Tag Archives: adventures in trail running

Wildflower Experience – 10 (ish) Mile Race Report

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I know I still have not yet written about Lake Sonoma.  It took me awhile to be at a point where I even wanted to think about doing that, but I was there…ready to share my experience and everything I’d learned from it.  I started it, but it looks like my draft may have been eaten by cyber space.  But, it’s coming….I promise.  But first, since it’s fresh – Wildflower.

For the first time in a long time (well, not that long I suppose…is five years a long time?), we were back at Wildflower.  It finally rained, the lake finally filled, so there was a triathlon.  New for this year, was a 10 ish mile trail run (it was advertised as 10, course was 10.7, and I came in just over 10.8), classic trail run style.  haha.  I figured, since we’d be there, I’d give it a try.  It was only a few weeks after Lake Sonoma, but was only 10 miles….I’m up for that pretty much any weekend anyway.

Wildflower is the ‘Woodstock of Triathlon’, which always means it’s an adventure.  It’s also over Cinqo de Mayo, which adds to the fun.  It’s desert camping….so toasty during the day and freezing at night.  It’s a weekend of campfires, friends, wine, and racing.  It’s all fun and games once you get there.  However, for me, getting there always seems to be a cluster.

The first year, I had to work, so we left late…and sat in traffic all evening.  The next year, as I was loading the car (at 5pm), I find out USF had cancelled their portion of the China trip I had planned.  I was leaving five days after the race….and was now homeless for a week in China with little time to fix it.  The next year, I planned to work a half day, and get to camp before dark.  But, the crazy man at the end of the hall had other plans and decided to tell SFPD that he had a bomb in the apartment.  I got home to pick up my stuff just time for the bomb squad to evacuate the building.  The whole scene was cleaned up by 5pm, but once again, I sat in traffic and got there after dark.  This year, I had a plan.  Work remote….ride up with Brian…book a hotel to work at during the day….have Mark pick me up on his way in.  Get there long before dark.  But, once again, the universe had other plans.

First, I realize that while the hotel is 20 miles away from Lake San Antonio, there arent any roads and it’s an hour and a half away.  Meaning, an extra three hours of driving for Brian.  At least we found out the night before and not in the moment?  Silver lining, I guess.  But, of course it didnt end there….work was nuts….I wasn’t completely packed on time, amongst other things.  I did manage to use my lunch break to get to the other side of SFO, so that helped.  But still….didnt get there until 9:30.  Could’ve been sooner, but had to end up behind someone taking the winding roads into the park at 40mph.  Land Rover was bored…..

Anyway…this is about the race.  So, I took Friday off from work to hang out at camp with our friends.  We walked down to the race expo to pick up our packets…we were early, so Brian and I enjoyed a beer from Firestone-Walker Brewery, and picked up a bottle of 15c wine (Wildflower edition) to enjoy after the race on Saturday.

Picking up my number was easy.  I had the print out with the QR code as well as it added to my Apple Wallet (I’d rather be safe than sorry).  I asked where the race started and if there was a map somewhere.  The volunteer didnt have a map, but said it started in the Redonda Vista Campground.  He told me to check with the Solutions booth next to him about a map.  So another lady and I walked over to the second booth to find out.  The ladies there didnt have much more info, until their boss showed up….she told us the start was behind the stage at the festival.  Uh…that’s very different than the first guy told us.  She figured he had it confused with the 5k.  Of course, there was no rush to go tell this person they were handing out incorrect info….Race packet in hand, I went back to find the rest of the group, leaving the other runner to complain about the start time.

We picked up the rest of the packets and walked back to camp.  I hid from the bugs (were the bugs always this bad??) for a bit, hung out, and had an AMAZING pasta dinner – thanks Glenn!  After that, it was wine by the fire and a nice night with friends before the race.

Saturday morning, I got up with the long course triathletes….had some breakfast and watched Brian change a flat bike tire.  Ugh…the last thing you want in the precious few hours before you start your race.  I held a light….unfortunately, I’m not much more help than that.  Nor do you want me to be.  The first and only time I changed a rear tire, I didnt put it back on correctly (read: at all), and almost killed both of us.  But, our friends had an extra tube, tire got changed, and shortly they were on their way to the start.  And, I caught a few more hours of sleep.  Maybe just another hour, but it all counts for something.

After my nap, I went out to the road to watch the long course bikes go by and cheer everyone on.  I missed Courtney….by the time I realized it was her, she was gone.  Brian came up maybe ten minutes after her.  He stopped for a kiss and was on his way.  Mark came by after that, and I headed back down to camp to get ready for my race.

The interesting thing about this race is that it started at 11:45.  I’m sure there were a lot of complaints (I know I heard them) about starting so late, especially since it’s so hot.  But, I feel like stuff like that is part of Wildflower.  The long course athletes are still out there, for a lot longer than we were.  And, we ran on the mountain bike course…trying to share trails with a bunch of mountain bikes is not an experience I would want to have.  I also liked that it was a Saturday event…in the past, I always raced on Sunday, so couldnt join the party and relax with the majority of our friends who raced on Saturday.

Since I remembered the Wildflower trails being mainly fire roads, I decided to skip the ankle braces and just tape the left one.  The tape lasted all of the mile and a half walk to the start line, so I ditched it when I sat down to pull all the fox tails out of my socks.  I lathered up with Vaseline and was on my way.

I knew the start was behind the stage, but wasnt sure where.  I asked another runner with a trail run bib on, and she told me I was looking at it.  Then pointed to a small sign and chalk markings on the pavement, ‘Trail Run Start Line’.  Ok, I had arrived.  And had 15 minutes to spare.  I made a last minute dash to the porta-potty, and chatted with the other runners.  Most of which either gave a side-eye to my attire, or directly called it out.  Which, on one hand, I’m sure I did look odd – I had on capri tights (I never wear shorts.  Never.  I dont know why.  I just dont.) and a long sleeved shirt.  ‘Aren’t you going to get hot?’ ‘Are you worried you’re going to overheat?’.  Well, I do have a tank top on….but, I got some really good heat training advice from a friend who has run Badwater, amongst other 100+ mile races, in weather far hotter.  The tip – wear a long sleeved shirt…it keeps the sun off your skin.  And, drench it with water at the aid stations.  You’ll stay cooler longer.  If all else failed, I had the tank underneath.

Soon, we were off.  The first mile and a half or so was on pavement….ouch.  Wasnt this a trail run?  One of the ladies I was chatting with earlier came by and reminded me that I should hydrate….’ummm….thanks, I think.  But, I have run 50 milers….I think I have 10 under control….’.  I was nice and toasty by the time I hit the first aid station, so I grabbed a sip of Gatorade (not my beverage of choice, but I had to hydrate and just hope it didnt make me sick), and poured a cup of water over each arm.  Instant relief, instant cool, and it lasted until I got to the next aid station.

The first few miles passed in a blur, even though it was only yesterday.  Somewhere around mile four, there was a hill, it was maybe a mile long climb, but had some relief for brief moments.  I also think it might have been under some cover.  I got to the top, hoping for an aid station, but there wasnt one.  Ugh….now I was hot.  But, not horribly.  My shirt was still wet and I pulled the sleeves down to cover my arms and pressed on.  It was hot, there wasnt much air circulation, but this wasnt Madrone.  Somewhere between the hills and the heat, I realized I was passing people.  That doesnt usually happen…and if it does, they usually pass me again.  The only ones passing me….were long course guys.  So, I pressed on.

Through a section that I learned was called the furnace and out of the park.  I passed another few people.  I got to one aid station….maybe right around 6 miles, and a volunteer asked if I wanted water….I took both cups and poured them over my head.  He laughed as I sought out the table for a few more to pour on my shirt and finally one to drink.  The routine became the same….grab a gatorade and have a few sips, grab two cups of water…one in my left hand to dump immediately over my head, one in my right hand to dump on my left shoulder and down my arm, grab two more…one in my left hand to dump on my right shoulder and down my arm, and one to drink while I walked to the last trash can.  I missed the trash once….and started to pick the cup up, a volunteer quickly assured me it was ok and they had it.  You can take the girl out of the ultra, but apparently, you cant take the ultra out of the girl.

Shortly after coming back into the park, there was a spectator with a hose.  ‘Thumbs up for the hose’ he called.  Oh…oh yes.  I need that in my life.  Two thumbs up! Now I was completely soaked. It was enough to keep me running into the Redonda Vista camp ground, until I walked up a small hill ;).  Running through the campground was fun…lots of people out watching, waving, encouraging us.  So much fun.  Leaving the campground, I came up on another aid station, and Courtney came up behind me.  Seeing her gave me some motivation to run to the aid station and re-soak myself with water, before hiking a hill and then jogging down past our campsite.  That was a lot of fun….the rest of our friends were there cheering us on.  Malia offered me a beer, but I told her I’d take it later.  hehe…

Off to the next aid station, and more of the same.  It was right around here that I noticed there wasnt much food….or really any, other than fruit at three of the ten aid stations.  I was really hoping for something salty, but I had less than three miles to go at that point, and only one more hill.  And I had water….and my soaked shirt.  I’ve done more with far less.

We made our way through another campsite and out to the road, then the course split, the long course runners headed out to the infamous ‘pit’ and the trail runners toward the finish.  At some point, the trail run jumped back on to the fire road (my hips and knees were very thankful), and I passed another two people.  Who’s the crazy one now, friends?

