I woke up on the same side of the bed I always do, but for some reason, today it was the wrong side. I knew it as I pulled on my running clothes at 5:30. The coffee was helpful for the tiredness, but the foul mood was not budging. My body wanted sleep. Very, very badly. I told myself that running tired was something I MUST do. My legs weren't sore or heavy, nor did my feet hurt. But my body was just not right. I had logged 64.7 miles last week and by all accounts, had the right to a day off now. But I wasn't taking one.
This morning John was up too. He and I had agreed we would do 12 miles today. Poor John. Today would have been a good day for the guy to sleep in and a good day for me to run alone. "Did you get our stuff out of your truck from LAST week?" I snapped as he drank his coffee. I was referring to our hydration belts as well as the bottles that I never recalled washing since our last long run. "Nope. Thought maybe you did." God I was irritated! Why do I have to do EVERYTHING around here! He sensed my mood and headed out to get our stuff. Meanwhile I thought how nice it would be to just head out alone, put in my music and run. But we were possibly going to have company and I would need to at least act a little cheerful so I wouldn't lose friends! I didn't want to talk though. I was so damn grumpy today! I did say the simple, yet effective prayer of "Lord, get into my head before I do..." but being that it was Sunday, God was asleep because I remained in quite a mood (I had forgotten that on the 7th day, the Lord rested).
We got in the car and headed to the park. I informed John that if no one came, I would be listening to music, not conversing with him. He seemed more than happy to get his own head phones! Once he got a taste of my mood, he was probably ecstatic that I didn't want to "talk" (aka "YELL at") him. On the way, Kim texted that she would not be coming. Late night, no sleep... not doing 12 miles. I am being totally honest when I say I was glad. Not that Kim wasn't running, but rather that I wouldn't have to pretend to be in a good mood. If Suttan was meeting us, it would be a bit later and I figured that I'd be a bit better off with a few miles under my belt. If Sarah were coming, we'd say our hellos, run maybe a 1 mile warm up together and she'd be off at a faster pace. I think I'd also warn her I was in a mood and then she wouldn't think twice about being insulted that I was bitchy. So knowing I was going to get a little time to sweeten up was good.
We started off in the darkness and I had my headphones plugged into my iphone. I was listening to Pandora radio and unfortunately, could not get it to change from Lady Gaga radio due to the weak internet signal on the running/bike trail. That music did nothing to change my mood. I could hear John's shoes heavily hitting the pavement, so I turned up the volume so that I wouldn't be annoyed that he wasn't lighter on his feet when he ran (I think I am going to lose a bunch of running friends after this blog.... everyone will be afraid I'll pick them apart. But don't worry, no one else's running form bothers me a bit. I only save that for the person who loves me no matter what! Lucky John).
Finally I was able to switch the Pandora station. I'm going out on a limb when I admit that I changed it to Celine Dion Holiday station. I did. Yes I know I am getting so laughed at, but the right music can always change my demeanor and this morning, that was the right music for a little bit.
I'm not sure which mile, or what song was playing, but I suddenly remembered that it was September 11th. I was immediately brought back to that day in 2001... where I was, what I was doing and what my then 10 month old baby girl was wearing as she crawled across the living room floor while I stared in disbelief at the television. I was to meet Krista at the zoo that day. We walked around in silence at a very empty zoo. Most of the time, that place was packed on a beautiful fall-ish day. It was the most surreal day ever. I knew how horrific it was, but yet felt very disconnected from it all. Almost as if it was happening in another world. It was as if it would not impact my world as I knew it... wife, mother of two little ones, labor and delivery nurse.
Over the course of 10 years, I no longer feel that way. I thought about how life as we know it can change in a split second. I was tired this morning, but not because I was up all night mourning the sudden loss of a spouse, like my little sister had done. I was tired, but not because I couldn't sleep because I ached for my three year old son, who ran across the street at just the wrong second, like the family whose baby I ran a race for yesterday. I was tired, but not because I was up with my 13 year old son who was fighting for his life on the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit at Children's Hospital. I was tired, but not because I was working and raising a family on my own because someone I loved was killed on September 11th, 2001. No, I was tired because I am healthy enough to train for an ultra-marathon. And in the course of doing so, running next to the person I love most in the world, who was also running to spend time doing something that meant so much to his wife.
I was suddenly keenly aware of the extreme sacrifices that our service men and women make to keep our country safe. I was trying to imagine kissing my husband/wife/child/parent goodbye as they leave to go fight for freedom. I can't imagine. And so I will just pray for those that do and for the safe return for those that are leaving. One of them being my cousin, Matt Corey, leaving very soon for Afganistan with the Navy. I hadn't seen Matt in over 10 years until this past spring when he came out to run the Flying Pig half marathon for Team Mitch. I thank God for the opportunity I had to see him, joke with him, and even run with him for a bit during the race. I pray for his safe return when his mission is over.
When our run was over (which we cut short by two miles because I just wasn't feeling it today), I came home and got my family ready for mass. Yes, I remained mostly tired and grumpy today. But at certain points during the day, there was heightened awareness of the many blessings in my life. Listening to Deacon Meyer preach on the topic of forgiveness, watching my 10 year old daughter play an awesome game of soccer in between rain and lightening delays. Today these moments were huge for me.
This Saturday I will get to run the Air Force Marathon with a group of my running friends. I think I will look at the whole experience differently given the timing of this marathon. Running on Wright Patterson Air Force base will have a deeper meaning than it would if this race were in the spring. I imagine it will for all those running in or spectating the race.
Thank you, God, for getting into my head today. And to think I thought you were sleeping in!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Training Rut
There could not possibly be a worse time of day to sit and start a new post. But Nancy said she is having "Kate's blog withdrawal" this morning and that actually made me smile! To be honest, I simply haven't had much down time or desire lately. But Nancy, today you gave me a reason :)
In addition to my love of running, I also love to write. It provides an awesome outlet for anger and sadness, but also is a great place to display great joy and happiness. But what do you do when your thoughts and feelings are somewhere in the middle? How do you blog about a present mundane state of mind? Training continues, and like many I know preparing for fall marathons, I am running low on motivation and pep. I see it in some of the runners I am coaching.... these high mileage weeks before the taper are taking their toll physically and emotionally. Some of them are first timers and I have said "stay strong... the end is near and crossing the finish line will make all the challenges worth it...." Taking my own advice has proven a bit harder than I expected. I began training at the same time and have a month longer to go. Suddenly the drive to run 50 miles is slowly dwindling. Because I'm tired. I want to stay in bed longer on the weekends and drink coffee. I want to go out on Saturday night and not worry about getting up the next morning at the ass-crack of dawn to run. I wonder if some of my runners (I'm calling them "my runners" because I have controlled their running schedules for 15 weeks... they really aren't "mine", I know) realize that their coach is right there with them. I debated on whether or not to blog this. After all, what happens when the motivator loses motivation? When people say "How do you stay so positive and motivated about running?", I want to look them in the eye and say "Honestly, right now, I am not!" No one is doing what I'm doing or even can understand the why I'm doing it. I get a lot of "Oh you are running 50 miles? Hmmm...sounds a little stupid if you ask me." I have no one to commiserate with about my insecurities over whether I can do it. I want to race one of my marathons, not just run it as a training run. I don't even want to sign up for a gd 5k because I have no idea what kind of pace I can sustain. I am constantly preaching the necessity of rest and recovery. Meanwhile, my job is to learn to run on tired legs... labeling me a hypocrite. This also makes for less than ideal feeling runs, no matter how slow the pace... which also can be a mood killer when compared to the paces I used to train at (the same paces that led me to injury.... I try to remember that too). This type of training has no doubt, been an incredible mental challenge for me. No one knows that (well I suppose now they do :). I'm not after a BQ this year, but find myself beginning to fight the familiar feeling of anxiety. This time it is over distance, rather than pace. I pray that I can keep it in check for the duration of training and through the race.
