Snowman Half Marathon

The wind whipped through the trees.  Another breezy day in Mt. Pleasant.  A light dusting of snow had fallen overnight and just a bit of it remained in lower, sheltered areas.  As Matt, Joel, Kim, and I jogged to the race start, I couldn’t help feel nostalgia sweep over me. 

Returning to a previous home is always a little bit awkward.  The entire duration of the day-long visit to the place I spent my university years passed in a dream-like state.  Was I really here or was I dreaming?  I remember this stiff wind.  I remember the 20F mornings.  Yes, it was all coming back to me, snapped into the crystal clear focus of reality. 

The previous year’s race had only 150 people in three events, so Matt stood a pretty good chance of placing well and possibly taking home an age group prize.  He planned to race.  I planned to indulge a little more in that nostalgic feeling and planned to run with Joel.  I rarely get to see him and thought that a nice 2 hour run would be perfect for that.

Double the number of runners from last year, the race start was crowded.  Matt moved up to the front with the fasties and Joel, Kim and I settled somewhere in the middle.  We took off, I heard Joel talking to Kim behind me and kept on running.  Somewhere near mile 3, I turned around and he had disappeared.  Turns out, Joel’s voice twin was running the 10K and the sound vanished near the 10K turn-around.  Suddenly riddled with guilt for leaving my buddy behind, I slowed down.  Where the heck was he?!  Everytime someone passed me, I hoped it was him.  Dang.  I suck.

After I declared myself “World’s Suckiest Friend”, I realized the conditions.  The wind had picked up and now gusted to 30mph.  Icy snowflakes stabbed my eyes like little frozen needles.  I kept my head down to block it as I ran along.  We turned to the east and the air was suddenly quiet.  Running along the frozen gravel road with the wind, a wave of relief washed over me.  Finally a break from the wind. 

Notice that there are no frickin' trees.

When I hit a turn-around at mile 6, I slowed to a stop for the change in direction.  The guy behind me made an arc and mid-step fell to the ground.  I stopped and asked if he was ok.  He jumped back up, seemingly more embarassed than hurt.  Then I saw Joel, less than 30 seconds behind me.  I stopped for a bit to let him catch up and then began my profuse apologizing.  It was then that I noticed all the footprints in the snow revealed glare ice beneath it.  As the wind and snow picked up, I was happy to have a friendly distraction. 

We spent may snowy mornings just like this one together.  Joel was my college running buddy.  We laughed about how I wouldn’t have chosen a route like this one for our runs.  The best way for me to cope with the wind is to make a loop and add lots of out and back spots where I don’t have to be into the wind for very long.  On a map, it looks like a porcupine.

A couple of miles later, we hit the final turn-around and were heading back to the north.  With such a brutal southwest wind rushing at over 40mph, we thought the worst was behind us.

The snow came in from the side and filled my left ear.  I adjusted my hat to block it, but that shifted my discomfort from there to my frozen face, being pelted at near-highway speeds by tiny flakes.  Joel begun getting knee aches, so we walked some.  We made a deal that we’d run the really windy spots and walk the calm ones, but even our runs were slow.  Runners began passing us, completely coated in white on one side.  When the wind gusts were strongest, the runners ahead of us disappeared.  Their footprints were gone too.  Whiteout conditions made it appear that we were out there alone.  I held my mittened hand to my face as I ran, desperately trying to block any more windburn than I had already received, promising myself that I wouldn’t listen to Matt’s advice about the face mask next time. 

I joked with Joel that the conditions felt great.  A mental fortitude training run!!  I imagined myself running on a tropical island, the sea breeze gently blowing across my face.  It always works a little bit for me.  I think Joel had a different take on the situation.  He was either plotting my murder or reconsidering our friendship.  That’s a sign of true friend, right?

We continued in a walk-run pattern to the finish.  I was getting a little antsy to get done and out of the wind, so I drafted the wind for him, hoping that would keep us moving.  When we are feeling well, we both run the same speed.  We run different amounts now but are still similar in ability.  That’s pretty cool.

Matt finished in 15^th place overall in 1:31.  Joel and I shuffled across the line in 2:03.  Although I could have easily run the race faster at my own pace, I was happy to have shared that experience with one of my best friends.

