Miles from Everywhere

Acknowledgements

2012-02-22T10:14:00.004-05:00

I would like to dedicate Day 235 (which fell on Monday) to my wonderful husband. Had it not been for him, I might not have run. I have been feeling pretty down lately for a number of reasons that will not be discussed. One thing that happens to me when I am stressed is that I lose motivation to run and exercise. On Monday I was in a deep rut of "I don't care," and did not bother to run.

About 8:30 p.m. I started thinking about it, and confessed to the Hubbs that I had not yet run for the day.After we talked a little about what was going on, he offered to head out with me. It was quarter after nine, cold and dark, but be he helped me through.

Thanks, my love!

Recovered!

2012-02-04T13:49:00.000-05:00

So I seem to have made it back from my groin strain. Chalk another one up for foam rolling! I made it through Tuesday's strength and conditioning training sessions by foam rolling during our water breaks and only sprinting at about 60-70 percent effort. On Wednesday I was able to get out on the trails (sans snowshoes still) for three miles, the most in more than a week. During Thursday's S&C session, I built up my effort to 100 percent and still felt fine. To be on the safe side, I am still going to be cautious for the next week, especially in sprint workouts, but I think I am in the clear. Huge sigh of relief.

The Lake Effect Half-Marathon is three weeks away. Got nothin' else to say about that right now.

Injured

2012-01-30T17:42:00.000-05:00

I suppose training the way I do would include an inevitable incidence of injury, and after 206 days it came to be. During a strength and conditioning session last Tuesday, while doing some side shuffles with leg crossovers - during warm-up of all things - I felt a very unpleasant sear of pain in my right inner thigh. A hip adductor muscle, if you are so anatomically inclined. Afterward, I was dismayed to discover that my leg just did not seem to work very well.

So naturally I continued with the training session. I, like most athletes, exhibit classic animalistic behavior upon sustaining injury - hide it. In the wild, predators target the weak and the injured. In sports, the way of things remains the same. Is it stupid? Yes. Is it instinctual? Yes. Is it a matter of arrogant pride. Indeed. Does it stop us? Absolutely not.

To say I continued may not paint a completely accurate picture. It was more like I suffered through the sprints, barely able to make it to 50 percent top speed. True to wild animal form, though, I showed no pain. Until it was all over, of course, and I hobbled to the trainer's room for some ice. Then, in the locker room with a full bag of ice jammed into an area that is not very pleasant to ice, I gathered my composure and outlined a plan.

I had never sustained a groin strain, but I know they are a particularly pesky muscular injury in that recovery is often slow. I was faced with two conflicting needs: continuing my daily running quest and taking care of my injury. Fortunately I had run prior to the strength and conditioning session, and as it wrapped up at 7:30 a.m., I could easily rest for 36 hours before running again to maintain my streak. So for the next 35 hours, as it turned out to be, I iced and wrapped my thigh, and generally moved as little as possible.

Wednesday evening I headed out for a gentle, mile-long run. I did not even have to try to run slow as the pain and tightness from the torn muscle inhibited my normal stride. When all was said and done, I covered that mile in 10:22, officially the slowest single mile of this whole affair. To put things in perspective, the mile I ran the day after my 50-mile trail race took me 9:49 to finish. I am not saying a groin strain hurts has much as a 50-miler does, but it apparently will slow you down more. Who knew?

The next two days were the same, and on Saturday I stepped it up to whole two miles; Sunday was two and a half. I am fortunately not in much pain anymore, but my range of motion is still compromised and I cannot lengthen my stride to its normal range. Despite all I have learned about the science of human movement and exercise, it still amazes me how the body will protect itself without any active effort of our minds.

Today I foam rolled for the first time, and if you have never tried the technique I strongly recommend it the next time you have sore muscles. It hurts like a bitch, but the next day most soreness will be gone. Technically speaking, it is self-myofascial release. Non-technically, it is a form of massage that breaks up scar tissue and promotes healing circulation. Already, the flexibility of my injured muscle has improved.

Before you go thinking I might be kind of smart, let me add that last Thursday I still participated in that day's strength and conditioning training session, and I will do the same tomorrow. I did at least have the sense to tell the coach about my injury though, and got the OK to "do what I can."

The real downer is the interruption of my preparation for the half-marathon at the end of the month for which I am registered. In an instant, I had to accept that simply finishing is basically my only option as a race goal. And that is OK with me. I am dumb enough to keep training, but smart enough to keep it as light as possible, which eliminates 10+-milers that I really need. This race will not be a record-setter. So be it.

So here is my lesson for the day: Set goals, sign up for races, go for it - whatever "it" might be. And if something gets in the way like injury or illness, breakdowns or blues, do NOT give up on going for it, but DO allow yourself to accept what cannot be changed, and accept what you can change (your goals to something more appropriate, for example) and move forward. After 214 days, I am still rolling. You can, too.

2012 Snowshoe Debut

2012-01-14T13:57:00.000-05:00

Winter finally showed up yesterday! I left for work at 5:30 a.m. and it was pouring rain the whole way in. I began my client's training session at 6 a.m. and by the time I was done with her warm-up, the rain have turned over into snow. Halfway through her session, there was an inch on the ground.

It just kept coming for half the day, and there was a good five to six inches of snow blanketing the area when it was over. This morning I got right out on the trail, happily tightening the bindings on my snowshoes for the first time in 10 months. I went out for a little over a half-hour, and was reminded very quickly just how much of an ass-kicking workout it is to run in snowshoes.

The trail was fresh, and the snow was fluff that would not pack because it had turned so cold overnight. It makes blazing your own trail more difficult, and since it was my first time in snowshoes for so long, I ran intervals for the first 16 or 17 minutes, about one to one-and-a-half minutes on and off, to give my body a chance to get reacquainted with the physical demand. Then it was time to grin and bear it and turn around and run back - continuously. I had hoped the running would be a little smoother now that I could run in the trail I had just blazed, but there really was not much difference.

There are couple snowshoe races I have my eye on, and it will be interesting how quick I can get into shape. I have found that as much as I try to train in the gym to prepare my legs for running in snowshoes, nothing beats actually getting out there. Getting such a late start this season leaves me feeling really behind, but when I really think about it, I do not care all that much. I cannot forget that I started running and racing in snowshoes to do something different (and fun) with my running.

It felt so good to finally get back out there, almost as good as the heavy fatigue I now carry in my legs. It is such a great feeling when, after the fact, I can still tell how hard I worked pushing myself through another physical adventure.

Happy Trails!

2012-01-10T18:41:00.000-05:00

I have been bummed about the lack of snow here in CNY, and today I decided that if I cannot run on the trails in my snowshoes, I better get out there in my trail shoes. So I did. Damn, it felt good. I have not been out there in forever, and I had the woods to myself. It was like seeing a beloved friend after a long absence and realizing you love him/her more than you thought you did.

I signed up for my first ultra of the year this week. I am going to return to the Finger Lakes Fifties event to once again take on the 50-mile race. Probably its best feature is the date on which it is held: June 30. So to culminate a full year of running every day (provided I stay on track for the next six months) on the last day I will be running 50 miles. How is that for going out with a bang? It is a bit premature, but maybe I should start considering the question someone has yet to ask: "So, are you going to run on July 1?"

LET IT SNOW ALREADY!

2012-01-06T18:50:00.001-05:00

If anyone has noticed my new list of races planned for 2012, one might also notice the lack of snowshoe races. That is because the snow belt here in Central New York has been anything but this winter. I am stoked and ready to go out on snowshoes, but so far we have barely gotten enough snow to even cover the grass. Also, the times in which we have were sandwiched by ridiculously warm temperatures that thwart any buildup, such as today when it crept nearly to 50 degrees. The few inches that had accumulated was no match.

I hate to complain, because I hate cold as much as most people, but I cannot snowshoe without snow! People seem to take offense when I lament about the weather. So I would like to clarify, I hate cold - not snow. In fact, I have grown to LOVE snow. Give me snow and upper 20s to low 30s and I will be one happy little chickadee. Actually, a rabbit - a SNOWSHOE hare to be precise!

And on the 189th day ...

2012-01-05T17:47:00.001-05:00

... Running became a bit more technological! This afternoon I ran down my road like I often do, only this time I did it with a snazzy new Garmin Forerunner 210 wrapped around my right wrist. I would not say that I was a GPS watch hater or anything, but I also have been plenty content with my oh-so-basic Ironman Triathlon watch, the same kind I have used all my life. Recently, though, I felt this uncharacteristic interest in getting a GPS/heart rate monitor watch. To add fuel to the fire of desire, the size of these suckers have gotten somewhat under control as of late. The Hubbs and I went browsing to find one suitable for my preferences, and there is was: The 210 - with the features I want and in a small enough package for my little wrist to manage.

With the satellites now tracking my steps and the heart rate monitor measuring beats, I set out down the road. As if all the fascinating new data - like the fact that I was running about 30 seconds faster per mile than I would have guessed - was not entertaining enough, without fail the watch emitted the classic electronic chirp-chirp when I reached one mile. I practically squealed in delight. I had become one of the people who chirps on the mile!

I have to be honest, I really cannot wait to get my Garmin profile set up online so I can upload runs and whatever else fun stuff awaits me. The trainer in me is excited to figure out my target heart rate work zones in order to train better. Awesomeness!

Rest assured, running purists, the good thing about GPS watches is that they need satellite reception to function. Which means when I am blazing trails out in the woods I can stay off the grid like old times.

Past the Turnaround

2012-01-02T23:35:00.000-05:00

I never realized that the second half of the year - July 1 to December 31 - had more days than the first half. Or should I say "half"?

I never realized, that is, until I ran every day from July 1 to December 31 and counted 184 days and subsequently realized there were 181 to go. Of course, I just as quickly realized that it was really 182 days because 2012 is a leap year. Regardless, I had unknowingly made it to the turnaround of this metaphorical year-long, out-and-back running adventure.

Facing the Inevitable

2011-11-29T16:57:00.000-05:00

For the Thanksgiving gathering with my family, I brought dessert. My dad brought a bug. As in the virus type. As in the kind that hit me with a less-than-pleasant illness.

We knew it would happen eventually. I woke up Sunday not feeling so great, and so The Hubbs and I cut short our run that morning. By that night, it was getting bad. I woke up Monday feeling as though I had been hit by a truck. I cancelled my clients' training sessions and skipped my classes, and spent most of the day sleeping. With 150 days of running behind me, though, I was not going to bail now. So in a cold-medicine-induced stupor, I stumbled through my daily run in the afternoon.

I felt somewhat guilty, having stayed home from everything else. I could hear the skeptics nagging me: "If you are not too sick to run, you are not too sick to stay home." The fact is, I probably was too sick to run, but I also took on the challenge to run every day - in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad. The point that my recovery was probably hindered by completely sapping all my energy to run a measly mile is a moot one. I am not trying to recover as fast as possible. I am trying to prove that I can run every single damn day - no excuses.

Which is why this morning I rolled out of bed and added only running shoes and a sports bra to the clothes I slept in and staggered out again to get it over with. And in my head a song kept repeating itself over and over:

"Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride, ain't nothin' gonna slow me down - oh no - I've got to keep on movin' ..."

141 Days

2011-11-18T14:08:00.001-05:00

I calculated today that I have run every day for 141 days. Since the Empire State Marathon a month ago, the daily run has been for the sake of running, nothing else. No races loom on the horizon; with that, no pressure to perform. It was a relief to cross the finish line for that race because, finally, I was not training for something.

The problem with that, though, is there was also nothing to distract me from the lingering feelings of disappointment from my DNF at the Green Lakes Endurance Run 100K. Yes, that is still bubbling under the surface. I am left wondering why it has bothered me this long, and I am beginning to think that I will not be able to fully let go until I actually conquer the distance. However, at this point, I have very little confidence that I am capable of doing so, and that weighs heavily in my heart.

I cannot remember the last time I ran and really felt something from it, which saddens me. I have decided that in 2012, I am going to pass on running any road marathons. Not since Boston in April 2010 have I found enjoyment in the race, so it is time for a much-needed break. There are a few trail ultras I want to enter, as well as a number of races that I have been wanting to do for while, namely the Tough Mudder. A new TM race has been announced for Washington D.C. on May 18 and 19, and I am eagerly waiting for registration to open.

The weather is turning colder, and we have already had a few snowfalls here, which means snowshoe running and racing is just around the corner. Some new trails I found this summer double as snowshoe trails in the winter, and I look forward to getting on them once we get some packed snow cover.

Lost Runner Seeks Finish Line

2011-10-04T23:17:00.000-04:00

You know the feeling when you have not talked to a good friend for a long time, and you want to call but it has been so long that you feel like an ass and do not know how to deal with the awkwardness of re-establishing contact? Well, that is kind of how I feel about this blog.

I bombed the 100K attempt and the very next day began the fall semester for college. I had to prioritize what to cut out because, frankly, I did and still do not have enough time for everything I have to do. Writing blog posts went by the wayside as I attended to more important matters. And what can I say?

That even though I swore I was going to remain optimistic about what became of the Green Lakes Endurance Runs 100K, I sank into a funk and I still think almost every day about how I did not make it?

That I have managed to keep my running-every-day streak alive, although most days I run only about 15 minutes?

That I just ran a half-marathon with zero expectations and ended up coming in only a minute over my PR?

It has been a month of ups and downs with my running and ups and downs with my life. I am a bit overwhelmed and just trying to get by day to day.

You know that feeling in a marathon, when you are falling farther and farther behind your goal pace, and at first you are optimistic that you will be able to kick it into gear and make up for lost time but then you get to the point when you realize it is not going to happen? I suppose there is the option of dropping out at that point, but if you look at a race as life, you realize it is just going to keep coming at you. There is no pause or delete button for the real world.

Right now, my life is that race, and the miles keep coming at me while I fall farther behind. I look forward to getting the Empire State Marathon over and done with, and putting the 2011 racing season behind me.

Daily Mile Challenge
Yeah, good luck with that. So I have run every day. Details beyond that will have to come later. I guess I am up to Day 96.

Scans show signs of life

2011-09-13T22:18:00.000-04:00

For the record, I am not dead. Neither is the running streak. If you are one of my few special blog followers, my apologies for leaving you hanging. No need to call 911, just be a little patient with me.

Run 10 minutes, rinse, repeat

2011-09-01T21:42:00.000-04:00

Everyday, the Achilles tendon improves. To add insult to injury, though, I seem to have developed some kind of sinus infection. I have severe congestion, painful headaches from the pressure buildup and a bad sore throat. Two days ago, I was mildly feverish as well. If I feel the same tomorrow, I may need to consider a visit to my doctor because the general consensus is that a sore throat, sinus congestion and persistent headache "could be a serious medical condition."

If it is not one thing, it is another. *sighs*

DMC: 8/30-9/1: Days 61-63

It may be slow and stiff, and it may only be for 10 minutes a day, but the streak remains unbroken. While running the previous two days, after a few minutes the tightness and discomfort in my calf and Achilles would increase. Today, however, it stayed loose the entire time. Small victories. All three days were exactly the same: 10 minutes in the new Sauconys (Triumph).

DNF

2011-08-29T16:36:00.002-04:00

Without further adieu, I present my first ever DNF in a race. You read it correctly - the three capital letters all runners dread seeing on a results page. That was me for yesterday's Green Lakes Endurance Runs 100K. I made it 50K, and pulled myself out.

Long story short (because I do not feel like getting into it at the moment), an Achilles injury did me in. I do not know if my hip problem or ankle sprain had anything to do with it, but I attribute it more to the conditions - cold and wet, VERY muddy and sloppy trails. I developed calf tightness and strain, which then lead to tightness and intensifying pain in the Achilles tendon. I struggled with the calf tightness for two laps, nearly 16 miles, and was battling the pain for laps three and four, toward the end of which I knew I could not continue for 31 more miles. I was not sure if I could even continue for another lap of the course without developing a serious injury. One thing I have learned is there is some pain you push through and there is some pain to which you yield.

There were tears for sure. I am bummed but keeping positive. I am here to run another day, which was today, in fact. Had I continued, it might not be the case. I have no regrets, just some disappointment that it did not work out the way it was supposed to.

More to come later ...

DMC: 8/26-8/29: Days 57-60
Sixty days, wow. It does not seem like 60 days at all. The plan worked - running just a mile has become like not running at all. Nice.
Day 57: 1.2 miles on my road. My apparent go-to run for this week. (Saucony Guide)
Day 58: 1.2 miles with three 60-meter striders - pre-race tradition, no matter what the distance. (Saucony Guide)
Day 59: 50K of what was supposed to be 100K (Asics - Green Trabucos. Did not even get far enough into it to move up to the bigger purple ones.)
Day 60: Still running! 1.5 easy miles around the track. My left calf started to really tighten up about two laps in, and the subsequent increasing Achilles pain started up a few laps later. Nothing too severe, not like yesterday at all, but something to address. I will not run more than the minimum until the pain and stiffness completely subsides and remains gone for a couple consecutive runs. (Brooks Green Silence)

Trying to be positive

2011-08-25T22:39:00.000-04:00

I slept poorly last night, and my left hip started bothering me again today. Fortunately it is not as bad as it was, but still concerns me. Fortunately my ankle is feeling a lot better. There is no more pain and tenderness, thanks to vigilant icing and compression. On my run this evening, it felt fine, but I know it is still in a weakened state, so I ran with caution.

I am trying to keep good spirits about everything, but it is becoming increasingly difficult. I am beginning preparation for the weekend, but it is hard to get excited when I am not feeling all that ready for the race. It is not only due to the nagging injuries, but I am also feeling slow, flabby and generally unathletic. I fear that I am indeed too rested.

I just need something, ANYTHING to give me a boost; a sign of sorts to reassure me that I am ready.

DMC: 8/25: Day 56

The Hubbs and I ran around the campus of the local community college, a type of easy exploration run of sorts. It was only a little over 22 minutes, and the effort did not even phase me. Maybe that should be a boost of confidence, but I am honestly not encouraged at all. (Saucony Guide)

Just when you think it can't get worse ...

2011-08-24T15:56:00.002-04:00

Good news: Pain in the hip is gone. Bad news: Pain in the ankle arrived.

Yesterday, I was still tired but generally feeling physically better, but was mentally quite gloomy. I once again ran just a little over a mile. This week has just not been what it should be. The one silver lining was that my hip was fine.

Today, I trained clients early in the morning, and hit the trails afterward for a good run that I was certain would break me out of my funk. Then, with exactly 92.5 hours until the 100K is set to start (otherwise known as 19 minutes into my run) my left ankle turned out on me. Just what I need, a sprained ankle. It's a good one, too.

I have my own rating scale of sorts for sprains:
"It's nothing" = It is a tweak of a sprain, but nothing that is going to slow me down or even make me miss more than a step. Might get a little ice, might not. No worries.
"It's a good one" = It is a bit more of a substantial sprain that hurts a bit and one I will need to walk off for a few minutes before resuming running. I will have to ice it and potentially take it easy for a couple days, but most of the time it nothing to really get concerned about.
"It's a bad one" = It is a bad, painful sprain, and I am done running for the day. Ice, rest and rehab is necessary. If a race is imminent, tears will likely be involved.

I developed this scale basically because I have sprained this ankle more times than I can remember. The first time was in eight grade, and it was a bad one. Since then, there have been one more bad one and a few good ones, but most have fallen into the "It's nothing" category. I do not mean to sound so cavalier about an injury, but athletes by nature deal with injuries all the time, and it becomes something that you literally learn how to take in stride.

