what I did during my Badwater run.

How do you begin telling the story of how your dream came true? Maybe you start with the how the dream was born?

THE DREAM BECOMES A GOAL

10th grade

I heard about Badwater 135 back when I was in high school (like, in the late 80's, dude). I was not an athlete. I was not a runner. I was on the debate team and was taking college prep classes so I could get into college with scholarships so I could get out of the small town I grew up in. But something about this event stuck in my brain.

Fast forward to July 2008 when I ran my first ultra, the White River 50 miler and then on to August 2010 when I finished my first 100 at the Cascade Crest Classic. Somewhere in the midst of all this running (and reading about ultra running) I realized that I could run the Badwater 135 Ultramarathon. What was born in high school as a little dream turned into the raging flame of a goal. And, like most ultrarunners, I am very goal oriented. Once I set my mind on accomplishing something, I tend to get a tad bit focused on it.

First 100 mile finish. So sweet! Kris paced me here, John crewed.

I decided to apply to run the 2011 race. However, the standards were changed and I was no longer qualified to run. I thought about applying anyway but didn't want to irritate the race director. I looked at this one year delay as an opportunity to get stronger and smarter and better prepared for Badwater. But at that point, every step, every run, every race became part of the journey that would successfully get me to Badwater.

My good friend, Dory, at Arrowhead.
She kept following me!

Even the "bad" runs helped me get ready for Badwater. The painfully slow miles of Arrowhead 135 taught me patience. The last 40 miles of Javelina Jundred taught me how to walk/power hike with purpose. The endless one mile loops at Pac Rim 24 Hour taught me how to focus on the joy that is there somewhere in every step. The ridiculous mud at Lumberjack 100 taught me how to laugh at  such silly endeavors that we pay actual money to be a part of. All the while I learned about my strengths, my weaknesses, my nutritional needs and what it really means to be an ultrarunner on the mental and spiritual level.

Linda & I roadtrippin' after BW 2011

My good friend, Linda, and I crewed Terry Sentinella at Badwater in 2011. We learned a lot. I took what I knew would work for me and changed what I knew wouldn't. I got to see Badwater in action which brought to life all I had read and heard about it (which was a lot). I had a plan. Then I just had to get in. Which, obviously, I did.

THE RACE

What can I say, my race was actually really quite boring. I had a super awesome team (name: High Voltage) consisting of John Pearch, Kris Ryding, Sean Sexton, Linda Huyck, Cyndie Merten and Nick Harvey who all did such a great job of taking care of me that I had no major issues. No blood blisters (just 3 small regular toe blisters), no vomiting (just some queasiness), no heat stroke, no med tent, no tears. Nothing. Just perpetual forward motion. I didn't even change my clothes. Well, my socks and shoes once, but that was planned ahead of time.

My goal was to finish in 40 hours. I managed a finish time of 35:49:58. BAM! Finished before the sun set! 5th place woman and 35th overall.

The temperature was pretty mild this year at Badwater. The high reached 113 and stayed there for a few hours (average is 117). However, what we did have this year was a 40 mph sustained head wind while climbing Towne's Pass. The gusts were stronger; much stronger. The wind wasn't as hot as it "could" have been but it was definitely a force to be dealt with.

At this point I could tell you what my splits were, what my pace was, how many times (and when, thank to my crew writing it all down) I had a bodily function, who passed me, who I passed, how much salt I took in, how much ice we went through...or what not. But really, I didn't do anything special. Maybe I'll save those logistics for a different blog post.

What you can't discern from any of the the results is what was going on in my mind.

THE THOUGHTS IN MY MIND

Before the start


Goofy tears & emotions at Furnace Creek on Saturday before the race.



Loading up on salt.

High Voltage Feet!

• I AM AT BADWATER 2012! This is my race number! They are taking my picture for the website! I'm finally here!!!
• I AM AT FURNACE CREEK!! As a runner! I am here! Oh my gosh! I am right here right now!!
• I hope I hit that sweet spot that you sometimes hit when you run. You know, THAT spot where nothing hurts, not even pain, when you feel like you could go forever? I want that here at Badwater. I hope I get that spot and not that other one.

Start to Furnace Creek (mile 0 to mile 17):

Kris & Nick on the way to the start!

Me, Kris, Nick & John taking the traditional picture at the start.

Standing at the back of the 8 a.m. start wave w/Karla Kent.

Chris Kostman does the countdown and yells "GO!"

• Why aren't I crying? I always get a little emotional in the first 1/2 mile or so. I'm just too friggin' happy! I'm finally here, doing THIS! Badwater 2012!

Almost all the 8 a.m. starters are WAY in front of me

• Why is everyone so far ahead? Gheesz. I am s l o w. Wow. This sucks. I'm pretty much alone and everyone is getting smaller and smaller. Oh hey! There's HIGH VOLTAGE!

Crew 1 starts offering me ice bandannas very early on

• Really? Why are they doing that? It isn't even hot. Seriously. It takes energy to say "No thank you" so why even offer it so soon?
• OK, fine. If they are going to keep offering it (3 times total) then I should take it just to make them happy but not because I need it yet.

