Back on singletrack

Much of my winter was spent training for a road marathon, which became a half marathon thanks to the flu. I got sick in March and missed 3 critical long runs in a row. Next fall, I WILL get my flu shot, thankyouverymuch. To the point--running on asphalt is kind of boring. The race is over and I have a sparkly medal to send to my I Run4 buddy:

So now it's time to get back to the woods. There aren't any races on my radar so I can focus on gaining strength and maybe building up some speed.

I've missed running in the woods. This fact became more apparent this morning, when I woke up with part of a "song" about trail running in my head. Without further adieu, may I present:

An Ode to Trail Running (to the tune of America the Beautiful)

O beautiful for singletrack,

For random waves of pain,

For purple bruises on my knees

And mud and rocks and rain!

Trail running! Trail running!

My heart belongs to thee.

It feels so good to run through the woods-

We feel that we are free!

Maybe I'll see you out there!

Marathon Woman

I did it!

I actually ran an actual marathon!  More than a marathon—I ran 26.46 miles because it was a trail race and they tend to be less exact.  I still can't quite believe that I really did it.  There are pictures on Facebook, though, so it must be real. 

During my training, I covered each of the trails on the course at least twice, so I was able to put together a plan for running and hiking on race day.  The week before the race, I practiced getting up at 5 am so I wouldn't be as dopey on the big morning.  It didn't help my attitude during the week—I am definitely NOT a morning person.  But race day dawned slightly overcast (perfect for running) and I was up and making coffee by 4:45 am.  Out the door by 5:45, but my car started overheating when I was almost there.  I turned the fan up and kept rolling.  I figured if the car died, I wanted to get as close as possible before starting to walk (or trying to hitch a ride).  The car made it to the parking area at the resort (whew!) and I found someone to take my “before” picture.

A little stressed but starting to refocus

 While I was engaging in the traditional “standing in line for the porta-potty” ritual, I got a fist-bump from someone else who had run this particular race as his first marathon a couple of years previously.  My timing continued to be lucky as I only had to stand at the start line for a minute or two before the gun went off. 

Here's a link to the map of the course, if you want to see it.  The initial trail through the resort was fairly narrow and the resulting bottleneck slowed us down, but we were out on a paved road pretty quickly.  We had a little over a mile to find our pace, then we hit the park and the dirt trails.  My race plan included walking the first trail (The Trough), since it goes right up the side of the ridge, but I did run some parts of it.  What goes up must come down, so we went down Buck and Hotel, both fairly tricky trails—steep with lots of rocks, roots, twists, and turns.  I caught up with a woman who was going just a bit slower than I felt like running, so I stayed with her on Hotel and Four Gorge.  My usual technique is to try to run the first half of a race with someone who is going a little slower than me, which keeps me from wearing myself out too early.  She would get ahead of me on the uphill parts and I would catch her on the downhills.  Once we got to the flatter parts (Tuck-a-way and Enchanted Forest), I got ahead of her and stayed ahead.  I ran Little Bell and Schoolhouse without seeing anyone except a couple of guys fishing in a boat on the cove.

A mile or so after the halfway point (on Arrowhead), I caught up to an older gentleman.  He was going to let me pass him, but I wasn't going quite fast enough.  He was less chatty than my previous race buddy, so I concentrated on running.  Sometimes he got ahead for a while but I would always catch him.  I was certain that my earlier running buddy would catch me on the long uphill (Brushy Mountain—2.5 miles of up up up starting at mile 19—yuck), but she didn't appear.  I met a college student who was running her first marathon and a woman who had come from Virginia Beach to run the race.  Eventually, I caught up with the gentleman and passed him when we started heading downhill again. I had tried a new technique going up the long hill (yes, I know you're not supposed to do that during a race, but after hiking that hill a couple of times I discovered that my muscles would shorten up during the hike so I wasn't able to run once the terrain changed).  The long uphill was a fire road, so there was plenty of room.  I occasionally turned around and hiked backward, then ran a few steps before dropping back into my steady hiking pace.  When we got to the downhill part, I was much better able to run than I had been on my training runs.  The long downhill trail (The Gauntlet) was narrow and rocky, but I ran it better than I expected.  At mile 23, I was getting really tired and a little whiney, but I pictured my running buddy's grin which always helps to keep me going forward.

