Ice Age 50 Mile DNF, La Grange, Wi. 5/12/12

It was months ago that Western State has it's lottery. I was not in it. I was surprised to find out I had failed to qualify for the race. I had run qualifying times on several occasions, but because I often do much of my ultra running at duration races, timed events like 6 hrs or 24 hrs, none of my splits counted.

I decided that I wanted to run a 50 because I can only recall running stone cat in 2009 and no other 50s. I needed to run a 50 in 11 hours to meet this goal. Way back in January I had to decide what to do since races close fast and that is when ice age opened. I was in no shape in January. I also really dislike preregistering for events. However, the videos I saw of Ice Age made it seem worth the trip. I registered and the race closed 7 days later.

Sid had serendipitously been granted that weekend off so I was excited about flying int Chicago with him. We have been talking about visiting Chicago for some time. This would be a short visit but still fun. I booked the flights on American. This was odd because I have not flown commercial in so long I forgot how to do it. It was going to be nice for Sid to get to sleep for a change rather than fly. I got some deals on hotels for non-refundable fees. Same with the rental car.

Then I got hurt.

I have never strained or tore my plantar fascia so badly that I could not walk before. It took 2 days for the pain to begin to subside. This was 2 weeks before this 50. Really! I suspected at that moment my 50 was over. I should have dropped then, but I was not yet ready to give up hope. First, I believe the human body is amazing and can sometimes heal quickly. I find this to be particularly true of acute issues. Chronic issues take awhile to heal, while acute seem to resolve quicker. I hoped I would heal enough for an 11 hr 50.

I also struggle with the idea of how much pain I experience is psychosomatic. I know when I get high hopes for myself I also put pressure n myself. I tried to mitigate my stress by not telling too many people about Ice Age. However after my 41 mile 6 hr run, I thought maybe I could even be towards the front of the female finishers.

It is hard to be friends with ultra runners and not talk about race plans.

With all these aspiration, I had to get healthy fast. I took a light week after the injury. I still ran at least 1 mile per day to keep my streak alive.  My streak is an important source of inspiration to me that I will not abandon willingly. I moved up to 2 then 3 milers. As the days passed I was feeling better.  I totaled 16 miles that week.

Long days on my feet pushed me back a step, more so than any 1 mile shuffle did, but by last Tuesday I was up to 10 per day. I managed 3 days in a row of 10 and my foot pain continued to get better, although it wasn't gone. I logged a 50 mile rolling 6 day so I felt I had a shot at finishing this.

I looked forward to a trip with Sid even if I dropped. Wednesday night, the air force called. They were taking back Sid's days off and had to go somewhere else. Awesome.

So Friday I was off to Chicago alone. I got my rental and made the 1:45 hour drive to La Grange.


La Grange is a funny place. People are so very nice. Everyone seems to know each other. I ate dinner at a bar where people order drinks like Gimlets and Arnold Palmers. They talk about the town hall meetings. The roads have signs like "accident reduction zone. Turn on your lights" in places where the road stretches for miles without another car in sight. The asphalt has rough patches to alert you to the upcoming stop signs. It seemed like a peaceful place to live.

The prerace bib pick up was a lot of fun. There was a tribute to decades of ice age 50s with buckle displays and photos. I loved the photo of the start from 1986. It started on the road that year. You can see the rows of starters and what struck me first was that not one person carried anything. Oh wait, I lie. One dude in a half shirt carried a stick. I was told he was a special guy who sat upside lotus poses before races and ran with his lucky stick. Today people arrived with so much crap it looked like an Occupy camp. I had my bottle and wore my nathans vest so I could carry to huge set of rental car keys.

So I get to the start and the weather was great. A little split second drizzles at 58 degrees. It was a little humid. The RD says go and people go out hard. I am scared about my foot but it feels ok for now. I had high hopes the lingering pain was just my nerves and thought I was proving it. I was just sub-9 with each mile and it felt so easy. I had no complaints. I was entertained by how many runners sound like chemists out in the woods. Everyone is seeking the the secret to finding more energy within their bodies. Two women shared secrets about 5 hour energy. One man mentioned some herb that helps you burn more body fat. Two young guys discussed the value of walking.

It was fun to just listen to all the conflicting words of wisdom. . . . Until mile 6 when nagging started. . . Then 10 miles came and I couldn't deny I had begun to irritate it. I slowed down, and ran/walked through 14. Pace was still in the 10:00s. The next 5 miles included more walking than running with my brain occupied with how to calculate what mile pace I needed for an 11 hr 50. Let's see 11x 60 equals 660. 660 divided by 50. Huh? Oh I can do that in my head right now. Too hard. How about the other way. That's easier. 12 min miles is 5 miles per hour. That's a 10 hour 50. I can do that. 15 min miles is 4 mph so in 12 hours that's on,y 48 miles. That is too slow. Ok. So if I let the Garmin average pace fall to no more than 13 min pace then I should be fine.

Off I go....Run until it hurts.... Walk until it hurts.  Repeat. This was working for a bit but the pain was getting worse. By mile 19, running was too painful. I was on my way to the turn around and decided that I could not hike 30 miles and be able to continue to train so I decided I was done. I asked some volunteers how I could get back to the start. I had no one to call. He offered to drive me. I agreed but told him I needed to be sure, so I headed back out to the turn around .3 miles away. I knew I made a good choice when the pain was ranging on just that walk. I got back to the volunteer and called it a day at 22 miles.

I really needed that time to get myself composed. I was so disappointed to have to stop that I could feel myself getting overwhelmed with emotion. I really hate crying in the woods. It happens a lot to me in ultras. I am grateful to be a chick during those moments because if I was a dude it would be much harder to explain.

So I quit.

I retreated to my car and took a nap. I woke up hungry and went to the BBQ. It was free to runners. I was asked for my name and which race I completed. I quickly responded "my name is Shannon and I completed the 22 miler. I was the first one done so I won it!". The guy on my left got it. He understood I DNFed the 50 and burst out laughing and gave me credit for my positive spin on my defeat.

USA-TF 15k State Championship. Clinton, NJ 4/28/12

I wasn’t sure whether I would go to this race.  I was very busy finishing up some work during my "last week" of my grad school before this race.  I purposefully took more rest than ever this past week because I felt after my 67.5 miles last Saturday, I could use some time off my feet.  Why would I think this?  People like to remind me that resting is good?  Rest. Rest. Rest.  You run too much. You need to take it easy.  You are going to break…etc.  I hear that a lot.  Mostly from people who run a lot less than me.  I don't pay it any mind when it comes from non-runners.  I must admit I get a little annoyed when I hear it from runners who act as if they know more about what I need than I do.  Funny how people often like to tell others what to do, even if opinions are not requested.  Regardless, life was exhausting me, so I figured maybe some rest will make me stronger.

I had an average of 10 miles plus per day since 1.1.12.  I ran about 20 miles over the week, the lowest I have in a very very very long time. I got my papers done, closed my files at the Clinic, finished up organizing my therapy log, met with my supervisor for a final review and got my academic/professional life in order during my down time. I hoped I was well-rested leading up to this 15k.  If I had a great day, I could likely run sub-7 pace for the 9.3 miles.  After all, I ran a 1:28 20k only one week after a fast 50k in March.   

I started strong and hit mile 1 at 6:55.   I hit mile 2 at 13:50.  So far so good, but I could feel my legs were like bricks.  They felt so heavy and lacked spring.  Even though I didn’t break myself last weekend, I guess walking may be somehow as hard as running, since I was clearly not recovered. Or maybe resting too much just made my body too tight and not as pliable.  I was just not feeling smooth, strong, or fluid.

