully and then on to the
towpath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The towpath itself, though, is
eminently runnable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My first miles are smooth, easy, and in the tens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> This makes me happy as up until recently, my slow easy has been 11 and change. </span>The weather is in the 50’s, the breeze is
crisp and cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can tell pretty
early that this is going to be a good run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And then… the trail begins to sing to me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Early morning, there is just the sound of footfalls and the
rushing breeze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some runner chatter if I
pass them or they pass me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few
miles down, there is the lazy flow of the canal, water sparkling like diamonds
through the trees, almost finished with the early leafing out of spring in
Maryland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few miles more, and then a crescendo…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d reached the rapids, and the
sound is powerful…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>rushing, roaring,
mid spring, electric.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The trail dips under the bridge to Harper’s ferry, where a
train is clattering overhead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I run
under the bridge as the train rushed by above me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is deafening and rumbling and I feel intensely
alive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pass by a section of algae
covered water where loads of turtles are lounging and mating on logs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTIMVvLCtfMrQmLxJWb2MSMcaL78BOfeBFqdBgSIk_BddrWELf3TZkQ_yjoLly8MCN31LfPd9McEIL9I4AsmjwKXV6FK-xor68bMF-IaiPVoNvktWDAmZwmoy3Hg0fZStVodMCmFqgdrI/s1600/received_416354089157643.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTIMVvLCtfMrQmLxJWb2MSMcaL78BOfeBFqdBgSIk_BddrWELf3TZkQ_yjoLly8MCN31LfPd9McEIL9I4AsmjwKXV6FK-xor68bMF-IaiPVoNvktWDAmZwmoy3Hg0fZStVodMCmFqgdrI/s320/received_416354089157643.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Action shot - courtesy of Laurie Matecki</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The song changed genres to a soothing acoustic…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>background music to the musings of my
soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is, so far, nothing that isn’t
perfect about this run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Footfalls,
smooth and steady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pace faster than my
wildest imagining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sun on my face,
breeze whipping around me, this is where I am home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first stop back up to Camp Manidoken at
40 miles is a super quick pitstop – that mile including the brutal up, stop,
and back down is only 16 minutes and change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am thrilled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I hit 50 at 8 hours 41 minutes… a PR by almost a half
hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am astounded and humbly
grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point I’m on track for
a 20 hour race if I can keep the second half at 13 minute miles… which seems
more than doable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For another mile or
two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the sound of my unhappy
stomach starts to add some troubling minor tones to the music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is OK when I trot, but any time I slow
down to a walk or hit an aid station, I am woozy and nauseous. I am thirsty but
anything I take in makes me want to retch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They offer me warm flat ginger ale and I have to spit it out and move
on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel badly – they all want to
help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One aid station volunteer says with concern “what
is your food plan for the next 25 miles?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Nothing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“My plan is to eat nothing”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He does not like that plan so much.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I feel better moving again, and make it to the next aid
station where once again I stop, feel sick, and this time have to sit
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I text BJ “nauseous”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He replies “what need?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Selzer.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My love goes out and gets me my bubbly water – the only thing that
sounds remotely appealing in my woozy overheatedness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the 70 mile Camp Manidoken stop, the climb is near unbearable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to stop multiple times – I feel faint
and nauseous and exhausted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I trudge up
to the hill shouting out my number, saying “Liquid… I need liquid”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This stop is not speedy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need gear…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I change my shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sick and
they apply a cool cloth to my inner elbows, wrists and forehead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to get back out there if I’m going to
do this thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I head down the hill,
feeling discouraged.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But… there are only 30 miles to go, and I’ve found a run
walk pattern that keeps me moving and keeps me from retching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shoe change eases the pressure of my only
hot spot, and the seltzer is helping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> At mile 80 BJ makes the treacherous trek down the dark single track to bring me more seltzer. He walks with me for a few minutes and I am calmed by his presence. </span>At
my new slower pace, with my stomach churning on the decline, the trail once again
starts to sing – this time a Nocturne. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have travelled this trail in the dark twice now – once with
Aubrey and once with Peter and Carter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have come to love the haunting solitude, the occasional CSX train whistle, the
rushing of the rapids, and sometimes just my lonely footfalls in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On those trips I saw the sunrise and it was
magical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will not see that sunrise
today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even with the sub-20 out of
reach, I know I will finish in the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The last 10 miles come blissfully easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I probably could have pushed my pace beyond
the safe run walk ratio with which I had become comfortable, but I don’t want to risk
getting sick again and, at this point, have adjusted my goal to a sub 21.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would, no matter what, be a PR.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR0XovIr9rC0Oi4t3rf4C144JEhINsEYY_1YcIhtl2sA2jxnguGzVuIBYeljPxuDmaRat3TDJlpxew6sW7fmh-GfhpSA0X77Nq7HtKaDMWYmW1YwM2PXwzy-NMFrZ3KUlZnObc6lGG2rI/s1600/20190428_163042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR0XovIr9rC0Oi4t3rf4C144JEhINsEYY_1YcIhtl2sA2jxnguGzVuIBYeljPxuDmaRat3TDJlpxew6sW7fmh-GfhpSA0X77Nq7HtKaDMWYmW1YwM2PXwzy-NMFrZ3KUlZnObc6lGG2rI/s200/20190428_163042.jpg" width="150" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This time, the 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> loop, I know all the
landmarks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The blinking light of the
cone to head back up to Manidoken no longer seems to take forever – I know
exactly where it’s going to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
risk a single running step on the single track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am almost home and I don’t want to mess with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This last climb up the stairs is stronger by
far than my last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t run up the
hill, but still, I am strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My love is
waiting for me at the top of the hill, where I walk in my PR at 20 hours 31 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Female leader, and trail PR by 71
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg003rmaoW3-F7Dg79l6Rt-ayk5P0lZ-I4xGivbP4_QXYKgriy1_HfMmcjePkdwiRR46hVM-P2OwGH7SsQ5nMCrY2WprSLU2_v9bSdpzZV6n8wtl88TSOY59KHXyFhObu6RFSSOJ0ZXH-E/s1600/20190428_162953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg003rmaoW3-F7Dg79l6Rt-ayk5P0lZ-I4xGivbP4_QXYKgriy1_HfMmcjePkdwiRR46hVM-P2OwGH7SsQ5nMCrY2WprSLU2_v9bSdpzZV6n8wtl88TSOY59KHXyFhObu6RFSSOJ0ZXH-E/s200/20190428_162953.jpg" width="150" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There are some races that just inspire joy, and this is one. It is one I knew, last year, that I wanted to race - and I made the right choice. The scenery is stunning; the trail is pleasant and flat. The race directors are organized, nice and accommodating, and I can't say enough good things about the volunteers. This is truly a special race, and you can bet I'll be coming back.</span></o:p></span></div>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-90581750248714262592019-01-10T13:26:00.000-08:002019-01-10T15:46:28.955-08:006 Days in Glendale<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Introduction</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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I blame Doyle.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At my last 72 hour event at 3 Days at the Fair in May, Doyle was there
doing the 6 day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On more than one
occasion, as we were in chatting distance with each other, he’d growl at me
“why the hell are you doing a 72?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
doesn’t count for anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ya gotta do
the 6 day.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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What he means is that, for whatever reason, a 72 hour event is not
recognized by any record keeping body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Recognized timed events include the 24 hour, the 48 hour, and then it
jumps to 6 day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which means that no
matter how hard I worked to get that 230 at my last 72, it’s not going to show
up anywhere that I can use to compare that performance against anyone
else’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had 2 choices…. Drop down to
48, or up to 6 day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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48 was already a known quantity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’d done that at ARFTA already, and would be doing it again plus 1 hour
over Labor Day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>144 hours, on the other
hand…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Experience had shown that, so far, the longer the race, the more
competitive I’m able to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
essentially because I’m slow… but I can go for a long, long, time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And at a certain point, my slow becomes
fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Comparatively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>144 hours it was going to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just weeks after a great 72 at 3DATF, I pushed the button on my first 6
day race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, due to the opening of Joe
Fejes’ 6 Day Dome redux about a week afterwards, pushed the button on a second
6 day as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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6 days.<o:p></o:p></div>
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W<o:p></o:p></div>
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T<o:p></o:p></div>
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F.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I mean… who would even CONCEIVE of a race like that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Really, it was fucked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Really fucked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It is hard to come up with enough adjectives about what a truly
ridiculous idea this was.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yet…<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was signed up to do it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Twice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For the next couple of months I set about studiously ignoring what I
was in for, except for ramping up my training to 110-130 mile weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">One month prior</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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One month prior, this thing was starting to be uncomfortably real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For my last training push, I signed up for a
100 mile race one weekend, followed by a 24 hour the week after, figuring it
would give me good experience running on really tired legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It did… the 24 hour was marked by some
intense knee pain (later discovered to be bursitis), but a win and a Virginia
state record to boot…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and was far enough
prior to the race to allow full recovery and to have provided some good
training.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Things abruptly changed about 4 weeks prior to the race when BJ learned
he might need emergency surgery to deal with leg pain he’d been experiencing
since Vol State.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of a sudden, the
future focus suddenly shifted and blurred…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>no way was I going to head to Arizona for a week if BJ was having (or
just recovering from) major surgery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
we weren’t going to know until an exploratory procedure on 12/17.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of a sudden, my world was swimming with
several uncertainties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And despite large
focus and concern about BJ’s medical situation, I can’t deny that there was a
huge amount of relief at the idea of possibly not having to run this race which
was really starting to become more terrifying than anything I’d ever embarked
upon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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12/17…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>procedure day, and to our
enormous relief, the procedure was successful and meant that BJ wouldn’t need
surgery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was also cleared to travel
to Arizona with me which meant there was zero reason I couldn’t proceed with
the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hooray!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Damn!!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Really the only way to deal with the situation was to go back to what
I’d been doing for the previous months, which was to studiously ignore my
upcoming ordeal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">One week prior<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Studiously ignoring…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">3 days prior</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Figured some packing was in order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Packed for last year’s weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Loads of singlets and shorts for hot days, plus warm clothes for cool
nights in the 30’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some rain gear, hand
warmers, RunGoo, accessories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>4 pairs of
shoes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Travel & Arrival</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Headed out on the day after Christmas for 12/28 race start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Travel uneventful… BJ picked me up at the
airport, and once I arrived, I saw that the weather forecast was distinctly
different than what I’d packed for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead of daytime highs in the 70’s, they were in the low 50’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shopping would be in order, as I had zero
clothing packed for mid-temp daytimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Checked into a snazzy Hampton Inn in Glendale and settled in for what
was to be my last long uninterrupted sleep for, well, a very long time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Due to the time change, we actually woke up pretty early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enjoyed the hotel waffle maker, and headed
out to Walmart where I spent a completely enjoyable hour and a half dawdling in
the workout section to buy jazzy new weather appropriate clothing, including
the skull top I ended up wearing post race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I started to go into the “Walmart Daze” where there were too many
choices… BJ had to prod me to get me out of there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Walmart trip was followed by RV pickup – about which, we were a little
bit terrified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 3DATF I had used a
company that picked up and delivered, but hadn’t been able to find one here so
one of the big challenges of the day was getting the monster vehicle back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I agreed to drive it with BJ following
closely (and nervously) behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The biggest
issue, it turned out, was trying to change lanes using just side mirrors, as
the rear view mirror was completely useless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have to admit I was pretty freakin’ proud of myself for learning that
new skill.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0sRiFIOW6P7hc4J9wx-doHg83c7H2sRCwNL9ZZewVdrDwROjgjlJ5vB5cvoIg8RiohA6K0rIGt9CsbsFUSknH_mn7G-Qx1xKVLXGcuH8W_F4AQyx7qXSlO3-xZXLjy8nl5lzCHiRPmg/s1600/20181227_124344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0sRiFIOW6P7hc4J9wx-doHg83c7H2sRCwNL9ZZewVdrDwROjgjlJ5vB5cvoIg8RiohA6K0rIGt9CsbsFUSknH_mn7G-Qx1xKVLXGcuH8W_F4AQyx7qXSlO3-xZXLjy8nl5lzCHiRPmg/s320/20181227_124344.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home away from Home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Got back to the hotel and met up with Crew Chief Sue Scholl…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she was going to be directing the show for
the next 6 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Headed out to eat… it
was mid-day and the dread was growing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was getting quieter and quieter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Focused
on trying not to make disastrous food choices.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Post lunch we brought our home away from home to the ATY grounds, to
get headquarters all set up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unpacked
and organized clothing by type; unpacked food, and pulled out the clothes I was
planning to wear at race start to bring back to hotel.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Dread continued to mount.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Back to the hotel, and out to dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The race was looming like the headlight of an oncoming train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This didn’t feel good at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did manage to not make bad food choices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yay me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is new.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Somehow, sleep came.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And it was race morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Still… studiously ignoring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Focused rather on the quality and even brown edges of my Hampton Inn
waffle… on not overeating pre-race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Race
outfit on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drove to Camelback.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Go time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Day 1</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Mike Melton gave his usual pre-race, focusing on never (ever, ever)
walking backward on the course for ANY reason whatsoever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just stood there feeling sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it was time to start moving.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Finally.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dear god.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was going to be doing this for 6 days.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What was I thinking?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Mentally, I felt like day 1 would, in some ways, be the biggest
hurdle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our mileage goal plan called for
90 miles on day 1 followed by up to 4 hours of down time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The miles, thank goodness, were pretty smooth
and in the mid-11 range except for the one mile I ran that day with Jake
Brown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was a 10:41 and was definitely
too fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though nice talking to Jake,
had to let him go.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t have many other memories of day 1 besides just generally
feeling good that things were feeling smooth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I spent a good portion of the day in 5<sup>th</sup> place among the
women… Annabel, Van Phan, Liz Bauer, and another runner whose name I need to look
up were all out fast than me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
pretty typical early in the race and I was comfortable with that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I hit my 90 miles with almost 6 hours left in the first 24 hour period,
which left me plenty of time to rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
didn’t sleep that well – never do on day 1, but probably got a solid 2 hours, with
maybe another hour and a half off my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Decided to get back out on the course about 7:50 on what felt like the
beginning of “day 2” but in reality was the last hour of my first 24 hour
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus it was that I finished the
first 24 hours with 94 miles in the books rather than the planned 90.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nice to have a little time banked that had
also included some solid rest.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Day 2</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Pretty much a blank at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was still running fine…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>again
exceeded mileage goal of the day, by going to bed at 5 or so, sleeping for 2+
hours, and getting back out at 7:45.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBIM3KbWLug8MRp8cQ61YrVCArJ8v8KCa7OF91pGFgkR30TTVRc16SdwvO9MbQx1lQgqjfslEXCHRma38eD4b-wTMI2rTPHoWLjQgXlCNVfQTjD8WrxKdVhmEgnKg8inHmz65jCIDJ4I/s1600/FB_IMG_1546694313305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBIM3KbWLug8MRp8cQ61YrVCArJ8v8KCa7OF91pGFgkR30TTVRc16SdwvO9MbQx1lQgqjfslEXCHRma38eD4b-wTMI2rTPHoWLjQgXlCNVfQTjD8WrxKdVhmEgnKg8inHmz65jCIDJ4I/s320/FB_IMG_1546694313305.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barefoot Jake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
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<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidg4PU8A7V_fDbtoYEnR_p859jkli46kZwk36FFDLmawRODmabMBPnjeor3PU_XtrH13xX2HXB4ec-qVc6iQmbFWPS0SOe-urKOyjg4BS0XpeqR-qi6H31ydm4mK1ZjPmj2uzeFWbQaB8/s1600/FB_IMG_1546780566833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidg4PU8A7V_fDbtoYEnR_p859jkli46kZwk36FFDLmawRODmabMBPnjeor3PU_XtrH13xX2HXB4ec-qVc6iQmbFWPS0SOe-urKOyjg4BS0XpeqR-qi6H31ydm4mK1ZjPmj2uzeFWbQaB8/s320/FB_IMG_1546780566833.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laps with Melinda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOLrfLpuY9ujbwJUy04KjVS0Xl0njXXTOLzTOnoUrIOLnMvNB90Xq-4kGVXClsws-D_ftybGuZFCnkrnorTc0F_LeygZLuJdEMDepNbBMGxJfbqfkRoiuj6W6cMZ55_75n17veGntSFA/s1600/FB_IMG_1546559572080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOLrfLpuY9ujbwJUy04KjVS0Xl0njXXTOLzTOnoUrIOLnMvNB90Xq-4kGVXClsws-D_ftybGuZFCnkrnorTc0F_LeygZLuJdEMDepNbBMGxJfbqfkRoiuj6W6cMZ55_75n17veGntSFA/s320/FB_IMG_1546559572080.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Scott</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Day 3</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The memorable portion of day 3 was time spent with Brian Khepri.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a huge 24 hour PR for him on Day 1, he’d
had a bonky day 2 –only did 12 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
almost was going to skip day 3 but decided to come back out and just walk in a
few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d met him at last year’s 72 hour –
every time I passed him he said “there’s the buzz saw… buzz buzz buzz”, and I
was happy to see him again this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started trotting along beside me and discovered a whole new world in the
concept of “run/walk”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My pace worked
really well for him, so he stayed with me for hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian does these races to save lions in
Africa and every time he earns a buckle he sends it to one of the tribal chiefs
who is involved in the actual saving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
pretty awesome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian and I became great buds that day, sharing stories and miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ending mileage on day 3 had me hitting my mileage goal for the day and
still banking 1 mile.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa7n_Rt3PsEP99BC16jp41YhVRUnGKlmt-b30kRqV88mrZdLSPxCb1IOA_edT4Dz7913z-XcMT1JyDhlzEsFBID9HVuUGbSa2lj8I9eQi0UCs2gpeg79axP5gw49dnUydhpvJrHTAzpU/s1600/received_527775854397151.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1330" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa7n_Rt3PsEP99BC16jp41YhVRUnGKlmt-b30kRqV88mrZdLSPxCb1IOA_edT4Dz7913z-XcMT1JyDhlzEsFBID9HVuUGbSa2lj8I9eQi0UCs2gpeg79axP5gw49dnUydhpvJrHTAzpU/s320/received_527775854397151.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running with Brian</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Day 4</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Day 4 was a thing unto itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First,
it was the entry into the whole new world of 6 day – the step up from 72 to
144.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mentally that was huge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second, it was supposed to rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Initially it was forecasted to be between 2
and 6pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead it started at 10am, and
instead of stopping at 4 as predicted, went on until 8pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem with the rain was 2-fold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, on every morning of a 6 day, there is
a huge mental lift of seeing the sun after 15 hours of darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the rain and gloom, we never really had
that lift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Secondly, much of the course
was dirt – the rain turned it into a bit of a muddy mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The good part about this was that it reduced
the dust, and the dust had been accumulating in everyone’s lungs resulting in
an awful deep hacking cough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,
the mud was slippery and also got caked on shoes and clothing, and all in all
was just a dismal mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, it never
really got warm that day – the high was probably in the mid-40’s, so we were
all struggling not just to stay as dry as possible, but to stay warm as
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Definitely a mental drain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A couple of cool things happened on this day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I think it was this day).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brian’s wife was going to the store and asked
for orders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked for choc and yogurt
covered pretzels, but she also brought me back, at Brian’s request, a surprise box
of Twinkies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I adore Twinkies.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Needing a pick-me-up, I also told BJ to go to CVS and get me some
wash-out pink hair dye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although not
enthused, he bowed to my whim and on the next lap he was standing there with a
spray on can of pink hair dye, which I took 4 minutes to apply in the
bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>due to the rain, I ended up keeping my head
covered for most of the day, but it was still fun to run around a couple of
laps with my new pink hair before I had to cover it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m pretty convinced it made me faster.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wR-YotYHmWB8OIVK_TPbfnjNu8mNleF3f1t7T0VUWdKGuFAJxdJHIxKm-qxNV8OEFon2fVOYUfBhxxVkpZjfHJB_1zO9Cy7HmDWUhUv7guDJTS6yXYJBvFBexZZhL8EESQtzAInAN28/s1600/20190106_121329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1271" data-original-width="845" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wR-YotYHmWB8OIVK_TPbfnjNu8mNleF3f1t7T0VUWdKGuFAJxdJHIxKm-qxNV8OEFon2fVOYUfBhxxVkpZjfHJB_1zO9Cy7HmDWUhUv7guDJTS6yXYJBvFBexZZhL8EESQtzAInAN28/s320/20190106_121329.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newly dyed hair</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And… one of the best things BJ did for me that day… was to gather up
all my wet dirty things and go find a laundromat that was open on New Year’s
Eve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t even begin to describe the
mental boost of knowing that I’d soon have a bunch of clean dry clothes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All this time, Sue Scholl was steady as a rock, continuing to feed me
encouragement, pace tips, and information to get me to my daily target.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t say enough good things about how she
kept me on target for the race.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the moments that very much defined the “feral” state you start
to go into as you are relying on your body to tell you what you need was the pizza
lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had passed by the food tent and,
ravenous, had grabbed 2 pieces of fresh pizza they had brought in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few hundred yards past the aid station, to
my great dismay I dropped the pizza face down into the mud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without hestitation I picked it up and kept
eating it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No freakin’ way was I waiting
another lap for my pizza.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
little gritty, but not too bad.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Late on day 4, mentally things started to improve a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, the rain finally stopped in the early
evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Secondly, as it was New Years
Eve, we started seeing fireworks in the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was nice distracting eye candy and took
my mind off the task at hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally, at
ATY, there is a celebration at midnight on New Years Eve – everyone gathers and has champagne by
the timing tent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This celebration is
followed by a “nearly naked beer mile” in which a few intrepid runners strip
down to skivvies and run as fast as they can for one lap, drinking, I believe,
a full beer at 4 different points around the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a non-drinker, I don’t participate, but
both years have very much enjoyed watching these festivities. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to say, this year there wasn’t as much
vomiting as last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The outfits were
good and it was funny to see these nearly naked folks flying by as we plodded
on.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The final memorable thing about night time of day 4 was the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the rain stopped, the wind picked up
and at times blew something like 15-20 mph.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was brutal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is possible I’m
mixing this up with night 5, but either way, towards the end, there was one
windy-assed night and it sucked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Day 5</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Day 5 was marked by complete exhaustion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remarkably, my body was feeling good in terms
of being able to run and run evenly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d
heard about the “training effect” of a long race in that as the race goes on,
in the later days your body actually gets “trained” from the early days of the
race, and can feel somewhat better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
part was remarkable.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If only I weren’t so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Freakin’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Exhausted.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a little bit more
sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please dear god.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just want to lie down and be unconscious for,
oh, a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe 2 days.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Generally each day I would take a 20 minute “power nap” sometime late
afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These were much easier to get
up from than “long sleeps” in that feet didn’t turn into hamburger in the 20
minutes, and generally had the effect of shaving off almost a minute per mile
on a deteriorating pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fighting
exhaustion like I was moving through deep water, I went in earlier than usual
for my power nap. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I entered the RV, sat
down, and just started sobbing and couldn’t stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally I pulled myself together and took my
20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Woke up and told BJ I needed
another 10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got up and…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh dear god.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It didn’t work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
No energy boost.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
No decreased pace.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nothing but grogginess and continued exhaustion.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I almost cried. Again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Next lap I grabbed Sue and told her we were revising goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>GONE was any hint of 460 (which was never
really my goal anyway).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>GONE was the age
group record goal of 450.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>maybe keep course record goal of 439 in
view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But at this point….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just figure out a way to get me some sleep
and then get past 400.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sue nodded and said she could definitely do that – and probably get me
well beyond 400.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKWt-acYlQC9kMPKqzbXxW3anKtf8_6K6NfCLs9njE-fykYiCITTB7gUtNkyCO9UJK4JmlYSH3czAgQlxZEtLhSzcFO2CfbcvEeI9VyCHnPPnv7ypTUcKAh2zGxxSnvPczHrRmxVNEQw/s1600/received_950431481822550.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKWt-acYlQC9kMPKqzbXxW3anKtf8_6K6NfCLs9njE-fykYiCITTB7gUtNkyCO9UJK4JmlYSH3czAgQlxZEtLhSzcFO2CfbcvEeI9VyCHnPPnv7ypTUcKAh2zGxxSnvPczHrRmxVNEQw/s320/received_950431481822550.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me & Sue</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I saw BJ and told him we were revising goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said “you mean strategy, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Same goal, different strategy”?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I almost screamed back at him – NO – GOAL!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’M REVISING GOAL!!!”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That was a bad lap.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Somehow after the first couple of groggy laps, I still managed to feel
better and we got me in for a lengthy nap when I had about 14 miles left to go
to hit goal for the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The good news
is, I was able to get back out and get those miles in, so by taking the nap
earlier, I got rested enough to get back out there for real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This had evolved into a new strategy:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead of getting in total goal miles for the day and follow with one “big”
sleep, have more frequent sleeps with less miles in between.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was now….<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Day 6</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What an enormous relief to wake up to the dawn of day 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the miles that were left…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>this was it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>24 hours to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really, just 1 24
hour race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could do that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And… it was sunny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And pleasant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(and the last day).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was day 6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glory be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How did that happen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had run
368 laps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time for the last push.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And whatever happened…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>there was only one more day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Day 6 was pretty much just a joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I knew I could get through one more day of this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere late in the day, feeling a little
bit of ability to relax on pace for a lap, I recorded my FB video,
communicating for pretty much the first time with the outside world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Night 6 was the coldest night so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point in my total
overall body depletion, I figured what I needed most was to stay warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So instead of just layers followed by a
windbreaker, I actually donned my winter parka.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Crew had to regularly warm up hand warmers and have them at the ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, even with all that plus my warm hat, I
still needed BJ to grab the fleece blanket from the bed to wrap around me as an
extra layer as the night wore on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
so cold.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCYt-icdMvpfX0ZrlNJWT2H6703DywlvhKT6_nUbe_LXUhppCGVe_VMn3AfE9dx31hrwTXNIYxliYF82U65eixi2pxLWxeL4FZLA6JtMuWXcpfLHRZMy8NhrDM2a7UysytDnRNymkL6k/s1600/20190103_071518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCYt-icdMvpfX0ZrlNJWT2H6703DywlvhKT6_nUbe_LXUhppCGVe_VMn3AfE9dx31hrwTXNIYxliYF82U65eixi2pxLWxeL4FZLA6JtMuWXcpfLHRZMy8NhrDM2a7UysytDnRNymkL6k/s320/20190103_071518.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So. Freakin'. Cold.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Despite the cold… that last night was special.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I spent a few memorable laps with Dave Johnston from Alaska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave is a superstar who has previously racked
up 550 miles on this course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t
going as hard this time, so my laps with him were fun and relaxed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We talked about the things we missed, and
what we wanted to do when we were done.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Being on this course was somewhat like being a hamster on a wheel – you
are going around and around and just not going anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a CVS that was all lit up a couple
hundred yards away across the highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
said I just wanted to get off this freakin’ course and go that CVS.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t care what I bought… I just wanted to
