(For awhile my posts are going to look weirder than usual. My laptop was “removed” in London, but hope springs eternal (or at least until next week) that it will turn up in Lost and Found. In the meantime, I’m posting on my iPad which is next to impossible for the technically challenged like me.)

Part I

You all knew it was going to rain and hail, didn’t you? As Hubz keeps pointing out, bad weather is a given if I’m entered in a race. Just one more reason I probably won’t get invited back on the team next year.

So, yes it rained for about 80 percent of the race. No, our uniform didn’t involve a “cold weather” option which is why I spent a big portion of the race running around in a big plastic bag. Our only other rain option was a thick raincoat that I was convinced would be way too heavy to run in. Right up until I decided I was teetering on the verge of hypothermia and then it seemed like the best piece of running gear. Ever. Well, except maybe for waterproof gloves. And a hat. And a warm fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate.

The day started with much excitement. Worlds usually doesn’t begin until noon, so we have plenty of time to get geared (and worked) up for the event. By the time we reached the course, I felt like I was about to come out of my skin. The four cappucinos I had probably didn’t help much, either. But this was good excitement and not the dread I had experienced in so many of my recent races. I wanted to run. And I wanted to run far.

I’ve read several race reports that talk about how fast the runners went out. I will just tell you that I was oblivious to this, as I never go out fast and have no idea what anyone at the front is doing. In fact, whenever I am close to the front I panic because I know it means that I am being stupid. No way was I going to be stupid at the World Championships – I had a score to settle after Poland. So I ran steady and efficiently and focused on not falling down (which was a real possibility again because the course was about 50 percent cobblestone/brick).

All was going well, albeit damply, through the first 12 hours. I was hitting my mileage goals. I felt good – relaxed, happy, in control. But as the night wore on, I got wetter and wetter and colder and colder. Then I started puking. At first, this didn’t concern me. I always puke, right? But when I couldn’t seem to stop puking, and it became down-on-all-fours-behind-our-tent kind of puking, I started getting a little worried. What the heck was going on? I tried changing my clothes, but everything in my bag, in all our bags, was wet. There was no real way to get warm except keep moving. And I had to keep stopping to puke. The more I stopped, the slower I went, the colder I got, the slower I went. And on an on. For hours.

Eventually, I had to give up my goal of 135 miles and just focus on staying on the course for the full 24 hours. Sabrina Little, Suzanna Bon and Traci Falbo were tearing up the course for the women, and Jon Olsen, John Dennis and Joe Fejes were killing it for the men. There was no way I was going to miss witnessing their spectacular racing first hand.

I still don’t know what my final mileage was because I don’t really want to know. When you walk for the last 5 hours of a race, your mileage becomes irrelevant and you have to take comfort in the fact that you didn’t quit. Or freeze to death. Or go mad with the absolute mind-numbing inaness of the horrible music you chose for your iPod because you thought you’d be RUNNING and Katy Perry seemed like a good idea but is a HORRIBLE idea when you are death-marching in a hail storm in Holland dressed in a plastic laundry bag!

But the story ends well because the US Women AND Men won GOLD!! I cannot adequately convey the level of talent and flat-out toughness I witnessed. Jon Olsen got Gold and John Dennis, Silver. Sabrina Little set a new American Record with 152+ miles (yes, at age 26!) while leading the Women with a Silver Medal. Suzanna Bon snagged the Bronze and Traci Falbo (in her second 24 Hour race EVER) got fourth. Simply amazing! I was so proud to just be on the same course with my teammates, watching everyone race with all their hearts, doing everything they could to leave it all out there.

And that’s why even when it sucks, and you are convinced nothing will ever be as hard as that, it is all totally worth it.

Happy Running!

(Tomorrow: Traveling Before and After: Why I Shouldn’t Be Let Out of the Country)

So, I leave tomorrow for the Netherlands and I’m so excited!!!  I can’t wait to see Amsterdam – it looks so gorgeous. Finally, all those episodes of House Hunters International that I watch while working out will finally pay off. Score! I’m sure that watching couples shop for “canal homes” is way more helpful than a guide book. (Hubz would now like you to know that THIS is exactly why he never lets me be in charge of vacation planning.)

