Running for Pancakes

Western States - Part II: Training Camp & Getting to Squaw

Training Camp

A month before the race Desiree and I were lucky enough to head down for training camp over Memorial Day Weekend. This was an incredible opportunity to preview the final 70 miles of the course over 3 days. In addition to having the chance to run on the trail this would also be a solid weekend of training as we covered 75 miles over 3 days with appx 11,000 ft of climbing, and 13,000 ft of descending.

Our first day we drove to the town of Forest Hill, checked in, and boarded a bus that would take us to Robinson Flat - mile 29.7 on the course. This was a low snow year so even in late May there was no snow to contend with. When we were dropped off at Robinson Flat there was some confusion over where to go, but we followed the crowd and quickly found ourselves on single track - headed uphill. We felt the elevation immediately, and slowed down letting the faster folks pass. It took a few miles for the field to shake out, but once it did we enjoyed a lovely day of running on these historic trails. Finally getting to see the places that were previously just crazy looking blips on an elevation chart - Devil's Thumb, Michigan Bluff, Last Chance. The trail down to Swinging Bridge was just as hard as I had thought it would be, yet we were strong on all the climbs - power hiking past numerous folks. This day ended back at our car in Forest Hill - mile 62.

Day 2 started in Forest Hill and involved running the infamous "Cal Street" section of trail, covering mile 62 to the Rucky Chucky river crossing. Of all the sections of trail this is my least favorite, and proved to be on race day as well. It seemed like a lot of steep descending, some pretty rolling terrain, and then sandy stretches by the river that were hot and just seemed to go on forever. Since we didn't ford the river during training camp we decided to walk down and take a look at it before beginning the 3 mile hike up to where the bus would be picking us up. We walked down the ginormous steps that lead down to the river and all I could think of was how difficult those would be when my legs were tired on race day. The river was flowing pretty good and it was hard to imagine how we would manage the crossing. When you watch the movie Unbreakable you see the front runners being boated across the river. It's mid to late afternoon, the sun is beating down, and taking a dip in the water seems like the most delightful thing in the world. The reality is that the 30-hour runner hits the river crossing somewhere between 3 and 4 am. It's pitch black and submerging in a river doesn't have quite the delightful ring to it at that stage of the game.

Day 3 was my most favorite running of the training camp. You could really see how they say if you still have legs after the river crossing you can make up a lot of time. It felt a lot like running at home - soft trails, little rollers, some easy stream crossings. I think we ran for a solid 5 or 6 miles at one point - the longest stretch of running we had done on the course. The terrain was pretty, we got to experience crossing No Hands Bridge, had a little snafu post Robie Point (one that would not be repeated on race day), and accomplished making it back to Auburn.

Desiree and I at training camp - Day 3.

I would recommend training camp to anyone thinking about running Western States, or just anyone who wants to experience some of the trail. The organization is top notch - for $30 a day you get a fully supported run, transportation, post-run food. You couldn't ask for a better way to see the course. In addition to getting the preview of the trails we got to meet some great people. Folks who took time to share their knowledge of the history of the area, talk about their experience on the trails, or just talk about running and their previous experience in 100s.

Getting To Squaw

I love road trips once they are underway but I hate the packing part. After a whirlwind couple of days of assembling everything we would need for the trip we hit the road on Wednesday evening. Five and a half hours brought us to our stopping point for the night - a Super 8 in Yreka. Can't say I would vouch for this establishment, but it was relatively clean and since all of the campgrounds seemed to be booked in the Ashland area, it seemed like our only option.

The next day we continued south and made it to Squaw Valley (Olympic Valley) just in time for the medical briefing. While the subject matter was interesting I wasn't feeling well, so Adam and I wandered out early to find some cold drinks and shade before the crew training at 2:30. The crew training was very well done and I think it was very valuable for folks that were doing this for the first time. A few important tidbits we picked up - they warned the crew to expect their runner to potentially look pretty rough coming in to both Robinson Flat and Michigan Bluff due to the heat we would be facing and because both aid stations were at the end of long climbs. This would prove to be useful information.

Squaw Valley.

My sister and brother-in-law were due to arrive late in the evening on Thursday but unfortunately some crazy weather patterns created a major travel snafu for them and they didn't roll in until 7 am on Friday morning - just as the rest of us were getting up.

Finally, everyone had made it and we would have time to go over all the logistics in one group. Folks scattered for the day, some to hike, others to run, while Adam and I headed back to the start area to drop off my drop bags and complete the runner check-in. To say I was nervous would be a pretty major understatement. It was hard to comprehend that I was here. We were ushered into the check-in area and first up was getting a card with my name on it and double-checking that everything was accurate. Then came the blood pressure statement. I think the volunteer could tell how nervous as I was as he asked me to take a few deep breaths before we got started. BP was good at 98/82 and moved over to weight. As someone who will often beg my doctor not to take my weight it was an interesting experience getting weighed in public and having the number written on my armband for all to see. With the medical done I picked up all of my schwag (Mountain Hardwear duffel, sweatshirt, Moeben skirt (if only I could actually wear these skirts), mug, visor, and t-shirt).

