Status Report

So far, I am doing pretty well on my summer goals.  I managed to get my personal e-mail down to 17 before it crept up again and is hovering at 33.  That is a manageable number that I can deal with.  The work e-mail, well, lets just say that will take a lot more time and a lot more discipline.  WHY do I get so much mail???

I have unsubscribed from about every professional posting site and still, it barely made a dent.  Oh well, I still have until August 15th before I consider it a miserable fail.
And as for the running goal, I am pretty pumped that I did a crazy hard  6 mile hill run on Sunday without walking one single time!  That might not be so impressive for you elites, but my asthma has been a bear since May, and there were even a few times I was worried I would die right there on the road.

Luckily, my doc has no trouble prescribing multiple drugs that work wonders.  And while I really hate taking medication, I hate dying more, so I am okay with it.

And on the subject of drugs, we only have two more challenge runs to complete the Elementary School Challenge, so my running group has decided to jump the gun and start another challenge tonight that involves starting and finishing our runs at local pubs.  And while I don't drink, these challenges are so good for me, because I really am a solitary person who could easily go days without seeing another soul.  And don't even get me started on phone calls. 

I guess that is why I love the trail so much.  But I know I have to make more of an effort, so these challenge runs force me to get out and be social.  Its a struggle, but I do it!  And hopefully, the more I step outside of my comfort zone, the more I will  be able to feel "normal" and actually start a conversation.  Oh great, another goal for the summer!

me at every party I have ever attended

Squeezing Out Every Bit of Summer

When my kids were little, we would celebrate the summer solstice (aka: the longest day of the year) by spending all night at the pool as we anxiously waited for the lights to come on in the water, and then taking a final swim before changing into pj's right there at the swim club and stopping for ice cream on the way home.  It was my way of holding onto every second of light before the days started to get shorter.  Even though there is a lot of summer left, it feels different after that one day.

This is the best night of my entire life

There is something about summer nighttime running that  is magical.  Maybe it is the long shadows, or the smell of  honeysuckle, or the feeling that the day will never end, even as the sun is fading.  I have had several of those runs these past two weeks as we ramped up the Elementary School Challenge into a summer series of just 3 weeks.  4 runs a week, following the same pattern we began last June at our first challenge run.  That is a lot of running and a lot of pretty sights along the way.  We have finished runs just drenched with sweat on  95 degree evenings, as well as slightly damp on an unexpected cool and breezy night.

Each run starts where the previous run finished, so we have made our way from one side of the county to the other, and I am amazed at all the beauty that surrounds me.  As many times as I have driven these same routes, I have not fully appreciated how pretty the farms look at twilight, or how sweet the log cabin is surrounded by wild flowers.

The hills are tough to run up, but those views from the top make the trip more than worth it.
Summer should be about exploring, playing, and squeezing every moment out of every day, and that is what I am doing!

Aiming High

I have two huge goals this summer before I start back working full time - one is running related and one is "life" related, although it is really hard to separate the two.  You know, the whole "I live to run, I run to live" equation.  Basically, anything that helps my life must make me a better runner, right?

Usually, organization comes pretty easily to me.  Clearing out, sorting, and throwing things away is not something I generally have trouble with....until it comes to e-mail.  For some bizarre reason, I just can't hit the delete button.  Or the archive button.  Or any other button.  So all my mail is either "old mail" that carries this distinction until AOL has had enough of my hoarding ways and gets rid of it, or it is still in my inbox.  This has become a problem as I tetter very near the 200 threshold.  That just seems unreasonable.

So my plan is to start at the bottom and just  get rid of stuff.   What is really interesting is that when I go out to my mailbox (the real kind, you know, in the dirt, by the street), I have no problem at all standing over the recycling bin and just tossing stuff.  WHY CAN'T I DO THAT WITH DIGITAL MAIL????

My second goal is a direct running goal:  lower my weekly average pace.  It doesn't have to be all Usain Bolt fast, but I have found myself creeping towards comfortable running, rather than that place between "that was awesome" and "I may throw up".  I miss that.

I wanna do this happy dance again

At least for some of my runs.  I have added some more road races into the schedule, thinking that might provide incentive to kick it up a notch, so we'll see how that goes. It'll be tough for sure - this season has been a bugger for allergies and asthma.  Saturday's 18 mile run on the Catoctin Trail was pretty hard, but damn, was it beautiful!

maybe this was why I was wheezing??

