Well, color me surprised. It's dark in the morning. I guess I should have known this. After all, when my friend and I made plans to ride together last week, I pored over the Internet looking for information on what time sunrise would be, eventually finding a handy little site called www.sunrisesunset.com that gave me an exact listing of sunrise times by date for my zip code.
Last week, I educated myself on the subtle differences between civil twilight, nautical twilight and astronomical twilight (all listed on that site) and determined that while sunrise wasn't until about 6 a.m., civil twilight was about a half hour earlier and would ensure that we would be able to see while biking. And, indeed, we could! In fact, last week I was really left with the impression that everything was fine, and maybe I had gone a bit overboard in worrying about that pesky little light situation.
So, when this week rolled around, I didn't really give much thought to sunrise, twilight, or anything of the like. I figured, so it will be a bit more gray out. As a nod to that, I chose to wear my Nathan reflective arm sleeves with my neon yellow short sleeve tech shirt, even though it was already 73 degrees at 5:30 a.m. What I should have realized was, of course, that as the summer season marches relentlessly towards its close, sunrise, twilight and all that get pushed back about ten minutes each week. Oops.
So, when I actually opened the garage door this morning and got on my trusty hybrid to ride, my first thought was It's dark. My second thought was Wow, I really can't see anything.
Getting on my bike, I realized I couldn't see my computer thingamajig to reset it. I actually had to stop my bike, tilt it a bit towards a neighbor's outdoor porch light, and still even then I was forced to put my face right up to the device before I could vaguely make out the fact that I had successfully reset the thing. Additionally, I couldn't see my gears. This wasn't that big of a deal since I can mostly change gears by feel, and the range I use is small enough that no big changes are required anyway.
The dark - or the threat of storms from the night before - seemed to keep the usual one or two cars and handful of runners and dog walkers I had gotten used to seeing in the early a.m. all summer off the streets. So, not only was it dark, it was lonely. I have to say the ride to the school to meet my friend was a bit creepy and weird as a result, and I was a bit relieved when I saw her pinpoint bike light in the distance heading towards me. A ghostly "good morning" from the dark greeted me and circling around we could actually begin our ride.
I would like to say that this is the point where things settled down and the ride became normal, but it didn't. It was still dark, and I don't have a headlight on my bike. To be deep-down truthfully honest, I kind of liked riding in the dark. It was a neat feeling knowing that no one else was about. I guess I have that type of personality. That didn't mitigate the fact, though, that I still couldn't see the pavement, and without the influx of visual cues one would normally receive, I felt like my balance was thrown off just a bit. I definitely felt shakier on the bike and couldn't help but notice those tiny little ups and downs in the landscape (not to mention potholes) more than I normally would. It felt kind of like trying to do a balance pose in yoga with your eyes closed versus open. World of difference, at least for me.
I am not sure when the sky started brightening (I was concentrating so much on the road and really gabbing too much), but certainly by the halfway point it was light enough to feel normal again.
Then the rest of the ride did go pretty much as usual. The first half was easy peasy, or should I say easy breezy since the wind was at our backs? Turning to head back - as usual - we were greeted with a bit of a bitch of a headwind. And, - as usual - I slowed down significantly, which is too bad, because my legs felt pretty fresh this morning. I'll blame it on the heavy hybrid.
In any case, it was a great ride, and I feel like I got a good workout. After joining my parents and friends for sangrias last night and only getting six or so hours of sleep, I'll take it.
I am strangely really happy to have made it to the start of the kids' school year being able to do the early a.m. rides, and to be honest I will miss them. Rolling out of bed to exercise has never been easy for me, but I have enjoyed the rides. In the meantime, though, there are new biking challenges on the horizon. After all, I want to see how far into the cold weather I can get. October? November? We'll see.
Note about shoes: Running trails yesterday, I think my trail shoes and I may have come to some sort of workable agreement. I figured out a new way to tie them and I wore my thicker SmartWool socks, and one or both of those seemed to prevent the shoes from slipping. In any case, I am happy. I think they will work out for the marathon. Of course, I still plan on putting other shoes in my drop bags, just in case.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Thursday, August 29, 2013
96 Percent Humidity...
...That is what the weatherman said this morning, and I have decided that is at least 30 percentage points too many. When they say that the humidity level is hovering around the "oppressive" mark, one should really consider themselves forewarned.
These past two days now I have run in "oppressive" humidity. And, while I like to give my running friends a hard time on Facebook if they say they are bailing because of it - postponing runs, using the treadmill, etc. - and while I like to say this is good for acclimation purposes, the truth is that running out in this weather just sucks.
I have been lucky in a way because this week is my second week of taper, so while I did want to get out there and run I didn't need a lot of miles. Just four to five miles each day was on the plan. Even with such a modest schedule, though, I found myself wishing I could go shorter. It's not that I was tired or worn out or not wanting to run, but the heat and humidity conspired to create a feeling of nausea both days that hit me later in the run both days. Not a very pleasant feeling. Combine that with just a general feeling of blah and a flash flood of sweat poring from my skin, and really I just felt crummy.
Oh well, it is done! Two runs closer to race day! My last long-long run was done on this past Sunday, running the trails at High Cliff, and because I forgot my Cliff Blocks for the first two hours, it was an interesting experiment in running on empty. What did I find? Mainly, that I like eating something every 45 minutes or so. After about an hour and a half of the run, I could really feel the lack of food - mostly when we stopped to take a photo and then I started up again. I have to say I felt a little woozy. It was probably just a blood sugar crash, but it was a weird feeling. By the time we got back to the car at the two hour mark, I was fairly ravenous. Instead of eating the blocks, I opted for the banana I had brought and a Kit's Organic bar (both originally intended for a post-run snack). I needed real food. After eating and slugging a bunch of Gu Brew, we headed back out for another half hour or so to finish up. That was interesting, because while my tummy felt a bit funny for the first ten minutes or so - probably really needed to digest - after that I felt great! I could really feel the food hitting me. I had more energy, was happier, and generally ready to put a smile back on my face. So, the lesson learned here is twofold.
1) I do like having my Cliff Blocks every 45 minutes or so, and I don't foresee giving them up anytime soon.
2) I could possibly give up the blocks if I could find the right solid foods to eat. Both the naner and bar I ate settled well and if I could find more foods like that, it might be a better way to go. Time for more experimentation - after the marathon, of course.
And, since we're talking about food, here is what I had for lunch yesterday. I don't know why I took a picture of it, but since I did, you get to see it! Wish I had more of this for today!
And for further amusement, did you know they make all sorts of dog toys now with Star Wars themes? My son insisted on buying this one yesterday, but luckily I was able to use my magical mom powers to say "no." Ooh, I had to add an edit.... I just realized this looks a bit like the clip I saw from the Miley Cyrus debacle circling the Webnet now. (And, no, I have not watched the performance beyond that clip and have no intention to. Who cares?)
These past two days now I have run in "oppressive" humidity. And, while I like to give my running friends a hard time on Facebook if they say they are bailing because of it - postponing runs, using the treadmill, etc. - and while I like to say this is good for acclimation purposes, the truth is that running out in this weather just sucks.
I have been lucky in a way because this week is my second week of taper, so while I did want to get out there and run I didn't need a lot of miles. Just four to five miles each day was on the plan. Even with such a modest schedule, though, I found myself wishing I could go shorter. It's not that I was tired or worn out or not wanting to run, but the heat and humidity conspired to create a feeling of nausea both days that hit me later in the run both days. Not a very pleasant feeling. Combine that with just a general feeling of blah and a flash flood of sweat poring from my skin, and really I just felt crummy.
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| Not a great picture, but it does show how sweat-inducing the weather was. |
1) I do like having my Cliff Blocks every 45 minutes or so, and I don't foresee giving them up anytime soon.
2) I could possibly give up the blocks if I could find the right solid foods to eat. Both the naner and bar I ate settled well and if I could find more foods like that, it might be a better way to go. Time for more experimentation - after the marathon, of course.
And, since we're talking about food, here is what I had for lunch yesterday. I don't know why I took a picture of it, but since I did, you get to see it! Wish I had more of this for today!
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| Tofu, tomato and avocado sandwich with Veganaise and sprinkled with turmeric. Yes, I am weird. |
On Weather Watch
It's that time again, the time when I enter the 10-day weather watch window for an upcoming event. I am not exactly sure why I like to watch the forecast so closely. I am not obsessed with it as some people have assumed. Generally, I only think about it once a day. In fact, I would venture to guess that once this post is done I won't think about it again until tomorrow morning when the local weather on the news reminds me to check the 10-day for Lutsen, Minnesota.
What has given me a bad rap is that I post the daily weather during this 10-day stretch on Facebook for all my friends and family to see. I don't understand why they think I am obsessed.
I can't remember which race I started this little tradition with, but I had so much fun with it that I did it for another one. Now, a major race can't go by without someone asking me if I am going to post the forecast or not. I am still trying to figure out if those folks are serious or not. I have been teased about this "obsession," admonished, and lauded. It all depends on, I have come to figure out, if people have a horse in that particular race (namely themselves).
I have had folks ask me why I WASN'T posting the weather for an upcoming major event. The answer in that case has usually been that I wasn't running it. I mean, I am not the local running club's weather guru, a weather forecaster by trade, I don't even play one on TV; I just post weather updates on races that interest me personally. In any event, the fact that I post now is more for the amusement of others, as well as myself.
For the Moose Mountain Marathon, however, I have to say, I really am interested in the weather. More than any other race I have done, the forecast will impact what I wear, what I carry with me, what shoes I choose, and what I pack in my drop bag. (Yes, the marathon has drop bag options!) This will be such a long race that I will need to be prepared for every possibility come race day and maximize my packing and drop bag potential.
The shoes are the major concern since I am not too enamored of my trail shoes in general, and I don't feel super confident in how they perform on wet rocks. If it rains, I may opt for my road shoes and hope for the best.
So, with that in mind, let the weather watch begin!
What has given me a bad rap is that I post the daily weather during this 10-day stretch on Facebook for all my friends and family to see. I don't understand why they think I am obsessed.
I can't remember which race I started this little tradition with, but I had so much fun with it that I did it for another one. Now, a major race can't go by without someone asking me if I am going to post the forecast or not. I am still trying to figure out if those folks are serious or not. I have been teased about this "obsession," admonished, and lauded. It all depends on, I have come to figure out, if people have a horse in that particular race (namely themselves).
I have had folks ask me why I WASN'T posting the weather for an upcoming major event. The answer in that case has usually been that I wasn't running it. I mean, I am not the local running club's weather guru, a weather forecaster by trade, I don't even play one on TV; I just post weather updates on races that interest me personally. In any event, the fact that I post now is more for the amusement of others, as well as myself.
For the Moose Mountain Marathon, however, I have to say, I really am interested in the weather. More than any other race I have done, the forecast will impact what I wear, what I carry with me, what shoes I choose, and what I pack in my drop bag. (Yes, the marathon has drop bag options!) This will be such a long race that I will need to be prepared for every possibility come race day and maximize my packing and drop bag potential.
