2018- Plans, Plants, & Planks

It has been some time since I’ve posted an update to my blog, and since I am currently sitting at home on “break”, avoiding real work, disregarding my R and Python courses, and most importantly, ignoring the dogs crying for MORE attention (c’mon, we JUST ran 5 miles, leave me alone!), I figured I’d write a blog post.

PSA: No other sentences in this blog post will be as convoluted as that first sentence, I promise. It’s been a while. I’ve forgotten how to sentence.

Anyway, 2017 ended on December 31. In the period of time between my soul-crushing DNF and the end of the year, I finished the T-Dawg Redemption Race Series. This made-up series includes 2 races I signed up for drunk while still in Seattle lamenting whether or not I’d ever race again as well as the Chicago Marathon that I signed up for while suffering a serious case of FOMO anxiety.

Race 1 of the series is the TARC Fall Classic 50k, my 3^rd time at the event. 2 years ago it was my first ultra and I loved it so much I’ve returned every year. This year was just for fun, I saw some friends, made some friends (namely Shira “She Ra” C), and finished even though I felt like hungover garbage for the first 10 miles. Of course, it was my fault I was hungover but when Mike and Chris want to drink boatloads of beer and watch the X files until after midnight, I’m going to do it. Remember I suffer from FOMO? Speaking of FOMO, my post-race celebration was to go directly to Somerville for a brewery crawl that ended with a late night dance off at the Briar. Success #1!

Race 2 was 1 week after race 1, the Chicago Marathon. This was by far the biggest race I’ve ever participated in. I’ve never run a race that never thinned out at any point. The race itself was hot, like 75 degrees hot. I hated most of it, with the exception of the Mexican mile around 19. The best part of this race was the city and the people I went with. I had so much fun and got to know some of my club members much better! Chicago is an amazing place, I loved adventuring in the neighborhoods and learning about the history and architecture. I even got to see my old friend, Abe, and we immediately started chatting like it hadn’t been 6 years since we’ve seen each other! Success #2!

Race 3 was almost a month after race 2. I cared a bit about race 3, this was my real redemption race, the Stone Cat 50 miler in Ipswich, MA. I was worried that my IT band wouldn’t let me finish. I was worried I’d hate running. I don’t know, I was just worried. My new friend, Jen, from CCC was coming and I saw her during my first lap and we would end up leap frogging each other for the rest of the day. It made me so happy to see her and run with her for a while! The course is 4 laps. My lap 2 was hard, my ITB had some stabbing pains that caused me to buckle but I stuck it out. Ryan F, 2^nd place Infinitus 100 finisher and sub-24 hr VT100 finisher and all around amazing guy, came to pace me my final lap. I didn’t run as much as I hoped to, but with great conversation, the lap flew by. I remember us passing some girl who commented how weird it was that we ran by that far in the race having a serious discussion about the criminal justice system in America. That was probably weird! I finished not too far off my 50M PR and with success #3, I could stop training and just enjoy the rest of the year.

Plans- I’ve got some.

I have some goals for 2018, including a sprinkling of goal races, non-goal races, and other milestones to hit. My goals in no particularly order:

1. IMTUF 100, get the buckle and stay healthy.
2. Finger Lakes 50M
3. An August or late July 100k (to be determined by where I am living this summer)
4. Finish my “48 peaks” finally, by capping Owl’s Head and Cabot.
5. Providence Road Marathon
6. Philadelphia Road Marathon (for funsies)
7. Traprock 50k (for funsies)

Plants- Eat more of them.

No, not going vegetarian, not going vegan. I am just making a dedicated effort to simplify my eating habits into base ingredients, namely as many plants as possible. I still want to eat meat (not factory farmed) and fish (can I even live without sardines? I don’t think so.) I don’t think I want to live a life without eggs and ice cream and cheese. However, I will be shifting my diet to be much simpler, really abandoning highly processed foods and relying on things that come from the earth (or animals that eat things that come from the earth). Of course, I might eat some Cheetos from time to time but I’m only human.

Planks- the abs kind, not the pirate kind.

Strength training is so important. I’ve never wholly neglected it but I haven’t had a true regiment for it before either. This year, with the help of my boxing gym, I will be actively cross training and working on strength as a base and supplement to endurance. I will work with kettlebells and body weight exercises for full body work, but I want to really tone in on core. Core strength improves balance and helps prevent injury. Planks are going to be my focus because I am god awful at them and hate them so much. My preferred abs workout involves a billion types of crunches, because I can’t plank to save my life. Time to improve! Who knows? There may be an occasion where I will need to plank to save my life!

Planking to save your life!

 

So I’ll see you jerks in 2018!

Trash dog & T-dawg

Put it behind me, my DNF at the Cascade Crest 100

I’m not really sure what to write about this experience. I’ve tried a few times now to write up a proper blog post and fell short, much like I fell short in my race.

I’ll just say a few things.

1. Forest fires are awful. These fires impacted my course for my race with last minute changes that dramatically changes the race. Huge, huge, huge credit to the race director, Rich White, for handling this so gracefully and fluently. It speaks volumes to the organization of the race team that they were able to make this change the day before the race while keeping everyone safe and updated. Thank you for all your hard work. The fires are now, nearly 2 weeks later, raging all over the state of Washington as well as some sensitive areas in Oregon in the Columbia River Gorge. It’s believed these intense and terrible fires are manmade. It breaks my heart to see footage and hear about ash coverage in Seattle from these fires. I love the region and there are few trails as beautiful as those in the world. Please consider helping out in efforts to contain and fight the fire and prevent losing these important sections of protected wilderness.

http://www.methowconservancy.org/fire.html?fref=gc&dti=218926370297

https://gorgefriends.org/?fref=gc&dti=218926370297

https://www.gofundme.com/pnwowgivesbackor

http://koin.com/2017/09/04/eagle-creek-fire-expected-to-grow/

2. I fucked up my IT band early and I did the wrong thing to fix it. It started hurting at mile 10, the first downhill. Instead of stopping and stretching/massaging it immediately, I changed my gait for a while. This only led to hip pain. I also refused to admit this to my crew man at mile 22, so I couldn’t get real advice. I thought if I didn’t admit it, it wouldn’t be real. That is a fallacy and I should’ve known better. At mile 25, it hurt too badly to run the downs that I was being passed and I decided to take 2 Aleve. This led to me running pain free, but exacerbating my injury. When the pain meds wore off at mile 42, I had 10 awful downhill miles into the aid station where I would eventually drop. My inexperience misguided me but I think I learned a lesson.
3. Thursday before the race, I woke up with ankle pain that was unbearable. I mean, I couldn’t put weight on my ankle, hobbled down the stairs. I did nothing to this ankle. It hurt like I couldn’t walk. I went to bed Thursday evening with a suspicion it was psychosomatic. I woke up Friday morning completely healed. This race literally made me insane.
4. Something that I found funny was that at the beginning of the race, I told Jeremy that I would try to see him at the first crew spot (mile 22) in ~6 hrs. I got to him in EXACTLY 6 hrs. I can’t make it to work or class on time but when I tell a dude I’ll meet him 22 miles away in 6hrs, I nail it!
5. I was able to make some friends! I’m grateful for the opportunity to speak with other New England based (or past NH dwelling) runners who knew many of the same races and TARC family that I am getting to know. They may have even talked me into running a 50 miler in November with some of them. If there is one thing that the ultra community never fails to deliver, it’s just that. Community. (Hi Jen and Garry!)
6. I knew 1 other racer competing in this race. His name is Lindsay Hamoudi and he ended up winning the race in a spectacular fashion. He spent most of the race roughly ~30 to 60 min behind the leader. In fact, at mile 98 (out of 102), he was still in 2^nd place. He put on a clinic in pacing and nutrition and slowly narrowed the gap for the whole second half of the race. During the final 4 miles, he overtook the lead and ended up winning by 3 minutes. It’s the people like this who inspire me and make me want to be a better ultrarunner. I’m glad I got to see Lindsay in the beginning on the night, while I was struggling with IT pain at mile 43 and he was finding his cruise control, silly and sweet at mile 58. Congrats on an amazing finish, dude!

Some people keep their race medals and bibs of their triumphs. I almost never do this. I donate my medals and toss my bibs. I have only kept a few unique awards—my first 100k finish at Bigfoot, my 1^st place female award from Frigus, etc. I think I’ll keep my bib from this race. I want to remind myself that I should strive for more and maybe one day I’ll try to get this monkey off my back and finish a mountain 100 miler.