Yesterday, I rounded out my taper week with an easy 20 miler – my favorite distance because it is an even number with a nice “zero” at the end. And it is always the point in the marathon where you want to quit, so on these training runs, I do. And then I yell, “Take that, you stupid WALL! You’re not the boss of me. I can stop whenever I want. Na na na na!” And then the other runners just look at me with concern adoration because I am a total badass when imaginary, non-existent, metaphorical WALLS are involved. So there.

And now I’m going to BROG (which I just made up to mean “bragging in a blog” – get it? Although frankly, most blogging is sort of bragging, right? So, maybe from now on we should just call it brogging. You can use that.). I’m flying to Amsterdam FIRST CLASS. No, I’ve not become a reality TV star since I’ve moved to LA (Call me, Andy Cohen!). No, I’m flying FIRST CLASS because I’ve had to pay for my kids’ school with my American Airlines credit card (you have to use a credit card to register online and since we are usually in Texas during registration, this is a must) and out-of-state tuition = LOTS and LOTS of airline miles. These miles have just been sitting around, getting a tan and drinking sangria because it’s a big pain to fly American from El Paso. But then, Voila! this trip to the Netherlands came up and now I am going to get slippers, eye shades and all the after dinner mints I want. Thank you Out-Of-State-Tuition!

I will try to keep up with my blog while traveling, but you know how that goes. If you are interested, you can follow Team USA on Twitter @USAultrarunning and Facebook U.S. National 24 Hour Running Team. There is supposed to be a live webcam during the race, so if you see me puking, crying, or whining, please look away. Oh, who am I kidding? We all know all three of those things are going to happen!

Happy Running!

Conversation this morning with my running buddy, Alicia (and she said I could blog about it because she knows y’all already think I’m the crazy one).

Alicia:  How’s the taper going?

Me:  Good. I haven’t killed anyone yet.

Alicia: That is good.

Me:  Although I did fantasize about running a woman off the road after she sped by me and then cut across two lanes of traffic just so she could beat one other car.

Alicia: But you only fantasized about running her off the road, right?

Me: Of course! We weren’t anywhere near a cliff or bridge.

Alicia: Oooooookay… But don’t worry about it, I’ve fantasized about that kind of thing even when I’m not tapering.

Me: Do you ever fantasize about breaking into a cupcake shop at night and licking the frosting off all the cupcakes?

Alicia: No.

Me: Me neither. That would be weird.

Happy Running!

It’s uniform time again. Which, as a woman, gets me very excited. Who doesn’t love getting a big box of cool running clothes and bags?

The only problem? The uniforms are designed for the 20-30 year-old crowd that populates Team USA at the Olympics. Runners who look great in little red briefs and tankinis. But trust me when I say, no good will come of me sporting a tankini for 24 hours at the World Championships.

Aside from simple issues of self-consciousness (and a desire not to have jiggly body parts on display for the whole world), there is the ever-looming problem of chafing that can be the end of a race for a runner in a 24 hour event. What is tolerable for a couple of hours for an Olympic marathoner is not necessarily tolerable when you have to run in that outfit for a whole day. Last year, one of our runners who wore the tankini was openly bleeding under her armpits for the last hours of the race. Any points we gained for having ubercool uniforms were quickly diluted by the sheer agony we knew she was in.

We’re working on finding a suitable alternative (read: cool, covering, and non-chafing) that is still part of the Team Uniform. I’m voting for anything that covers my butt and my belly, and won’t scare the locals, while still conveying the coolness of Team USA. Oh, and doesn’t make my armpits bleed.

I’ll post photos as soon as I get the box. But no photos of the tankini – unless I can photoshop my head on top of Kara Goucher’s body.

Happy Running!

