Napa Valley Triathlon: adapting on the fly, part I

Placed 8th out of 17th - not bad for a training race!

I signed up for the HITS Napa sprint triathlon a couple months ago with the intention of using it as a training race to get comfortable with things transition (I suck at them) and being in the water with other swimmers who like to grab, push and swim over you. I also excited as it would be the first triathlon that I actually was being trained for as opposed to the Lake Tahoe sprint and Donner Olympic which I did in the middle of marathon training and as my coach put it "relied on my running fitness to get me through". As race day approached, however, my excitement started to wan a bit - the lake temperature was not so promising. I already knew that the swim was known to be a cold one but it was looking like cold was an understatement. I've been in cold water before since Tahoe is the nearest body of water to practice any OWS in. It was going to be interesting to see how I tolerated water colder than Tahoe. And it gets better - the weather forecast was shaping up to be cold as well. It's ironic as I am usually worried about race day being too HOT, not too cold (I hate running when it's over 60 degrees). But I've never been on the bike when it's been less than 65-70 degrees and I certainly have never willingly gone swimming when it's been 40-50 degrees out. Oh dear. And I would be going to this race solo. My husband couldn't get the time off work so I would be on my own making the 4+ hour drive over to Napa. It's been a while since I've gone off on my own. I wouldn't be completely alone as I was meeting a fellow triathlete named Sara who I had met via our tri club, the Best Tri Club Ever. She lived near there and it was her first Olympic distance. We had already made plans to meet up this summer at Tahoe so I was looking forward to meeting her and possibly having an opportunity to cheer her on at the finish of the race.

It was SO cold that morning - setting up transition

Par for the course whenever I have to drive over the mountains, it was dumping snow the morning I had to leave. Yay! I carefully made my way over the pass and arrived safely at the hotel. Headed out to Lake Berryessa where the race was being held and where packet pick up was at. Oh, so much driving! It was about an hour drive from the hotel. As I got closer to the race site, I started seeing some 140.6 distance athletes still out on the bike. In the cold. And rain. Mad props to them. I would later find out that night they pulled about 30 athletes for hypothermia and it was a miserable race day due to the cold. I found the parking area and checked in, receiving my packet. It was real now. I was excited to be doing the first race in this training cycle for IMCDA 70.3. Headed down to the water where some athletes were getting in some swim practice and checking the water. Dipped my feet in and it didn't feel too bad. The sun had started to peek out and my spirits were high. This was going to be fun! I stayed a while to cheer on some of the 70.3 finishers who were coming in just under the cutoff. Then hopped in the Jeep and drove another hour back to the hotel. Tired of freaking driving, I was looking forward to a hot bath. Only...no bathtub at the hotel. Damn it. Picked up some Chipotle for dinner and then went through, setting everything out for the morning. I would have to leave the hotel around 4:30am to get to the race location in time to set up in transition. After I checked everything (twice....okay, maybe three times), it was time for bed.

Taped hand warmers to my cycling shoes...lol

I never have problems waking up on race morning and this was no different. Got dressed, grabbed one of my Superhero muffins from Eat Slow Run Fast cookbook and water then headed out the door. Arrived at the race to what seemed a bit chaotic and had to park what seemed to be about a mile away from transition. Oh, good. Dragging all my shit down there was going to be fun. Once I made my way into transition, I was pretty pleased with all the space each athlete had not to mention a little stool to sit on. So spoiled. I texted Sara to find out where she was at and not too much longer later, I saw her heading my way. Introduced each other, she helped me get on my wetsuit and then she was off to help Whitney (another fellow Best Tri Club Ever athlete) with an issue with her tires.

I was all zipped up and ready to go. Plodded down to the water and looked at the mist rising up from the lake. I should mention at this time...it was 38 degrees out and the current water temp was 57. Yep, I was going to freeze my ass off. I decided to skip the warm up swim as I was worried I would get too cold waiting for my wave. Once they called for the 30-39 and 40-49 women, I headed out to wait for the start. Took off for the swim and almost immediately realized that putting my face in the water was creating an odd sensation in my chest. It was like I couldn't breathe and my chest was super tight. I did some doggy paddling while my brain raced to figure out what to do. It was also at this time realized my goggles weren't sealing correctly on my face - the rubber was so cold and stiff that it wasn't forming a nice seal and hence, my goggles were leaking. To be continued......

Folsom Lake 50k: pushing past my limits. "We like to think we know things about ourselves. Those things are often what limit us" - Caolan

My first 50k. I’m not even sure where to begin. It’s been over a year and I’m just now getting around to writing about it. What does that say?? I’m still not sure how I feel about this race. It’s eerily reminiscent of Portland 2014, where I feel like I need a “do over”. Nothing went the way I planned, expected or wanted – other than the fact I finished under the cutoff and I was not DFL. I did learn that I can keep going even when I want so badly to just throw in the towel. I also learned never to believe the elevation profile listed. This 50k was only supposed to be about 2800ft of elevation gain and turned out to be over 3200ft.

The weeks leading up to the 50k were not good. I developed a sinus infection, strep throat and double ear infections. My stomach doesn't do so well with antibiotics and I was very nervous about having to take them so close to a race. Not to mention I was also missing training time. My coach assured me that I would be fine for the race even if I missed a chunk of runs this close to the race. I put my trust in her and *tried* not to freak out.