Ann Arbor Six

Dressing for a run at 30F is something I haven’t done in almost a year.  As is usually the case, I was over-dressed.  Running along the B2B trail that follows the Huron River in Ann Arbor, I enjoyed the cooler temperatures.  For me, running at 30-50F is absolutely perfect.  Within a mile, my nose was bright red, still sensitive from a good frostbite I got during college when I rode my bike to the store one below zero night in college without a scarf.  Enough years have passed that it isn’t very painful, but it ensures a red clown nose.

After a full travel day and over 15 hrs of flying and layovers, I could definitely feel it in my legs.  They were heavy and stiff.  I met resistance with every step.  For the pace I was keeping, it felt really hard.  Ahh, jet lag, how much I hate you.  I am not used to sitting that long.  The run felt very much like the early morning ones at home except for one notable difference: the pavement.  Even though it was just below freezing, I could notice a marked difference in the firmness of the asphalt. 

Craig showed us around on the trail near his house.  I was immediately envious of all the wide sidewalks and paved trails to run on.  It was a road-runner’s paradise.  Before we left for the run, he called us Wimpy Californians.  But by halfway on his ride, he was the one complaining of the cold.  It is hard to dress for a bike ride at a runner’s pace.  One has to dress the same as they would sitting outside in the wind rather than a bike ride.  Even though we understood, we still had to give him crap for his whining.

 

A small pond was frozen over, but the river remained open to the swimming geese.  I keep forgetting how truly mild the winters are in this area (although this year it is even more mild).  Moving around through such varying climates, I can barely remember what winter felt like for each place.  I am always surprised that this part of Michigan gets little snow.  My parents’ home in the U.P. is so different.  Same state, but the seasons are so drastically different.  All the norms blend together and I never really know what to pack on a vacation here, let alone plan for a run. 

 

Six miles and about 55 minutes.  Not too bad for how horrible I felt starting out.

And I still have a few more runs to get my outfit right before Matt and I head out for a 30 miler sometime in the next week.  I’m looking forward to it, I missed the chilly winter air.

Testing out MRP on a long run

January 23, Long Run

With just one short break between weather systems, Monday was the perfect time for a long run.  The downpour had stopped and so had the 40mph winds.  When have I ever been this lucky?

The route was the usual with moderate hills.  Basically, nothing exciting about city streets so I’ll cut to the juicy stuff.  The splits. 

I planned to run the first half easy, six miles at a 9:00/mi and then pick it up.  I wasn’t entirely sure what would come of the rest of the run, but I would shoot for MRP (8:12).  The first mile going fast was difficult.  It almost appeared that my body was resisting the faster running.  The turnover just wasn’t there.  And a steep hill that goes down 75 feet and then back up within a quarter mile.  Adjusting to the long and short strides at the bottom of the ravine always makes my legs ask “What the hell are you doing to me?!”.  But somehow I found my stride and came up with splits like this:

12 miles, 1:44.05, 8:40/mi.

First 6 miles: 54:19, 9:03/mi.

Second 6 miles: 49:41, 8:16/mi.

Splits: 8:45, 8:12, 8:19, 8:14, 8:00.

I don’t plan on running MRP in this context often, but on days that I feel really “On”, I might just hit it hard and see what happens.  This day, it was almost cliché awesomeness.  All sunshine and rainbows, baby.

Going Public

For as long as my blog has been around, my family has not known about it.  In fact, most people in my life do not know it exists.  I definitely don’t feel like I have anything to hide…but maybe I should.

All joking aside, the main reason I don’t share it is that if my family read about my adventures, I would have absolutely nothing to talk about during our Sunday afternoon chats.  Since both of my parents are on Facebook, I haven’t shared it with anyone for fear of it accidentally leaking out to my immediate family.  For some reason, it feels more comfortable to share with complete strangers from all corners of the world than it does my own family.  Maybe it’s because they could (and would) judge me.  But most of all, I think what has stopped me in the past is the fact that I can’t undo my decision to share once I’ve made it.

Where I’m conflicted on this issue is that I think they would really enjoy reading about my adventures.  As Facebook has changed in recent months, I find myself shifting focus to my blog as a means of recording my travels and sharing fewer photos with them.

I’m looking for your input on this:  If you keep a blog, do you share it with your family?  Have you ever regretted your decision?  How does your family react to your blog?

Here's a little bit of my day to amuse you:
Sorry Matt, it looks like there won't be room in the suitcase for the rest of your stuff after all!

