Do What You Love... Love What You Do

I had posted this last year.
Guess I should have taken my own advice...

I have been MIA on the blog for a while. I have also been MIA from my training. I had some good training going earlier in the spring, ran a few  over 50 PRs for 5ks, and then basically lost interest. I had committed myself to running the Playmaker's Race Series for the season, but just this weekend skipped one of the races (after I had already gotten up and was ready to go) because I just did not feel like it. To put it mildly, I am in a running slump.

I would like to say that it is because I have been too busy. I have been busy, but not too busy to run.  I managed to watch the live version of the Tour de France every day last month, the whole three hours of coverage most days, but I did not manage to find the 40 minutes to run. 

To make matters worse, I didn’t even care, except for the fear that I would lose all my fitness and have to start over. As I have gotten older, starting over has become something I really dread and that fear is usually enough to motivate me to do at least maintenance level running.  So where did the love of running go?

That was the question I needed to ponder.  The problem is that my best pondering happens when I run.  Catch-22 there for sure.  My progress on the issue had come to a standstill.  

Then I was having an offhand conversation with a non-running friend I hadn’t talked to in a while.  He asked about my running. I said I was in a slump. He asked if I was still doing marathons. I told him about my year last year, and my quest for the belt buckle, and all the trail races I had run. Then I somehow began to talk to him about the Western States 100 and my desire to run it someday.

In response to all this, he said “Lori, this may not be my place to say, but you need to be trail running. Your voice got so excited when you were talking about it that you were almost giddy. You should be doing what you love.”  And, as soon as I heard it, I knew it was truth.

What did I do next?  Well of course I went out for a run, on the trails, to ponder that statement.  I asked myself as I ran “What do I love about running?”  Well the immediate answer was running trails, of course. And ultras. And competition. And my running friends.  And the cycling that I am doing on the side. “What don’t I love so much?”  Road miles, especially long road miles. Road marathons.  Large races.  Road 5ks.

So how can I put this into practice to get re-motivated and do what I love? 

Well, first off, I need to refocus my trail running/ultra running goals. If I am going to make the Western States 100 in this lifetime, I need to get going on that goal now, as it is a major one that will take at least a couple of years to accomplish. It requires a qualifying race (either 50 or 100 miles), a lottery to enter that can take years to win, and probably a practice 100 miler or two to prepare. (If I don't make the lottery, I have to re-qualify each year until I do.)  There is also a lot of preparation that will need to be done in the 9 months leading up to the race if I do make the lottery and gain entry. This is a long term process that will require a lot of focus and perseverance, but rather than sounding incredibly daunting, sounds like a heck of a lot of fun! That was a goal I could get excited about!

Next, I want to stay in touch with my running friends and continue my commitment to the Playmaker’s/New Balance Masters Women’s Racing Team. That means that I need to keep my speed up a bit even as I take the focus away from road running and racing. That will also help me to be competitive in the ultras, which is a win-win. I will also probably stick with cycling and possibly duathlons. I think the cycling adds a component, mentally and physically, that I would like to keep in the mix.

With every decision made, though, there are things that one gives up. When one door opens, another closes. I will probably never run the Boston Marathon or New York or Chicago, or any of the other popular runs that a lot of runners have on their bucket lists. I am just not into road marathons enough to do something like that again. 

I also will not be running many local 5ks or other “popular” races. I think Facebook is great for keeping a community in touch, but it also creates FOMO (fear of missing out) that causes some people, at least me, to sign up for things that they aren’t really into just because everyone else is going.  More than once, this has led me down the path of committing to something that I really was not into. I need to learn to say “no.”

I guess it is official then. I am switching my focus back from roads to trails. (I think I will finish out the Playmakers Race Series races because I am leading in my age group, but they will not be my focus.) My focus now is to lay out a plan for meeting my Western States 100 goal. I think I will go for a run and ponder my plan of attack… I will let you know what I work out. 

If you would like to learn more about the Western States 100, or if you just love running movies in general, check out either of these: 

Unbreakable: The Western States 100

Race Report: T-Rex 10 Mile Trail Race

I am writing this race report with some reluctance. It is like the dilemma you might face with your favorite restaurant or watering hole: you want to tell your friends about it, but you really don't want the place to get too crowded and lose its initial charm. That is how I feel about this race. It is everything I love in a trail race rolled into one: small, quirky, inexpensive, friendly people, great course with lots of shady single track, enough uphills to bitch (then brag) about and enough downhills to enjoy. Seriously, what is not to love about a dinosaur themed race on the 4th of July, with a cardboard cutout of Mel Gibson as a mascot, and make-it-yourself snow cones at the finish line?

Proof that I can legitimately call myself an Old Fart

The first thing you need to know about the race is that it is put on by a group called The Old Farts Running Club  (of which I am a proud member). I have got to say that this group is one of the friendliest groups I have ever met, and that is saying a lot because I know some really friendly running groups! Besides being incredibly friendly, they are also an eccentric and fun-loving bunch. Besides the TRex 10 Miler (and Wimpy 8k) dinosaur-themed race on the 4th of July, they also put on such gems as the Beat the Grandma 8k and also some pretty serious (albeit still quirky) races, such as the Fallsburg Festival of Races  and  the Wild West 100k and Grin and BearIt 50k.  

These races are all about every competitor having a good time, and it shows. A great example of this has to do with the adjustments that were made after last year's race. Last year it was hot, hot, hot. A lot of runners really suffered, so they made two adjustments for this year's race. They moved the start time back an hour and rerouted the course in the last few miles of the course onto a shadier section of single track to remove a road section with little shade. Those were two little changes that did a lot for the comfort level of the racers. I know I really noticed and appreciated the changes.