be somewhere… else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anywhere else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were all of these other paths at
Camelback that were blocked off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wanted to go on one of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dave wanted a salad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The food at
the aid stations was great but it was pretty much all carbs, fats and
proteins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not so many veggies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah… a salad sounded kick ass.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A hot tub.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A warm fluffy bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which, when
you woke up in it, you didn’t have to put your hamburger feet back on the floor
– you could just roll over and go back to sleep. <o:p></o:p></div>
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A shower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Clean clothes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I said I was going to dye my hair again, and buzz it all short.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I haven’t yet… but the buzz will come this
weekend).<o:p></o:p></div>
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TV.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All luxuries.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Somewhere in the middle of the night, I broke the women’s course record
with 439 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This had been “B” goal
and was a big milestone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt
comfortable at that point going down for a “long” (2 hour) rest, with only 12
miles left to go for A goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which… was
in sight.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The last couple of hours… the sun was rising.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The course was beautiful on that last
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still cold – we were waiting for
the rising sun to provide some heat – but the beauty was stunning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the relief that this was almost done…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>almost impossible to describe.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The lap before I was going to hit goal, I ran into Marie Boyd and
Annabel Hepworth – both from Australia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Annabel had the 2018 top female time as well as one of the more
impressive times ever for a a woman at a 6 day with 460 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
hadn’t been her best race – she was struggling with shin pain – but still put
in a solid, solid race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The three of us
stopped and spent a couple of minutes taking selfies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a relief to have the gift of a few
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Scott Thompson rolled by and
we pulled him into the pics as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
and I had raced it to the end in last year’s race.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQp0pPShh4rUZedS2706cSydS340eBBkxR8qXMypuBoRyKvoCPbxfLsh2BoaJGgGDHwKtWnr-k4EZWAliVTorSIASTzzRze2btiN8T205HqSCXx6ClWFYpjhxZyBCgJJip3Wq4RwALTo/s1600/20190103_071502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQp0pPShh4rUZedS2706cSydS340eBBkxR8qXMypuBoRyKvoCPbxfLsh2BoaJGgGDHwKtWnr-k4EZWAliVTorSIASTzzRze2btiN8T205HqSCXx6ClWFYpjhxZyBCgJJip3Wq4RwALTo/s320/20190103_071502.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise Day 6</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEBMkkuqYXHRB8GXl7wLIUiREFW9SJEH87IUJgyQvYCMe0AwbmvwVgz_tGHx7xhVjuuP-HEl8T9-JqGuDtJNsdLpTozDHajMHk_faudmlFDTwuJkVRN7qfjU0mpp-uzmP-1BRz0hGe8Y/s1600/20190103_072428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEBMkkuqYXHRB8GXl7wLIUiREFW9SJEH87IUJgyQvYCMe0AwbmvwVgz_tGHx7xhVjuuP-HEl8T9-JqGuDtJNsdLpTozDHajMHk_faudmlFDTwuJkVRN7qfjU0mpp-uzmP-1BRz0hGe8Y/s320/20190103_072428.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and 2 Aussies - Marie Boyd & Annabel Hepworth</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzOn0oNKatreoICW3byL9jadY7TXcjX1I08ekTTNs5rnFVJnqfp0oFCDhYVfyeiGyWTh9cm8uK_7imcwebohKcY8DqFwmLmf2cEcxxKdxoSMa5FLqPQlltbsOLfbqqOHxTdDP8Ebh_Kk/s1600/20190103_072516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzOn0oNKatreoICW3byL9jadY7TXcjX1I08ekTTNs5rnFVJnqfp0oFCDhYVfyeiGyWTh9cm8uK_7imcwebohKcY8DqFwmLmf2cEcxxKdxoSMa5FLqPQlltbsOLfbqqOHxTdDP8Ebh_Kk/s320/20190103_072516.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Scott Thompson</td></tr>
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I met up with Dave Johnston at the beginning of Goal A lap which would
get me to 451 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and I had agreed
to run in together since we were on the same lap and we thought it would be fun
to tie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had enough time on the clock
to get in 2 more laps after that, so we ran the last 40 minutes together,
crossing the finish line with about 3 minutes left on the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although we stepped over the mat together, he
actually had a few thousandths of a second on me, so is officially the second
place finisher while I came in third.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of the racers had already finished, and they and their crew were
all at the finish line cheering us on when we finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sobbed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And then stayed to cheer in the rest of the runners coming in during
that last 3 minutes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNCitrQ_D6pJSzZiGB5W8egfFlgk9Rr05spP7XqBDFdgN1yss9X-rUberLtoQihyCuMHHvyZM2OMeT_QHzrYo-nRsLJtwoP9adHrsaG_iCvw4Sgck_9sNgaIx07p5tSaYnI65npyqYqM/s1600/FB_IMG_1546639788207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNCitrQ_D6pJSzZiGB5W8egfFlgk9Rr05spP7XqBDFdgN1yss9X-rUberLtoQihyCuMHHvyZM2OMeT_QHzrYo-nRsLJtwoP9adHrsaG_iCvw4Sgck_9sNgaIx07p5tSaYnI65npyqYqM/s320/FB_IMG_1546639788207.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming in to finish with Dave</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjwm15KJCaYIS8fr1Ol8GEdnrHmxwtGTG-vIy_G1HjePf1Ysr2swDROOYr08HtisBvWLh5mDUUYvPu_4ITT7pbJi44ZTrhBIZtEhHcU7qjgkJMtiwOH-jEoFWP8VhG4HAbLC0H0yqqsoo/s1600/FB_IMG_1546559716591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjwm15KJCaYIS8fr1Ol8GEdnrHmxwtGTG-vIy_G1HjePf1Ysr2swDROOYr08HtisBvWLh5mDUUYvPu_4ITT7pbJi44ZTrhBIZtEhHcU7qjgkJMtiwOH-jEoFWP8VhG4HAbLC0H0yqqsoo/s320/FB_IMG_1546559716591.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy, Jubilee Paige and Melinda</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhed4xqHeWs6TqYG6pKYxr-_w7NFqnpJOLNXWuLGO0eVnFi5Um5Y8xzEhr9jVpjKXC4X8LBjhcJMMnrAC-BAutdMpIwvab1J2hps_UESklPhG8T6ZsmHUGel7v4HdZ2-BguMbCcYVlj5Y8/s1600/FB_IMG_1546639837921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhed4xqHeWs6TqYG6pKYxr-_w7NFqnpJOLNXWuLGO0eVnFi5Um5Y8xzEhr9jVpjKXC4X8LBjhcJMMnrAC-BAutdMpIwvab1J2hps_UESklPhG8T6ZsmHUGel7v4HdZ2-BguMbCcYVlj5Y8/s1600/FB_IMG_1546639837921.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my guy... race end</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYxsO3HCKd_6RIABTIbU33Rilmrqw4EuIqs5sTvxMhFzB_3M8izt59UlpVxOVHbmHFEMBaj0r5Smg7ocYMScz2BKhWJiryBugmvzwfmNTi10GNDXbOgGi62CIHgKPhMo4HZMQfJJBiR0/s1600/FB_IMG_1546639853829.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYxsO3HCKd_6RIABTIbU33Rilmrqw4EuIqs5sTvxMhFzB_3M8izt59UlpVxOVHbmHFEMBaj0r5Smg7ocYMScz2BKhWJiryBugmvzwfmNTi10GNDXbOgGi62CIHgKPhMo4HZMQfJJBiR0/s320/FB_IMG_1546639853829.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melinda Yelverton and I post race</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIq7RcXefr6aNGjCw9RHdnrb8HM2BWZ6wiA0Pls0FJa6k0TSi7VcBSyRCQxCe-y4Nk2K1WEFarAtE8o86CAQRxOfjvmyYJJjtK2subtoim_KFYjQbjFaUVC8BfVUQT_24P1m73cTZ1qbI/s1600/FB_IMG_1546559737174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIq7RcXefr6aNGjCw9RHdnrb8HM2BWZ6wiA0Pls0FJa6k0TSi7VcBSyRCQxCe-y4Nk2K1WEFarAtE8o86CAQRxOfjvmyYJJjtK2subtoim_KFYjQbjFaUVC8BfVUQT_24P1m73cTZ1qbI/s320/FB_IMG_1546559737174.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & my brother Brian post race</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYxpss9GrNxUH1oh-8JHZ336oi6v9I55gU0xXlLWu8DE8XK_Q8EmryXd-yUoba2XeoKff9pJzKZhwbx9J_gdVxvP9QIxJtunJAVdRRA6cYm4GERRN3UzCgxb_FygnKIRiXlNpFHSSggo/s1600/received_2134530280102754.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYxpss9GrNxUH1oh-8JHZ336oi6v9I55gU0xXlLWu8DE8XK_Q8EmryXd-yUoba2XeoKff9pJzKZhwbx9J_gdVxvP9QIxJtunJAVdRRA6cYm4GERRN3UzCgxb_FygnKIRiXlNpFHSSggo/s320/received_2134530280102754.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dennene Huntley and I post race</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8mCTA5OIcpV3S5GmtcXZZ7A_o6_zgns_DpwUZe07fB0z8q7Qnuny0LjyYa1MulSo0BFxoOU_2pzphzyveWbWmMwYwbcdxgP58av5jDaZm6hrIRkp8eJMlww0q-HFuryNTcsjl_Jy1Ps/s1600/FB_IMG_1546558436061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8mCTA5OIcpV3S5GmtcXZZ7A_o6_zgns_DpwUZe07fB0z8q7Qnuny0LjyYa1MulSo0BFxoOU_2pzphzyveWbWmMwYwbcdxgP58av5jDaZm6hrIRkp8eJMlww0q-HFuryNTcsjl_Jy1Ps/s320/FB_IMG_1546558436061.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting my award</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84Wg0nkgqfG8fn74Uxis_LFO4k6tixkENuq9wEt0oPW1eWTihluU4RO3P3hP1PdPvBE7_j0ITCKCeAHgu6FKvrzWhNlxoqilZkq7a6BwQtzZbnf8FSGpkRnGeKbrDNIcGIj9wYty2Da0/s1600/received_631719657245714.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84Wg0nkgqfG8fn74Uxis_LFO4k6tixkENuq9wEt0oPW1eWTihluU4RO3P3hP1PdPvBE7_j0ITCKCeAHgu6FKvrzWhNlxoqilZkq7a6BwQtzZbnf8FSGpkRnGeKbrDNIcGIj9wYty2Da0/s320/received_631719657245714.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Byamba - OA and Male winner</td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Appendix - or, Some Other Things to know about 6 Day races</span></b></div>
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<b>On... getting out of bed<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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A note on getting out of bed after a “long” (1.5 – 2 hour) sleep. Every time I went down to sleep, my feet felt pretty much fine. And when I woke up, I was rested… but my feet felt like raw hamburger. Getting out of bed and standing up was a whole new kind of hurt. It was unimaginable to think I’d be able to run on these slabs of burning pain. I would hobble to the RV table, pull on my shoes and groan. Also, the bed was warm. The outside… was not. So I’d be pulling on all my cold weather gear, preparing to go out into what, at this point, felt brutally cold, with feet that felt like they wouldn’t support me for 10 feet much less for hundreds more miles. All that keeps you moving at that point is the knowledge that the foot pain is relatively temporary.<o:p></o:p></div>
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You get out there and start to trudge. Pick up the pace to a decent walk, and then try a few tentative running steps. Maybe… 10. Good goddamn. Go back to a walk for a hundred feet. Try some quick running steps again. Maybe 20 this time. Somewhat…. Better. Repeat. Better still. You find, in amazement, that the lap ends up being something not too horrible – like an 18. Holy crow. The next lap is better, and by lap 3 after sleep, you almost have your groove back. Un. Fucking. Believable.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>What I ate</b></div>
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So... Ultras are an interesting and weird study in your body knowing exactly what it wants at any point in time. The aid station contstantly stocks staples like cookies (choc chip, oreos, ginger snaps), pringles, M&M's (peanut & plain), crystallized ginger, potato chunks with salt to dip them in, pickle chunks on toothpicks. For drinks there is soda, coffee, water, sports drinks. These are supplemented by hot meals every 6 hours along with generally some sort of "treat" in the middle. (Treats included veggie sushi, tacos from Del Taco, quesadilla, soup....). </div>
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Ginger is great for unsettled stomachs. Crystallized ginger offers the benefit of the stomach aid plus calories in the form of the sugar and ginger. At one point in time, what sounded good to me was a toothpick with a potato, pickle, and crystallized ginger all in one bite. Another goodie was the time I ripped up my chicken salad sandwich into my cup of steaming hot string beans and poured hot sauce all over it. A memorable food save was a lap where I was nauseous and slowing down and feeling just not "right" - a little confused and bonky. Came into the RV and just started inhaling Pringles. Turned out I needed the salt - the next lap was easily a minute per mile faster, mood up, and on target. And of course, we can't neglect the impact of some good sweets - picture below shows me, aka "Cake Bandit" happily chowing down some delicious birthday cake (loads of buttercream frosting) that was located at a plush RV on RV Alley.</div>
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And, of course, there was the mud coated pizza. </div>
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Which is to say... we have no standards at all, after a certain point.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDq3Fr4uT4d67JfecPI6OvVnvlvs4yNKLLhBLZfgwPA3XTzCw30-1S434so9zoc3a_RjPhjsIgSYv1dfUuhIltQ7YMlB2VOB7qdk0hEwUtEtGQ3zkW4Zye-3djS8sKZkdLguhIFtx0GyI/s1600/FB_IMG_1546694255367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDq3Fr4uT4d67JfecPI6OvVnvlvs4yNKLLhBLZfgwPA3XTzCw30-1S434so9zoc3a_RjPhjsIgSYv1dfUuhIltQ7YMlB2VOB7qdk0hEwUtEtGQ3zkW4Zye-3djS8sKZkdLguhIFtx0GyI/s320/FB_IMG_1546694255367.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy the Cake Bandit</td></tr>
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<b>Special moments</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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During a 6 day race, there are a few moments that stand out as special. I had the privilege of being on the lap with Tonya Evans where she hit her 100 miles. She had never gone beyond a marathon. It was amazing.</div>
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Being with Brian Khepri as he realized he was not only going to hit his 300 mile goal, after giving it up early on, but exceed it.</div>
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Hearing the crowd cheer for Don Winkley as he broke Ted Corbitt's "over 80" record for the 144...</div>
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Sunrise on day 6</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZkQ8vOXBHkASaiTVMcnTkCfUNuL5gPhCdlxwgBBjLcg6mM7tV-AhyINSKNJRqozvWIbiRj7p1WOl9aA2xOmjHlvHFxERaSm_gItrMd8-qhgWHwliSekGuB4Lph43YqCcRmImvEgcJ-Q/s1600/20190103_065421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZkQ8vOXBHkASaiTVMcnTkCfUNuL5gPhCdlxwgBBjLcg6mM7tV-AhyINSKNJRqozvWIbiRj7p1WOl9aA2xOmjHlvHFxERaSm_gItrMd8-qhgWHwliSekGuB4Lph43YqCcRmImvEgcJ-Q/s320/20190103_065421.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<b>On... the people</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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First of course is my husband of just over a month, my best friend and the person who believes in me more than I believe in myself... BJ (Benjamin) Timoner. </div>
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My crew chief Sue Scholl kept me on target, calm, focused, informed and motivated.</div>
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Marie Boyd - Aussie and fellow knitter. Andrew Boyd, with whom a shared a lap.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Annabel Hepworth. 6 Day Aussie rock star - funny and cheerful and a complete and utter Beastie.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Brian Khepri - who became my brother.</div>
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Dennene Huntley from Canada - killed her 72 at 235</div>
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Dave Johnston - another Beastie from Alaska. Funny, down to earth, but deadly on the course when he wants to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Charlotte Vasarhelyi - Candadian beastie runner whose 6 day PR tops mine. She ran a bit with Brian and I and killed it in the 72 hour.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Pablo Espinosa - ANOTHER Canadian Beastie - kicked my ass at 3DATF 72 hour, maker of Go-Juice. He and his crew helped keep me motivated and hydrated.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mike Melton and Bill Schultz in the timing tent - always upbeat, encouraging, and fun.</div>
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Melinda Yelverton - with whom I shared laps last year, and some laps this year - who not only ran but volunteered in the foot tent for multiple 8 hour shifts.</div>
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"Barefoot" Jake Brown - shared one fast lap and saw his cheerful self multiple times throughout the race.</div>
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All of the amazing volunteers in the aid tent.</div>
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Impossible to capture everyone...<br />
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-34758833141779469482018-09-07T13:50:00.001-07:002018-09-07T13:50:26.486-07:00ARFTA 2018 - Running with Legends - the Redux
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is not a young person’s race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, by young person, in this case, I mean
me, at age 49.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was ARFTA – “A Race
for the Ages”, an age handicapped multi day race designed by none other than
the master himself, Lazarus Lake, in order to give us youngsters a chance to
run on something approximating an even running field with older legendary ultra
runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As is the Laz way, there is
funny and brutal thrown in at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The race is in Manchester Tennessee, Labor Day weekend – when the days
can (and often do) get into the mid 90’s with ungodly humidity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The meals…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>are catered by Cracker Barrel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(You just try pounding down some chicken fried chicken, potatoes and
gravy, a biscuit, fried okra and maybe a piece of chess pie, and go out and run
some more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See what happens…). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had heard about this event from its inaugural run in 2014
through my friend Patrick McHenry, and wanted to try it myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It ended up being my first multi-day event in
its 3<span style="font-size: small;"><sup>rd</sup> running last year in 2017.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Had so much fun running with legends that I came back for another go.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I came into this race with some big yearly mileage under my
belt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been running on average
100-120 miles per week since early in the year, and had completed 2 multi-day
races (Across the Years 72 hour in Arizona over New Year’s and 3 Days at the
Fair 72 hour, late May) since my first ARFTA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I felt fully recovered from 3DATF, even with a couple of other shorter
races thrown in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given the age handicapping,
though, and the fact that the great Liz Bauer and runner extraordinaire Gunhild
Swanson (a powerhouse still, in her 70’s) had significant head starts on me, I
was not coming into this race with any expectation of anything other than
getting lots of miles in. I thought it was vaguely possible that 3<span style="font-size: small;"><sup>rd</sup>
female was in the cards.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">BJ had gone down ahead of me, as he was driving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was flying in on Thursday night, with the
plan of spending some time on the course fraternizing on Friday before my race
start on Saturday morning at 11am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After sleep on the plane and a good night’s rest, our first
stop Friday morning was Team Nashville – a running store Bill Baker had
introduced me to when I came down to run Locomotion 12.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The proprietors are Terry Coker and Robert…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d had a great time and bought some Altras
when I was here last, and also got some Swiftwick socks as a gift – so I was
back to chat and buy more socks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BJ and
I spent about an hour chatting with Robert and Terry, who had lots of questions
about ARFTA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended up with 3 pairs of
socks, a cool new handheld which would also allow me to carry my phone, and
several Team Nashville shirts, plus some great conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And… onward to Manchester we headed.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vjCXcASRED1bDrjaWnTQLap635L-QBIbnuZzvUDWHia-IULsyKMrPoR7SFQvNS08pbdYpZo5Z1yGbJby0PmYon5isg_6u1XxKmCaBS83nT7pw0qrhP2ZdQSstKze-UasuiTWFroxCp8/s1600/TeamNashville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vjCXcASRED1bDrjaWnTQLap635L-QBIbnuZzvUDWHia-IULsyKMrPoR7SFQvNS08pbdYpZo5Z1yGbJby0PmYon5isg_6u1XxKmCaBS83nT7pw0qrhP2ZdQSstKze-UasuiTWFroxCp8/s320/TeamNashville.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terry, Amy, Robert at Team Nashville</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We arrived at Fred Deadman Park about mid-day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were already a number of runners on the
course – some who had been running since 10pm the night before (The oldest
runner was Don Jans at age 86!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A lot
of us youngsters just used the afternoon as an opportunity to meet up with friends
and cheer on the older rock stars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran
into Michelle McClellan – a southern rock star who unfortunately was here with
an injury; my good friend Dave Christy who was set to start that evening, and
who crewed me to victory at 3DATF; said hello to the Mikes in the timing tent,
as well as the young Ms. Cantrell’s.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0FtGE8sxy7xTeS9wVrTyLNgs7DE3q0Hbcks5qZqDWALu71RORXOMP2CPMgwZ826jWJ_bTZlsL8Rp9jYNy3UUtqXTNyE2aUpvL_nSJECMEMqXDfm7A89SU8SHqm5FhRNat0CkvkbMKt8/s1600/AmyDaveMichelle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0FtGE8sxy7xTeS9wVrTyLNgs7DE3q0Hbcks5qZqDWALu71RORXOMP2CPMgwZ826jWJ_bTZlsL8Rp9jYNy3UUtqXTNyE2aUpvL_nSJECMEMqXDfm7A89SU8SHqm5FhRNat0CkvkbMKt8/s320/AmyDaveMichelle.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michelle McClellan, Dave Christy, and me</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After spending a bit of time on the course, BJ took me for a
drive to see a number of miles of the Vol State Course – another famous “Laz”
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had lunch at the Pickin
Chicken, which I remembered fondly from my race at Strolling Jim (another “Laz”
race, RD’d by Steve Durbin).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So many
memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it… was… hot out!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BJ welcoming me to Wartrace</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdNtS53WZQ9KEPx78dIEZDETiZjh0u_hnlY2xYYyz8t2jw9uALfDF99qBsxhWCDZeOBhz_BA8y-_nWNDIU6rP4ojyuPmcssXOyNdYvClv4dhOJVpXJ23MWncYCSxT8Rm83gzlGuUXSBY/s1600/PickenChicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdNtS53WZQ9KEPx78dIEZDETiZjh0u_hnlY2xYYyz8t2jw9uALfDF99qBsxhWCDZeOBhz_BA8y-_nWNDIU6rP4ojyuPmcssXOyNdYvClv4dhOJVpXJ23MWncYCSxT8Rm83gzlGuUXSBY/s320/PickenChicken.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Made a quick trip to Walmart for supplies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With each race I learn more about what I
need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Ethan Allen, I re-learned what
I should have already known – which was, when I’m super hot, what I crave is
something cold and milky – not solids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d
first run into this at Icarus where I survived on Coffee Coolattas, and
re-learned it at 3DATF and Ethan Allen where I found myself craving
milkshakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time I did the right
thing ahead of time and stocked up on faux Ensure as well as a number of
Starbucks Coffee drinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also got
myself seltzer water and caffeine free diet coke, both of which have proven
good thirst quenchers when it feels like I can’t stop being thirsty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For food I just got some cheesy Chex mix and
Pringles and figured I’d rely on any solid food available.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We went back to the course to pick up Dave Combs and Nicole
(“Nikky B”) Berglund for a decadent dinner at Jiffy Burger (a must go if you
are ever in Manchester!), and then spent another hour at the course before
heading back to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pre race breakfast was continental breakfast-a-la-RedRoof
(waffle from that cool “make your own” machine, eggs, biscuit, sausage
gravy).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My start time was 11am on
Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was hot and humid as soon
as we stepped outside of the hotel on Saturday morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We made a quick Dunkin stop to ensure Mr.
Melton had fuel, and then on to the course to get set up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pre-race jitters weren’t as bad as last year, having
completed 3 multi-days since then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nonetheless, I retreated into my own head and turned up the tunes to get
into my running zone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At age 49, I got one more hour than I did last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only other 49 year old starter was
Michelle McClellan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took our pic
together, and started off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">First miles are always hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>First miles in a multi-day are a particular mental bitch, because you
know just how much is in front of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Throw in starting close to noon on a Tennessee summer day and you have a
potential recipe for despair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My training lately has been killer, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is exactly what I’ve been training for –
these super slow almost effortless miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am used to starting out slow – it’s how I do most of my runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mile one was something around 11:30-11:45 –
which was exactly where I wanted to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a bit of stiffness and awkwardness in my legs but not too much
and I knew now from experience it would work itself out pretty soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What can I say about day 1…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>first couple of hours were slow, steady, and super hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I brought a hat, I chose to not put
it on – I like having my head bare when I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Several hours into the race, clouds started to appear, and I think all
of our spirits lifted as those clouds occasionally blocked the sun for a few
precious minutes, and then for even longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The temperature difference was hugely palpable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started praying for rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By 3 or 4, it was looking like I’d get my wish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a super dark section of the sky,
which had pretty much fully clouded over, and there were some rumbles of
thunder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want to ruin my phone,
so I threw my running belt (which had 2 bottles and my music) into the shelter,
and just ran with a handheld bottle in one hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was the last time I had music for the
entire race.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The rain eventually did come – it was never a downpour, but
it was steady enough to form a number of puddles and to cool everything down
until it started to get dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a
huge huge mental boost, since I knew once dark came, it would be steadily cool
enough to run in comfort.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of my mental dilemmas was how to handle mealtime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the wonderful and horrible things
about this race is that it is catered by Cracker Barrel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now don’t get me wrong – I’m a HUGE Cracker
Barrel fan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like Hashbrown Casserole,
Sawmill gravy, buttermilk biscuits, fried okra, country fried steak and
meatloaf as much as the next person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Probably more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meals every 6
hours are also a great time so socialize with friends and legends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, last year I know I spent significant
time off the course inhaling EASILY 1500-2000 calories at mealtimes, and headed
out bloated and uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was
invariably followed, like clockwork, 2 loops later, by yet another slow loop
necessitated by an emergency bathroom stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I came into the race estimating I could add on 10 miles to my total time
by drastically curtailing my Cracker Barrel activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, when dinnertime came on day 1 and folks started herding
into the Ada Wright Center, I stopped briefly at my table and grabbed a protein
shake, downed it, and kept on going.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was the right move.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">8 hours into the race my GPS died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, at this point I was running completely
sans electronics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No music (gave it up
for the rain hours earlier) and no pace on my wrist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt naked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It didn’t feel bad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t remember what time I started running with Sue Scholl
but it was after the loss of electronics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was, at that point, doing somewhere in the 13’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From straight running, I had started taking
mini walk breaks at the little hill at the end of the shaded sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At some point Sue and I found ourselves
running along together and I picked up my running pace to stay with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although her running pace was more aggressive
than mine, she was taking frequent walk breaks, so I was able to keep up with
her pace during the run portions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
found our pace steadily in the mid 12’s which for me was kind of cool since I
had been in the 13’s with no walk breaks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a lesson in there for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We ran together for hours, chatting about strategies for 6 day races (I’m
running my first 6 day in December) and keeping each other from taking
meaningless time off the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those hours
were amazing – but eventually I needed to let Sue go because I just couldn’t
run at her run pace anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometime
after the sun came up the next morning, I stopped seeing Sue around the course
for a number of hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although I was trying to minimize the “Crack” effect, I did
have to stop for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can’t
pass up Cracker Barrel breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
some breakfast casserole, a biscuit and I think a piece of sausage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of orange juice, and then back out on
the course as quickly as I could muster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was yum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it was getting
hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are now on the morning of day 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took off my singlet early in the day and
ran pretty much the rest of the race in just my jog bra.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d packed short sleeve shirts and even arm
warmers anticipating cooler nights, but I never got cool enough to need
anything more than the jog bra.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
biggest issues at this point was managing the ongoing heat rash and
chafing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d developed some really angry
looking spots on the inside of both of my thighs, and my girly parts were
pretty unhappy as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m afraid Kim
Durst’s kids got a bit of a surprise on a couple of laps as I stopped at my
table to squeeze a handful of RunGoo on my fingers and stick my hands inside my
shorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It hurt like a mother for a
little while every time I lubed up, but after a couple of minutes really helped
to manage the chafing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it got hotter
and hotter, I’d occasionally try to cool off by sticking my entire face and
head in the melty icy in my cooler, and then immersing my arms up to the
shoulders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hit my 100 miles in 22 hours and change, and finished the
24 hours with 103 and change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It left me
in a pretty good spot to hit my goal of 175…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>which would be an ARFTA PR by 15 miles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Morning on day 2 I found myself running with Dave Corfman –
a superstar from Indiana who had set the course record last year at 210 miles
with his running buddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remembered
being just in awe of them last year, keeping up a brutal pace hour after
hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was stunned that I was able to
run with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As with Sue, it felt like
a dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d found ourselves running
together just because we were taking some of our walk breaks at the same
spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow we hooked up, and got in
sync. We knew, to the step, where it was time to run and where it was time to walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For hours and hours and hours we ran
together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got to hear wonderful
running stories and some fabulously politically incorrect jokes that elicited
groans and kept us moving in good cheer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It became mid-day and beyond, and we kept moving – some of the only
folks on the course running through the heat of the day, maintaining generally
15-16’s, telling each other that the sun would be going down soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like a long long time before it
started to get cooler, but eventually it did, and there was once again relief. We
bypassed the Cracker Barrel dinner again – I downed a Starbucks for the 180
calories and milky yumminess. Neither one of us had slept, and at one point in
the middle of the evening we grabbed a 5 hour energy to just give a little
boost and bypass sleep a little longer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 2 was where I saw my place ticking steadily upward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BJ was giving me stats as I went by… I was 9<span style="font-size: small;"><sup>th</sup>
woman…. now 6<sup>th</sup>….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and on one
lap went from 6<sup>th</sup> to 4<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gunhild Swanson, who had over 70 miles more than me was my prime
competition at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a
magical moment when I went from 2<sup>nd</sup> to 1<sup>st</sup>….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and then I had to maintain that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was much much harder than it might have
seemed, with a competitor like Gunhild.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was always out there, always steadily making progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t dare let up.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t remember exactly when I needed to break off from
Dave, but there was a point where I realized I once again needed to run more
slowly than he was running…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my body
wanted to just do its own thing again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was sad to do this – having run together for so long, it was strange to be back
out there by myself again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was feeling
for Dave, took because his ankle had started to really bother him and he was
trying to figure out what was going on with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>here we were, in the middle
of night 2, with single digits left on the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t really sure how that happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also don’t remember when I took my nap –
but at some point late on day 2 I squeezed in 20 minutes of sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was the only sleep I got during the
race.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3EsKQ_H3DqSF8hW3RdzsD8Zm8V11IuseOGOJwNXY0YWuUnKSWItfYbzu4cstWLaKnxNIUNMJIiT8fwxNmPEtlj6SEMQFhPo_ca9cRylEsJA4fqqUL3RPGY0f384-f-Bqb-44bYRHGnA/s1600/DoyleAndFriends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3EsKQ_H3DqSF8hW3RdzsD8Zm8V11IuseOGOJwNXY0YWuUnKSWItfYbzu4cstWLaKnxNIUNMJIiT8fwxNmPEtlj6SEMQFhPo_ca9cRylEsJA4fqqUL3RPGY0f384-f-Bqb-44bYRHGnA/s320/DoyleAndFriends.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running with Legends</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN19MBblPqaHXCGtZ8z-uN3O2d_L5-TMOrZnGC-EmvptTr9rPJx6y6IgAWUKm9zzvW7WtPN5CrtDGDgrRv6LI7uDDop42ba23qG7_R37it7K6VCbvhywmOO-boyT3XQPUyMO_J-EUwtQc/s1600/ReginaRunning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN19MBblPqaHXCGtZ8z-uN3O2d_L5-TMOrZnGC-EmvptTr9rPJx6y6IgAWUKm9zzvW7WtPN5CrtDGDgrRv6LI7uDDop42ba23qG7_R37it7K6VCbvhywmOO-boyT3XQPUyMO_J-EUwtQc/s320/ReginaRunning.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Regina Sooey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68l2fNVR5_xigmSDrRKZwVS8_6yuHZ9o0M1N4noArdoE1HQSWZ8WOfnq2og7zJY-WX4wwqfTFtQHnZXEIcsHbzH0BbZZS8IMLB1talJXT_W9d8ZSHX4W1Rmw2574-HR_s40nPimgcoWo/s1600/Westbrook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68l2fNVR5_xigmSDrRKZwVS8_6yuHZ9o0M1N4noArdoE1HQSWZ8WOfnq2og7zJY-WX4wwqfTFtQHnZXEIcsHbzH0BbZZS8IMLB1talJXT_W9d8ZSHX4W1Rmw2574-HR_s40nPimgcoWo/s320/Westbrook.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Richard Westbrook</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">6 am came and I was enormously happy for the pancakes and
OJ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it started to get hot. Again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the last morning, 5 hours left on the
clock, and I had work to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gunhild and
her friends were back out on the course, moving strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t, at this point, feel like I had a
lot of strong left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hips and
hamstrings were getting wonky, and I was just fighting the heat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Around 9:30 or so I was really fighting exhaustion and sore
muscles and couldn’t do more than walk. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took off my running shoes and walked a lap
in my sandals to get a break, just burning up, and it was a 30 minute lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This wouldn’t do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swapped out from my sandals into my Hokas
(I’d been wearing my zero drop Altras for about 50 miles) and all of a sudden I
could run again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just having that 5mm
drop gave me enough of a feeling of rest in my hammies and hips that I started
throwing down 16 minute miles again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
hit the 48 hour mark (11 am) with 176 miles – a 10 mile PR for me for 48 hours,
and I still had another hour on the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As I hit 176 and passed the timing tent, Mike Melton called out “You
have 180 looking at you if you want it… just need to do 19 minute miles.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>WTF???<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was all ready to crawl into the community center to get some much
needed cool, and Mike is telling me 180 is possibly in the cards? DAMN
him!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aaargh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of heading in for a minute to cool
off, I staggered back on to the course for the most painful lap of my
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Less than ¼ mile in I was dying of
the heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wanted to sit down,
anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But not in the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d take a few steps, and just stop and look
with despair ahead of me, afraid I would just fall down and not be able to get
back up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About ½ of the way around the
course I passed Regina Sooey’s aid station, where Bill Page was starting to
break things down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took one look at
me and asked if I wanted a chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes I wanted a chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat, and cursed Mike Melton and his “you