Patrick's Point 10K Race Report

But wait, wasn't I supposed to be running a 5K this morning?  Yup.  But on the car ride to the race, Kathleen and Alex mentioned they wanted to run the 10K and suddenly, I found myself thinking "why not?".  I've never run a 10K before, did you know that?  Plenty of nearly every distance, but 10K doesn't seem as popular in the places I have lived.  So no matter what time I crossed the finish line, I had a PR.  Hmmm...I could go for a PR today, sure. I didn't feel like going all out and dying, so I decided a marathon pace run would be nice.

The course was hilly and made two loops.  The first mile was a moderate uphill and I spent most of it cursing the track workout I did earlier in the week.  Wearing flats for the first time left me with hugely sore calves.  Now I could really feel them.  Mile two was a nice downhill recovery and I began to melt.  Overdressed because I expected it to be raining, I sweat profusely.  Nearing the 3 mile mark, I realized I probably had gone out too fast considering the hills.  People began passing me. 

Then we hit the halfway point and the 5K finish.  Those people that passed me ran through the finish chute.  5K runners, whew.  I spent more time contemplating hitting the chute with them instead of going out for a second loop than I care to admit to.  Isn't that how it always is?  It is a cruel joke to watch people finish and enjoy the cookies while I still have one more loop.  5K in 24:40.

Kathleen enjoys the race!

As always is the case, someone grew the hills larger between my first and second time through.  Near mile 4, the heavens opened and answered my prayers.  Relief from the overheating came suddenly as the torrential downpour soaked through my layers in a minute's time.  It felt amazing.  45 degrees and a cold rain, I seem to always run best at the 40-50 degree range.  So despite the squinting grimace (which was necessary to keeping my contacts in), I really was enjoying it.  Gosh, the cold felt nice.

 

Alex out for blood in the 10K.  He placed third overall.

Running into the wind pelted me with rain drops and I struggled to keep my contacts from washing out.  I really need to buy a running cap with a brim one of these days, huh?  One contact got lodged in my eyelid and I had to slow down and rub my eyelid to get it to center again.  Although it is better than having my eyes freeze shut (which is painful in addition to blinding), it did cause a bit of momentary panic when I thought I had lost my contact to the trail underfoot.

Alex appeared at about mile 5.5 and ran the rest of the way in with me.  I told him that I had thought about walking but hadn't yet.  "If you stop to walk, I'm going to kick you," he replied, "Gotta show some tough love."  After a few more rolling hills, the finish line appeared through the rain.  FINALLY.

Just so you know, it was a happy accident that my shirt and shoes matched perfectly. This was not done on purpose. haha.

I crossed the finish line in 50:49, with a pace of 8:10/mi, and close enough to the (8:12/mi) marathon race pace I wanted.  I never before thought I could hold that pace on a hillier course. Success! Danny came up to me at the finish and asked how I did, I told him I had a PR (he knew it was my first) and that I'm not sure I like the 10K distance.  Maybe I'll grow to like it more over time.  But now, it is a strange middle ground between 5K and a half marathon that makes pacing much more difficult for me to figure out.

A funny note: My club has few 25-30 year old women, but a lot of older men.  It appears that my pace is right there with the M50-59 age group, as I am always surrounded by older men.  The Boston Marathon Qualifying standard backs that up as their qualifying time is five minutes off of mine.

(All images contained in this post are courtesy of Y.Kim and 6RRC.)

Flashback Friday

My sister, Emily and I are 20 months apart in age. Until I was about 8 years old, we were mistaken for twins. Thankfully, we weren’t always dressed in matching outfits.

I’m about five years old in this photo, can you tell which is me?

Back to running-related things.  Tomorrow, I'm running a 5K in one of the local state parks.  It is the first of the free club races.  I don't plan on a PR, but instead running a tempo run.  This week, I wanted to do 3 miles at tempo pace (around 7:40/mi) and it fits pretty well into that plan.  However, if I sleep really well, you know I'll be changing my mind and going for a PR (under 7:30/mi).

Circular Speed

When Hubby, my running coach, put track intervals on my training schedule, I laughed. I actually laughed at him. “Good luck on making that happen”, I replied. A couple weeks ago, I happened upon a pair of Adidas track flats for $20 at a local discount store. They were gorgeous, and even if I never ran in them, they would still make really cute everyday shoes.

