Sacred Simplicity

Some runs are complicated, full of planning and mental exhaustion that can bring you to your knees before you even lift a foot.  Not MGM.  This run is simplicity at its finest...no fees, no fuss, no worries.  Coach summarizes it up here better than I ever could.  The day started early, at CVS as  always, where I met up with Coach and Mrs. Coach, who I haven't seen in way too long.  We drove in the ever lightening dawn to Clifton, Virginia, where we all cozied up in the lodge while we waited for the 8 am start time.  After a prerequisite group picture, we were off.

This is the back end of BRR, and also includes part of the WHM, so it is a course I know as well as any I have run multiple times.  Blue blazes guided the path until the  Do Loop, but luckily, the kind VHTRC'ers in charge hung ribbons to get runners through that infinite maze.  Last year I was in the loop for a frantic 2 1/2 hours before I bushwacked up a steep hill and knocked on a door for directions to the road.  Good times.  This year, my new found trail confidence (and the several other runners around me) assured that I would have no issues with getting lost.  I even went the right way, which, if you read the report, was not even a requirement.  The leaves were deep, deep, deep.  It was hard to know what was underfoot, but in some ways, I like that better.  Up, down, up, down,  until we emerged, no worse for the wear.

Do Loop Exit Reward

I don't know why, and maybe it is because I am just too exhausted from working so much to care, but I have been zoning out on these runs like never before.   And it is working for me.  I take care of my body by eating and drinking, my mind by watching and listening, and I just keep going.

I soak in being outside, in the cold, in the forest, with the leaves crunching, the trees creaking, and the wind whispering.  I catch up with old friends, meet new friends, and just keep going.  There is no pain, no tiredness, no fear - just the sacredness of the woods and the running.  And I love it.

Potomac Heritage, Stone Mill and Dallas to Boot!

There is a moment unlike any other when I climb into bed, still damp from my post 50 mile shower, lay down my head and take a breath.  Everything hurts, but everything feels so damn good.  I am beyond tired, but I don't want to go to sleep.  I play it over and over in my head until finally, I am out.  Probably more than anything, that is the reason, that exact moment, why I sign up for these crazy ultra races.

I have been fortunate this fall in that all my "training" races went off without a hitch.  I wasn't sick, wasn't injured, and even working long hours at my new job didn't turn me into a doughy mess. I was able to keep a fairly consistent, if unorthodox running schedule, and completed my runs with no lingering side effects.  After Patapsco Valley 50K, I headed to DC for the Potomac Heritage 50K.

I really was this happy the entire run

 This might well be my favorite 50K besides Hashawha.  The trails are so foot friendly, there are boulders to climb- right up the side of waterfalls, and we even cross over the Potomac River with a full view of the Washington Monument.

Add to that the gracious hospitality of the RD and volunteers, and a fun after party, and it makes for the perfect race.  I am a sucker for full body activities, so a 50K where you use your arms a lot just makes my day.  Scrambling up huge boulders and racing down switchbacks right in the heart of Washington is unbelievably cool.

I ran my best time at this race, even before the minutes deducted for completing some crazy ass hilarious stunts at aid stations.  (I even compromised my principles and ate SPAM)  What??

Hey, I will do plenty of crazy things to shave a minute off my time

 After PH50K I headed to Dallas for a work conference so I was able to rest up (if you call miles and miles of walking "rest".)  On the plus side, I now know every inch of the convention center and surrounding area.  I wish I had more "non-working" time to really see more of  the city, but what I captured was pretty cool.
 

so many boots...so little time

When I returned home, I was psyched for Stone Mill.  50 miles is no longer daunting and the day looked to be an exact picture of my perfect running weather: cold and sunny.  Heat is just not my friend anymore, and by heat, I mean running in anything over 50-60 degrees. When I saw the high was going to be 43, I secretly cheered (since so many other runners were cursing the cold).

You HAD to know this was coming!!!