So, it’s official. Mike Morton will not be part of Team USA this year. From his website:

4/26/2013

Thought I would explain why I am running the Keys 100 and not the 24 Hour
Championship in Holland. I know some people are wondering. I would love to
defend my title in the 24 Hour Championship, however with the ups and downs
I am having with my tendon injury, I don’t feel like I will be able to run
hard enough. Also, the expense is way too much if I go there and have to
bail out because my tendon ruptures again.

I ran the Keys 100 before I ran Badwater last year and it helped me alot. I
figure it is a good race to see how my tendon acts. Good training before
Western States. My family and I love running the Keys 100. They
actually wanted me to do it!

I’m sad that Mike won’t be competing – he’s phenomenal to watch and he’s a super nice guy. But I understand the dilemma. Racing internationally is hugely expensive AND it pretty much forces you to focus almost exclusively on that race for a big part of the year. 24 Hour races are incredibly hard on your body – just too much looping and no variation for your muscles to get a break, and it’s all done on asphalt/concrete. The recovery time, physically, mentally and financially, can be long.

I think all of these reasons play into why so few people “specialize” in 24 hour races. After a few, most people decide the “costs” are just too high. Sometimes I think the same thing. But then my OCD kicks in and I come back to that place that prefers very structured, controlled road races, and I sign up for another one.

Crazy over smart wins out in me every time. Like that’s a surprise, huh?

Happy Running!

Me:  I’m injured.

Hubz:  How exactly are you injured?

Me:  My achilles hurts. And my knee.

Hubz:  Are you sure?

Me:  What do you mean, am I sure?

Hubz:  Are you sure they are actually injured? Or do you just think they are injured?

Me:  What kind of question is that? Is this another one of those conversations where you want me to admit I’m crazy before you actually tell me I’m crazy?

Hubz:  No. It’s more of a reality check kind of conversation.

Me:  Which is code for “You are crazy, but I’m afraid of you, so I don’t want to tell you directly and have you go even crazier”.

Hubz:  No, it’s not. It’s just that you know you say this before each and every race, right?

Me: Yes.

Hubz: And you’ve never actually been injured on race day, right?

Me:  Right.

Hubz:  So, isn’t it possible that you aren’t actually injured this time either but just stressed because the race is so close?

Me:  Oh, thanks. Call me crazy AND get me even more freaked out that the race is too close for me to heal.

Hubz: What?! That isn’t what I said at all.

Me: I can put two and two together.

Hubz: Oh my gosh. You know this is just taper stress. You are going to be fine.

Me:  So you’re saying this is sort of like the racing equivalent of “That Time of the Month”?

Hubz:  Ummm…..I gotta go. Uh, I smell something burning.

Me:  Coward.

Happy Running!

So, my planned 8 hour run on Saturday turned into a 5.5 hour run when I got a frantic call from Son 1 that he’d been in an car accident. The phone call you never want to get. Except, in this scenario, at least it was his voice on the other end so I knew he wasn’t seriously hurt.

Long story short, his (my) car was totaled, as well as the other driver’s, but neither sustained any serious injuries, so I am eternally grateful in that 3-hours-later, after-the-adrenaline-has-worn-off, sobby-down-on-your-knees-in-the-bathroom, kind of way. Parenthood is terrifying. And it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

Hubz, of course, went from “He can take the bus to East LA every day from now on until he graduates,” to sending me pictures of good used cars that would be safe, within a matter of hours. I drank a glass of wine, watched 3 episodes of Community, and went to bed at 7:00. It had been a long week.

Sunday, I rested, even though I hadn’t met my 8 hour goal. I have no excuse other than I just didn’t want to run, so I didn’t.

This week is my last high mileage week, ending with a marathon over the weekend. I won’t race it, but want one last, fast-ish long run before my taper. And hopefully that will be enough (although the squirrel in my head says it’s NEVER enough), because as far as I’m concerned, having teenagers should count for an extra 50 miles .

Happy Running!

As I sit in my bed eating Cocoa Puffs after a 10 miler, I once again am resisting the urge to googlestalk healthy recipes out of guilt. There are so many sites and blogs with fantastic healthy recipes that you could spend all day just clicking away – and then all night feeling bad about yourself.  Who needs that?