Largish hill up ahead

• I should hike this but I'm so far back and running feels so good. And this hill isn't that big, just big relative to the flat stuff.
• Drat. Crew 1 just yelled at me to slow down. Guess I'll hike this hill. And that next one. But not because I need to but because I trust my crew to tell me what to do.

More cool stuff to see all around

• Wow. This is so cool. I'm running in Death Valley at Badwater 2012! Look at those cool mountains! Look at how the sun is hitting the rocks. Feel how the temperature changes in the sun versus in the shadows. OMG!! I am right here right now!!!

Furnace Creek Check Point

• Yeah! All the crew is here! They are so excited and are asking me so many questions. I don't know. Just whatever! I'm on the grass at the Furnace Creek Check Point and I just checked in at Badwater 2012!! Hey I need to stretch here. John, not so much sunscreen. Just a mist please!
• All right, let's go! Sure, Cyndie can pace! I'm doing fine on my own but this is just so much fun!

Furnace Creek to Stovepipe Wells (mile 17 to mile 42):

Hey, were starting to see more cars and some of the same cars! That must mean I'm catching up to the 6 a.m. wave and the 8 a.m. wave that was so far ahead of me at the start.

• Just keep running, this feels so good! Oh, there's a hill. I will walk that. I don't want to but I will.
• WOW! The lead guy, Mike Morton, just passed me. Wish I could run like that but at least I get to see it!
• It's getting hotter and the sun beating on my left ear and the wind hitting it too, think I'll get an ice towel and make myself a little cave.
• Man, that wind feels cool now! This towel rocks! How come no one else is using a towel?
• Hey, there's Jarom Thurston! Yeah I get a hug and lots more positive energy! What do you mean "Slow Down", Jarom? I'm just running happy stupid!
• There's Marshall Ulrich! He said I ought to be able to run up a lot of Towne's Pass. Ha ha! Hope I didn't make a fool of myself visiting with him. His crew actually reached down and removed a rock from his path. And I thought High Voltage was an awesome crew!
• Hey, there's Stovepipe Wells already! Time to sit, change my socks and shoes, eat and start the climb.

John asks if I want to jump in the pool

• It's not that hot. I am raring to go! I'm here at Badwater 2012!

Stovepipe Wells to Panamint Springs (mile 42 to mile 72):

At this point in the race the wind really picked up (to about 40 mph). I was planning on running some of less steep stuff.

• Man, this wind is intense! Makes no sense to run in it. Physics and energy conservation baby!
• "Hey Linda, this wind is just stupid! It's funny!" Let's hike, laugh, dive through the wind and enjoy the ridiculousness of it all.
• Wow, people are running and passing me in this wind. Maybe I should be running? No, be patient. You know what is best. Have discipline to do what you know is best. Yes, this race is about discipline. The work leading up to it and having a smart strategy when you are in it.
• More laughter and smiles. The crew cars all have their windows up and hardly anyone is out of their cars.

The top of the pass, a wide pull out in the road

• So many people sleeping and resting on cots and on the ground. I thought this was were it was supposed to get fun?
• Down hill, let's go! But, be disciplined. Is this too hard? Yes, slow down; no, just flow!

The lights of Panamint Springs

• YEE HAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWW! I'm at Badwater 2012 checking in at Panamint Springs! Oh yeah!
• Now, I am really sleepy. Why am I so sleepy. Body feels good (slight swelling of hands, headache is gone after caffeine consumption, some queasiness) but I am just sleepy. My eyes don't want to stay open. Seriously? I want to have fun! To have energy! And to have a nap! You can't have it all! No nap for you!

Panamint Springs to Darwin (mile 72 to mile 90):

• Kris says "Take this" I say "Ok".
• The only thing I remember thinking here for sure (other than being frustrated at being sleepy, realizing it is my latte Perpetum elixir that is making me feel queasy and that I need a 5 hour energy) is: OMG!!! That is the Darwin Check Point! I'm right here right now at Badwater! I'm running this race! This is so freakin' awesome!! I think I might have done a little dance here too. I was pretty excited.
• Linda keeps asking "What do you need?". I don't know!! You tell me! You guys tell me what to do and I do it. I tell you how my body is performing and we adjust.
• Sean isn't getting out of the car. He must be tired from his Seattle to Portland bike ride he did. I worry about him and watch what he does.

Darwin to Lone Pine (mile 90 to mile 122):

 Mt. Whitney came into view

Mt. Whitney! with Cyndie

• That's where I am going. That is my finish line. That is where I get my belt buckle. That is where I get to be the person, get to be on a team that has worked together to get to the finish. After years of watching others have it, now I get it. This is my year! Right here right now!
• At this point I just kept my eye on that mountain and I just kept reeling it in. That it was so many miles off didn't even phase me. I could actually finally see it. After so many years I could see it and it was so close. It had never been closer.

