Six More Week of Winter

Breaking news!! 6 more weeks of winter...damn groundhog.

Okay - that means zilch to us desert dwellers. However, it means a bunch to me. My right foot is currently "under construction." So that means, six more weeks of winter.

Hey, but I've got a plan...

Remember last blog, where I basically said I was going to make Lake Sonoma my bitch? Well, plans change. Upon seeing Dr. Dean, he gave me the diagnosis  - torn ligament=bootcity. So, I won't be ready to make anything my bitch by April 12th. But we talked Western States, and he said *if I heal well, it should be no problem.

I know, I know...ifs. But, I'm holding on to hope. In the meantime here's the plan:

• Rest
• Do as much core, upper body, etc as I'm allowed
• Get some writing and schoolwork done 
• Spend some much needed time with the man and the family
• Eat veggies like a champ
• Learn Minecraft with Alexander
• Heal
• Mental training

So that's what I got. Let's go, life

Anger

Last week, I watched my son get pelted in the face with a soccer ball. He came off the field crying, and like any good mother :), I urged him to get back out there and keep trying. I quelled the urge to coddle. He was fine; he needed the experience of "suck it up."

Huntsville, TX. 6am the start goes off. "Man I am ready for this," I think. I quickly find my new teammate Connie, and we introduced ourself in the first 10 minutes. She started giving me some advice, saying that "these roots don't seem like they are here now, but they'll be here in the last two laps. Just make sure to pick up your feet." I tell her, "thanks! I've actually got pretty strong ankles. I can turn an ankle pretty severely and keep going." Just like that the first mile clicks off, and I feel like a loaded gun. Someone finally let me out. This is the first race in probably a year that I've showed up healthy, trained, and ready - 100%, 

Alexander runs over to the other side of the field and grabs a drink, and his coach also tries to get him back on the field. I can see the exchange, and Alexander seems to have a ton of adrenaline. Still, he tells the coach "No, I don't want to play anymore. I don't want to get hit in the face." Then just 30 second later, something happens, and he's out on the field. The coach didn't even notice it at first, and they scrambled to shift the fielding around. Alexander is out there being aggressive - the kid who 20 minutes before would back up from the ball is going after it.

As I run, I'm playing it conservatively, but god, I'm wondering, where Pam, Michele, and Kaci are at - this is my day. I take a stride and POP. That's my ankle. I try to keep going, but it's painful. I get all sweaty and sick to my stomach a bit. I pull over to try to address it, and I quickly decide I need to keep moving - blood flow, right. My gait is noticeably changed, and I'm favoring one side. Every .10 miles I stop off to check back it, but it keeps getting worse. I don't even think about quitting. I keep inching along. 100 miles is a long way, I can recover. Except that I can't. My day is done. I know it, but I'm not ready to accept it. I continue on slowly for .50 miles, and then I stop and accept defeat. 

After the game, I run up to Alexander, and I tell him how proud I am. I explain that his determination was awesome. Then he looks at me and says, "Mom, soccer is really good anger management. I just put everything I had into the kicking that ball after I got hit in the face." The mom in me corrected the anger concept, I mean I'm not sure I'm comfortable with my 8-year old saying anger is okay. Then again, I know he's right. He had teammates were violently pushing each other and kicking the ball out, but he took his anger and respectfully used it to play more aggressively.

Anger. That's what I feel as I hobble back to the start. I wanted this so badly. I didn't cry or sob - that's my normal way of dealing. I just felt angry. I yelled some choice words into the woods. As I reached the start, I tapped on the car window, startling John and showing him my ankle. As we drove back to the start, I didn't wonder "why me," my anger is doing something else to me. I refuse to be the victim of circumstance. 

This weekend, I didn't sulk (I mean I did watch movies and eat candy) - I didn't stew in my defeat or my failure. My anger grew into drive, and I thought about the next target. 

So, Lake Sonoma 50m, I'm coming for you...

Ode to a Running Partner

Dear Diesel,

We had you for 9.5 years. You left us much too soon. One special bond we shared was that of being running partners. Before we started running together, I'd watch owners jog with their dogs out of duty - running for the dog. And, sure, it's popular wisdom that tired dogs are better dogs. Those runs were as much for me as they were for you. During the course of a run we bonded, fought, shouted together (okay you barked), proudly floated on pavement (an yes, you had the best "prance"). And sometimes, just for fun, you'd pee on my shoes at stop lights while I was distracted.

We started by hiking with you. However, it became very clear that you hated the mountains. John and I once took you on a hike that resulted in us combing cactus out of your snout. Yes, this was as painful for us as it was for you. And we walked you, but the walks were about John and I (or John, Alexander, and I). We'd watch you at the dog park, but still that was something different.

You, Jessie, and I would take off from our house, and I could feel the energy between us. Most of the time we'd run at night, after we'd both had long days - okay your days were full of sleeping. You'd race from the house like a horse out of the gates. At times, you weren't the most obedient. You'd want to stop when I didn't. You'd decide that you needed to growl at another dog. And sure, it was frustrating. Sometimes, I'd take you running out of duty, and we'd spend the first mile fighting. I'm sure you could sense I was tired and unenthusiastic about running that evening, and I'm also sure that was the precise reason you decided to test me. After the first mile or so, we'd get synced up. Our strides seemed effortless, and I'd look down and see you, head held high, proud to be a dog running.

