I maned a big PR in the IU mini on Saturday despite the ridiculous amount of hills on the course and the fact that I had been sick for almost 3 weeks beforehand. Woah! I ran a 1:34:30, only 30 seconds off my goal time (pre strep, I had no expectations going into the race).
The weeks leading up to the race were rough. I was so sick that I had to cut every run or workout short since spring break. I always felt weak and shaky while running and I blacked out during a few of my runs. I missed all but one classes the week before. Basically, I was in denial about the whole thing until mile 4 of the race.
Katie and I woke up last minute and drove to the stadium for the race. We stayed in the car with the heat on up until we could hear the announcer counting down the minutes until the gun went off. I rolled my eyes as I got out of the car immediately thinking I was going to regret my decision to run. I was definitely still sick; the day before I almost fainted on my way to class at the Union.
We jogged to the start line and I met up with Jon Lee, one of my favorite running buddies who is conveniently runs the same pace as me. We were lucky enough to run our legs of the Red Eye Relay together this summer and he'd push my up the hills whereas I'd push him on the long flat straightaways. We make a good team!!
We hung out together for the first eleven miles comfortably chatting and hitting 7:05-7:18 miles. He'd pick up the pace on the hills which just about killed me. I was still sick and faint and felt really strangely weak and dizzy every time we ran up-hill. But I'd recover eventually and return to my comfortable state again.
I realize I had forgotten to put a gu in my shorts pocket and immediately regretted that. Although I don't get hungry running for 90 minutes those extra calories can make a big difference. Especially because I hadn't had breakfast. Jon spared me the last tiny bit of his and it was just enough to be a tease.
I was also having cramps in my diaphragm- the ones I get when my body is low on sodium. I tried to drink a powerade instead of a water at one of the aid stations thinking it would help but it doesn't have much salt in it and it was way too sweet. Powerade sucks.
We hit Winslow hill which knocked out about 75% of our competition. Jon and I started picking people one by one to pass and moved up in the crowd, our mile splits staying pretty constant. People were slowing down.
At mile 11 I was feeling good and the faint/dizzy feeling started to worry me less because so far it hadn't caused me to slow down and I was still in one piece. I went ahead of Jon and passed big packs of intercollegiate club runners. I passed a ton of girls who were exhausted from all the hills. I guess trail running and running up mountains in Colorado have made me a strong hill runner! I used to be an awful hill runner in high school. My coach would be so proud of me if he saw my race Saturday.
Although my effort was significantly higher my pace didn't change. My last mile was only my fastest by two seconds, I ran a 7:06. As I crossed the finish line I puked up my delicious dinner from tallent the previous night (bummer) and the next thing I knew I was on the ground. A very kind girl picked up up and carried me to the water supply where I drank and regained consciousness. My hands were freezing cold.
I regained strength and watched Katie and my french teacher (who was not pleased I had decided to run despite being sick) finish 4 minutes later. I was so proud of Katie, it was a big PR for her!
Overall I was very proud of my pacing, my mile times were extremely consistent. I was proud of my overall time too- before I had strep I was hoping to run a 1:34 (which is equivalent to a sub 1:30 on a flat course) and I couldn't believe I had done that despite being really ill and taking a long time off to recover and failing so many workouts.
Katie and I celebrated with scrambled eggs, mimosas and naps. The following day I learned I had one my age group! Pretty cool!
My next races are Little 50 and the Carmel Marathon which is the following weekend.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
What's Next: finally getting my sub 3:20 marathon or 100 mile finish?
As I sit here putting off finals and reading my old blog posts, recovering from a heck of a training schedule leading up to Javelina, and trying to get over the flu that's caused a 101 degree fever and non stop barfing, I just want to RUN again.
I'm the kind of girl who plans ahead SO far in advance. I like schedules.
And I don't have one.
In February I'll be running Louisville Lovin' the Hills 50k, and in March I've got Land Between the Lakes 50 mile on my schedule. That's fine, but neither of those will require any out-of-the-ordinary training for me. When I recover from my flu and finish finals I'll be able to hop back in a high-mileage schedule no problem.
There are two things I want BAD: to run 100 miles and to run a marathon under 3:20. The problem is, training for my first 100 mile attempt was really hard with school. I often put running first and my attendance grades this semester weren't fantastic. If it was nice out, I had to be outside running!
I also miss running fast. Plus, I think I'm going to be in France teaching English this summer during the 100 mile race I really had my heart set on. So I think I need to find a marathon in April and work on my speed and road running. I love trail running more than anything in the WORLD but there will be time for that later... after graduation and after my summer in France!
I'm the kind of girl who plans ahead SO far in advance. I like schedules.
And I don't have one.
In February I'll be running Louisville Lovin' the Hills 50k, and in March I've got Land Between the Lakes 50 mile on my schedule. That's fine, but neither of those will require any out-of-the-ordinary training for me. When I recover from my flu and finish finals I'll be able to hop back in a high-mileage schedule no problem.
There are two things I want BAD: to run 100 miles and to run a marathon under 3:20. The problem is, training for my first 100 mile attempt was really hard with school. I often put running first and my attendance grades this semester weren't fantastic. If it was nice out, I had to be outside running!