Long stretches into Lone Pine


I'm on the road to Lone Pine, with Kris

• Run from that pole to that car up there.
• Run from that car to that bush. Ah, heck, go up to that next bush.
• Stay cool. Keep eating. Keep doing what the crew tells you to do. They say eat, I say ok. They say take this I say ok. Well, mostly. Sometimes I say "no" and so they offer me something else, which I take because I have to.
• Run up to the crew car.
• Run to that little hill.
• Run to the turn into Lone Pine.
• OMG. You are running into Lone Pine. Right here right now. Run into Lone Pine. All the way. No walking, this is it. The last stretch to that 13 mile finish line.

At the Dow Villa

Where's my f'in soup?!

• Cyndie is leading me one way. Nick is quietly telling me to do something. What am I supposed to do? I just want to head up the road! That is the finish line!
• I'm sitting. I guess someone has food for me to eat? Where's my f*^&in soup? If there is no food then I want to get going up the road! I don't want to sit here doing nothing. I want to finish! It's right there!
• Spicy chicken sandwich hurts my mouth. Sweet tea from McD's (aka crack tea b/c it is so addictive) tastes good. Takin' the tea up the road!

Lone Pine to Finish (mile 122 to mile 135):

With John, just staring the portal road
(pic fromYolanda Holder)

In retrospect, this 13 mile segment was just one finish line. I knew I had to keep tending to the machine by eating and drinking but that entire trip was just a 13 mile celebration. I could not go fast enough. In fact, sometimes my pacers were slower than me and I felt like I needed to slow down for them.

With Kris, Going Up and Smiling! (pic from Ben Jones)

 It's all good! I'm right here right now and my buckle is just right up there! Come on guys! Let's go get it!

Going up there! Let's Go!

And we did. And we were High Voltage right up to the end.

Dancing on the Portal Road

Linda said to me that the race was so smooth that it seemed like a formality; like I already knew I would get there but I had to go through the motions to prove it. I agree. Mostly because I never once doubted that we would finish. What I didn't know was that the race would be so ideal, so much fun or so empowering. I was hoping it would be.

Other people talk and write about wanting to have a transcendent experience at Badwater, wanting to experience that life-changing event. I think for me I got that out of the training, the sacrifices and the attempts to balance regular life while trying to achieve such a world class dream. The Badwater Ultramarathon was the celebration of getting there and getting there prepared and ready to run. I could not have asked for a better experience or a better crew. Thank you so much John, Kris, Cyndie, Sean, Linda and Nick! You were all completely priceless!

I was at The Badwater Ultramarathon 2012, and I ran it, and I smiled through most of it, and I finished it!

Right here right now!!

just 3 things

Badwater is coming up. I'm afraid to count the days. I feel like a kid at Christmas. Mom used to put a candy ribbon up for us kids as a countdown to Christmas eve. Eating that candy every night made the build up to Christmas that much more exciting. I think the candy tasted sweeter too. Only now, with Badwater, I have a to-do list a mile long and it isn't sweetness I taste but anxiety I feel. But every time I cross something off that list...I do feel like that kid again. That is sweet.

The way I see it, I have just three things left to do before the big day: maintain fitness, get heat acclimated and do logistical stuff (shopping, packing, final crew organization, getting the house ready).

This would be a passive heat training temperature. Just sit and sweat baby!

Last time I wrote about life getting in the way of training. Well, things finally clicked and I got 2 solid weeks of decent workouts making a solid 5 week cycle of running:

• week 1: Pigtails Challenge 1/2 (100 miles)
• week 2 & 3: recovery
• week 4: 100 miles (!!! 1st time ever !!!)
• week 5: 70 miles

That left me 3 weeks to recover, taper and maintain.  I was elated that my running finally came together and I could hit some volume that I had so been wanting to do. Also, during this time I began fake tanning and doing some gentle (but active) heat training. Life was consumed by running. My 11 year old daughter took it all in stride. She is so supportive and patient.

But, it can't ever be that simple. During week 4 my mom discovered a lump in her breast. She is already a breast cancer survivor and she has chronic lymphocytic leukemia. Running took on a new meaning as I processed what this could mean for my small family. She got a positive (or would it be negative?) diagnosis. We have another battle to fight, another challenge to face.

Family love!

I don't know how to say what this means to me. I get my strength in running from my mom. She is the strongest and bravest person I know and running, while it brings me joy, is also a way I can honor my mom and all she has done for me. I try to be my best for her.

Needless to say, my stress quotient is very high. My running is blech. Heat training is going pretty good. I'm getting things crossed off that to-do list with the massive help of friends like John and Linda and an incredible amount of understanding from my daughter. Getting ready for an event like this with a family "crisis" going on has really brought out the best in my friends and daughter. Elena might be "just 11" but she is more mature than most 30 year olds. I would like to think she gets that from me...but who are we kidding?

I did manage to use the warmer temperatures of eastern Washington to get in some active heat training. I layered up and walked/ran for an hour a couple of times in temperatures in the low 80's (20 degrees warmer than western Washington!). I discovered my feet are VERY good at sweating. My socks and shoes got completely soaked (so much so that I left partial wet footprints behind me). In an attempt to balance running and single-momness I took Elena to the aquatic center so she could swim while I layered up and walked the perimeter for an hour. I took a few breaks to visit with Elena and watch her go down the slide. And she wasn't even embarrassed by this! No one at the water park asked me what I was doing but I did get tons of strange looks and people that quickly looked away, not wanting to make eye contact.