Today, Matt planned to run intervals with Danny. He was going to leave me behind and run without me!! Can you believe that?! Rarely does Matt run without me and when he does, he always leaves a very sad Karen behind. Just like a forgotten puppy, I sit by the window and wave sadly as he takes off, a pout on my face. “Give it a try, you might find you like it”, Alex always tells me. Okay, to humor both of them, I was running on the oval torture device.

Rain poured down in sheets. I watched curtains of thick droplets blow across the lines on the CR track. The warm-up mile was nice and slow. I can’t remember the last time I ran on such an even surface. It felt effortless. The light shoes felt great. After a few minor adjustments in the laces, I got to down to my own track workout as the boys set off on theirs.

Goal: 4 x 800 @ 3:34.

What I ended up with (and 1:30 rest in between):
1- 3:29
2- 3:40
3- 3:32
4- 3:34

I remember running 0.5 mi repeats on a stretch of road in our neighborhood in Fairbanks. That was the last time I did short intervals like that. To run a 3:40 nearly wrecked me. Today, despite the drenching I got, it was surprisingly easy. At :30/mi faster than my 5K pace, I definitely felt like I could continue on and do more. I eventually noticed aches in my calves with the lighter shoe.

And I guess that Alex was right (promise me you won’t tell him!!). When I don’t kill myself at EVERY SINGLE INTERVAL, it almost borders on fun. Removing obstacles that occur on my typical route (I do my tempo runs on a gravel trail and it does come with significant hazards), I found that I could focus exclusively on form and speed. And with just a few minutes of running and then rest, it wasn’t nearly as boring as running countless loops appears.

It helped that my iPod music didn’t suck. Mes Aïeux, you are a wonderful training partner.

Approaching

Low clouds hung overhead. A swift north wind ushered in an arctic breeze. Just like the flick of a switch, the weather pattern changed. A late afternoon glow thrust an ominous inky hue over the ocean. Winter was returning. The rains approached.

As my running entourage proceeded on, we chatted about the past few weeks. Alex had been out of town, snowshoeing amidst a family visit in the Adirondacks. My heart ached jealously. The models predict us to get up to 14” of rain in the next ten days. Hopefully that will produce a snowy dumping of gorgeous proportions upon the Trinity Alps. But for now it was a little drizzle and dark clouds ahead of the storm. We bobbed up and down along the contour of the dunes. My gaiters (the Dirty Girl ones) made for some amusing dirty jokes that kept us occupied. They also kept my feet from being flooded with sand.

The sun dipped behind the waves on the Pacific and we were thrust into darkness. Leaving the dunes, we turned back once more to the ocean. Tiny lights littered the horizon. Crab season began last week and fishermen have been working tirelessly to bring in as many as possible before the storm hit. They were returning to the harbor for the night. A long line of boat lights drifted to shore like the glow-in-the-dark version of the Loch Ness Monster.

Yes, winter is approaching. And I can’t wait for the rain. All this sunshine is pussifying me. (Yes, pussifying, my own new word.) Bring on the tough running.

One month until the Little Su 50K.

The 14 MilerThat Wasn't

After two hours of watching the Olympic Marathon Trials, Matt and I were jazzed to head out for our long run. Images of Ryan Hall's effortless and perfect form still swirling through my head, I knew that I went out too fast. I could feel it. Garmy gave me an 8:40/mi for my first seven miles when I got there one hour into the run. Not bad.

But as I hit the turnaround, I also hit a wall. Now, I don't normally whine about my hilly routes and how they affect the pace, but I would like to blame the hill for my crash energy. Of course it was the hill not just me going out too fast because I was excited . Yup, the hill's fault. :P One of those hills where I pushed and pushed thinking I was almost to the top only to find that I had to turn a corner and continue going up. Fab-u-lous.

The return trip, as a result, was a struggle. Not too eventful in itself, and a major positive split. 1:03 for the return 7 miles, and :20/mi slower than the way out.

While I was mapping this run on USATF's website to show the terrain profile, I found that my route was .50 mi longer than the Garmin registered. While we were out running, I did notice that the current pace varied a lot. My watch usually catches up and produces less than a 0.10 mi difference (over the course of a 15-20 mi run) from the mapped route, and usually the Garmin exaggerates (ie- about 26.35 mi too long for a marathon), so it must have gotten lost through the trees.