The calm before the storm :-)

We headed over the hill for the race and par for the course, it was dumping rain. Because it's always bad weather when I have go to Sacramento for races. We head to Fleet Feet and I pick up my packet. Now, it's real. I'm going to be running 31 miles around Folsom Lake. We grab a bite to eat and this is where things probably start to go wrong. I usually have pizza for dinner before most of my bigger races. We let the boy choose where to eat and he chose In-n-Out.

It really is a pretty course!

Yep, a cheeseburger the night before a 50k might not have been the wisest choice. I get to bed at a decent time and actually sleep. The next morning, I make my second mistake. My stomach is nervous so I decide to skip my usual oatmeal or toast with PB and banana. I eat a KIND bar. Not usually a problem but this was a deviation from my usual pre-race food. We leave a little later than I would like and I'm worried about getting to the start on time. Yet another thing that throws me for a loop and doesn't help my already harried nerves. As we pull up, I have less than 5 minutes to get to the start and it's a bit of a walk from the parking lot. I kiss the hubby and boy goodbye, say that I will see them in about 8 hours or so then shuffle off to the start.

I see another skirt wearer and strike up a conversation. Her name is Mimi and we decide to hang together for a bit. She's doing the 35k so I will have company for a good stretch of the race. As we head across Folsom Dam (pretty much the only flat part of the race), we chat about races. So far, so good. I can tell it's going to turn out to be a warm day. I stop to take off my top layer a few miles into the race. It's a gorgeous course but I can tell that I didn't train for lots and lots of ups and downs. I trained more on steep climbs and steep descents. That's what my legs are used to. They are not liking all the rolling hills and would rather be trucking up the side of a mountain right now. I let Mimi know that I have to pick up the pace a bit because I have a cutoff to make. The 35k folks don't have to worry about the cutoff but I do. Before I even get to mile 10, I have to stop for the bathroom. This is not a good sign. I've run marathons without having to stop. WTF.

Mimi and I in the first few miles

Mimi waits for me and we start down the trail again after I'm done. I try not to think about the 20+ miles yet to come. I glance at my Garmin and realize I really need to pick it up a little; I'm concerned because the time limit for the course is 8 hours and I know I have to maintain a certain pace. I tell Mimi I will meet her at the bottom of one of the hills. I'm also hoping there is a bathroom at the next aid station because my GI system is really unhappy. I come up to where the aid station is supposed to be but it's not directly on the trail. Nope. It's up this steep incline. Unsure of whether I want to make the trek up there, I call out to the volunteers asking if there is a bathroom. Negative. That makes my decision easy. Not stopping. It's also the turn around for Mimi so I'm not sure if I will see her again.

Gorgeous greenery

I head off into the wilderness alone. I decide I can't wait for the next aid station to see if there is a porta potty so I pull off the trail and hope I'm not traipsing through poison oak. I tried to educate myself before coming over here on what it looks like but I'm actually clueless. I have to repeat this every 2-3 miles and it's miserable. I come up to this crest on the hill and I see it's a nice downhill stretch to the turn around point in the race. I embrace the downhill and enjoy giving my legs a bit of a rest. Pick up a few snacks at the aid station, make sure I've got enough water in my pack and then turn around to head back up the hill I just came down. At this point, I'm stressing over cutoffs and I had inquired at the aid station where I was in regards to this. They said I was 17 minutes ahead of the cutoff but I'm confused because that would put the cutoff closer to 8 1/2 hours, not 8 hours. I feel the pressure of needing to move a bit faster but my stomach simply won't allow 17 min pace at this point. I try to run and have to walk; this pattern continues along with my bathroom stops.

By this time, I've run out of places for the bathroom and find myself facing Folsom Lake while all the boaters are out on the water, enjoying their day. It's hot as well, I'm sweating like a pig and my stomach is killing me. I consider quitting at each aid station I come across and then think, "I'll give it to the next aid station". And so on. I have to go somewhere else in my mind. There are tears. I think about my husband and son waiting for me at the finish line. I'm texting my coach and friend Sandra. Close to the cutoff at each aid station, all I can think about is how pissed I will be if I endured this for 8+ hours only to be told at the end that I'm not an official finisher because I didn't make the cutoff. F*ck that. I think back to the book Esther got for me, How Bad Do You Want It by Matt Fitzgerald. I try to recall passages from the book and that helps my mind move forward a bit.

Coming down into the last aid station

Lots of hills :-)

At the last aid station, with maybe 3 miles to go, I consider one last time quitting. By this time, my stomach is cramping so bad and I'm doubled over half the time. People strolling with their dogs are passing me on the trail. Humility at its finest! I see the dam and know that I have about a mile to go. I emerge from the trail and set foot on the dam. I can see the finish across the lake. So close. I get asked if there is a race somewhere and it occurs to me I'm out there, running (okay, maybe it doesn't resemble running much by this time) with a bib on while people are out with the kids, pushing strollers and walking dogs. Um, yeah...I look a little out of place. I smile and say "I think there's a race and I think I'm running it" then muster up a chuckle. By this time, I know if the cutoff is 8 hours, I have failed. But if it's 8 1/2 hours, I still have a chance. I text my husband to tell him to have a change of clothes for me and my recovery drink. I got this.

