Eat Drink Run Woman

Badass runner. Copyright 2013, Matt Hagen Photography.

Karl Meltzer is wrong — running 100 miles IS far.

My last attempt at Rocky Raccoon didn’t go so well.  I left Hunstville hobbled, dejected and cringing at my rookie mistakes.  I vowed to get the DNF monkey off my back.

So resolute was I to return I managed to register for the 2013 race even before the link went live on the Tejas Trails website (don’t mess with a woman on a mission).  As a result I was third on the list!  The race sold out within a couple of months, but not before several friends also signed up.  It was shaping up to be quite the vengeance party.

Unlike in past race reports, I won’t bore you with the minutiae of my training.  In short, I’d give it a B+.  Didn’t run as many miles as planned, especially during the week, but I committed to my long runs.  (Between Oct. 1 and Jan. 12 I ran five 50Ks, two trail marathons and a 50-mile training run).  Most of my runs were on trails, and I also worked in a couple of multi-loop runs to simulate the Rocky course.

My training almost got sidelined a couple of times due to a cold, but fortunately it wasn’t too severe.  The second time it hit was during my 3-week taper, and since there wasn’t much I could do to improve my fitness, I focused on rest and recovery (and obsessing about my race pacing, the weather, my gear choices, etc.)  By race week my cold was basically gone, save for a pesky cough.  But the burning in my chest was gone and my breathing had returned.  I was pretty confident I could waddle my way to the finish line within the 30-hour cutoff.

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As a member of both the Marathon Maniacs and Half Fanatics, I’ve gotten a bit addicted to running races.  Now that I’m running ultras my addiction has lessened somewhat (I now try to limit to those races that will be good training runs for my goal races), but I decided I’d go for six “moons” for the Half Fanatics by running the Seattle “Quadzuki” — four halves in four days.  (I ran the full version — the Quadzilla — two years ago).

My darling and I put on the first race: the Wattle Waddle & Wittle Waddle.  While we intended it to be a low-key “fat ass” type of race — it’s on Thanksgiving Day, after all — unfortunately our maniacal and fanatical friends keep begging us to increase registration numbers.  In 2010 we limited it to 102 runners (the number of people who came over on the Mayflower); despite selling out only 78 people showed up due to a snowstorm.  We upped the number in 2011 to 150, and we had 148 finishers.  This year we capped it again at 150, but upped it to 200 due to popular demand.  While we had several no-shows, we also had people trying to get in day-of-race (for $50 cash we gave ‘em a bib).

Day 1 — Wittle Waddle

Since we were still trying to find volunteers to man a couple of aid stations the week of the race, I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to start my race.  (I was either going to start super early, then man a station myself, or run afterward).  But fortunately we got the needed volunteers and I could start pretty much on time.  However, just as I was about to go we got a call from the far aid station — he took off with just one jug of Gatorade and no water.  I hopped in my car, delivered the goods and got back to start about 40 minutes late.  However, it worked in my favor as I was able to cheer on the runners on the out & back.  (I also tried to disqualify them for several violations, but for some reason they didn’t take me seriously).

When I got to the mile 6.5 aid station, I found out our volunteers had a verbal altercation with some residents of the neighborhood.  Apparently they always hold a community turkey trot starting right where our station is located (it’s on a public paved trail).  The kids started swarming the table, grabbing at the chips and candy we had out for the runners.  The volunteer politely asked them to stop, but then one of the mothers started saying how it wasn’t fair that we’re not sharing. “It’s Thanksgiving!” she said.  Are you fucking kidding me?  These are people who live in a very affluent neighborhood, yet they’re encouraging their kids to take food they haven’t paid for?  Unbelievable.  Fortunately one of our more gruff runners came up just then and read the moms the riot act.  And if they try that shit next year, we’ll just have to remind them that WE have a permit to be there

This race was run just for fun; I didn’t care about my time (although I made sure my results are listed under “Empress Turkeytush”).  I walked and chatted with several runners and picked up trash along the way.  I also made a port-o-potty stop, but with about 3 miles to go nature called again.  I figured I could hold it until the finish, but running simply got things moving through my system more quickly.  I hate getting to that point — the faster I run the quicker I can get to a toilet, but the faster I run the more I run the risk of pooping myself before I get there.  Finally the finish came in to sight and I headed directly to the port-o-potty rather than check in to get my time recorded.  (I figured I could always get Weegee to change it any way!)  Finished in 2:28:47.