Now the good news.... I know that these feelings are a normal part of training for a distance race. The excitement wears thin as exhaustion and anxiety creep in. The weeks and weeks of being slave to a training schedule get old, no matter how excited we are to begin. The stars in our eyes envisioning what we can do become quite faded and we find ourselves questioning why in the hell we ever thought this was a good idea. Family members get restless and feel neglected and we are in turn a bit resentful since we are actually doing all the running. What is wrong with them? It's not like they are getting up before Jesus and logging a ridiculous amount of miles, then going to TRX and then, for the love, going to work! What's their problem? They should be proud. Instead they are as pissy and grouchy as we are. It's all normal. And for someone experiencing it for the first time, it's scary because you don't know how it will play out. Well I will tell you how it plays out. Race day comes and you run as you were trained to do. You finish your race and you are beyond happy (at least I think that is how it's supposed to go... still hoping!). Your family and friends shower you with congratulations. You are amazed at what you've just done... even if it isn't the outcome you had hoped for. The days pass and there is this warm glow and you begin to think that training wasn't so bad after all. Then you get a little restless without a goal. And you sign up for another race.
And the cycle continues.
Knowing all this keeps me in check when I'm feeling as I do now. I will be fine. And "my" runners will be too!
In addition to my love of running, I also love to write. It provides an awesome outlet for anger and sadness, but also is a great place to display great joy and happiness. But what do you do when your thoughts and feelings are somewhere in the middle? How do you blog about a present mundane state of mind? Training continues, and like many I know preparing for fall marathons, I am running low on motivation and pep. I see it in some of the runners I am coaching.... these high mileage weeks before the taper are taking their toll physically and emotionally. Some of them are first timers and I have said "stay strong... the end is near and crossing the finish line will make all the challenges worth it...." Taking my own advice has proven a bit harder than I expected. I began training at the same time and have a month longer to go. Suddenly the drive to run 50 miles is slowly dwindling. Because I'm tired. I want to stay in bed longer on the weekends and drink coffee. I want to go out on Saturday night and not worry about getting up the next morning at the ass-crack of dawn to run. I wonder if some of my runners (I'm calling them "my runners" because I have controlled their running schedules for 15 weeks... they really aren't "mine", I know) realize that their coach is right there with them. I debated on whether or not to blog this. After all, what happens when the motivator loses motivation? When people say "How do you stay so positive and motivated about running?", I want to look them in the eye and say "Honestly, right now, I am not!" No one is doing what I'm doing or even can understand the why I'm doing it. I get a lot of "Oh you are running 50 miles? Hmmm...sounds a little stupid if you ask me." I have no one to commiserate with about my insecurities over whether I can do it. I want to race one of my marathons, not just run it as a training run. I don't even want to sign up for a gd 5k because I have no idea what kind of pace I can sustain. I am constantly preaching the necessity of rest and recovery. Meanwhile, my job is to learn to run on tired legs... labeling me a hypocrite. This also makes for less than ideal feeling runs, no matter how slow the pace... which also can be a mood killer when compared to the paces I used to train at (the same paces that led me to injury.... I try to remember that too). This type of training has no doubt, been an incredible mental challenge for me. No one knows that (well I suppose now they do :). I'm not after a BQ this year, but find myself beginning to fight the familiar feeling of anxiety. This time it is over distance, rather than pace. I pray that I can keep it in check for the duration of training and through the race.
Now the good news.... I know that these feelings are a normal part of training for a distance race. The excitement wears thin as exhaustion and anxiety creep in. The weeks and weeks of being slave to a training schedule get old, no matter how excited we are to begin. The stars in our eyes envisioning what we can do become quite faded and we find ourselves questioning why in the hell we ever thought this was a good idea. Family members get restless and feel neglected and we are in turn a bit resentful since we are actually doing all the running. What is wrong with them? It's not like they are getting up before Jesus and logging a ridiculous amount of miles, then going to TRX and then, for the love, going to work! What's their problem? They should be proud. Instead they are as pissy and grouchy as we are. It's all normal. And for someone experiencing it for the first time, it's scary because you don't know how it will play out. Well I will tell you how it plays out. Race day comes and you run as you were trained to do. You finish your race and you are beyond happy (at least I think that is how it's supposed to go... still hoping!). Your family and friends shower you with congratulations. You are amazed at what you've just done... even if it isn't the outcome you had hoped for. The days pass and there is this warm glow and you begin to think that training wasn't so bad after all. Then you get a little restless without a goal. And you sign up for another race.
And the cycle continues.
Knowing all this keeps me in check when I'm feeling as I do now. I will be fine. And "my" runners will be too!
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
In my defense...
After my post yesterday, I received an e-mail from John saying "Well you could have called me. Hopefully I could have given you some encouragement." To that I say "YEAH RIGHT!" John texted me at midnight saying he was so worried about me. Although very sweet, he was so not the person to call. Had I called John on the verge of tears in the deep, dark forest in the middle of the night, the following would have happened... he would have called Maria ASAP to have race volunteers and cops come find and rescue me. There would have been helicopters hovering up above with huge spotlights looking for his wife. He would have jumped in the car and started driving to Cleveland. John was NOT the person to call. Sarah, on the other hand, would have said..."You can do this. You gotta keep him going. You are fine." And I would have realized that yes, I was indeed fine. Sarah jumped in at the end of my last two marathons. She did not let me stop and made me pick up the pace at times I thought I could not. She'd seen me at my very worst, but somehow knew I had more to give. Because of her, I got two sub 4 hour marathons. So as much as I love and appreciate the guy I married, he wasn't the one to call then.
I also talked to Maggie last night who said something about writing what I was thinking. She wasn't criticizing me, just kind of surprised I guess. I think my thoughts as an unprepared, inexperienced pacer were normal. I did no research and did not know why I was doing 27 of the 30 miles on trail. Turns out, this was a 75% TRAIL ultra marathon. That would have been handy for me to have researched that. The other point is that I can assure you, Jack NEVER knew I felt this way and nor would I ever have complained in front of him. For the amount of suffering I was dealing with, his was 10 times worse. Can't imagine all that pain AND constant nausea. At least I could keep food (and plenty of it I might add) down. Much of my mental state was the result of extreme exhaustion. We had gotten up at 3:30 on Saturday morning and by 24 hrs into it, I was not coping. Jack was. That was irritating me also :)
I now know what to expect as a pacer. I remember reading something about pacers being suckers in Chris McDougall's book, Born to Run. So I looked it up last night and found the passage:
"pacing is so grueling and thankless, usually only family fools and damn good friends let themselves get talked into it. The job means shivering in the middle of the nowhere for hours until your runner shows up, then setting off at sunset for an all-night run through wind-whistling mountains. You'll get blood on your shins, vomit on your shoes, and not even a t-shirt for completing two marathons in a single night. Other job requirements can include staying awake while your runner catches a nap in the mud, popping a blood blister between her butt cheeks with your fingernails (for the record, Jack.... you would have had to deal with that blood blister), and surrendering your jacket, even though your teeth are chattering, because her lips have gone blue."
