Recovery and Renewal

A lot things have been going on the past few weeks and days. Later today (though I had hoped this morning) I'll be picking up my keys to my new place in Chapel Hill. I'll move carloads day by day, and then this weekend, with the help of my brother, do some of the heavy loading.

Logistically, I extremely loathe moving. I think the two ways I've done it have different pros and cons: 1) When I moved to Baltimore in a large box truck I had to take everything at once. This meant making sure I TOOK everything and had SPACE for everything. 2) Most of my college moves were done with a minivan in multiple trips. The travel distance is closer, so you have to get everything in one shot. The downside is that it takes several trips, and you still leave wondering if you've gotten everything.

My recovery is still progressing. It's slower than I had hoped, but I'm not stressing. I've gotten used to taking prolonged breaks during the summer. In the past it was for injury, so now I can do it on my own terms. I've kept up my aerobic fitness with swimming. This week, the Cary Y closed down the bubble to transition to an outdoor pool, so we're swimming in the unheated "Oasis pool." This is a brisk SIXTY-SIX DEGREES. I felt ballsy and swam without a wetsuit. Two years ago it would've been torture at 74. But either I'm not as lean, or I've gotten used to colder temperatures; either way I didn't think it was so bad. I may even consider going again on Friday.

After Umstead, I'm making a lot of other changes. I had been planning to revamp my diet. After some years of being WAY to restrictive, I purposefully tried to be looser. I think it helped me reach my calorie requirements, but the nutritional value curtailed. I didn't really have a plan on how to restructure it all, but I've gotten some positive encouragement and ideas from an amazing individual. It will primarily involve getting rid of a lot of the processed foods. And right now it's heading towards vegetarianism, but I'm not ruling out veganism. That will be hard; I use milk and cottage cheese almost everyday. And also, I'm trying to be practical in my elimination: I'm not throwing out everything, just once it's gone, it's gone. I don't know; this is heading into new territory. But I think of it as a challenge, which makes it exciting.

I talked about inspiration last time, so I want to leave off with some songs/quotes that I feel have embodied my mindset:

"Love Hate" by Disciple
"Mother Father" by Dave Matthews Band
"Take Me Away" by Lifehouse

"Be not simply good; be good for something"
"God himself culminates in the present moment and will never be more divine in the lapse of the
ages." - Both by Henry David Thoreau

Inspiration

I'm not a very creative person. Originality is not my thing. So a lot of times I look for inspiration in others; ways to express myself using someone else's words, lyrics, poetry, whatever. While I am no longer a very religious person, there's a lot get from the Bible.

In the wake of the Boston marathon bombings, I can't quite sort through all the emotions. Anger, sadness, pride, fear, disgust, resolution, anxiety, entrapment. After running Umstead, how do I feel about what I've done? And where do I go next?

Anger over Boston - "Game On" by Disciple

Resolve -

"I will not Bow" by Breaking Benjamin

"Isaiah 43" unknown

After Umstead:

"Worth it All" by Disciple

"Frontline" by Pillar

"Dive" by Disciple

Ecclesiastes 3 Incredible number of verses about what all our toils mean/don't mean, and the purpose of it all. Emphasis added

Lessons/notes/tips for my own future reference:

4/13/12

1. Lucky to be on a home course, with recurring aid stations and crew. Should carry more on more isolated courses.
2. Reasons why solid food stopped working: May be inevitable. May be gorged/guzzled at aid stations without a steady intake in between. Should temper.
3. Used Gatorade for calories after solid stopped working. Should investigate optimal product.
4. Need a variety of flavors, even if some you don't like during training. Also variety of phases of matter (gel/liquid, blocks/solid), because candy consistency worked.
5. Gatorade again: Determine under what condition you will switch to gatorade (i.e. state of mind, mileage, time, etc.)
6. Keep a better stock of salt tabs/S-caps.
7. Correction: solid food, real food. The blocks did work; soup did not sound appeasing. Partially because it was warm, and I wasn't feel cold, but I think it was just savory, and dessert (chocolate) flavors did not sound good.
8. I had a cup (drank between 4 and 8 oz?) of ginger ale. May be that settled my stomach later?