The final to-do for the day was the mandatory briefing. While the air temperature wasn't that hot, sitting in the sun felt sweltering. As we made our way over to the briefing area we could see that everyone had the same idea, crowding in to any patch of shade that was available. We snagged decent seats and enjoyed seeing some of the pioneers of this sport and trail recognized for their efforts and dedication, and then watching as many of the contenders for the win were brought up to the front. Oregon was well-represented with Yassine Diboun, Timmy Olson, Hal Koerner, and Joe Uhan for the men and Pam Smith, Amy Sproston, Meghan Arbogast, and Denise Bourassa for the women. I couldn't wait to see what these folks would do with the course this year.

My sister and I at the briefing.

There were a few warnings about the heat for the race. The predicted high in Auburn was somewhere in the low 100s, and the predicted low for the night around the river crossing (mile 78) was around 82. The canyons would be hotter than Auburn. In other words, the coolest temps we would experience along the course would be the next morning as we started from Squaw Valley at 5am.

When the briefing was over we made our way back to our house, passing by numerous veterans of the race who were calling for carnage the next day. If you look at the stats the finish rate in hot years tends to be somewhere in the low to mid 50s. The predicted heat was making me nervous but I tried to tune it out. Nothing I could do about the weather except for alter my expectations and adapt as needed.

The crew got together and we discussed the final logistics for the race. Adam, Desiree, and Janet would be managing my needs while Amy and Scott would be working hard to take pictures and video to log the experience for me.

Ironing out the details.

Feeling very fortunate to have such an incredible crew of people aiding me in this attempt, I headed to bed early to try to nab a few hours of restless sleep before an early wake-up at 2:30am.

Western States - Part I: Training

I headed out to the Columbia River Gorge on a cold, dark, wet morning in March of 2011. I was driving to the finish line of what would be my second 50k. This was the inaugural year of the Gorge Waterfalls 50k and it was a point to point course. You drove to the finish line and were bussed to the start. As I walked to the check-in point to grab my bib, I heard little snippets of conversation all around me:

"How's the training been going? You ready?"
"Well, I've been working on a lot of downhill, but I'm not sure my quads will be ready or not."
"Only 3 months to go, right?"
"I'm hoping there won't be any snow on the course this year."

Uh, oh. It quickly dawned on me that these folks were talking about Western States. People who are running this race are actually going to be running Western States this year. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks ... I don't belong here.

And you could definitely argue that I didn't. I had run my first 50k 3 weeks prior and it had gone relatively well. I thought without the crazy amounts of mud that I had to contend with at the Hagg Lake 50k that I could improve upon my time. What I didn't do was take into account the technical nature of the gorge trails. Not only did I not improve on my 50k time, but I added an hour and 7 minutes to my time. Not exactly the performance I had hoped for.

Yet somewhere during that race, even though it was cold, wet, and miserable for much of it, I seemed to discover my love of ultra running. But Western States was just a pipe dream. I had read about the race, seen a course profile (which looked utterly ridiculous), but knew that it was way out of my league. At the end of 2011 the movie Unbreakable came to Portland - chronicling the top contenders in the 2010 race. I was captivated and mesmerized - it seemed impossible. Running 100 miles. With 18,000 ft of elevation gain and 24,000 ft of elevation loss. And yet the frontrunners somehow seemed to make it look easy, clicking of 7 minute miles even when they were 90+ miles into the race.

2012 proved to be a rough year health & racing wise but I was still luck enough to grab a qualifying time at the Mt. Hood 50. The entry into Western States is either through the lottery, or by winning a Montrail Ultra Cup race. Since option 2 wasn't going to happen I would need to enter the lottery to gain entry. The lottery used to have a three strikes and you're in rule, but due to a rapidly increasing pool of applicants they had to do away with that. The lottery operates so that every year that you don't get picked, as long as you qualify again the next year, when you enter you'll get an additional ticket. So if you don't get picked in 2012, qualify again in 2013, and enter the lottery again, you'll have 2 shots instead of one. And so on and so on. The conventional wisdom seemed to be to start entering the lottery sooner rather than later to increase your chances.

I threw my hat in the ring and on lottery day was attempting to run a 50k at Deception Pass while just a tad under the weather. The attempt was short lived (rightly so) and I found myself back at the car early in the day. I turned on my phone and watched as it started beeping crazily. Either something very bad or something very good had happened in the few hours that I had been away. It didn't take long to get the good news that my name had come up in the lottery. With my one ticket I only had a 6.9% chance of getting in and yet my name was one of the first few called. It seemed as though it was meant to be.

My thoughts immediately turned to training. I had 6 short months to get ready to run my first 100 miler, and the first month would barely count as I needed steroids, antibiotics, and lots of rest to get my lungs fully recovered from bronchitis. Three weeks went by without being able to run a single step.

