Eat Drink Run Woman

Musings from a Seattle personal chef with a fitness problem

Archive for January, 2016

Published January 5th, 2016



<knock knock> HELLLOOO?  Anyone here?

Yeah, so clearly I’ve gotten lax on the ol’ blogging front.  Can’t even blame it on the cancer, as thankfully I’ve been cancer-free for over a year.  Rather, I’ve suffered a lack of motivation on the running front, which has lasted far longer than I anticipated.


Eager to have a goal race to look forward to after having to bail out of the IMTUF 100, Waldo 100K and White River 50, I signed up for the Umstead 100, held in Raleigh, NC at the end of March.  I heard great things about the race, and since it was very close to my sister in Chapel Hill, I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.

With the lumpectomy and radiation therapy, my mileage was pretty low July-September, but I figured I’d amp it up come October.  I did increase it somewhat, but my motivation was still at an all-time low.  Ditto for November, and December, and… well let’s just say by the time I toed the line at the end of March I was just hoping to finish within the 30-hour cutoff.  The result?  I PRd by over an hour, finishing in 25:54.  WHUT?  Buoyed by this I entered the Lumberjack 100 two weeks later.  It was rough, but I squeaked in under cutoff.  This was the confidence boost I needed for my next big adventure: the Bigfoot 200.


I knew I’d have to step things up considerably for Bigfoot, a 200-mile jaunt around Mt. St. Helens, but my performance at Umstead left me cocky.  “I just have to maintain a fast hike,” I told myself.  While I got out on several long runs around Mt. Rainier, my weekly mileage averaged only 35-45 miles in May, June and July.  When I toed the line at that race start I was scared shitless — for good reason.  Within the first few miles it was clear this would be FAR harder than I anticipated, as I gingerly made my way through a mile-long boulder field.  I actually thought I’d get cut at the first aid station at mile 12!  Fortunately I made it with time to spare, but I was fighting cutoffs for the rest of the way.  (I was joined by the sweepers starting at mile 75).  I eventually made it to mile 110, where I had hoped to pick up a friend to pace me, as well as get some much-needed sleep.  However, the volunteers said that the cutoff at the next aid station — 19 miles away — was in 8 hours.  Normally this wouldn’t faze me, but the section had the steepest and longest climb of the race.  I just didn’t think I’d make it without sleep or a pacer.  Defeated, I chose to DNF.


After licking my DNF wounds and having my pity party, I set my sights on the Rio del Lago 100 in November.  My darling and two of my friends were also running it, and I was looking forward to the party.  However, it wasn’t enough to get my butt out the door to train; my average weekly mileage was a dismal 25 miles in September and October.  Once again I hoped my endurance base would get me to the finish line, but it wasn’t meant to be.  Between taking a couple of hard falls and having to huff it to make a few cutoffs, my body and spirit were broken.  I actually was grateful to not make the mile 84 cutoff, as it meant I could stop running (although by then I could only muster up a fast hobble).

In the three weeks after RDL I only ran once a week.  I felt my joy for running had disappeared; I was far happier with my other hobby: sewing.  However, since that doesn’t do much to keep my weight at bay, I knew I’d have to come up with a plan to kickstart my running.

Enter REDFAM — Run Every Day for a Month.