While last year I let my mind wander throughout this race, I was all in for 2014.  I had a strategy of sorts - beyond finishing.  I wanted to run the towpath from mile 25, and keep enough to run alot of the later miles rather than walking it in.  I wanted to be able to confidently find my way in the dark woods for the last few miles, and I wanted to run a smart race that wouldn't leave me popping advil for the next two days.  I am happy to say that I almost made all my goals.  While the river view was magnificent, it couldn't distract me enough to keep me running consistently on the tow path, even for just under 4 miles.  But when I walked, I walked fast - and only two runners passed me, so that wasn't bad.  I was so in the zone for the whole day that I never used my drop bags,  never changed clothes (adding or subtracting layers), never even scurried into the woods for a nature call.  I just kept going.  In fact, the miles ticked by faster than ever before.

Running a lot, walking when I needed a break.  I made sure to be smart at the aid stations, and along with my turkey and swiss on rye, ate potatoes, bananas and coke.  Towards the end I also had some chicken noodle soup that was so very good and so very hot!  Perfect.  The second to last aid station workers were handing out donuts and I almost popped one in my mouth, but with only 8 miles to go, the last thing I needed was an unwanted pit stop.  When it did finally get dark, I pulled out my handheld and just carried on - no fear, no worries.  When I reached the underpass where I have gotten off track the last two years, there was a kind volunteer with a flashlight directing us back to the trail, but I suspect I would have found it this time anyway.  It was that kind of a day.  The last push of woods, a long few miles, and we were on the road again.  I knew I had plenty of time, but I was anxious to be in, so I put my light away and ran by the street lights to the finish line.  I didn't set any records, but was 10 minutes faster than last year, and 20 minutes faster than the year before.

  More importantly, I had a fantastic day out there.  And while walking was still painful the next day, I made it without advil and by Tuesday I didn't even feel like I had run!

What Valley??

A valley is a low area between hills.  Patapsco Valley 50K was more like the hills surrounding the low area.  I know we must have hit that valley at least a few times, but dang, this was a tough race!

Holy elevation, Batman

I convinced a running friend to try her first 50K, and knowing the park as I did (which turns out to be not as well as I thought I did), I thought this might be a pretty tame first ultra.  It was definitely an ominous sign when I tripped over the curb in the dark on my way to the bathroom!  But there was a bathroom - indoor plumbing, a great pavilion to stash a drop bag, and a nice intimate starting field.  At 6 sharp we were off, running through the wet grass under the star studded sky.  We went on like that for about 50 yards before we encountered the first hill!  Luckily, in the dark and with many runners ahead of us, we were able to carefully pick our way up the hill amidst the rocks and roots.  This was repeated for about 75 minutes, until the light started to seep through the trees and we could now see what we were falling over.  Loel had some inspired saves as she caught her back foot on a root or rock and while she came dangerously close, did not fall once.  I didn't either, although I am not so sure "saving" myself was any better. 

this is exactly what I look like when I fall

The course was beautiful.  It just doesn't get much better than being in the woods on a cool fall day and knowing that you have 10 hours before anyone is going to come looking for you.  And I have to say it was pretty inspiring watching Loel set her sights on completing 31 miles and then using everything she had to do it!  We waded through streams, crossed creek beds and railroad tracks,  ran across a swinging bridge and beside a waterfall.  This course had everything.  The aid stations were magnificent, especially the first one with graham crackers coated with thick nutella spread.  There was so much to take in that the miles just passed one after the other.

some of the rocks we navigated

the swinging bridge over the Patapsco River

At some point Loel and I got separated, which was good for her, since running ahead I took a wrong turn and ended up following another runner a mile and a half off trail.  We should have known something was amiss since I can't imagine any race director  cruel enough to take their runners over a mile of small rocks shaped like cylinders, or as I like to call them, "ankle breakers".  We could have stopped and fashioned cairns, but decided to keep running.

its this way....no that way...no, this way....

  After a while of seeing no ribbons, Butch and I backtracked to find the correct turn that we had missed.  (In our defense, we were looking for the double flagging indicating a turn, and saw just one lone ribbon on the gate - and so we went straight - see Coach, I really do pay attention)  By now Loel had passed, so I tried to really put the hammer down and catch her.  I did, and while she didn't say so, I was pretty sure she hated me.