Once my lungs recovered, the next few months went pretty well. From mid-January through February I focused on solid base building, with some good long-ish runs and back-to-backs. In March I started to incorporate some hill training into my longer runs, and do some short days of hill repeats. Early April brought the first race of the year - the Peterson Ridge Rumble 40 miler. I was saving my gorge hill training for late April and early May, after the race.

Unfortunately my plan went haywire when I injured my Achilles with three miles left to go at Peterson. My leg stopped allowing me to run and I had to walk the final 3.5 miles, including a loop of the track - I wasn't able to run a step. When I got home I broke down in tears. It was painful to put pressure on my foot and walking was even getting hard. While I hadn't had a limp at the end of the race, after the three hour drive home I developed one. I continued to limp for three or four days.

I went into damage control calling on every professional I knew to try to get me healed as quickly as possible. My neighbor is a good friend and PT and she offered to run a microcurrent treatment on the Achilles to see if it might help. I figured it wouldn't hurt and she gave me four different treatments with the microcurrent. I went to my regular PT and told him he had 2 weeks to get me well enough to run. He cautioned me that my timeline might not be realistic but dug in with ASTYM treatments along with numerous different exercises.

During this two week period I turned to the spin bike in effort to keep my conditioning up. I did classes and after class would continue working on my own, working through climbs and intervals. Spinning is great cross training but it just bores me after awhile. I was itching to get back on the trails.

I logged my first run back on April 28. It was 1/2 a mile. It was 2 months until race day, and only 5 weeks until I should begin tapering. But I was at least back to running. The next two months were relatively uneventful training wise. I was lucky enough to discover what would become my 100 mile shoe - the New Balance Leadville. Relatively light, a more substantial heel to toe drop (8mm) to help my Achilles, and more cushioned in the front for more protection in longer distances. I loved the shoe and right of the box took it on what would be my longest run before the race - 43 miles.

Health Issues

It's been a tough year so far. It kicked off with recovery from my toe surgery in December 2011. I was cleared to run up to 2 miles at a time in the second week of January. I started off with double days - running 2 in the morning and 2 in the evening. The doctor quickly cleared me to run up to 5 and by the last week of January I was allowed to run as much as I wanted to. I quickly overdid it - going out for a 25 mile, very hill, trail run - and developed Plantar Fasciitis. The PF has proved to be a lingering issue as 6 months later it is still hanging on.

Not having any time to stop and deal with the PF as I had to ramp up my training to handle Boston on April 16 and Yakima Skline Rim on April 21 I tried to push through as best I could and just pretend it wasn't going to be a problem. In addition to the PF I just didn't seem to have much energy. My runs were not great - slow and laboring. I would have an occasional good run to buoy my confidence for Boston but it would almost inevitably be followed with a bad on that would shatter what little confidence I had.

As I headed to Boston, reading the forecasts of the predicted high temps, I had a feeling the race was going to be more about survival than racing. And that proved to be true. Race day dawned warm - it was already 79 degrees when we hit the Athlete's Village at 9 AM. I was able to maintain an OK pace for the race, but was pretty wasted towards the end - a combo of the heat and lack of training did not make for an easy day. Five days after Boston I "ran" the Yakima Skyline Rim 50k. There was very little running on this course as my legs just had nothing to offer. There was 9700 ft of climbing and descending over the 31 mile course - sections that weren't straight up or straight down were so rocky that I couldn't run them. I was 5 places from DFL, crossing the finish line in 9:32 (only 22 minutes less than my 50-miler last year).

After Yakima my legs were just done. I took a week off thinking I would come back feeling refreshed, but I didn't. I had trouble just getting out of bed in the morning. I did short runs and hoped my body would come back. The one bright spot was running the Sun Mountain 50k on May 20. I went into the race as rested as possible and actually had a bit of rare energy.

Then it all went downhill. Back at work I had trouble climbing a single flight of stairs - needing to rest when I would get to the top. My legs felt weak in a way they never had before. I made attempts to run trails and hills and I just couldn't do it. I could barely drag myself out of bed in the mornings. I went home from work one day b/c I couldn't keep my eyes open at my desk and wound up sleeping for 5 hours straight.

Made a trip to the doctor and she couldn't come up with anything other than my iron was a little low (which we already knew). She sent me to a sports doc who did a complete treadmill test (drawing blood before and after, hooking me up to an EKG, pulse ox, and breathing tube during the test). The results of that experience were that he felt my iron and B12 levels were just too low to do what I was trying to do. While I was still within the low range of normal he felt that I needed my levels pumped up in order to get back to my previous level of fitness.

On July 4 I went out for a 20 mile run. I only made it 13 and had to quit. I never have to quit runs - I can always tough it out, even when I'm feeling low. Yet it was just an exercise in futility that day - I could tell I was just beating my body up. I had no energy to keep moving myself forward.

On July 5 I started a course of 5 iron infusions and B12 shots (once a month for the B12 for 3 months). The infusions required a trip to the infusion clinic. A little room up at OHSU with 6 reclining chairs. One nurse was there for the duration of my infusions. I would show up and she would call the pharmacy to "mix" the Venefer. She would get me all prepped - starting the IV line, testing the line, pushing some saline back through the line, and then wrapping the arm in a stretchy bandage so the tube didn't shift around. A couple of the infusions were really painful, while others were just a bit uncomfortable. I had the last infusion on July 20.