How am I feeling? Disappointed. My body failed me this time, but my mind and my motivation did not. I didn’t give up until I had to. I wanted to continue and faced my lows with courage and tempered my highs with experience. I’m not done dancing with the 100-mile devil, but I do need to relax and work on some physical therapy and strength training for my body. I’m grateful for my friends and family who supported me. Hearing from people how what I was able to accomplish is still incredible really sucks (sorry!) but I know it comes from a place of support and positivity. I wouldn’t have attempted a 100 miler if I didn’t think I could finish it. I didn’t cross the start line just to go halfway. I don’t want to appear ungrateful, but it is hard to really understand why hearing statements like “that’s so far! I could never run that” or “you should still be proud for even trying” only make me feel angry and upset at myself. I won’t try to explain it, but speaking to my ultra running friends who have had to DNF a long goal race has really helped. A DNF is not incurable. It is just part of the story.

I’ll be back, but when I’m ready.

First climb up Goat Peak

Hazy from fog and smoke. I was left breathless from this course in multiple ways.

Happy. I was very happy for a long part of this race. Even through pain, I was always exactly where I wanted to be. Coming into this AS (Mile 22) I tripped and fell, right in front of everyone. When it happened, 6 handsome trail runner men ran over to help me up. If I knew that would happen, I’d have fallen at every aid station!

At check in. Maybe I’ll be back one day to run through this as a finish line.

I am forever grateful to one of my best friends, Jeremy. He was an outstanding and selfless crew for me and seeing a friendly face during the hard times, in the night or in tough pain made a whole world of difference for me, moreso that I can describe. I hope one day I can repay the favor and crew him on a long ultra adventure!

How my summer training in New England prepared me to finish 2016’s Bigfoot 100k/110k on the west coast

It’s been almost a week after I crossed the finish line of the Bigfoot 100k last Sunday at 8:51am PST. I can’t say that life has gone back to normal, business as usual, back on the grind anymore. I felt that way after my first marathon, ultra, and 50m. Something about the experience out around Mt. St. Helens is different, was different, was unique.

I talk all the time about how anyone can finish an ultra and I really believe that. I like to think I’ve proven that as well, convincing many of my friends to try their hands at a 50k or 50 mile race. Of course, not all ultras are created equal. There are tame loop courses on mild trails, technical trails, groomed trails. There are safe courses where you can’t get lost. There are races that have some rolling hills or some short steep sections, but are overall flat. There are races that are well supported with plenty of aid throughout the race. There are races where any bad weather can only slow you down so much, or put you in minimal danger.

Then there are races like Bigfoot, races that are not for the faint of heart. This race, advertised as a 100k, but truly closer to 110k (68.8 official miles), is a point-to-point trail race on 99% singletrack around Mt. St. Helens. The race involves nearly 15,000ft of elevation gain and nearly 16,000ft of descent. There are only 5 aid stations, on average 13 miles apart. The longest leg of the 100k is 17 miles straight. Most of the race is exposed to the element on mountains trails. There is little cover to hide.

While the Bigfoot 200 is known for being one of the only non-repetitive 200-mile ultras in the nation, the race director, Candice Burt, started having 2 “short” versions last year in 2015– a 120 miler and a 100k. Last year, the 100k race had only 13 finishers and most DNF’d due to intense storms and downright dangerous conditions. As a result, this year there was a mandatory gear list to make sure you were safe. This list included:

1. Map with entire course on it.
2. Headlamp with extra batteries.
3. Fully waterproof rain jacket.
4. Wool or microfiber long sleeve shirt.
5. Lightweight synthetic down jacket.
6. Water purification method.
7. Extra calories.
8. Some form of pants.
9. Hat and gloves
10. All clothing items that are not waterproof must be in ziplock bags.

What are the chances that the weather could be bad 2 years in a row? Right?

Why sign up

In December of 2015, my trailmate and best friend Ryan sent me a link to Bigfoot. I read the description, I looked at the beautiful sunny photos on ultrasignup.com of Spirit Lake and Mt. St. Helens, and within 5 minutes I decided I was going to sign up when registration opened. The race wasn’t for nearly another year; I had all summer to prepare myself. I wanted to challenge myself and find a reason to explore the PNW. This race was perfect.

I signed up Jan. 1 when it opened and whimsically put the link on my facebook page, almost daring anyone to sign up with me. When you are friends with as many weirdos as I am, there’s sure to be one other daredevil in the mix who is susceptible to whim. That lucky friend this time around was Heather! She told me she signed up, too and since she was coming back from a long running hiatus following her Rocky Raccoon 100 mile finish, she kept this sign up on the DL. Awesome! I was immediately stoked that I would know at least 1 other person going to share the adventure.

While I’ve done a number of other races in 2016—this was always my goal race. Everything I did was in prep to conquer this race. With that in mind, let me talk about how my summer adequately prepared me for MOST of what I encountered at the Bigfoot 100k.

1. Pinelands 50m—prepared me with distance. As only my second 50 mile distance, the Memorial Day Pinelands 50 was a good test for distance for me. While the race itself was boring, I would need to be able to move the distance. This race was the start to a number of summer adventures that helped me.

2. Rainy/cold Vermont weekend. We may have only done 22 miles over 2 days, but it was windy and rainy and cold. That type of weather was a shadow of what Bigfoot was, but it’s always good to get experience around 4000ft. up in those elements.

3. Big weekends in the White Mountains. There are 2 specifically that I am thinking of. These mountains are hard, unforgiving, and don’t know the definition of the word “switchback”. Weekend 1 was 3 days: Mt. Washington Road Race, Zealand Mountain, and then Kinsmans & Cannon. Weekend 2 was also 3 days: Tripyramids, Hancocks, and Presidential Traverse. Time above treeline in the whites, especially during the Presi were helpful because the ‘boulder field’ on Mt. St. Helens was nothing more than what my beloved rockpile Mt. Washington trails are like! Both weekends were filled with lots of elevation gain and descent practice, lots of time on my feet, and lots of time with Ryan! (Okay time with Ryan wasn’t exactly prep, but it made prep more fun.)

4. Pacing Lauren during the Vermont 100. Oh man, we thought that night was bad? It was great prep for what I encountered in Bigfoot. I joined Lauren for 30 miles, from 11:00pm-8:30am through 3 MASSIVE thunderstorms. That was great experience running overnight and through the rain. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was exactly the experience I would need at Bigfoot.
5. The Pemi Loop(s). The Pemi Loop is considered one of the ultimate tests in the White Mountains. I already wrote about the first time I finished it. What I didn’t write about was that I did it AGAIN about a month later with Dani (and Cayenne). The second time, we added another mile and another mountain- West Bond (#43). This gave me great time on my feet, distance, and elevation change training. Plus, those trails are far more rugged and steep than anything I’d encounter in Bigfoot.

6. My August of cross training. I didn’t write about this but after my first Pemi loop (and with the culmination of my July activities), I ended up with 2 small tears in both my calf muscles in my left leg. I’ll get to how I fixed that later, but in the meantime, I took 4 full weeks off from running and I didn’t let that ruin my training. I worked on my balance, training the small muscles in my feet. I swam a bit, nothing less than a mile at a time. Most importantly, I put in a lot of hours on my Trek road bike both in Boston and during some time in NJ. I biked 30-40 mile rides regularly and was able to find some hills. I probably would not have cross trained as effectively if I could run/hike during this time so perhaps it was a blessing.

So how did all of these things help me? Efficiently and effectively. Almost all the elements were present in my training that I would need during my race (except for some pretty unique challenges).

Race weekend

So Heather decided to try her luck at the 120 mile distance, which meant that her race started Friday, almost 15 hours before my race. We met up Thursday in Portland, OR and I broke my 3-week sober pre-race streak with a delicious Oktoberfest, Blonde, and Hazelnut Porter from Alameda Brewing near our hotel. We both went to sleep early and slept nearly 12 hours, which was great. When we woke up Friday, we grabbed coffee, breakfast, and then were off to Marble Mountain Sno-Park to check in and get Heather on her way. It was a beautiful drive and after checking in, we drove around some to try to find Mt. St. Helens.

Well we found it.

I yelled and nearly crashed the car when I saw it appear. What a sight! It was one of the few sights of the mountain that I’d get that whole weekend unfortunately.

After we had the pre-race meeting, I got Heather mentally ready and sent her onto her bus, which would drive her to the start of her race. I drove back an hour out to the nearest town to get some sleep.

Race Day

I had no trouble whatsoever waking up and getting myself to the car. I was so excited, so ready to start. I wasn’t even nervous. I just knew that I was going to enjoy this and that I was ready.

Well, no matter how ready I was, I couldn’t start until we got to the starting line. All the 100k racers hopped on school busses for a 90 min drive to the official start at Elks Pass. I was on the third bus. After ~60min of driving, we hear over the radio “Hey I think we’re lost.” Turns out the busses missed a turn in the fog and were stuck on a narrow logging road going up a steep hill. 45 minutes later, the busses each had to navigate a tight 3 point turn. Our bus driver was beside herself, announcing how she hasn’t been doing this long and was nervous which naturally made me scared. During the turn, the bus was tilted back, going uphill and it stalled while trying to drive forward for a second. I was never more awake than I was in that minute.

