My 46 Month Race

What started as abdominal pain during long runs & slowly advanced to passing out at the Boston Marathon, 39 months later, finally has a name.  I underwent two major surgeries, numerous doctor appointments, dietary changes, & experienced a huge decrease in my mileage (to avoid another fainting episode) during those 46 months.  

There were many tears.  A copious amount of frustration. Embarrassment at the “runner” I had become (Who passes out at 7.1 MILES & gets hauled off in an ambulance?!?!?!?!).

Starting line at Boston!

Yet I’m A LOT Type A & wouldn’t accept this new reality. A couple things happened in April & May of this year that led to the big “AHA” moment.  

One of my best friends noticed, while we were enjoying the views on the rooftop of a frat house, with our feet dangling off the side, that my feet were purple. She pointed out that I must be cold & we had to go inside. It was not cold. But down the sketchy ladder we went. (The frat house & sketchy ladder have absolutely nothing to do with my disease, yet I think it ups my cool factor, since I passed out at mile 7 in Boston.  We MAY have been there with our college kids.)

In May, Kiana, who was home from school for a week, noticed my feet were purple while I was standing in the kitchen making dinner.  She mentioned that her feet are purple often due to POTS (postural tachycardia syndrome).  This led to a lot of questions about my symptoms.  And a call to my doctor.

My doctor thought there was a good possibility that I have POTS based on a heart rate & blood pressure test in his office.  He was certain that if I increased my sodium consumption, I would be fine. I watched my daughter first hand struggle with POTS for 3 years, before a diagnosis at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, & knew that although sodium intake is part of the treatment plan, it’s way more complicated than eating potato chips!  

Thankfully I still communicate with her doctor in Rochester, & he recommended one of the few POTS  specialists in country.  4 months later I was seen at Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale & after 4 days of testing, a POTS diagnosis was confirmed.  I also have Mast Cell Activation Disorder, which is common among ⅓ of POTS patients.  This disorder causes stomach inflammation and pain  It’s intriguing because many things that I thought were “normal”, are not normal at all. 

*Heat intolerance. I don't do well when it's hot. Especially while running. Yay for now living in Colorado, except when it's 80 degrees in the afternoon in the middle of November.

*Hives after a day at the beach

*Hives after running in the cold (totally thought EVERYONE, but Steve & Kai, came in from the cold itchy with hives).  

*Near fainting after standing for a few minutes when pregnant. During both pregnancies, I sat down in line at the grocery store, during church, & holding conversations with people standing still.  Multiple times. Thought all pregnant women felt faint.

*While sitting and talking to someone for awhile (teacher’s conferences, interviews, dinner table conversations, ect..), they become blurry and small and I can’t hear them anymore. Guess that’s not normal and it’s because the blood is pooling at my feet. It happened while talking to my Dr and he noticed.

FACEPALM.

Napa Valley Marathon 2013. 1st race with the abdominal pain. Mile 22ish and I'm thinking the pain is making this marathon not so fun.

I’ve had this for a VERY. LONG. TIME. My running has kept the severe symptoms at bay yet it finally caught up with me. Dr said it’s rare for someone my age (I glared at him when he said it) to become symptomatic. He also said, and this is my favorite, that I'm an example of “45 is the new 25”. So there’s that. ;) It's not a well known disorder yet in the last few years researchers have noticed a genetic link.

Gravity is not my friend and when upright, including sitting, blood pools in my feet & stomach. Which is why I have excruciating abdominal pain while running, as blood is not going to my digestive system.  And why I’ve been getting dizzy.

The good news is I now have a confirmed diagnosis and a plan to manage the symptoms. It is not curable but manageable.  I’ll continue to run as exercise is part of  the treatment protocol. I need to consume 10 GRAMS of sodium a day. That 1 is hard as I’m not a fan of salt. Wearing compression on my legs & abdomen will help with blood flow. I also have 2  prescriptions that I now take daily.