Bit by bit I have started to regain some energy. I am able to get out of bed in the morning without hitting snooze 9 times. My legs seem like they are coming back. Now my limiting factor seems to be the fitness I have lost over the last few months when I wasn't able to really train. Fingers crossed that my energy keeps coming back.

One Last Look Back

These were the goals I set for myself at the start of 2011 and how I fared:

Run 1600 miles - Total 2011 miles 2347
Complete my first ultra race - Completed 3 50k's & 2 50 Miler's
Get my marathon time down to 3:30 - Close but not quite, Vancouver - 3:35:25
Run a 21 minute 5K - Didn't race a 5K this year. Even if I had, I think this one was out of reach.
Run 1:15 15K - Close, but not quite. The only 15k I did was the Shamrock Run which was the day after the Gorge 50k. My time was 1:17:01 (PR of 2:24)
Run 1:42 half-marathon - Done, Race for the Roses, 1:41:04 (PR by 5:54)

Making it Count

I am a goal-oriented person. I need something on the horizon to keep me moving and motivated. Whether it is a race, a new distance, a new trail run - something to keep me excited so I get myself out the door. I've spent a lot of time thinking about what my goals are for 2012. Should they be distance? PR's? Coming back from foot surgery, I'm not sure if there are going to be PR's in the cards - especially not for the early part of the year. I want to take a bit of pressure off for a bit and not worry so much about time. It's so easy to feel the pressure of performing well. Comparing yourself to what you did the previous year, comparing yourself to what others are doing - you can get lost in all the comparing and forget why you are out there.

This year, I've decided that my goal is to make each workout to count. So each one will have a purpose. For running and cardio those purposes are: speed, tempo, distance, time and...FUN! As I look at training plans and schedules it is starting to stress me out. This run needs to be done at this speed, and I need to be on my feet for so many hours on this day, blah, blah, blah. I can do all of that, as long as I get to keep my fun runs. Some folks and training plans might call these junk miles. Those runs where you go out without any purposes, you don't work on your speed, maybe you zone out and just let your mind wander. You simply head out because your body wants to run. I love running trails and long distances. I want to head out to Forest Park or the Gorge and run until my body decides that it can't go anymore. These runs may not get me a PR in Boston, or a half-marathon PR at Race for the Roses, but what they will do is feed my soul and keep me sane. Training plans be damned.

Recap of 2011

The end of 2011 was a bit of a disappointment. I wanted to run 80 miles over Thanksgiving weekend and finish the year strong. Severely strained hamstrings just before Thanskgiving and foot surgery the week after put a crimp in those plans. Regardless, the year was a good one running wise. I ran almost 1000 more miles than 2010, ran my first 50k and 50 miler, dropped my marathon time by 8 minutes, and requalified for Boston. Overall, I can’t complain.

Stats:

Hagg Lake 50k (road) - February 19: 5:50:53

Gorge 50k (road) - March 12: 7:01:35

Race for the Roses Half marathon - April 3: 1:41:04

Avenue of the Giants Marathon (road) - May 1: 3:43:45

Ridgeline Ramble (trail) - May 28: 4:26:24

Beacon Rock 50k (road) - June: 7:00:12

Vancouver Marathon (road) - June 19: 3:35:25

Fueled by Fine Wine Half Marathon (road/gravel) - July 10: 1:57:35

Mt. Hood 50 Mile (trail) - July 39: 9:54:25

Cascade Lakes Relay (road/trail/gravel) - August 2 & 3: 5 legs - 36 miles

Autumn Leave 50 Mile (road/trail) - October 29: 8:24:35

Red Baron Half Marathon - November 6: 1:46:27

Total miles run: 2345.69

Total number of runs: 254

Time: 376:28:01 hh:mm:ss

Avg Speed: 6.2 mph

Avg HR: 145

My first 50 - Part I

I don't know when the idea first took root in my head that I might be able to run 50 miles. I like to blame the facebook Chicks running group that I was added to earlier this year. Through that group I have met, both virtually and physically, so many amazing and inspiring runners that it helped to convince me that I could go farther than I ever thought possible.

After Hagg Lake in February I immediately signed up for the Gorge 50k. I wanted to improve my time (still a laughable goal after I realized the difficulty level of the Gorge course) and try a point to point course. After the Gorge I think was when I heard rumblings amidst the running group that people were signing up for a 50-miler. I checked out the website. The run was called the Mt. Hood 50 and it was held up by Mt. Hood - starting from the Clackamas Ranger station. It was a double out-and-back course which appealed to me. You ran back by the start/finish at the 28.4 mile mark so if you just weren't having a good day you could stop there. I hemmed and hawed for a month or more before I saw the registration starting to fill up. I took the plunge and registered.

