A Day with Ranger Thomas

Sometimes it's easy to take public lands for granted. After all, it's nature, it would exist just fine without any human involvement. Most of us can recall seeing evidence of those who work tirelessly to protect these precious public lands, whether it's trail maintenance or the occasional presence of an official duty vehicle roaming around. Outside the visitor center, it's rare to spot these people in action. Last Tuesday, I spent the day with someone who helps protect one of these important places. 

Humboldt Redwoods State Park is home to the the largest contiguous old growth coastal redwoods forest (over 17,000 acres) on the planet. This state park just happens to be where I do most of my trail running and as a result, the place where I chose my trail race to be held each June. As a condition of my permit this year, I'm required to do a walk-through in advance of the event. I've never been asked to do this before, but as I've slowly been learning, the ranger I worked with in the past hasn't exactly followed all the rules (like boozin' and snoozin' on the job).

I climb into the pickup truck cab next to Ranger Thomas and he greets me with a smile. We've been exchanging emails for the past six months and it's always nice to finally put a face to the name I've seen so frequently in my inbox.

As we climb higher and higher along the course, we chat about our favorite trails, animals we've encountered, and the most recent trespass grow discovered in the park. We share stories and it's soon clear to me that we have a lot in common: we both love and respect this place in all its rugged glory. He seems impressed when I tell him that one summer, I made it my goal to cover all the trails in the park, over 100 miles of them. I'm not sure he believed me because his next few questions sounded like a quiz: "Have you seen the pack of wild horses?" Yes, except they're not all that wild. They were sad we didn't bring any carrots. (Long run post, here.)

June 2011

"Have you seen the pond off of Peavine?" Yeah. "Have you been on South Prairie Trail?" You mean the one beautiful section of singletrack in the middle of nowhere? Yup.

Also June 2011

Soon a downed tree blocks our path. Ranger Thomas dons safety gear and fires up the chainsaw. I jump out of the cab and pull branches out of the way. Together we clear the road before we're stopped by one too large for his chainsaw so we continue on foot.

Once on the trail and endorphins begins to fill my head, I become more comfortable and begin asking questions about the job itself. I soon learn that unlike national park rangers who are assigned to specific duties, those within the California state park system do a little bit of everything. "Some days, I'm in the office all day. Others I'm out on law enforcement calls, coordinating worker groups for trail projects, or out here hiking on the trails," he says, adding that they're hiring and I should apply. For a moment, I'm tempted, it sounds like fun. Hang out here everyday and get paid for it? Yes please!  But then I realize that my arm would probably keep me from doing all but the simplest inside tasks.

A little more of the professional facade melts away as the miles pass by. "How are you with a chainsaw?" Thomas asks as we reach yet another downed tree. After a few of my stories, he now knows I'm able to handle myself out in the wilderness and can cover a lot of miles at once, he jokingly tells me that he can hook me up with a chainsaw and I could run with it strapped to my pack. We reach another tree blocking our path. "Your pocket chainsaw would be pretty handy right now." By the end of the day, I realize that he's probably not joking.

As a compromise, I offer to tell him that if I encounter any washouts or trees blocking trails. He agrees and then adds a few things to mention if I see something, such as the size of the tree, type, etc. so he knows how many people to send to clear it out.

I snap the above photo and explain it will go on the race's Facebook page. "That picture should get at least ten more people to sign up," he says, "but how come you're only taking pictures of the beautiful sections of downhill trail?" Haha, he knows how hilly and tough my race course is.

He asks more about the running club and my role in it. Although it's on a much smaller scale and doesn't pay as well (read: volunteer), it seems to parallel how he's involved in the park. I do a little bit of everything, have my share of jobs in front of a computer screen, and sometimes I spend long days out on the trails too. Even though my trail race is only in its third year, I've had numerous runners tell me they didn't know about these trails and my race inspired them to explore more. Now many of them regularly head into the park to train. In my mind, that's how you know your trail race is a success!

By the end of the day, I feel like we've come to a place of mutual understanding and cooperation and I look forward to June 4th. I know why he places the hoops I have to jump through and he better understands the reasoning when I ask him to bend the rules in a few small ways. I really enjoyed this outing and look forward to race day!

Five days!

Canyon Creek and the Perfect Campsite

"We can come back to that one," I hear myself reply again as Matt points out yet another suitable campsite. While the forested sites offer protection from the elements, I can't erase the picture in my mind, and it beckons from high on a mountaintop.