Eventually we made it to the start a bit late. There would be a 45 min delay in start, pushing the official start back to 7:45am. Before we started, I had to pee. I ran off behind some trees and some other racers had the same idea. While crouching to pee among some foggy tall pines, I put my hand down in the soil for balance. After I had my stream going, I felt something wrap around my fingers and along my hand. I am practically gagging just remembering this… I looked down and saw a HUGE earthworm giving me a good luck hug. I immediately started gagging and threw up my banana and granola bar breakfast. I was also still peeing and trying to get the worm off. The result was hilarious: I peed on my leg/shoe, threw up on my shorts, lost my precious calories from breakfast, and fell over hopefully missing most of the carnage. Maybe 3 people saw me and asked if I were okay, to which the answer was obviously NO but I said I was and prepped myself to start. It was such an eventful pre-race!

Elks Pass to Norway- 10 miles. +2288’/-2691’

Most of this section was really enjoyable. The trails are nothing like the east coast trails! I barely saw a root or rock and there was nothing to trip over or roll an ankle on! There were plenty of puddles but the weather wasn’t so bad to start. It was foggy and drizzly here and there. If this weather held, I would be in heaven!– spoilers: the weather doesn’t hold.

The major event of this leg was around mile 4, when I was wedged in a group of men running and at the same time 3 out of the 7 of us yelled! Someone must have disrupted a wasp nest on the ground and they were out for runner revenge. I was stung on my calf. I have never been stung by a wasp before and that sucker hurt. It made me run fast to get out of there. I can’t believe there were wasps that high up! I learned later that they were stinging everyone who passed for hours.

This section was beautiful, with tall coniferous trees and views of the mountains we would climb next. It was a great warm up. I ran some of this section with various groups, but importantly, this was where I first met Dan—a PNW local who I would end up spending most of the race with.

Norway to Coldwater Lake- 17 miles. +3682’/-4834’

This section starts with a long, long climb up Mt. Margaret that provided wonderful views of Spirit Lake. After a long climb over the pass, you descend forever down to run along Coldwater lake into the aid station. The weather was still pretty great for most of this leg; I even stripped down to just my Janji singlet for some of this section.

This section was breathtaking and also mostly runnable. I hiked the big climb for the most part. I did not want to run out of energy, not knowing how I would fair once I entered new distance territory. During this section, I met Dan’s friends Jason and Kerstin. I would spend a large amount of time running with them as well!

Spirit Lake

 

 

 

 

 

 

The calf was swelling and red and oozy from my wasp sting. When I got into the aid station at Coldwater Lake, I wasn’t sure what was going on. I told some of the volunteers or crew for other runner what had happened and one person asked me if I was allergic to stings and if I had an epipen. I found this hilarious and just started laughing, which probably came off as rude. My dream of using an epipen mid race almost came true! Alas, I took a Benedryl instead and while that reduced my allergic reaction, it made me super tired. Oh well, no time like the present to fight drugged fire with drugged fire—I chugged some coffee. I felt good, I felt ready to continue. I was only 30 miles in.

Jason and Dan up in front of Kerstin

I cannot get over this photo.

Genuine smile, I LOVED this course

Janji singlet makes a brief appearance! Runjanji.com

At this Aid Station, I refilled water, ate half a veggie burger, and from my drop bag I switched my buff. Out I went for the next short section climb!

Coldwater Lake to Johnston Ridge- 6.6 miles. +2287’/-612’

 

The only view of Mt. St. Helens until we were on her!

This section was mostly a hike for me. I spent much of it alone, just trying to take in the view. We climbed up a large, cliffy pass that had a breathtaking open view of Mt. St. Helens and I couldn’t stop grinning ear to ear. I was so happy to be in this amazing place, in the rain even, just enjoying the challenge.

I got to the top with another woman named Kelly whom I was chatting with a bit. She worked in child research in Seattle as well—studying a slightly different domain. Such a small world!

At this aid station, I sat near the heater for a bit. I was 36 miles completed, just over halfway. The easy half was done, the hard stuff was coming. It was windy and getting cold. It was raining a bit, but nothing too serious. I was still carrying all my gear and wearing only shorts. I wasn’t cold… yet. I had some soda and a grilled cheese and some soup. Then I was out.

My only heat source for a while, and my last photo of the race

Johnston Ridge to Windy Pass- 6.7 miles. +1189’/-1244’

It was cold and rainy and getting dark. My iPhone doesn’t have a case so I put it in 2 ziplocks and shoved it deep in my pack. It would not come out for the remainder of the race.

It was starting to get dark. Headlamps came out and this is when much of our group solidified. I met another runner named Kevin from Idaho, Jason and Dan, and myself were to spend most of the rest of the race together. Together we hiked and chatted for most of this section, getting to know our stories and experiences and sharing what knowledge (or lack thereof) we had about the race. The time seemed to fly by with them by my side! We heard elk in the distance, caught headlamps maneuvering on ridge lines far away, and started to settle into a slower moving rhythm.

Windy pass aid station was a saint in the night. It was a couple of tents and there were a bunch of runners there when we arrived. Upon our arrival, the rain began to fall. I mean it started RAINING. It was raining a little for the first half of the race, but now it would downpour and continue to do so until well after I finish the race many, many hours later.

At this point, I could feel blisters forming on my heels. I had someone put some moleskin on it, but with the rain, I wasn’t confident that they would last. Oh well—nothing much I could do. I took some Advil and talked my team into heading back out into the rain.

Windy Pass to Blue Lake- 14 miles. +2818’/-3732

Okay. I was feeling really, really good at the start of this section. I was encouraged! Only a marathon left to go! There would be no views, no reason to stop. I had energy and felt like I could move faster than the group. I considered splitting and trying my luck on my own, but am glad I changed my mind to stay with people. This section ended up being incredibly dangerous and slow.

This section runs alongside and around Mt. St. Helens in the blast zone. There were no trees, very little scrub, and just ash. Slippery, ashy trails. There were lots of water crossings now as well, lava made streams carved into the mountain.

The trails were narrow, singletrack. If you slipped on one end you could fall and without trees or rocks to grab, you could really fall. At one point I slipped and at another Dan slipped. We both caught ourselves, but then we directed our headlamps down into the abyss only to see just that. We would’ve been pretty much screwed. I slowed down, I couldn’t run, paralyzed with fear.

It was during this stretch that the fun ended. I put on my rain jacket and my hiking pants over my shorts. I remember being ~ 5 miles into this section and thinking this exact thought: “Hey. I don’t want to play anymore. I am freezing. My gloves are soaked. My shoes and pants are soaked. I’m tired. I don’t want to play for another 8 hours. I’ll just stop.”

This thought was so profound to me at the moment. This wasn’t your dad’s first road marathon. This was a rugged, remote, dangerous, survive it trail ultramarathon. You can’t just stop and have a volunteer save you. You are on your own. Survival kicked in, I stopped thinking any thoughts at all and just marched. This section was long, but I kept marching.

I didn’t even think twice about water crossings, even the Toutle river. I just waded through—it didn’t matter, I was already soaked. There were 3 rope sections, where the trail was steep enough to require a rope. The first was a descent and I’ll give it to the trail—the rope was helpful. The next 2 rope sections were ascending after the river crossing and this was the section where I started to get my good attitude back. I saw the “Steep: need rope” section and laughed. This was NOTHING compared to what our White Mountain trails were like! I easily hopped up this 100 ft climb hand-over-hand while others waited in line to use the rope. East coast trails are not trivial, they are rougher and more rugged than most of this course (until the boulder field). We then climbed and descended for another hour or so until we came FINALLY into the Blue Lake aid station, a place I was starting to doubt even existed.

At Blue Lake, I was feeling hypothermic pretty bad. I was completely soaked. I got out all my layers, changed my base shirt and buff, batteries in my headlamp, and put on my down jacket under my rain jacket. I hung out near the lamp trying to dry my pants, but really, what was the point? It was still pouring outside. I didn’t even bother changing my socks because they would not stay dry over a minute. I hung out here and ate some more soup, re-stocked my gels and rested for a very long time. Kevin told me that this was his first 100k and longest run ever also. He seemed happy to have made it the 57 miles already and was unsure how the last bit would go. I told him we were going to make it. Dan left a bit before us with a pacer. Jason picked up a pacer named Angela who ended up guiding our group out. I am forever grateful to have someone cheerful to guide us and making sure we were making all the right turns. One more leg and then it’s over!

Blue Lake to Finish at Marble Mountain- 12 miles. +2614’/-3172’

This section starts with a long climb up into the boulder field, then you navigate across the boulder field, and then make the final descent.

