Skunk Train Wedding

Saturday morning, Matt and I set out for a short run in Willits.  It was 70F and sunny when we began our run.  Even though most of the trip was along the highway, this time of day was peaceful and quiet.  We turned off the highway and began running east through the valley.  The only person we saw on the run was a man on a bike.  He pulled up alongside us and said, “C’mon, run faster!  You can do it!”  Matt took off in a sprint.  His sudden increase from my easy pace to his sprint pace surprised the man.  “Wow,” he gasped.  When I caught up to Matt and biker man, he offered, “Hey, let me buy you guys an energy drink.  My treat.”  When we declined, he told us to have a good day and he disappeared into the nearby grocery store.  I love having little encounters like that.

We quickly returned to the hotel for a shower and then set out for the main purpose of our entire trip: Alex’s wedding.  Of the friends we have in our local area, Alex is, by far, our favorite.  There’s something about our running buddies that creates a closeness we never feel with other friends.  You’ll remember that we spent most of our summer last year running with Alex on our day-long runs.  We also ran our first 50K race as a trio.  I still remember when he first told us about his new girlfriend, Jamie, on a Headwaters run.  Of the friend weddings we’ve been to, this was the only one where we knew the relationship from the very beginning.  We were also the only local friends of Alex that attended the wedding.  

Not sure what kind of animal that is, but I sure don't want to meet one in the wild!

I’m not much for big weddings, so this intimate one on the Willits Skunk Train was my favorite.  We took the train into the woods for a ceremony on the open-air car overlooking a river.  Matt and I stood just feet away from the action.  We got to see all smirks and cute little nuances of a loving couple on their wedding day.  And for the third time in our entire relationship, I heard Matt sniffle and tear up a little.   

We didn’t know anyone other than the bride and groom, so when a woman came up to us and addressed us by name, we were a little surprised.  Turns out, Alex’s mom recognized us from some of my running photos on Facebook.  His parents were both relieved that Alex had someone to run with and that he wasn’t just sitting home under a bare bulb by himself.  They thanked us for befriending him.  Of course, the feeling is mutual.  We absolutely adore their son, so it is just as much a gift to us as it is him.

Fire Sky

As we drove south on Hwy 101, the perfect blue sky dirtied.  This time of the afternoon usually means the fog and stratus clouds are invading the coast.  Something was different about the look of these clouds.  These clouds were darker, dirtier.  It was smoke.  We drove through pockets of wildfire smoke as we moved through a series of valleys and ridge tops.  I’ve found very few moments to be glad that I still haven’t regained my sense of smell, but this was one of them.

When we reached our hotel in Willits, the parking lot was full of green USFS trucks and red CalFire ones.  We checked in behind a fire crew boss reserving 10 rooms.  In all of our travels, we have never mistakenly booked a room on the wrong day, but we happened to do that for this day.  By some stroke of luck, the hotel had a single cancellation: a smoking room on the first floor.  It was better than sleeping in the car overnight.  The hotel was also wonderful enough to provide us with a fan to blow some of the stink out and Matt was very grateful.   

That night, we soaked in the hot tub with a fire crew from Oregon.  It was their first day on the nearby fire and they were rested and excited for more action.  They were also happy that their boss let them use the pool.  Normally, they are so covered in soot that even a couple of showers will not make them clean enough to take a dip.  It was fun chatting with them about their adventurous occupation.

 My #1 trick for traveling on a budget: pack your own meals.

Blogging Slump

These last couple months have been hard on the blog.  What energy I could muster was put into everyday life.  Even my running felt flat.  Each footstep felt heavy and lifeless.  I drastically reduced volume to help alleviate the stress.  Each run left me with an enormous sinus headache.  It is fair to assume that whatever my seasonal allergy is, it is coming from outside.  I began showering and blowing my nose immediately upon returning from a run.  How I decided that could possibly help, I don’t quite know, but it did.  Remove the irritant, sure, sounds logical.  Still, my runs felt like nothing anyone would be interested.  I didn’t want to become the person that just added stats from their runs, I wanted them to have a reason to be interested in what I wrote, perhaps a little story or description behind each day.  Basically, I didn’t have the power to keep to my usual standard.  So if you’ve been reading through this rough spot and haven’t left yet: thank you.

Matt and I went on a mini vacation last weekend.  It was just enough to rev up my writing and breathe some life into running.  It also helped that normal energy levels had returned.  I look forward to writing and telling you all about it.  We ran on trails and roads, in four different towns, and on planned and unplanned routes.  We also went shopping for running stuff.  IT. ROCKED.