In hindsight, I believe if I just kept my mileage up, and varied my training paces, I would have shook out these cob-webs by race day.  Instead, I felt stiff and tight and tired.  At mile 3, I decided to just back it down and run about 7:15-7:30-ish.  People began to pass me.  I was able to run at that speed quite comfortably until mile 4 when my left PF started to nag.  This was not completely unexpected.  After my 5k two weeks back, I aggravated it enough to call off a 20 mile run, but I made it through 15 hours of an ultra and didn't have PF pain, so I felt I was ok.  By mile 5 my PF was so very angry and I knew I was in trouble.  I hit mile 6 and could not believe I was going to have to run 3 more miles on a foot that was bailing out on me. 

The pain had me rolling way out the outside of my foot.  I lost my ability to hold my pace.  If I tried to run up on my forefoot like my body wants to, the pain got worse at my heel.  I wasn’t sure if I should slow down or speed up.  I just wanted to hurry up so I could stop.  I knew I had a visible limp at this point and still miles to cover. 

I just couldn’t bear the idea of DNF'ing and felt that 10 minutes miles would be better than 0 minute miles for my psyche.  When I DNF a race to save myself injury, I get to live a physically pain-free existant between races struggling with the sense that I probably could have finished and still not have had any residual damage. I can beat myself up a lot for "quitting" especially when there is nothing wrong with my body the next day or two after I quit.  However, when I fight for the finish, and then suffer significant damage, I have to live with the ability to NOT train and race like I want to and that is equally as bad.  It is gamble for the lesser of two evils.  Sometimes things seem worse mid-race than they do later, especially in ultras, and quitting is not really necessary.  Sometimes thinks feel better while moving, like in short races, than they will feel once you stop and DNF may actually save something from reaching the breaking point.  I took a lot of DNF's last year "to help myself" and it didnt do much for my psyche or my race results.  I have finished every race this year and breaking the DNF streak became a sore of pride.  It became important for me to finish and see what happens.

From the start of this race, I kept double, triple, quadruple splitting my new tap screen (got to adjust that later), so I was missing all my lap splits, which is probably for the best.   I just focused on moving forward.  Runners tried to encourage me as they passed me…. “Come with me!" "You can do it!"  "Let's Go."  "Pick up the pace!” prompting me to respond “I’m fine.  You go on!”  People seem to think they are being helpful and motivating.  But from my position, having to force a smile and engage in a conversation about why I really don't want to tag along with them is not something I really wanted to get involved with. The nice part of me feels it would be rude to just ignore people who clearly think they are trying to help, so I offer some response.  I may be wrong here, but my sense is that  sometimes people don't want to be encouraged by those runners who are passing them.  I understand that this peculiar behavior of saying something encouraging to a person you are besting can occur for a wide range of reasons.  I am sure I am guilty of this myself, but I just try to not do it to others. 

I prefer to really cheer on those who are passing me. I figure sometimes people are training through races.  Not every race has to be a PR.  Sometime people just don’t want to discussing mid-race that they are in pain.  Some people don't want to hear how they are doing GREAT! when they clearly know they are not doing great.  I figure those passing me could be having a good day so I cheer them on. 

In this race, I just wanted to live in my misery and not have to force smiles or offer explanations to strangers who simply had good intentions and thought they were being helpful.  All I really needed was to stop moving on a painful foot.  

One runner caught up to me, but was still close to my speed.  She offered “How about we try to finish this together”. I knew her and she is usually ahead of me.  I finally reported, “You go ahead, I have some Plantar Fasciitis causing a lot of pain right now.  I just want to get this over with without doing more damage”.  She advised “Just don’t hurt yourself.”  I wondered to myself why she was even near me and then she admitted, “I have strained calf right now.”  I joked, “I’ll race you to the ice packs after the finish line!”  We leaped frogged each other on the way in. 

I was so very happy to see that park where the finish line resided. We have to run a lap around the parking lot before we get to the finish line.  I saw Beau, a runner on my Do Run Runners team. I desperately called out to him, "Can you find me some ice?"  I had no idea if he could, I just knew I needed it ASAP.   At this point, I tried to pick it up my pace, but I could not put any pressure on my toes because it tore at the heel.  I jogged around the path and finished the 15k in about 1:10:45.  Beau was there with a handful of ice. My hero!  I tore off my flats and packed it under my foot, so happy to just sit down and stop running.  I eventually figured out that if I stuffed the ice into my arm warmer, I could tie it around my foot.  Mark W., noticed I needed something for the ice. He darted off and found me a rubber glove.  I packed the ice in the glove and stuffed the glove inside the arm warmer and tied it around my foot.  I was good for a few minutes.  What else could I do?

After sitting and chatting, while secretly freaking out inside, I decided I needed to get home.  As I stood up I hoped I could walk.  I was disappointed to find that my steps were even more painful now than when running.   I knew I really screwed myself up, but I hoped I would be ok in a day or two. 

I called two ultrarunning friends on my drive home.  I like these guys.  They always encourage me to run more and never tell me to stop running when I am running well.  Both Ray and John concurred with what I should do to deal with this.  Ice, Massage, and careful deliberate stretching of the parts of the Fascia that are not painful. I now had my plan.

I thank Beau and Mark for helping me to get the ice immediately.  I am sure things could be worse if I didn’t act fast to reduce swelling and pain upon stopping. 

From now own, once I can run again, rest weeks are getting crossed off my list… well, drastic rest week.  I will still ebb and flow with my mileage, but is seems that there is no real reason for me to shut things down, even if others are uncomfortable with how much I run and constantly encourage me to "rest".  If I get hurt off a 60-70 mile week I can take it.  Getting hurt of 20 mpw is baffling.

My final time was 1:10:45 and I ended up 3^rd in my AG.  This is not a bad result considering how I felt.  Hopefully it won’t take too long to get back to training again.  

24 Hour Relay for Cancer, Hampton Virginia. 4/21/12-4/22/12

This has been a tough report for me to write.  The truth is I have started and stopped writing it several times.  I trained quite well for this event and seem to have suffered another disappointing performance regardless of my preparation.   I understand that sometimes things just don’t work out.  I believe that the 80 degree day was just too much for me to adjust to, since I was used to training and racing in the cooler north.  Regardless of what excuse I can muster to explain how I could run so well in the recent past and not be able to put things together when it matter is really not important. 

Of greater importance is the reason we go to Hampton in April.  I am on my way to 7 years of cancer-survivorship.  I have run Hampton since 2009, when I was struggling with biopsy after biopsy and fearing a recurrence.  I had not run an ultra and did not plan to that day in 2009, but I ended up staying on my feet for 100k.  I was not sure what I was doing that day, but running through the woods at George’s race changed me forever.  I came home an ultrarunner. That next week I had the tumor surgically removed and discovered it was benign. Thankfully, I was still cancer free.

Since that day, I have run many ultras.  Some very well.   Some very poorly.  When I stand at that starting line, it is almost as much of a surprise to me what will happen as it is to my competition.  I can run well off poor training,  Run poorly off great training.  Rarely does anything make complete sense. In general, good training leads to good racing (especially in the shorter stuff), but I have not been able to figure out what I need to do to ensure a great  24 hour race.  What I have figured out is that for me,  I just need to roll with the punches and survive.

This weekend was about the Race and the Team and helping to bring more excitement to a race in hopes of helping to raise more money for the American Cancer Society.  George puts on a no frills run and most of the money goes to the ACS.  He still gives out T-shirts.  He still gives out plaques.  He marks his course well and he makes sure we have water and an indoor bathroom. It is currently my favorite 24 hour, although Hinson is making a run for the title ;).