I also miss running fast. Plus, I think I'm going to be in France teaching English this summer during the 100 mile race I really had my heart set on. So I think I need to find a marathon in April and work on my speed and road running. I love trail running more than anything in the WORLD but there will be time for that later... after graduation and after my summer in France!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Javelina Jundred Kilometers
Yesterday felt like a dream. Did it really happen?
I arrived in Phoenix Thursday morning and Scott came Friday morning. We are staying with his uncle. I hung out with his cousin Emily trying to distract myself until Saturday morning. Thursday and Friday night I kept wondering why on EARTH I signed up for this race.
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| Checking out the Pemberton Trail |
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| Hugging the Cactus for good luck |
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| Javelina Jeadquarters |
We woke up at 4am and were out of the house by 4:30. We parked at McDowell Mountain Park and took a shuttle to the Javelina Jeadquarters. I was freezing cold and hung out by the heaters not saying much to Scott... freaking out about how much it was going to HURT. I was wishing I could fast forward to the part where its dark and start there.. I knew that was the part where it was going to be really tough.
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| With my boyfriend/best friend/pacer/crew |
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| Nervous Smile |
The gun went off... well not really.. the clock just hit 6:00:00am, and we took off for our first 15.5 mile loop. The race is composed of 6.5 loops and we come back to the Javelina Jeadquarters between each lap where crews are allowed to set up camp. The trail was hardly wider than single track, so we walked about a half mile before we could even start running.
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| Javelina Jeadquarters from above |
Lap 2 was pretty easy. I coasted and ran near Shannon, a super sweet girl who owns and designs clothes for Moeben. It started to get really warm and I made sure I was drinking a full hand-held water bottle every three miles. I was a little sleepy and drank three cups of mountain dew. I didn't talk to anyone because we were all running and walking different parts. I liked running up the hills so I passed a lot of people on the up-hill, and then they would pass me on the flat parts. We went back and forth the whole time. Not having anyone to run with made me bored. I missed Jason and Jonathon who I ran with most of Ice Age! They are such great friends to run with. Ice Age (my most recent 50 mile ultra) was the best/most fun/most interesting day of my whole life. Hocking Hills 60k was really fun too! Honestly, I wasn't having any fun at this race.
I came into the aid station at mile thirty feeling fresh. I sat down a little longer than normal and scott tried to feed me a Nutella sandwich. Um, GROSS. I spat/gagged it out in the trash can. Instead I had some more Gu's... apple flavored carb BOOM! tastes just like apple sauce. Delicious. I had 4 more S! Caps and set off for lap number 3.
The sun came out and I could felt my face and arm getting burnt. My face was caked in salt and my shirt had gone from purple to white. I crashed hard and fast. I felt nauseous, week and shaky. I was glad that my stomach was the problem, not my legs because that meant I could probably fix it. I peed and it was bright yellow. I sat down and told the volunteers I wouldn't leave the aid station until I had 4 cups of water and tons of S! caps.
The distance to the next aid station was SIX miles. that is a lot when you're rocking a 14 min/mi pace. I ran out of water in my bottle and felt nauseous and shaky again. I had a fever. It was bad. I asked a young guy on a bike how far it was until the next station and all he could say back was "uhh.. kind of far" thanks buddy. At least I peed about once every half mile, so I knew I was set on salt... just needed water.
FINALLY I hit the aid station and grabbed gatorade thinking it would be more helpful than water. That was dumb. I was so sick I couldn't keep the gatorade down, which I didn't realize until I was already on may way to the next station which was another 5 miles away. That meant I couldn't drink anything for five warm and sunny miles. I couldn't keep food down either. I was tired and depressed. I missed Scott so much and I just wanted to see him more than anything. I was so upset I was crashing this early and I knew it was because of the heat. My legs felt fresh and I was able to keep a somewhat steady pace, but whenever I ran faster than a 14 min/mi i would feel nauseous and start to vomit. I reeeeally didn't want to throw up because I needed to keep food down. I was already hardly eating anything because of the dehydration. I just wanted Scott.
What seemed like hours later, and a few tears later, I was back at the headquarters for mile 46. I didn't see Scott anywhere. Scott's buddy Jay's crew girl informed me that he was out pacing Jay for a lap and would pick me up after that lap to start pacing at mile 62. I broke down in tears. I have never cried so hard in my life. I was sobbing so hard that it took the whole dehydration issue to a new level. I was sick and depressed. I took an antidepressant because a lot of times running far distances can mess up my serotonin levels. Sometimes an extra pill that day can help. Three very sweet ladies wrapped a blanket around me and gave me soup, water, and m&m's for a quick pick-me-up. I cried in their laps and they hugged me and comforted me. I just wanted to see Scott. I cried for a few more minutes to let it out. It felt so good to cry. It made me realize how lucky I am to have Scott as a boyfriend, best friend, pacer, and crew. He is so sweet and inspires me to try my hardest and take on challenges I would otherwise never do.
My tears started to dry up and I took off for lap number 4. I met Kelly Gaines, who's husband was running, and their sweet baby Caleb. He was so adorable and precious. It was comforting seeing them, but I was still in a rut. I still had a fever and although I was able to keep the food down finally, running just made me feel dizzy and weak. I had been working hard to catch up on my hydration, but the nausea wasn't going away.