I’ve been asked multiple times if I have my sights on racing again. And the answer is honestly, NO! When you’re forced to step away from something, you reevaluate what brings you joy.  I accomplished more than I thought my body was capable of doing. I feel I am in a good place in regards to  life balance.  Running is back to being my stress release & the mountains are my playground.  Not saying I won’t sign up for a race, but the pressure to PR just isn’t my focus anymore. Being an "outsider" of the Goal PR Training Party has also given me a much needed perspective on what is most important to me.

"He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things for which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has." Epictetus

About POTS

http://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/page.php?ID=30

The Bear Chase Trail Race 50K

For someone who is super Type A, I've run 2 major races in the last year without training for them. Ooops. Maybe I'm becoming spontaneous in my old age?

I signed up for the American Discovery Trail Marathon right after moving to Colorado. It was to be held on Labor Day & starts a few miles from my home. It's 26.2 miles point to point on the Santa Fe Trail into Colorado Springs. Due to a bridge wash out and more importantly the current threat condition, the United States Air Force wouldn't allow the marathon to take place on the section of the trail that runs through the USAFA. So they changed it to an out and back starting in Colorado Springs. Yuck. Luckily Makai's coach decided to NOT redshirt him this year so he had his first NCAA Cross Country race in Arizona the weekend of the marathon....and I had a perfect out from running it.

I didn't run anything more than 18 miles when training for ADT, as my longer runs were to occur after I backed out of the race. And once I didn't have the marathon hanging over me, I just ran. Sometimes I would set out and have no plan and end up with 15 miles under me. The next day I would run 10.  As liberating as it was, I felt a bit lost without a race on the schedule.

Steve had signed up for for The Bear Chase Trail Race 100k and I considered running the The Bear Chase Half Marathon, until I found out it was the day after the 100K. My friend Mary had been training hard for the 50K and her excitement was contagious (and inspirational!) so 2 weeks before the race, I decided to go for it.

Steve and I wanted to check out the course but spent 4 out of 5 weekends before the race traveling so it didn't happen.

I love the atmosphere at Ultras. So many reasons. Ultra peeps, the crews, and volunteers are simply awesome. My mom, who was in town for a short 10 days, decided to crew Steve and I the entire (19 hours) day! I'm not sure if she will volunteer to do that again.

Realized shortly after we arrived at the Start/Finish that I had forgotten my heart pill. 3 things get my heart racing when I am running. And by racing, I mean 200 bpm.
1. Tequila (I haven't had any of that since 4th of July after a horrible July 5th run)
2. Hills
3. Heat
We were expecting recored high temps in the upper 80's and clear as day was a mountain right in front of me. I was a little worried but there was nothing I could do about it, so said some extra prayers. That would be embarrassing to have an ambulance come for me during a race.

Trying to keep warm before the race

Steve set out at 6:30am with the 100K & 50 Milers. Mom, Mary, & I tried to stay warm under towels, as the temperature was in the 30's, while we waited for the 50K start. At 7:30 the horn blew and we were off!

Stretching before the start with Mary

My feet were numb. (My Hawaiian feet, who prefer toes in the sand, do not appreciate 30 degree temps. The same thing happened at the Napa Valley Marathon...feet numb for m-i-l-e-s.) It's hard to get in a groove when you can't feel your feet. A little over a mile into the race we crossed a stream. My feet were not super thrilled.  Then we climbed up a couple switchbacks and headed down the mountain on the other side. There were a whole lotta rocks. My uncoordinated self got worried very quickly. Steve told me after the race when he saw all the rocky downhill sections he thought I would be in trouble. But I stayed upright and kept myself at a 9 to 9:15 pace, although I wanted to fly. The plan was to take the first 2 laps slowly and let loose the last 12 miles.

I ran with some guy for the 1st loop and I remember telling him at mile 5, "I can FINALLY feel my feet!" He laughed and said that it was just in time for more stream crossings.

Headed through the Start/Finish at the 10k mark to my mom waving and her video camera rolling. I didn't stop as I had a pack on with a lot of water still left. The next 12 miles felt really good. I took a chomp every 15 minutes and a salt pill every hour, thought I was drinking great, crossed 3 more streams, and filled up my pack with water at mile 15. Blew through the Start/Finish at mile 18+ and asked my mom how Steve was (I thought he was in front of me the entire time). She said he had only come through twice which worried me, but I kept on going. I noticed it was getting hot.