One more climb, and I would be home free.  There was another runner coming down towards me…looking for her friend who was right behind me.  I heard her asking if she’d gotten lost.  Her response, no, I’m just slow.  Yup, I know how that goes.  Then, before I knew it, I was making the right turn on to Lynch hill, ready for the mile descent to the finish chute.  This was honestly the part of the race I was most concerned about….coming off of injury after injury, the last doctor who put me back together advised against running on pavement.  And, here I was….running on pavement, for a mile downhill.  I considered walking, but really didnt need to, so settled for a gentle jog.  It was hot and the temperature coming off the pavement was worse.  Jogging down the hill, I passed one more runner, who then passed me just before the chute.  Eh…all good.  No one else had passed me all day….I can handle one.  So I jogged into the finish line…and realized…NO.  No one had passed me all day, no one was going to now.  And I took off.

The finish line at Wildflower is really like no other finish line….there are people lining the gates, people filling the grandstand, music playing….it’s a party.  I was glad to be there, but the heat, the mass of people, it was all too much.  I didnt even stop to get a medal before making my way to the side and resting against one of the gates.  It took about three seconds for one of the medics to appear next to me.  Was I going to pass out?  No….I just…needed a minute.  Another medic draped soaked towels on my back, which felt amazing.  Exactly what I needed.  Along with some water.  The second medic came back with a medal for me, while the first one let me know if I didnt feel better, I could come back and get IV fluids in the medical tent.  Might not have been an all bad idea, but why recover quickly when you can suffer for the afternoon.  haha.

I sat in a tent at the finish line with some other athletes for ten minutes or so, before making my way to the food tent for some pretzels and weird pasta.  The food situation at this race, really not the greatest.  They didnt have anything salty.  And only cups of water at the finish….no bottles.  But, at least I had my running pack and could refill it.  I headed out of the finish area to wait for Brian, since I wasnt sure where he was and didnt want to miss him.

At this point, I realized how wet and dusty I was.  Completely soaking myself for the race was probably the only reason I was able to run as much as I did.  However, now my body temperature was dropping and I didnt have any spare clothes.  Ugh.  I walked around for a bit, hoping I would dry off and warm up, but that didnt happen.  My fingers started to turn white….that was exciting.  So, I went to the check in tent to see if they had an extra race shirt.  I figured they’d say no, and I really didnt want another shirt, but what I wanted less….to end up in the medical tent with race hypothermia.  So, I asked them and luckily it wasnt a problem.  Being somewhat dry made the rest of the afternoon much more bearable.  I took my new shirt and medal, and waited for Brian to finish the long course.

Overall, I had a good race.  I was thinking I would finish between two and three hours, really hoping I’d be under 2:30. Finish time – 2:21. I’ll take it. I looked up my times for the Olympic Tri/10k from five years ago, and I was faster then….but most of that was on the road.  This was mostly trail, and longer.  But, in past years, I’d swam and biked before running.  So who knows.  Not really comparable, but enough of a difference that I know I can do better.  However, I also did well enough (for me) that I know I’m on the right track.  Huge thanks to Wendell for the hot weather running tips. Now, I just need to get a few more races on the calendar so I have things to work towards.

Until the next one….

Nothing Like Joining the Polar Bear Club at Mile 18 – Way Too Cool Race Report

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Well, it was definitely an adventure.  Unfortunately, not the fun one I was hoping for, but an adventure nonetheless, and I still finished, so I’ll take it.  Let’s start at the beginning….

Getting to the race was easier than it’s been in past years, well, maybe just easier than it was that first year.  Hopefully, I’ll never have that part of the adventure again.  But, there was traffic, but not that bad of traffic.  We were at Auburn Ale House and eating just after 5.  Delicious and I highly recommend it.  Delicious Mac & Cheese, though, this may have been one of those times that the Dairy allergy reared its ugly head.  Ugh…but, better now than in the morning.

Packet pick-up was moved to Folsom…not sure why, but definitely didnt seem like it was going to be as close to the hotel and food, so we opted for morning pick-up.  Which meant an early morning, but not that early of a morning.  Get up at 4:15 to go to the gym…get up at 4:15 to go to a race.  Kind of the same, right?

So, we get to the start line, and similar to two years ago, we get epic parking.  Go early…get a space in the lot.  Perfect.  Also similar to two years ago, I had brought rain boots purely for the walk from the car to packet pick-up that morning.  Of course I didnt need them.  Maybe it was foreshadowing good things to come?  I got my stuff…bib, t-shirt (really nice shirts this year!), bag (great replacement for the instacart bag of gross), and went back to the car for a pre-race nap.

With an hour to go until start time, it was time to start getting ready.  I made my way over to the row of porta-potties, glad it was still early enough that they werent crowded.  Of course I have a run in with some random dude….moral of the story – lock your porta-potty door.  That’s how the rest of us know you’re in there.  Once I found a new one, I unfortunately realized that the previous nights stomach issues had carried over into the morning.  I walked back to the car hoping I had pepto in my pack….and that if I did, it would be enough.

Luckily, planning from previous years did me well, and there was some in the pack.  But, alas, only one.  Hopefully one tablet of pink-chalk gold would do me well.  I choked that down and proceeded to layer up….tank, fleece running jacket, gloves, hat, headband, hand warmers, and due to some last minute drops on the windshield, a rain jacket.

Brian and I made our way over to the start line only to notice that there were people playing in snow.  Where did they get the snow from?!

001 Apparently, it came from the back of someone’s pick-up truck.  Whether they’d filled it up on purpose, or lived somewhere that it was snowing, we’re not sure.  What we do know, is that the weather later added to their load.  haha.

Since I waited until the last possible second to get out of the car, there wasn’t much time before it was time to line up.  In the ten minutes or so before the race, I met a lady from Boston, who was loving the warmer-than-Boston temperatures, and a local lady running her first Way Too Cool.  Somewhere in there, I also ran into Brazen Mike, who I’ve seen at all three of the WTC’s I’ve run.  The weather held off long enough for us to start, and we were off.

Miles 1-8

The first mile or so passed in a blur….I think I was pretty much jogging until I got to the trail entrance (maybe a mile or so), then had to wait for 30 seconds-ish to get on the trail.  Maybe it was like that in previous years too, but it did seem like there was a lot of congestion in the first eight miles.

Once on the trail, I was off again.  The first loop weaves along a rolling trail, where you’re really at the liberty of the rest of the runners….if they’re running, you’re running.  If they’re walking up the hill, you’re walking up the hill.  As I ran down to the first descent, I heard the ‘OMG, we’re going to get wet’ shrieks, and briefly remembered the last time I ran down this hill in the 100+ degree weather this summer.  Definitely no water then.  Different story today.  Not as deep as year’s passed, but definitely knee deep or so.  But, it’s early and everyone still wants to avoid getting wet, so, there’s a line to cross the river.  Really people?  It’s raining.  And there’s more river crossings than I can count.  You’re going to get wet.  Just cross the river.

Across the river and up the next hill I went, continuing to follow the pack of runners on the winding trails.  Of course, I found some mud to slip in somewhere around mile 5…gotta get that first fall in early.  But, I bounce and was back up in no time….not even really enough time for the runners behind me to pass me.  Through the rivers and through the mud, back through the finish line we were heading.  I started singing the ‘I Love Mud’ song from when I was about five in my head.  At some point, it started raining, and a guy behind me was joking that it was ‘dry rain’ since when it’s 100+ degrees there over the summer, it’s dry heat.  A couple more river crossings and a lot of mud later, we were back to the start/finish line.

I saw Brian, who stuffed more hand warmers in my coat pocket, even though I was sure I didnt need them.  At some point on the first loop, I’d realized hand warmers and gloves were too warm and had taken both off, before putting just gloves back on.  I grabbed a quarter of a pb&j and a cup of Sprite at the aid station….based on the earlier stomach issues, I was afraid to take anything else, but also afraid to under fuel myself.  Ugh…it’s such a game some days.  A quick kiss, and I was off…Eight miles down.  22(ish) to go.

Miles 8 – 13

I was feeling good, so began the jog out of the park.  Hiked up the hill, jogged down….then ran into a junction where there appeared to be two sets of course markings.  Maybe the chalk washed away in the pouring rain?  Anyway, the guy in front of me and the guy behind me were both confused.  ‘Do you know where to go’? I really didnt, but I could see other runners heading down the path to the right, so we guessed and took that path.  Luckily, we were right and down to the quarry we went.

The quarry is….flat.  It has that going for it.  But, other than that, it’s about three miles of boring that feel like 35.  So, we played tag.  I jogged along, then took a short break to walk…a guy came up behind me said, ‘tag, you’re it’, and jogged by. He took a walk break further down, and as I jogged past, tagged him. This continued for several miles, I learned that he was a local guy, running his first WTC. It was a great way to make a friend and pass some miles until we hit the luau themed aid station around mile 12 or 13.

Miles 13 – 21

I had forgotten how much of a no-man’s land the 7.5 mile slog between 13 miles and 21 miles is.  It seems to get me every time.  Even that first year, when I LOVED the race and ran really well, I started to mentally lose it somewhere around mile 19.  Last year, I made the rookie mistake of not refilling my pack at mile 13, and was out of water by mile 19.  This year, while I was determined not to make rookie mistakes, I underestimated that slog between aid stations and the mental toughness it takes to get through it.

Somewhere in there, I had three people come up behind me, so I moved to the side so they could pass.  They told me not to worry, that they were sweepers.  What?!  Sweepers already??  I asked if I was last, but they were quick to assure me that I was mid-pack, maybe the start of the back, and they were mid-pack sweepers.  Just making sure everyone was ok.  Insert sigh of relief….