Her knee was hurting, she had blisters and there were still 4 or 5 miles to go.  But she was a trooper.  She got patched up at the last aid station with tape for her knee, and soldiered on.  But just in case she wanted to be "alone" I left some distance between us!  I really wanted to watch her come in and take some pictures.  I passed a few other runners in the last three miles, and felt really good all the way to the end.  I had enough left to really run down the last hill to the street and then across the field to the finish line.  In true ultra style, the finish banner was anchored down with a jug of barbeque sauce.  What is not to love about ultras.

Look at the ultra woman smile!

Crossing the finish!

She doesn't hate me after all!!

Gimme the Medal

Participation Awards have really gotten a bad rap lately, and I feel partly responsible for that.  Giving everybody something just for showing up seems like a fast track to narcissism (and God knows runners don't need more of that) and somehow seems to take away from the "real" winners. 

However, I have to say that despite running a "meh" time in the Baltimore Marathon on Saturday, I worked really hard for that medal.  This is the second time in the past two runnings of Baltimore that I have gotten sick after the run.  Throwing up in a port-a-pot in the stadium parking lot is not how I envisioned ending this race, but it does tell me that I pushed past my comfort zone in the last few miles.  That's a good thing.

Define "good"

One of the not so great things about getting older is slowing down, and since I am not really ready for that yet, I have been trying to be more intentional about running a little beyond my perceived ability.  And those few minutes can make all the difference between crossing the line happy  (yet with something left in the tank), and fully spent (and puking on the sidelines).  Let's compare my finish pictures at the last two marathons I did just two weeks apart:

"ah, what a beautiful day for a little run"

"take the f**n picture so I can find a bathroom"

Honestly, there was only a 7 minute difference in time, but those 7 minutes were hard earned, and so was the green ribboned medal in the second one.  (the Maryland Double is fun and all, but I had 5 months between races - so not terribly challenging).

The point here is that I have reevaluated my thinking on awards.  No one will really ever know what it means to those getting the trophy, medal, or  mug - how hard they have trained, how hard they raced, what they might have overcome.  I came no where near placing in either race, but the effort was real, and the determination for a strong finish in Baltimore did give me a lot of personal satisfaction.  I didn't need the medal to validate that, but hey, it sure felt good hanging around my neck.

Trail Cred

Remember way back to the beginning of the summer when I devised clever goals for my glorious two month break from work?

Well, I did, and I am happy to report that I nailed two of them.  Getting a handle on my e-mail has been painful, but I finally have a relationship with the "delete" key.  I'm not sure, it might be an unhealthy relationship, since I seem to really be hitting it a lot.  As in I DON'T SAVE ANYTHING!

It might be problematic at some point, but for now, I am free as a bird. I mean, really, what could happen?

My second goal was to lower my overall pace time in running.  This is harder to quantify, especially since my garmin stopped working halfway through the summer.  Well, it still worked, but the display wasn't working, so even though it was getting my times, I had no idea what they were.  Plugging it in the computer seemed obvious, but when the computer also stopped working, it really irritated me.  (Hmmm, wonder if that had anything to do with my first goal...?????)  Anyway, I was lucky to find  an older watch and got back on track after a couple weeks.  And, to my surprise, my times really were dropping!  (See multi-purpose gif  above).

This was further confirmed at the Women's Half Trail Marathon in early September.  I have been doing a lot more trail running in addition to faster road running, and that combined gave me my second best time in 6 years at the half.