I'm searching for the alpine country and mountain peaks, complete with wide open spaces free of mosquitoes. Since there's still plenty of daylight left, we agree to travel another thirty minutes before committing to a spot.

We tiptoe across fallen trees so conveniently placed as bridges over swollen streams. After almost a mile of climbing over blown down trees, we reach the switchbacks I've been thinking of all afternoon.

Much of the climbing is via granite boulders positioned as stairs and I remember to the time I ran this trail instead, each step swift and nimble. Of all the Trinity Alps trails, I know and love this one the best. It's also the most easily accessed from my home, especially this year due to the slip out that caused a full closure of Highway 3 (which is still closed).

I love that each visit to Canyon Creek is different. Recent warmer weather has melted much of the snow out of the mountains, swelling creeks to three or four times their normal size. Waterfalls cascade from places I've never seen before, with such force that the cacophony of Mother Nature echoes off the mountain walls. We decide to forgo the waist-deep crossing of icy Canyon Creek to the lakes at the end of the trail and settle somewhere near the falls instead. The current scenery is so spectacular that I don't mind at all.

Upper Canyon Creek Falls

Finally we reach the spot I've been thinking about all day: the perfect campsite. It's sheltered enough to keep the tent from flapping in the night but open enough to offer an array of breathtaking jagged peaks in every direction.

We set up the tent together and then I busy myself inside setting up our sleeping bags while Matt fires up the stove. I arrive just as he's about to pour water into my bag of freeze-dried macaroni and cheese. Warming my hands on the bag while my dinner cooks, I lean back against a boulder and take in the view that we have all to ourselves tonight. Springtime in the Trinities is my favorite.

Looking over the edge of Lower Canyon Creek Falls. This is where we got our water. Yum!

We tuck into our down cocoons shortly after nightfall and spend the evening enjoying the distraction-free company. Matt and I tell a story, taking turns passing the plot line back and forth at the most dramatic parts. Princess Karen and her kitty, Puffball, have been the main characters in our stories for as long as I can remember. Our most recent new character is Bandit, a very resourceful raccoon, who lives in their backyard and stirs up trouble.

The next morning, I awaken to a flat light filtering through the walls of the tent. I notice an opaqueness clouding up the window. I tap on the tent walls and some of it falls away. Sometimes springtime, even in late-May, brings snow.  Matt groans in his sleep as I excitedly point out it out. Uninterested in leaving his cozy nest at such an early hour, he stays in the tent while I take a few photos, to prove to him later that it wasn't a dream. He still doesn't move when I return to the tent so I climb back in and doze off again myself.

The thought of hot coffee coaxes us out of the tent. As usual, I pack up the inside as Matt retrieves the bear barrel and prepares breakfast. Even though it has been awhile since our last trip, falling into old routines is simple and comforting. Remembering back, I know that the reason I took on the inside role is because it was raining on one of our first trips together and I wanted to stay dry as long as possible. Sometimes breakfast is the only thing that will get me to come out.

Less than twenty-four hours after we left the trailhead, we've returned. The whole trip is so quick that it seems more like a pleasant dream than reality. I hope this dream, complete with the perfect campsite, will be a recurring one.

Track and Trail Combo Season

Mud squishes underfoot and the aroma of musky earth hangs in the morning fog. My senses are overloaded, calming me as I find my peaceful state that I only find in the wild. I'm away from all the distractions of traffic, crosswalks, and barking dogs. For just a short period of time, the chaos of modern society and all its expectations, trappings, and temptations disappears.

It's trail running season again.

Headwaters Forest last Saturday

While tapering for the marathon, my thoughts already drifted ahead to a summertime of running. Originally and probably for the third or fourth year in a row, I had plans to work on shorter distances like the 5K. When it comes to that short distance, I know I need practice in the form of several 5K races if I expect to do well. With just two club 5Ks the whole summer, I wasn't sure if the sacrifice was worth it. Sacrificing mountain running. Sacrificing long days on trails. I needed to try to do both.

Canyon Creek backpacking trip this week

I've got a training plan set so once my legs are completely recovered from the marathon, I'll run two fast workouts a week and take a long day on trails. Everything in between is flexible based on my adventure plans and energy level. Road runs during trail season feel so fast and light, I might be surprised how the two compliment each other.

Headwaters Forest on Sunday

Last weekend was my first official trail weekend. While I'm not running much speed work yet, I'm getting plenty of quality time outside while I meander forest trails and climb ridiculously steep hills. It feels right.