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| Cheered up by mile 47 |
I remembered Jay's orange singlet and knew he was coming from the opposite direction. I fixed my eyes straight ahead on the trail looking for Jay and Scott and managed to stub my toes on rocks. My shoes were too small, and my toes were getting beat up bad. That was certainly not the worst of my problems at this point!!
3 miles later I saw the orange singlet and a guy just behind him. I KNEW it was Scott. I thought I was going to break down in tears when I saw him but instead I instantly perked up. The sun was setting and I would be allowed a pacer in 20 ish minutes. But, if Scott finished the lap, I would have had to wait another 10 miles (which at this point could be four hours) to see him again. I desperately asked if he could maybe start pacing me now, and not finish the loop with Jay. He agreed and told Jay is plans and set off with me. (Sorry Jay!)
The next five miles were incredible. I was happy for the first time during the race. I chatted non stop to Scott about the race and we ran the whole time. I didn't notice my stomach, or the fact that my legs were getting tight because I was just so happy to be with him. I laughed a lot and smiled most of the loop.
Then came the hard part- the gap between two aid stations was 6.5 miles. It was pitch black. I kept running off the trail. What seemed like 5 miles was a half of a mile. I was sick again. My face felt hot, I felt nauseous and I was having weird cramps in weird places. I felt like I do when I get weak after I go to the hospital and see injured people, or like I do when I see a lot of blood or a gross injury or just something gory. The kind of feeling you get right before you pass out. I think I ran into a cactus but hardly noticed. (Later, after the race, I found the cacti needles sticking out of my leg, and I had to pull them out one-by-one, not fun when you already feel like crap!) I began talking to myself. Honestly I had no idea what was going on. Somewhere in that stretch I decided I was done. I would earn a belt buckle and I didn't want to get another IV(I had my first this summer after a cycling injury), which would have happened if I had run even one more mile. I was so weak and sick. I sat down at an aid station and tried to gain some strength with Ramen Noodle Soup. I chatted with the aid station workers trying to remain positive despite the fact I knew it was not possible to keep going when I got back to the headquarters. The last two miles took over an hour because I was so sick.
I crossed the start/finish area and told the lady I was done. I had been running for just under fifteen hours. She handed me my buckle and congratulated me. I was so relieved. 100 kilometers is the farthest I have ever run, and I still got to take home a shiny new belt buckle. I've only run 50 miles before, and before that 37 miles twice. Making it that much farther despite the heat and dehydration/fever was such an accomplishment. I didn't cry. I sat there in silence tired and out of it. My legs were trashed. I was still sick. It started to rain. I just thanked God for Scott and for my family and all my friends who have been so supportive. I prayed for my cousin Madeline who's been in the hospital for a month in a coma, recovering from a car accident. I thought of my Mom and my dad and my brother, my roommate Katie, my best friends Wes and Wendy. I thought of Jason and Jonathon who taught me that ultramarathons should be fun. I thought of Tricia and Fefe and Aubrey, My Little 50 teammates. I thought of all the people who DNF'ed there first 100, and how they still managed to try again, and all of them finished their second. The fact that they had the guts to try again after such a painful experience and extreme effort that lead to failure was so inspiring. Mostly, I thought about Scott and how sweet he is to me.
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| Showing off My belt buckle at the Finish Line |
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| My new belt buckle!! |
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
105 mile week topped off with Hocking Hills Indian Run 60k
Now that my ITBS has finally cleared up and my concussion(yeah, I had a concussion) is finally healed, I need to play major catch up with my mileage. This was a big week for me.
Because my logarun week starts Sunday, I've had to adjust my weeks to Sun-Sa instead of Mon-Sun.
Anyway, Sunday I ran 30 miles. I wanted to really challenge Katie so she could feel more confident about the Chicago Marathon, so our plan was to run 20ish miles at Morgan Monroe and I'd get my last 10 around the hilly streets of Bloomington. We were going to complete two eleven mile laps. Unfortunately, it wasn't her day and she felt a little sick during the run. She powered through one lap and I decided it would be okay if we finished our run on the streets. And we did. She ran another 14 giving her 25 miles that day. Good job katie! Katie is my roommate who I am training for the Chicago marathon- totally forgot to mention that part, I need to start writing on here more. I needed five more miles so I finished on the flattest part near my apt I could find, and holy smokes my knee hurt SO bad. I was wincing in pain, trying not to cuss under my breath and practically dragging my right leg along. The thing about the knee pain is that it doesnt make the source of the injury worse, it just hurts a lot. So I try to run through it knowing that its not going to make my IT band any more tight, its just going to hurt a ton. I practically walked, or I guess hobbled the last 6 and I managed a solid 12 min/mile. When I was done I was tearing up in pain. I sat down and iced.
Monday my knee was very tender. I had trouble at work getting around. When we play outside, the kids all want "underdogs" when they're on the swing, and sadly I couldn't do that. That's like ten feet of running. Not even... I tried to run but after two miles I quit and went back home. I iced and stretched again.