But it’s Friday. And Friday should be a guilt-free day, right?

Friday is the day for Cocoa Puffs, four cups of coffee, and a double order of cupcakes.

Friday is not the day for Kale salad (yum), beet juice, and tofu stir fry (blech and double blech).

But the Friday Fun can only last until lunch. Because you know what happens on Saturday – the Long Run. And the Long Run requires fuel. And Cocoa Puffs, no matter how scrumptious, will not get you through hours and hours of running.

Frankly, Cocoa Puffs will not get you through hours and hours of anything – except maybe a Dance Moms marathon (not that I would know, or anything).

Tomorrow, I have an 8 hour run on the agenda. 8 hours will quickly degenerate into a slogfest if I don’t make sure I eat solidly today. For me, that means red meat, potatoes, veggies. I find that my long runs go significantly better if I eat a steak the night before. When I’ve skimped – had pizza, or pasta – I’m pretty much a whining blob of goo a few hours in no matter what I ate for breakfast before the run.

So, while it’s still morning, still Fun Friday, I’m going to go make myself some popcorn. And maybe have a Coke. But this afternoon, when Fun Friday is over, I will get serious. But I might still have a cupcake AFTER the steak. It is Friday, you know?

Happy Running!

Me trying to strike a badass trail pose. I fell flat about 45 seconds later.

Every now and then I forget that I’m a runner and try to behave like a badass – or at the very least, a normal person. Mistake. The results of this brief lapse are usually painful or embarrassing – and sometimes, both, and I’m once again reminded of all my weirdnesses that come with being a runner.

- My T-Rex arms can’t lift more than 10 pounds.

- Getting in or out of a cute little sports car results in my hamstrings seizing up and me falling flat onto the sidewalk.

- CrossFit is guaranteed to lead to a trip to the hospital.

- I haven’t been able to touch my toes for 10 years.

- Wearing high heels requires me to take 2 days off from running to let my calves un-knot.

- Every road trip involves me mentally calculating how long it would take me to run the route – and what would be the best time of year to do it.

- The majority of people I know don’t recognize me when my hair is “done” and I am in street clothes.

- I can’t wear sandals unless my toenails (or the nail beds) are painted because I’m always missing a few.

- I’m constantly looking at the color of my pee.

- I have spent way too much time discussing the color of my pee with other people.

What about you? Anything weird you’d care to admit?

Happy Running!

I don’t even know what to say this morning. At this time yesterday, I was so inspired after watching the elites run the Boston Marathon while I trudged along on my treadmill. Then, just a few hours later, I started seeing e-mails on the Ultralist about explosions. What? I couldn’t quite piece together what they were referring to, thinking there must have been some sort of gas explosion.

But only minutes later, I started understanding what was going on – someone had planted bombs at the Finish of the marathon course – the spot that is most congested with spectators. And, at a time in the marathon where it is most crowded with finishers.

And it was intentionally done to cause suffering.

Isn’t life difficult enough without intentionally causing harm to others? Don’t we all wake up every day and try to do right by ourselves and others, to be productive while we can, and to do what we were put on this earth to do? Why does anyone feel that spending his time and energy to hurt or destroy others serves any purpose whatsoever?

I just can’t wrap my head around it.

The act of living  - loving well, living deeply, and trying to put as much as I have into not wasting this life I have been given – takes all the energy I have. I just can’t see how someone believes their life has more meaning by destroying someone else’s.

But maybe that’s the point. Maybe they feel like the only way to have meaning is to steal it from someone else. And I don’t know how we solve that.

But, I do know that I can keep trying to love well, keep trying to live like it is a privilege to be here.

And I can keep running. Because that is a privilege, too.

My thoughts and prayers go out to all the runners, their families, the many injured spectators, the medical teams and law enforcement who responded so quickly and decisively, and all the people of Boston who were impacted by yesterday’s tragedy.