The shoes are the major concern since I am not too enamored of my trail shoes in general, and I don't feel super confident in how they perform on wet rocks. If it rains, I may opt for my road shoes and hope for the best.
So, with that in mind, let the weather watch begin!
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Can't We All Just Get Along?
Today was the Wednesday group run's last day of "summer" running. Next week with the start of school the group will move to a 9 a.m. start for the run, versus the 7:30 a.m. start we have been doing. I am really looking forward to this shift, because for me it means that I can make the run with regularity again. For the better part of three months, with summer school and then no school, I have mostly had to bow out of the Wednesday runs. The timing just didn't work out for me. However, with the school year starting, that will no longer be an issue.
With the end of season comes a kind of changing of the guard. While I, and another lady who runs regularly during the school year, will be able to make it, two others who are teachers and can only come during June, July, and August have had to say their good-byes until the next school vacation allows them to attend.
While this is all bittersweet, it reminds me that this is part of what is so lovely about running. More than anything else in my life - any hobby or circle of friends - running has allowed me the joy of being able to get to know a wide variety of people from all walks of life. There are teachers, engineers, politicians, retirees, stay-at-home-moms. There are hunters and vegetarians; Republicans and Democrats. Any polar opposites you can think of, they are represented somewhere in the running community. And, while I may not agree with everything a person does in his or her private life or understand everything that he or she may stand for, if we can run together at an amicable pace, then typically we can get along just fine.
Runners and the running community is my "tribe," if you will, the group of people with whom I get along most. There seems to be something about tying your running shoes and heading out the door that allows a person to leave everything else behind. When we are all huffing and puffing in the chill winter air, or gasping for breath in a summer sauna, there is only one thing that matters - do you love running? And can you talk to and accept other people who love running too? For the most part, the answer is yes.
With the end of season comes a kind of changing of the guard. While I, and another lady who runs regularly during the school year, will be able to make it, two others who are teachers and can only come during June, July, and August have had to say their good-byes until the next school vacation allows them to attend.
While this is all bittersweet, it reminds me that this is part of what is so lovely about running. More than anything else in my life - any hobby or circle of friends - running has allowed me the joy of being able to get to know a wide variety of people from all walks of life. There are teachers, engineers, politicians, retirees, stay-at-home-moms. There are hunters and vegetarians; Republicans and Democrats. Any polar opposites you can think of, they are represented somewhere in the running community. And, while I may not agree with everything a person does in his or her private life or understand everything that he or she may stand for, if we can run together at an amicable pace, then typically we can get along just fine.
Runners and the running community is my "tribe," if you will, the group of people with whom I get along most. There seems to be something about tying your running shoes and heading out the door that allows a person to leave everything else behind. When we are all huffing and puffing in the chill winter air, or gasping for breath in a summer sauna, there is only one thing that matters - do you love running? And can you talk to and accept other people who love running too? For the most part, the answer is yes.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Time for a Break?
It seems to me that the most successful runners, who I know personally, have a certain ebb and flow to their training plans, which gives their bodies a break once in a while. It has also not escaped my notice in recent months that I have been tired - not only in body, but mind and spirit as well. All this combined had led me to entertain the need to take a break from running after I complete (hopefully!) my marathon in a week and a half. In fact, I had really embraced the idea. I was relishing taking some time to NOT train for anything, to NOT having a race goal, to really just running for fun and as the whim struck. Then maybe, with any luck, I could come back smarter and stronger.
Okay, that was a couple months ago.
Then my foot got hurt.
So, I didn't run.
So, I cross-trained.
Then the foot started feeling better.
And, suddenly, I am left with this feeling that I don't really want to take a break anymore. Maybe it was the fact that I got a small break there with the foot injury. Maybe you don't really know what you have until it's gone. Maybe it was the blog I read this morning that outlined all these kick-ass trail races lined up like ducks in a row on the blogger's race plan. Suddenly, though, I don't want to take a break. Rather, I want to start looking for races to do.
So, where does this leave me? Obviously, the whims of a runner - at least this average runner - can peak and wane at a moment's notice, and to be honest I am not sure if I should follow this peak to see where it leads or stick with the original plan and take some time to really consider where I want things to go for me in the next year. Try to go longer? Try to go faster? Or just run for fun? No right answer; no wrong answer. Time to think.
In the meantime, I did decide that I didn't want to completely bail on the Fox Cities Marathon this year....my "hometown" race. I have done the marathon once and the half marathon a number of times. With it being two weeks post-Moose Mountain, though, I never did sign up for an event this year, thinking I would wait and see how I felt. But races wait for no man, or woman, and I was surprised when both the full and half events filled. Not one to be left out, I am in the process of throwing together one of the most quickly assembled relay teams I have ever taken part in. Should be interesting!
In other news, I went ahead and ordered the Pearl Izumi shirt I had been eyeing, but now there is a very real chance I may not get it in time for my trail race. When I got the email confirmation this morning saying the item would be shipped on Tuesday, September 3, I called them up and cried foul! Well, not really, but I did ask if there was a reason for the delay. Apparently, the item comes directly from Pearl Izumi and they are in no hurry to send things out. So, I did what any self-respecting runner (with no real self-respect) would do, and I asked the customer service rep to please contact the company and let them know that their customer is desperate to receive said item by Wednesday, September 4. I am sure it will have no impact, but I did what I could and if it somehow helps the shirt get to me sooner, so much the better. I mean, it is all about my happiness, right? Now, watch. I will get this shirt on time, wear it, and wonder what all the hype was about. It's pretty rare when I buy something without due consideration, so it would serve me right to have the one time I don't do a ton of research on turn out to be a bad buy.
Happy Tuesday!
Okay, that was a couple months ago.
Then my foot got hurt.
So, I didn't run.
So, I cross-trained.
Then the foot started feeling better.
And, suddenly, I am left with this feeling that I don't really want to take a break anymore. Maybe it was the fact that I got a small break there with the foot injury. Maybe you don't really know what you have until it's gone. Maybe it was the blog I read this morning that outlined all these kick-ass trail races lined up like ducks in a row on the blogger's race plan. Suddenly, though, I don't want to take a break. Rather, I want to start looking for races to do.
So, where does this leave me? Obviously, the whims of a runner - at least this average runner - can peak and wane at a moment's notice, and to be honest I am not sure if I should follow this peak to see where it leads or stick with the original plan and take some time to really consider where I want things to go for me in the next year. Try to go longer? Try to go faster? Or just run for fun? No right answer; no wrong answer. Time to think.
In the meantime, I did decide that I didn't want to completely bail on the Fox Cities Marathon this year....my "hometown" race. I have done the marathon once and the half marathon a number of times. With it being two weeks post-Moose Mountain, though, I never did sign up for an event this year, thinking I would wait and see how I felt. But races wait for no man, or woman, and I was surprised when both the full and half events filled. Not one to be left out, I am in the process of throwing together one of the most quickly assembled relay teams I have ever taken part in. Should be interesting!
In other news, I went ahead and ordered the Pearl Izumi shirt I had been eyeing, but now there is a very real chance I may not get it in time for my trail race. When I got the email confirmation this morning saying the item would be shipped on Tuesday, September 3, I called them up and cried foul! Well, not really, but I did ask if there was a reason for the delay. Apparently, the item comes directly from Pearl Izumi and they are in no hurry to send things out. So, I did what any self-respecting runner (with no real self-respect) would do, and I asked the customer service rep to please contact the company and let them know that their customer is desperate to receive said item by Wednesday, September 4. I am sure it will have no impact, but I did what I could and if it somehow helps the shirt get to me sooner, so much the better. I mean, it is all about my happiness, right? Now, watch. I will get this shirt on time, wear it, and wonder what all the hype was about. It's pretty rare when I buy something without due consideration, so it would serve me right to have the one time I don't do a ton of research on turn out to be a bad buy.
Happy Tuesday!
Monday, August 26, 2013
On-the-Fly Training
So, I slowly seem to be developing a style of training for my running that I can live with. I like to call it On-The-Fly training. The basic idea of it is that you have a vague idea of what you need to accomplish during the week to come, so then you just look at your calendar at the beginning of the week and plug all the elements in to where they fit.
Yesterday's long run was meant to be 12 miles or two to two and a half hours on trails. As it turned out, it was both. My friend Amy and I managed 12.22 miles in just under two and a half hours. That's not bad considering I didn't stop my watch while taking pictures, etc. We headed over to High Cliff State Park to run the bridle trails there, and it was really quite nice. While I have run some of the horse trails, I hadn't run the outer loop of them. I didn't realize how scenic or hilly that area was. I definitely will want to be running those a bit more in the future.
Stellar!
So, for example, this week I know I need to work in two moderate-length runs (I am in taper, after all), one of which I would like to be on trail. I also need a long run over the weekend, and one or two bike rides. If it fits, I could also throw in a recovery run today, but that is not a huge deal breaker for me.
So, looking at my week, here are the factors that influence when I get to do all this stuff, in no particular order.
- Weather - While I will run through most weather, including the current heat wave we seem to be experiencing, I will not run in a thunderstorm if I can help it. Scattered storms today, and storms possible most of tomorrow. Monday and Tuesday runs seem unlikely.
- Parental Availability - I am extremely lucky that my parents, fondly referred to as the GPs, live close to us, are retired, and love to spend time with their grandkids. They are almost always willing and able to watch the kids when needed, and that is especially important now when the kids are still on summer break. Of course, that all being said, they do have their own lives and volunteer quite extensively, so as the years go by, I find myself checking their calendar more and more. GPs available most of the week. Yay!
- The husband's running/work schedule - When you live with someone who works full-time and whose hobby is running ultramarathons, you have to learn to be flexible. While the husband mostly gets up before the crack of dawn to do his workouts and runs both weekend days, he is also flexible and accommodating. (This is how marriage works, right?) Coming down to crunch time with his 100-miler, though, my main concern is are there days he is running or biking to work? Since he is also in taper mode, his schedule is not too much of a concern this week. Hurray!
- Anyone else want to run with me - More and more, I am liking the group run thing, so if someone says they want to meet to run, I will try to juggle things around to do that.
So, as for this week, since the rain is persisting this Monday morning, and I don't think the kids will like playing on the rain-slicked play equipment at the park, a recovery run is most likely out for me today. That's okay. I can also partake in recovery cleaning or recovery errand-running or some such. The main thing is just to keep moving this day after my long run.
There is a group run Wednesday and a friend who wants to run trails Thursday, so there are my two mid-week runs. Since we have family coming in from out of town on Saturday evening, that influences when my long run will be - most likely Saturday morning. That just leaves two days to plug in bike rides. Since tomorrow is stormy, that leaves Friday.
Easy peasy! And, just like that, a week's worth of training is scheduled. A week on either side of this one could look completely different, but that's the beauty of the On-the-Fly plan....it just doesn't matter.
As disorganized as this may seem to be, the past couple of weeks, On-the-Fly has been working for me quite well. It seems so much more stress-free not being so rigid in the days I do things, and I think I am to the point where my body can take a bit of spontaneity in the training plan. As long as I listen to what it is telling me, that is, and I am getting better at that.