George’s race is special.  He is the only RD I know that has an Ultra Relay competition where a team of up to 12 runners get to accumulate mileage.  Last year my team set a new record at 802.75 miles

This was my second year putting together a team for the 24 Hour Run for Cancer.  It is a tedious process for me because I don’t just take the first 12 people I can find.  I don’t even really care about how far someone can run. What I really want is to put together a team of runners who will offer a kind heart, generous spirit, and endless patience, regardless of how exhausted they become.  I want a team that has some connectedness to cancer and compassion for the cause.  I want some runners that bring years of experience who can mentor the newbie runners along the way.  I want a team of peaceful people who are kind in general and passionate about running regardless of what pace they move.  

Even though my race performance bombed, I hit a home run with my team. I would like to thank John Price, Frank Lilley, Tom Gabell, Tony Mollica, Jim Plant, Mike Senko, Ladonna Kapustensky

Alanna Garrison-Kast, Kati Craig, Cheryl Lager and Tamra Jones for being part of the ultra-journey that has become my life.

I am so tremendously proud of my team. I can’t say enough about how Awesome our team mileage leader, course record holder, and this year's women's winner, Cheryl Lager is.  At 52.5 miles we were together as I was falling apart and she was just smiling and happy to be on pace.  I wish I could run the second 12 hours of a race like her.  

Tom Gabell is an inspiration as a person. Such a fighter and so freakin’ fast.  I ran the first lap with him trying to figure out how fast we were actually moving and wondering if it was humanly possible to slow him down.  

I can’t say enough about John Price, who spent many hours with me, quietly supporting and encouraging me as I tried to stay positive, while we walked.  It was so early to be walking and I was desperate to stay in a good frame of mind.  John was a rock.  He let me play with the pacing, try to add in minutes of running when I thought  I could.  He never once told me what to do, but was just present and a companion.  This is a trait I wish many more people in this world possessed.  As much as I like to talk, I was never more grateful to for the ability to simply walk in silence.

I always love the laps I get to do with Frank.  Frank was on fire!  Just months after hip surgery with his longest run of about 11 miles, he had often contemplated dropping so he would not hold back the team. I am so grateful that he came and hit that 50 mile mark!!!  Holy Cow, what a fighter!

Due the timing of our paces, and the length of the loop, I did not get to run as much with many other members of my team as I wished.  It is amazing how you can spend a whole day with people and not see them all that much. Although my path crossed with Kati, Matt, Ladonna, Mike, Tony, and Jim, never was it long enough.

One person who was a constant during my day, but not an official team member was incredible friend Tamra Jones.  I am thinking she could start a business for herself crewing people.  Although most members of the team said they wouldn’t need much help, I knew I was going to need someone to run off for coffee and mashed potatoes for me during the race.  Tamra also helped with all kinds of silly things like cutting up cantaloupe, finding crap that I couldn’t find, or letting me sit for a few minutes while she grabbed something I could have done on my own.  It was nice to have a helper.   She also managed to track all of our laps, make sure the official count was correct, take orders from other team members for little things they felt they needed.  She worked her butt off all day and still went out for a lap with me when I was at my worst and on the verge of throwing up.  

I had felt sick the entire race and I know historically that once I throw up the race is over.  I usually can get another lap done after that but my body shuts down.  It is better for me to walk and not throw up.  On that lap with Tamra, I finally got sick.  It was just only over 65 miles into the race.   

My memory escapes me but I know I ate some watermelon and tried to run again.  I ran past George who was walking with his daughter.  I was feeling so ill and was about 1 mile into the loop when I threw up everything I ate again.  My stomach was so irritated I had begun to throw up black curdled stuff I had not even eaten.  This is what happens when you throw up while wearing a head lamp. You can see exactly what you are puking and all I could think was “what the heck is that!”   Now I know to turn off the headlamp first, then throw up. 

That final lap was the most painful loop I have walked in a long time.  It took forever and I was not confident I was actually going to make it out of the woods.  Each step felt more impossible.  At the half way point, I had to sit on a bench.  I was wondering how long until someone found me if I passed out.  I found some will to get up and keep moving.  I recall trying so hard to get out of the woods and stopping at the .5 mile cone. 

I could not believe I still had an entire half mile to go.  It was amazing how far a half mile seemed.  I leaned over and threw up again.  Then like a cheerful angel, Cheryl found me stuck there, frozen in space, but hurling at the same time and I was never so grateful.  Her positive spirit was such a lift. She was frustrated about a part of her race and technically she was actually complaining about something, but even during a rant she was still incredibly positive. As she talked, I was able to move forward and focus on her issue.  Being able to think about someone else for a while helped me move on.

Once back at the HQ, I found my blanket, curled up in the dirt, b/c my chair had gotten wet, called Ray and told him I was having a bad day and going to sleep. I knew I wasn’t going back out there to run.  Once I throw up, it takes me about a day to feel better.   An hour nap wasn’t going to fix this.  I hoped to possibly walk some, so I set my alarm for 1 hour, took my shoes off tucked them under my back pack, used my pack as pillow and closed my eyes.  That is when the rain really started. The canopy was leaking onto all our gear.  All the bags of food got soaked.  My shoe bag was soaked.  I seemed to have found the one dry patch in a world of wet and had my dry shoes under my pack, so I was all good. 

Many amazing runners continued on, but I was not ready.  It was a hard fight to get out in the rain.  Tamra had left for the hotel, so I had nowhere to go get dry.  My tuper-ware container of clothes seemed ok, unlike my shoe bag.  I stayed under my warm dry blanket as the temperature dropped.   I heard some chatter around me about wolf spiders being all over the place and thought at least it is not as bad as the rats at NC24 last year.

At 2:30 am the rain slowed and I decided I wanted to head back out.  I walked to the bathroom and just that walk up the little hill caused my stomach to spasm. I was throwing up nothing but it sucked.  At that point, I let my team know that I was not going and they could go without me.

Frank and I stayed at the HQ while Jim, Ladonna, and Mike headed out.  Frank was so tired he started singing after he forgot I was there. That is one of my favorite memories of the night. He surprised himself when he turned and asked me how long I was sitting there, wrapped in my blanket, in the one remaining dry camping chair while he sang in the rain.  I had told him that I had never left. 

At some point between 4:00 and 6:00 am Jim and I decided to finally make a move to the indoor facility.  There we camped out on the floor in the warmth waiting for the sun to rise.  Alanna showed up just past sunrise, then Tamra made it back.  Kati came back from her hotel.  Cheryl was still moving as was Tom.  Everyone was there except Matt who lived nearby and drove home after he hit 75.

The team was in wonderful spirits and we had no idea how we did as a team.  It wasn’t until the ride home that we calculated that we could have possibly set a new Team Record.  George sent the unofficial results out and it was confirmed: Team Awesome 2012 set a new team record by .75 at 803.5! 

The bigger victory goes to the ACS that was offered a $15,000 donation from the race.  I hope to return next year with a new team, but I think my goal has already changed.  Rather than set my sights on hitting 100 miles, instead I would like to run a lap with each member of my team, thanking them in person for training, donating, and running with me at a very special race that I hold very dear to my heart. 

Thank you Team and George for spending that day honoring and supporting those truly fighting a battle with cancer.  After all, what we go through out there is all in the name of fun. It is nice to know that the money raised is being used to help those who really need help. 

Ship Bottom Sprint for Life 5k, 4/14/12

This race is a fundraiser for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS).  Team in Training (TNT) raises money for this organization by asking athletes to volunteer to fund raise to help the LLS fight the battle against blood cancers.  I am a captain for the Monmouth and Middlesex County TNT teams and love when a race I want to do also supports a cause I am involved with.

Bill, also a captain and fund -raising marathoner for TNT, joined me at the 5k.  He also agreed to come meet me early for some warm up miles.  I have been cutting back my mileage because my plantar fascia is feeling achy lately and I have an important race this weekend.  I still wanted to get at least 10 miles in today.  Originally I wanted 20... then 15... then decided, 10 should be enough ;)


This race started at 12:30 pm.  It was very warm by then.  People were grumbling in the parking area about the start time, but I was ready to roll with it.

