photo by http://www.bighorntrailrun.com

All year I have trepidatiously dubbed this race my “Do-Over.” It’s not uncommon for me to have a poor race performance. (If every race were great, they’d all be average.) But Big Horn last year was different for me. I felt limited by my body – specifically my ankles. Despite being in great shape, I couldn’t run the downhill sections and I lost a lot of time.I knew I would have a better day this year because my ankles felt better going into the race. I had a friend ask me what I did to improve my ankles. Honestly, I didn’t do anything. I don’t stretch or do any PT exercises. It might have been dumb luck.

This race has been around forever. It runs like clockwork. There’s a very early morning bus ride to the start (4 a.m.), but it’s necessary for the 50-milers to start at 6 a.m. Aside from the beautiful views, my favorite part of this race is catching up to the 100-milers who started on Friday at 11 a.m. I have always believed that offering an encouraging word to others can go along way for making my own race worthwhile. And nobody needs more encouragement than a struggling 100-mile runner at mile 85. I met one gal, Jeanie, with about 13 miles to go. I didn’t know she was a 100-mile runner until I passed her and turned back to see her bib. “Oh my gosh, “ I said, “I thought you were a 50-miler because you were running so strong.” Her face lit up and we introduced ourselves and became fast friends. When we parted ways, we promised to see each other at the finish.

It seemed like just yesterday I had been on these trails. Every turn, every aid station, every hill, was familiar to me. (The only exception was the start. It had changed slightly from the previous year. The first two miles were different, but not noticeably. This starting line was better. There was more space, a big tent, plenty of porta potties, even a couple of outhouses.)

Just like last year, the course was wet. I changed my socks at mile-18 and put my Hokas back on. I wore the same shoes the entire day. My feet were fine. No blisters or black toenails.

My biggest area for improvement continues to be my climbing. There are certain sections of this race that are just not runable. Everyone walks. Well, I walk. Everyone else power hikes. I need more work in this area. I had a friend who took it out slowly and was 20 minutes behind me at mile 18. He caught me on the longest climb of the course about 7 miles later.

One thing I continue to get right is my fueling. I eat often. I eat a variety. I arrived at the Cow Camp aid station at mile 28.5 right around lunchtime. I was thrilled when, as if by design, the aid station worker plopped a freshly-grilled cheese quesadilla onto a plate. “That’s mine,” I announced. For some reason, having that quesadilla right at lunchtime made what I was doing (running 52 miles through the rugged wilderness) seem perfectly normal.

Most runners wear a Garmin. I don’t in ultras. I wear a watch, which I leave on the time of day. I don’t need to see how many hours or miles have passed since I started. I’d rather know it’s lunchtime without having to do the math. I guess if you know the race course, and you’ve got a race plan, a Garmin can be helpful. That’s just not the way I run.

Anyway, there is a downhill section about 11 miles from the finish. This section is several miles long. I was not able to run it last year, which was very frustrating. This year I took an Advil (thanks, Matt) just before the downhill. I ran the entire thing.

The last several miles were fairly lonely. Most people I passed weren’t in a talkative mood. Thankfully, there were plenty of aid-stations at the end. (There were three in the last seven miles.) The last two had ice. Ice in a hot ultra is like crack cocaine. Once you get some, you must have more. After I downed my ice-cold beverages, I poured the ice into my jog bra. Not sure how I thought to do that, but it worked great. I stayed nice and cool and was able to run the rest of the way to the finish, where a few Runners Roost teammates were waiting .

And there was more ice.

Not everyone had a great day. I was one of the lucky ones. Big Horn is a tough race, but I think it’s growing on me.

Speaking of tough races, up next is the Leadville Marathon on the 29th.

photo by http://www.bighorntrailrun.com

Me and Courtney at the finish. Photo by Courtney.

I finally got this one right. By right, I mean my splits. I think this was my fifith or sixth Colorado Marathon. I love this race. It’s a beautiful, mostly downhill, rolling course. It meanders down a valley along the Poudre River for the first 14 miles then flattens out and even climbs some for a few miles before continuing onto a bike path and finishing in Old Town Ft Collins. The fastest time I had run previously at this race was a 4:00.13. The slowest time would have been the first time I ran it and I was probably around 4:30. The most disappointing year was 2008 when I ran the first half in 1:48 and finished in 4:06. I felt like I was holding back the first half, but obviously I blew up.

This is a hard race to run well because of all the downhill at the beginning. When you get to the flat section, it feels like you’re running uphill. Then you get to the uphill, and, well… it’s a mole hill turned into a mountain.