Still, I know that I won't get any faster without working on it, so that is the plan, and I have been here before. It sucks and it hurts and it feels so good!  It takes discipline, just like clearing my e-mail.  But at the end of the summer, I am hoping that the results were worth the pain of the struggle.

Running the Numbers

Every December I spend some time with my running calendar, looking over the past year.  Nothing extraordinary about that - in fact, I am sure most runners do something similar.  Or did something similar until they discovered Strava, GarminVivo, Map My Run or DailyMile.  I was late getting on board with the technology thing, but I will tell you, I am really starting to like the weekly pep talks I get from DM, my new best e-friend.

Reading  "awesome training this week!" or "great running week!" gives me purpose and just the dose of enthusiasm I need to get out there.   And instead of having to dig out my calculator on a snowy pre-January 1st weekend, I now rely on my app to figure it all out.  See, who needs Common Core Math anyway!

What this is all telling me is that I am running.  A lot.  I am nearly to my goal of 1000 miles by June 30th.  For the past few years, I have wanted to run 2000 miles in one year.  But not by being all freaky and PLANNING to do it.  I just wanted it to happen.

So every December I tally and see if I made it.  Then I wring my hands when I see I am 134 miles off, 79 miles off, or 26 miles off.  I do realize that if I counted earlier than December 31, I could actually go out and run the remaining miles (okay, maybe not the 134) but it doesn't seem as much fun that way. Its the mystique of not knowing that makes it a challenge.

Its a Brutiful Life

I like the word "brutiful".  I can't take credit for it, but mashing "beautiful" and "brutal" really sums up the last week.  Really the last month.  I am still running, but in a more relaxed, therapeutic way, which is so different from my running for the last almost two years.  It feels good.  It feels bad.  I am not sure how it feels.
After Umstead, I went to New York, I ran the American Odyssey Relay, I ran the Frederick "Nut Job" (the 5k Saturday night and the 1/2 marathon Sunday morning).  I have run a few of the Elementary School Challenge runs and even logged some buddy miles.  I have signed up for some races, but nothing long, and nothing trail related.  This is not good for me.  Floundering is not something I am good at, so I have to come up with a plan.

Unrelated to running, in this same brutiful month, I have applied for a new job, and been called back once, twice, three times for interviews.

I have finished out the semester with exams, grading, and topped it all with a gorgeous new (first) granddaughter.

Things are changing so fast, I can barely keep up.  And that is why running is so important.  Putting my shoes on and getting out the door is about the only constant I have had in the last 4 or 5 weeks.  Its automatic, its comforting, its direction with no real clue as to where I might be going.   But I will keep putting one foot in front of the other until I figure out what my next goal should be.  Spoiler alert: it will involve a long run and a trail, of that I am certain.  Just trying to nail down the when and where.  Because I will never take for granted being able to get out there and just going.  It helps make a better me for all the other things going on in my brutiful life.

There is Life After Umstead

I guess it is good for me that I have the attention span of a two year old. Or a rat. The source of my misery is usually easily replaced by something else fairly quickly.

Such was the case this past weekend when I repacked almost everything I had just unpacked, and headed off to the American Odyssey Relay.   I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to do the relay, but I am pretty sure I thought I would still be riding the happy train of success from my first 100 miler.  And of course, anything after that distance seemed doable.  Not only did I eagerly sign up, but I also volunteered to run the hardest leg 6, seven miles with an elevation gain of over 1000 feet in the last 3 miles.  Whatever, I was invincible, right????

who put that there?

After the wheels fell off at Umstead, I was in somewhat of a funk, questioning my existence, the meaning of life, and all that other stuff that comes with planning and waiting, and goal setting and failing. 

I was even doubting myself running the relay, even though my total mileage would only be ~20 miles, less than half of what I was able to run just three weeks before.  But my feet were torn up,  I was still nursing a sore ankle, and while I had met my team mates at organizational meetings and challenge runs, I didn't know anyone very well.  I was unsettled, hesitant, and full disclosure, more than a little nervous.