Tuesday we ran 4 miles in jogging class, and by the end my knee was tender again. Once again, the pain has nothing to do with the source of the injury, its just flared up from rubbing that the IT band tightness causes outside of the knee. I planned on running again later, but I was limping again. If you can't walk right, you probably can't run.
Wednesday I was on trails which totally helped(Waupahanee (sp?) and Griffy. My knee was feeling good again and I split the run into 2 in order to keep my knee from flaring up again. Also because the tornado siren kept going off, I had to get inside every once in a while afraid a tree might fall on me. I ran 12 miles total.
Thursday my knee was back to normal. Instead of running 50 miles all the time, I like to do 2 long runs either back to back or , in this case, with a day inbetween because we had to drive to Ohio on Friday. So Thursday I ran 20 as slowly as possible on the super flat rail trail. The last four were brutal with my knee, but I kept running through it because I so desperately needed the miles. SO. painful.
Friday I hobbled around at work and worried about my 60k on Saturday. I could hardly walk and I was supposed to run 37.3 miles the following morning? Cooool. I found ice in the freezer and stretched with the kids. I tried to keep my leg elevated during the 5 hour car ride to Ohio.
Saturday morning I woke up feeling doubtful. I could still hardly walk because it was so tight. I reluctantly picked up my bib praying that I could make it through one 20k loop. The race totals in three loops, and there is no place to drop out besides at 20k increments.
My knee definitely hurt the first lap, but my main problem was the nasty "Skyline" we had for dinner the previous night on the road. I had to stop and go to the bathroom in the woods a ton. I completed my first lap and headed straight to the bathroom. I was in there for 20 minutes. Probably in last place of the race by the time I got out.
I didn't see anyone from our group so I decided to try for another loop and learned if I needed to drop somewhere during the loop I could get a ride from an aid station volunteer. Determined to make the most out of the 25$ I paid, I set out in dead last. There were 40k runners already coming through for their 2nd 20k lap. Dang! But I felt SO much better that I didn't even notice my knee. All I could think about how awesome I felt having finally gotten rid of that skyline. Somewhere around mile 6 of that loop it occurred to me that my knee had felt better after running 19 miles than it has ever felt 19 miles in of a run since before May. I didn't want to celebrate YET, because I could feel the tightness in my IT band. But I knew I was going to do that third loop, even if it meant Scott, Ted and the Yoders had to wait an extra two hours for me because it took me so long to complete loop 1. I passed a lot of 60k runners and was relieved to no longer be in last place.
At the end of lap two, Scott Ted and Jeff had yet to pass me so I went out for my third loop quickly before they could finish and see me so far behind. I was flyying on lap three. I felt on top of the world. I felt fit and awesome (probably thanks to crazy training in Colorado). The last three miles were all uphill and steep, but I averaged like, 7:30 per mile. After 36 hilly miles, and running up a decent sized 1 mile long hill, I felt the best I had felt during the whole race. I crossed the finish upset because I wanted to keep going. I could have done at least another 2 laps that day. And, with a 30 mile and 20 mile run all in the past week, I realized that I am more ready for Javelina then I thought I was.
I'm feeling really confident today and my knee isn't the least bit tender. Ready for another 100+ mile week!
Because my logarun week starts Sunday, I've had to adjust my weeks to Sun-Sa instead of Mon-Sun.
Anyway, Sunday I ran 30 miles. I wanted to really challenge Katie so she could feel more confident about the Chicago Marathon, so our plan was to run 20ish miles at Morgan Monroe and I'd get my last 10 around the hilly streets of Bloomington. We were going to complete two eleven mile laps. Unfortunately, it wasn't her day and she felt a little sick during the run. She powered through one lap and I decided it would be okay if we finished our run on the streets. And we did. She ran another 14 giving her 25 miles that day. Good job katie! Katie is my roommate who I am training for the Chicago marathon- totally forgot to mention that part, I need to start writing on here more. I needed five more miles so I finished on the flattest part near my apt I could find, and holy smokes my knee hurt SO bad. I was wincing in pain, trying not to cuss under my breath and practically dragging my right leg along. The thing about the knee pain is that it doesnt make the source of the injury worse, it just hurts a lot. So I try to run through it knowing that its not going to make my IT band any more tight, its just going to hurt a ton. I practically walked, or I guess hobbled the last 6 and I managed a solid 12 min/mile. When I was done I was tearing up in pain. I sat down and iced.
Monday my knee was very tender. I had trouble at work getting around. When we play outside, the kids all want "underdogs" when they're on the swing, and sadly I couldn't do that. That's like ten feet of running. Not even... I tried to run but after two miles I quit and went back home. I iced and stretched again.
Tuesday we ran 4 miles in jogging class, and by the end my knee was tender again. Once again, the pain has nothing to do with the source of the injury, its just flared up from rubbing that the IT band tightness causes outside of the knee. I planned on running again later, but I was limping again. If you can't walk right, you probably can't run.
Wednesday I was on trails which totally helped(Waupahanee (sp?) and Griffy. My knee was feeling good again and I split the run into 2 in order to keep my knee from flaring up again. Also because the tornado siren kept going off, I had to get inside every once in a while afraid a tree might fall on me. I ran 12 miles total.