As for this past weekend, the family had a good - albeit NOT stress-free - bike ride on Saturday. We ended up taking a roadtrip to Two Rivers, Wisconsin, where we biked the Rawley Point trail for six miles from Two Rivers, through Point Beach State Forest to the lighthouse on Lake Michigan. It was a gorgeous ride on crushed limestone paths, which twisted and turned through the trees, crossed bridges, and went up and down small hills. The scenery was wonderful, the ride nice, but the company not so much 100 percent. At about the three-mile mark, E. decided she was going to pitch a fit because she wasn't enjoying the ride anymore. So much for hoping they would have fond memories of biking. Oh well, at least the first half of the ride was nice.
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| Rawley Point Trail in Two Rivers |
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| View from the bridle paths. |
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| A hot and humid run in the fields. Nice breeze, though! |
Happy Monday!
Saturday, August 24, 2013
What to do, what to do, put some mustard in my (running) shoe...
Woke up this morning
Feelin' sort of blue...Woo, woo, woo
Caught in a bind
Don't know what to do...Doo, doo, doo
It sounds like a bad country-western song, but sometimes these types of cheesy non-lyrics are true...true, true, true.
It's getting towards the end of summer, and I have been hearing a lot of "I'm bored. There's nothing to do" from the kidlets. While I have gotten used to hearing this song and dance from them, it's rare when I wake up with practically the same thought going through my head. In my case, however, it's not that I have nothing to do, it's just that I am filled with a restlessness of spirit that probably has to do with my marathon in two weeks. (This always happens to me, so at least I am learning to recognize it.)
As I start slowly backing off the exercise routine a bit, giving myself an excuse to ease up on the duration of my workouts, my brain seems to go into overdrive. Now is actually a good time to start thinking about the race, because there are a lot of race day details I need to figure out - how long might this race take me? What kind of stuff should I pack in my hydration pack? What and how many food items should I carry? Extra clothes? How can I get my hydration pack to sit better and not chafe? Should I buy a new shirt to help with that? Do I need bear spray? You know, the usual questions. The problem is that my "restlessness" manifests itself in a certain lack of focus that seems to impact all aspects of my life - including race day preparations.
So, I wake up in the morning thinking to myself nothing to do, when if fact I have a ton to do. So, to help me get myself organized, here is my short list of immediate needs (race-related, of course):
In the meantime today, though, I need to ponder whether to go to the farmer's market or not. I really like getting my produce from there in the summer, but the Saturday market is always such a zoo. Wednesday's market is a bit more manageable. The kids sure do like these little gems, though:
Later today, it's off to another bike riding adventure with the kids. This one will involve my parents' car, a bit of a roadtrip, some amazing scenery, and two whining-dragging-their-heels kids who will claim they hate to bike until they are actually doing it. But, a few miles of adventure is worth a bit of whining. My hope is that despite the negativity we as parents field doing some of these activities that someday they will look back on these memories as some of their fondest ones.
From our last biking "adventure"...
Feelin' sort of blue...Woo, woo, woo
Caught in a bind
Don't know what to do...Doo, doo, doo
It sounds like a bad country-western song, but sometimes these types of cheesy non-lyrics are true...true, true, true.
It's getting towards the end of summer, and I have been hearing a lot of "I'm bored. There's nothing to do" from the kidlets. While I have gotten used to hearing this song and dance from them, it's rare when I wake up with practically the same thought going through my head. In my case, however, it's not that I have nothing to do, it's just that I am filled with a restlessness of spirit that probably has to do with my marathon in two weeks. (This always happens to me, so at least I am learning to recognize it.)
As I start slowly backing off the exercise routine a bit, giving myself an excuse to ease up on the duration of my workouts, my brain seems to go into overdrive. Now is actually a good time to start thinking about the race, because there are a lot of race day details I need to figure out - how long might this race take me? What kind of stuff should I pack in my hydration pack? What and how many food items should I carry? Extra clothes? How can I get my hydration pack to sit better and not chafe? Should I buy a new shirt to help with that? Do I need bear spray? You know, the usual questions. The problem is that my "restlessness" manifests itself in a certain lack of focus that seems to impact all aspects of my life - including race day preparations.
So, I wake up in the morning thinking to myself nothing to do, when if fact I have a ton to do. So, to help me get myself organized, here is my short list of immediate needs (race-related, of course):- First and foremost, figure out the hydration pack. I recently bought an Ultimate Direction AK race vest, and I really like the idea of it. The problem is that the one and only time I wore it, it really chafed my neckline terribly on one side. Now, granted, that first run with it was a 15-miler on trails and monster hills (so, closer to three hours worth of running) and it was humid that day - so lots of sweating. Except for the chafing, I really liked the vest. I use Ultimate Direction bottles anyway, so I like that I can carry two of them tucked into chest pockets. They are easily accessible and it makes it easy to monitor how much I am drinking. Anyway, I need to see if I can adjust the straps to get a better fit.
- Look into buying a new shirt. I have my eye on a Pearl Izumi Ultra Inside Out Quarter-Zip Short-Sleeved shirt. (Not too picky, am I?) A friend of mine recently wore that shirt for the Leadville 100 and gave it two thumbs up. My husband also owns this shirt and likes it as well. I like the idea of it, because I think the higher collar will help with my chafing issues, plus it has patches on the shoulders that supposedly help hydration packs stay in place. The problem is that they are expensive. (I was kind of hoping for a well-timed sale.)
- Enough food to finish. Although I originally equated this race with my 50K seven-and-a-half-hour finish, after seeing the race results from last year and running some trails recently (and paying more attention to how long that takes me), I am thinking this could take me upwards of 9.5 hours to finish. So, I need to exactly determine how many Clif Blocks, Gu Brew blend, etc., etc. that I need to take.
- Find some gloves. I have heard from a couple of sources that there are spots where you actually need to pull yourself up hills (or hold yourself back going downhill) using trees. If that is the case, I want some hand protection. I think a pair of garden-variety (sic) gardening gloves would work, but if I could find a pair of cheap gloves that would double as cycling gloves later, that would be great.
- Make a final determination if I am going to wear my Saucony Xodus trail shoes or not. I have been told I need trail shoes for this race, but these slip a little on the heels when I run in them. Unfortunately, I don't have a good back-up plan, as those are my only trail shoes. If I choose not to wear them, I would go with my Cortanas. If I do decide to wear them, then I need to put some velcro on them so I can attach some gaiters. Decisions, decisions.
In the meantime today, though, I need to ponder whether to go to the farmer's market or not. I really like getting my produce from there in the summer, but the Saturday market is always such a zoo. Wednesday's market is a bit more manageable. The kids sure do like these little gems, though:
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| Ground cherries! |
From our last biking "adventure"...
Friday, August 23, 2013
This and That
Well, it's almost been two years since I started this blog, and I am still not exactly sure where I am going with it or what I hope to achieve. I find myself struggling at times to really open up to the blogging world, and I realize that probably doesn't make for very interesting blog material, but that's me. I guess I can only share so much. Personality-wise, I tend to be a bit wishy-washy in nature and can't really bring myself to be too gung-ho about anything. For me, that means I tend to go with the flow a lot - and that is not a bad thing. But for blogging purposes, you won't see me getting all fired up about a topic and running with it, so to speak. But maybe that is what blogging is about. I don't know. I suppose it can be anything I want it to be.
Anyway, I find myself thinking a lot lately about the race that actually started this blog. My first ever Pikes Peak Ascent two years ago. (Read about that experience here in "Moving Mountains.")
I thought it would make an interesting story and I decided to take a chance and put it out there for everyone to read. Since then I have had a lot of running adventures, highs and lows, and I have written about many of them. Lately, I have been in a bit of a lull. I am not sure what brought that on, but it's been hard to get all excited about the writing. I have started and stopped a couple of times in that period, randomly sharing posts on different events and happenings, but it's hard to get all into the blog writing thing (at least for me) when you don't have a direction for things. That, and summer has just been damn busy.
Maybe it's the fact that school will be starting again soon for the kids, but I find myself wanting (yet again) to get back to the writing. So, here I am. Again.
So, in thinking back on the first post I ever wrote here, I realize I find myself now thinking ahead to Pikes Peak 2014. I really want to do the marathon in 2014. My husband and I have been talking about that for some time. Originally, the way the conversation played out was that 2014 was to be the year that *possibly* the Leadville 100 and Pikes Peak would be on separate weekends. Normally, they overlap. I am not exactly sure why my husband is convinced they may not overlap in 2014, but I'll go with that. Also, originally, 2014 would be the last year that I could sign up for the Double, based on my 2011 Ascent qualification. (Now, granted, I am not sure I want to do both the Ascent on Saturday and the full marathon on Sunday, but it's nice to have options.) Since, at the minimum, I want to do the Pikes Peak Marathon and he wants to do Leadville, if things work out the way we had hoped, this would all be great.
Things have changed a bit since we really discussed this last, though. Pikes Peak is talking about going from a three-year qualification window to a two-year window. That sucks for me because then I wouldn't have the option of doing the Double. Okay, fine. I could still sign up for the marathon...but barely. You see, to "qualify" for wave 2 of the marathon (the non-elite wave, obviously), you have to have a qualifying marathon time of sub-5:30. Now I am not a fast marathoner, but at least my 2011 Lakefront Marathon was sub-5 hours, and I was proud of that. Now, though, I have to use my Disney Marathon time from 2013, where my net time was 5:28:46. So, you're probably thinking, quit your bitching then. You've got this, right? And, yes, technically, as long as they take the net time and not the clock time, I guess it still works as a qualifier. But I would have preferred to have a bit more padding. I am not sure why. Maybe it's just that I am worried that they'll change the qualifying times too and I'll be screwed. I don't have another marathon in the plan between now and then, and even if I did there is no guarantee I could get a better qualifying time anyway.
So, I wait.
And, this is the part about racing that I hate.
There is a race I want to do, but I can't sign up for it for another SIX to SEVEN months! What's up with that? Don't these people know that there are people chomping at the bit to commit to their race! Add to that the stress that the last time I signed up I literally had to sit at the computer and wait for registration to open - because it sold out so quickly. So, I have to wait six or seven months to even find out if I can register in time. If I can't, what a bummer. :)
Ah well, in the meantime, I have a real-live race that I am signed up for, and it is in two weeks. It's the Moose Mountain Marathon on the Superior Hiking Trail in Minnesota. By all accounts, this event will be harder than the 50K I did on the Ice Age Trail in May. To say I am a bit nervous about it is an understatement. Just reading their tagline of "rugged, relentless, remote" sends butterflies through my stomach, and I am not sure what to expect. Have I prepared enough? I'll know in just over two weeks.
I have no idea what a realistic finishing time expectation for me might be, but considering last year's results show almost a third of the field took over seven hours to finish I can expect it will take me a while. With only an aid station every seven miles and a hydration pack that chafed the crap out of my neckline on a fifteen-miler a couple of weeks ago, I have a lot of race day details to work out.