I am thankful for not getting bled on, puked on and for not needing to give Jack my jacket, since I was cold. I am also thankful that he did not take a nap since we were indeed, in mud much of the time. So I guess as pacers go, I had it easy. And just like people who drag themselves miserably across the finish line at the end of a marathon, I'm thinking I can't wait to do it again!
I also talked to Maggie last night who said something about writing what I was thinking. She wasn't criticizing me, just kind of surprised I guess. I think my thoughts as an unprepared, inexperienced pacer were normal. I did no research and did not know why I was doing 27 of the 30 miles on trail. Turns out, this was a 75% TRAIL ultra marathon. That would have been handy for me to have researched that. The other point is that I can assure you, Jack NEVER knew I felt this way and nor would I ever have complained in front of him. For the amount of suffering I was dealing with, his was 10 times worse. Can't imagine all that pain AND constant nausea. At least I could keep food (and plenty of it I might add) down. Much of my mental state was the result of extreme exhaustion. We had gotten up at 3:30 on Saturday morning and by 24 hrs into it, I was not coping. Jack was. That was irritating me also :)
I now know what to expect as a pacer. I remember reading something about pacers being suckers in Chris McDougall's book, Born to Run. So I looked it up last night and found the passage:
"pacing is so grueling and thankless, usually only family fools and damn good friends let themselves get talked into it. The job means shivering in the middle of the nowhere for hours until your runner shows up, then setting off at sunset for an all-night run through wind-whistling mountains. You'll get blood on your shins, vomit on your shoes, and not even a t-shirt for completing two marathons in a single night. Other job requirements can include staying awake while your runner catches a nap in the mud, popping a blood blister between her butt cheeks with your fingernails (for the record, Jack.... you would have had to deal with that blood blister), and surrendering your jacket, even though your teeth are chattering, because her lips have gone blue."
I am thankful for not getting bled on, puked on and for not needing to give Jack my jacket, since I was cold. I am also thankful that he did not take a nap since we were indeed, in mud much of the time. So I guess as pacers go, I had it easy. And just like people who drag themselves miserably across the finish line at the end of a marathon, I'm thinking I can't wait to do it again!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Burning River 100- A Pacer's Perspective
I am saying this right now. Mark my words, highlight them and shove them in my face if I ever begin to think any different. I WILL NEVER DO A 100 MILE ULTRA MARATHON. Never. This is not because I don't admire those who do. Nor that I don't think it's a very cool thing to attempt, whether completed or not. Wouldn't we all love to be able to say we ran 100 miles in one race? I am just not "that person" and I am soooo ok with that.
For starters, lets just clarify, I did not RUN 30 miles. Unless your average run pace is anywhere from 17-22 min/miles, you can't really consider what I did as running. Sometimes we walked and other times we shuffled or very slowly jogged. But my Garmin splits show my pace range anywhere from 18-22 min/miles. We covered miles 63-93 in roughly 10 hours. And for much of that time I was scared that I was going to witness Jack going into cardiac arrest in the middle of the pitch, black forest with no aid station in sight for miles. Thank God I had my phone and Facebook. I honestly felt like I had company that could help if something went catastrophically wrong. Silly, I know. Sometimes I was pissed that he was choosing to go on because he was not only putting himself at an unnecessary risk, but also putting his crew and pacers in a really bad position. I was pissed at times because I was exhausted, but felt I had no right to complain because after all, wasn't he going 100 miles? I was pissed when Maria and Marybeth gave me shit for wanting to take a break at mile 85 saying "he's doing 100, you are ONLY doing 30." I was pissed when I knew my hips and calves had enough and I was afraid that I'd set my own training back for the JFK 50 and Jack looks up and says "training for what?" OMG... "F*%K YOU, Jack!" This was unfair. I did not sign up for this 100 mile bullshit, YOU DID. Why should I compromise all I'd been building and preparing for because of this? Besides, this wasn't the "training run" I was expecting. This was hell. Did I mention that I don't deal well with exhaustion? I get really negative and mean. 100 mile runners do not. Which brings me to the part I love and admire about these people.
Maria crewed Jack last year. I cannot imagine how she did that on her own. We could have used a couple of more people (especially pacers to share the wealth of miles). She kept talking about the people she met at the expo and how awesome they were and what a different atmosphere it was from marathoning. Well I've met some pretty great people during marathons so I just figured that was Maria's limited exposure to marathoning that made her feel that way. But she was right. I think this is because the expo was so small and the pasta dinner was part of the expo. We sat down with some guys from Michigan. This was not the first 100 mile race for any of them and some of them, Jack had met at other races before. I began to realize that because ultra running is a smaller community of people than marathoning, you do see the same crazy ass people over and over again and get to know them. The atmosphere was relaxed and fun. I looked around at these guys thinking "how can they be soooo cool and relaxed when they are about to run that far tomorrow?" I would be freaking out. I soon figured out why after crewing and pacing the event.
During the Burning River 100, there were aid stations that ranged from 3.3 - 7 miles along the whole course. The participants were required to check in at every station. They had "drop boxes" which they brought to the expo and turned in to the race volunteers, who distributed them to the aid stations. For example, when Jack got to mile 33, a race volunteer would greet him and yell out "number 70". Another volunteer would go find his self made box full of the things he figured he'd need around that mile and bring it to him or his crew (us). These included shoes or socks (say you were switching from road to trail or vice versa), any food you may want (they had food at every station but sometimes runners have their own things they know work), any first aid stuff you may want, ect. It could be anything in that box. He also had a box labeled "Bring to every station", which Marybeth took with her to all the stations we were allowed to be at (some were deemed a "no crew" stop so we only hit the ones we were allowed at). I really enjoyed going from station to station and setting up camp for a few hours. The fun part was you were with the same people, also crewing and pacing runners. We met some great people and had a lot of fun. At one stop, the race volunteers had made a fire pit and we all put our chairs around it. It was like a non-stop, 24 hour party. You got to learn about the runners and their families and then began to get excited when the runner came it. Some of them looked so great.... like they were just out for a short run. Others did not fair so well. In the beginning, Jack looked awesome and strong. Even still at mile 54, he was seemingly unaffected by the distance. That changed by the time he reached the mile 63 aid station. Between 54 and 63 there was one aid station which was a "no crew" stop. So we set up at mile 63 and waited. After a while, one of the girls we met, Kristin, was camped out with us. Kristin's husband, Kevin, had been running with Jack. Kevin came in, Jack did not. As the sun started to set, I got nervous because I knew they were on trail and we had Jack's headlamp. Plus, last year he had reached this aid station in the daylight. I left Maria and Marybeth and headed along the trail in the woods to find him. About 1/2 mile in, I saw him coming. This was my first video posting. Apparently he had been dealing with vomiting for a few miles. Last year his first episode was at mile 93. He was still pretty upbeat, but was feeling a bit weak. I asked him if he wanted me to jump in then and he said "Yes". I was going to wait until mile 70, but he needed someone with him.
Between miles 80-85 were the roughest for me. I pretended I was fine, but I was so not fine. There is no one to tell you that you can do it. But you are constantly telling the runner he can do it. I was trying to make sure Jack was drinking and eating, running with him when he was able. It was the middle of the night and I wanted to text Sarah to call me. I knew if she did, I'd be fine. She'd say "keep him going, chica..." and that's all I'd need. I was on the verge of tears. This was right about when we met Gil, who needed some company and a little encouragement. I listened to Jack and Gil talk and talk and was amazed at how casual and jovial they both sounded. Gil ran when we did and walked when we did. I also learned he is doing the JFK 50 and can't wait to see him again. He says we kept him going, but really, he kept us going.
