The Marathon

I finished a marathon. Don't I look different?

(answer: nope)

 

 I still remember running the mile in highschool PE.

I HATED it. I remember telling myself with each painful lap that as soon as my school PE classes were over with, I would never ever ever run again.

And then I gained 12 pounds my freshman year of college.

It's true. (read about it here)

So when I was planning a wedding at 19 (also true. this post is full of surprises!), I needed to get myself back into shape. Or at least, some kind of shape.

I started running. Here, and there. A mile or two.

I hated it.

We were newlyweds with terrible diets and little time, so I tried to keep up my low mileage runs, and continued to hate almost every step.

Three years later a baby was born. I would log slow and painful miles when daddy was home with baby boy, not so much loving the running part, but loving how quickly my body was bouncing back because of the running.

We moved from California to Utah and I signed up for a 10 mile race with a friend. I had no idea what I was doing, what to wear, or how on in the world I was going to run 10 miles.

But.

I did it. Somehow I completed that race, and for the first time in my life I really, 

completely, enjoyed running. 

I was a runner.

So for me, I've been a "runner" for 7 years. I ran a few road half marathons, 6 Ragnar relays, gave up the road for good and ran a few trail races, 100s of miles on the trail just for fun, and three weeks ago I ran my first ever [trail] marathon.

"So wait a minute" 

you are thinking to yourself right now.... 

"you've been running for 7 years and you just ran your FIRST marathon? 

Then you haven't been a real runner!"

There is this thing in the running community that really drives me crazy......you can start talking to someone about running and The Question always comes up

"What marathons have you run???"

uh, none.

"[lonnnnnng silence]..........oh"

and then the conversation usually ends.

I've heard people say

"well I've never ran a marathon, so I guess I'm not a real runner."

I've also known too many new runners who skip the 5k, skip the 10k, skip the 1/2 marathon, completely beat up their feet, trash their knees, and beat their body so they can hate every single step of 26.2 miles.....JUST so they can say they've ran a marathon, and therefore be accepted as a Real, Official, Runner.

I don't get it. 

If you run--any distance--and you semi enjoy it, most of the time, then YOU my friend, are a real runner.

Are you fast? Are you slow? Are you running? Then you are a runner.

Don't let a stupid number determine what you are.

In June I ran my furthest distance yet--20 miles (read about it here). It was a tough trail, with 4500ft to climb, but I finished feeling strong and knowing I wanted to do more.

In August I signed up for a trail marathon in Park City. I had four weeks to train.

Whoops.

I wasn't starting from scratch--I'd been running short distances, hiking, and climbing mountains all summer, but I was a bit nervous because I hadn't really got any decent long runs in.

I ran Timp, ran 16 miles with 3200ft of climbing, ran 22 miles (longest run ever! it felt AWESOME.) 

I threw in a handful of short runs and got excited....I was going to run a great race.

Race Day

It was a beautiful morning. A little warm, but I knew I'd be in the pines and aspens most of the way. My pack was loaded with lots of water, EFS, and S-Caps, and we were off.

Right away I got into a good group of runners. A good push--not too fast, comfortable, and small conversations here and there as we ticked away the miles.

Ok. So here's where this race report is going to be different....I usually break down race day mile by mile, lots of details, hills, bumps, feelings, emotions.....all of it. (see other race reports HERE)

But here's the thing......it kind of allllll blended together this time.

Smooth, perfect singletrack through giant pines and aspen groves (really--this trail was perfect). Roller coaster ups and downs--a very runnable course. Lots of aide stations, lots of friendly people to chat with in passing, and surprisingly no dark moments. No "hitting the wall"--just hitting the ground once....HARD.

I don't think I have ever crashed so badly--or laughed so hard at myself (by myself). While I felt mostly good mentally the whole way--my body was definitely tired, legs heavy, feet slow (oh you know, probably because I was a lousy trainer). Somewhere in the late teens of mileage my feet were heavy and too lazy to get up and over a big root and I flew--arms out, legs in the air, (all in slow motion, mind you) and sailed through the air, coming down sprawled out in the dust. It tweaked my knee, and I had to run through that for a few miles, but other than that and a few really awesome blisters, the miles continued to fly by--I couldn't believe it when there were only a few miles left to go.

Before I knew it I was heading down a stretch of dirt road that led to the finish.

look at my tiny two back behind me!!
ps. dorkiest picture ever

Done.

Results

miles: 26.2

elevation: 2861 climbing, 4014 descent

time: 4:40

women: 24/121

overall: 82/284

I finished happy--I think I could have probably pushed a little harder, I definitely could have trained better, but overall it was a good race.

So question is.....

has my life changed since I finished a marathon?

Do I feel different now that I am a REAL runner?

Was it the absolute best thing I've ever done?

no. 

You guys, I'm here to tell you.....it was just another race. Just another run.
I was EXTREMELY happy to finish--don't get me wrong, but I feel the same happiness at the end of any race. Any goal accomplished feels good.

There were great parts and hard parts and funny parts. 

I got dirty (I finished with a dirt-stache), I ended with a smile on my face....and that's why I liked it. 

And THAT'S what makes me a runner--not a number, not a time, just the feeling I get when I'm running (and sometimes falling).

Just get out and run! If you like it, then congratulations, 

YOU are a runner.

So I'm a big time marathoner now. What's next now that I'm legit?

I'm thinking a 50k might be fun(?) within the next year.....what does that make me?

crazy.

*****

for my fellow running friends with technical questions....

all my gear was exactly the same as it was in THIS post--check it out I have every single detail for you + fav products.

(seriously can't say enough good things about my favorite North Face shorts!)

food was all the same too except I had chicken and veggie stir fry for dinner the night before.

Pocatello 50 Race Report

(for all you non runners I always include a very condensed version of my race report:)

I ran a 20 mile trail race. On a mountain. In Idaho. It was the best I've ever felt running. 

I ate some nachos. 

The end

camping at the start (although I slept in a nice soft bed....)

 

THE RACE 

The Pocatello 50. 