I honestly feel frightened by 5k's.  I am a huge chicken at the start of each of these races.  I used to race a 5k once per week, but it has been a very long time since my last 5k.  I am more comfortable and less anxious starting a 24 hour race than I am at a 5k.  There is something about running full speed from start to finish that just hurts and there is no room to fall off pace and recover.

I lined up towards the front, decided to get a few rows back because I really did not expect to win the thing.. but would regret this later.   The race was large and when the gun went off it was as if my side of the starting line was made up of runner who were just out for a stroll.  I should have known I made a bad decision to start behind the guy in sweat pants and the row of young kids.  But hey, sometimes you just don't know what people will do.

Since the first turn was to the left, I started on the left, but it seemed the entire right side of the starting area beat my side to the first turn.  This created a situation where I was boxed in and had a lot of work to do.  It took me until the first turn to just get out from behind sweat pants guy and the children.  LOL!!

Like usual,  these slow starts are really not as bad as they seem and I was out of the pack before I knew it.  Through the windy turns, I began to pick off people and hit M1 at 6:38 and felt very good.

I was feeling good and as we hit the main straightaway into a noticeable, but not too bad, headwind I decided that I wanted to conserve a little.  We hit the circle turnaround and I counted two women ahead of me.  I saw a man heading into the circle point to someone behind me and hold up 4 fingers.  I did not look back, but I deduced that this meant the 4th place female was on my butt.  Although, I felt like I slowed down a lot, M2 clocked in at 6:46.

I could see the 2nd place woman ahead of me in the distance.  I have seen her before and I know she  runs well.  However,  I felt like this time I was moving faster than her at this point in the race.  We had a long, over a mile, stretch to go down the main street before me turned towards the finish. I focused on her and wondered if I could catch her. 

As I watched the street signs count down the distance, 24th street, 23rd, 22nd, 21st,... I knew I had to push myself to just hold the pace.  It was the longest mile and at about 17th street I could feel my form beginning to fall apart.  There was about .5 miles to go and I was proud that I held it together that long.

As I hurried towards the Starting Line (which we ran through on our way to the finish) I began to wonder if I could set a new PR.  My best 5k, 20:27, was a long time ago.  I have not run dedicated speed work. I just log LSD and do some progression runs mid-week. I was hopeful but I knew it would be close.

I could see that I was reeling in the woman ahead, but as we hit the last turn I knew she was out of reach. We both kicked it in and she finished about 5 seconds ahead of me.  As the clock ticked the time, I saw it was already 20:25 and I still had a stretch to go until I reached the finish.  I ran the last 1.1 miles in7:11 (6:32 pace), the fastest part of this race.

Looking back on my splits, I am very pleased with how I executed this race.   Although I don't feel very swift, I do feel strong.  As I told Bill at the finish line, this sport is amazing because it is honest.  If you work hard, stay healthy, and pace yourself smart, you will see positive results.  I am grateful to have been able to train very high mileage and now I am seeing how the LSD pays off even when racing the short/fast stuff!

Stats:
20:32 (6:38 pace)
15th OA
3rd Female

I won a really nice cookie jar with a note inside that said "We are proud of you" :)  (Thanks!)

Broadway Ultra Society (BUS) – 6 hour race. Crocheron Park, Queens, NY. 3/31/12

The weather report was not very favorable.  "Feels like 35 and rainy"… predicted for ALL DAY!  Ugh!  I was not looking forward to this, but I was registered and I was trained.  Thanks to some unexplained foot injury I was even a little bit tapered.  (Maybe it was a foreign body in my foot that caused an infection; or maybe it was a blister under a callus that created excruciating pain; whatever it was, it resolved itself in 1 week but lowered my mileage significantly).

I packed tons of clothes, and socks, and shoes, and things I might need, and headed up to the race with Ray and Jon. (Once again, Ray gets credit for being present with me when I need him most!)

We arrived with plenty of time for me to select my outfit for the start: Brooks T7 Racing Flats, hot weather Dry Max socks (b/c they are thin), calf sleeves for warmth, Brooks shorts, Run Happy Long sleeve Tech shirt, North Coast 24 hour Nationals T-shirt, and my convertible glove/mittens.   I lubed up the places that usually chafe pretty badly (under the band of my sports bra and where the seams of my shorts rub btw my inner thighs- ouch!)  I grabbed my blueberry smoothie (b/c I ran out of my mango smoothie) and two almond-macaroons. We parked just a few feet off course so if I needed anything I could make a pit stop.

In hindsight, as I write this, I realize that I completely forgot to eat breakfast before I left the house.  I usually have a gluten free waffle with some peanut butter and honey and a banana for the ride.  I just had a coffee and my blueberry smoothie.   I don’t feel it hurt me at all to not eat before this race. I believe this is due to me at training higher mileage.  My body seems to be adapting well at burning fuel more efficiently than I have in the past.

As the race started, I had two plans.  First to see how close I could get to 7:45 pace (7:30 lap pace on a .971 mile loop) and hold it comfortably in order to try to set a new 50k PR if the weather held off.  Second, to bank some fast laps early because the weather threatened to turn to cold showers at 10 am and running in miserable weather will slow things down. 

My first lap was about 7:40 and this put me out front of the women.  I ran few more in the lead around 7:30 -7:40 lap pace.  I threw my t-shirt to Jon as I felt warm. It was nice to have a person around for this minor stuff.  I was starting to settle into about an 8 min lap pace when I was passed by the woman who won the NY Ultrarunning Grand Prix series 5 years in a row. (Awards Ceremony for the Grand Prix took place after this race).   A guy running with her also passed me.  I sat behind them for about 10-12 laps and let her set the pace.  I am not against letting someone else lead if they want to.

The rain had already begun and it was cold.  About 2 hours in I realized I really needed to pee and this feeling was not going to pass.  It was distracting and we had 4 hours ahead of us. I did not want to leave the small pack I was moving well with.  It was very exciting to run our first 25k in 2:05 (8:03 pace).  I knew it would be unlikely that I would be just as smooth running alone.  

While in the bathroom, I realized my hands were absolutely frozen, even when in the gloves because they were just soaked.  I ran another lap and stopped at my car, frozen and miserable.  I asked Jon for my T-shirt and that helped.  I grabbed two macaroons.  The chafe under my sports bra band was horribly painful.  I lubed it again, but it was already bleeding.  This was not going to be fun.

My hands felt better in the damp air than in the wet gloves, but soon they were too cold.  I stopped again at my car, declared that "I hate ultrarunning because it is a stupid miserable sport and not fun at all!".  I made Jon promise to not tell anyone I said that out-loud. :)  I ate two more macaroons while finding a pair of dry throw away gloves that felt so much better. 

I realized that warmer clothes and the food all helped me get back into the race.  I tried some cantaloupe at the aid station and just loved it.  It was perfect and just what I needed.  Until that point, I was grabbing a plastic cup of Gatorade every 3rd lap or so.  I began to run harder just to get to more cantaloupe.

I saw Ray and told him, that I need to walk some in the second half of this race b/c I was already starting to feel miserable.  He encouraged me first to keep running, but conceded that if I needed a walk, to just keep it short and try to cruise in the rest of the miles.  I started added a small tiny walk break about ½ way around.  Between the cantaloupe on one side and the walk on the other, I had just enough things to look forward to, which helped me to keep moving. Often I skipped the little walk and kept moving.

I hit my 27^th lap (26.2) of this .971 mile course in 3:41 (8:25 pace).  I stayed moving through my 50k in 4:25 (8:31 pace).  I started 39 laps just as the clocked turned 5 hours. I knew I needed just over 41 laps for 40 miles and anything more than that would get my OA pace under 9 minute miles.