This kept me going...

Always looking at that darn Garmin!

As I hit the other end of the dam, a volunteer runs alongside me, cheering me on. While it doesn't sound fast, my last 1/2 mile was at a pace of 13:51. When you consider my overall pace was over 16 min/miles, it's pretty damn speedy....lol. My little boy meets me a few hundred yards from the finish and runs in with me. As I cross the finish, I am doubled over with exhaustion, pain and joy. I am an ultra runner. Me. The girl who couldn't run one stinking lap around the track just ran a 50k. I throw myself on the ground as hubby helps get my shoes and socks off then hands me my drink. I chug my recovery drink then realize I didn't get a medal. They ran out. Huh?? I will have to wait to get it in the mail. I inquire about the cutoff. They state it was changed a few days ago from 8 hours to 8 1/2 hours. Holy shit, I made the cut off!! It's official. And....I was NOT last. Two people finished after me! Woohoo!! I still haven't decided how I feel about that race as my trail marathon just weeks prior was a much better experience. Not all races can go the way we want. Folsom Lake 50k left me wanting more but it will have to wait until another time. I've got other big things to focus on at the moment. But someday, I'll be back for another crack at an ultra. My coach said once "we like to think we know things about ourselves. Those things are often what limit us". And never have I found this to be more true than this past year or so.

Fought harder for this finish line than any other race

Canyon Meadows Trail Marathon: A Discovery in Self

Getting ready to head out for 26.2 miles

In March, I decided to run my first trail marathon as a training run for the 50k which would be five weeks later. It would be my last long run before the big day at Folsom Lake Trail 50k.  I purposely choose Canyon Meadows Marathon in the Bay area which had an elevation gain of 3000ft, which was a few hundred feet more than the 50k.  I figured that if I could make it through a trail marathon with more elevation, I would good to go for the 50k.  As race day approached, I started to have huge anxiety because the longest run I had done up to that point was 14 miles. Having done three road marathons, this freaked me out. I am used to 18, 20 miles runs in preparation for a road marathon. But I trusted my coach when she told me I would be fine and that I couldn't compare the two - trails and road. She's done enough of both and I had faith in her coaching.

I was nervously keeping an eye on the weather because it was supposed to be raining on race day.  I'm fine running in the rain, even enjoy it but on trails, you never know if this will lead to a muddy mess on the course. I've had enough experience running in the mud to know that it's a pain in the ass.  Fun but a pain in the ass and I didn't feel like doing it for 26 miles. Thankfully, on race morning the weather looked like it would be perfect. Some scattered light showers here and there with moderate temperatures.  The rain wouldn't get bad until later in the afternoon, around the time I was going to be finishing. I was cool with that :-) 



The mudpit in the first mile

Hubby dropped me off at the start area to pick up my bib. I wasn't really nervous as I was looking at this like a training run but I was excited. It would be my 4th marathon and my first trail marathon. This was something I never saw myself doing.  As we lined up to listen to the course instructions, I was grateful that Tony had given me a run down of the course, especially the first hill right out of the start. Not only was that hill practically straight up but it was a big muddy mess. Two runners actually lost their shoes in the mud, which was hilarious. And I watched a few others try to go around it by going off course and ending up in poison oak. Yeah, I decided just to trudge through the mud and stay in the shallow sections. The first hill climbed for about a mile or so and I was happy when the trail flattened out a bit. I did learn, however, that I am a pretty decent power hiker up hills. This is a good thing since I will be doing quite a bit of that at Tahoe. I decided to really pay attention to walking up all the hills then running the flats/downhills nice and easy. I knew it was a two loop course and was focused on trying to pace myself.

If you look carefully, you can see the bay :-)

The views were beautiful and at one point, you could see the bay from the trail. I stopped to take a fair amount of pictures (more about all that time lost later...a lesson learned). Hit the first aid station and filled up my front flask with Tailwind. I had started the race with about a liter of water in the back reservoir and one flask filled with Tailwind in the front. Then I had a small 5oz flask filled with concentrated Tailwind - 1oz was about 200 calories.  When I filled up the 500ml flask at the first aid station, I added 1oz of the Tailwind concentrate as well. I had brought additional snacks such as Justin's Almond Butter packs, Honey Stinger Waffles and a Honey Stinger gel. I wasn't sure how fueling was going to go but that's why I was running this race - as a learning tool for other trail runs to come. The aid station volunteers were all really nice and then they heard it was my first trail marathon, they responded with "and you picked THIS one??  Nice!"  Same thing from some fellow runners on the course. 

Trails make my heart happy

As I came down the backside of the mountain at the end of the first loop, I was surprised at (1) how good I felt and (2) my time. Before I started the race, I was figuring about 8 hours for a finishing time. The course limit was 8 hours 45 minutes because they were running a 50k on the same course. I came into the aid station that was around mile 11 and stopped to chat for a few minutes then they told me my pace. I was on target to hit about 3:30 for that first loop. I decided I would take it easy the next mile or two to finish out the loop since I knew I had that monster hill climb at the start of the second loop. The last stretch of the loop was my least favorite. Because of all the rain, they had to reroute part of the course as the trail wasn't runnable and blocked by downed trees.  So it was on a paved bike/walking path. Not my favorite thing after being on the trail for 3+ hours. I pulled into the start/finish line which is where the aid station was before starting the second loop.  Tony had warned me about this as well; his words were "get in, get out" because the half marathoners were hanging around, eating burgers and drinking beer. Mentally, I knew it would be hard to take off for another loop with that going on. So I quickly stopped to have the water refilled in my pack, take a few salt tabs and be on my way. As I headed up the big hill, some of the 35k runners were coming down the hill and saying to me "almost there" or "the turn around is close".  I would chuckle thinking how I had an entire loop to run.