So, to make my run more accurate and make myself look waaaaaaaaaaaaay faster than the watch says , I'm going to use the mileage the map showed.


14.5 mi.
2:03.56.
8:32/mi.

Given that new information, I can't help but wonder, how much too fast was I going at the beginning? Probably something close to marathon pace. Yikes.

Have you ever gotten discrepancies like this within your watch? What kind do you have? Which calculations do you go by when you notice a difference?

Last week, I did Matt's speedwork on his bike, with Garmin 205 and his bike speedometer (which measures wheel rotations) and came up with about .20 mi difference (on a 7 mi ride) after weaving through a crowded part of town. We have also lost signal completely in the Redwoods. Although this route isn't completely new to us, we did a few new portions that must be under too many trees for constant satellite reception.

Speed

If I don’t thoroughly enjoy something in my life, I won’t do it. Period.

It has taken me a long time to become that person. I grew up as a people-pleaser, trying to keep peace in an otherwise chaotic family. But if I continued to please my family, I would be living in my hometown with a pile of kids, still smack in the middle of my family’s daily drama. When I left home to attend school, it was liberating. A life without constant tension: was it possible? Deep down, I know that is one of the main reasons I chose Matt as my husband, he had perfected a life of chill and I so desired to be that way too. I moved far, far away, and never returned. Call it selfish, but it as the university years passed by, I realized I had to discover a life that made me happy.

The funny thing is I never thought I’d add running fast to that list. Not only have I given up hating speed work with a fiery passion, I’ve come to enjoy and look forward to it. I admit, the best part of it is being done, but that runner’s high makes me tingle in the way a 6 hr. run in the forest can. Since I can’t run six hours every day, it really is the next best thing. Here’s how my speed workouts went this week:

Tuesday: 3 miles, MRP. Uneasy about running it on a harder route, I was surprised that it came as easy as it did. I just went out and told myself to run that pace and I could do it; then bam, it did. Matt and I ran together and he commented once “Wow, look at you, busting out your MRP like it’s nothing.” It really felt great that day.

Thursday: 5 miles, 3 fast. Last week, I did these at a 3x1mi, so I figured the next step is to do 2x1.5 mi:
11:15 (7:32/mi)
11:25 (7:35/mi)

I feel more confident now. I think part of it is that I don’t expect myself to run really fast everysingleday. Taking one or two running days a week to just go really slow has done a lot for my mojo, not to mention it lets me recover properly too.

Just as running too slowly is not hitting a goal pace, running too fast is as well. I have plenty of opportunity to run fast in other workouts, so running a MRP run at tempo pace will only hurt me later. Faster isn’t always better. All things that smart people will tell me, but I only have to experience for myself before I actually learn.

I feel better-rounded as a runner when I run at a variety of paces. From the 14:00/mi trail runs to the 6:25/mi wind sprints, I have pulled myself from the pace rut I’m accustomed to living in. I feel stronger in my legs, my heart, my lungs, and perhaps most importantly, in my head. The former parameters I set in my head that told me that my 5K pace was probably the fastest I could run? Gone. Truth is, I don’t know how fast I can go, but finding out should be fun.

I am still the girl that dreads the thought of running on the oval torture track, but I’ve come a long way from absolutely hating the feeling of running hard. I’ve got a long way before I can consider myself cured of stupid training errors, but at least I’m making a step in the right direction, yeah?

For the record, a crazy family is also a good thing.

Two Things Tuesday

I don’t usually enter giveaways, but I won one from Happy Mother Runner. Of all the blogs I follow, Amanda is the only person I have met in real life. In fact, we went to high school together. We recently reconnected over common ground: running. Check out her blog. BTW, this bra is awesome! Totally unlike anything I would think to buy for myself, as it is much lighter than my usual bras.

Pretty intense difference in my shoulder muscles. Can you tell which one is my gimpy arm?

Here’s my running board. Notice that I finally have the spring training schedule up. Now I don’t have an excuse for running 4+ days in a row without noticing. Apparently old habits die hard and this is how it has to be: printed out and up on the wall.

A closeup of my training plan. Matt and I sit down at the beginning of each year or training cycle and build a new one. We fit in races and vacations, adjusting mileage according to our schedules. If I were to train for a race without one, I'd DEFINITELY over-train by running every single day, cuz I'm smart like that .