can do 180” to Bill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Sorry Mike!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I informed Bill that I most definitely did
NOT have 180 in me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bill gave me a blue Gatorade
which I chugged half of, and then used the bottle do cool my cheeks and my
neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I staggered back out, feeling just
the tiniest bit better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every step just seemed impossibly slow and
unsteady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">BJ met me about 100 yards before the timing mat where I
informed HIM that I did NOT have 180 in me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just needed to cool
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed to be done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt awful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I passed over the mat… 177 miles, 45 minutes left on the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BJ says “you’ve got enough time for another
lap”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shriek curses at him like a
crazy lady and stumble into the air conditioning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He follows me in (brave man).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He says “if you stop now, will you hate
yourself in the morning?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Yes).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Damnit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Ok – come get me in 5 minutes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">40 minutes on the clock and back out I go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel tons better after a few minutes of
cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not fast – but I’m not feeling
deathly ill either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I make steady
forward progress, breaking into the occasional trot where I count to 20 before
scaling back to a walk again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are
14 minutes left on the clock when I jog in my victory lap at 178 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I raise my hands in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I don’t have a 14 minute mile in me,
so I am done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">178 miles in 49 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>An 18 mile PR from last year’s race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>First female at a race I never dreamed I could win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miles and miles and miles of joyful steady
running with legends and rockstars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
love and joy on the course was palpable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am in heaven.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAZbCRvvcIJeZNYE3lAzATHtcqh4zG9x2tL8_CuUsmC5caLDZCy2qnOhu_yoOa__z1ERBBUXAITFHO_UJp_xerKpDc18qsjagz2MTGOcrge5km-ZoviTxfCam9RbHfbHtg0Lv2YbCPBc/s1600/AMyBJAfterRace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAZbCRvvcIJeZNYE3lAzATHtcqh4zG9x2tL8_CuUsmC5caLDZCy2qnOhu_yoOa__z1ERBBUXAITFHO_UJp_xerKpDc18qsjagz2MTGOcrge5km-ZoviTxfCam9RbHfbHtg0Lv2YbCPBc/s320/AMyBJAfterRace.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my guy - after the race</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTdqua5p3g86EbGZ62JI5jtE6QGZcwq3HX0rX5dRIUEM42xS312xs7eEQXRiSFIPlz3IikaNVk2VLjwxQCK4znppLpaSiAj2ycL0PXZ1iCwHSOhpu-F80J_kqz8UJmourZXX_zmeywfE/s1600/GettingTrophy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTdqua5p3g86EbGZ62JI5jtE6QGZcwq3HX0rX5dRIUEM42xS312xs7eEQXRiSFIPlz3IikaNVk2VLjwxQCK4znppLpaSiAj2ycL0PXZ1iCwHSOhpu-F80J_kqz8UJmourZXX_zmeywfE/s320/GettingTrophy.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting my trophy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCx-kJXdEMsxvn0AIUoGYU0AqD-CCRFc4lFu_1ENelMoCo8eDwAuSRaHUQ-iRCVhWf1JVsmF3edcDlvcItqpVHe4jX5IFL4BjsbXH3C-1_qG8pLc9X6NUB-p2tP8mLNSDn6twcXSLVyvM/s1600/AMyJoeKelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCx-kJXdEMsxvn0AIUoGYU0AqD-CCRFc4lFu_1ENelMoCo8eDwAuSRaHUQ-iRCVhWf1JVsmF3edcDlvcItqpVHe4jX5IFL4BjsbXH3C-1_qG8pLc9X6NUB-p2tP8mLNSDn6twcXSLVyvM/s320/AMyJoeKelly.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock stars Joe and Kelley Fejes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvUkzWH7IJI-0xgvHzD_3ewMw5-7ivd4KVZoFp7-sKghfW66g02AC6mlvUXQC5FQDYOSg79kKrWdn3FTBB6RL2Np8FGTucxdAasAX5pAU7JyOehhhm-GU0bfKLf68NeRiSeiWFrwqVI4/s1600/AmyMNarkL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvUkzWH7IJI-0xgvHzD_3ewMw5-7ivd4KVZoFp7-sKghfW66g02AC6mlvUXQC5FQDYOSg79kKrWdn3FTBB6RL2Np8FGTucxdAasAX5pAU7JyOehhhm-GU0bfKLf68NeRiSeiWFrwqVI4/s320/AmyMNarkL.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Mark Lapa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-67338160091655150492018-05-22T13:08:00.002-07:002018-05-23T05:48:24.888-07:00The Blessing and the Curse - 72 Hours at the Fair 2018<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3 Days at the Fair was supposed to be my first attempt at a
multi-day in 2017.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, after
signing up, I found out that my daughter’s college graduation was going to be
falling smack in the middle of that weekend, which changed my plans from being
a runner to being crew to David Christy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I deferred my entry for a year, and instead, ARFTA (A Race for the Ages)
became my first multi-day at 48 hours last Labor Day Weekend, with my first
attempt at a 72 at Across the Years over New Years 2017/18.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus it was that this race, 2018 3DATF was
actually going to be my third multi-day, and my second attempt at 72.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It is both a blessing and a curse that multi-days appear to
be the events at which I perform most strongly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am a slow runner – I always have been, and until several years ago, I thought
that meant that I just wasn’t a “good” runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have since learned that there is a place for slow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The curse of a multi-day is obvious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a long, long time to run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In order to do really well at an event, I
need to prepare to be on my feet for a very.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The blessing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ahhhhh –
well, that’s where things really get good.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With each multi-day event, I’ve learned a little bit more,
and tried to apply it all to this race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Training</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Big mileage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
jumped from 80 miles per week to 100 miles per week, to my highest training
week of 130.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve had folks caution me
against this… there are those who say it’s not needed, but for me, the big
mileage does many good things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First –
time on my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running as much as I do
mean my feet are hardened to being out there for many miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Secondly, mental training…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>since often lately my weekday morning run is
14 miles, that has turned 14-15 miles into a run that no longer feels “long”
but just feels normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s a big plus
when you are running hundreds of miles at a shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Third – I get used to running tired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even my “recovery” weeks are generally at
least 90 miles – so my body is used to not getting what others would consider
solid rest, and then going out and doing it all again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also a bonus in multi-days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fourth – recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running big training miles means I bounce
back pretty quickly – so far, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
move around pretty easily even after really long events.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Crew<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bill Schultz has educated me on the importance of a good
crew at a multi-day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several months
prior to the event, I asked David Christy to be my primary crew member and he
graciously agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My daughter Patricia
was supposed to be on the team as well, but ended up not being able to make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately, Bill Schultz was also at the
race and provided relief when Dave slept, as well as several much needed trips
to the grocery store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d actually headed down to
Alabama a few weeks ago to meet up with Dave and go over race plans, hang out
and see the sights.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Shelter<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">During a multi-day, the runner will need a place to
re-group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More importantly, the crew
needs a place to hang out and be comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Once again, Bill educated me on a way to do this in luxury – which is,
to rent an RV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>3DATF has a relationship
with 84RV nearby, who will actually deliver and set up an RV for runners, so
you don’t even have to drive the beast!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I decided that was the way to go…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I rented my home away from home a couple weeks prior to the race, and at
multiple times found myself incredibly grateful that I’d decided to make that
investment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was invaluable to have a
place to organize my gear, keep my food cold, allow me and my crew to rest in a
temperature controlled environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was never as grateful for the shelter as I was when I saw the rainy forecast –
this meant that Dave wouldn’t have to freeze his ass off trying to help
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also came up with the brilliant
idea of bringing a clothesline which he set up in the RV where we constantly
had wet clothes drying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></div>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Preparation<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the past, I’ve followed the Francis Kwok method of
preparation, in that I’ll generally pack the night before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time I did better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started making lists and laying things out
at least week before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was aided immeasurably
by Dave Christy and his planning details – he made out a spreadsheet of
everything he thought I needed to bring, including a number of things I had
totally forgotten about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like… cookware,
towels and bedding for the RV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
planning allowed me to make some key purchases ahead of time, like inexpensive sleeping
bags, blow up pillows, a camp coffeepot for the stove, a clothesline and
clothespins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave gave me a bunch of
shit when he saw the clothespins, saying “who uses these anymore?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, he realized how handy they were for
hanging up wet gloves.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sunday before the race found me at REI trying on waterproof jackets... I found a beautiful Cobalt one and with a gift card and my REI dividend, I got it down from $80 to $3. Bonus!! </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because there were going to be weather extremes (anything
from heat/humidity to cold rain), I had to pack a lot of everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately my car is roomy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Lead-up<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dave arrived in DC on Monday night…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d flown him up a little early in order to
give him time to explore DC a little, and to chill before the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Monday
was rainy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very, very rainy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave and I had a nice dinner on Monday, but
spent the night getting not very good sleep due to the tremendous thunderstorm
and downpour that resulting in water leaking through my bathroom ceiling fan,
on to my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I woke up to driving rain
on Tuesday morning, but it cleared enough for me to get in an easy 6 mile
shake-out run, and for Dave to go to meet a running friend at the National
Gallery on Tuesday that he’d never met before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tuesday night I was starting to get a little squirrely – went out to
eat, and then Dave went to bed while I finished packing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Wednesday morning arrived… once again to
the sound of raindrops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The drive up was wet but otherwise uneventful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The closer we got, the wetter it got, until
it was absolutely pouring by the time we reached the Fairgrounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The 6 day runners, of course, had already
been running for 2 days at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The first thing Dave and I had to deal with was the fact that the door
to my rented RV was right in the middle of what was effectively a little pond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a good 3-4 inches of pooled water
from the pavement to the door – about a 15 foot walk… and it was clear there
would no way to traverse that distance without getting feet and shoes totally
sopping unless we came up with a solution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of course… Dave did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First order
of business was a trip to Lowes to pick up cinderblocks and build a
walkway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also a trip to Walmart to get
groceries, towels, and some last minute essentials.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, back to the fairgrounds where I got to
walk a lap with Bill Gentry before heading off to a pre-race dinner with Bill
Schultz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrived back to find Dave in
the RV chatting with none other than the famous Pete Kostelnik – (fastest known
transcon run 2 years ago), who was here for his first 6 day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had lots of fun chatting with Pete and
warming up with some hot chocolate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was trying to ignore the fact that after one more sleep, I’d be running for 72
hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And… it was still raining.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span> </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGlCyit6hdq5LBJ8VkFFa54CPuTQyH2oRJgUgplWpqVm4Aqeso2d_TwYEPenBJoAzadQavUo08r919aUjbdVihh_0rJVzTPqzP1NAi4w1RQlWvR_WgAUzF4vjcmOgqom3yceVeLQkjLY/s1600/IMG_1116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGlCyit6hdq5LBJ8VkFFa54CPuTQyH2oRJgUgplWpqVm4Aqeso2d_TwYEPenBJoAzadQavUo08r919aUjbdVihh_0rJVzTPqzP1NAi4w1RQlWvR_WgAUzF4vjcmOgqom3yceVeLQkjLY/s320/IMG_1116.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chez Mower. Note cinderblock path.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Race morning</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Race started at 9, so I set my alarm for 6:15 in order to
give me time to have coffee, eat, and mentally prepare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was pouring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normally I might choose to go out and get
something eggy- but in the rain I didn’t want to go anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rummaged around in the RV fridge to check
out my options and chose that classic breakfast of running champions everywhere
– a naked pre-fab “Everything” bagel and a cheese stuffed weenie, with a side
of coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was delicious.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69x1lwFfU-ozsmKiUkjg3tawEsIbTWqFUUqIGY2VXY4qd1-XjBTUKyWCfcIQlf9xi_HW0_T9SvR1_Yy6bkU6FcWUeyisOHsAgWYl1DhndrGE559FOAXUfXs5IMpqZMPnjusU_rd01RVw/s1600/IMG_1114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1600" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69x1lwFfU-ozsmKiUkjg3tawEsIbTWqFUUqIGY2VXY4qd1-XjBTUKyWCfcIQlf9xi_HW0_T9SvR1_Yy6bkU6FcWUeyisOHsAgWYl1DhndrGE559FOAXUfXs5IMpqZMPnjusU_rd01RVw/s320/IMG_1114.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At 8:00 I was able to register, and I went and picked up my
timing chip and got my swag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick and
Jennifer always have the best race swag anywhere, and this year was no
exception.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I received a fabulous attractive
and waterproof light blue jacket which would turn out to be perfect for the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>8:15-9 was a blur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>8:55 found me standing at the race start
again just trying to ignore the fact that I was about to be on my feet for
something close to forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rick’s son
gave us the race instructions, 5 minutes passed, and…. GO.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have learned that it is IMPOSSIBLE to go too slow at the
beginning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My general mantra is… if it
feels like you are doing ANY work at all, you are going too fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first lap was slow and super easy –
clocked it somewhere around 11:30 – which was perfect for early pacing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was pouring for the first lap, but
gradually started to lighten up in terms of intensity, and within a few laps
the steady rain had stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
running pretty consistent mile splits – within seconds of each other in the
high elevens, so I was right on target.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7VRGIMenVTqFcWJpeyc3BTB-VhDSiK_jHEcJMTtLf4XJKMiSzyCL2m4MsITJBLmSYt-kNOOwd8Q2hr6l4Y1BkSPmrg0gs8AncRHJPWZ9oRZD6UDYB9okaMOiRhWLVugcYMRum1nl2Ys/s1600/IMG_1133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1521" data-original-width="1082" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7VRGIMenVTqFcWJpeyc3BTB-VhDSiK_jHEcJMTtLf4XJKMiSzyCL2m4MsITJBLmSYt-kNOOwd8Q2hr6l4Y1BkSPmrg0gs8AncRHJPWZ9oRZD6UDYB9okaMOiRhWLVugcYMRum1nl2Ys/s320/IMG_1133.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hard to remember a lot of day 1 except that… it did not feel
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Knowing it was supposed to rain
for a few hours and then stop, I started out wearing shoes I didn’t plan on
wearing a lot during the race, with the assumption that they’d be getting wet
and that I’d be changing out of them in a few hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normally I wear custom inserts in my shoes,
but for my early miles I wore the Hokas without inserts, and was definitely feeling
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feet felt off… hips felt tired and
like they were working too much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead
of my joyful smooth easy, this felt a bit uncomfortable – which, early in Day
1, worried me a bit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because of the hip tiredness and some wonkiness in my right
foot, I changed out of the Hokas and into my Altra (zero drop) new Lone Peaks
with new inserts earlier than I might normally have done a shoe change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I immediately noticed a difference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hips loosened up, stride felt more
comfortable and even, and for the first time my body started to feel good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was please with this decision and soldiered
on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It’s only been a few days, but that first night feels so
long ago now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe it was actually
the only dry night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I pretty
much enjoyed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was still running
strong…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still had my music…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just don’t remember much about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I stopped into the RV at least once to
sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My goal with sleep breaks is to
try to do 20 minute power naps only when necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get a lot of rest in a short 20 minutes,
and because I’m so slow, I need more time on my feet and less lying down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My previous 2 multi-days I had 95 mile days on day 1, so
that’s what I was aiming for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended up
with 94.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not sure where that other mile
went except that as noted above, this race just didn’t feel as strong and
smooth to me as ATY – for no reason that I could identify.</span></div>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span> </h3>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Day 2<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Day 2 started with fair weather and quickly turned partly
sunny and quite warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got hot relatively
quickly but since my crew was asleep I just pulled off my Tee and ran in my jog
bra until I could have Dave get me a singlet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m pretty sure that’s when I started to burn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbuccWFtDoWOCCpEsXRC6-tC9aW8fOeVRFA4L-lyyI9gf1eFfmWXHXWoz2-7v8Kbj4T7eRZGWviBMK4fEUMCLGTSZ2bGmHj0TicsrBB2p0xsqKgczZ7sU1LQameYBziVXGbZpFvS1YkI/s1600/IMG_1170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="767" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbuccWFtDoWOCCpEsXRC6-tC9aW8fOeVRFA4L-lyyI9gf1eFfmWXHXWoz2-7v8Kbj4T7eRZGWviBMK4fEUMCLGTSZ2bGmHj0TicsrBB2p0xsqKgczZ7sU1LQameYBziVXGbZpFvS1YkI/s320/IMG_1170.JPG" width="255" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once he woke up, I got an application of
sunscreen and a little more cover up than what I was wearing, but there was a
lot of sun exposure going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
some runners like to wear long sleeved white shirts when it’s sunny and hot –
I, on the other hand, do better with as little clothing as I can get away with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day 2 was mentally better than day 1, since
at this point I had over 100 miles in and was running on pace, and also because
the sunshine made for a more cheerful course – however, the heat and humidity
took a toll on energy and pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I
spent a good portion of Day 2 feeling thirsty, and for the first time in a race
I started craving different drinks than I have generally relied on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drinks that felt REALLY good were really
cold caffeine free diet coke (which is non-intuitive, because the reason Coke
is such a good ultra food is because of the caffeine and calories, and I was
choosing a brand without either), and also Perrier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that’s because any ingestion of pure
sugar, similar to ingestion of salt, somehow added to my thirstiness, so at
that point I needed drinks without salt or sugar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other thing I tried, because my body told
me it would be good, was a squirt of pure lemon juice in my water bottle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The extra tartness without any sugar whet my
saliva glands a bit and somehow quenched the thirst better than plain water was
doing.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6dhEP0Ak6F0uF5Ur7_-1Bv6DrjHxoQ9OrGfkHwdJdDECbM9el7LcaENj8A7F2haCnG9w00kotnZFTaxL2qNlg5NQsrbLQgXpUt_BhSnzEdZqjXJ7V-wF_XZeI2Kz78gQZ_CWebNin3Y/s1600/IMG_1120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6dhEP0Ak6F0uF5Ur7_-1Bv6DrjHxoQ9OrGfkHwdJdDECbM9el7LcaENj8A7F2haCnG9w00kotnZFTaxL2qNlg5NQsrbLQgXpUt_BhSnzEdZqjXJ7V-wF_XZeI2Kz78gQZ_CWebNin3Y/s320/IMG_1120.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">101 miles in. Time for a donut.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Want to take a moment to talk about goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So – the woman who had been identified as one
of my stronger competitors in the field had actually run the race early – the talented
and lovely Ms. Eliza Hamm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had
logged 154 miles in her race, and it was relatively likely that I just needed
to exceed that number in order to win the women’s race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed do-able to me, since I had run 220
at Across the Years, barring any accidents or injuries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought it was highly possible I could hit
the 154 and the women’s win within the first 48 hours, as I’d previously logged
160 at ARFTA in 48 hours, so that was my first real “landmark” mile post after
I hit the 101 mile buckle point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
was going to be rough mentally was trying to have the fortitude of reaching a
random goal in my head once I already had the women’s win, if there wasn’t any
chance of an overall win against the men in the field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I knew I was one of the top 5 racers
overall, there were a couple of men consistently ahead of me or near me (rock
stars Pablo Espinosa, John Brown and Ryan Jones).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was pretty sure I didn’t have a shot at the
overall win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My super stretch (A+) goal
going in was 240, which would give me 20 more miles than ATY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My next goal (A-) was any sort of a PR – 221 would
get me there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though I’d done 220,
I’d done it under some competitive race conditions, so I knew it would be hard
for me to have the motivation to even go 220+ unless there was something
external pushing me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pure B goal was
getting the 200 mile buckle, and C goal was winning the women’s race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of the things I’ve had to struggle with most was holding
on to my A goal until the end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At D3
last year, my superstretch goal was 110 miles in 24 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended up with 109.4 – not because I couldn’t
have gotten that extra .6, but because, by the end of the race, I just didn’t
give a shit anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Watching Nica
Shields at that race just killing it – dying, panting hard, in SO MUCH PAIN at
the end to reach her record setting goal was really eye opening in terms of
what it takes to reach hard goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So –
those were my goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Day 2, as noted, was hot, humid and sunny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point Bill Schultz showed me the
forecast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometime around 1 in the
morning it went up to 40% chance of rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By 2 in the morning, it went up to 100%, and pretty much stayed at
90-100% until at least 5:00 pm the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the temp was dropping into
the 40’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or, at least, disheartening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To know
that I was going from cheerful running conditions to at least 12 hours of
miserable… Well, time to gird the loins and mentally prepare.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A new thing at this race was ditching my electronics. There came a time early on when I realized there was no reason at all to wear my Garmin. It just rubbed on my wrist and was heavy, and really was not giving me any information that the timing board wasn't giving me. I also ditched my phone, which was REALLY unusual. I always always run with music, and this time, for the last 2 out of the total 3 days, it was just me in my head. Unique - but freeing. And, for much of day 2 I ran holding my water bottle rather than having it in a belt around my waist, so I could avoid chafing. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQEK_C7MdkFFAZ_bY08qA5NRTpo_u0tn0rMaQU2yd6eXqPgjmymSs6moa80vWI-Nu_yalxkZma2KUhVre_6F3Wtv_XiX4skVtgneT4fJkO3zrYWWgrmUJJ10jXTcxPGZ9ZQ9HLLZU7_Q/s1600/IMG_1153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQEK_C7MdkFFAZ_bY08qA5NRTpo_u0tn0rMaQU2yd6eXqPgjmymSs6moa80vWI-Nu_yalxkZma2KUhVre_6F3Wtv_XiX4skVtgneT4fJkO3zrYWWgrmUJJ10jXTcxPGZ9ZQ9HLLZU7_Q/s320/IMG_1153.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A highlight of day 2 was spending a little bit of time on
the course with the legendary Ann Trason, who actually did a video interview of
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s out there on FB somewhere and I
need to figure out how to get it on my Facebook page.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Night 2 fell…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and,
sometime in the middle of the night, as predicted, the rain started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And intensified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it got colder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had pulled on my lightest running tights in
anticipation of the temperature drop, and it became pretty immediately clear
that I was going to need to take aggressive steps all night to stay warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I switched from a light long sleeved top and
light tights to a “cold gear” long sleeved top, layered with a tech short
sleeve shirt, layered with the vest portion of a windbreaker, with a long
sleeved fleece hoodie over that, finally topped with my new waterproof running
jacket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I switched my bottom layer from
my light tights to my thermal tights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Also wore gloves, and a brimmed running hat with the waterproof hood
over that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And… hand warmers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every couple of hours, I’d stop in to the RV
for a shoe change – I’d take off the old wet stuff, dry my feet, slather on a
fresh coat of RunGoo to prevent blisters, and put on dry socks and shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d also switch out my sopping wet gloves for
ones that were only damp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(None were
dry).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave would immediately stuff
newspaper into my shoes to dry them out for future use.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The switch into dry shoes always made a huge
difference in warmth and running comfort – at least until the next pair got
drenched.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So went night 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I thought I’d end up with a lower 48 hour split than ARFTA
or ATY (ARFTA was 160, ATY was 161), but I got to 160 with 2 hours to spare,
took an hour long nap, and logged another 6 miles to get in 166 in 48 hours - a 48 hour PR by 5 miles.</span></div>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Day 3<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dawn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day 3. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had really been hoping my daughter would be coming to crew
– but she felt ill on the trip down the day before, and although she’d
expressed willingness to come down early on day 3, I had told her not to bother
due to the miserable weather…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought
she’d just have an awful time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did
have a visit from another friend in the area, so that was a mood lifter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As was the fact that I was on my last day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Day 3 turned out to be the really good day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day 1 and Day 2 both never felt great, though
day 2 was better than day 1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day 3… was transcendental.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d learned at the end of my first 72 hour
that even when you thought your run was gone gone gone, you could find it if
you looked really hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was just a
mental game of telling your body to run when your body was telling you “F you”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It also helped to strategically pick WHERE you
were going to run – like anything resembling a downhill or a flat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, unlike my first 72 hour, I spent all of
day 3 mixing up run with my walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There were so many unexpected moments of strong on Day
3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My body was tired… but my mind was
strong, and I was on an emotional high of knowing that I’d been able to take
lessons from my earlier multi-days and apply them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And… it was getting warmer and the rain was
lightening up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It really felt like
coming out of a dark night into a clear dawn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And… I felt like a for-real multi-day runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A bright star on day 3 was the ongoing encouragement from
Stephen Bandfield, who was on site crewing Robert Kootz for his 24 hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stephen gave me upbeat words of encouragement
EVERY time I passed by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gave me
cookies and he joked with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
there for my most emotional moment on the course. Another constant source of encouragement was my new friend Linda Kenny - always cheerful.</span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I hit 200 miles with 12 hours left on the clock, and with
enough energy that it would be a crime not to go for my A- goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>230 it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Get ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get set.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s go for 230.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Night 3….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was…
perfection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am not a religious person…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>except when I run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I run,
(and run and run and run….), I am transformed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am in awe of this universe and its beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am in awe of the incredible stories of all
of the beautiful people out here on the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am struck dumb by the eerie beauty of the streetlights shining through
the fog, with a background of lightly pattering rain and the chirping of spring
peepers and the crow of an occasional rooster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of passing a really tired runner, singing quietly to himself and, by
accident, to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am in awe that this
nerdy, overweight, former drinker and smoker has transformed into some kind of
a runner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I amazed by what I can push my
body to do, and I am ever so grateful for my body for doing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out here, in the warmish foggy solitude of
night I find my God and I am humbled.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbd2ndjA7XBO7Eg03RS-xgEajXn2j7pxMObEEl_Gd7wiuLKD7GfskG6pXTfyR3jvNtK885S_6CY4vNvdOZm_PfrXEhEa7NskYaoXEQRS-qN5Nty0oTsY_kZhr9S-SsEJrIACGZTSi8fA/s1600/IMG_1156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="489" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbd2ndjA7XBO7Eg03RS-xgEajXn2j7pxMObEEl_Gd7wiuLKD7GfskG6pXTfyR3jvNtK885S_6CY4vNvdOZm_PfrXEhEa7NskYaoXEQRS-qN5Nty0oTsY_kZhr9S-SsEJrIACGZTSi8fA/s320/IMG_1156.jpg" width="233" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometime in the very early morning hours, I have a burst of
energy and find myself running amazingly well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It appears I might hit 230 and have time to spare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am hungry hungry hungry and at 4:00 am I
pass by the aid station and ask what time breakfast is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> For</span> the past 2 days, my mornings were
considerably brightened by eggs, pancakes and bacon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The volunteer said breakfast should be out by 5.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fine… I can keep moving until 5 with the thought
of eggs and pancakes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5:00 comes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swing
by the aid station…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>no breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another lap… 5:18.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swing by again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One more lap and still nothing except cold pizza and chicken nuggets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ask “when is breakfast?.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They said “Oh, on the last day, breakfast isn’t
served until the end of the race and everyone eats together”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>WTF?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No eggsies?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No pancakes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No bacon?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I almost start to cry, and say to the
volunteer in a wavering voice…. “But I needed that breakfast to get me through
the last 7 miles!”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They cheerfully
reply their confidence that I can do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am not so sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am so very, very crushed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And, worse, I am slowing down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do another lap… and instead of my steady 18’s,
it has deteriorated somewhere into the 20’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am wavering, starting to get delirious… staggering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to sleep so badly that I am afraid I might fall down in the middle
of the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
this point, it is approaching 6 am and I am very afraid if my miles deteriorate
into 30 min miles, I might not make my 130.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have 6 laps to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stagger
through one more and make a strategic decision to go in for a 20 minute power
nap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed the only way I could
possibly get my speed back enough to get to 130.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stumble into the RV, set my alarm and sleep
hard for 20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t take off
my shoes, socks, or anything – just fell on the bed and was out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as the alarm went off, I was out the
door and back on the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
6:42.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had 2 hours and 18 minutes to go
5 miles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite my not being sure at the time that I’d be able to
get up again, that nap was probably a goal saver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back out on the course, I felt rested again
and started picking up my run walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was back to 18 minute miles, and pounded out another 3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2 miles to go to get to 230.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going to make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My run went away, but it didn’t matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going to make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lap 229, I am power walking, I am moving through pain and
exhaustion and what I feel is impossible to describe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pass Stephen and start sobbing, out of
elation and pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I am SO.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>FUCKING.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>TIRED.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am laughing and crying
at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He know it’s OK, and
keeps me going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The sobbing stops, though the tears keep streaming for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are very happy tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is over
an hour on the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just take it
easy and enjoy it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I poke my head in the
RV asking Dave to be there at the finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I grab my phone and start calling and texting people on my way