Of course, on the plus side of things, my runs lately - while not fast - have felt strong. So, there's hope, I guess.
Does anyone take the advice "do what scares you" as seriously as I apparently do?
Anyway, I find myself thinking a lot lately about the race that actually started this blog. My first ever Pikes Peak Ascent two years ago. (Read about that experience here in "Moving Mountains.")
I thought it would make an interesting story and I decided to take a chance and put it out there for everyone to read. Since then I have had a lot of running adventures, highs and lows, and I have written about many of them. Lately, I have been in a bit of a lull. I am not sure what brought that on, but it's been hard to get all excited about the writing. I have started and stopped a couple of times in that period, randomly sharing posts on different events and happenings, but it's hard to get all into the blog writing thing (at least for me) when you don't have a direction for things. That, and summer has just been damn busy.
Maybe it's the fact that school will be starting again soon for the kids, but I find myself wanting (yet again) to get back to the writing. So, here I am. Again.
So, in thinking back on the first post I ever wrote here, I realize I find myself now thinking ahead to Pikes Peak 2014. I really want to do the marathon in 2014. My husband and I have been talking about that for some time. Originally, the way the conversation played out was that 2014 was to be the year that *possibly* the Leadville 100 and Pikes Peak would be on separate weekends. Normally, they overlap. I am not exactly sure why my husband is convinced they may not overlap in 2014, but I'll go with that. Also, originally, 2014 would be the last year that I could sign up for the Double, based on my 2011 Ascent qualification. (Now, granted, I am not sure I want to do both the Ascent on Saturday and the full marathon on Sunday, but it's nice to have options.) Since, at the minimum, I want to do the Pikes Peak Marathon and he wants to do Leadville, if things work out the way we had hoped, this would all be great.
Things have changed a bit since we really discussed this last, though. Pikes Peak is talking about going from a three-year qualification window to a two-year window. That sucks for me because then I wouldn't have the option of doing the Double. Okay, fine. I could still sign up for the marathon...but barely. You see, to "qualify" for wave 2 of the marathon (the non-elite wave, obviously), you have to have a qualifying marathon time of sub-5:30. Now I am not a fast marathoner, but at least my 2011 Lakefront Marathon was sub-5 hours, and I was proud of that. Now, though, I have to use my Disney Marathon time from 2013, where my net time was 5:28:46. So, you're probably thinking, quit your bitching then. You've got this, right? And, yes, technically, as long as they take the net time and not the clock time, I guess it still works as a qualifier. But I would have preferred to have a bit more padding. I am not sure why. Maybe it's just that I am worried that they'll change the qualifying times too and I'll be screwed. I don't have another marathon in the plan between now and then, and even if I did there is no guarantee I could get a better qualifying time anyway.
So, I wait.
And, this is the part about racing that I hate.
There is a race I want to do, but I can't sign up for it for another SIX to SEVEN months! What's up with that? Don't these people know that there are people chomping at the bit to commit to their race! Add to that the stress that the last time I signed up I literally had to sit at the computer and wait for registration to open - because it sold out so quickly. So, I have to wait six or seven months to even find out if I can register in time. If I can't, what a bummer. :)
Ah well, in the meantime, I have a real-live race that I am signed up for, and it is in two weeks. It's the Moose Mountain Marathon on the Superior Hiking Trail in Minnesota. By all accounts, this event will be harder than the 50K I did on the Ice Age Trail in May. To say I am a bit nervous about it is an understatement. Just reading their tagline of "rugged, relentless, remote" sends butterflies through my stomach, and I am not sure what to expect. Have I prepared enough? I'll know in just over two weeks.
I have no idea what a realistic finishing time expectation for me might be, but considering last year's results show almost a third of the field took over seven hours to finish I can expect it will take me a while. With only an aid station every seven miles and a hydration pack that chafed the crap out of my neckline on a fifteen-miler a couple of weeks ago, I have a lot of race day details to work out.
Of course, on the plus side of things, my runs lately - while not fast - have felt strong. So, there's hope, I guess.
Does anyone take the advice "do what scares you" as seriously as I apparently do?
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Run the Keweenaw 25K Race Report
Do you want to challenge yourself? Take your trail running to the next level? (Or maybe skip a few levels?) Do you have masochistic running tendencies but prefer to sugar-coat them in a shroud of eye-popping scenery? Well, then have I got a race for you.
Husband and I recently trekked up to the far northern reaches of Michigan's upper peninsula (the U.P. or the "Yoop") for a race that would teach me humility and kick my ass at the same time, all while surrounding me with an environment that made me want to say, "Please, race, give me more!"
The Run the Keweenaw weekend of races was held July 13-14, and I successfully completed the 25K Keweenaw Trails Run held on that Sunday. (Two other events, the 6K Mt. Baldy Summit Run and the 12K Copper Harbor Trails Challenge, were both held on Saturday, as were the kids' 2K fun run.)
According to their website, Run the Keweenaw is organized by the Copper Country Ski Tigers and the Keweenaw Trails Alliance. This is a race that originally was started by Great Lakes Endurance, but when they decided to pull the plug on it, the locals took it over. That's how committed they are to the event. Solomon is a big supporter of the race, which makes it appealing. (After all, who doesn't want some Solomon swag?) To say this run is low-key, however, is an understatement. When the calendar flipped from April to May of this year and there was still no sign of registration opening up, I started to get antsy. An email sent to the contact address, however, solicited an immediate response and registration opened later that same week. Okay, we were in. Time to make plans.
Part of the charm of this event is that if you are the type of person who thinks if a little is good, then more must be better, they really have a category for you. The Run the Keweenaw (or RTK) category allows you to sign up for all three race events - and vie for awards in that series. Cool, huh? After all, who doesn't want to race a 6K Saturday morning (which is actually 12K because they neglect to tell you that once you reach the finish at the top of the mountain you still have to get your sorry ass back down), sit around getting all stiff and not knowing what to eat for eight hours, and then run a 12K at 5 p.m. that evening? And then get up the next morning and run those crazy trails all over again - for twice the distance?
Right. As it turns out, a lot of people want to do that including my husband, so that is what he signed up for. If you are not quite so masochistic, however, there are plenty of options for you too. In fact, the beauty of the weekend and how the races are all spaced out is that you can mix and match the events however you want. It's kind of an la carte race opportunity, versus a set menu type of thang. And, that is what I decided to do, namely, the Mt. Baldy Summit Run and the 25K.
So, those were the big plans. The reality of the situation for me was that a few weeks before this event, I seem to have developed a neuroma in one foot. That meant, no hills for moi. Poopers. So, decisions had to be made. Long story short, I opted to drop the 6K Summit Run and just put everything I had into the 25K. As an option, I could have switched to the 12K (the race officials were really accommodating), but I figured if I were in for 12, I might as well go for 25. So, on to race day....
The morning of race day dawned nice and clear. And, after two nights of tent camping I was well rested (not!). For being so far north, it was actually pretty warm with high humidity in the air. (Lucky us.) Our campsite was a mere minutes away from the start in downtown Copper Harbor, and with only 40 or so people in the race, parking wasn't a big issue. So, having bug-sprayed myself to within an inch of my life (mosquitos and black flies were thick), it was time to get going.
The start isn't that memorable for me for some reason. Consisting of a person at the start line looking at his watch, there may have been a gun, an air-horn, or simply a shout of "go!" To be honest, I don't know. All I do know is that before I knew it we were off.
Leaving the start area at the community center's parking lot, the route immediately puts you onto a trail that traces the edge of a pond. The wide, meadow-like swath that we had to follow lulls you into a false sense of "I've got this"-itis. I found myself quickly falling into step behind some other runners who seemed to be going a reasonable pace. (I hadn't worn my watch so had no sense of what that reasonable pace might actually be) and soon was making small talk with a lady who drove up from Oshkosh - my neck of the woods, so to speak. It all seemed to be going splediferously when the first obstacle reared its ugly head - a large section of river rock...you know, those ueber-large round pebble-like stones that people like to put in their garden? Well, Copper Harbor is rotten with them. Have I mentioned the neuroma in my foot?
(For those not in the know, let me explain what a neuroma is. According to the Mayo Clinic's website, it "involves a thickening of the tissue around one of the nerves leading to your toes." Even if this isn't a neuroma, but say a stone bruise or a touch of tendonitis, for me the end result is the same. There is inflammation right under the ball of my foot. So, yeah, see where I am going here? Running on rocks doesn't really feel that great.)
In fact, I have to say, that given the givens, this was probably the WORST possible event I could have picked for my foot: large rocks, rampant uphills, crazy single-track trail - all the fun stuff I am NOT supposed to be doing right now while this recovers. Ah well.
After picking my way through the rocks of doom and cutting over an actual city street, we were shunted onto a mountain-biking trail, and there we would mostly remain for the rest of our 25K jaunt.
The first five miles or so took us up, up, up to the top of Mount Brockway. This was mainly on single-track trail, up a series of switchbacks, through the ferns and wooded hills. Given the foot and the fact that I would do it anyway, I started walking the hills I came across, which were plentiful. See, while the overall net elevation change was a gain here, it was actually masked in an infinite series of small inclines and straightaways. So, while some races might say you'll go up 600 feet and you just climb up, this was an endless tease of up, done. Up, done. Etc. Needless to say, it was not long before I started slipping off the back of the pack. The one saving grace was that the gentleman in front of me had the same obnoxious neon orange colored shirt on that I did. So, occasionally, I would catch glimpses of him through the trees, but for the most part I was on my own.
This aloneness was never felt so keenly as when I thought I came across a bear. Now, in my defense, I had bears on the brain. In Wisconsin there had been a couple of news stories recently about bear attacks, and I have a couple of friends who have encountered bears while driving, walking, and running, etc. I have heard more about bears in recent weeks than I could bear. Couple that with the fact that everywhere you turn in the U.P. they "educate" you about the native black bear - and, yeah, I had bears on the brain.
So, when I was on the trail, all by myself, in those first few miles and came across a musky, not-very-pleasant stench, immediately followed by a tremendous crashing in the ferns off to my right, I froze. I had visited a bear rescue last summer in the U.P., and while I cannot with pinpoint certainty claim that what I smelled was bear - in fact, my rational mind finds it really hard to believe there would be one around when all the other runners had gone by not that long before me - I do have to say that is what my mind screamed at me as I came to a dead stop. And, I repeat, I have never felt more alone than in that moment. I was traversing a series of long switchbacks and where I stopped happened to be at the turn. Standing there, breathing hard, heart pounding, I wasn't sure what to do, because either direction I took on the trail would take me right past where the noise had been. In the end, I continued on, because going back didn't change proximity issues, and - really - the goal lay ahead. Although I finally did end up laughing at myself a bit for my perceived foolishness, I have to say that the rest of the run was characterized by me talking and singing quite loudly to myself.