It's funny; the second time on the loop, it occurred to me that nothing looked familiar. It was like I was on whole other course. Which was kind of nice!  I trucked along, thinking how weird it was that not only was I running a trail race but another marathon. Me. The girl who struggled through her first marathon and said "never again" only to sign up for a second the next week. I also realized that I hadn't once pulled out my earbuds to listen to music. Hours and hours of running without music - that was something I never saw myself doing. For some reason, having music while on the trails doesn't appeal to me. I enjoy being focused on my surroundings and I can't do that with music. Fueling was starting to get a little difficult - I had been good about drinking my Tailwind and taking in salt tabs but I knew I needed a bit more calories than the Tailwind was providing and the sweet stuff I brought just wasn't appealing. I was having to force feed myself the Honey Stinger waffles...and I LOVE the Gingersnap ones. But not this day. It was all I could do to get in the calories. The almond butter packs were okay but I really wanted something savory. I stopped at one of the later aid stations and was chatting with the volunteers when I noticed the potatoes. Potatoes next to a bowl of salt. Oh, heaven. I gobbled up a few of them and it was the best thing I had ever eaten. Then I saw the Coke. Not Pepsi; anyone who knows me knows what a purist I am and won't touch Pepsi. I don't drink Coke on a regular basis but today, I guzzled down a few Dixie cups and told the volunteers they were like trail angels!  So good and it gave that little boost I needed to continue on. By this time, I was out on the course pretty much by myself. I knew there were several 50k runners and a few marathoners behind me somewhere but I wasn't sure how far behind. As I headed into the backside of the loop and down the hill, I felt very isolated. It was both a welcome and unnerving experience.  I started singing The Brady Bunch at the top of my lungs as I seriously expected a bear to come crashing onto the trail at any moment. If I was bear, I would have been hanging out there.

First and foremost

I stopped briefly on the downhill to reflect a little, pull out my AA coin and have a conversation with my Higher Power. It was somewhat of a spiritual experience, being in that last 10k of the marathon, feeling tired, sore and hungry but at the same time, amazed at what I was doing. And I know I wasn't alone out there. I felt a strong presence with me and the tears came. It's amazing what we can do when we set our minds to something and have faith. I said a quiet thank you and had some brief words with my mom, who I KNOW was up there watching me.  She's proud of her little girl who has finally found inner strength and determination. It was time to finish this thing. I resumed flying down the hill - that last part was a lot of fun, despite hyperextending my knee twice (I need to learn to reign it in a bit when coming downhill).  As I passed through that last aid station and got some cheers, my legs felt super heavy and my mind was already thinking of that dreaded last stretch of bike path. I had to pass the finish line for the third time which was mentally challenging.  But as I came into the finish area on my way out to bike path, I saw my husband and grinned. That was exactly what I needed at that moment. I ran over the car, knocked on the window (yes, in the middle of my race!) and got a quick kiss, smile and words of encouragement. Then I was off to complete my first trail marathon. As I headed out on the bike path, the rain started and I felt very alone out there. I didn't see any runners and it was very quiet.  Then I spotted one of the marathoners heading towards me so I knew I was getting close to the turn around. I picked up the pace a little and saw the turn around sign. It was all I could do not to scream with joy. I knew that I had less than a mile to go.

This was a fun section of the course!

I should mention here that I had stopped looking at my Garmin back around mile 22. I knew when I completed the first loop in about 3:30 that even if I walked the second loop, I would make the cut off and maybe even my goal of 8 hours. I didn't walk that second loop but I stopped worrying about time and just enjoyed being out there. I felt like my second loop was slower, much slower but it didn't concern me. I really didn't have an idea of where I was at, time-wise. I was just focused on finishing, seeing my husband and giving him a big hug. I did glance down at my current pace a few times and was shocked to see a 9 min pace- at the end of a difficult trail marathon. What was THAT about??  It put a grin on my face as I came down the bike path and into the area where the finish line was set up.

As I got closer, I saw the clock.  What?!?  I could see the number "6" on the clock for the hours and was in disbelief. How in the hell did I run this thing an hour faster than I anticipated???  With 14 miles being my longest run and not really much of a taper??  Then I got close enough to see "6:58:30 and was determined to get to that finish well under 7 hours.  I came screaming into the finisher's chute (literally) and crossed the finish line, sobbing for joy. Not only did I surpass my goal by over an hour, but I felt like I *could* have kept running and done the 50k.  Of course, that would have meant another climb up that wretched hill and I wasn't really feeling it.  LOL.  The last lonely volunteer at the finish line placed that medal around my neck and all I could think about was how unbelievable it was that I was now a four time marathoner. What? Crazy talk, right there! I hugged my husband and thanked him for being there to support me; it meant the world to me that he was at the finish line. There is nobody I would rather have there than him. He's been my #1 fan and supporter, making it possible for me to continue chasing my dreams.