So when I was taking an innocent turn on the trail today and it turned out, and I heard the telltale crunch and felt the sharp twinge of stretching ligaments, I knew just what to do. Slow down but keep walking, and assess. Do I have full range of motion? Yes. Pain? Yes, with weight bearing. Sharp? No, not that bad. OK, keep walking, take it easy, stay calm. Keep walking. Don't stop. Don't let the fluids build up. Keep walking, five minutes minimum. Easy, easy. Don't panic.

Then, reality set in. 100K race. In four days. Easy, don't panic, don't cry. It's not a bad one. Keep walking. Five minutes go by, and the pain was subsiding. Then I walked down a little hill, and a few twinges set it.OK, five more minutes. Walk for at least 10 total, and then we'll see. The time passes and I pick up another trail, this one easier and mostly flat, with far fewer roots and rocks than the last. I take a few easy running steps. Full range of motion? Yes. Pain? No. Tenderness? Maybe a little. OK, keep at the run, but easy, easy. Let's cut it off at 30 minutes today, instead of 45.

It is a mental mantra I have gone though many times, but never just four days before such a major race. I sprained the same ankle a week before last year's 50K (about the same class of "It's a good one"), two weeks before the 2006 Mountain Goat 10-miler (where I set a PR), six days before a 10K (where I got second in my age group) and 10 days before one of the marathons (I cannot remember which). So I have been through this before, and everything turned out OK.

Still, I just cannot help but ask: seriously, now? This has to happen now?

I had been feeling great. Light on my feet, moving easily through the woods, my thoughts were on the race and I was feeling confident. Then, in one fraction of a second, the mojo was gone. After a 10-minute walking break, I resumed running for 11 more minutes. Now I felt slow and heavy, and utterly defeated.

I am currently icing and trying to regroup.

DMC: 8/23 and 8/24: Days 54 and 55
Day 54: 1.2 miles in my NEW Sauconys. These are the Progrid Triumph, replacing the Progrid Guide.
Day 55: 19 minutes, plus 11 minutes after a 10-minute, ankle-nursing walking break. (Asics - Green Trabucos)

Aches, Pains and Doubt

2011-08-23T11:04:00.000-04:00

On Sunday, after the first night's sleep in my own bed in more than a week, I was feeling a lot worse than I had hoped I would with only a week to go before the GLER 100K. Being tired was less of a concern than the persistent pains coming from my left hip while The Hubbs and I were running that evening. We planned for eight miles on the easy trail by our home, but with both of us feeling very tired and sluggish, and especially because of my complaining hip, we cut it off at five miles.

I decided that after a week of hiking up and down rugged mountain trails and sleeping on the ground - and since it has become part of my typical big race preparation - an adjustment by my marvelous chiropractor was in order. I had clients very early Monday morning, and planned to run a decent distance on some trails after I was done with their training. With my hip still complaining, this time just from walking around, I decided to get in a chiro appointment before running any more. I have to admit I would normally have just dealt with it, but with less than a week until the race, I tend to be a bit more overprotective with myself.

At my appointment later that morning, the cause of my pain was quickly determined - my pelvis was out of alignment, leaving my left leg a little shorter than the right. I do not normally care too much for doctors (no runner does) but my chiro has to be one of my favorite people. A longtime competitive swimmer, he has a better understanding of the needs of athletes than your typical family physician. I have been going to him for years, and never once has he said - as other doctors have - that maybe I run too much. He knows my problem spots and helps keep me running healthy.

Afterward, my hip was still a little sore but that was to be expected. Although the cause of the problem was corrected, there was going to be a little lingering pain and inflammation. I decided to push off my run until the evening and relax for the afternoon. After lounging on the couch to watch a movie, the sleepiness set in, and I fell asleep until The Hubbs woke me up when he got home nearly two hours later. The clock was nearing 8 p.m. and it was starting to get dark, and I was absolutely exhausted - and still had to run.

Pain and exhaustion: NOT what this runner wants to feel six days before the longest and most challenging race of her life. This was the day I knew would come - Day 53, the first day I really did not want to run, and the only reason I did was because I did not want to break my streak. So out I went for a quickie jaunt to the end of my road. A bit later, I stumbled to bed and finally slept long and hard.

This morning I feel much more refreshed, but now the doubts are setting in. Did I make a mistake taking an Adirondack vacation last week? Is the combination of a lot of long hard hiking and minimal running really effective training? Should I have logged a lot more miles the past two days, or is it better that I heeded the very obvious warning signs my body was giving? Am I resting too much? Have I not rested enough? Am I even really capable of running 100K?

DMC: 8/21 and 8/22: Days 52 and 53

About five miles for Day 52 and 1.2 miles for Day 53. I wore my good old Sauconys for both, and I think they are just that - OLD. It feels they are about at the end of their life. Time to test out a new pair to compare, and retirement may be around the corner.

Hiking Takes Over

2011-08-21T16:32:00.000-04:00

Shortly after my last post, the rain did begin to subside. The Hubbs and I felt confident with the weather forecast that it was clearing for good, so we came up with an improvised hiking plan for the day. That meant a quickie run around the campgrounds before heading up Marble Mountain, a small peak partway up the trail that leads to the summit of Whiteface Mountain, the fifth highest peak in the Adirondacks and home of the skiing events for the 1980 Winter Olympics. We had originally considered hiking Whiteface, but it is a longer and harder hike that needs an early start. Going up to Marble was a fair compromise because it gave us a preview of what we are in for when we do make the whole trip, but was only about a 4.5-hour hike, which is much more appropriate for our 10:30 a.m. departure. Even better, we were able to start from our campsite, as the grounds feature an unmarked trail that crosses the formal DEC Wilmington Trail.

On the summit of Marcy

Wednesday was the Big One: Mount Marcy, the highest peak in New York state. I was completely content with running for my 10-minute minimum down and back on the road by our campground, because the Van Hoevenberg Trail that we followed to Marcy's summit is a little over 14 miles round trip. Total hiking time was approximately seven hours and 40 minutes, but we spent nearly an hour relaxing on the summit in addition to taking a few short breaks, so it was not nonstop hiking.

Descending from Cascade's summit

Thursday we woke up a bit sore from two straight days of hiking, and without a solid plan for the day. I wanted to do a little more hiking, while we had the mountains just outside our tent. We allowed ourselves a slower, lazy start, which meant another half-day hike at most. We decided on Cascade and Porter Mountains - a double summit possible thanks to the fact that both share the same trail for most of the ascent. Where the trail splits, it is .3 miles to the summit of Cascade, and .7 miles to Porter. We chose Cascade first, a harrowing scramble over steep bare rocks to a wide open summit where we were blasted by strong winds. Porter was a bit more pleasurable as its summit features only a very small patch of bare rocks surrounded by shorter evergreens. The toughest part of the day, however, may have been the fact that I foolishly chose to not run before heading out for our hike, which means upon return to our campsite tired, dirty and achy I got to put on the running shoes and head out. The Hubbs graciously joined me for an easy shag around the campground.

On the summit of Porter, pointing toward
Cascade less than a mile away

Friday was our departure day, so I only had time for the minimum before breaking down camp. Not that I would have been up for much more, because after three straight days of demanding hiking, my legs felt like oak logs. Late Saturday afternoon, after another stopover at my dad's to break up the trip, we were finally home. Still feeling tight and fatigued, we headed out to the end of our street and back. I felt something interesting, though. Even though my legs were tired and sluggish, they also felt somewhat like tight, powerful springs ready to explode with potential energy.

I know this is a blog about my life as a runner, so what am I doing talking so much about hiking? This week is a good example of how being a dedicated and competitive runner can impact everything - even vacation. More casual runners may be OK with taking the week off - after all, it IS vacation. But for me, and the goals I want to achieve, training must continue. I plan vacations, visits with friends and family, and even work schedules around my training demands. In most cases, training must come first. For our first wedding anniversary, The Hubbs and I started the day with a 22-mile run, because proper preparation for an upcoming race demanded that I get in that mileage that weekend. Fortunately, I married a marathoner, so he understood.

In the case of an Adirondack vacation, it works out a little easier because although I am only running for a minimum amount of time, I spend hours hiking difficult trails. Especially as an ultra trail runner, it can count as appropriate training because I am on my feet for a substantially long amount of time strengthening the muscles that are key for navigating running trails.

DMC: 8/16-8/20: Days 47-51
Tuesday: Day 47 - 11:50 (Asics Purple Trabucos)
Wednesday: Day 48 - 10:16 (Saucony TR)
Thursday: Day 49 - 11:24 (Asics Purple Trabucos)
Friday: Day 50 - 10:06 (Saucony TR)
Saturday: Day 51 - About 1.2 miles to the end of my street and back. (Saucony)

Rain, Rain Go Away

2011-08-16T06:52:00.000-04:00

So it is mid-August and I am wearing a knit winter hat in a tent while updating my blog thanks to free WiFi at the campgrounds where The Hubbs and I are staying. How is that for a few mismatches of things that are not supposed to go together?

Another thing that is not supposed to go together is constant rain and a vacation in the Adirondacks, yet here I am trying to mop up mini lakes on the floor of our tent with a Sham-Wow (jokes aside, Sham-Wows are truly wonderful, useful things sometimes).

I AM SUPPOSED TO BE HIKING MOUNTAINS!!!

Our trip began Saturday, and it was going to be an easy week of running because I was instead going to be spending hours and hours hiking miles and miles to the summits of some of the ADKs highest peaks. That plan was thwarted by the rain that began Sunday evening and essentially has not ceased ever since. It is supposed to taper off later this morning, and I am holding my breath.

DMC: 8/13-15: Days 44-46
I have been doing pretty much the same thing every day. I would have liked to get in longer runs on Saturday and Sunday, but those were our travel days and you can only squeeze in so much sometimes when you need to pack up and get on the road.
Day 44: A bit over three miles. (Asics - Purple Trabucos)
Day 45: 32 minutes of reminiscing while running around my hometown. We stopped over at my dad's en route to our destination. (Saucony TR)
Day 46: It was supposed to be our first day of hiking, so we went 30 easy minutes exploring the trails of our campground. When the rain would not subside, that plan was scrapped. (Saucony TR)

Blah

2011-08-12T17:12:00.000-04:00

With the exception of Wednesday, I have really been struggling this week with my running. I am feeling a little disappointed with myself, and trying to figure out what the heck this funk is all about. My frustration was exacerbated by the fact that I was running on my staple eight-mile gravel path this morning when I was stopped short by bridge repair that closed a mile-long section of the trail. Roads regularly intersect the trail, so I could run around the closed section and pick the trail back up. Still at the time, the roadblock (literal and figurative) was a huge blow to my already weak motivation to get in some miles.

I woke up with a great plan for about 13 miles, but the problem was I just did not feel like executing the plan. I headed out about an hour later than I intended, and was running half-heartedly at best. Then I came along the trail closure and discouraged myself further by questioning why everything was awry this week. I was ready to blow the whole thing off after six, but pushed myself to go a few more. That was it, though. That was all I had inside me today. I supposed it should not matter, but this was supposed to be a week of kick-ass training.

It occurred to me that all of this may be due to the fact that I did 27 miles Sunday. I guess I would not expect to bounce back immediately from a marathon race, but I thought that since I was nearly an hour slower than my typical marathon time I could recover better. This leaves me a little concerned for the race now just over two weeks away. At this point, though, there is not much I can do except believe that I have done enough to get through it.

DMC: 8/12: Day 43

Nine miles on the flat gravel path. I managed a steady, easy pace, but felt kind of crappy most of the time. I could not find a comfortable rhythm today. Frustration and disappointment are high. (Saucony TR.)

Running Shoes

2011-08-11T22:07:00.000-04:00

I have what seems like a gazillion pairs of running shoes. Call it a multiple sneaker identity disorder. The way they are all lined up around the front door, you would think that a half-dozen runners are living in my apartment when really there are just two. Here we go:

Asics Trabuco: for the trails
Saucony ProGrid Guide: for the roads
Saucony ProGrid Guide TR: supposed to be for the trails, but I do not like them (they are NOTHING like the road version) so I used them exclusively for a hard-packed dirt and gravel path near my home until they have enough miles that I can feel I got my money's worth
Brooks Green Silence: for track work or short, fast treadmill running, and for shorter road races
Brooks Defyance: for stadium and stair sprints or short to moderate treadmill running

Now just to make things more confusing, I have two pairs of Trabucoes - size 5s (green) and size 6s (purple). The size 6s are a new addition. I am trying a size up for the latter stages of ultras when my feet are swollen and uncomfortably cramped in my regular size. Since I will need to do a little bit of work in these just to break them in a little bit, I am going to have to start specifying just which Asics I am wearing for my shoe mileage tracking. Oy.

Wait, it gets better!

Part of the reason I have so many shoes is because I have been making some changes to what shoes I wear. For years I was exclusively in Brooks Adrenalins - both the road and trail version. As my mileage and race distances went up and I became an even more efficient runner, I felt less and less comfortable in the Adrenalins. So I began the painfully frustrating process of find the right shoe. I found the Trabucoes, which I LOVE for the trails, so I am sticking with them.

For the roads, the Saucony Guides are good, but not just right, so I am changing to Saucony ProGrid Triumph. The new shoes arrive tomorrow (which is essentially why I am babbling about all my shoes) and I am excited to test them out. They are coming just in time, because the Guides have more than 400 miles on them. I usually start wearing the new ones while the old ones still have a little life left in them, switching back and forth. While that is going on, I am going to have to start specifying just which Sauconys I am wearing for my shoe mileage tracking.

Double oy.

The one thing I have going for me is that I run a lot, so with a little more time, I can wear some of these puppies out and make things a little more simple.

DMC: 8/11: Day 42
I do not really want to talk about today, because it was pretty crappy. I got in weight lifting and a long workout on the bike, and a mere 10 minutes on the treadmill at 7.5 miles per hour. I really just needed a break from being on my feet. (Saucony)

Number 41

2011-08-10T10:29:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I think that the only time I am honestly and truly happy is when I am running by myself in the woods. It is quiet and peaceful, and free from the bullshit that is everyday life out in the world. I do not mean to sound cynical, but I just wish I could carry with me for the rest of the day the feeling that I can handle anything, that I am doing some good, and that I am living just the way I want.

It is odd that after enough miles, you can come to realize that even though you may be alone while running on the trails, it is when you are away from the woods living your daily existence and surrounded by people that you actually feel lonely.

My trail shoes smell like something died in them. I have to leave them on the deck, they stink so bad. Skin is peeling off my feet. I have abrasion scrapes up my back from my CamelBak chafing the skin. I am not feeling much like a normal human that fits in with the mainstream. I am OK with that, but wish I had some more company in this existence.

Being Day 41, I was inspired to listen to my favorite Dave Matthews Band song, "Number 41." It always makes me want to drive fast out on back country roads with all the windows down, escaping to ... somewhere, anywhere.

DMC: 8/10: Day 41
I headed out at sunrise and got in about five miles this morning, and I plan on going out again later this afternoon, but I felt like blogging now. (Asics)

UPDATE: The smell-like-something-died-in-them trail shoes were airing out on the deck when a passing storm came through. At the same time, I was slumbering unaware during a midday nap and had no clue they were taking on water. Despite the fact that they now smelled like the Swamp Thing died in them, I love the damn shoes so much that I still laced them up and headed out the the trails once again for another dose of nature therapy, this time about four miles worth. (A-stinks)

Rough Shape

2011-08-09T21:26:00.001-04:00

I have been struggling a bit the past 24 hours; apparently my body is struggling to bounce back from the mileage I logged this weekend. I had planned for about eight miles today, but was resigned to take another easy day after a night of poor, restless sleep. I ran on the treadmill for a short, fast stint and did a little strength training. I was getting fatigued more than usual and battled some bouts of dizziness.

This is definitely a downer after this weekend's high. I am struggling to find motivation and enthusiasm for my training. I need this race to get here before I fall apart.

Daily Mile Challenge: 8/9: Day 40
Two fast miles on the treadmill. It actually felt good to push the pace. My speed has definitely been sacrificed to build endurance, but it is nice to know that it is not completely dead. (Brooks Green Silence)

Going the Distance

2011-08-08T22:28:00.000-04:00

There were no bib numbers, no crowds of fans, no aid stations with the familiar chant "water first, Gatorade second." There was no mile markers or race shirt. No post-race refreshments or free massages.

It was just me and my CamelBak, and a car trunk full of ice, snacks and Gatorade, but a marathon was completed all the same. And a little extra, actually. All told I went 27 miles, just as planned. I was right - I could not recreate how I felt a couple weeks ago. In fact, a lot went wrong this morning, and I started off completely in the wrong state of mind. So it was not a magical run by any means, but I got through it.

I suppose I should feel more different than I do, but to be honest, other than tired I feel pretty much the same. I really cannot explain why, but I guess I know deep inside that this is something that all ultra runners do as part of their training, so while it is awe inspiring to most people, among my fellow ultra runners it is just regular business. I am proud of what I accomplished, and feel fantastic that my hard work has gotten me to this point.

Daily Mile Challenge: 8/7: Day 38
Twenty-seven miles. 'Nuf said. (Asics)

Daily Mile Challenge: 8/8: Day 39
Yup, I definitely ran 27 miles yesterday! I am happily not in any pain, but my legs are stiff and fatigued - especially my calves, which is a little out of the ordinary. I took it easy with a mile and a half. (Brooks Green Silence)

Inner Demons

2011-08-07T17:54:00.001-04:00

Despite the fact that I did all that I could think of to recover from 15 miles on Friday, I woke up Saturday physically tired and mentally disengaged. Facing 15 miles again left me in downhearted spirits. The Hubbs agreed to run the first few miles with me, and although I was moving well, I was a mess in my mind. I began to feel overwhelmed and found myself obsessing over my planned attempt at running the marathon distance the next day, rather than focusing on the task at hand.

I started to gush frustrations and fears, and by the time we reached three miles, the point at which I was losing my running partner, I was at a near-meltdown. Feeling defeated, I confessed I just wanted to stop and go home. Poor Jeff was stuck between allowing me to stop and encouraging me to continue. I think he was leaning toward the former when I had to admit to myself that although I was tired, nothing was hurting. I was upset, but I needed to pull it together.

I said I was going to continue, accepting that I at least needed to try. So I went on my way. I made it to 11 miles and called it a day. It was hard to ignore the voices inside my head warning me of going 15 miles the day before I was going to try 27. The demons, I call them. We all have them. Mine generally like to convince me that I do not have what it takes to get through whatever challenge I am attempting. Sometimes, like this day, it just becomes too hard to fight them.

I told myself I could live with 11, that it was still a respectable distance. Maybe it is just an act to make myself feel better, but I am truly at peace with cutting it four miles short, and that is all the really matters.

Daily Mile Challenge: 8/6: Day 37
Eleven miles on the same dirt/gravel trail as yesterday. Tough mental day. My body is tired, but feeling otherwise OK. Took another ice bath and drank a recovery drink to help me prepare for tomorrow. (Saucony TR)

Contemplation

2011-08-05T12:56:00.001-04:00

I am sitting here, fresh from my post-run ice water bath, drinking a god-awful somewhat chocolatey recovery drink (mental note: Hammer Recoverite is a no-go) and looking back on my progress since my last race and ahead at the short time that remains until the 100K. Finishing 50 miles was a huge breakthrough for me, and I proceeded to push myself through some fantastic training during July.