The climb was brutal. My blisters on my heels were agonizing. At least I was able to warm up some while climbing. I kept my head down and tried to stay with Angela. She helped keep us moving at a great pace. We were over to pass a few people and get to the boulder field in good time.

The boulder field was nearly identical to what the Presidential Traverse above treeline looks like. I was VERY familiar with those types of trails and felt right at home, while almost everyone else was in a panic. The difficulty in this section was navigating the trail. There were no cairns and we were reliant on the sparsely used reflective race markers. We went off course a few times and Angela, bless her soul, offered to do most of the dirty work in finding the correct way. Once we found it, we were able to navigate through most of it. Then the sun started to rise. It was still pouring but the sun was coming up. We would live!

Or maybe not. The boulder field was very exposed and windy and we were done climbing and doing a lot of slow moving or standing. This did not help my hypothermia. I was getting very cold, and my hands were quite numb. I tried to keep them in my pockets as much as possible but the boulder field often required hand support. After we made it through most of the boulders, the others were much slower moving through it. I made an executive decision at that point that I could find the trail on my own at this point and would need to run in order to stay alive. I needed to get warmer and running was the best way.

The sun was up, the rain was still pouring, I had 4 more downhill miles to go. I had plenty of energy left, my muscles felt surprisingly fine. My only bodily pain was blisters on my heels. I ran those last 4 miles fast. Passing a few people on my way out!

I finished in an official 25:06:52. 41^st finisher. I immediately saw Heather, who did not have her ideal race, but I was glad to see her feeling better.

Post Race

So I did it. I finished my goal race and all the associated challenges of that particular race. I met some incredible people, some inspiring 120 milers, and saw some terrain that left me breathless. I did the first 50 miles in 15 hours, and the last dark 19 miles in 10. Could I have finished faster? Yes. I didn’t leave it all out there, and that’s fine! I wanted to finish alive, and now I am even hungrier to perform better, to run more!

It’s not nearly a week after my race and my body feeling both awesome and awful. My muscles and blisters are fine! I use healing Band-Aids on my blisters and they are good to go in 2 days. My legs felt fine, I sustained no injuries. My shoulders and back are sore, and that in exacerbated by my cough but I was able to run twice this week. I am suffering from a really awful cold that I’m sure I acquired during that rainy wet cold night. It’s better now, but I was stuck in bed.

I am still buzzing from the experience. I walk around knowing that what I went through isn’t a common experience. Sure.. “everyone can run an ultra” but I would not say that everyone could finish that Bigfoot race. I know that this race has changed me, changed my perspective on what is possible and what I am capable of. I didn’t even seriously think about dropping at any point (other than in the middle of that one section where I couldn’t actually drop, thankfully)! I am hungry for more and know that I am capable of running longer distances and maybe more mountain ultra races. I’ve shattered my glass ceiling this year.

This week I’ve forced myself to never drop from challenges. No giving up because something is hard, or you are stressed, or sick, or tired. Case-in-point, I have a manuscript submission deadline approaching tomorrow that I have been scrambling to throw together a submission. While working with my co-authors on getting it ready, I could easily say “we can miss this deadline and just submit it some other place” which is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. However, yesterday when my advisor came in and asked me “Do you think it’ll be ready to submit Saturday?” I sat quietly, looked around, and said “yes!” because even if it isn’t, I’m sure as shit going to try to get it ready. (It’s not quite ready right now, but I still have all of tomorrow to get it done before the clock runs out! No DNFs.)

People to thank, important people!

First, I HAVE to thank Boston University Physical Therapy, specifically my PT Roni Mielke. She worked with me 2x a week to fix my calf muscle that I tore 8 weeks pre-race. At that point, I thought it was pointless. I would miss prime training time because of this and then would have to build back strength. Roni thought otherwise and she worked me hard and gave me homework that I did diligently. After 3 weeks, I was able to walk around painfree, even on hills! She gave me a green light to try “some easy running and hiking”… which was when I went for my 2^nd Pemi Loop (it counts as some hiking, right??) and when I was able to do that pain free, I knew I was in the clear! If you are suffering injury and want to work on it, get a script and go see BUPT.

Roni and I with my “graduation” shirt!

And Roni, who is from Washington state, was actually getting married in WA the same day as my race! I briefly joked that if she didn’t fix me before my race, I already had a plane ticket and would just go to her wedding. Perhaps that was a little extra motivation for her to get me back to tip top shape.

Secondly, I want to thank my sports masseuse– Anna (Manna Massage). Anna is a magician with her massages and she’s great to talk to and will try to give you preventative advice. I’ve been going to her for about a year now and I recommend her to my running friends and will plug for her now. Go see her if you’re in Boston, especially near Brighton! She’s right near the Chestnut Hill Res.

Third, I want to thank Ruby and Jenna—my roommates who are not only really tolerant of my freaking out about everything, but also took care of Sky while I was away.

This photo is indicative of my roommates, I think

Last but not least, I really want to thank Heather. Heather and I were never very close when I lived in NJ but that’s not because I didn’t always want to run with her! She is an inspirational runner and person, compassionate in her job (a veterinarian), intellectual and well read leader of our book club, philosophical and hungry to take classes, interested in learning new languages, and she doesn’t give up on anything. Heather went to attempt a freaking 120 mile mountain race in the storm. She had to drop 75 miles in after wandering around with upset stomach and unable to eat or drink for 20 miles. She made the right choice to stop and live another day and while she might not believe that the DNF was okay right away, I hope she will soon. It is no way an indicator of failure, it’s just an indicator that she’s as smart as she looks. I’ll take the lessons I’ve learned from watching Heather tackle races like Manitou’s, Whiteface, and Breakneck Point and try to carry myself with the poise that she has.

 

So here I am, up around 11:30pm on the Friday night following my race. What’s next? I don’t know. I have Ghost Train next weekend and TARCkey Trot in November still this year. But similar to how I aimed high for Bigfoot more than 10 months before race day and how everything I did in 2016 was leading up to it—I think Ghost Train and TARCkey Trot will be prep races. I want something bigger and now that I’ve finished my 100k, I am ready to go for it. I just have to register first, but I’m going to run the Vermont 100 mile endurance race next summer.

EXTRAS: Want to see more cool photos? Photographer Howie Stern did an amazing job shooting the race, with a few shots of me! Check out his page here! His photos tell the real story, and also capture the real rain that we had!  I recommend checking his photos out even for just inspiration!

To pace per chance to dream (no sleep involved): Vermont 100 Pace Report

Some months ago I decided that I wanted to be a pacer. I wanted to test myself as a companion runner, see what the final 30 miles of the VT 100 course looked like, and see what a runner that far into the race was feeling. I finally thought I was fit enough to pace someone for 30 miles, giving them my energy and concern and not worrying about myself. I thought about the Vermont 100, I was going to go to it anyway, either to crew, pace, or volunteer in some capacity.

After taking mental inventory of everyone I knew pacing VT 100, I decided there were people I could and could not pace. Some people I knew running were just too fast for me to be useful. Some were too slow for me to want to walk so far. Some were people I don’t really like. I thought about one runner who I admire a lot as a person and especially as a competitor and when I realized she was running, I immediately begged her to let me pace her. I’m talking about Lauren, RunsWithMacy! Lauren is an ultrarunner from NJ who I ran briefly with as a member of RVRR. She has completed the 100 mile distance once before at Rocky Raccoon. She is a smart, sassy, honest and strong person, who I think I can identify with. After asking, she didn’t give me immediate gratification, but had other strong RVRR women who expressed interest in pacing as well. I told her I was healthy and happy to pace the whole 30 miles and if she could let me know at some point, I’d appreciate it. As backup, I contacted the race to see if they could pair me with a racer who was looking for a pacer.

A few weeks later, early June maybe, I got an email from the race asking if I’d like to pair up with a racer. At this point, I reached back to Lauren for confirmation. Within a few hours I had my gratification—I would be pacing Lauren! Awesome.

Fast forward to race weekend. The 100 mile racers start at 4am Saturday morning, the 100k racers were to start at 9am. Many friends from Massachusetts and NJ were racing one of the races, and others were up to watch and crew or volunteer time at aid stations. Hannah again was captaining Keating’s and would bring Dani along, Jayson and Alli would be at 10 Bear along with everyone from TARC, tons of RVRR caravans were arriving. Ryan decided last minute to give it a try, too!