That is a strong finish!

Then came the ugly part - climbing into the car for the five hour drive home. My legs were going to hate me. We stopped in Sacramento for a bite to eat and for me to stretch my legs. I was really surprised at how good my legs felt. How good everything felt. That is the way I like to race - being challenged yet feeling strong at the end.  Turns out, I wasn't last. I think I came in ahead of about 5-6 other runners. That was kind of nice since I am a total trail newbie. I can't say enough about my coach. She's put up with my doubt, my incessant questions and anxieties. Training under has taught me what it's like to have a really good coach, someone who has the knowledge and experience to take her runners as far as they can imagine going then take them beyond that. It's uncomfortable and scary sometimes....okay, a lot of the time. But I've learned to have that faith and trust in her, following her guidance and am reaping the rewards. I needed this race. It was more than just a race. I connected with that strong woman inside of me. And that spills over into the rest of my life. It's not just about running. It never was.

Stepping backwards in time a bit - my first real trail running experience

Mud, rocks, hills, water crossings...my trail running initiation at the Folsom Sweetwater Trail Half

Having been on the trails less than a total of 10 times, I was rightfully nervous about my first trail half marathon.  Unchartered territory for me, unfamiliar terrain and feeling totally clueless didn't exactly put my mind at ease.  It had been raining for two days straight and all I could think about was how muddy and wet the course would be, especially since it was a much lower elevation and I knew the ground would be softer than we had in the Sierras. But if I'm going to do this thing called trail running then I had better get used to the idea that I can't control the weather nor can I control what the conditions would be come race day.

At the start in my brightly colored SparkleSkirt!

My husband and I arrived in Sacramento after driving through a torrential downpour over the Sierras. We headed for packet pick up where I would learn, much to my horror, that the race director had changed the half marathon course. I tell the lady giving me my bib that this is my first trail race and she immediately looked concerned then said I would want to listen to the change in course directions very carefully. Not a good sign? The race director started to explain and my head was spinning from all the instructions....look for the pink ribbons, now turn this way, follow for 3/4 of a mile, now look for red ribbons, make sure you don't go up the down path, don't go past that orange cone, pick up the pink ribbon path again, etc. Oooooookay. This was going to be an adventure. I told my coach I was pretty sure I was going to get lost and stuck in the mud.  She said "have fun" with a smiley face emoticon. Sigh. No sympathy there! Later that night, I kept looking out the window, waiting for the rain to stop. Nope. Mother Nature was going to make sure I got a proper introduction to running on something other than pavement. 



Gorgeous morning for a run

By morning, the rain had stopped but things were still very wet. Shoved a fig bar and banana down my throat, filled up my reservoir with Tailwind, gathered all my crap and we headed out to the start. The race started in a small parking lot near a place called Salmon Falls in Folsom. The RD once again explained the change in half marathon course, which still didn't make sense. We all lined up and when the race started, we proceeded to......walk. Single file on a very narrow single track for about 1/2 mile or so. No staggered start, huh? Hmmm. So the 10k, 8 milers, half marathoners, 18 milers, 25k and 50k all started out at the same time. We finally got to an area where it thinned out a bit. I had checked what I could online about the course, mainly the elevation and how technical the trail was; most of what I found pointed to about 300ft of elevation gain and not too technical. Wrong on both counts. Don't believe everything you read on the internet...lol.  After a few miles, I quickly realized the elevation gain of this race would be far MORE than 300ft. I have not been running trails long but my legs know the different between flat and hills. It was also a fairly technical course, with very narrow singletrack, muddy areas, some rocky spots and a water crossing (more on that later...hahaha). The course was absolutely gorgeous and while the rain made for some muddy running, it also made everything green and luscious.



My road shoes didn't like this part too much

The early morning fog emphasized the beauty of the area. At about mile 3, I came up on a rushing river. Okay, it was probably a creek but with all the rain, it looked more like a damn whitewater rafting river! I looked around for the bridge because don't most normal people use a bridge to cross water? Apparently, not when running a trail race. I noticed some folks sitting down and taking off their shoes then gingerly making their way across the knee high water. Hmmm. Well, I know I'm not taking off my damn shoes because it would be my luck to accidently drop one which would then be carried away by the current. I figure, what's the worst thing? I run the remaining 10 miles with sopping wet feet. I guess I will find out if I can run with wet feet (and I had dry socks in my pack so I could always stop and change into them). When in Rome...off I went into the water. Got across to the other side and started running again.



Where's the bridge??

Not bad, not bad. I could deal with the squishy shoes and socks. Praying for no blisters, I continued on. After about mile 5, I started to pay attention to the course more as I knew the turn off for the half marathoners was coming up. As I came around a corner, I saw the orange cone that I knew indicated the path I would be running down to meet up with the main trail again. Other half marathoners were coming back towards me on the main trail saying they got lost, there was no turn off, etc. I kept going, figuring I would just run out 6.5 or so and then turn around back to the finish, which would get me my 13 miles. As I passed mile 6, I saw the sign directing the half marathoners off to the left. Aha! I didn't get lost! I followed the red ribbons then saw where it picked up the main trail again.