It was easy to become obsessed with my daily workouts. The 100K race was far enough away, and I was flying high with accomplishment from the Finger Lakes Fifties race. I had a plan for what I needed to do to prepare myself and still stay healthy. From past experiences with injuries and burnout, I have learned just how and when I can push myself. I am not the kind of runner, at least at this point, who can run 10 miles every day of the week and then bang out a couple really long runs on the weekend and not have injuries set in. I can, however, run three miles in the morning, swim laps for a half-hour at lunch and then work my ass off during a carefully crafted and intense strength-training workout in the evening. Or I can run six miles in the morning and get in a hard half-hour on the bike in the evening with some yoga afterward.

If anyone wants to argue that it is not effective training, I invite them to join me for the day and see how they feel after the third set of 20 lunges that come after the double box jumps that come after a few sets of dead lifts, all included in the third workout of the day. And then they can join me the next day to do it again.

No, it is not insanely high mileage, but I am getting up to the 70-mile mark for a week's worth of running, with the rest of it adding up to the equivalent of at least 20 more miles. My shins are not complaining, the joints in my feet are happy, and I am nearing finely tuned machine status.

All of this preparation has led to this weekend, three weeks before race day, and the final test of my training. I got in 15 miles today, and my plan is another 15 tomorrow and a marathon on Sunday. Although I am already into it, I still struggle to get my head around just what I am trying to push myself through. It is a physical challenge, no doubt, but also one of determination and tenacity. I need to train that as much as my legs and lungs. Strength and endurance will certainly be a factor on August 28, but when I enter that last loop of the course with 54 miles behind me and only eight remaining, you can be damn sure that sheer willpower will be all that remains inside of this runner.

I have come so far, and now I just need to get through eight more days of really hard training. Then it is off to the mountains for a vacation full of hiking and adventure to get away from the daily grind of life. Then it is back to reality for a week to rest up, and finally .... GO TIME.

Daily Mile Challenge: 8/5: Day 36
Fifteen miles on an easy dirt and gravel trail. I would like to give a shout out to some glands for supplying much needed hormones: To my anterior pituitary, thanks for the endorphins around mile 13. I do not know if you were digging the Skid Row song I was listening to or if you just felt bad for me, but either way I appreciate it. Also, to my adrenals, the shot of epinephrine with a half-mile to go was a nice touch. (Saucony TR)

Confused Already

2011-08-05T08:47:00.001-04:00

Ok, so if August 3 was Day 34, then August 4 is Day 35. August 3: Day 34, August 4: Day 35 ....

I am repeating this in my head because I started to write this post and lead off with my usual header, and then I realized I did not know what day I was writing about. July was easy - the date was the same as the day. Now we are into August and although it may just be logical math to add the date to July's 31 days, my mind does not work that day. I had to save this post, go back and look at my blog for the last post, and begin repeating the above mantra while I returned back to this post. This is only going to get worse over the next 11 months. Running at least a mile a day - easy. Remembering what the hell day I am on - there is the REAL challenge.

Anyway ...

Daily Mile Challenge: 8/4: Day 35
Ran in the woods, zipping along for about 3.5 miles. I felt fantastic, it was so effortless. It was the second easy day in a row - a quick break in preparation for the next three days of hell on feet. (Asics)

The Short, Short Version

2011-08-04T00:25:00.000-04:00

The Hubbs and I went away this past weekend, and it was a bumpy ride right from the start of the new week to get back to daily life. I have been a bit out of touch, but still running.

Daily Mile Challenge: Days 30-34
7/30: Day 30
30 minutes around our campground (Saucony)

7/31: Day 31
36 minutes of sightseeing on the run in downtown Cleveland, Ohio. (Saucony)

8/1: Day 32
5 miles on the track, steady pace of 8:15-8:30/mile. (Saucony)

8/2: Day 33
5.8 miles on my local trail. (Saucony TR)

8/3: Day 34
3.5 miles on the treadmill. (Saucony)

A humid Day 29

2011-07-29T14:36:00.001-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 29
Ugh. The air is hot and thick with humidity today. I got in eight miles, but they were uncomfortable. Days like these it is not fun to be a runner outside. Days like these, we just need to soldier through for the greater good. (Saucony TR)

Backlog

2011-07-28T14:46:00.000-04:00

It has been one of those weeks. I feel like I have been going on all cylinders from morning to night, but do not feel very productive. I have been tired, too, even though I have been getting a good amount of sleep. Too tired to blog, hence the backlog.

It all began Tuesday morning. Now, I have seen some weird things and met weird people while running, but nothing, and I mean NOTHING, compares to what I quite literally almost ran into while on my morning run. I had planned for about an hour on the trails at the nature center. It was a beautiful morning, and the sun was coming through small gaps in the tree canopy to form tiny glowing sunbeams. I took a little offshoot of the trail that I had never traveled before, and it took me to the shore of some open water of the bogs that fill the area. It was a mild morning, and a misty steam as rising from the water. Other than the songs of the birds, it was quiet. It was one of the most beautiful and serene places I have accidentally discovered, and I actually felt overjoyed from the experience.

After pausing briefly to take it all in, I headed back to the main trail. After about 17 minutes of total running (about 12 on the main trail), I saw a figure up ahead coming in my direction. While it is pretty rare for me to see other people while out in the early morning, I occasionally come across other runners. This person (I presume it was a person) was not running, though. As I got closer, the details of the scene began to add up into an unsettling sum.

First of all, the person (again - presumably) was wearing a winter coat. Not a huge puffer coat, but definitely bulky. It was black and was about hip length. There was a hood that was up and hiding the person's face. Either it was draped completely over the face, or the person was looking down. I have to keep saying presumably a person, because technically I never saw a human face, or hands, or even any flesh to know for sure. I know it sounds ridiculous to suggest this thing was not human, but I never saw any features to provide solid proof.

My mind was still boggling over who would be wearing a bulky winter coat out in the woods on a summer morning. I was wearing a tank top and shorts, and I was warm. Then, I noticed that this thing was also wearing a full-length black skirt, and bulky black boots. There was still no face visible from under the hood, kind of like the Ring Wraiths from "Lord of the Rings."

I was on high alert at this point, and I was slowing down as I was trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The pieces were all there, but not adding up in any sensible manner, and the mental warning bells were starting to go off. At this point, I was about 50 feet away, and could see that the skirt was actually completely sheer, and the only thing this being had on underneath was black brief underwear.

The freak factor was finally high enough that I no longer wanted any part of what was going on. I turned around and started running back in the other direction. Fast. Like, 5K pace face. Whatever that THING was, I wanted to get away as fast as possible. I was too afraid to look back for about five minutes, out of fear that it was some freak show version of the Grim Reaper that was about to dismember me. Finally, I had the courage to turn around, and saw only quiet forest.

I kept hauling away anyway, and made it back to my car at the trail head in less than eight minutes. My chest was heaving from my lungs desperately sucking in air to fuel my effort. At that point, I had only run about 25 total minutes, but I just wanted to get out of there more than anything else. I was happy to settle for a shorter tempo run of sorts. I worked out twice more throughout day to make up for it.

I have shared this story with people, and a whole lot of theories have developed: a ghost, a goth, a serial killer. I keep asking myself all sorts of questions in an effort to try to explain what I had encountered:

- Was it human? Probably, but not proven.
- Was it a man or woman? Undecided. The figure was adult male size, but could have been a tall, large woman.
- Why was it wearing a winter coat? Why was it wearing a see-through skirt with only black briefs on underneath? ESPECIALLY if it was a man?

All in all, it was just too freaky for me. More than one person has said I should have ran up to it and poked it to see what is was and then ran away. Um, no thank you. Fifty feet was more than close enough.

Daily Mile Challenge: Days 26, 27 & 28
Not to worry, I have not fallen off the wagon. As previously noted, I got in 25 minutes on Day 26 (Asics), 32 minutes on Day 27 (Saucony), and a good 10 miles in for today, Day 28 (Saucony TR). Four weeks in and still going strong.

DMC: Day 25

2011-07-25T21:52:00.001-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 25
It was a quick an easy day. I have no idea how far I ran, but it lasted all of 15 minutes. I decided to give myself an easy day. I think I deserve it! (Saucony)

Going to Another Realm

2011-07-25T14:00:00.001-04:00

Every once in a special while, a human being gets to a point when he or she stands at a metaphorical edge of a new realm, one that from afar had seemed unobtainable. It is scary, exciting and almost a little surreal to find yourself about to move to a new level you never thought you could reach. For me, it is running a marathon as a training run.

Maybe I never gave myself enough credit, but up until about 27 hours ago, I really could not envision myself doing it. I suppose I did realize I would have to in order to accomplish my ambitious ultra goals, and I know a number of people who do it regularly. Still, I could not envision me - average, simple Jade - being capable of going out for a long run and end up completing a marathon. While running yesterday, though, it suddenly became quite possible.

I was, as usual, out on the Green Lakes Endurance Runs course. My goal was to get in 21 miles, and I started off with a few easy miles just around the lakes, and then I met up with my friend Mark and we headed out for a loop of the course. We moved along comfortably and steadily, and I was somewhat surprised to be feeling as good as I did. After one loop, Mark said adieu and I was on my own for lap two. I was still moving very well, and about 14 miles in I really hit my stride. I felt like I was running on air, it was so magnificent.

For those who are familiar with horse racing, nearly 40 years ago there was a magnificent race horse named Secretariat. To roughly quote a sportswriter who described Secretariat's performance in the Belmont Stakes to win the Triple Crown:

It was like God was holding the reins that day,

and Secretariat was one of his creatures,

and the Lord whispered "go" and that horse really went.

Go ahead and laugh, but I felt a little like that. I arrived back at the parking lot after 18.5 miles to find The Hubbs already done and waiting. I needed to make it to my plan of 21 miles, and feeling as good as I did there was no way I was stopping. Fortunately, he was very supportive of me going on, so away I went for one more jaunt around both lakes for three more miles. I felt I could have run forever. The entire time I could only think about one thing: Had we planned it better with the time, I would have gone for 26 or 27 miles. Hell, maybe even longer.

WHAT THE?!?! Who the hell does that for a training run?? What kind of freak is capable? Well, it turns out, I guess I may be just that. I finished 21.5 miles strong with so much energy and happiness still in the tank that another five miles was easily doable. It was one of the best feelings in the world. I remember when just reaching 20 during a training run was such a big deal, and now I can do it weekend after weekend. I have been processing all of this since yesterday morning, and I feel so special, so magical to have reached this point.

In two weeks, I am going to give it a shot. I am going to plan things out with The Hubbs so he is not waiting around for me so I can run happily along without worrying about him, and I am going to try to push past the marathon barrier for a training run. I doubt I can repeat the feelings I had yesterday, but I can only imagine the new ones that will arise when I get to that point - and when I undeniably become an ultra runner. Finishing an ultramarathon is part of it, but I think this would solidify the true identity.

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 24
This is up there as one of the best long training runs I have ever had, all 21.5 fabulous miles of it. (Asics TR)

DMC: Day 23

2011-07-23T22:47:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 23
I "slept in" until a little after 6 a.m. this morning, and headed out to run about 45 minutes later. I probably would have been better off repeating yesterday's plan, because it was quite warm and humid. I felt a little slow, but ran in a smooth and steady rhythm for 45 minutes. I had some kind of flying insect crash land into my mouth, and before I could manage to spit it out, I learned it was a stinging flying insect that got me with a zinger on my upper lip. (Saucony TR)

DMC: Day 22

2011-07-23T11:41:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 22

A.M.: If I got a big, fat, red pimple on my back it would fit right in with all the black fly bites I acquired today. I was out the door before the sun rose this morning to get in eight miles before the day turned brutal from CNY's heat wave. I did not anticipate the black flies would substitute for the sun's ferocity. (Saucony TR)

P.M.: It was a two-workout day, and although I allowed myself to run the bulk of my miles in the morning, I still had to head out in the heat. It was only for about two and a half miles, and hot and slow ones at that. (Saucony)

Shoe Mileage

2011-07-21T16:45:00.000-04:00

There are some runners who religiously log every workout, every day. Never missing a single run, they fill up notebooks, binders and prefabricated running logs. And then there is me. I have tried so many times to keep a running log. I will usually do well for a week or so, then forget a few days and it is a pain to get things caught back up. Then I will forget for a few days, or a week, or sometimes a couple weeks. Then I start asking myself why I bother. Eventually I say the hell with it. My "Make it Happen" training notebook is still alive after its birth on May 1 - nothing short of a miracle.

There are a number of reasons to keep a log. For me, I like to keep track of what I have been doing, but keeping tabs on shoe mileage was always a main focus. For some reason, though, I never bothered to include this info in my current notebook. Needless to say, I have yet to retire a pair of running shoes and know exactly how many miles are on them. My only option is to go by "feel," which is an inexact science at best.

There is not anything wrong with this, except that shoes wear out slowly over time, so by the time I notice I am left with little warning to buy a new pair of shoes. There is not anything wrong with this, either, except that when I do not have a lot of time to find a new pair of running shoes, I am less likely to find a good deal. If you go through footwear as fast as I do, you understand the importance of saving as much as you can.

With my track record for recording shoe mileage nearing abysmal, I decided to try a new, snappier tactic. I spent way too much time creating an Excel spreadsheet for me to enter miles run for each pair of shoes. Once set up, it was fast and easy for me to update. It went great ... for a few weeks. Then I started to forget to enter daily mileage. Now, there are hopelessly empty gaps for every pair of running shoes I use.

There is really only one last shred of possibility, and that is to make a note of what shoes I wore in my DMC update. That way, at least there is a little evidence somewhere of what the heck I put on my feet. If this does not work, I am officially a lost cause.

Daily Mile Challenge: Days 20 and 21
So I have made it three weeks! To be honest, I do not feel like I have been running for three weeks straight, proving my suspicion that at my level, a single mile is so easy that my body does not really feel it. It is an awesome state of fitness.
For day 20, I took an easy day and only ran about 32 minutes on soft trails. I have a ambitious mileage goal for this weekend, and the weather is going to be above 90 degrees everyday for a stretch, so I wanted a little recovery.
Today, for day 21, I ran 45 minutes on a firm packed dirt and gravel trail. It got hot very early, but there was fortunately a stiff breeze that kept it manageable.
(Day 20: Saucony; Day 21: Saucony TR)

Times Three

2011-07-19T22:40:00.000-04:00

Today was a great training day - the kind that leaves you feeling tough, strong and, of course, exhausted. I completed three - count 'em - three workouts today, although all were short. Still, I feel amazing.

This morning I had a magical run through the woods. It has been very hot and dry here, but last night we finally got some rain from a brilliant thunderstorm and some cooler temperatures. In the morning, a thick fog covered the area and left the woods in a peaceful and misty state. It killed me to end the run, but I had a client waiting. At lunchtime, I got in a solid half-hour of laps in the swimming pool.

In the evening I ran four sets of stair sprints just outside the gym, with several different exercises with weights in between the sets. With the time spent running combined with the strength training aspect and yoga stretching at the end, my evening workout lasted a little more than an hour.

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 19
My quickie trail run in the morning of 21 minutes fulfilled the day's quota, but there is also the 21 minutes worth of stair sprint intervals. I had not previously considered how to figure in intervals. I am undecided right now if they can count, since it is not continuous running. I will have to think about it.
A.M. run: Asics Trabuco, P.M. run: Brooks Defyance (I know - I still need to explain. Tomorrow.)

No rest for the weary

2011-07-18T09:05:00.000-04:00

I was partially awake already when the alarm went off at 6 a.m., but I hit the snooze button to continue my denial that the start of the day had arrived. When the music came on again, the charade was over. I rolled out of bed in less than a great mood and still tired. Less than a half-hour later with several gulps of Gatorade in my stomach, I was out the door.

Gone are the days that I rest or do some easy cross training the day after a long run. Or the day before for that matter. That is the "secret" to training for ultras. The goal, really, is to just get used to always running. In a race, after 10 hours you are going to be tired. So you train when you are tired from the day before, or even from earlier that same day. The weekly long run that marathoners are accustomed to running becomes one of at least a few long runs in a week. For the top ultra runners, every day is a long run, with a couple REALLY long runs each week. Oh, to have that kind of time and stamina!

The sun was just rising above the tree line this morning as I ran down the country road we live on. Going past a barn, a confident rooster was crowing at me as he boldly came to the edge of the road, apparently daring me to get closer to his chicks that ran peeping into the tall grass a few feet away from the shoulder. I did not mess with this guy, but it reminded me of the time I raced a peacock during a long run last summer.

I was out on the same kind of country road, but up near Green Lakes with my summer training group. We ran by a house that had an odd menagerie of birds living on the property, including a brilliant male peacock and his harem of hens. One little lady came racing up to me, squawking the whole way in protest to my presence. Feeling cheeky myself, I verbally challenged the little hen to a race, and to my surprise she actually turned and began running alongside the shoulder I was on. I turned on the heat and we were off, taunting each other the whole race. The yard went on for about 80 meters or so, and so did we. I won, but it was close.

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 18
Only a little over three miles today. My focus was more on getting out again without being fully recovered from yesterday's run than logging any noteworthy distance. As I reported to The Hubbs, the first half mile felt worse than I had expected, but the rest of the distance felt a little better than I expected. (Saucony Guide today - I will explain that later.)

Half-Baked

2011-07-17T22:54:00.000-04:00

I knew that my first long run post-race was going to be tough, but no one mentioned it would be a total slug fest. I ran this morning at Green Lakes State Park with a group training program. Although technically, I ran the course of the Green Lakes Endurance Runs when everyone else went on a different route, so I was not very group-oriented. My planned goal was 20 miles, but I happily called it quits after 19.

The course makes its way from the lakes up through the forest to open grassy fields, known by local runners as The Serengeti. Today it lived up to the name. It got hot early, and although it was supposedly in the 80s when I was running, out in the open sun with the dried grasses absorbing heat, the air temp around me was easily in the mid-90s. I was roasting and all by myself. I had plenty of water in my CamelBak, but I was still struggling. When I finally made it back into the woods during my second (and last) lap, I could not have been more relieved. The final half-mile was literally a stumble. A lot of factors came together today to make the run very difficult, and I was paying the price all afternoon. I was completely sapped, and when I get into bed in a few minutes I expect to find it very, very easy to fall asleep.

I have to be honest, today's conditions bordered on dangerous. I seriously have to remember to bring ice for a bandanna or under my hat the next time I am running up there. Training in the heat is doable, but requires precaution. All I can say to myself and others is when it is this hot, it is not the time to be a hero.

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 17
I more than made it today with about 19 miles on trails. Brutal heat. Bad chafing on my back from my CamelBak. What does not kill us makes us stronger, right?

DMC: Days 15 and 16

2011-07-16T22:03:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Days 15 and 16
Busy times here the past couple days! The Hubbs and I have been enjoying some outings with family. For Friday, I worked in a 45-minute run on a flat hard-packed gravel trail. I felt fatigued from the previous evening's rather hard gym workout, but was able to move steadily along at a decent pace. This morning I only went out for 30 minutes, but I had visiting family members waiting at home for breakfast and I was still feeling sluggish. Since I am going out early tomorrow morning with a plan for 20 miles (my first genuine long run since the race), I took the opportunity to take it a little easy.

VO2 the Max

2011-07-14T22:34:00.000-04:00

The fitness assessment to estimate oxygen uptake was at the same time more fun and less fun than I expected. I ended up covering a little over seven full laps of the track in the 12 minutes, during which I lapped one guy once, and everyone else two or three times. Hence, the less fun part. My competitive spirit is undeniable, but it quickly became apparent that none of my classmates ever run. Once I lapped people for the second time, by urge to "race" subsided. What is the point, when running against non-runners?
Fortunately, it was so much fun to be out running for a lab assignment. It was a pretty day, and the temperature was fantastic for running. Better yet, I was moving along at a very strong and steady pace and I felt fantastic. It became a personal competition to run a hard, even pace and I came through wonderfully. Every now and then a little speed play is a breath of fresh air.