Another thing the race director does to make the atmosphere fun is to make sure that nearly everyone has something to take home. (He really does understand that for some of us, it is all about the "bling"!) However, he handles this in a typical Old Farts Running Club kind of way. First of all, this year everyone that finished got a fossilized shark tooth (which went well with the dinosaur theme). Also, top finishers got the traditional TRex 10 miler towel. I did not get one this year, but love mine from last year. Overall, Masters, and Grandmaster winners also get a special basket full of all kinds of goodies.

The fun continues in the age group awards, which are three year groups rather than the traditional five year, and prizes go three deep. Here is where the quirkiness kicks in. The first place is a really nice medal, but second and third are a little more unusual. Last year, they were salt and pepper shakers that said something along the lines of  "I just didn't have the pep-pa."  This year, they were some really cool railroad spikes painted in bright colors that said "Missed the medal" on one side, and "Got the metal" on the other. They were so cool, it made me wish I had gone a little slower and got second.  

Finally, in case you still managed to be empty-handed, there is a raffle that is unlike any other. It is easier to just let them describe it:  If you don't win your age group then you might win at the "NOT" so Famous T-Rex Raffle ... and odds are you'll win something Old Fartish or something Too Lame to be called a raffle prize! Last year we had over 50 raffle winners!

Here is how the raffle works. They dump out a bunch of stuff onto a table. The "stuff" is so random! This year there were everything from old racing shirts, shorts, and hats to a pine derby kit, LED flashlights, a pair of men's extra large Superman briefs, collapsible clothes hampers, and two 3 ft. tall stuffed Christmas elves (which I dearly wanted to win).

Prior to the start of the raffle, we all stalk the table making choices and checking sizes (and sometimes figuring out the answer to the "What the heck is that?" question). Then they draw names from the jar. If your name is called, you have 30 seconds to grab your raffle prize. They call out the names in rapid succession, and the table becomes a free-for-all of raffle winners grabbing whatever is still left that looks good to them. Last year, I picked up a very cool running poster and also a nice thermal shirt for Jer (they had more prizes than runners last year). This year, unfortunately, the raffle gods were not smiling in my direction. I was heartbroken that I didn't get to bring home a stuffed elf. However, one of the winners was gracious enough to pose for a picture so that you could see what I missed out on.

You'd be smiling too if you got to take home one of the coveted  elves.

Okay, by this time you may be saying "Wait, isn't this a race report? Did you actually run a race?"  Well the answer to that one is yes!  I ran the 10 miler while Leslie (my partner in crime from the Dances With Dirt Gnaw Bone adventure and the Mango Madness race report author) ran the Wimpy 8k (the doctor had just cleared her on Monday for physical activity after her leg wound from the Mango Madness fall had become infected). 

Leslie and Me Ready to Start

The race is at Fallasburg Park in Lowell, MI. The finish line is at one of the picnic shelters at the park. Both races start together on a grassy field below the finish line. Runners start across the grass field, but then it narrows down to single track, with a bridge crossing and then more single track for the first mile before emptying for a mile or so onto a dirt road. It gets kind of congested in the first mile, as we do the conga-line thing on the single track trail. Last year, I went out fast to get ahead of the crowd. This year I tried a different strategy and went out a little slower hoping to have more left for the latter (hillier) half of the race.

The ten miler has lots of little ups and downs, as well as three increasingly difficult hills: Mini TRex, Little TRex, and Big TRex. The 8k runners get to turn back after the Mini, hence the name
"Wimpy 8k."  Mini and Little TRex are not the kind of hills that give an ultrarunner much problem, but Big TRex is truly a thing to dread. It is not really so much a hill as it is a cliff, and you go right up the sandy, hot, unshaded face of it at about mile 5.5.  It is a hands-on-the-knees type of climb that makes the rolling hills that follow it a bit more painful than they would normally be. Last year, it was much more of a shock to the system, though. This year I was more prepared. That does not mean I went up it any faster, just that I did not mind as much. I just told myself it was excellent training for DWD Devil's Lake and pushed on. For those interested in such things, the course is very well marked, with little chance of getting lost. There are also mile markers and friendly "tourist information" signs pointing out things like dinosaur eggs ahead (in a particularly rocky section), identifying Stegasauras ridge, and warning of the upcoming TRex area.

I felt pretty good for the first four miles of the race, but the hills and the heat in miles 5 through 7 really got to me. I struggled quite a bit and walked more than I should have in a race of that length. I tried not to look at my watch and just keep doing what I could do -- running when I could and walking when I felt I couldn't. Luckily, I had done an extremely hot, uncomfortable, and ugly ten mile training run last Friday afternoon with my friend Kate that had reduced us to walking breaks in the last three miles, so I just kept telling myself "This isn't as bad as the run with Kate. At least there is shade." That helped me get through the rough parts.

Toward the end of the course, after mile 8, there was some really pleasant downhill on a shaded dirt road, and I was able to pick it up. The last mile is back on the same trail we came out on, so I knew what to expect and how far it was to the finish. I was able to pick it up some and felt a little better.

Now, let me tell you about the race finish. Remember how I said the race starts in a field "below" the finish line.  The finish line is on a low bluff overlooking the field where we started. At the finish, we come out of the single track, run across a grassy meadow, cross a bridge over a creek, and then have to go up a ramp to the top of the bluff. The ramp is short, maybe 50 ft., but it is very, very steep on tired legs. It is not the kind of thing I even like to run on fresh legs! Thankfully, though, the finish is just over the top.

As I started running again after cresting the ramp (yes, I did walk up it -- no pride here), I saw the time on the clock 1:40:03. As I crossed the finish line, my watch said 1:40:23 -- exactly, to the second,  the same time that I had run the previous year. That time was good enough to win the age group last year, and it was also good enough to win my new age group this year. I was really happy with the result, both time and place, because I think it was even hotter this year than last, despite the earlier start time, and with the marathon I had just done not quite two weeks ago, I thought it was a pretty good outcome.