Stunning green trails and I look forward to coming back here in April

Came up on another half marathoner who had passed me a while back, stating she must have gotten lost and couldn't find the turn off.  We fell in step together, one behind the other chatting about running, work and other various small talk. As we came up on the river (er, creek), I remarked how the course would probably be short as the creek was about 3 miles from the start and we were at about mile 8. That kind of sucked, knowing that my first trail half marathon would likely be more of a trail 10 miler. The water had gotten higher than it was the first time I crossed it but we managed to get across safely and continued heading back towards the start. It was starting to get warm up and it was then I realized a problem with using the damn reservoir in my pack for my hydration/fuel. I couldn't tell how much I had consumed and I was actually out. I had no water left and no Tailwind Well then. Doh. So I guess it was a good thing the course was short! 



My feet never looked like this after a road race...lol

As we came up the last ascent and crossed the finish, they yelled our time. I wasn't doing this for time, thankfully, so I didn't much care that it was slooooooow. I grabbed some snacks off the table, picked up my finisher's certificate - wait, certificate? Where the hell is my medal?  Hahaha. There's another difference between pavement and trail - I don't know of a half marathon I ever did where they didn't hand out medals. Not a big deal to me and it made me realize how much I've changed as a runner from the days that I refused to run a race, no matter what the distance, unless there was a medal at the end. I was just happy to be done and grateful to have had such a beautiful place to run.



Definitely not a pavement pounder today!

I would definitely love to run this trail again. Good thing since my 50k is on the same trail! It was a nice sneak peek to what I will be running on come April. And as far as the elevation goes, definitely NOT 300ft. It was1300ft. That will teach me to believe everything I see on the internet. I know now to be prepared for anything. I'm very proud that I not only started the race (with all the rain and the last minute course change, etc. I was very tempted to just not do it) but that I finished it with a smile on my face, loving it and wanting more.


Portland to New York. Two marathons, two different coasts and four weeks apart: Part 1 of 2

Esther and I headed into the expo

I would not have planned this on purpose (to run two marathons almost back to back) but when you put in for the NYCM lottery and are actually chosen, how can you say no?  And I wasn't about to give up Portland because that was to be my comeback race. So I did the logical thing - I asked my coach what in the hell I was going to do. She gave me two options: run Portland as a training run and go for a PR in New York or run Portland hard and run New York as a recovery run. Haha...run a marathon to recover from a marathon. Cute. But that's what I chose and I am really happy with how it worked out. I flew in on Thursday prior to race weekend and Esther picked me up from Newark. I will always be grateful to Esther for inviting me into her home and being a wonderful host!  We hit the expo on Friday and I went into the city by myself on Saturday to do some sightseeing then meet up with Caolan and Sandra at the expo. I hit Penn Station, Times Square and then took a cruise around the city to see all the bridges I would be getting to run over on Sunday.

Coast to coast marathons - Portland to NY

 So race morning started VERY early; I honestly don't even remember what time it was as it was over a year ago (yeah, you could say I suck at updating my blog....lol).  But I was heading to Staten Island on Esther's running club bus and since most of them are ridiculously fast, they were in the first waves. Hence, an extremely early arrival to Staten Island only to wait around for a few hours until my 11:00am wave started. I arrived at Ft. Wadsworth and immediately was enthralled with all the activity. SO many people. So much going on. We were herded into the start village where I attempted to contact my coach unsuccessfully. My phone wasn't playing nice with all the cell usage and I pretty much gave up trying to find her and Sandra. I did what any grown woman would do - I plopped myself on the grass and cried. Yep, I started sniffling like a baby. I don't do well in crowds and especially not when I already had anxiety going on. Then I hear a voice from the heavens....no, wait...it was just my coach. Might as well have been a voice from above because I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. She gathered me up and took me over to where the rest of the gang was waiting. And we waited. And waited some more.

Sandra, Caolan and I waiting in our corral for the start

Then, it was time to head to the corrals. Again, SO many people!  I was really impressed with how quickly they get the runners across that start line with so many of us. As Frank sang New York, New York, we headed over the Verrazano Bridge. I was kicking myself for not picking up a DD beanie so I went shopping on the bridge - found a hat in perfect condition and shoved into my skirt for the duration of the marathon.

In the first mile of the marathon on the Verrazano Bridge

Coach had given me course specific paces as NY is a hard marathon to pace. I really did try to follow it and was actually somewhat successful. I did some walking, did some jogging, did some photo taking then ran a little more. It was a great start to the morning. Loved going over the bridge and seeing the city from a different view. I was feeling pretty damn good so far but was also trying to keep in my mind what my coach had told me. When we were discussing the race, she had said to me that at some point in the race, I was probably going to find out my legs were not as recovered as I thought they were - she gave me until around mile 15-16.  So I was keeping that in the back of my head and just enjoying the race, sticking to a 13 min or so mile. As I was headed down one of the streets, probably around mile 6 or so, I see this skirt. It's a skirt I recognize because it was a custom she had made for the race...it was Kristin! She was a FB friend who wasn't even sure she would start the marathon because of all the pain/injuries she had leading up to the race. I was SO happy to see her running and running well. I had been hoping I would run into a few of my fellow SparkleSkirt wearers on the course and especially her.