But then something funny happened the minute I got in Van #1.  I immediately felt like I had known everyone for a very long time.  They welcomed me, encouraged me, and made me feel like an important part of their team.  I was one of the "cool kids" and I ended up having a blast.  I laughed so hard that two days later I still have sore stomach muscles from the shenanigans that went on in that van and during the 33+ hours that we spent together.  

So to all the ERR folks, you are a pretty special group of people.  I am sorry I didn't get to know you sooner, but I suspect that I will be running with you again!

A Sad Sad Tale or "My Sissy Feet Took Me Down"

Lap 4...about 47 miles in.  I knew I was compensating trying to not step on the bulging fluid filled sac that was the entire bottom of my foot.  The trail went up hill now and the rocks were loose, and suddenly, I felt/heard the pop and I know I screamed.  Loudly.  I also felt the liquid filling my shoes from the inside out.  I stopped and someone behind me asked if I was alright.  At that moment I thought I might throw up, so I waved him on and just stood there contemplating what to do next.

In the end it was my feet - pure and simple- that prevented me from finishing what was to be my first 100 mile race.  I would never have suspected it and if anyone asked what might keep me from heading out on the 5th loop, blisters would have been close to the bottom of the list.  I have run for over 25 years and while I have had minor blisters, well, nothing like this...or even close.  But on this day, in this race, my feet would be my undoing.

The weekend started perfectly.  It took a while to get to Raleigh, but it was a fun road trip with beautiful weather, and when we stopped for dinner around 7, the flowers were blooming, it was still plenty light and just beginning to get cool.  We ate, continued on our way and made it to the hotel about 10 pm.  We left a day early just for that reason - wanted a day to familiarize ourselves with where we were going and just have a chance to relax.  While I had everything "arranged" I hadn't done the final "packing" so I wanted time for that as well.

Full disclosure: I was somewhat overwhelmed and ended up just throwing everything in the car figuring we had most of the day Friday to make a real plan.  The manic weather forecast went from  heat to rain to cool so it was a crap shoot knowing what to wear or bring.  Of course I brought everything.  Still, we ended up in Dicks, Target and Home Depot getting things that I suddenly felt like I needed.  Such a rookie!

We headed over to the park early, probably before 1 pm to find out where we would be assigned parking and to pick up my number.  We were in parking lot B, which wasn't very far from the start/finish.  We scouted around a while, and took pictures before finding the cabin to pick up the race stuff.  I felt so amazing - so confident and healthy.  I had no doubt in my mind I could get this thing done!

We left the park and came back later for the Runner Briefing in the evening.  It was warm, but exciting and all the first timers had to stand and take an oath to "Eat before we were hungry, Drink before we were thirsty, and Walk before we were tired!"  Check, not a problem.  I had plenty of practice with each of those.  And on walking out of the cabin, we were pleasantly surprised to see my amazing crew, Pam, Nanette and Lucia, who had come all the way from Carroll County/DC to support me.  I am so lucky!

We decided not to stay for the race dinner - it was really warm and I am so superstitious about eating unfamiliar food - we decided to just get a pizza in the room while the crew did a little pre-pace partying!  Not really, but I did hear that they had a wild scrabble game!  It was hard to go to sleep that night, especially since the hotel, in addition to hosting guests for Umstead, was also hosting a biker convention...wtf??  (Not the best combination, but I am not sure I would have slept well regardless, so at least it was entertaining listening to the conversations outside the window. 

Finally, Saturday morning and I was off.  And really, the first two 12.5 mile loops were big fun and uneventful.  I ran, I walked, I ate, I drank.  I felt pretty good and while it was a warm day, I wasn't uncomfortable.  About half way into the second loop, I made a mental note to change my shoes and socks (I wore trail shoes, and this was very "untrail" running- more of a packed stone road).  I thought that changing into my road shoes would feel better since I didn't need the traction of my montrails.  So at ~24 miles, I switched out my socks, powdered my feet, put on the new shoes and was on my way.  Fine and dandy until about half way through when I had passed the mid way aide and was making my way up the hillier section of the trail.  I started feeling hot spots, but they came and went, so when I came into the main aid for the third time, I didn't bother too much with my feet. I was feeling a little nauseous at that point, so hubby walked the spur with me, until my stomach settled and I went on.  All was fine for miles - I was getting tired, but was eating and drinking and starting to feel better stomach-wise.  I loved seeing the frontrunners, who by now had lapped me, just cruising along.  Everyone was so kind and supportive.  I ran and walked with so many people all giving me first time advice, especially to drink, since it was a warm breezy day.  One guy gave me a whole explanation about why wicking clothes are bad in certain temperatures, because they fool your body into thinking you aren't sweating, so you tend not to drink.  Interesting.