Soaking the legs post race

Post-race festivities here are some of my favorites. There are no bands, beer tents, or huge crowds. Save that for the road racers. What there is -- besides the aforementioned raffle -- is a stream for cooling off in and chatting with fellow runners. I met some really nice people, including Suzanne Kosloski, the perennial Grand Master's champion (Someone really needs to check her I.D. She is so beautiful and full of energy that she can't possibly be over 60!) and a couple of really nice people I met at the post race soak, including a 5th grade teacher whose name I did not get but who took those great pictures of me in the creek). 

 I also got to see one of my RUT friends Brandon who was both helping out with this race and advertising for the upcoming Naked Run.

Nuff said

One of the other post-race amenities that is my favorite is a snow cone machine where runners can make their own post-race snow cones. If you have never had a snow cone on a 90 degree day in Michigan after running ten miles through the woods, you have no idea what you are missing! If you look closely at the photos of me in the stream, you can see the tell-tale blue lips from my post-race snow cone. Everyone knows blue is the best!

So, if you are putting together a race calendar for 2013, you may want to pencil this one in. And, as I promised all those people I took pictures of at the race, here is a video. (If you are in any of these pics and want to download the JPG version, they are available on the Through a Running Lens Facebook page.)

Race Report: Keyes Peak Trail Marathon

In keeping with my training plan of running a trail marathon as a last long training run two to three weeks before my DWD 50ks, last weekend I ran the Keyes Peak Trail Marathon in preparation for my upcoming 50k at Dances with Dirt Devil's Lake in July. I chose this marathon for three reasons:. I had never been to Michigan's Upper Peninsula and wanted to see the beautiful scenery; it is in the Trail Runner Trophy Series; and it had a river crossing, which I had never done in a race before.

I had researched the race in advance and had read race reports. One report talked about mud, hills, ticks, and a river crossing. Sounded like a lot of fun to me!! Well, truthfully, I wasn't that excited about the ticks, but I bought an industrial sized bottle of bug spray with DEET and was ready to go. The race was also an environmentally aware race. All racers were required to carry bottles, and no paper cups would be used on the course. In addition, it was an automatic disqualification to be observed dropping any litter on the course. I was totally on board with that and thought this was a wonderful way to run a trail race.

As we made our way up and across the Mackinac Bridge the weather was perfect, sunny and beautiful. The water was beautiful shades of turquoise and blues. However, as we headed out the 2 and got closer to the MI/WI border, it was looking dark and cloudy. Finally we had a bit of a downpour. Yikes. I was worrying then about the condition of the trails and the water level in the river. On a previous year the river crossing had to be canceled because conditions were too treacherous for the runners to cross.

By the time we got to Keyes Peak, the storm had mostly passed. As we were driving down the road looking for the campground we were staying at, I saw a sign that said Keyes Peak Ski Resort. That was the starting line and packet pick-up. Then just about 300 ft. down the road was the entrance to our campground. What great luck!! The campground I had booked us at was literally next door to the race start!

We checked into our cute little cabin and headed over to packet pick-up. It is a small race, less than 300 runners total in the three races (50k, marathon, 10k). Packet pickup was a small affair. No big race expo here. What was here, though, was an incredibly friendly race director and staff. The race director was so nice that he even took groups of people outside to explain the course and to answer any questions. You could tell how much he cared about the race and that his main concern was a great experience for all runners.

Most people had questions about the river crossing. He explained that there were two options: swim across or cross with a rope. The water this year would be about "waist deep" and very doable. There would also be a guy there to help with the crossing. Some people looked a little worried. I thought it sounded like loads of fun.

"No Nonsense" arm warmers

The race start time was 7 am. I suddenly decided that it was going to be cooler than I expected at start time. I was expecting lower 60s, but they were now saying low to mid 50s. That is a little chilly for me standing around at the start. I decided I would need arm warmers. A quick check of my running bag revealed that the arm warmers were back in MI. It was off to town to find a Walgreens for a pair of knee socks to become improvised arm warmers. I thought they turned out pretty good for the $1.99 I had to invest in them. I thought the "No Nonsense" brand logo was fitting as a mantra for the challenge ahead.

Race morning was an unusual one for me. Because we were so close to the start and the race was so small, there was no need to get to the race early. Even with the 7 am. start time, I was able to sleep until 5:30 and still get to the race with plenty of time to spare, even with stopping for three applications of bug spray. (I was very serious about avoiding ticks).My improvised arm warmers worked well to keep me warm waiting for the start, but by start time, it had already warmed up to the upper 50s, so I ditched them before I headed out. 

The group at the start for the 50k/marathon was probably around 100. The start was the typical low-key ultra start, with the race director saying something like "Ready. Go!"  We sped, jogged, or hobbled off the start line. The race was at a ski resort. The finish was down the ski hill, but the start went up a dirt road that paralleled the slope. It was a pretty good hill with just enough mud to make it interesting. It was similar to the start at Gnaw Bone, only not as long and not as muddy.

Once we hit the top of the hill and got to the ridge, we began about 6 miles of mostly downhill, some of it pretty steep. This suited me fine. I love downhill running and ate up this part of the course (including one mile split of 7:40 -- what was I thinking??). As I was doing it, though, I was not naive enough to think that I would not have to pay. Southern Michigan around where I live has no place to train for a sustained 3 or 4 mile downhill stretch. My quads were not prepared well for this type of pounding, and I knew there would be big pain in the future. I put that thought to the back of my mind, though, and decided to take maximum advantage of the parts of the course that played to my strengths.

The course itself was not what I expected. It was almost entirely on dirt roads, with very little of the single track that I love so much. On the positive side, the footing on the dirt roads was very good, and unlike some roads, these were very flat and easy to run on. It would be a good course for a road runner, not used to technical trails. The scenery was also beautiful, lots of trees and greenery, and lots of shade, which became important as the morning progressed. In general, I was cruising along and having a pretty good time.