Then the training began. How does one train for a 50-miler? I had no idea so I just made it up as I went along. I tackled a hard 50k (Beacon Rock) in June thinking that would help prep my legs for the difficulty of running 50-miles on trail. I ran hard in the Vancouver Marathon in June to work on speed. Then in late June/early July I did 30-miles on trail, 35 miles on road/trail, and 40 miles on trail. I followed up the 40-mile trail training with a hilly half-marathon in wine country - wanting to stress my legs two days in a row in preparation. I was pleasantly surprised that my legs seemed to handle the miles pretty well. I was sore, but not overly so post-long runs.

However, as the race got closer, I continue having second thoughts. Was I really capable of going that far? Would my legs hold up? Would I get hit with severe cramps? Could I make the time limit? It was the time limit that really stressed me out. I had several communications with the race director trying to get some advice on whether or not I should take the early start. The early starters would set out at 5:30, giving them 13 hours instead of 12 to complete the course. He took into consideration the races I had done and convinced me to take the regular start. He felt confident I would be able to make the cutoff without any trouble. I still wasn't convinced so I talked to a few other friends, but they also assured me that the regular start should be fine. So with great trepidation I did not sign up for the early start.

My friend Lynn was volunteering at the race and she offered to give me a ride. She picked me up at 4 AM and we made our way up the mountain. It was pretty light by 5 AM and we got a great view of Mt. Hood as we drove by on highway 26. As we passed the Frog Lake parking lot we could see Lynn's aid station table had already been delivered. Once off the highway the driving was a little slow, but we still arrived at 5:45 just as planned.

It was a very chilly morning and volunteers were wearing puffy jackets and long pants. I had prepped my drop bags the night before and clearly marked them so I just need to find the right place to drop them off. I headed to the registration table to check in while Lynn met with the race director to discuss her volunteering duties. I then found the 3 tarps that were set out for drop bags. The first drop bag would be at the first turnaround point at mile 14.2 (the aid station that Lynn was manning). In this bag I had 2 8oz bottles of gatorade, and one 8 oz bottle of chia seed coconut water, along with some snacks and a stick of bodyglide. The next drop bag wouldn't move, it would stay at the start/finish line. We would come back through this spot at the 28.4 mile mark. This drop bag contained real food - crackers & bars - along with more 8 oz bottles of gatorade and drinking vinegar. In addition I had a change of shoes and socks, icy hot, ben gay patches, bodyglide, more S-caps and Endurloyte pills, and an extra skirt in case I was super sweaty.. The last drop bag was pretty simple with more 8 oz bottles, shot blocks, gu, and a pair of Crocs in case my feet were done with shoes.

It was almost 6:15 by the time I was feeling settled. I stripped my wind pants and fleece and gave them to Lynn to take back to the car. I was wearing my white Sparkle Hearts skirt, a blue tank top, white arm warmers and compression socks, a navy blue long sleeve shirt, my amphipod belt with 3 full 8 oz bottles, shot blocks, and gu, and my New Balance 101 trail shoes. I looked around at the other runners and felt intimidated. The usual sinking feeling of "you don't belong here" crept up on me as I looked at their lean and sinewy thighs and calves. "What am I doing here?" "I should have taken the early start," and "you are going to get left in the dust" where the thoughts that were raging through my head. Thankfully I didn't have too long to think before Todd, the race director, got us together and readied us for the start.

The course would be marked with small green flags and some green tape at confusing intersections. He informed us that the trail should be very easy to follow and that it would be hard to go off course. Then there was a quick countdown and we were off!

Since I knew my GPS watch wouldn't have enough battery life to get me through this race I decided to use it as a glorified stop watch instead. I disabled the GPS and planned to hit the lap button at each aid station. That should give me a good idea of pace. I then figured it would make sense to run by heart rate since I wouldn't have instant feedback on pace. The goal was to do the flats with a heart rate between 140 - 150. I would give myself a little leeway on the uphills to go up to 155, and I wouldn't worry about my downhill pace unless it dropped below 125 (then I would try to pick up the pace a bit). I was going to try to take in 200 calories per hour, along with 1 S-cap (essentially a salt tablet) and 1 Endurolyte cap (mostly magnesium and potassium). Along the first out and back the aid stations would be at mile 6, 9.1, 14.2, 19.3, 22.4, and 28.4. My goal was to make my bottles last between drop bags and to supplement with water at the aid stations.

The first 6 miles seemed quick. It took a couple of miles for the group of runners to think out so we weren't running in pack. After the first two miles I found myself alone for the majority of the day. I was not in the back of the pack as I had feared, instead I was probably somewhere in the middle. It didn't take long for me to warm up enough to shed my long sleeve shirt. My goal was to make it to the first aid station between 66 and 72 minutes. The main goal for the day was to finish, but the secondary goal was to finish in 11 hours, which mean running 13 - 14 minute miles. While I know you can't bank time for later in the run, I felt that if I was running comfortably, I might as well move through the early miles faster.