The miles from 85-93 were physically the worst. By mile 90, I was cramping up more than Jack. He seemed to remain steady from this point on. I texted Sarah at a time when I knew she was out on her long run and told her to call me when she was done. What a relief to hear her voice.... it helped me through to 93. This is when I decided that Maria could jump in and do this walk/run for the remainder. I had given my 10 hour 30 miles and just wasn't going to be able to provide much support from that point on. Thankfully, Maria jumped in and got him to the finish!
What is so different about marathoning vs. ultra marathoning? Well, at the end of a marathon, you are so beat up and in quite a bit of pain. You have pushed yourself beyond a reasonable physical limit and your body is angry. Marathons drain me physically and mentally like nothing else, or at least the past two have. Ultra marathons do the same thing. But for many more marathoners than ultra marathoners, the time factor is front and center. In an ultra, the distance is so daunting that unless you are one of the elites, it's you against you and the finish is the dangling carrot. I don't think I have it in me to run another marathon like the past two. I will more easily finish a 50 mile ultra than race the clock for that amount of time it takes to run a marathon. I think I'll get to Boston because I'll be that much more comfortable running that pace, but I don't ever want to "race" a marathon again. I don't think I have it in me. So I suppose in essence, ultra-running may be the easy way out for me.
In hindsight, I think Jack knew he was ok, even though his crew wasn't sure. He was never delirious or acting strange. He was always coherent. 2 of the guys we met the night before dropped early. Mark was vomiting severely at mile 50 and after nearly 2 hours at the aid station unable to keep anything down, he turned in his number. Matt's knees were shot after going out at an 8 minute pace and at mile 54 knew he couldn't run again. He laughed and joked and said if anyone wanted to walk the next 50 with him, he was in. But otherwise he could not go on. Neither of these two guys were upset, nor did they feel like failures. Mark came to the finish line Sunday morning to see Jack finish. He was beaming as he talked about ordering enough McDonalds to feed a family of six once he could eat again. He wasn't bitter that Jack was finishing and he didn't. He knew his issue was beyond control and was at peace with that. How do you get pissed at yourself for not being able to keep anything down? I guess he's done so many ultras that he's reached that level of maturity it takes to know when to push through and when to throw in the towel. Kai, who was another guy at that table, wanted a sub 24 hour finish and made it! At one point, the blisters on the top of his feet became so big and painful, he actually cut a slit across the top of his shoe to relieve the pressure and just put a little duct tape over it to avoid rocks and pebbles from getting in on the trails. Kai is a STUD! He was also waiting to greet Jack at the finish.
So the question is, would I crew/pace again? Oh hell yes I would. What a crazy, different and insane adventure that was. To see people in the woods laying down at mile 80 and you ask them if they are ok and they say "never better!" and mean it... that's crazy. Keeping my fingers crossed that Jack gets into Western States next year.
Congratulations on a FABULOUS 100 miles, Jack!
For starters, lets just clarify, I did not RUN 30 miles. Unless your average run pace is anywhere from 17-22 min/miles, you can't really consider what I did as running. Sometimes we walked and other times we shuffled or very slowly jogged. But my Garmin splits show my pace range anywhere from 18-22 min/miles. We covered miles 63-93 in roughly 10 hours. And for much of that time I was scared that I was going to witness Jack going into cardiac arrest in the middle of the pitch, black forest with no aid station in sight for miles. Thank God I had my phone and Facebook. I honestly felt like I had company that could help if something went catastrophically wrong. Silly, I know. Sometimes I was pissed that he was choosing to go on because he was not only putting himself at an unnecessary risk, but also putting his crew and pacers in a really bad position. I was pissed at times because I was exhausted, but felt I had no right to complain because after all, wasn't he going 100 miles? I was pissed when Maria and Marybeth gave me shit for wanting to take a break at mile 85 saying "he's doing 100, you are ONLY doing 30." I was pissed when I knew my hips and calves had enough and I was afraid that I'd set my own training back for the JFK 50 and Jack looks up and says "training for what?" OMG... "F*%K YOU, Jack!" This was unfair. I did not sign up for this 100 mile bullshit, YOU DID. Why should I compromise all I'd been building and preparing for because of this? Besides, this wasn't the "training run" I was expecting. This was hell. Did I mention that I don't deal well with exhaustion? I get really negative and mean. 100 mile runners do not. Which brings me to the part I love and admire about these people.
Maria crewed Jack last year. I cannot imagine how she did that on her own. We could have used a couple of more people (especially pacers to share the wealth of miles). She kept talking about the people she met at the expo and how awesome they were and what a different atmosphere it was from marathoning. Well I've met some pretty great people during marathons so I just figured that was Maria's limited exposure to marathoning that made her feel that way. But she was right. I think this is because the expo was so small and the pasta dinner was part of the expo. We sat down with some guys from Michigan. This was not the first 100 mile race for any of them and some of them, Jack had met at other races before. I began to realize that because ultra running is a smaller community of people than marathoning, you do see the same crazy ass people over and over again and get to know them. The atmosphere was relaxed and fun. I looked around at these guys thinking "how can they be soooo cool and relaxed when they are about to run that far tomorrow?" I would be freaking out. I soon figured out why after crewing and pacing the event.
During the Burning River 100, there were aid stations that ranged from 3.3 - 7 miles along the whole course. The participants were required to check in at every station. They had "drop boxes" which they brought to the expo and turned in to the race volunteers, who distributed them to the aid stations. For example, when Jack got to mile 33, a race volunteer would greet him and yell out "number 70". Another volunteer would go find his self made box full of the things he figured he'd need around that mile and bring it to him or his crew (us). These included shoes or socks (say you were switching from road to trail or vice versa), any food you may want (they had food at every station but sometimes runners have their own things they know work), any first aid stuff you may want, ect. It could be anything in that box. He also had a box labeled "Bring to every station", which Marybeth took with her to all the stations we were allowed to be at (some were deemed a "no crew" stop so we only hit the ones we were allowed at). I really enjoyed going from station to station and setting up camp for a few hours. The fun part was you were with the same people, also crewing and pacing runners. We met some great people and had a lot of fun. At one stop, the race volunteers had made a fire pit and we all put our chairs around it. It was like a non-stop, 24 hour party. You got to learn about the runners and their families and then began to get excited when the runner came it. Some of them looked so great.... like they were just out for a short run. Others did not fair so well. In the beginning, Jack looked awesome and strong. Even still at mile 54, he was seemingly unaffected by the distance. That changed by the time he reached the mile 63 aid station. Between 54 and 63 there was one aid station which was a "no crew" stop. So we set up at mile 63 and waited. After a while, one of the girls we met, Kristin, was camped out with us. Kristin's husband, Kevin, had been running with Jack. Kevin came in, Jack did not. As the sun started to set, I got nervous because I knew they were on trail and we had Jack's headlamp. Plus, last year he had reached this aid station in the daylight. I left Maria and Marybeth and headed along the trail in the woods to find him. About 1/2 mile in, I saw him coming. This was my first video posting. Apparently he had been dealing with vomiting for a few miles. Last year his first episode was at mile 93. He was still pretty upbeat, but was feeling a bit weak. I asked him if he wanted me to jump in then and he said "Yes". I was going to wait until mile 70, but he needed someone with him.
Mile 70
From mile 63-70, he was pretty sick. He was very quiet and becoming progressively weaker. He said "if I don't get something to stay down, there is no way I can finish this." He never complained or said "this sucks" or "I hurt". At the aid station, he asked for a blanket and to lay down. He took small bites of salted bagel, chicken soup, grilled cheese (all provided by the race.... which by the way they have awesome food at these things!). He sipped Gatorade and water, but not much. He then laid there for about 30 minutes. We then took off.
