Switchbacks, Snakes and Sliding Boards

So running is never without its inherent risks, especially trail running.  Who would have known one of my most debilitating injuries would come from falling down a sliding board!

I mean, this maybe...but a sliding board??

But yeah, 15 miles into a 20 mile run, I thought it might be fun to go down a vintage wooden slide, and the combination of being wet from sweat, along with not sitting down fast enough caused a full out butt fall.

This doesn't look dangerous at all!

 My tail bone is just beginning to forgive me more than 7 weeks later.  Curiously enough, running didn't hurt at all, in fact, nothing standing hurt, and if I could stand 24/7 for the almost two months it took to heal, it wouldn't have been a problem at all.  It was all that pesky driving, eating, and working that were tricky.

But at least since I could still run, I could train for Holy Cowan's Gap.  It had been almost two months since I ran an ultra, and the itch was starting.  Feeling somewhat of a failure after two attempts at 100 miles, I wanted something that would test my ability to persist/complete something really hard.  I was going to wait until Catoctin in the summer, but really needed a day in the woods, so what the heck.  Even Coach's descriptive email didn't deter me from entering:
 
The course starts with a quite steep medium long rocky climb.  From there it crosses a lot of plateau (you see this in the video) and a lot of rolling hills, and forested and open areas.  Really quite beautiful.  At some point you go into the woods and go slowly downhill, turn right and start up a stream.  No trail, just stream.  With water, ferns, and mud.  It gets steeper and after you don't think it can get much more steep you have to scramble up a hillside to a road.  Cross the road and the world tilts really steeply up.  I mean steep.  Get that done and it is a mixed bag of  geography until you are back at the picnic pavillion.  Out on the northern loop.  Probably 5 miles to the stupid steep hill.  But once you cross the ridge you scramble across a boulder field.  Just a pile of huge rocks, finally out onto a forest road and then you begin to go up again.  And if just gets steeper and steeper and the trail is not maintained, and you are laughing and crying and cussing and screaming at the sky  like a madman until you get over the top and make your way back down.  And then when you don't think it can get worse....you go up again.  And it gets steeper and steeper and you are laughing and crying and cussing and screaming at the sky  like a madman until you get over the top and make your way back down. And then its five miles or so  back to the BBQ... (sounds fun, right???)
 
.For this race, because it is tough, you have to be accepted, so I anxiously awaited my letter.  Even though I have run lots of ultras, I have struggled on a few of the harder ones.  When I saw my name on the entrants list, it occurred to me that now I HAD to finish this! 

To fully appreciate this accomplishment, you probably should take a look at this short video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2_Mei3Rugo
Especially notice how happy all the runners are going up the very straight trails on the mountain.  I really like the runner who says "with all this room, why not have switchbacks??"  Great point.  I guess they are not just for making runners dizzy.  As much as I was up for a challenge, I must admit that the last two times up the mountain were not pretty.

To make this run more super fun, we even came across a rattler hissing on the side of the trail.  Lucky for us, Don talked nice to it, so it calmed down pretty fast.

The views from this run were amazing, and it was a great day out there.  It took me 9++ hours to complete the 31 miles, and it was hard, but the calf massage, great food, wonderful people and beautiful scenery sure made it more than worth it.  I would do it again in a heartbeat!

Pretty Damn Counterculture

Well, I have been MIA for a while, but now that I can actually breath again, I will try to do a quick catch up of my adventures in the last 2 months.   I really wasn't despondent over failing at Umstead, I promise.

I  mean, it was bad and all, but who has time for any kind of emotion when you are on to the next thing before the day is out.  I knew that next up was the AOR race, and last year, that really helped throw me right back into running.  And who can't feel somewhat better dressed like this:

This year I was in van two, which was torturous due to all the waiting. 

I was dressed and ready to run at 4:30 am Friday morning and did not run a step until close to 3 pm that afternoon, and that wasn't even my scheduled leg!  But it was a lot of fun and despite my ADHD tendencies, I was able to calm down enough to get some sleep.  We passed through one gorgeous site after another, from the actual course to the "borrowed" house where we caught a couple hours of down time.

There is nothing like a van load of six sweaty runners to make you forget about your troubles. Even taking a mile and a half detour on leg 10 did not dampen my spirit, and the 3 am run through Antietam was nothing short of incredible.

replace candles with glowsticks and it almost looked like this...well not really

 So between AOR and my latest race, there was a trip to NYC, a trip to Ocean City (both for work) and a couple very long runs in the Massanutten Mountains and on the Appalachian Trail.   I kept training to run long, but hadn't really picked out a good race.  I just knew that I had to do something to prove to myself that I COULD.  Hmmm, that Cowan's Gap looks interesting.  Yes, we ultra runners are a very strange breed.  Case in point...the article below.  The big fear that ultra running is becoming too popular, because, you know, so many people want to strap water on their back, pack toilet paper and take off into the woods for multiple hours (or days) at a time!