Somewhere between mile 17 and 18, there was another river crossing.  No problem, I’ve been through several of these.  Except this one was deeper….and I slid on a rock.  But, I recovered.  Maybe over recovered….cause before I knew what was happening, I was swimming.  In freezing cold water.  Nothing like joining the Polar Bear club 18 miles in.  Two thoughts ran through my head…..first, I’m done for (I ended up hypothermic with a medic when it was 50 degrees, no way I can come back from a dip in ice cold water), and second…where was this terrible ice bath in August, I would have appreciated it then.

Even thought I was pretty sure I was done, I didnt really have a choice other than to continue the three-ish miles to the next aid station.  Thankfully, I wasnt hurt, and I’ve gone more miles in worse shape.  Then, this happened….

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I’m honestly not sure if it was hail or snow, or a combination of both.  But seriously??  As if the surprise ice bath wasnt enough, now I’m soaked and it’s snowing.

I made it down to the mile 21 aid station in one piece, which was more than can be said for the guy in front of me (the aid station volunteer’s words, not mine), apparently he’d rolled down the bottom of the hill. Which isn’t all that surprising, the switchbacks down to that aid station are pretty steep and really slick in the rain and mud.

Similar to two years ago, the warm broth at this aid station saved me. That, in addition to an amazing volunteer. Once I had some broth, he wrang (I don’t even know if that’s a word) out my clothes and helped me get my wet gloves back on. Despite being wet, having them on would still generate body heat. And my hands were cold…I can only imagine what they must have felt like. But, the sun had come out, I’d had some broth, and I still had hand warmers. So, I was off…the goal now was to finish the race I thought I wouldn’t.

Miles 21 – 26

The miles passed in a blur coming out of the aid station. I remember hiking on trails that I’d run down before and counting down the miles to Goat hill….and trying to remember where ‘mini goat hill’ was. Looking back, it seemed like the time passed quickly. At the time, it felt anything but.

Luckily enough, this year the course had returned to normal, and ‘mini goat hill’ had disappeared. I made the left turn toward Goat hill with a couple of other runners. One let the rest of us pass, and I followed another up the hill. I hadn’t really thought about goals for this race, and based on the rest of the day, I wouldn’t have achieved them if I had. However, I always have two goals with this race…..finish, and don’t stop on Goat hill. So, up I went. Passed a couple of people who had stopped to take a break…I’m pretty sure I was really slow, but I didn’t stop.

Hearing the aid station at the top was a relief. Relief that I was at the top of the hill or a mere five miles from the end, I’m not sure. I got some more broth, some soda, a quarter of a pb&j, and talked with some other runners. I saw Brazen Mike again, we caught up, wished each other luck, and were on our way.

Miles 26 – 31

The last five miles probably passed the fastest….thank god.  However, I did forget how treacherous they are in the rain and mud.  It was a lot of scrambling, climbing down, climbing up, and taking care not to slide.  The good news is, I can still hike as fast as some people can jog…sometimes faster.  I counted the miles down in my head, and looking back, it seems like I was at the final aid station before I knew it.  This year, that aid station was fluid only, which is fine…really, it’s a mile from the end.  But, I grabbed another cup of coke and was on my way.

And, oh the last mile…really, the first half of that mile…it’s very much like the Dipsea stairs minus the stairs.  There’s roots and trees and steep and mud…I think the only thing missing is another creek crossing.  But, the end was near, so it was all good.  Somewhere in there, I passed a lady walking up the trail who told me I only had half a mile to go.  I was somewhat surprised, as I thought it was twice that.  I told her she was my favorite…she laughed and said she’d gotten that a lot.

Just before the finish, another runner came up behind me.  We chatted briefly about how we were almost there.  He mentioned something about the cut-off and how he hoped we’d make it.  I’d forgotten all about the cut-off….I asked what time it was, and he said 4:30.  Ah…we’re good.  That’s ten minutes from now and we can see the finish (maybe .25 miles away).

Then…Finish!

I’m not sure I’ve ever been so happy to finish a race.  Well, I guess that’s not completely true….there was Lake Sonoma, and a couple of marathons where being done was pretty great.  But, I digress.  Brian met me at the finish line, and got a great photo of me running like a ninja (cause when all else fails, at least you still look cool….haha)…

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He had my coat (the one I took to Everest Base Camp), that I probably did need, but all I wanted was a hug, my frog cupcake, and to be in the car.  So, that’s what we did.  I even ended up with a new Solomon beer glass for my post-race beer a day later.

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If you need a laugh….this photo was taken right before I ate both of the frog’s eyes.  In about five seconds.

Journey to Lake Sonoma

So, what now?   First, I left all of the negative energy from the race on the course once I crossed the finish line.  It was a crazy, crazy day, and all things said and done, I’m glad I finished (I don’t know that I’ve ever been closer to a cutoff and still made it).  It really is about beating that voice in your head that says you can’t.

Now, it’s all about Lake Sonoma.  Even without the surprise swim, I did realize that I need more long runs between now and then.  My legs feel better than they did after this race last year, but not nearly as good as they did the year before that.  Looking at what’s different, it’s the mid-week miles.  In 2016, I had a 24 Hour Fitness membership, and a trail behind my office, in addition to OrangeTheory.  But, the good thing is that there’s still time to fix that before Lake Sonoma.  And I have a better base (thanks, OTF!) now than I did then.

And, potentially a big learning about mid-race fueling.  I only drank soda at the aid stations.  Well, that and the broth starting at mile 21.  And I never felt sick.  Not once after I started the race.  Perhaps it’s electrolyte drinks and running that don’t mix for me.  Regardless, definitely something to keep an eye on going forward.

So, here’s to lessons and good things to come.  I’d love to finish Lake Sonoma in the light.  But, as I learned this past weekend, goals can change mid-race due to slips, trips, and even a dip rivaling the polar bear club at mile 18.  If I can add a second Lake Sonoma finish to my race resume, I’ll consider that a win :).

Until next time….

Building a Snowman…AKA, this Weekend’s Race Plan

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So…its been awhile. Almost a year. But, it’s race season, so…I’m back. Just in time for Way Too Cool. Two years ago, it poured. Buckets. Like therapy, a shower, and cardio, all at once. I’ve never been so wet and muddy. And, I ran the best 50k I’ve ever run. How, I’m not sure. Well, yeah, I am. Pretty sure it was some grit, determination, and a gym called Orange Theory.

Last year, it was wet. And cold. But no rain. And I…well, it wasn’t fun. Fighting off injury, recovering from a different injury, cold, under trained, and just not feeling it. I didn’t have a good run….was out of it, made rookie mistakes, and just needed a break.

Over the summer, when I returned to the same place for an attempt at a 50 miler, it was hot.  Well over 100 hot.  I made it to mile 20…I guess that’s saying something.

This year, I was determined to be ready. I trained, with a plan that worked for me. Mileage goals…mixed with long runs. Enough wiggle room for life. Lots of back to back OrangeTheory classes.  And it was good. I ran more miles in January 2018 than either January 2017 or 2016.  And, the miles came easy, other than a few tough days (we all have them ;)), I didn’t have to fight for them. I just ran. A lot. Smarter than I had in the past. Stronger. Maybe faster.

And then I started tracking the weather. First it was maybe wet and cold. Then most likely wet and cold. Followed by definitely. Shortly followed by colder…colder enough to snow. Then definitely cold and snow. 500 feet higher, and I’d be looking at a run through a blizzard.  I’m pretty sure there’s a few thunderstorms thrown in there too.  Awesome.  Exactly what I was hoping for.  Or, more like everything I wasn’t.

So…what now?

I’ve come this far…and spent too many mornings training before the sun came up to walk away now.  So, I’ll take the advice from 2016 to heart.  Staring down 2016’s rain-pocolypse, the best advice I got was to plan for it.  Expect it to pour…expect traffic to be bad…expect to get in late and wake up early.  Take the waterproof camera.  Have fun with it.  And I did.  Made the three turned five hour drive. Enjoyed Carl’s Jr. instead of my typical pre-race pasta. It was a wet, muddy, slog through the forest…I got soaked, got dirty, took pictures, made friends…and somewhere in there ran my fastest 50k ever.

So, for 2018’s race-pocolypse (cause what else do you call a race where you’ll freeze, it will probably rain, it might snow, and it might thunder), I’ll bundle up, bring the waterproof camera…plan to laugh, hopefully make some friends.  Maybe enjoy some more Carl’s Jr. And who knows, maybe I need terrible weather to have a good race.

Life is either a daring adventure….or nothing at all.  And, I suppose if all else fails, I do miss thunder storms, and I can always stop and build a few snowmen along the way.

T-Minus 3 Weeks & Counting…

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When did it become the end of March?  When did Lake Sonoma become three weeks away?  Why do I not feel more ready?

Since I hadn’t seen the course since last year’s race, I decided to head out to Lake Sonoma for my first long training run post-Way Too Cool.  While I didn’t remember the exact exit, I did remember how to get there once I got off the exit.  Once I got there (exit 505, by the way), it was like an old friend welcoming me back.  I passed the spot just before 101 south that we pulled over last year so Brian could dig out some sprite for me…also the place I puked at mile 61, but minor detail ;).

I got to the rec area and found Liberty Glen without a problem.  I passed by the familiar sites of no-name flat and the marina along the way (the turn-around and the start/finish).  I was even able to confirm with a ranger that I could park there for the day while I ran.  It was surprisingly sunny, so I smeared on some sunscreen, through on my ankle braces and shoes, and I was off. Shortly before I left, I realized the car key I’ve been unable to find was in my running pack….great!  Of course, that meant the pocket wasn’t full of food…not so great.  Oh well, I had two Gu packets….should be fine for the ten miles I’d plan to run before I stopped back at my car.