You enjoyed being part of our little running group - Jessie, you and I. You had to be just a little be in front of her and always on her right side. This formation felt so normal. As the years progressed, Jessie slowed down, and we'd have to go alone for a couple of miles and swing back to pick her up.

Just before Thanksgiving, I remember coming home after a run with you and telling John "Diesel's gonna be alive for ever." That day, you and I ran 7 miles at sub 8-minute pace, and you didn't miss a step. You came home, panted for a couple minutes, and proceeded on with your day as if nothing happened. I was sure we'd have you in our family forever.

As December grew on, I noticed you getting smaller and skinner. Despite your protests, I didn't run you as far or as fast. We stuck to short jogs and dog park visits. I thought maybe you needed less exercise and more food. I fed you as much as I could.

On New Year's Day, Alexander woke us up exclaiming, "Mom Diesel's got a lot of throw up in the yard." I jumped out of bed, looking for you found you shaking under the bed. That was very unlike you; you were a people person, a snuggler, an attention whore. I held you, knowing that something was really wrong. Alexander and I spent about an hour just holding you, waiting for Grandma Rhonda to come get Alexander, so I could take you to the emergency vet. From there the day went drastically downhill.

Of all the things I miss about you, the thing I miss most is my running partner. I get to go on big, adventurous runs through the mountains with fun, interesting people, but Diesel, running with you was the highlight of my day. For that short 30-60 minutes, we were together - with nothing else to get in the way. We didn't traverse mountains or run for hours at a time, but we bonded in a way that I'm having a hard time explaining. When we returned to the house, I felt satisfied, not because I ran my dog, but because I ran with my dog, side-by-side.

Thanks for the memories Diesel. I will miss our runs, but I have an erie feeling that you're still right by my side as I jog along.

The Tale of My Spring and Summer

This year has been a whirlwind - to say the least. Life has "just happened," and I didn't get much of a chance to document it.

Let's see. My spring was wrecked with a reoccurrence of mono (re: extremely dizzy in mile 8 of zane grey 50. re: I've never dropped from a race at mile 8 before).

(Photo by Megan Powers Galope)

So, I spent the summer in self doubt, questioning my ability as a runner. Note: this really isn't the way to go into a hard 100k (Waldo) and turn around two weeks later into an even harder 100 miler. But I pulled myself up by my bootstraps, ended all pity parties, and began my 100-mile, 100-degree summer training. 

Just when the heat was getting to me, I got the opportunity to spend a week up in Flagstaff for the Adidas XC Camp. The week was truly awesome. On any given day, as a mom and partner, my days are spent fitting running in (between meals, pick-up, quality time), and that week was all about running. I struggled up at altitude but found my groove towards the end of the week. 

(we even had a spectator trip to the Grand Canyon at the XC Camp)

Then, once again, a bump in the road. Tendinitis. Ugh. I took two weeks off running. Two weeks at a time when I should have been ramping up for Waldo in a big way. Two weeks that I couldn't afford. Two weeks. 

So it was time for plan B. I was still going to try to give Waldo my everything, but I had to be honest with myself - I wasn't ready. So, my new goal was to give everything I had at Waldo, and use it as a good training run for Wasatch. 

Waldo weekend was awesome. We traveled with the Danek's. We stayed in a pretty cabin next to the lake about 10 minutes from the start. 

The race was beautiful. It was one of the most scenic and awesome races I've ever done - and let's not kid ourselves, I'm not traveling over to Europe every other day, but still. I hung on to third all day - fairly far from first and second. Towards the end I started having nutritional issues (i.e. not being able to pee), but I took care of myself and got back on track to run hard at the end. 

Was I happy with the race. Yes. Considering I ran all of 40 miles in three weeks before the race, I was immensely happy. Could I have done better? Absolutely. I want to go back to Waldo and have a better race. Besides - who wouldn't want to hang by the lake for their pre-race meal. 

Now back onto the beast of Wasatch. It's a bitch. The last 25 miles are hard as hell, and in the 2.5 weeks between Waldo and Wasatch, I was working on recovering. Wasatch is all guts, and I was all in. 

Sabrina and I made the drive up Wednesday night, and rolled into SLC on Thursday morning. I got some much needed sleep Thursday, and we rolled into the start. 

The race was hot - highs of like 85-90. I knew I could work with this. The beginning 30-40 miles I spent conserving my energy. When I entered the "canyons," I started to work hard. I passed a bunch of people and managed to get myself into 2nd female. Then it hit - I overworked myself. Heat+Altitude=Suckfest. I put myself in a hole and a deficit. 

So, I think I was down about 7 pounds at Lamb's. Great. I walked out of Lamb's and took it easy for a while - really hoping to get up on calories and nutrition. Although in hindsight, I should have really tried to push it - the last 25 are slow and hard. When I hit Brighton, I fueled up and headed up. I was still in 2nd. Then, on the climb up, some woman blasted up the climb in front of me, talking, laughing, in great spirits. This was not me. I was trying - trying to turn myself around, but it was tough. In the last 25 miles, I had some moments. I couldn't see, I couldn't catch my footing, I couldn't catch the woman in front of me. Dang. I'm glad I had James with me. 