50 miles 

50K

or 20 miles (my choice)

It's not a race.

That's what I kept telling myself.

Not a race. Not a race. Not a race.

I felt under-trained (I'd been getting out alot....just not putting in major miles--I'd only gone up to 14 twice, and with about half the elevation I'd be climbing). I'd never ran more than 17 miles in my life  (last summer), I get  really nervous when it comes to races, and just a tad bit competitive.......so by telling myself it wasn't a race.....it was supposed to make me feel a lot better. 

It didn't.

I put in a few easy miles two days before the big day and told myself I was ready.

THE DAY BEFORE

I wanted to make sure I was well hydrated and well fed.

Breakfast: Raw oats with almond milk + maple syrup + chia seeds + banana + strawberries + almonds + coconut +hemp seeds + flax seeds (basically THIS breakfast)

Snack: apple + peanut butter

A little yoga. A quick vinyassa sequence, some pigeon, and cow face. 

Stretched out my hamstrings and calves.

Lunch: Zucchini fritters (shredded zucchini + garbanzo beans + oats and egg as a binder + feta cheese and lemon, all mixed together and cooked up in olive oil.

Snack: Lara Bar

I loaded up the car with my gear and my friend/cheering squad Ali, and we headed for The Land of Potatoes.

Car snack: Nuun, lots of water, dried mangos, dried coconut and cashews.

Dinner: (prepared by my awesome Idaho friend Tanae) chicken and pasta with pesto

We stayed up late chatting (my race didn't start until 11:00 am because it started AFTER the 50 mile and 50k races) which took my mind of my nerves and prevented me from just laying in bed all night worrying.

RACE MORNING

nerrrrrrves.

It's not a race. Just a regular run. Not a race. No need to worry.

Breakfast:

Oatmeal with peanut butter + hemp seeds + chia seeds + coconut + almonds + a few chocolate chips. Orange juice.

1 hr before:

some nuun. 1/2 a lara bar

GEAR

One year later and my North Face Better Than Naked Shorts are still my absolute favorite to run in. 

So comfortable and light.

Columbia top

Smartwool Socks (the BEST)

Brooks Cascadia 8

Ultraspire Surge pack. LOVE this pack. It's comfortable and doesn't rub or bounce at all. The pockets are perfect for my EFS flask, phone, chapstick, and S-Caps

Fueled with: Lots of water, Nuun, and EFS liquid shots, every 30-40 minutes. I have decided I like this way more than GU brand. To me it tastes better, goes down easier, and has more of what you need and less of what you don't. Plus it comes in a refillable flask so you're not left with empty sticky packages filling up your pack.

S-Caps.  Last year in THIS race my calves cramped up like I'd never experienced before. I was terrified that it would happen again so after a little research I found that even with electrolyte gels, my sodium and potassium could have still been off, causing crazy charly horses. 

I was hoping these magic little salt pills would help me out.....and they did! 

I took one capsule every 45 minutes. 

START

Did a few more stretches. Calves. Hamstrings. Hips.

Ready to go.

3...2....1........GO!!

And we are off!

Calm down. Not too fast. Sink in to a comfortable pace. 

The winners were out of sight in no time, and I found a comfortable spot with a small group in the middle of the pack. The first few miles were terrible. I was still working on my nerves, number one. Plus it was a long gradual climb--the kind of hill not steep enough to hike, but too steep to feel good running. The kind of hill that looks like it SHOULD be easy, but your quads and lungs say otherwise.

oh--

AND IT WAS HOT

So hot.

And by so hot I mean probably just low 70s but I have been running mornings and evenings and my high temperatures have been mayyyyybe 60s, mostly 50s. So I was sweating like crazy from the beginning, my heart rate was racing, and for those first few miles I was wondering what I had gotten myself into as the sun beat down on my face.

BEING COMPETITIVE AND ALMOST THROWING UP

I was also wishing the group I was running with would just slow down and hike already. The trail was beginning to steepen....yet they continued to run. I kept telling myself that it wasn't a race, so it didn't matter--I should just hike a little....but my legs wouldn't let me. 

I tried to slow down.....it just wouldn't work. I just couldn't let them get ahead of me.

At this point my nerves were still working themselves out and almost literally......I just knew I was going to throw up, and even turned around to make sure I had adequate distance from the person behind me for when I did.

I prepared myself and just thought about how much better I would feel after I'd done the deed.....

....still waiting......

.........come on........

and then my small group of runners started to hike.

PHEW! 

The trail had got just steep enough that we were ready for a break in running. In the next few minutes I gained control of my heart rate, my nerves, and sometime around mile 4 I realized 

"HEY! I am doing this!"

BREAKING IT UP

I went in to this not thinking about the 20 miles I was about to run. I broke it into smaller distances so I didn't have to think about the overall picture.

My first run was just 6 miles to the first aid station. Six miles! Easy. So by mile 4 when I finally got control of myself, I only had two to go. We climbed up through trees, a meadow, and wild flowers in every color--it was just so pretty. I was happy to be in my groove and finally enjoying it.

SPOILED

First aid station. These people are the BEST and they will get you anything you need. The nicest lady doused me with sunscreen while a man filled my pack with water. I grabbed a few bites of cold watermelon which was probably the best thing I had ever tasted in my life. 

After about two minutes I was off again.

9 MILES

Nine to the next aid station, and that section could even be broken up with about 5 up and 4 down--easy! I could do that. I'd broken off from my group and was alone for a few miles. Climbing gradually but with a good amount of running mixed in. I was feeling in control and finally enjoying myself. Flowers, the bluest sky, and a gentle breeze--it was perfect.

CLIMBING

And then we really started to climb. And climb and climb and climb.....less running and more hiking, sun beating down. Switchbacks up up up Scout Mountain. Scooping up some snow that was trailside and packing it into my shirt....ahhhh....relief.

