Reality of the Moment

As I perused social media this morning, I noted notices the abundance of people racing. I was already mopey, and this just made matters worse. I wanted to race. Of course, I then perseverated on looking for races that are: 1. on my day off 2. cheap 3. distances I actually want to do. This of course, forced me to postpone going out on my long run, which I was already cranky about. I was planning to run alone.  Ben is working through a minor injury and I had not made plans with any of the friends I have that like to run far for fun. I mean seriously, woe is me. I have to go do a long run by myself and don’t even get to do it with someone. To top it all off, I was not planning to do a trail run, instead, I was stuck running the same, usual places I do all my other runs.  Seriously.

I headed out through the neighborhood to a local path that follows a creek and can be taken for miles in a few different directions. As usual, I was grumpy for the first 2 or 3 miles, and then I finally found my groove. Between mile 3 and 4, I was struck by the fact that I had been running for a little while and had seen only one other person. I was essentially alone. It then occurred to me that I was surrounded by beautiful scenery, with rabbits in the brush and the trees at the height of their color change.

It was in that moment that I realized I am always wanting more… more trail, more miles, more races, more people to run with, more time to run, more more more. I stopped for a moment to just be. I had started to miss out on the reality of the moment. Here I was, an introvert, getting to spend several hours alone, doing something I love. I had been given the gift of time, to be alone to pray and to think and to just enjoy the quiet and the scenery. I realized that this same old path, is an amazing place to get to run on. I was surrounded by trees and could hear the creek and just barely make out the sound of distance traffic. I was not racing, but it occurred to me that on a day off of work, for fun, I decided to go run the same distance many people trained to race… and I did it for fun. That is awesome.

It really is so easy to get wrapped up into planning and looking for the next thing to come along. Sure, dreaming is a good thing, but too much and we lose sight of the current moment. I was struck by how easy it is to ignore the here and now. It really is gone in an instant and if we are not paying attention, all we are left with is a vague memory and possibly some frustration. Enjoy the moment, who knows it may actually be worth it after all.

Defeat {Or Not}

If you ever read any running literature, you know it is not uncommon to read about high level athletes who drop out of a race for one reason or another. In fact, just the other day, I read an article by Rickey Gates, an amazing trail runner, who had a DNF (did not finish) at a race.

I have now run a handful of races and have had one DNF. In fact, it was a DNF that I am proud of. I was signed up to run a half marathon in the middle of training for a full marathon. I had injured myself and had just begun going to PT before the half. I got to the start line of the half, knowing that I would probably not finish. At mile 8, I knew that if I wanted to be able to run my marathon a month later, I needed to drop. It was a tough decision in the moment, but one that I was grateful I made.

Apart from that, my other races and runs have mostly been “successes.” Well, last weekend, I was signed up to run the Devil Mountain 50 mile race in Pagosa Springs. It was going to be my second 50 mile race and I was trained for it. I had spent the months since my last 50 miler trying to hone in on my weeks spots. When it was time to taper, I did such a good job that my legs ached from not running (weird, right?)?

Race day came shortly after the flooding in Colorado, with some additional raining the day before. The morning was crisp and cold, and I was determined to do well. The race started and I went out at a steady pace, knowing in my mind exactly what I needed to do in order to make the cut off to be able to continue on to 50 mile race.

The first 10 miles or so were awesome. My legs felt good, the weather was cold but perfect, and I felt like I was buying time. When we hit the climb (pretty much mile 10-18), I was determined to be consistent and run what I could, while power hiking the rest. Then… we hit the mud. Not mud like “oh, it is still cold enough to be frozen” mud or “oh, I guess the trail is a little muddy” or “oh, I love mud!” kind of mud. This was real, awful, deep mud. The kind of mud that when you take three steps forward up hill, you inevitably slide back four steps. The kind of mud that tries to take your shoe if you aren’t paying attention. The kind of mud that when you look ahead at the runners on the hill ahead, you immediately have the life and excitement sucked right out of you because you can see them backsliding downhill. This was not just any mud.
By the time I made it through the climb up, I realized that making it to the cut off was going to be a stretch, but was hopeful that I could make up time on the downhill. Wrong. The downhill mud was at least as bad, if not worse than the up. When I would try to start to run, I would have moments of panic as I tried to keep my butt and head directly above my feet without slipping and sliding all over the place!!