As we turned unto the last 6 miles, I was amazed. I was doing this, and I was doing this about 3 hours faster than last year. The road turned smooth, and after and slight uphill we cruised downhill. However, I was being chased, so I cruised faster. We clicked off miles at what seemed like sub 7 pace (Although it was probably more like sub 10). I finished. 3rd woman and felt wrecked. Run Wasatch and watch that race tear you inside out. 

The end of September came, and I got to marry this handsome guy:

A week later, I had a minor surgery (silly ovarian cysts), and I was out of running for two weeks. Sometimes I'd wake up with a dog on my face. But I did get to watch Breaking Bad from start to finish. Win. 

Now I am ramping my miles up - slowly, but surely. I am in the throws of November - which for a grad student and teacher mean the throws of hell, but I'm running consistently. I'm looking forward to the Rocky Raccoon 100 - where I'll try to qualify for Western and PR my 100 miler (which is currently 23:47 and was at the AC 100). 

And that, my friends, is the story of my long Spring and Summer. 

Old Pueblo 50M

Two weeks later.

After Moab, I basically wanted to crawl in a hole. Starting the year is tough, and at some point I'm going to have to accept the fact that I've been doing alot of stuff. However, I'm still maintaining that busy is my constant, happy state of life.

I went to work on the Friday before Old Pueblo very anxious. I wanted to race. In fact, I love to race. It's when a switch flips in my head from slogging along to "game time" that I get all giddy and excited, especially for a 50 miler.

Last year, I committed to doing this classic Arizona race because, well, I live in Arizona. I also have strong opinions about building the strength of fast female ultra runners in Arizona (and fast ultra runners in Arizona - Hell, I pretty much don't understand why Colorado and Cali have such a stronghold on ultra running - Arizona's a magical place for trail runner - politics, not so much). So, one of my big long-term goals is to up the antie on these races for ladies. I want to put up fast times so that I'll invite healthy competition among women. Let's face it, I'm a big softie for lady ultrarunning. So that's the nuts-and-bolts of why Old Pubelo.

Now, on to the fact that I got schooled! Polly Campbell, who I saw for all of a mile of the race rocked it. I chased her ghost and ran my race, but in the end, I didn't have the gusto she did. Not to worry, though, I like second place - it gives me something to work towards!

Old Pueblo is mainly run on Jeep Roads in Southern Arizona. If you pay attention, you'll see the famed Windmill (if you blink, as most do, you'll miss it). There are some awesome views of wide open spaces.  That said, Old Pueblo isn't Zane Grey; it's not my brand of gnarly. There, I'll say it - I fulfilled my desire to race Old Pueblo.

(Photo by Lisa Kravetz) Check out these views!

My goals for the race were to run a smart, even race (and hey, there's always the whole winning thing). I started my first week of Zane Grey training on Monday, and Coach Ian advised me to not "race" OP. Psshhh...Ain't nobody got time for that! I kid, but I did listen and resolved to just run smart for a while - and hopefully turn on the heat at the end.

Running into the sunrise was awesome! I chatted up the first 7 miles with another runner, but after that, I ended up on my own. Running the first 15 miles was rather uneventful. Once I hit the downhill section, I thought "perfect" time to fly. I was running in second, but, I've learned that second isn't a "hopeless" position. I mean it can feel like this in a ultra - it's hard to tell where people are, but I resolved to just keep working hard. As I started moving downhill, I hit the ground - hard and started gagging (I hit my stomach). Luckily I didn't vomit, but my tummy wasn't happy with the tumble. I continued downhill and hit a fork in the road. No ribbons. Hmmm. I veered left, and I'm glad I did - I guessed right. I hit the aid station and headed out to the windy road - slightly unhill - headed for the big uphill.

(Photo by Lisa Kravetz)

Once I reached the big uphill - this famed, awful uphill - I decided that mental things alone are real. Wait, what? Well, everyone said these miles sucked, but I decided they were fun and I would have the time of my life. So I did. I flipped in some music and enjoyed my suffering - passing some guys in the mix. I thought I was gaining on Polly - and in the end, it was good to stay in this positive mindset because it reality, she was killing it.

(Photo by Lisa Kravetz)

I ran consistently strong uphill and through the AZ trail section, but the heat and the day were weighing on me. I forced down some calories and continued on, alone. As I approached the next aid station (appx mile 38), I fell HARD in front of 4 big guys. Imagine - poor "little girl" falls in front of macho guys. They insisted I sit at the aid station. I asked them kindly to fill my water bottles so I could be on my way. We had a little healthy banter back and forth, and I tricked them to fill my water bottles and ran off. Oops - I'm sure they weren't happy, but I thanked them. After all I had promises to keep and miles before I sleep.

The next 8 miles were blah. Alone, hot, blah. Yuck. I started to get the second place jitters. I knew I was fading, but man, I knew I needed to keep it together - someone could be right behind me. So, I ate, and ran, albeit slowly. I found a friend for a couple of miles and his chat kept me moving and upright. Once we hit the last aid station, I grabbed some coke and sped off. After all I was running scared! I moved as quickly as I could for the last couple of miles - trying to maintain my second place and gain any time that I could.