I can always find more willing friends to run on the trails vs. the roads.

As for races, I've got three of them:

July 4: Arcata Marsh 5K. This one is a local trail run. It's non-technical and flat. Mileage will be a bit high here,  but I'm going to race it as hard as I can and see how it goes.

July 17: Fortuna Rodeo 5K. This is the club's fastest 5K course. It's an out-and-back with just two turns. It falls in the perfect place during the taper for a fast time.

July 23: Siskiyou Outback 50K. I can't seem to get enough of southern Oregon these days so this was the logical choice. If the weather is favorable, I think the trail and track combo might set me up nicely for a PR and maybe sub-5:30 time.

Is it wise to target races at two ends of the distance spectrum? No idea, but I'm going to try. More pretty trails, here I come!

Grasshopper Peak course walk-through with Ranger Thomas on Tuesday.

Has anyone had experience running PRs at shorter distances while training for longer ones? Am I foolish to think this might work?
Back when I was a more beginner runner, this seemed to happen a lot, but these days it's not so common. I guess we'll see how it goes! :)

Girls' Weekend With Zoey

A squirrel dashes across the grass, running from tree to tree as he gathers food. He makes a stop at our fire pit before approaching the porch. He can smell my breakfast. I'm leaning against the door to the yurt, Zoey is perched beside me. While I sip my morning coffee, her gaze remains fixed on the small moving animal. This is how we spent our mornings together last week.

While Matt was away at a climate conference in Washington DC, Zoey and I took a little road trip to our favorite southern Oregon yurt. After a run on Sunday night, I told a few of my running buddies that I was going on a trip. They asked if I was going alone and I said no. Nothing makes one sound more like the crazy cat lady that admitting to going on a vacation with the cat!

Each day began with a trip outside. At first, Zoey was timid, crouching low to the ground as her nose twitched with curiosity. Even though Zoey loves being outside, she's always cautious and shy in new settings. By the final morning, there was a kitty waiting by the door when I awoke. Once I slipped her harness and leash on, she meowed in excitement and her tail perked up. She's always loved going outside.

After breakfast each morning, I went for a run. Some runs were on the nearby bike path leading straight from the campground, others required a bit of a drive.

Rogue River Greenway Trail

The campground coyote, via zoom lens of course.

While I went out and got some sunshine, Zoey settled in for a nap, usually forgoing her own bed for mine. Figures.

That giraffe print bed is hers. I even brought the gray blanket in case her bed was suddenly unacceptable.

One afternoon, I decided to explore the Grizzly Peak trail, some thirty miles away. I offered Zoey some fancy canned cat food I bought specifically for our getaway and then went off on my own adventure.

Burn area on the west side of Grizzly Peak.

While my adventure was high on a mountaintop and relatively cool, it heated up quickly in the valley so I made a trip back to the yurt to open all the doors and windows so Zoey didn't overheat and get her a little adventure time too.

Zoey meowed a bit on the trip home so I stopped and let her out of the carrier. When I began driving again, she settled in on my lap as I drove. We returned home and when I went to bed, Zoey settled in next to me and slept there for the night. After this trip, I'm convinced that this girl likes me more than the typical cat-like indifferent tolerance to her human companion.

Taking selfies with a cat is much harder than expected.

Having a weekend getaway with my little kitty was wonderful. Since Zoey is so easy-going, it's not terribly stressful on her either once we arrive at our destination. Sometimes I have moments of loneliness when I travel alone, but with my sweet furry buddy, I never experienced that.

It wasn't until this trip that I realized how much she trusts me to keep her safe. She wouldn't venture outside unless I went with her. Then, she sat down next to me and waited until I walked over to the grass before she joined me.

She got to go outside and explore a new place for the first time. She got to watch her first squirrel without a window blocking all the smells. I like to think she enjoyed this opportunity to bond as much as I did.

I'm already planning and looking forward to our next girls' weekend together!

The Sub-3:30 Marathon

The Sub-3:30 Marathon. It's not just another PR, not just a number measuring hours and minutes. While it is obviously both of those things, it's so much more than that to me. Running a marathon in three hours and thirty minutes was that impossible dream that I knew I could never attain myself. That was reserved for fast people, one of whom I was not. To back up my statement, know that I had a pretty solid reputation of consistently being the caboose at all the RCN Winter Race Series runs that year. It never bothered me to come in last place because I was ecstatic that I was able to participate in a sport where they couldn't put me on the bench for being last.