As I ran, I did not see the first place woman anywhere.  I thought about asking others if she was still out there running, but decided that I did not want to know.  Instead I wanted to know how many laps to 40 miles.  If run a good race, chances are I will win.  If don't win with a great effort, I am ok with that.  I was running so hard that I was feeling dizzy.  I was running my best.  My body felt tired, nothing hurt, but the fatigue was tough.   Someone asked "This isn't as hard as a 24, is it?" I recall responding, “Oh, this is very hard!”  I found Ray again and confirmed that 41 and change is what I needed for 40. 

As the final hours ticked down, other runners started to compliment me and tell me how great I was doing?  I wondered if this meant I was winning?  Where was that first place Female.  I continually scanned the course for her but could not see her while I focused on the laps.  I was still sub-9 for most laps.  I knew 11 minute laps would get me 40 miles and change.  I wasn't running that slow, but it hurt.   I realized that 9 minute pace is exactly 40 miles, so anything over 40 miles gives me a sub-9 pace.  That seemed surreal to me!  The marathon I ran in November was just sub-9. Many of my 7-12 miles training runs I do are 8:30 pace, but longer runs are always slower!  How is this happening?!

People asked me questions.  I grunted at them.  Once I even forced out "Cant... Speak.... Sorry."  I was so tired.  When I passed those girls again, one said cheerfully, "I know! You cant talk! It's ok!" :)

I wanted to start the small loop after I ran 41 laps, but since my 41^st lap was about 9 minutes, they sent me out on the big one for my 42^nd lap.  I was terrified about not making that lap in time, but I knew if I made it I had over 40 miles, so I pushed the pace.  I ended up with three minutes for the short loop and just kept moving as the clock ticked down.

I didn’t see the first place woman and thought I had a chance at winning this thing.  When the command to stop was issued, I notice that  she has stopped behind me.  I didn’t know if this meant I was ahead of her or her ahead of me.  She reported that she had done 2 plus some more of the small loop.  I had only gotten 1 plus some more of the short loop.  We both ran 42 big loops. Ohhhh, so close!

She ended up just about .18 ahead of me to take the OA Female Win.  Only about 900 feet separated us.  I would like to think that had I known I was gaining on her, that I would have dug to catch her.  However, had she known I was right behind her, she may have done the same.  The reality is I was hurting and working very hard.   I was dizzy and unable to even focus my vision as I ran.  I was very depleted by the end of the race. I ran a great race and so did she!  Two women over 40 miles in s 6 hour race is a great race!

I never expected to run 41.15 miles in 6 hours.  This calculates to 8:44 pace.  I am tired, but nothing hurts.

As I walked to my car, I thought about how people always seem to be working hard on the superfluous details of racing that they feel will help them get a better time, get an edge, or simply maximize their potential.  Salt caps, advil, chia seeds, pace charts, special shoes, heart rate monitors, garmins, or other fancy gear.  I have done and still do stuff like this, myself.  However, I seem to be discovering that there is one thing that I can do that makes the impact of all these other additions less meaningful and that is high volume training.  I am just 4.8 miles short of 1000 miles.   The more I run, the better I race.  I don't need to monitor much.  I eat and drink and run.  If I forget to eat, I get moody.  I don't need to worry about much except to try to run as fast as I can sustain.

In this race, I took nothing but a blueberry smoothie before the race, 6 macaroons total before and during, some Gatorade and cola, as needed and tons of cantaloupe as I felt hungry.  I didn't change shoes or socks.  I wore 4 oz flats that other people limit to 5k's. I didn't wear a garmin.  I didn't have a plan.  I just ran.  I ran tired.  I ran my butt off and I thank the miles and miles I run each week for giving me the gift of strength and endurance to tolerate another great (for me) performance for my personal log. 

Thank you for reading my report.  Your comments, feedback or varied opinions are always appreciated!

Two River Marathon. Lackawaxen, PA. 3/18/12

I wanted to run this race, just so I had a reason to say Lackawaxen out loud. :)  I wanted Sid to come with me because I really am not a fan of taking buses to starting lines. The only dog-friendly hotel was 35 minutes away from the finish area.  We booked it and drove out late Saturday.   Enzo seems to love to travel and enjoyed a night out of the house, especially when we came back with a small doggie bag of left over filet mignon and broiled salmon.

I had to register at the Finish Area which was about 12 miles from the Start.  Race was supposed to start at 9 am “near” a resort.   Sid dropped me and Jess at the start (after we found it) and we stood around waiting on the bus, which was late.  I was ok because I got to find two different bathrooms in that time period and no longer had anything urgent to do.  This tiny crowd of racers finally took off 20 minutes after 9 am. 

The first two miles were steeply downhill.  I believe I clocked a 6:57 and then a 6:40 for 1 and 2.   At some point I feared my feet were going to slip out from under me, but I think my legs were just shocked to be running that fast!  Even though this course was billed as a fast, net-downhill course, net-down does not preclude some ups along the way.  We did meander thought some rolling terrain for a little bit.  I recall thinking at least twice, maybe three times: “Was this the ONE hill they mention would be on the course?”   By mile 9, I was pretty sure that I found it as we traveled up a long steep up that kicked my butt!   I need more hill work.  

Once over that final hill, we headed down towards the finish which we passed on our way to the 7 mile out and back stretch along the river.  As the half-ers, who saw the turn around, peeled off, I was very happy to see two men ahead of me, moving about the same pace as me.  A solo 14 mile run would be rough after a hard 12 mile effort.  I was hoping to be able to focus on someone else other than how I felt.   

Just before the half, a guy ahead waved me up to him.  I am sure he was feeling that company would be nice.  Just like last time someone called me up to them, I responded by saying it was too early for me and that he should just keep it up.  I was in a comfortable but challenging pace, something I could imagine holding for a long time.  By trying to run someone else’s pace, I feared that I would be setting myself up to explode later.  

I hit the half mat at 1:38:00 exactly.  If I could hold that, I’d have a 3:16.  I had high hopes of something close to that since I tried to convince myself felt that the grade of this OUT was a teeny bit uphill and that is why I felt tired. :)   The river was running down while we ran against it, so I hoped that the way back would feel better.  

I spent a large part of the "out"trying to calculate when the "back"would start.  I knew we passed the bridge where I ditched my T-shirt at 11.5-ish miles.  I was not sure how much further the finish was once we got to head over that bridge, but I did see a 25 mile mark on the other side of the road a minute or two after the 11.5.  At the starting line, that RD said he thought the turn-around was at the “two cones around 17 miles”... then he asked if anyone needed him to bring their clothes back to finish area.  Small races rock!

17 miles was not correct, but I was so tired that I just couldn’t do the math.  This was important because several half marathoners missed their turn around mark.  At least, they had some comfort in numbers.  There was a good chance I would be solo at my turn around.  I really didn't want to blow past some cones and still have 7-8 miles to go after correcting for a mistake. 

After I convinced myself that I would not see the turn around until after 18 miles, I realized I was making up some ground on the two guys ahead of me.  By mile 17 a guy in black who was really moving well flew past us.  His energy was contagious and I passed the two guys in front of me.  I could not move as quickly as the guy in black, so I settled on just pulling away from those behind me. 

I was pleased to see Jess in the lead and on her way back.  I was hoping that I might be second, but before the turn around I saw #2 female moving well and already on her way back.  Maybe I would see her on the way in and feel motivated? 

Unfortunately, from the turn around all the way to the finish, I ran alone.  Spectators consisted of one creepy guy seeming to pretend to mend his fence as he stood in the bushes less than a foot from the shoulder holding some pliers.  I saw him there on the out and the back and the fence seemed fine to me.   Three people were standing outside of a corner store, or maybe they were loiterers?  They didn’t cheer or seem interested.    