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 14
Two weeks down! Another bonus for this whole fitness assessment - in 12 mere minutes, I made it about 1.8 miles to fulfill the day's quota for running. Thursdays are normally a cross-training and weight lifting day, so this was about as efficient as it gets.

You know you're a runner when ...

2011-07-13T21:18:00.000-04:00

I get a kick out of the "You know you're blah blah when blah blah" lists. So maybe they are cheesy, but I like to laugh and they always do the trick. I have seen a ton about running, from general to race specific and everything in between. I have a new one to add: "You know you're a runner when you get excited for fitness assessments that involve running."

I am currently earning my second bachelor's degree in fitness development to support my second career in the health and fitness field (transforming from a degree in English and career in journalism). Part of my education includes learning how to administer different assessments to determine clients' fitness levels, which entails that we undergo them ourselves and analyze the results.

Tomorrow, I get to do a 12-mile run/walk test designed to estimate VO2 max, or maximum oxygen uptake - an indicator of cardiovascular fitness. I seriously cannot wait. Running on a track instead of sitting in a classroom? Sign me up! I am also quite curious to know (approximately) what is my VO2 max.

This little boost could not have come at a better time. Yesterday I was not feeling the best and got in only a mile. One day of feeling off and unmotivated is not much to be concerned about, but this morning I was feeling very indifferent about running at all. I had clients to train starting at 6 a.m., so I had to wait until mid-morning until I could get my own workout in, and by that point I was feeling even less excited about heading out. Two days in a row in a funk sometimes means more.

Time is tight between clients and class, so procrastinating is dangerous, because I can very quickly get to the point where I no longer have time to run, and it gets pushed until evening. As we know from last night, that does not necessarily work out too well. So although I do not usually do so, today I drove to the nature center as soon as I finished with my clients, thinking that a run on the trails would cheer me up. I decided to try a newer trail that I had not yet run, and I set out telling myself that, at the least, I only had to run out for five minutes and if I was still not into running, I could turn around and get my minimum 10 minutes for the day. The first few hundred meters was nothing to be impressed about; the trail path was covered with gravel and rocks, and there was virtually no tree cover. Then, the trail turned and, squinting through the glare of the sun, I saw the trail make its way into a thick covering of trees.

It was like entering another world. I felt I was in the middle of a picturesque screen saver, and a smile spread across my face. Then I heard the musical call of a wood thrush and all was right in the world. I looked down at my watch and saw 11 minutes had passed like nothing. I do not think this particular trail gets a lot of traffic because there was a peaceful air of solitude. I ended up going for half an hour. At first I was disappointed, but then reconsidered. I have had a bit of a stressful week, and I have not been taking care of myself as well as I should be as far as sleep, nutrition and time management goes. Combine that with it not even being two weeks since the big 50-miler, and I realize I probably still need to take it a little easy on myself. The feelings of stress and fatigue - and just being off in general - are signs that something is not right. Fortunately I had a great little stint on a fantastic trail to put things in perspective.

I plan to have a whole lot of fun showing off my stuff during the assessment tomorrow, and cutting myself a little bit of a break for the next few days.

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 13

Half an hour in the woods. Great times!

100 + 1

2011-07-12T21:44:00.000-04:00

I am following another blogger as she runs the Badwater Ultramarathon. Her last post (published by one of her crew members about three hours ago) announced her arrival at the 100-mile mark - only 35 to go!

So here is the score:
Awesome, inspirational stranger: 100 miles
Ultra Jade: 1 mile

Yup, that is all I managed. Life got in the way today. I had a lot going on, but I did not have a good plan going into the day, which makes it very difficult to manage time effectively. By the time I was heading home a little after 6 p.m., I had a headache and was worn out, tired and hungry. I did want to run, but I my desire to finally relax and eat some dinner was far greater. So tonight was a bare minimum night.

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 12
1.2 miles in a little over 10 minutes, to the end of my road and back. I saw two adorable bunnies and two overweight women walking with (presumably) their daughters. It does not get less interesting than that!

DMC: Days 10 & 11

2011-07-11T22:03:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Days 10 & 11
I did not get around to blogging last night, but not to fear - I got my mile in (and then some). I went an easy half hour Sunday evening. It was pretty hot, and the loop I was running was quite hilly, but I got through it. I let that be my last easy day of recovery, and today it was back to work.
This morning I ran for an hour. After about 40 minutes my legs were really feeling fatigued, but I expected as much for the first time that I pushed past a half hour. This evening I was in the gym to lift some weights. Training has resumed!

Running Bucket List

2011-07-11T14:47:00.001-04:00

The Badwater Ultramarathon is under way out in California. For those who are unfamiliar, it is a 135-mile road race that first stretches across Death Valley, then goes over two mountain ranges and ends halfway up Mount Whitney, which is the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States. It is arguably one of the most difficult ultras out there, so naturally I want to someday run it.

In honor of this race and the amazing ultra athletes who are out there melting the soles of their sneakers on the road, I present my running bucket list. I had "Run a marathon" and "Run an ultramarathon" on my life bucket list and when I crossed those off, I realized I had a lot of running goals that deserved their own list. It is still a work in progress that I will be adding to. Badwater is essentially unobtainable at this point, but I hope to someday be there. Until then, I have some more realistic goals to keep me occupied.

In no particular order:

The Badwater Ultramarathon
Western States Endurance Run
The Tough Mudder
A wife-carrying race (Google it!)
A hundred-miler (any one will do)
A full Ironman Triathlon
A running cruise (Simply a cruise that features a road race at every stop)
The Dipsea Race
A pack burro race
A marathon on every continent (which means one in Antarctica)
The course of the "originial" marathon from Marathon to Athens, Greece
The Bermuda Triangle Challenge during the Bermuda International Race Weekend
Hood to Coast Relay
Goofy's Race and a Half Challenge during the Walt Disney World Marathon weekend

DMC: Day 9

2011-07-09T21:13:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 9
Just over three miles this morning, just after sunrise. What a great way to start the day!

DMC: Day 8

2011-07-08T22:19:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 8
We have friends visiting for the weekend, and playing hostess inevitably interferes a little with running. Today I was under pressure to get the home front ready for their arrival, and it was a squeeze to fit a run in. I ended up going only about a mile and a half because that was all I had time for. If it was not for this challenge, I likely would not have gone out at all. Which is one reason why I am doing this in the first place. I got out on a day when I otherwise would not have, and even though it was only a mile and a half, these single miles from these types of days will add up over time. So on day eight, this whole thing has proved its usefulness already.

It's been one week ....

2011-07-08T00:25:00.001-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 7
I have made it one week - only 51 more to go! I was back on the trails for the first time since the race, and although I ran the easiest trail on the nature center's property, I was definitely feeling fatigued. I was in a nice rhythm and felt light on my feet, but was breathing heavier than normal, and my leg muscles burned a bit more than they should have for the terrain. I do not know exactly my distance, but I ran for 30 minutes. It was hot and humid, with no real breeze to speak of. Oh, and I cannot forget to mention all the fabulous biting flies that were out to get me. A great run it was not, but I was still happy to get back out there. I know I will soon be up to speed and ease.

Addicted

2011-07-06T21:50:00.000-04:00

So what is more crazy? The fact that I ran a 50-mile trail race by choice, or that I loved the experience so much that I cannot wait to do it again? It is practically all I am thinking about. If I could do another ultra this weekend, I probably would - I am that eager to do it again. I do not know how to describe in the best words what I feel, but I guess in short, I am hooked. A 50K is so close to a marathon in distance that when I ran it last summer I could not truly appreciate what ultras are all about. I got a small taste, but it took going 50 miles for me to really understand, and I love it. It really is running in its finest and purest form.

In regards to the 100K planned for the end of August, what was once feelings of uncertainty and a little bit of fear is now excitement and anticipation. The marathon I have planned for mid-October is starting to feel like an interruption from my ultras. Oh my, what has become of me?

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 6

Today was another very short day - about one and a quarter miles in 11 minutes this morning. I felt good, and pretty light and comfortable on my feet. I also walked up three flights of stairs without getting winded later in the day, and my energy levels have returned to the standard "perky" range. It seems that all systems have returned to normal, and with two straight days of feeling like this I think I am in the clear to start going a bit longer and see what happens.

DMC: Day 5

2011-07-05T22:53:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 5
I ran 1.2 miles again tonight, but this time nearly a minute and a half faster than yesterday. Finally, I am getting back to my regular pace - at least for short distances. I say finally in jest, because to be back to normal pace a mere three days after a 50-mile ultra is insane. It is great to recover so well, and is a good indication of my conditioning.
Which means it is time to start doing more than the bare minimum. I need to get back to adding up the miles, because the next big race is less than two months away. The rest of the week will still be easy, but I need to be ready to get back to regular training next week.

Finger Lakes Fifties 50-miler

2011-07-05T18:13:00.012-04:00

Finally, an account of my 50-mile race. I know it is long. So was the race.

Race morning, July 2, had finally arrived. As usual, The Hubbs and I left home about 10 minutes behind schedule, so I got to the registration tent to pick up my bib number and such with about 45 minutes before the start of the race. After making a trip to the bathroom and setting up our little camp, I began fussing with the ankle strap of my timing chip, which was clearly not designed for ankles as small as mine. I was debating back and forth about putting the chip on my shoelaces instead, eventually deciding against it since I would potentially be changing my shoes later on. Finally, necessity forced me to accept that I was just going to have to get over it and make due with the strap because I had only about 10 minutes left. As most runners were headed for the starting line a short walk away, I was still pinning my number to my shorts. Jeff and I managed to stay calm as we checked off that I had what I would need and finally headed out.

I got to the starting line with only about two minutes to spare, and most of that time was dedicated to getting my shoelaces tied just right and the ends tucked under. I swear, one of these days, I am going to actually miss the start of a race. Jeff was saying something, probably very sweet and supportive, but I have to admit I did not really hear what it was. My mind was focused on nothing else but the challenge ahead. I had trained hard to get to this day. My CamelBak was full of cold, fresh water. Two gels were tucked in the pack's zipper pouch, a small snack bag of Annie's cheddar bunnies was in one pocket of my shorts, and a small energy bar and a tube of Chapstick was in the other pocket. My timing chip was securely around my right ankle, and Body Glide was where it needed to be. I was as ready as I could be, and the only thing left to do was actually go through with it.

The race director was announcing instructions through a bullhorn, but with all the people around me talking, I could not hear a word. The chatter began to die down and I heard the race director say, "OK is everybody ready?!" She said a few more things as I stood ready to start. Then, at the clanging of a cow bell, we were off. The group included both 50K and 50-mile runners, so there were nearly 200 of us trotting down the dirt road a short distance before turning onto the trail leading into the woods. It became immediately apparent who was running the 50K, because half of the group broke away at a much faster pace. I tried not to pay attention to the crowd and focused on hanging back with the other 50-milers.

Once in the woods, the trail primarily allowed only single-file running, and it was during the first mile or so that I came to meet Ashley, another women running the 50-mile. A small group of us was silently running in a line when my left foot caught a tree root, and I started to trip forward. My right foot planted immediately to steady my balance, but it was not a firm landing so I started to then lunge forward to the left. Fortunately I managed to get good footing with my next step and with the help of some wild arm swinging I prevented a face plant. The woman ahead of me, having heard my scuffling, asked if I was OK. I assured her I was, laughed and commented that it was way too early for me to be tripping and falling. Ashley, just behind me, offered a little reassurance, which sparked a friendly running friendship for the remainder of the race.

At only age 25, Ashley was running her fourth 50-miler. Talk about an inspiration for a newbie like me! I had run the 50K distance before, but this was my first attempt at 50 miles, so it was a good boost of motivation. She was a great running buddy and we got through the first lap of the course comfortably in three hours and 20 minutes. It seemed to go by so fast. The race was definitely off to a good start.

At the main aid station/finish area, Jeff was the best crew a runner could ask for: filling my CamelBak with fresh water, rolling up a bandanna with ice for my neck and making sure I got fresh Glide and bug spray. I took time to eat some soup and a little bit of a sandwich, and change my socks before heading out for lap two. Ashley had left a few moments prior, and I was just hoping to catch back up to her for some good company. It was about four miles in that I finally saw her up ahead. At last!

We got into a comfortable pace together and soldiered through the miles, working our way from aid station to aid station. With so many miles still before us, taking three at a time was the best way to approach what lay ahead. We would arrive at an aid station, get what we needed quickly and be back on our way. We repeated this processes over and over until we were about 29 miles in, when we started to separate. Getting through the next four miles was my first real test of resolve, as I was pretty much alone the entire way. Only a few times did I see another runner in passing. The thought of finally picking up Jeff for the third lap was my primary focus of motivation.

With 33 miles down, I was once again at race headquarters. The Hubbs refilled everything I needed as I traded my mud-covered shoes for some fresh ones with a roomier toe box to better accommodate my hurting, swollen feet. The first- and second- place finishers in the 50-mile race were already done when I headed out (the winner actually lapped me between my 31st and 32nd miles), but I had to continue to soldier on. The second-place finisher offered some very kind words to boost my spirits, and we were off.

A side note about the winner. He came up on me silently, whisked by and went bounding forward like a graceful gazelle - a beautiful, light-footed creature moving strong yet delicately through the woods, with his footfalls on the soft pine needles barely audible. It was complete art in motion. I saw one last streak of his blue shirt as the trail ahead turned, and then he was gone.

Back to my slow self, and now with Jeff by my side now serving as my faithful pacer, it was like a new adventure. Everything I had experienced during the first 33 miles was now a bunch of stories to tell:
This is where I tweaked my right ankle. There is where I tweaked my left.
This is where I tripped and almost ate trail, and where I met Ashley.
This is where I met the guy with the flames on his shorts - the one who has run 75 ultras.
Up ahead is where the really friendly search-and-rescue people are stationed.
This is the stretch where Ashley and I were running with Tim. Man, were we moving along well!
This is right around where I tweaked my right ankle for the second time.
This is the aid station where the high school cross country team was volunteering; they were so enthusiastic!
This is the aid station where I was talking with a volunteer about body glitter.
Going up this hill is where I was talking to a guy named Hiroshi - he is running the Vermont 100 in two weeks - how awesome is that?
That is where I saw the cute horses that were rubbing each other's faces with their noses.

There are so many more details that filled the miles (far more than I can completely share here), but most notably talking with the AWESOME volunteers and feeling bad-ass that I was running a race that involved search-and-rescue teams. There was the triumph of remembering to go to the right at the end of the second long pasture crossing so I did not splash through a cow-crap filled water pit, and the challenge of having to crab-walk down a steep decent into a ravine because my legs were too tired after 43 miles to brace myself in an upright posture.

During the first lap, I had gotten into a regular schedule with refueling. At each aid station, I ate a handful of potato chips or pretzels, drank a cup of Heed (endurance energy drink) and took a Twizzler for the road. Between stations, I sipped from my CamelBak and nibbled a few cheddar bunnies. At the main station it was tomato soup and bites of a sandwich or peanut butter-filled crackers with some Gatorade. This continued until about mile 41, when at an aid station I reached for my regular Twizzler and the thought of it suddenly turned my stomach. I was feeling a little full, and I knew I had finally reached the point where my stomach had enough of processing solid food while my body was working. It was going to have to be Accel gels and water the rest of the way. While mentally planning my refueling for the remaining miles, I realized I had two more aid stations to go through on the course, and then it was on to the main station. About three miles apart, that meant only about nine miles to go. Which meant I had covered FORTY. ONE. MILES. On foot, practically continuously.

For the first time, I felt overwhelmed. I felt exhausted. My feet really hurt. So did my knees. My shoulders were tired from carrying my hydration pack all day. My face was covered with dried, crusty salt. The late afternoon sun was sinking in the sky, across from where it had risen early that morning when I started running. Tears welled a little in my eyes, and I took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm tired," I said to Jeff. His reply was simple and sensitive. "I know."

And then I just started walking onward, and after a dozen or so steps, back to my slow but steady running pace. The next three or four miles were probably the hardest as I tried to wrap my head around what I was doing, when I finally just gave up thinking about it. We reached the last outpost of search-and-rescue personnel at the top of a hill, where the young man and woman stationed there had finally put up an awning of sorts to get some shade cover. "How are you doing?" he asked, looking carefully at me to apparently gauge my mental state. I gave him a tired smile, and told him I was happy to see they finally put up their tent and were no longer baking in the sun. He laughed and offered me a cup of ice cold water, which I happily accepted.

With only about five miles to go, we headed out, and over the remainder of the course I surprised myself with how well I was moving, making constant steady progress to the finish. Jeff confessed that he, too, was a bit surprised with how well I was holding up. I cannot say for sure, but I think it has a lot to do with my determination to keep a positive and friendly attitude toward everything and everyone. At the final aid station on the course, I managed to get down an energy gel to fuel the final stretch. Ashley and her pacer, her friend Gretchen, arrived as Jeff and I were heading out. I had not seen her since I had moved ahead nearly 18 miles earlier. I was so glad to see her making such good progress, and we happily proclaimed that finally, there was just one more aid station to run to: the one at the end.

The final miles were challenging mostly because of how many roots there were to step over on that part of the trail. I managed to get through them without a single trip, another surprise. Finally, we were running around the pond that was a mere quarter mile from the main aid station. Upon completing the third lap, I had to get through a final "baby loop" of a half-mile to get to a full 50, and as we entered the finish area, a volunteer announced "Runner coming!" and then the applause started. I saw the clock reading 11 hours, 44 minutes and 47 seconds. I asked Jeff if it was correct, and with his reassurance that it was, I only had one thought: Holy hell that's a long time. Then I took in all the volunteers, runners and spectators standing, smiling and clapping for me as I crossed the mat to officially finish my third lap of the course. That support was amazing.

With a half mile to go, I finally ditched the CamelBak, and all the pain and exhaustion faded away. My body found new fuel to power my legs, and that half mile felt like a simple trot around my yard. I came cruising into the finish area for the final time, and with a crowd of people cheering me I officially finished my first 50-mile trail race in 11 hours, 50 minutes and three seconds. Almost immediately, a volunteer was giving me my "medal": a metal beer bottle opener on a black lanyard. Moments later, Ashley crossed the finish line, and we shared a big celebratory hug.

Somehow - I am still not really sure how - I had made it through. It could not have happened without the dedicated support of all the wonderful volunteers, the friends I made along the way, and my awesome husband acting as my crew and pacer. Thank you to all for making this one of the best experiences of my life. I am already counting down for next year's race.

DMC: Day 4

2011-07-04T22:37:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 4
I am still moving pretty slow, but at least I am moving. Today I made it about 1.2 miles in just under 12 minutes. I will probably keep it very short over the next few days, but at least I am getting in my daily mile. To do so coming off of the 50-miler was a huge challenge, and I am happy to say I have made it through.

DMC: Day 3

2011-07-03T22:13:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 3
Well, it was slow and sluggish, but in 9 minutes and 41 seconds I got through my mile for the day. I shuffled around the local high school's spongy track, with my glycogen-deprived muscles complaining the whole way.

The good news is that I am feeling far better than I imagined I would be a mere 24 hours after finishing 50 miles. While my muscles are fatigued and sore, and my joints stiff after sitting in one position for too long, I can move pretty well.