Besides, it's not like anyone could figure out who I was anyways.

In terms of improvement, 2010 was my best running year. Between the marathon, half, and 5K, I dropped a total of ninety minutes from my PRs. I ran three marathons that year: Green Bay, Equinox, and Rails to Trails. During that time of consistent mileage and hilly trail runs, about the only thing I had to do was to finish a race in order to PR.

It was also the first time I broke eight minute mile pace in a race. Without any major competition in the shorter of two events, I also won the women's race at the Run Lulu Run 5K, cruising along on my neighborhood course at what was then a blistering pace of 7:45/mi. I remember being so proud of that day. Incredibly proud. I think that was the moment I began to wonder what my potential was as a runner.

Over the course of many runs that summer, Matt and I talked about our goals. Whether due to coincidence or matching training styles, we continued to improve incrementally. His half marathon PR has always been twenty minutes faster than mine, whether we compare 2010 or 2016. Our third marathon of the year, on a rail trail in Wisconsin, was our big goal race and the first marathon we planned to run individually. Matt's goal was to break 3:30 for the first time, mine was four hours.  I thought back to that 5K PR I had worked so hard to earn. Matt wanted to run an entire marathon at that pace? Wow! I'd be a running rock star if I could run a 3:30.

Obviously, I take training very seriously.

Somewhere during that time, the 3:30 goal became mine. My lifetime marathon goal. I know many people make Boston their lifetime goal, but I had this one before I realized what the Boston Marathon was and what time I'd have to run in order to get there. What I wanted was 3:30. If I could do that, I could quit running those darn marathons and move onto something more fun like aqua aerobics. (Don't tell me that dancing around in a pool with a water noodle isn't fun!)

Of course, in the process, I fell in love with the most unforgiving road racing distance and now that I've met that goal, I can't imagine stopping because of some arbitrary goal. All I know is that I accomplished something that 2010 Karen could only dream of doing. I wish I could go back to 2010 and run alongside her on her weekly four mile tempo run at an eight-minute pace and tell her that her impossible goal isn't so impossible after all. Would she believe me? I doubt it.

Seven years after making that goal, I ran my first sub-3:30 marathon. For as big a milestone as I had inflated this time to be, I'm a little sad that I didn't notice it happening until I crossed the finish line. Unlike my first Boston-Qualifying time, there were no tears. I'd chased this goal for so long, I was so surprised that I just stood there, speechless.

I still can't believe it.

On this course? After an undecided spring season? Really?


This race was supposed to be a consolation prize, something to cheer myself up after having to bail on training and running my first 50 miler.  I'd say it worked!

Avenue of the Giants Marathon Race Report

Glancing down at my watch, I notice I've got about an hour until the race starts and briefly consider taking a pre-race nap. For all of the reasons to run a hometown marathon, one never mentions that it's still possible to have a terrible night's sleep in one's own bed. In true Goldilocks fashion, I spent most of the night tossing the covers off, pulling them on, and changing pillows trying to get it just right. Approximately one hour after I fell asleep, the morning alarm was already buzzing.

The air is calm, quiet, and I hear nary a peep from the ruckus of the starting area less than a football field distance away. Since the one dream I managed to have the night before included me oversleeping and missing the start, I dismiss the idea of a nap and follow Rachel out from our super secret parking area nestled in a grove of magnificent redwood trees.

Low clouds and fog make for a chilly race start. Thankfully, we've timed our walk over well enough that there isn't time to get cold. Just as the first shiver pulses through my body, we're off.

One arm sleeve, cuz Left Arm is a whiner if it's 45F and I'm wearing a singlet.

Rachel and I have planned to race this together. She's hoping to better her time from CIM and I'm hoping for something around 3:35. Since I usually slow down quite a bit in the second half, I'm aiming for a pace around 8:05/mi. Even though it has been a few years since the last time I ran this marathon, my worst racing experience ever (because I gave up on myself, not because of time), the day's goal feels somewhat intimidating because I do not want that to happen to me again. When I shared this fear with Matt on Saturday night, his only response was "You're not the same runner you were in 2012."

As we climb the first hill, I steel myself for the difficulty of this segment. Split into four equal quarters, the marathon course is a double out-and-back. The first segment holds the majority of the climbing. Much to our surprise, Rachel and I are pleased by how different the climbing feels on tapered legs. During our training, we managed to cover both half marathon sections, but since we they were in the middle of our highest mileage weeks, an 8:45/mi pace was forced and terrible. Today, due to the magic of the taper, we were able to hold a much faster pace more easily. Yay!