CHICKEN LEGS

I had been by myself for quite sometime. As my chicken legs carried me as quickly as they could up the mountain, I noticed a slow but steady stream of runners starting to catch up to me. Climbing is defiantly not my strength and while I felt good, and felt like I could have kept going for quite some time, I didn't see how others were climbing so quickly. I was trying not to get discouraged, because remember--it wasn't a race, so who cares if they caught up...

 I tried not to.

somewhere near the top

SUMMIT: 8700 ft. 

DOWN

Downhill. Over the past year or so I have fallen in love with downhill running. Rocky, rooty, slippery-- bring it on. I am slowly learning to let loose and let my feet go where they please as gravity carries me down. As I began my decent I had a crowd of climbers slowly coming after me. I took off down the mountain without looking back. After a mile or so of some steep and slippery downhill, I reached a big snow patch to cross. I stepped in--it was slushy--and too steep to hike down without falling. hmmm.....

well, why not.

I sat down and slid. 

Feet straight out in front of me, fingers crossed that when I flew off my sledding hill they would stick their landing. I screamed as I slid, and my feet very ungracefully landed in the mud below. I turned around to see how many people had seen my dismount and heard my cries, and I didn't see a single soul.

No one.

I was alone on the mountain--I had lost those quick climbers and was again by myself.

LET'S DO THIS

Ok, this is a race now. Forget everything I said before.

I felt confident in my downhill abilities and wondered if I could catch anyone. I took off into the trees, zigzaging down the mountain through the warm scent of dust and pine.

Had I not been in race mode, I would have stopped to take one million pictures. Thick pines shot up from the ground, as far as I could see in every direction. Logs across the trail and tipped overhead like bridges to cross under. Down down down and feeling so good. Oh--and what's that?  A person. And another. I was catching them one by one was having so much fun I didn't even realize I was just about to the next aid station.

LAST LEG

I'd made it my nine miles. 

I devoured some more watermelon at the aid station, had my flask filled back up with EFS, and crossed my fingers my legs would hold out the last five miles. So far no cramping like last year, and I was just hoping these last 5 miles would feel as good--I was having so much fun.

THE ROAD

The worrrrrrrrrrst.

After miles of speedy downhill on gorgeous singletrack, a mile of fairly flat pavement in the blinding sun was pure torture. I can't help but stand in awe of marathoners and how they keep their focus on long stretches of concrete. I just can't do it.

OFF ROAD

yay! finally.

CLIMBING AGAIN

The last hill. Just a tiny blip on the elevation chart in comparison to what we'd just been up, but oh! It was steep. My legs were getting tired. A few steps of running, a few hiking. Repeat.

STILL CLIMBING

Well this is just taking forever.

THE TINIEST CHARLY HORSE AND A FREAK OUT

(still climbing mind you)

We were now running through a cross country ski trail. Overgrown and too steep for my liking, my legs were tired. I was alternating hiking and running and when I finally reached the top of our last climb I began to stretch my legs out and run down.

I felt the tiniest knot start to form in my right calf.

oh nooooooo.

NOOOOOOOOO.

!!!!!!!!

Not again. Not like last year. I still had two miles to go and quickly washed down another S-CAP with a gulp of water and a prayer.

It worked.

WAIT, WHAT HAPPENED HERE?

The last few miles were a blur. I was still moving along at an ok pace, passing a few runners but my legs were heavy. I just remember thinking only two more miles--easy. Only one more mile. Easy.

Only--wait--what's that?

ONE MILE TO GO SIGN

I think this sign was meant for encouragement "yay! only one more mile to go!" but my Garmin was clocking in at almost 20 miles already......nooooooooo! one more mile?!

One more mile. One more mile.

The trail spit me out onto the road and I knew I was close.

Down the road, around the corner......

FINISH!!!

thanks Ali for the photo!

 

RESULTS:

miles: 20.7

elevation: 4500 ft UP! (and then all of that back down)

time: 4:12

9/41 women

27/95 overall

STUFFING MY FACE:

After I'd crossed, drank a lakes worth of water, and let my stomach settle a bit, I dove into the baked potato bar and chili that was served at the finish. The food was all provided by volunteers and it really felt like one big happy family gathering. There was every kind of homemade cookie you could imagine, and a giant oatmeal and M&M cookie really hit the spot.

We left the finish and grabbed a chocolate peanut butter milkshake that was not at all what sounded good, but I gobbled it up anyway. A few hours later, you know--for second dinner--Ali and I shared the best nachos I'd ever eaten in my life. I don't know if it was just because I was starving, or because they were really that amazing, but I highly recommend hitting up El Herradero if you're even in Pocatello, Idaho.

 

NOTEWORTHY:

-This was hands down the best organized event I have ever ran. Road race/trail race/relay. The BEST. Everything went so smoothly, the trail was well marked, the aid stations were fabulous and the volunteers were so helpful, kind, and enthusiastic. The other runners were friendly, encouraging, and talkative and I had so much fun running this race.

-Green race. Race Director Luke Nelson wanted to make this year's race more environmentally friendly. The aid stations and finish line were completely cupless--each runner was given a small collapsible cup at the start of the race to use if we needed along the course. Dinner was served at the end and runners used our own dishes and silverware brought from home. From the race website "We had tremendous success reducing our garbage from more than 14 bags of CUPS last year to less than 11 bags of trash TOTAL this year. We are already working on other ideas on how to reduce our impact and improve our runners experience for next year."

-I almost swallowed a butterfly. In my joy of running downhill so quickly, mouth open with a stupid giddy grin, a little white mountain butterfly flew right into my mouth. I halfway choked and pulled it off my tongue. So that was a first.

-Those were really good nachos.

IN CONCLUSION:

This was the best I've ever felt running a race. I never hated it--no dark moments at all, felt good the whole way down, and felt strong (for the most part) crossing the finish. I wasn't wiped out afterwards like I've been in the past, and with the exception of my quads being a bit tight for a few days after, I wasn't all that sore. I already have my sights set on a few trail marathons in the fall, and I'm looking for a good 50k. 

This stuff is addicting.

checking in...

I'm working on my race report, but just wanted to check in and say......