Mile 73
Mile 80
We only had to go 3.3 miles to the next checkpoint. For about 2 of those miles he actually did quite well. By the time we got to aid station, he felt really bad again. He was freezing and asked to take a nap in the van. With a blanket around him and the heater running, I figured this was it. He'd fall asleep and not be able to get back up. Within 2 minutes he popped up and said "let's go". Here is where I began to struggle. Was this even safe anymore? Was I doing the wrong thing by going with what he wanted? He hadn't peed in hours, whereas I was squating in the woods every mile I was so hydrated. Marybeth asked him if he wanted to pull out of the race. He said "No." I was getting really nervous about what was to come, but headed out into the woods once again. We would not see them again until mile 80. This was a long stretch with a very unstable runner. He was so dehydrated. I wasn't quite sure what I would do if he collapsed. When I say it was pitch black out there, I ain't kiddin'. I could not see anything around me but the ground in front from my headlamp. Occasionally we'd run into other runners and chat. I was always relieved with the knowledge that someone, even people as equally weak as Jack, were somewhat around. Not that they could help me if something were to happen. I mean, heck, they were in the same shape he was so it isn't like they could run really fast for help if we needed it. By the time we reached mile 80, I was aching quite a bit. The hills were steep and we were going on 5-6 hours of walk/jog/ shuffling. It was the middle of the night and I was so tired. I kept thinking that if the pacer crashes, the runner is HOSED. I knew he felt awful, but I wasn't sure how much more I could take. My calves, lower back and hips were hurting pretty badly. The good thing was that at this race, the pacers are treated like the runners at the aid stations. I was greeted and asked what I wanted and what they could get me. It was great :). Jack seemed to be perking up and made it out of the station more quickly.Between miles 80-85 were the roughest for me. I pretended I was fine, but I was so not fine. There is no one to tell you that you can do it. But you are constantly telling the runner he can do it. I was trying to make sure Jack was drinking and eating, running with him when he was able. It was the middle of the night and I wanted to text Sarah to call me. I knew if she did, I'd be fine. She'd say "keep him going, chica..." and that's all I'd need. I was on the verge of tears. This was right about when we met Gil, who needed some company and a little encouragement. I listened to Jack and Gil talk and talk and was amazed at how casual and jovial they both sounded. Gil ran when we did and walked when we did. I also learned he is doing the JFK 50 and can't wait to see him again. He says we kept him going, but really, he kept us going.
Mile 93... YIPPEE for me, not so much for Jack
What is so different about marathoning vs. ultra marathoning? Well, at the end of a marathon, you are so beat up and in quite a bit of pain. You have pushed yourself beyond a reasonable physical limit and your body is angry. Marathons drain me physically and mentally like nothing else, or at least the past two have. Ultra marathons do the same thing. But for many more marathoners than ultra marathoners, the time factor is front and center. In an ultra, the distance is so daunting that unless you are one of the elites, it's you against you and the finish is the dangling carrot. I don't think I have it in me to run another marathon like the past two. I will more easily finish a 50 mile ultra than race the clock for that amount of time it takes to run a marathon. I think I'll get to Boston because I'll be that much more comfortable running that pace, but I don't ever want to "race" a marathon again. I don't think I have it in me. So I suppose in essence, ultra-running may be the easy way out for me.
In hindsight, I think Jack knew he was ok, even though his crew wasn't sure. He was never delirious or acting strange. He was always coherent. 2 of the guys we met the night before dropped early. Mark was vomiting severely at mile 50 and after nearly 2 hours at the aid station unable to keep anything down, he turned in his number. Matt's knees were shot after going out at an 8 minute pace and at mile 54 knew he couldn't run again. He laughed and joked and said if anyone wanted to walk the next 50 with him, he was in. But otherwise he could not go on. Neither of these two guys were upset, nor did they feel like failures. Mark came to the finish line Sunday morning to see Jack finish. He was beaming as he talked about ordering enough McDonalds to feed a family of six once he could eat again. He wasn't bitter that Jack was finishing and he didn't. He knew his issue was beyond control and was at peace with that. How do you get pissed at yourself for not being able to keep anything down? I guess he's done so many ultras that he's reached that level of maturity it takes to know when to push through and when to throw in the towel. Kai, who was another guy at that table, wanted a sub 24 hour finish and made it! At one point, the blisters on the top of his feet became so big and painful, he actually cut a slit across the top of his shoe to relieve the pressure and just put a little duct tape over it to avoid rocks and pebbles from getting in on the trails. Kai is a STUD! He was also waiting to greet Jack at the finish.
So the question is, would I crew/pace again? Oh hell yes I would. What a crazy, different and insane adventure that was. To see people in the woods laying down at mile 80 and you ask them if they are ok and they say "never better!" and mean it... that's crazy. Keeping my fingers crossed that Jack gets into Western States next year.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Run or...
I've officially begun ULTRA TRAINING! I received my acceptance letter (in the self-addressed stamped envelope I'd forgotten the first time) last week. Hmmm, how do I describe what it felt like to know I was now committed to this? Well, I was ecstatic! At first. Then I was a bit unsure about my ability to pull this off. Then I was ecstatic again. Then unsure. Then ecstatic. You get the point. I could compare the roller coaster of emotions to what some women experience with the news of a pregnancy. But overall, I am headed into this excited and confident. I often think about sitting down on December 31st and blogging about my year in review. What will I say? Will I reflect on running 2 successful marathons, my first ultra marathon experience and a year of perfect running with no injury? Will I include that I coached 3 runners to run their first marathons and 2 to hit amazing PRs? That is my goal and my wish. So from here on out, I will live the rest of 2011 with the goal of blogging about exactly that! Hopefully this will prompt some to think about how they will look back at this year and decide what they would like their reflections to include. There is still lot of this year left!
Yesterday my friend Molly sent me an e-mail asking me to fill in the blank. The sentence was "Run or...". I was simply to fill in the "or" part and send it back to her. Again, this is timely because this was something I was already thinking about yesterday. At a birthday party for my friend Kim's daughter (you know, Kim is the one who runs "to burn calories"), Kim and I were discussing running (I know, shocker). I was telling her that I still thought she had it in her to do another marathon. Kim has done one full marathon and a handful of halves. She says she has absolutely no desire to do another full marathon. That essentially, she crossed it off her bucket list and she is satisfied with that. You know, this is hard for me to process. How can anyone do one and not want to do another and another and another? Kim said that although she enjoys running and especially running with our group, she is more so enjoying a summer of sleeping in on days off, camping with her family and sitting around with friends at night not freaking out about needing to be in bed by a certain time because she "has to" get up and run. That she can finish a bottle of wine if she wants. That she can have 2 or 3 beers if she chooses (I see a different problem here, Kim). The point is, Kim does not enjoy being a slave to running. She enjoys running, but wants to do it on her terms, not the terms of a training schedule. I get what she is saying. So I had to think about myself in regard to this. I began to wonder if this is how people look at me. A couple of weeks ago, someone told me that they were having a conversation with someone who said "Have you ever tried to have a conversation with Kate Rewwer at 10:00 at night? She can barely keep her eyes open!" To which my immediate response was "Well by 8:00 in the morning, I have logged some miles, emptied the dishwasher, completed 2 loads of laundry, watered the flowers and showered (well, sometimes not showered yet) and you are still sleeping. So the same would hold true if I showed up at your door at 8:00 am." My point being, we are all so different! But the question remains... Am I a slave to running and training? Do I short change my family, friends and myself by the need to get up every day and run? Do I sacrifice spending time outside in the dark sitting around watching my kids catch lightening bugs, enjoying a glass of wine, talking to neighbors by the fire pit because I just need to go to bed so that I can run? I really had to think about this because I am positive this is what some people see. They say it without verbalizing it. Yes, this also all ties in to Molly's fill-in-the-blank question.