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I call my buddy Ed Rudman –
because he gets it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I call my mom, who
asks “Are you OK?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your voice sounds
wavery”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is so very funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I call my sister in law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then there is a quarter of a mile to go…
it is almost over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see the finish and
I start my last bit of run up the hill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I cross the timing mat, and Dave is there taking pictures, and I am
done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thanks and special moments:</span></h3>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">I'm hoping I don't forget anyone here, but I'm sure I will. Thanks to Rick and Jenn McNulty for putting on a class race with great volunteers, a lovely course, good amenities, and fabulous swag, causing lots of the same great folks to come back year after year. Thanks to the volunteers - particularly Eliza, Adam, Francis Kwok and Helen Clark.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">My undying gratitude and love to Dave Christy who made the trek from Alabama and put up with my OCD for almost a week to get me to my goal.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">To Bill Schultz, who made countless trips to the grocery store to meet my thirst whims. And who can do a sports massage like nobody's business.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">To Linda Kenny, to Ray ("Ray of Sunshine") whose last name I don't know, to Darlene Kresse and Annabel Hepworth, to Pablo Espinosa, Phil Ebert, Suzanne Wightman, Bill Gentry, Fred Murolo, Robert Kootz ("son"), Pete Kostelnick, and John Fegyveresi, all of whom gave me cheerful words of encouragement out on the course. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">To Stephen Bandfield for being there when I cried.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span> </div>
<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Postscript</span></h3>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I just signed up for my first 6 day race at Across the Years in Phoenix. Stay tuned...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span> </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-jghLPajjEt2SFGqC3e94QicLR7PDAun3fZKmxo0Xe97f8YY0Volsv0lbdxXQM0Mnhr7H-wOOLJ7FqUsrmfQicxVlShyqRx6imBF4dlrF-mdgp_yyyPFHQxjKzcpdz8PN9XmLZhGAUk/s1600/IMG_1164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1281" data-original-width="1600" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-jghLPajjEt2SFGqC3e94QicLR7PDAun3fZKmxo0Xe97f8YY0Volsv0lbdxXQM0Mnhr7H-wOOLJ7FqUsrmfQicxVlShyqRx6imBF4dlrF-mdgp_yyyPFHQxjKzcpdz8PN9XmLZhGAUk/s320/IMG_1164.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting my award from RD Rick McNulty<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFqd11yfnYTejJnaBN7APJYqSAUBMMTsB_Ubqzp1T2tdHfCulHlDRWF7yrWg8Qwb3MHIs0TLcKeEypbQPVeYZaDVQlNvwAnA70kzxiHTBOFsEZjlX_DBDXBaNCW_FwlNPh_pSnFXvaMU/s1600/IMG_1122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFqd11yfnYTejJnaBN7APJYqSAUBMMTsB_Ubqzp1T2tdHfCulHlDRWF7yrWg8Qwb3MHIs0TLcKeEypbQPVeYZaDVQlNvwAnA70kzxiHTBOFsEZjlX_DBDXBaNCW_FwlNPh_pSnFXvaMU/s320/IMG_1122.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, with the gracious Ms. Eliza Hamm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvckZ4MoXcFntbxAywTe0pUfgElNB4P32vrxKTAyzGA5SFuTFLLO7qVrOrLpbT6CmYz7zyEA91qtQa_Bc95rP0EGJIsy7QSnpXuGgDC8yt9e2O3H5D2R7fBIrzO2YP8KmrFFq3ktHUQY/s1600/IMG_1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvckZ4MoXcFntbxAywTe0pUfgElNB4P32vrxKTAyzGA5SFuTFLLO7qVrOrLpbT6CmYz7zyEA91qtQa_Bc95rP0EGJIsy7QSnpXuGgDC8yt9e2O3H5D2R7fBIrzO2YP8KmrFFq3ktHUQY/s320/IMG_1125.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Adam Schalit, RD and volunteer extraordinaire<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5Oxc3H-SrwcEki5DAGAV2d0FF-87Wtoqt3ozwM6B36hfC-yhXuzKgktt0vaicV4nzoRNIU26ljcEzZ7vxxTNls5UpbvK-7-iblIQHRjHA25P5lSltRoO56iospEQrVgoe-JE7AmdKoY/s1600/IMG_1142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5Oxc3H-SrwcEki5DAGAV2d0FF-87Wtoqt3ozwM6B36hfC-yhXuzKgktt0vaicV4nzoRNIU26ljcEzZ7vxxTNls5UpbvK-7-iblIQHRjHA25P5lSltRoO56iospEQrVgoe-JE7AmdKoY/s400/IMG_1142.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my pal Helen Clark. She calls me "baby". I love that.<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgybe41wH1429CSrRq3UDNbF1dwDo1HZFVLg0HXENpqp0W3OcgcqJzk1P1ErL-NN4rXRjrsSZKRS2E3zVkPMPg4Kq4MbcmDriG3xbUHwZje94Io4PggrTR4UBv59sxMabB-35zNQD8R0/s1600/IMG_1144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgybe41wH1429CSrRq3UDNbF1dwDo1HZFVLg0HXENpqp0W3OcgcqJzk1P1ErL-NN4rXRjrsSZKRS2E3zVkPMPg4Kq4MbcmDriG3xbUHwZje94Io4PggrTR4UBv59sxMabB-35zNQD8R0/s200/IMG_1144.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Xhk1gXHHNdwQ9aXEZig0-O6XBYarZAYF0uK1Brccac0DXmlLw-VHzbBwpVa3pjaXxghjbiqIz760UNsbC_eMVlkWoGq73yVub2YvUoXrMPFtxobAv8JIhZWzt92Hwo8e0aPunPrGYTI/s1600/IMG_1148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Xhk1gXHHNdwQ9aXEZig0-O6XBYarZAYF0uK1Brccac0DXmlLw-VHzbBwpVa3pjaXxghjbiqIz760UNsbC_eMVlkWoGq73yVub2YvUoXrMPFtxobAv8JIhZWzt92Hwo8e0aPunPrGYTI/s200/IMG_1148.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coin for 100 miles on course</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88bS9QFut7_mV0RINqZQd8RU538cWSZelxsA4BtPH2QDXw0LlGVL6FG97VOifj8SjNXnSSx7KXrDimB3scepjvGK0RLVQMsl8LyhzOXAhfK7Y8BgTO2qilCuYGVitHrzXMbkS-Z2t-fI/s1600/IMG_1146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88bS9QFut7_mV0RINqZQd8RU538cWSZelxsA4BtPH2QDXw0LlGVL6FG97VOifj8SjNXnSSx7KXrDimB3scepjvGK0RLVQMsl8LyhzOXAhfK7Y8BgTO2qilCuYGVitHrzXMbkS-Z2t-fI/s200/IMG_1146.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">200 mile buckle<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyYnOJM8WanOcYikYUTLHt5j3OyYDPyXhUw2Oe9tFqnD7dn5PVz8yWKAejeWoWA4O3VSIHgvUE1AP2MsO01ujzya7A-T_G03LToBY8F3BYWmgnyvwV7z7if9-caSGs8C9q9-Gk0bva-UQ/s1600/IMG_1143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyYnOJM8WanOcYikYUTLHt5j3OyYDPyXhUw2Oe9tFqnD7dn5PVz8yWKAejeWoWA4O3VSIHgvUE1AP2MsO01ujzya7A-T_G03LToBY8F3BYWmgnyvwV7z7if9-caSGs8C9q9-Gk0bva-UQ/s320/IMG_1143.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My amazing trophy, hand made by "Super" Dave Lettieri</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGaMemPHYQ490gHHSwf9DVsaZObNI7erAnXolob-IOEQIgmjJ4vjtCRpVwG7TFCrxampvGwhUs-OP0hzVRx3DW2sG0QuTx6dQySFYX0OHlPTGkA_ngKTULDhEhEU_ButLkdVV7PgH1Fo/s1600/IMG_1160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGaMemPHYQ490gHHSwf9DVsaZObNI7erAnXolob-IOEQIgmjJ4vjtCRpVwG7TFCrxampvGwhUs-OP0hzVRx3DW2sG0QuTx6dQySFYX0OHlPTGkA_ngKTULDhEhEU_ButLkdVV7PgH1Fo/s320/IMG_1160.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crew member extraordinaire - Dave Christy</td></tr>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-68505073140796765422018-01-04T13:52:00.002-08:002018-01-04T13:52:38.766-08:00Running Across The Years - my first 72<div dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1515099872956_8459">
72 hours. Is a long time.</div>
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I originally planned to do my first 72 hour “multi-day” race at the 3 Days at the Fair event in May. After putting my money down, my daughter informed me that her college graduation fell smack in the middle. So… I crewed a friend at 3DATF and signed up for 48 hours at ARFTA, figuring I’d do a 3 day in 2018.</div>
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Somewhere around early November, after hearing about ATY for the umpteenth time from someone who will remain unmentioned (you know who you are!!!), I decide spur of the moment that this will be my 72. Within hours I am signed up. </div>
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I don’t have a whole lot of time to get nervous or antsy as,until 12/17, I am busy planning my daughter’s wedding. Then… Christmas. So, it isn’t until about 12/26 that I start getting that pre-race “oh my god what have I done to myself” feeling that starts in the pit of my stomach and hangs out somewhere in the middle of my back that results in my shoulders getting tight and my brain feeling squeezed. </div>
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I am scheduled to be in the 12/29 start (for those not in the know, the Across the Years race is a 6 day event that started on 12/28 and ended on 1/3. The other events include 72 hours, with starters on any of the first 4 days of the overall event, 48 hours, with starters on any of the first 5 days of the event, and 24 hours – which could start day 1 through 6. The event is at Camelback Ranch – spring training camp for the Dodgers and White Sox in Glendale, Arizona). </div>
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My travel is uneventful and I arrive in Phoenix around noon on 12/28. Bill picks me up and we head out to the course to hang out. As the start approaches, I feel myself getting quieter and quieter, folding inwards upon myself; I’m pretty much in almost complete denial now that in about 18 hours, I will be running for 3 days. </div>
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Bill takes me on a tour around the course and I am almost stunned by the beauty of this desert landscape. I’ve been told about the running surface – it is essentially a clay/dirt path with little tiny pebbles mixed in just for fun. There is one section that is pure crushed gravel which, walking through it for practice, reminds me of one of those little kid houses that are filled with all of the little balls. Or like walking through sand. Which is to say… it takes a lot of energy to traverse that little gravel section. (Later there will be swearing.)</div>
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I take my pictures now, because I know I won’t be doing it later. In some ways, the pre-race course walk is reassuring. I see runners I know, and I get to give them big bear hugs. Ken Arble… Bob Davidson… Mike Melton, timing the course. I see runners I’ve only heard about… Yolanda, the walking Diva. I spy Liz Bauer, who kicked my ultra ass at ARFTA, out there doing her thing the way she does it so well, and Andre Nana, running strong in his 24 hour. And I see folks out here who are not necessarily out to kick butt, but just to see what they can do in 6 days. I see a lot of joyous people.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGdEfpQvbX6iZWZQF322o3ghxdwkKJ9MVpKTC9auvf6y5MZpnfInLwkxRtp40q-oqlaaKk52sFccMvnT5uSFT25XrRopH0Gqtdy_4Soc4OPmIdJjlNmgsYv7bZFkXsx8FUzD_z3sFKkA/s1600/AmyAndKen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGdEfpQvbX6iZWZQF322o3ghxdwkKJ9MVpKTC9auvf6y5MZpnfInLwkxRtp40q-oqlaaKk52sFccMvnT5uSFT25XrRopH0Gqtdy_4Soc4OPmIdJjlNmgsYv7bZFkXsx8FUzD_z3sFKkA/s320/AmyAndKen.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging with my buddy Ken</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEq83I8_C56Ik4CMmiPWQI9x4TYFFH5yVdXjK44rJBlujKEX6XjIFK052Av54v-7Je01GTSzabO93-MAAIqV6nMyiccvxUDBApYWyekgNvIK2V6mUxLku8cBmi2P1TtFECB11cdnN4Ac/s1600/Course+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEq83I8_C56Ik4CMmiPWQI9x4TYFFH5yVdXjK44rJBlujKEX6XjIFK052Av54v-7Je01GTSzabO93-MAAIqV6nMyiccvxUDBApYWyekgNvIK2V6mUxLku8cBmi2P1TtFECB11cdnN4Ac/s320/Course+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha20cgyFPRmM48XOtieCiHPCdqc8T5L8mz7ZcPmzFUcU6RZOwzYeiL_xGO96dbnlavOWFRhub_ipnhHkme8GwCTDlg1XNOYd3WH4DI_lyGlKuOpI2ZiGc0nuVL2Io0RyHnzID_W1Nj3Co/s1600/Course+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha20cgyFPRmM48XOtieCiHPCdqc8T5L8mz7ZcPmzFUcU6RZOwzYeiL_xGO96dbnlavOWFRhub_ipnhHkme8GwCTDlg1XNOYd3WH4DI_lyGlKuOpI2ZiGc0nuVL2Io0RyHnzID_W1Nj3Co/s320/Course+4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ww7CpYU78jx4kn6UDyBzGMCgHRUJNfUAQposTD6F95ozUiC3KEhoDoJ1JN3rHOicxhsA8nYavknZGsy27LeXrc6g4BM95w8ctXV-Q1OgMXl3u9XmcMyXQqA0FbyHUyJWUgmbqQK8KNU/s1600/Course+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ww7CpYU78jx4kn6UDyBzGMCgHRUJNfUAQposTD6F95ozUiC3KEhoDoJ1JN3rHOicxhsA8nYavknZGsy27LeXrc6g4BM95w8ctXV-Q1OgMXl3u9XmcMyXQqA0FbyHUyJWUgmbqQK8KNU/s320/Course+6.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2ChT7l74TM8Sp5Ke5_FI9nALda3D58BoZ0SgCI-hRXBZj-fkGcx1scqY516kVHEs1LqqwgT2PeTQsOoMGWqOqMOaCgq-cSysDbjbLoCAL4sLkOzXSP6E0tFldJUrUqQvjyl8Wb1RZN8/s1600/Course+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2ChT7l74TM8Sp5Ke5_FI9nALda3D58BoZ0SgCI-hRXBZj-fkGcx1scqY516kVHEs1LqqwgT2PeTQsOoMGWqOqMOaCgq-cSysDbjbLoCAL4sLkOzXSP6E0tFldJUrUqQvjyl8Wb1RZN8/s320/Course+8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I’d worn a short skirt and flip flops in the heat of the day. Bill had warned me about the cold at night, and as the sun starts to get low in the sky around 5, I can feel the chill already. It is time to leave the course, get some food, and get race ready.</div>
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I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a great dinner companion. And then, back to my hotel room for an early sleep.</div>
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<strong>Game Day</strong></div>
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I wake before 6, which gives me plenty of sleep due to the time change. Thankfully, I haven’t generally been having issues sleeping prior to races. There is a pretty acceptable breakfast at the hotel, despite having to fight the instomatic pancake maker for a bit. I manage to avoid overeating, and we head over to the race grounds. I am completely quiet. I am completely inside myself.</div>
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It is, by the way, still cold. Just prior to 9:00, I’m dressed warmly but prepared to strip down. Shorts underneath, running pants on top. Tank top, with arm warmers, and fleece over the top. Gloves and hat.</div>
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Mike Melton gives his usual pre-race speech – warning runners that he needs to know if any of us plan on doing sub 5 minute laps (HA!) as the timing mat is set to ignore laps under 5 minutes.</div>
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It is time. 9:00 has arrived and we head over the timing mat and straight into the next 72 hours. As per usual, I drop almost instantly to the back of the pack. The rest of the runners look peppy and fast – they are bounding along with perky steps. I am not bounding. Generally these days it takes me about 10 miles to warm up, and I am nothing close to warmed up. The first mile… hell, the first 5, are always hard, because I’m always almost dead last in whatever pack of runners I start out with. It is the time during the race when I ask myself what the hell I’m doing here – who am I kidding… I’m clearly NOT a runner. Not like those fast folks, striding comfortably, with confidence.</div>
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It warms up quickly and by lap 3 I’ve pulled off my pants…. Shortly thereafter, the arm warmers come off, and not too long after that, the sunscreen goes on. I’m dressed now for a warm day, and things are feeling better, and running is coming easier. There is a little part of me that thinks I might just be a runner.</div>
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Hours later. We are well into the heat of the day. The other fast folks have slowed down… some to a walk. They look hot… tired. An intrepid few are still running with strength. Me? I’m in my groove now. I’ve been doing steady 11-12’s for hours now, and I know I can keep this up for a long time. Bill tells me I’m going WAY too fast. I tell him I really can’t go much slower without it being uncomfortable. He lets me do my thing.</div>
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5:00 ish and night is starting to fall. It gets cold fast, as Bill said it would. The cold weather clothes go on, and I keep chugging along. It is night for a while. I run pretty much all through it. I’m dressed correctly for the cold, and I’m never really uncomfortable. My goal for this race, BTW, is 200 – to get the 200 mile buckle. My pacing plan was 80 day 1, 70 day 2, 50 day 3. I hit 80 well before the 24 hour mark, and take a rest – I am down for an hour but there is almost zero sleep. Getting up in the cold and going back out there is rough. I stumble into the night and get going again. I end the first 24 hours with 95 miles. </div>
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</div>
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Heading into Day 2 my goal is to reach 160 miles – same mileage I achieved at ARFTA in 48 hours, which would give me only 40 I have to manage on day 3 to get my buckle. This seems achievable, but day 2 the miles don’t come as easy. There is more walk, less run. </div>
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</div>
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Can’t let this race report go without talking about “the turn”. Every 4 hours, runners got to turn and run in the opposite direction. This was one of the more social and fun parts of the event, as all of the timing monkeys (Mike, Bill, and the runner volunteers) danced us around a cone and pointed us in the opposite direction. Great music played, and it was almost a contest as to which runner could pull of the turn with the most pizzazz. The other cool thing about the turn is that it let you face the folks you were running with for a lap, rather than just looking at their backsides. There were lots of “hey!’s”, and handslapping on the turn laps.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxyT_BmCmKZO5Rglebk5InHc0uEfNmcFncvIh8xm2EUzxl4A7DCQLkpD_pOJq4fNzN2FOm0TM1nNoQCB-_CqLGqEcQLwM74rjrryxjJwjQumXKfUDL_Fu-Yb5ygX_FzNj_A-4BZgOCNs/s1600/TurnDance1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxyT_BmCmKZO5Rglebk5InHc0uEfNmcFncvIh8xm2EUzxl4A7DCQLkpD_pOJq4fNzN2FOm0TM1nNoQCB-_CqLGqEcQLwM74rjrryxjJwjQumXKfUDL_Fu-Yb5ygX_FzNj_A-4BZgOCNs/s320/TurnDance1.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doin' the Turn Dance</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqWkKIrpCipDD-kqxhb-66WwRTajxzbX9odp90_QhGbnEyusiVOVxMzGl4xzFCcxAui2R9FTWdRdUQfUOaYUjpweP3iOZ75uavEvaKteA1LTv9ni7QfLCGIanrFolLWAO8ssqMXheYaA/s1600/TurnDance2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqWkKIrpCipDD-kqxhb-66WwRTajxzbX9odp90_QhGbnEyusiVOVxMzGl4xzFCcxAui2R9FTWdRdUQfUOaYUjpweP3iOZ75uavEvaKteA1LTv9ni7QfLCGIanrFolLWAO8ssqMXheYaA/s320/TurnDance2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br /> </div>
<div dir="ltr">
Night 2 comes. The warmer clothes go on again. I keep up my shuffle. The night is, pretty much, a blur. Somewhere night turns into a stunning sunrise. I make it just a little past my goal of 160… get 161 and change, and head to my 48 hour rest knowing I only have 39 miles to go for that buckle. I realize I only (only!!!) have 24 hours to go after my rest. Which is, what, 40 minutes? An hour? Whatever it is, it’s not enough. This time, at least, there was sleep, in addition to an opportunity to rest my feet.</div>
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Morning 3. I pull myself out on to the course and head out. Probably due to the great food at the aid station, and how much of it I was able to take in, for something like 7-8 laps, I lose a good 2 minutes each lap at bathroom stops. I started worrying a little bit about dehydration, given the number of potty stops. Still – I was pretty upbeat. In my head I just figured I had 13 hours to go, if I kept up 20 minute laps. Sounds easy, right? Sure… except, shortly after the bathroom debacle, I pretty much lose my run entirely. I’m on day 3 and it is now a walk. Which is not nearly (for me) as much fun, but does have the side advantage of reducing bathroom stops since, now that I’m walking, my gut has calmed down. I don’t have any doubt that I will hit my goal of 200, but as the day progresses and I need more rest breaks, I do start having doubts that I’ll hit it as quickly as I was hoping. At some point in the morning I call my mother, because, well, why not – I can. I’m just walking.</div>
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Walking.</div>
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</div>
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Walking some more.</div>
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</div>
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Walking slower.</div>
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</div>
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Slower than 20 minute miles.</div>
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</div>
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DAMN it!</div>
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</div>
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It will not be 13 hours until I hit 200. If I’m lucky, maybe 15? 16? I realize somewhat to my horror that night is about to fall. Again. And it is getting cold. Again. And this time there is no freakin’ way I will get by with the clothes I wore for nights 1 and 2… because I’m not moving fast enough to keep warm in just the running jacket. On goes my fleece, my winter parka, my hat, my mittens. I ditch my water belt because frankly at 22 minute miles I don’t need it. I had ditched my phone and music ages ago. </div>
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</div>
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There is a fantasy in my head. It is a strong fantasy. I can taste it. It is this: I hit 201 miles (which should not only get me my buckle, but the female win). It is somewhere around 1:00am. I call an Uber (they have them here – I checked). I head to the nearest hotel (2.4 miles away… I checked). I stand under a deliciously warm shower and let the grime flow off of my battered body. I soak my feet. (oh, yes.) And then (oh, oh yes… this…) I climb into a great big tall fluffy bed. With white sheets. Which I can get into, because I’m clean now. Oh my, this is all I want to do in the world. </div>
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</div>
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Somewhere along the course, Shamus says to me “You’re not stopping at 200, are you?” And I say “You bet your effing ass I’m stopping!!!” </div>
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</div>
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“Awwwww Noooo!, You can’t!!!” he says.</div>
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DAMNIT TO HELL Shamus… Ah, damn.</div>
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</div>
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My hotel…</div>
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</div>
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My Uber ride, and my beautiful, beautiful fluffy white sheets.</div>
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</div>
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Disappearing into a puff of this dusty desert surface, like the cloud of muck that hovers around PigPen in the Peanuts cartoon.</div>
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</div>
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OK. I’ll keep going. I’ll hit 200, I’ll rest, and then… I’ll do what I can.</div>
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</div>
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I spend some wonderful miles with Sunny Kim on this section and her conversation and cheerfulness moves me forward.</div>
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</div>
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12 miles before 200 I am swaying and stumbling around the course. I find myself falling asleep on the only porcelain potty on the course. As much as I wanted to hit 200 before sleep, it is clear that this is not the best strategy.</div>
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</div>
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Down for another nap. I tell Bill to check in on me after 90 minutes.</div>
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</div>
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This time I sleep, and sleep hard. The 90 minutes goes fast… way too fast. Bill opens the tent… “You have to get up”. </div>
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</div>
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“No. Just another hour”.</div>
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</div>
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“There’s a guy… he’s creeping up on your lead. You’ve gotta get up.”</div>
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</div>
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“DAMN IT!”</div>
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</div>
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I sit up, bleary eyed. Pull on my shoes. Again. It is cold (so cold). Colder, because my clothing under my coat is now damp from sleeping in the warm tent. Pull on my gloves. Pull on my hat. Open the tent flap and head out into the dust to start trudging. I stop for a cup of coffee. It is, I don’t know, 2:30am?</div>
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</div>
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My steps start to pick up and I realize the nap has, in fact, revived my pace. I pass through the timing lap and Bill says “23 minute miles aren’t gonna cut it. His last lap was 11.” </div>
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</div>
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11?</div>
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</div>
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ELEVEN?</div>
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</div>
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I tell Bill “Forget it – there’s no way. I can’t do 11. It’s over”.</div>
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</div>
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He says “You don’t have to do 11. He’s 15 laps behind you… You just need to keep him from catching up.”</div>
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</div>
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I pick up my step and walk more briskly, with purpose now. I sigh. Deeply. </div>
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</div>
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Fuck.</div>
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</div>
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Can I? There’s no way. Can I?</div>
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</div>
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I start to run. Bundled up in my winter parka, not remotely dressed for running, I start to run. </div>
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</div>
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And run.</div>
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And run.</div>
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</div>
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Walk every hill… run every flat and down.</div>
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</div>
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I am working up a sweat now in my parka. 30 feet from the timing tent and I see Bill and yell to him that I am going to need my water belt and my headphones. That lap was not 23 minutes. It was 16:30. Bill nods his head and smiles, thumbs up. The lap after that was 15:30. It feel smooth and steady. I adjust my body temperature by unzipping and re-zipping my jacket… taking off and donning my gloves and hat. I have Gatorade now, so I can drink and keep moving. Lap 3 post nap, I put on my headphones. Once the music comes on, my laps start steadily dropping into the 14’s and 15’s. Somewhere around mile 208, I see another runner actually running the course. I eye him warily. He eyes me back. </div>
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</div>
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“Are you Amy?” he asks?</div>
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</div>
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“Yeah – are you Brandon?”</div>
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</div>
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“Yeah.”</div>
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</div>
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“I’m fighting you…”</div>
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</div>
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“I know it,” he says. </div>
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</div>
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We run together for a short period of time, then he pulls ahead at the stop where I take my walk break. This has suddenly become incredibly exciting and fun. We run and run for the next 3 ½ hours.</div>
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</div>
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By 7:45 am, I do the math. There is 1:15 left on the clock. I am still 7 laps ahead of Brandon. I could stop now and have the win. I keep running. There is time now for a pic or 2 on the course.</div>
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</div>
<div dir="ltr">
8:15 – 45 minutes left. Brandon’s race is done. I’m not quite sure which mile I’m on, but I decide if it’s 219, I’ll do one more to get the round number. If it’s 220, I’m done.</div>
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</div>
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It’s 220. I pull into the timing tent and hand my timing chip to Mike Melton.</div>
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</div>
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“There’s 45 minutes left on the clock!” he says.</div>
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</div>
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“Yeah. But I REALLY want a shower.”</div>
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</div>
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I’m done.</div>
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</div>
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<strong>Post Race notes:</strong></div>
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</div>
<div dir="ltr">
So – things I didn’t mention elsewhere. Food – was fabulous. The aid was not to be believed – tasty and easy to digest meals every 3-4 hours, and snacks and beverages around the clock. At one point there were volunteers with trays of sushi. I remember with particular fondness the fried egg sandwiches, refried bean roll-ups, turkey and cheese roll-ups, pizza, pancakes, French toast, and pasta with meat sauce.</div>
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</div>
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Bathrooms – there were MANY. This is an excellent thing for runners such as myself who are known to need one RIGHTNOWRIGHTTHISVERYMINUTE. I’ve been on other courses with only 1 potty during a one mile loop. That is not enough. This course had many, and they were the cleanest porto potties I’ve ever seen. And they had lights. And deodorizers. Kudos to Aravaipa.</div>
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</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Swag. Aravaipa has the coolest logos and swag available. Bar none.</div>
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</div>
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Dust. Lots of it. It gets in your shoes (quickly). Gators are in order. And they don’t eliminate the problem – they just help. But pretty much one lap around the course and you are covered. 3 days on the course and you are pretty sure it is burned into your skin forever.</div>
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</div>
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Beauty. Lots of it. This is perhaps the most beautiful course I’ve ever run on.</div>
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</div>
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FUN! Lots of it. Jubilee – coolest RD ever. Mike Melton and the dancing Timing Monkeys. Most fun you will ever have every 4 hours of a 72 hour race. Plus there are folks who dress in costume for 19th century pedestrianism. </div>
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</div>
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Curves – Lots of them. Watch your tangents.</div>
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</div>
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I’m thinking I’ll be back. And next year I won’t give up that last 45 minutes…</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW5Suhi9fpWI8-RU7hrKPJQxT2-O0aGHeHWTNbnrsYb1BnVjijZvxw4TUWoCz5MxA7vZJ6hX0FV6489rIMgpEhRQ07jZOpLswHMLbHqJ-AJvqPzfjXYFrWGjYETkiuF2TSwR1sL8B6VAI/s1600/TurnDance2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3O16e71fM7SZcwDxL52xpJ0VVUhblULt6ALTPKB3mGdx7TSKTUNXlOzRF-EDMfBpsIRVxE6VHRtXuqALfcoSGRjrF7kuiT0H9nQhrv3nuSVeNieqRlpQ2vxvRP4_adp92Siw3h_vLF2w/s1600/Buckle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3O16e71fM7SZcwDxL52xpJ0VVUhblULt6ALTPKB3mGdx7TSKTUNXlOzRF-EDMfBpsIRVxE6VHRtXuqALfcoSGRjrF7kuiT0H9nQhrv3nuSVeNieqRlpQ2vxvRP4_adp92Siw3h_vLF2w/s320/Buckle.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting my buckle - this is what I wore for 18 miles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyKSg64i-8PhXrpHinDQfL_IDyv4eLwidQ4WGE9sGeMAPnZPBib-CoEW_Hk4V2-3cP9ew2z41rRL3clvVSKR1VdvDvadkEIsVdpGKv7esnuSbcqw1h2utG2H15KkK9rR9whBcSsbAb_g/s1600/PIcWithChris.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyKSg64i-8PhXrpHinDQfL_IDyv4eLwidQ4WGE9sGeMAPnZPBib-CoEW_Hk4V2-3cP9ew2z41rRL3clvVSKR1VdvDvadkEIsVdpGKv7esnuSbcqw1h2utG2H15KkK9rR9whBcSsbAb_g/s320/PIcWithChris.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott ("Brandon") - who kicked me into gear the last 18</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVaHT21LqnUzev3ftTctAnlryLy27qVdI4f7XR8OaJpRAvCa11aK8Frcsjc_znVLuV2vuaHgXSogSu2NMIxx99ySTy8s_73SBkXUmLGWX3SDpoTcx__8JR_Ox67kl00LTnicaJ7t0V0Zk/s1600/AmyAndKen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
</div>
Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-34114889784670424152017-07-26T17:38:00.001-07:002017-07-27T06:11:33.627-07:00Candlelight 12 Hour 2017 - 12 Hours of Kicking Grass<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Why do I do this” I
asked myself on Saturday morning when I got up. I had a 6 hour drive
ahead of me, to Rochester NY to run a 12 hour night race – the Candlelight 12
Hour. At 7 am the idea of starting a run at 7pm and running through the
night held zero appeal and not a little bit of dread. Every big race
holds both for me – the “why do I do this” question is not a new one, but a
night race is a special kind of bad because I have all day to contemplate
what’s ahead of me. I had some added pressure with this one, that I’d
added myself – which was, I really wanted to do well. Well, I wanted to
win. And with the training I’ve been doing, I thought that there was a
possibility it could happen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If anyone scrolls back
in time in my blog, you’ll see that I did this race last year, in its inaugural
year, but I did it as my last long training run before my first 100 miler.
So, I didn’t really race it, per se, but rather ran for 35 miles before
stopping to volunteer and then get in some final walk miles. This year I had every intention of racing it.
I’ve had a couple of really solid races this year already with Winter
Beast of Burden 100 and Dawn to Dusk to Dawn 24 hour, but I thought that this
might just be my “A” race of the year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many many many things
have changed in my life since last year's race. I've run 4 races over 100
miles. I've gotten divorced, moved from upstate</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> NY to the DC area,
and started a new job. I've begun a new relationship... That last
one actual had a direct impact on today's race, because unlike any race I've
done before - I brought company. My boyfriend Tony had originally planned
to just accompany me to the race and crew, but upon hearing that walking was
possible, he signed up to just test himself and see how many miles he could do. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was really great to
have company on the drive up to the race because it allowed me to get my mind
off my pre-race angst. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Which lead to the
initial question... "Why do I do this?". <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite an incredibly
solid coupe of months of training, as the race approaches I just start feeling
a greater and greater sense of dread. I feel like I am stiff and slow and
fat and like I don't know how to run. Who am I kidding, calling myself
a runner? And just what the HELL am I thinking, with regarding to
doing it for TWELVE HOURS?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As we get within an hour
of the race venue I get quieter and quieter. Something needs to be done
to find my inner runner. Tony gives me permission to take over the
stereo, so I hook up my phone and pull out my "Running Fast"
playlist. I blast it, lean my head back into the seat and close my eyes.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
sometimes I get a good feeling, yeah...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I get a feeling that I
never never neer never had before, no no...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Woke up on the side of
the bed like I won<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Talk like a winner, my
chest to that sun...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And just like that...
I'm starting to find my inner runner. Good. This is good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It is even better when
we arrive and start to see people I know. I had told Tony what an amazing
community this is.... the intense friendliness of the people, their passion,
their stories and journeys. I was so happy that the first of my ultra
friends for him to meet were Bill and Wanda Schubmehl - some of my very
favorite New York peeps with their spirituality, pragmatism and dedication -
not to mention some beautiful writing styles. They'd been here last year
and figured into that experience as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We arrived in plenty of
time to set up our tent and our gear... I said hello to everyone I
recognized - Dave Farrands and Dave Weiss, Mike Valone, Gary and Katherine, Lauren Idzik,
Gil... One of the folks I was missing intensely was my friend Patrick,
who had been one of my early running mentors and a fellow runner during the
inaugural run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Soon enough it was 7 pm
and time to start. I've had enough ultra starts that the low key nature
of it didn't faze me. Gil said his opening piece, the clock counted down,
and it was time to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I started out easy -
Bill Schultz' voice in my head with his words of wisdom about pacing. It
is hard to start out easy - especially when all of the faster runners bolt out
and immediately start pulling ahead. I need to do some self talk at this
point to assure myself that the key to running strong later is to run slow and
steady now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am thrilled to find
that nothing hurts. As I've racked up my 100 plus mile weeks over the
past couple of months, my glutes and hamstrings have been horribly tight and
prone to painful pulls. It seemed, though, that the gentle rolling uneven
grassy terrain was a balm to those muscles that had faced repetitive motion on
my asphalt training because everything loosened up nicely. Sooner than I
expected, I found myself in the zone. Which is... not only was I running,
but I found my inner runner. I knew I could do this thing. The joy
was starting to come, as it almost always does as I start knocking off miles.
My head perfectly in tune with my body - this clump of grass, that hill,
slow down just enough to keep the same level of effort... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqFxV_ySweGPsECZdx-KtfLIkL2l_lyxDCkCrMoo6u2ovqi2-XqPyel4ItjXiel8EY1HqVN4yw5kbat-hXSClieUt4HN3R7UOIqf_jYeMFRZDNSAn62eSoc-dD1In7fsgMsCgpys-bEY/s1600/20170722_194457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="923" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqFxV_ySweGPsECZdx-KtfLIkL2l_lyxDCkCrMoo6u2ovqi2-XqPyel4ItjXiel8EY1HqVN4yw5kbat-hXSClieUt4HN3R7UOIqf_jYeMFRZDNSAn62eSoc-dD1In7fsgMsCgpys-bEY/s320/20170722_194457.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then... as I
turned up the asphalt section, a few miles in, I hear someone call my name and
it's Pat McHenry and his wife Karen. Pat was here! And he was
cheering for me and taking pictures and all of a sudden my whole world got even
a little bit brighter - as it does when the ultrarunners you really care about
show their support. I'm pretty sure I sped up just a little bit then, and
never stopped. (Thanks Pat!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last year I had run the
tough hill towards the end of the loop for probably about half my laps before
starting to walk it. I decided this year to just run it until I couldn't.
So here is this thing about me and hills... I know a lot of people have
the strategy of not "burning their matches" out on the hill - but for
me I think hills almost give me energy. As long as I run the hill slow
enough that my effort is pretty similar to the flat, I get a burst of energy as
I crest it, and all of a sudden I'm faster. So... that's what I did.
Turns out.. for the whole race. I never did end up walking that
hill - even when it turned into a veritible mud fest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ah - the mud. So -
there was the mud on that hill, and then right after the first grassy downhill
stretch. Both sections were so bad that you really had to be careful not
to lose your shoes OR go down in the mud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This year's race was
significantly cooler than last year's, which started out at about 88 degrees.
It was humid, but not hot, and I found myself perfectly comfortable with
regard to temperature the whole time. The one technical problem I was
having was with my Garmin - somehow water had gotten inside it, and it was all
fogged up. This was really pissing me off because I couldn't get a good
sense of my lap pace. I realized later on, though, that it was, perhaps,
a blessing in disguise. By not watching the Garmin, I allowed my body
rather than my head to dictate my "run forever" pace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dusk turned into evening
and it was time to don the headlamp. As one other runner has already
mentioned, it was bug city as soon as that light went on. Never in my
life have I had so many bugs in my eyes, my hair and my mouth! Protein...
It did seem to get better as the night wore on. This was a new playlist
which I had created with Tony on one of our first long drives together, so it
had a lot of meaning to me. There were quite a few Avette Brothers songs,
Sophie B Hawkins, Rickie Lee Jones, Suzanne Vega, Kate Bush, Bic Runga - and
lots of other mellow. I moved in and out of the music,running, running,
running.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was thrilled at how
smooth and even my running felt. I focused on form and cadence, and just
kept letting my body dictate my pace. Early on when I passed the timing
board I was discouraged to see that I was in 26th place. As time wore on,
the numbers ticked down... 19th place... 14th place... 11.... 9.