....it was AWESOME. 

Most fun I've ever had racing, and the best I've ever felt. 

we have some flowers to plant, a farmers market to explore, and then I'll be back!

The One That Almost Killed Me

this is how it all ended (it did, eventually, end.) just in case you thought I didn't make it.

 

 Here is my (very long) race report for the Wahsatch Steeplechase. 

For all you runners I included what I ate and some other mumbo jumbo.

For those that aren't so into running I always provide a short version:

I ran up the steepest mountain. ever. There was puking and curse words flying (neither of which were from me). I climbed over some rocks and avoided falling to my death. I ran down the mountain. Things were going smoothly. And then they weren't. My legs broke. They almost fell off. But I finished. Barely.

From their Facebook page:

"The annual Wahsatch Steeplechase is a sacred ritual in celebration of Summer Solstice. The unique and hazardous nature of the race course includes raging streams at full flood, wicked sagebrush, poisonous snakes and precipitous crags."

You want to sign up now, right?

THE DAY BEFORE

The day before the race I laid low. I wanted my body rested and well fed.

Breakfast: Smoothie with mango, banana, strawberries, kefir, honey, ground flax, chia seeds, almonds, coconut oil.

Snack: Trail mix

Lunch: Zucchini Fritters with a spinach salad. I'll get a photo of these and a "recipe" posted sometime...I LOVE them, and they are super easy. Shredded zucchini +garbanzo beans+goat cheese+onion+cilantro+lemon+egg+breadcrumbs or oats as a binder. Sautéed in some garlic olive oil.

Naptime: I knew I wouldn't be sleeping very well (nerves), and I also had to get up at 4am (4AM!!!) so I took a little nap.

Snack: apple+cheese

Dinner: I usually go meatless pre-race but I was really craving a little bit of chicken. We had stir fried veggies (carrots, broccoli, peppers, broccoli greens, squash) and just a few pieces of chicken in mine, over a wild rice blend. (I'll post a photo/recipe of this Friday)

I had a Nuun to drink after dinner.

Stretched and held a few yoga poses--downdog to stretch my calves, pigeon and fire log pose for my hips, headstand for my mind.

lots of water all day.

A RESTLESS NIGHT OF "SLEEP"

self explanatory.

THE MORNING FUEL

4am. It was 80°

Whole wheat english muffin with peanut butter, honey, and chia seeds, and a tall glass of orange juice.

lots of water.

45 minutes before: banana. nuun. ibuprofen (my mouth was still sore from surgery, and I wasn't really sure how it was going to react.....)

15 minutes before: GU

GEAR

I wore my very favorite shorts in the entire world. If you like your shorts shorrrrt and super light, then you most definitely want The North Face Better Than Naked shorts. I LOVE them. (these aren't on their website any more--so if you can find them somewhere grab them before they are gone!)

North Face did not pay me to say such wonderful things, but hey North Face, I will take stuff from you any day.

I borrowed an Ultraspire hydration pack from my friend Tanae and I LOVED it. It was light and comfortable (no bouncing or rubbing), and the pockets in the front were perfect for all my stuff. 

I need to get one-it was perfect.

I wore my Brooks Cascadia 7s which I have been super happy with the last two months.

During the race I fueled with:

EFS, GU, Nuun, lots of water

AND SO IT BEGINS

6am

3.2.1. HERE WE GO! I was so excited I was able to do this race. We started out on the road-a nice gradual hill--it felt so good to be running again-that two week hiatus was tough. Thanks to my last two races I had my nerves a bit more under control, and I could ease into the start. We ran for about a mile on the road and headed on to the trail (yippee!)

From here we started to climb. Ups and downs. Nice roller coaster hills. Some running. Some hiking. Some in between. I quickly found myself with a really comfortable group to run with. Their pace was great and I didn't feel like I was pushing too much (if you are just tuning in, I had my wisdom teeth out two weeks prior to this race (smart, right?) and I got a lot more sick than I had planned on, and basically didn't train, or even move, AT ALL for two weeks). I wanted to make sure I had energy all the way to the end, so I made sure not to push too much on the uphill. 

I knew I could let loose on the down.

We continued winding up and around hills, through meadows of yellow wild flowers. The sun was coming up over the mountains and bathing the hills in gold.

I LOVE THIS!

Then we ran RIGHT into the sun.

Blinding orange light.

It was tricky--the sun was so bright in my eyes, but it was still early--shadows stretched across the trail and the contrast of the darkness and light made it hard to see where to step.

It also made it hard to see the GIANT MOUNTAIN that was looming in the distance.

I knew we had a big climb coming up (even though we were gradually climbing the entire time, I knew were in for a much bigger treat.)

I remember hiking up a pretty steep part of a hill, thinking to myself, 

"I'm sure it won't be much steeper than this"

ha. haha. ha.

For a second the sun ducked behind the hill. Except that it wasn't a hill I was about to climb. 

It was Little Black Mountain......and it was not little.

"Surely that can't be where we are going", I thought.

From behind me, I heard a word my mom taught me not to say.

So yeah, that's where we were going.

I could see the leaders of the race--little dots on the mountainside slowly making their way up.

I looked behind me to a steady trail of runners--all wondering the same thing....

what the......

CLIMBING

We started to climb.

and climb and climb and climb.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any steeper.......it did.

Then a teeny tiny break of some downhill (or was it just flat and felt like some downhill?) I forced my legs to run so they could stretch out.

Back to climbing.....somehow, even steeper than before.

BACKTRACK

In my last two races my calves have cramped up near the end of the race. Both times it happened right after a steep climb switched over into a steep downhill. Both times were extremely painful but I was able to shake them off and finish the races with no problem. I figured it must have been dehydration, and made sure that for THIS race I would be fully hydrated with plenty of electrolyte replenishment.

WAIT- WE ARE STILL CLIMBING

As the hill got steeper, I felt my calves start to cramp. It wasn't terrible--it was always the downhill that made it hard. I marched on. And then my quads started. I looked down, and right above my knees, on the inside of my quads it looked like I had a bouncy ball under the skin of each leg.