I hung around at the start/finish (Silver Hill) before the pre-race meeting to hang with Ryan and catch up with Lauren for a bit. After the dinner, I headed away towards Springfield, VT where Lauren and Kyle had rented an apartment for the weekend. It would be a full house. Turns out Dave, John, Joel, and Anne were also crashing there! Friday evening turned into a late one as I hung out drinking beers and catching up until nearly 2am, without falling asleep until after Lauren got up and left for the start. Sleeping on the couch meant I was in the way of apartment traffic for the most part. Overall, I think I cranked out 3 good hours of sleep that night. I wasn’t too worried for a number of reasons:

1. I was excited, and that is enough to keep me awake
2. I could nap later at 10 Bear before Lauren comes in
3. I banked some good sleep earlier in the week

So Anne, Joel, and Kyle were off to find Lauren earlier in the day, while John, Dave, and I slept in and tried to eat breakfast. John was in Vermont, unknowing about the race. He was under the impression that everyone was just hanging around for the weekend and that sounded like fun to him so here he is! While that is hilarious, it’s still awesome because John is great, and I learned that he and Giselle are moving to Newton center ~ 2 mile from me! Dave was up because he was pacing a racer he knows from somewhere and thought he was going to be on his own all day, and yet we 3 had each other.

Neely (Miss Vermont) has some weird pre-race rituals…

We went to Hartland Diner for breakfast. This would be the last part of my weekend with cell service and thankfully we dragged our feet for breakfast because while awaiting my eggs bene, I got a couple of missed calls from a number with a SoJerz area code. They left a voice mail that was along the lines of “Hey, Do you have a dog named Sky? We found her and she’s safe. We’re in Cambridge, give us a call back and we can get her to you.” I heard this voice mail and bolted out of the diner to try to deal with this. My advisor was pet sitting for me for the first time, and I realized that I didn’t have his cell phone. I tried to call a few people I thought might have it and they didn’t respond, I played 6 degrees of Dr. Blake and eventually got his phone number through another professor, who was now invested in the story. I tried to call him and he didn’t answer, so now my mind raced to “great, Peter is dead. He was walking Sky and got mugged and she ran away and he’s dead and I should call 9-1-1.” I then attempted to find local friends who could go pick Sky up from her new friends but that was proving hard also. One of my roommates was the first responder and could go after breakfast.

In the meantime, I’m sitting outside while John and Dave are eating inside and I’m hungry and worried. I keep texting the SoJerz Savers thanking them and apologizing for taking so long, and they asked if it’s okay if they buy Sky treats. I said yes but please don’t feel obligated. She then sends me a photo of Sky with the caption “We bought her a margarita toy so she can be on vacation, too.”

Peter finally responds—he’s not dead! Then all is taken care of. I thought about telling the Savers to just let Sky out and see if she goes back to where she came from. Turns out she just walked away from Meighan for a second, and found people walking around and went up to them. This dog. Anyway, with that taken care of, I ate up heartily and then we went to Silver Hill, dropped John’s and Dave’s cars, grabbed Ryan’s unused Crew Pass and went off to 10 Bear, where I would stay for 10 hours!

10 Bear was great, it serves at the only double aid station of the race, where 100 miles and 100k racers hit it twice. 100 milers come in at mile 47 and again at 69. My first thought was to hang here, see Lauren, and then maybe eventually go out and eat a dinner. But since we knew so many people who were so spread out, I ended up staying forever.

First I saw Ryan come through mile 47, he looked awesome and felt awesome. Then Lauren. Then Gene for 100k. Then I went off and took a brief car nap. Then I scared myself by thinking I locked my keys in my car—which I technically did but luckily had a window open, the flood of relief when I realized my window was open nearly brought tears to my eyes. Anyway, it was getting late. I had subsisted most of the day on pickle flavored potato chips and fruit snacks. My stomach was complaining, as it should. Kyle had told me he had burgers and hotdogs that he was going to make for dinner for us, but where was Kyle? I was hanging around in the dark with Tom and Jayson, also waiting to pace, just thinking about how hungry I was. Then Ryan came through! He made it to mile 69! He wasn’t looking quite as great, he had ankle pain in both ankles and needed to see medical for a bit. He got on his way. Then Kyle, wonderful Kyle appears! I scarf 2 cheeseburgers and a hotdog like a fat kid and immediately feel better.

Around 10:45pm Lauren comes into 10 Bear for the second time. She looks fantastic. She is moving well, her IT band issues are resolved (thanks Advil) and she could stand up on her own. I was changed and ready to go out with her! I was wearing my dope Janji shorts, singlet, and prAna hat—my favorite outfit. I had in my pack arm warmers, headlamp, notes about how far to the next AS, some gels and Gus and fruit snacks, batteries, and I quickly downed a 5 hour energy. I left my running bag with Kyle, thinking he would bring it to all the Crew stops for the remainder of the race. That was my assumption and that was wrong—he would be at mile 76 but after that, he was going to sleep. Whoops.

Around 11pm, we were off for the night. As a pacer, I learned a lot from watching Lauren and also felt an almost maternal need to make sure she felt good and finished. Despite RD Amy’s forecast for a dry race, we ran almost the entirety of our time together in pouring rain and thunderstorms. I mean big storms and lots of rain. It rained over an inch of water during the night.

Lauren and I were both running with literally the shirts on our back essentially for the final marathon of the race. She didn’t have a drop bag, I didn’t either, and we had no Kyle. This was fine. I immediately made the rule that neither of us were to take off socks/shoes. Lauren self-diagnosed herself as having drank too much water and she was able to solve it by not drinking and peeing every 5 minutes. I was very impressed with her cognizance and composure to figure it out so far into the race.

As we moved steadily, our splits got faster! Once Lauren figured out her body, we were able to run every single downhill and walk with speed up each climb. I think we passed between 20-25 racers from when I picked her up to the finish, and we were only passed once. Lauren had a great attitude and never once talked about stopping, she got up from every chair on her own and she must’ve done 30 squats just getting up from peeing. I am so impressed and inspired.

She crossed the finish line seconds after 8:30am, for a 28:30 finishing time. She is a machine, and next year I want to say I did the same thing: I’m going to try to run 100 miles at the Vermont 100 next year.

See you next year, finish line

The course was mostly dirt road, with a few trails thrown in for good measure. I think this course could be run with road shoes. I ran in my Topo Runventures, which was far too heavy duty for this course—but I also don’t have any other shoes really so there’s that.

What goes through a racer’s mind in the final marathon of a 100 mile race is where I must find my own motivation and strength. There was nothing worth saying about the entire distance to keep a racer going. There’s nothing stupider than to hear “Only 25 miles left!!!” because that is ignorant. If anything I would say, “2 miles until the aid station.” Or “we just ran a whole mile straight, you’re crushing it.” Yes, a whole mile is worth the celebration sometimes. Its little steps, moving forward, and repeating that until you finish or until you physically cannot do it anymore. This type of distance is when you beat yourself mentally to actually test yourself physically. I have never been at that point, the point where my body forces me to give up and I have the mental push to continue.

I cannot wait to try put myself in this extreme condition, to see what happens to myself, to see where my mind draws strength from. 50 miles is not trivial, but it is not flirting with the limits of what my human body can achieve. I’m thankful to be able to pace such a strong role model, impressed with her composure during the race, and motivated to find my limits and realize they aren’t as limiting.

Of course, one step at a time. I’m focusing now on Bigfoot 100k first. I was scared of this race for a while, it’s a lot of climbing and descent, but between White Mountain adventures and recognizing that I can do so much more, I’m starting to have fun and look forward to kicking some ass in the Cascades. Trail running, ultramarathons, and finding yourself alone in the woods have been pivotal for me as a growing person. I encourage everyone to try to test themselves in the same way.

Salomon Trail Running Festival- Canicross 5k & Pinelands 50 Miler

I’m never in a huge rush to write up anything. I’ve found my desire to write up about this past weekend even more minimized than usual and I’m not sure why that is. I had a fun weekend, I finally ran an ultra with a bunch of my friends present, the weather was stupendous and I had a decent run. I’m not sure why I have this strange feeling about the race, about running that kind of distance, and about what trail running and ultra-racing mean to me. I’ll try to summarize later, perhaps writing out my thoughts about the weekend will help me come together to some conclusion.

The weekend plan.

The Salomon Trail Running Festival at Pineland Farms is great for groups with tons of talent, enthusiasm, but who all run different distances. There are distances from 5k through 50 miles, offering everything in between. This was ideal for our club, since everyone can run a short race, and many people wanted to come and test themselves at a large race. We had over 10 members come up to race at Pineland farms! Since a large number of us were heading up, we thought it was work best to camp out Saturday after the shorter races, and then again on Sunday after the 25k and ultras. Camping is fun, large groups camping is fun, and the campsite was unbelievably conveniently located only 3 miles from the race. We made plans at Bradbury Mountain State Park. We all thought out tents and food. We planned for 3 dogs to hang out. It was all in all a good plan!