I reached a mental spot where I was hopeful that the cut off would be extended, knowing how the trail conditions were, yet realizing that I needed to embrace the fact that I was still “going to be able to” finish as a 50k runner. Well, when we got to the aid station at the 50 mile/50k cut, we were told that the cut off was a firm cut off and that we had missed it, but could still finish as a 50k runner without penalty. Ben almost yelled at the man who told us and I almost cried.

I wrestled with myself over the next several miles (ok, not just miles, hours if we are being honest)about my anger/sadness/disappointment/feeling crappy about myself/doubting my ability/grief about not finishing the stupid race I had signed up to do. Sure, I had told myself early that at least I would “get to run” the 50k, but really?? I had worked my butt off for months to train for a 50!! How could I let myself down like that??

Ben basically had to encourage me the entire way to the finish because I was so distraught about not being able to run 50 miles (again, weird, right?). Then he had to coax me not to run 19 more miles after crossing the line. Unfortunately, this part is not a lie. I spent at least an hour after crossing the finish stewing about my performance, whether or not I was going to go run 19 more miles. I am not going to lie… I may have even shed a tear or two.

After I finally calmed down, I had a beer, some food, and started to converse with other finishers, several of whom had set out to run the 50 miler and had missed the cutoff. Ben and I started to hear rumors that only 8 people had made it past the first check point and then only 7 past the second. As I started to ask around, it was confirmed that only 2 women were among these 7 individuals.

As I began to process the information and over the next several days, it occurred to me that even though I had trained well (I felt amazing the next day), I was not alone in missing the cutoff. In fact, I was more the norm than not. It occurred to me that even though I may have felt defeated, I really had no right to feel that way. I began to realize all that I learned from my perceived defeat.

I had set out to run 50 miles and had been unsuccessful. The beauty of running is that regardless of how hard you train, every day is a different day and no one can ever fully predict the outcomes. Even the best of the best fail. I had trained well for a 50 miler and can easily use this same training plan again in the future.

I skipped a step between the marathon and 50 miler but can now say that I have my first official 50k on the books. I even placed in my age division for my first 50k. What if I had set out to actually race a 50k and not a 50 miler? 

Defeat is a beautiful thing. It is really only defeat if you allow it to be. There is a lot to be gleaned from perceived defeat. The best thing to do, I think, is to embrace it, learn from it, and keep running.

Needless to say, Devil Mountain 50 miler, I will be back , and I will make you mine… one day…

The Racing Spirit

I am sure the bombings that took place at the Boston Marathon last week impacted just about everyone in this country in one way or another. As I runner, who had several friends who ran Boston (but were all safe), the impact was an emotional one for me. Although I was not directly impacted, being able to run is something I place a high value on, and this has been trampled on for me, as well as for many other runners.

Running provides a sense of peace and freedom to me. Many times I find myself free of all other concerns of life, if for a brief moment. Racing brings people together. We all run for different yet with somewhat similar reasons. We come from varied backgrounds, yet we run to accomplish a goal: cross the finish line. To many, running is sacred. Even though the intent of the bombers is still unknown, such an attack diminishes the sense of peace and freedom found in running. This is a difficult thing to wrestle with!

Today was a big day for me. Today, I set out to complete my 10^th official marathon at the inaugural Horesetooth Marathon, and first marathon in Colorado since the attack at Boston. There was some apprehension on my part leading to the start, due to the fear now associated with racing. That said, early this morning, a small group of runners gathered in Fort Collins, not willing to allow fear to dampen their spirits. Prior to the start of the race, the course director asked for 26.2 seconds of silence for the victims in Boston. In that moment, I offered up prayers for the victims, their families, and all those affected by this tragedy. Then it struck me; in this brief moment, this diverse group of runners had stopped all movement, ceased all activities, and turned their thoughts to others. Regardless of their backgrounds or personal belief systems, we had found yet another source of unity. We remembered the tragedy of last week, yet we were resolute in not letting heartache deter us from taking part in the struggle and triumph of the marathon.

The race itself was one of the most difficult races I have ever done, due primarily to the conditions on the course. It was also a beautiful course! During periods of the run, I found myself thinking about how amazing it is that runners, who often run in isolation or small groups, have the ability to come together for a few hours to support and push each other to accomplish a goal.

As we neared the last mile, we could hear the cheering at the finish line; it occurred to me that it was a similar sound to what all other runners hear as they approach the end. The last mile can often feel beyond difficult with everything hurting and it feels like it can take so much energy just to cross that line. Runner after runner finished to the same cheering I did, after pushing through hard mile after hard mile.