Have you ever lost your enthusiasm for blogging?  How did you get it back?

MRP #4

Just like that, the fog lifted.  It must have been my Summer Visitor post from earlier this week that drove the clouds away.  Sometimes the Redwood Curtain feels like an invisible barrier, where things are the very same on both sides.  This summer has felt more isolating, at least in terms of the weather.  There have been at least a dozen wildfires burning within 100 miles of here.  Their air is hot and smoky.  Everyone complains of the poor air quality and smoke headaches.  Out here on the coast, there’s absolutely no sign of that other than what we see on the evening news.  It is business as usual.  If nothing else, it is foggier this year because of the prolonged heat and drought inland.

Matt and I took our MRP runs to Samoa yesterday.  Samoa is essentially a sandbar that includes a handful of small towns and shipyards as well as our local U.S. Coastguard station.  This is typically the foggiest of our running spots.  I decided that I didn’t want to do any more miles than I needed, so it would be MRP straight from the beginning.  The first mile felt like heaven.  My skin drank in the delicious sunshine, as if it had to gluttonously swallow every moment before the clouds returned.  Our route moves gently up and down as we glide over the paved sand dunes.  Somehow it feels like we go at a slight uphill the whole way.  By the 2.5-mile turnaround, I realized I was far ahead of pace.  I couldn’t believe how wonderful I felt.  Instead of slowing down my second half to make it an even 8:00/mi average, I decided to see if I could hold it.  Not a big deal doing MRP runs too fast at this point, I’m sure they’ll be closer to prescribed pace once I add faster-than-MRP-pace speedwork in.

As soon as we turned around, the 10mph north wind hit us.  It felt incredible.  As someone that sweats so profusely in the 90%+ humidity we have every day, I actually thrive in windier conditions as it cools me off more quickly.  By mile 4, I realized I was actually going uphill and it wasn’t one of those sand-induced mirages.  My main goal was to keep from using Matt as a wind break.  Here are my splits:

After half a bottle of water, Matt and I set off on his MRP run.  Since his goal pace is 6:40/mi (he’s going for a 2:55 marathon), I jumped on the bike.  The wind completely dried my sweaty clothes and I felt refreshed.  It was a nice active cool down for my legs, and again, they absolutely loved the sunshine.  Matt nailed his race pace run too, averaging a 6:38/mi.

Apparently, I also did some swimming as part of my run was three feet below sea level.  Thank you Garmin, for giving me a triathlon today.

Matt pointed out something encouraging on the run that day: Even though my MRP runs are faster than last time, I seem to struggle less with them.  I can actually hold a conversation with him until the last mile when it gets difficult.  Last time, I mostly made grunting sounds and forced words like “So. Tired. Must. Stop.  Hurts. So. Much.”  I suggested it was because I’m running more faster stuff and am just getting used to the pain difference that comes with speed rather than endurance training.  He just thinks I’m getting stronger.  Lord, I hope so, because some days I think that going for a 3:30 marathon is downright terrifying.  But if I keep at it and train smart, there’s no reason it shouldn’t happen…eventually…right?

Sunshine Visitors

"Be sure to pack a sweatshirt and pants.  Our summers aren't very warm."  This is the warning that I give everyone that comes to visit our little foggy town.  Nobody believes that I can live in California and have to wear jeans all summer long.  Fog blankets the coast, so thick that it actually accumulates on nearby surfaces.  It is hard to tell whether I am sweating a lot more or if I'm drenched from meteo sources.  Nobody believes that my browned skin is genetic and not at all related to our (lack of) sunshine.  Nobody believes that the town set a new record one day in July, receiving 0.07" of precipitation, from nowhere else but that moist fog cloud.

Perhaps none of our visitors believe us because the sun magically appears.  After weeks of either low fog and drizzle or mid level clouds, bright light and blue fill the sky.  We notice the difference, as people flock to the beach.  The temperature is actually three degrees lower than the previous day, but the lack of clouds makes the 90% humidity feel "hot".

My childhood friend, Neal, from sunny and triple digit Sacramento, noticed right away.  "Is it always this cloudy here?  Did you know I had to stop and buy a jacket when I first got to town?"  We explained that this was actually a bright day with only about 50% cloud cover.