2nd loop. mile late "teens". It was still easy & the kind volunteer was giving me words of encouragement.

Started climbing the mountain for the 3rd time at mile 20ish and realized that I was dizzy. Really dizzy. Drank more water. Ate 2 chomps. Walked. Worried about how my heart was racing. Saw a freaking baby rattle snake in the middle of the trail so stopped. I had zero energy to jump over it. Then I had the thought that it was a baby and if it bit me, wouldn't cause too much harm.  It finally slithered (disgusting!!!) away and I continued climbing. Later I found out that baby rattlers are the worse. YIKES!  Started running when I hit the top and caught up to a guy with muscular legs and American flag shorty shorts. I was old enough to be his mother. Wherever I could find motivation.

I was beat. Caught up to a couple more runners, some caught up to me, and I noticed that we were all walking the uphills. I'm not fond of walking. And I tend to go faster going up than down, so I was irritated with myself that I just couldn't run. I started feeling really nauseas and was certain I was going to throw up.  I drank some coke and ate watermelon at one aid station as the thought of more chomps and water started making my mouth water. During the next three stream crossings, I put water on my head and neck to cool off. I grabbed gatorade at the next aid station as I really wanted to just sit down. I continued the walk/run routine and next thing I knew, I was at mile 28. 3 miles should be so easy. It so wasn't.

1 of 7 stream crossings. I didn't fall. Or swim. 

Crossed the Finish line with my mom and Mary's family cheering me on. I was worried I was going to start crying but held in my tears. My goal of a sub 5 hour didn't happen as I crossed the finish line in 5:01:15.  I had no idea what my place was as I lost a group of 3 girls I had been tailing for the first 5 miles when they took a wrong turn (how they ended up in front of me without passing me, I'm uncertain, but whatever.) Shortly after I finished, I was given a pint glass and told I was 1st in the 40-49 AG and 5th female overall, and the 15 finisher overall. The competitive spirit in me was slightly less wounded coming up short of my goal time, when I found out overall I did ok.

Holding back the tears. So happy to cross the finish line! And my mom was waiting for me! 

Then Mom told me that Steve was having a rough day so I quickly forgot about how I felt and started looking for Mary and Steve. Steve's day is his story. I was thrilled to see Mary finish as I knew it was on her bucket list for 2015! You can read how beautiful the race course is, awesome volunteers, and Mary's journey to a 50K on her blog here.

At the Finish with Mary

So what happened? The race was at over 6000 feet elevation.  You can get dehydrated sitting in the sun at that elevation with the dry heat.  I didn't get enough fluids in me and would have been better off with Tailwind or Nunn along with the water. Remember to take my heart meds. Huge lesson learned. It took another 36 hours after the race before I felt hydrated again.

Next major race is Boston in April and I have All. The. Goals.

Pacing Steve for 15 miles (didn't know that did you Emily, John, Shannon, & Sara?) at Javalina Jundred on Halloween.  After pacing him at HURT in January, I swore I wouldn't do it again. Yet there is something about being a part of your spouse's 100 mile journey that can't be replicated anywhere else. So I'm going back in the desert with jumping cacti (no snakes please). After Boston, I want to conquer more trail races.

And next year, I'd like to get a redo at Bear Chase and hope there are cooler temps. HOLY HOT!

Then There Was One

(Almost) Empty Nest Syndrome Is Real

Definition

I decided to write this, after neglecting the blog for 16 months, while sitting in church with tears streaming down my cheeks. The song we were singing in worship had nothing to do with a child leaving home, but all about God's love and grace. It set me off. And I found out it set Steve off too.  I didn't see his face during church because Kanoa was sitting between us. Yet I did observe both of us rubbing the Little's neck, back, and legs most of the sermon.  Kanoa tolerated it but am sure is over Mom and Dad clinging to his every word and has told me often this week that I ask too many questions. 