Saturday- Canicross 5k for Sky

On Saturday, Ruby and I hit the road early. Buck and Sky in tow, we were out the door by 6:30am heading up to New Gloucester, Maine. Sky and Ruby were racing Saturday and it was already unbearably hot out that early in the morning. The high was 91 degrees for the day, dangerously hot for runners and dogs. When we got to the race, I was nervous. Being a Canicross, the race was dog specific and there would be many dogs around. Sky is not a calm dog, and she is not great with all dogs. She is dominant and can be aggressive towards smaller dogs, but she listens well, and has been through professional training with me. I can handle her and call her off—but I’m not sure anyone else can have that kind of control over her. I know that she and I are bonded, how could we not be by now? I don’t worry when she is with me because I know her quirks and know what signs to look for and how to divert her when she gets that “Border Collie gaze” towards another animal (or is it the “Karelian Bear Dog gaze”?). However, it’s not that I don’t trust others with her, they just don’t have the same experience that I have with her or with handling a dog in general. Seth is a great guy, amazing runner, and really good with Sky. However, there are times he’s holding her and not seeing other people with dogs walk by or he’s not paying attention to her behavior enough and there are close calls. In the end, if there is a confrontation—my dog will likely “win” and in doing so, we would lose. It’s sad and scary to think about but given her history, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. That’s why I was worried.

So with 185 dogs registered for the Canicross, I was nervous. I had Seth and Sky walk around to get used to each other. I had Sky get soaked in water to cool off and tried to have her lie down in the shade. She was stressed. There was so much activity and she was with a large group of some familiar some unfamiliar faces. When it was time to line up in the start chute, we had a plan. Sky and Seth would try to get towards the beginning for a couple of reasons. (1) Sky ball is a rocket, an excited, strong, powerful rocket and she wants to be in front and will fight to be in front. (2) I would be able to stand near her just outside the chute and try to calm her down in close proximity to other dogs… many of whom have owners who let their dogs go up to everyone and everything without thinking that maybe it’s not a good idea to approach. And (3) Seth and Sky want to win. So get to the front. In the chute, Sky was fine. She sat quietly, confused probably. There was a border collie milling about next to us and Sky paid her no mind. Then.. the bell went off and she and Seth were gone.

It was HOT. I didn’t know how she would do, I advised Seth to let her dictate the pace, but encourage her to drink some at the water stop. I warned him not to let her gulp everything because of bloat but just drink a little.

Less than 23 minutes later we see Pete and his pup Stella cross the finish! I lost my bet with him I suppose, so I owe him a beer but good for them–strong race! Stella is a beautiful poodle and ran a happy race. Not even a minute later I see Seth and Sky happily prance across the finish. They finished 13^th overall with 23:29, good enough to be Sky’s 5k PR.. AND SHE POOPED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RACE. I love this Poopgirl so much, finishing well and taking a shit in the middle. Seth and Sky were good for an age group award as well! As soon as she finished we hosed her down and got her to the shade. It was dangerously hot out, we even saw some dogs finish and immediately get treated with IV for heat.

Ruby, Wendy, and Kevin ran the 10k, while Chris ran the 5k. After all the Saturday races, we went to set up camp. Then my friend Sean was around and he picked me up to go watch soccer in Portland. I left Sky girl with our pack, and she was well behaved and slept under a table the entire time.

Sunday Morning: Pre-Race

I went to bed Saturday night in my running clothes. While I went to bed, I didn’t sleep a wink. I was very excited, I felt good, I didn’t want to sleep! I wanted to RUN. I tossed and turned and annoyed the dogs in the tent for a few hours and at 4:45am, I got up and got out and—miracle of miracles—I pooped. Got that out of the way! The weather was PERFECT. It was cloudy, not too breezy, and the high was set for around 60 degrees. It was a stunning transition from the day before, and a welcome one.

What to bring? Well, the Aid Stations are spread out throughout the course and there are many of them. I don’t think you went more than 2.5 miles without seeing an AS. I decided against my hydration pack and went instead with a simple 12 oz handheld bottle and a pouch to keep S-Caps, Saltstick, and Advil. I could refill as needed.

Matt stirred himself out around 5:15am, race started at 6am. We were on our way over. Once we got to the race, I dropped my backpack off with the other drop bags, ate a PopTart, and then… oh lord I pooped again! Channeling the energy of Sky, I went to the portajohn and had to kind of hustle to get into the starting chute. 6am, here we go!

Loop 1—mini loop plus the 15.5 miles. (19 miles total).

I ran the first few miles with Matt. We were still waking up, I knew he would drop me soon since he is a stronger and faster runner. I had early troubles with this race that worried me. I didn’t feel fresh. Even in the first 6 miles, my legs felt heavy and each step was an effort. I began to get inside my own head… I had only gone for one real 20 mile training run. I felt great on that run! I was running a similar trail set and managed to fly and feel good in warmer weather. Here I was struggling within the first 10 miles. How could I ever finish out 50 miles?

I tried to let those thoughts dissipate. It was early in the day. My go-to reason to not quit is not a good reason but it often works for me. I ask myself if I am injured. The answer has often been NO. I then remind myself that if I stop now, I would be bored for the next 8 hours so I might as well continue running. Like, I have nothing better to do than run 50 miles!

Well it worked a bit, because after 15 miles (yes.. after 15 miles) I finally started to feel okay and was able to crank out regular miles. The miles weren’t speedy, not nearly as fast as I had hoped for, but they were better. The terrain for the course was runnable. That’s the best way to describe it. There are carriage road trails that wind in the woods, there are mowed field trails, there are relatively no rocks or roots, and the hills are all manageable. Everything was so runnable that even in loop 1, it was tedious and boring at points. I started talking to runners around me. I met Emma from NH and then I ran into Brian—the guy I met at Ghost Train! I learned the course and eventually came through back to the start/finish.

I saw Ruby at this point (and the beloved dogs) and I panicked because I didn’t see my backpack or the drop bags on the course. I remember the RD said they were at an AS and I didn’t remember which and no volunteers at any AS really advertised that. I thought for a second that I had skipped a section and somehow cut the course. I asked Ruby if she could ask someone where the bags were and maybe try to get my bag back to the start so I knew where it was. Then I took off back into the woods for the second 15.5 mile loop.

Loop 2- Three (races) is a crowd

So the 50 miler started at 6am, the 50k at 8am, and I imagine the 25k after that. Loop 2 was a zoo for me. I was middle/back of the pack of the 50 milers, so early on I was passed by the leader of the 50k—no other than Erik. It made me happy to see him, and to see him winning. But after he passed me, lots of other fast 50k runners started passing me and that was hard to deal with. I don’t mind being passed, I know each race is different, but it felt like a long time of being passed. Furthermore, eventually the 25k runners also came flying through… and I mean flying. I saw Jenna, Mel, and Elyse running their 25k and then later Jeremy passed me on his way to finish his 2^nd loop and his 50k race. One girl running the 25k said she remembered me from a TARC race, she told me I looked good, to keep moving, and it really helped. I couldn’t find her name and didn’t see her later but I hope I do one day and I hope I can return the favor for her! That’s what it’s about.

This loop was frustrating for many reasons. My knees were starting to ache and my feet were also hurting. My toes were jamming on downhills and I have never experienced that in my WT10s before so I was frustrated. I even stopped to take my shoe off and fix my sock, not that it helped. The worst is when 25k racers keep telling me I’m almost done. Their heart is in the right place, but, c’mon fuck off I’m not almost done. Ugh.

I re-evaluated my goals at this point. I was around 30 miles through and at just over 6 hours. I wasn’t on pace to finish sub-10 hrs and I didn’t foresee myself speeding up. I thought, I’d settle for a time PR, sub 10:43.

Anyway, I finished that loop, only passed by Jeremy at the end. I had mounting frustration from this part of my race, I wanted something to make it better. I saw Ruby and dogs again, saw Erik having finished his race, and I wanted my backpack to change my shirt. Somehow I put full belief that changing my shirt would make everything okay. So I saw Ruby, she not only couldn’t locate my backpack but whoever she asked didn’t really answer her question. I was devastated. I started to cry. I was mad at the race, mad at myself for trusting the race, mad at Ruby, mad at my shoes. I told Ruby to tell the race director, verbatim, to “shove an asshole up his asshole” and then I ran off crying in the woods.

Oh, was I supposed to look normal?

Loop 3-  Big Dogs Gotta Eat

My pity party tears lasted maybe half a mile. I re-entered the woods and it was quiet. I couldn’t see anyone ahead. I couldn’t see anyone through the woods on the other parts of the course. I even turned around and saw no one behind me. I was ALONE. THIS was what I wanted.

I decided at this point to take some advil. I didn’t really think about how much to take, so I just took all the advil I had… 5 capsules! Is that a lot? Yeahhhhh. But not enough to be too dangerous, maybe just like the dose one would give to a small horse.