Thursday my knee was back to normal. Instead of running 50 miles all the time, I like to do 2 long runs either back to back or , in this case, with a day inbetween because we had to drive to Ohio on Friday. So Thursday I ran 20 as slowly as possible on the super flat rail trail. The last four were brutal with my knee, but I kept running through it because I so desperately needed the miles. SO. painful.
Friday I hobbled around at work and worried about my 60k on Saturday. I could hardly walk and I was supposed to run 37.3 miles the following morning? Cooool. I found ice in the freezer and stretched with the kids. I tried to keep my leg elevated during the 5 hour car ride to Ohio.
Saturday morning I woke up feeling doubtful. I could still hardly walk because it was so tight. I reluctantly picked up my bib praying that I could make it through one 20k loop. The race totals in three loops, and there is no place to drop out besides at 20k increments.
My knee definitely hurt the first lap, but my main problem was the nasty "Skyline" we had for dinner the previous night on the road. I had to stop and go to the bathroom in the woods a ton. I completed my first lap and headed straight to the bathroom. I was in there for 20 minutes. Probably in last place of the race by the time I got out.
I didn't see anyone from our group so I decided to try for another loop and learned if I needed to drop somewhere during the loop I could get a ride from an aid station volunteer. Determined to make the most out of the 25$ I paid, I set out in dead last. There were 40k runners already coming through for their 2nd 20k lap. Dang! But I felt SO much better that I didn't even notice my knee. All I could think about how awesome I felt having finally gotten rid of that skyline. Somewhere around mile 6 of that loop it occurred to me that my knee had felt better after running 19 miles than it has ever felt 19 miles in of a run since before May. I didn't want to celebrate YET, because I could feel the tightness in my IT band. But I knew I was going to do that third loop, even if it meant Scott, Ted and the Yoders had to wait an extra two hours for me because it took me so long to complete loop 1. I passed a lot of 60k runners and was relieved to no longer be in last place.
At the end of lap two, Scott Ted and Jeff had yet to pass me so I went out for my third loop quickly before they could finish and see me so far behind. I was flyying on lap three. I felt on top of the world. I felt fit and awesome (probably thanks to crazy training in Colorado). The last three miles were all uphill and steep, but I averaged like, 7:30 per mile. After 36 hilly miles, and running up a decent sized 1 mile long hill, I felt the best I had felt during the whole race. I crossed the finish upset because I wanted to keep going. I could have done at least another 2 laps that day. And, with a 30 mile and 20 mile run all in the past week, I realized that I am more ready for Javelina then I thought I was.
I'm feeling really confident today and my knee isn't the least bit tender. Ready for another 100+ mile week!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
The Leadville 100 Experience.
I've been dreading writing this post. This blog is hard to keep up with. But I suppose I should talk about Leadville. It was an incredible experience and something I'll never forget.
We woke up at like 2:30 am, which totally sucked, and I sent scott off. It was cold and snowing. The coffee shop was open, thank goodness.
He didn't seem too nervous, so neither was I. I grabbed some coffee and hit the road. The garmin was very confused and took me twenty minutes out of the way. I finally found directions via my iphone and made it to the first aid station with 5 minutes to spare. Unfortunately, because the race was so congested at this point, I had to park a mile away and walk, no RUN, with scott's 90 lb bag of crap (10 shot blocks, 40 gus, and half his wardrobe is HEAVY!)
I ran past hundreds of crew people and spectators to get close to the actual aid station tent and made it just in time to see the first place runner come in. Scott came just minutes after. This had me nervous because it was only mile 13. After bugging him for WEEKS about not going out too fast I had a feeling my annoying nagging didn't do much. But he looked great.
He looked great all the way through mile 50. I don't have much to comment besides walking around with that darn 90 lb bag was going to kill me before he needed a pacer.
A LOT of people passed him between mile 40 and 50. I knew he was tired, those were the miles that went up and over hope pass. He plopped down at the aid station chair and I force fed him sandwiches, soup, gu brew, and some other stuff. I asked him if he needed me, and he said I dont know maybe yeah... so I told him I could run up and over Hope's Pass with him, then if I needed a break he could run a few miles on his own and I would pick him up again and run the last 20-30 with him again.
50 miles was the turn around so he was going to have to run the course again.
He was tired on the road, but we played the "run to that tree then we can walk" game. He was excited to get back to the trailhead that heads up Hope Pass. He felt a LOT better, even though he always denies the fact that what helps him pick himself back up after a rough ten miles is switching from Gu and Hammer products to REAL food with PROTEIN, I knew I had done something good by shoving that turkey wrap in his mouth.
He climbed quickly! There were TONS of runners coming the opposite way into the 50 mile aid station, and as a pacer I felt I should probably get out of their way and stand off the trail while the pass me. BAD idea. I lost Scott. Then, and old man face planted on his way down and I had to stop for like ten minutes to help him up. I was scott's mule (carrying his water and electrolytes) so I needed to catch him, but going up a mountain fast is not easy. I thought about turning around to meet him at the next aid station, but that would be ten miles. I passed a few people and asked them if they had seen him and I knew I was getting closer. We ran into our good buddy Aaron Marks who said he had passed Scott 30 seconds ago. I stopped to try to vomit up the Subway sandwich I had only just finished minutes before leaving to pace scott and hurried up. Crap, it hurt SO bad.