Knots.

oh.

I rubbed them out as we hiked and hiked and hiked. It didn't make sense.....I was fully hydrated, and had already taken a few shots of EFS. I should have been fine.

The pain was managable so I tried to focus on getting up. How steep was this hill you ask? Well, had I stood up straight I would have fallen down backwards. No joke. I have never been on such a steep hill IN MY LIFE. I was almost hilarious. Almost.

More words my mom told me not to say, escaping mouths on all sides of me.

A guy puking. 

And then......finally.....

THE TOP

thank you thank you thank you to greg norrander for this shot!! check out more of his work from the race here and his blog here

(as you can see it was a bit windy)

This is why I signed up for this race. The Crags. Sharp jagged rocks reaching up out of the earth that we get to run along, climb over, swing down off of, jump off of......all along the ridge. One slip and you'll fall one bazillion feet to sudden agonizing death. (well.....maybe you'd fall and break your leg or crack your head, but I like to exaggerate to seem hardcore.).

So. Much. Fun. I only wish it had lasted longer, but as much as I wanted to stay and play, we had to begin....

THE DESCENT part 1

The first mile or so of the downhill was just hillarious. So so so very steep. Rocks to go over. Roots reaching up and grabbing at my ankles. Powdery, slippery dirt flying out from underneath my feet. I'm not ashamed to admit that it brought me down hard.... BOOM! Hello tailbone. I sat in a dust cloud. Tiny little steps shuffling my way down, careful not to fall again.

THE DESCENT part 2

Running downhill is my absolute favorite thing. I have slowly started to learn the art of letting gravity take over and allowing my body to flail mostly out of control (yet somehow still in control) down the side of a mountain. It feels wonderful. My legs were so happy to finally stretch out and move, and for a few blissful miles my knotted calves and quads eased up. I had this.

THE FINAL DESCENT (that lasted forever)

As the trail down became less steep, I really started to feel my legs again. I had finished my EFS, and had kept up on GU every 30 minutes or so. I was keeping plenty hydrated with Nuun in my backpack, and filling up a small water bottle with water at the aid stations. Yet the knots continued to grow and grow. It felt like my tiny calf muscles were actually giving birth to more calf muscles (I wish). It was terrible. I focused on the trail. I knew I would finish--there was never a doubt. I just really wished the pain would ease up a little bit. I tried a longer stride. Shorter stride. Rolling through my step the whole way to try and stretch out my calf. A few times it got so bad I actually had to stop and massage the knots out. I still had miles to go.

FRUSTRATION

I wasn't prepared for this.

I WAS prepared for some kind of mental block. This race was harder, steeper, and longer than any other race I'd done. I spent two weeks sick right before. I just assumed my brain would start to do some crazy things, or hit some kind of wall. Hallucinations! anything but this.

I WAS prepared to feel tired in my hip flexors (always where I tire first).

I WAS prepared to feel  heavy and slow. Even exhausted maybe.

But all these things were fine.

Everything else felt great.

Except for these stupid, stupid knots in my legs.

My pace kept getting slower.

slower.

slower.

I PUSHED.

Nothing.

I got in to The Zone. I just had to get through it. My time would be lousy, but I had to get through it.

I don't listen to music when I run, but Young the Giant's "My Body" was blaring in my head.

While I'm pretty sure they aren't talking about running, it was absolutely perfect.

"My body tells me no. But I won't quit, 'cause I want more. I want more."

I won't quit.

1 MILE

1 mile to go. I don't think I have ever experienced this kind of pain. My legs just weren't working right. Something was wrong. Quads. Calves. Even my feet started having muscle spasms. A girl caught up to me, she gave me a few words of encouragement (I was obviously about to die), and I MADE myself keep pace with her. I pushed and pushed. I tried not to be angry with the fact that I would have normally ran this section at about 3 minutes per mile faster.

I was crawling.

1/2 MILE TO GO

I kept up with her.

But not for long.

Without any warning both legs seized. My feet spasmed so hard that they literally curled in my shoes. My calves and quads were so knotted and heavy they buckled beneath me.

Man down.

Have you seen the videos of people coming in for a marathon or ironman finish and they fall RIGHT before the finish line and have to crawl across?

That was me.

Legs done.

I fell. Frustrated. Everything totally out of my control.

I stood up. After one step, I fell.

Down.

My legs. They wouldn't go. They were not my own.

For a moment I panicked. A quick moment of doubt that "what if I couldn't finish".

You know it's bad when the sweetest lady somewhere in her seventies with a cute white bob, is out for her morning jog, and stops to ask if "honey, are you ok?"

"I'm ok. I'm almost done"

I sat and rubbed my knotted legs. They loosened--a little bit--but enough.

I stood. Wobbled. Walked. Slow.

Half a mile. Half a mile. Half a mile.

I started to jog. "I have to finish"

I passed the white haired jogger.

I passed a few runners.

Legs burning. Tight. When am I done? Knots. Spasms. It's all I could think about. Spasms. Knots.

Another runner caught up with me. We talked. She was ready to be done. She was an Ironman athlete. I had just hit the furthest distance I had ever ran. But we both needed someone to run with.

"I have to keep up with you or I won't finish".

"Let's finish together." With those words, she saved me.

I was somehow able to match her stride. She was tall. I was not.

Pushing pushing.

My feet started to spasm again.

Pushing.

almost

to

the

finish.

done. 

 

RESULTS

I went into this race without any goals or expectations--I was very happy that I could do it, considering just one week before I didn't know if I'd be able to participate at all. That being said, I am always a little bit hard on myself, and it's hard knowing that I could have done so much better. 

I wanted to fly.

That's what next year is for.......right?

MILES: 17

ELEVATION GAIN: 4500ft up!! (and then all of that back down again!)

TIME 3:39

18/65 women.

148/262 overall.

POSTRACE: 

I sat with my legs in the icy cold creek.

aaaaahhhhhh.