I made one small detour before I got on the course….the trails are rarely used and not marked in too many places.  It didn’t take me long to find some pink and black ribbons, indicating the course, most likely left from last weekend’s training run.  Once I was on the course, it was a simple out and back to the turn around, which should’ve been about five miles.

Except, it wasn’t…or I overran it.  Really, I overran it.  I thought I saw it, but thought it was too quick or something.  Looking at the map now, it actually wasn’t.  Of course, I didn’t know that…so I kept going.  Decided if I didn’t see the turn around by seven miles, I’d turn then.  Would mean I was more than halfway to the twenty I’d planned when I got back to my aid station/car.  I ate my last gu shortly before I turned around.  Seven miles back to the car, I could make that….usually, I can do about ten miles before I NEED food.  And, I had plenty of water….

So, back I went…or so I thought.  I kept watch on the mileage, and knew I’d be back at my car somewhere between mile 13 and 15, depending on how long my early detour was….somewhere around mile 11, the water was gone.  Well, I’d survived three miles straight up Mt. Diablo in August sans water, I could do three or four of rolling hills at 60 degrees (30-40 degrees cooler than Diablo).  But, mile 14 came and went, so did 15….and as much as everything looked the same, this part of the trail didn’t necessarily, but was still oddly familiar.

I was lost.  For those of you playing the at home game, I’m now out of food, out of water, and lost.  Add to that a really tight right leg.  This wasn’t good.  But of course I continued down the hill.  And down some more.  And then more.  And then I knew this wasn’t right.

I wasn’t sure that the outcrop trail was the right way to go, but at least it looked like it led to the road.  So, I start d making my way back up.  I ran into a couple of hikers, and asked them if they knew which trail would lead up to Liberty Glen….they said there was a campground, but they didn’t think it was Liberty Glen.  However, they did confirm I could get up to the road.

So, now up, up, and up some more I went.  What I wouldn’t give for some water.  Luckily, there’s plenty of water all over since the lake has been flooded all spring.  Of course, stream water was really a last resort.  I was so glad to see the outcrop trail about half a mile up the trail.  Looking back on my day at that point, I realized outcrop trail is probably the name for the trail heading up to the road, rather than a trail itself.  Anyway, I headed up that trail, which was up a rather steep hill, but there were campers at the top, and Liberty Glen is the only campground you can drive into.  So, I was hopeful.  Worst case, maybe someone would be able to give me directions and spare some water.

I got to the top of the hill and saw Slimer.  I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see my car.  And water.  And food.  Ended up with 16 miles…short of the 20 I wanted, but hopefully the mental training pays off…at least that’s what I tell myself.

Today brought a ten mile turned 10k shakeout run.  Ugh is my right leg tight.  Which of course just adds to the pre-race stress.  For as many times as I remind myself that I’ve done this before and can do it again, there are just as many thoughts about how few ‘good runs’ I’ve had, how WTC went so much better last year, how tight my right leg is, etc., etc….which makes me wonder if I can actually do it again.  I mean, I’d like to think it can’t get worse than last year, but….famous last words….Sigh…I can do this, right?

Until next time….

Well, it was better than North Face – WTC Race Report

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After more training runs in the rain than I can count, race number one of spring race season was here.  I felt…unprepared…not as unprepared as North Face, but not nearly as ready as I was last year.  I’m not even really sure why…probably that hip injury and the four months I took off from running had something to do with it.  But, that’s life…

Getting to the race was way easier than last year.  I have the ability to work from home a couple of days a month, so we left just after noon and I worked on the way to Auburn.  Wayyyyy less traffic.  Took just over three hours compared to the five plus it took last year.  Of course,  last year the world would’ve ended if I worked remotely, so couldn’t leave the South Bay until 3:30, but that’s a story for another day ;).

We got to Auburn and headed right to Auburn Running Company so I could pick up my bib.  Number 600, that’s fun.  Then we quickly checked into the hotel, the same Super 8 as last year and I’m pretty sure the same room.  We grabbed dinner at Auburn Brewing Company (much better than the highway side Carl’s Jr.).  It was delicious – nothing like pre-race mac and cheese and some good beer to match.  Wendell, Leng and the kids joined us later on, so it became a nice dinner with friends. Fun way to chill out and relax away the pre-race nerves.

Since we already had our bibs, Leng and I were less concerned with getting to the start super early.  Brian was also with me this year, so I wasn’t as worried about a long hike to the car post-race  either.  This meant we didn’t need to leave until 6:30, we could get up at 6.  A delicacy on a race morning.

Getting to the race was easy…easier than I remember.  And, parking wasn’t too crazy either.  We had about an hour before the race started, but stayed in the car as long as possible – it was freezing out!  No rain this year, but way colder than I remember.

A quick stop at the porta-potty and it was time to start.  I said quick hello’s to Brazen Mike from last year and Leng and I took a fun photo with Penny and her chicken.  The first mile and a half passed pretty quickly, though not as quickly as last year, I later learned.

Miles 1-8

The first eight miles are all pretty much on single track, winding in a circle back to the fire station.  I remember this part last year, and how it forced me to keep running (not necessarily a bad thing).  This year, there was some running, but for some reason, I remember it being more congested than before…there were certain points traffic just stopped.  Somewhere around mile three, I noticed the shirtless kamikaze descender man from last year.  Good news – he was in front of me.  If there’s someone that’s going to fly down the hill and possibly take people down, the best place for them is in front of you.  But, I ended up passing him and didn’t see him again.

The trails were very much like I remembered them, the knee (now thigh) deep water was still there, it was overall pretty runable, and before I knew it, I was back at the start getting high-fives from Brian, Wendell and the kids.  I grabbed some food and electrolytes from the aid station, chatted with Brian a bit, and I was off.  The music playing as I ran reverse through the finish line got me going again, and I was on my way to the quarry.

Miles 8 – 13.1

The path down to the quarry was also much like I remembered it, but far less treacherous than it seemed last year.  I also felt like I was in no man’s land for most of the three miles, which was odd considering there were over 900 runners.  I got to the highway crossing and down into the quarry, and found a bunch of other runners.

I made it a point to run more through the quarry this year, which resulted in slower mile splits.  I was still about a mile and a half ahead of where I’d planned to be, so whatever, I’ll take it.  After what seemed like forever, I saw ‘aloha’ signs and around the corner was the next aid station.  I grabbed some electrolytes (who knew they had tea flavored and that it would taste good?), Sprite, and snacks, thanked the volunteers, and I was off.  Before I left one of the ladies asked if I wanted my pack refilled.  I told her I thought I was good…a decision that became a rookie mistake and impacted the rest of my day.

Miles 13.1 – 21

Two-ish miles after the aid station, you start the climb out of the quarry.  Last year, I remember feeling like I was done somewhere around mile 19.  This year, I wanted to be done around mile 17 and was out of water by mile 18.  Not good…not good at all.  I also started to feel the acid reflux fun I’d experienced during Lake Sonoma come back.  And I thought I might break Coach Lindsay’s no puking in the gym rule, but, it was three miles to the aid station.  Three miles, three miles, I can do this….then, two miles…two miles, I’ve got this….so on and so forth, until I was making my way down the steep hill to the mile 21 aid station.  I felt my knee hyperextend just before I got to the bottom…luckily, no damage done, and the guys behind me gave me a friendly warning to be careful.

I was so glad to be at an aid station.  They helped me refill my pack (even though I couldn’t get it open), gave me some broth, and hooked me up with Vaseline (damn chaffing).  I didn’t stay too long before I bit the forest oasis goodbye and headed towards the infamous Goat Hill.

Miles 21 – 26

The next few miles passed as a blur…nothing too noteworthy about them, and I remember being frustrated I wasn’t at Goat Hill yet.  And then I hit what I thought was Goat Hill…except it was some random course reroute.  Up a mini Goat Hill in preparation for the bigger one.  Finally getting to Goat Hill, it was definitely tougher than I remembered it being.  I still didn’t stop going up it, but definitely slower than last year.

I hit the aid station, no Larry this year, but I did get some more broth and a salted potato, along with some liquids and Vaseline, before I was on my way.  So ready to be done….

Miles 26 – Finish

Leaving mile 26, I was able to run more than last year, I think…but still overall slower.  I met a couple of ladies who asked me if this was the hardest 50k I’d done….unfortunately no.  It just didn’t seem like it was my day.

More trails, a few creeks, and a lot of mud later, I hit the last aid station.  Not sure why there’s one so close to the end, but I didn’t stop there this year and just jogged through with a wave.

Coming out of that aid station is about a mile of trail that rivals the dipsea, but without the stairs.  Just what you want at mile 30…short, steep, climbs.  That part ends with about a half mile that winds to the finish line.  30.5 miles, just over eight hours (40 minutes slower than last year :(), and a lot of ‘am I there yet’ moments, I’d finished my second Way Too Cool.

So, with one finish under my belt, I look towards Lake Sonoma.  Where last year, Cool was the vote of confidence heading into my first successful 50 miler, this year, I think it was a wake-up call.  I need more long runs…probably more double days at the gym.  I’m not even sure I care about getting faster at the moment (let’s be honest, if I mearly run after mile 32 at Lake Sonoma, I’ll be in better shape), but I do want to do as much prep as I can so it’s a good experience for as long as possible.  Here’s to an extra week of training runs, more long runs, and hopefully a good race at Sonoma.

It’s Raining, It’s Pouring….It Must be Spring Race Season….