I Run 4 Joshua cuz he's awesome!

Just a couple of miles of slow and steady uphill (Horsepen), one last water stop, some paved road, and some slightly confusing trails through the resort property and I was done. Twenty minutes faster than I had expected and only 10 minutes slower than my dream goal!  Though honestly, I had to pee so badly by the time I hit the finish line (no porta-potties on trail race courses!), that I look grumpy in my finish line picture and the lady who hung my medal on me told me to smile.  I flashed her a grin, then found my way to the porta-potty at last.  My regular running buddies were supposed to be at the end, but I didn't see anyone.  I grabbed some food and found the college student and my first race buddy and congratulated them. I was starting to wonder if they had closed the resort property so my friends couldn't get in, so I hiked back toward my car to find my phone.  I ran into a couple of my friends on the way.  I had finished so much earlier than expected, they were still getting into place!  We hung out at the finish line and cheered for the last couple of runners, and my buddies gave me a couple of cool gifts, including this magnet:

My friends are the coolest!

 

For the next couple of days, all I did was eat and rest and admire the slogans and drawings on my car (The Cove = Conquered).  It would have taken a serious emergency to get me to run.  It's been over a week now, so I'm hoping I can run a little this week and get back to my usual routine next week.  But holy cow, I'm a marathoner now—can you believe it?!?!

Heavy medal ;-)

Critters

First Bunch of Critters:  Viruses.  There is some sort of cold/flu virus going around our area.  The symptoms aren’t particularly horrible but it leaves you feeling completely exhausted.  I was sick for at least 2 weeks, home from work for one of those weeks, and I’m still feeling pretty wimpy.  It thawed enough on Sunday for me to at least try to do some trail running, but it was more of a hike interspersed with a bit of jogging.  Baby steps.  Yuck.

Second Bunch of Critters:  Brain Chemicals.  Part of being sick and exhausted was an inability to ignore my seasonal depression.  My favorite technique for dealing with SAD is to simply be completely unaware of the depression.  I cruise along like a blindfolded tightrope walker, getting things done in spite of the yawning abyss below.  “Don’t look down” is my motto from January until May.  However, any real drain on my energy (see First Bunch of Critters above) makes it tough to maintain my forward momentum.  I’ve had a few really unpleasant days lately, but at least I got a decent poem out of it:

Just Before the Dawn

Lying awake
With a mouthful of the unsaid.
No tears, just a grey heart
And a vague wish for sleep
In the deep charcoal
Of 0dark:30

Yeesh.  Hey, don’t let that get you down—it’s just the winter blues, okay?  C’mon Spring!!

Third Bunch of Critters:  Adoptable Dogs and Cats.  In December, I started volunteering at a local no-kill shelter.  I had to skip a couple of weekends because of the bleeping virus, but I’m back on track now.  So far, the cats I have most wished to adopt have been adopted by someone else.  Bella is always relieved to hear that bit of news.  Since she is “allergic” to dogs, I won’t even consider adopting any of them.  I managed to talk a couple of friends into walking dogs with me on Sundays, just to get the poor critters out of the kennels (and some of them need real help learning to walk on a leash).  It’s not always fun or convenient, but I love playing/cuddling/giving treats after the work is over.  Doing this distracts me from my own whining.  It’s so comforting to see the cats settling down to happy naps once the cages are clean and fresh or to watch a dog relax into the back seat of the car after a good walk in the woods.