There came a point about 7 hours in when I was in 7th place trying to
move into 6th and I snagged Gil to ask him if he knew how many women were in
front of me. "Yes" he said. "Well how many?" I
asked. "None." he replied. None. NONE! I was
the lead woman with 5 hours left to race. This was a brand new thing for me and
I have to say it put some spring into my step. Now just to maintain
steady for another 5 hours. Which, at this point, I had no doubt that I
could do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was special seeing
Tony out there, going and going. I'd run into him maybe once or twice an
hour - either passing him or coming in opposite directions on the figure 8
loop. He was walking strong and steady. I also was happy whenever I
passed folks I knew... Benn Griffin, Wanda and Bill, Vickey - who became
familiar but whose name I didn't learn until the end... Amy Lord, Karen Markus,
Tom Butler.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My goal for mileage was
60. I found enough energy to sprint to the finish with 59.92 and was thrilled and grateful to be the female winner of the race and
third overall. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I also want to thank Gil for yet another beautiful and perfectly run race - he's one of the best!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ35R7vilPMmBTWvdgiDmn4KLUqIe5E7-WIo1xESNyBityCfyz_D3rUh-27p_F7CRp8NHxV-dgBnuB_YLxdZjbpF6Q44FhLatIu8ZPwMYF9qg_Br1M-BOPrNZXu8580NyGqfpNehJg6qg/s1600/Race+Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="722" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ35R7vilPMmBTWvdgiDmn4KLUqIe5E7-WIo1xESNyBityCfyz_D3rUh-27p_F7CRp8NHxV-dgBnuB_YLxdZjbpF6Q44FhLatIu8ZPwMYF9qg_Br1M-BOPrNZXu8580NyGqfpNehJg6qg/s320/Race+Finish.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sprint finish</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNH-eiCIVOPEL3z-KiUG8NcBKVOFFAiunrzXhX-_4yuUUzG0teyFd1glzoAfsztuL4UzF9qUwr-NwIx3P0V5RkmZcunfGbLK5OO0LJ31KL73waIUH1ruI3JCaIbytkYDIP7teA0IBeNs/s1600/GettingAward.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNH-eiCIVOPEL3z-KiUG8NcBKVOFFAiunrzXhX-_4yuUUzG0teyFd1glzoAfsztuL4UzF9qUwr-NwIx3P0V5RkmZcunfGbLK5OO0LJ31KL73waIUH1ruI3JCaIbytkYDIP7teA0IBeNs/s320/GettingAward.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first win</td></tr>
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<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXsKRfC7FeU8CNZ5zfCSDbpJkkUXNp3b7jZEtSZOvn_z3Dm-Kv4O9D_m_D_3LeW5PRchBIInffo7nhv6rXre0gFFE1HYp7giUdOCdj90uPXkscWb2gsRTf8TwTqiMcukcL0FYPbJC8sU/s1600/Tonyafter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXsKRfC7FeU8CNZ5zfCSDbpJkkUXNp3b7jZEtSZOvn_z3Dm-Kv4O9D_m_D_3LeW5PRchBIInffo7nhv6rXre0gFFE1HYp7giUdOCdj90uPXkscWb2gsRTf8TwTqiMcukcL0FYPbJC8sU/s320/Tonyafter.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tony celebrating his first ultra with post race food</td></tr>
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</o:p></div>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-3938967119589617412017-05-15T08:27:00.001-07:002017-05-15T08:28:48.817-07:00Dawn to Dusk to Dawn 24 Hr<h2 dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1494861118789_4709">
</h2>
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I wasn’t originally supposed to run this race at all. Last December I signed up 3 Days at the Fair, scheduled for 5/19 through 5/21, which was going to be my first foray into multi-day races and my “A” race of the year. In February, however, I found out that my daughter’s college graduation ceremony was scheduled smack in the middle of 3D. For a while I tossed around the idea of starting 3D, running for 30 hours, hopping in a car and driving 5 hours to and from graduation and finishing the race – but that just didn’t seem the best way to either ensure the safety of the public OR experience my first multi-day race. So when I found out my friend Mike Melton was heading up through my part of town just a week prior to 3D to time “Bill Shultz’s race”, I perked my ears up and said “what race is that?” Mike told me about Dawn to Dusk to Dawn 24 ("D3"). He said it was full – but there had been some cancellations so I might be able to get in. Sure enough – I contacted Bill and there was a spot for me. I didn’t find out until AFTER I registered that it was a track race, which I had never done before. Still – I’d done 30 miles on a cruise ship track less than a year ago – so the track didn’t intimidate.</div>
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I needed this race in a bad way. My last race was Winter Beast in January – a great performance for me, but a long time ago. Since that time, my life was occupied with job hunting, then apartment hunting, divorce proceedings, a move to the DC area, and a new job. That plus being alone in a new place was making me feel really out of touch with the Ultrarunning community. I was still running big mileage weeks, but the whole thing was feeling kind of empty. I was excited to get a big race on my schedule and even happier to see that some folks I’ve run with before like Amy Dedic were going to be there. Plus, I would have a chance to meet some of the folks from the Ultralist like John Price, Bill Shultz and Ray Krolewicz, whom I’ve only met by e-mail or Facebook previously. </div>
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A couple of weeks prior the race, I was feeling great. My (relative) speed had finally started to come back in a big way after a sluggish winter, and I was careful about my taper. A week out, Bill posted the first weather forecast. Didn’t look too bad – cloudy and cool with a chance of rain in the morning on Saturday. Over the week, the forecast changed from 50% chance of rain in the morning, to 100% chance of rain including periods of soaking rain, up to an inch, plus 10-20 mile per hour winds per hour. Looked like it was going to be a soaker. </div>
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I’m pretty generally crewless and family-less on my races, and this one was no exception. However, I always meet new friends and this was ALSO no exception. The night before the race I met rock star Tara Langdon, who generously offered me a place in her tent for my gear. I also had an offer of support from Nicole Berglund who was going to be on site to crew legend Connie Gardner. My friend Mike Melton was timing the race, and a buddy from Cooperstown, Kevin Bartow, was running as well. Friends all around…</div>
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Race morning I optimistically checked the weather again, hoping for the best, but nope… the rain had already set in. The temperature was about 49 and I was on the fence about shorts or running pants – so I decided to wear my shorts UNDER my running pants so I could shed them if necessary. It was to prove a bad decision. (The wet inside waistband of the shorts rubbed against my belly for 24 hours, producing the only real injury I sustained in the race – horrendous, ugly chafing all around my mid-section).</div>
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Arriving at the track it was already pouring. I tried like crazy to keep my feet dry as I unloaded my gear and put it in Tara’s tent, to no avail. This was the first time I ever STARTED a race with feet that were soaking wet. My other big logistical issue with the rain was trying to figure out how to keep my iPod dry – I ended up wrapping a baggie around it under my armband. </div>
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I was one of the few runners that appeared to not own a waterproof outer jacket. Normally in the rain I will just opt for getting wet and letting my clothes wick it away – but it was cool out and I was afraid if I did that for too long I’d get hypothermic – so I donned a fashionable big black Hefty bag – my $1.99 solution to a waterproof jacket. I was at least the height of fashion – if nothing else. (I did have someone say it gave me kind of an 80’s “Devo” look with the square shoulders!).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donning the garbage bag</td></tr>
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Given the weather conditions the pre-race briefing was particularly brief. There were several comments about “switching to the 5K” – and then suddenly the gun went off and it was time to run.</div>
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As always – running was WAY better than waiting. I had started to get pretty cold waiting around in the rain, and was relieved to see that I warmed up quickly as I started to move. And somehow, ACTUALLY running in the rain is never as bad as the IDEA of running in the rain.</div>
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There are always moments of self doubt and “why the hell am I doing this” in long races – at least for me. I’d say at D3, these thoughts came relatively early. It was raining when we started, but the rain intensified and then the winds gusted up and the conditions were truly pretty miserable. My hands are always the first part of my body to get cold and because my gloves were soaked pretty early on, that happened sooner rather than later. Also, a couple of weeks prior to the race I had developed a Morton’s neuroma in my right foot which often resulted in searing pain under my right small toes when walking barefoot. Normally it didn’t bother me running – but as I got further in to my first 25 miles, I could feel first tingling and then a burning sensation where the neuroma was. I had also taken off my garbage back after I’d started to warm up – and once my upper body was soaked, my core started to get cold. The voices that said “just stop this madness now” came early and came loud. The idea of another 16 hours of this almost more than I could contemplate and I was feeling more than a little bit of despair.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running in the Rain</td></tr>
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After I hit the 25 mile mark I decided that a clothing and shoe change was necessary if I had any chance of continuing on. I hated to give up the time – but I was afraid if I didn’t, the foot pain would progress and I’d get so chilled I’d have to drop out. It felt so good to sit down; my fingers were numb and clumsy as I peeled off my sopping wet shoes, socks, and upper body gear and proceeded to pull on dry clothes. I didn’t bother with the pants because I didn’t think that was as critical as the top. I’d changed from my Hokas into my zero drop Altras in the hopes that this would alleviate some of the neuroma issues. I decided that I really needed to try to keep my core as dry as possible, so I got out a fresh garbage bag, re-set my bib and ankle strap and headed back out into the wet. I cringed to see that the change took me 15 minutes.</div>
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The first lap or 2 around the track I was worried I’d made a bad call on the shoes. They were rubbing the top of my foot in a different place, and everything just felt strange each time I landed. But pretty quickly I realized that it was a good call after all. Some of the aches associated with repetitive motion started to ease up, and the neuroma pain was gone – never to return for the rest of the race – even when I changed back into my Hokas again later. And without question, the change into dry clothes was a game changer. Although my feet and gloves were soaked again pretty instantly, warmth in my core gave me the strength and energy I’d been lacking, and gradually the negative voices began to fade. <br />
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Although there are many things I love about looped courses, the very best thing is the chance to be able to make new friends. Tara of course I’d met early on in the race and we were tent buddies. It was kind of hard to talk to Tara DURING the race, though, because she just kept lapping me. And lapping me. And lapping me. Her running form was exquisite and I’d say she didn’t slow down until maybe the last couple hours of the race. She was at thing of beauty to watch. Another runner nicknamed her “The Hummingbird” because of the quick, constant lightness of her step. I DID get to make friends with Dave Weiss - my ray of sunshine on the rainy track. We got to talking during a number of laps early on where we ran together – and so had quick conversations every time one of us passed the other until well into the night when he packed it in. There was Dave Johnston – one of the race leaders, but who still had an encouraging word and smile every time one of us passed the other. Bill Shultz – race director extraordinaire – at the end, as we were putting in our final miles, calling out “steady as a rock!” And of course – I can’t say enough good things about Josh Irvan’s cadets who hung out in the pouring rain to give us all aid for 24 hours. Plus the folks in the kitchen.</div>
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Not much unique to say about hours 6 to 18 – except for a couple of PRs; I PR’d 50 miles by over 5 minutes and my 100K by 20-30 minutes, hitting 61 miles a bit before the 12 hour mark. And… somewhere in that timeframe – closer to the 18 hour mark… the rain finally stopped. Leaderboard results had been posted by that point and I could see I was in the top 6 for the 24 hour. I was RIGHT on the tail of my buddy Amy Dedic – we were within just a couple of laps of each other. The other magical thing that happened between 6 and 18 was… I found my groove, which had been missing during the first 6 hours. It’s a funny thing with ultrarunners – sometimes it can take you a good 25 miles to even warm up. But there it is. Once you find that groove – that spot where you can keep running and you find yourself getting stronger and steadier? It’s magic. </div>
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Another thing that was different for me about this race was my ability to take in food. On several previous races, I’ve really had a hard time with eating any of the heaver stuff, relying largely on Coke until my stomach eases up. I didn’t seem to have that problem this time, so could take advantage of pizza, chicken burrito, hard boiled egg, coffee and a scrambled egg and bacon tortilla sandwiches along with a couple of cookies. Also, at one point, volunteers were walking around with trays of fresh hot potato soup. That soup…. It was to die for. <br />
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Last 6 hours of the race. It was dry now and the moon was out. At some point I saw I had edged into 5th place, and then, somewhere in the last couple of hours, into 4th. There was, at this point, absolutely no question about why I was doing this. I was doing this because this is what I love. These are the people that I love… the people that dig deep within themselves… who search for the next new adventure and who celebrate each other’s strengths and triumphs. These fun loving, often OCD, addictive and intensely driven and friendly people. </div>
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At 21 hours and 8 minutes, I didn’t just PR my 100 mile time – I crushed it by an hour and 27 minutes. It felt amazing. I was taking walk breaks strategically by this point and I think that was a smarter way to go than the all-run approach I took at Winter Beast. I was astounded that every time I went from a walk back to a run, I was still running pretty steady with no pain to speak of. </div>
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My goal for this race was to exceed 100 in 24 hours, and my REAL goal was to beat my previous 24 hour record of 104 miles in 24 hours. I was the 3rd female in, and the 4th overall runner. My super stretch goal was 110 miles. I finished with 109.6. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlt0CWJTDBxAJz23ptYC8iNsUTYK4MiFnjrpb5CMl-wsPSbrZIYNlNuvC-vLEsUNiYLb_jAwmdGx4qYZ86d86nB0q14Ai-9dXPHwwqSQkf2V89q7SOPtdXRZ2EoBRaJVLIkZVg6798nPM/s1600/RaceEnd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlt0CWJTDBxAJz23ptYC8iNsUTYK4MiFnjrpb5CMl-wsPSbrZIYNlNuvC-vLEsUNiYLb_jAwmdGx4qYZ86d86nB0q14Ai-9dXPHwwqSQkf2V89q7SOPtdXRZ2EoBRaJVLIkZVg6798nPM/s320/RaceEnd.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Race finish - with 1st place woman Tara Langdon</td></tr>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-90809984498514848232017-03-08T11:59:00.000-08:002017-03-09T05:19:19.116-08:00Up and Down and Up again... A Winter's taleIt is approaching Spring (sort of), and I realized I've had many run experiences and haven't written about any of them. That is largely because they have been mixed in with a huge flurry of other life events. Since my last post about One Day at the Fair, I've had 2 races - but... I've also separated from my husband of 20 years (amicably, thank goodness - but still a big life change), searched for and found a new job... in a different location (Washington DC), and run 2 more races. Wow. No wonder I haven't written. Let's start with....<br />
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<h3>
Conference House 6 Hour Endurance Challenge - Dec 10, Staten Island NY</h3>
This race appeared on my radar screen thanks to my running buddy Amy Lenza - who I had met at a NJ Trailfest race (See NJ Ultrafest race report) back in April. It was an inaugural race on Staten Island at the Conference House Park right on the water. I pinged one of my newest running friends Aubrey (see Can Lakes Redux report) who lives in New Jersey to see if she'd be interested in joining. Aubrey was signed up for the Winter Beast of Burden 100 miler in January, so she was happy to join me at the 6 hour as a training run for BOB.<br />
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I headed down to Staten Island the night before the race and stayed with Aubrey, who drove us both to the venue with about 45 minutes to spare. It was early December. The ambient temperature wasn't too bad, but the wind at the shore was wicked. Every time we got out of the car I braced myself against the wind. I saw Amy and she introduced us around to her running friends, and shortly it was time to start. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhED04AOkCX4dxSBLOAl00s-7BIBlMDF9zpIBFeSf_J6vAgi57npgaUYHFTDAX7DfnnRUBk8FY0lncn1vFxRNKxlI5f3lbEzl8ALsBj_DkqNy5aYjIt8wqvqC1HmtLZ3BuCB8_WstDiYtA/s1600/BeforeRace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhED04AOkCX4dxSBLOAl00s-7BIBlMDF9zpIBFeSf_J6vAgi57npgaUYHFTDAX7DfnnRUBk8FY0lncn1vFxRNKxlI5f3lbEzl8ALsBj_DkqNy5aYjIt8wqvqC1HmtLZ3BuCB8_WstDiYtA/s320/BeforeRace.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Aubrey with Ben Before Conference House Challenge</td></tr>
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The course was a 2 mile loop largely through the park - starting out on grass and going up and then down a little hill before landing on pavement. There was another "trail" like section a bit later that ran along the waterfront for a bit before coming back out again on road. Even though Staten Island is, well, an island, I wasn't expecting the beach. What an emotional bonus each loop, coming out onto that section and running past the sparkling water!<br />
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I'm a big fan of looped courses. I know some people find the idea of them boring - but I love seeing the same people over and over again. It's easy to get aid, cheer on your friends, compare yourself to your rivals, and not have to carry too much for any one loop. In 2 miles there is enough variety in scenery not to be bored, and you get very familiar with the course in just 1 or 2 loops. <br />
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Aubrey and I ran together for a ways and were at pretty similar paces overall. I was really happy to hit the 10 mile mark averaging 10 minute miles, and (briefly) thought maybe I could pull that off for the entire 6 hours. However, shortly after that I did find myself slowing down just a bit. The wind remained brutal for most of the race and I was never sorry that I wore my warmer clothing. <br />
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I got a sense that I was one of the top runners just by seeing who else appeared to be in front of me. I was pretty sure I was one of the top 3 women and when the really fast woman sort of disappeared for a while, I started hoping for number 2. <br />
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This race I have to say I was able to push an aggressive (read: moderately uncomfortable) pace during the last couple of hours. My goal was to get in 34 hours, and I THOUGHT I had to do that within the 6 hour mark to get credit - so I pushed relatively hard to stay on pace for that. I achieved that goal with about 1 minute to spare.<br />
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I found out AFTER the fact that for this particular timed event, you just had to START your last lap before the 6 hour mark to get credit for it - so in fact I still would have gotten credit for the 34 miles even if I had come in after 6 hours. Nonetheless... the push was good mental training and I was very happy with my race. I was the third woman in, and got a trophy for 3rd, plus a medallion for 50K and a plaque for hitting 26.2. So, I have to say, for an inaugural race - this one had pretty good bling! Plus... the race venue was beautiful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7DXPidcdZSOWIVvat3HejUysKHC-3UTTGwLkpMkjmyU_hTkKKnB4Jd1JfWxdL9yjH9792TbwINy9qLZVlfCerOLTk9aTfaEhZStx-MRTgKQDtw-AehPYrmy4tGUdULPpf0ORFzjNDUI/s1600/AfterCHRace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7DXPidcdZSOWIVvat3HejUysKHC-3UTTGwLkpMkjmyU_hTkKKnB4Jd1JfWxdL9yjH9792TbwINy9qLZVlfCerOLTk9aTfaEhZStx-MRTgKQDtw-AehPYrmy4tGUdULPpf0ORFzjNDUI/s320/AfterCHRace.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post Race with Bling</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilR4-yZI937EmETjmWMPLV-NcZimp9GRR5UDLjz1zPB0r6DZtLyZToM_CgZNUnD22s0LY_hYc-y-bcguj4ztPkUGQHwJebZHr7rROilj9buTZqU06XGKJ-_woIso7aTyvaj1GYjL4JqkA/s1600/AmyAubrey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilR4-yZI937EmETjmWMPLV-NcZimp9GRR5UDLjz1zPB0r6DZtLyZToM_CgZNUnD22s0LY_hYc-y-bcguj4ztPkUGQHwJebZHr7rROilj9buTZqU06XGKJ-_woIso7aTyvaj1GYjL4JqkA/s320/AmyAubrey.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Aubrey post race</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8B8jTlvOytv6UuQ_g0ilnvQlydiJqsCX1lb9fvZrnLcXqrQhRcREfEHXmlgC5fVGOOb-psKmcnwiNnzumK2dPu6JThMz1FZoIf9fLKPFaF-L4J53lysCr76XsOymQf63_6uUoeOEprDM/s1600/AubreyAfterRace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8B8jTlvOytv6UuQ_g0ilnvQlydiJqsCX1lb9fvZrnLcXqrQhRcREfEHXmlgC5fVGOOb-psKmcnwiNnzumK2dPu6JThMz1FZoIf9fLKPFaF-L4J53lysCr76XsOymQf63_6uUoeOEprDM/s320/AubreyAfterRace.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aubrey Post Race (borrowing my very attractive camo coat - which also made an appearance in my "One Day" report)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXBewppV4VUsJSgwiJoHrc7imhhlp_ISCNPTevwqjgnvAckWKIyw9tN-yuW0ngIZwYzCG_Ld7jLyy3mIJswRRr_Ak5NtcaIlvA2wWWoK8oaBtdwV0f_bTEsEL0sr77Q8qbiFAqEam6iY/s1600/TheAmys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXBewppV4VUsJSgwiJoHrc7imhhlp_ISCNPTevwqjgnvAckWKIyw9tN-yuW0ngIZwYzCG_Ld7jLyy3mIJswRRr_Ak5NtcaIlvA2wWWoK8oaBtdwV0f_bTEsEL0sr77Q8qbiFAqEam6iY/s320/TheAmys.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Amys</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first Trophy</td></tr>
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I spent the night again at Aubrey's house, and we both went out and enjoyed a post race burger and fries before I headed off to Cooperstown the next day, where.....<br />
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<br />
<h3>
Amy's life changes drastically....</h3>
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The day after the 6 hour race, my husband of 20 years, Matthew, and I, separated. No details to be posted here besides just noting that we had been growing apart for some time and... for various reasons, this was the time to part ways. But... HUGE life change.<br />
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I had always said if I were ever not with Matthew anymore, I'd move south. Cooperstown is beautiful - but it is cold - often frigid. The winters are long and dark. It is a very rural location in that it is a good 60-90 minutes away from any decent size cities (apologies to Oneonta which calls itself a city, and is 30 minutes away but really... is not). <br />
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Upon finding myself a single woman, I immediately started pursing my goal of living south of the Mason Dixon line and started a full fledged job search mostly based in the DC area where I've spent time and where my brother lives.<br />
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The job search was gratifying in terms of the number of "hits" I got on my resume and the number of positions for which I was asked to interview. Job hunting was almost a full time job in and of itself. Nonetheless I maintained my 80 mile per week schedule through most of December and January, as well as a full time job.<br />
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I realized I also needed some new running goals, with all of my 2016 races done. So, shortly after the 6 hour race, I signed up for 2 big 2017 races - the Winter Beast of Burden 100 and my first foray into multi-days - the 72 hour 3 Day at the Fair event in NJ in May. <br />
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<br />
<h3>
A new training route - learning to love hills</h3>
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<br />
Upon my separation, I moved from my house just south of Cooperstown to my parent's place 7 miles away. I have to say I was REALLY reluctant to move there because of.... hills. The house is about 3 1/2 miles outside of town, and as you head toward town (which was going to be my running route), at around mile 1.5, you start hitting a series of rolling hills, each steeper than the last. It's a bitch even driving it... I was really nervous about running it as an out and back (so SIX total hills for a 10 mile run). The first day I set out with dread. Their road was even DARKER in the morning than mine due to less houses - so it was eerily quiet and with my headlamp, sort of like running through a tunnel. The hills, though tough, were manageable. And at the end of the run, I'd lost my sense of dread - I had conquered the hills. And the dark. And the unknown. And within a VERY short period of time... I came to ADORE this run route. The hills have been teaching me wonderful things about effort and pacing and cadence, and shortly after running this route daily, I found myself faster on flats. Prior to my 100 miler, I clocked a couple of 10 milers with an average "comfortable" (non-tempo) pace of 9:40 to 9:50 or so - which, for me, was pretty great. <br />
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<h3>
A Busy Week - a 100 miler, a job interview and a visit to another city</h3>
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<br />
Perhaps the craziest week of this winter started for me on January 27, when I headed out to Lockport to run my BOB redux. (Summer Beast of Burden was my first 100 miler last August - it topped out at 95 degrees that day.). I was looking forward to seeing my buddy Aubrey as well as running into some other running rock stars.<br />
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<br />
As per usual, I headed out alone, checked into my hotel alone. I had queried other runners about dinner plans and learned of a local Italian place that was kind of a regular informal pre-race dinner venue. So, after checking in, I headed over there. I was the first to arrive, and as I was starving, ordered myself some squash bisque (YUM!) and chicken parm. As I was eating the soup, Gary, one of the runners I knew, arrived with his buddy Ben and his son Payton. I've been amazed by Payton who is, I think, about 12, at previous races, running long distances along side his dad. He was planning on running the 25 while Gary was doing 50. Ben, who also joined us, was running his first 100. <br />
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<br />
As I so often do the night before a big race, I ate. And ate. And ate. (See BPAC 6 hour write-up and my pre-race German food. This, alas, is a pattern). Restraint was not part of the equation - to the extent that when I was done, I'd consumed the bisque, a salad, 2 or 3 pieces of bread, the entire plate of veal parmesan (easily a meal for 2), and... most of a piece of peanut butter pie. Jim Pease, one of the Race Directors, was staring at me with what was either an appalled, amazed, or a little bit of both, look. "Wow - you're fueled", he said. Yes. Yes I was. Perhaps a little TOO fueled. It's not that I was worried I wouldn't burn it off... I was more worried about the potential digestive effect both with regard to sleep that night, and pre-race gut issues. Sigh. I really need to get a hold of that.<br />
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<br />
I slept fine, though, without any indigestion... and as the race start wasn't until 10, had plenty of time to just chill out. I breakfasted, went to Walmart and bought a new hat and gloves, and then headed over to the race.<br />
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<br />
I just have to say before I describe this race that I was REALLY intimidated by this one. More so than any I've run so far, including, I think, my first 100. Running a hot race didn't worry me NEARLY as much as the idea of all of the possible weather situations that could occur in winter. Snow, sleet, ice, sub zero temps, wind.... All of these were possible. Fortunately they were all conditions through which I had trained as well - so I was as prepared as I could be. Still - I had zero desire to be running in a foot of fresh snow (the towpath doesn't get plowed). I was tremendously relieved to see that the temps promised to hover in the low 20's. Currently there was no real snow on the ground. There was heavy lake effect snow predicted for just 20 miles south - but it wasn't predicted to get as far north as Lockport. What WAS predicted was... wind. To the tune of 15-25 mph with higher gusts. OK. Well... if wind was all I had to deal with, I was OK with that.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4nKsgDLrHOcrPRSKj6PP56ZDOX72Wg_3P0aHMN1pl_9mdkU842aazVaLw7kV3K3v2llc-Wm8ztLr8GzW0IevDZah_HKiak3tnIiyPsTR8AwPnwjTD43j4WP0ZYDeq0XqcnY9nLt2nYs/s1600/PreBeast1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4nKsgDLrHOcrPRSKj6PP56ZDOX72Wg_3P0aHMN1pl_9mdkU842aazVaLw7kV3K3v2llc-Wm8ztLr8GzW0IevDZah_HKiak3tnIiyPsTR8AwPnwjTD43j4WP0ZYDeq0XqcnY9nLt2nYs/s320/PreBeast1.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-Race with Gary, Katherine and young Payton</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLAu_fx7z6WozhQaXJ_vi02P-NM8sGGCVJ83B37gegYZEQEzEUx9YRybo8WcTz0kBWlfnIKC4NaN8HmNUc4Q6rINHdyFGrVzdyncIIh5gkTItCLhVv2Dd_im9wIe93poYJznaC5CDdYA/s1600/PreBeast2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLAu_fx7z6WozhQaXJ_vi02P-NM8sGGCVJ83B37gegYZEQEzEUx9YRybo8WcTz0kBWlfnIKC4NaN8HmNUc4Q6rINHdyFGrVzdyncIIh5gkTItCLhVv2Dd_im9wIe93poYJznaC5CDdYA/s320/PreBeast2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-Race - Ben, Aubrey, Justin & Nina</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
<br />
I met up with everyone I knew prior to the race start - Aubrey, Gary, Katherine, Payton, Ben... my buddy Maria. Took some pics, and soon enough the sound of ACDC's Hells Bells began to ring out and it was starting time.<br />
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(Copy and paste link below to FB to see video of race venue by Dan Salmons...)<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/dan.salmons.1/videos/10211703657490025/">https://www.facebook.com/dan.salmons.1/videos/10211703657490025/</a><br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
I started out with Aubrey, and we both started slow and conservatively. I was concerned about the footing because the first mile of paved path was all literally black ice. We had to take really short steps not to slip, and I didn't have any special grips on my shoes. Once we got to the gravel towpath, the footing improved, and I'm happy to say that first section (which we would cover 8 times during 100 miles) lost the black ice by the time I got back from my first loop.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAKChv1KgalBg7dxFbAob9gZZb0UFrjZIo1O2gsYuvwMaDWnfY_HXwdNHgTLSYjLYZw60rDLkkbiV81kNaU-BuZZUp-k-171IgfcVEUh8kcqLNVeKybT9mCqTK36P72dNFWbLMJ7XWVs/s1600/RunningBeast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivAKChv1KgalBg7dxFbAob9gZZb0UFrjZIo1O2gsYuvwMaDWnfY_HXwdNHgTLSYjLYZw60rDLkkbiV81kNaU-BuZZUp-k-171IgfcVEUh8kcqLNVeKybT9mCqTK36P72dNFWbLMJ7XWVs/s320/RunningBeast.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy - looking just a bit uncomfortable</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
First 25 mile loop was pretty smooth and easy. My pace was consistently between 10 and 10:30, and I believe I hit 25 miles right around 4 hours 20 minutes give or take. Maybe 4:30. In any case, easily 1/2 hour faster than where I hit 25 over the summer. My stop at the aid station was extremely brief, and back out I went. <br />
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<br />
I had brought 4 changes of clothes with the idea that if I sweat a lot, I'd need to change to stay dry, or else face hypothermia. So, each loop closing, I performed a self eval to decide whether I should change. I ended up never actually changing for the entire race. <br />
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<br />
The wind was, in fact, pretty strong. It was a tailwind all the way down to the 12.5 mile turnaround - but then coming back it was always a headwind. So the back half was always colder and slower than the first. But... manageable. I never felt like I was overly cold until maybe somewhere in the last loop, and at that point, it was almost over.<br />
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<br />
I was really pleased with my 50 mile split as well - it was somewhere around the 9:30 mark. During the summer race, I had hit 50 at around the 11 hour mark, and didn't head out for the 3rd loop until about 11 hours 10 or 15 minutes. So, I was about an hour and 45 minutes ahead of my summer time. My goal was sub 24. So far I was on pace.<br />
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<br />
Lap 3 was where my issues started. Somewhere around mile 54, every time I stopped at an aid station for any time at all, I got this sort of debilitating pain out the outside of my left knee. It was hard to even walk with it. I was afraid at that point that I was staring at a DNF. The first time it happened, I just walked (hobbled) a bit until it gradually got better, and then I gently moved into something approximating a run motion - very gently. The pain eased up and I was able to get into a run rhythm again. For the rest of the race this happened every time I stopped. So, during that 50-75 mile split, I was disheartened to see that my times were quite a bit slower than they had been for the same mile mark at my November 24 hour race. The good news is... it got better during the last lap. So, although my 50-75 was slower, my 75-100 was quite a bit faster. One difference was... I was able to maintain a run up to about the last mile. This was likely thanks to the weather. By that point my clothes were damp and the wind was fierce. I was pretty concerned that if I DIDN'T run, I'd end up with hypothermia. At that point my run pace had slowed down to about 14-15 minute miles - but I still figured it was PROBABLY better than what I'd be walking at that point (at my last race, my average times during those laps were probably 16-17 minute miles, with some 18's thrown in because of the degree of walking). Given how long it took me to get back up to speed after each aid station, I made the strategic decision to not stop at all at the last station at mile 93.4, but just run straight on past.<br />
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<br />
One way in which this race was different for me was that it was my first overnight venue when I spent significant time alone. At my summer 100, I had pacers the whole time. At NJ One Day at the Fair, it was a looped course, so you were constantly surrounded by people. At this race... particularly by night-time, runners were few and far between. As it was the middle of winter, darkness came early - around 4:30-5pm, and it didn't start to get light until probably 7:30 in the morning. Night... was long. There were no lights on the towpath outside of the occasional runner's headlamp. I found that those dark early morning runs from my parent's house, down a dark and lonely country road, in the cold, with me an my headlamp, had been perfect mental training for this piece. There came a point at about 4 in the morning when I realized that light was only a few hours away. At 4:30, I realized that this was my normal "getting up" time - so officially, morning had come. There was one slightly unnerving point where I found myself drifting off the trail - the snow was flying sideways at that point, so it was a little hard to see, and I found myself in danger of falling into the canal. I quickly course corrected, realizing with alarm that had I fallen - it would have been a while before anyone found the body. <br />
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<br />
Once again, I knew I was one of the top 10 runners just judging by the people who were clearly ahead of me. I was amazed to find myself still running steadily into the 80's, low 90's and then high 90's. This was entirely new territory for me.<br />
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I finished the race in 22 hours and 42 minutes. I was the second woman in, and the eighth racer overall. And... it was 2 hours and 40 minutes faster than my corresponding summer race. All in all, I was thrilled.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxOSoVnRjJrQ_Oswtsbjlb-xe4BZeno5ByfvL7u60lC0VBGnQOe_75C0p96QOUjIVcvdMOXb4qAtb85wWyDSDCUJFlaN3FfH3dFkcZ_MsgFuU3-uonGK2sF9v5mCe-T0n6gXSbuUmWaI/s1600/Finishing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxOSoVnRjJrQ_Oswtsbjlb-xe4BZeno5ByfvL7u60lC0VBGnQOe_75C0p96QOUjIVcvdMOXb4qAtb85wWyDSDCUJFlaN3FfH3dFkcZ_MsgFuU3-uonGK2sF9v5mCe-T0n6gXSbuUmWaI/s320/Finishing.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beast Finish</td></tr>
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<br />
I have to give a huge shout out to the volunteers and organizers of this race. It is now the 3rd time I've run at this venue, and the 2nd time I've run 100 there. The food at the stations is AWESOME. My favorite food moment was at mile 87.5 - the last turnaround of the last loop. They gave me fresh pancakes, sausage and OJ, which I gulped down in about 2 minutes. It was AMAZING. The people are SO helpful and wonderful. The race is beautifully organized. It really is a great event.<br />
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<h3>
Recovery, a job interview and a trip</h3>
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<br />
So. This was my 3rd 100 mile distance since August. Recovery from the first 2 had been beyond my wildest dreams - 2 days post race, I was running gently without aches or pains - albeit very slowly for a week or 2. (A friend has subsequently told me that this means I didn't go hard enough. I suspect he's right). So, as I had done with really ALL of the ultras I've completed in the past year, I took a full day completely off after the race (Monday) and headed out Tuesday morning. This... did not feel particularly good. My left IT band was still wonky... my right pinky toe had a blister on it the likes of which I had never seen (essentially the toe WAS a blister). My left foot was just feeling kind of bad. Hard to explain why. I made it through the run, went to work for the day, and then headed out of town via airplane for my first in person job interview in DC. I had planned to try to run before the interview on Wednesday but I gave myself permission to take the morning off and just focus on the interview. A good thing. I really desperately needed the sleep as recovery. <br />
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Fitting my feet into the high heels I needed for the interview... Now that was a treat. <br />
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Good news is - I did well at the interview and really enjoyed all of the people I met. I came out of it with a pretty positive feeling. Headed back to Albany by plan that night, and got in the next day's run via treadmill. Also not a great run - left foot STILL not right. But... got it done. My head was starting to tell me maybe... this time... I should have taken more time off.<br />
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This hectic week concluded with a visit out of town to visit an ultra running friend. We ran a lovely scenic route on both Saturday and Sunday morning. Pace was not aggressive - which, for me, was a good thing. I hit it a bit harder Sunday then Saturday, and was a bit dismayed to feel yet a NEW area of aggravation. My calves. They just started to ache. I'd stop and stretch and start running slowly again and it would be OK for a couple of hundred yards - and then back the pain would come.<br />
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<br />
Good grief. The bad news was... every time I ran, something hurt. The good news was... every time I ran, something DIFFERENT hurt. Which meant - that there was no individual body part that was injured. Rather - nothing was quite right yet.<br />
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
In which Amy is terrified about a possible stress fracture and is simultaneously hit with the Plague</h3>
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Sunday night I flew home from Chicago. This next week promised to be just as hectic in that I had yet ANOTHER job interview in DC - this time on Thursday. Runs this week started to get a little bit better from a body mechanics point of view. Still - I was having regular alternating issues between the top of my left foot hurting, and my left knee continuing to act wonky. I doubled up on my IT Band rehab routine. <br />
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<br />
The Sunday of that week, when I was dropping my visiting friend off at the aiport during a blizzard, I noticed to my terror and extreme dismay that the top of my left foot, which heretofore had just acted up during my runs was now hurting (quick a bit, actually) just walking. Oh dear. Oh no. What... did this mean?<br />
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<br />
Of course as soon as I got home, I started looking up "top of foot pain". It didn't look good. The most hits I got were for a condition called a "navicular stress fracture". If this, in fact, were the diagnosis, it would mean 6-8 weeks without running. Abject Terror and Loss of Sleep ensued.<br />
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<br />
Making matters more challenging, it appeared I had picked up a bit of a cold on my travels. I did as I always do and started taking Zinc and Airborne around the clock which mostly seemed to keep the symptoms away. For about a week. Until...<br />
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<br />
<h4>
</h4>
... after a week of trying desperately to avoid getting a full blown cold, it hit. Specifically, it hit my lungs. Hard. Just as the rest of my body was starting to recover from my race, my lungs were hit with the force of a hurricane by asthma and bronchitis symptoms the likes of which I had never previously experienced. I'm not actually asthmatic but am acutely familiar with the symptoms as both my brother and my father are. For years I've had a prescription for a rescue inhaler because even though I don't have asthma per se, I would sometimes experience some weather - related asthma symptoms running in the cold, and a puff on the inhaler would relieve them. I found myself, during this illness, puffing on the inhaler as often as the max daily dose allowed it. I also started round the clock Mucinex to try to relieve the chest congestion. During the day my chest was "tight" and I'd cough with some regularity without really having it be productive. Night was much, much worse. For many nights in a row, as soon as I went to bed, the coughing fits started. I'd get an uncontrollable urge to cough and I'd have to sit up and hack my brains out for what seemed like forever. These coughing fits brought tears to my eyes and regularly brought me close to throwing up. This would happen pretty much every hour throughout the night. I wasn't using the inhaler at bedtime because it is a stimulant and can keep you awake. There came a point, however, where I decided that the stimulants in the inhaler couldn't be any worse than the coughing, as I was ALREADY awake all night, so I started using THAT every 4 hours around the clock. That at least reduced my coughing fits to every 4 hours, right before my inhaler dose was due. <br />
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<br />
In the middle of that week, as my foot continued to not improve, I made an appointment with a podiatrist. That, at least, reassured me. My podiatrist, who is also a local knitting friend (Hi Amy, if you are reading this!) seemed pretty confident that what I had was anterior tibial tendonitis and NOT a stress fracture. Overuse - yes, but not... debilitating. Stretching, gait adjustment, proper shoes, Epsom Salts and regular foot stretch/strengthening should do the trick for this one. <br />
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<br />
HUGE sigh of relief.<br />
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<br />