I spent the balance of the run trying to not step on road-kill, or in the alternative, trying to not become road-kill as the speeders hauled up and down the road.  That kept me busy through 22 miles and by that point I was dying of thirst.  The temps went from 42-65 during the 3 hours I was out there.  I was struggling now with 2 to go.  Some Gatorade would have been nice, but there was just water the entire way.  I had 2 gels that I already took en-route.  I was feeling the legs get heavy, my pace had slowed to 7:50 and I was just hoping to see some sign that I was getting close to being done. 

Finally there was that mile 25 mark again!  I was at 3:10.  I knew I needed to be there by 3:05 to have a shot at a new PR.  It seemed like I ran forever after mile 25 before I saw the bridge to turn towards the finish.  I turned and saw mile 26 on the ground and three people waiving me on.  I could see the park and the shoot and realized that if I picked it up I could break 3:20.  

Official time: 3:19:14

3^rd place Female out of 8 women :)

5^th place overall… out of 16 total! LOL!!

Small races are the best!

Miles for Music 20k. USA-TF NJ State Championship. 3/11/12

I raced last week.  A 50k.  I ran a PR.  It hurt.  I recovered. I ran 70 mile miles in the next 6 days. I still showed up to race NJ’s USA-TF State Championship 20k 7 days later.  

I agreed to run my first race as part my new Team, the Do Run Running Club founded my Mark Washburne, the president of the United States Running Streak Association.  I met Mark at a Cupid Chase 5k a few years ago and he encouraged me to try streaking.  It didn’t work out for me back then.  However, 2012 has some promise.  Mark’s team looked like it needed more females, so I figured at the least I could be present and even if I had a bad day maybe I could still help the team compete.   

I wasn’t sure what to expect from my legs, but I had some guidance.  In consideration of my marathon split from the 50k, the “predictiors” tell me I should ideally be able to hold a 7:35 pace.  Last year, I raced a PR 50k and then raced a half the following week at 7:35 pace.  It seemed reasonable to shoot for that pace again, but I didn’t log a 101 mile week before last year’s half like I did this year.  I was a little concerned that I was going to have trouble holding the 8:09 pace for 20k that I was able to average last weekend.  I can honestly say I started off a little scared. 

Weather was confusing.  Maybe it is just me, but the National Weather Service has been blatantly lying to me lately when it comes to their “Feels Like” predictions.  It predicted that at 9 am it would feel like 25 degrees.  I am not sure about most of you, but that means tights to me.   However, someone once said to me “Shorts are for Racing, Tights are for Pacing!” and that just stuck.  I don’t know if it was an original rhyme or if this is some rule that I never heard before or after, but I think about it when I dress for cold weather races.  Figuring that I was not really expecting to be “racing” today, I threw on my tights.  As a last minute decision, I also threw my compression calf sleeves and a pair of shorts in my bag.

After getting my race packet, I spontaneously devised my new “face test” for how to dress:  If my face feels numb, then tights.  If my face feels fine, then shorts.  It doesn’t rhyme, I know.   My face felt fine, so I rushed back to my car and threw on my shorts and calf sleeves and my fresh out of the box properly sized bright yellow, black, and white T7 Racing flats.  I stripped off my jacket and threw a t-shirt over my favorite long sleeve Brooks Tech shirt (I have no rhyme to guide me about upper body dressing).  Last call for clothes in my car left me leaving with my favorite gloves that convert to mittens!

Off to the chilly start, I stood in the crowd wondering how to manage the pacing. Someone yelled go. The densely packed crowd began to shift forward and move.  I tucked behind a tall guy who's Garmin was beeping....beeping...beeping... I thought about asking him what the beeps means, but decided I really didn’t want to know.  I moved comfortably and didn’t feel like I was working hard.  I wondered if I was running really really slowly and that was why it felt easy.  The amount of people ahead of my surely suggested that I was not going out too fast.

As we moved up the slight incline into the wind, M1 approaches.  It’s a 7:03 and into a breeze!  It was fast, but I felt good, so I just kept moving.  M2 comes and it’s a 7:08.  No way!  Now I figure I am banking some time for that 7:35 average.  I felt strong and tall (which is ironic since I am just under 5’2”).   I hit M3 at 7:04. Nothing hurts so I don’t feel the need to back down.  5k clock reads 21:57.  I LOL! because had this been a 5k, I would not have bet money on me breaking 22 minutes a week after a 50k PR and 100 mile training week. I take advantage of my positive energy and the wind at my back.  M4 is a 7:03.  This is starting to feel surreal.  I get a rush when I dial in a pace and it just keeps on happening.  It is hard to run perfect splits without a Garmin.  It was just me and my Timex clicking off 7:04’s … so sweet. 

We start lap 2, with the wind still in our face.  I know it will not stop until that first turn around well over 1 mile into the distance and up the gradual incline.   I start to worry that I over-estimated my ability and decide to try to relax a bit.  I pass M5 in 7:09. The next mile starts to feel hard and now the work begins.  M6 7:12.  Ha! 7:12 was the pace of my best half marathon.  I still have a shot to average that by the end of the run or even better it.  The 10k reads 43:39.  I am getting tired and not sure if I can hold low 7s for much longer.  But as we turn around and hit the decline again with the wind from behind, I pep up.  M7 7:07.  

I begin to catch a woman who was pulling away from me earlier.  I decide to pass her with some authority to see if she comes along.  She does not.  Good because it was too soon to start racing it in for me. M8 7:06.  I know I have the “wind in my face” section to do again and I did not want to mess up the race by making a move too soon.  I try to maintain my rhythm and clock M9 7:04. 

As I pass M9 my Timex reads 1:04 minutes, I realize that I can break 1:30:00 for 20k if I keep it together.  The 15k clock reads 1:05:50, not too far off my 15k PR of 1:04.  However, we are heading back up the incline into the wind and I decided this is not my favorite part of the course.

I am gaining on another woman, who glances back and sees me.  She calls out something.  I have no idea what is it.  I don’t respond because I am trying to sit back and conserve energy for a shot at a “big finish.” M10 7:13.  She calls out something else and waives for me to catch up to her.  I don’t know her and I suspiciously wonder why she is encouraging me to hurry up on the crappy, windy, slightly uphill part of the course. I was right at my red-line at the moment and did not want to blow up trying to catch someone with over 2 miles to go.  I think to myself “Ignore her and run YOUR race.”  She waives me up again.  Finally, I call out, “Don’t worry about me. I am just fine. Thanks!”   

We hit the first and now last 180 degree turn and I decide to gradually make a move on the chick who was trying to get me to run harder earlier.  I pass her on the decline and expect her to hitch a ride along side since she was so interested in running with me just a few minutes before. With less than 2 miles left and no more wind, I was now ready to race, but she doesn’t come with me.  I wonder if she is saving herself and setting up to kick past me at the end.   I can't worry about her and look ahead to the guy in orange moving well.  I try to mirror what he is doing.  I hit M11 in 7:10 and feel ready to leave behind what I have left in my legs.  Orange guy picks up his pace.  I do too.  I start looking hard for  that M12 mark.  There is a sign.  Could it be?  So soon?  No, of course not!  It is some sign telling someone to "Run Fast!" or something like that.  Then I see it and hit M12 at 6:50.  I am thrilled.  I knew I had opened it up my stride.  If that girl passes me now then she deserves to because I am not making it easy. 

Four tenths to go and I can’t contain my own enthusiasm!  I let out a little hoot and holler.  I become that annoying girl who tries to encourage the people I am passing to come with me.   I feel compelled to report the remaining distance to all in my vicinity by yelling out “Only tenths to go!! Whoo hoo!”   But where is that darn finish line!  My watch says 1:26:xx.  Holy Cow! I know I am breaking 1:30 but I am not sure how much is left. 