The official results are in: I finished 50 miles in 11:50:03 - one of 46 total runners to complete the distance. Everything about this is still settling in, so my recap of the race will have to wait until tomorrow.

DMC: Day 2

2011-07-02T21:36:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 2

So did I get in my mile for the day? You bet - plus an extra 49. Too exhausted to write more, so the trail race recap is going to have to wait for tomorrow.

DMC: Day 1

2011-07-01T22:43:00.000-04:00

Daily Mile Challenge: Day 1
And so it begins. I ran a single easy mile today around the track at the local high school. It served as a shakeout for tomorrow's 50-mile trail race. I wish I had more time to share my thoughts about it, but I need to get to bed.

Know this: I am intimidated, excited, nervous and anxious. I am trying not to think about the whole picture, because it overwhelms me. I just plan to do my best and soldier through it.

The Final Rest Day

2011-06-30T10:39:00.000-04:00

I am not running today. This is significant because I have decided to put into action the goal of running at least one mile every single day for a year, starting tomorrow - my 32nd birthday.

As part of my taper for Saturday's race, the plan for today was only 20 laps in the pool and a half-hour of yoga, which I did this morning. For the rest of the day I get to savor taking a break from running. If all goes well, it will be at least a year before I can do this again so you better believe I am making the most of it.

The rules are simple:
1) For every calendar day (12:00 a.m. to 11:59 p.m.) from July 1, 2011, to June 30, 2012, I will run a minimum of one complete mile. If, and only if, it is not possible to measure the distance of where I am running, I will run for a minimum of 10 minutes to adequately ensure the distance is covered.

OK, so it is only one rule. Even easier. I will make every attempt to post a daily update, either standalone or at the bottom of a longer post, to keep track of my progress.

Dream Big

2011-06-28T14:40:00.005-04:00

Believe deep down in your heart that you're destined to do great things.

- Joe Paterno

I daydream a lot when running. When I am comfortably cruising along, I allow my mind to wander and it usually always finds its way to imagining the impossible - like winning the Olympic marathon or something equally outlandish. As they say, if you are going to go for it - go BIG, right? So in my Olympic debut, I am not even a second thought, just an alternate who somehow made it into the race. I slowly move up the ranks, and as the favorites begin to fall apart, I come on strong to win gold in a final sprint in the stadium. Basically, the stuff of movies.

I let myself dream big. If nothing else, it entertains me as the miles go by. It usually gives me a boost of motivation, something of which you can never have too much. A squirt of adrenalin sometimes kicks in, too.

Visualization is a good thing. It serves as good mental preparation, and running is so much a mental challenge that you need to train your mind as much as your body. I also think it is good to dream. It is important to know the difference between feasibility and reality, of course (I accept I will never make it to the Olympics), but equally important to give yourself a chance to do something amazing, even if it is only in your mind.

Having now run on the course for the Finger Lakes Fifties races, I am better able to mentally prepare for my attempt at 50 miles. I know what I am going to have to get through, and while it scares me, I stand ready to try. Which means that when I let my mind go while running yesterday, I was not running to victory in a marathon held in some far away metropolis, but in the forests of upstate New York. In record time to boot. After falling down a hill in the woods and getting bruised and bloodied.

There is no chance I can win this thing, because to do so would require me to run far faster than I am capable of over this distance. I simply hope to finish, and under 11 hours would be fantastic. The only thing that might come true from my daydream is the bruised and bloodied part. Still, for the first time during the buildup to this race, I actually believe I can finish this sucker.

Allow yourself to imagine the impossible, so you can then take a chance on being great.

Ultra Madness

2011-06-25T22:58:00.001-04:00

Today I had the chance to run the course for next Saturday's 50-mile trail race. The 16.5-mile loop took a little more than three hours to cover, so I better plan on running well over 10 hours for the big event.

Shit.

Pain in the ...

2011-06-23T14:18:00.000-04:00

I woke up in the middle of the night from a deep aching pain in both knees. It happens occasionally, although I am not really sure why. I am not in pain during my waking hours - running or otherwise, so I attribute it to growth and development, the normal physiological changes that a human body undergoes when it is physically trained.

I try to avoid taking painkillers in general, and I never take them to be able to run. I did that in high school to mask pain, and I would like for the stress fractures I developed from that to be the only ones of my lifetime. When it comes to resting comfortably, though, I will not hesitate to grab some ibuprofen to ease the pain. I figure if I cannot sleep, how is my body supposed to fully repair itself?

That is what I did last night, and I lounged on the couch with ice packs on my knees for a bit until the pain relievers kicked in a bit. Then it was just back bed and business as usual.

Bugged Out

2011-06-22T12:20:00.001-04:00

There is no denying it - running is sometimes pretty unglamorous. We sweat and stink, blow snot rockets, get nervous "runner's runs" before races, pee in the woods or (depending who you are) our pants. Since most running happens outside, once the weather gets warm the bugs factor in as well.

My evening run yesterday was on the trails. It was warm and humid, so the bugs were out in full force.The trail I took went in and out of the woods through grass fields, where the deer flies were vicious. I was practically sprinting through the fields to get back to the relative safety of the woods where only mosquitoes were after me. The whole time, I was thinking that I just had to share what happened on Sunday, about 18 or 19 miles into my run.

First, a question. Who has NOT swallowed a bug or gotten a bug in the eye while running? Probably not that many have escaped this scenario. I am not actually taking a poll here, but rather making a point that ties in with what started this whole thing. Running can be gross. Getting a bug in your eye or stuck in your throat qualifies. Well, just when you think it cannot get worse, it does.

I was running along, happily unaware, when I must have closed my mouth for a split second for something, and in that instant I inhaled through my nose. With the air went a bug, straight up my right nostril and got stuck way up in my nasal passage. STUCK!! As if that was not enough of a shock, as I was coming to terms with what had just happened, I realized I could feel it wiggling around in there!

A bug. Stuck in my sinuses. ALIVE AND MOVING.

It was one of the most horrifying sensations. I felt like I belonged on that show "Monsters Inside Me." I started blowing out through that one nostril with all my lung power, hoping to dislodge the beastie, to no avail. Finally, I started feeling a sneeze coming on. Great, I thought, this has to do the trick. I let that sneeze go for all it was worth. The bug was still up there. The sneeze did, however, loosen up some mucus in my nose, so I pulled the front of my shirt up to my face and gave one last, hard blow. With much satisfaction, I saw that amid the snot that now covered the front of my shirt was a mushed black blob that had been the invader.

Rebound

2011-06-21T10:39:00.000-04:00

If there is one thing I can say about myself is that I can always manage to come through a storm. I was really down on myself and in general the last time I blogged. Afterward, I did manage to get my head in the game and get out running. I covered seven miles that afternoon. Saturday morning, with a little help from The Hubbs, I logged another eight. Sunday morning was the long one, and we went a little over 20 on trails - the GLER course, as a matter of fact. It was great to get back there. It really is my favorite place to run, so it was a great boost in more ways than one.

It was a good amount of miles for a weekend, and I handled the 20-miler without a rest day before a lot better than I did the previous weekend. Which is good since in less than two weeks I am going to take a stab at the 50-miler. When I first started running marathons, I was counting down a couple weeks in advance, but as I grew into a veteran marathoner, that went by the wayside.Not so much for the ultras. This upcoming race is a BIG one, and I am well aware most minutes of most days that it is coming whether I like it or not. Eleven days to go. That is it.

I am running doubles today, a single long run tomorrow, swimming on Thursday morning and potentially stadium sprints Thursday afternoon. Friday will be another double day, and on Saturday I get the treat of running the 16.5-mile loop that is the race course to familiarize myself with what I will have to endure three times around. After that, just cruising until July 2, which I think I may rename Dooms Day.

Time for Brutal Honesty

2011-06-17T11:56:00.001-04:00

Some people have the misconception that I can always just get up and go get to running. Let me share a little secret - they are wrong. Here I am, sitting in bed with my laptop. It is nearly noon. I have done nothing except surf around on the Internet since I woke up almost three hours ago.

Every week, Friday is MY day. It is a day off from work and classes, and since The Hubbs does not get that luxury, I am on my own. The plan has always been that I would wake up relatively early on Fridays and get an hour-or-so run in before getting started with whatever needed to get done: errands, laundry, housework, homework, etc. Then again in the early evening, head out for another hour-long run.

Jeff gets up very early on Fridays (today for example, was about 5 a.m.). I ask him to wake me up right before he leaves. I always intend to get up at that point, but I have been too tired lately, as I am up between 5 and 6 a.m. Monday through Thursday and since I am not the best about getting to bed early, it leaves me shortchanged on sleep. By Friday, I am in a deficit that I need to make up. Today, when Jeff was heading out the door, I set the alarm for about 7 a.m. to get an extra hour of rest. Then, I told myself, I will get moving.

Nothing too terrible yet, right? Well, 7 a.m. and the alarm comes, and I decide I am not yet feeling it. So I turn off the alarm and go back to sleep. Fast forward to 9 :15 a.m. I wake up, finally fully rested. Although it is a lot later than I originally wanted to get started, it is not too late to go with my original plan. So what do I do? I grab the laptop and pretend I am just going to update my iPod with some new podcasts to listen to during the run, and then I am going to get moving. Then I start checking e-mail, browsing Bed Bath and Beyond online because I have a coupon, reading Yahoo! "news" stories and so on. Basically, I am AVOIDING MY RUN.

There I said it. When no one is around to know the difference, I am here slacking off. People think I am so dedicated and so perfect with my training, but I am not. All the other days of the week, I can be great. But it is because I have to train a client at 6 a.m. and squeeze in my run before I open the gym or go to a class. It is because I am meeting a girlfriend to swim for cross-training. It is because I have run before I meet a friend at the gym to lift. It is because my husband is here with me.

When someone else is counting on me, or when a busy schedule demands it, I can get in my training the way I planned. But on my own with nothing to drive me, I CANNOT DO IT.

Writing this blog is another way to avoid it, but at least this is somewhat therapeutic because I am admitting I have a problem. Not that there are a whole lot of people who read this thing to get my confessional, but it is a start. I am scared and angry and ashamed that I pull this stunt every time. I wish I could explain why. How about that I am so sick of the only three routes I have by by my house that I dread heading out? Or that I am so sick and tired of running nearly every step alone that I have no motivation by the end of the week? Or that, in trying to solve the problem of hating the routes from my house, when I try to come up with somewhere to drive to, I cannot find any good running routes? Cheap excuses or genuine reasons?

Ultimately what it comes down to is I NEED HELP. I need a training group, or a coach - something. The Hubbs is a great running partner, but we have different schedules and training plans. Long Sunday runs are about all we can get in together. Other than him, there is no one else, and clearly I cannot get the job done.

I hate myself for this.

The Pack

2011-06-14T23:43:00.001-04:00

The Hubbs and I are friends with a number of people from our running community. Two of them in particular, Mark and Monica, and the two of us have bonded over many training miles, weekend meals and even a tailgate cookout. Collectively, we have banded together to form The Pack.

Mark, a.k.a. The Predator, was the one who started it all. One summer morning, we were running on a trail course. The four of us were moving along somewhat fast, smoothly and in unison; it was like we had been running together all our lives. We had grown quiet, all enjoying the vibe we were sharing, until Mark spoke up.

"You know what I feel like?" he asked."I feel like we're a pack of dogs running down prey." We laughed, but you know what? It was true. We were moving like a pack of fleet-footed hunters, covering ground lightly and quickly, probably just how our ancestors did running down antelope in the African savanna.

We embraced our new identity, and still get a laugh whenever Mark speaks up with his now-trademark question, "you know what I feel like?"

Today while running on my usual trail, I came across a man who was apparently too fixated on whatever it was that he was looking at to notice me approach. As I passed by, he reacted with surprise, and told me that I startled him. "Wow, I thought you were some kind of wild animal running through the woods!" he said. I apologized for startling him, but I could not help but smile.

That's right, I thought to myself, I am a wild animal running through the woods. If only I had my pack with me ...

Inspired

2011-06-13T23:32:00.000-04:00

Yesterday during my post-run ice bath, I was watching a YouTube video about Terry Fox - www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjgTlCTluPA - and man, what a boost. I had struggled with the 20 miles I covered, mainly because I had logged an hour-long run the day before when I normally rest. I am working my way up to an approach used by ultra runners - logging a three-hour run on each of a few consecutive days. I am not yet up to covering 60 miles in three days, but I am starting with getting used to logging a mid-distance run the day before and after a very long run and working my way up.

I was a little frustrated because it was slow going today, and I walked a few times. Mentally, I was discouraged thinking about what it meant for my upcoming 50-miler.

Back to Terry Fox and his Marathon of Hope back in 1980. His story is not new to me, that he ran a marathon every day for months on a prosthetic leg to raise money for cancer research. Still, watching the video was an inspiration. He and other runners like him have faced far greater challenges than mine and accomplished amazing things. It changes my perspective a bit, and reminds me we are all capable of greatness, as long as we do not fear trying to achieve it.

Into the Unknown

2011-06-10T23:34:00.000-04:00

With the Ottawa Marathon now in the past, my training has shifted gears to be more appropriate for ultra preparation. In three weeks, I am going to make an attempt at 50 miles. I was talking with a friend about it yesterday, and had to admit that psychologically, I still cannot get my head around the fact that I will be running for at least nine straight hours. I have to look at it that I will be running a few three-hour runs, because I can comprehend a three-hour run. Things may change during the next few weeks as a I continue to prepare, but it is likely that even on race day, I will still look at it as a series of three-hour runs.

In a past post when I was discussing the GLER 100K, I raised a key question: What if I cannot handle 62 miles?

That is really the root of all that intimidates me about the 50-miler and 100K for which I am signed up. In the case of the marathon, even my first, I knew a lot could happen over 26 miles and that a finish was not guaranteed (I know that applies to technically any race, but just go with me on this). Deep inside, though, I just somehow knew I would indeed finish.

At the start of the 2005 Steamtown Marathon I was nervous, but also calm and peaceful about what I was undertaking. I had the same feeling last summer before tackling a 50K - my first ultra. Five miles farther than a marathon it might be, but I knew I could do it. When I passed the marathon mark and into new territory during that race, I was alone on the trail in the middle of a field. I smiled, said "told you so" to myself and kept on moving.

Now, for the first time in my life, I flat-out do not know if I will be able to finish a race. I think that is what makes this so hard, facing the certain truth that I may very well fail at this attempt. I truly hope that if that happens I will remember what I am telling myself now, quoting John Bingham: "The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start."

The Daily Mile

2011-06-04T22:44:00.001-04:00

I have been contemplating setting a goal for myself to run a minimum of one mile each and every day for a year. Through recovery, through taper, through sickness ... through anything. Naturally, January 1 lends itself to a good day for embarking on such journeys, but I want this to start my own unique way, so I have another idea.

My birthday is approaching; July 1 to be exact, the midpoint of the year. I feel that might be a bit more appropriate, as this is a crazy personal goal and should be started on a noteworthy personal day. My birthday is as far from January 1 as you can get, no matter which direction you go. Perfect.

It may not be the most logical choice, since right from the get-go I will face what may be my toughest challenge. Remember that on July 2 I will make an attempt at a 50-mile trail race. Which means July 3, just three days into the Daily Mile Challenge, I will have to try to get through a mile after (hopefully) going 50 the day before.

It does not make much sense, does it? Well, today at our little 5K race, The Hubbs and I had a pretty good day. I turned in a 22:49 performance. Not a PR, but not too shabby six days after a marathon, either. The Hubbs one-upped me with a PR of 21:24. We met up at the finish line, and when he told me what he ran, all I could say was, "seriously?" I did not believe it at first. I do not think he believes it himself just yet, because there is no reason behind what occurred.

See, stuff like that is not supposed to happen. But then, a lot of stuff that is not supposed to happen always does. Things that have never happened before happen every day. While there is wisdom and logic behind NOT running every day, what law of nature says it cannot happen?

There are a number of reasons I want to try this. There are, of course, other runners who have run every day for a year - for years and years on end. So it is certainly feasible. I am hoping it will help me become a better runner. Mostly, I am hoping it will help with my motivation. Even when I have a carefully planned running schedule, I get in funks when I say screw it. If I have a goal to run at least one mile every day, maybe on the tough days it will get me out when otherwise I would not. Especially if I manage to rack up a good streak of miles I will not want to lose. It may not work, but nothing else seems to have been effective in getting me out on bad days. Maybe it is time to try something new.

Moving on

2011-06-03T13:20:00.000-04:00

One of the more difficult things about a marathon is something a lot of people do not think about at first: coming down from the high. After months of training and anticipation, the big day finally comes. However the race turns out, there should still be a sense of exuberance and accomplishment from finishing.

Then the next day comes and you realize that while you may have become a member of an elite club of people who discovered that they really can do anything, life still goes on. You go back to work or school just like you did before the race, and the excitement fades. Often you are left wondering, "now what do I do?"

I have found that it helps to have a plan for what I call the "What Now?" phenomenon. I try to have another race on my schedule to focus on so I do not get caught in a post-marathon slump of directionless running. When you get stuck in that rut, it is easy to wind down and stop altogether.

For me, it is the Finger Lakes Fifties 50-mile trail run, and I am feeling pretty nervous about it. I was hoping this week would have gone a little better training-wise, because I am taking on that beast only four weeks from tomorrow. I have recovered well from Ottawa, but my mileage has been minimal this week. On Monday, The Hubbs and I took a leisurely long walk around Ottawa for some sightseeing, and that helped my muscles and joints immensely. I would have liked to run on Tuesday, but it ended up being a very long and busy day. I went out on Wednesday morning, and despite being a little stiff and sluggish, I was OK for the 20 minutes I was running.

I did a little bit of strength training on Wednesday as well. It was just a handful of body weight exercises, but my glycogen stores were apparently not completely restored, because I was very tired, stiff and sore yesterday. I took the day off, but the effects still lingered today as I once again had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. I am going to head out in a little bit for an easy three miles, and tomorrow I am running in a local 5K race. There will be no racing! This one is a fundraiser and is just for fun. Sunday, I hope to feel well enough go get through an easy hour-long run.

It is times like these that are the toughest struggle. I would love to just take it easy, but I need to fight through it if I am going to be ready to take on the challenges I have set before myself. I am really longing for some company in my training. I sense a lot of lonely miles in the near future.

The Ottawa Marathon

2011-05-29T23:47:00.000-04:00

The wake-up alarm came early this morning, 4:30 a.m. to be exact. Any other day, I would have dragged out of bed slowly. This, however, was not any other day. Marathon morning had finally arrived and I was up like a shot.

The Hubbs and I had a plan to leave our hotel, conveniently two whole blocks from the starting line, by 6 a.m. As usual, our departure time came and went as we got ready for the race. Punctuality is not our strong point. We remained relatively calm, and headed out the door about 10 minutes late.

It was a warm and humid morning, and a fine mist was falling as we gathered in the starting corral. I decided to wear just my shorts and a sports bra, as the temperature was supposed to creep to nearly 75 degrees. I followed my plan to start easy and comfortable, and enjoyed the sights of downtown Ottawa, which included a short tour through Chinatown.

The fans offered fantastic support, and many held up homemade signs. One in particular caught my attention: "Tough times don't last, but tough people do!" I first saw it about two or three miles in, and several times later in the race.

About 6K in, another runner began chatting me up, and decided he was going to follow me and my pace. I was not thrilled with this, but he was harmless enough except for his loud, heavy footfalls that got annoying to listen to. Fortunately, there was also another runner near me who was also in a chatty mood, and he was far better company. He came from northern Alberta, Canada, and was making his first attempt at the marathon. We ended up keeping each other company for about 19 kilometers, and let me tell you, he was having one hell of a debut.