.I especially like "...Calm down. Ultrarunning is still pretty damn counterculture."
http://www.outsideonline.com/1977961/reality-check-ultrarunning-not-mainstream


It may just be our quirky-ness that makes ultrarunners interesting and annoying at the same time.  

Now I Know

Throwing up IS NOT an acceptable reason to pull out of a hundred miler.  As my coach would tell me:
"If you are sick to your stomach, there is nothing to be gained by dropping.  Sit in the AS and have people warm you up, drink ginger ale, get some ginger, relax, and don't drop until they make you.  You will feel better and you will be able to start up again." 

And as usual, he is right. Because now on Tuesday, I feel perfectly fine - no pain, no blisters, no muscle soreness.  Just a lingering regret at having stopped.  Damn.  At the time though, it was such a hard call.  50 miles down, with the last 12 spent stepping off the trail to puke against a tree.  But once I was back at base camp, once I sat down, I didn't get sick again.  I was cold, I was tired, but I didn't get sick - not once.  Had I listened to my knowledgeable crew chief, Pam, I would have layed down, got warm and after a time, probably been able to soldier on.  

The day started fine.  I was up at 3:30, out the door at 5 and happy to start in the cold darkness.  Everyone was in such a nervous but happy mood.  The rhythm of the run soon overtook me and I just went.  Airport spur, trail, half way aid station.  I didn't really remember much from last year, or it looked different, because we were back at the start so quickly.  I looked but didn't see my gear, so I simply went back out again.  There was nothing I needed, I felt fine.  I stopped at the aid station to grab some food, pb and j, some pepsi, and headed off.  By  now the sun was up and while it was not warm yet, it was comfortable in my jacket and vest.  I wasn't going fast, just running comfortably and enjoying the journey so much.  At about the 7 mile mark (19 miles in) I felt like my legs were sluggish and reminded myself to take advil before the next loop.  I know, I know, advil is bad, bad, bad, but the cold really does make my muscles tense up and just 400 mg really helps with that.  Not even a therapeutic dose really.  The next time through, I was able to get to my gear and grab what I needed.  I had eaten the pb and j, some pretzels and now I grabbed a quarter of a turkey sandwich and my protein shake.  As I headed out again, someone snapped my picture and said, "wow, you sure look like you've gotten a second wind" because of how well I was running."  That whole third loop I felt great.  I didn't drink all the shake, maybe about 1/3 before I left it in an aid station trash can.  I did finish the sandwich.  Again, nothing to alert me of the disaster ahead.  

Starting the 4th loop, I grabbed a very small amount of mountain dew.  I have taken this before in races, in very small doses.  I also had to take some thyroid meds, so did that while I changed my shoes and socks.  I was having no problems with my feet at all, but my socks were getting damp, and I wanted to head off any issues.  The body glide seemed to work wonders.  I put on my Hokas, and left my Asics to dry out in case I wanted them for Lap 5.  After 5 minutes or so I was on my way again.  I got about 1 mile down the road when I started to feel so sick.  It was sudden and powerful, and I barely made it off the trail before I began throwing up.  Dry heaves at first and then all the contents of my stomach.  Yuk.  I stood there stunned for a moment and then turned to go back to the start and my crew.  But getting sick had actually made me feel better than I had been feeling, so I turned again and continued on.  I still felt a little off, but no different than I have felt before in races and I figured it would eventually pass.  And it did...for a little while.  But every two or three miles, I would get the urge to be sick, and I did get sick, and the feeling would be gone.  I was trying to take water, and sucked on ginger, both which seemed to help, but by the time I got to the 7 mile aid station, (about 45 miles in) I needed to sit down -a combination of actually getting sick and not keeping any fluids down.  The volunteers were wonderful.  They suggested chicken broth, which I drank and after talking myself into getting up, I actually started to feel better as I headed out for the 5 miles to the start/finish loop area.  This 5 miles is quite hilly, and it seemed very long.  But I made progress and got back to my crew.
I had alerted them by text back at the aid station that I was having trouble.  I was on the fence about continuing but with the broth and a moment to sit down, I did really feel better.  Once back though, and again sitting, I didn't want to get up.  My stomach now hurt from the violence of my heaving and I was so cold from the slow pace of the last few miles.  The night was going to be one of the coldest on record (23 degrees) and the thought of continuing seemed impossible. 