The house is quiet for 10.5 hours Monday through Friday. I leave at 6:55am to take Kanoa to school, well after Steve has left for the office. It's football season and practice ends at 5pm, but by the time Kanoa changes out of his gear and grabs his backpack out of the locker room, we get home at 5:30. Evenings are reminiscent of the last 21 years filled with homework, dinner, and preparing for the following day, except a lot quieter (Makai loves to chat and I sure miss hearing about what they discovered in Human Pys that day or how many cars tried to run him off the road while he was doing a workout on Kainalu or through Lanikai (Kailua drivers!!!).

Not only are my Big and Middle away at school, but my Little is in middle school which means athletics at the school, so Mompool is no longer needed.  That's actually a huge huge huge positive for Kanoa, but this new independence takes adjusting to. 

Football gear still needs to be cleaned daily

When Kiana left for school, we lived in a small 3 bedroom home and the boys shared a room. The boys loved having their own rooms and we went from the chaos of three different schools, to two and both close to the the house.  I was working full time and although I missed her terribly, the boys and work kept me busy enough that the distance didn't seem that great.  At least that's what I remember.  Having your first child leave for college may be like childbirth and you forget the painful parts.  Of course I counted the days until she came home for Christmas and was stunned at how much she had changed (that's for a different blog), but don't remember looking at her things and crying.

Before Kiana went to college collection

College influence collection

I'm not working full time, we're in a new hometown, and this past week has been rough.  I know you cannot truly miss someone in a week's span, but the knowledge of how our life has changed has caused many tears to flow.  A flood of memories have crept up on me and it seems the last 18 years zoomed by.  Preschool drop offs were a nightmare because Makai would cling to me and cry, yet as soon as I made it out of his sight he was fine. The 1st day of Kindergarten I was worried because he was so little (I don't even think he was on the charts at that time) and was seated next to the biggest kid in the class...they ended up being best friends until we moved away in 4th grade.  The milestones, challenges, and being his biggest cheerleader all happened way to fast. 

Enter running and we spent more time together than probably most Moms are able to spend with their teenage boys. At first we used to run together...can you believe he couldn't keep up with me just 3.5 years ago!!!???....and when he got faster and was bored of training on his own, I would bike beside him.  And we would talk. And talk. And talk. 

For the last 3 years, our weekends were filled with Kanoa's football games and Makai's races.  How did it go by in the blink of an eye?

Running kept him busy in High School. State Medals above.

Thankfully we leave Friday for Flagstaff to watch Makai's collegiate running career debut. Just as we were there on Bid Day for Kiana. The following weekend we are headed to Stillwater for our first Parent's Day for our Big. (More importantly it's Dad's Day for Tri Delta!) There will be another visit to Flag in October for their Parent's Day and I'm going to try and swing Homecoming at OSU later that month. 

If I can just get through the 10.5 hours of too much silence during the week.  Yes I run. And go to the gym.  Today I didn't get home until 11am after working out and grocery shopping and then had to walk the dog! "PHEW"! I check Snapchat and Twitter way too much to see if my Big and Middle have posted anything. Will probably work a few hours a week to get out of the house, but don't need or want full time as I have traveling to do. And a football player to take care of. 

Thankfully Makai has found his tribe. He has an outstanding coach and teammates to push him and encourage him. Something that was lacking during his high school experience. Between school and running, he's not going to miss us nearly as much as we miss him. There is joy in his voice when he calls me. That brings huge comfort knowing he is exactly where he is suppose to be.

$300+ worth of Go Fasters that Mom & Dad no longer have to pay for (& more to come!) :)

The dishwasher has been used twice in 9 days and I've never had so much food in the house for so long! Apparently Makai ate a lot and used a ton of dishes while making his food! He also did most of the grocery shopping and cooking. We used to grocery shop together or I'd send him with a list as he cooked every single night. Now I have to do one of my most hated chores: The Grocery Store! 

I am already saving for therapy in 6 years when my Little goes away. And planning a l-o-n-g running vacation for Steve and I.