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Success!

When it became clear I’d be running my 100th race of marathon distance or further in 2012 I started thinking about the perfect race to commemorate said feet, er, feat.  I wanted to challenge myself, so I considered the Cascade Crest 100.  I liked the thought of running 100 for my 100th, plus the timing was right for hitting #100 without having to cram in a bunch of races.  Problem was, the race scared the bejeezus out of me.  While I had become much more confident on the trails, this was varsity-level stuff.  Even with year-long preparation, I wasn’t sure I’d be up for it.

When a friend of mine suggested the Waldo 100K, I knew I found my race.  I’d still be running 100 for my 100th, it too was perfect timing (it’s a week before Cascade Crest), plus it would provide the challenge I sought without chewing me up (at least I hoped).  In order to earn the coveted Waldo hat, runners had to finish within 16 hours of the regular start, or 18 from the early start.  I knew from the get-go I’d not only need the extra time, I was concerned about making the 18-hour cutoff.

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I had it too easy at Javelina. All the pain and suffering I’ve heard about in 100-mile races? I came through virtually unscathed. Sure, I had some low points, but overall it was an incredible experience.

Leave it to the Raccoon to bring me back down to earth.

When some good friends mentioned they’d be signing up for Rocky Raccoon, my husband immediately jumped on board for the 100. I, however, was torn. Take my chances and sign up for the 100 despite not having run one yet, or stick with the 50-mile? I knew the 50 tended to sell out, so I didn’t want to wait until after Javelina in November. I emailed Joe Prusaitis, the RD, to see if I could upgrade if all things went well and he confirmed I could.

Six days after Javelina I sent him a check to cover the extra cost.

Eleven days after that I pulled my right hamstring — in yoga, no less.

Between that and some major overindulgence during the holidays my training was not ideal. In the nine weeks prior to Rocky I logged just over 320 miles; 100 miles less than what I logged for Javelina during the same timeframe. I also didn’t run anything further than a marathon, although I did get in two. I figured rest & recovery would better serve me and hoped the endurance I’d built up would pull me through.

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Best. Finish. Ever!

My 27 hours, 42 minutes and 30 seconds in the Arizona desert were some of the most challenging, yet rewarding moments in my life.  My mood ranged from sheer elation to fatiguing funk – sometimes just minutes apart – but my journey to that point fully prepared me for any obstacle that presented itself.  When the low points started descending upon me, I conjured up the sage advice I received from my fellow ultrarunners, dismissing the doldrums with ease (or at least stuffing them far down into the pain cave).  Failure was not an option; I would continue on until no longer possible.

When there’s no where else to run
Despite racking up several marathons and ultras, I didn’t think a 100-miler was in my future.  But less than 2 hours after expressing that sentiment to a couple of my ultrarunner friends during a 12-hour race last year I was coveting the JJ buckle another friend had just earned.  She raved about the race, saying it was great for first-timers.  Because it was held around Halloween (or “Jalloween”), costumes are encouraged.  Given costumes were de rigeur for my first marathon, the Marathon du Medoc, this was particularly apt. The fact one could earn a buckle for finishing at least 100K was another plus (severe knee problems had forced my friend to drop to the “wuss out” option, but she still proudly wore her 100K buckle).

Since the 2011 date hadn’t yet been set, the next day I was Googling “2011 full moon schedule” knowing the race would be held on the full moon weekend closest to Halloween.  The first option – Oct. 15-16 – wasn’t ideal as I knew the temps could still be quite toasty (I’m not a fan of heat).  But I was ecstatic to see the second option – Nov. 12-13 – as it not only might mean cooler weather, the race would start on my birthday.  I checked the race website religiously over the next couple of weeks, waiting for the date announcement.  Impatient, I emailed the race director.  I jumped for joy when he confirmed it would be in November.  I must have been one of the first to sign up once registration opened.