Heat training and swimming at the aquatic center

I have to get back those 3 things. Keeping a balance in life, uncovering the strength my mom has bestowed upon me and being so excited about my life I can hardly contain it!

I can't wait!

I am living this dream in support of the Leukemia Lymphoma Society. Please support this great organization, my mom and my run by making a small donation. I get a lot of strength from those of you that do and have. Thanks! 

Leukemia Lymphoma Society Fund Raiser Page

are you experienced?

Training for Badwater 2012 is going O.K. I'm not injured. I'm not sick of running. But, I'm just not running the amount of mileage I would like to be. Every time I make BIG plans, something, like life, gets in the way. I'm not complaining, I am glad I have a life, a daughter, a job. I just wish I could be independently wealthy and that all of my wonderful friends were too so I could run more and they could help me out with Elena...you know, it takes a village! Anyway...

I opted to run the Pigtail's Challenge 1/2 (that is 100 miles) on Memorial Day weekend as my final big run for Badwater. The problem was I didn't know how to approach it. My options were to run it easy and put in designated walking breaks (to practice walking for Badwater) or to just run it and go by feel. I really couldn't make up my mind and just decided what to do once I got running.

Ultimately, it turned into a run. I wasn't running hard, I walked when I needed. I visited with people (runners and regular citizens). I met a really neat horse (oh, his owner was nice too). I wrote songs (Sorry, Allen) and sang them. I gagged on a cracker and almost choked to death! You know, fun ultra stuff!

The course consisted of a 6 miles worth of out and back, followed by 10 loops of 9.4 miles each. There was the main aid station at each loop end and another basic aid station about 1/2 way around. The course was mostly a gravel surface, nice to run on really, with a few rollers, but nothing too extreme. For the really awesome people, totally runnable. For the rest of us, the hills were good enough to walk without guilt! And we did! The loops were run washing machine style (reversing direction each time) so you really got to see everyone who was out there, including the people who were already many many miles into their 150 and 200 mile adventures. Amazing.

The problem was I was feeling TOO good. How can that be a problem? Well, the sun was out, the run was going great and so I ran and ran. Oh, and ran. This was supposed to be a training run. And then I realized (thank you loops!) that I was running as 1st woman and wouldn't that be cool to win and get a free pair of shoes!? But I'm not racing. I'm training. This run needed to be easy so I could recover quickly and get back out there training for Badwater. It's all about Badwater.

So while I didn't really TRY to win (I walked with a lot of different people and got to visit with them) it did feel neat to be running in first and to be feeling sooo good!  And watching other people's races and runs unfold was inspiring. I sort of new who was running their first hundred, who was going for the 150 and the 200 and it made me feel like an ultra-running virgin seeing and being a part of their experiences.

I had no crew or pacer for this run and the volunteers were super awesome helping to take care of me. I had a plan that was pretty straightforward and I can be (can be, not that I am) pretty low maintenance so I wasn't too worried about not having the personal support. I would come in, put Perpetum in my bottle, a volunteer would squeeze a gel in it, and voila! Good to go! But then, just as I get done writing, singing and sharing my blues song about not having a pacer or crew (and about some things Allen was doing...), Kris Ryding, a super awesome friend, runner and TEAM HIGH VOLTAGE crew member, shows up! Surprise! She ran two loops with me, sometime in the late afternoon, and then got some gear from the car for me before she left. It was such a gift to have her there!

A big purpose of this run was to again test some nutritional strategies for Badwater. I learned at Arrowhead that I need more sugar than Perpetum so tried adding a gel to a 1 hour bottle of it at the Pac Rim 24 hour race and found it worked well. I wanted to try this again at the Pigtail's Challenge 1/2. So, my plan was to leave the main aid station with the elixir mix as a one hour bottle, finish it by the other aid station, get some water there and some snacks, finish the loop, re-fill with elixir and eat some solid food, repeat.

Do you see anything wrong with this plan? There is something, really really not right. I'll wait while you try and figure it out...

Think you got it?

I had no plan for any real calories (aka ENERGY) for the 2nd 1/2 of each loop! The problem with that is when I make a plan, I'm pretty good at following it! On one loop I was feeling a bit poopy so I had a gu but otherwise I took in NO calories for the 2nd 1/2 of each loop. Can you say "rooky mistake"? Actually, I think a rooky would be too smart to do something like this.

Amazingly, I ran pretty consistent loops until loop 9. That is when it all caught up to me. Unfortunately, Jess Mullen decided to run a loop with me for that loop. It turned into a death march (I'm still sorry, Jess). The loop started great (talking about Badwater, how we got into running ultras and ultimately caught the Badwater bug) and I really enjoyed the running and visiting. But sometime after the aid station I became nauseous, dizzy and icky. Jess tried to make me eat (she knew right away what my problem was) but I wasn't super cooperative. Finally, realizing she was so RIGHT and I had made a huge mistake, I agreed to eat IF I could lay down. On the trail. With my feet up on that post. Oh yeah. But I did get 100 calories in!