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So, here we are…a year after this post and nearly a year after this one.  I’d love to say that I’m in a better place, that I’m a stronger runner, that I came back from the hip injury and the North Face and got it together and got trained…I guess to some extent, I did.

While my overall mileage leaves something to be desired, I did get my workouts in as planned.  Who knew it would be so difficult to get in 40 miles without a trail behind the office?  And having only one day to run most weekends.  And the rain…who could forget the rain.

I do have two 16 milers under my belt…last year, I only had one.  And, I have a handful of back to back Orange Theory workouts in too.  The team at Mission Bay has been great with helping me train – double classes, class and a half, extra tread work.  Last year, the thought of more than an hour would have been enough to do me in.  This year, 5am and 6:15….or 6:15 and 7:30…BRING IT.  A Tornado workout with a double treadmill block (rather than the knee-breaking rower)…I’m all over that.  At least until we hit the 6% incline.  Hopefully the early mornings (ass kickings) and double workouts payoff where the overall mileage is lacking.

But, I’m still nervous.  After the hip injury and the holidays and the plague and more plague, I was more out of shape than I realized.  I hadn’t gotten on a scale in…I don’t know how long.  When I did, it wasn’t good.  I’m still running slower than I was last year.  But, I’m running…so I have that going for me.

Overall, I’d like to be faster than I was last year.  Early weather predictions don’t show any rain, so I have that going for me too (or maybe not…I’m not sure I know what to do with myself if it doesn’t pour).  While my overall pieces of the race might not be faster than last year, there are places on the course that I didn’t run very much last year and I’d like to change that this year (read, the really flat portion between miles 12 and 18).   And, the last six or so were so muddy last year, they were pretty much un-runable by the time I got there.  If both of those change, but the rest holds constant, I should be fine.  Right?

Once I get there and get going, I’m sure I’ll be fine.  Anyone who has been to one of these Ultra/Ironman-ish things with me knows how much fun I am on race morning.  Ugh..race morning on a long day.  I don’t think there’s anything worse…well…there’s lots worse, but I digress.  Leng is running this year, so I’ll have a friend at the start line…that will be fun.

So, here we go…spring race season.  May this year be better than the last.  May they both be fun…well, as fun as a 50k and 50 mile race can be.  I’m as ready as I’m going to be…after three more Orange Theories and some weekend miles….I’ve got this….

But, is it wrong that I’m already looking forward to my post-race cupcake and Sufferfest Beer?

Follow the Blue and Beware the Seams on Your Pants – North Face 50k Race Report

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So, final race of an interesting year. A year that brought me a 50k PR, a 50 mile finish (after two years of trying), and 10k PR. Of course there was that hip thing that kept me out of running for several months at the end of the year too. Great set-up for my last race…
Anyway. Before I even get into things, I knew I was under-trained (my longest run was 27 miles…split up over two days). I knew this was North Face, and it had given me issues for the past two years. But, I also knew the trails…and I’d been really good about getting my butt kicked at the gym at least four days a week. Still, I didn’t think I’d be in for anything easy.

The start was pretty typical of an ultra. Well, one like Way Too Cool rather than Lake Sonoma. Lots of people gathering…heat lamps…fire pits. Unlike every other year we’ve run this race, it wasn’t freezing. It wasn’t raining. It wasn’t wet. It was…actually quite nice out. Weird for this race. No rain, no mud, no cold. What was going on?

As it got close to start time, the announcer started getting everyone lined up. Lots of people still checking bags…tip – make sure to check your bag early. I ran into one of the guys from Coastal Trails…he’d started the 50, but decided not to continue. He was hanging out, waiting for the line to clear so he could get his bag.

The announcer had us introduce ourselves to the person next to us, which was interesting since half the field had their headphones in already. After that, we were pretty much off. The first few miles passed as I expected…rolling a bit at the beginning, but quickly climbing up Miwok. Forever. Since they changed the course this year, there was some additional climbing beyond what I knew as typical. We didn’t make the quick left down Old Springs, but continued on up Miwok and down Marincello. Thanks Miwok stables…loved the additional climbing.

Honestly, it wasn’t that bad…I’ve done it before and met a couple of fellow runners along the way. And then we were headed down Marincello. A hill I’m familiar climbing up, but not so much running down. But, I quickly found that I really liked running down this hill as much as I love hiking up it. It’s a gentle slope…it’s a fire road. It was mile 4ish. Perfect for my untrained, skittish, descender self. And, much to my surprise, I passed a bunch of people on the way down. Being so skittish, this never happens. If I pass anyone, it’s on the way up and I usually get passed again on the way down. Unfortunately, I didn’t see many of them again. Not sure if they never passed me again or if we missed each other at aid stations…hopefully everyone finished.

I got to the bottom of the hill feeling good and Brian was waiting for me. I grabbed a cup of tailwind, which I hadn’t had before, but was actually pretty good, some water, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I pulled over for a bit to chat and realized I’d somehow picked up the one sandwich made with the heel of the bread….only me.

After that, it was off to Muir Beach. The climb up Coastal wasn’t too bad, but I anticipated it being easier not going into Pirate’s Cove. However, I was unpleasantly surprised to find I was wrong. We actually got to climb some of Coyote Ridge and a back part of Fox Trail on our way to the trail that would finally take us down into Muir Beach. Then, down we went…I wish I wasn’t so skittish….and of course the whole time going down, all I could think was…at some point I have to go back up….

I quickly passed through the Muir Beach aid station…grabbed a Mt. Dew (not a bad race drink, but other than that, the Dew can stay in my college years ;)), some tailwind, and another sandwich. Then I comfortably jogged my way to Redwood Creek Trail. Well….I looked down and I was comfortably jogging at an 8:50 pace. Thanks, Orange Theory. Of course my aid station stop is included in that time, so it didn’t do much for me overall. Haha.

As I hit Heather Cut-off, I ran into the 50 mile sweepers….I’m pretty sure one of them has been the same guy for the past three years. Anyway, shortly after that, I passed the last 50 miler, a man from Iowa, I think he said. In him, I could see myself a few years ago. As I left Cardiac, he still hadn’t made it up there. I also passed a woman who’d been stung on the ankle by a bee…so not fun, and another place I saw myself. She assured me she was fine, and she did pass me later, so luckily, she was good to go.

My slog up to Cardiac wasn’t too bad, I remembered slogging up there last year…feeling like crap and running into Liz and Van, and listening to Becca chat about NYC to make the miles go faster. On the other hand, I guess it wasn’t that great either…somewhere along there, I realized the seams on my pants were starting to tear into the skin on the back of my legs. And…what bothers you at mile 12 is going to be unbearable come mile 32….

At the Cardiac aid station, I asked three different people for Vaseline, but finally got some. Ahhh….relief. I’m sure I looked silly, but…there are no rules in the woods. I grabbed a pb&j, tailwind, and Mt. Dew, but knew I was needed some salt (thank you acid reflux fun…). Luckily, they had salt…unfortunately, no potatoes to dip in it. Awesome….and the 50 milers were just hitting their second pass. Bad time to be out of that. But, we’re in the woods, so we make do with what we have. I ripped my sandwich in half and dipped it in the salt. Salty pb&j, interesting vessel to get salt in, but it seemed to work.

Then it was down into Muir Woods, my least favorite part of the course. The part with not only steep, rocky, twiggy, descents, but also a place where if you fall, you can get gored by tree stumps and whatever else is on the ground. Perfect if you’re already a skittish descender. I think the marathon may be my race of choice next year solely because I wouldn’t have to run through Muir Woods.

The Old Inn Aid Station greeted us at the end of Muir Woods. Shortly before we hit the aid station, we hit some stairs on the famed dipsea trail. This guy let me and another lady pass him, before tearing down the stairs past us like he was going to win. Really dude? First, not going to win. Pretty sure they finished hours ago. And second, we would’ve let you go. You were ahead of us to begin with…

Just before the aid station, there was a pack of 50 milers coming up the hill at me…I was…confused. On either course, no one should be running up this hill. Did I miss a turn? If I went farther than I needed to without Vaseline, I was going to be sad. They told me I was fine, so I kept heading down. No idea what they were doing.

Anyway…as I jogged to the aid station, I passed the medic and thought…haha, I’m not hanging out with you this year. I asked them for Vaseline and they had to find my old friend who drove me to Tennessee Valley last year to find it. She seemed far less crazy this year, but no less busy. She handed me Vaseline and walked away. Another volunteer watched me take gobs of it with my hand and rub it all over where my pants were eating my skin. I’m not sure what the look on her face was saying…shock…disdain…really? You’re at an aid station for an ultra. If me sticking Vaseline down my pants is the worst thing you’ve seen all day, consider yourself lucky.

I headed off, joking with another volunteer…something about a second pass, and me not wanting to come back. There was no second pass, and I didn’t need to. I began the flat jog back to Muir Beach…alternating between a walk to catch my breath and my new 9ish (some times under, sometimes over) comfortable pace. Aside from my chafed up body, I was getting pretty sore. Yup, should’ve gotten in more training.

Where the road to Muir Beach was easy, the road out of Muir Beach was anything but. Even if we didn’t have to climb all the way up Coyote Ridge, it was still brutal. I made friends with a couple of other runners as we made our way out…they were chatting about the big marathons (Boston, NYC, Berlin, London, Tokyo and one other I don’t remember) and wondered how many hills we had left, I said two…one of the guys said, in addition to this one (he was local too)? I said no, this one and another…it counts until it’s over.