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Photo by Glenn Tachiyama

Holy shit, this is really happening.

It was 5:30 a.m. on July 30 and I was at start line of the White River 50, one of the Pacific Northwest’s most stunning and challenging ultras with 17,400 feet of elevation change.  This moment was a year in the making, and I was quaking in my Cascadias.

Holyshitholyshitholyshit.  What am I getting into?

I almost entered the 2010 race on a whim, but fortunately a disastrous training run on the course slapped me back to reality: I wasn’t ready… yet.  While I could tear up the roads for miles, technical trails left me a quivering mess.  So I started hitting the trails to boost my confidence, as well as entered several of the more challenging races.  I built up slowly, starting with shorter races that would increase my trail-running skills without completely wiping me out, then moved on to the longer stuff: Chuckanut 50K, Capitol Peak 55K, 55 miles at the Watershed Preserve 12-hour, Beacon Rock 50K (a particularly grueling race put on by Rainshadow Running).

My training was going well, but I made a bonehead move at the end of June: I tried to BQ again at the Seattle Rock ‘n Roll Marathon.  My darling and I had decided to skip Boston for 2012, but had a change of heart.  Given how quickly it promised to sell out, we knew we’d have limited chances to get our times.  We both had great races up until mile 17, but we weren’t able to hold the pace.  While pushing my limits at RnR wasn’t necessarily detrimental to my White River goals, running the Ghost of Bellevue — another road marathon — the next day probably wasn’t the smartest move.  The roads beat me up, forcing me to take four days off from running.

To my credit, I did get in three training runs on the White River course.  However, due to snow we weren’t able to get as far as we hoped.  More troubling: based on my paces in each of these runs I was concerned I wouldn’t make the cutoff, even with an hour early start.  In mid July I headed down to Death Valley to pace a friend at Badwater; while I didn’t get in as much running as I would have liked, at least I got to spend time at higher elevations and in intense heat (the second half of White River can be brutal due to the sun).  By the time I returned from Death Valley I was in taper mode — there was nothing I could do to improve my fitness, but lots I could do to f@#k it up.

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Yesterday I became a woman — an honest-to-god trail-running woman!

Even with 50+ marathons and 14 ultras under my feet, I still couldn’t identify myself as an ultra-runner.  I hang with a pretty gnarly crowd; they eat mountains for breakfast and consider 40 miles an easy day.  Me?  I like to take baby steps when it comes to challenging myself.  Most of my ultras were on relatively flat, well-groomed “rails-to-trails” courses.  It was time to hike up my “big girl” pants.

Mind you, I wasn’t a total virgin to technical trails with major elevation.  In August 2009 my darling and I joined several other runners on a 27-mile training run on a section of the Cascade Crest 100-mile course.  Not only did I have to contend with the most technical trails I had ever encountered, it was also freaking hot (90 degrees at the Snoqualmie Pass summit).  Soon after hitting the trail I was sweating buckets, and even though I had 60 ounces of water in my hydration pack, salt tabs and several gels, the sweeper was really worried about me.  By the time we hit an aid station at mile 10 I knew it would be foolish to continue, and fortunately we were able to get a ride back to the start.

I had another disastrous trail run last summer.  I joined my darling for a training run on the first half of the White River 50 course, but it ended up being a long, slow hike (9 hours to cover approximately 25 miles).  I was still recovering from two fast road marathons in the two weeks prior, plus I hadn’t eaten enough that morning.  I was sucking wind on the uphills and far too timid on the downhills.  By the end I was stumbling along in a daze.  I somewhat redeemed myself, however, as two weeks later I swept the first half of the course during the race.  It still took 8 hours, but I was responsible for removing the plentiful course marker ribbons, which added at least 45 minutes to my time.