Early July brought Austin to town.  You'll remember we visited him in Monterey last year.  His town gets much more sunshine than us, but he's no stranger to coastal fog.  Again, sunshine and fair sky greeted him.

Brittany and Oliver, our friends from Fairbanks, stopped to visit during a road trip along the coast.  After a few days of cloudy weather along Highway 1, they were surprised to see sunshine here.  So were we.  As natives of the PNW, they were used to dressing for the moisture and fog, but found themselves peeling off insulating layers as the sun appeared and disappeared.

So basically, none of our friends believe that those sunny days are unusual.  To me, all it means is that I need to have company more often!  What do you think?

Perspective

For the last few days, I’ve been struggling with a nagging discomfort on the area directly behind my knee.  It doesn’t hurt while running, but it does cause my knee to lock up if I sit with it bent too long.  After two months of reduced running volume, it is no secret that I’m anxious to get back into the higher mileage and speed workouts.

Yesterday, on a beautifully sunny day at the Marsh with Matt, Tanya, AND Alex, the pain crept into my workout.  I frantically searched online for stretches and a diagnosis.  Since it has only been going on a few days, I was confident that I could reverse the problem quickly.  Then I remembered Saturday’s run.  I went out in my racing flats for an easy and very tentative two miles.  My calves are often sore the day after, but that didn’t happen this time.  I’m assuming that run was entirely responsible for the problem I was having.  The timing was too perfect.  So I started with my usual aches and pains regimen: Icy Hot, hot tub stretching, foam rolling, Ibuprofen, and even breaking out the tennis ball for some deep tissue “hurts so good” massage into my butt.  The tightness didn’t wake me up overnight last night.  I awoke with no pain. 

Then I thought about my family.  In an effort to reduce the amount of phone calls and texts while tending to her family (she's got three other kids, all under 7 years old), my cousin SH updates her Facebook status to relay news to all her friends.  Her one year old daughter, Little D., had surgery for a large growth between two bones in her hand.  The surgery went well, but it is malignant.  It will take up to a week to process the tumor and find out which cancer they are dealing with and how to proceed.  Suddenly, vivid memories of my own biopsy morning and diagnosis flood back.  If they find that Little D also has Ewing’s Sarcoma (a very rare type of bone cancer, only 100 diagnoses in the U.S. per year), I’m sure I will finally lose it.  To think of the fear my cousin and her family feel at this moment saddens me.  There’s nothing I can do or say to relieve them of it.

Suddenly, the drama of my knee seems pretty moot.

Recovery

I'm sure you all are sick of hearing about how I'm still sick, I know I am.  Wednesday was the final day of my 10-day course of heavy duty antibiotics.  The first few days of taking it, I felt great (die evil infection! die!), but as the days went on, my sinus symptoms were replaced with the side drug's effects, namely, dizziness, tight muscles, and a pain and tightness in my chest and lower back.  It has made my running schedule more complicated.  When recovering from something, whether it injury or illness, it is always difficult to determine how much is "too much", especially since that barometer changes each day.  The only way I can find it is to push until my body asks me to let up.  When I'm healthy and training hard, I shove that feeling aside, but these last couple weeks, I've been listening.  As a result, I've done zero speed miles and cut some runs completely.  While some people feel guilt about it, I don't.  Matt and I are thinking of this as a way to mentally recharge while our bodies take a time out.

Today was my first speed day since I began the antibiotic.  I planned to run 5 miles at MRP.

This is how it went:

warm-up mile: 8:55
MRP miles: 7:55, 7:59, 8:05, 8:09 average of 8:01.
cool down miles: 9:11, 9:38.

Matt and I chatted comfortably during the first few miles, but I got a cramp in my side halfway through and felt dizzy.  My body asked me to stop about 3.5 mi into the 5mi.  This fatigue didn't let up as it sometimes does when I turn away from the wind, so after 4 miles of MRP, I had enough.  Matt and I paused to stretch and then we ran/walked the two mile cooldown back home.  Basically, I look at it this way:

1.  Power through everything now and feeling progressively more beat up and take another month of alternating crappy runs with good ones before I feel healthy again.
OR
2. Pull some of the tough stuff from my plan and let my body feel strong again before I resume.  It will likely sacrifice the 5K PR I was going to attempt in early September, but that is more than fine with me.

There's no point in beating my body too much when I'm only about 90% healthy, it will only prolong the recovery process.  And besides, CIM is 15 weeks away.

How do you deal with setbacks early in training?  Do you freak out about missing runs?