Along about mile 13, though, things turned not so fun for me. First of all, the second half of the course is predominantly uphill, which is never fun for me. It was also warming up, which for me is not a horrible thing, but when mixed with uphills just adds to the overall discomfort level. However, my real problem was the nausea. Despite having taken S-Caps religiously from the first hour on, I was having waves of nausea. There is nothing quite like being nauseous, hot, and climbing a hill, knowing that there are still 10 more miles of hills to go. It made me cranky.

On top of that, I was hungry, but there was a little battle going on between my brain and my stomach. The conversation went something like this:

Brain: "If you want to avoid a total shutdown here you better send us some more of those carbs."

Stomach: "If you send us any more of that gooey, sweet stuff, we are sending it right back out!"

I went through this almost continually for miles. I had a lot of time to think about it too because there were some really hellacious hills in this section. The worst hills on the course tended to be right after the aid stations. One of them was so steep I wondered whether vehicles could really make it up.   

The one bright spot on the horizon was the river crossing. For the marathoners, this is between mile 18 and 19. As we approached there was a volunteer there asking us whether we were doing the swim or run option and yelling it out for the volunteers on the river. I took the run option, which meant crossing with the rope. There was a volunteer to help me down the steep bank to the water and another to help with the crossing. The guy on the rope was awesome, giving really helpful advice and letting runners know where the big rocks and deep spots were. The water was moving fast in the middle and up to chest deep for me. I got knocked off my feet one time, but had a good hold on the rope so did not go under. Mostly the water just felt really good and the crossing was fun. That one experience was worth the trip.

This is not me. It is a representative picture of the river crossing from  Running  in the USA.

After the river crossing was an aid station. I was not changing shoes, but I did need to do something about my nausea. I had Gatorade in my hydration pack and decided that I might be better off with just water, S caps, and gels. I had pretty much drained the pack by then, so I had a volunteer refill it with water. She was so sweet. She filled it with the pack on my back, which I was very thankful for. I didn't want to take it off since it had taken me about three miles of fiddling to get it to sit just right.  

The water in the pack helped a bit, but I was still nauseous in those final miles. I was cheered a bit by realizing that it looked like I was going to break 5 hours, but it was not a guarantee at the rate I was moving by then (mostly a walk). There are some really cruel hills in the race between miles 22 and 24. Things were not going well.  I got passed by the only woman I had seen since about mile 7 of the race. She was very sweet and tried to encourage me to run with her to the end, but I was in my own private hell at that time and was not able to rally and join her, especially when we hit some runnable (for her) uphill. At about that time, I realized that I could break 4:45 if I picked it up just a bit, so I tried to pull myself together for one last push to the finish.

Me with my bottle of syrup

I was so happy when I finally started to get glimpses of the lake, ski lodge, and finish line through the trees. The finish was down a big ski hill which was fine for me. My legs could handle one more downhill with the finish in sight. I finished with a 4:34:35, which was a new trail marathon PR for me. I was also 6th woman overall, but only 3rd in my age group. The age group award was a bottle of Wisconsin maple syrup, which was cool. I also really liked the finishers medal, which was wooden and hanging from a piece of twine.

The finish line treats appeared to have been homemade, and the whole race had a really homey, small town feel. I would have enjoyed it a lot more, though, if I had not been in so much pain. My legs were not ready for the amount of continuous downhill and made that very clear to me when I stopped. I was in more pain after this race than even the Gnaw Bone 50k. Still it was a great experience and will be good training for the Leading Ladies Marathon which is also a downhill course.  

Friendly Volunteer!

All in all, it was a good experience.  It is a well run, well marked race. The race director is a nice guy who cares a lot about the event and the runners. The course is pretty and very runnable, good for those just switching from road to trails. It did not have enough single track to suit my preferences, but probably others were thankful not to have to deal with technical trails. I did not run into any of the dreaded ticks mentioned in other race reports you might see online. The river crossing was a fun element for me. The volunteers on the course were excellent and very friendly. 

Friendly Crew at the Last Aid Station

It is exactly the type of low key race that makes me love trail and ultra running. The experience was definitely worth the trip. 

Guest Race Report: Mango Madness

I am so excited this week to have a special guest race report for you. Fellow runner, triathlete, cyclist, Playmaker's and TCBA teammate, and partner in ultra-running adventures, Leslie Miyasato, (you may remember her from the DWD Gnaw Bone adventure) just returned from a vacation in Hawaii where she used her time wisely and entered a very exciting trail race. I got bits and pieces of it in text messages while she was gone  ("rats," "hill," "roots," "lost") and was super intrigued (and jealous). I asked her if she would write a race report to share with us all on the blog and she said "yes"!!!   So here it is, Leslie's race report of Mango Madness!! 

Each time I travel to Hawaii I check the local race schedule.   There is always something going on, and always a family member that is gullible enough to join me.   This trip was no exception.   My daughter Christi and my Finnish daughter Maria agreed to join me on their first ever trail race, Mango Madness!  

The race is advertised as "10+" miles. The plus is for the little "detours" they send you on. It begins and ends in a mini “park” at the intersection of Mikiki & Mikiki Heights, a residential area at the base of the mountains in Honolulu.    The term park is used loosely, since the only thing there is a pumping station, some grass, a tree and glaring lack of a pre-race staple.   Not a restroom or port-a-potty in sight, gulp!    Anyone that knows me knows this is not an ideal pre-race situation, not at all!   OK, from the lines I always see at races, this is not ideal for anyone.   Thank goodness this was a trail race.   All trail races have foliage to hide behind, right?    We were also promised a real restroom at mile one of the race, and thankfully, I elected to use it.   Foliage and cliffs don’t really make for wilderness pit stops!

Registration for the race began at 6:00 a.m.     We dropped our $10 into a plastic shoe box and picked our “race bib”, a number written on our leg just above the knee.