Finally, I spot the the guy with the sign with the instruction to “Turn Left to Finish!”  I turn, and see the clock.  1:27:55… 1:27:56…1:27:57… Oh Crap, I am not going to make it! I try with everything I had.  Apparently, as per the race photography, I even put on my war face :) but I just couldn’t make it before it flipped past 1:28.  When I got through the shoot and stop my watch it reads 1:28:03…. Ooooo, so close! 

Official results have me at 1:28:07 and 7:06 pace!   As it was a State Championship Race, my 1:28 got me 18^th place female and 3^rd in my age group.  Women’s Open Do Run Runners did not place as a Team, but I was really happy to learn that I actually was the top female runner for us for the day.  That will likely never happen again, so I will enjoy it while it lasts. :) 

Thanks for reading.

USA-TF 50k Nationals: Caumsett Park, LI 3/4/12

Last year at the USA-TF 50k National Championship, I had a great race.  It was a surprising performance that I can only attribute to going into it well-rested and dialing into a perfect pace. In 2011, I ran a 4:15 for the 31 mile race and took 8^th place.  By April, I was sick with liver failure from a medication that was supposed to help me.  It took a while to recover and my fitness and motivation took a big hit.  I focused on school and work for the rest of the year.  I did very little racing that I was incredibly proud of,  except for winning a 24 hour race after some tornadoes sent most of the field home and surprising myself at a 6-hour race where I managed a 4^th place finish.  I spent most of 2011 suffering from my painful plantar fibromas that just never seemed to get better.  After cutting down my training to no avail, I knew the problem wasn’t from running TOO MUCH, it was from running TOO LITTLE.

At the 2011 24 hour National Championships, I ran in great pain the entire way.  At 10 miles into the run, my fibromas felt irritated. I already knew I was in trouble. Just hours into the run, I saw Dr. Lovey and he told me to stop by the med tent to see the podiatrists who would work on my feet. Every 2 hours or less I was back in the tent getting worked on.  They really saved my race, but by mile 85 or so I was done.  Before my compulsion to quit overcame my desire to fight on, I saw Dr. Lovey and walked with him.  He told me about his pain.  He complemented my running form (when I was able to run) and then advised, “Sometimes to get over something like this, you just have to start over from the beginning.”  This was back in September and his words echoed in my mind for months.

On January 2012, I started over with a 5 mile trail run at 11:36 pace. It was hilly.  It was slow.   But later that day, I ran 5 more miles at 10:36 pace.  I like the short slower runs that were over before my feet got a chance to hurt.  The next day, Monday, I got up before work and ran 3 miles, then 5 more that night.  The small goal of 3-5 miles of pain-free running seemed so pleasant.  I did very slow distance runs on the weekends.  Running was becoming fun and relaxing again, instead of a stress.  

My mileage quickly climbed to 60, 70, 80 miles.  Mid-January, I ran the Croom 50k just to see if my feet could tolerate 31 miles if I took it slow.  I wasn’t focused on racing but rather just running about 10-11 minute per mile or slower and taking a break between laps.  I finished in just under 7 hours.  I realized I would need to drop about 3 hours from that time by March to run like I did at the 50k Nationals last year.  That seemed ridiculous, but I didn’t dismiss it as impossible.

By February, I was able to log 50 mile weekends and 85-100 weeks.  All pain free.   Nothing was very fast, so I started adding progressions during some morning weekday runs.  My average pace was still slow, but I was ending most runs at a low to sub-7 pace.  I felt good.

But March 4 would be the test.   I wanted to see what high volume could do, even though I did very few 15-20+ milers at a "helpful" pace.  Most of my LSD was quite slow.  Most of my faster runs were quite short.  On 2/29, I even ended up in the Emergency Room with a serious allergic reaction causing my face and throat to swell.  This did not make a good formula for running an 8 minute pace for 31 miles.  However, I decided I had to take the risk.  I had to go for it. Sub-8's gave me a short at sub-to-low 4 hours for a 50k and that sounded nice.

I met Ray K in the parking lot.  Every one of my best 2011 races had one common denominator:  Ray.  He has been my ultra-guiding light since I meet him at the 24 hour Nationals in 2009.  He knows me.  He knows how I train.  He knows when I am on a roll.  He knows when I am crumbling.  He knows what to say to reverse my internal combustion (or create some internal combustion/? I am not sure.  Do cars run on internal combustion? I will have to ask Ray.)  He has been able to say things to me in the midst of implosion that has gotten me moving well again.  There have been days that even he couldn’t help me.  However, knowing that he was there gave me peace of mind.

The gun went off.  My plan was to run with a mindlessness that allowed me to focus on the moment I was in.  For miles I felt smooth and strong and easy.  Mile 1 was 7:44.  It felt easy.  We got chatty in mile 2 and slowed to 8:00, but recovered by mile 3.  The first lap was 24:50 and it felt too slow.  Each of the next 5 laps I worked on slowly speeding up my pace and did so by seconds per mile only.  I hovered around the mid-low 24 minute 5k for 7 in a row.  At lap 6, I have goosebumps and visions of seeing low 4 hour mark on the clock.  I could feel myself doing something amazing. I knew I worked hard, although not necessarily smart for a 50k.  I thought about how I managed a 100 mile training week earlier than I planned.  My feet felt numb, but not in pain.  My form was still fluid.  I thought if I can just make it to lap 9, I got this. 

But as I hit the back side of lap 7, I started to falter.  I could feel my body weakening.  I took the gel I had in my pocket and hoped it could revive me.  I was still moving.  Only once before had I ever run 31 miles non-stop and it was here.  I wanted that again, but I wasn’t so sure I would make it.

By lap 8 my arms started going numb.  My posture felt contorted.  I couldn’t find a reason to smile except that I knew the first half of the loop was kind to me and helped me recover from the mid-back part.  I cruised along, felt better and then hit the "rolling" section, which beat me down.  Lap 8 marked my first 25+ minute 5k split of the race.  I didn’t care.  I knew they would get worse from here. 

I started lap 9 feeling like I was going to die.  I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to finish 6.2 miles.  My stride was shrinking.  My legs were cement.  The splits were jumbled in my mind.  I no longer knew what my projected finish time would be, but guessed if I slowed to 30 minutes per 5k for the last 2 laps, I could still finish under 4:20.  I was just not fully confident I could actually run that fast.   I was no longer looking at mile splits, fearing the worst and not wanting proof.  People called my name and I couldn’t find a bit of energy to respond.  I believe I grunted at one guy and he laughed at me.  Ok, that made me smile.  I finished lap 9 as Byron Lane finished his 10^th.  I wished I could be him, finishing as the clocked turned 3:45.  I figured if the last lap took me an hour I could still break 5 hours!  I was feeling that low, but I was still “running” although it feel like I was running in mud. 

I hear Ray in the distance, yell out “Come Catch me!”  He was on his way out while I was coming in.  I know I looked in his direction, but everything looked blurry and I was not sure where he was.   As I ran from the start-finish and off into the distance, I felt surreal, overcome with light-headed dizziness, my legs buckled.  I was going to hit the pavement.  I had visions of being scooped up off the asphalt by emergency medical techs.  I had to walk a few steps to get my vision back. No!!! Grrr!!!  I walked.  Damn it!  Even walking a few steps, my legs felt like rubber bands that I could not control.  I felt disappointed in myself for breaking my stride, but after a few second I realized walking was just as hard as running and I found the will to get moving.  I did not walk a single step the rest of the race.