The Umstead 100 Mile Endurance Run

This weekend I completed my first 100 mile run. The Umstead 100M starts and finishes at Camp Lapihio with 8 12.5 mile loops. The day was incredible. I exceeded my expectations by finishing in 17:28:02; half an hour faster than the fast end of my prediction. The day was not without unforeseeable challenges, nor was it without pleasant surprises.

I arrived Friday afternoon, picked up my packet, and found my cabin for the night. My assigned parking was much farther than I expected or wanted, but having reserved a spot in a cabin, THAT spot was dead-on the course and couldn't have been more perfect. The evening consisted of a pre race briefing and dinner, and then Greg (my crew) and I briefly went through my gear so he'd know where everything was. I'm slightly ashamed to admit, that I got a little worried about Greg. Not that he was ill-prepared, but that we hadn't discussed or settled on all our plans.

The night was a little fitful. Nothing unnerving, but business-as-usual sleeping in a rustic cabin.

Lap 1
Most ultras start dead-on time, and this was no different, leaving headquarters (HQ) at 6:00am. This first lap, the first several miles wer herd-thinning. Most of this section can be run, so I did. When I got to the Reedy Creek/Reed Creek Lake junction, I ended up running it. I've always run it in training and tell myself I'll walk it in the race, but I could do it without any major heart rate spikes, so I was OK at this point. Going through Aid Station #2 (AS2). I grab some usual snacks and keep on going. The second section is where the hills are, so I'm definitely walking some right away.

Lap 2
Back at HQ, I completely change my top as it has warmed up. Great transition. I grabbed more snacks and guzzled some more water/Gatorade. I'm in at 1:56. I shouldn't be going faster than 2:00. Oops, I'll try and slow down. As I head out of what's called mid-gate (Old Reedy Creek Road (ORCR) and Group Rd junction), a girl ahead of me heads the wrong way. I call out and keep going. She's come about and now we're running side-by-side. But of course not running together, she has some good speed, it's quiet, and I'm not a social runner. Nonetheless our strides match up, so I figure I'll chitchat a little until either one of us breaks off. There were plenty of opportunities for either to breakaway, but over the next lap and half, we generally stuck together and maintained a positive rhythm. Leigh Anne (I got her name later) was running the 50-mile option as her first ultra. She's damn fast for her first ultra!

Lap 3 & 4
I ditched my gloves. I was drinking a lot at the aid stations and water stops, but not a lot in between. Solid food wasn't tasting all that great, but I started eating some salted potatoes in keep up my salt intake. Leigh Anne and I started walking one of the smaller hills along ORCR, and the fatigue was getting to us. The unmanned water stop was out of Gu and cookies, but luckily we passed Blake and Rhonda heading down to the creek. Never hurts to tell the race directors. When we headed uphill past the ORCR/Reedy Creek Lake, Leigh Anne urged me to go on. Regretfully we parted. I was still running well, but solid foods weren't that great. At AS2 I took in some more potatoes, maybe some other snacks, but the eating was becoming an issue. Lap 4 was uneventful; I warn Greg this is only the second time I've gone past approx. 35 miles. When I passed Leigh Anne in and out of HQ, it was all smiles.

Lap 5
I sick of solid foods, and of chocolate-y tastes. The HQ volunteers were telling me to get salt, but even lukewarm potatoes sounded gross, they "offered" plain salt; no way. I took a salted potato half-heartedly, but only ate about half. They put me together a bag of fruit, which taste-wise was tolerable at best. Now I was able to pick up Andy my first pacer, I took a salt tab from Greg before heading out, fruit bag in hand, munching poorly. I was still running a good portion of the first section, though past the Lake, it was all walking. I grabbed some more fruit and a salt tab at AS2. I was drinking more Gatorade, but everything made my mouth feel like cotton and my stomach huge. I talked, but quietly. I can't believe I've gone farther than ever before (62.5 miles), but still have 37.5 to go.