Hawaiian "bib"

After a short race briefing, we were off for our 7:00 a.m. start.   Make that 7:20ish……..we are talking Hawaii time here!   Christi and Maria planned to speed hike with me, even though both are runners.   We started at the back of the pack and thought we had ourselves nicely placed between two groups of runners.    We were nipping the heels of the first group, but decided we wouldn’t pass them until after the long awaited restrooms!   So much for nipping at their heels, we never saw them again.   

 After a short race briefing, we were off for our 7:00 a.m. start.   Make that 7:20ish……..we are talking Hawaii time here!   Christi and Maria planned to speed hike with me, even though both are runners.   We started at the back of the pack and thought we had ourselves nicely placed between two groups of runners.    We were nipping the heels of the first group, but decided we wouldn’t pass them until after the long awaited restrooms!   So much for nipping at their heels, we never saw them again.   

The first half of the race was well marked.   We climbed and climbed.    Plenty of roots, mud, and climbs. Everything you’d expect on a trail race, and more.   The scenery on the Tantalus trail system is spectacular, so spectacular that I caught a root at around mile 2.   Thank goodness I’d worn my calf compression sleeves, or my race would have been over.    It’s amazing what a black compression sleeve can hide!   I decided to wait and check out the damage at the first aid station (the one with no first aid kit, but plenty of water and Gatorade).    Not pretty, but I still had 8+ miles to go, so covered it back up and headed up what is affectionately known as the “Concrete Hill."   It’s steep, it’s slippery, and it’s covered with a pebbly concrete of sorts.    The first man and woman up the hill receive a special award.   Perhaps an award should go to the last one up too, although that wouldn’t have been me.    We passed 2 women on the way up.    Yay, no longer in last place!

Mango Madness is a trail race with unexpected detours.    We hit our first detour at the top of the concrete hill.    What’s a little more climbing at this point?   Well worth the view of Honolulu from the peak!   We were given a blue bracelet (a piece of blue plastic ribbon tied around our wrist) to prove we’d been there.    That is the last time we saw anyone.    The two women behind us opted out of the detour.   One more trail marker, and we never saw another one of those either.   Here we were on the top of the mountain, with trails going in various directions at intersections.    We guessed, and guessed, and guessed.    Evidently the person clearing the markers for the last 5 miles of the race cleared them a little too soon.    Oops!

The route down the mountain took us through bamboo, banyan trees, tropical flowers……..more roots and cliffs.    I’m still not sure how people actually run through all of the roots on the trails.    They are incredibly treacherous in a lot of places.     

One amazing find while lost was a tree that looked like it was wearing a grass skirt.    You won’t be seeing a photo, thanks to the rat tree.    I stopped to take a photo when Maria commented that there was a mouse in the tree.     It wasn’t a mouse; it was a rat.   Make that a lot of rats.    The tree actually started to shake with rat activity.   If anything can get me to run through a maze of roots, it’s the thought of rats jumping out of a tree and landing on my head.    Off we went, without a photo of the cool looking tree.  

After more wrong turns and some backtracking, we made our way back to the finish.   We conquered Mango Madness, although Coconut Craziness would have been even more fitting for our trio!   We had a lot of laughs, and actually got to enjoy the scenery once we realized we were lost.   

Would I recommend the race?  Absolutely!   There were some glitches, but hey, we are talking about a $10 race here.   One major snafu (in addition to the missing route markers) was some information we were given at the race briefing.   We were told to be sure to check in at the finish, because they would not leave until everyone was accounted for, even if it meant they had to sit there all night.    I guess someone miscounted.    Everyone was gone, with the exception of the race directors.   They were getting into their cars when we came around the bend, and had no clue we were unaccounted for.    Oops!   Not good on a trail that is an injury waiting to happen and somewhat confusing.    Next time I’ll be sure to stick a map of the trail system in my pocket!  

If you are visiting Oahu, be sure to check out the H.U.R.T (Hawaiian Ultra Running Team) website (www.hurthawaii.com).   They have weekly trail runs and numerous races, including the HURT 100.    It’s a great group, and even though we were lost on Tantalus, we had a great time!   

Have you run an interesting, exciting, or fun race that you would like to share a report of? If so, email me (wyld_runner2@yahoo.com) to make arrangements for a guest post. 

Race Report: Flirt With Dirt 10k

Flirt with Dirt Bling

Last weekend I did something that I almost never do. I ran a race that was less than a half marathon. Lately I have been concentrating on longer distance races, so this was the first 10k I have done since this same race a year ago.

As you can guess from the name, Flirt with Dirt is a trail race. It is located in a small park just a mile or two off the freeway in Novi, MI. This race is put on by Running Fit, which you might have noticed if you have been following my posts, is my favorite race organization. It is the second race in the "Serious Series," which includes a race from the Trail Marathon weekend and one from the Legend set of races, which is coming up in August. Those lucky runners who complete the three races, pick up a Serious Series beer glass. This can be added to the collection of coffee mugs that one might earn as age group award at the races in the series. One of my goals in life is to replace all of our glassware with Running Fit items. So far I have a martini glass and four coffee mugs. 

The Running Fit bus

There is also a 5k race, as well as the 10k, and between the two races the number of runners is limited to 600. Still, it does have the feel of a small race. The course starts and finishes at the top of a fairly steep hill. The start is on grass, followed by a short stretch through a dirt parking lot and down a dirt road, and then onto some really nice single track for most of the race until runners pop back out onto the grass to run up the steep hill to the finish.

Having had some experience with short distance trail races from running the Winter Trail Running Series in California several years back, I know how important it is to get out fast in a race like this. I lined up close to the front of the pack.  I was planning to attempt to average about an 8:40 pace, but lined up with the 8:30s to get a good spot at the start. When the horn blew to start the race, I took off. At the start, it was pretty hectic. For the first hundred yards,  my main concern was to avoid tripping on the steep downhill and rolling to the bottom like a sack of potatoes.  Simultaneously I was also trying to avoid being trampled by all the testosterone amped men who had started around me and keeping an eye on the women who were out ahead of me.