Boston Marathon Recap

I've had a few days to reflect and feel the emotions of Boston. First off, it was a fun trip to the East Coast where we got to spend time with Steve's family as well as meet some Instagram friends that we've been following for awhile. The whole "IG" friendship is a little crazy, but some of my strongest supporters are through social media. Meeting a few of them, and getting to run, was one of the highlights of the entire trip. They were EXACTLY what I expected (actually, BETTER!)and you can never have too many "real live people" in your life who don't think your running habit is excessive/dangerous/crazy/whatever.

#F3 Meet Up

In preparation for the race, I carb loaded on Saturday, and ate easily digested food on Sunday. The morning of the race was a cup of coffee and half a banana. My stomach issues have jacked up my digestive tract so really didn't want any solid food in me that morning, but due to a 10:25 start, knew I would have no energy if I walked out the door with just coffee. I drank minimal water as well that morning in the hopes that I would remain pain free.

The race itself was like nothing I have EVER experienced. You are never alone or in a spot where it is easy to maneuver around people. For 26.2 miles you're dodging runners. Except for a short stint by a lake, the course was filled with people cheering...there were a MILLION spectators!!! People are handing out water, beer, Nunn, otter pops, and the signs were both encouraging and hilarious. I thought the Blackhawk helicopters, police and National Guard's very obvious presence would take away from the crowds, but they didn't. At All. Actually seeing a Blackhawk over head may have had me chanting "'Merica".

We started the race running 7:15's-7:25's which felt SUPER EASY yet after a few miles I consciously slowed it down so I wouldn't bonk. We stayed at a 7:30-7:45 pace and I was really having the. best. time. ever.

Around mile 10 I could feel twinges in my upper abdomen. The pain is similar to a side stitch yet it radiates throughout my entire upper abdomen and I cannot take a deep breath. I slowed it down a little, said a very unladylike word to myself, and kept moving forward. Reached the halfway point in 1:42 which is a decent half marathon, and still had hope of keeping the sub 3:30 marathon tradition going. Then it got bad. Childbirth pain didn't compare to what I was feeling. I was also dizzy, which I'm sure was a combination of not being able to take deep breaths nor process any fluid or chomps. I started a walking/running combo with Steve right beside me.

Steve encouraging me to use "Lamaze" style breathing during the excruciating pain.

The second half took me 2:10. That's how much walking I did. The crowds never stopped cheering for me, even when I was hunched over. I actually laughed at the sorority girls and their "KISS ME" signs, and I was in heaps of pain passing them. The buildings were beautiful, the crowds a few people deep, and I even asked a cop if I could get a piggyback to the finish line. I don't "see" those things during a pain free race as I'm focused on the finish line.

Cruising along.

I heard angels singing at the CITGO sign knowing I only had a mile left. The crowds going to the finish were thanking us runners for being there. This is when I got very emotional. They were the ones who should be thanked for showing up at the same finish line and cheering us on. I also couldn't believe that I had finished. There was a medical tent at every mile after some point and when I passed a couple, I seriously considered paying them a visit. But I didn't want to quit. And knew I had all day to get to the finish. I wanted to cross that finish line.

Crossing that finish line with Steve felt better than the first time I BQ'd. Having gone through so much physical pain and finishing felt better than finishing after a great race. I lasted about 5 minutes before my stomach muscles loosened up and up went all the water I tried to drink as well as chomps. Lovely.

I wasn't able to eat for a few hours due to pain and all I could think of was how happy I was that surgery was scheduled for May 6th. My time didn't matter. My husband staying step by step beside me mattered.

I won't lie. Today my time is important and there is disappointment and anger that the pain got a hold of me. All I can do is know that on Monday, I left everything I could on the course and pray that surgery brings relief so I can finally run again pain free.

I'm looking forward to going back to Boston one day, and actually racing. I know I have it in my legs...and my heart.

1 Word Sums Up The Road To Boston: DETOURS!

2012 remains my strongest year in running. Except for a bout with the flu, I remained injury free, got faster, and qualified for Boston at Honolulu by 19 minutes and 33 seconds (yes it DOES matter).


2012 bled into January 2013 with the Napa Valley Marathon on the horizon for March. Ran into some abdominal issues, spent months at doctors having tests done to be told they have no idea what is wrong it is some type of fibromyalgia.