The top of the hill brought the steep descent of Fox trail into Tennessee Valley. At this point, muscles I’d forgotten I had were hurting. And I really needed another dose of Vaseline to handle the chaffing. But, I made it down. Oh, Vaseline was insight. And then Brian came jogging down Tennessee Valley road towards me. Hooray for a surprise! He figured he wouldn’t be able to drive between TV and the finish, but he definitely could run it, especially if he knew the short cuts.

And there wasn’t any Vaseline. Ugh….I had body glide in my pack, so I pulled over and tried to use that. Not the end of the world, I guess, but certainly not ideal. The good news was that I got to see Shannon, the aid station captain that took care of me last year…yeah hypothermic and taking over the shuttle. Haha. Great to see her and I wasn’t blue this year, so I had that going for me.

Then it was time for the final slog up Marincello. Which usually I don’t mind, but I was just done with this race at that point. One of the other runners asked if it was straight uphill to the next aid station. Right…Alta. I’d forgotten about that aid station.

The rest of the race was pretty much a blur of me wishing it was over and continuing to put one foot in front of the other. There were places I thought, hey, maybe I should run here. And then telling myself walking hurt slightly less, and I was so far behind, did I really care? Nope, I did not.

One foot in front of the other, one aid station, and one seemingly never ending stretch to the finish line later, it was over. I’d finished North Face. I may have been walking like a cowboy and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be wearing jeans for day (confirmed), but I finished. Brian brought my Vaseline, so I coated some of that on before we walked to the car. Of course as I did, two of the runners I’d met on the course walked by and stopped to say congratulations….one of them apologized for catching me mid-Vaseline application. I laughed and said…it’s all good, there are no rules in the woods….

So…on to the spring. Here’s to luck with the race lotteries and if not, enjoying two ‘b’ races. Here’s to a year of being injury free and able to train like I should…it’s much more fun when it happens that way.

Third Time’s the Charm – Lake Sonoma 50 Race Report

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“It’s impossible”, said Pride. “It’s risky”, said Experience. “It’s pointless”, said Reason. “Give it a try”, whispered the Heart. – unknown

Wow…where to even begin.  I could begin with the North Face DNF’s, which led me to try a different race….I could start with the race weather, rain rain and more rain….I could start with the irony of finding out I got into the race on a day I had the flu and was struggling to keep gatorade down.  But, I think I’ll start with a quote I saw online from running club coach, Mike Fanelli.

“I tell our runners to divide the race into thirds. Run the first part with your head, the middle part with your personality, and the last part with your heart.”

Well, before we go there, I will forewarn everyone that parts of this might be TMI.  But, that’s ultra running and I might as well be honest.

A couple of other miscellaneous logistical details for anyone reading this and doing the race/considering the race.  We stayed at the Wine Country Inn & Suites in Cloverdale.  Great hotel, seemed like it may have been recently remodeled.  When I checked in, they were very nice and gave us a complimentary upgrade to a suite.  We had dinner at Piacere Ristorante Italiano…one of the only restaurants in Cloverdale, but it was amazing.  Quaint, family run, restaurant, and everyone was so friendly…and the food was delicious.  As I ate all of my garlic bread, fettuccine alfredo, and chicken, I was glad I had 50 miles to burn it off the next day.  Haha!

Anyway, on to the race….

“Divide the race into thirds”

Over the past week I did a lot of thinking about the quote and my race plan and how I would divide the race.  Somehow, I knew even thirds wouldn’t work for me.  If I was going to get through 50 miles and 11,000+ feet of elevation solo, I had to do it differently.

My first third was really a half – the first 25 miles.  The next third was about 13 miles, and would take me to the cursed mile 38.  The last third was the 12 miles from there to the finish.  I figured if I could get through the cut-off at mile 38, I would make it to the finish.

“Run the first part with your head” 

Checking in, dropping my drop bags, and getting ready were pretty uneventful.  As the time for the race to start drew closer, everyone was just kind of milling about, waiting for Tropical John to get us going.  He directed everyone up to the road, and pretty quickly after that – we were off.

The first 2.3 miles were on the paved road.  Not my favorite…well, not my knee’s favorite, but it did allow the field to spread out.  I jogged the downhills and hiked the uphills.  At one point, another runner commented on how he was having to jog to keep up with my hike.  haha…here we go again.  I can be known in the ultra community as the fast hiker.  I like it.

Jumping onto the trail was a nice relief from the pavement, and while the field had thinned out, there were still plenty of people around.  Some passed me….some I passed.  I recognized some of them from Way Too Cool in March.  Kind of fun to see the same people and get to know them.  One of the ladies I met there, recognized me as the ‘fast hiker’ from Way Too Cool.  I got her started again at that Cool and later on in evening when Brian was waiting for me to finish before the cut-off, she (after running 50 miles) was ready to back track on the trails and make sure I got in before the cut-off.

The first 18 miles passed in a blur…there were the water only aid stations at Island View and Wulfow, I was 20 minutes early to meet Brian at Warm Springs where we uneventfully swapped out my pack, and there was at least one river crossing.  Oh the river crossings….if we weren’t old friends yet, we definitely are now.  And I’ve learned to handle them like a bull in a china shop….tear right through.  No time to skip from rock to rock.  And it’s raining….we’re wet anyway.

I hit the Madrone aid station and spent a little more time there than I should have.  I didn’t realize that the crews were at the top of the hill and the aid station was at the bottom, and I thought maybe I’d gotten ahead of Brian or something.  So I had the volunteers fill my bag, I had some coke and a sandwich, and was on my way up the hill.

And good god, the hills.  I had trained on all of them at least once and they weren’t that bad.  But in the race….wow.  Rough.  And the weird acid-like-puke-whatever it is that I get sometimes chose that moment to come to life.  Awesome.  I stopped to see Brian at the top of the hill…yay for Brian and the top of the hill.  But, I was pretty much good to go since I’d refilled at the aid station below.  So, off I went, acid issue in tow.

The trail between Madrone and the turn around continued to roll, though the ups and downs were longer.  There were only three large hills on elevation profile, but I feel like I only remember two of them.  The climb out of Madrone was definitely the worst, and I’m glad it wasn’t the warm, sunny day I had been wishing for.  The faster runners had also started their journey back from the turn around at this point, so watching for them and cheering them on kept me occupied while I continued to climb and attempt to keep the acid at bay.

By the time I got to the turn around, I was ready for something….I wasn’t sure what, but definitely something.  Brian was there and he refilled my pack and electrolyte bottle.  Asked if I wanted to sit for a minute, but I decided not to.  I was pretty sure if I sat down, I wasn’t getting back up.  At some point, one of the volunteers handed me my drop bag.  I didn’t need it, but one less thing to try to collect later.  Since the broth was so amazing during Way Too Cool, I asked if there was any broth.  Sadly, there wasn’t.  No salted potatoes either.  So I had a couple of potato chips and headed back out.

“Run the middle part with your personality”

Despite feeling awful, I decided I was going to try to have fun on the way back.  While I knew I was currently moving fast enough to finish, I knew that the worse I felt, the slower I was going to move…hopefully some fun would keep me moving faster.

I chatted with another runner climbing out of the aid station – she had a rough first half, but was feeling better and was on her way shortly.  I could only hope that I’d start feeling better soon.  Coming out of the larger rollers, I was back to a swamp like piece of trail full of wet mud.  It had tried to take my shoe on the way out, but luckily, I won.  I tried to be careful crossing it the second time, but apparently my luck had run out.  The mud tried to take my shoe again, which thankfully, it didn’t.  It did however, make sure to hold tight to one shoe so when my other foot slid, there was nowhere to go but down.  Awesome.  I love falling in the mud at mile 27…28?  I’m not sure.  Well, nothing to do but get up, try to shake out my shoes and wipe off my hands (turns out clothing makes a great towel….).

A short while later, another runner came up behind me.  She told me that I was awfully muddy.  Yup, sure am…that’s what happens when you fall in the mud….we chatted about making the cut-offs (we thought we’d be ok if we made the 4:30 at Warm Springs), how fast I was walking, and how she was hoping there were still quesadillas at the next aid station.

I was welcomed back into Madrone by Brian holding a cup of warm broth.  Amazing….so thankful there was a crew with some to spare.  As I took the cup, I looked at him and said, ‘I fell in the mud’….he told me it looked like it and asked if I wanted different shoes.  I didn’t want to stop, so took one last sip of the broth and headed down the giant hill I’d climbed up a few miles ago.

I don’t really remember the miles between Madrone and Warm Springs….I remember the guys at Wulfow telling me and the lady I’d met shortly before Madrone that we had plenty of time to make the 4:30 cut-off.  I remember getting so sick of the acid that I finally decided to stop and see what would happen if I gave in and threw it up.  It worked…sort of.  It at least went away for a few minutes after that.  And so began my last 18 miles.  Hike the uphills, jog the downhills, throw up….rinse, repeat….and is it really all that surprising that my lottery of pain ends similar in fashion to how it started?

I jogged down to the Warm Spring aid station with plenty of time before the cut-off.  Brian welcomed me with an open can of Sprite (come on Sprite…save the day) and my headlamp.  I took the Sprite while he secured the headlamp in my bag.  After that, I was quickly on my way.  I was still nervous about finishing on time, but everyone assured me I could do it.  That put some spring back in my step and I jogged out of the aid station, down a hill and across a creek.