Lap 6
Picked up another bag of fruit from HQ and a some hard candies; kinda solid, but high in sugar and the taste went OK. Traded Andy for David O. I knew I was done with solid food. When we got to the unmanned aid station, we decided to start putting Gatorade in my bladder to get a steady intake of water and hydration. Apparently Greg forbade me from eating the "simple sugar" candy. After some angry words, I choked down a Gu and some water. Whenever David encouraged me to take water from the water stops and I would just shove my bladder tube back in my mouth. They say you know you'll finish when you get to mile 75 (ending lap 6). My good point was a few miles before, but tempered when I knew I still had 25 to go. My taste buds and palette are settling, but I can't remember if I drank a half cup of ginger ale and if that helped.

Lap 7
Todd comes in. Greg knows I've switched to the Gatorade and has a bladder full of it. It's heavy on my shoulders. I grabbed a slushie at HQ. I'm well into that exercise-induced "drunk" stage (which for me means just talking uninhibitedly), though I feel like the walking dead. Greg has Todd put me on a 30 min salt tab regiment. I just stick out my hand, hand to mouth, Gatorade to mouth, swallow. I still don't want any chocolate-y flavors, but that's all that the aid stations have. Todd has some black cherry ClifShots. I've heard Mt. Dew called unicorn tears. Those ClifShots were their tears of joy. I still kept sipping Gatorade every time we saw/mentioned water. My pace had naturally slowed, and I was on about 2:30 pace. If I could manage that, I'd have an easy 3 window to still make an 18:00 finish.

Lap 8
The victory lap. David, my brother is now my pacer, and my parents are at the switch. Greg puts in a fresh bladder and I feel like Atlas carrying the world it's so heavy. I'm finishing slushie #2 (which took forever to make). I've got 3 hours to kill, so I walk a bit after the Airport Spur; oddly, I don't think my split changes that much. We're running low on salt tabs, but I'm still taking them in, and shoving the bladder tube in my mouth. It's become a very comforting routine. David and I talk about a lot of things. I just can't wait to be off this course. I'm getting excited (as much as one can after 90+ miles). Even though there's only ~2 miles to go, I actually take down a PB Gu after leaving Gralyn. Once we crest Cemetery Hill, it's all running. I tell David there won't be any kick and there isn't. I want him to run in with me, but then I get scared and send him ahead to let them know I'm coming. I cross the finish line with such incredible relief.

I know I'm giving lots of hugs and handshakes. I'm definitely out of it now. I just kind of let everyone muster me about.

Starting the fourth day since finishing, it's still amazing and surreal that it happened. For a day, I could barely stand. Now I can finally walk down steps without bracing myself. I think about how I ran the race, and how I dealt with the unexpected. I was lucky to have such phenomenal weather, a home-course advantage, and an competent support team. I didn't plan on another in the very near future, and I don't expect them all to go as smoothly. But I'm excited to see what more I can do, I am already forgetting the pain.

Holy crap

The moment has passed. But I'm sure everyone gets it...

This weekend I met with Greg, who will be crewing for me at the Umstead 100. It was good work session to let him know about my tendency and what he could expect to have to do. Everything was OK. My run that morning wasn't too bad. I stayed out of Umstead and drove up to the Mountain-to-Sea Trail along Falls Lake after taking my parents to the airport. I was planning on 40 miles; my longest training run to date (excluding actual races). Due to being unfamiliar with the course, it was just 35. The course was serene, but I wouldn't say scenic or beautiful. After about 5 miles it all seems the same.

Any hoot, it wasn't until Sunday while at work. I just suddenly thought and realized "Oh, sh*t. I'm running A HUNDRED MILES IN 33 DAYS."

I don't freak out. But I was probably a fidgety for a while.

5 weeks to go. One week of solid training and then I start tapering.