I found him sitting on a rock with two spectators that had hiked up the mountain to take photographs of the runners. He looked terrible. I fed him water and electrolytes and got his butt up. We were SO close to the summit. He did just fine and we stopped for maybe 30 seconds to enjoy the view. It was still sunny out but we needed to get down to tree line fast before the afternoon storms.
One mile later and he couldn't even run. He was not in good shape. He claimed the downhills were the hard part and kept mentioning uphill training was great but downhills require training too, which he didn't realize. It started to get dark and stormy and I wanted to get him in shade before he got cold from the rain. He cocked his head sideways and followed me down grunting every time he landed. We made it to mile 55, the Hope Pass aid station. He stopped and sat on a log and had two cups of the saltiest ramen ever. I was starting to get chilly so I had some too. The Subway for lunch was finally being digested and I was feeling really great despite having done the hardest hill workout of my life trying to catch up with Scott. I hoped the man who fell didn't have to DNF.
There were no cars or crew at this aid station so we continued on right away down the mountain to the road. We passed a few runners still on there way out who were about to hear both the BEST and WORST news of their life- they were going to have to be disqualified because they didn't make the cut-off time.
Scott refused to run at this point, unless he could have something in sight to run TO, and then stop. So I would find ribbons and trees and make him run 50-100 yards and then we could walk. He wanted to stop and bend over but I told him if he kept going he could spend longer in the chair at the 60 mile aid station. He repeated the word "chair" a lot and ran with his head cocked and arms dangling. His legs would slam down on the trail because he didn't even have enough energy to keep a normal stride. I didn't think this was it, I knew he was going to come back and feel better once the salt form the ramen settled in. So I told him that it was gonna hurt, but the finish line was the chair at mile 60. We could be done then forever. That seemed to get him going.
We still averaged a 30 minute mile into the Twin Lakes aid station (mile 60). He ran the last half mile because the streets were lined with crew members and spectators who literally would not let him walk even though he may have been crying in pain. He sat down in the chair and stared into space. I came over and bent below him to remind him how proud I was of him, but I wasn't going to be a pushover and I was going to make him get up before he couldn't stand up anymore. He looked at me right in the eye and told me he was done. I knew how badly he wanted to finish this race and he knows what a DNF feels like, and I could not believe he was in that much pain that he wanted to quit. I had the feeling he would die before quitting. And that killed me. I started sobbing and told him that he had worked SO hard for this and I was not going to let him quit. He didn't even wince, he just told me again that he was done and wanted to quit. We fought back and forth and finally he agreed if we could get some warm clothes and a headlamp we could continue. I left our clothes at Fish Hatchery (23 miles to go) and we were 20 miles from there. And he was going to walk there, so it would take us at least 10 hours to get there.
I left the aid station to go find somebody I knew, and found Aaron's parents who were very sweet and lent us clothing. They asked what was wrong and I started sobbing again and told him Scott wanted to quit already. I was SO emotional, I think they were kind of confused why I was the one crying. It IS emotional though- to work SO hard for something that you would probably die for it, and then want to quit.
We warmed him up and fed him more protein and set off again. He walked slowly, and when I tried to play my "run to that tree" game it was physically impossible for him to run. He couldn't even walk fast. I knew it was going to be a rough 10 miles to the next aid station. The sun set and a lot of people passed us, but he kept going. I started crying again because I was so proud of him, after just 10 miles of the course I realized how much he had gone through, and the fact that he was continuing on really showed me how dedicated and motivated he is. I would pretend that Wes was waiting for us at the top of the hill cheering, or that his mom was running with us too, being supportive and proud. He was walking as fast as he could, even though he hurt so bad.
Soon it was pitch black. He knew we were going to have to go faster if we were going to finish in under 30 hours, and he just couldn't. He had been walking for 16 miles straight and it wasn't a matter of eating more protein, or taking a break in a chair, he wasn't going to be able to run anymore. He put his arm around me and suddenly it was so peaceful. We could see every star, there was a beautiful cool breeze, and you could just barely make out the shadows of the mountains. I put my arm around his waste and he had his around my shoulder. We walked together in silence and I knew this was it. He was going to be done at the next aid station, mile 71. I didn't care anymore, he had proved himself to be the toughest guy I know, and 71 miles was a heck of an accomplishment at 10,000 feet with those hills and mountains.
We finished the race like that, just a casual evening stroll. As we came in he sat down and I explained to the aid station workers that he had pushed his limit so far. He had come so far since he first wanted to quit, and that he was sure he wanted to be done and would not regret it.
Quitting means they cut off your wrist band so that you can't change your mind. They offered to keep it on until he had tried napping or hanging out until the cut-off time. But he wanted that thing OFF!
We walked together into the heated tent and took naps by the fire. We met some other people who dropped out in there. They were all happy- not the least bit disappointed. They knew they had accomplished so much. 50% of the runners drop out, and 35% of them drop out before mile 60. So they had done pretty well.
We hung out there until the next morning and picked up my car at the turn around. We drove a painful 2 hours back to I-70 and slept in a parking lot because all the hotels were booked. We were tired, but I was SO proud of him and Scott was proud of himself.