“Run the last part with your heart”

The last twelve were definitely the toughest.  Which they should be, but the acid puking continued…it might have even gotten worse, I don’t really know.  At some point I tried Pepto and that didn’t really help.  I just know I was ready to be done.  I was hoping for local wildlife to eat me….or a boar hunter (or anyone) to shoot me.  I desperately wanted to quit, but somehow, kept putting one foot in front of the other.  I thought of everything I’ve done in the past that was tougher or hurt more….I thought of the times I wasn’t able to finish and how this time, I was going to…I thought of all the training; the early mornings, the late nights…but most of all, I just thought about being done.  I thought that the description of the course – relentlessly rolling, was more than accurate….and while it was trying to get the best of me, guess what course…I’m relentless too.  So, I pressed on, climbing over downed trees….ducking under them….why did it seem like there were more going back than there were on the way out?

Soon after leaving Warm Springs, I realized that the wet clothes had taken their toll on my skin.  My stomach was chafed….the back of my legs were chafed.  Just ouch.  And of course I had ten or eleven miles left to go and no more drop bags or crew to pass.  Well, my choices were limited, since I’m pretty sure running without clothes is frowned upon…and cold, so on I went.  I did stop at one point to reapply body glide right there on the trail.  I think it was past the point of being helped though.  Luckily, I wouldn’t find out how bad it was until I was home.  Not good…

Sometime shortly after discovering the chafing, I was hiking along and stepped on some muddy rocks.  I was fine, but they seemed to be stuck in my shoe…awesome.  And of course I couldn’t get whatever it was off.  So I had to stop.  And try to pull whatever out of my shoe. Except there wasn’t anything stuck there.  It was rubber from the bottom of my shoe.  Apparently two wet, muddy, river crossing – filed, races were too much for it and it broke.  Well, great.   I can’t have rubber hanging off my shoe, that seems like the fast track to tripping.  So, here I am in the woods, trying to use one foot to step on the rubber and tear it off the other.  How I managed to rip it off and not fall, I don’t know.  Only me.  Not wanting to litter, I shoved the muddy piece of shoe in my pack with the gu.  At that point, I wasn’t eating much anyway.  Stupid shoe…stupid timing.  Again, no more drop bags or crew to pass, where I had extra shoes.  Of course….

After far too long, I made it down to the Island View aid station.  Down another hill that of course I’d have to come back up.  I got down and checked in with a guy who could’ve been Alan Alda’s brother.  He let me know I was going to finish and congratulated me.  Only 4.7 to go from here.  Asked me if my stomach was ok….I let him know it hadn’t been since mile 30.  He asked if I was puking….I let him know only since mile 32.  He gave me some coke and let me know that it happens sometimes.  He asked if I was #297….I told him that sounded right.  I was #279…..yeah running delirium….

On my way in and out of Island View, I did see some other runners.  It was nice to remember I wasn’t out there alone after being in no man’s land for so long.  Though, they were all ahead of me…I was pretty sure I was DFL.  Except I wasn’t.  Close, but not quite haha…

Somewhere between Island View and the finish, I fished out my headlamp.  I think it was right around the 48 mile mark.  I also passed a spectator around the same time who congratulated me, cheered me on, and let me know how far I had to go.  The trail to the finish line felt pretty treacherous in the dark, even with a headlamp.  I ran this trail on the first training run I did at Lake Sonoma, and it was a lot of zigging and zagging around rocks in the light, much more of an adventure in the dark.  I reminded myself that I’d swept Dipsea in the dark…and if I did that, I could handle the mile or so that was left of this.  I’d done 49 already.  What was one more.

I saw the finish line in the distance, and then heard it before I got there.  I wanted to run it in, but didn’t want to start too early….I didn’t want to add the finish line to the list of places I’d puked.  The finish was a little confusing, and I’m sure I was delirious, so that didn’t help…but I came out of the woods, unsure of which way to go. It was only around some bushes, so not a huge deal….but, it was late, I was tired, and literally 200m away.  I tiredly asked a volunteer for help, and she directed me around the bushes (there was a small flag there, which up until then had meant don’t go this way….) and to the red light that was the finish.  The one time you want to go towards the light.  So around I went and over to the finish.  I remember someone telling me to watch out for a concrete barrier a few seconds before I actually saw it…thank you headlamp.

Then, it was on to the finish line flags.  And, despite my late finish, there was a decent sized crowd to cheer me in.  I heard Brian cheering for me and saw Tropical John standing by clock, but for some reason I didn’t know where to stop.  Where do I stop?  I asked.  Brian told me to keep going and Tropical John (and his wife?) held up their hands to high-five me as I came in.  Holy shit….I did it.  After so many times where I thought I wouldn’t….or couldn’t and an entire day of not being sure I’d actually make it in.  After two failed North Face attempts, I finished a race with more elevation and without a pacer.  A fall, a lot of puking, a broken shoe, and 13:51:55 later, I had actually done it.  I was pretty sure there would be tears…either tears of joy if I actually finished or tears of sorrow if I didn’t.  But, there weren’t.  I was really just thankful to finally stop moving.  I got my awesome swag (Marissa was right….this race really does have the best stuff), turned down the food, and headed for the car.  It was time for the wet, chaffing clothes to go away….and really time to go home.

All throughout the race, all I could think about was how I was never doing this again.  The 50k was fun.  Nothing about this was fun after mile….20 or so.  But, today is a new day, and despite a couple of issues, I still finished.  My legs actually felt fine…so I was trained…I was ready.  I was ahead of where I wanted to be until mile 25.  Had I not had the acid issues, maybe I would have stayed there.  I feel way better today than I did after my first marathon….than after the Honolulu Marathon.  At those times, who knew I’d ever want to go twice that distance.  So, let’s not rule doing it again out.  I mean, it will be awhile…maybe a year.  But Lake Sonoma happens every spring….

Thanks to Tropical John and the volunteers for putting on a great race.  Huge thanks to Brian for crewing and spending hours in the rain to cheer me on.  Being able to count on a friendly face at five different points on the course was amazing.  Thank you to my friends who spent time over the past few weeks talking me off the race ledge and assuring me that I could, in fact, do this.  And to the team at Orange Theory for kicking my butt and helping me get strong enough to finish, despite some race craziness.

“Impossible is Nothing” – Muhammad Ali

It’s Raining, it’s Pouring, it’s the Perfect Time to Break in New Running Shoes

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So, it’s recovery week.  Sort of.  I had planned to take the first half of the week off from working out and try to relax after the race.  But, by Tuesday I was a little (ok, a lot) stir crazy and decided taking an Orange Theory class a few days early wouldn’t hurt me.  And then I took three this week…yup….that’s my sort of recovery.  Well, my sort of recovery when I have five weeks until a 50-mile race.  I love that the only thing I can remember winning is my lottery of pain…

Anyway, after my three Orange Theory’s (for the record, I made it until halfway through the last one before I REALLY started feeling it and was pretty sure my body was all sorts of revolting), I headed out for my weekly run.  Taking it easy this week, I only planned 10 miles.  I mean, it’s been pouring off and on, but what would a rainy day be without me running in it.  And, what could be a better time to break in some new shoes.

I went and got a long overdue haircut (recovery week = time to do all the things I never have time to do), and headed out to Montara Mountain/San Pedro Valley Park in Pacifica. I ran the second loop of the Coastal race I worked last month. I ran the steep, hilly, first part in early Feb, and it’s recovery week, so I opted to skip that piece. 

Despite the rain, it was pretty fun. Nepali flat….a little bit up, a little bit down – in this case, a mile up, mile down…two miles up, two miles down. Aside from some minimal soreness, I felt good. Almost like I could have gone further than the 10k I finished with…but it’s recovery week, and I was done for the day. I had enjoyed my six miles in the rain, and…yeah. Me and the rain. It was real, it was fun, it wasn’t real fun. I mean, like last weekend, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be and I didn’t really notice, but I’m good with running in the rain now.  I did have a chuckle at the hiker that stopped me to ask where the clearing/shelter was….dude, you’re on the side of a mountain in the windy rain, what did you expect?

I spent the rest of the weekend doing fun things…Brian and I went to Wicked on Saturday night (so good!). And had a mimosa infused brunch on Sunday while we watched it rain. 

But, like all good things, recovery week must come to an end.  Now that it’s officially over, it’s time to set my sights high…on the beast that is Lake Sonoma.  

Current plan:

  • Hit it hard the next two weeks (60-70) miles, back off slightly for a week, and then all out taper for a week before the race.
  • Maintain my current training plan of shorter runs on back to back days, since that seems to be working well for me.  But, increase the distance of the runs.  Something like 25/15 miles rather than 15/10.
  • Continue kicking my butt in Orange Theory classes.  But, increase from two or three each week to three or four.

Hopefully, that gets me to a place I can finish the race.  All other things aside, that’s what I’m looking for.  And, while Way Too Cool was a (huge) vote of confidence, truthfully, I’m terrified.  I don’t have the best track record with the 50 mile distance…or, really any track record at all.  There was the first time….all sorts of sick.  There was the second time…yup, knee the size of a watermelon (but I did get my 50 miles).  There was the third time…hypothermic with the medic at mile 37.

Could this be the first time I’m trained like I should be, and finish the distance?  I hope so.  I feel like I’ve put in so much more than I have in the past.  Almost to the point that I’m not really sure what I was thinking even starting the previous races.  This time…this time I want to finish.  And not be hypothermic with the medic….or hypothermic or in need of a medic (cause, let’s be honest…if you’re hypothermic, you probably need a medic…and with as much as I like breaking myself, there are dozens of other reasons I could be in need of a medic) but, I digress.  First, finishing.  And, if I’m really thinking crazy, maybe I can maintain my 4mph goal pace and finish while it’s still light outside.

Onward and upward….recovery is over….Orange Theory bright and early tomorrow. 