Then, shortly into the final loop (after spending some time eating at the aid station), the 2nd place woman passed me looking very very strong. I already knew I wasn't going to race. This wasn't about racing, it was about training (and I had decided that earlier in the day; my one compromise for not doing any walking training).  But I also wasn't going to let her just pass me that easily! Nope, I had enough juice in me to keep running up the hills (which felt really good) and pass her back. And that is how it went for awhile. But then, the drama never ends! I was too cheap to change the batteries in my head lamp before the start (they seemed good...) and my lamp started flickering! So I had to turn it off to save juice where I knew the trail was pretty smooth. I hoped Kimberly wasn't thinking I was trying to hide from her!

I reached the aid station (sans light), had some gel (trying to make Jess proud!) and got some batteries from a volunteer. Kimberly went right through and I stayed and visited a bit with Kristen (who ran a great first 100 miler, even if she didn't look too spunky at this point in the night~nobody did) so that Kimberly and her pacer would be out of sight and out of mind.

They were and I did a lot of walking at that point. My energy was a bit low (although I was guing!) from my previous mistake so I just enjoyed the night.

And for the first time ever in a 100 I beat the sun to the finish line! I ran it in 22:10, a new PR and 2nd place woman! And I learned. I learned that sometimes I have stupid plans, always I have great friends, and ultra runners are the kind of people I like to be around.

SPLITS: Somewhere I wrote them down and now can't find them but they were pretty consistent in just over 2 hours for each loop. Except loop 9 was around 3.5 hours and loop 10 was around closer to 2.5 hours. So now, I want to try for a 20 hour 100 miler! My 100k time was just over 12 hours which is pretty good for me.

RECOVERY: My recovery from this was different from any other I have experienced. I ended up with some pretty bad chest pain for about 4 days. It hurt to breathe, to lay on my side, etc. Also, my heart would race, thump and about fall out of the bottom of chest. My massage therapist suggested that my cortisol levels were high b/c of A) all the running and B) the lack of calories (and she supports my running as she used to run ultras). She suggested I needed more protein and fat so to try whey protein supplement. I did and it worked! Well, that and time. But the need for additional protein after a big effort like this makes sense, and I don't think I typically get much protein.

So after that I decided NOT to enter any more races before Badwater. You pin a number on me and while I may not be a top contender, I get racing in my mind and I run harder than I do just training. Big Surprise there, eh?

I spent two weeks recovering (the first week not running, just healing) and the second week I slowly got back into it (I did do hill repeats). This weekend I'm running big, on my own, mostly on roads. Next week will be the final BIG week for me and I will probably have to get most of my mid week runs done on the treadmill. No biggie, I'll just watch T.V.!

Then to taper, which I don't really know how to do so maybe I better research that? Hmmm, and make a plan!

Just doing some maintenance.

24 hours to go. Once you start, you can finish.

Well, maybe not quite that simply. I guess it depends on your goals and objectives. My objective for this run was to move for 24 hours and in the processes hopefully meet my 3 goals:

1. To place higher than I placed last year (which was 4th place)
2. To cover more miles than last year (which was 93 miles)
3. To cover over 100 miles
4. To fine tune and nail down some nutritional strategies (this is always a work in progress) especially some way to stay positive during the doldrum hours of 4 a.m. to 8 a.m.

This then could maybe lead to my own personal redemption after my incomplete Arrowhead adventure.

The Pacific Rim 24 Hour Run in Longview, Washington is a really neat event. The volunteers are super, the race director is a hoot and the other runners are as inspiring as any ultra endurance athlete can be. I knew this much going in after doing this race last year (I was 39 at the start of the race and turned 40 during the run...I got to run into my 40's!). I looked forward to doing this event again with a clear set of goals and an achievable objective.

Awesom Volunteers & RD (Pic from Tim Englund)

This year the weather forecast was wet and cold (thank you, La Nina). I don't like wet and cold is even worse. I packed about every piece of running gear imaginable from the cold weather section of my closet (yes I even got into my Arrowhead supplies, fearing the worst).

And then, we got to the starting line and I went out like a streak of lightening and didn't eat...


Smart Start (Picture from Sarah Duncan)

No wait, that isn't what I did. I took it "easy", I paced myself, I visited with some runners (Eb, Seth...) that I hadn't seen in a long time. I walked a little. Mostly I ran. Then my feet started hurting. I mean HURTING. Seriously, we weren't even 5 hours into this thing and the bottoms of my feet were crying for some serious drugs. My left hip starting hurting. My right butt got in the act and felt quirky too. Really? 24 hours of this? I mean I know I am not built to be a runner but after only 5 hours??? At least the sun was shining (sort of...). I stretched ("Just doing some maintenance"), I rubbed my feet (WOW! That felt good), I kept moving. I changed my shoes and my feet felt better at least. The stretching helped.


Early on, Pain starting (from Sarah Duncan)

From Sarah Duncan

I think the sun set but who knows. 1 mile loops never really get boring because each loop looks different (different dogs, different walkers, different crows) and I have a simple mind that is easily entertained. I decided that at midnight (or 15 hours) I would take some ibuprofen and rub my feet. I was looking forward to midnight!