My run this morning: 35-39 F the whole time. Raining the WHOLE TIME. Trail shoes have lost most traction. Hands were numb. 3 stream crossings at calf level or higher. I had a hard time opening cereal bags (I like real food late in my runs, so I carry the bags from those single-serving cereal boxes.). Just wet wet wet wet. Probably ran more than I should have. Next week I'm trying out the Mountain-to-Sea Trail at Falls Lake.

Holiday Lake 50K Race Report

SIDEBAR: Apparently I just won't let this blog die. This weekend I ran the Holiday Lake 50K++ (HL50K) which consisted of roughly 32-33 miles of trails in Virginia near the Lynchburg area. This wasn’t my first ultra marathon, having run the Terrapin Mountain 50K, Promise Land 50K, and Mountain Masochist 50M in 2012. All of these races make up the Lynchburg Ultra Series. And they are within the much larger Beast Series that tacks on the Grindstone 100M and Hellgate 100K. Last year I missed out on Holiday Lake because I ran the Black Mountain Marathon and did not complete the series. It looks like I’ll fall short again this year, since I’m running my first 100M at the Umstead Endurance Run at the beginning of April (two weeks after Terrapin, three before PL). There was a group of us from the Raleigh-Durham area that was running this race; Daren, Elaine, and Todd were experience with ultra marathons, while Michelle, Maria, and Mitzi were running their firsts. Todd and I had carpooled up Friday afternoon, arriving just before the pre-race dinner. Michelle and Maria got there earlier and saved us spots in a lodge, luckily with heat. We picked up our packets, dropped off our luggage, and returned to the dining hall to eat. It was a simple array of salad and pasta, my choice being the lasagna. I caught up with the rest of the gang. The girls were a little nervous, but excited. After a while, Dr. Horton gave a comprehensive pre-race briefing. Dr. Horton is great to listen to and has his own quirky motivation. He tells you the race is tough, that you’re gonna suffer; you’ll want to give up, “But don’t! Finish!” We’re all there together, sharing in the experience. You can tell from the audience that there is tremendous camaraderie and community. Trail races in general have an amazing advantage over road races in that they are a group effort, and Dr. Horton always brings out the best in the runners (and the volunteers!). After some giveaways and promotions (of some interesting-sounding books), we break for the night. Dr. Horton met with the first-timers to provide some how-tos. I listened briefly, but eventually turned in for the night. SIDEBAR: There’s always the pre-race race plan, and then the actual race plan. This race was suppose to just be a nice change from the local trails but to avoid racing too hard so that I would get back to training for Umstead in two months. I didn’t think I would take longer that 5:30, but I didn’t want to finish faster than 5:00. I got up sometime between 5:00 and 5:30 after a fitful night sleep. For some this predicts doom, but I shrugged it off, got dressed, and headed to the dining hall to check in. The girls were up, and I joined them to eat and chitchat before running. I had about a cup and a half of coffee; I’m not ritualistic about drinking coffee, but I enjoyed it for its warming feeling. We started promptly a 6:30am, predawn, so it was dark and I was wearing my headlamp. This first spat was on the pavement heading out of the camp. The field was crowded, but not mob-ish like a lot of big road races. There was a bottleneck heading off road. I try to be patient to begin with, but shortly I started calling out “on your left” and move my way up. Several people were courageously running sans lamp, and I was eager to pick my way across the ground and forward. The terrain for most of the race was very similar. It’s not quite bridal trail, not quite single track. I think Dr. Horton describes it as a jeep trail, whereas I would say “ATV.” I’ve never run at Holiday Lake. However, I began notice it was very similar to other VA state Parks I’ve run on, where you have a mildly—rugged, not-very-technical trail that parallels a paved road. I was running just fine, at this point yo-yoing with several runners. This early in the race, it’s impossible to tell who is on pace or who will blow up (myself included). Given that, I was worried about going too fast, but also letting some competitive nature creep in. I was also getting hot. A couple of hundred yards from the first aid station, I took off my light windbreaker and stuffed it in the back pocket of my UltrAspire Spry (threw my headlamp back there too). At Masochist, I wasted a lot of time doing the same thing with a Nathan pack outer bungee cord, and this went much faster. I felt much cooler, but by fumbling with the jacket, I probably grabbed less food at the aid station that I should’ve. The next section included similar terrain, with a deep stream crossing and more mud. And at aid station 2 IT happened. Another runner (seemed like a LU student) asked the aid station volunteer how many people had come through. The response? 