Kristin and I after the halfway mark!

I caught up with her and asked her how she was doing; she said "so far, so good" and that her ankle wasn't bothering her at all. We had very different styles of running as I was doing Galloway, running for 2 min and walking for 1 min and Kristin was straight running. But we decided to hang for a while and ran together, chatting and taking in the sights. We were also in her neighborhood, Brooklyn (I think) and by far one of my favorites out of all the five boroughs. I think I veered off for the bathroom, we parted ways and said good luck to one another. I waited forever in line at the porta potty and then headed back out to the course. Wouldn't you know it, Kristin and I ran into each other again. Um, how often does that really happen??  A huge race like NY with 50,000 runners, two people who have never met in person and we run into each other....twice. So we decided to stick together. A lot of the middle miles are a blur but oh, do I remember the QB bridge. Remember when I mentioned that my coach thought I would feel the Portland marathon in my legs?  Around mile 15-16? 

Oh, this bridge....it went on and on and on....

Well, halfway up that damn bridge, my legs suddenly realized they were running another marathon. And they began to protest. No pain, just tired and dead legs. Lots of walking on that damn bridge...lol. We hit Manhattan and I knew I would be seeing my friend Esther soon - that kept me going. I was also hoping to meet Joan, another FB friend I hadn't met in real life but who was volunteering at one of the aid stations. I was looking forward to a hug or two. This next stretch of miles, until 20 or so, was probably another of my favorites. Not sure why. I just really enjoyed the crowd support and I knew we were getting closer to that finish. At some point, we hit these green things on the road....sponges, hundreds and hundreds of sponges. I was focused on not tripping and breaking an ankle at this point. They were everywhere.

Part two of the marathon report up next.......

PORTLAND MARATHON 2015 - FINDING MY HEART AND SOUL AGAIN. PART 2 OF 2

I realized that with NYCM weekend being over, I need to complete part 2 of 2 for Portland! When I left you last, I was just passing the 10k mark in the marathon and realizing my paces were too fast. With the inability to slow down (or was it sheer stupidity that kept me from dropping my pace to a more appropriate 12:30 min/mile?), I knew the back half of the race might prove to be more difficult than the first half. Took my first set of salt tabs and realized I really needed to pee. Really???  I solve the OTHER bathroom issue and my body rebels by saying "haha...you are STILL going to have to stop". Sigh. I thought maybe, just maybe I could wait until after the race. I am a nurse, after all. We have bladders of steel! So in the first six miles, I cruised past the port a potties I saw figuring I could wait it out. As I crossed over the 10k marker, I realized there was no way I could keep running comfortably unless I stopped. I was afraid of missing Cherie on the out and back portion - I really wanted to see a familiar face and offer her a smile since I knew her goal was a tough one. But I needed to stop. So I pulled up the first set of port a potties I saw - two lonely ones sitting by the side of the road. I figured how long could it take? Well, three minutes later and with nobody exiting from either one, I became frustrated and starting looking for a bush somewhere. Unfortunately, there was nothing but parking lots on the side of the road and time was ticking. So with a heavy sigh, I left and decided I would just hold it until I came across more bathrooms.

This sign came at the perfect moment. Just beyond it is where I stopped to fix a blister before heading up to the bridge.

This portion of the Portland Marathon is my least favorite. It's a long out and back that is B-O-R-I-N-G. They try to spice it up with pirates and DJ's but it's still long and boring. The only thing that kept me interested was scanning the faces of the runners coming back in hopes of catching a glimpse of Cherie. I passed the 4:30 pace group so I knew she wouldn't be too far behind that. Several minutes later, I saw her and waved furiously...she smiled and waved back, yelling out some encouraging

This is just before the half runners split off

words. I then turned my attention to the search for a port a potty. And like I remembered from last year, there was a group of them just before the turn around. I hopped into line and within about 3 minutes, I was back on course. After finishing the long out and back, where the course also splits from the half as they make their way back to the finish, I did a quick check of how I felt. So far, so good. My legs felt great, none of my tendons were angry yet and my hamstring wasn't even bothering me. It was starting to warm up a little but there was a cool breeze that helped offset the temps. I popped my second set of salt tabs; I was being very careful to keep on top of my Tailwind and the salt tabs. I knew from training this would set me up for a successful GI experience....lol.


We headed into a little bit of a hilly area and then it was time to start the approach to the bridge. This part is my second least favorite. It doesn't last very long - maybe 2 miles? But it's along a busy road and it's ugly. The only thing that kept me smiling here was seeing all the Team in Training runners and thanking them for running. I also saw a lady who had to been 70-80 years old, trucking along at a speedy pace and told her she was amazing. Just before the hill up to the bridge, the hot spot on my right foot that had been in the back of my mind came to a head and I needed to stop to fix whatever was developing. I didn't want to stop because I knew taking off my shoe would cost me precious minutes. But I also knew if I didn't fix this impending blister, I may not be able to walk come mile 20. I sat down, proceeded to take off the shoe and sock while pulling some moleskin out of my skirt pocket. Fixed the blossoming blister (or so I thought; more on that later) and got back to running. Hit the hill that leads up the gorgeous St. John's bridge and decided I was going to run the entire thing. It's a very steep hill about 1/2 mile long and it sucks. But I'm proud to say I ran up the entire thing, albeit slowly. That made my day! As I started across the bridge, I was thinking in the back of my head that this is around where the wheels started to come off last year and there was some apprehension as I waited for my legs to start failing. That moment didn't come and in fact, never came.