So, after I was able to put the scene of that weirdness in my rearview, I continued on for a while without incident. It wasn't long, however, before I started to hear howling noises. Shit. Really? Are there wolves, too? So, by now you can tell I am a city girl. Every noise is suspect in the woods, I guess. Of course, I was really alone. I mentioned that, right? Sucks to be last and slow. That's not to say, I never was aware of other runners. As I mentioned, I did see the guy in orange occasionally. And, every now and again, I would hear talking or laughing, as the runners ahead of me neared me on a switchback somewhere above. Although creepy in and of itself, it was strangely comforting at the same time.
So, the howling. I probably ran a mile thinking that there was a wolf pack somewhere before I finally figured out that those weren't wolves I was hearing, but rather cheers. And that every time there was a "howl" it must be because a runner had gone by. Sure enough, after a while, I popped around a corner of the trail and there before me was a large group of people in the woods, on the side of the mountain, having a picnic and cheering the runners on. Unreal. But funny.
It's about this time, too, that I noticed the sweep bike behind me for the first time. Oh no! Run faster!
So, it's always darkest before the dawn, and so it was in this race too. After entering one of the darkest patches of woods I would swear I have ever been in (think Fairy Tale dark), I popped out onto a road - to not only an aid station, but also one of the most breathtaking views I had ever seen (mostly because it was unexpected).
After accepting a cup of "aid" (the volunteer didn't know what brand it was and more's the pity because it tasted good) and allowing myself to be reassured that the sweeper wasn't going to DQ me for slowness (Remember Jungfrau? I think I worried more about the bike than the bear at that point.), I continued on my journey along the ridgeline of the mountain. If I had been more cognizant about my whereabouts, I might have feared for my life. The dropoff appeared pretty severe the next day when we hiked this self-same patch of trail with the kids. However, during the race, I barely took note of it. In fact, there were a couple of other places during the run that I might have worried more if I had paid attention...notably a wood-slat bridge that was clinging to a side of the mountain in the woods, and a signed "Cliff!" on the trail at one point. A false step on any one of these would have been a cruel race ender.
Leaving the ridgeline, the next several miles were a wonderful, joy-filled, "yahoo"-yell of a downhill jaunt, initiated by a weird little series of wood-slat bridge, slalom-like switchbacks.
This was followed by more traditional trail switchbacks, which had me feeling like I was flying through the woods at lightning speed. In fact, I was having such a great time, I had visions of passing people until I realized they would have been gleefully flying down the trail at that point, too.
At about mile 6-7 in here is when I did encounter some real Michigan wildlife, which almost left me too hurt to continue the race. Yes, a chipmunk jumped out of the bushes. Now, this may sound funny and overly dramatic, but when you are dealing with a sore foot, the last thing you need is to emergency jump a critter that then has you landing with excessive force on the hurt foot. Ouch. The sad thing is I *still* may have just nipped the little bugger's tail as I landed. Anyway, things slowed down a bit after that while I tried to sort out what damage, if any, had been done.
As I continued running, I was happy that it seemed that I may have gotten away with my little leap. My taped foot was holding up, and while it was certainly more sore now, it didn't seem to be sore to the point of needing to DNF myself. (By the way, here are a couple of pix of my foot all taped up post-race. Like all the dirt on my ankle? Love them trails!)
So, here is one of those parts of the trail that is a little hard to explain, but if you are into mountain biking or crazy versions of downhill skiing, then this will make sense. However, we ran through a long series of moguls on the trail. Yes, they are probably what you are thinking of: short little STEEP hills about four feet high or so and at such an angle that it would help if you could run on your toes (which I was trying not to do because of the foot). So, I ended up using momentum to carry me over most of these.... I would run down a little hill and use my momentum to start up the next. That would carry me almost to the top, where I would walk a couple steps to the crest, then run down the hill, etc. It was not the best thing for the foot, but it was different and fun in its own way.
So, at the start line, we had been told that there would be aid stations at miles 5, 7, and 12. Foolishly, I forgot to refill my water bottle at the first aid station (so overcome with emotion I was not to have been attacked by wildlife and to have survived the hill climb in the first five miles), but I comforted myself with the fact that I only had two miles to go until the next water station. After the long downhill, the chipmunk incident, and the moguls, I noticed I was running out of beverage, so I started nursing it along, ... and along, ... and along. When I finally popped out at the second aid station after catching yet another glimpse of the sweep bike (thankfully, he was spending a lot of time talking to the aid station volunteers and perhaps trying not to crowd me), I was ready to proclaim that stretch of race as the LONGEST two miles I had ever run in my life. As it turns out, though, it was actually four miles, which explained a lot of things, and went a long way towards making me feel better about the day to that point. I had even considered dropping out at that aid station, given how long it felt like it took me to get there. But now that I knew I only had six miles to go, I felt reinvigorated. Woot!
The aid station volunteers were so great to be standing around in mosquito heaven waiting for my sorry ass to turn up that I felt obliged to make a little small talk with them (okay, maybe it was nice to have some human contact before continuing my solo journey into the woods again). After some self-deprecating humor about how slow I was, I was amazed to hear them proclaim how they thought we were crazy and amazing - how they would NEVER run these trails. Of course, they were mountain bikers and ride them all the time. Uh huh. I had to eye them suspiciously, because of course who were the crazy ones now? I would sure as heck never bike those trails.
Much of the rest of the race has become a bit of a blur. From the second aid station, I started up a very long wood-slat bridge that seemed to go on forever. The next three miles (until the last aid station) was supposed to be uphill, and it was. There was supposed to be a section in there, though, called Stairway to Heaven, which I anticipated might be...well...stairs. Or at least a defined uphill slog. However, it wasn't. Stairway to Heaven is the name of one of the local trails (other awesome trail names include Der We Went, Woopidy Woo, and Dza Beet), and it is marked by a lot of those little wood-slat bridges (some seemingly clinging to the side of the mountain like a train track ("she'll be comin' round the mountain when she comes....")), single track trail, and rocky outcroppings to cross. However, whereas I had anticipated a well-defined uphill, this seemed more characterized by a subtle but persistent upward tick in terrain. In fact, it took me a while to figure out that was why I was walking so much. And here I thought I was just getting tired.
(By the way, if you want to check out one of the BEST examples of an online trail map ever, go here: http://www.copperharbortrails.org/trail-maps.)
With about a mile or so to go to the final aid station, I finally caught up to that guy in orange, who was doubled over at the top of a long incline. Although I had been trailing him for most of the race, he was having his own troubles. It turns out he was not trained for the distance due to injury, and the hills and trail experience and running the other races were just generally wearing him down. (As a side note, his son did quite well in most of the events, I later found out.) We ran together after that, and I have to say just having someone around perked me up a bit. I found I didn't take as many walk breaks, and I definitely picked up my pace a bit. I have said it before and I'll say it again: I am L-A-Z-Y. Left to my own devices, I don't push myself nearly as hard.
Popping out of the trail for the first significant time in nearly three hours was kind of surreal. It was like being lost at sea and suddenly being found (not that I have ever experienced that). Being on a road again was refreshing, and while I would like to say it put some pep in my step, that only lasted for a short stretch because it wasn't long before that road made a significant move up a hill, which had me and my new friend both walking. Towards the top of said hill, though, we finally made it to the final aid station at the side of a golf course. After spending so much time in the woods alone, it was weird to see people actually playing golf - seemed out of place. At the aid station, we realized we only had 5K left and it was almost all downhill. Woohoo! Here we go again - my favorite part.
I had a great time going downhill. My legs were tired, but I still had the energy to jump rocks and dance along the trail. Even my new friend commented on how I still had a lot of hop in my step. I don't know about that, but I knew I was almost done and doing my favorite part of trail running. My hop wasn't quite where it needed to be though, because I did catch my toe a few times. Luckily, however, I didn't fall. With about two miles to go, I think, I found myself running solo again, as the man in orange said he couldn't keep it going and wanted to slow down for the last bit. I continued on, drawn by the fact that I could practically taste the finish line.
Finally, FINISH LINE AHEAD. I came out of the woods to a road, and those were the words chalked on the pavement. This last stretch had us following the road back to the starting area. I told myself not to get too excited. After all, I didn't have a watch, so who knew what "ahead" meant. A half mile? A mile? Two? What I did know was that I was beyond ready to be done. I had had it with this race, with my foot, with my lack of conditioning, with the heat, the bugs, the imaginary wildlife, and even the shadow of that sweeper bike behind me. I wanted to STOP. When I finally came across the volunteer who turned me onto that last stretch of meadow trail (where we had started) and said it was just a short jaunt around the pond, I could have kissed him. Then I started that short jaunt, belatedly figuring out that we apparently had very different definitions of short. I ended up walking several times during my circuit of said pond. My legs were toast and I just didn't care anymore. Finally, though, FINALLY, the finish line. Relief.
I wasn't last. My friend in orange made sure of that, but I was second-to-last, and it took me about 3:40 to finish 15 miles. A new PR (the kind you don't usually aim for). I felt a bit bad coming in ahead of the man in orange given he was ahead of me for most of the race, but oh well. What are you going to do? At the finish, I was greeted by my husband, who had had his own turmoils that day after his two races the day before, and our friends and kids. A quick look around showed that while I had been lucky and not taken a spill on the trails, not everyone had been. There were some significant cuts and bruises going on, but I guess that can happen if you are faster than a walk for the whole race.
We stuck around to wait for the award ceremony to start, missing the runners' buffet breakfast that had been laid out. The husband was hoping he might place somewhere, but although it was a small crowd of participants, there were a lot of competitive folks with some talent. It turned out not to be his lucky day for the RTK, but he enjoyed the experience. For myself, I kind of wish I had run all three races, as I might have had a chance at the SISU award (a Finnish term for "perseverance"). As it was, though, we hung out and soaked up the bonhomie of the race crowd, caught some Solomon and Smartwool swag being tossed out to the crowd and enjoyed the continental-breakfast-to-go our friends were nice enough to carry out to us (after they had already taken our kids in to eat!)
So, if you made it this far in this posting, know that this was an AWESOME event. I may have not had the best day at it, but it was an amazing experience. It's out of the way, and I think that might prevent it from ever becoming huge, but I also think that is part of the appeal. The trails, while hard, were incredible, and the folks running the show just downright friendly and nice.
I so want to do this again.
There are so many other things I could talk about with this race, but I have to end this post somewhere. If anyone has any questions, though, let me know. I would be happy to answer them where I can.
As a final note, sorry about the lack of pictures, but I really didn't feel like carrying a camera this time around. And I am glad I didn't. If I had brought the camera, I probably would have been out there until dark.
Husband and I recently trekked up to the far northern reaches of Michigan's upper peninsula (the U.P. or the "Yoop") for a race that would teach me humility and kick my ass at the same time, all while surrounding me with an environment that made me want to say, "Please, race, give me more!"
The Run the Keweenaw weekend of races was held July 13-14, and I successfully completed the 25K Keweenaw Trails Run held on that Sunday. (Two other events, the 6K Mt. Baldy Summit Run and the 12K Copper Harbor Trails Challenge, were both held on Saturday, as were the kids' 2K fun run.)