Crow Friend (from Sarah Duncan)

After my foot rubbing-ibuprofen stop, John went to bed and I continued to run in circles. After about a loop and a half the ibuprofen kicked in and I learned something: When I don't hurt I can actually run! I don't know exactly how fast I was going but I felt like I was flying! I was passing people that had been passing me, I was feeling good and going for my goals. I put my music on and just ran. At  around 3 a.m. I realized I was feeling negative because I wasn't telling people "Good job" when I saw them nor was I thanking the volunteers. For the first time ever I used a 5 Hour Energy and WOW! I won't say it gave me more energy but my mood improved noticeably. It may have helped my energy as usually from about 4 a.m. to well after sunrise I usually feel really tired and sort of let down. That never happened at Pac Rim this year.

Have you ever had one of those runs or moments or experiences when you feel STRONG and INVINCIBLE and almost like a MACHINE? The last 7 or so hours of Pac Rim were like that for me. I don't know how fast I was running, but I felt FAST, I felt STRONG, I felt UNSTOPPABLE. I wish I could bottle that feeling up and drink it whenever I wanted. I get all tingly just thinking about it now.

On my final running loops around that 1 mile "track" I was thinking about the distance kids I have coached in track and how they can fly down the back side of the track on the last lap. Then I began to channel Steve Prefontaine and visualized myself racing down the backside of the track. I wonder what I really looked like? In my minds eye I was smooth and graceful. HA!

Channeling better runners than myself
(from John Pearch)

In the end I achieved my objectives and I met all of my goals. Mentally I was on it and I really believe it was because I had those very measurable goals at the front of my brain at all times. Physically I paced myself, I pushed myself when I was able and I managed my food and water spot on. It was a great 24 hours.

Done running 100. Me eating, John messing with his phone.
(From Tim Englund)

What did I do right?

1. The forecast was cold and wet. I started in tights and stayed in tights. Can't say that I ever really got too cold as I constantly adjusted my layers as needed and changed only once after I did get rained on pretty good.
2. I think I got my energy figured out! I drank Perpetum from the beginning (mixed as a 1 hour bottle) with one gel pack mixed in. I snacked at the aid table. I took a gel whenever I got "behind" on my one hour bottle. This really worked! I will try it in the heat and hopefully I have something for Badwater!
3. I had the tunes to run to. I noticed my pacing was in line with whatever song was playing.
4. I ended up using two 5 Hour Energy bottles (4 hours apart). They certainly made me feel more positive during the doldrum hours.
5. I kept my goals and objectives at the forefront of my mind. I set little goals based on the clock as I went (like trying to get in 3 more loops before the next hour ticked onto the clock).
6. I rubbed my feet 3 times. Totally worth the time it took as I have really messed up feet with arthritis in my right foot.
7. Ibuprofen is my really really really good friend. So is caffeine. Better running through chemistry!
8. Constantly monitored and fixed any mental and physical problems as they came up, before they got to big too big handle.

What did I do wrong?  Well, not much really....

1. I took bad shoes. I mean, I didn't know they were bad, but they were. I should have changed them sooner.
2. I didn't keep track of my laps and I think one might have been missed in the afternoon. Oh well.

Objectives complete, goals achieved.


100 MILES! (Pic from John Pearch)

2nd Place and 103 miles (Pic from Tim Englund)

it was only Arrowhead

First: I was out there for only 25.5 hours and I only covered just a bit over 70 miles. Not that much really. Well. Maybe. (Sometimes, when I put it into the "ultra runner" perspective it doesn't seem like much. Then I put it into that "other" perspective and it seems like a lot.)



Feet up the wall in the Duluth airport, on our way home

But this was the Arrowhead 135 after all, requiring me to pull a minimum amount of gear in a sled through the snow in northern Minnesota. No small feat to get there prepared, to attempt or to finish as I found out.


Not sure what kind of "Caution" you can haul, but they do on the Arrowhead Trail in MN

John Pearch and Dave Sieberlich, super support!

Sometimes it is easier to start with the end, which for me began 14 miles from Melgeorge's (the 2nd check point). Sometime in the dark of night, trudging through the snow very slowly and very painfully I came upon a fire and 3 welcoming volunteers. I stopped to fill my Camelbak and mix more Perpetum and just enjoy the warmth of the fire and the place I was at (although it wasn't that cold, maybe 15 degrees or so).

As I prepared to leave I asked "How far to Melgeorge's?"

"14 miles, with lots of hills. And don't forget when you get to the lake, you still have about 2 miles to go." I knew I could trust these guys' telling of distance as they had snowmobiles and were used to this trail.


This was the beginning of the two mile lake crossing

And, normally, it would be only 14 miles. But I knew at the pace I was going I could count on another 7 hours. Maybe more, maybe less but I would be out there for some time.