The answer is no. I am no slave to running. By nature and genetics, I am a very early morning person. In college, I was always the one that was yawning at the bar by 11:00 pm. Yeah, even if it meant we just got there. I'd get home at 2, go to bed and be up by 6 or 7 am. Not because I had to be, but because I couldn't help it. I just woke up. When I graduated from nursing school, I had no choice but to take a night shift position. This was HORRIBLE for me. I'd fall into bed (after wondering how the hell I made it home alive), sleep for a couple of hours and then be awake. I'd be dizzy, nauseous and have a headache. But hard as I tried, dark as I made my room, I could not sleep in the middle of the day. I lived like this for 6 months. I always felt sick and miserable. And I would then go for a run. I didn't enjoy it then. There was no magic in running. I was combatting the night shift pounds that were creeping up and I was "training" for the New York marathon. I was not looking at time or pace, but rather logging miles. I was trying to fall in love with something that others were addicted to and loved and obsessed over. But it wasn't happening. I just wanted to be skinny and run a marathon.
Fast forward 15 years to now. I still can't sleep in the morning. I still need to go to bed early at night. But running isn't the culprit. Again, nature and genetics (have you met Bill Corey, who often would rise at 3 am because he couldn't sleep? Have you tried to have a conversation with him at noon? He can barely keep his eyes open. And he ain't no runner). Running happens to be what fills the time of my early morning wakeful state. And by filling it with running day after day, I've discovered that I run to LIVE, rather than not run and simply exist. Running takes a tremendous amount of discipline. Even if you love it. Sometimes you don't really WANT to put on your shoes and go. But you do and each time you do and you overcome the desire to stay home, a small part of you gets a bit stronger. Do this for YEARS and a BIG part of you gets stronger (and I don't mean physically). You evolve into the person God meant for you to be. Whoever that may be. This is what has happened and continues to happen with me. So no. I'm no slave to running. I've said it before... running is the tool God is using to make me into the person I was meant to be. For others, it may be something else. For me, it's running. To stop doing it would be short changing my family, my friends and myself.
So I wrote back to Molly with my fill in. Run or simply exist. Because without it, that's exactly what I'd be doing right now.
Yesterday my friend Molly sent me an e-mail asking me to fill in the blank. The sentence was "Run or...". I was simply to fill in the "or" part and send it back to her. Again, this is timely because this was something I was already thinking about yesterday. At a birthday party for my friend Kim's daughter (you know, Kim is the one who runs "to burn calories"), Kim and I were discussing running (I know, shocker). I was telling her that I still thought she had it in her to do another marathon. Kim has done one full marathon and a handful of halves. She says she has absolutely no desire to do another full marathon. That essentially, she crossed it off her bucket list and she is satisfied with that. You know, this is hard for me to process. How can anyone do one and not want to do another and another and another? Kim said that although she enjoys running and especially running with our group, she is more so enjoying a summer of sleeping in on days off, camping with her family and sitting around with friends at night not freaking out about needing to be in bed by a certain time because she "has to" get up and run. That she can finish a bottle of wine if she wants. That she can have 2 or 3 beers if she chooses (I see a different problem here, Kim). The point is, Kim does not enjoy being a slave to running. She enjoys running, but wants to do it on her terms, not the terms of a training schedule. I get what she is saying. So I had to think about myself in regard to this. I began to wonder if this is how people look at me. A couple of weeks ago, someone told me that they were having a conversation with someone who said "Have you ever tried to have a conversation with Kate Rewwer at 10:00 at night? She can barely keep her eyes open!" To which my immediate response was "Well by 8:00 in the morning, I have logged some miles, emptied the dishwasher, completed 2 loads of laundry, watered the flowers and showered (well, sometimes not showered yet) and you are still sleeping. So the same would hold true if I showed up at your door at 8:00 am." My point being, we are all so different! But the question remains... Am I a slave to running and training? Do I short change my family, friends and myself by the need to get up every day and run? Do I sacrifice spending time outside in the dark sitting around watching my kids catch lightening bugs, enjoying a glass of wine, talking to neighbors by the fire pit because I just need to go to bed so that I can run? I really had to think about this because I am positive this is what some people see. They say it without verbalizing it. Yes, this also all ties in to Molly's fill-in-the-blank question.
The answer is no. I am no slave to running. By nature and genetics, I am a very early morning person. In college, I was always the one that was yawning at the bar by 11:00 pm. Yeah, even if it meant we just got there. I'd get home at 2, go to bed and be up by 6 or 7 am. Not because I had to be, but because I couldn't help it. I just woke up. When I graduated from nursing school, I had no choice but to take a night shift position. This was HORRIBLE for me. I'd fall into bed (after wondering how the hell I made it home alive), sleep for a couple of hours and then be awake. I'd be dizzy, nauseous and have a headache. But hard as I tried, dark as I made my room, I could not sleep in the middle of the day. I lived like this for 6 months. I always felt sick and miserable. And I would then go for a run. I didn't enjoy it then. There was no magic in running. I was combatting the night shift pounds that were creeping up and I was "training" for the New York marathon. I was not looking at time or pace, but rather logging miles. I was trying to fall in love with something that others were addicted to and loved and obsessed over. But it wasn't happening. I just wanted to be skinny and run a marathon.
Fast forward 15 years to now. I still can't sleep in the morning. I still need to go to bed early at night. But running isn't the culprit. Again, nature and genetics (have you met Bill Corey, who often would rise at 3 am because he couldn't sleep? Have you tried to have a conversation with him at noon? He can barely keep his eyes open. And he ain't no runner). Running happens to be what fills the time of my early morning wakeful state. And by filling it with running day after day, I've discovered that I run to LIVE, rather than not run and simply exist. Running takes a tremendous amount of discipline. Even if you love it. Sometimes you don't really WANT to put on your shoes and go. But you do and each time you do and you overcome the desire to stay home, a small part of you gets a bit stronger. Do this for YEARS and a BIG part of you gets stronger (and I don't mean physically). You evolve into the person God meant for you to be. Whoever that may be. This is what has happened and continues to happen with me. So no. I'm no slave to running. I've said it before... running is the tool God is using to make me into the person I was meant to be. For others, it may be something else. For me, it's running. To stop doing it would be short changing my family, my friends and myself.
So I wrote back to Molly with my fill in. Run or simply exist. Because without it, that's exactly what I'd be doing right now.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Hitting the Trails
"Hey princess, guess what? Your shoes are GOING to be muddy if you run trails." Jack laughed as I tried hard to remove the newly caked mud on my new trail running shoes. This was following a period of over a year that I had actually done any technical trail running (Miami Whitewater is a nice trail.. but definitely not technical!). I decided that the time had come to get serious about learning how to navigate and pace myself on trails. If I am to run a 50 mile race in which 13 of the first 15 miles are on trail, it "may" be wise to get myself used to it. That was nearly one week ago. I also went out this past Thursday and met up with some trail runners from the Greater Cincinnati Trail Runners group. A group Jack directed me to that has a website as well as a Facebook page listing the meeting times for their runs.