I cruised along with a heart rate between 140 and 145 - a very comfortable pace for me. I could have chatted with someone if anyone had been around. Instead I enjoyed the silence and the beauty of the terrain. I felt incredibly happy and peaceful. At that moment there was no place I would have rather been. I was determined to not only survive this race but to enjoy as much of it as possible. There were a decent amount of rocks and roots, but overall the terrain was very runnable. Before I knew it we were at the first aid station. I passed it up b/c I had already eaten several shot blocks and had 4 oz of fluid off my belt. I was surprised to see my split time of 57:12 - that meant I was on a sub 10 pace. I hadn't intended to be moving that quickly, but since I was feeling good and running by heart rate I decided not to worry about it too much. I also factored in the adrenaline rush from the first few miles and figured I would slow down a bit when that wore off.

It was just a short 3.1 to the next aid station - 36:47 - a much better pace. There was some rolling terrain through here and a bit of climbing as we worked our way to Highway 50. It didn't seem any time at all till we arrived at the next aid station. There were wonderful volunteers offering to fill bottles and fetch you anything you might need. I took advantage of the porta-pottie, drank a couple of cups of water, and headed back out.

This next stretch was incredible. A decent amount of climbing but not overly steep - just a gradual incline. There were a few inclines that I walked to save my legs, but the majority was still runnable. Around the 11 mile mark we got several amazing views of Mt. Hood - so strikingly beautiful that I watched the woman in front of me trip b/c she was looking at the view and go down hard on her arm and face. But she picked herself up and dusted herself off and seemed good as new. Along this stretch was where we were being passed by the early starters and the front runners. I saw my friend Sarah D. around mile 11.5 ish. She was looking super strong and had a big smile on her face. I saw another friend Jodi around mile 12.5. She was also looking strong and happy with a big grin on her face. It was fun to see the front runners - they were cruising! Moving faster than I could ever hope to on rough terrain.

And then we were done with the leg - 53:07 (5 miles) - I saw the aid station, the drop bags, and lots of people. I reloaded my belt with three full bottles, grabbed another pack of cliff shot blocks, drank several cups of water, and downed a packet of Gu. I got to say a quick hi to Lynn and then I turned around and headed back.

For a couple of miles along this stretch I talked with a 52-year old woman who had run a 3:30 marathon in Eugene last year. It's so great to realize that running is for all ages, shapes, and sizes - I am always reminded of that at events like this. We may not all be the same speed but we can all be out there. I find it inspiring and I hope I am still running in my 50s, 60s and 70s. We chatted a bit about speed work and she told me she had just run a 6:40 mile a couple of weeks prior, and she had a friend who was a couple of years older who could do 6 minutes miles. Impressive stuff.

I passed her and then spent some time on my own before a guy who was from Napa caught up to me. He kept me entertained for a couple of miles chatting about Napa, his girlfriend, and the fact that his friend who had talked him into signing up for this race had bailed on him. He eventually passed me up. I was disappointed to hear later that he had taken a fall and didn't end up completing the course.

More to come soon. Off to CLR!

My first 50 - Part II

It seemed like a pretty quick trip back to the Start after the turnaround. People in the campground we ran past on the way out were waking up and were curiously watching us as all these runners with numbers went running past their campsites. The coffee in the air smelled delicious and I was wishing I had been able to start my day with a cup.

I knew that when I hit the start/finish area that I wanted to get in and out without spending much time. I started running through what I needed to do about a mile out. I was surprised to hit the start/finish just under 5 hours. I had planned to be back at this point between 5:30 - 5:40 so this was a positive sign. Instead I made it in 4:59:31. My friend Rose came up and asked if I needed anything. I didn't know she would be here (she was going to pace a friend on the second half) so it was a nice surprise. I stopped and grabbed my bag, changed out my three empty bottles for three full ones, grabbed a new pack of shot blocks and set back out.

The next "half" of the race was only 21.8 miles. I knew the second half would have a lot more climbing and would be more exposed to the sun. It was beginning to get hot, so I wasn't looking forward to being in direct sunlight. The first mile or so rolled by pretty quick. I caught up to Sarah and Desiree, both of whom were looking strong, talked for a few minutes and then continued on. The next aid station was supposed to be 3.8 miles from the start, so I felt like I would get there relatively quickly. The climbing had already begun, but it didn't feel overly steep and was quite runnable. I still tried to take walk breaks though as I didn't want to burn myself out and chance cramping. 30 minutes went by, then 40, then 50. Where was the aid station? I started asking people that I passed if I had missed it, and they assured me that I hadn't. One hour and 7 minutes after leaving the start area I arrived at the aid station. Psychologically I was struggling at this point. There was no way that was 3.8 miles. If it was it was the slowest 3.8 miles I had ever run. I asked the aid station volunteer if he thought the mileage was accurate. He assured me that it wasn't and this it was closer to 5.3. I was a lot happier to hear that, but it still felt like I had taken too long to get there. Emotionally I was hitting a low point.