(Photo by Lisa Kravetz)

Hitting the finish line felt good. I held on to what I had and put together an okay day. It wasn't my best performance, but I had some small victories mentally. So all in all, I was happy with my day.

(Photo by Lisa Kravetz)

Big shout out to some peeps - Lori, Carson, and Carol for putting up with an extra person in their caravan. Carol for lugging some of of crap around. Sabrina, Seth, and those darn awesome kids for being there at the start and finish line (and for getting my but home). Lisa Kravetz was also amazing!! She was out there being awesome and taking pictures! Also, big huge props to Adidas - the support has helped my show up to ultras with some awesome gear and a bit of a swagger!!!!

The Moab Red Hot 55k, oh and it was (a) hot (mess).

So, basically part two of my story goes something like this: I came, I ran, I sucked. (anyone know how to say this in Ancient Greek?).

I knew the race was a giant crap shoot from the beginning. Between having mom duties for the weekend and being ill, I didn't exactly set myself up for success. Although, my motto in ultrarunning is to deal with the hand you've been given. And that's what I did.

We travelled up with Shea Tinder and Norah (a very very cute two year old). Shea was super nice, kind, amazing to watch Alexander while I ran and did all the obligatory running things. So much gratitude here.

Race morning I woke up pretty out of it. I hadn't been sleeping all week, and I just felt wrecked (and, ah-hem, feverish). Whatever though, I'm an stubborn as they come, and I opted to race. Screw it, what else was I gonna do, right?

I lined up an the start line and met some of my Adidas teammates that I hadn't had the chance to chat with before. Then all of a sudden, it was go time. From step one I felt sluggish. I tried to tuck in behind the infamous Mr. Ian Torrence, but soon everyone faded away. I sucked air uphill and my lungs were on fire. Yuck, yuck yuck.

I rolled downhill fast, trying to play catch-up, but unfortunately, that would be my day - just hanging on to what I could. When I got to the second aid station, I wanted to drop. But, that's not how Paulette 2.0 rolls. I've learned that even the bad days teach us something (was today gonna teach me that I was a dumbass for running?).

At some point, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and just ran fast. I was clocking 7 minute miles on those flatter section. In my head, I though - maybe, I'd catch someone. I passed people, making up for the time I spend sulking between miles 9-15. But my groove just didn't last.

Here's the dumb part. After rolling fast, I started feeling feverish, hot, cold chills. Basically my body went all schizo. The last 10 miles of the race was just plain awful. At one point I so hot I went shirtless, and the next second I was freezing. Just plain dumb.

So finally I rounded the corner and sailed downhill to the finish line, thinking - thank god I'm done!

Big kudos to all my teammates, Emily, Trent, James, Josh, Ian, and Brian. Those peeps brought their A-game and went big. AdiUltra represented, and it was cool to be there. I wish I could have brought more than my D- game, but soon.

The race was awesome. The views were epic, and the after party was bumping! Chris Martinez puts on a good show. A win for the ultra community!

Next up Old Pueblo 50!! Game On!!

This should be blog worthy..Racing Sick?!?

So goes my week.

Monday -
Visit desnist for tooth pain. He suggested I follow up with an Endodntist and said the words "root canal."
Visit Dr.  for a yearly physical. Blood drawn, but the nurse had a rough time finding the vein. End result, fun bruises on my arm.
fun run with BFF Sabrina in the Phoenix Mountian Preserve. It started off rainy, but oddly enough, it ended up very sunny. This weather is very kooky in phonenix right now. Clearly the highlight of my day.

Tuesday -
Visit Endontists. Emergency root canal.
Put shoes on and plan to run.
Lack of food and ammount pain derailed the run.
Call Mr. John and ask him to "pretty please" come home from work early.
Entertain said child while Mr. come home from work.
Eat mushy noodles.
Read Plato (not sure if I was coherent enough to read).

Wednesday -
Plan to run.
Decide I feel like crap.
Sit in bed and watch "spy"movies.
Go to class.
Run fever.
Come home.
Run fever.
Sleep very little. Try to read.

Thursday -
Wake up with fever
Teach class.
Visit Endonditist for follow up. All is okay, despite the fever.
Attend office hours.
Attend class.
Feveroushily pack, plan for the trip.

Friday -
Wake up feverish again.
Shop, laundry, and clean.
Work.
Pick up Alexander.
Drive to Flag.
Pick up Shea & Norah.
Drive to Utah.
Arrive at Hotel at 11pm.

So, I made the choice to run the 55k. Should be super interesting. I'm stupid, I realize this, but maybe I'll surprise myself.

The Proverbial Question

When people meet me and get to know me better, they learn of the different mes. I wear alot of hats; I run in a couple of circles.

I'm in grad school right now. It's amazing how people (instructors, other grad students, administrators) see grad students as being very, and in turn, how singular grad students present themselves as singular- notice I didn't say they they are; rather, there's a fiction many grad students create, possibly to make themselves appear professional, possibly out of fear. I once tried to keep up this fiction, but it's difficult; in fact, it's damned impossible and frankly not important. The mes start surfacing. Someone in class learns I'm a mother. Then, funny, a week later three other mothers come up to me and say, I have a son too! Odd. Why would I be hiding that I'm a mother?