Me and Kate, who kept calling me her "trail Mama"

I was pretty happy about that, especially since about 3 miles from the finish I fell HARD.  It was "yeah, I think I broke my finger" hard.  Since I was carrying a handheld in my right hand, and landed pretty much with my hand UNDER the water bottle and my body OVER it, it wasn't pretty.  After a few minutes, I was able to continue running, and since now I was pissed off that my great race time might be threatened, I stepped it up to the finish.  I came across the line covered in dirt, and with three fingers on my right hand pretty swollen.  The middle finger was the worse (of course) so I grabbed some ice and soaked it until I couldn't feel how badly it hurt anymore.  A couple folks at the finish gave me "street cred" for not going to an aid station, but I had to remind them it was "trail cred" and  it wasn't like a bone was sticking out!  Geesh,
A couple weeks later and it still won't bend all the way, but I like to follow the two-week, two month rule:
If in two weeks it feels a little better, give it two months, and just about everything  heals. And lucky for me, I am left handed!!

Challenge Accepted

Motivation has never really been a problem with me.  It seems there is always something that gets me up and out the door.  But it is usually on my terms, in my time and in my way.  When I first heard about the ERR Elementary School Challenge, I thought it would be a fun way to get my summer runs in and meet some new folks "around my way" since so much of my trail running is done at least an hour from here. Unfortunately, the first run came a short two weeks after I was released from the hospital after a disastrous attempt at my second Highland Sky 40.  But it was a "challenge run" ...duh.  That was just part of it.  After that first night, I was not so much as  hooked on the run as obsessed with the idea of committing to running at pre-determined times (by somebody else) for a full 14 months.

and now...you understand

That challenge ended on August 30th of this year, and it was a complete success.  Through heat, snow, freezing rain, and more than a little drama, I ran from one elementary school to the next, winding my way through the beautiful county where I live.  After the first few runs, a fear of missing out developed, which is a sneaky yet brilliant way of compelling the runners to reorganize their lives to make these runs happen.

And then, as often is the case when you come across one good thing, the challenges were everywhere.  No matter where I looked, someone had another challenge MEANT JUST FOR ME!  So June brought the AB challenge, a hard core 30 days of increasingly insane amounts of ab work.  By day 30 I could open a jar of pickles with my stomach.

July was the Tour D'Couch Potato.  100 bike miles by the last week of the month to get a...(wait for it)... cute magnet.  WHAT?  But, you guessed it, I signed up and did it like a boss.

Luckily the ab challenge had ended in June because there was NO way I was riding 25 miles followed by 150 sit ups and 90 second planks.  That would be ridiculous.

So, at the end of the day (which doesn't even fit here, but I love using that expression), all challenges were accepted, started and completed.  And this is all the very cool swag I now own that validates my very compulsive desire to test my stuff (I believe Freud called this "compensation?" hmmmm)

Oh yeah, I accepted one additional challenge too, and while I half hoped I wouldn't get in, I did. So for yet another year, I get to write about preparing for another shot at Umstead.

Having it All

Honestly, I don't know how all these folks run and work simultaneously.  Up until just last week, I taught 3 college classes each semester as an adjunct.  This basically means that you work super hard and get paid super low.  But it worked for me, since I was rewarded with being there for my kids when they came and went from school and I could also transport them to the zillions of places they had to go.  As a bonus, I kept current in my field so that when a full time position came up, I was at a good place in my life to apply.  I went back and forth trying to decide if this was the right path for me, and believe me, "making decisions" was not listed in my resume under CANDIDATE STRENGTHS.

 

I had to do some serious soul searching, and the conversations I had in my head all seemed to focus on my time management skills.  Could I work full time, run a house as a 5 day a week single parent, nurture my kids, and still have time for the things I love to do? I needed some help putting it in perspective.

As much as I stalled, it was a time sensitive matter.

 

In the end it was all good and I took the job, vowing that I would just highly structure my life to still accomplish everything I wanted to do.  Its been a week and a half, and I am exhausted!!

It seems that trying to do everything is really hard. 
But I haven't given up.  Finding the right balance might take a while, but I am not ready to  surrender any of the things I have love to do.  Creative solutions seem to work for a lot of people, so I have already got a plan to run to work 2 days a week.  That is after I get up at 4 to throw dinner in the crock pot, do the laundry, take out the trash and fill out multiple copies of  those blasted school emergency cards.  Who said  you couldn't have it all?