Of course... anyone who knows me (and who has read this blog... read... addiction...) knows that I ran through this whole damn thing. Daily I'd wake up at 4:30, exhausted from cough interrupted sleep, and pull on my cold weather run gear and head out into the cold dark. I've found that I can run through pretty much anything as long as I adjust my pace for how I am feeling. Never, however, have I found myself as slow as I found myself during this time period. My normal "comfortable" pace generally ranges between about 9:45 to 10:30 minute miles depending upon my energy level. Post 100 I was doing 11's. With this bronchitis plague, I found my pace slowing down even more until I hit about an average of 11:30. I knew... I KNEW I needed to take a break. That no matter how much I wanted to get in a 30 mile weekend, giving me back my first 80 mile since my race, it wasn't going to happen. <br />
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(This is hard for me to do.)<br />
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<br />
So. Finally. 2 weeks into this bronchitis thing... and 3 weeks post race... I decided I was NOT going to attempt to do my long run on Saturday. I was not, in fact, going to do ANY run on Saturday. Perhaps not even on Sunday or Monday either. It was time... to take a break.<br />
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I went to bed on Friday night without setting my alarm, all ready to sleep as long as I needed to in order to kick this horrible illness.<br />
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<br />
I slept. I slept. And I slept some more. Somewhere around 6am I woke up, opened one eye and looked at the clock. I closed my eyes again and went back to sleep. I slept until 9am. <strong><span style="font-size: large;"> 9 am!</span></strong> I think the last time I slept until 9am I was in college. And hungover. 7am is usually sleeping late for me. 9:00 is simply unheard of.<br />
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<br />
I woke up feeling a bit like a new person. I had breakfast and mentally took a look at my day. This was, in fact, the first weekend I had been home alone since 2 weeks before my race. I'd travelled out of town 4 weekends in a row, and then the previous weekend entertained a friend from out of town (while dealing with a late winter blizzard to boot). Wow - a whole weekend to myself, and not even a run on my docket. It felt extremely strange.<br />
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<br />
Of course in the back of my head, I was having a hard time with the idea of not doing anything toward my 80 mile per week goal. In an e-mail conversation with a good friend the day before, when I lamented that I wouldn't be running on Saturday, he said... "Take a walk.". Hmmmm. Take a walk. OK - well, I could do that. Maybe I could just sneak in a few walking miles and at least feel like I was doing SOMETHING. Especially since I had the entire day ahead of me and no plans at all. I headed downstairs to the basement and hopped on the treadmill setting it to 4mph, and banged out a couple of miles. Wow - that felt kinda good. In fact... things got a little nice and limber. I figured I could get in another couple of miles bringing it up to a total of 5 before I had to head to Oneonta for a car appointment that afternoon. And the best part is... walking didn't bring on that overwhelming disease induced fatigue nor did it bring on any coughing fits. This was swell!<br />
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<br />
The weather on this particular day was staggeringly beautiful for mid-February. The high was supposed to be in the 60's and it was sunny - the snow from last weekend's blizzard was melting all over the place. When I dropped off my car, I asked how long it would be and they said about an hour. I'd brought my knitting, but.... hmmm. An hour. Perhaps I'd... take another walk. So I headed out of the door of the Toyota Service station and found myself on the shoulder of State Highway 28, heading south, walking briskly. Cobwebs seemed to clear in my head. Any wonkiness with my foot had already been worked out that morning. Unlike my runs where I am at least aware of pace (lately abysmal), I had no time goals for this walk. I just figured I'd walk for about an hour - 30 minutes down and then turn around. It was amazing the number of things around me that I took notice of walking, that I had never seen before. Like the creek down to my left. I'd never even known it was there. The warmth from the sun, offset by a cool breeze. The trickle of snow melting. The architecture of the farms and houses I was passing. <br />
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<br />
Take a walk.<br />
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<br />
The dealer had said they'd call me when my car was done, and after an hour, I still hadn't gotten a call - so I figured I'd just walk until I hit 5 miles and then head back. Which I did.<br />
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<br />
So. Saturday afternoon and I was feeling pretty great. On a weekend when I had aimed for 30 and was prepared to give it up entirely, I'd gotten in 10 miles with lots of enjoyment and zero pain. I expected I could easily do the same on Sunday. If so - I'd only end up 10 miles short of my weekly goal... WITHOUT hurting myself or making myself sicker.<br />
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<br />
On Sunday I woke up feeling great. It was another nice weather day and another day where I really had nothing on my docket. I decided to give a run a try. I was perfectly willing to make it a run-walk, or even entirely walk if the run part didn't go well. I just wanted to try. My planned distance was 10, and if I was still feeling good at the 5 mile turnaround, I'd go another 2.5 and make it 15.<br />
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<br />
I headed out at an easy run. I was astounded to see that after weeks of my pace being in the 11's (and then the high 11's), all of a sudden, I was bounding along in the mid-10's. Foot felt...fine. Lungs felt... (mostly) fine. This. Was. Wonderful. I did indeed go for the 15, and at that point I was only 5 miles shy of my 80 mile week goal. Which I knew I could achieve with easy walking. So... at 15, I turned back around and walked a brisk comfortable mile. And decided to throw in a bit more run. 4 miles more of it, it turns out. Bringing me to my 30 mile weekend, and my 80 mile week. And best of all... I was feeling good again.<br />
<br />
<br />
That was the turnaround point. I've certainly had some less than stellar runs since that 20-miler a few weeks ago, but that was when I started to get better instead of worse. That was the first day, since my Winter BOB, when I felt my Run Joy come back. And... I can't even begin to describe the relief.<br />
<br />
<br />
It has been almost 3 weeks since that weekend. It took another 2 weeks to shake the illness entirely - a day or 2 after that weekend, I finally saw my doctor who put me on a 3 day course of Prednisone, a 10 day course of Amoxicillin, and a steroid inhaler twice a day. After that great run on Sunday, another week of less than stellar runs followed, before I truly started to feel "recovered" and was able to run with what felt like clear lungs and a relatively normal energy level. I have to say I've not been hit by an illness of that magnitude in years. (It apparently is a known "baddie" - lots of people I know, including my parents in Florida, had the same thing, including a lingering cough that took weeks to go away).<br />
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<br />
<h3>
Where I am now...</h3>
So here it is... March 8. Sometime about a week and a half ago, my runs finally got pretty normal again. I'm ALMOST back to my pre-race comfortable pace. There has been no trace of tendonitis pain or IT band issues in over a week. After a month of broken, I've finally started to find my strong again. <br />
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I have made multiple trips to DC in the past month - I have a new place to live that I'll be moving into in about 10 days. It is in Falls Church, Virginia - about a mile from one of my favorite running paths down there (the Washington and Old Dominion - "W & OD" - running trail) and only about 5 miles from my house. There are 2 fitness centers in the complex as well as a lap pool that will be open in the summer. After 20 years of living in a house, I will be going back to apartment living (and, for a little while, living with not much furniture). I'll be working on Pennsylvania Avenue, and in a cultural hub where I can have access to food of every ethnicity and museums galore. <br />
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My divorce will likely be final in about a week. Somewhere around the last day of work at the location where I've worked for 18 years. Lots of changes. Sometimes it is overwhelming - all of these at once. How do I stay grounded?<br />
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Oh yeah. I run.<br />
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<br />Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-88459899157880586172016-11-15T13:38:00.000-08:002016-11-15T16:53:20.728-08:0024 Hours of Kicking Asphalt - NJ One Day 2016<br />
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So this weekend I just completed my last "big" race for 2016 - 24 hours at "One Day at the Fair" - a 24 hour race which is part of the New Jersey Trail Series. My goal was to hit 100 miles in less than 24 hours. Given that I had completed 100 miles at Summer Beast of Burden in 25:23 in brutally hot conditions, I thought this was a realistic goal for a cooler time of year, with just a bit more conditioning under my belt.<br />
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As with every one of these events that I've run so far, there is the running part... and there are the people. And the beauty and joy in this sport is how both aspects are incredibly special by themselves, and when they come together, make for a transcendent experience.<br />
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Let's start with the people. So... I'm pretty used to going to races alone. The only times I've really had a "crew" were Summer Beast (and what a crew!!! Allyson, Russell, Sen, my parents and my daughter Patty... There is a whole other report about that effort of love)... and, my first 50 miler, where, although my daughter Patty didn't "crew" me per se - she was THERE, at every single aid station, cheering me on.<br />
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So... I didn't bring anyone. But... I HAD someone. I had people. Running people. First: Aubrey. So I met Aubrey just a few months ago - first via Facebook, and then in person. I had posted to the CanLakes 50 FB group asking for a woman to share a hotel room for the race and cut down on costs, and Aubrey responded. I could tell pretty quickly from FB that she was my kind of people... and it was confirmed within minutes of her entering the hotel room in October. We had lots to talk about and had a good weekend. So, when I realized she lived in NJ and my One Day race was in NJ, I contacted her to ask if she was doing it and whether she could suggest someplace to stay. She immediately invited NOT ONLY to let me stay at her house the night before AND after the race, but to drive me to and from the venue an hour away from her house). <br />
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People. Damn.<br />
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About a week out, I started checking out the forecast for the race. It was supposed to be relatively cold. I've heard from a number of people that it is key to stay in dry layers, so the day before the race found me pulling together 4 full separate base layers, anticipating a possible need to change at each 25 mile mark or so... I also had 4 pairs of gloves/mittens, several hats, a variety of layers of outerwear, 3 pairs of shoes (different widths and heel/toe drops), and 2 pairs of shoe inserts. Salt tabs, and medicines: Pepto/Bismol, Gelucil, Tylenol, being key... My bag was as full as it could possibly be.<br />
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I left work a little early on Friday to head down to NJ, and got to Aubrey's shortly after 6. She was making a salad and had a great big pot of this fantastic Bolognese sauce that her husband Phil had made before he left to pick up their son Harry at school for the weekend. We immediately started chattering away like long lost buddies (we shared strong views on the recent election), and as soon as it was ready I dug into the Rigatoni and Bolognese. Heaven. <br />
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Phil and Harry arrived home not too long after, so I got to hang with them a bit before it was time to go to bed and rest up for the race. I felt immediately at home with this amazing family, and was so moved by their generosity and complete "adoption" of me.<br />
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Although for years I used to sleep poorly before races - particularly before big races, that seems to have largely gotten better. I got a full night of good sleep and woke up well rested.<br />
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The race start was at 9 on Saturday morning and was about an hour from Aubrey's house, so we planned to leave by 6:45. I woke up at 5:45 and started pulling on my race clothes. Really, there wasn't much to do besides get dressed and drink coffee. We headed out to the bagel shop and picked up about a dozen piping hot fresh NJ bagels. I chowed down my "SuperEgg" bagel with lox cream cheese, OJ and coffee, we put the gear in the car and headed off. Within about 5 minutes I already realized I'd forgotten my "meds" bag, so we quickly turned back to get it, since there was no traffic and it appeared we had time to spare.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy & Aubrey pre-race</td></tr>
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I went over to check in and then came to set up my gear on the table that Aubrey had lent me. The sun was shining brilliantly, but it was cold and windy. Whenever the wind stopped I was comfortable but otherwise I was chilly. It didn't seem like much time passed before we gathered at the race start, and we were off!</div>
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Early into the race I was already feeling much better than I ever felt physically at my 100 miler in August. I had no aches or pains, and my running was smooth, easy, and on pace. On slow training runs, I normally hit the 25 mile mark somewhere close to 4:30. (Contrasting with my 95 degree Beast of Burden where I didn't hit it until 5). I hit 25 miles at 4:22 or so, and was feeling just fine. I was hooked into good tunes; the course was smooth and easy - and mostly consisted of my favorite surface - pavement (with the exception of a short section before the timing mat which was sort of crushed gravel). Even better - I hit the 50 mile mark at 9 hours and 21 minutes - which was an hour and 40 minutes faster than my summer race. And, in my summer race, I think I took a 5-10 minute break at the aid station at 50, whereas here I just kept going. So, at this point in the race, I was about an hour and 50 minutes ahead of my previous 100 attempt. And... was feeling good.<br />
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During the day I met a couple of folks out on the course... there was Helen Clark, from England. There was the other Amy - a trail runner who I had met briefly online prior to the race. There was also a young lady (Sydney, I was later to find out), who, at age 10 ran her first marathon in 5 hours 58 minutes and 23 seconds, with her dad Bryan at her side. How amazing!!! There was Sheryl Wheeler, to whom I had talked briefly before the race - super strong runner. In addition to the folks on the course, I also got to meet Matt Beyer, who was there to support a runner named Mark. Matt now falls into my category of "amazing ultra peeps". He essentially adopted me, and waved to me at every lap, asking if I needed anything - pulling stuff out of my bag, and even picking me up some coconut water when he went out to the store. There was Francis Kwok - a Facebook friend from Trail and Ultra Running who was volunteering in the kitchen. I can't tell you the number of times he called out "need anything Amy? Can we get you some food?" Later, after the 12 hour race started, I also got to meet Royce Brenner in person - I had also met him and chatted briefly online before the race. He was running his first ultra and did a great job. He looked so strong out there every time I saw him. There was another woman who I definitely noticed - but, I doubt she noticed me. Because. She was going FAST. The WHOLE time. She lapped me many times - steady as a rock. I found out later her name was Megan - she was the female winner of the course (coming very close, I think, to the overall course record), racking up an unbelievable total of 140 miles. Her pace stayed steady and under the 10 minute mile mark up until mile 100 and even then she didn't slow down much. She was a machine. I was in awe.<br />
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What amazed me about this race, and what was so different from my 100 over the summer, was just how long I felt strong, and just how long I could keep running. At Summer Beast of Burden, I started doing a real heavy mix of walking with my running starting at mile 50. At mile 75, I'd say I was doing a lot more walking than running. <br />
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Not so, at One Day. I hit the 60's, and felt incredibly strong. It FELT like I was running 10 minute miles. (Looking at the pace sheet, they were 11's and 12's...). But, everything FELT great. Sometime a bit later, I'm not exactly sure when, I started walking the section from the timing belt to my gear - which was probably close to a quarter of a mile, and then running the rest of each lap. I did that into the 90's.<br />
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The moon was incredibly bright, and it got cold, cold, cold. I mentioned earlier I had brought a whole bunch of dry clothes with the thought of changing during the race. I realized, as I ran, that there was really not a logistically easy way to do this, for a couple of reasons. First, I hadn't brought a tent - so if I wanted to change in private, I'd have to cart my clothes to the bathroom - which wasn't all that close to my gear table. So, I'd either have to take breaks and walk off and back on to the course, or carry my gear with me for 3/4 of a mile until I REACHED the bathroom. Then, I'd have to take off several layers of clothes in order to get the dry stuff on. I figured I'd easily lose 10-15 minutes changing, and I just wasn't sure that it was worth it. So, instead of getting dry, my strategy became "just put on more clothing". As night fell, I donned a hat and fleece gloves. It got colder and I put on my purple lined running jacket over my running shirt. It got even colder and I put on the wonderful down vest we got as race swag. Colder still, and I changed into the fleece running hat that my friend Jessie made for me a couple of years ago - it has a fleece strap that buttons around your chin which is sort of like adding on a scarf. Swapped out my damp fleece gloves for some dry warm gloves. Picked up hand warmers from the aid station. Finally, somewhere around 10-15 miles before the end, when my running was getting weak enough that I couldn't reliably run to keep warm, I donned my lined camoflouge parka, just completing the ridiculous look. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was COLD!!!</td></tr>
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This was my 3rd overnight race, and my second that went for over 24 hours. As with the 2 previous races, there was never, ever, any feeling of sleepiness. There were a couple of odd moments when morning approached when I closed my eyes to blink, and it sort of felt like a flash went off. But... it was momentary, and went away. <br />
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At 4:30 I started actively looking forward to morning... not because I minded running in the dark (I don't), but because I really wanted the sun to come up and start warming up the course. I was SO cold. And then, around 6, the sky DID start to brighten... it did it slowly, and brilliantly, with incredible pale blues and stunning pinks. It took an hour more for the sun to actually be over the horizon, and another 30-60 minutes after THAT for the sun to start to warm things up to any meaningful level. So, all things considered, it was still pretty damn cold for most of the morning.<br />
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As I approached 100 miles, I saw Amy Dedic each lap. I was amazed that she was still managing a run... (my ankle was bothering me at this point, so pretty much all running had ceased). She was a couple of laps behind me, but looked like she'd hit her 100 before 24 hours as well. I was even more impressed when we chatted afterwards on Facebook and I learned she really doesn't like pavement and had been in pain for many hours.<br />
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Around mile 98, I met Robert... a marine who was running the 12 hour. It was wonderful to have his company for those last couple of laps before 100. As I approached the timing mat on my 100 mile lap, I started singing that Rocky theme (Flying High now)... I crossed the timing mat and Rick McNulty called out "22:31!", meaning I'd hit 100 miles at 22 hours and 31 minutes. which was... 89 minutes faster than my goal, and almost 3 hours faster than my last 100. And, to show just how freaking cold and uncomfortable I was, I yelled "Shit! That means I have 90 minutes left!!". (Again - my goal for this was the 100 - not "to run as far as I could for 24 hours"). But, of course, I wasn't going to waste that time. I did, however, stop at the aid station (which I had pretty much bypassed for the last 20 miles in my quest to get to 100 as quickly as possible), and enjoyed the BEST bacon, eggs and coffee of my life. I'm pretty sure that bacon and eggs cost me mile 105, since there were only 10 minutes left on the clock when I hit 104... without the food there might have been time for me to get that extra mile. But... I didn't care. I had done what I set out to do - I had reached my goal. Hell, I SMASHED my goal. And I felt awesome.<br />
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Walked it out for the last 4 miles - tried once or twice for a run, but the way my ankle felt, I didn't want to risk injury - so I didn't. I hit 104 at about 23:49:31, which made me the 4th woman, and the 8th runner in the 24 hour race. It was a good day. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the race, with my finisher's license plate</td></tr>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-12137590363991835932016-10-11T11:45:00.001-07:002016-10-11T11:45:43.003-07:00Can Lakes 50 miler Redux - 2016
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So – Saturday, October 8<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> was officially my
ultra running 1 year anniversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
first ultramarathon was completed at the Can Lakes 50 miler in 2015, and last
Saturday I went back for a repeat performance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As anyone following my blog is aware, I’ve been pretty
consistently busy since last October.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After completing Can Lakes last year, I went on to race in 8 other
ultras including my first (second, and third) venture(s) into trail racing, a 6
hour timed race in Buffalo, a 12 hour overnight race at Candlelight 12, a road
50K, Winter Beast of Burden 25 miler, and my “A” race of the year, Summer Beast
of Burden 100 miler (all detailed on the blog).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve learned a lot of lessons in the past year –
particularly the value of high weekly mileage – most of it at an easy
pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In addition to the high mileage, I’ve
been throwing in regular hill work as well as almost weekly speed and/or tempo
workouts, plus some regular bike, swim and strength to keep things
balanced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went into this years’ Can
lakes 50 with the sole goal of beating last years’ time by any amount.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was not sure that this goal was attainable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was VERY surprised and pleased with last
year’s race, coming in almost 30 minutes faster than my “stretch” goal of under
10:04 (which would qualify me for a silver age-group medal).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nonetheless – with all of the training I’ve
put in, I was hoping it would be possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So many things were different about this year’s race from
last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The biggest and most obvious was
that instead of being a great big first for me, this race was now something I
was very mentally comfortable with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last
year, I had my daughter Patty with me – which was absolutely amazing – she was
at every aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year Patty is
in England, studying, so I went solo to the race (although had the great
pleasure of meeting Aubrey Birzon-Blanda – my hotel roommate and new ultra
friend).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I arrived in Canandaigua right around 6 pm on Friday – an hour
before the pre-race dinner was to start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I checked into the hotel, unpacked, took care of some e-mails, and
headed over to the dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he did
last year, Gil put on quite a wonderful spread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was sorry to see that there weren’t nearly as many people there as
last year – apparently there were a number of expected attendees who didn’t end
up coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been looking forward to
Gil’s pre-race speech, and, probably because of how few folks were there, that
didn’t happen. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was happy to see the
entire Schubmehl family – I’d met Wanda and Bill at last year’s event, and
their daughter Stephanie at Green Lakes over the summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat with them and with Tom Butler and enjoyed
the fabulous food.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-8xtq4X1VYWy4htiyJjVzMSEyPU5EaheFbi0vv86pHPnWpBXQPK3WkWp8eKGI2VQe22B2OKOiMhBbjM62ScKBu_-Q3IH9Kgu77oMJSx1Vc7Vuiy7zdHXkeH1ABgTmB68MZmok0UGdWI/s1600/Food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-8xtq4X1VYWy4htiyJjVzMSEyPU5EaheFbi0vv86pHPnWpBXQPK3WkWp8eKGI2VQe22B2OKOiMhBbjM62ScKBu_-Q3IH9Kgu77oMJSx1Vc7Vuiy7zdHXkeH1ABgTmB68MZmok0UGdWI/s320/Food.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Heading back to the hotel, I met my roomie for the first
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I had advertised on the Can Lakes
Facebook group that I was looking for a female roommate to share hotel
expenses.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aubrey was great and we
chatted until bed… she was running the 50K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So – perhaps TMI (although anyone who has read my BPAC
report has already experienced this sort of TMI from me), but my biggest
concern about this race was really whether or not my gut would behave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d been to a conference in New Orleans a few
weeks prior, and picked up this AWFUL lower GI thing that actually grounded me
from outdoor running for a few days simply because I was terrified to be that
far away from a restroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had
appeared to be all better, but had reared its (very) ugly head again just 2
days prior to the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My untried
solution was to take a dose of Imodium about an hour before the race, and just
pray.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I didn’t want to wake up Aubrey, so pretty much as soon as I
was dressed and ready, I headed out in search of better coffee options than the
coffee-maker-in-room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the lobby I saw
a guy who looked decked out for a race, along with his family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started talking to him – his name was
Thomas – and learned that he was running his first 50 miler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stopped at Starbucks and got myself a great big cup of
strong caffeine, and headed over to race start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Much of the pre-race hanging around was spent with various trips to the
women’s room (my regular pre-race habit) and chatting with other runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I talked a bit more to Thomas, and also to
Joe Ciecierega who was also running his first 50.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s always exciting at these races to see
folks achieving new goals.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWI5-1SuRlQx6b0g_fSto2SA5kf6-KaFGVJIAvw7VSvYlG0SxFIHnAdN9xiIJKTObu14BaijXotiN1-8Ft8FLaFwX7bU-SD85hABGCy3rci_r8RkWU1pr5cmnGQXihIvU80vPBswtMWjU/s1600/PreRace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWI5-1SuRlQx6b0g_fSto2SA5kf6-KaFGVJIAvw7VSvYlG0SxFIHnAdN9xiIJKTObu14BaijXotiN1-8Ft8FLaFwX7bU-SD85hABGCy3rci_r8RkWU1pr5cmnGQXihIvU80vPBswtMWjU/s400/PreRace.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging Out Before the Race</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Soon enough, it was time to gather in front of the community
college, and start the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My early pace felt easy and right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No aches or pains – felt tapered and
strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably about a mile in, I
heard a voice next to me and saw my new friend Thomas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It looked like Thomas’ pace was almost spot
on to mine, so we ran together and talked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m generally a solo runner, and it is always pretty special when I get
a chance to run with someone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
zipped through the first aid station – 4.5 miles down, and time was
flying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At aid station number 2, 9.5
miles in, we quickly sprinted to the rest rooms, grabbed a little food and soda
and started on our way again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thomas and
I separated a bit on the Coye Road climb – I think hill pacing is a pretty
individual thing<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- but I found him next
to me again on the next big downhill past Coye. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was really pleased, early on in the race, with how I was
handling the downhills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last year the
downs started hurting my knees really early in the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year I appeared to be running them
strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thomas and I continued our
comfortable pace until we hit Bopple Hill – the first true monster climb of the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped briefly as we climbed
Bopple for Thomas to grab some gear from his crew, and then started to climb
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere along that climb, our
paces stopped matching as well, and I moved on ahead of Thomas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I didn’t have a crew with me, I now
had Thomas’ family rooting for me too, and as they drove by to wait for Thomas,
they’d honk and wave at me – which was great.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwJ7q3rlyYLJBSY6sErfBMG51gLpQuYQoFD90kqj5jNxZnD8DI6kaaqb_3W8u0cdHjTgMVlFMbviWrLSyr2Q74gAW2IJaFs26Db04qcrS13xPbXncMHsVnSrH_LE-83-RpSgyLdet1-Q/s1600/AmyThomas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwJ7q3rlyYLJBSY6sErfBMG51gLpQuYQoFD90kqj5jNxZnD8DI6kaaqb_3W8u0cdHjTgMVlFMbviWrLSyr2Q74gAW2IJaFs26Db04qcrS13xPbXncMHsVnSrH_LE-83-RpSgyLdet1-Q/s320/AmyThomas.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy and Thomas climbing up Bopple</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bopple and the subsequent downhill went smoothly and then I
hit a more rolling section of the course where I ran into Wanda Schubmehl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still felt strong, but it felt like I was
slowing down a bit. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Further along that
stretch of road I ran into Bill Schubmehl and said hi. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bill and Wanda were both easy to recognize as
they (and I) were wearing our day-glow Candlelight 12 hats. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bill looked great…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him I was feeling OK but just a little
bit bonky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere around mile 22-23,
I found myself on a road that just seemed to go on, and on, and on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t see any runners ahead of me or
behind me and realized I hadn’t seen any runners in a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started wondering whether I had somehow
gotten off course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Gil – maybe throw a
few more chalk arrows on that section…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>) I plowed on ahead, and right around mile
24 I hit the turnoff for Sunnyside – which I recognized, to my great relief.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I remember really liking the Sunnyside section last year for
a couple of reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, you hit the
halfway point of the course there; secondly, there is a 3 mile “out and back”
where you get to run into a lot of runners both ahead of you and behind
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is pretty cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once you finish the Sunnyside out and back,
you are at mile 28 or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This part was
pretty exciting for me last year, because every mile past 28 last year
represented further distance than I’d ever gone in training, and thus new
territory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year that was not the
case.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hit the 50K mark at 5 hours and 37 minutes – actually 2
minutes slower than last year, but pretty much on target.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although my 50K was marginally slower, I
could definitely feel a difference in my strength between last year and this,
in all of the post 50K miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whereas
last year I had felt the need at that point to take regular walk breaks, this
year I was still running solid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also
somewhere around 50K, the rain that had been threatening to occur all morning
finally started, and we got a bit of a downpour for something close to 30
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During my 100 miler training, I had lots of
chances to run in heavy rain including one memorable 30 miler where it rained
for pretty much the whole run (including 7 miles at the end of heavy
thunder/lightening), so I was pretty OK running in the rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least the temperature was good.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’d say another difference between last year and this year
was how quickly the miles seemed to fly by between 50K and 50 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s something about already knowing how
that distance feels that makes it seem shorter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I didn’t remember exactly where Bare Hill, the second
monster climb, started, but my recollection was somewhere in the late 30’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure enough right around the 38 mile mark,
after some gradual climbing, the real fun began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The base of the hill was a gradual enough
slope to aim for an easy run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It started
to get steeper and I was just getting ready to start walking when I saw a
familiar pink cowboy hat up walking ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure enough, there was a woman to
the left of the pink-hatted gentleman and I knew that Gary Thompson and
Katherine Fleming were just ahead, running the 50K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
yelled out to them and waved and jogged to catch up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really enjoyed their humor and company during
the brief haul up Bare Hill.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The only remarkable thing for me between the top of Bare and
the home stretch was just how much the downhills started to hurt – particularly
on my right side on my knee and hip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had plenty of energy left at that point in the race (far more than last year),
and really would have loved to have been able to just bomb down the hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, at every downhill, I was gritting my
teeth and wincing at the pain which a couple of times was so severe that it
felt like either my legs would buckle or I’d have to walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately the pain subsided at the flats and
the uphills, but I definitely think it impacted the pace I was able achieve in
that section.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was great seeing Kristen Hyer (a runner I’d met at Gil’s Candlelight
12 hour race and female Beast Of Burder winner, both winter and summer 2016) at
the 42 mile aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How powerful it
is to have someone know your name, and take care of you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Amy – what do you need? Do you need
soda?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pickles?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How are you doing Amy?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just having someone know me and ask after me
made me feel strong and ready to head out for the last 8. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Which went…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just
fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think my pace was relatively
steady at that point and I still didn’t feel like I needed to walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very different, again, from last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Particularly in the last 3 miles, where last
year I was mentally DONE,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>this race I
just kept on running – passing 2 runners in the last mile and a half of the
course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon the finish line was in
sight – and instead of feeling like it was unbearably far away, I had the
energy to pick up the pace and run through it strong, with a smile on my face. In the end, I managed to cut a little more than 5 1/2 minutes off of my 2015 race, with a finish time of 9:30 and 20 seconds or so - an average pace of 11:13, and good enough (by over 30 minutes) to qualify me for an age group silver medal.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfc5Njm9e9s9y5UkFjW1Vik1X8EdV7kM3V5T2zz9o6Br56PU-cuh71hCgJfqxn4Cvbp1Te5j3wv0OJ2g-SSXKwlpZfyDSeFFucZThPVABCBwyNWINH5gEl6FIDgDPHBEDVEBgr9g3AQI/s1600/SilverMedal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfc5Njm9e9s9y5UkFjW1Vik1X8EdV7kM3V5T2zz9o6Br56PU-cuh71hCgJfqxn4Cvbp1Te5j3wv0OJ2g-SSXKwlpZfyDSeFFucZThPVABCBwyNWINH5gEl6FIDgDPHBEDVEBgr9g3AQI/s320/SilverMedal.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Earned my age group silver medal again</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hung out a bit after I finished to chat with Wanda, and to
wait for Thomas to come in and finish his first 50-miler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPzDKNTcUpW9BXaU2NDrrmMcLwkpxNqtxih_W2tqUgbV0agHdHCWAOfEr1JPYgbZXn7RGa9yjQtyZj2CTwcUDaXF2GtZmxz8lgTh6fOEMpqlal4Le12BPnFRxD-upr8w7LW6yIMJaWY8c/s1600/Thomas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPzDKNTcUpW9BXaU2NDrrmMcLwkpxNqtxih_W2tqUgbV0agHdHCWAOfEr1JPYgbZXn7RGa9yjQtyZj2CTwcUDaXF2GtZmxz8lgTh6fOEMpqlal4Le12BPnFRxD-upr8w7LW6yIMJaWY8c/s320/Thomas.jpg" width="229" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thomas finishing his first 50-miler</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeojs7z3IXLllAq7ELSbbepzgcTvQhwJ-4LJ_Mgyb-1wwFwbjdC0QxuEuTzlS9kPj-wOigudI61EQqOtdJq7iZaM2XkkVv5vK6hSZw1TJTnY7KjpMiOq-fn5BRe1I4wyjJLW4q8j43qfY/s1600/KatherineGary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeojs7z3IXLllAq7ELSbbepzgcTvQhwJ-4LJ_Mgyb-1wwFwbjdC0QxuEuTzlS9kPj-wOigudI61EQqOtdJq7iZaM2XkkVv5vK6hSZw1TJTnY7KjpMiOq-fn5BRe1I4wyjJLW4q8j43qfY/s320/KatherineGary.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gary and Katherine running in happy!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">3 days after the race – the differences between last year
and this year are still showing themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Last year the stress on my body was such that I didn’t sleep for 2 days
after the race and my gut just stopped processing stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year that didn’t happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, I ran my regular Tuesday 9 miler and
didn’t really feel much the worse for wear – rather, it felt like I had
completed a long training run on Saturday.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Which I did…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>next
stop:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One Day at the Fair 24 Hour race
in New Jersey, November 12 2016.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div>
Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-71285763313775960232016-09-19T13:19:00.003-07:002016-09-19T13:19:30.168-07:00Free To Run Trail Marathon Race Report
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5c7HL-SJ_bQIIxrfoLmVR4We79NMUic4RdGltRXCnqtp4fQzt87ExqHddoJr9Klii6V8qDXlXCIZo-PuxKgXzpXAfsRjS5PyD9ZAeQGwAefu6vdYHOnSbnBvC_WsNoOPRrm6LVufnkw/s1600/PreRace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I signed up for this race the week after I finished my 100
miler in August.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goal of running
this 26.2 was as my last “long” training run in between my 100 miler on August 13
and my CanLakes 50 miler on October 8.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Although generally I’m pretty comfortable doing long runs solo, I have
found it adds interest and comraderie to throw in some races as training runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I picked this race because I saw it was going
to be held in the Pittsfield state forest, where I had a really good experience
running the Vegan Power 50K back in June, training for my 100.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I’m not a vegan but they let me in
anyway).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The venue for that race was
stunningly beautiful and the terrain was all runnable – not much elevation and
not horribly technical – though relatively rooty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t until after I signed up for “Free
to Run” that I saw that, even though the race was in the same park (Pittsfield
State Forest), it was NOT the same trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>THIS race had 3000 feet of elevation per 12.5 mile loop and the race was
billed as “very challenging”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Furthermore, in order to race well, you need to train on the terrain you
will be racing on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, unfortunately, I’ve
not spent much time on trails since I ran the 50K in June.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did
manage to get in 2 5-mile training runs in the 3 weeks before Free To Run – but
I had a spill on my first trail training run and suffered a nasty hamstring
pull that had made sitting excruciating for the past several weeks and which was
only just now recovering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My Ragnar buddy Ed Rudman had seen me thinking out this race
online, so we signed up together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
we signed up, he shared info about the race with some other Ragnar teammates
including my cousin and best friend Rebecca Makas, and Rebecca and our friend
Deb Ross decided to come up and do the half.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So – rather than a solo training run, I had an opportunity for a long
training run with a friend, as well as a chance to run a chunk of it with other
buddies too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This for me is special as I
spend lots and lots of time running alone.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Problem was, as the race was approaching, I was not looking
forward to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather, I was facing it
with dread and trepidation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As in “what
have I done?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Primarily I think the
issue was fear of injuring myself further, after my spill from 2 weeks
ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been getting so much joy out
of running big miles – almost all of them on roads, and I had this sick feeling