I'll admit it. Much as I really enjoy meeting new people, my stomach was in knots as I pulled into Mt. Airy park to meet this new group of people I didn't know. What if they ran so much faster than me that I got lost in the woods of Mt. Airy? What if they really thought I sucked? These thoughts ran through my head as I pulled up to the oval and parked behind a car with a big 'ol "140.6" sticker slapped on the back window. "Great. I'm dead." That was my first thought as the car ahead of that car also had the same sticker. In case you don't know, that is the distance of an Ironman triathlon. And in case you don't know what an Ironman is, well, you don't get out much!
I walked up to the girl in the car ahead and was greeted with a warm smile and an extended hand, which immediately put me at ease. Out hopped her dog, who apparently accompanies her on most of her runs. We introduced ourselves, me making it very clear that I was new to trail running, and walked up to the group of 6 waiting up ahead. After some brief introductions (and me realizing there was one other new person in the group), I looked around at all their shoes. Their MUDDY shoes. I suddenly wanted to put some mud back on mine as I remembered how hard I'd worked to get it off last week. My shoes screamed rookie! But at least I had trail running shoes. The other new girl had on regular running shoes. She was even more of a rookie than me. Or so I thought. Until I positioned myself in the running line-up behind her only to find myself in a completely anaerobic state for the entire run. DAMN! This girl was really good on the trails! Turned out, she just moved to Montgomery from Maryland. She mostly only runs trails (even though she does not own trail running shoes) and found the group on Facebook. I ALMOST wanted to mention that I had already done a TRX class AND a morning run that day and this was my second run for the day. But I realized how that would have sounded. I decided it was best to just say those things to my own running group in an attempt to joke about who was the toughest and best conditioned or as an excuse for why I was lagging behind. Definitely NOT the thing to say to this group my first time out. So I just ran. And breathed really heavy. And got my ass kicked on the hills. But am happy to say I held my own. By the sheer pride, I hung in behind Mary (other new girl) and refused to fall back. I realized how much of an art there is to this type of running. How much focus and concentration it requires as you constantly run the risk of twisting an ankle or falling. You are so mentally zoned in on the moment for the whole run. I imagine it is quite hard to get lost in your thoughts when you run technical trails. The good news is that sometimes, for brief moments, this allows you to forget how heavy you are breathing and how bad you feel. You are just trying to stay upright! I realized how you can have much slower mile splits, but work so much harder on your run when on a trail. It is an extremely athletic type of running. Especially if you are racing. I can see how people either really like it or really don't. And thankfully, I LOVE it! I love being in the woods, I love the focus it requires and I love the challenge. And I equally love running on the road for the opposite reason. I love being able to thoughtlessly put one foot in front of the other and either get lost in prayer, music or daydreams or have a conversation with someone about anything that comes up. They are both good and cleansing types of running to me.
I will hopefully join this new group every Thursday at 6:30 as I prepare for the JFK 50. That is... if my application is accepted. Applications were available on the JFK site on July 1st. Jack told me to make sure I filled it out and overnighted it first thing in the morning on that date. He even told me to make sure it I mailed it from the downtown post office so that it would have the "July 1" post mark. I did that. Or should I say John did. I printed off the application at 4 am on July 1st, filled it out, printed off proof of my Columbus marathon time, placed my check in the envelope and sent it downtown. John sent it overnight. He then came home and said "You did put a self addressed stamped envelope in with your application, didn't you?" "No, I did not. Why?" "Because in bold, underlined lettering it tells you to include that." I immediately felt my heart drop. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the clear sentence. In bold, underlined lettering... "ALL ENTRIES MUST INCLUDE A SELF ADDRESSED STAMPED ENVELOPE." How did I miss that? All I knew is that I had to redo the entire application right then. I quickly re-did the entire thing, included EVERYTHING necessary, wrote another check for the most expensive entry fee I've ever written and sent it to the Harrison post office (thank you again, John!) overnight with a note to disregard the previous application. So now I wait for a couple of weeks on the edge of my seat to see if my name gets listed on their site. Or to see if they decide that there is a certain intelligence level that needs to be met and I simply didn't fit the bill. Anyones guess.
I'll admit it. Much as I really enjoy meeting new people, my stomach was in knots as I pulled into Mt. Airy park to meet this new group of people I didn't know. What if they ran so much faster than me that I got lost in the woods of Mt. Airy? What if they really thought I sucked? These thoughts ran through my head as I pulled up to the oval and parked behind a car with a big 'ol "140.6" sticker slapped on the back window. "Great. I'm dead." That was my first thought as the car ahead of that car also had the same sticker. In case you don't know, that is the distance of an Ironman triathlon. And in case you don't know what an Ironman is, well, you don't get out much!
I walked up to the girl in the car ahead and was greeted with a warm smile and an extended hand, which immediately put me at ease. Out hopped her dog, who apparently accompanies her on most of her runs. We introduced ourselves, me making it very clear that I was new to trail running, and walked up to the group of 6 waiting up ahead. After some brief introductions (and me realizing there was one other new person in the group), I looked around at all their shoes. Their MUDDY shoes. I suddenly wanted to put some mud back on mine as I remembered how hard I'd worked to get it off last week. My shoes screamed rookie! But at least I had trail running shoes. The other new girl had on regular running shoes. She was even more of a rookie than me. Or so I thought. Until I positioned myself in the running line-up behind her only to find myself in a completely anaerobic state for the entire run. DAMN! This girl was really good on the trails! Turned out, she just moved to Montgomery from Maryland. She mostly only runs trails (even though she does not own trail running shoes) and found the group on Facebook. I ALMOST wanted to mention that I had already done a TRX class AND a morning run that day and this was my second run for the day. But I realized how that would have sounded. I decided it was best to just say those things to my own running group in an attempt to joke about who was the toughest and best conditioned or as an excuse for why I was lagging behind. Definitely NOT the thing to say to this group my first time out. So I just ran. And breathed really heavy. And got my ass kicked on the hills. But am happy to say I held my own. By the sheer pride, I hung in behind Mary (other new girl) and refused to fall back. I realized how much of an art there is to this type of running. How much focus and concentration it requires as you constantly run the risk of twisting an ankle or falling. You are so mentally zoned in on the moment for the whole run. I imagine it is quite hard to get lost in your thoughts when you run technical trails. The good news is that sometimes, for brief moments, this allows you to forget how heavy you are breathing and how bad you feel. You are just trying to stay upright! I realized how you can have much slower mile splits, but work so much harder on your run when on a trail. It is an extremely athletic type of running. Especially if you are racing. I can see how people either really like it or really don't. And thankfully, I LOVE it! I love being in the woods, I love the focus it requires and I love the challenge. And I equally love running on the road for the opposite reason. I love being able to thoughtlessly put one foot in front of the other and either get lost in prayer, music or daydreams or have a conversation with someone about anything that comes up. They are both good and cleansing types of running to me.