But just during the short car ride home they quickly became immobile. I stretched and stretched and attempted a downward dog. No luck.

They were pretty broken.

I wasn't that hungry right away, but I knew I needed to eat something so I had a little leftover stir-fry from the night before.

I took a hefty dose of IBU profin, put some ice on my chicken legs, and woke up from a little nap STARVING.

So Settebello it was.

I felt like I deserved some kind of amazing treat but my body was too tired to make anything 

(what?! no treat!? absurd)

IN CONCLUSION

After lots of Googling and other such research, I am wondering if my cramping and knots and spasms were a result of my body being low on sodium. Everyone sweats just a little bit different, and while most people are fine replenishing their salts with gels and sports drinks, some people actually take salt tablets for long runs. I'm also curious about compression socks. Has anyone had experience with any of this? Salt? socks? anything? I am absolutely terrified of it happening again, and want to be prepared next time. Yes,  next time.

As crazy as it all was, I would do it again. The course really was awesome, and the runners I was with were so friendly and encouraging. 

Everyone helping each other out along the way--this is why I LOVE to race! 

Who's with me next year?

ketchup

How are you? We haven't been talking so much lately.....have we? 

This is a power packed post......so much to catch up on.

Starting with:

I am now married to an MBA graduate. IT'S TRUE!!! He did it! We did it!

 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This weekend was graduation and it was an amazing feeling knowing that we made it through this crazy time in our lives. He still has three weeks of school left (uuuhhh....kind of a buzz kill, right?) but I am almost done with this whole single-mother thing.....yippee!!!

We even got to go on a graduation weekend date.....bonus!

 

and here is my haggard family after a 17 hour long ceremony.

 

I have a five year old. FIVE!!! How do babies grow up and turn five? It should be illegal.

Her cake was chocolate cake layered with whip cream, chocolate buttercream, and strawberries. 

(basically this cake)

(last year's ruffly cake here)

I ran the Timpanogos Trail Half last weekend (which actually clocked in for me at 13.7 miles)  

I ran it last year, and apparently I forgot how insanely steep sections of that trail are.....like, straight up. OH. THE. BURN. calves. quads. buns. all on fire. this race pooped me out, but it was a great run. The UP was exhausting, but I pushed and pushed and pushed and felt strong all the way dooooowwwwn the giant mountain. 

My kids chased me through the finish line and then we all collapsed.

I wore the boy's camelbak, and while it was't 100% ideal for me (I would like wider straps, a bottom strap, and pockets on the straps).....it actually worked out ok. 

I ended up getting 4th place for women (only 39 women in the race), and while the course was beautiful....to be completely honest, I left wanting a little more. Everyone in this race was so quiet. No one really talked during the race, or even after. Everyone really kept to themselves, which was so different than last month's race in Moab, where I felt like we were all a team. So my advice to you if you are out on the trails--say hello! Tell someone they are doing an awesome job. 

You are all in it together, so why not make a party out of it?

after:

 

Speaking of running, my Saturday (early early) morning run looked like this:

 

AMAZING! We climbed up 4000ft. 

as much as I love to sleep in, early early morning runs are the best because:

-sunrise

-not so many mountain bikes to run you over

-cool temps

-the rattlesnakes are still sleeping, so when you come within an inch stepping on them, (aaaAAAAaAAhHHhhhhHHh!!!!!!!) they are too lazy to sink their fangs into your chicken leg.

annnnd last, and totally least:

My wisdom teeth are coming out Thursday. 

all of them.

oh. man. 

Please tell me I will live. 

I am so bummed out because I am missing out on opening day at the farmers market this weekend.....will you go for me?

I think that's it.....well.....some if it anyway....I just found out it's already June....what?!

What have YOU been up to?

alter ego

For those who come to The Blog here for pictures and food and cuteness and such, the following post is a race report for the Amasa Back Trail race in Moab, Utah. If running is not your thing (you should try it), or you just don't like reading about races (a favorite subject of mine to read about) then here is short and sweet version:

"Running in Moab is my new favorite thing."

for the rest of you, here we go.

Sometimes I take a look over my blog and I have to laugh. It looks so......quiet. calm.

Recipes and pictures of spring. It's me.....but only part of me. 

And it's 100% opposite of what I did last weekend.

The Amasa Back Trail Race.

I can't even begin to tell you how nervous I was. So nervous in fact that the night before the race I thought about, oh...you know....just not showing up. It would give our family some extra hours of exploring in Moab. I didn't need to race. I've always been a nervous racer but this was different. 

-I haven't raced in almost a year. 

-My lyme hit me hard last fall and I had to start my running over from scratch which has been not only difficult, but FRUSTRATING! (I'm yelling there). 

-And even though the course was only 9.5 miles, I knew it was going to be the most difficult 9.5 miles I'd ever ran. "Extremely challenging" and "very technical" were thrown around a lot in the descriptions of this race.

So yeah....I was nervous.

But I somehow managed to pull myself out of bed (with absolutely no sleep of course) Saturday morning, force some bagel and peanut butter down my throat, and head to the starting line with my little  cheerleaders in tow. 

The race was friendly and small.

There were 80ish people (for the 6.5 and the 9.5 race combined) gathered around the start on a dirt road, right next to the Colorado River with giant rock towers over our heads. 

Small talk about weather and nerves and "where are you from" and soon we were

3

2

1

GO!

I have always had a bad habit of starting way too fast when I'm nervous, so I held back and sunk in to my 7:30 comfort zone for the first mile-ish down the road. I took a few minutes to take it all in.

This....was....AWSOME! I was doing it! I was so happy I didn't hide out under the covers that morning.

(note the rock in the background. that was the type of terrain I was on most of the race!)

Somewhere around a mile the group had thinned out and we headed off the road on to a..........trail...? Broken pieces of slickrock and piles of sand down down down. Jumping, leaping, whatever worked best to get down. WooooooHooooooooooo! 

This is why I signed up.

And then, just like that, we were climbing. The sun had come up and was beating down as we made our way up the orange and red rock. 