 

 

A Little Rain Never Hurt Anyone…Except the Wicked Witch of the West. WTC 50k Race Report

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First, big thank you to my Aunt Mary for the blog title idea.  Second…I’m not even sure where to begin with this one.  What an epic day – Way Too Cool 50k, my first race since North Face, hopefully the first one I’d finish in over a year, and the first in my lottery of pain this spring.

I could start with the weather predictions I’d been tracking all week, but to make a long story short, it was rain.  All rain, all the time.  I could start with the hellacious drive up here, but again…long story short, it should have taken me three hours.  It took five.  Not fun, and not worth dwelling on.

So, on to the race.  As instructed, I got there early….really early.  The running joke is that I’m always early for the Coastal races (or course marking…and then I get lost, but I digress).  I took this to a new level.  Packet pick-up opened at 6.  I drove in at 5:30, right into some rockstar parking.  I was glad I had the hiking socks, rain boots, and rain jacket with me for the walk to check-in.  It was short, but wet.  They let me check in early and soon I was back in my car for a short nap.  Thank you rain for lulling me back to sleep for a bit.

I woke up an hour later, and to my surprise, it had stopped raining.  And…wait…is that the sun trying to come out?
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In the non-rain, I made my pre-race pit stop….again, being early is key.  No waiting at 7:15.  Then, it was back to my car to figure out what to wear.  I was so afraid of getting too cold and having another issue like North Face, so at first I took my black Marmot jacket and tied it into my pack.  Then, I thought long and hard…it wasn’t raining.  It was pretty warm.  I might need that space to strip off some layers.  So, I left it.  Good decision.  While I didn’t strip off any layers, I definitely didn’t need it.  I headed to the start in my SF Run Company tank, SF Run Company quilted long-sleeved thing that’s usually too hot to run in, a Nike vest (maybe down?), an a white windbreaker (no idea who made that).  Vest and windbreaker were new….so much for the nothing new on race day….staying warm is more important.

So many people at the start line, but I guess that’s what happens when 850+ people run a race.  And, I recognized a lot of them.  But, I guess that’s what happens when you’ve spent weekends working at trail races for a year.  It was great to have several familiar faces to chat with (as well as some new ones) to calm my pre-race nerves.

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Epic Parking.  I was equally close to the finish.

 

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Pre-race….layered up and nervous!

I was so glad it wasn’t raining at the start…I think that would have made it pretty tough to get going.  Once I started running, my nerves turned into energy and I ran the entire way down the pavement (knee, please forgive me) to the trail. The first four or so miles were really congested – single track and lots of people.  Had to go slower than I wanted in some places, but more often, I found myself forced to keep running when in the past I would have walked.  I briefly wondered if this would cause me a problem later in the race, but also thought it might be just what I needed.

While I was glad it wasn’t raining at the start, apparently staying dry wasn’t in the cards.  As I approached mile 2, I could hear people cheering and the entire pack seemed to slow down.  Up ahead was the first of many creek crossings.  Knee deep water.  At mile 2.

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I saw another guy pulling out his phone and decided he has the right idea.  I pulled over to the side and pulled out my water-proof camera.  I mean, if you’re going swimming at mile 2, might as well have some fun with it.  He looked at me and said, “we’re not going to qualify for Boston today, might as well have fun with it”.

The remaining miles of the 8-mile loop passed in a blur and before I knew it, I was back at the start/finish.  I was glad to see an aid station and grabbed some electrolytes and a rice krispie treat (not my favorite race food).  I had been thinking about stripping off a layer, but in the end, decided to keep them all on.  Of course, by now, it had started to rain.

Next aid was only 3ish miles away and mostly downhill.  I was shooting to maintain a 4 mph pace for the entire race, and a quick check on time told me I was about two miles ahead of that.  I decided to worry about the end of the race later and go with it.  So, off I went.  After a little more uphill….down we went.  It was a little sketchy, but I found myself far less skittish than I’ve been in the past.  I hooked on to another runner and followed him down the hill.

I also met a runner who I’ll call Brazen Mike (he had a Brazen Racing hat on, so that’s how I was identifying him before he introduced himself).  We traded places off and on through about mile 15, I think.  Miles 11-15 were probably my least favorite part of the race.  Trail was pretty flat, and they were some of my fastest miles of the day, but I really liked the single track, especially once the crowd had thinned out.  It was also almost completely exposed and it had started to rain harder.  But, the other runners were friendly and we got each other through.

I felt like I spent a lot of time hiking between 11 and 21.  It was rolling and I ran a lot of the downhills and hiked the slight uphills.  At some point, I decided I needed to hike it out for a bit and surprised myself at how fast I could hike.  I kept asking people if they wanted to pass me….and generally, they didn’t.  One guy told me he was going to follow me the rest of the race and let me hike him in at a PR.

Somewhere between 18 or 19 and before the aid station at 21, I started to lose it.  I was tired…and sick of slogging through the mud.  And the creek crossings.  Oh the creek crossings.  Was there ever going to be an end.  I think somewhere in there is where I almost went swimming…thankfully, another runner grabbed my shoulders from behind and kept me upright.  The journey to the aid station seemed very long and I was desperate for some electrolytes.  Or something.  I wasn’t really sure.  Maybe just the desire to be 10 miles from the finish.  But, in typical ultra fashion, the five or six of us grouped together got each other through.  Kudos to the guy who helped me down the very, very steep switch backs to the aid station.  My legs were tired.  I was hurting.  It was slick, steep, and had I been closer to the end, I may have just tried to slide down on my butt.

I thought I might be in trouble, but that aid station was like magic.  First, I realized a two things: one, I was going to blow my previous 50k time out of the water (2014 Tamalpa 50K…8:45).  I was still two miles ahead of my goal pace.  And two, I might actually come in ahead of my goal time.  Then the volunteers gave me chicken broth.  AMAZING.  I shook out my legs, chatted with a couple of the other runners I’d run down there with….one of them told me that if I was an hour ahead of where I’d been before, of course my legs hurt.  Then he reminded me not to waste my hour.

So, off I went.  And that chicken broth….I think it actually was magic.  I got Mathew Wilder’s Break My Stride song stuck in my head, and I just went for it.  Jogged along, barely noticed the pouring rain, passed people (me?!), and felt really good.

Then just before mile 26, I hear, ‘Great job, San Francisco’!  It was one of the ladies from LA that I’d met before the race.  We started the slog up to the infamous Goat Hill together before I lost her.  And Goat Hill…it was surprisingly inconspicuous.  I was expecting a sign…or something.  But it wasn’t until I confirmed with one of the local runners that it was in fact Goat Hill.  And, it was steep.  It was muddy.  It was….surprisingly not that bad.  Thank you Fox Trail repeats.  My goal was to get up the hill without stopping.  And I did…I didn’t even really think about stopping.

I got to the top and was greeted by a bunch of volunteers.  They were great – refilled my water, gave me some electrolytes, and some more broth.  And…was that, Larry?!  It was!  There was Larry, who works some of the Coastal races making soup.  He gave me some tips  on the rest of the course and I was off.  Even though I was soaked, I didn’t give my drop there a second look.

I wish I could say the next three miles were super easy and I kept up the great (for me) pace I had going.  But, they were some of the muddiest, slipperiest, miles all day.  So I walked a lot.  Many times slower than I wanted to be…and I had the energy to run.  That was a first.  But, I knew I was going to come in with a good for me time.  A better for me time wasn’t worth the risk of injury.

I slipped and sloshed my way to the next aid station – hiking where I had to, forcing myself to run where I could.  I could hear trainer Tom’s voice in the back of my head, ’empty the tank!  this is the last of your run today’. I’m not sure why there was another aid station with only 1.4 miles to go, but it was nice to see.  The crossing guards were surprised at how fast I was walking, which made me smile.  Once I was out of the mud, I was able to jog over to the aid station for some electrolytes and soup.  One of the guys was like, that’s amazing, isn’t it?  I said it was, and he said great…now get out of here…1.4 and you’re done.

And, what a 1.4 it was.  Some short, steep, climbs up….rocks….more mud.  More walking than I wanted, but I was going to get in by 7:30.  I could hear the finish before I saw it and due to the mud, didn’t get to run in as much as I wanted.  But, I did run the last piece along the road, made a right turn….decided to roll my ankle.  Awesome.  Only me.  Thank you ankle brace for saving it, even if it is a little sore now.  The nearby spectators all cheered and yelled, ‘nice save’ as I righted myself and jogged through the finish line.

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I wasn’t really sure what to do once I finished.  It’s been so long since that’s happened it was a little emotional.  I got a medal and someone handed me a cliff bar maybe.  Not sure, I tucked it into my pack.  I got one of the volunteers to take a photo….you can’t get that muddy and not document it.  Even if I am the queen of layered running tops.  haha…I dried off, changed clothes, and enjoyed the finish line celebration.  Got the frog cupcake I’ve been thinking about for months along with a post-race beer.

So, where does that leave me?  Other than pretty sore at the moment?  Haha.  It leaves me with a vote of confidence for Lake Sonoma.  It leaves me knowing that despite having more work to do, my training plan is working.  It leaves me hoping that my second race in the lottery of pain will go as well as my first.

Big thanks to all of the volunteers – being out in the rain and cold is no small feat, but you all did it with smiles on your faces and were just what I needed to see at every aid station.  Thank you to trainers Robin, Tom, and the rest of Orange Theory for teaching me that I can push a lot harder than I thought I could both in class and out.  And to Dr. Hal, for putting me back together again and talking me off the race ledge this week.

Until next time Way Too Cool, until next time.  When hopefully it’s not raining.  I’d love to see what I can do if I can actually run the last six miles.