That was the beginning of the end. The next 14 miles felt like a death march. For the first time ever in a long run I was falling asleep as I walked, staggering around on the trail. For the first time ever in a long run I had very clear hallucinations in the daylight (a totem pole, some mailboxes, a power pole, a tree with some very cool faces carved in it). For the first time ever in a long run I was not having fun. And I don't mean the "Party! Everything is good fun!". Because just running, pushing myself and attempting to reach a goal is fun. I was moving so slowly and with such pain that there was no fun being had by me. I know, I know, enough with the pity party. But that is what this run had become.

I tried every trick I could think of to turn my thinking around. I thought of my mom and Sean, whose strength at fighting cancer (two times EACH) has helped me through some of my toughest runs. I listened to music. I thought of the people that donated to the Leukemia Lymphoma Society in support of this run. I sang. I pictured Elena, my source of hope. I ran. I thought of the people back home cheering me on, watching my progress on Spot. I walked. I tried to cry. I yelled at myself for being such a wimp. I laughed at the little mice that ran across the snow in front of me and got confused in my head lamp. I thought about John and Dave who were both putting out a lot of time and effort to be there with me. I thought of the finish, the trophy, Badwater.


John, Dave, me with starting line smiles

But nothing stuck.


At Melgeorge's, finally across the lake

As I pushed the final, never ending two miles across the lake I was painfully aware that I had a decision to make. But first, to check in, eat, take some ibuprofen and sleep.

As John woke me up around 11 a.m. and gently tried to get me to start moving, I had to tell him I was sure I was done. He did his best to talk me into going on but I knew I was done. Ultimately I was moving too slowly (1.5 to 2 miles per hour) and too painfully and I didn't believe I could make it another 65 miles (or through the rest of the day until the sun set, through the night to the following sunrise, through that next day including lunch time to the sun setting yet again before I made it to the finish). It was too much to wrap my brain around or push my body through. I honestly felt I was risking injury at that point and I did not want to risk being out of running for a month or more when I have bigger goals to attempt.

I was and am disappointed I didn't get to the finish but I still honestly believe I did the best I could at Arrowhead 135 given the conditions and how prepared I was.

So, what was the source of what went wrong?

1. It got too warm. It was about 9 degrees at the start and the snow surface was easy to run on top of and my sled pulled very well. Almost like pulling on butter. At some point it warmed up to around 22 degrees and never cooled off to single digits. This changed the texture of the snow to being very similar to dry sand. Like at the ocean dry sand. Very hard to run in and hard to pull a sled in. The lack of a solid surface to land on caused my feet, ankles, shins, calves, hammies, glutes...(everything!) to torque and twist. Motion became very painful.
2. I underestimated the effort of what I would be doing. I knew it would be a lot but I didn't realize how much. Running 72 miles without resting is not a big deal, usually. Running for over 24 hours without resting is not a big deal, usually. But on the Arrowhead I was exerting so much more and moving so slowly that it was mentally very tough. I think I also didn't snack enough for the effort.

The first part of the race was really uneventful. The snow was great, I made great time into the first check point getting in just over 10 hours after the start. The hills started after that but they weren't so bad because I'm from Washington state and they gave me a reason to go slowly. I met some really great folks but for the most part I was alone which wasn't a big deal. John and Dave were there so I got to see them at a road crossing and at the two check points which was super nice. I listened to some music which helped with the boredom of seeing just the white trail in front of me. The 100 lumen headlamp they talked me into buying at REI was super awesome! Another runner commented that she kept thinking I was a snowmobile because my light was so bright.

Really, I don't think I could have done much differently with the knowledge and understanding I had of the race. However, there are a couple of things I would do differently now that I have been there:

1. Pull the sled and tire MORE in training. And walk more in training. How much is more? Doesn't matter, just MORE. I don't think you can do it enough unless you do it so much you hurt yourself.
2. Practice with and use poles during the event. I think this would have helped save my legs. I don't think I could have or would have trained on sand had I been able to predict the snow would turn into sand BUT poles might have helped with muscular endurance.
3. Bring more gels and use them. I was prepared for uber-cold (the usual -20 degrees or colder) so I didn't pack many gels thinking they would freeze. With the forecast as mild as it was I should have packed more gels to supplement the Perpetum drink. I also needed one more way to store snacks, like trail mix, on my body. I think I would have snacked on that pretty consistently.
4. Put screws in my shoes instead of using "yak-trax". Yak-trax hurt the bottom of my feet to run on. I should have known this as I ran a marathon in the snow last spring and had that same problem. Plus, with the warm snow I just took them off and I don't think it hurt me that much to not have extra traction.
5. I would NOT wear gore-tex shoes. It is so dry over there that I think wearing a more breathable shoe would be better to help keep the sweat evaporating. I have run 100 miles with wet feet before and got no blisters. I got two moisture blisters during Arrowhead. Now, this might be different if it was uber-cold. BUT the locals wear a heavy canvas as their outer layer jacket. I think breathable is generally more important there in the dry on northern MN.

What I did that worked? A lot actually!

Getting ready with some pretty solid gear choices!