I could barely open my stride, but I was moving.  I made it all the way around the park and heard Ray again call out:  “You are going to PR!  Just 3 tenths to go!  Kick now!”   I really tried to will myself to kick.  I am certain I did not slow down, but I am not sure I really picked up the pace.  I have never felt so bad in a race in my life.  Despite the last two laps feeling slow, one was at 8:48 pace and the other was 9:00.  This was better than I thought it was.  I even managed to barely snag a new 50k PR at 4:13:04.  

I don’t like the feeling of falling apart a race.  It is incredibly painful.  However, I credit the higher volume training for keeping me in the fight.  I have never fought so hard for a finish line.   I was able to tolerate so much more distress that I reached new level of fatigue.  I never did collapse, but I was very close for a moment.  I am incredibly proud that I rediscovered my ability to fight.  Because I made it to that finish line, I earned 7^th place in the USA National 50k! What a great day for 10 x 5ks in the park. 

Getting to the Croom Zoom 50k: Plane maked unplanned stop...

 "Plane makes unplanned stop at Atlantic City International Airport"

A few months ago, Sid wanted to plan a trip to see his mom before the Air National Guard ships him somewhere overseas for a few month later in 2012.   He took it upon himself to find me a 50k to run in Croom Park (called something else, but we call it Croom) as part of this trip. Sid knew this park as he used to race motocross races there back when Fox sponsored his racing.

We planned to start in Summerville SC (to see V.),  then to Brooksville, Fl (to race Croom), then head over to Deltona (to see Marcelo), then to Boca Raton (to see Sid's mom), then to Key West (to race a half and see Kati) and then home.  Leaving Enzo is not an option, so Sid rented a Mooney and we packed up our gear, bought Enzo his own kid sized Ferrari suitcase from the Ferrari store (seriously the dog is spoiled!) and loaded up 10 days of dog food, toys, and other dog things, and got ready to go.

We departed Sid's Aero-club airport on Thursday January 12 at 3:48 in Instrument (IFR) flight conditions with a low ceiling of 400 feet (meaning the clouds and weather prevented us from seeing where we were going).  Due to some winds high up, we ascended only to 4000 ft and planned to stay there until we got to air with less turbulence higher up.  Generally we fly over 8000 feet when traveling.


Because there was rain on the ground when we departed, but in the air as we ascended would get colder, our biggest concern was possible icing on our winds, which can be dangerous.  As we flew up through the clouds I was asked to watch the wings.  I was happy to see the rain running over the wings and not freezing to them. Sid asked "How are the wings?"  I said "Great" as we broke through the clouds into the bright rainless sky. I felt that we had begun out trip and were on our way! 

Sid attempted to engage the Autopilot, could not get it to engage and mumbled something about working that out later.  He continued to plug in all the way-points to Summerville, SC into the navigation system. I did the same on my GPS.   Like a good boy, Enzo was curled up in his doggie sleeping position in his seat in the back.  He travels well, either sleeps or looks out the window.  We stuff his ears with cotton to help him not experience the painful annoyance of the prop noise. 

However, even with his ears stuffed with cotton it seems he heard something that caused him to react like he does at home when I set the firealarms off during my regular toast-burning episodes.   He started yelping, whining, and getting antsy in his seat, like he wanted to get out of the plane.   I tried to tell Sid that Enzo is acting crazy, and discovered my headset had failed and I could not communicate. I looked at the panel and all the digital readouts were scrambled and then went blank.  Sid attempted to communicate with me and he could not.  He tried to communicate with the tower and had nothing. 

Anything that was controlled by electric inside our plane was out.  We had our prop so we could fly, but we could not advise anyone of our location, our plans to deviate from our IFR course or get feedback about whether any planes were around us in the clouds. Our transponder was still running on battery power and able to let others know we were in the air, but that would last only so long. We were not going to descend blindly in to the clouds below because we could not make an IFR landing at any airport since you  need to see the ground to attempt to land on it. 

Without Sid's ability to remain calm as he dug out his back-up hand-held radio, this situation could have easily escalated to panic mode (for me).   With no autopilot set, the ride was bumpy. Sid and I searched the horizon, but all that we saw were clouds that eventually cleared.  Sid was able to make intermittent verbal contact on his handheld and asked ACY where the nearest airport with VFR (visual) condition was so we could land. 

Because we could fly a while if necessary to any airport that was clear, he advised that we were having "some equipment failure" and needed to land at the nearest airport that did not require us to use our instruments.   ACY advised that they were the closest airport with no weather issues.  Sid was not sure they understood, since we just left and were clearly in IFR weather.  He repeated, they confirmed and then we could see that the cloud shelf broke just before Atlantic City.

As Sid made a hard turn towards Atlantic City, I used the Garmin he lets me play with to plug in a direct route to ACY as a backup navigation devise to Sid's compass-based navigation.  As long as the Garmin had battery power, we could see the map and confirm in general where we were headed.  ACY  gave Sid a compass heading and he used the GPS to confirm his compass heading was correct.

Because we were close to ACY and needed to drop altitude to land, Sid had to descend as rapidly but as safely as possible.  At this point alarms were intermittently blasting inside the plane and Enzo had shaken out his cotton balls.  He was miserable and scared.  I had more cotton next to me and he sat still while I repacked his ears.   He began to bark and whine at the alarms.

Because the landing gear was electric, Sid had to crank it down by hand.  Although he could have delegated this task to me, it is more Sid's nature to just take care of business and ask for help only as needed.  I was busy trying to calm down Enzo whose barking was adding to the intensity of the situation.  Sid was busy holding the plane level while quickly descending with one hand, while cranking down the gear with the other, while intermittently talking to ACY when able to hear them since even the emergency radio was not working perfect.  I dont think I have ever seen Sid move so smoothly with such purpose.  He was not thinking, just acting and I did not interrupt.  It was clear he knew exactly what needed to be done.

As we were parallel to the runway, we were still too high and too fast.  The stall alarm was now constant and incessant. I wondered if that meant Sid was doing this on purpose or if the plane was stalling out because of some issue with power to the prop.  I was not about to ask any questions but rather just waited for him to instruct me.  

After he secured the gear, he gave a bit more power and he lined us up with the runway.  The firetrucks were coming from all directions.  Sid called out to me "They shut down the airspace.  Those Spirit pilots are going to be pissed  LOL".   He then more seriously, he said "The gear appears to be down and locked but I dont trust anything right now, so tighten your belt and be ready".


It seemed to take forever as he gently lowered the plane over the runway and as soon as felt the impact and did not hear grinding metal or see any sparks, I knew we were ok.  We cruised to a stop and were greated by three firetrucks.  We advised that we could park it and once directed to our spot, we exited the plane.   Enzo was like a bullet out the door, still barking and panicked. I may have even seen him kiss the ground, but I cant be certain. He jumped up to greet the emergency crew who noted "We thought we heard a dog barking in there!" 

It was 4:15, and only less than a half hour since take-off and we hadn't even made it out of NJ.  With my parents living 45 minutes north of ACY,  I gave them a call explaining "Sid noticed something odd about the plane and he wants to get his checked out" :)    I came back in and Sid asked "What did your parents say"  I told him, "My mom says I am not allowed to play with you anymore" :)  Then I advised that I told them the plan had an issue but he could explain what he wanted once they got here.
A hour later, Enzo had made friends with the entire general aviation airport staff.  My parents came to get us, Sid gave them the details, and we drove off leaving the plane for maintenance to assess in the morning.

Friday morning came and we were advised that alternator failed and parts could not be shipped for a few days.  We tried to find another available airplane that Sid was checked out in and able to fly. Our regular planes were all rented or in service.  After a 4 mile run at Enzo's favorite park by my parents house, my dad drove sid to our initial airport to retrieve his car and off we went to drive the 17 hours to Tampa, unfortunately skipping our first planned destination of Summerville so that I could make it to the Croom 50k race scheduled for Sunday morning.

Croom Report will follow...