That’s when I decided to make 2011 “The Year of the Ultra.”

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You know the elation you feel when your training, pre-race nutrition and race-day strategy coalesce into the perfect race?  Well, that feeling eluded me in Victoria this past Sunday.  Mind you, I was still able to pull a BQ out of my sorry arse, but it sure twasn’t pretty.  Even though this was my 44th marathon, the experience proved you just can’t take the distance for granted.  Get too cocky and you risk getting chewed up, spit out and left on the curb licking your wounds.

For those in race report overload I’ll cut to the chase: I finished in 3:57:40; not the PR I was hoping for (needed to beat 3:54:34), but good enough to be invited to the 2012 Boston party should finances allow.

Training
I was determined to follow a more regimented training schedule for this race, at least as regimented as a Marathon Maniac could be.  My goal was to PR, but I also considered going for a 3:50. After my BQ at Seattle Rock ‘n Roll (3:55:42) at the end of June I ran “only” one other marathon — Missoula on July 11.  I was pleasantly surprised with my time — 4:04 — given it was only two weeks after Seattle.  (I probably could have run a sub 4 if it weren’t for two bathroom breaks).  I vowed to concentrate on speed and shorter races for the rest of the summer.

Most of my longer runs for the remainder of July and August were in the 9- to 13-mile range, however, I did run/hike two 25-milers and ran/walked a couple of 19-milers.  (The first two were on the White River 50-mile course, a mountainous single track.  The latter two were on carriage roads in Maine; while I was able to run the first 10 miles of each run, the heat and humidity slowed me to a slog during the last half.  So I don’t consider any of these long runs to be quality runs, although they did give me time on my feet).

My August mileage was also very low — 136 — compared to the 175-200 miles I had been averaging.  However, I PR’d in a half marathon in early August, shaving almost 5 minutes (ran it in 1:48:52).  I was encouraged to see McMillan predicted a 3:49:36 marathon time based on the half, but I also knew that’d be a stretch.  I also raced a 10K in mid-August (got 3rd in my age group) and was on a competitive women’s team for Hood-to-Coast (we placed 4th in our division).  Still, I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me to reach my goal, including upping my mileage and getting in more long runs.

My first race in September was a trail 25K which I took very easy.  I followed that up with a road half the next weekend; I was on track for yet another PR through mile 9, but the rain and headwind got the better of me.  Still, my 1:50:03 time indicated a PR was not out of the question at Victoria.  I also got in two 20-milers, another half and a couple of 12-milers, finishing up the month with just over 180 miles.

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It really shouldn’t have happened. I’m sure most people thought I was crazy to even THINK it could happen. BQ six weeks after running a 50-miler? Using a 50K as my last long run before my goal race? Coaxing a sub 4-hour out of my aging body at my 20th marathon for the YEAR? That’s crack-smoking talk.

Yet thanks to strategic planning, an impromptu encounter with an elite runner and favorable weather conditions, I managed to smash my goal with nary a toke on the ol’ crack pipe, finishing the 2010 Seattle Rock ‘n Roll Marathon in 3:55:41.

The Plan
Upon returning from Beantown this year I began to set my sights on next year. There’s something about being around such speedy runners that gets me motivated. However, I assumed Boston would sell out even earlier this year, which might make a fall race moot. Given I’d be running the Rainier to Ruston 50-mile on June 5, I didn’t think I’d be recovered in time to try at Seattle Rock ‘n Roll. Missoula was two weeks later; still not ideal, but at least it’d give me more recovery time. And if I didn’t succeed, no big deal. After all, my darling still hadn’t BQ’d, and I wouldn’t have wanted to drag him back again if I were the only one to race.

All that changed on May 2 when he ran a 3:18:28 at the Tacoma City Marathon.

As with my race, the odds of him BQing that day were slim. It’s a particularly hilly course, plus it was his 18th race in so many weeks. But if anyone has the grit and stubborn determination (along with a bit of dumb luck), it’s my hubby. Now the pressure was on.