We swept down the hill, around a large field, and poured out onto the parking lot. Jer was there waiting and cheered me on. I was still smiling at that point, so I gave him a smile and a wave. We turned a corner and headed toward the single track. I looked down at my watch and saw that my pace was 7:40. Yikes! That was pretty fast to go out in a trail race, but I really felt it was a good strategy with the single track coming up.

When I got to the single track, I tried to pull it back just a bit and settle in. This park has really nice trails, similar to the ones I run at Lake Lansing North on Thursday nights, so I felt pretty comfortable. It soon became clear that I had done the right thing and placed  myself correctly, as I was only passed by a few men and two younger women once we hit the single track, and I only had to pass 2 or 3 people to get into the slot where I could run comfortably at my pace, one of whom was a woman.

Things went along pretty smoothly through the early miles of the race. The course has a lot of interesting switchbacks on the trail that result in views through the trees of lines of runners at various spots, but you can't tell if they are ahead of or  behind you. For some reason (probably oxygen deprivation from the fast start)  it struck me as funny, and my brain filled in some Benny Hill music, which almost made me laugh out loud.
(In case you don't remember the Benny Hill theme song. It's just the thing to have stuck in your head during a trail race)

About 3.5 miles into the race, I started to hate life. Although I did not remember hills from the year before, they were sure enough there this year. All of them were runnable, especially for a 10k, but since I am horrible with uphills, they HURT!  I knew I was slowing down some and was extremely dismayed to be passed back by the woman that I had passed earlier. I was also extremely dismayed to see that chances were good that she was in my age group.

I tried to stay with her and managed to keep her in sight for the rest of the race, but I could not catch her. Mile 4.5 to 5.5 was pretty painful, partly because I had gone out a bit fast, partly because I am just not used to the fast running at this point, and partly because short fast races just hurt!  She stretched out the lead a little bit. At mile 5.5 I toyed with the idea of trying to catch her, but by that point, I just did not have enough left to pick it up.

The finishing hill of the race was just as painful as I remember. Runners come out of the woods to the cheers of the crowd and have this vertical grass hill between them and the finish. Seriously, it is like climbing the Alps. Thankfully it is only about 25 yards long. I crossed the finish line in 55:05, which was about 90 seconds slower  than my time from last year.

I found the woman who had passed me and congratulated her. She had finished in 54:42. Just as I suspected, she was also in my age group. She had been the age group winner for the previous two years in the 50-54 age group. I had been second the year before in the 45-49 age group, and I was second this year in the 50-54 group. One thing that made me feel a little better about the slower finish was that  this year I was 51 out of 377 while last year I was 106 out of 333, so maybe times were a little slower this year, possibly because of the heat.

I wasn't happy with my time, but felt I had run the race well. I am not as fit as I was last year at this time. My Bayshore results had already told me that. The IT band problems which had caused me to cut back on my running in the six weeks following Green Swamp had cut into my fitness and also taken the time away in the training cycle where I should have been running more hills and starting to work on some speed. Given those factors, the result was not terrible. I am hoping to see lots of improvement in speed later in the summer. 

Race Report: Trail Marathon

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."  -- T.S. Eliot

I ran the Trail Marathon in Pinckney, MI this weekend. It was an iffy proposition because my IT band had still not healed all the way. After the bad day at the Martian Half Marathon two weeks ago, where I had to quit at 5.75 miles, I was not hopeful about making it through the marathon on this tough course. It is a hilly course, mostly on the Potawatomi trail, but I really did need to get a long run in if I hope to successfully complete the Dances With Dirt Gnaw Bone 50k in two weeks (one of my four key races in pursuit of my Bloodied, Boned, Bruised, and Burned belt buckle).

I was saved in this race by my friend Janet, who recommended that I get some Rock Tape. I credit much of my ability to get through this race to the wonderful therapy I have been getting from Dr. Tom and the magic of the Rock Tape (which I will be reviewing in my post later this week).  I wrapped my knee up as directed with Rock Tape the night before and was hoping for the best come race time.

It was a beautiful but cold morning in Pinckney. The forecast had said 36 and sunny at start time. They were part right. It was sunny but a very chilly 26 degrees,  with 50s forecasted for the afternoon. I was already grumpy because it was so dang early, but this made me even more grumpy. What to wear? I had planned tights, a short sleeve top, sleeves, and gloves, but that was going to be nowhere near enough. Thankfully I had grabbed an extra long sleeve on the way out of the house and had a lightweight vest in my bag. I ended up with tights, long sleeve, light vest, hydration pack, and gloves. I probably could have done without the light vest, but I was glad to have it on as we waited for the start. I had brought a friend, Nicole, who was running her first 50k. She had brought no warm gear and had on shorts, a tank, and sleeves. I felt sorry for her at the start, but she was happy at the end of the race.

I found some of my RUT (Running Fit Ultra Team) friends to hang out with at the start. As I said, it was a beautiful sunrise, with steam rising off the lake. Randy, Running Fit's head goat, started the race. We went out in waves of about 50 people each, self-selected, with about 30 seconds between groups, with Randy saying "Go" for each of the waves. It was chip timing, so it was a pretty informal start.

We ran across the grass and started the "conga line" that happens at the start of every trail race where groups of people have to sort themselves out on the single track. Thankfully, there was a road crossing and a slight road stretch at about a half mile that helped in case runners had not seeded themselves correctly. At least where I was running the sorting out seemed to be a pretty orderly process, not the half marathon the previous year.

I started out at a very comfortable pace. I was purposefully avoiding looking at my watch and just concentrating on running relaxed and easy. As I said, for me this was a training run rather than a race, so I was just out there to put miles on the legs, hopefully for as long as I could before my leg made me stop. I was afraid I might only get 8 to 10 miles, but was hoping that if I had a good day I could make at least 20 of running till I had to stop and then walking the rest of the way in. My plan from the start was to walk the uphills, run the flats and downs.