One thing I should have been prepared for was that there were only kilometer markers, which threw a wrench into my pacing. I had some splits to guide my goal time written on my forearm, but only in miles, and none that corresponded equally to kilometers (ie. 5K = 3.1 miles, 8K = 5 miles, etc.), so I had to do some math in my head to gauge about how I was doing.

Fortunately, 15K is just over nine miles, which happened to be a mile split I had written on my hand. I was encouraged from being three minutes under my goal pace. It was about a kilometer later that the trouble began.

It started as an ache in my left foot, but by the halfway point, every footstep was accompanied by a full-blown sharp pain. By about mile 15, my Alberta buddy starting pulling away as I could no longer keep the pace we had been working. Since we had lost Mr. Heavy Feet several miles before, I was now completely on my own to dwell on the fact that there was still a LONG way to go.

Remember how I previously mentioned the voice inside your head that tends to say "you can't do this"? Well, there I was, struggling to keep moving at a limping jog while fighting sharp pain in my left foot and now both hips when the voice started telling me to stop. As if on cue, a spectator appeared with another homemade sign: "Ignore the voices." I clenched my jaw, stared at the ground a few feet ahead, dug deep and kept moving.

The temperature dropped and the rain and wind kicked up as I approached the 30 kilometer mark. (So much for the forecast.) As a marathon works out to be 42.2 kilometers, I was focused on making it to 32, when I could once again do the math and know I had six miles to go. When I finally reached it, I expected to feel relief, but it ended up being only more discouragement. I was struggling to take every step, and that makes six miles a very daunting distance.

I looked at my watch to see about 2 hours and 45 minutes had elapsed. At the pace I was going, I still had another hour. Then there was the voice again, this time saying "I can't do this for another hour." Then, there was the sign again: "Tough times don't last, but tough people do!" So I kept shuffling along, trying not to limp too much.

Then I saw a sight I had been longing to see for miles and miles. The Hubbs! Just ahead, walking. Oh no, I thought, he is walking. Jeff has been sick for a couple weeks, and was worried about how well he was going to do. As I came up alongside him, I was prepared to find a very discouraged husband, but to my pleasant surprise, he greeted me with a huge grin. That was just the boost I needed, and I slowed to walk with him.

We were both in tough shape, hurting and limping, rain dripping off our faces. I said aloud, "Fuck it." Fuck running a good time, fuck feeling bad about myself. We were going to get through it together. We walked a short ways together until I started to get overly chilled from the weather. I had to keep at a run to generate enough heat, so I moved on as Jeff continued to walk.

I ended up stopping briefly twice more, only to regain my composure from the pain that continued to mount. I locked my gaze on the ground a few feet ahead of me and tried to run as light and efficiently as possible. With about three kilometers to go, I thankfully looked up.

Ottawans, you are truly top-notch.

I have gotten into the bad habit of reacting (mentally) to cheers of support when I am not running well. Someone would say, "great job" and in my head I would reply, "yeah right, I suck right now." Today, though, I saw it from their perspective. I was doing awesome. I had fought hard to get through something that so many only dream of completing. In the words of a fan shouting encouragement, "you are the idols of so many!"

During the final kilometer, seeing all those faces and hearing that applause, I finally remembered what it means to defeat this beast, time be damned. I was all smiles and the pain I had battled for 13 miles faded to the background. As I crossed the line in 3:51, all I could think of was that it never felt so good to NOT qualify for Boston.

Marathon Eve

2011-05-28T22:50:00.000-04:00

There is a 4:30 a.m. wake-up call with my name all over it, so it is a good thing that I am feeling a little sleepy. I gave up a long time ago trying to get to bed early the night before a race. With all the excitement and preparation that goes into it, I do not think I have ever gone to bed before 10 p.m.

In a fitting parallel, "Rocky II" is on TV. It is dubbed over in French, which raises the comedic factor a bit, but the scene where Rocky is sprinting up the steps to the art museum is inspiring in any language. Then the scene changes to quiet moments of reflection for Rocky and Apollo the night before the big fight. They have come a long way and trained hard, and the eve of the moment of truth is upon them.

It is a scary and exciting place to be. So much has yet to unfold, and it could be good or bad. Whatever may come, there is a long battle to be fought.

In running a marathon, there may not be a human opponent to beat you down, but rather a brutal distance of 26.2 miles and a demon voice inside your head saying "you can't do this." How well you stand up to them has a lot to do with how well you finish.

Tomorrow I really want to race well, but it is going to be challenging. It is going to be quite warm - mid-60s at the start and mid-70s by the time I should finish. It may be rainy; it will definitely be humid.I want to stay relaxed the first two or three miles and cruise between 8:15 and 8:30 per mile. Then, if all works out, I will feel loose and light, and be ready to really move. If I run the way I know I can run, I will get stronger as the miles go by.

Here's hoping ...

Greetings from Ottawa!

2011-05-28T16:21:00.001-04:00

Race bib? Check.

Timing chip? Check.

Running shoes? Check.

I guess there is not anything else that I need for tomorrow's marathon. OK, so I do need clothes. (Check.)

The Hubbs and I just ate a late lunch at Subway, and over our toasted subs I asked him, "Can you believe we are running a marathon in the morning?" An immediate and simple no was his answer, and I feel the same way. The start is a mere 15 hours away, and I feel oddly calm, almost complacent. I have yet to decide if that is a good thing.

On Thursday I woke up to Jeff's alarm feeling exhausted, and my plan to have a nice morning run went out the window when I decided to go back to sleep for a few hours longer. I worked a short shift, and spent most of the afternoon dozing away. I decided that I would wake up Friday feeling refreshed and get in my last run before the race. Again, though, I woke up feeling dead tired. I went back to sleep once Jeff out for the day, and slept until about 9 a.m. I got up and sat sleepily on the couch watching TV for about an hour, and then went back to bed, napping lightly until nearly 1 p.m. The afternoon slipped by, and I never made it out to run. I have never been so exhausted in the final days before a marathon.

This morning, I awoke early, not fully refreshed but finally not dragging either. I headed out for a two-mile run to see how I felt. I normally do not run quite that far the morning before a marathon, usually just about a mile of jogging and striders, but I did not want to show up at the start line after four full days of no running. And, I figured, if I could not make it 26.2 miles on Sunday, it would not be because I ran two miles on Saturday. I did not feel great, but I felt better than I have all week.

So I am accepting that tomorrow will be what it will be. The previous five days may indicate tomorrow will go horribly wrong, or I may have the best run of my life. I do not think the latter will actually happen, but with the marathon, you never truly can tell what will transpire.

Treadmill, how you let me down ...

2011-05-25T10:21:00.001-04:00

After yesterday's slug fest of a five-miler, today I decided to cover my three miles on the treadmill. Surely I would feel light and easy while running on a machine designed to soften your ride. Right?

Wrong. I actually think I felt more sluggish than yesterday, and I worked up a sweat that three miles should not trigger. I wish I could say it was sweltering in the gym. What is going on? I should feel like a finely tuned machine. Even with as much experience as I have, I still get a little antsy leading up to a big race, and this is not helping. Mind you, it is not as bad as the early marathons - I remember before my first I was counting down about two weeks out and obsessing over everything. Now I start counting a handful of days before, but it usually does not hit me fully that I will be running a marathon until I pick up my bib number at the expo.

For now, I am just trying to keep calm and remind myself that whatever is causing my sluggish feeling, there is not much I can do about it at this point. With four days to go, I am as ready as I am going to be. One more easy run tomorrow, and I am hoping it is a good one to boost my spirits.

Countdown

2011-05-24T20:50:00.002-04:00

Five days to go. Just about only four. That is all that is left until the Ottawa Marathon. On Sunday I covered 8 miles, and did not feel so fantastic. I spent most of Saturday in the car, driving for 11 hours. I woke up the next morning feeling a bit like I had been hit by a bus so I guess it was no surprise that I struggled during the run.

Today, though, I went five miles and felt just as crappy. That concerns me a bit, because by this point I usually feel fantastic from the rest that comes with tapering. My final runs before race day should leave me feeling light of foot, fast and powerful, NOT like some lumbering hippo.

I plan to run about 3 miles tomorrow, and the same on Thursday. I will rest on Friday and just do an easy shake-out jog on Saturday. Hopefully the feeling that I am a fleet-footed messenger goddess will show up soon.

RIP Robin

2011-05-20T14:47:00.001-04:00

About three minutes into my run this morning, I came across a female robin in the middle of the road, stunned after being hit by a car. She was not doing very well, and had her beak wide open while breathing hard. It breaks my heart to see such things, especially because the best thing I can do to help is pick up the bird and move it to the grass where it can at least rest in peace.

This is what I did today for the little robin, and as I started to continue on my way another bird swooped down to where I left her. My heart sank when I realized it was a male robin, possibly her mate. Unable to do anything else, I moved on. Nearly 40 minutes later, I was finishing up my run and returned to the robin. Sadly, she was right where I set her down, but no longer breathing. The male robin was also still there, solidifying my suspicion that it was her mate. Poor robins.

If there is one downside to moving through the world on foot it is that you get an up close view of such things. I know it is the way of nature, but I always feel sad when we lose another animal friend.

Tranquility

2011-05-15T17:07:00.000-04:00

I love how gray, wet weather makes the world so quiet. Today I completed my last long run before the Ottawa Marathon. The temperature was in the mid- to upper 50s, and there was a steady but light, misty rain falling nearly the entire time I was running. In short, it was perfect.

The best part? The only sounds to be heard were my steady breaths, raindrops dripping off newly opened leaves onto the ground below, countless birds singing cheerfully and the crunch of gravel beneath my feet. I saw only a few other people on the trail, and like me, they seemed lost in the peace of the day.

I was on my own today as The Hubbs was not able to run with me. Do not get me wrong, I love running with him for our long training runs. Today, though, being on my own to relish in my surroundings, and focus only on how I felt as I worked through the miles was just what I needed. It was an important reminder about why I am in all of this in the first place.

About three hours and 21 miles after heading out, I got back to my car. In what has become a bit of a tradition, I gave a high-five to the 26.2 sticker on my rear bumper as a toast to another long run completed. I continued walking on the trail for another 10 minutes to cool down, with my face tilted up to the sky. The sensation of misty raindrops on my skin gave me goosebumps, and with every deep breath of clean, fresh air all I could think about is how awesomely alive and strong I felt.

Ever feel a little off?

2011-05-13T18:37:00.000-04:00

Well, I do sometimes. Today was one of those days. I ran some hill repeats this morning and felt good. This evening, I headed out for what was supposed to be the "easier" run of the day - a few miles or so on my usual trails. Usual trails for the most part, I should say. The nature center where I run has a good-sized network of trails, so there is a seemingly endless supply of "right or left?" choices. The route I covered today was mostly trails I am quite familiar with, but the first half mile or so was part of a trail I have never run before.

Apparently, my mind and body were not up to experimenting. I never could quite settle into a rhythm. My feet normally feel like they are becoming one with the ground, melting into every rut and bump. Today, though, they felt like heavy clogs slapping at the ground. I kept missing turns and having to stop to get my bearings, even on the trails I am used to. I zoned out and stopped paying attention to where my feet landed and twisted an ankle.

I came around a corner to arrive at a pond, and I was so befuddled with how I was feeling, I failed to notice a large male Canada goose angrily charging at me to protect his goslings floating nearby. I managed to jump out of the way at the last second to avoid his snapping and hissing beak. Whew, that was close.

It should have been easy and effortless, but I finished breathing hard and feeling all out of sorts. It was not a great run to say the least. Blah.

Fatigue

2011-05-10T22:42:00.000-04:00

I do not have any children, but I have heard from a few mothers that they always could tell when their children were about to hit a growth spurt, because their appetites would greatly increase and they would be tired and cranky all the time.

Sounds pretty much like me when I am less than three weeks away from a marathon! My mileage is still high and I am doing double workouts on a few days of the week, so it really is quite a grind, especially since I have been at it for a few months now. I just ran 20 miles on Sunday, and I am really working myself hard this week to get through the final push of training. I will run another 20-miler this coming Sunday, have my last hard workout next Tuesday, and then will begin the best part of this whole spectacle: taper!

Just one more week of fighting through fatigue. Just one more week ...

Normal or abnormal?

2011-05-05T11:28:00.002-04:00

A friend recently posted on his Facebook page a not-so-fun fact: 15 out of 100 people secretly chew their toenails. For the record, I do not chew toenails, my own or otherwise. It got me thinking, though, if these people are bringing their foot up to their face to chew away, that is some pretty good flexibility!

That mental image reminded me of the 2006 New York City Marathon. After I finished, I was waiting in the family reunion area for The Hubbs (actually just the BF back then) and my feet were in a lot of pain because they had swelled and were now very tight in my sneakers. However, my fingers were numb from the chilly temps and I was unable to untie the double-knotted shoelaces. So I brought my foot up to my face to untie the knots with my teeth - REALLY good flexibility considering I had just gone 26.2.

I have always wondered since, why did no one offer to help? Was it just too weird for people that I was chewing away on the shoelaces of sneakers that had run through everything at one point or another? It did not strike me as odd, but was I skeeving people out and that is why no one gave me a hand?

This leads me to wonder about some other things I do that seem completely OK while running but probably are, well, NOT. What do you think? Lame, disgusting or average:

I have ...
... untied my shoelaces with my teeth.
... used my lip balm to soothe chafed skin of my armpits and then used it again on my lips.
... wiped my nose/blown my nose hundreds of times with my bare fingers and then wiped the snot on my shirt, shorts and legs. Sometimes I just gave it a good fling.
... purposefully grabbed some mud and rubbed it on my face just to make sure every part of my body was dirty after a particularly wet and muddy trail run.
... peed in my shorts during a race. On my way to a then-PR for the 5K, by the way. It just sort of started trickling, and I saw no reason to stop it.
... mastered the wide-leg stance, grab-the-liner-of-my-running-shorts-and-hold-it-to-the-side style of peeing while standing straight up. So much easier than squatting.
... completely changed in my car more times than I can count. Not in secluded areas, either.

Getting down to business

2011-05-04T14:47:00.002-04:00

I have been a bit down about my running lately. I spent some time Sunday afternoon and evening thinking a bit about where I am and where I want to be. The Hubbs and I talked a bit about what I have been struggling with, and how it is interfering with becoming the runner I want to be. I eventually made it to the conclusion I usually find when I get stuck in a slump - basically stop whining and complaining and start doing something to make it happen. "It" can be anything you want. In my case, it is usually becoming an even better runner and to accomplish new and harder challenges. Lately I have been feeling a bit lost and unmotivated, so I am trying a new tool:

The Book of Guidance

My awesome web-cam photo features the hand-decorated cover of the simple wire-bound notebook that is helping me get through this tough spell. Top ultra runner Scott Jurek and Tarahumara runner Arnulfo Quimare (featured in the book "Born to Run") are making it happen down in the mountains of Mexico, and I can make it happen here in Central New York. So I say I want to be a better runner? I want to accomplish great things? OK, Scott and Arnulfo say, so get to it. MAKE IT HAPPEN.

Inside the front cover, I wrote: "Ask yourself: What kind of runner do you want to be?" It is a reminder that keeps me working hard, especially on the days I feel like saying FTW and blowing off my workout.

Laid out in the pages are daily plans for running or cross-training, strength training and stretching. It gives me direction for each day and guidance for the long haul. It is basically the combination of a training program personal trainers develop and a log that a lot of runners keep.

I make up my workouts in advance, and then after the fact make notes of any changes I made or how I felt. Today, only four days into its use, it saved me. I wanted to run 75 minutes today. I was looking at Google maps last night, trying to decide the route I would take. I did not really feel like running anywhere, and started to feel pretty blue. Then my catch phrases stared up from the notebook: "What kind of runner do you want to be?" "Make it happen."

OK, I said to myself, let's make this happen. You want to run 75 minutes but do not like your options. I guess that means you are running on the treadmill. Just get it done.

So for today's workout, I wrote in the notebook "75 minutes on the treadmill." And for 75 minutes this morning, I ran in the gym on a treadmill. Staring at a wall. Thinking about how on July 2, I am going to be a bad ass taking on a 50-mile trail race.

Today, I made it happen. Day by day, it is what we need to do.

Got Goat?

2011-05-01T21:01:00.000-04:00

Today's Mountain Goat Run was a bit of a disappointment, to say the least. I finished just over 80 minutes; in other words, just over 8 minutes per mile. Now I know some folks would love to run that kind of pace. This is not about others, though. This is about me, and what I am capable of. What I thought I was capable of, anyway.

I cannot ignore the fact that I have not been training for this distance, so it should not be any wonder that I did not run as fast as I have in the past when my training was geared toward 10 fast miles. I guess I was hoping for something better all the same.

I think I am really going to have to choose between being an ultra runner who conquers the challenge of pure endurance or being a runner who races for time. I clearly cannot have both, so I have to decide which is more important to me now. Since I just signed up for another summer ultra, this one a 50-mile trail run on July 2, I think I may already have my answer.

The trouble is that I have always been the runner going for fast times, and have grown very accustomed to valuing my runner's worth based on what the clock says. It is difficult to feel good about myself when that clock does not read what it used to.

I run a lonely road

2011-04-29T14:06:00.002-04:00

"I'm way too slow"
"You're way too fast"
"There's no way I can run as far as you"
"No way, you'll run laps around me"
"I'd die if I tried to run as far as you"

Excuses. I have heard them all. If you have ever replied with some variation of one of the above examples when I have asked if you will go running with me, I want you to know a few things ...

1. I would not have asked you to run with me if I was not ready and willing to deal with those potential situations. Contrary to belief, I do not race a marathon every time I go running. I can go shorter or slower than I would on my own if that is what works for you. I want company, remember?

2. I am not a mean person. I will not drag you along for 10 miles at a breakneck pace. If you want to run three easy miles, we can do that. I am good at pacing and am very sensitive to the pace of others. If we start out at your pace, I will sense it in seconds and match mine to yours.

3. It makes me feel sad and lonely. I love running, but it gets hard when I do so much of it alone. I know a lot of people who run for fun and/or exercise. Why is it that no one wants to do it with me? I do not have a whole lot of choices for routes to run on most days of the week. Most are pretty crappy. If I want to run on good trails, I have to drive to them and sometimes that is not possible to work into my day. Even then, it sucks being on my own all the time. Sometimes I skip out on a run because, frankly, I do not feel like going out AGAIN all by myself.

4. If I were to arrange a weekly running date with someone "slower" who "can't run as far," I would probably look forward to that run more than any other run of the week, simply because I finally have someone to share the miles with.

Just FYI ...

Under pressure

2011-04-24T14:01:00.000-04:00

Today, The Hubbs and I headed out for what was supposed to be a 20-mile run (we ended at only 13). Mentally, I was feeling very distracted. I have a major project due for a class tomorrow, and while I have been steadily doing work on it, I still have a good amount left. Whether or not I should even spend three hours running when I could be working on my project is certainly debatable. In my mind, facts from research articles about the motor behavior theories of learning and practice swirled chaotically with another area of concern: Where I am at in my running progression.

In my preparation for the Ottawa Marathon, I have not had a great feeling about how it will all turn out. I know I can finish the race, but my goals call for much more than that. To be honest, I have been feeling a lot of pressure (self-imposed) to not only repeat my Boston-qualifying performance, but also to do better. I ran my fastest marathon time in October 2008. Since then, I am stuck in the upper 3:30s. I am afraid I will never get any faster, and that my BQ was nothing more than a fluke.