Also dealt with Peroneal tendonitis, yet had logged tons of miles, so wasn't surprised and took a couple weeks off.


PR'd a half marathon with abdominal issues and was training hard for my 1st Ultra, a 50K. My coach had set up my training plan to not only get long runs in but also speed work as I wanted to break 3:20 at Honolulu in December. Dreams don't die for this girl!


My clumsiness, and apparently very high arches, left me not running for 2 l-o-n-g months after rolling my ankle at Peacock while on a 20 mile training run. Missed my Ultra and Honolulu, yet was looking at "The Big Picture" (previous post) and running strong at Boston was my ultimate goal. Spent weeks in the torture chamber physical therapy and left with some arch supports.


Started out slowly (literally) in December and by January felt comfortable adding longer runs with some speed. Other than feeling like a turtle and the occasional sharp pain in my foot and tummy, I had time on my side and was confident I could make a full recovery. Enter Stage Right: Abdominal pain coupled with back pain.

11 miles of hills!


WTH?!?!


Had some bouts with abdominal twinges again but nothing to make me stop running. Yet while pacing my dear friend at her ultra in January, I started having severe pain, which I attributed to eating too much of her mom's most amazing garbanzo bean salad. After 3 weeks of ignoring it...because that is the way it will go away....as well as taking a WHOLE 4 DAYS OFF from running, I saw my doctor after work earlier this week.

Getting all the food before the last 20!


Bottom line: Need surgery to feel better. The kind where they open you up and cannot run in foreeeeeeeever. After visiting radiology my diagnosis is my organs are stuck together...the ones you don't need when you're 29+++, so can be taken out. I'm certain that's not the medical term. Add a tumor (benign) and no wonder my tummy is unhappy.


Thankfully I have an understanding doctor who runs and "gets Boston". It's my choice to have surgery now, or wait until after the marathon. I've decided to wait. My pain being more intense when I sit, verses running, contributed to my decision. I have dreamed, sweated, and had too-many-to-count 4am wake ups to get to Boston.

Early Morning Miles!


Yet, I may suck. I don't know if I'll be able to do the workouts my coach has given me to hit my sub 3:20 goal. But I'm going to try my best. That's all I can do. My best.


It may not be the race I dreamed of. But it's Boston. And I got there!

"The Big Picture"

Months of early morning training runs and a full day on the weekend were spent in preparation for my first ultra and a PR at Honolulu.

Early morning runs were not the hop-out-of-bed and go through the motions to get in 8-12 miles before work.  I did track workouts, tempos, hills, and the long run.  At times painful training.  Anxiety the night before in anticipation of the splits I needed to hit.  Yet after the workout was over, the confidence in my ability to complete Peacock and break the dreaded 3:20 barrier at Honolulu seemed possible.

Hibiscus Half. 

My coach told me to BELIEVE.  I still have the sticky note on my computer monitor as my daily reminder to BELIEVE my body is capable.  I wrote BELIEVE with a sharpie next to my Garmin when I ran my last half as I wanted to hit 1:31.  I nailed my splits and won overall female that day.  Ok, the fast girls must have slept in, but I still believed.

My life for months, actually since January of 2012, consisted of work. The kids.  And training.  Life was pretty much perfect.

Perfect Life.

Until Sunday, September 22nd, 11 miles into a 20 mile trail training run at Peacock.  I'm a road runner. Have blogged about it.  Not super comfortable where there are roots and rocks.  Steve was encouraging  me on the trails so I wasn't such a wuss.  During that run, he told me I was doing great, going faster downhill where there were rocks (SCARY!), and I was feeling more confident that I would leave the 50k in my own car, verses an ambulance.  That's a little dramatic, I wasn't worried about an ambulance.  Yet I was worried I was going to suck.  I'm too competitive to suck.

The ankle rolled.  It hurt but not bad enough to take the short cut back to the car, as I wanted to get the mileage in. A couple miles later, it really hurt.  The entire way down Long Road I was miserable.  If someone had offered to pack me on a bike, I would have gladly accepted a ride.  I'm not really into quitting before set mileage is done.  I wanted to quit.