I will hopefully join this new group every Thursday at 6:30 as I prepare for the JFK 50. That is... if my application is accepted. Applications were available on the JFK site on July 1st. Jack told me to make sure I filled it out and overnighted it first thing in the morning on that date. He even told me to make sure it I mailed it from the downtown post office so that it would have the "July 1" post mark. I did that. Or should I say John did. I printed off the application at 4 am on July 1st, filled it out, printed off proof of my Columbus marathon time, placed my check in the envelope and sent it downtown. John sent it overnight. He then came home and said "You did put a self addressed stamped envelope in with your application, didn't you?" "No, I did not. Why?" "Because in bold, underlined lettering it tells you to include that." I immediately felt my heart drop. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the clear sentence. In bold, underlined lettering... "ALL ENTRIES MUST INCLUDE A SELF ADDRESSED STAMPED ENVELOPE." How did I miss that? All I knew is that I had to redo the entire application right then. I quickly re-did the entire thing, included EVERYTHING necessary, wrote another check for the most expensive entry fee I've ever written and sent it to the Harrison post office (thank you again, John!) overnight with a note to disregard the previous application. So now I wait for a couple of weeks on the edge of my seat to see if my name gets listed on their site. Or to see if they decide that there is a certain intelligence level that needs to be met and I simply didn't fit the bill. Anyones guess.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Riding the Wave
"My own talents and reserves often feel like a drought, insufficient for the harvest. And yet somehow God carries me beyond my expected yield." -Kristin Armstrong
This is a comforting quote today. Probably one that I will refer to a zillion times this summer as I ramp up mileage never before achieved in any training I've done. The goal: 75-80 miles a week. Let's make that 75-80 miles a week of pain free, injury free miles! All done in preparation for what I hope to be my first ultramarathon, the JFK 50. Funny how many blogs ago, I was convinced that perhaps I could do just fine running a minimum of 30 miles a week. Running long primarily on weekends, throwing some shorter runs in during the week and using cycling as a substitute for any days I don't run. I don't think that way anymore. My goal for this ultra is yes, a finish. But I'd like to finish optimally conditioned and in a respectable amount of time. I won't put a definitive time goal on the race (hence I hate to call it a race), but I know I want to finish in what is considered a decent amount of time. I want to recover quickly, evaluate my like or dislike of ultra running and then decide what I'd like to attempt next.
Today was rough. I ran 11 miles with John (YES.. .I SAID JOHN!). For the first few miles, I ran annoyed. I have started training with a heart rate monitor, but old habits die hard and I couldn't help but sneak back and look at my pace. What a mood killer. First I was annoyed because he wasn't ready at 7 am like he said he would be. I am not a fan of running in the heat and it was getting hot. Then I was annoyed because my heart rate was lingering in the low 150's at a 9:4something pace. I was tired from an early morning spinning class and he seemed eager to go a little faster. I snapped at him to slow down so I could get my rate under control and became further in a bad mood when I realized just how slow we would be going to get me into the right training zone. After 3 miles of this irritable mindset, I found myself just plain fatigued. Fridays are like that for me. It is a long week of lots of running and cross training combined with not much sleep and full days with kids home. I always plow through Fridays with the thought of SRS... or Sweet Rest Saturday. As I trodded alongside my husband, who was probably enjoying this as much as I was, the thought of the fall ultra crept into my mind. It was something like "How in the HELL am I going to do 50 miles in a row? I am struggling right now with the 5 we've gone so far. I just don't know if I'm cut out for this. What am I doing? Why am I setting myself up for another disappointing, unachievable goal?" Let me say, it has been a long time since I've had thoughts like that. Actually, I have had a great couple of months (minus my disappointment in my Pig half marathon). I have not doubted my ability to complete a 50 miler. I have amused myself with the thought of "Ok, after 50, then what?" Knowing darn well that when I complete it, I'll also know I've got more limit testing to do. But today, I found myself seriously doubting my ability. So what did I do? I recalled the note my brother wrote to me before the Columbus Marathon. I decided to complete my 11 mile run the same way he instructed I complete miles 19-24. One step at a time, pushing from one crack in the road to the next. Telling myself I could walk if I wanted to. Only I knew I didn't want to. By mile 6, I was decently warmed up and actually in a nice zone. I glanced down at my HR... 141. Then clicked over to pace. 8:43. Yes, I was better now. Amazing how quickly the fog lifted then. The next thought after that was "Aw HELL YES I can run 50 miles!" And that is what we call riding the wave, my friends. Honor the mood, pay it some attention, let it in then let it go. I've found that constantly denying myself the right to feel a bit of anger, a bit of aggravation, a bit of jealousy, a bit of pure annoyances, a bit (ok, A LOT) of moodiness just sets me up for a huge blowup and blowout down the road.
So yes, honor the mood. And if it's a bad one, let it in, then kindly show it the door. Lord knows we all know people who allow it to set up camp and stay for awhile. Yikes... not a good way to live and definitely not fun to be around!
This is a comforting quote today. Probably one that I will refer to a zillion times this summer as I ramp up mileage never before achieved in any training I've done. The goal: 75-80 miles a week. Let's make that 75-80 miles a week of pain free, injury free miles! All done in preparation for what I hope to be my first ultramarathon, the JFK 50. Funny how many blogs ago, I was convinced that perhaps I could do just fine running a minimum of 30 miles a week. Running long primarily on weekends, throwing some shorter runs in during the week and using cycling as a substitute for any days I don't run. I don't think that way anymore. My goal for this ultra is yes, a finish. But I'd like to finish optimally conditioned and in a respectable amount of time. I won't put a definitive time goal on the race (hence I hate to call it a race), but I know I want to finish in what is considered a decent amount of time. I want to recover quickly, evaluate my like or dislike of ultra running and then decide what I'd like to attempt next.
Today was rough. I ran 11 miles with John (YES.. .I SAID JOHN!). For the first few miles, I ran annoyed. I have started training with a heart rate monitor, but old habits die hard and I couldn't help but sneak back and look at my pace. What a mood killer. First I was annoyed because he wasn't ready at 7 am like he said he would be. I am not a fan of running in the heat and it was getting hot. Then I was annoyed because my heart rate was lingering in the low 150's at a 9:4something pace. I was tired from an early morning spinning class and he seemed eager to go a little faster. I snapped at him to slow down so I could get my rate under control and became further in a bad mood when I realized just how slow we would be going to get me into the right training zone. After 3 miles of this irritable mindset, I found myself just plain fatigued. Fridays are like that for me. It is a long week of lots of running and cross training combined with not much sleep and full days with kids home. I always plow through Fridays with the thought of SRS... or Sweet Rest Saturday. As I trodded alongside my husband, who was probably enjoying this as much as I was, the thought of the fall ultra crept into my mind. It was something like "How in the HELL am I going to do 50 miles in a row? I am struggling right now with the 5 we've gone so far. I just don't know if I'm cut out for this. What am I doing? Why am I setting myself up for another disappointing, unachievable goal?" Let me say, it has been a long time since I've had thoughts like that. Actually, I have had a great couple of months (minus my disappointment in my Pig half marathon). I have not doubted my ability to complete a 50 miler. I have amused myself with the thought of "Ok, after 50, then what?" Knowing darn well that when I complete it, I'll also know I've got more limit testing to do. But today, I found myself seriously doubting my ability. So what did I do? I recalled the note my brother wrote to me before the Columbus Marathon. I decided to complete my 11 mile run the same way he instructed I complete miles 19-24. One step at a time, pushing from one crack in the road to the next. Telling myself I could walk if I wanted to. Only I knew I didn't want to. By mile 6, I was decently warmed up and actually in a nice zone. I glanced down at my HR... 141. Then clicked over to pace. 8:43. Yes, I was better now. Amazing how quickly the fog lifted then. The next thought after that was "Aw HELL YES I can run 50 miles!" And that is what we call riding the wave, my friends. Honor the mood, pay it some attention, let it in then let it go. I've found that constantly denying myself the right to feel a bit of anger, a bit of aggravation, a bit of jealousy, a bit of pure annoyances, a bit (ok, A LOT) of moodiness just sets me up for a huge blowup and blowout down the road.
So yes, honor the mood. And if it's a bad one, let it in, then kindly show it the door. Lord knows we all know people who allow it to set up camp and stay for awhile. Yikes... not a good way to live and definitely not fun to be around!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)