I ran alone for a mile or so and the advil kicked in and it felt good. I started to smile. I was able to easily run the flats and uphill, I had to take it easy on the downhills at this point. My IT bands were both flaring and painful, but not crippling (yet). Soon, I hear Matt yell at me from through the woods and I look up and see him. I give him a quick Usain Bolt stance and a “yeeeehaw” and told him I felt good. I think it was a pick me up for him. It was certainly one for me. Matt was ~8 miles ahead of me maybe. He was on to the last part of the race, and I buckled down and continued with the first part of my last loop.

This loop was just about getting it done. I knew the course, I knew what was going on. I just had to go. I kept with my momentum. I ran long swaths of the race. I ran the uphills, which was opposite what most runners were doing at this point in the race. I spent some periods just walking, just focusing on always moving forward and when I felt better, running again. I caught and passed a few people, stopping less and less. When I came through the start/finish part before seeing the last bit of the course, everyone was finished and cheering for me. I saw Jeremy first who informed me he got my backpack if I wanted it. I just started laughing. I had 5 more miles, I didn’t need to change my shirt anymore.

At this point, I re-evaluated my goals once again. I had 75 minutes to go 5 miles. I could make that happen for sure. As I moved, I decided that I could try to for a sub 10:30. With that new goal and the real finish line in my mind, I moved. Big dogs gotta eat.

Still unable to look normal

The final mile- Crow’s errand

I ran a good chunk of that section and came up to the “final mile” aid station and Seth, Ruby, and Jeremy were there. They said a mile to go, I was at 10:16, I was going to make it. I threw my handheld at them, and tried to just keep moving. This last mile is a grassy mowed trail through a field. I took off on the downhill and tried to keep from my knees buckling, as they nearly had a few hills earlier. I turned the first corner and then there it was. No, not the finish line, a goddamn murder crow in the middle of the trail just staring at me.

In my normal, well rested state of mind, I don’t believe in omens or signs or fate or any of that crap. BUT, after 49 miles of running, 10+ hours on my feet, and no sleep for each of the 2 nights before the race… yeah I was a little nervous. This crow, was just walking back and forth across the trail staring at me, daring me to keep going. Every consequence crossed my mind in a split second. First it was, yeah I bet I break my leg on this last ¾ mile stretch. Then, what if something worse happens??

Then, like some dumb triumphant hero, I just ran straight at the sucker while flapping my own arms, and scared it away. I actually stated out loud “not today, asshole” and kept running, laughing at myself for being a complete dramatic idiot. I finished the trail, crossed the road for the last time with the finish line 100 meters ahead. I stopped to shake the hand of the cop who kept me smiling all 6 times I crossed that road. He was a great help and motivator and a cop no less. I thanked him, looked at my watch, and ran across the finish line 1 minute later at 10:27, I suppressed my urge to HOWL,  collapsed to the ground and tried not to cry tears of joy upon seeing my dog. All told, an eventful 11 minutes.

Finisher prizes include a water bottle, large cowbell, pint glass, a pair of Darn Tough socks, and  Salomon head buff!

Post-Race (Black and) Blues

So yes, I’m happy I did some of what I set out to do. I finished my second 50 mile distance race. I didn’t run as well as I hoped to. I learned some lessons during the race, about myself and my style and how to fix certain problems. After the race though, I was a mess. I was hurting real bad. My knees were swollen and I had no control of bending them. My IT bands felt like stab wounds. Sleeping in the tent that night was agony, and mostly impossible. I slept some, but every movement was like a painful alarm clock and it set me awake. I was up again the following morning at 4:30am, sitting in the rain with Seth and Jeremy, talking about how we feel. It wasn’t until we got home, and after a 4 hr nap in my bed plus a 3 mile slow shuffle walk that I started to feel normal again. I was able to run a bit again 2 days post race, completing a short progression run and I’ve biked a ton pain free all week. But I am still very tired.

The Brighton Bangers Running Club had a really strong performance this weekend, starting with the Canicross. Pete finished top 10, Sky and Seth took AG award. In the 50k, Erik took 1^st overall, and the team won the team award. Matt was running his first ultra, jumping straight into the 50 mile distance and he pushed to finish just under 8 hours! This was a personal longest race for so many runners and hopefully a great trail racing experience.

Saturday crowd

The sunday team!

Nutrition Recap:

• S-Cap or Saltstick every hour
• Lots of oranges
• Half water/half gatorade at every AS
• Coca Cola was glorious
• Tons of chips
• Some PB&J
• No GUs or Gels.. all real food
• 5 Advil

 

So, back to my musings at the beginning of this post—where am I at in my headspace? I’m not sure. I’m very tired. If someone had told me a year ago that in  9 months, I would’ve run 5 ultramarathons, including two 50 milers, I would have slapped them. That’s a ton of added stress on my legs. I like the experience, and I don’t regret any of the races (yes even Crap Rocks was worth it), but I’m looking forward to taking some time off this summer and focusing on hiking and climbing.

There is something special about wanting to quit a race so many times. I question what I am doing, why I am doing it. Aren’t I supposed to be having fun? Enjoying the race? Why wasn’t I? Maybe I need to quit running again for a bit to find out…

Frigus 2016: a sNOwshoe 60k

Pre-Race AHH

Let me start this post with putting together some thoughts that I had all of 2016 prior to this race. In the end of 2015, I was feeling good but also had mixed feelings about the course of my life. I had completed 2 ultras that fall, 50k and 50m and had dropped from a 40m race early with a turned ankle. I reflected hard on that turned ankle and am not sure if I dropped because of a mental injury or a physical one. Sure, my ankle hurt, but so what? It wasn’t broken, I knew that… was it the excuse I was looking for to stop? In my life, I was feeling a similar mental injury with my PhD program. I won’t get into the grimy details but I was considering quitting, mastering out, and getting a job. PhD program or ultra marathon, there are highs and lows to each race. Find something to push you through the low and you’ll find the high.

My 2016 training was going well. I was X training with spin classes, lifting weights, and some yoga. I hadn’t really gotten any good long runs in, but instead mastered the art of several short runs in 1 day. I was going on weekend trail adventures, primarily with Jeremy and Erik, to the Blue Hills, Douglas, Leominster, and even a midnight hike up Mt. Chocorua! My longest run was only 14 miles but there were many 10+ mile days were I would run commute EVERYWHERE and those 3-4 mile runs add up. In reality, both types of days are important: long runs and many short runs. Long runs keep your mind ready. They train you to mentally persevere. The short runs are great because they treat the day like an ultra! What is an ultra but a series of short runs anyway? It’s just run 4-5 miles, and then feast on a buffet, rinse, repeat.

Mentally, I was not ready for another ultra. Part of me was doubting my own ability as a competitor or as an ultrarunner. I wasn’t sure if my first two long races were a fluke, something that just kind of happened because I wasn’t expecting much of myself. I had put no mental pressure on myself to succeed in the fall, which could have contributed to why I was able to finish. Now, knowing that I have gone that distance, there is expectation. There is the thought that if I am unable to finish it now, it is because I am bad. I am not good enough. I am a failure. Those are the thoughts that really kill me, in all walks of life. That is why my next ultra race would be so important, I had to prove to myself that I was not a fluke, and that it was not some freak accident that I was able to finish 2 ultras in the fall. I need to prove to myself that I’m not an impostor—another stark parallel to the PhD lifestyle (re: Impostor Syndrome). It would be a mental challenge and in being that, I would learn a lot about myself. So what would be my next race?

Winter Ultra….FRIGUS

February 27^th, Saturday, I competed in The Endurance Society’s Frigus race. My charming friend, Ryan, competed last year (as he does with many Endurance Society events) and had chatted up the race. Last year, he finished 2^nd in the Triathlon race—a 30k snowshoe, 30k XC ski, and 5k sled run event. With last winter in mind, I thought I would spend much of this winter honing my snowshoe skills, getting out to the fells and blue hills snowshoeing with my dog to maintain my sanity, much like I was doing last year. With all the snowshoe practice I was planning on aggregating, I should try my luck at a snowshoe race and instead of signing up for a local 10k or even a half marathon, I am infected by Ryan’s “live large” attitude and signed up for the Frigus 60k snowshoe event—up in Goshen, VT in the middle of the Green Mountains, just a casual 3.5 hour drive from Boston. Plucking a feather from Ryan’s infecting cap, I talked 2 of my Brighton Banger teammates (and favorite weekend warriors) to sign up for races as well—Erik for the 10k XC ski and Jeremy for the 65k Triathlon! Hooray friends who also make poor race decisions!