(My favorite people in the world! Why would I hide these guys!!)

In another week, someone learns I have a full-time (and a part time) teaching gig (most of the grad students are funded with TA ships that give them a stipend for teaching 1-2 classes a semester). Then's they start with the "wow," how do you do it?

But, as many of you know, we haven't even gotten to the crazy part. I'm an ultra runner. I train approximately 12 hours a week and run races upwards to 100 miles. First when people learn of it, I get the script of questions that people run through when wrapping their head around the idea of ultra running. Then, people start to put it all together think I'm crazy because on top of full and part time work, full time Phd student, and raising a child (with my BF who happens to work 70+ hours a week, meaning I'm the parent on call most of the time) "in my spare time" I run lots and lots of miles over terrible terrain and often in shitty conditions (re: summer heat in Phoenix). 

Then there's the proverbial question "how do you do it all?" It's the hardest question to give a full and complete answer to. I don't have a professional nanny nor is my son's father (my boyfriend) around a ton. I have friends that can help and do (and they are AMAZING), but I try to be careful when I ask them because I hate to feel like I've overburdened friends. Family members are around, but increasingly "unavailable" on the weekends (my parents have wage-labor jobs and work on the weekends) when most people put in their long runs. Seriously too, asking someone to watch my kid while I run sounds selfish, and there's that whole mommy guilt thing that goes into even getting up the nerve to ask someone.

As far as my work, I have a great schedule. I make nothing in my job, and in turn, I get a good schedule and am blessed with the ability to take/pick-up my son from school most days. My work, however, happens beyond the classroom. I'm a college instructor, so I may only be "on campus" for 20 hours a week teaching, but as we all know, teaching doesn't stop in the classroom. Then there's that who full-time grad student thing. 

Okay, I'm already tired of reading this, and frankly it sounds like I'm whining. That's not my intention here. This is the best response I have, though when people ask me that question because my other response, when truly thinking from a logical-logistical side, is "I don't know."

 

(grey hairs just thinking about this)

This week I zeroed out three days, and I'm in full on training mode. After beating myself up with WTFs? and OMGs? and doubting myself, I had to sit back and say shit happens. Shit happens in life, shit happens in school, shit happens in work, and hey, guess what if you don't think shit happens in 100 miles, then you are lying!!

Some of the best, most resilient ultrarunners are people who are able to roll with the punches. I've yet to have a perfect race or a perfect training week, nor do I think I ever will. Obstacles come up in all races, and it shouldn't be a reason to stop or quit or even stop trying.

I guess this is where sifting through my busy life helps. Living in the moment and deciding what to to about the task at hand is a good skill to cultivate. I'm faced with decisions and obstacles everyday, and this, for me, is all a part of the ultra training. 

So instead of getting all stressed out and reciting all my life commitments when someone ask me "how do you do it all?" maybe I should just say because "I have to, and because I want to."

(and come on, regardless of what's going on, the end of a run is deeply satisfying)

 (And at the end of every rainbow (running adventure), there's always coffee!! screw pots of golf)

A traveling fool...

Well, it's that time of year - holidays, tons of student papers...and more importantly, it's been beautiful in AZ and there have been too many races for me to keep up with!! This post might be a tad rushed...

Part 1: What happens in Boulder City...

Fairly soon after the Javelina night run, I took off with the Aravaipa boys and my friend Sabrina to the Bootlegger 50K, put on by Ian Torrence and Josh Brimhall.

The trip was fun, but the race was brutal. This was my longest run since AC100, and I didn't really have my game face on. I slept in a van by the crevase and awoke in the morning feeling groggy but ready for the challenge.

That terribleness is me, climbing up one of the climbs at bootlegger. This post could also aptly be title "A string of bad pictures."

The long and the short of bootlegger goes something like this - went out "fast," was briefly passed on the second loop, contemplated how much I cared about being passed, decided I did care, resolved to run the climb hard, paid for this later when I realized I hadn't eaten anything, was very thankful to see the "Brian Tinder" aid station, ate 3 gels at once, ran hard, put hands on knees and yelled "fuck," and finished $500 and a growler of beer richer. Whew!

Bootlegger is a great race, and Ian and Josh (vets of the sport) did a bang up job with everything. No complaints on my part, except maybe I should have trained harder :). I would certainly like to return next year. I think the female Course Record is "soft." LOL!

Now we move to part two of the series, which I would like to call Pacing.

The weekend after bootlegger, the Javelina Jundred took place in the quiet hills by the fountain (i.e. Fountain Hills). I was slotted to pace ultra-studette Liza Howard, who quietly told me in an e-mail that we should go for course record. Sweet, I knew I needed to pony up and run hard.

Dang when I saw her first lap time that morning, I think the soccer mom next to me saw me quietly mouth "fuck." Oops. Yeah, I had soccer mom duties in the morning and ultra-pacing duties at night, so I was a bit concerned about how everything would play out.