Here we are 12 days later... my IT band is totally screwed up. I'm struggling to keep up with the training. Scott's running more than I am (NOT FAIR- he's recovering and I'm getting ready for my 100 miler, but I need to get used to it).
When you see him give him a big hug and congrats, because he worked SO hard out there, and accomplished something totally amazing. He really is an incredible person.
We woke up at like 2:30 am, which totally sucked, and I sent scott off. It was cold and snowing. The coffee shop was open, thank goodness.
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| At the starting line |
He didn't seem too nervous, so neither was I. I grabbed some coffee and hit the road. The garmin was very confused and took me twenty minutes out of the way. I finally found directions via my iphone and made it to the first aid station with 5 minutes to spare. Unfortunately, because the race was so congested at this point, I had to park a mile away and walk, no RUN, with scott's 90 lb bag of crap (10 shot blocks, 40 gus, and half his wardrobe is HEAVY!)
I ran past hundreds of crew people and spectators to get close to the actual aid station tent and made it just in time to see the first place runner come in. Scott came just minutes after. This had me nervous because it was only mile 13. After bugging him for WEEKS about not going out too fast I had a feeling my annoying nagging didn't do much. But he looked great.
He looked great all the way through mile 50. I don't have much to comment besides walking around with that darn 90 lb bag was going to kill me before he needed a pacer.
A LOT of people passed him between mile 40 and 50. I knew he was tired, those were the miles that went up and over hope pass. He plopped down at the aid station chair and I force fed him sandwiches, soup, gu brew, and some other stuff. I asked him if he needed me, and he said I dont know maybe yeah... so I told him I could run up and over Hope's Pass with him, then if I needed a break he could run a few miles on his own and I would pick him up again and run the last 20-30 with him again.
50 miles was the turn around so he was going to have to run the course again.
He was tired on the road, but we played the "run to that tree then we can walk" game. He was excited to get back to the trailhead that heads up Hope Pass. He felt a LOT better, even though he always denies the fact that what helps him pick himself back up after a rough ten miles is switching from Gu and Hammer products to REAL food with PROTEIN, I knew I had done something good by shoving that turkey wrap in his mouth.
He climbed quickly! There were TONS of runners coming the opposite way into the 50 mile aid station, and as a pacer I felt I should probably get out of their way and stand off the trail while the pass me. BAD idea. I lost Scott. Then, and old man face planted on his way down and I had to stop for like ten minutes to help him up. I was scott's mule (carrying his water and electrolytes) so I needed to catch him, but going up a mountain fast is not easy. I thought about turning around to meet him at the next aid station, but that would be ten miles. I passed a few people and asked them if they had seen him and I knew I was getting closer. We ran into our good buddy Aaron Marks who said he had passed Scott 30 seconds ago. I stopped to try to vomit up the Subway sandwich I had only just finished minutes before leaving to pace scott and hurried up. Crap, it hurt SO bad.
I found him sitting on a rock with two spectators that had hiked up the mountain to take photographs of the runners. He looked terrible. I fed him water and electrolytes and got his butt up. We were SO close to the summit. He did just fine and we stopped for maybe 30 seconds to enjoy the view. It was still sunny out but we needed to get down to tree line fast before the afternoon storms.
One mile later and he couldn't even run. He was not in good shape. He claimed the downhills were the hard part and kept mentioning uphill training was great but downhills require training too, which he didn't realize. It started to get dark and stormy and I wanted to get him in shade before he got cold from the rain. He cocked his head sideways and followed me down grunting every time he landed. We made it to mile 55, the Hope Pass aid station. He stopped and sat on a log and had two cups of the saltiest ramen ever. I was starting to get chilly so I had some too. The Subway for lunch was finally being digested and I was feeling really great despite having done the hardest hill workout of my life trying to catch up with Scott. I hoped the man who fell didn't have to DNF.
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| Hope Pass Aid Station |
Scott refused to run at this point, unless he could have something in sight to run TO, and then stop. So I would find ribbons and trees and make him run 50-100 yards and then we could walk. He wanted to stop and bend over but I told him if he kept going he could spend longer in the chair at the 60 mile aid station. He repeated the word "chair" a lot and ran with his head cocked and arms dangling. His legs would slam down on the trail because he didn't even have enough energy to keep a normal stride. I didn't think this was it, I knew he was going to come back and feel better once the salt form the ramen settled in. So I told him that it was gonna hurt, but the finish line was the chair at mile 60. We could be done then forever. That seemed to get him going.
We still averaged a 30 minute mile into the Twin Lakes aid station (mile 60). He ran the last half mile because the streets were lined with crew members and spectators who literally would not let him walk even though he may have been crying in pain. He sat down in the chair and stared into space. I came over and bent below him to remind him how proud I was of him, but I wasn't going to be a pushover and I was going to make him get up before he couldn't stand up anymore. He looked at me right in the eye and told me he was done. I knew how badly he wanted to finish this race and he knows what a DNF feels like, and I could not believe he was in that much pain that he wanted to quit. I had the feeling he would die before quitting. And that killed me. I started sobbing and told him that he had worked SO hard for this and I was not going to let him quit. He didn't even wince, he just told me again that he was done and wanted to quit. We fought back and forth and finally he agreed if we could get some warm clothes and a headlamp we could continue. I left our clothes at Fish Hatchery (23 miles to go) and we were 20 miles from there. And he was going to walk there, so it would take us at least 10 hours to get there.