At the mid way aid station, there were four port a pots, and one was marked "Women Only!".  What a great idea!  It felt nice to have a break from the woods, which didn't provide much privacy yet!  I headed out again, and only then did I start to feel bubbles growing on the balls of both feet.  What??  I wasn't sure what was going on, but I had passed the manned aid and all that was available the next 6 miles was unmanned tables so I continued on.  I knew it was getting warmer and I was sweating more, so I shouldn't have been surprised when I felt a real blister developing on my right foot.  It seemed to be at the base of my big toe, but rapidly growing.  One thing I did not carry with me in my pack was duct tape, or really anything to do something for my feet, so I kept going, but was shocked and dismayed at how quickly my feet were degrading.  The last 5 miles of the 12 had a lot of hills with larger rocks on top of the road, and because the weather was so dry, there was also a very fine grit that was on top of everything.  Not sure if this contributed to my foot woes, but by mile 47 I was in pain. The right blister on the ball of my foot had popped and after a few stinging moments, it stopped hurting, but my left foot was just in a world of hurt.  I am not sure why I didn't just sit down and pop it then and there on the side of the road with my fingernail, but I didn't, and instead figured I would make it to the main aid station and take care of it then.  But I ended up trying to run and then walk on the very outside of my foot, so my ankle was also beginning to hurt.  I decided to go back to running on my full foot, up the hills, but on the first push off, that blister burst, and here I was.  Not sure what to do with almost 3 miles left to run to get back to the aid station.   I have given birth twice without medication so am no sissy when it comes to pain.  But this was as if I was walking on shards of broken glass, and every time I stepped on another small rock, it made it that much worse.  Thank God I had my music.  I focused on that as I made my way the last few miles.  Each step ignited an internal debate with my brain insisting that my foot not be put back down on the ground.  I was not alone in my misery at that point, which didn't make it better, but did provide a distraction.  A few of the folks who were finishing 62 miles were in the woods with various ailments, trying to just keep going.  Honestly, the people who looked the most comfortable were the ones who were far behind (but who ultimately made it the whole way....hmmmm.)
As I came up on the 50 mile mark, I didn't see how I could go on.  I had been talking to another runner for the last mile who had finished several  hundreds, and he said that although the aid stations were good with blisters, trying to save my feet for another 50 miles might be more than they could patch up. Once they got so big and burst, it would be hard to save the feet.  As I climbed the steps to the timers, I knew I had to tap out.  I could hardly walk, and even if they were able to fix up my feet, the pain had made me so nauseous that I knew I was behind eating and drinking in the last 5 miles.  I was ready... to be done.  So sadly, and without fanfare, I took the 50 mile finish and sat down.
My biggest regret was not getting to do the evening part of the run with my dear friends.  I was so looking forward to hours of talking and running and walking and hearing stories.  I think I was more looking forward to this than the actual finish.  I felt so sad that they had made the journey to N.Carolina, only to have to turn around and go home without running with me at all.  They were so very gracious though, and still made me feel good for getting to the 50.  I think they knew as soon as I took my shoes off that there was  no saving this run.

So many things to think about if I try this again.  First, I was too impatient to get out of the aid stations.  Taking the time to assess what I needed and how I felt should have been my first priority, but I was most concerned about moving forward.   Second, I was pretty ignorant about the trail surface.  I was not at all expecting packed stone, and while I have done lots of miles on roads and even rail trails, this surface seemed to really irritate my feet.  As we drove into the park, I remember seeing dirt trails in the woods and thinking how nice and spongy that would feel.  Now I know.  And I think the last thing that I learned is that no matter how much you prepare, or want something, knowing when to stop is a good thing.  I don't think I could have pushed myself to continue, or been talked into it, but maybe I could have.  I'm not sure, but for that moment, stopping was the right thing for me. I can always second guess now, but right there, with my feet on fire and my stomach rebelling, I did the best I could do.