I did listen and did not drop right away.  I tried to envision continuing, but in that moment, all I knew was I was so warm and not throwing up and I just wanted to bury myself under a blanket in my chair.  And I did.  The decision was made.  
The WRONG decision I now know.  Because this was the year I should have finished.  I was well trained and had put in the hours on the roads and trails.  I had survived a very cold winter and obstacles at every turn at work.  I had made my way through personal stuff that could very well have drained the life from me.  How can I be so tough...and then not tough enough??

But, its over now and I am left to think about what is next, much like last year at this time.  I made it then and I'll make it now.  And I'll never stop trying for that elusive 100.

Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me.

 

Third Time's the Charm

Two weeks from today I will have finished my frantic packing and will hopefully be cruising towards North Carolina.  Wow.  What a difference a year makes.  Last year Umstead was my primary focus, my goal, my point of light.

This year, its more like "wait, what?" It is mid March and I still have a Christmas wreath on my door and snowmen decorating my kitchen.  My spare time is taken up with grading papers and running, and sometimes I even combine the two and grade on my treadmill.

But it is really okay because despite my lack of sleep, my running has been pretty consistent, and I even have cut some time in the past year.  I am banking on the fact that not only have I been training to run, but I certainly have aced going without sleep for 24 hours at a time.  After last year's fiasco with my feet, I went online and purchased the book "Fixing Your Feet" and read the chapters on blister prevention.  It was okay until the chapter with 142 remedies for blisters.  Really I was just looking for one remedy, two tops, because I am not good at making decisions (as I have established numerous times on this blog), so trying to figure out which would work best was pretty mind numbing.  I decided to go with lube, duct tape, and safety pins. Pop it and plug it...that's my strategy.

I am so very lucky to have my same posse from last year all agreeing to crew me again.  These ladies are so knowledgeable about running a 100 that I'm convinced they will get me across the finish line.   I really missed running with them through the night last year so that is what is going to keep me going as the sun goes down.

yeah, we will be that fast!

All in all, I am ready.  I have one last long run and then I'm off, and hoping the third time is really the charm.

But whatever the outcome, I am much more relaxed and that might even work in my benefit!

Slip Sliding Away

"Crampons would be handy."  That is the thought the bounced around my head about 10 feet into the Hashawha Hills 50K.  And the ridiculous thing was that I had them, but left them in my bag.  But I was convinced that since I positioned myself well at the end of the line of runners, a nice compacted path would soon present and I would be in the clear.

Well, that plan might have worked if it was above 15 degrees, but the 8+ inches of snow along with the freezing temps meant that I spent the first 15 miles of this run alternating between making my way through snow so fluffy and deep that it barely retained footprints to losing my balance and crashing down through the crusty snow pack on the side of the trail.  In all  fairness, many other runners with spikes, yak traks and screws really didn't fare much better.  But my trusty trail shoes were no match for the ice and snow, and I found myself on the ground covered in snow more than once.

she's going down (again)

The first loop of the run was a challenge - 96 starters with only 53 deciding to continue on the second loop.  Lucky for me, I had put my crampons in my bag. Unlucky for me that I hadn't brought my bag to the aid station pavilion!  Since I fantasized the entire first half of picking up my spikes, I almost thought of increasing the drop number to 54. But I am not a quitter, and even though it took me a full hour and a half longer to complete the first 15 miles than previous years, I nodded my head when asked if I was going to continue.

It was a beautiful day for a run.  As I have written previously, Hashawha holds such a special place for me and even the less than perfect trail conditions did not deter me from enjoying myself.  Sure, I had snot freezing from my nose to my chin, and tiny snow balls were collecting in double digit numbers along my ankles, but it wasn't going to stop me.  I just kept "plowing" away.  Interestingly enough, the fields, which always present a difficult section of the course with the ankle twisting corn cobs, were a non-issue this year. In fact, they were so beautiful with their views of open snow covered hills and farms far in the distance.  (I would insert pictures here, but my hands were so encased in gloves and hot hands, I dared not take them off)

can't do jazz hands with frostbit fingers

The second 15 mile loop was really much better than the first.  Even though it never got above freezing, the sun was out strong and bright, and really did make a huge difference.  Now the trail was more compact and it made running at least a little more possible.  Downhills were still tough and more than a few times I just threw out my arms, said a Hail Mary and threw myself down the trail.

me going down the butt slide...who needs a stinkin' rope!