I don't think I've ever completed any of my training schedules as prescribed. They always change as we go along, but I really like to see how I build and keep on going. You remember last year's disastrous long run idea of 12-16-20 for five months straight, right? Yup, need to see the big picture before I start out or there I will definitely be burnout.

Unprepared

This winter has been unusual throughout most of the Lower 48. More akin to the summertime pattern, it is bringing dry air and warmer temperatures. Even though it is January, it feels like July here. The current oscillation has pushed all of the rain we typically get here on the North Coast to the north and into Oregon and Washington. We are left with warm temperatures and no rain. No rain! As much as I love running in the sunshine and with dry shoes, I can’t ignore the underlying fear bubbling to the surface.

I chose the Little Su 50K in Alaska because I wanted an excuse to go play in the mountains to train. And train in the snow. But as this dry spell continues and snow is nowhere to be found, I find myself believing that I will go into this race more unprepared than any race I have ever done. Friends’ photos of ski trips with frosty faces renew the memories of my own experiences: The raw, dry burn of the -40F air stinging my throat, forcing up a cough with each unprotected breath; the laborious effort of every footfall; so many layers that I never feel more distant from nature, a wall of fleece and wool protecting me from the elements. These sensations couldn’t be more different than my training here in California.

Weather-depending, I may go into this race and not enjoy a single minute of it. I may not even finish. This feeling has never occurred in my racing history. I’ve always known I would finish, even if it were at a slow pace. Part of me wishes for a blind naivety of never before experiencing it; but another portion is glad for that experience because it provides an irreplaceable mental fortitude of knowing I’ve survived it before and surely can again.

The good news is that snow is probably coming soon, at least to the Midwest. With recent cold spells in Alaska, the cold air will soon move south. Matt and I plan to vacation for a week in Southern Michigan at the end of this month. This appears to be our only hope for training in colder conditions, a 30 mile icy road run. Hopefully that cold air will arrive when we do. Pray for record cold temperatures, please!

So until then, we train on ridiculously hilly trails, trying to improve our fitness, the only control in our preparations. Be the strongest we can be to face the conditions.

How do you prepare for a destination race when you train in weather drastically different than your own?

Bonus Miles and Gripes

Some days, running comes naturally to me. I am brimming with energy and the desire to continue on forever. Some days, it burns long and warmly like glowing embers in the fire. Others, it is a candle flame quickly extinguished by the smallest puff of air. Tuesday’s run was the latter. I woke up with the enthusiasm to run but by mile 3, the tightness in my shoulders and chest remained. It actually hurt to be this stiff.

Check out my new gaiters. Made with spandex, the seams don't rub against bare legs like my other gaiters do. Perfect for keeping dirt and twigs out.

Up Look Prairie trail, it almost felt worse to get three miles of warmup in ahead of the never-ending climb.

Eventually we rose to an area where the fog was lifting and lowering in a minute's time. The light was constantly changing. The following handful of photos were taken at various stages of fog.

I stopped for a snack. In a late night trip to the grocery store, Cheetos and Pop Rocks sounded like a good idea. Devoid of any nutritional value, I learned that they were basically empty calories that my body would never use. I did enjoy the orange fingers and popping on my red tongue though. Experimentation is what training runs are all about, aren’t they?
By the time we hit mile 13, we were finally running again and I had eaten one of my candy bars. Energy returned as sugar swirled through my veins. This is the fuel I need to stick to! After several rolling hills atop the ridge, I finally felt I hit my stride. Then we hit the trail junction.

My favorite photo of the day. Looks so peaceful yet eerie at the same time.

Matt always teases me about how I map our trail runs. I like to total the segments in my head and often miscalculate our miles. More often than not, we return home with what he calls “Extra special bonus miles” that we had not planned. For this particular run, I proudly emphasized to him that I used a calculator so we would have 25 miles exactly. At the trail junction, we planned to go down Pole Line trail, a steep downhill fire service road. But the allure of the Indian Orchard trail (single-track and about 1.5 mi longer) proved too much for Matt and he found himself being the one to add the bonus miles.