I picked up Liza at mile 62, and she was in the kind of shape I expected her to be: tired, but moving right along. We didn't chat much because, well, she was focused, but I enjoyed her company. Funny, I run mostly alone, so it was a good "training run" for me, and well, I was able to help-a-sistah-out.

Liza was all business here!!

Nothing super crazy to report. Liza was even keel and just trying to get her job done, and I was there to grab a couple of cokes at the aid station. It was nice to accompany her on her journey. I was hoping to hang out with her longer after the race, but stuff happens and I'm just glad that she's doing okay.

Moving right along: Part 3: The long weekend

The following weekend, I hopped freighter to East Mesa (kidding, I just drove in my special blue, liberal, vegan mobile) to run the Pass Mountain 50. Nick and Jamil gave me bib #1, and I think they were being kind or overzealous or just crazy because somewhere in the middle of the run, I was going to reach 90 miles for the week. I hadn't tapered or rested or anything, so I was running on tired tired legs, and I felt it on the second climb.

Beautiful scenery, but another bad, bad pic - but check out those quad muscles!

I struggled on the second loop, which was totally planned :). But I managed to eek in a sub 5-hr 50k and a sick trophy.

Nick Coury and I...see I take bad pics.

Anyone notice the blood down my leg? Yeah it's my first fall in like a year...rookie mistake.

The next day, I accompanied Rachel James on her long run. She's preparing for the Tuscon marathon. Well, we ran on roads, and man, that made me very very tired, but I managed to round out to 105 miles for the week. Not too shabby for a working mom!

Bad news, good news

Over my travels, I did get some crappy news about a potential sponsor. I got my hopes up, which I shouldn't have. But it would be really really nice to not have to explain to John why I bought another pair of shoes!! LOL! I'm cute enough, right? I'm working on getting super fast...someone's got to show me love, right? I promise, I won't disappoint.

Well, I did get some good news...IM GOING TO MARIN!!! North Face Endurance Champs San Fran!! I did have to do some begging to get John to be okay with it. Afterall, it's not like anyone else is paying for me. I'm super excited to tow the line with the big wigs!!

So, whew, those are my travels for now, hopefully I have some good stories about marin!!!

Javelina 12 hours...or maybe just 2ish hours....

A couple weekends ago, I attended the Javelina 12 hour run put on by my friends at Aravaipa running. What a fantastic event. I ran it in the past. Actually, I ran my first 50 miler in 2008 when the event was just taking off.

My plans were to run between 1 & 2 laps. I knew Rachel James (Dave's wife) was gonna be there, and she wanted to run 2 laps. So, theoretically, we could run together. Would be fun, right? I was also super antzy. I hadn't raced since Angeles Crest, and while I wasn't considering this a race, I still had all those pre-race jitters. So I had all day to think about this - between house cleaning and soccer.

We arrived at McDowell Mountain Park without too much stress (sorry again for making everyone stop so I could go to the bathroom). Friend Seth and I would be running, while Sabrina and John partied it up.

(Race Director Nick Coury gives some last instructions before take-off, courtesy of Aravaipa Running)

It was light outside for about the first hour. I took off, and in the parking lot, there was Rachel. "Come on Rachel," I exclaimed, but she was filling bottles and getting ready. Hopefully she would catch me, and then we could share each other's company in the full-moon darkness.

(Man I was having fun! Photo courtesy of Aravaipa running)

I ran about the first 5-6 miles alone...then, I had a shadow. The guy behind me turned on his light and completely messed up my line of sight. I'm pretty calm, but I was having trouble seeing. I finally said something, and he rectified the situation.

A couple minutes later Jay Danek caught up with me and we chatted. Fun to catch up with him. However, I was starting think about all the times I had been out to this trail. So many races, runs, and memories. We finally reached the aid station, but my thoughts were overwhelming me.

(At the aid station, Photo Courtesy of Aravaipa Running)

I was having fun, but something was holding me back. Remember that thing people say about ultras being mostly mental? It's true. You can't fake a "good mindset," or you can...but it's got to come about and actually be a good mindset. I hung out at the aid station maybe 5 or 10 minutes (I don't know, I wasn't wearing a watch), until I forced myself to continue on.

My thoughts were filled with memories of old and new friends and moments we've shared on the Pemberton trail during various training runs and races. The Pemberton trail isn't my favorite, but I've got history here. It's the site of my first ultra, 100-miler, and 50k (I do things backwards). I've lost friends and gained friends after running here. Tears, laughter, vomit, pain, sadness, happiness...yep, I've gone through all these things here.

I wasn't in a dark mental place; I just had a lot on my mind. Sometimes that makes me want to continue running to work it out, but other times I just want to be done. That night, alone in the dark, I just wanted to finish up and sit with friends. Afterall, this is what this event is about - community, togetherness, etc. Everytime I've ever raced or ran here, the underlying reason had to do with friendships.

As I rounded the last couple of turns to the finish, I cleared my head, very confident that I was done with one lap but also very happy! At the finish, Sabrina and John were waiting, along with the numberous members of the araviapa family.

Fun, race. Fun times, and hey, I apparently "won" too. LOL!

1st place overall 25K , 2:19:16

Matazals 18 miler

YES! YES! YES! I love running, and well, trying to resume consistency between a busy life and AC 100 recovery has been tough. However, after a week of consistent training, I'm happy to report...stella's go her groove back.