I left the aid station to go find somebody I knew, and found Aaron's parents who were very sweet and lent us clothing. They asked what was wrong and I started sobbing again and told him Scott wanted to quit already. I was SO emotional, I think they were kind of confused why I was the one crying. It IS emotional though- to work SO hard for something that you would probably die for it, and then want to quit.
We warmed him up and fed him more protein and set off again. He walked slowly, and when I tried to play my "run to that tree" game it was physically impossible for him to run. He couldn't even walk fast. I knew it was going to be a rough 10 miles to the next aid station. The sun set and a lot of people passed us, but he kept going. I started crying again because I was so proud of him, after just 10 miles of the course I realized how much he had gone through, and the fact that he was continuing on really showed me how dedicated and motivated he is. I would pretend that Wes was waiting for us at the top of the hill cheering, or that his mom was running with us too, being supportive and proud. He was walking as fast as he could, even though he hurt so bad.
Soon it was pitch black. He knew we were going to have to go faster if we were going to finish in under 30 hours, and he just couldn't. He had been walking for 16 miles straight and it wasn't a matter of eating more protein, or taking a break in a chair, he wasn't going to be able to run anymore. He put his arm around me and suddenly it was so peaceful. We could see every star, there was a beautiful cool breeze, and you could just barely make out the shadows of the mountains. I put my arm around his waste and he had his around my shoulder. We walked together in silence and I knew this was it. He was going to be done at the next aid station, mile 71. I didn't care anymore, he had proved himself to be the toughest guy I know, and 71 miles was a heck of an accomplishment at 10,000 feet with those hills and mountains.
We finished the race like that, just a casual evening stroll. As we came in he sat down and I explained to the aid station workers that he had pushed his limit so far. He had come so far since he first wanted to quit, and that he was sure he wanted to be done and would not regret it.
Quitting means they cut off your wrist band so that you can't change your mind. They offered to keep it on until he had tried napping or hanging out until the cut-off time. But he wanted that thing OFF!
We walked together into the heated tent and took naps by the fire. We met some other people who dropped out in there. They were all happy- not the least bit disappointed. They knew they had accomplished so much. 50% of the runners drop out, and 35% of them drop out before mile 60. So they had done pretty well.
We hung out there until the next morning and picked up my car at the turn around. We drove a painful 2 hours back to I-70 and slept in a parking lot because all the hotels were booked. We were tired, but I was SO proud of him and Scott was proud of himself.
Here we are 12 days later... my IT band is totally screwed up. I'm struggling to keep up with the training. Scott's running more than I am (NOT FAIR- he's recovering and I'm getting ready for my 100 miler, but I need to get used to it).
When you see him give him a big hug and congrats, because he worked SO hard out there, and accomplished something totally amazing. He really is an incredible person.
Friday, August 12, 2011
My first 14er, La Plata Peak
After a break on Tuesday to try to get rid of that over-trained feeling, Scott and I hiked to La Plata Peak on Wednesday.
We had to wake up at 5am to make sure we beat the afternoon storms. Which sucked. We drove over Independence Pass to the La Plata trail head. We set off our hike at 6:30am. I was still asleep for the first 2 miles, and freezing cold. All I wanted was my bed, but I knew it would be worth it at the top.
I woke up as we headed up to the ridge. The rocks were stacked so perfectly, my guide book said it could have been some neolithic civilization type thing. Pretty cooool.
We got to a boulder field and followed cairns to the peak. It wasn't nearly as scary as our Electric Pass experience on the edge of a cliff with scree everywhere. But bouldering with crazy wind 14,000 feet in the air. After three hours, we were at the summit!
The way down kinda stunk. It was so steep. It took a lot longer than the way up. A lot of the hike I didn't remember. Also, it was so steep and sandy that I fell like every 10 minutes.
Overall the hike took seven hours. Thursday I was so sore I didn't run or hike, but I made up for it today with a vigorous hike and long run!
We had to wake up at 5am to make sure we beat the afternoon storms. Which sucked. We drove over Independence Pass to the La Plata trail head. We set off our hike at 6:30am. I was still asleep for the first 2 miles, and freezing cold. All I wanted was my bed, but I knew it would be worth it at the top.
I woke up as we headed up to the ridge. The rocks were stacked so perfectly, my guide book said it could have been some neolithic civilization type thing. Pretty cooool.
We got to a boulder field and followed cairns to the peak. It wasn't nearly as scary as our Electric Pass experience on the edge of a cliff with scree everywhere. But bouldering with crazy wind 14,000 feet in the air. After three hours, we were at the summit!
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| 14,336 feet high |
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| Party at the peak |
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| One of Twin Lakes in the background, Leadville |
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| The Boulders and Scree to the peak |
The way down kinda stunk. It was so steep. It took a lot longer than the way up. A lot of the hike I didn't remember. Also, it was so steep and sandy that I fell like every 10 minutes.
Overall the hike took seven hours. Thursday I was so sore I didn't run or hike, but I made up for it today with a vigorous hike and long run!
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