in the back of my mind that I was putting that ability in jeopardy by throwing
myself into a race I really wasn’t all that prepared for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Distance?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Terrain… not so much.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the nice things about the race was the start time –
with a 9:00 start for the half and full marathoners, I was able to get out and
back in the same day rather than drop money on lodging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I woke up only about 5 minutes earlier than
my usual 4:30 and was in the car by 5 to head out to the forest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike many previous drives to races where I
start to enjoy a sense of anticipation, I continued to feel nervousness and a
bit of dread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only bright spot in
the drive was looking forward to seeing people I love and spending the day in a
beautiful place with them.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Breakfast consisted of a bacon, egg and cheese bagel from
the Dunkin’ Donuts next to a Love’s travel stop near Pittsfield.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was wearing my Vegan Power 50K race shirt
(which I love!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s bright red and
totally badass), and the clerk at Dunkin’ looked startled as I gave her the
order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Did you say… bacon?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Damn skippy.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“But…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>your shirt….”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a race –
it was a Vegan support event but they let me in anyway.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I got to the forest with plenty of time to spare, and before
Ed, Rebecca and Deb arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I picked up
my bib and just drank coffee until they showed up a few minutes later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufb6XQn7WeJX0K5QnB-OyeOYPWaXBhuDz2fbuiqmHPrB292063Dpw6DQmUzorKz1llrm9iMeGFtyCDtYDZdS6CUHwHGrf2L0re16ByJdz9cmDNpcg9KKMW738nBuuw6H7eIZqKAgKang/s1600/EdAndRebecca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufb6XQn7WeJX0K5QnB-OyeOYPWaXBhuDz2fbuiqmHPrB292063Dpw6DQmUzorKz1llrm9iMeGFtyCDtYDZdS6CUHwHGrf2L0re16ByJdz9cmDNpcg9KKMW738nBuuw6H7eIZqKAgKang/s320/EdAndRebecca.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rebecca and Ed - pre Race</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhou5atf3Lz2Yt0XloCCS7lvnIWmGHz3NDbK02St3nxLvs20fTbMejZaWsGsPK7G0CsNe5OTfJ7vAIT-i5leFATgevOXEJzokoJD5Jo3Nu1AQxiffQMoQbsol_NdJnV2uZWTDjuc4zViZA/s1600/PreRace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhou5atf3Lz2Yt0XloCCS7lvnIWmGHz3NDbK02St3nxLvs20fTbMejZaWsGsPK7G0CsNe5OTfJ7vAIT-i5leFATgevOXEJzokoJD5Jo3Nu1AQxiffQMoQbsol_NdJnV2uZWTDjuc4zViZA/s320/PreRace.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deb, Amy, Rebecca and Ed Pre race</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The trail loops were each 12.5 miles, so in order for each
respective race to hit the required distance, an extra stretch was added on to
the beginning of the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The half
marathoners added on .6 miles, while the marathoners added on 1.2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This meant that Ed and I started out the race
more than ½ mile before Rebecca and Deb – which sort of threw our plan to run
together into disarray.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Becca and Deb
said they’d “meet us at the top of the hill”, and I think we all assumed we’d
see them shortly.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwmz65JCTYsvuiuix4jLHy8MnNy0IJlNYZe-w5PwNfxEoKbecGOCoWQNQmpYbIEUtXn0X9yfXTjldtd_T3ROo96pR-U4VK0d59E1pAjia-ygP3MyvVpzHt0lMkI5kvja-YPxnTPXUs9iE/s1600/Boulders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwmz65JCTYsvuiuix4jLHy8MnNy0IJlNYZe-w5PwNfxEoKbecGOCoWQNQmpYbIEUtXn0X9yfXTjldtd_T3ROo96pR-U4VK0d59E1pAjia-ygP3MyvVpzHt0lMkI5kvja-YPxnTPXUs9iE/s320/Boulders.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocky Terrain - new to me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TWVN3KyiQCz3LpUOvt5i5eGWKBuceEUiQER3knU6S6q_8Tt3NIwifObTPUbofECSnZwu0s__IGN8e0mPHySG7Uof5SqbTdkFDhj2eN-Un_v1V99lhC2pI4yB7uGD3qxrZqp5lbN7weM/s1600/EdOnTrail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TWVN3KyiQCz3LpUOvt5i5eGWKBuceEUiQER3knU6S6q_8Tt3NIwifObTPUbofECSnZwu0s__IGN8e0mPHySG7Uof5SqbTdkFDhj2eN-Un_v1V99lhC2pI4yB7uGD3qxrZqp5lbN7weM/s320/EdOnTrail.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed posting on the trail</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The add-on stretch was pavement, but shortly thereafter we
hit the trails and started climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
the elevation map had indicated it would be, the first stretch of the first
loop was pretty much all climb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although
the “hiking” portion of ultra running had surprised me on my first trail “run”,
after seeing the elevation map I had pretty much been mentally prepared that I’d
be doing a bit of hiking early on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still
– running is my thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So whenever we
hit portions of the trail that appeared more runnable, we started
trotting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to say I felt pretty
good about the first 3-4 miles of the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was pleased with our pace, and pleased with the sections of trail that
I found “runnable” – especially given the rocky terrain, which I was not at all
familiar with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ed and I kept thinking we’d
run into Deb and Rebecca any minute – but in fact we didn’t see them until we
hit the first aid station which I believe was somewhere between 3 and 4 miles
into the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rebecca was easily
identifiable by her bright orange compression socks.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We took advantage of the aid station goodies and soda, and
then started on our way as a group of 4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of the other racers informed us that the hill right out of the aid
station was known as the “Thrasher”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are some writings on the race website about where that name came
from, but all we knew is that it was STEEP.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was actually OK with this – I’m a pretty strong climber
when it comes to hiking, and I can power my way up most hills without too much
huffing and puffing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is to say, the
non-technical uphills are the piece of trail running I do well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a bit ahead of my buddies on this part
of the trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the best and most delightful parts of this race were
the stream of obscenities pouring from Deb’s mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deb is, simply, amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is witty, crass, astoundingly funny and
shockingly obscene when she chooses to be – and she was choosing to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She kept us in stitches for the rest of the
half marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going up the hill:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Whose F@#ING idea was this anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>F@*ING AMY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>DAMN her! “<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Funnier still was
when we got to the aid station where I got stung by a wasp and without even
thinking, I swore loudly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deb said
gently “Amy – don’t swear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Swearing
offends me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She then apologized on my
behalf to the aid station worker for my mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was Deb’s birthday and she was
waiting for the exact moment when she turned 48 (1:00) so we could take a
birthday selfie.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After we conquered the Thrasher we hid a much more level and
rolling section of trail – and even though Deb swore every time we hit another “up”
(there were plenty), in fact this section was pretty enjoyable. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It kept looking like we would break through
and be on the top of the mountain soon, and every few minutes, Rebecca would
state “Where’s my lookout?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They promised
us a lookout damnit!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was thoroughly enjoying this and feeling
pretty happy that I hadn’t fallen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running
along in a nice stretch of woods – and my left foot gets caught on a sneaky
root and stays hooked there while my butt separates just a little bit from my
leg and I can feel my hamstring pull EXACTLY where it had on my fall a few
weeks ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I swore just like
Deb, “F@#K!!”, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>terrified that I had
ruined myself for my upcoming 50 miler.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That pretty much blew my confidence for the rest of the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gingerly started running again,
the hammie yelling at me for my clumsiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Forutnately after a mile or 2, the hamstring pain started to subside significantly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We finally hit the overlook and it was as incredible as
promised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spent WAY more time there
than I would normally spend at an aid station at a race – which was fine,
because this was all about running in a beautiful place with friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were other runners up there, including Ana
Wolf – who I had met briefly as the Race Director extraordinaire of the (much
more runnable!) Vegan Power 50K, and with whom I have been Facebook Friends
ever since.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is always great to spend
time with my runner friends in person.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5jGxZ7gdCk9U7thsVuSnERUYVECZu_A2RKkQIscSdwh2oBo0_TVt10rmEClHDLUVkgzKEZO3eAQiVfYCqTzwvHlrBQBH1fKgGJriNzl3tXsiOesXdpXQuggWhFujNbZkEMlv1RFMZ4z4/s1600/TopOfMtn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5jGxZ7gdCk9U7thsVuSnERUYVECZu_A2RKkQIscSdwh2oBo0_TVt10rmEClHDLUVkgzKEZO3eAQiVfYCqTzwvHlrBQBH1fKgGJriNzl3tXsiOesXdpXQuggWhFujNbZkEMlv1RFMZ4z4/s320/TopOfMtn.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deb, Rebecca, Amy and Ed</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYa-87yDHHJAKRu0GcHvD1KpI7GylmxgHDW3u2sIzzLYgRT9Hk1qOdOv2nQjd5fUVZSul7WN5lXSBjyujhwLNKDtdV58zCvLV_sylUdSlhshYtgtJyeUVolLX5tvA_K_PZMGdZ9d66q8/s1600/AmyAndAna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYa-87yDHHJAKRu0GcHvD1KpI7GylmxgHDW3u2sIzzLYgRT9Hk1qOdOv2nQjd5fUVZSul7WN5lXSBjyujhwLNKDtdV58zCvLV_sylUdSlhshYtgtJyeUVolLX5tvA_K_PZMGdZ9d66q8/s320/AmyAndAna.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting my friend Ana on top of the world</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was also up on the ridge where I got stung by the wasp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t even see it coming but all of a sudden
my arm was on fire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Made sense that it
was a yellow jacket – the aid station workers said they were hanging all around
the food table all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swore loudly
(chastised gently by Deb), and hoped that today wouldn’t be the day I’d develop
any sort of sting allergy.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fortunately there was no need for epi-pens as we progressed
down along our way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After our highly
enjoyable vista stop, we headed back into the woods for the last 5 miles for
Deb and Rebecca, and that last 18 for Ed and I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The next 3 miles was unremarkable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was one more aid station after the vista, where the aid station
volunteers said “the rest is easy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
is just one more little up hill, and then no more single track – just downhill
the rest of the way.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Easy my ass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(My
sore, pulled, ACHING ass!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one thing
they were right about was the downhill part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh boy was it downhill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leaf
slippery, rock slidingly, impossible footingly downhill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not too far from where we started our
descent, I went down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My goal going into
this race was to stay upright and not get injured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This fall was pretty disheartening – again because
I had gone into this as a training run for a 50-mile road race – and what good
is a training run if you come out of it unable to run?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After I got up from my tumble, I was much
more cautious on the remaining downhill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Deb and Rebecca hopped down it like billy goats, while Ed was a bit more
cautious. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I brought up the rear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some minutes later, we saw a clearing up
ahead, and there we were – Deb and Rebecca done with their race, and Ed and I
at the halfway mark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was also pretty
cool that our friend Sharon – another Ragnar teammate, had come to watch Deb
and Becca finish and to cheer Ed and I on!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Again we spent a bit more time at the aid station than I would
normally do – and we headed out on lap 2 – with Ana and Marie right behind us.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was pretty clear on lap 2 that most of our productive “running”
was done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The uphill seemed “uppier”,
and EVERYTHING seemed rockier and rootier again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point I had 2 remaining goals – not to
fall again, and not to DNF – and a not very strong but still present goal of
trying to finish in less than 8 hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whereas on our first loop we had plenty of miles that were
anywhere from 13-17 minute miles, on the second loop we were happy with
anything under 20.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And believe it or
not, in those sections where we were hitting 18 – we were actually doing a bit
of running.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So here is the thing that gets me about trails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deb said it just right as we were hiking up
the Thrasher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said “I like to RUN
trails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t like to hike to get to
my run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If running is your drug, then
this part doesn’t do it”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes – that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m into this thing for the run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So on the parts where, for whatever reason, I
can’t comfortably run – it feels like I’m either cheating, or failing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the fact that I KNOW that except for
the top runners in these races, pretty much everyone is doing a bit of
hiking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some more than others.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But running is my drug – and, well, I was not doing that
much of it on loop 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But neither was I
falling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What WAS happening was my quads
were getting more and more angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although it had seemed like a second loop would be take
forever, in fact the time flew by – as it often does on these things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ed and I talked about anything and everything
– and he jazzed things up a bit by singing a bit of Bruce (he’d just been to a
concert).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point we were merrily
belting out the song they sing in the Stripes marching scene – “There she was
just a walkin’ down the street, singing Doowa Diddie Diddie Dum Diddie Do…”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I channeled my inner Deb when we got to the last aid station
– my recollection had been that it was just a bit over a mile to the finish
from there (which was what my GPS was telling me), but when the aid station
volunteers indicted it was 2 hours – F#@K came flying out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wanted to be done and go home and lick
my wounds.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Down the rocky, leafy descent we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On this last section, there was pretty much
no running this time around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, until
we were maybe a half a mile before the end, when a couple that had been a ways
behind us appeared to be catching up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
knew I wasn’t doing well in this race, but I wanted to at least keep any lead I
had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So – rocks be damned – I was
running the rest, with Ed right along beside me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We managed to run in approximately 30 seconds
to a minute in front of the 2 folks behind us – which put me 22 out of 30
finishers with a finish time of 8:03.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Almost twice as long as my best marathon, and only 7 minutes faster than
my first 50K trail – which was ALSO a tough course, with about as much
elevation as this one, where I was the 2<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">nd</span></sup> woman in.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVHBSy3vrO9x-UvDs8v2-GWJNSK-8TQSCEY6UHXE9KDlUq_GFC8IaY-PlSBY_5VfRIIm_Zk4V035bZgO2VuOaCoCp0bmb_jEVOSkOBf_bSY6qYpOlOa_UtIGAEPaYOT43zWPG4Z_Wba0/s1600/AmyAndEdAtEnd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVHBSy3vrO9x-UvDs8v2-GWJNSK-8TQSCEY6UHXE9KDlUq_GFC8IaY-PlSBY_5VfRIIm_Zk4V035bZgO2VuOaCoCp0bmb_jEVOSkOBf_bSY6qYpOlOa_UtIGAEPaYOT43zWPG4Z_Wba0/s400/AmyAndEdAtEnd.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well damn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What just
happened?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And here is where the Monday morning quarterbacking comes
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My buddy Rich tells me “ya gotta
learn to not be so hard on yourself”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
still – I’ve worked pretty hard at this ultra-running thing in the past year –
and so a finish time of 8:03 at the very least makes me think “how could I have
done better”? </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So number 1:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Train
for the terrain, dumbass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">OK – yeah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So why in
hell would I expect to do at all well when this wasn’t what I trained for?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Isn’t what I AM CURRENTLY training for?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is, in fact, an almost entirely new thing for
me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was my 4<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> trail “race”,
and even for my other ones I didn’t have THAT much more trail running under my
belt – but at the very least, before my 50K, I’d gotten in 3 or 4 solid 8-10
mile trail runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one – next to
nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, although I’d gotten some
root practice on both training runs and previous races, really NOTHING in my
past running career prepared me for the kind of rocky terrain that was
everpresent on this course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Number 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
overly cautious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On previous races – despite trips and falls (I’ve had at
least 1 on every trail race – hell, almost every trail RUN I’ve done..), I
managed to get back up and get in the groove again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But because of my fall weeks earlier that had
ended up giving me pain for weeks, I was so worried about injuring myself that
I didn’t allow myself to get back going again.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Number 3 – This wasn’t “THE” race. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So yeah – it definitely makes a difference in motivation
level if you are deliberately going into a race as a training run rather than
to “race” it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Number 4- Probably 10-15 minutes lost at aid stations.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I guess those are mostly the things that could have been
opportunities for improvement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Still – it was humbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I finished that second loop, my legs were literally shaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were jelly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that was after HIKING most of the second
loop – not much running in that go-round at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was used to being able to finish 26 miles
before breakfast and then spending the rest of the day cleaning my house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This 8 hour jelly-leg crap was a whole new
humbling gig for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t fathom
how anyone had done 4 loops on that course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(And the lead person only took an hour more for the 50 that I took for
my marathon!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>HE wasn’t hiking up those
hills, for sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was running them!).</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clearly, IF I want to improve at this particular type of
race, there needs to be some lots of trail specific training thrown in.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although I spent my drive home and most of the rest of the afternoon
and evening growling at the whole concept of trails, by the next day I was
feeling a bit more like I might consider getting back out there and trying to
conquer them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were plenty of
moments in the race that were in fact pure perfection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Particularly in the first loop, before
pulling my hamstring, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>running smoothly
and comfortably over the gentle hill portion of the course, my buddies behind
me on an incredibly beautiful day in a stunning venue – well, it just can’t get
any better than that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the view from
the top?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Priceless.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I think I’ll wait for after my 50….</span></div>
Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-18948254753705620452016-09-16T13:20:00.001-07:002016-09-16T13:20:19.827-07:00After the Race… my post 100-mile journey
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Immediate Post Race</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I finished my race at 11:23 am on Sunday morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My biggest (and only real) race injury was
chafing – the worst was something that really isn’t fit for print – which I
became acutely aware of at a pee-break around mile 83.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Sen may have heard my agonized cry from the
porto-potty)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dear lord it was so bad I
almost passed out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second worst chafing
was belly button (I get this a lot – the drawstrings from my shorts rub across
my tummy and apparently are really irritating), and some spots on my back
rubbed pretty raw from my hydration pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And, I had this super weird nasty and painful raised bright red welt on
my right wrist that I had felt forming for the first 16 hours of the race when
I wore Maria’s loaned GPS as a spare on my RIGHT wrist (not used to wearing a
GPS watch), while waiting for my primary GPS on my left wrist to run out of
battery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The watch kept kind of banging
around and rubbing against the bone, and at the end of the race it was this
huge angry big red welt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most of these injuries were alleviated pretty quickly by
post-race shower and application of Aquaphor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The drive home was manageable –<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>it was so amazing that my parents and Patty had come to support me – and
an added benefit was that I got to just melt into the front seat, nibble
tiredly at my Pop Tart (thanks Patty!), and just keep stretching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sitting after a race is, ironically, hugely
uncomfortable as I get this awful sciatica sort of like a toothache in my ass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped for food at an Arby’s about an
hour into the ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As is often the
case, and also ironically, I still wasn’t even very hungry at that point and
not much sounded good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended up with a
vanilla milkshake and 4 mozzarella sticks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Which was pretty much perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was pretty funny – there were 2 different people – one on
line at Arby’s and another walking into the rest area, that I IMMEDIATELY could
tell they had just finished the 100 miler – because the way they were walking
looked just like the way I was walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
exchanged tired and happy hello’s as we hobbled around Arby’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lunch stop was a great stretching
opportunity which kept me from getting too locked up on the drive home – and even
when I got home I was moving around moderately comfortably.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second major recovery aid was the Epsom
Salts bath I had before dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only
just recently have I discovered the miraculous healing powers of Epsom
Salts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With regard to post-race
recovery, it 1) immediately reduced inflammation and irritation from chafing,
2) allowed my tired muscles to re-absorb magnesium, easing the sort of
neuropathic pain that had previously come after long races, and 3) also likely
due to magnesium absorption, drastically improved my ability to sleep after a
long race (you’d think that would be easy, but after my first 50 miler I couldn’t
sleep for 2 days).</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Post Race Phase 2 –
Recovery</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">OK – well, I have to admit, I just kind of skipped this
phase all together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On Monday I felt…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Really almost absolutely fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
huge residual stiffness – went on a long walk with Matthew at lunchtime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No issues going up and down stairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just threw in gentle stretching any time
the opportunity presented itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Monday
is normally a rest day anyway on my training schedule.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tuesday is not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tuesday is a running day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I
ran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t sure if I SHOULD run – but
I knew I was going to give it a try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
pulled on my beautiful and shockingly pink shoes and I set out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And oh my god it felt like I was FLYING.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact – I was not flying – I was running 12
minute miles – which is 1.5 to 2 minutes slower than my normal training
pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it FELT like flying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(My last miles on my hundred had been 16-17
minutes).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More importantly – everything felt
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No aches, no pains, no
stiffness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was just running and
feeling great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stopped at 6
miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On Wednesday I went for 9.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thursday I got in 8.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Friday was a rest day, and then I did a 15/12
back to back between Saturday and Sunday, topping out my first post-100 mile
race week with 50 miles of training.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Post race week 2 I got in 60 miles, and post race week 3 I hit 80.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Huh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How about
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had googled “post-100 mile
recovery”, and found some suggestions like taking the first week entirely off,
and then not running any more than an hour for something like 6 weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, I didn’t look this up until my 2<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">nd</span></sup>
or 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> recovery week, so clearly that ship had sailed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And was not going to be happening in any
case. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Which is not to say I was not respecting my body’s needs…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The big thing about my post race early weeks –
up to and including now – is that for almost every run except my weekly tempo
run, I ran at whatever pace my body wanted to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That, essentially was my recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Letting myself run 11’s or 11:30’s that first
couple of weeks, because that was what was comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Letting myself run how my body wanted to run,
rather than how my head wanted to run.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How very freeing, and intoxicating!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running, in a way that just felt joyful and
amazing – with no competitive pressure from my brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had held off on signing up for any more races until after
I finished my 100 – mostly because I wasn’t sure how I’d like that distance and
I figured completing it would affect what I wanted to do next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was probably only 1 or 2 days after the
race that I knew I needed an immediate new goal, and I pressed the button to do
CanLakes 50 miler again in October.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With a 50 miler on the horizon (about 7 weeks out from my
100), I essentially wanted to be able to ramp back up to get in a couple of
heavier mileage weeks in before having to taper again 2-3 weeks out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
also ended up signing up for a trail marathon (tomorrow! – 9/17) as a training
run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which meant I needed to get in some
trail miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (The cool thing about tomorrow is that I will have running friends there - my Ragnar teammate Ed will be running the full with me, and teammate Deb and cousin Rebecca are running the half. I almost NEVER have anyone to run (hike) with!</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A short note on
trails</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So me and trails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still an evolving relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On my first evening trail run, I was jogging along having a fabulous time
when at mile 4 (out of 5), I caught my foot on a root and went sprawling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Prior to hitting the ground, I felt
something<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>bad happen where my left
hamstring connected to my left glute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bad enough that I cried out as I went down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well – unless something is broken, when you
go down, the only thing to do is to get back up and run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On all previous falls (I’ve had a few on
trails by now), I’ve been able to run out any residual soreness pretty
quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although the intensity of the
pain went away and I could finish my run, it was clear by the end of the run
that something had been pulled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was verified when I went to bed that
night and just could not, for the life of me, find a position that was
comfortable for my hip.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The good news is, the pull didn’t impact me at all on my run
the next day – or really any subsequent runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The bad news is that it pretty much bothered me almost all of the time
when I WASN’T running – most specifically when I was sitting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which really just felt like I had a constant
awful toothache in my ass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Driving was excruciating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was nervous the following week to get back
out on the trail and do it again – but that second run went fine (if VERY slow
because I was being so cautious), and in fact everything felt better after
hopping over roots for 5 miles.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Gradually over the last couple of weeks the injury has
improved, just in time for my trail marathon tomorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had chosen to do that as a training run,
but now am really just keeping my fingers crossed that I don’t fall and hurt
myself before my true running love – my road ultra in October.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>what’s next?</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So this journey is all about pushing limits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finished my 100 miler which was a huge goal
for me, and I finished it strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
the initial glow, there is always that post race depression/quandary – OK – so
I did this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s next?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve seen someone on Trail and Ultra Running post about
continuing to push limits, waiting to be transformed or pushed to the edge -
and each time they hit a new goal they found 1) they could do it, and 2) it
didn’t transform them in the way they had envisioned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In some ways the post race
depression/adjustment is like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
work so long and so hard toward a specific goal – it becomes this great big
life changing event in your head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
least, the new goals and the Epic goals do… (first marathon, first triathlon,
first half ironman, first full IM, first 50 miler, first 100).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each of these was huge for me in terms of working
toward something that felt really big.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
problem with completing something big is, if you want a new stretch goal, it
has to be…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>bigger.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">New Goals – BIG mileage,
multi-days?</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Early on in the calendar year, I had hoped to get in 2000
miles of running this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hit that
mark just before the end of August.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
became apparent that 3000 was within the realm of possibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started re-thinking my training.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For pretty much the entire year, I’ve been running 5 days a
week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was all based on the original
training plan I had used for my first 50 miler and then the one I used for my
100 – both plans called for runs Tues, Wed and Thurs, with back to back long
runs on Saturday and Sunday, taking Monday and Friday off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My normal schedule had been to throw in an
evening bike ride on my trainer on Tuesday nights (making that the only “double”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>workout day), and to swim on Friday mornings,
so that only Monday was a true “rest” day where I wasn’t doing anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When 3000 became a possibility, I started
thinking about ways to get in a little bit more mileage – like swapping out my
Tuesday evening bike and my Saturday swims for a run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This very easily added 10-15 miles per
week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for the first couple of
Tuesdays, I used that to get in a short trail run.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So – here I am, 3 ½ months left in the year, hopefully about
to pull off an 85 mile week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has come
as an astounding discovery to me that I can add on 2 more runs per week and
that by doing so, I actually feel stronger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In the last couple of days, my pace for my morning 10 miler has inched
back closer from my 11 minute miles just post 100 to 10 minute miles for many
of my training runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And these are easy
runs – running at the pace my body wants to run – not pushing it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is speaking to me of the benefit of the
low heart rate training (i.e., almost all of my training is in zone 2).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, I’m throwing in almost a weekly tempo
run where I run 3 miles (out of a 5 mile workout) at a pretty aggressive speed
for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been really happy with what
I’ve been able to achieve with those.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This week’s speed run was actually new territory in that I used my
mid-week evening run (where I had already run 10 miles in the morning) as a speed
workout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both that evening run as well
as the 10 miles I threw in the next morning were great.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m generally also aiming to get in at least
1 aggressive hill workout per week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In terms of other races on the horizon, I’m aiming for a 24
hour in November, possibly a return to Beast of Burden 100 for the winter
version in January, and then hopefully take a stab at my first multi-day at 3
Days at the Fair in the spring.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m going to have to taper soon because I really do want to
go into CanLakes rested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I have
the base…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so now I just have to get into
the race without hurting myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tapering, though, that’s going to be routh.</span></div>
Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-72673688834066978382016-08-15T16:45:00.002-07:002016-08-17T09:31:49.302-07:00100 miles of love - Summer Beast of Burden 2016<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Ever since about the day after I successfully completed my
first 50-miler last October, the idea of attempt 100 miles has been in the back
of my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pretty much knew that
would be my “A” goal for 2016, and when I ran the Winter Beast of Burden 25 miler
option in January, I decided that would be the venue for my first 100 during
the summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I followed the Ultraladies 100 miler training plan which
basically brought me up to several back to back weekends of 30 miles on
Saturday and 20 on Sunday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bolstered
the plan with a number of races thrown in, just for the comraderie and training
value, including the Cowtown Ultramarathon 50K (road) in Dallas in February, my
first trail 50K at NJ Ultrafest on April 2, my first 6 hour race at the end of
April at the Buffalo Distance Classic (BPAC) where I got in a total of 36
training miles (although only 34 of them counted towards my race time), Ragnar
Cape Cod in May, and the Cooperstown marathon and Vegan Power 50K in June (I’m not
a Vegan but they let me in anyway!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
final training race was Gil Egils’ wonderful inauguration of the Candlelight 12
hour 3 weeks prior to the race, where I got in 42 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, of course, there was my fabulous week of
Boat Running on our European cruise – where I was afraid I’d not be able to hit
my training plan but in fact ended up exceeding it, getting in a total of 80
miles that week on the boat track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
managed to avoid injury and burnout, and felt as ready for the race as I could possibly
be.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The week prior to the race, the weather forecast started
coming in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The closer the race got, the
more alarming the forecast became.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
started out with a low in the 60’s and a high in the low to mid-80’s with a
chance of showers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By Thursday when the
48 hour forecast was available, it was up to a high of 87, lots of humidity,
and likelihood of thunderstorms (some “severe”) pretty much for the entire
timeline of the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t worried
about running in the rain – I had some significant practice running up to 30
miles in solid rain during training – but it did add some logistical challenges
for packing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being worried about potential
blisters running in wet shoes and socks, I packed 4 pairs of shoes and 3 pairs
of inserts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, as chafing has been
pretty much my most troublesome race injury, particularly in hot humid and
rainy weather, I needed to pack race tops that were cool enough for a hot race
in the high 80’s (read sleeveless), that were tight enough to avoid chafing, and
that covered the portion of my back that would have my race pack (the one time
I ran in a “racer-back” top in rain, my pack rubbed my back raw).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were only a few options that fit the
bill, with my final decision for “primary” outfit being one of my triathlon
suits – which had the advantage of being skin tight, sleeveless and well suited
to wet conditions since they are made to swim in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, again, with the likelihood of rain
for almost all of the race, I packed enough outfits that I could change