The Matazals race is a fun grassroots race put on by Honey and Debbie (local ultra ladies). The race starts uphill on Jeep roads for about 9 miles (like 3k feet of gain). Then hits the famous AZ trail for 5 miles of gnarly overgrown awesomeness! The last couple of miles ends on Jeep roads. Views are amazing. Running is amazing.

Now's also my realization that I need to shed some pounds. Beer, pizza, and fried food do not boast well for the non-runners body (and, arguably, even the runners body). So it's time to lean up and train up...the mountains are calling and I MUST go!!

Future races this year include, tentatively, the Cave Creek Thriller, Pass Mountain (one of my favs), and maybe maybe the NF 50 in San Fran (which does not boast well for my "diet").

Monday: 9.5 miles of canals

Tuesday: Off

Wednesday: 10ish miles of mountains with Jamil and James

Thursday: 6 miles of canals

Friday: 12 miles of canals

Saturday: 5 miles of "dog" running

Sunday: 18 miles of sweet sweet trail running.

AC 100

Backstory

When I first started dreaming of ultra running as an onlooker (from my humble beginnings as a triathlete), I admired a friend doing Western States. It seemed cool, impossible, challenging, but not for me. I was interested in something else. Re: AC100. I sent a friend an email about it, and he kindly informed me that it was harder that WS100 - and then reminded me that I had yet to finish anything over 18 miles (Javelina Jundred 08 was my first ultra on the books). I'm never really good and leaving these types of comments alone. One sure fire way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't.

I have a confession to make, I've kind of been obsessed with Angeles Crest 100 for some time. I've read countless race reports touting the race as "low key" and "back to ultrarunning's roots." The fires in 2009 kept me out of the race, and my own inability to sign up early kept me out in 2010. I feel as though I have a connection with the race that I simply cannot explain. Driving through the Angeles Crest National Forest in 2009, and stopping in Pasadena on the way home from a long road trip left me longing for a return trip. I never got the chance to preview the course, train on the course, or even step foot on those trails until 5am on July 23rd, 2011. I was anxious.

I signed up for the race in January. Friends scolded me for not entering the WS100 lottery, claiming it would better my chances for future years. I have no clue if this is true, and I didn't care. I was ready for one California race, and my summer would be devoted to Angeles Crest 100 and my 6-year old son, Alexander.

Training went well, and without going into too much information (a girl needs her secrets, kidding), I vowed to work HARD. Hill repeats in 100-degrees, late afternoon runs in AZ summer, R2R2R, and countless trips to Flagstaff. Just as I though I was going to reach my breaking point, taper madness set in, and I went crazy, craving a long trips in the mountains. Patience...soon, I would get this opportunity.

The Race

So many AZ folks were there to race. Good friend Jamil said he would stay with me for the first 50, which was pretty cool (although, we ended up playing a game of back and forth the whole day - both too caught up in our own races to really commit to staying together).

(Jamil and I before the race)

I had the pleasure of ultra-running-stud, Dave James, as a pacer, and my own stud boyfriend, John as chief crew member.

(Dave, John, and I pre-race)

I knew I was in good hands! I had the race day jitters, knowing the day would end up being interesting. Sure, I wanted to win. I knew I had a shot, but man, 100 miles is a LONG way to worry about such crazy notions. I told myself from the beginning that I did NOT want to get myself into a race situation right away. When we took off, I was ready - ready for the day that presented itself to me, knowing that flexibility is a trait that is necessary in ultrarunning.

The run through town was awesome. I love little mountain towns. Getting up to the acorn trail was taxing, but at that point, I didn't care. I was in awe of my surroundings. I enjoyed so much of this first part that I don't remember talking to anyone in-depth or listening to music, I was just in the moment. Right before the climb up Baden-Powell, Keira Henninger approached me and exchanged kind words and a play-by-play of what was going on up front. The ladies race was brutal, and well, I didn't really want to enter it yet. I listened to what Keira said but didn't allow it to take me over. Then I watched her disappear up Baden-Powell. The climb was fun, as far as climbs go. Just nearing the top, I got a spook from Jamil. Running down Baden-Powell was one of the highlights of the day. I stayed mostly with Jamil, and we reveled in the beauty of the wilderness. As if that wasn't enough, we encountered a large group of Asian hikers that were so positive and supportive that it became infectious. Hearing "You Win" and "Good job" from 30 courteous and positive hikers left a smile on my face that just would not fade.

Dave and John were awesome with aid stations. I was in and out, quickly, which was one of my goals. Dave, who should have been sleeping, was like the bouncing tigger all day (mom reference - if you don't have kids google it). He kept reminding me that the race wouldn't begin until I picked him up at 52.

The middle of the race is kind of a blur. There were more encounters with Jamil. I got to run some miles on the road and through the canyons with Keira, which was cool. This was the second race we've done together, and it was nice to relax together. I also remember clicking off some miles with the infamous Jimmy Dean Freeman. I felt good most of the day.