Some of our friends ask why we run as long as we do. Instead of using the common reply “If you have to ask, you’ll never understand”, (which I find to be condescending and not the least bit helpful) I try to explain in a way they can relate. To someone that likes to walk, I explain that it is like a walk, but just a faster pace. Matt and I stop for photos, snacks, and sometimes hold hands. Others, I tell them that it is like enjoying cooking or a favorite TV show. It is something we enjoy doing, and you like to make time for things you enjoy, right?
I also complained about certain things. Matt seems to be the most understanding of my complaints when he’s busy running. If I talk to him at home about things, he often zones out. My most recent gripe is people commenting on my lifestyle. The biggest one lately was this:

It seems that every time I go to the grocery store and buy veggies, someone mentions how healthy my purchases are. That is followed by a “no wonder you’re so thin”. This most often comes from overweight people, so I know it must be a guilty place inside them that feels they need to say something. But really, I don’t stand in line behind a fat guy that is buying a bunch of Cheetos, beer, and TV dinners and say to him, “no wonder your ass is so huge”. Unsolicited comments from strangers, definitely something I could do without.

Does anyone know what these things are? Some type of disease maybe?

When we reached the Homestead trail, it was pretty clear we’d be finishing the run in the dark. Varying hues of sunset reflected off the six streams we crossed. The muddy clay trail grew a two-inch thick platform beneath my running shoe. The knobby tread on my shoes was completely covered up. It built up so thick on my heel that I felt I was running in heels. A dull ache directly behind my knee grew. This ache has appeared twice before, always following a long, steep downhill section. (Any ideas on exercises I can do to strengthen that muscle so it doesn’t hurt would be helpful!!)

As we paused to find our headlamps on a road between two trails, a car passed. It rolled by slowly and a hand emerged from the open driver’s window. Videotaping us in the dark? Weird. We made a point to rejoin the trail as soon as possible. The batteries in my headlamp grew weaker and the light barely made a difference. Matt traded lamps with me and I could see again.

We moved at a slow but steady pace. I find that by the time I reach the last five miles of a long run my pace really evens out and I get into a zone. As a result, it actually becomes faster. This is what I think the allure of ultramarathoning is for a lot of people: reducing yourself to something raw and experiencing life in the purest way. All worries of the outside world dissolve; keeping going, eating, and surviving is the only thing to worry about. Having spent nearly a year of my own life just trying to stay alive, I don’t understand why people do that for sport. I do, however, find that ultras, for me, are a way to test what I really can do. I believe that my mind sets a lot of my limits, and sometimes, I like to push past my mind’s boundary. Those might go together in someone’s motives, but they do not in mine.

I enjoyed running Matt’s bonus miles. I enjoyed the fact that we had the fitness and navigational tools necessary to change course.

26.5 mi.
5:32.
12:33/mi.

Update since my last run post:
That afternoon, I grew more weak and fatigued even after a double espresso. A few hours later, I spiked a fever. Turns out, I was coming down with something.

Two days later and I still have the same low-grade fever and have had no motivation to do anything. As is usually the case, I can never be sure whether being run down weakened my immune system and made me sick or if I was sick and that is what made me tired. Either way, I'm taking rest days until the fever goes away.


What do you tell people when they ask why you run the amount that you do?
I try to explain it in the clearest way possible. They don't need to know the details, and if I were to tell them, they would probably just get bored anyways.

How do you react to people judging your lifestyle?
Your lifestyle is always a choice. ALWAYS.

I could go on and on about specific things, but this is a running blog, not a whiny blog, so we'll leave it at that.

Tour of Mattole

Matt, Chris, and I took a tour of the Redwoods and went out Mattole Road to Honeydew. My brother isn't openly enthusiastic about things, but when he is, it is almost always sarcastic. While standing beneath a 350 ft. Redwood he asks, "When are we going to see the big trees?"





Then we continued on Mattole Road to Honeydew and the Lost Coast.

Matt's favorite shot. Rain caught in the sunset.

I took this picture with a 30 second shutter and about 25 seconds in, I had to grab the camera and run as a car passed us on the road. Ruined the original shot, but looks kinda cool either way.

Bad Days

Just as I share my triumphs with you, I also share my shortcomings. If you've followed my blog long enough, you know that I sometimes make stupid mistakes. This usually comes in the form of over-training and never really harms anyone other than myself. I thought I had grown wiser from previous mistakes, but it seems I continue to make them. Here's what happened.