I decided this year to aim for 3:45. I thought a 1:50 first half would be smart. I made a pretty long pit stop just before the timing mat at 13.1 and when I crossed the mat my time was 1:51.00. The 3:45 pacer wasn’t that far behind me. I was feeling good, especially after stopping to use the bathroom, shed clothes, and have a Gu.

Then I hit the flat (read: uphill) section on the highway. I had a moment of panic, as I always do. What was I thinking? I’m not really fooling myself into believing I enjoy this. Because I don’t.

Then I remembered my Cardinal Rule for racing: stay positive and smile if possible.

As if by design, my friend Dimity appeared out of nowhere yelling my name and taking photos. I got a jolt of adrenaline right when it was needed most — near the top of the biggest hill on the course and just before my least favorite section of the race. It was then around mile 20 that the 3:45 pace group passed me. I decided to stick with them as best I could.

They slowly put distance on me. I wished I’d had another Gu because at that point I was simply running out of gas. With about three miles to go I took a gel at an aid-station. I told myself that it was better late than never and I willed it to work magic. I have never sucked a Gu packet that dry. I was able to finish strong. My time was 3:48.03. (1:51 and 1:57)

Believe it or not, the best part of my day was two minutes after I crossed the finish line. While I was still in the finish chute, my BRF (best running friend), Julie finished in an amazing display of guts, grit, and determination. This was her first marathon in 16 years, so basically, it was like her first. She set a PR by 37 minutes. (Who does that?) Julie could have co-authored “Age Is Just a Number” with Darra Torres. Julie is 45-years old. She’s a busy mom of three young kids. She found a plan that worked for her and followed through. She didn’t hire a coach or a nutritionst. She didn’t go to the gym. She kept it simple and did the work. Julie is proof that we can get stronger and faster with age.

The next best part of my day was watching my sister cross the finish line. I’ve written about Annie before. Annie loves a challenge. She does not shy away from trying new things. A marathon at altitude on little to no training? No problem. (The last long run Annie did was in mid-March.) She ran amazingly consistent mile splits. She didn’t walk and finished in 4:54.

Up next is Big Horn 50. I’m calling it a do-over since I had such a terrible race last year. Everything seems to be falling into place. The race is June 15th.

Marla, Julie, me, and Annie

Following my Cardinal Rule

I am a control freak.

Just when I think I’ve lightened up a little, my freakishness manifests itself in a totally new and unambiguous way. Today it happened at the pool.

I’ve had the same swim cap for eight years. (Yes, a swim cap can last that long if it’s made of silicone.) I have tried to wear different caps, but nothing feels as good as this one. During triathlons and open water swims, I always wear the cheap latex cap the race directors want you to wear; however, that’s the only time I swim without my green silicone cap.

Today I swam on my own. My mind always wanders when I’m swimming alone. (OK, my mind wanders all the time, it’s just particularly obvious when my head is underwater and I’m zoning out staring at black tiles on the bottom of the pool.) Anyway, I started to think about my swim cap and how long I’ve had it and how much I like it and how pretty the color is and how it’s part of my identity and how I couldn’t swim without it…

Holy crap. I couldn’t swim without it?

That realization really bothered me. I started thinking about what I would do if it suddenly ripped. I didn’t like thinking about that, but I knew it could happen. I don’t know what the life expectancy of a standard issue Water Pro Silicone cap circa 2005 is, but it can’t be that long when you’re swimming three days per week.

I decided I needed to get rid of the cap on my terms (i.e. control freakishness). I needed it to be final so I wouldn’t sneak one last swim (which could be the swim where it tears mid-workout and causes me to have a breakdown).

So…

I know my swimming friends aren’t believing what they’re seeing. I know they’re wondering how the heck they will be able to recognize me on deck from now on. I don’t know what I’ll wear next time I get in the pool, but I have a bunch of latex caps, so I’ll find something. But I have to say, I feel better. I’m glad I was the one to end this relationship. On my terms.

Speaking of ending relationships…I was cleaning the boys bathroom yesterday and I found these.

Who can stand to keep around an empty tube of toothpaste? This is the very antitheses of controlling behaviour. And look at how randomly they’ve squished the contents out of the tubes. This gives me hope. Maybe there’s some calm-natured-go-with-the-flow-mentality in my genetic makeup after all.