The second half, while it took longer time-wise, really seemed to go faster than the first.  All the volunteers were absolutely stellar and so supportive.  Even though they had been out all day, they were so kind and made sure I had everything I  needed to finish the run.  I was so worried because the cut off was 9 hours, and try as I did, I came in at 9:03.  But a raucous cheering section greeted me as I crossed the line and put a fantastic finisher's mug in my hand.  Very cool!!  Hashawha now is the trail where I hold my 50K PR and also the course where I hold my ST (slowest time).  Just goes to show that no two trail runs are the same, even on the same course, and I love that!  RD Coach sums it up best here 
and Jonathan Gowen captures it beautifully here.

so worth it!

I'm Fine...REALLY!

Well it has been a hell-ish couple of weeks, so I won't even try and sugar coat.  I had an amazing 24 mile run about 3 weeks ago, and went downhill soon after.  And not the good downhill where you fly your arms out and pretend you are floating, but the fever, chills, and not able to eat a thing for days kind.  Believe it or not, I got out to run a couple times during that week, not realizing I was sick and just thinking I was a really bad and slow runner. 

It was finally Friday night when it occurred to me that I might not be as immune to getting sick as I always like to brag about.  Fast forward to a weekend in bed, and another full week of not eating and feeling like someone had turned me inside out and hung me from a tree.  (I don't know, I guess I have been watching too much of Alaska - the last frontier.)

How can you not love these guys

Anyway, every time I thought I was getting better and would have a decent meal, my stomach quickly nixed that plan.  When I finally did start to feel a little better, I tried to continue on with my training.  I had a 50K planned for Feb. 07th, so did exactly what you are suppose to do when you miss a week and a half of training...I ran 40 miles from Sunday-Friday and capped it off with another 31 on Saturday.

A 70 mile week and ...Yeah, I got sick again.  But, the good news is, that only lasted for that afternoon and part of Sunday, so by  Monday I was fit as a fiddle again.  I took it easy until yesterday, when I finally felt like my good old self on an 11 mile run.

Actually, the 50K on Saturday (Mid Maryland 50K) was a really nice run.  The weather was just about perfect, all things considered.  The trail, which is 5 loops of a 10K, was frozen for the first 3, and that made it pretty runnable.  There were some "grab a tree" icy spots, but for the most part, they were short and not an issue.  On the 4th loop, things started to get dicey and by the 5th, it was a slop fest, as I suspected it would be as the ground thawed.  I really wanted to break 7 hours, so I pushed myself and that is probably why I had a stomach relapse.  This is not a difficult trail run, but sometimes that can be mentally more challenging, because there is no reason to walk, like a really steep incline or ridiculous rocks.  Other than the iced over areas and a few really root-y sections, this trail was fully runnable.  This is the third time I have done Mid Maryland, and I really do like it.  Knowing what to expect from each sections helps to break it up and makes it go so much faster.  Running through the pavilion at the end of each loop is comforting and resets my mind for the next loop.  It is good training for Umstead because it  has a lot of the same features on a smaller scale.  And I do like my new habit of totally zoning out while I am running.  I guess it is as close to some transformative state like yoga, that this hyper girl will ever achieve.

And in the end, it was all good.  I finished with a smile on my face and medal around my neck.  Can't ask for much more than that on a cold day in February!

The Photo Album Behind My Eyes

Sunday was an incredible day on the trail.  Snow had fallen and the trail was a glistening, powder sugar covered wonderland.  In fact, towards the end of my 15 mile run, I plopped down and made a snow angel overlooking the reservoir.   A perfect snow angel on the edge of the trail providing trail magic to whomever might next traverse the path.  I promise this is true, although I don't have a single picture to prove it.  And while I would like to say that doesn't bother me, it kind of does.  Because I had my phone, and I did indeed take pictures.  But it is a new phone, and somehow, while uploading the pics onto the computer, they disappeared.  No digital record of my run, no evidence of my playfulness or heirloom of hours spent dancing in the woods.  Why, why does that matter???  I did it - I was there!  I was lucky enough to see the snow covered hills, the "dippin dots" phenomenon that made the snow look like tiny little balls of Styrofoam.   I slipped on the frozen puddles, and felt the cold down my neck and back as I laid down and flapped my arms and legs to make an angel.  I smelled the icy dampness, caught my foot on covert roots and rocks hidden by snow, and slid once, twice, three times on steep inclines.  But somehow, without the camera documentation, it seems somehow unworthy to post.  I don't like that.  I don't like that without pictures, my run doesn't seem as important - like it was wasted.  Like I need a do-over (with pictures) to make it official.  I often look judgmentally on my kids as they view their world through their phones.  The don't look at things, they take pictures of them.  And that makes me sad.  More so because I am realizing that I am doing it too.  So, while I know I will still take pictures, I think my resolution this year will be to "see" the world using my eyes more, and my camera less.  I feel certain that thinking back and remembering my snowy run will give me a better picture than any phone can provide.