The gorgeous St. John's Bridge that you get to run over - it's breathtaking

I headed down the other side of the bridge and into the slightly hilly neighborhood that would take me up into mile 20. Last year, this is where I became nauseous and by mile 22, was texting my husband that I wanted to quit. Not so this year....I was running and smiling, waving at the spectators and thanking the volunteers. I had taken another set of salt tabs just after the bridge and it would be time for the last two of the race in a few miles. No nausea, no pain anywhere and my legs still felt fresh. I was slowing down a bit and I expected that since I went out too fast in the first half. But I still felt REALLY good. So good, in fact, that I was suspicious. Haha. I had no idea if this was the calm before the storm but I decided to embrace it and enjoy the moment. Stopped briefly to fix my foot as the moleskin had slipped off the blister. I lost a couple minutes but imagine I saved many more as I prevented a bigger and more painful problem. As I headed down the long stretch of miles 22-23, I remember vividly how I felt last year. I was so done, so hot and so miserable. I felt terrible that I was making Cherie walk so much and guilty that I had ruined her first marathon experience. It was a really disgusting way to feel and I am so grateful at this moment that it's the polar opposite this year. I hit the aid station at mile 23 and that was a turning point for me. Last year, our spouses and kids met us there with ice and I wanted to be done. I wanted to stop and hang out with them, not continue running. I cruised through it this year, thanking the volunteers handing out water.

Coming off the St. John's Bridge around mile 16-17

As I passed the spot where I had told Cherie to go on without me last year, I was overcome with emotion. I was going to do this thing. I was going to finish and finish strong. It was then that my left calf decided it was done and seized up. OMG. Such pain. I started hobbling, then decided I would just walk and stretch for a bit. I was coming up on the second bridge - the bridge I have NO recollection of from last year....hahaha. I decided I would walk across the bridge and after that, since I would have about two miles to go, I could run. I mean, two miles. I can do anything for two freakin' miles. Got over the bridge and picked up the pace while being mindful of my calf. It seemed to be okay and it hit me that even if I had to walk these last two miles, I was going to have a great PR and probably be close to my B goal of 5:30. This realization put a huge smile on my face and I picked up the pace as much as I could. I was definitely feeling the faster first half of the marathon and in retrospect, that is the only thing I would change about this race - I would slow my ass down in the first 18 miles. But all in all, I couldn't believe that things didn't get hard until well after mile 20. I mean, I didn't even run 20 in training and was a little nervous that everything would fall apart after I hit 18 miles. They didn't and even though these last 2-3 miles were tough, they weren't painful and they didn't make me want to quit.



Nobody should look this happy in mile 26

I came out onto Nato street, which would be the last long stretch of the course until I would make a right, then a left and hit the finish. This is where I ran into Kara last year. It was her first marathon as well and she was struggling with severe ITB pain. I had stopped to help her stretch then kept her hobbling that last mile to the finish. While it cost me my B goal last year of finishing under 6 hours (my official time was 6:00:07), I don't regret it for a minute. Part of running is being supportive to your fellow runners. Having her for company in those last minutes of the race helped me across the finish and it was a bright moment in what was an otherwise disappointing end to the race. So when I passed by the very spot where I met Kara, I glanced at my Garmin and did some quick math. Not only was I going to hit my B goal of 5:30, but I may just go under that! With this in mind, I picked up the pace and headed in for the finish. This year, there was no almost throwing up, no peeing my pants (yes, I will admit to this being the case last year!). Instead, I was feeling ah-mazing. Which was very strange. I thought I should have been dragging ass and feeling like I was hit by a bus. Nope. As I crossed the finish, I looked at the clock and it said 5:41. Since I didn't start until after a few other corrals had done, I knew it was well under that but had no idea of the exact time. I would post on FB a little later "hey, does anyone know my finish time"....lol. All I knew is that I had reached my B goal and that was enough for me.

And it's a wrap! The finish line!

My hard earned medal

Found Cherie and we sat on the sidewalk for a while, stuffing our faces with chips and checking our Facebook. And I found out that not only had I accomplished my goal of 5:30 but I had gone under that by almost 4 minutes! OMG. Seriously. How could I have taken 34 minutes off my time from last year and feel so GREAT???  This made me so very happy. I needed to rewrite the Portland Marathon chapter of my life and I did. This is what you are supposed to feel like after your first marathon. I am very lucky - I got to have two first marathon experiences in a way. Very grateful. The test would be in a month when I run New York. How well would my legs hold up? Would I even be able to finish it? Would I get to the starting line without injuries? Who really knew as this was totally unprecedented. I don't even think I've run two half marathons within a few weeks of each other, let alone two marathons. Only time will tell how I hold up but I think things are in my favor. I've got a great coach who knows her stuff and as long as I do what she tells me to do, I think I will cross the finish line of New York. At least, I hope :-)



Yep, I am a two time marathoner with a 34 min PR!