As we were milling around in the recovery area one of my Maniac friends asked me about my goal for the Redmond Watershed 12-hour two weeks later. I had hoped to get in 35-40 miles as my last long run before Rainier to Ruston, but she wondered why I wouldn’t go for 50. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t ready; if I could run 13 marathons/50Ks in 12 weeks, I could certainly run a 50-miler, especially in 12 hours.

The gears in my head started spinning — what if I ran 50 miles there instead and switched to the 50K option for Rainier to Ruston; could I possibly get into BQ shape for Seattle Rock ‘n Roll? That race was preferable since I knew it, plus Missoula can get quite hot. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.

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While I was thrilled with the opportunity to interview Meb Keflezighi, winner of the 2009 New York Marathon and Olympic silver medalist, I started to panic. I wanted to ask him about running, but I hoped to ask him something I could relate to.  What could we possibly have in common?  Yes, we both ran the 2010 Boston Marathon, but he crossed the finish line more than two hours before I dragged my sorry ass across.

Mind you, I didn’t have much time to prepare — I had only found out about the opportunity two hours before I was to meet him.  Since I hadn’t actually spoken to the Sony PR rep myself, I had no idea if I’d be meeting him one-on-one, or if it would be a group interview.  But my darling and I mulled over a couple of questions as we drove back to the expo.

We arrived at the Sony booth to find a long line snaking around waiting for his autograph.  I spoke to one of the Sony reps who had just found out I’d be coming.  The autograph session was supposed to go until 1 p.m., then he was all mine.  I decided to hop in line myself in order to get my bibs signed (I brought my Boston bib as well).  When I realized the session would go long, I told the Sony rep we could skip the interview as I didn’t want to take even more of his time.  But they kept assuring me it’d happen (perhaps they thought I was some big-shot running blogger!)

When I finally got to sit down with him, I was starstruck; it was as if I was in the presence of royalty (extremely humble royalty!)  He greets you with a warm smile that lights up his face, grasping your hand in both of his.  He’s clearly appreciative of the opportunities his adoptive country has given him, and I couldn’t think of a better ambassador. (He was floored — and extremely honored — when my darling asked him to sign his passport as a patriotic gesture).

When asked what opportunities he sees for his young daughters that he didn’t have in his native Eritrea, he beamed.

“This is a great country, a melting pot,” he said.  “I want them to follow their passions.  If it’s running, great, but if it’s something else, that’s fine.  It’s all about self fulfillment.”

His two oldest daughters, ages 4 and 2 (his youngest is 5 months) are already expressing some interest in running.  They’ll position themselves as if on a starting line for a track race, then yell out “On your mark, get set — GO!” and sprint off.  While he’d love them to follow his passion for running, he simply hopes they’ll stay active.

“Anything to get them off the couch,” he said.  “Sports teaches you a lot about life — accountability, hard work — there are no short cuts.  Same with education; you wouldn’t skip high school and go directly into college.”

In addition to fitness, health and education are his other passions, and to promote and support these causes he is launching the MEB Foundation, which he says stands for “maintaining excellent balance.”

I was also curious how he approached his races in terms of a goal.  I assumed his “A” goal would be to win, but does he come up with secondary or even tertiary goals?  Ever since my blowup at the North Olympic Discovery Marathon in 2008 — where my end all/be all goal was to BQ — I’ve learned to come up with other goals to keep me motivated should my A goal slip away.  Do elites think the same way?

Turns out Meb does.  “You don’t want to make your primary goal untouchable, but you should some up with A-Z goals.  It’s all about self fulfillment.”

As I left the expo clutching my autographed Rock ‘n Roll bib, it dawned on me I blew it with Meb — Food!  THAT’S what we ALL have in common!  Here I am a personal chef and runner, why didn’t I ask him about food?  What does he eat before a race?  Does he allow himself any guilty indulgences afterward?  Is he able to find food from his native country here in the U.S.?

Oh well, perhaps I’ll get a second chance to talk to him in Boston next year