95. My immediate thoughts? “That’s too many.” I won’t say I greatly sped up, but I forgot all thoughts about taking it easy. I was anxious to start reeling runners in. And this was really where I started to find my rhythm. Through this sections, past aid station three, I just tried to manage that rhythm and keep it steady. The yo-yoing gradually tapered off. To be honest, I never know it it’s because my pace increases or theirs slows down. Once we started skirting the lake, I started seeing the returning runners. After the first several, I lost those outlandish illusions of a grandeur top 10 finish, and continued to work on bringing runners in. My strong points were on some of the climbs, following the advice to walk [/climb] with a purpose. Closer to the turn around point I saw some familiar faces particularly close competitors that I mysteriously became very anxious to catch (as a NC State grad, I was putting the VT ultra runners in the cross hairs). At the turn around I was surprised and glad to see Rush, who I’d met at some of the previous races and some local Fat Ass races. After a strong first loop, I was ready to focus again on control, but we both looked at my 2:21 split and Rush says, “You can totally break five hours. You could probably negative split.” Well. OK. I was hedging any bets, but coming through every subsequent section, I was mentally doing the math and trying to gauge my fatigue. Not too long after turning around I crossed paths and encouraging words with Daren, followed by Todd. A little bit later Mitzi went by, all smiles. Farther along, Maria, Michelle, and Elaine were all together, climbing a steep hill while I was descending. I was really starting to feel the fatigue sometime after aid station three on the return. I was pretty sure my pace was solid, but the visual contact with runners ahead was less frequent. I also think since I had started to watch the clock; even some of the few walking sections were making me nervous despite trying to remind myself, I didn’t NEED to nor SHOULD I being trying to race this (negative split, damn it!). I also misjudged the stream crossing on the return section. For some reason, I thought it was between three and two. When I passed aid station two, I sort of forgot about it. So when I DID cross it, I was slightly demoralized about having heavy, wet shoes again. Those last few miles I did relent a little and let myself walk some of the smaller humps (not really hills), content with my situations and wanting to have a little reserve for the very end (for what good it would do). I figured I would likely even split, or go slightly over 4:42. Like most races, the last section is a gradual (or steep!) downhill, and I felt much better after passing the 1-mile-to-go mark (Rush was also just driving past and shouted some encouragement). The pavement wasn’t much good on the feet, but excellent for striding out a little farther. Past the cones, I ran strong through the finish in 4:36:44! Definite negative split! Dr. Horton was there like he is for every runner and shook my hand, though mangled the name (It’s ok! Everyone does it! (It’s just like Duran Duran)). I waited around for the rest of the gang to finish. Maintaining their order, Daren came through followed very closely by Todd and then Mitzi. Much later we saw Michelle and Maria, while after struggling with stomach issues, Elaine rounded us out. Everyone blasts me for feeling “bittersweet” about this race. I loved claiming a 4:36 finish and 29th place. But I know I still have a first 100 miler coming up, and I’m not taking a standard recovery period, which puts me in an injury-prone zone. I’ve kept the weekly mileage lower, but not low, and next week it will back to the grind. Also, everyone is keyed up for the rest of the series. I would LOVE to join them, but have to be content with plugging my ears. Though the whole series is not the books, I’m considering going for the Grindstone 100M and Hellgate 100K this year with an eye on the whole Beast Series next year. Half of it is too accomplish something amazing. Half of it is that this is such an inspiring and support group of runners, and I always leave these races anxious to see everyone again.