1. I had a plan and I stuck to it! It seemed to me that from the blogs I read, many who did not finish in years past did not stick to their well thought out pre-race plans. I was flexible but I knew what I needed to do and I did it. (I took advantage of the first part of the course, I drank Perpetum every 15 minutes, I took care of my needs at the check points and whenever they came up.)
2. I wore trail running shoes with two layers of socks. Drymax winter socks right next to my feet. For the conditions we had, this was enough.
3. Heavy tights on my legs. That's it.
4. On the top, a Smartwool long sleeve top, a short sleeve biking jersey (with back pockets to hold snacks and keep them from freezing), a 4L Camelbak with Perpetum drink (which I drank from every 15 minutes), old socks with the feet cut off for arm warmers, a fleece jacket with pit zips and pockets. I never took took off any of these layers to cool off. The zippers were enough that I could adjust my temperature as needed.
5. I put the Camelbak hose down my sleeve and the mouth piece came out by my hand. Had it been uber-cold this would have saved me I'm sure (in addition to draining the tube every time I drank from it).
6. I wore a light weight beanie on my head the entire time (which really surprised me. I thought I would take it off for sure).
7. At some point during the night I did add another shirt on my top and a warmer hat. I got cold because I was moving so slowly and I think maybe not eating enough. 
8. Gloves with eventually hand warmers and then mittens on top of that when I got cold in the night.

I'm super happy that I did this event. Even happier that I raised some money for The Leukemia Lymphoma Society. This was by far the hardest thing I have yet attempted and, yes, I hope to try it again or another cold/snowy ultra. Arrowhead tested my mind in ways it hasn't yet been pushed.

But next, it is time to try and get into the big dream.

Badwater. Fingers crossed.

Random Videos of Race Thinking:

Some Things Happen for a Reason-Some for a Reminder

I originally posted the following as a "Note" on Facebook on April 15th, 2011 at 11:35 p.m.:

Yesterday afternoon, Elena & I were busy driving around town visiting some local businesses on a county wide "Math Scavenger Hunt" for her school. I really didn't have the time to be doing this as I had so much to get ready for (Lumberjack 100 mile in 2 days, a cross country meeting, housework, etc) but I figured I should be positive about math and it's always good to spend time with my girl.

Elena & I decided to go to a jewelry store, Kluh Jewelers, here in town, mostly because it is fun to look at things that sparkle. A friendly lady helped us then visited with us for a bit. One thing lead to another and it came out that I am a runner. "Do you run marathons?" Helen asked. "Umm, yes" I said as I imagined all sorts of retorts she would have if I told her what I really run. Slowly and cautiously through the conversation it came out that her niece was a runner and ran marathons, but had died just two weeks earlier, the victim of a drunk driver.

Helen shared no other details with me and I didn't ask. She said the loss of her beautiful niece was still raw. I could sense that Helen was sharing only what she wanted to at the time and it wasn't easy for her. I said I was sorry for her loss, we looked at some earrings together, and then Elena & I came home.

Last night I couldn't help but think, as I was fretting about the upcoming Lumberjack 100, how lucky I am to be alive and to be able to run, laugh and tell my family and friends that I love them. Helen's niece can not. I thought about how running makes me feel so alive, so strong even when I am at my weakest or feel like just giving up. I thought about a lot of things, but it is getting late and I have a run tomorrow...

Today I went back to Kluh Jewelers. Helen was not there but I was able to talk to her on the phone. I told her I was running 100 miles this weekend and I wanted to run it especially for her niece who can no longer run, if that would be okay with Helen. Helen said yes, she would be honored to let me carry Angela in my heart. I also asked if I could right this note on Facebook to share Angela's story. Helen said yes to that too.

I want to share Angela's story because she did not have to die. She did not have to stop running. But because someone chose to drink and drive, Angela's race is over. Please, don't drink and drive. And while I don't know that I have many friends who would or do, please don't let your friends drink and drive. Take their keys, drive them home, call them a cab, make them walk if they are an angry drunk. Whatever. But keep the alcohol off the roads. Please.

I have read about Angela from her family and friends on a memorial web-site and I have seen her pictures. She was beautiful. She loved dogs. She was a runner. She was from Yakima (eastern WA). She was 44. We had a lot in common. She loved God, her friends loved her. They will miss her smile, her laughter, her compassion and her desire to live life to the fullest. Her life was rich.
So tomorrow, I will run with Angela (Ang, Angie) in my heart. And I will appreciate life, for it is fragile, but I have it.

Don't drink and drive. Slow down. Put your phone down.

And from Angie's Eulogy:
"Life is love, enjoy it;
Life is mystery, discover it;
Life is suffering, overcome it;
Life is a hymn, sing it;
Life is life, save it.

These are the words of Mother Theresa, taped to the front cover of Angie’s address book. We found it in a file titled: Important Documents."

Sometime During Lumberjack: 

Finish Line Smiles:

Finish Line Feet:

Post run I wrote:

I definitely felt her life with me when I was running. On her memorial web-site her family wrote about "What would Angie do?" as a way to help guide them. I would ask myself that too when I was struggling and while I didn't know her, if she... still had life she would run, so I did too. And when I got "pissy" in my head from the effort, the hurt or the mud, I changed my tune because at least I still get to run and live. Thanks for reading Angie's story.

April 17, 2011 at 6:04pm