This morning I intended to run 5 miles, three at a tempo pace. A nagging soreness directly behind my knee (that began on Tuesday's long trail run) prompted me to shorten it to three miles at a recovery pace before I even stepped out the door. I stretched it in the hot tub, rolled, then stretched while running. That ache went away, but a new tightness formed in my shin. I just 100% wasn't feeling up to it. Five minutes into it, I turned around and went home. A single mile for today.

Some people would recommend running though uncomfortable and unmotivated days, claiming they make one stronger. I really know my body well and today was not an ordinary "blah" day.

Feeling deflated, I consulted my running log. Immediately I found the problem:
Saturday- 12.6 miles, hard because I felt great.
Sunday - 3 miles, a super easy pace with lots of stopping to stretch.
Monday- 6 miles, marathon race pace. Comfortably hard.
Tuesday- 25+ miles on trails, super slow but hard. (still working on a recap)
Wednesday- Rest day!
Thursday- epic failure today.

That's not enough rest; anyone can see that. But I didn't.

I'm used to having a training plan printed out and tacked to a wall so I can look at it and change things around based on my schedule. It is easy to see consecutive run days. My current schedule still remains on the Excel spreadsheet on my computer. I thought it would be fine to just write weekly plans on my personal planner book. But every Sunday morning, I turn the page. Suddenly I can no longer see the previous week. Without Saturday's long run, I would have been fine.

---

This week was designed to be an experiment. Can I do a tempo and race pace run in the same week? With my current fitness level, I've got to say NO. And that is okay.

As for that tempo run I skipped today, I'm just going to scrap it and start fresh next week. (finally one lesson I know I learned well!!) Instead, I'll spend the day perusing the town shops and having a coffee date with the Hubby. Retail therapy, anyone?

What do you do to cope with disappointing runs?
I just take them as they are and try to rationalize the shortcomings. Sometimes there is a reason, sometimes not.

Family Holiday

Each Christmas Holiday season, I watch stresses build within my friends and in strangers. They rush around frantically, searching for the perfect gifts and preparing their homes for visitors. I've always packed up my gifts early and sent them to family, completing all my holiday prep by Dec. 10 just so packages arrive on time. Then I sit back, enjoy my peppermint coffee and observe the madness.

This year, we actually had family visit. For the first time in my adult life, I spent Christmas and the New Year with a member of my family: my brother, Chris.

Once a runner, he turned to weight lifting after one year of college cross country that physically burned him out. He'd tell me how buff he was getting. Scrawny Chris was getting JACKED, suuuuuure. I never believed it. I told him that he better start building endurance to keep up with us on his visit. He laughed and said he didn't need it. Coming from his home at 7,500 ft. in Santa Fe, he figured he would leave US in the dust running near our sea-level home.
As Matt loaded his bag into the trunk of the car, Chris gave me a big squeeze hug and lifted me from the ground. He sure was strong. Until....
We took him running. I assured him that we would go slow on our run. He thought that a 12:00/mi sounded easy. It was a lot of fun and we did go slow. As he speaks exclusively in sarcasm, it is sometimes hard to tell if Chris is really enjoying something.

Oh c'mon little brother, you know you love me!!

Those three miles would trash him (and his knee, the main reason he stopped running in college) for the remainder of the week. There are so many different types of fitness and this run made that point glaringly obvious for us. Matt and I have endurance and can keep going, but lifting heavy things? Leaves us sore for days. Chris appeared to have the opposite problem.
We found a jet ski buried in the sand on the beach. I always enjoy imagining how far the debris traveled from. Did the person crash their jet ski? Were they okay? Or did a storm rip it from a dock somewhere.
After our run, we drove away, Chris buzzing high off his first runner's high in years. He said that he needed to start running again (probably just so he is faster than his sister again). What we all think is a good idea during a runner's high and reality is often very different. I think that all my good (Matt may not agree they are good) running ideas are born from the Runner's High euphoria.
We made a stop north of Trinidad. When we have visitors, we like to explore at least one place that we have not visited before. College Cove was that place.
We walked down a path that was carved from a very dense and tangled mass of shrubs and blackberry brambles. Without heavy grooming, this trail would disappear within six months. Things grow quickly around here.
Perching on bare rocks above the Pacific Ocean, we watched the waves crash along the shore while the sun set. I love that this section of coastline is so void of human intervention. No summer homes. Just rocks and water.

Homemade pizza for dinner with a cutie brother. Proof that I didn't hog
all of our family's good looks for myself ;) hehe.