From a distance I heard something.....almost like an echo....oh wait, 

it WAS an echo. 

I heard my name. It was my family! My little cheering section--they were waaaaaaaaaaaaay across a giant gorge--tiny little bodies on a giant cliff, waving and yelling for ME. 

I rounded the corner of of sight from them, and their echos continued on as I made my way up the rocky mountain.

(does this photo looks like a Bigfoot sighting or what?) 

For those who have never ran on the trails (what are you waiting for?!) let me tell you this: It is as much of a brain workout as it is a total body workout. Yes you are working 

every.

single.

muscle. 

in your body as you twist and turn your way down the trail. 

But it really took my brain a few miles into this course to really get comfortable and just relax as it figured out the best way for ME to make it though the course. Looking ahead on the trail....but not too far ahead. Glancing up every now and then to look for course markers and easier paths that lead up, down, and over obstacles.

I was really feeling good around the 4-5 mile mark. 

So good in fact that in my blissful state of pure complete happiness and content, I followed the runners in front of me right onto the 6.5 mile turn off.

WHOOOOOOPS.

A couple minutes on that trail and I realized my mistake.

Oh dear. 

At least let's pretend that was my thought.

I turned around as fast as I could and booked it (well, as much as you can "book it" when you're headed up more hill) to make up for lost time.

The next few miles of the race kind of blur together in my brain (it was working hard, remember). 

All I do remember is that they were absolutely wonderful miles (ok wonderful, mixed with steep). This is the first race EVER that there hasn't been a section of it that I absolutely hated. Even races I love in the end, there are always parts where I wonder why I'm out running and not at home in bed, or baking cookies, or just doing anything that isn't running. If you are a runner, I know you have felt this way in a race before....right? It's hard! Yet we always come back for more. 

I kept waiting to hate something about this race, and it never came. I specifically remember a steep downhill right on the rock. No trail really--just running down down down this massive piece of earth. I was moving fast. Small quick steps over the smooth surface. Faster, faster. There was a physical feeling of happiness with each step I took and as I connected with the ground below. 

Just me, this rock, and no distractions. 

I love this.

I felt so comfortable, so happy, and at the risk of sounding 110% ridiculously cheesy.....felt so alive. 

I mean.....I was flailing down the side of a towering orange mountain made of solid rock ....you really can't get much more alive than that.

More ups and downs over the slickrock. Watching the miles tick away on my watch and not wanting the race to end......slow down! It was all going by too fast. The final descent was a teeny little trail right on the edge of a massive cliff with the mighty river below. Had I not been so high on life at the moment, I might have been a little bit nervous about how far above the ground I was. Switchbacks down down down. Over more broken rock making my way to the bottom. I could see the finish. 

Hear the cheers. 

Across a barely-there creek and I was done.

And ready for more.

Notes: 

time: 1 hr 42 minutes for 9.9 miles.....haha next time I'll pay better attention to the course so I don't run .4 extra miles.

place: 3rd overall of women. yay for small races!
elevation: 1841 ft gain

thankful I:  ran/jumped stadium stairs a few times before this race! There was SOOOO much jumping involved, and the smooth trails I run on didn't really prep me for that. 

favorite part: every moment of running on the rock. This was a first for me and I can't wait to get back and do it some more.

still aching: my calves. I don't actually have calf muscles in my chicken legs, so let's hope maybe they grew a bit after this race. 

wish I would have: drank more. My legs cramped up in the last mile--I know it's because I hardly drank anything. I have always liked my fuel belt but this terrain was too bumpy to get the bottle in and out easily, so I just didn't (smart, I know). Anyone have a recommendation for a favorite hydration product?

special thanks to: my own personal race photographer. my own personal cheering squad. 

myself for not chickening out.

the bottom line: I really, really, really really loved this race. 

Anyone have races coming up? What are you running? 

I can't wait to get out and do it all over again.

edited to add: lots of running questions coming up here. Check out these two posts
Running 101
Running 201
I've changed alot about my running since I wrote these posts-I mostly run trails now, don't listen to alot of music, etc....but the basics are all there. And be sure to read all the comments--lots of helpful tips!


more moab on the blog tomorrow!

the day I ran up the mountain

aka: possibly the longest post to ever be posted. Does blogger have a word limit?

disclaimer: I love to read other runners race day stories.....because I run. If running is not your thing, and you do not care for all the details, here is the short version:

I ran up a mountain. It was hard. It was awesome. It was gorgeous. My legs burned. I finished. I want to do it again. soon.

I don't know where to begin with this one. I wish I could have filmed the entire thing--from nervous start to wonderful finish, with each slip in the mud, and sip of water in between. But you'll just have to take a peek at all of my mental notes.

Saturday I ran the Timpanogos Trail 1/2 Marathon. 

While not my first race, it was my first trail race.....and I was nervous. SO NERVOUS!! There were so many unknowns--and all those unknowns would be taking place  somewhere on top of a mountain, most likely by myself. What if I fell? How long would it take me--I had never run over 2 hours in my life. What if I didn't like it? What if everyone passed me, and left me to finish last? What if I just couldn't do it....then what?? Should I lie down on a rock and wait for vultures to take me away??

 I didn't know, and it scared me.

the elevation map.

I eagerly bounced out of bed early Saturday morning, in a quiet, sunlit house, ate my breakfast while I studied the elevation chart one last time, and headed down to the start.

Shoes laced, chapstick applied, a trip to the bathroom (because heaven forbid I have to use a bush!) and a few quick stretches and I was ready to go. I think.

water. check.

gatorade. check.

gu. check.

watch. check.

ipod--oh wait--I'm not racing with music. that was a first. a nervous first.

Exactly 100 other runners + myself, headed up to the start.

"Any questions??" the race director asked......and....

"GO!"

And they're off! I'm off!