Mt. Hillyer was probably a bit of a low point. It was hot, and I was in need of some encouragement, but it felt like days until I would reach John and Dave. Keira and Jamil left me in the dust, and I choose to hike slow, trying not to get too dejected. I did relatively good, but somewhere maybe 2-3 miles from the 52 mile checkpoint, my IT Band started to kill. I decided right there that my body would not dictate this race. I was ready to trash myself. I could take the rest of the year off to rest and get fat, but dammit, this was my race.

At 52, I sat down, needing my socks changed and I saw Lizzie! That was a big boost. We spent some good miles up in the mountain training, and she's a great person to see 52 miles into a race. I also got to pick up Dave, which was nice. Little did I know, I'd better have my game face on, because Dave was about to push me - time to see what I was made up.

Dave quickly got me up to speed on eating, hydrating, and getting some electrolytes. He established a schedule and helped me follow it. I watched him float down the poodledog bush ladden trails, cautioning him about the plant's danger. Funny, he said he was just about to pick some and give it to me! My IT Band was still hurting. I finally fessed up to Dave what was up. He said, IT Band issue weren't real. He said I need to eat, drink, and replenish my salt. He said this would eventually go away. And, for the most part it did. Ahh...the power of positive thinking.

It was time to race. Dave and I caught up to Maggie Beach, who I learned was in second place. It was nice to finally meet her. She was super positive an encouraging. After taking off from the aid station, we would have some rad downhill running for some time where I was able to regroup. At one point, I had to go to the bathroom, and those trail don't really have bushes to hide behind. I'm not modest, so I risked it. Soon after I was in position, I heard discerning footsteps. It was none than Jamil and Mike Carson...OMG. "Don't look," I yelled, as I laughed. John later told me a funny comment Mike said to someone that said I was pretty. Is it wrong that I find his comment completely appropriate? :)

Back to the races. When the trail started to go back up, I though, good...time for an uphill hike, but Dave was ready to put me in high gear. I, somehow, 60 miles in was no completely ready to succumb. I learned the value of a pacer that day. Mentally, Dave pushed me at times that I would have otherwise turned inward, doubted myself, and untaimatley this could have cost me my race. Once I finally stopped doubting his method, it was so easy - put your head down and follow. We ran uphill, downhill, flat, fast, slow...sometimes he tricked me, saying I needed to "stretch" out my legs and work different muscles. But it worked. I never went to that dark place of doubt once during the race, and I think Dave had something to do with this. Getting to Chantry was a blast!

At Chantry, I changed shirts and bras. John and Melia (Jamil's sister) tried their best to keep me covered. I even shouted, "Don't look, I'm about to take my top off." Of course, I looked over and some guy was staring at me, but I guess that's the nature of 100 miles. I wanted to get out of there quick. If I stayed too long I would start to get sad, thinking about how much I would miss John. So, Dave and I quickly sped out of the aid station and up Wilson.

I felt really strong up Wilson, and I even passed someone (we would go back and forth all night). Getting to the aid station felt like forever, but I was just going aid station to aid station at this point. Once going dowhill, Dave remarked on how fast I was going through the dark, single track, and honestly, I was just worried that Keira would catch me. You see, we passed her going into Chantry, and well, all of my friends thought it best not to tell me this info. Funny, but appropriate. So, I would glide down the smooth trails and trip on the more technical stuff Dave kept reminding me to "stay within myself" but this was becoming harder and harder. I just wanted to be done! The anticipation of the finish line was killing me.

Again, nothing really memorable besides some sightings of Nick and Jamil and a few too many bathroom breaks. All of this would change in the last four miles. I told Dave that we had 1:20 to reach the finish line for the sub-24hr finish, and that I wanted it. He assured me we would. I also had the thought of Keira and Maggie in the back of my head. Two miles into a pretty technical and crazy trail that went up, and down, and around streams, and I began to think this was out of my reach. I resolved that I had to do everything in my power to keep my lead and go sub 24hrs. Then, Nick and Jamil flew past me! WTF :). I kid, because, I had a healthy desire to finish before Jamil - but he was moving fast. The last two miles were crazy. I need to go back in the light and see for myself, but I was begging Dave for a road! LOL! When we hit the street, I felt like I was going sub-6 minute miles, but I asked Dave and he said we were only about 9 of 10. I was worried that we still had a while to go, luckily I saw the finish line, and well, about 100 yards from the line a guy passed me. Really?!?! Oh, whatever!

Yes, I did it! It felt sofuckinggood to finish a 100, and run a solid race. In some ways, I was prepared to have any kind of day, but I had the best day, and my finisher photo showed it.

I felt great, and then I left the finish line...it all went downhill from here. I'm gonna spare the details, but I do have some people to thank for helping John and I get on the road that day.

The New Balance rep was awesome for giving me some electrolytes. I was underprepared. Jimmy Dean's crew helped me with some nourishment. His wife, Katie, made a special trip to the store for me...LIFE SAVER! The Courys went to Chipotle and got me white rice for a very upset tummy. So, after a long recovery, and trying to sleep/socialize in a hott park all day, John and I headed home, feeling worn out and renewed.

John and Dave were amazing as crew/pacers. What a great day in the mountains with friends.

Finish time: 23:47, 1st female, 7th overall, and this awesome piece of hardware: