Up and Down and Up again... A Winter's tale

It 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....

Conference House 6 Hour Endurance Challenge - Dec 10, Staten Island NY

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.


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. 

Amy & Aubrey with Ben Before Conference House Challenge

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!


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. 


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. 


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. 


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.


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.

Post Race with Bling

Amy & Aubrey post race



Aubrey Post Race (borrowing my very attractive camo coat - which also made an appearance in my "One Day" report)

The Amys

My first Trophy

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.....

Amy's life changes drastically....

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.


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). 


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.


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.


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.

A new training route - learning to love hills

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. 

A Busy Week - a 100 miler, a job interview and a visit to another city

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.


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. 


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.


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.


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.

Pre-Race with Gary, Katherine and young Payton

Pre-Race - Ben, Aubrey, Justin & Nina

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.


(Copy and paste link below to FB to see video of race venue by Dan Salmons...)


https://www.facebook.com/dan.salmons.1/videos/10211703657490025/




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.

Amy - looking just a bit uncomfortable

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. 


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. 


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.


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.


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.


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. 


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.




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.

Beast Finish

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.

Recovery, a job interview and a trip

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. 


Fitting my feet into the high heels I needed for the interview... Now that was a treat.  


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.


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.


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.

In which Amy is terrified about a possible stress fracture and is simultaneously hit with the Plague

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. 


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?


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.


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...

... 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. 


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. 


HUGE sigh of relief.



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.


(This is hard for me to do.)


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.


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.


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.  9 am!  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.


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.


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!


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. 


Take a walk.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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).

Where I am now...

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. 


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. 


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?


Oh yeah.  I run.

24 Hours of Kicking Asphalt - NJ One Day 2016

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.

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.

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.

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). 


People.  Damn.


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.

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. 


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.


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.


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.

Amy & Aubrey pre-race

 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!

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.


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.


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. 


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.


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. 

It was COLD!!!

 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. 


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.


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.


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.


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.

After the race, with my finisher's license plate

Can Lakes 50 miler Redux - 2016

So – Saturday, October 8^th was officially my ultra running 1 year anniversary.  My first ultramarathon was completed at the Can Lakes 50 miler in 2015, and last Saturday I went back for a repeat performance.

As anyone following my blog is aware, I’ve been pretty consistently busy since last October.  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).

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.  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.  I went into this years’ Can lakes 50 with the sole goal of beating last years’ time by any amount.

I was not sure that this goal was attainable.  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).  Nonetheless – with all of the training I’ve put in, I was hoping it would be possible.

So many things were different about this year’s race from last.  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.  Last year, I had my daughter Patty with me – which was absolutely amazing – she was at every aid station.  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).    

I arrived in Canandaigua right around 6 pm on Friday – an hour before the pre-race dinner was to start.  I checked into the hotel, unpacked, took care of some e-mails, and headed over to the dinner.  As he did last year, Gil put on quite a wonderful spread.  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.  I had been looking forward to Gil’s pre-race speech, and, probably because of how few folks were there, that didn’t happen.   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.  I sat with them and with Tom Butler and enjoyed the fabulous food.

Heading back to the hotel, I met my roomie for the first time.  (I had advertised on the Can Lakes Facebook group that I was looking for a female roommate to share hotel expenses.)  Aubrey was great and we chatted until bed… she was running the 50K. 

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.  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.  It had appeared to be all better, but had reared its (very) ugly head again just 2 days prior to the race.  My untried solution was to take a dose of Imodium about an hour before the race, and just pray. 

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.  In the lobby I saw a guy who looked decked out for a race, along with his family.  I started talking to him – his name was Thomas – and learned that he was running his first 50 miler. 

I stopped at Starbucks and got myself a great big cup of strong caffeine, and headed over to race start.  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.  I talked a bit more to Thomas, and also to Joe Ciecierega who was also running his first 50.  It’s always exciting at these races to see folks achieving new goals.

Hanging Out Before the Race

Soon enough, it was time to gather in front of the community college, and start the race. 

My early pace felt easy and right.  No aches or pains – felt tapered and strong.  Probably about a mile in, I heard a voice next to me and saw my new friend Thomas.  It looked like Thomas’ pace was almost spot on to mine, so we ran together and talked.  I’m generally a solo runner, and it is always pretty special when I get a chance to run with someone else.  We zipped through the first aid station – 4.5 miles down, and time was flying.  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.  Thomas and I separated a bit on the Coye Road climb – I think hill pacing is a pretty individual thing  - but I found him next to me again on the next big downhill past Coye.

I was really pleased, early on in the race, with how I was handling the downhills.  Last year the downs started hurting my knees really early in the race.  This year I appeared to be running them strong.  Thomas and I continued our comfortable pace until we hit Bopple Hill – the first true monster climb of the race.  We stopped briefly as we climbed Bopple for Thomas to grab some gear from his crew, and then started to climb again.  Somewhere along that climb, our paces stopped matching as well, and I moved on ahead of Thomas.  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.

Amy and Thomas climbing up Bopple

Bopple and the subsequent downhill went smoothly and then I hit a more rolling section of the course where I ran into Wanda Schubmehl.  I still felt strong, but it felt like I was slowing down a bit.  Further along that stretch of road I ran into Bill Schubmehl and said hi.   Bill and Wanda were both easy to recognize as they (and I) were wearing our day-glow Candlelight 12 hats.  Bill looked great…  I told him I was feeling OK but just a little bit bonky.  Somewhere around mile 22-23, I found myself on a road that just seemed to go on, and on, and on.  I didn’t see any runners ahead of me or behind me and realized I hadn’t seen any runners in a while.  I started wondering whether I had somehow gotten off course.  (Gil – maybe throw a few more chalk arrows on that section…  J   ) I plowed on ahead, and right around mile 24 I hit the turnoff for Sunnyside – which I recognized, to my great relief.

I remember really liking the Sunnyside section last year for a couple of reasons.  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.  This is pretty cool.  Once you finish the Sunnyside out and back, you are at mile 28 or so.  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.  This year that was not the case.

I hit the 50K mark at 5 hours and 37 minutes – actually 2 minutes slower than last year, but pretty much on target.  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.  Whereas last year I had felt the need at that point to take regular walk breaks, this year I was still running solid.  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.    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.  At least the temperature was good.

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.  There’s something about already knowing how that distance feels that makes it seem shorter. 

I didn’t remember exactly where Bare Hill, the second monster climb, started, but my recollection was somewhere in the late 30’s.  Sure enough right around the 38 mile mark, after some gradual climbing, the real fun began.  The base of the hill was a gradual enough slope to aim for an easy run.  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.   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.    I yelled out to them and waved and jogged to catch up.  Really enjoyed their humor and company during the brief haul up Bare Hill.

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.  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.  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.  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.

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.  How powerful it is to have someone know your name, and take care of you!  “Amy – what do you need? Do you need soda?  Pickles?  How are you doing Amy?”.  Just having someone know me and ask after me made me feel strong and ready to head out for the last 8.

Which went…  just fine.  I think my pace was relatively steady at that point and I still didn’t feel like I needed to walk.  Very different, again, from last year.  Particularly in the last 3 miles, where last year I was mentally DONE,  this race I just kept on running – passing 2 runners in the last mile and a half of the course.  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.

Earned my age group silver medal again

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. 

Thomas finishing his first 50-miler

Gary and Katherine running in happy!

3 days after the race – the differences between last year and this year are still showing themselves.  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.  This year that didn’t happen.  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.

Which I did…  next stop:  One Day at the Fair 24 Hour race in New Jersey, November 12 2016.

 

Free To Run Trail Marathon Race Report

I signed up for this race the week after I finished my 100 miler in August.   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.  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.  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.  (I’m not a vegan but they let me in anyway).  The venue for that race was stunningly beautiful and the terrain was all runnable – not much elevation and not horribly technical – though relatively rooty.  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.  THIS race had 3000 feet of elevation per 12.5 mile loop and the race was billed as “very challenging”.  Furthermore, in order to race well, you need to train on the terrain you will be racing on.  And, unfortunately, I’ve not spent much time on trails since I ran the 50K in June.    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. 

My Ragnar buddy Ed Rudman had seen me thinking out this race online, so we signed up together.  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.  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.  This for me is special as I spend lots and lots of time running alone.

Problem was, as the race was approaching, I was not looking forward to it.  Rather, I was facing it with dread and trepidation.  As in “what have I done?”  Primarily I think the issue was fear of injuring myself further, after my spill from 2 weeks ago.  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.  Distance?  Yes.  Terrain… not so much.

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.  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.   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.  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.

Breakfast consisted of a bacon, egg and cheese bagel from the Dunkin’ Donuts next to a Love’s travel stop near Pittsfield.  I was wearing my Vegan Power 50K race shirt (which I love!  It’s bright red and totally badass), and the clerk at Dunkin’ looked startled as I gave her the order.  “Did you say… bacon?”. 

“Damn skippy.”

“But…  your shirt….”

“Oh.  It was a race – it was a Vegan support event but they let me in anyway.”

I got to the forest with plenty of time to spare, and before Ed, Rebecca and Deb arrived.  I picked up my bib and just drank coffee until they showed up a few minutes later. 

Rebecca and Ed - pre Race

Deb, Amy, Rebecca and Ed Pre race

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.  The half marathoners added on .6 miles, while the marathoners added on 1.2.  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.  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.

Rocky Terrain - new to me!

Ed posting on the trail

The add-on stretch was pavement, but shortly thereafter we hit the trails and started climbing.  As the elevation map had indicated it would be, the first stretch of the first loop was pretty much all climb.  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.  Still – running is my thing.  So whenever we hit portions of the trail that appeared more runnable, we started trotting.  I have to say I felt pretty good about the first 3-4 miles of the race.  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.  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.  Rebecca was easily identifiable by her bright orange compression socks.

We took advantage of the aid station goodies and soda, and then started on our way as a group of 4.  One of the other racers informed us that the hill right out of the aid station was known as the “Thrasher”.  There are some writings on the race website about where that name came from, but all we knew is that it was STEEP. 

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.  That is to say, the non-technical uphills are the piece of trail running I do well.  I was a bit ahead of my buddies on this part of the trail. 

One of the best and most delightful parts of this race were the stream of obscenities pouring from Deb’s mouth.  Deb is, simply, amazing.  She is witty, crass, astoundingly funny and shockingly obscene when she chooses to be – and she was choosing to be.  She kept us in stitches for the rest of the half marathon.  Going up the hill:  “Whose F@#ING idea was this anyway.  F@*ING AMY.  DAMN her! “  Funnier still was when we got to the aid station where I got stung by a wasp and without even thinking, I swore loudly.  Deb said gently “Amy – don’t swear.  Swearing offends me.”  She then apologized on my behalf to the aid station worker for my mouth.   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.

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.  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?  They promised us a lookout damnit!”    I was thoroughly enjoying this and feeling pretty happy that I hadn’t fallen. 

And then.  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.  And then I swore just like Deb, “F@#K!!”,  terrified that I had ruined myself for my upcoming 50 miler.

That pretty much blew my confidence for the rest of the race.  I gingerly started running again, the hammie yelling at me for my clumsiness.  Forutnately after a mile or 2, the hamstring pain started to subside significantly. 

We finally hit the overlook and it was as incredible as promised.  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.  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.  It is always great to spend time with my runner friends in person.

Deb, Rebecca, Amy and Ed

Meeting my friend Ana on top of the world

It was also up on the ridge where I got stung by the wasp.  Didn’t even see it coming but all of a sudden my arm was on fire.  Made sense that it was a yellow jacket – the aid station workers said they were hanging all around the food table all day.  I swore loudly (chastised gently by Deb), and hoped that today wouldn’t be the day I’d develop any sort of sting allergy.

Fortunately there was no need for epi-pens as we progressed down along our way.  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.  The next 3 miles was unremarkable.  There was one more aid station after the vista, where the aid station volunteers said “the rest is easy!  There is just one more little up hill, and then no more single track – just downhill the rest of the way.”

Easy my ass.  (My sore, pulled, ACHING ass!)  The one thing they were right about was the downhill part.  Oh boy was it downhill.  Leaf slippery, rock slidingly, impossible footingly downhill.  Not too far from where we started our descent, I went down.  My goal going into this race was to stay upright and not get injured.  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?  After I got up from my tumble, I was much more cautious on the remaining downhill.  Deb and Rebecca hopped down it like billy goats, while Ed was a bit more cautious.  I brought up the rear.   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.  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!

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.

It was pretty clear on lap 2 that most of our productive “running” was done.  The uphill seemed “uppier”, and EVERYTHING seemed rockier and rootier again.  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. 

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.  And believe it or not, in those sections where we were hitting 18 – we were actually doing a bit of running.

So here is the thing that gets me about trails.  Deb said it just right as we were hiking up the Thrasher.  She said “I like to RUN trails.  I don’t like to hike to get to my run.  If running is your drug, then this part doesn’t do it”.  Yes – that.  I’m into this thing for the run.  So on the parts where, for whatever reason, I can’t comfortably run – it feels like I’m either cheating, or failing.  Despite the fact that I KNOW that except for the top runners in these races, pretty much everyone is doing a bit of hiking.  Some more than others.

But running is my drug – and, well, I was not doing that much of it on loop 2.  But neither was I falling.  What WAS happening was my quads were getting more and more angry. 

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.  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).  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…”

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.  I just wanted to be done and go home and lick my wounds.

Down the rocky, leafy descent we went.  On this last section, there was pretty much no running this time around.  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.  I knew I wasn’t doing well in this race, but I wanted to at least keep any lead I had.  So – rocks be damned – I was running the rest, with Ed right along beside me.  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.  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^nd woman in.

Finished!

Well damn.  What just happened?

And here is where the Monday morning quarterbacking comes in.  My buddy Rich tells me “ya gotta learn to not be so hard on yourself”.  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”?

So number 1:  Train for the terrain, dumbass. 

OK – yeah.  So why in hell would I expect to do at all well when this wasn’t what I trained for?  Isn’t what I AM CURRENTLY training for?  Is, in fact, an almost entirely new thing for me?  This was my 4^th 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.  This one – next to nothing.  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. 

Number 2.  I was overly cautious. 

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.  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.

Number 3 – This wasn’t “THE” race.

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. 

Number 4- Probably 10-15 minutes lost at aid stations.

I guess those are mostly the things that could have been opportunities for improvement. 

Still – it was humbling.  When I finished that second loop, my legs were literally shaking.  They were jelly.  And that was after HIKING most of the second loop – not much running in that go-round at all.  I was used to being able to finish 26 miles before breakfast and then spending the rest of the day cleaning my house.  This 8 hour jelly-leg crap was a whole new humbling gig for me.  I couldn’t fathom how anyone had done 4 loops on that course.  (And the lead person only took an hour more for the 50 that I took for my marathon!!   HE wasn’t hiking up those hills, for sure.  He was running them!).

Clearly, IF I want to improve at this particular type of race, there needs to be some lots of trail specific training thrown in.

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.  There were plenty of moments in the race that were in fact pure perfection.  Particularly in the first loop, before pulling my hamstring,  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.  And the view from the top?  Priceless.

But I think I’ll wait for after my 50….

After the Race… my post 100-mile journey

Immediate Post Race

I finished my race at 11:23 am on Sunday morning.  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.  (Sen may have heard my agonized cry from the porto-potty)  Dear lord it was so bad I almost passed out.  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.  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.  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. 

Most of these injuries were alleviated pretty quickly by post-race shower and application of Aquaphor.  The drive home was manageable –  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.  Sitting after a race is, ironically, hugely uncomfortable as I get this awful sciatica sort of like a toothache in my ass.  We stopped for food at an Arby’s about an hour into the ride.  As is often the case, and also ironically, I still wasn’t even very hungry at that point and not much sounded good.  I ended up with a vanilla milkshake and 4 mozzarella sticks.  Which was pretty much perfect. 

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.  We exchanged tired and happy hello’s as we hobbled around Arby’s.  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.    The second major recovery aid was the Epsom Salts bath I had before dinner.  Only just recently have I discovered the miraculous healing powers of Epsom Salts.  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).

Post Race Phase 2 – Recovery

OK – well, I have to admit, I just kind of skipped this phase all together.    On Monday I felt…  fine.  Really almost absolutely fine.  No huge residual stiffness – went on a long walk with Matthew at lunchtime.  No issues going up and down stairs.  I just threw in gentle stretching any time the opportunity presented itself.  Monday is normally a rest day anyway on my training schedule.

Tuesday is not.  Tuesday is a running day.  So I ran.  I wasn’t sure if I SHOULD run – but I knew I was going to give it a try.  I pulled on my beautiful and shockingly pink shoes and I set out.  And oh my god it felt like I was FLYING.  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.  But it FELT like flying.  (My last miles on my hundred had been 16-17 minutes).  More importantly – everything felt good.  No aches, no pains, no stiffness.  I was just running and feeling great.  I stopped at 6 miles.  On Wednesday I went for 9.  Thursday I got in 8.  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.  Post race week 2 I got in 60 miles, and post race week 3 I hit 80. 

Huh.  How about that.  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.  Of course, I didn’t look this up until my 2^nd or 3^rd recovery week, so clearly that ship had sailed.  And was not going to be happening in any case.

Which is not to say I was not respecting my body’s needs…  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.  That, essentially was my recovery.  Letting myself run 11’s or 11:30’s that first couple of weeks, because that was what was comfortable.  Letting myself run how my body wanted to run, rather than how my head wanted to run.

How very freeing, and intoxicating!  Running, in a way that just felt joyful and amazing – with no competitive pressure from my brain. 

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.  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. 

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.    I also ended up signing up for a trail marathon (tomorrow! – 9/17) as a training run.  Which meant I needed to get in some trail miles.  (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!

A short note on trails

So me and trails.  Still an evolving relationship.  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.  Prior to hitting the ground, I felt something  bad happen where my left hamstring connected to my left glute.  Bad enough that I cried out as I went down.  Well – unless something is broken, when you go down, the only thing to do is to get back up and run.  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.  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.   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.

The good news is, the pull didn’t impact me at all on my run the next day – or really any subsequent runs.  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.  Which really just felt like I had a constant awful toothache in my ass.    Driving was excruciating.  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.

Gradually over the last couple of weeks the injury has improved, just in time for my trail marathon tomorrow.  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.

So…  what’s next?

So this journey is all about pushing limits.  I finished my 100 miler which was a huge goal for me, and I finished it strong.  After the initial glow, there is always that post race depression/quandary – OK – so I did this.  What’s next?

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.  In some ways the post race depression/adjustment is like that.  You work so long and so hard toward a specific goal – it becomes this great big life changing event in your head.  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).  Each of these was huge for me in terms of working toward something that felt really big.  The problem with completing something big is, if you want a new stretch goal, it has to be…  bigger.

New Goals – BIG mileage, multi-days?

Early on in the calendar year, I had hoped to get in 2000 miles of running this year.  I hit that mark just before the end of August.  It became apparent that 3000 was within the realm of possibility.  I started re-thinking my training.

For pretty much the entire year, I’ve been running 5 days a week.  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.  My normal schedule had been to throw in an evening bike ride on my trainer on Tuesday nights (making that the only “double”  workout day), and to swim on Friday mornings, so that only Monday was a true “rest” day where I wasn’t doing anything.  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.  This very easily added 10-15 miles per week.  And for the first couple of Tuesdays, I used that to get in a short trail run.

So – here I am, 3 ½ months left in the year, hopefully about to pull off an 85 mile week.  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.  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.  And these are easy runs – running at the pace my body wants to run – not pushing it all.  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).  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.  I’ve been really happy with what I’ve been able to achieve with those.  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.  Both that evening run as well as the 10 miles I threw in the next morning were great.  I’m generally also aiming to get in at least 1 aggressive hill workout per week. 

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.

I’m going to have to taper soon because I really do want to go into CanLakes rested.  I know I have the base…  so now I just have to get into the race without hurting myself. 

Tapering, though, that’s going to be routh.