Sometimes I think that part of the reason I am drawn to ultras is because I cannot cut it as a marathoner. I think about the pressure to improve and demands of regimented training. I think about how during a race, with mile splits recorded on my forearm, I am constantly calculating how much I am under or over pace. Not to mention how, when I am over pace, I worry and think about how to make up that time. When you look at it that way, it really is not any wonder I gravitate toward ultras. The time does not matter because it is a contest with yourself about enduring. The start of the race is relaxed, and everyone casually trots away from the start line. No one cares how long it takes you, because the fact that you finish is what people applaud.

I wonder, did running a relatively fast marathon time and qualifying for Boston ruin the marathon for me? Did it get me to a place where all I can think about it the need to get faster? So many people focus on qualifying for Boston, but not many people talk about what happens after you do it.
I wonder, am I not able to handle the pressure to perform when the clock is ticking? Is it fear of failing at the marathon that drives me over the ultra edge?

Enjoying Earth Day

2011-04-22T21:53:00.003-04:00

I just purchased a new pair of trail shoes and took them out for a debut run this afternoon. I had the woods and meadows all to myself, and it was a nice way to end a busy week. The trails are rather technical to navigate, at least at running speed, so most of the time my gaze was fixed on the ground to ensure every footfall landed safely. Occasionally, though, I had to look up to check for trail markers. In addition to keeping me from getting lost, it meant I did not miss cool random sights like this tree, bent at nearly 90 degrees about six feet off the ground.

The Saucony Progrid Guide TRs are a new style of shoes for me, and fortunately they felt good on my feet - there is definitely no returning them with the amount of mud they managed to attract!

Is there any better way to break in a new pair of trainers? I think not.

The dark side of dedication

2011-04-18T12:32:00.000-04:00

I had a plan for this morning. I was waking up about 5:45 a.m. to get to the gym early for a 30-minute ride on the bike followed by an intense strength and conditioning session designed to kick my butt. I do not get a chance for such a workout on Mondays, as I typically log my long run on Sundays and do not have the energy for anything very intense 24 hours later. This weekend, however, I did my 13-miler on Saturday morning with some friends, so Sunday turned into my rest day, which set the stage for an awesome Monday morning workout.

I had a plan for this morning, but last night The Hubbs tells me he is going to stay home from work. I do not have class until 10:20 a.m., so I could have enjoyed a rare chance to sleep in and relax with him in the morning. I told him what I was planning on doing for a workout, and he encouraged me to still do it.

I had a plan for this morning, but having to decide between that and precious extra time with The Hubbs left me torn. The alarm went off this morning at 5:45 and I did get right out of bed, but stalled for a while as I contemplated if I wanted to say screw the plan and snuggle back into bed with my peacefully sleeping husband. My goal departure time (6:10 a.m.) came and went and I still could not make up my mind.

I had a plan for this morning, and at 6:30 a.m., I decided to stick to it. My heart hurt as I drove to the gym. I got in my 30-minute bike ride, and I kicked my own butt with the strength training - so hard, in fact, that some of my muscles are still trembling. All this to be a better runner.

These are the choices I face sometimes as a competitive athlete. This morning I had to ask myself, "Do you want to be a better runner, or do you want to sleep in?" Well this morning, when The Hubbs was not going anywhere himself, I had to say I wanted both. Being dedicated to my running goals and the tough training that is necessary to get there, though, meant I had to choose the former as much as it hurt to do so.

I had a plan for this morning, and I have one for tomorrow morning, and the next morning after that. If I am going to get to where I want to be, I need to follow them. Even if it means sacrificing time with The Hubbs, even if it means sacrificing an Easter dinner with family because I have a 22-mile run to do that day. That is what it takes, for better or for worse.

When dogs attack

2011-04-14T15:44:00.001-04:00

OK, maybe the title should be more along the lines of "When dogs charge." I have never actually been attacked by a dog, but I have had plenty of charge at me, and this morning was no exception.

I have been a little stressed and overwhelmed by some recent minor events that came up in my life. I needed a good morning run to start off my day and try to clear some things up in my head. The morning was damp and crisp, but the birds were still singing as I headed out about 6:30 a.m.

I did not have time to run very long, but I was hoping for a bit of running-induced clarity. All was going well until I passed by a man bringing his bin of recycling to the curb. I heard a dog barking and turned to see a giant yellow lab charging full-tilt in my direction.

The owner now began to yell and scream at the dog, which of course did not deviate from its rapid gain in momentum. The second that dog's paws hit the road, I knew it was not stopping so I had to take matters in my own hands to deter it. I yelled the typical "NO!" and "STOP!" and fortunately the dog did stop and finally took notice of its owner, who was still yelling.

So what did the owner say to me? Sorry? Are you OK? Nothing, actually. Not a single word.

Which is exactly the response The Hubbs and I got on Sunday from the owner of a black dog that was allowed about 15 feet of slack leash to charge in our direction and left us jumping off the side of the road to get out of the way. To that owner I gave a verbal reminder that she could have pulled in the leash as we went by. She said not a word. All I got was a blank stare.

What is it with dog owners? Why are they so terrible about controlling their dogs, and so inconsiderate to the people who are on the receiving end of the dreaded canine charge? Do not tell me it is because they know their dog is so sweet and nothing to fear. I do not know that, and will never assume such. Please hold yourselves accountable already, and be respectful to others. The world is not your dog's free-for-all playground. Also, if Spot does decide to charge at this or another passer-by, an apology or some similar expression of consideration would be much appreciated.

By the way, I finished my run more frazzled than when I started. The Hubbs tried to get me to look out the back window to see a cheerful robin to brighten my mood, but when he raised up the mini-blind to look out, the whole thing broke free from its bracket to crash land on my head.

I should have stayed in bed.

100K: What it means to me

2011-04-12T22:11:00.002-04:00

Although my current training focus is on the marathon just less than seven weeks away, occasionally thoughts of the impending 100K trail race fill my mind. This afternoon, while on a solitary run on the trails at a local nature center, my thoughts drifted to the Green Lakes Endurance Run.

Most of the time, I try to think about it in a more matter of fact way. Yes, it is a very long way to run. I ran the 50K last year, and it was tough, but so am I. This 100K is going to be twice as far. Eight laps of the course instead of four. I am going to need to run more in training than ever before. Twice a day on at least half of the days of the week, including Sunday when I run my "long" run. A 20-miler in the morning and then, what, another 10 miles in the evening? Basically, I just need to get used to running. All the time. OK, I say, bring it.

Then there are the moments when the qualities are not so tangible and it hits the most tender nerve of my heart. There are only three words to describe how it makes me feel: IT SCARES ME.

The 100K I am planning on doing begins at 6 a.m. In the pale dawn light a group of ultra runners will gather, a race official will simply say "go," and we will go, trotting away in an unceremonious manner into the woods that surround the blue-green glacial lakes. Eastern wood peewees, pileated woodpeckers and other birds will serenade us as we climb up the steep hills through the forest to the open, unshaded grassy fields, nicknamed the Serengeti by locals.The forest-dwelling birds are replaced with goldfinches, cheerfully flying in undulating waves.

There is a campground in the park that the trail runs alongside, and by our second lap, some campers will be getting up and making breakfast. The smells of bacon and brewing coffee waft through the woods as we make our way from the fields back down to the lakes.

There is a sandy swimming area along Green Lake, and by the third lap, families will begin to arrive for a late-summer day at the beach. At the halfway point, the aroma of burgers and hot dogs fill the air as visitors make lunch. I will be eating, too. Not just Accel energy gels, but real food that I have trained my body to take while running: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, Annie's Cheddar Bunnies.

The afternoon will pass and so will the miles. Kids will be swimming and splashing in the lake to cool off as I pass by to finish laps five and six. The Hubbs (my crew) will be getting a new ice-filled bandanna around my neck to help me cool off, and I will continue to soldier on. With a lap to go, the beach area will be thinning out as the afternoon fades away and people head home. The volunteers staffing the main aid station at the finish area will still be hard at work.

Back up in the woods, new smells tempt our hunger as we are once again passing by the campground. This time they come from grilling chicken and steaks. After all, it is nearing 6 p.m.: dinner time!

Then the true enormity of it hits me: TWELVE HOURS after I started, a full day of events will have come and gone. And I will still be running.

Nature and the Big 2-0

2011-04-11T16:06:00.000-04:00

Yesterday morning The Hubbs and I conquered our first 20-miler of the year. The weather was finally beautiful - for running anyway. It was overcast, and the temperature was in the upper 40s when we headed out about 9:30 a.m. and steadily warmed to the low 50s by the time we finished. The only downside was a stiff breeze that hit us a few times, although we enjoyed it at our backs during the final five miles.

The first 13 miles or so covered a road loop with a steady mix of hills (both up and down) and flats. Then we moved into my domain - TRAILS! Near our home is a railroad-turned-recreation trail. It is flat and flanks a small lake at one point; a river tributary often dammed up by beavers follows alongside most of the rest of its course. It only measures four miles from end to end, but it is still a great resource and practically in our backyard.

Jeff and I are also amateur birders by hobby, and our feathered friends always provide some entertainment. American robins, Northern cardinals, black-capped chickadees, mourning doves, song sparrows and red-winged blackbirds are constant daily staples so while I do not mean to trivialize them, from now on it will go without saying that we probably saw them. Additionally we saw an Eastern bluebird, a red-tailed hawk and a couple downy woodpeckers (one bravely attempting to bore into multiple metal street signs).

The most special thing Mother Nature had to offer was not a bird, although many people often mistake them for birds - spring peepers!! They are small chorus frogs, and they make a very distinct "peep peep peep" peeping sound, hence the name. If you live near any wetland-like areas, especially if there are also woods nearby, you have probably heard them. While the robin generally gets the credit of being the first sign of spring, to me it is the spring peepers that signal that spring has actually officially arrived.

One of my favorite side-effects of running is the time I get to spend out in nature, enjoying all of the above features and more. What better way to experience what the world has to offer than running through it all?

I feel the need, the need for speed!

2011-04-08T16:02:00.002-04:00

I am currently taking a class about health-related physical fitness, and part of it entails that all class members take common tests used to measure levels of fitness, including a timed, one-mile run.

I have been running and competing for so long now that my brain is practically hard-wired to respond when a sentence includes a specific measured distance and the word "timed." It is just like the end of the movie "Zoolander," when Ben Stiller's character turns into a ninja-like killing machine when he hears a certain song.

The test took place late this morning, and from the time I woke up, my body was responding the same way it always does pre-race. I ate a race-morning type breakfast, and was thinking about pacing, what shoes to wear and so on. I just could not help myself. By the time I was jogging to the track where we were meeting, I could barely contain my excitement.

Now, I have never raced the mile. When I competed in track, I ranged from 55 to 800 meters and that was it. As a distance runner, the shortest race I do is a 5K. Needless to say there is a big gap between, so I was thrilled at the chance to give the mile a whirl. The fact that it was not really a true race made it even more fun.

Not really knowing how to run a mile (in terms of pacing or tactics), I planned on going out at a 7:00-minute/mile pace - something I knew I could do easily - and see how it felt over the first lap. I covered 400 meters in 1:30 exactly, and cruised the next 400 meters a little bit faster. I felt great, so at that point, I started picking it up even more. My legs were turning like efficient machine pistons - it was awesome. Once I got to the last lap, memories of racing the 400 meter came back and off I went. I finished in 6:26, and all I can say is DAMN that was fun!

What Ifs

2011-04-07T17:46:00.000-04:00

I love running and I love competing. Sometimes, the two are beautifully complementary. Other times, they are at odds with each other. I have to be honest and say that not every run I log is just for the heck of it, but rather a necessity of whatever current training plan I am following. I need to be sure to have fun with it as well, which at times is a delicate balance to keep.

Ultra-running king Scott Jurek has said, "Though I want to win, the running is a vehicle for self-discovery." Maybe it is daring to compare myself to a runner of such greatness, but I feel the same way. In the past I focused too much on the winning part. When I finally found the self-discovery part, I experienced true joy - possibly for the first time in my life.

Last summer I was on a long training run with The Hubbs. We were on the GLER 50K/100K course, almost two hours in, when we stopped briefly to refuel. We were in the middle of a field where the grass had grown to a few feet except where the trail crossed. I pulled out a plastic snack bag of Annie's brand Cheddar Bunnies, which have become one of my favorite mid-run snacks. I looked around as I chomped on a few. It was a warm sunny day, the tall grass was blowing in a slight breeze and goldfinches and other birds were singing and flitting about.

I spontaneously announced aloud "Cheddar Bunnies!!" while holding up a bunny for Jeff to see, which evoked no response. "Look, look! It's a bun!!" (My own abbreviated reference for all bunnies: living, cheddar or otherwise). "Ha ha, it's a bun! BUNS ON THE RUN!!" I was now yelling to no one in particular.

At that point I was laughing hysterically at myself because, although there was still no reaction from Jeff, I found the thought of cheddar buns on the run to be some of the funniest s**t I have ever come up with.

I began hopping about, apparently pretending to be one of those buns, until Jeff said he was ready to go and I happily went on running.

I am thinking of this now and feel a special attachment to that unfiltered expression of joy (and insanity) because I am a little scared about the mileage I will be building in preparation for my 100K attempt. I do not want to go back to that place where I was so burned out with the stress and pressure of training and competing that I completely forgot why I was doing it in the first place. What if I cannot handle the intensity? What if I cannot handle the mileage? What if I cannot handle 62 miles? What if ...

Spring!

2011-04-05T12:03:00.002-04:00

It may seem a bit odd to begin a blog post that is titled "Spring" by talking about winter, but it makes what I experienced this morning all the more meaningful.

My least favorite season has been hanging on more fiercely than usual here in upstate New York. Two weekends ago I was out for an 18-mile run, and although it was a bright sunny day and the temperature was in the upper 20s, due to an incessant and blustery wind it felt about five whole degrees. Brutal, that is all I have to say.

So when I walked out my door this morning to 40-degree rainy weather, it actually felt somewhat pleasant. A robin was perched in a tree and was chirping happily, and I quickly saw why. Earthworms - TONS of them - everywhere. Big and small, they covered the sidewalk and driveway. One huge beast stretched about 10 inches, and I could only imagine the smorgasbord the birds would be enjoying. I had to smile, and, obviously, document the sight.

I am an eternal optimist, and the sight of these worms made me feel quite joyful. Chilly and rainy it may be, but where there is rain, there are worms and birds and flowers, which ultimately means one thing: spring!!

I had a track interval workout planned for this morning, but the rain made it a bit too slick for speed work, so I instead enjoyed a free run of sorts, across a gravel parking lot, hopping over (and sometimes into) puddles, up a set of stadium steps, one lap around the track, along the edge of some woods and across some finally(!) bare grass fields.

Everything seemed fresh and alive, and I ran with a big grin on my face. I could smell the damp trees as I ran by the woods, and with every sloppy squish of a step on the grass the scent of mud filled the air. Mud! How I have missed it. Slush is no substitute for mud, and I felt incredibly satisfied when I finished and saw tons of it splattered up the back of my legs.

The temperature has since dropped, and now fat and fluffy snowflakes are once again falling. I am still smiling, though, as I know they are short-lived. After all, the worms have returned!

Training

2011-04-04T08:16:00.001-04:00

A run is a run is a run, right? Well, no.

The fact of the matter is there is this concept called the principle of specificity, a scientifically based idea that is important for those in the area heath and fitness or strength and conditioning, which includes your truly. It basically means that the type of training that is best to use depends on the type of performance goal to be achieved. If you want to race fast, you need to train fast. If you want race long, you need to train long. If you want to be fast over a long distance? You got it: fast and long.

The training for a 5K is not the same as training for a half-marathon, which is not the same as a marathon and so on. Because of this, I struggled a bit when I was thinking about my training over the next six months, because I have races of conflicting distances. I somehow had to decide on what to concentrate. The 10-mile Mountain Goat? The Ottawa Marathon? The GLER 100K?

Ottawa won my focus for the spring; marathons tend to trump most everything else. While marathon training will not help me run the Goat to my fastest potential, I will be able to get through it pretty well. If I were to focus on speed for the Goat, however, I would be pretty screwed when it came to 26.2 miles. Of course, once I get through Ottawa, there will be only one thing to worry about. More on the 100K later ...

Now, there are countless "recommended" plans for every runner on the planet. Some are better than others, but most probably have some benefit and some decrement. You learn over time what works. For me, there are two key workouts in preparation for a marathon: the tried-and-true long weekend run ranging from about 14 miles to 20+ and a mid-week longish tempo run that ranges from about seven to 10 miles and run no slower than 20 seconds off my goal marathon pace.

Still, I want to do some workouts to prepare for those other races, so a couple days a week I do a track interval workout in the morning to harness a little speed, and an easy run in the afternoon to get my body used to running more frequently so it will be ready when I really start ramping up the mileage after I get through Ottawa. The remaining days are filled with mid-distance runs or some cross-training on a bike.

There it is - my "secret." I say that in jest, because really there is no secret when it comes to training. You just need to put in the miles, and if there is some variability in how you do that, even better. That is how I do what I do - simply good old hard work.

Law of Perspectivity

2011-04-01T22:09:00.000-04:00

What you see depends on how you look at it. Which depends on a number of things, including your experience and outlook on life.

Seven or eight years ago, 20 miles seemed just .... so ..... FAR. Two 20-milers in a marathon training program seemed just so tough. Elite marathoners were way beyond just so damned fast.

OK, so that last one has not changed. Everything else, though, looks differently when perspective changes. Nowadays, a 20-mile training run is just another long run. Sometimes I do as many as six in a program for one marathon. I generally do several that go beyond 20. I do not walk around gloating about what I can do and what others cannot do. Sure, as my previous post reveals, I do get a bit of enjoyment out of impressing people with my mileage. Do not think for a moment, though, that I have forgotten how many people there are who 1) run much farther and 2) run much faster.

The thing with running is that there will always be someone faster. Likewise, there will always be someone slower. It just depends on how you look at it. Bad days are when you look ahead and focus on everyone who can kick your butt. Good days are when you look behind to see the butt-kicking you are handing out.

I think it is important to embrace both.

Ahh, the little things ...

2011-03-30T20:39:00.001-04:00

It never really gets old to see people's reaction when they learn about how far I go sometimes on a typical Sunday training run. There is a moment of normal processing, and then you see it - a mental backpedal of sorts when the double-digit number sinks in. That is followed by a look of confusion when they are thinking to themselves if they heard 20 correctly, which they seem to never be able to decide because the question always comes: "Wait, you ran how far?"

To which I get to answer as nonchalantly as possible.

Of course, then comes the phrase that is so overused it should be banned with the word "like": "I don't even drive 20 miles ..."

Here and Now

2011-03-24T16:35:00.000-04:00

I felt a huge sense of accomplishment when I finished my first ultra, the GLER 50K. I also felt this nagging twinge of wanting more. While I sat around relaxing and refueling after the race, I watched the 100K participants still continuing on in their journey and thought, I want to be one of them. Yes, I had just run 31 miles. No, it was not enough.

I put a lot of thought into deciding what step to take next in my quest to discover "how far." The natural course would be to attempt a 50-miler, and if that went well move up to the 100K. One small problem: There are not a lot of 50-milers to choose from within relatively close proximity to where I live. There is one about an hour's drive away, but this past fall it took place the weekend after the Niagara Falls marathon - feasible for more seasoned ultra runners, but not practical for me. Initially I planned on shooting for a 50-miler in 2011 and moving up to the 100K in 2012.