multiple times, if necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjoStnsnZHeRr_qrCQ5ZGawi8mmyOmAPG5-KkO-HFENOXTfx4Vq18ACAHz7hUpECu1zO-CAJ-xU_g_Gn7-n-sQZC45oZi9Hy-sQsZXR-5EJE1qC0WrX6SGKhiZtFe1dyuOrP-BFAuFjbk/s1600/RacePacking1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjoStnsnZHeRr_qrCQ5ZGawi8mmyOmAPG5-KkO-HFENOXTfx4Vq18ACAHz7hUpECu1zO-CAJ-xU_g_Gn7-n-sQZC45oZi9Hy-sQsZXR-5EJE1qC0WrX6SGKhiZtFe1dyuOrP-BFAuFjbk/s320/RacePacking1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main aid station supplies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNhTKbOrB4fd-IMvNdDRdqQTM9xVHkOGbNNWpDT7_2QV6Y4OtXyQkyjfBV_d8SnOVh4rPs5jhdo8wmGkEc1wMpRJO2PHDmrgzTClXySqK1RPCX5g9kworJzmAQ0nE4qRNTOT8i5s_Ex4/s1600/DropBag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNhTKbOrB4fd-IMvNdDRdqQTM9xVHkOGbNNWpDT7_2QV6Y4OtXyQkyjfBV_d8SnOVh4rPs5jhdo8wmGkEc1wMpRJO2PHDmrgzTClXySqK1RPCX5g9kworJzmAQ0nE4qRNTOT8i5s_Ex4/s320/DropBag.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">12.5 Mile drop bag stash</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I was thrilled that my parents and daughter were willing to
go out to the race with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pretty
much never have support at shorter events, but as this was my first 100 miler,
it was a big deal emotionally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I left
work at noon on Friday and we headed out to Buffalo, found a fabulous restaurant
via Trip Advisor reviews, and settled in for the night.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2usZmyJkJrVJL5CZZQe8hgUKuBjHH7AH7EbfCD-gbfROj16k9GOCcymLRlD3bloe-MTbwREWbtUw_tUm8ZAKVyJShsiqBwe7Wef3BosvjwPjvkSM1KRxKs1t7GXiBO4FGuuJbEcRnCU/s1600/FamilyDinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2usZmyJkJrVJL5CZZQe8hgUKuBjHH7AH7EbfCD-gbfROj16k9GOCcymLRlD3bloe-MTbwREWbtUw_tUm8ZAKVyJShsiqBwe7Wef3BosvjwPjvkSM1KRxKs1t7GXiBO4FGuuJbEcRnCU/s320/FamilyDinner.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner the night before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I had foolishly booked a hotel via Expedia and had not looked
closely enough at the map.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a bit
dismayed to find out that the hotel I picked when I searched for hotels “in or
near” Lockport ended up being 35-40 minutes away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This wasn’t so much of a problem for me,
since once I got to the race I wouldn’t be going back to the hotel – but I felt
badly for my family and for my pacer Sen and his wife, who were booked at the
same hotel, who would not actually be able to easily pop back and forth from
the race venue to the hotel if they needed anything.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">As usual, I did not sleep particularly well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t nervous per se… but I’d say I was on
edge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the week before the race, I’d
pretty much just wanted to get this thing started – and taper didn’t help that
feeling at all!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">When I woke up Saturday morning, I turned on the news and
weather report and saw that the nighttime “low” had been “historically” high –
so it was already 78 degrees at 5:30 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Game on.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Breakfast was the complimentary hot breakfast provided by
the hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since race start wasn’t until
10am, we had plenty of time for coffee, food and set-up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t want to be too full – but also
wanted to eat enough to carry me through for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended up eating an egg and 2 Belgian
waffles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turned out it was really
good I went for that second waffle… </span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Getting to the race start was a little less than smooth, as
I had used the wrong address from the race web page and we found ourselves in
the middle of a neighborhood that was clearly not the race start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank goodness for smartphones – we looked up
the correct address and got there minutes later with plenty of time to
spare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I registered, picked up my stuff,
and helped my dad set up “The Race Palace” – a new tent/screenhouse I had
bought so my family would avoid both sweltering and getting drenched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8t8GOCra43KPrvZZKB5-ElGWnbM1m2jkVAiCwXWNmYzb6BDhVvjTa2-Nyn_q7hm0KmpkOqzW8wtLK_wAC9tcSJakQKIMt2NesEdLsfL7doFctqilBNg16P9VZ3QgR_PIhNeGOZ-O4P8/s1600/TheRacePalace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8t8GOCra43KPrvZZKB5-ElGWnbM1m2jkVAiCwXWNmYzb6BDhVvjTa2-Nyn_q7hm0KmpkOqzW8wtLK_wAC9tcSJakQKIMt2NesEdLsfL7doFctqilBNg16P9VZ3QgR_PIhNeGOZ-O4P8/s320/TheRacePalace.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The race palace and my family<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">There were a number of folks I was on the lookout for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My new amazing friend Mary Skelton DeSilva
who was running the 25, and Katherine Fleming…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had met both Sarah Smith Hardy and Sofia Kim online – both running
their first 50.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I managed to find all of
them before the race start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURFPickmvr1o5uJd9mGxKDygsjJZD6P6gprXkIx6Dmx5zW6yRD0PYGB62iKi1ffzPxrCGcCLYnEKRUevzeuGAwEr7gPNL6XRK_q7SQEzwGxEJayto-Kqq-jqapNMn8pFkQw03BveQeqI/s1600/PreRace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURFPickmvr1o5uJd9mGxKDygsjJZD6P6gprXkIx6Dmx5zW6yRD0PYGB62iKi1ffzPxrCGcCLYnEKRUevzeuGAwEr7gPNL6XRK_q7SQEzwGxEJayto-Kqq-jqapNMn8pFkQw03BveQeqI/s320/PreRace.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me before the race</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">A few minutes before the start, the music started playing
loudly – AC/DC’s Hell’s Bells – doing great things to get me all pumped up to
run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then, JUST before the race
started, of course, they put on the Stone’s Beast of Burden – and off we went.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I started the race running with Sofia – my new pal up from
NY, running her first 50.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We started at
a super easy pace – checking my watch, we were doing about 11 minute miles,
consistently, for the first 4 or 5 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somewhere around the 45 minute mark, we separated so we could each
better run our comfortable pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
hot out – but to me it didn’t feel uncomfortably hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a bit of a breeze and a bit of cloud cover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I wasn’t so happy about, though, was how
my feet and right hip felt early on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which
is to say, both started to hurt early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And, even though it didn’t feel hot per se, it didn’t feel exactly good
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first 10 miles felt pretty
strong and good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then things started
to deteriorate.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFQwH5eYaC18zr4ZgbN6QYG_ycdosrNzvhJvxmSvpRxwq9UptCZvsqk-MvK4FV5_HvDFyFliJzUWf-AoXoBy3fejseCS9WwpwfveyWhW3yS5G6HiBMomzyTlRb5kIW0cgQpvhyZoUmLk/s1600/Mile12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFQwH5eYaC18zr4ZgbN6QYG_ycdosrNzvhJvxmSvpRxwq9UptCZvsqk-MvK4FV5_HvDFyFliJzUWf-AoXoBy3fejseCS9WwpwfveyWhW3yS5G6HiBMomzyTlRb5kIW0cgQpvhyZoUmLk/s320/Mile12.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sucking down liquid at 12.5 miles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">What I was noticing in a big way was just how different this
run felt than a lot of my 30 mile training runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had pretty regularly been hitting the 25
mile mark at about 4:25-4:30 and that was running at a pace I felt was pretty
easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> This run so far was feeling like I was running through deep water. What's more, my gut was acting up and I wasn't able to really eat much of anything except Coke and Ginger Ale. The</span> last 3 miles of this 25 I’d say I
really had to fight for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had started
to build in 1 minute walk breaks early on in the race, at the advice of another
ultra running who suggested that for a flat 100, I should do so sort of
mechanically – just because there wouldn’t be hills to tell me when to walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was doing the walk breaks perhaps every 20
minutes or so at first, which felt fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But the last 3 miles of the 25, less and less time elapsed between each
walk break and I truly didn’t know whether I’d be able to continue the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt pretty much like I had been
hit by a Mack truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hit 25 miles at
the 5 hour mark, which was pretty much 30 minutes slower than I would have
predicted, and I hit it feeling pretty bad. I found out later that the temperature had hit 93 degrees as I was passing through the Gasport Aid station. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My normal aid station strategy is to move through it as
quickly as possible – but I knew at this point I needed to get myself back in
shape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents and my daughter Patty
were hovering closely, trying to figure out what I needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was feeling pretty fuzzy but managed to
tell them to get me gingerale and then more gingerale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I changed my shoes because my feet were definitely
bothering me a bit, and lay down on my back with my feet up while my mom poured
water over my face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a minute or so
I was able to get back up and figured I really needed to get back on the
course.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Back out for my second 25, I started a slow run, and decided
that my best strategy was to avoid walk breaks for as long as I could – because
mentally, when I took the breaks, it was hard each time to get started again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a good strategy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was 3:10 in the afternoon, so even though
it was still hot, I knew it was going to cool down pretty soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And once I was running again, I managed to keep
a run for miles before I took another walk break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d say that was sort of mentally the
turnaround point in the race where I felt like I was feeling better and would
be able to keep going. Nonetheless, there was still a lot of heat to beat - even though evening was approaching. I continued to take more time at the aid stations than I normally would have just trying to cool off. The volunteers were incredible - they would fill my hat up with ice, which I then proceeded to dunk my face and head into, and ultimately put down my suit just to get my temp down. Still, I couldn't eat much of anything. A couple of grapes, an orange slice, and 2 or 3 Pringles was about all I could choke down. It seemed like anything I ate just caused my gut to clench up in a knot.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I was due to meet my first pacer, Allison Ossipovitch, at
the aid station in Middleport – the 37.5 mile mark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a couple hundred feet before the aid
station, on the side of the path I could see Allison waving. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With her were my parents, my daughter Patty,
and pacer #3 – Sen, and his wife (whom I had never met).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a crew waiting for me!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Allison took such wonderful care of me at the aid
station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though I was feeling much
better than I had a 25, I think my family was still worried – but Allison knew
what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She took my pack off and
filled it with ice and water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I handed
my iPod to Patty, figuring I didn’t need music anymore now that I had
company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And off we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7k_HR3IjlCEai9hd226-xNzygTsRP3Xp1K7gDrTdj6af4uemQqka_YaXUz5GTyCzyNKNW_z0HBfnuUlczo4Xtp4HTG7qdDlZXqzh_qWHLVJf0ElH3_okFzlK5V-1vlJ4SIgJZdW1WNQ0/s1600/AmyAllisonSettingOffCrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7k_HR3IjlCEai9hd226-xNzygTsRP3Xp1K7gDrTdj6af4uemQqka_YaXUz5GTyCzyNKNW_z0HBfnuUlczo4Xtp4HTG7qdDlZXqzh_qWHLVJf0ElH3_okFzlK5V-1vlJ4SIgJZdW1WNQ0/s320/AmyAllisonSettingOffCrop.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting off with Allison</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I was getting pretty thirsty, and with my gut issues was
having a really hard time drinking much water – so getting enough liquid
outside of the aid stations was tricky. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My folks had gotten me Coconut water, which
was perfect – but was, by now, also gone. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Allison got in touch with my parents who met
us 3 miles before the 50 mile mark to get me more coconut water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere in there it had gotten dark, so we
were now wearing our headlamps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Throughout that 12.5 miles, Allison just kept checking in, asking how my
stomach was, mothering me and keeping me on task.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuhutPuj-Cw-FzL9dbhv5Bm0AzDg62FBb0pN0eQhVCt1ap6ULCscA8CG8XFUWQx4M_liZmMiZ4FKmqjqmedc_eiZyvCLLtjBAnNaWfH2W4S52T_HzucQvL0Vyntv7Fkci2xTk75LILUc/s1600/AmyAllison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuhutPuj-Cw-FzL9dbhv5Bm0AzDg62FBb0pN0eQhVCt1ap6ULCscA8CG8XFUWQx4M_liZmMiZ4FKmqjqmedc_eiZyvCLLtjBAnNaWfH2W4S52T_HzucQvL0Vyntv7Fkci2xTk75LILUc/s320/AmyAllison.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finishing the 50 with Allison</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Coming in to 50, I saw pacer #2 – Russell Muff, along with
his wife and kids who had come to see him off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So – this is how amazing runners are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have met Russ exactly once before in my life, at the CanLakes 50
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were Facebook friends because
of CanLakes, and had one extra bond which was that we had both raised money for
the same team (NF Endurance) in racing an Ironman – AND, we had both done the
same Mont Tremblant ironman (his was one year after mine).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At CanLakes, we had run together for maybe a
mile before he took off at his own pace, and then I saw him at the end of that
race for about 10 minutes as we were both recovering from our first 50 miler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, before he offered to pace me, Russ and I had spent approximately 20 minutes
together - ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he rearranged his
work schedule and came to run with me for 25 miles at night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And his beautiful family came too.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1Cs5oOn2h4J5Zyz__iINKsLTpOyJUjzW-ktJ_fAdlVkH6OapGXmT5HjBngBgK4X3pBi7pPZ5H17zNA1-yCVOQWOnBXSeK_MIHjbw5Y9BbAK7gjjPPy9siUf3fed2l9AMzXpUAmvNQBo/s1600/RussAndFam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1Cs5oOn2h4J5Zyz__iINKsLTpOyJUjzW-ktJ_fAdlVkH6OapGXmT5HjBngBgK4X3pBi7pPZ5H17zNA1-yCVOQWOnBXSeK_MIHjbw5Y9BbAK7gjjPPy9siUf3fed2l9AMzXpUAmvNQBo/s320/RussAndFam.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Russ and his kids</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My daughter had wondered whether I would find it
uncomfortable running with someone I really didn’t know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it wasn’t remotely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Russ took great care of me too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he were running this 25 miles on his own,
I’m betting his normal pace would have been somewhere in the 8-9 minute mile
range.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the amazing thing to me was,
Russ pushed me to keep the pace that I could realistically keep at that point
in time – which was about 14-15 minute miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The thing about that 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> lap was, that every step
was new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The longest I’d ever run before
was 50 miles, so everything beyond that was an unknown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Knowing how completely spent I had been after
my first 50 miler, feeling like I couldn’t go another step, I thought it was
entirely possible I’d have to walk the last 50 miles of my race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In fact, I felt completely spent after THIS 50 miles - pretty much exactly the same as I felt after my first 50 in October. Maybe worse. So on this 3rd lap, </span>I was thrilled to find that the majority of
time I was actually able to run, even though starting the loop, it didn't feel like anything I could possibly do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran slowly, but I
ran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, because it was now dark and
getting cooler, I started feeling significantly better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Russ noted that as we moved along from 50-75
I was actually starting to run stronger again.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I was excited each time I hit a new milestone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>62 miles was a big deal because it was
100K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>70 miles put me into a new
decade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then we were at 75, where
Russ handed me off to Sen.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Sen is a Ragnar Relay teammate from my Cape Cod Ragnar team –
the Lactic Acid Droppers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(LADS).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the LADS live in the West Hartford,
CT area – I met them for the first time when I had joined that team with my
West Hartford cousin, who knew a couple of those runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As happens at Ragnar, the team got really
close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One, Ed, even got the team name
tattooed on his forearm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the
LADs go for lots of regular runs together, and I’m jealous of that because I
live 3 hours away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Sen and his wife
drove 7 hours from Connecticut so that he could run my last 25 miles with me.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I was figuring on 8 hours for my last 25 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was from a mental calculation that if we
walked just a little under 20 minute miles for the whole 25, we could finish it
in 8.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really wasn’t thinking I had too
much run left in me at that point.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Surprise!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, even
though I was done running, about a mile after Sen and I took off at a walk, I
said I’d try some running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turned out
I had a bit of run left in me after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">We experimented a bit with ratios.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First I’d try running for a couple of minutes
and then walking for a couple of minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That was hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My next idea was
to run for 1 minute, walk for 3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
was not a good idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had thought it
would be better mentally to know I was only running for 1 minute, but in fact
the 2 bad things about it were:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1) With 1 minute run stretches, I
wasn’t running long enough to get in a groove and get to a more optimal run
speed (which by then was somewhere between 12 and 13!), so our overall mile
pace got slower, and 2) mentally during a 1 mile stretch, I had to make the transition
from running to walking 3 times rather than 1 so it was actually mentally
harder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What we ended up settling on was
a strategy whereby I’d commit to running 3 tenths of a mile and then walking –
but in fact a number of times I pushed it to 4 tenths or longer, and that worked
pretty consistently well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was still
running when we hit the 87.5 aid station – one of the last milestones of the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, each mile, we were
consistently going several minutes per mile than my estimated 3 mph.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihnEojRiqf6YLryAPAcnSUeF45Ea8ik571BKecdmzR1oldpzByGKQQUG5GJKC8_kDAIISXCe_t5fnzB2-c8OhCESyFQZK_fERmOYhGs_h7aF1zOTG2iTShBg6050yEMIo5d_t1soktdOU/s1600/AmySenDark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihnEojRiqf6YLryAPAcnSUeF45Ea8ik571BKecdmzR1oldpzByGKQQUG5GJKC8_kDAIISXCe_t5fnzB2-c8OhCESyFQZK_fERmOYhGs_h7aF1zOTG2iTShBg6050yEMIo5d_t1soktdOU/s320/AmySenDark.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dark running with Sen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Several major things had happened at 87.5.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere around mile 82 (the previous aid
station), my gut started to ease up and I could start taking in a bit more solid
food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that did wonders for my
overall well being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running through the
cooler portion of the night was invigorating – and having the sun come up and
having it be morning was a big deal mentally too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, well, we were at the last turnaround
point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>12.5 miles to go!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The picture below is one of my favorites from
the whole race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had this great big
happy grin on my face – and I really WAS that happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going strong – slow, but strong – and I
was almost there.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24qAxdf-rhEj3W4h0d5HCOIgHQ7Fnlry_VLH_5CklU1exeMfdlyfiQrks1POFVv2NhVHHvuZQMqkGNUIPa8ZJQp0UsY6TxkWJBFesB2PBz_rBV_QbT23jEJGGI7KJjODRazpcNwm3gWo/s1600/Mile88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24qAxdf-rhEj3W4h0d5HCOIgHQ7Fnlry_VLH_5CklU1exeMfdlyfiQrks1POFVv2NhVHHvuZQMqkGNUIPa8ZJQp0UsY6TxkWJBFesB2PBz_rBV_QbT23jEJGGI7KJjODRazpcNwm3gWo/s400/Mile88.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mile 87.5</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">There was no question in my mind that I was going to finish
this thing – the only question was how strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Would we be able to maintain at least 20 minute miles for the last 12.5?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes we
were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, EVERY mile was less than
20 minutes – generally around 17, and one of those INCLUDED an aid station
stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3E84gVZ4CK35Ys-a5kG7GiMgtNZpZ39zbrp-1s6cWCssXs1SapAjIGTKiNA0P07YxZrOfMmC_MDxzGIJWyoGa0LDAQ88x2smLhuvvXolb_iJ-QlUON_ZCX4mxUvnTnmqUZfo1W3PJiI/s1600/AmySen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3E84gVZ4CK35Ys-a5kG7GiMgtNZpZ39zbrp-1s6cWCssXs1SapAjIGTKiNA0P07YxZrOfMmC_MDxzGIJWyoGa0LDAQ88x2smLhuvvXolb_iJ-QlUON_ZCX4mxUvnTnmqUZfo1W3PJiI/s400/AmySen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mile 90 or so</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">When we had 5 miles to go, I turned around and saw to my
horror that there was a racer not too far behind me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where did HE come from?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did NOT want him to pass me. I knew from a volunteer that I was within the top 10 race finishers and I wanted to keep whatever place I had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sen pointed out that this runner had actually been in
front of us for a while, but we had apparently passed him at the last aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We tried a run, but at that point in time
running had become counterproductive: recovery from the brief forays into runs resulted in much slower post-run walking, decreasing the overall pace per mile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So Sen took me on a powerwalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was my pacer, and he paced me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We pushed it up from 17.5 to 16 minute walking miles,
and did that for the last 4 miles of the race – each mile putting us just a
little bit further in front of the competition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I had told anyone who asked that I expected to finish the
race in between 24-27 hours, and that my most realistic guess was 25
hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, my wish was
sub-24.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After my first challenging 25 miles, I knew
that the sub 24 was way out of the question and I was thinking 26-27 was much
more likely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My finish time ended up
being 25 hours and 23 minutes – which was almost 40 minutes faster than I was
figuring when I started that last lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So – even with the debilitating heat, in a race in which 65 people
signed up, 10 didn’t start, and 35 dropped out along the way, I managed to come
in only 23 minutes behind my “realistic” goal time, and 6<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> overall
in the race, 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> woman in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It was a good day.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZz7uvWjgnTn7xM5X5OGANmsWICQlD8tSFZ5GNd_RUTHLssg7cZk52e0es2ryoBXilAxj_UDp85WQBMP3Uf6YXCcTCr75HWXj7UC7JO5s7JvN61PW2yNIQ6C_zjtME5L1-qTXSsu2D3gA/s1600/ComingIntoFinish2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZz7uvWjgnTn7xM5X5OGANmsWICQlD8tSFZ5GNd_RUTHLssg7cZk52e0es2ryoBXilAxj_UDp85WQBMP3Uf6YXCcTCr75HWXj7UC7JO5s7JvN61PW2yNIQ6C_zjtME5L1-qTXSsu2D3gA/s400/ComingIntoFinish2.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming into the finish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcDZC2fpm-ml8KWaLA-BAj32PnBrHb7UN2ut2HGs2hCyBteXAQOdG9W6JQGyFcNiGOZS_juBgSvmR5nIkFW4aGZAPskogNJ28n5CGAFx_ngMPLu1M4pS_iB_9_1_kreQBISQoEkSDCtT0/s1600/FirstBuckle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcDZC2fpm-ml8KWaLA-BAj32PnBrHb7UN2ut2HGs2hCyBteXAQOdG9W6JQGyFcNiGOZS_juBgSvmR5nIkFW4aGZAPskogNJ28n5CGAFx_ngMPLu1M4pS_iB_9_1_kreQBISQoEkSDCtT0/s400/FirstBuckle.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first buckle!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjqvBPxYpCn-5KDZS41Kt_t3h6tYLw6Auwmb4iY1QBeldVIrp3BHgiDjDM0BDu7Kte_QB2YhcF1TF9mAf11P5qZgQezr6SQXTGRb-5cadDFEAnVxWL12af0yyp0VcDOx9Dl2L_Yfbfmg/s1600/AmyPatty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjqvBPxYpCn-5KDZS41Kt_t3h6tYLw6Auwmb4iY1QBeldVIrp3BHgiDjDM0BDu7Kte_QB2YhcF1TF9mAf11P5qZgQezr6SQXTGRb-5cadDFEAnVxWL12af0yyp0VcDOx9Dl2L_Yfbfmg/s320/AmyPatty.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating with my lovely daughter</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866100691236022385.post-51399903203929707782016-07-25T15:59:00.000-07:002016-07-25T15:59:18.991-07:00Night Running - Candlelight 12 hour Race Report
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I ran the Candlelight 12 hour overnight race last
Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a brand new race
which sounded unique and interesting – a race which started at 7pm, and ended
at 7am the next morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not too
far away (3 hours), and I knew several people who planned to run it, so I
signed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As this race was only 3 weeks
before my first attempt at a 100 miler at Summer Beast of Burden on August 13<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>,
my plan was to just run my planned training distance and then stop and
volunteer for the rest of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
training plan called for a 30 miler on Saturday and 20 miles on Sunday, so I decided
ahead of time that rather than try to run a BTB for my last training weekend
(no way was I going to run 20 miles Sunday after an overnight 30 on Saturday),
I’d incorporate 15 of the planned Sunday 20 into my running week leading up to
the race, and then aim for 35 at the race, making it both a bit more of a push,
but also allowing the rest of Sunday after the race to just be a sleepy day.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Saturday morning felt really strange – since the run didn’t
start until 7pm, I could sleep as late as I wanted too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was truly a novelty, since I’ve been
getting up at 4:30 every Saturday for months and months to get in my long runs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slept until 7:11 which felt completely
luxurious, and had a leisurely breakfast with my family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even managed to get the house cleaning done
by 11.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My plan was to meet Pat McHenry, Alan Barnes and Todd Baum
in Syracuse and drive to close to the race site with them, where we planned to
meet Allison Ospovitch and Tim Hardy for an early meal prior to the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was in the car and a couple of miles from
my house when I had the feeling that I had not, in fact, packed the shirt I
planned to wear for the race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I flew
back to the house and indeed, my sleeveless running top was neatly folded in my
workout room – NOT in my bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
having this shirt would have been a bit of an issue since the race start was
supposed to be hot hot hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I jumped
back into the car and, now a bit short on time, pushed the pace a little to get
to our meeting place on time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I made it to our meeting place on time, and we all piled
into Alan’s car, setting the route for the Olive Garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Allison ended up not being able to join us,
so it was just me and the 4 manfolk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When the food came, there were a few remarks about how much food it was
before a race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt a little bit self
conscious since the meal was my idea – but figured that the other racers would
do whatever they needed to do in order to be respectful of what their bodies
needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me, that meant putting a
strict limit on how much of my dinner I actually ate, and regretfully watching
as the waiter took away at least half of my delicious entrée after the
meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having had the experiencing of
running on a completely overly full belly during my boat running stint (10
miles about 45 minutes after an extravagant 4 course cruise dinner), I knew I
wanted to go into the race not hungry, but not in any way where my stomach
would be talking to me either.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We arrived at the race venue at pretty much a perfect time –
about 40 minutes prior to race start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The day was still hot – at least mid 80-‘s, but the humidity wasn’t
awful, and without the sun being overhead, I was optimistic that the
temperature would be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People were
setting up tents and personal aid stations, and I said hello to a couple of
folks I’ve met over the past year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
happy to see Dave Farrands, who has given me much shoe advice over the past
year, as well as Mary Skelton DeSilva who I met at BOB and have been following
on Facebook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was envious of Mary’s
race outfit – a fabulous get-up with lots of bright colors, an adorable race
skirt and a reflective skeleton on the back of her shirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg176atccoM7hZPOe8PZhDu_T7PoUQD5rZuUjfaVWKzl7bE-W1nPYdkUQgbjlT0PAFq6hwNWMwtAsN2_TRTGcxD4wbCjO3CAeqVXLCyiRtFEUN_qiK6oT3iH-G9Z0jSqgRGyA0YcQjfEHc/s1600/IMG_4953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg176atccoM7hZPOe8PZhDu_T7PoUQD5rZuUjfaVWKzl7bE-W1nPYdkUQgbjlT0PAFq6hwNWMwtAsN2_TRTGcxD4wbCjO3CAeqVXLCyiRtFEUN_qiK6oT3iH-G9Z0jSqgRGyA0YcQjfEHc/s320/IMG_4953.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Todd Baum getting ready</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My pal Pat</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me - just prior to race start</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I didn’t have too many preparations, as there was going to
be an aid station every mile or so, so pre-race was pretty stress free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We lined up at the start a couple of minutes
before the race, and just like that, the race started.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The one thing I had been a bit concerned about ahead of time
was the terrain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m generally a road
runner, who has only recently ventured into trails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a mostly grassy course on the
grounds of an Equestrian center, with about ¼ mile total of actual pavement,
along with several gravel sections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
grass definitely slowed things down a bit, but I was pleased with my early pace
of between 10:30 and 11 minute miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Since this was a training run anyway, I really didn’t need to worry
about pace – but there is always a competitor lurking in the back of my
mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I learned quickly during the first couple of loops the
sections of the approximately 1 mile loop to be wary of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a section that hat a few lurking
ruts which had some ankle roll potential.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Also, probably about mile .75 or .8 of the loop was an obvious hill
which had a little steep section at the top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkX8jqVbbhxdzhlUiXUtk579nFGeG3MPXKlK1QjxAhxL62hfn5L4xAg7MeHeI5xbhVPm2OFFLgv0NR_BFqyr_RGMWLdCquTrCygJKhYbdFTeAmGlov09eCnFtve0X-uTxVE5LX3Phy99I/s1600/IMG_4970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkX8jqVbbhxdzhlUiXUtk579nFGeG3MPXKlK1QjxAhxL62hfn5L4xAg7MeHeI5xbhVPm2OFFLgv0NR_BFqyr_RGMWLdCquTrCygJKhYbdFTeAmGlov09eCnFtve0X-uTxVE5LX3Phy99I/s320/IMG_4970.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This hill was a bit of a bitch</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even though there were a number of runners I knew, I ran at
my own pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On occasion I’d find myself
running close enough to someone to chat for a bit, but even when I ran with
people I already knew, like Pat or Allison, we only ran together<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for as long as that pace worked for both –
I’d either let them go ahead because they were running faster or I’d pull ahead
and go at my own pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned some
time ago that I run my best races running at my own pace – and even if my
“average” pace is almost exactly the same as another runner, that does NOT mean
we run the same sections at the same pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I might be stronger on hills and they might be stronger on flats, and if
we try to stay together, someone ends up struggling or going too easy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was astounding to me how quickly the time went by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been putting in lots of really big
mileage lately – the last couple of months featuring 45-50 mile weekends with
combos of 28/15, 30/15, 30/20.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The end
result of that training is not only that 30 miles is easier physically, but
that it doesn’t seem as long mentally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
had created a new running playlist, and just find myself in a perfect spiritual
zone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My music was perfect for the
event; the evening was stunningly beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was somehow magical as the sun started to go down and you started to
encounter pockets of coolness on the previously warm course…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
think I was one of the earlier runners to grab my headlamp to have at the ready,
and I turned it on essentially as soon as I felt I couldn’t reliably scan the
ground surface for the various obstacles I knew were there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within 30 minutes most of the runners had
their lights going – some with red or blinking lights on the back as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the dark looped course, the runners looked
like fireflies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the things that was a big unknown for me about this
race was how my body would react to night-time running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am an early morning runner – my body is
raring to go at 5:30 am, and by 7pm it is pretty much done and shutting
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really don’t tend to like
running after work because it feels like everything is tired, and my pace is
always much slower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, with my 4:30
am wake-up schedule, I’m an early bird as far as bed-time – so I’m usually in
bed between 8:30 and 9.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My one 8pm night
run on the boat a few weeks ago was actually good mental training for this race
in that it showed me that I could successfully run in COMPLETELY different
conditions than those I was comfortable with – so it was very freeing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And so it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
hours slipped by stealthily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As has
happened at my last couple of ultras, the miles just added up, and I was at 5…
at 10… in the teens, and then more than halfway to my goal of 35.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I was in love…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in love with the magic of this race, of being
out here in the middle of the night with other amazing people who have
discovered the complete zen of the perfect ultra run; with the blinking lights,
and the blazing yellow reflections of the eyes of the barn cat that was
following us around and around the course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is such a thing as perfect happiness, and I was embedded in it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As with my last looped course at BPAC, I knew that I’d
either have to finish short of my goal or go beyond it, since your loop only
counts if you do the full loop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of
course I chose to go beyond it, so I finished my planned run having run 35.6
miles in 7 hours and 2 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that
point, looking at the leaderboard, I was first in my age group and 4<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>
for overall mileage in the race, with a field of 80+ runners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stopping at that point was tough and I really
felt like crying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to keep going
and to see what I could do – but having trained for the past 6 months for my
upcoming 100 miler, was just not willing to risk any possible injury or overuse
going into that goal race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So stop I did
– heading into the volunteer tent for my shift.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wiped myself down with baby wipes and changed into clean
dry clothes…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved hanging out with
Ansis, Doug and Mark in the aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Doug and Mark shared their ultra stories, and Ansis shared his music
play list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My job was coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other aid station volunteers were
skeptical about anyone wanting coffee, but I had brought the pot based on a
sense that it might be popular, and indeed as soon as we started letting the
runners coming through know that we had coffee, it went pretty steadily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had a couple of bad moments shortly after starting my
shift when a wave of cold sweat and nausea overcame me and I knew I was close
to fainting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a bit of rest and a
cookie and some coffee, the moment passed and I recovered to enjoy the next 3
hours immensely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the runners I
met was a relay runner named Kristen, who informed me that not only was she
running the same 100 as I was, but that she had run the full 100 the previous
January in the winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I subsequently
learned that she didn’t just run it – she won the women’s division.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look forward to running with this superstar
in a few weeks!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Watching the runners go by, and seeing that I really wasn’t
all that useful in the volunteer tent, I was itching to be back out on the
course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked the other volunteers if
they’d mind if I threw on my bib to just walk a couple of miles and stretch out
my legs while tacking on miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of
them minded, so that’s what I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
were less than 2 hours left in the race, and although I’d only planned to walk
a leisurely mile or 2, I ended up walking briskly for the rest of the race,
tacking on another 6 miles and bringing my total mileage for the 12 hours to
41.75 or so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which, even with my 3 hours
off, brought me in as 2<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">nd</span></sup> in my age group, and 21 overall in the
race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I call this blog Running Addiction, and for me it really is. Days (and nights) like this get under your skin and have you wanting more. There are some wonderful images burned into my brain from this event. The glowing skeleton on the back of Mary's shirt. The effortless, beautiful stride of Todd Baum, winner of the event - who was very clearly mentally in some other wonderful place - every time he passed me and I said "hi", he looked startled, like he was just breaking out of a reverie. Dave Farrands and his steady, solid pace and encouraging words. Cheerful and incredibly nice Mike Valone, accompanying his wife Lisa as she attempted her first 26.2 (she made it to 50K!!). The young woman with the amazing tattoos and even more amazing muscle definition running her first ultra and looking for all the world like she's done this her whole life. (And may I say I want her muscle definition!). The blinking headlamps and taillamps; the sun coming up in pink and yellow streaks as I pulled off my final 6. Pat winning in his age group; Todd winning the race. Yes - nights like this get under your skin.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigXsqSwO1oz-5V82687P5-MFV7mK1tmi4B24lhTZRN_QVa8PMaukRwg1HaP4hQHDl4ZfQUn5b3A99LFWzBBgxSHx3t2xz3CuSMXU0PsA_WwaLOf8aDb_eFtCepVWkSa6HQtvWIBfCW7Y/s1600/IMG_4973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigXsqSwO1oz-5V82687P5-MFV7mK1tmi4B24lhTZRN_QVa8PMaukRwg1HaP4hQHDl4ZfQUn5b3A99LFWzBBgxSHx3t2xz3CuSMXU0PsA_WwaLOf8aDb_eFtCepVWkSa6HQtvWIBfCW7Y/s320/IMG_4973.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary and her fabulous outfit</td></tr>
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Amy Mowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04991261248040087733noreply@blogger.com0