According to their website, Run the Keweenaw is organized by the Copper Country Ski Tigers and the Keweenaw Trails Alliance. This is a race that originally was started by Great Lakes Endurance, but when they decided to pull the plug on it, the locals took it over. That's how committed they are to the event. Solomon is a big supporter of the race, which makes it appealing. (After all, who doesn't want some Solomon swag?) To say this run is low-key, however, is an understatement. When the calendar flipped from April to May of this year and there was still no sign of registration opening up, I started to get antsy. An email sent to the contact address, however, solicited an immediate response and registration opened later that same week. Okay, we were in. Time to make plans.
Part of the charm of this event is that if you are the type of person who thinks if a little is good, then more must be better, they really have a category for you. The Run the Keweenaw (or RTK) category allows you to sign up for all three race events - and vie for awards in that series. Cool, huh? After all, who doesn't want to race a 6K Saturday morning (which is actually 12K because they neglect to tell you that once you reach the finish at the top of the mountain you still have to get your sorry ass back down), sit around getting all stiff and not knowing what to eat for eight hours, and then run a 12K at 5 p.m. that evening? And then get up the next morning and run those crazy trails all over again - for twice the distance?
Right. As it turns out, a lot of people want to do that including my husband, so that is what he signed up for. If you are not quite so masochistic, however, there are plenty of options for you too. In fact, the beauty of the weekend and how the races are all spaced out is that you can mix and match the events however you want. It's kind of an la carte race opportunity, versus a set menu type of thang. And, that is what I decided to do, namely, the Mt. Baldy Summit Run and the 25K.
So, those were the big plans. The reality of the situation for me was that a few weeks before this event, I seem to have developed a neuroma in one foot. That meant, no hills for moi. Poopers. So, decisions had to be made. Long story short, I opted to drop the 6K Summit Run and just put everything I had into the 25K. As an option, I could have switched to the 12K (the race officials were really accommodating), but I figured if I were in for 12, I might as well go for 25. So, on to race day....
The morning of race day dawned nice and clear. And, after two nights of tent camping I was well rested (not!). For being so far north, it was actually pretty warm with high humidity in the air. (Lucky us.) Our campsite was a mere minutes away from the start in downtown Copper Harbor, and with only 40 or so people in the race, parking wasn't a big issue. So, having bug-sprayed myself to within an inch of my life (mosquitos and black flies were thick), it was time to get going.
The start isn't that memorable for me for some reason. Consisting of a person at the start line looking at his watch, there may have been a gun, an air-horn, or simply a shout of "go!" To be honest, I don't know. All I do know is that before I knew it we were off.
Leaving the start area at the community center's parking lot, the route immediately puts you onto a trail that traces the edge of a pond. The wide, meadow-like swath that we had to follow lulls you into a false sense of "I've got this"-itis. I found myself quickly falling into step behind some other runners who seemed to be going a reasonable pace. (I hadn't worn my watch so had no sense of what that reasonable pace might actually be) and soon was making small talk with a lady who drove up from Oshkosh - my neck of the woods, so to speak. It all seemed to be going splediferously when the first obstacle reared its ugly head - a large section of river rock...you know, those ueber-large round pebble-like stones that people like to put in their garden? Well, Copper Harbor is rotten with them. Have I mentioned the neuroma in my foot?
(For those not in the know, let me explain what a neuroma is. According to the Mayo Clinic's website, it "involves a thickening of the tissue around one of the nerves leading to your toes." Even if this isn't a neuroma, but say a stone bruise or a touch of tendonitis, for me the end result is the same. There is inflammation right under the ball of my foot. So, yeah, see where I am going here? Running on rocks doesn't really feel that great.)
In fact, I have to say, that given the givens, this was probably the WORST possible event I could have picked for my foot: large rocks, rampant uphills, crazy single-track trail - all the fun stuff I am NOT supposed to be doing right now while this recovers. Ah well.
After picking my way through the rocks of doom and cutting over an actual city street, we were shunted onto a mountain-biking trail, and there we would mostly remain for the rest of our 25K jaunt.
The first five miles or so took us up, up, up to the top of Mount Brockway. This was mainly on single-track trail, up a series of switchbacks, through the ferns and wooded hills. Given the foot and the fact that I would do it anyway, I started walking the hills I came across, which were plentiful. See, while the overall net elevation change was a gain here, it was actually masked in an infinite series of small inclines and straightaways. So, while some races might say you'll go up 600 feet and you just climb up, this was an endless tease of up, done. Up, done. Etc. Needless to say, it was not long before I started slipping off the back of the pack. The one saving grace was that the gentleman in front of me had the same obnoxious neon orange colored shirt on that I did. So, occasionally, I would catch glimpses of him through the trees, but for the most part I was on my own.
This aloneness was never felt so keenly as when I thought I came across a bear. Now, in my defense, I had bears on the brain. In Wisconsin there had been a couple of news stories recently about bear attacks, and I have a couple of friends who have encountered bears while driving, walking, and running, etc. I have heard more about bears in recent weeks than I could bear. Couple that with the fact that everywhere you turn in the U.P. they "educate" you about the native black bear - and, yeah, I had bears on the brain.
So, when I was on the trail, all by myself, in those first few miles and came across a musky, not-very-pleasant stench, immediately followed by a tremendous crashing in the ferns off to my right, I froze. I had visited a bear rescue last summer in the U.P., and while I cannot with pinpoint certainty claim that what I smelled was bear - in fact, my rational mind finds it really hard to believe there would be one around when all the other runners had gone by not that long before me - I do have to say that is what my mind screamed at me as I came to a dead stop. And, I repeat, I have never felt more alone than in that moment. I was traversing a series of long switchbacks and where I stopped happened to be at the turn. Standing there, breathing hard, heart pounding, I wasn't sure what to do, because either direction I took on the trail would take me right past where the noise had been. In the end, I continued on, because going back didn't change proximity issues, and - really - the goal lay ahead. Although I finally did end up laughing at myself a bit for my perceived foolishness, I have to say that the rest of the run was characterized by me talking and singing quite loudly to myself.
So, after I was able to put the scene of that weirdness in my rearview, I continued on for a while without incident. It wasn't long, however, before I started to hear howling noises. Shit. Really? Are there wolves, too? So, by now you can tell I am a city girl. Every noise is suspect in the woods, I guess. Of course, I was really alone. I mentioned that, right? Sucks to be last and slow. That's not to say, I never was aware of other runners. As I mentioned, I did see the guy in orange occasionally. And, every now and again, I would hear talking or laughing, as the runners ahead of me neared me on a switchback somewhere above. Although creepy in and of itself, it was strangely comforting at the same time.
So, the howling. I probably ran a mile thinking that there was a wolf pack somewhere before I finally figured out that those weren't wolves I was hearing, but rather cheers. And that every time there was a "howl" it must be because a runner had gone by. Sure enough, after a while, I popped around a corner of the trail and there before me was a large group of people in the woods, on the side of the mountain, having a picnic and cheering the runners on. Unreal. But funny.
It's about this time, too, that I noticed the sweep bike behind me for the first time. Oh no! Run faster!
So, it's always darkest before the dawn, and so it was in this race too. After entering one of the darkest patches of woods I would swear I have ever been in (think Fairy Tale dark), I popped out onto a road - to not only an aid station, but also one of the most breathtaking views I had ever seen (mostly because it was unexpected).
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| Walking the trail with the family the next day, here is the view I got.... |
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| We figured during the race we came down this mountain, traversed the valley a bit before climbing the mountain you see on the other side. |
After accepting a cup of "aid" (the volunteer didn't know what brand it was and more's the pity because it tasted good) and allowing myself to be reassured that the sweeper wasn't going to DQ me for slowness (Remember Jungfrau? I think I worried more about the bike than the bear at that point.), I continued on my journey along the ridgeline of the mountain. If I had been more cognizant about my whereabouts, I might have feared for my life. The dropoff appeared pretty severe the next day when we hiked this self-same patch of trail with the kids. However, during the race, I barely took note of it. In fact, there were a couple of other places during the run that I might have worried more if I had paid attention...notably a wood-slat bridge that was clinging to a side of the mountain in the woods, and a signed "Cliff!" on the trail at one point. A false step on any one of these would have been a cruel race ender.
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| My one official race photo - along the ridgeline - after surviving the first climb. |
This was followed by more traditional trail switchbacks, which had me feeling like I was flying through the woods at lightning speed. In fact, I was having such a great time, I had visions of passing people until I realized they would have been gleefully flying down the trail at that point, too.
At about mile 6-7 in here is when I did encounter some real Michigan wildlife, which almost left me too hurt to continue the race. Yes, a chipmunk jumped out of the bushes. Now, this may sound funny and overly dramatic, but when you are dealing with a sore foot, the last thing you need is to emergency jump a critter that then has you landing with excessive force on the hurt foot. Ouch. The sad thing is I *still* may have just nipped the little bugger's tail as I landed. Anyway, things slowed down a bit after that while I tried to sort out what damage, if any, had been done.
As I continued running, I was happy that it seemed that I may have gotten away with my little leap. My taped foot was holding up, and while it was certainly more sore now, it didn't seem to be sore to the point of needing to DNF myself. (By the way, here are a couple of pix of my foot all taped up post-race. Like all the dirt on my ankle? Love them trails!)
So, here is one of those parts of the trail that is a little hard to explain, but if you are into mountain biking or crazy versions of downhill skiing, then this will make sense. However, we ran through a long series of moguls on the trail. Yes, they are probably what you are thinking of: short little STEEP hills about four feet high or so and at such an angle that it would help if you could run on your toes (which I was trying not to do because of the foot). So, I ended up using momentum to carry me over most of these.... I would run down a little hill and use my momentum to start up the next. That would carry me almost to the top, where I would walk a couple steps to the crest, then run down the hill, etc. It was not the best thing for the foot, but it was different and fun in its own way.
So, at the start line, we had been told that there would be aid stations at miles 5, 7, and 12. Foolishly, I forgot to refill my water bottle at the first aid station (so overcome with emotion I was not to have been attacked by wildlife and to have survived the hill climb in the first five miles), but I comforted myself with the fact that I only had two miles to go until the next water station. After the long downhill, the chipmunk incident, and the moguls, I noticed I was running out of beverage, so I started nursing it along, ... and along, ... and along. When I finally popped out at the second aid station after catching yet another glimpse of the sweep bike (thankfully, he was spending a lot of time talking to the aid station volunteers and perhaps trying not to crowd me), I was ready to proclaim that stretch of race as the LONGEST two miles I had ever run in my life. As it turns out, though, it was actually four miles, which explained a lot of things, and went a long way towards making me feel better about the day to that point. I had even considered dropping out at that aid station, given how long it felt like it took me to get there. But now that I knew I only had six miles to go, I felt reinvigorated. Woot!