Then reality stepped on that long-term plan: I am not a patient person. As I was tentatively outlining a 2011 race schedule, GLER came up. There was no question of whether I would do it again, but rather which distance. I really wanted to be one of those 100Kers. I also knew I should try a 50-miler first. I looked for spring 50-mile races. Nothing was close enough. Nothing felt right. GLER kept calling to me. So what to do?

It was in January, when I was running around on snowshoes, that I decided to say the hell with the "safe" practical progression. If I want to take a stab at that damn 100K, why not? Two months later, on March 5, I was ready to make it official. I registered for the GLER 100K race.

As my 2011 race schedule shows, I have a good lineup so far. The Ottawa Marathon at the end of May, a half-marathon in early August and another in early October, and the Empire State Marathon in mid-October. More will inevitably be added, but the key races are laid out. In the middle of it all is that big, scary 100K.

Niagara Falls: The "Bad" Race

2011-03-06T00:02:00.001-05:00

Five weeks after I completed the Green Lakes Endurance Runs 50K, I ran the Niagara Falls International Marathon. It was my third race of at least 26 miles in 2010.

I actually had a tough and somewhat miserable experience. By mile 4 I felt completely uncomfortable and out of rhythm. By mile 13, sharp lower back pains that radiated down through my hamstrings had set in. At mile 15, those pains brought me down to a walk, the first time I ever had to do so in a marathon. I walked a bit, ran for a while until the pain brought me back to walk, hunched over trying to self-massage the tight muscles.

The water stops were set up every mile at the mile marker. From the point where I first had to walk, the race went like this: walk for a bit until the pain eased up, start running again, make it to the next water stop, back down to a walk, let the pain subside, start running again, make it to the next water stop, back down to a walk to let then pain subside, back up to a run and so on.

Up until that race, I was having my best running year ever. Boston. PR after PR. An ULTRA marathon. I went to Niagara Falls with high hopes of going sub-3:30. I met Kathrine Switzer at the expo. I was inspired and I felt everything falling into place.

By six miles in, I knew I was in trouble. I was a few minutes behind my goal pace just before the back pains set in, and once I got stuck in the just-trying-to-survive running/walking game, I knew there was no way to rebound. And just to make sure the race sucked as much as possible, just past mile 19 when I was back to walking, I was forced to the side of the road to empty the contents of my stomach.

That was about as much as I could take. Slow. Pain. Walking. Now puking? One by one, goals slipped away. I had wanted to break 3:30. No way. OK, how about a PR instead? Sorry, not today. OK, I will settle with finishing ahead of Jeff. Not a chance.

Tears of frustration filled my eyes. I hung my head, wishing I could be somewhere, ANYWHERE else.

A little voice finally spoke up in my head: Come on, Jade. If you can get through an ultra, you can get through this. You are not going to sit here and cry over this. So back I went to running to make it to the next water stop, and then the next. I passed through mile 24 to see a group of volunteers with some damn orange wedges. Despite everything, I had to shake my head and smile. While feasting on a couple, I decided I did not care how much it hurt, I was going to run the final two miles. I looked at my watch as I reached 25 miles. Three hours and 30 minutes. I was officially 1.2 miles behind my original goal pace.

At this point, there was only one last thing to shoot for. I had 10 minutes to get from that point to the finish line in order to once again qualify for Boston. I dug deep and churned out the remaining distance, somehow moving at a pace just over 8 minutes/mile. I crossed the line in 3:39:43, limping, exhausted and emotionally spent.

The whole experience had been such a brutal battle, that it took me a while to realize that what I initially considered one of my worst races might just be one of my best. On a day when I fell behind my pace early, struggled with back pain, had to walk repeatedly, threw up, and just suffered in general, I still managed to qualify for Boston AND place third in my age group.

In 2010, I really did it all, and with just my own two legs and a whole lot of guts and determination.

Breaking Rules, Breaking Barriers

2011-02-23T08:54:00.002-05:00

For some people, marathons are not enough. Fortunately, there is a phenomenon known as ultra marathons to satisfy those weirdos. An ultra is a running event longer than the traditional marathon distance of 26.2 miles. They start at 50K and continue up: 50 miles, 100K, 100 miles, etc. There are also timed ultras in which, over the duration of 24, 48 or 72 hours, you run as many miles as you can over a set course.

I have been familiar with the idea of ultras for a number of years now, but it was during the winter of 2009-2010, when I was training for Boston, that I began to entertain the idea of actually doing one. I am not really sure that there is one defining reason why. I think it is more that during the seven or eight years leading up to that winter, I managed to conquer every running challenge I put myself to. I always seemed to be able to run farther or faster than previous performances. I began to wonder just how far I could run.

I had been asked that question before, and my answer was always honest: I do not know. I KNEW I could run 26.2 miles. That was not my limit, though, and never having tried to run as far as I possibly could, I had no idea of what that limit would be. Naturally, I wanted to find out.

It occurred to me that I would be 31 that summer, and that a 50K equalled 31 miles. I had been through this before, being 26 years old and running my first marathon. Now, as I said before, sometimes the universe gives you little signs, and here was another encouraging me to take this direction. Also, there is a state park in the Syracuse area that is one of my favorite places. Every August for the past several years, the Green Lakes Endurance Runs were held there. There were two events: a 50K and a 100K. If I was going to turn possibility in to actuality, this was going to be the place to do it.

All of this thought process was taking place while I was training for Boston. The Hubbs gently suggested not to let my future ultra plans overshadow the adventure at hand, and it was a great point. Trust me, I was not taking Boston for granted at all. It was a great achievement, but I did not want it to be my last. That is why I could not help from looking beyond that race. I took his perspective to heart and compromised; I quietly registered for the 50K in March, but let that sit on the back burner until I got through Boston.

My experience at Boston is very special to me, and I look forward to going back someday. My ultra quest will never change that. However, it turns out I am one of those people who wants more than a marathon. I ran the 10-mile Mountain Goat 13 days after Boston, because I could not bear the thought of missing one of my favorite races. In hot, humid weather and still fatigued from the marathon, I finished only about a minute and a half off my PR time. Three weeks after the Goat, I won my age group in a big 5K race with a new PR, and then 25 minutes later started a 10K race in which I finished with another new PR. Later that summer, on a whim I entered a half-marathon six days before the race. It took place two weeks before my 50K, so I knew I was in shape to cover the distance. With no real half-marathon-specific training to speak of, I was the fifth female to finish, second in my age group, with yet again a new PR.

It seemed I could handle anything I tried, even though there were so many "rules" against what I was doing. I ran well to finish my first ultra, and immediately thought: That was great, I want some more. So that is where I am at now, setting out to discover "how far" this little runner can go.

Boston

2011-02-21T17:55:00.002-05:00

With the hype of new qualifying times and a new admissions process buzzing around, I thought it was a good time to talk about Boston. I qualified in 2008, but I deferred the 2009 race because Jeff - The Hubbs - was also trying to qualify for Boston. On the chance that he would in a 2009 race, I committed to the 2010 race. Unfortunately he did not qualify so I was on my own, so to speak, to run the legendary course.

Training for Boston was tough. My plan got under way in December, just as the worst of winter was setting in. I did some of my running on a treadmill, but needed to log a substantial amount of my miles on the road. All of my weekly long runs were outside in whatever the wind wanted to blow at me - literally. There were some days where the miles outnumbered the degrees (of temperature). I live in a hilly area, with one climb serving as the perfect practice for Heartbreak Hill: It was a little steeper and longer. All of my weekly long runs ended going up that hill, even the 22-miler.

It was raining when we arrived in Boston, and had been for days. The Hubbs always refers to this as "wringing out the sponge" so there is not rain on race day. There were signs and banners everywhere for the marathon, and it was an awesome feeling that I was among the lucky ones who got to do it. At the expo, I dropped $90 for the official jacket. Trust me, if you make it to Boston, get the jacket. You will regret it otherwise. We also met Bart Yasso from Runner's World and Dick and Rick Hoyt of Team Hoyt fame.

Race day started bright and crisp. I was rather cold while waiting at the Athlete's Village in Hopkinton, but once I got to the corral it was quite comfortable for marathon running. All the runners stood shoulder to shoulder waiting in the corrals, stretching far back from the starting line. My qualifying time was fast enough that I started in the first wave, but I was stuck near the back of the crowd. 10 a.m. came and went, and I could only assume the race had officially started.

I was stripped of my warm-up clothes and ready to go when we finally started moving. I walked several steps, came to a stop, began walking some more, came to another stop, then back to walking. Then my group picked it up to a jog, then back down to a walk, back to a jog, back to a walk. Then it was back up to a jog, and finally, the pace began to increase, slowly but steadily. We gained some steam and were cruising at about 8-minute/mile pace when finally, 11 or so minutes after the start apparently occurred, we crossed the starting line.

Holy shit, this is it, I thought. I was running in the Boston Marathon.

I was having a great day, moving easily and comfortably along averaging 8-minute miles. The crowds along the sides were amazing. Around mile six in Framingham, my friend Mariah stood cheering me on, wearing a homemade T-shirt with the words "TEAM JADE" blazing on the front. Later, as I made my way through the Newton hills at around mile 17, I thought I heard my name. I looked around, but saw no familiar face. Hm. There is was again, someone definitely yelling Jade. This time, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye - it was one of The Hubbs' close friends running alongside the course with his wife close behind. I steered over to say a quick hi to Christian and Cindy before continuing on.

The Hubbs himself was posted at the top of Heartbreak Hill. As I passed the mile 21 marker, I knew the infamous climb was imminent. The grade of the road increased, and I kept moving forward, waiting for for the hill to really push back the way hills have a tendency to do sometimes. Before I knew it, though, there was Jeff, bouncing up and down excitedly with a huge smile on his face. I said the only thing that came to mind: "That was nothing!" The training hill down the street from my home proved to be the ticket to conquering Heartbreak.

I was still cruising along at 8-minute/mile pace, targeting a new PR, when at mile 23 I made a rookie mistake. I took an energy gel from an aid station, a tangerine PowerGel. Now, I am a Gu girl, who has occasional affairs with AccelGel. PowerGel is too sweet for my taste, and generally leaves me feeling sick to my stomach. So WHY I chose to down this tangerine PowerGel while on pace for a PR in the most famous marathon in the world is still unknown to me.

It did not take long before I was paying for that mistake. I spent most of the final miles focusing on keeping the contents of my stomach IN my stomach, and unfortunately my pace suffered. I was progressing through the boisterous Boston College area, but it is a blur in my memory.

I was on Beacon Street when I started to feel a bit better and got back on pace, but by that point the PR had come and gone. As I turned onto famous Boylston Street, though, a missed PR was the last thing on my mind. I was in the final stretch of the Boston Marathon. I had earned my way into the race and, upon crossing the finish line with a fist pump and a huge smile, I had finally earned that treasured Boston Marathon medal. My time was not a PR, but I did requalify for this marathon of marathons. Really, what more can you ask for?

Six and Counting

2011-02-15T23:15:00.000-05:00

The accomplishment of finishing my first marathon was not without its painful consequences, and I mean that in the most literal sense. I had to limp my way to my car after the race. I could not walk down stairs facing forward for days, and it was nearly a week before I could walk normally. Once I could, I was ready to answer the question I had already been asked several times: Are you going to run another marathon? Easy: Hell yes.

The next fall I ran in the New York City Marathon. Crossing the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge at the beginning of the marathon was one of the coolest feelings ever. As the grade of the bridge rises, you see the sea of people ahead of you. If you glance back, you see an equal sea of people behind you. It is this amazing mass of people setting out on a wondrous and challenging journey, and you are right in the middle of it.

The downside of that is the congestion you have to fight the whole way through. Having finished right at the cusp of the four-hour mark in my marathon debut I thought I was poised to break that significant barrier. I ended up running eight minutes slower. It was somewhat devastating. I learned a very painful lesson that comes with marathons. Sometimes you can train hard and do everything right and then factors beyond your control screw up the plan. It hurts. A lot. I spent months training only to have my performance regress. The months following NYC were difficult, to say the least.

A year later, I ran the Philadelphia Marathon. This was a breakthrough race for me. I finished in 3:48, a new PR by 13 minutes. More importantly, it was only eight minutes off of the qualifying time for the Boston Marathon. All of a sudden, qualifying for the Mecca of marathons seemed very real.

With every marathon came a new training plan more aggressive than the last. Preparation for my fourth marathon, the Wineglass Marathon in Corning, N.Y., focused on one thing: qualifying. During the race, I pushed the pace the whole way, dropping further and further below my goal pace with every mile. At mile 22, I was on target for a 3:34 finish, a qualifying time with six minutes to spare. I did not let up, though; I was not going to take any chances. It was not until I reached the 25-mile mark, when I realized I could run the last mile in 15 minutes and still qualify, that I let it sink in. I was choked up most of the last mile. I crossed the finish line in 3:33 and received my finisher's medal. I stood there, tired and sore, tears welling in my eyes while I savored the moment I qualified for the Boston Marathon.

I ran Boston in 2010. There is so much that can be said about it that I will leave it for another entry. Later that year, I ran marathon number six: the Niagara Falls International Marathon - the only marathon to start in one country and end in another. It was the first time I ran multiple marathons in one year. It was an important breakthrough, one that really got me going in a new direction of new challenges.

Snowshoe, Part Two

2011-02-14T22:19:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning, I was back at the starting line of a 5K snowshoe race. It is amazing how even the smallest amount of experience can make such a huge difference. Having gotten out the virgin jitters the previous weekend, I felt much more prepared and confident for my second snowshoe race.

The temperature was a little warmer, which made for more comfortable racing. The snow conditions were a little better as well, although still somewhat "mashed potatoey." The important thing is that conditions were good enough that I was able to maintain a running pace for every step of the way. Needless to say, I turned in a far better time than the first race, finishing in 31:04. If I could get into a race where the snow was actually hard packed, I am confident I could drop another five minutes off the pace. Now that would be some racing!

I think this might be it for snowshoe races for me this season, as there are not many to begin with, and most require a decent amount of travel that is not exactly reasonable for the amount of time I would be running. So for the remainder of this winter, I will have to settle for only pulling out the snowshoes for a good training run. Not to worry, as the road racing season is just around the corner and has plenty to offer to satisfy my competitive spirit.

Going the Distance

2011-02-09T23:56:00.001-05:00

Training for that first marathon was literally a road to self-discovery. As I said before, the first week was a 10-mile run, a distance I had already covered. Week two, however, was 12 miles - farther than I had ever gone before. Week three was 14 miles - farther than I had ever gone before. Week four was 16 miles ... Notice a pattern here?

Every week I made the distance and chipped even further away at all the limitations I, like most people, had put on myself. Why do we do that? Why do we decide we cannot do something without trying? If you had asked me in high school if I could run 16 miles, I probably would have said no. When I finally got around to trying it, 16 miles is not all that difficult.

By the time I was up to 18 miles, I knew it was time to commit to a race. I had my choices narrowed down, and the day my training program took me 20 miles was the day I signed up for the Steamtown Marathon in Scranton, PA. I ran one more 20-miler before starting a three-week taper to the race.

I never doubted being able to finish; I knew I would make that happen. What was uncertain was how long it would take me. Sure, I ultimately wanted to simply finish, but I also had the hope I would finish in about four hours. I was going along well until I hit mile 17, and the course took runners on a wood chip-covered path through some woods. The problem was that the wood chips had been freshly put down in a very thick layer that was sodden from days of rain preceding the race. It was so spongy, I felt like I was running on, well, a thick layer of soggy wood chips.

I hit The Wall at mile 21, but fought through it. At mile 23, the course started moving through a hilly neighborhood, and that is where I really started to break down. I was on fumes, literally. My mental function was starting to go cloudy. Desperate for any kind of nutrition, I grabbed anything volunteers had to offer. I wound up with a handful of orange wedges. It would be the first time, but not the last, that orange wedges saved the day. It gave me enough of a boost to get through the remaining few miles.

With a half-mile to go, I crested a hill to see a huge blue banner with white letters spelling FINISH stretched above the road ahead. My throat began to close up as I choked up in tears. I had actually done it. In four hours, one minute and 46 seconds, I had become a marathoner.

Revelations

2011-02-06T09:29:00.002-05:00

There is a little more of the past to share before I can pick up with the present. Today, we are going back to my 26th birthday.

I woke up in a tent during a weekend camping trip to the Adirondack Mountains. That day, I was going to spend a good portion of my birthday climbing Mount Marcy, the highest peak in New York state. At just over 5,300 feet, I know it pales in comparison to the "real" mountains out west, but it is still a good climb.

I went via the Van Hoevenberg trail to the summit, a round-trip hike of about 15 miles. It took about four hours to summit and the same time to descend. At the end of the hike, I was pretty tired. My knees ached and feet hurt, but I did not mind the pain. The accomplishment was so rewarding that I had to smile through my exhaustion.

I had a number of epiphanies about my life that day, but for this blog I am going to stick with the ones that pertain to running.

Since finishing that first Mountain Goat race a few years earlier, I had entertained the idea of someday running a marathon, but had not committed further to the challenge. I did not even attempt a half-marathon, instead sticking with the Goat as my longest race. I was getting stronger, though, as a distance runner. I chopped my Mountain Goat PR from 93 minutes to 78. I was actually learning to race long distances, and it turned out I was pretty good.

In a way, I grew up while climbing Marcy. That evening, a few things stood out in my mind. Among them was that if I could hike 15 miles up and down a mountain, moving steadily for eight hours, I could run 26 miles. Another thought centered around the parallel of being 26 years old and a marathon being 26 miles. I believe the universe gives you signs now and then, and this was one of them. As I went to sleep that night, I decided I was going to run a marathon before my 27th birthday.

If you are skeptical of the whole signs thing, consider this: About a week later, while doing some random Internet browsing about marathons, I discovered that the local running store was hosting a marathon training program that would be starting in a couple weeks. It was meant to be.

The first day of the program featured a 10-mile run. Even though I was among strangers, I felt at home. I had this deep feeling of comfort that I finally found my place in this world as part of the local running community. That day was a major turning point in my life, just like that muddy run in the March rain five years earlier. Not only was I embarking on the major physical and mental journey of the marathon, but in the crowd of runners gathered that day was a man named Jeff, who four years and one month later would become my husband.

New Challenges

2011-02-05T19:41:00.003-05:00

I know I have been focusing primarily on the past thus far. When I sat down to write my first post I asked myself, "where do I begin?" The natural answer was the very beginning, so that is what I went with.

I want to take a break from the history to share today's adventure. This morning, I ran my first race on snowshoes. I knew a few people who ran and raced on snowshoes, and I am always looking for a new challenge. So this season I splurged on a pair of snowshoes and joined a training program, which culminated with today's 5K.

My coach and I coined a new phrase to describe it: exhawesome. It is so much harder than regular running; it leaves me exhausted in a way I am not used to. At the same time, I love it. It is an awesome experience and so rewarding. Hence, exhawesome. It is tough, but a helluva lot of fun.

The course conditions were actually pretty miserable. Most of the snow was deep powder that did not pack. My coach calls it "mashed potatoes." It was a slow slip and slog most of the way.

Nonetheless, once again I endured and finished in about 45 minutes - a big change from 21 on roads! That just tells you how much more difficult it is. The winner, a 15-minute road 5K speed demon, finished in about 29 minutes. I just signed up for another 5K, taking place next Sunday. I am hoping for better snow conditions, but will have a blast regardless.