But I filled up my bottles, tried to shut out the negative thoughts, and continued on. The next stretch was a long downhill to a creek, and then a seemingly interminable climb up to the next aid station. Miles were seeming much longer than in the early stages of the race. By the time I arrived at the aid station I was cursing under my breath. It had taken me an hour and fifteen minutes to cover that stretch (less the time that I spent at the aid station; my strategy for laps was to hit my lap button as soon as I arrived at an aid station, thus the aid station time was built into the following lap). If the first aid station was at the 5.3 mile mark, then I had just run 5.5 miles in appx and hour and 10 minutes. Granted, I had descended 1000 ft, and then climbed 600 ft, and it was hot, but it still felt like I was taking too long. When I had pulled into the start/finish under 5 hours, I had allowed myself to dream that I might finish in under 10 hours since the second half was only 21.8 miles. Having spent 2 hours and 28 minutes making it to the farthest point of the course diminished that hope. With all the climbing left to do and my legs starting to fade, how could I reverse course in less time than it had taken me on the way out.

I spent very little time at this aid station. I grabbed my full bottles from my drop bag along with a packet of blocks, I stuffed a pb & j square in my mouth and set off again. I had been continually taking S-caps every hour along the way to prevent cramping and although I wasn't cramping I was starting to feel a little heavy. I now needed to descend a relatively steep (for efficient running) 600 ft to the creek before climbing back up 1000 feet to the Red Wolf aid station. Not ten steps out of the aid station I knew I might be in trouble. My IT Band on my left leg was starting to make itself known. Descending with a cranky IT Band is a bad combination. I tried to focus on anything but pain and just kept on trucking. The creek came and went and then I was on the long climb back up to the pass. I talked with a few folks along this stretch and just tried to stay focused on the end goal. I desperately wanted water and couldn't wait to get to the aid station. When I pulled in a greedily drank 3 8 oz bottles full without stopping. I was clearly getting dehydrated in the hot conditions. I filled up one bottle with just water to add to my belt and set back out.

It had taken me an hour and 23 minutes to get back to Red Wolf Pass. I had exactly one hour and 9 minutes to get myself back to the finish in under 10 hours. The last 5.3 miles were a very long, gradual downhill. My IT Band and knees were protesting strongly at this point. I had to stop and walk every 5 minutes or so just to give my knees a break. I got passed up by 4 or 5 people along this last stretch. At the 35 minute mark I had a woman tell me with extreme confidence that I was only 2 miles from the finish. I asked her twice to confirm and she said yes, less than 2 miles. I gave it everything I had at this point. I could do another 2 miles and make it under 10 hours. But 20 minutes went by and I knew I wasn't that close to the start. At that point I saw a woman who told me I had 3 miles to go. How was that possible? I knew that couldn't be true but in my depleted state I believed her and it just sucked all the energy right out of me. My knees were killing me. I knew I couldn't make another 3 miles and be under 10. Thankfully not 5 minutes later I recognized a landmark and knew I was really close. There was a short hill (which felt delightful on my knees after all the descending), a turn on to road and then I was there.

I saw Lynn and Jodie cheering for me as I got close to the finish. I think they could see the pain on my face b/c they asked if I was OK. I responded "No" and felt the tears start to spring up. I tried to find some speed and kicked it in to the finish. And then it was over. I had made it - 9:54:15 was my official time. It had taken me 1:03:20 to do the final 5.3 miles. Lynn was right there as was Todd (the race director). They both asked if I was ok. I think I was crying and swearing at the same time. I felt more emotional at this finish than I ever have. I'm not sure if it was because of the pain or the fact that I achieved my goal but the emotion was a bit overwhelming. Lynn & Jodi kept me moving to prevent me from cramping up, and got me some cold water. We got to watch more finishers come in, and were lucky enough to see several of my daily mile friends cross the line.

Overall a good first 50. I had my seriously low moments, but I had really high moments as well. I look forward to my next one.

Stats:
9:54:12
Overall: 55/138
Gender: 7/41
Division: 3/11

Fueled by Fine Wine Half Marathon

My friend Alice had the idea to sign up for this race. It was a half-marathon in wine country, starting in Dundee, OR, about 45 minutes from Portland. It was a spendy race, $85, but included wine-tasting after the event and a donation to several organizations (including a Newfoundland Rescue organization). Since Alice had gone along with me on several of my plans I thought I should go along with this one. Lee and Celeste also signed up so there were 4 of us on race day.

We headed down early, arriving in Dundee at 6:20 am. The race started at 7. This was perfect as it gave us a bit of time to use the facilities and relax for a minute or two before the race started. At 7 am the gun went off and we immediately set off up a steep hill. This would set the tone for the course. It was up one hill, then down, then up another hill. Right off the bat I got my heart rate up really high and felt cold and tingly until it went back down to a normal rate.

At the beginning I tried to stick with Alice, Lee, and Celeste but my legs were tired from the previous day's run so I dropped back a bit. In short order we went from pavement to gravel to dirt road. We ran through a vineyard, up and down some more hills, more gravel roads. I was cursing Alice's name with every step. Gravel is my least favorite surface to run on. I had worn my racing flats today but they didn't seem to be any more comfortable the Crocs. There were times when the road surface felt like spiky shards of glass.