The aid station volunteers were so great to be standing around in mosquito heaven waiting for my sorry ass to turn up that I felt obliged to make a little small talk with them (okay, maybe it was nice to have some human contact before continuing my solo journey into the woods again). After some self-deprecating humor about how slow I was, I was amazed to hear them proclaim how they thought we were crazy and amazing - how they would NEVER run these trails. Of course, they were mountain bikers and ride them all the time. Uh huh. I had to eye them suspiciously, because of course who were the crazy ones now? I would sure as heck never bike those trails.
Much of the rest of the race has become a bit of a blur. From the second aid station, I started up a very long wood-slat bridge that seemed to go on forever. The next three miles (until the last aid station) was supposed to be uphill, and it was. There was supposed to be a section in there, though, called Stairway to Heaven, which I anticipated might be...well...stairs. Or at least a defined uphill slog. However, it wasn't. Stairway to Heaven is the name of one of the local trails (other awesome trail names include Der We Went, Woopidy Woo, and Dza Beet), and it is marked by a lot of those little wood-slat bridges (some seemingly clinging to the side of the mountain like a train track ("she'll be comin' round the mountain when she comes....")), single track trail, and rocky outcroppings to cross. However, whereas I had anticipated a well-defined uphill, this seemed more characterized by a subtle but persistent upward tick in terrain. In fact, it took me a while to figure out that was why I was walking so much. And here I thought I was just getting tired.
(By the way, if you want to check out one of the BEST examples of an online trail map ever, go here: http://www.copperharbortrails.org/trail-maps.)
With about a mile or so to go to the final aid station, I finally caught up to that guy in orange, who was doubled over at the top of a long incline. Although I had been trailing him for most of the race, he was having his own troubles. It turns out he was not trained for the distance due to injury, and the hills and trail experience and running the other races were just generally wearing him down. (As a side note, his son did quite well in most of the events, I later found out.) We ran together after that, and I have to say just having someone around perked me up a bit. I found I didn't take as many walk breaks, and I definitely picked up my pace a bit. I have said it before and I'll say it again: I am L-A-Z-Y. Left to my own devices, I don't push myself nearly as hard.
Popping out of the trail for the first significant time in nearly three hours was kind of surreal. It was like being lost at sea and suddenly being found (not that I have ever experienced that). Being on a road again was refreshing, and while I would like to say it put some pep in my step, that only lasted for a short stretch because it wasn't long before that road made a significant move up a hill, which had me and my new friend both walking. Towards the top of said hill, though, we finally made it to the final aid station at the side of a golf course. After spending so much time in the woods alone, it was weird to see people actually playing golf - seemed out of place. At the aid station, we realized we only had 5K left and it was almost all downhill. Woohoo! Here we go again - my favorite part.
I had a great time going downhill. My legs were tired, but I still had the energy to jump rocks and dance along the trail. Even my new friend commented on how I still had a lot of hop in my step. I don't know about that, but I knew I was almost done and doing my favorite part of trail running. My hop wasn't quite where it needed to be though, because I did catch my toe a few times. Luckily, however, I didn't fall. With about two miles to go, I think, I found myself running solo again, as the man in orange said he couldn't keep it going and wanted to slow down for the last bit. I continued on, drawn by the fact that I could practically taste the finish line.
Finally, FINISH LINE AHEAD. I came out of the woods to a road, and those were the words chalked on the pavement. This last stretch had us following the road back to the starting area. I told myself not to get too excited. After all, I didn't have a watch, so who knew what "ahead" meant. A half mile? A mile? Two? What I did know was that I was beyond ready to be done. I had had it with this race, with my foot, with my lack of conditioning, with the heat, the bugs, the imaginary wildlife, and even the shadow of that sweeper bike behind me. I wanted to STOP. When I finally came across the volunteer who turned me onto that last stretch of meadow trail (where we had started) and said it was just a short jaunt around the pond, I could have kissed him. Then I started that short jaunt, belatedly figuring out that we apparently had very different definitions of short. I ended up walking several times during my circuit of said pond. My legs were toast and I just didn't care anymore. Finally, though, FINALLY, the finish line. Relief.
I wasn't last. My friend in orange made sure of that, but I was second-to-last, and it took me about 3:40 to finish 15 miles. A new PR (the kind you don't usually aim for). I felt a bit bad coming in ahead of the man in orange given he was ahead of me for most of the race, but oh well. What are you going to do? At the finish, I was greeted by my husband, who had had his own turmoils that day after his two races the day before, and our friends and kids. A quick look around showed that while I had been lucky and not taken a spill on the trails, not everyone had been. There were some significant cuts and bruises going on, but I guess that can happen if you are faster than a walk for the whole race.
We stuck around to wait for the award ceremony to start, missing the runners' buffet breakfast that had been laid out. The husband was hoping he might place somewhere, but although it was a small crowd of participants, there were a lot of competitive folks with some talent. It turned out not to be his lucky day for the RTK, but he enjoyed the experience. For myself, I kind of wish I had run all three races, as I might have had a chance at the SISU award (a Finnish term for "perseverance"). As it was, though, we hung out and soaked up the bonhomie of the race crowd, caught some Solomon and Smartwool swag being tossed out to the crowd and enjoyed the continental-breakfast-to-go our friends were nice enough to carry out to us (after they had already taken our kids in to eat!)
So, if you made it this far in this posting, know that this was an AWESOME event. I may have not had the best day at it, but it was an amazing experience. It's out of the way, and I think that might prevent it from ever becoming huge, but I also think that is part of the appeal. The trails, while hard, were incredible, and the folks running the show just downright friendly and nice.
I so want to do this again.
There are so many other things I could talk about with this race, but I have to end this post somewhere. If anyone has any questions, though, let me know. I would be happy to answer them where I can.
As a final note, sorry about the lack of pictures, but I really didn't feel like carrying a camera this time around. And I am glad I didn't. If I had brought the camera, I probably would have been out there until dark.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Playing Catch Up
It's been a while since I have reported anything new here, and I have to say I don't even feel a smidge guilty about that. I guess as a writer, I go in waves and streaks and when inspiration isn't taking the time to visit my little brain then I don't sweat over it too much.
But, now I am back. I can't promise you any great essays filled with wit and inspiration, but I can catch you up on all the goings on in my little running life. So, here things are in no particular order.
First off, I will start on a positive note. I had the most incredible run yesterday. And, actually, the one the day before was no slouch either. Sunday's run of 10 miles was just a salve to the soul. After running just once in nine days, I wanted to ease back into things and the 10-miler showed me I could. Yesterday's run, though, was just big-picture, running-does-fit-in-with-life-sometimes fun.
So, that's what's happened over the past two days. Over the past couple of weeks, it's been a different story - lots of ups and downs.
I have slowly been working my way out of the post 50K recovery phase. I opted to take the slow road here, so my long runs were all of 4 miles, 8 miles, and 12.5 miles for the first three weeks, respectively. This past weekend, I was supposed to run a 10K race up in Green Bay, but I had to miss it for my grandmother's funeral. Her passing wasn't unexpected. She was, after all, 90 years old and had long dealt with (successfully, I might add) cancer. However, despite that, processing the fact that she is no longer around is taking some time. While we lived in different states, this is a lady who was very much at the center of our family. She is the reason I visited Michigan one or more times a year. Actually, she is the reason for a lot of things. So, the fact that she is no longer there will take some getting used to.
In addition to traveling to the funeral, I seem to have picked up a cold about a week and a half ago while camping in the South Kettle Moraine while Hubby was running his 100K. That put a halt to running as well this past week.
So between the funeral, travel, and cold, all in all in a nine day period I managed to run once. I have some catching up to do. I am not too concerned about catching up, though. I have to say that this article, "Losing Running Fitness," from runnersconnect.net was very timely and put my mind at ease as far as what is manageable and what is not. I really wasn't too worried anyway, but this helped me feel even better.
Adding to my life's changes of course is summer break. My kids are home! Gack! Just kidding. I love the freedom that having my little darlings home grants us, but on the other hand, having LG say already at 2:30 in the afternoon yesterday (with tears in his eyes no less) that he was bored was an eye opener. What are we going to do all summer?
So, that's what's happening here. This next week, I will ease back into some semblance of a rhythm and hopefully get back on track with the blog writing.
Does summer mess with your training at all? Or does it make things easier?
But, now I am back. I can't promise you any great essays filled with wit and inspiration, but I can catch you up on all the goings on in my little running life. So, here things are in no particular order.
First off, I will start on a positive note. I had the most incredible run yesterday. And, actually, the one the day before was no slouch either. Sunday's run of 10 miles was just a salve to the soul. After running just once in nine days, I wanted to ease back into things and the 10-miler showed me I could. Yesterday's run, though, was just big-picture, running-does-fit-in-with-life-sometimes fun.
In my mind, yesterday was supposed to be the start of my children's summer school. I say "in my mind" because as it turned out, we were a day early (although not necessarily a dollar short). So, leaving the quiet building and all dressed up for a run with no free time to do it, I decided to try something new. We got home, got out the kids' bikes and I had them ride along with me while I did my slow recovery jog to the park. That worked out splendidly! LG is just proficient enough now on his two-wheeler that I don't feel I need to hold on to him while he rides. He is still getting the feel for stopping the bike and jumping off, but all wrapped up in knee pads, elbow pads, gloves and a helmet, I didn't worry about him hurting himself too much. At most, the only inconvenience about this plan while he is at this stage of the biking game was that I had to help him get going a couple of times.
Anyway, this was such a fun way to start the day! Biking to the park killed a mile and a half of the three miles I had planned, and while the kids kept telling me how slowly I was going, they made up for it at the park. There, they played on the equipment while I ran around the park to finish the three miles and each time I would circle around close to them I would arrive to cheers of Go, Mama, Go! and You Can Do It! It made me smile to have my own cheering section.
So, that's what's happened over the past two days. Over the past couple of weeks, it's been a different story - lots of ups and downs.
I have slowly been working my way out of the post 50K recovery phase. I opted to take the slow road here, so my long runs were all of 4 miles, 8 miles, and 12.5 miles for the first three weeks, respectively. This past weekend, I was supposed to run a 10K race up in Green Bay, but I had to miss it for my grandmother's funeral. Her passing wasn't unexpected. She was, after all, 90 years old and had long dealt with (successfully, I might add) cancer. However, despite that, processing the fact that she is no longer around is taking some time. While we lived in different states, this is a lady who was very much at the center of our family. She is the reason I visited Michigan one or more times a year. Actually, she is the reason for a lot of things. So, the fact that she is no longer there will take some getting used to.
In addition to traveling to the funeral, I seem to have picked up a cold about a week and a half ago while camping in the South Kettle Moraine while Hubby was running his 100K. That put a halt to running as well this past week.
So between the funeral, travel, and cold, all in all in a nine day period I managed to run once. I have some catching up to do. I am not too concerned about catching up, though. I have to say that this article, "Losing Running Fitness," from runnersconnect.net was very timely and put my mind at ease as far as what is manageable and what is not. I really wasn't too worried anyway, but this helped me feel even better.
Adding to my life's changes of course is summer break. My kids are home! Gack! Just kidding. I love the freedom that having my little darlings home grants us, but on the other hand, having LG say already at 2:30 in the afternoon yesterday (with tears in his eyes no less) that he was bored was an eye opener. What are we going to do all summer?