A runner’s spirit can be bruised; but it cannot be crushed, trampled one, or taken away. A runner’s spirit is a testament to endurance, perseverance, and hard work. However, in a race—even though we run as individuals—in unity we push towards the same end and the same goal. As a runner, I will continue to find peace and joy and freedom in running, despite the challenges of this life.

Race Day...Hiccups

First off, for those interested, I do still plan to post about our Gore-Tex TransRockies Run experience. There is just so much I want to say.

On another note though, I LOVE running marathons! One of the cool things about marathons is that you can prepare, train, visualize,  organize and study profile maps prior to race day; but come race day, anything can happen prior to or during the race.

Ben and I ran another marathon on Labor Day (I will review the race in another post). We felt pretty prepared for it after coming off of such high mileage during the TransRockies only a few weeks before. We packed up with all our gear (and some extra to be prepared) and headed to Colorado Springs. Needless to say, my allergy meds, which I rely heavily on (especially as seasons change), conveniently jumped their way out of my bag prior to leaving. I added some Benadryl to my bag of electrolyte tabs and mentally psyched myself out of thinking anything could be wrong.

We arrived at the pickup spot on time. However, the buses ended up leaving a few minutes late which caused a time crunch at the start line. Conveniently, at the start line location, there were too many runners for the porta potties that had been provided. As the announcer was making the five minute call, I decided to skip the line and head to the bushes. I found the prime spot, took care of business, and headed out of the bushes to meet Ben near the start chute.

 I felt something weird on my shin and when I looked down, I thought I had mud on my shin. As I wiped some away into the grass, I quickly realized the smell was much more reminiscent of poop that it was of mud, and I started to panic as the announcer was counting down the minutes to start. Ben sprayed water from his hydration pack onto my leg as I frantically wiped it away and stifled a gag. When we got to the chute, it occurred to me that I had more than just a unique runner smell… I smelled like crap. What a great way to start a race.

The race started without another hitch and no one did ever comment on me smelling like crap, which was a really good thing. That said, throughout the entire race, I had to be so very conscious of not using my hand to wipe sweat off of my face or high five people as I ran by. I was so relieved to finally have clean hands as soon as we were done!

I will continue to embrace the unknown of the marathon, but I can tell you that from now on, I will always look before I squat!!!

Things I look forward to as a second time Gore-Tex TransRockies runner

For those of you who do not know me very well, I should start by saying that I can be a little on the rigid side (ok, sometimes rigid is an understatement). I like to have facts, data, info, control; especially pertaining to what will directly impact the flow of my day. Last year, when Ben and I prepared for the Gore- Tex TransRockies Run, my biggest fear was not wondering if I would finish, even though I started with a nagging foot injury. My biggest fear was not feeling like I knew all of the logistics, which caused me to feel a little out of control. I remember having so many questions prior to starting and trying so hard to let them go.

As it goes, everything turned out wonderfully last year (ok, except for the fact that Ben got some nasty bug on day 4). This year, as I prepare for Gore-Tex, I come at it with a new sense of peace and excitement. I feel like I am able to relax quite a bit more, knowing that there will still be unknowns, but also knowing what I came away with last year. I am downright excited. I know most of you reading this won’t be doing the race, but I feel the need to share what I learned last year and what I am excited about. Here are just a few of these things.

·         Anything can happen in this race. Last year, Ben and I had awesome training and he got sick on day 4. We still finished, together, and had an awesome time. This year, we had good training with fewer miles, but I know we are both stronger runners overall.

·         It is important to have fun, especially if you are not running as a competitive runner. Take time to soak in the views, laugh all the way through the creek, talk with people you run next to, and remember to savor and enjoy the present moment.

·         The shower trucks are amazing.

·         It is easy to gain weight during this race. Strange, considering you run 120 miles in six days, but the food (and the beer) is just that good.

·         The volunteers are amazing!

·         There is nothing like the nervous excitement at the start line in Buena Vista. I mean, who would not be excited to run 120 miles in the mountains and then camp with a bunch of random people?

·         Recovery is so important. Getting into the frigid streams is tough, but oh so helpful.

·         The food on the night of day five is amazingly good. Don’t miss out!

·         During stage one, the first aid station is almost like a mirage in the dessert. Take advantage and enjoy the volunteers!

·         It is ok to look like a nerd in spandex pants and compression socks under your shorts. Everyone else will be doing it by day two.