In looking for a poem that I’ve always used as inspiration for getting out of my own head, I found this blog post.  Go read it—it’s pretty short so I’m sure you have time.  It includes the poem as well as a couple of very good ideas:

• PTSD and depression can be tackled without medication, but not without reaching out to others...
• Happiness always follows a good deed, if only for a moment, but that's how we live anyway--moment to moment one day at a time.

“Do something for somebody, quick!”

Decided

No Magic 8 ball required, but Facebook did play a key role in the decision making process.  On Monday, I was still waffling about signing up for the series of trail races.  The group that puts these races together posted on their Facebook page that there were only a few spots left, even though the event isn't until January.  A little further down my news feed, I discovered that one of my original running buddies had signed up for a very cool program called IRUN4 that matches runners with disabled adults and children.  The runner dedicates workouts and races to their buddy/coach, and most of the communication happens through Facebook.  The pressure was on to make a decision, and a whole new reason to get back into races had presented itself.  When the universe lines things up that neatly, what else can one say but "why not?!"  I sent in my request to IR4 and my entry form for the race that very day.  I still haven't decided if I'll say anything to my running buddies, but there's always the Magic 8 ball for that.


(By the way, the first race in the series is a 10k, NOT a 5k.  I'll have to start training a little harder during the holiday season than I had previously planned.  Good thing I'm tough--ha!)

Decisions, decisions

Wow, it’s been an awfully long time since I wrote anything.  If anyone is still out there, I’m in the midst of a quandary and could use some other perspectives.

A couple of months ago, I announced that I was through with races.  I ran a half marathon with someone and some comments were made that caused me to realize that I don’t want my running buddies to feel like they are being held back if they run with me, and I don’t really want people to have to stand around and wait for me to finish.  I decided that Slowpoke Sarah would rather be support crew at the races than feel like that again. 

However…

Most of my running buddies are not trail runners.  We have a wide range of asphalt trails in town and their training groups use those much of the time.  I’m perfectly happy to run in the woods by myself and they prefer to run with others.  There is a group in the area that puts together a series of trail races, starting with a 5k in January and ending with a marathon in June.  I have run a couple of their races in the past, and they have been fairly informal and fun but really tough.  I’m considering signing up for the whole series because there is a crazy part of me that wants to know if I can run a marathon.

Pros:

I can train on the marathon course every weekend if I want to.  I won’t have to worry about holding anyone back because I’ll usually be alone.  If I complete the series, I suspect I will feel like a badass tough girl, even if I don’t actually win anything.  I might make new friends whose running style is more like my own.

Cons:

I’ll usually be alone and by the end, there will be a lot of hours of training by myself.  I told all of my running buddies that I didn’t want to do races anymore.  I’m not sure I could actually run a whole marathon, especially one on a course that tough.  It will cost me at least $30 a month or more, plus the equipment costs (camelbak, heart rate monitor, shoes, bug spray).

What do you think I should do?  Run the distances on my own instead of doing the races and save the money?  Just go for it—spend the cash, get the cool race t-shirts and official timing, and not say too much about it to my running buddies (or go ahead and tell them because they’ve probably forgotten the “no races” thing)?  Skip it and be happy just knowing that I’ve already run a couple of half marathons?  Go for the beer, balloons, and cake (in other words, listen to the Blerch) because one race is in the woods in cold-as-hell-January and another one involves running up and down the side of a mountain repeatedly?  Run those races, hope to have an awesome time, enjoy the bragging rights of being that hardcore?

Advise me!  I’m starting to consider asking the Magic 8 Ball!

Snow Falling On Runners

I was surprised by the number of people who were out running in the crazy cold yesterday morning.  I saw quite a few within a mile of the parking lot but by the time I was a couple of miles into the woods, I seemed to have the trails to myself.  I stopped to stretch my calves and took a moment to look around.  Snow was sifting softly through the trees and I smiled to myself and thought “man, I sure do hate snow.”  Running when it’s snowing is like running through cobwebs that never stop sticking to your face.  Ick. 

C’mon Spring!  I. Am. Ready!!