About the 6 mile mark I pulled back up to the group. Alice and I ran together for a bit before she got ahead of me. Celeste and Lee dropped back as Lee's knee began to give him trouble. I was happy to see each mile tick off as I was just not feeling the race today. I could see Alice bobbing along ahead of me but didn't have the energy to try to reel her in. We passed the 12 mile mark and I was happy to be heading for the finish. There was a good hill right at the end, a tight turn, and then a downhill to the finish. I passed by Janet and Jazzy who cheered me on. I turned a last corner and realized I had just finished the race - it was a bit of a strange ending.

Post-race: Janet, Jazzy, Lee, Celeste, Alice and me.

I was happy to be done. I found Alice and we met up with Janet & Jazzy. Five minutes or so later Celeste and Lee finished. We grabbed our wine glasses and headed to the food tent. They did have quite the spread of food - strawberries, bananas, brie, brownies, almonds, croissants, and bread. Then there were at least 20 wineries there pouring tastes of wine. I only sampled two - I felt my body really needed water more than wine at this point.

Overall an OK race but probably not one I would do again. The event organizer's truly did an excellent job and put together a good race, but I just didn't overly enjoy the course.

Official time - 1:57:24
Stats: Overall - 150/1096; Gender - 46/772; Division - 8/130

Training Run - 40 miles

I wanted to get a longer run in prior to the race at the end of the month. Mentally I felt I needed to achieve the 40 mile mark. I planned a long and complicate route through Forest Park that would enable me to tick a bunch of trails and firelanes off my All-Trails Challenge list. I tried to enlist a few people to join me - one for the first 20 and one for the second 20, but I didn't end up having any success. After much consideration I decided to simplify my route and do some out and backs on Wildwood. I felt this would be safer if anything were to go wrong with me physically, and I didn't want to push deep into the park solo.

I had to do an early morning airport run which had me pulling in to the Germantown parking lot at 5:50 am. It was very quiet, I was the only car in the lot, and although it was fully light out it still felt a bit dark in the park. I gathered my things (hydration pack with 1.5 liters of water and 1 liter of Gatorade, 2 packs of clif shot blocks, 2 packets of Gu, and 1 cliff bar), and hit the trail at 6 am.I strapped my pepper spray to my hand just in case I ran into anything unsafe. I took 5 steps on the trail and thought "what the heck am I wearing on my feet?" Somehow I had failed to put on my running shoes that morning or to throw them in the car. This was especially ironic since I had looked at the shoes the night before and I thought that I should put them by my other running items. Then I figured how stupid would I have to be to forget my running shoes and discarded that idea. Well it was an early morning state and in my tired stupor it hadn't occurred to me to change shoes after going to the airport. I hadn't tackled hills in my Crocs before and these were not even my running Crocs. They were super loose and didn't fit my feet all that well. After almost stepping out of them 4 or 5 times I stopped and girth hitched an elastic hair band to the back strap of the Croc and then slipped my foot through the hair band. This wasn't super comfortable (eventually the bands started to dig into my skin) but it worked.

It was 5.6 miles heading west on Wildwood to its end at Newberry Road. It was super quiet and I only saw one other couple during this entire stretch. I saw some friends at the Newberry Trailhead. They were about to begin the full Wildwood run which would end at Oregon Zoo. We chatted for a few minutes before I headed back to Germantown. It was 5.6 miles back. I arrived back at the car - it had taken me 2 hours and 4 minutes for 11.2 miles. I dropped off my gloves and arm warmers in the car and then headed east on Wildwood.

I kept changing my mind as to how far on Wildwood I wanted to go. The Germantown trailhead is at milepost 24.6. I ended up running to milepost 13. Along this stretch I tried to find an easy, effortless pace that I could just maintain for miles without thinking about it. I was happy to find a cruising pace that seemed to fit the bill. There were actually several stretches where I lost site of the mile markers for a couple of miles at a time. Things were feeling pretty good.

At milepost 13 I turned around and walked for a bit and ate the clif bar I had with me. Got back into my cruising pace and was back at mile 15 when I ran into my friends again. They were making good progress on their end-end goal. It was nice to see some people I knew and chat a bit. I was getting a bit lonely and bored out by myself. I started playing some mental tricks with myself along this stretch to keep me going. I knew I was going to have a hard time not stopping when I got back to the car so I prepared for that by running through it in my head.

Once back at the car (34.5 miles in) I stopped and ate a veggie sushi roll, got some water and Gatorade in, reloaded my hydration pack, and headed west again on Wildwood. I didn't have to run this entire stretch again, just had to make it to mile post 27.5 before turning around. This stretch felt really slow. I would run 1 mile and walk for a minute - just kept repeating this and counting down those last few miles.

Total distance 40 miles, total running time 8 hrs. This felt really slow. In the end I think that the Crocs slowed me down a bit. I had to be much more careful with each step and the gravel sections of the trail were quite painful so I had to tip toe through them.