Mile 3, photo taken on a training run on March 27.

Mile 1: 7:52
Mile 2: 8:10
Mile 3: 8:04

The miles pass easily as Rachel and I talk nonsense. Our long runs together are full of silliness and sarcasm and today's run feels just like that. It's lighthearted and fun and the pressure to race hard dissipates with each step. The course weaves in and out of spectacular stands of old growth redwood while we joke about how it's so ugly we should be running on a treadmill in the gym instead.

Mile 4, taken on 3/27.

No matter how many times I visit, this beautiful place never ceases to take my breath away. Rachel grew up with redwoods in her backyard and after twenty-eight years, it still does the same to her.

Mile 4: 8:13 (water)
Mile 5: 7:57
Mile 6: 8:09

Soon, the leaders begin passing us. We become distracted looking for our friends. We make a special point to wave to Adam and Caroline, two club runners who are making their marathon debut. Soon we round the turnaround cone ourselves.

Approaching the turn around, taken 3/27.

I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that the majority of the climbing is done for the day. The trip to the halfway point is mostly downhill. Since Rachel is following my lead, I tell her that my plan is to use these miles to rest rather than to make up time. Soon we're passed by a small crowd of people and we focus on pulling back and not sailing along with them.

Mile 7: 7:45 (water+Gu)
Mile 8: 7:46
Mile 9: 8:03 (water+salt)

Rachel and I pull up alongside a man from Seattle. We chat through the next few miles, talking about the scenery, complete sentences flowing with ease. Talking about the redwoods, Rachel and I beam with pride when we tell him that this place is our home. Ain't she perdy?

Mile 12, taken 3/27

Mile 10: 8:19 (waterx2+Gu)
Mile 11: 8:08

The steepest downhill is on mile 12. Just as I slowed a bit on this section as an uphill in mile two, I find myself slowing again in order to minimize the pounding. My competitive spirit flares a bit as another dozen runners pass me on the downhill. Patience, Karen. You'll get them later when their quads are fried.

Mile 12: 8:05
Mile 13: 8:01

Halfway: 1:46:04

A flurry of excitement greets us at the halfway point. Since this area is also the finish line for the race, extra people are gathered here to wait for the 10K finishers, and later on, all the half and marathoners. I feel a burst of energy from all the excitement, but as soon as we dash off into the next redwood grove, all is quiet. We pass Yoon, our club photographer, and once he realizes it's us, calls out for us to turn and smile. Since neither of us have very big goals for this race, we grab a cup of water at the aid station and turn around. The full stop is jarring to my legs, but we decide that a fun mid-race photo will be worth it.

Yup! Worth it! If you look closely, you can see that we're wearing the same shoes. #adorable Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

Mile 14: 8:03 (water+Gu)

It takes extra effort to get moving again and we vow not to stop completely until after we cross the finish line. Our conversation has quieted to short sentences and mostly discussions about whether we'll stop at the next water station.

Mile 15: 7:56
Mile 16: 8:04 (water+Gatorade+salt)

Until now, it sounds like Rachel and I are breathing equally as hard, but somewhere in the middle of mile 15, I can hear mine relax as I settle into the pace while Rachel's gets louder and raspier. I can tell she's fading. I slow just a little to see if she'll stay with me, but she slows even more. Since our plan had been to start together and split up if one of us is feeling better, I know that I'll need to leave her behind soon. I call out over my shoulder, but she's falling farther behind. Bummer.

Mile 17: 7:50
Mile 18: 7:50

The next few miles, I draw energy from all the half marathon runners making their return trip. As I spot a familiar face, I either call out their name or wave. It's like a built-in cheering section! The company is nice and as the half marathon pack starts to thin out and fade, I start noticing how hard some of those at the back of the pack are pushing. Suddenly I realize: I'm not pushing as hard as they are. I find an unexpected sense of comfort, strength, and inspiration by watching the tail end of the half marathon pack shuffle along. If they can do hard things, I can, too.

Mile 19: 7:52

Ever since my first running of this race, I've insisted that the second half of the marathon course (Avenue of the Giants side) is downhill both ways. Of course that's impossible, but the tall trees give that illusion and somehow it's grown to be one of my biggest mental tools on this race. As I approach the turn around, signaling only one quarter of the race to go, I tell myself it's downhill on the way back, which if we're being official based on how the river alongside the course is flowing, it really is an overall downhill back to the finish line from here.