Yet I was sure after a few days of rest, I would be ready to hit the road again.  Boot for a week. Ice. Motrin. Clear xray. No running. Aqua jogging started at week 4 of being down as I needed an outlet and felt my muscles turning to mush.  Still pain.  MRI at 6 weeks down.  Bursitis in my foot.  More Motrin and Icing with instructions to call the doctor a week later.  7 weeks down and no improvement so doc wants me to see an orthopedic surgeon to see why I'm not getting better.

On Saturday I decided that I had missed my ultra so I wouldn't set myself back.  Had not run for 7 weeks.  And Aqua Jogging doesn't give me the endorphins I'm used to.  So I hiked Tantalus with Steve and it was exhilarating to get dirty.  See amazing views and snag a 2lb avocado.  I wanted more so ran yesterday and today.  Today my foot hurts more than it has the last few weeks.  Oopsie.

Yet during today's run, I realized just how brave I want to be, but how deeply I'm hurting inside.

I have tried to be brave.  I showed up at the starting line at the Peacock 50k and 100k.  I helped check people in and my heart ached as I wanted to be in race mode.  I questioned if I really would set myself back, and should have just ran the race.  All the while smiling and encouraging my husband to race smart so he would finish his first 100k.

Before the start of Peacock. 

Instead of going home and crawling in bed and bawling that I was injured, I helped set up the aid station at Long Road.  Brought my cow bell and cheered for the racers coming through. Supportive Malia.  If you can't race, than support those that can.

That day ended.  Steve did amazing.  I am still so proud of how he listened to his body during the race and finished strong.  Yet deep down, I wondered how I would have done.  Would I have listened to my body?  Would I have sucked?

There are races leading up to Honolulu.  Steve and I cheered for those racing the 30k.  The half this coming Sunday was on my race schedule.  I noticed today it's still on my Training Plan.  Obviously, I'm not doing it.

I didn't have any idea the impact of becoming injured and my running coming to a halt would have on me.  My work.  My dreams.  Gone.  Yes, I'm trying to look at the big picture.  At least that's what I tell myself.  Focus on Boston.  You'll be better by then and can PR there.  "In the big picture of life, these are only a few months!".  My son told me today that "Honolulu is there every year".  He's right.  It is there every year.  But I didn't get up at o-dark thirty for months on end to race it next year.

I'm sad.  And I'll continue to nod my head up and down when people tell me to look at the big picture.  Yet I wonder, have their dreams been shattered by a training injury?  Because if not, they shouldn't say thing.  Just give me a beer.

Dirt Vs Concrete

I must confess that I consider myself a road runner first and foremost.  I love the trails. They make me happy.  After observing the difference between those that run and race on the road, and those that conquer trails, I hate to admit it.  We are different.

Not the elitist jogger vs runner argument.  Or technical trail vs jeep road vs gravel pathway argument. 

I'm taking about attitude. 

I live by my training schedule.  I know on Sunday what my week looks like and do not deviate by it at all.  Races are scattered throughout the year to track my progress. It's like dessert, after eating all the vegetables. For 12 months I had 1 goal that I set my eyes on: to qualify for Boston.   After qualifying in December, 19 minutes and 35 seconds faster than needed (but who's counting?), I aimed to go faster. Training to PR at Honolulu in December with anything under a 3:19:59!   So I hit the pavement 6 days a week, in which 3 of them are hard work days.  I have learned that Tuesdays and Thursday are" bring it" days and Saturdays are long, but not as painful as Tuesdays.  (Thank you coach for being consistent on "sufferfest" days.)

Graphs from my hills- with -tempo run this morning

In the meantime, while Steve was training for the Pike's Peak Marathon last year, I fell in love with running trails.  Steve and I have taken 3 vacations in the past 12 months and the highlight of each is to find trails.  I have no desire to run on the road while on vacation.  Maybe I look at trails as vacation?!?! 

After watching and crewing for 2 ultras,  the seed was planted and I wondered if I could ever complete an ultra on the trails.  The seed festered for a bit, I ran more trails, and on October 19th, I'm tackling my first Ultra.  I have no expectations.  Well, I don't want to suck. 