The marathon course is a 13.1 mile loop (the half course) which runners do twice. I had vague memories of the course from doing the half last year. Mostly what I remembered was that there were some really hellacious hills in the middle of the course. The first four miles or so went by really pleasantly. The trail was in excellent condition. It was damp, but not muddy, and pretty much free of debris. The course was rolling, and I was having a good time staying focused and relaxed.

The real work for me began somewhere around mile five, with the first of several fairly steep hills. I got passed by quite a few people on the uphills, like always, but because I was not racing, I was able to keep a good attitude about it. I passed some of them back on the down hills, like always. Downhills are my thing. 

Miles five through nine were kind of tense ones for me. I figured that if the knee was going to start acting up, this would be the place. However, the anxiety was broken up by the high point of the race for me, visiting my friend Paula at Aid Station Ernie at 6.5 miles. Because I was just messing around and didn't even really expect to finish the race, I sat down for a  minute or two to shoot the breeze with Paula and try to cajole her into a running road trip I am planning for later this summer. Finally I decided I better get going and took off again, much refreshed.

There were some pretty hilly parts between miles 6.5 and the next aid station at 9.5. I was starting to flag a bit so decided to take some gel. Unfortunately my gel was so cold that I could hardly get any out of the flask. It was irritating. I decided I better start using Gatorade at the aid stations for some calories. I had a no calorie electrolyte drink in my hydration pack to go with the gels. If I wasn't going to be able to get the gels steadily, I was going to need calories from the Gatorade. 

I pulled into the last aid station of the loop and was delighted to find another of my RUT team members, Jan, who is recovering from a serious calf injury. Again, I spent a few minutes catching up before heading on down the trail. The last segment of trail is one of my favorites. It has ample amounts of downhill at regular intervals, with a few walking breaks for uphills. I started feeling good after getting some Gatorade in, and I managed to pass some people in the last mile or so of the first loop. Still, my knee started to feel a little "funny" on the last steep downhill, and I still had my doubts about finishing.

Jan (great as a volunteer
but hope he is running soon)

When I came past the start/finish at the end of the first loop, it was really warming up. I got rid of the lightweight vest, told Jer that I was feeling good enough to keep going, that the Rock Tape seemed to be working, but that I didn't know if the knee would last or not.  I told him it might be a while because I was still expecting to walk in.

As I went out of the start/finish on the grass, my knee was a little twingy. I was happy to get back on the dirt trail. Soon the Gatorade kicked in again, and I started to feel good. I was cruising along at this point with a smile on my face.  I was surprised to be feeling so good, especially with the lack of long runs. The uphill walks gave me time to recover and be able to keep a good pace on the flats and downs. I was surprised to start passing people on the second loop. I don't think that my running time had slowed that much, but my time was slower because I walked a few of the smaller hills on the second loop that I had run on the first.

I find that if I am going to have hills, I would rather have a loop course. I knew what was ahead of me hill-wise on the second loop and was mentally prepared. I struggled less mentally with the hills on the second loop than the first.

Me with Paula and Ernie

I cruised into Aid Station Ernie for the second time, got a picture with Paula, drank about five cups of Gatorade and headed out. I glanced at my watch and could not believe my time. For all the messing around I was doing, it looked like I could still be under 5:30. That cheered me up. As I was heading out of the aid station, on the first hill, some guy passed me and said "You look like you are hot." I still had on my gloves (mostly to wipe my nose) and a long sleeve. He said, "I got rid of my long sleeve at the last aid station."  Thanks guy. I had not been hot until that point, but suddenly I was overheated. I took off my gloves and stuffed them in my belt, shoved my sleeves up a little higher, and kept going. I couldn't take off my top because I wasn't willing to risk the chafing from the vest I had at Green Swamp.

Just before the last aid station, I ran into my RUT friends Kai and Farra. I was amazed to see them because they are WAY faster than I am, but Farra was struggling some with her IT band. (In true Farra fashion, though, she still managed to pull off an age group win in the 50k).  I was also starting to feel a little nauseous and knew I needed an electrolyte capsule. I had been sweating pretty heavily in the long sleeve. We hung out together to the aid station. Once there, I popped an electrolyte capsule and ate a handful of trail mix. We talked to Jan for a while and then headed out. Leaving the aid station I was feeling pretty good, with my favorite section of the course coming up.

Farra and Kai

I was cruising along at about 23 miles when I got my first calf twinge. I should have known it was going to happen. I had waited too long with the Endurolyte and was behind on electrolytes. This put a bit of a cramp in my style (pardon the pun) for the last few miles. I could still run downhills, but anything that had the slightest uphill had to be walked to keep my calves from seizing up. Normally this would stress me out, but since I was doing so much better than I had expected and realized that I was going to finish sub 5:30, even if I walked, that I didn't care.

In the last mile to the finish I was able to pick it up. I passed 4 people, including a 16 year old guy doing his first marathon that I had been playing leapfrog with all day. He actually finished ahead of me in the results, though, because we had started in different waves. I finished feeling better than I ever have after a marathon. I was completely shocked to get handed an age group award, a nice coffee mug, at the finish line. I never in my wildest dreams thought that the day would result in an age group award, but I ended up second to a fellow RUT member, Ellen. 

Nicole and her new friend Lisa

After I finished, I waited for Nicole to come around on the second lap on the way to her first 50k. They did two loops plus an extra five mile loop at the end. I was really happy to see she had found someone to run with and looked like she was doing great. I headed back to the car to get warm and took a quick nap before going out to watch her finish. I got back to the finish just as she was crossing the line. We were all delighted to find out that both she and her new friend she was running with had won age group awards.