No wall at mile 20! Taken on course marking day, 4/18.

Mile 20: 7:49 (waterx2)
Mile 21: 7:40
Mile 22: 7:57 (water+Gu+salt)

I painted most of the markers on the second half of the course. This was, by far, my prettiest. I made sure to admire my artwork on race day.

With each tiny uphill section, I can feel my effort level increase. I slow a little, reminding myself that I can push harder on the downhill if I'm feeling good. I've been having too much fun cheering and admiring the trees to notice my watch. I thought it might be possible to run the second half more quickly given that it's flatter, but I'm surprised to notice that these later miles are all sub-8, which has never happened to me before. By now, I realize I'm going to run a negative split, but I'm afraid I'll jinx myself if I calculate a possible finish time in my head. I've had too many mile 25 meltdowns to count my chickens before I can see that 26th mile marker. :)

Mile 23: 7:47

As the course dips in and out of the dense redwood canopy, I realize just how warm the day is becoming. Remembering back to my unnecessary squandering of time at CIM's mile 25 aid station, I take entirely too much time in my head considering the water stop at mile 24. Situated in the middle of the longest stretch of sunshine on the course, I decide that the stop is necessary while hoping I don't regret it later. The cool water on my lips is incredible and I make a quick turnaround to grab another.

Mile 24: 8:05 (waterx2)

It's a struggle to get my legs moving again as I ease myself into a running pace. Up ahead I spot Lanore, her long blond hair flowing softly behind her as she takes her race cooldown. I make it my goal to catch up to her and say hello.

Mile 25: 8:04

Within a mile, I'm running alongside her and I manage a quick hello before pulling away. She picks up her pace to stay with me, cheering so loudly that the sound bounces off the trees. "You're looking great! Go KareBear!! That's my girl!" It's just what I need to push my legs through the final hill, a bridge over the freeway. To my surprise, this hill doesn't hurt any worse than it does when I race the half marathon on it. I can feel my body beginning to seize up so I take one quick walk break. After about ten paces, I realize walking hurts more so I break back into a trot, keeping pace with the half marathoners.

The final hill. LOL, it looks so small, feel free to laugh. ;) Craig K, photo credit. Taken 4/3.

I crest the top of the bridge and glance down at the elapsed time on my watch. It reads 3:22. With exactly a mile to go on a gentle downhill, I try to calculate what that means. Ten minutes from now, you'll get a 3:32, just as you'd planned, I tell myself.

The course dips back into one final redwood section before the finish line. About one half mile to go, the downhill flattens out and I spot Brandon in the shadows. I see him glance down at his watch as I pass him. I can sense the excitement in his voice as he shouts out, "GO KAREN! You're going to PR, Karen! Run a PR, Karen!" He keeps shouting until I'm out of earshot, but that phrase keeps echoing in my head.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.

I pass by the 26 mile marker and push the lap button one final time, noticing my elapsed time is 3:27. I'm so surprised and excited that Brandon is right that I break into a sprint. I emerge from the shade into the full sun, passing another female marathoner en route.

Mile 26: 7:56

Atop the final bridge on the course, I can see the inflatable finish arch. It's so close! I pick up the pace even further, dash into the chute, weave through a cluster of half marathoners, and snag my new PR as the team of Wendys announce my name.

Mile 26-26.2: 1:35 (6:57/mi.) my fastest marathon kick ever!

This crazy cat lady approves of the t-shirt and medal animal for the year.

3:28:26
7:57/mi.
1,388 ft. gain.

3rd place woman? When I heard this, I thought someone made a mistake. Nope, I guess it's true.

A huge grin spreads across my face as Jason hands me my finisher medal and patch. I can't stop smiling! Matt rushes over from his place beside the chute and congratulates me. For as surprised as I am by my time, the expression on his face is "I told you so!" Given how badly I blew up in 2012, I never expected that this could be a PR course for me, let alone be home to my first negative split.

First Half: 1:46:04
Second Half: 1:42:22

Maybe I'll start believing Matt now. :) I quickly grab some water and then rush back onto the course looking for Rachel.

Made it Garmin-official today.

I catch up to her on the river bridge where she's running with Brandon. She has been struggling with cramps since mile 16, but still manages to knock ten minutes from her previous PR, finishing in 3:45. Awesome!

Rachel C. photo credit.

I love that we've been able to share training and racing miles together this spring. Once we stop walking like broken old ladies, I'll try to talk her into joining me for my summer racing plans. :)