So, that's what's happening here. This next week, I will ease back into some semblance of a rhythm and hopefully get back on track with the blog writing.
Does summer mess with your training at all? Or does it make things easier?
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
How to Know When Recovery is Done
- My recovery efforts should be at an end now. If I feel the need to do a mini operetta of exercise in three parts, then I should just start my next training plan now.
- While yoga seems like a benign non-exercise on the surface it really is an ass-kicker, and one should take that into consideration when they plan on biking home afterwards. (Did I mention the headwind?)
- Biking in 80-degree weather, sweating out every drop of available liquid in a heated yoga class, and then biking back in hot weather makes for a gross little lack-of-hydration situation.
- Plan snacks. I have never felt so hungry as I did biking home. Even the burgers at the burger joint I passed smelled passingly good, and I am a long-time vegetarian.
I am not a biker by trade, so while this was a fun little adventure for me, I don't know as I'll do it all the time. Although in my little fantasy world where there are no childcare concerns, I see myself doing this once a week or so throughout the summer. We'll see.
I got a lot of looks while biking the streets of town, but I think it had less to do with the idle curiosity of drivers trying not to run me over, and more to do with the fact that I was hauling my yoga mat precariously.
Perhaps they were concerned that it might fly out at any moment, unravel and perfectly cover their windshields. I have to say, though, that baby wasn't going anywhere; it just looked dorky. Somehow I feel if I had a basket on the front and a little dog, that might have completed the picture.
Getting to yoga, I found out I should have renewed my class card two classes ago. So, I guess unless I really want to get the stink eye the next time I go, I had better rectify that situation. Although, they are so nice about everything, it's hard for me to picture them actually kicking anyone out. I guess I would rather not test that, though. Namaste and all that.
So, yoga was good, except for all the dripping and sweating and uncoordinated attempts at the poses. It's been too long since I have gone regularly, and I was never that good to begin with. The only thing I am marginally talented at are the balance poses. For some reason, I feel I could be a tree all day.
So, yoga was good, except for all the dripping and sweating and uncoordinated attempts at the poses. It's been too long since I have gone regularly, and I was never that good to begin with. The only thing I am marginally talented at are the balance poses. For some reason, I feel I could be a tree all day.
One thing I was happy about with yoga was that my arm didn't hurt as much as I thought it might. I have had this handy little reminder popping up for the past few months telling me that my tetanus booster was overdue. I vaguely remember getting one 10 years ago. I was sort of questioning the whole necessity of actually getting this booster when I scratched myself on a piece of rusty metal Sunday. That can happen when you leave the fall cleanup of your garden for the spring time. So I got the vaccine yesterday. My arm is still there this morning, albeit a little sore.
So, tomorrow I attempt the group run again. Yay! Not sure how that will feel after the biking and yoga, but with any luck really, really good. Essentially, though, I am rolling right over into my next training plan - one that I wrote myself. I have a trail marathon the first weekend of September and I am excited to get the ball rolling on training. Because it will be a hard marathon, I actually adapted a 50K training plan for the marathon. More on that later. In the meantime...
Happy Running!
So, tomorrow I attempt the group run again. Yay! Not sure how that will feel after the biking and yoga, but with any luck really, really good. Essentially, though, I am rolling right over into my next training plan - one that I wrote myself. I have a trail marathon the first weekend of September and I am excited to get the ball rolling on training. Because it will be a hard marathon, I actually adapted a 50K training plan for the marathon. More on that later. In the meantime...
Happy Running!
Monday, May 20, 2013
Is Running Ever Enough?
Yesterday was the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon and Half Marathon and, by all accounts, it was a successful and fun event despite the heat. Per usual, I did not run it. Even after living and running in Northeast Wisconsin for ten+ years, I still haven't run this race. Don't ask me why. It's just one of those events that - big here locally as it is - it just never really occurs to me to run. Usually it conflicts with something else I have on the schedule: another race, out of town time with family, or some combination of the two.
This year was no different, except instead of an event or vacation that offered conflict this year the race conflicted with my planned recovery from the Ice Age 50K the week before. Now, I thought this was really clever of me, because after all recovery is important and the 50K was a big goal race for me. However, as it turns out, recovery is apparently a poor excuse to miss a race. You see, out of the four gals I traveled down to the Ice Age with, I am the only one who apparently felt the need to recover from the race. Two of the Peeps ran the full marathon yesterday, and two ran the Half. All finished in their goal times.
While I am extremely happy for them (truly I am, don't get me wrong), I can't help but feel a wee bit inadequate. Could I have run the event if I had set my mind to do it? I don't know. I do know that for the first four days after the Ice Age, I felt tired and sore. I needed that time to recover. Beyond that? Who knows for certain. What I do know is that I had ZERO DESIRE to run an event this weekend. And, that is the part that makes me feel inadequate. Am I not as hardcore as the others? Do I not love running as much as they do? Am I a less confident runner than they are? These are all questions going through my head.
I don't have the answers to those questions. I know I don't have anything to prove to anyone as far as running goes, least of all my friends who - bless their hearts - accept me for who I am. After all, running is a very personal thing - unless you are in the top .00000001 percent that actually wins races - so I am a bit surprised by my reaction to the fact that I didn't run this. Maybe, despite declarations to the contrary, there is a teeny, tiny part of me that is competitive after all. I don't like the feeling of being the one who "sat out." Food for serious thought, because if indeed there is a part of me that is even slightly competitive, if I am not just in it for the fun and the adventure, that could have a major impact on how I go about training for future events. I'll have to mull that over for a while.
In the meantime, while I may not be that attached to the Green Bay races, I am a repeat attender of their expo. I LOVE the Green Bay Marathon expo, and I do try to go to it every year. I mean, what's not to like about it? The expo is set up in the atrium of Lambeau Field. The pasta dinner, if you are willing to shell out $17 for your family to go (runners get entry free) or you happen to get free tickets (ahem), is set up in the concourse of the stadium. If you are a Packer fan, then you would be thrilled to know you can go out into the stands of the stadium to check out hallowed ground. If you are not, then know the food is pretty decent and you can certainly eat your fill.
This year the expo seemed to have even more to do than last year, and strangely, the kids really enjoy attending. Aside from going around collecting all the freebies, they enjoyed making signs and buttons for Hubby and taking a commemorative photo of them "running."
I usually cruise by the product tents, of which there are plenty, and this year I did score one item I was in the market for.
So, how has recovery gone? Pretty well, actually. It took a good four days for my legs to stop barking at me, and now finally I am left with my baseline aches and pains that I always seem to have. I will probably carry those with me until I can really give my body some rest.
I spent last week doing nothing more than my walks, short bike rides, lawn mowing and yard work. And, I am good with that. I have actually had fun. Yesterday, seeing as I didn't run a marathon or half marathon, I decided to continue my now two-year tradition of running the trails of High Cliff State Park on Green Bay Marathon day, and for me it was just what I needed. I took it nice and easy and managed to stop and smell the roses - well, trillium, or something.
Afterwards, the kids and I hung out near the beach so the kids could burn off some energy doing some catch-and-release of lake flies. I don't know why they felt the need to chase after the little buggers like cats on the prowl. I was catching plenty of them just sitting on my butt doing nothing. They're thick right now.
Happy Running!
This year was no different, except instead of an event or vacation that offered conflict this year the race conflicted with my planned recovery from the Ice Age 50K the week before. Now, I thought this was really clever of me, because after all recovery is important and the 50K was a big goal race for me. However, as it turns out, recovery is apparently a poor excuse to miss a race. You see, out of the four gals I traveled down to the Ice Age with, I am the only one who apparently felt the need to recover from the race. Two of the Peeps ran the full marathon yesterday, and two ran the Half. All finished in their goal times.
While I am extremely happy for them (truly I am, don't get me wrong), I can't help but feel a wee bit inadequate. Could I have run the event if I had set my mind to do it? I don't know. I do know that for the first four days after the Ice Age, I felt tired and sore. I needed that time to recover. Beyond that? Who knows for certain. What I do know is that I had ZERO DESIRE to run an event this weekend. And, that is the part that makes me feel inadequate. Am I not as hardcore as the others? Do I not love running as much as they do? Am I a less confident runner than they are? These are all questions going through my head.
I don't have the answers to those questions. I know I don't have anything to prove to anyone as far as running goes, least of all my friends who - bless their hearts - accept me for who I am. After all, running is a very personal thing - unless you are in the top .00000001 percent that actually wins races - so I am a bit surprised by my reaction to the fact that I didn't run this. Maybe, despite declarations to the contrary, there is a teeny, tiny part of me that is competitive after all. I don't like the feeling of being the one who "sat out." Food for serious thought, because if indeed there is a part of me that is even slightly competitive, if I am not just in it for the fun and the adventure, that could have a major impact on how I go about training for future events. I'll have to mull that over for a while.
In the meantime, while I may not be that attached to the Green Bay races, I am a repeat attender of their expo. I LOVE the Green Bay Marathon expo, and I do try to go to it every year. I mean, what's not to like about it? The expo is set up in the atrium of Lambeau Field. The pasta dinner, if you are willing to shell out $17 for your family to go (runners get entry free) or you happen to get free tickets (ahem), is set up in the concourse of the stadium. If you are a Packer fan, then you would be thrilled to know you can go out into the stands of the stadium to check out hallowed ground. If you are not, then know the food is pretty decent and you can certainly eat your fill.
This year the expo seemed to have even more to do than last year, and strangely, the kids really enjoy attending. Aside from going around collecting all the freebies, they enjoyed making signs and buttons for Hubby and taking a commemorative photo of them "running."
I usually cruise by the product tents, of which there are plenty, and this year I did score one item I was in the market for.
 |
| The 50K magnet looks nice next to the 26.2. |
I spent last week doing nothing more than my walks, short bike rides, lawn mowing and yard work. And, I am good with that. I have actually had fun. Yesterday, seeing as I didn't run a marathon or half marathon, I decided to continue my now two-year tradition of running the trails of High Cliff State Park on Green Bay Marathon day, and for me it was just what I needed. I took it nice and easy and managed to stop and smell the roses - well, trillium, or something.
 |
| Before heading out on my first post-50K run, looking at the trail I had to take a picture - and a deep breath. I didn't know what this would feel like. |
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| Luckily, though, the woods were beautiful and peaceful. The soft trail underfoot as good for my soul as my feet. |
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| The flowers were definitely in bloom! |
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| Can't ignore LG's favorite flower - dandelions. Even they were happy on the trail. |
 |
| Enjoyed taking in some of my favorite sights, like this one... |
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| ...and this one. |
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| High Cliff has a nice little burial mound trail that I like to take visitors to. I was surprised to find though that they have some restoration work going on. I almost didn't recognize the trail turn... |
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| ...looks so different without the trees. |
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| All in all, a nice trail run. (Me, digging my new sunglasses - Mother's Day gift from Hubby.) |
Happy Running!
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