This marathon was a completely different experience for me, much more relaxed and a lot of fun. I love trail running, but on race day I am usually so stressed out with racing and trying to do everything I can to run a good time that I don't always enjoy the race. I am definitely going to reflect on this and take this insight with me going forward. I need to find the happy medium where I am racing but also enjoying the experience as well.

Reflections on the Loss of Micah True, aka Caballa Blanco

As many of you probably heard, the ultrarunning community lost one of its more famous members last week. Micah True, also known as Caballo Blanco, who had been featured in the book Born to Run, disappeared last Tuesday while out for a 12 mile training run in the Gila National Forest in New Mexico.  His body was found on Saturday. For those of you who aren't familiar with ultrarunning or True's story, one of my favorite bios that has come out in the wake of the tragedy is this article from the BBC.

When I first saw the post on one of my Facebook groups that True was missing, I felt what a lot of other runners probably felt, a little bit of concern, but a feeling that he would be found soon, alright, perhaps with some injury that kept him from getting back sooner. As time passed and he did not come back, I started to feel a deeper sense of foreboding. My thoughts immediately turned to foul play because my brain could not or did not want to process the idea that this highly skilled, highly knowledgeable, and extremely self-sufficient ultrarunner had had a running-related mishap.

Then the news came out that they had found True's body. The reports said that he was sitting in a natural position, with his feet in a stream and his water bottle by his side. An early report in Competitor magazine  (that has since been taken down) said he had abrasions on his knees and possibly a broken finger, but we won't really know what happened until the autopsy results come in. Many regular trail runners took that news with shock, disbelief, and a sense of unease. If someone like True could have an accident like that and perish, what did that mean for the rest of us regular trail runners?

What really shocked me, though, was a line I read in an article today from ABC News. It said that they had found his body "around three miles from where he was last seen." That, to me, was the most shocking information.

Somehow, when I heard that he could not be found and was lost in the "wilderness" of the national forest, I assumed that they would find him in some remote area far from civilization. Three miles from where he was last seen?! That is around a 30-35 minute run for most of us -- or maybe an hour walk if we are hobbling on a sprained ankle. It is less than the distance of my short recovery days.  It is mind-boggling that True could have died so close to civilization.

On a practical level, though, I do understand. Last summer when I had a simple little fall and ruptured my spleen, I was less than a half mile from the trailhead when I went into shock. I was bleeding internally and having trouble breathing. Although I had a cell phone in my pocket, which was still playing music as I was hobbling up the trail, I did not have enough mental capacity to realize that I could use it to get help. If I had not been lucky enough to run into some hikers, I might have collapsed on the trail, probably less than a quarter mile from the parking lot where my husband was waiting. I could have bled to death.

If I had not gotten out of the trails that day, it would have been at least an hour to an hour and a half before my husband came looking for me. Even though I was expected back in about a half hour (I was doing loops back by the parking lot), he would not have worried too much for a while because he knows that like many trail runners I get distracted or intrigued or sidetracked and often don't follow my running plan. I often pop out of the trailhead a half hour or hour past the time I said I would be gone with a smile on my face, excited to tell him about some new trail or adventure.

In fact, like many trail runners, I often wander off for distances and times that are not planned. I also often run by myself. Sometimes I even leave for a run while my husband is gone and don't leave any type of information about where I am going and when I will be back. I know I shouldn't do this, but hey, it is just a short little trail run, right?  I guess True's situation answers that question for us. Until the autopsy is in, we won't know for sure, but would True still be alive if someone had gone looking for him sooner, say like when he was just a few hours late coming back from the run...

Trail runners are an independent and self-sufficient lot. On top of that, one of the reasons most of us run trails is that we love to feel at one with nature. Nature, to many of us, is a companion on the trails. It is easy to forget, as we are puttering down a beautiful trail, that nature is also harsh and unforgiving. One mistake can mean serious consequences. In a heartbeat a nice day on the trail can turn into a life-threatening situation. That is an inherent risk of the sport that we all accept and that most of us will never have to deal with, but obviously some of us will.

True's death shows that it doesn't matter how experienced, how self-sufficient, or how knowledgeable one is, that disaster can still strike. What can someone do? Well there are a few things that trail runners should always do that can make the difference between life and death. One is, obviously, not to run alone. Being a trial runner myself, I know that I will violate that guideline even knowing that it increases the risk. There just aren't always people to run with, and I am not willing to give up the trails except for when I can find a buddy (although I will probably make more of an effort on this one than I have in the past).

The biggest thing, then, is probably to make sure that someone knows where you are going and when you expect to return. If you, like me, are prone to taking a little longer than you plan, let the person know the acceptable amount of time before they should become concerned and take action. I now tell my husband something like "I am going xyz. I should be back in 40 minutes, but it may be as much as an hour and twenty. If I am not back in an hour and a half, start looking for me."  That lets him know how much might be me just messing around doing trail stuff and when there might really be a problem.

Another thing I will change about my approach to trail running is to curtail those little impromptu exploratory runs that take me far from where I said I would be. If any of you read that blog post about the trail lessons learned in Florida, my little outing on the archery range was a good mile away from where I was supposed to have been running, and it was on private property where they might not have even thought to look if I  had come up missing. If I had fallen (and ruptured my spleen again), they would have had no idea where I was. From now on, when I see that new trail beckoning, I will make a mental note and schedule my exploration of it for a future run rather than just taking off on a new trail in a direction I hadn't planned, without telling anyone where I am going.

Just those two simple things, running where you say you will be and letting someone know when you should be back, can go a long way toward saving your life. I know that this sounds so basic, but it is easy to forget safety when running the trails is so much fun.  I know because I am guilty of those types of things myself. 

I am sad and distressed over the loss of Micah True, but he will live on through the pages of the book and in the lessons we can learn, both from his life and from his death. If you haven't read Born to Run, you should, if for no other reason than to get to know this extraordinary ultrarunner so that you can understand the loss so many of us feel.