·         There is no water late at night or early in the morning, so if you like to wash your face first thing, face wipes are the way to go!

·         The first night can be a tough night of sleep with all the different noises coming from the tents around you. Bring ear plugs if necessary. By night two, the sleep is so much better!

·         Don’t be afraid to stop and help a fellow runner. Everyone is trying to get to the finish! Last year when Ben got sick, we collected at least 3 different remedies from friendly runners trying to help out.

·         Day six is especially tough. You are so close but so far. The sounds of the finish line from the top of the mountain are well worth the climb.

·         There is nothing quite like being off the grid almost completely. Apart from sending updates to my family and checking on them, it is so nice to have next to no communication with the rest of the world!

·         The people that run this race are some of the coolest, hardest working people in the world. Have fun making new friends!

·         Take advantage of the PT’s who set up shop at the camp. Even if it is something as minor as a blister needing to be popped and disinfected, they’ve got the goods.

·         Spending five nights in a tent with your running partner/husband, sharing the views, pushing hard together, and crossing the line together is so worth the work!

Here  is to an awesome 2012 Gore Tex TransRockies Run!

Running with purpose

It is really easy for me to find reasons to run. I know I usually run because: I love to, it is good for me, it keeps me balanced, I sleep better, I love to, and the list goes on and on.

Sometimes, it is also really easy to forget that there are other reasons to run. Recently, my community, the one in which I live, work, play, and run, was traumatized by a tragic shooting at a movie theater nearby. In these situations, it is often easy to feel overwhelmed and at times, helpless. Well, I know that there are two things that usually help me refocus and find joy: prayer and running.

That said, I found myself wondering how to use running as a way to support those affected by the recent shooting. Last night, the Boulder Running Company in Greenwood Village (if you have never been to this specific store, I would strongly recommend it… they are awesome!!)  hosted their weekly pub run. Instead of just getting together to run and enjoy beer and food afterwards, Adidas decided to pay $3 per mile, up to three miles for every person who ran to a fund for the shooting victims. Fifty-five people showed up to run. As I watched people filter in, I was struck by the fact that most of us don’t know each other and many of us were probably not directly impacted by the shooting. The one thing we all had in common was that we could gather to do the one thing we enjoy to serve a greater purpose. How cool is that?

So, if the next time you start to wonder why you run, I would challenge you to look around and see if there is some greater purpose you could be running for.

You know you are a distance runner when...

I know there are a number of these lists floating around, however, I decided I would make one of my own, so here goes…

You know you are a distance runner when:

*        Body Glide is a normal part of your daily routine, similar to deodorant

*        You often have fewer than 10 toe nails

*        You continuously scrub your ankles and your elbow pits (cubital fossa is the correct phrase) thinking they are dirty, but alas, those are tan lines

*        Weekend plans are determined around mileage, not the other way around

*        An eight mile run no longer feels like a “long run” and four miles goes by really fast

*        An eight mile has become “just eight”

*        You start to plan your vacations and visits with family around races

*        Compression gear is a normal part of your attire and you wear it around shamelessly

*        Fuel for runs gets its own line item in the budget, just like groceries and gas

*        You own more running shorts than you do casual shorts and you can’t wait to buy the next pair

*        Chaffing in strange places is almost expected

*        You find people starring at you in public (such as in line at the grocery store) as you realize you look like a contortionist as you stretch those sore muscles

*        You spend more on running shoes than any other shoe in your wardrobe

*        Snot rockets don’t phase you

*        You watch for updates on the WS 100

*        You know what the WS 100 is

*        Cotton t-shirts given at races might prevent you from signing up… who wears cotton any more anyways?

*        You know what a fartlek is

*        A foam roller has a special spot in the house

*        Life celebrations start to involve a run of some sort

*        There is no better smell than the smell of a brand new pair of running shoes

*        A taper with runs no longer then 4-6 miles in incredibly painful

*        The USA marathon and track and field Olympic trials have made it onto your calendar as events to track

*        You know who Gordy Ansleigh is

*        You could lick salt off of a cracker without ever worrying about eating the cracker

*        Your coworkers comment on the amount of water you drink and you find yourself wondering why they don’t drink more

*        You know precisely how many miles are on your current pair of running shoes

*        The second half always hurts so good…and often feels easier than the first half

*        Being called a “jogger” hurts a little

What are your “you know you are a runner when…” moments?