Stuffing my face in my green swim cap last year

I’ve loved the actress Raven Symone since she was on the Cosby Show. When the movie College Road Trip hit the theaters about five years ago, I couldn’t wait to see it. At the time, college seemed so far off, I didn’t make any notes about how to do the whole road trip thing. Now it’s crunch-time. Nathan’s a junior and we’re looking at schools. My life hasn’t been put on hold, but it’s definitely taken on a new shape with all things college related. And things are moving way too fast for my ultra-paced mind. Deadlines are looming like aid-station cutoffs. I’m afraid I’ll miss one and blow the whole race.

I freaked out two days ago when we got a last-minute email that Nathan’s ACT test prep class had been cancelled. Not just for the day, but for the entire session. Who does that? When did it become acceptable for a business to say, “Sorry, we no longer have what you paid for, but if you let your 16-year-old drive 20 miles into the city on nights when he has multiple other activities, we’ll be able to service you, and we’ll call it fair”?

Two people asked me today why I haven’t blogged. This post is my answer. Things get kinda crazy with multiple active teenagers in the house. And with one leaving for college in a year and a half, things are sorta discombobulated. But every cloud has a silver lining. There are benefits to having a teenager approaching adulthood. Nathan entertains me at track meets and makes me patio chairs in shop class.

I ♥ track meets

I ♥ shop class

A wise (wo)man once said, “If I have only one day to live, let me spend it at a swim meet; they last forever.”

This weekend was the Colorado State Championship Meet in Fort Collins. Most of my close friends know that this has been a lackluster short-course swim season for Abby, mainly because she got pneumonia after Christmas and (to keep a long story short), has had breathing issues since. For that reason, the excitement of qualifying for state this year is not lost on us. Abby qualified for four individual events and two A Relays.

I have written several times about what it’s like to have fast kids (in the pool and on the track). You’d think I’d be getting used to it now. I’m not. I’m still slightly jealous, but mostly just in awe. How does Abby, at 102 pounds, have the muscle to swim a sub 56 seconds 100 yard freestyle? Or a 2:21 200 yard butterfly? I partly know the answer. It’s muscle memory. She swims every day at a fast speed. But I think there’s something else to it. When I ask her how she does it, she just smiles and pats me on the shoulder, and says, “It’s OK, Mom,” because she knows what I’m really asking is “Why can’t I do that?”

I can still run further than she can. At least for now.

Abby made it to finals in three of her events. She was top 10 in two. The most exciting thing to happen wasn’t her individual events. We all know things are better with friends, right? Well… the 400 medley relay Abby swam on with some of her closest friends, broke their team’s record from 1986. (I still can’t believe the record was that old; I’m awaiting confirmation.) Their names go on “the board” to be forever enshrined in Foothills Swim Team history (or until a new relay takes the record).

Heartfelt congratulations go out to Abby and her teammates for a great short-course season. She will have a two-week break starting this weekend and then we move on to my favorite (and, I think, hers) long-course meters!

(Here’s a link to a video of the 100-yard free finals.)

Just let us swim already!

We came, we swam, we kicked butt

This is what a photo taken with a timer from the hood of a car at 5 a.m. looks like

I know a good photo-op when I see one. I have run with each of these women countless times, but never the four of us together. Each of these mother runners holds a special place in my heart. It was so fun to catch up and the perfect way to start a busy day.

The most noteworthy thing on the run this morning came from Kimberley. She’s reading Scott Jurek’s book, which I think three of the four of us have read. Kim is training for her first 100 at Leadville. She very wisely observed from Scott’s book that had he not been coerced by his friend Dusty to run, he would never have become a household name.(OK, I know that’s a stretch. Scott’s not a household name unless you race crazy long distances.) Anyway, Kim’s comment, in the context of her training, was simply that she needs a “Dusty”. She wants someone to be accountable to and someone who won’t allow her to slack off.

We all committed to being Kim’s “Dusty” as she trains this year. My “Dusty” has always been Jean. Anyone else have a “Dusty”?

My “Dusty” Jean, Kim, and Laurie

I have many things to be thankful for today and it’s not even noon.

On my way to run at Matthews Winters this morning, I did not get a speeding ticket, because (lucky for me) someone else did. Whenever I drive by someone who is pulled over, my first thought is always the same, “Thank God I wasn’t here five minutes ago, because that would have been me.”

Then on the trail we found a limb. It looked fresh. Again, I think I had lucky timing as that could have been my leg. Just kidding, but, seriously, have you ever wondered how often you’ve been seen as a meal. Probably way more than you think.

Anyway, I’m also thankful for friends like Julie. I try to organize weekday runs and often she’s the only one who shows up. Julie is what Another Mother Runner has coined as a BRF (Best Running Friend).

I can’t wait to see what the rest of the day has in store.

Julie

Breakfast?