Go slow. Slow. Slow. "Pace yourself"-- I repeated over and over in my head. I have a bad habit of starting much too quickly for my own good, and since I had no idea what was waiting for me over the next bend of the mountain (literally), I forced myself into a comfortable pace that would allow me to save some energy for later....you know, so I wouldn't die, and stuff.

We ran right into the sun. I inhaled. Exhaled. I'M DOING IT!! This was it! I was so happy--I had been staring down this race and talking about it/worrying over it since February. It was finally happening!

We made our way up a fire road, and then took a steep turn to go up. Up up up and into a beautiful meadow that looked straight up at Mt. Timpanogos. A perfectly placed single lane trail right through the middle of the small valley--tall green grass brushing up against my legs and campers gathered around their morning fire, waving at the runners. I took as many notes as I could, wishing I had a little camera on me.

Our first short, steep climbs.

My first walk. 

Well.....I guess it can't really be called just plain old "walking". 

ha! 

I have never walked in a race--I'm much to hard on myself, but I knew going in that this would be different than a road race.  I knew there would be some hiking involved. I thought my legs would get tired, and I would say, "ok legs, let's take a short walking break". 

What I didn't realize was that there were parts--steep parts--where my legs would 

just.

stop.

running.

Impossible to do so. Energy wasted on the up and down motion of running.

It was like instinct took over (are people born with natural trail running instinct? ha! who knows?!) 

I got down low in my [scrawny, very un-mountain-woman] legs and propelled myself up with exaggerated, but much needed, force.

And then back to running.

Another fire road.

HILARIOUS!!

Why? 

Mud. 

Ev-er-y-where. 

Not mud like I was used to running in.....it was some kind of mutant cousin, surely mixed with paste. It had rained the entire week--rained and rained and rained, right up until a few hours before the race began. I ran along laughing--by myself--trying to place every step carefully so I didn't take a spill. It slopped and sprayed and reached up, threatening to steal my shoes off my feet. It licked and lapped up the back of my legs, my back, up into my birds-nest hair. The ground was sliding beneath me, and it took every muscle in my body to keep myself upright.

And this went on and on. and on. Around a big bend, some fast fun downhill, and finally! Back to single track. Some more crazy ups followed by sharp downs.

I'm doing it!! 

I kept cheering myself on. Mostly inside, but sometimes as I  would hit the top, and adjust my stride to the downhill pace a "Whooooooooo hooooooo!" escaped my lips. It felt good.

I thought I had a handle on things. I was doing it! Yes it was hard, but all very doable. I don't have a fancy schmancy watch to track my milage, so I had no idea what mile I was at--I was just trying to enjoy all of it.

And then.

dun dun DUUUUN!!!!

The Stairs. 

Yes, there were stairs in this race--let me just warn you, in case you decide to do it. I never thought a staircase would give me so much trouble. Giant railroad ties, packed into the dirt, rising a foot, sometimes more out of the steep, uphill ground. After only a few, my legs were dooooone.

They were screaming at me. I pushed up on the step, as hard as I could--walked to the next, and did it over again. Trying not to look up at how many more there were.

"Why are we DOING this?!!" I heard the man in front of me yell.

I met hikers on their way dowwwwwn, offering encouraging words. 

Down seemed really nice right about now.

Down.

I knew I would eventually get to go down. But I had to make it up first.

I continually had to remind myself of my reward that would someday come.

FINAlLY!! The Stairs were over. But the mountain was not.

Oh no.

This is where The Mountain actually began. 

Hiking. 

Pushing off my [chicken] legs, pulling myself up an imaginary rope with my arms.

If it leveled out at all--even for ten steps--I forced my legs to run. 

My legs didn't want to run. 

They were jello. 

But I had to shake out the "burn", and I would say this--"shake out the burn".

Keep in mind I had no music on --a race first for me, and no Charly to talk to, so I took up talking to myself.

oh well.

I was guessing I was somewhere around 8 miles-ish. I knew I still had quite a bit of uphill to conquer.

Up up up.

I was feeling things in my legs I have never felt. New muscles were being born at that very moment!

"At that root I will run to that rock"

"At that tree I will run to that tree"

And so it went.

And then I was at the top!!

Oh but I wasn't.

"Does it just go on forever??!" I heard a voice behind me.

It was a moment like this that I had been so afraid of before the race had even started. What if I couldn't do it? If there was ever a time to think that, it was probably now. My legs were burning. 

My buns......OH MY BUNS.

But I knew I could do it. 

I never once doubted. I continued the push and pull. I synchronized my breath with the crunch of the ground beneath me. 

I was so thankful not to have distracting music blaring in my ears.

 I loved taking everything in--with all of my senses.

The mountain was picture perfect. 

The air fresh and clean--not to hot or too cold. 

I could taste salt from my body, and hear myself working to get up. 

Feel every part of my body working--for me.

A bit of a jog to shake out my legs and then back to pushing. The trees started to clear.

Don't celebrate yet. 

Run. Jog. Ouch. Placing each step carefully.

Hike. Hike. Run. Hike.

I made it.

Over the edge, I could see the general (down!) direction where the finish line waited. 

A little over two miles to go. I've got this.

Down down down. My body begged to fly. I tried to slow myself--I had never run down a trail so rocky and steep, and after having come so far I didn't want to end up a pile of twisted limbs crying in the bushes. I made a mental note to myself "practice running downhill", so I'd be ready for next time.

Next time.

I was already planning it.

Down down down I went. Limbs flailing, body tired, but willing to keep going.

My feet hit the fire road--I was almost done.

Down down down. I felt a surge of energy and let it have its way and take me to the end.

Right before I made it to the finish--I saw my family--my kids were cheering! Anyone who's run a race knows that this is the BEST part of it--seeing your little ones cheer you on. I could have continued on for miles with their support.

I.

was.

done.

!!!

The race volunteer scanned my number and for the first time I stopped. Legs steady. I juuuuust about tipped over. My legs were jelly, and felt unattached to the rest of my body. 

But they did it. 

I hurried over to celebrate with my family.

First race done.

Relieved. Exhausted. Excited. 

Ready for more. 

Who's with me next time??