So once a week, I take one of those weekly training runs to the trails.  And guess what.  The Garmin SUCKS at calculating mileage/time when you are running switchbacks and climbing mountains.And guess what else? The "Trail Runners" don't care?!?!  Like honestly, they don't wear Garmins. Have no idea...well maybe a little...how far we went.  Or how long we were there.  It's super amazing.  And impossible to get out of them exactly how far we went.

I usually run trails with Steve and Makai.  I will label them as "Road Runners' as well. We calculate how far we went, elevation, and pace.  We still enjoy the trails and drink up the beauty around us.  But, we're tracking every step.  Twice I've run trails with the super fabulous HURT crew.  And completed one race.  Volunteered at two races that Steve and Makai raced. I love them.  Nicest people ever.  Fun to be around.  But that's another post.

Do you know what these super nice fun people do at their races?  1. They don't have a large clock at the finish line! 2. If you are in the lead, they make you run more of the course than those not in the lead. 3. One race had a staggered start.  Times are not adjusted so even if your time is faster, you may not "win". 

I noticed no one even cares about their time.  And for the most part, what "place" they got.  Can you even imagine a bunch of road racers being told to run an extra mile just because they were fast?  And then being compared to runners that didn't run the extra mile?  Riots would start I tell you!  

Looking back, my one solo trail race that I did...didn't care what my "official" race time was. And there was a clock at the finish.  I was just so happy I navigated the rocks and jumped up after my fall and was able to complete the race.  And I actually don't think they have an "official" finishing time.  On the road, you have to wait to see what is official. :) 

Early Saturday morning a group of us Kailua girls, headed to Peacock Flats to meet the HURT crew for a training run.  Peacock is the home of my first Ultra.  In this group are some amazing athletes.  50 milers, 100 milers, yeah, they do them.  All the time.  I felt super insignificant saying I was training for the 50k.  Guess what, not one of them scoffed at me.  Or bragged that they were running ANOTHER 100 miler in 2 weeks.  They were excited for me.  And although I don't have an Ultra race resume, up the mountain we went, like I was one of their own.  

I ended up running, and I use the word loosely, because it was a mud fest, with some of the lead runners.  We skied down mud laden trails in our trail shoes. Apparently one dude had hiking sticks but I heard they don't work well as ski poles.  One of the girls knocks out 50 and 100 milers like I do half marathons.  We chatted because it's easier to chat skiing down a hill than running sub 7's on the road.  

Just hanging in the clouds.  Garmin stopped, of course.

Cannot find this on the road. 

Every so often, we stopped, and waited for the entire group to get together so no one would get lost.  Of course, I stopped my Garmin.  I believe I was the only one wearing a Garmin.  Can you imagine running on the road and just waiting for the others to catch up?  Uh no.  Get home, shower, stretch, and brew some coffee.  

As we were heading down the last couple miles of switchbacks, I asked one of the guys how far we'd gone?  This was after he helped "train" me on how to run downhill on wet slick trail without falling on my ass.  He said around 15 miles.  Looked at my Garmin and it was CLEARLY more than 15 miles, and adding switchbacks, I'm thinking this is more like 16 miles.  He honestly couldn't answer my question and didn't care what the mileage was.   What nice little number am I supposed to put on my training plan?

Data from the trail.  It didn't capture the fun though!

Off the trail we ran to the car.  Beer bottles were opened and fruit and snacks made their way to the tailgate of the truck.  No one talked about splits, mileage, or even how long we were out there.  Talk was of the next races, group runs, and food recipes.
It was so refreshing.  In the back of my head, I still wondered how far I'd run.  And knew it didn't matter.  I ran about half of the course I am tackling in October and gained more confidence in my ability to complete the race.  Every time I go up there, I feel stronger.


I wish I could turn off my road runner mind when I'm on the trails.  When I'm on the road, I'm focusing on miles under my legs and splits to hit that marathon time.  I need both "attitudes" to conquer my 2013 goals.  

Split personality would be handy about now.