So one big flaw in the Frigus adventure plan was simply out of our control. Winter 2016 was very unlike winter 2015.  Instead of ending Feb with 6+ feet of snowfall, we had –I don’t know… — maybe 14 inches of snow in Boston total! While I am not wholly disappointed with the lack of ass whooping Mother Nature bestowed upon us this year, it did dramatically decrease my snowshoeing practice down to zero. Yup, I went snowshoeing zero times this winter. Which made me feel hilariously underprepared for a snowshoe ultra in Vermont. For the weeks preceding the race, I knew the VT had more snow than we did but I was on the fence about whether or not I wanted them to have enough to snowshoe in or if I would prefer to just run the race on foot with microspikes.

Even if I did know what I would have preferred, it isn’t as though I really have a choice in the weather. Turns out that there was NOT a large snowpile on the trails around Moosalamoo (where the race was held). I could’ve slogged with snowshoes but they weren’t really necessary and the small sections where they would’ve been useful were not worth taking them for the remainder of the 30k loop.

So Frigus Race Time:

Pack light, right? Didn’t wear the pink Nike sweater, the snowshoes, or the headlamps at all! 

Erik, Jeremy, and I went up to VT Friday night before a Saturday 8am start. This was a last minute decision, since the thought of waking up at 4am to drive there in the morning, run, and then drive home actually made me cry. We were able to sleep on the floor of the Blueberry Inn Ski Center with other members of the race. It was far from a good night’s sleep for me, but I didn’t expect to have one anyway. At least we weren’t in the car for nearly 4 hours that morning! At check in, we learned that 6 people signed up for the tri, including Jeremy! I think that increased his hope as performing well but who knows. I had no idea how many women were competing in the 60k (they condensed the snowshoers and xc skiers into 1 race since neither footwear was necessary).

So cozy

I had NO idea what to wear for the start. I procrastinated by staying in my sleeping bag and trying to psych myself up. Apparently, it was 9 degrees outside, but the forecast predicted 20s and 30s as the day progressed. But, I knew we had a few big climbs up mountains and it could be very cold up there. I wanted to dress for when I heated up but I also didn’t want to risk freezing in case something went wrong. I wore my Nike running tights as my only leg layer, thick thick thick smartwool hiking sock, New Balance WT110s, a short sleeve Underarmor base, Nike tech long sleeve, AND my freaking Mountain Hardware Winter Coat up top. I had a buff and thin gloves as well. I have never started a run in my winter coat and was skeptical but also, wanted to be warm!

Just before the race started I met another 60ker named Amie, who was hanging out with Hannah and Yitzy (friends via Ryan). She, besides being a total badass, talked to me a little about conditions and made me feel good that I at least knew someone else competing in the ultra. This was a hard day for her, recovering from shoulder surgery and only a few weeks away from the Georgia Death Race, he goal should just be to not get injured and enjoy whatever distance she was able to complete. Her hilarious personality made me feel good about getting out to the start with my Nathan 11L Pack with socks and another buff inside, Microspikes, and some food. At 8am on the money, the race started.

The Course: 2 “30k” loops

So the course was to be 2 loops of a 30k. Here is some information about the course.

You get most of the climbing done by mile 4. Each loop only offered maybe 2100ft gain and most of that was done at the very beginning. You start with a small bushwack-esque climb through some thicket up a hill and then are rewarded with a STUNNING view of the sun kissing the mountain range. Don’t linger though because you have a runnable downhill to a road that takes you to the second, longer climb up Mt. Romance. This climb is longer and just a grind. Maybe a mile, mile and a quarter in total length you are just climbing and turning and climbing. It’s a true calf burner, but it’s never undoable. When you get to the top of this climb, you’re rewarded with a rolling downhill 1.5 miles that lead you to a road. You’re on that for another few miles and then you turn into the only Aid Station on the course ~ 8.5-9 miles in. After that you turn up another big hill and then you are rolling through for what feels like forever. Eventually you hit the reservoir and are opened up to an amazing view of the hills and peaks you just climbed! The course continues in this fashion until it joins back with the 10k course. Maybe 1 or 2 small climbs and then you are back at the Start/Finish in 16 miles total (a little short of a 30k… but I wasn’t complaining). 30k racers are done and 60k racers must return for more.

Oh yeah? 

View from a top the first climb

Nice runnable hill

The reservoir

Conditions

The sun was out, the sky was clear, and the temperatures warmed up. While I don’t think it got above freezing, it was pleasant in the sun. The first half of the course was snowpacked for the most part, with maybe 4-5 inches of unpacked snow just on the other side of the summits. There were some stream crossings that were only partially frozen over, making it trick to cross without sticking your foot through into cold water. Microspikes were really helpful for me although I don’t think they were necessary. When you did manage to put your foot through into water, it was hell for a few minutes because snowpack would start accumulating under your foot in the spikes which was difficult to maneuver with. On the second half of the course, it was even more post-holing into water and there were some iffy sections on the second loop where so many people had already post-holed that there was no where to really step. My goal was to be done before the sun went down and it got cold. The conditions certainly slowed me down but they weren’t impossible and they certainly could’ve been worse.

 Loop 1- Mental Cramping

My first loop started well. I started with Amie but she wanted to start slower and I know that, personally, I need to move when I feel good and I felt like moving! I made it to the first AS in good time, and took off for the second leg of loop 1. During this stretch I started doubting myself. I kept thinking that I was sore and tired and slowing down. I wanted to get to the start/finish and stop. All common thoughts for ultra runners at some point, I’m sure. I mean, 16 miles is enough for 1 day, right?

So when I made it to the start/finish, I was smiling and happy and just smiling made me want to go back for more. After all, I finished loop 1 in 3:40, hung out and changed clothes and ate and was out for loop 2 by noon. It was only noon—it would be stupid to stop. Why did I even want to stop—because of pain? I’m not injured, I’m moving well, it’s just pain. Without injury, I have no reason to stop, of course this is painful but in the words of my good friend Ryan “suck it up, buttercup.” Plus, there was an unconfirmed rumor that I was in first place female for the 60k.

Charming Loop 1 selfie 🙂 

Loop 2- Cultivation

I have never raced before thinking that I could win something and, holy shit, did that light a fire. I pushed myself and focused my thoughts on how much it would suck to slow down and get passed. I didn’t even know for sure if I was first female but even the thought that I could win a race made me move. I pushed through the climbs, didn’t linger at the AS, and that final leg, the last 8 miles were slow. My mind was all over the place, I was checking over my shoulder, I had to fall into a trance. I started thinking deeply about a theme my yoga instructor introduced the week preceding my race. She talked about this idea of cultivation. We are natural cultivators of our lives, be it our diets, lifestyles, mantras, or views on justice and the social world. I began to deeply reflect on my own cultivation of myself and my role in the community. I plan on writing a whole post on this idea and what cultivation means to me. It brought me through the wood during this loop and I hope it brings others through their own woods, as well.

After a while I ran into 2 guys—Davey and Shawn—who kept me company for a while and also kept me shuffling along on sections I may otherwise have walked. Closer to the end I ran into Erik and Amie! Amie unfortunately had dropped at 30k and went back for a 10k loop and Erik was out on a stroll to find me. I walked with them for a bit, but then ran in for a 7:58 finish with Shawn and Davey. My second loop was just under 4 hours!

Feeling way better on loop 2 without that giant jacket!

First place? Really?

I was really pleased with my effort, although at the end, I felt good enough to go back out (just like the other time I made it to the start/finish!) which probably means that I did not put enough effort into the race. I always feel like I end races with something left in the tank and I can’t tell if that is good or bad. I would like to compete with everything I have at some point, where I cross the finish line and am unable to take another step. (Kind of like how Jeremy finished, except I would probably try to fuel myself better).

Oh yeah! Jeremy won his race, too and came in ~10 minutes before me. Erik, who was signed up for 10k, actually ran the 30k and would’ve taken 1^st place if he has registered for that race. So overall, Jeremy finished 1/3 (only 2 people finished the tri) and I finished 1/? (only 5 women finished the 60k). BIG DOGS GOTTA EAT.

Big dogs gotta eat. 

A good showing for the Brighton Bangers at our first ever Endurance Society event! I should shout out to Andy Weinberg and Jack Cary for putting on a really great, wholesome and fun event. I wish I could make Infinitus this year (Pinelands is the same weekend) but maybe next year!

As a winner, I got a GIANT medal (which I turned into a coaster) with the ES logo, a crate of goodies, and a free pair of Icebug shoes! Pretty sweet!

Some things:

• Stop overdressing.
• You can unfreeze your water bladder nipple by sticking it under your clothes with your other nipples! Warms it right up!
• You are not a fluke. You are not an impostor.
• Keep in your head to keep out of your head- find a mantra that kicks you in the ass and move.
• Don’t hang out forever at AS, get what you need, change your clothes, and GTFO with a pocket full of cookies.
• Having friends at a race is so much nicer than slogging 50 miles by yourself.