Devon Crosby-Helms

Oakland Marathon Race Report

2013-03-24T14:29:00.002-07:00

At the start line with speedy friends. Caitlin, Penny and I.

Photo by Chris Jones.

When I couldn't run Napa Marathon a few weeks ago due to overwhelming stress with opening our business, I quickly changed my plans to run Chuckanut 50k last weekend and after the race hop in the car and help my sister and her husband with the drive from Seattle to San Francisco (they moved down which makes me so incredibly happy!!!). I also signed up for the Oakland Marathon when I signed up for Chuckanut. The way business has been going, I am never certain which race start line I will be able to show up at. So I wanted a back-up plan, just in case. Chuckanut went really well and I was very satisfied with my run and had a fun little road trip Bin-Yanko style.

My legs didn't feel bad after Chuckanut except for a little niggle in calf/ankle/foot that sent me running to Psoas Massage to see Scott, not once but twice this week. While my legs felt pretty good, my body in general didn't feel right. I had a laundry list of symptoms including massive water retention (like 15lbs) while not peeing. Coupled with all the other symptoms, I made a b-line for my doctors office on Thursday morning to make sure that my kidneys weren't shutting down. My doctor advised that I not run the marathon if we didn't get the bloodwork back. It would be dumb to run a marathon if I was having acute kidney failure. Obviously.

Thankfully, my bloodwork came back the next day and my kidneys were fully functional. The bloodwork did however reveal (especially when compared to my bloodwork from 6 weeks ago) that my symptoms are due to my thyroid swinging from hypothyroid (which I have been medicating for 6 years now & had dropped my TSH too low) to a more hyperthyroid state. This explains why I have been struggling to feel great since the beginning of the year. While my iron levels have improved, giving me more energy, I haven't felt right for nearly 3 months. I have had insomnia, been hyper emotional, intolerant to heat and extraordinarily hungry. I just figured that some of the symptoms (insomnia, anxiety, being emotional) were because opening a business is stressful. But after hearing from my doctor and understanding what hyperthyroid (even a temporary hyperthyroid like mine- my meds just have to be adjusted) means for my body.

After receiving clearance from my doctor, I decided last minute that I would run Oakland Marathon. I figured it would be an awesome way to see Oakland and even better, it would be a chance to hang out with my mom (who just moved to Oakland) and have her see me race! I didn't taper at all for this race. Yesterday on my 11 mile run, I pondered whether or not this might just end up being my slowest marathon ever. I was/am still retaining water weight (which makes you feel kind of gross/heavy), but I decided that I should give Oakland a go. After all, a week after racing a 50k and not tapering really put me in the mindset of "come what may". Given the nature of the course, I figured I could just run it as a workout. I knew it had the potential to be a long ride on the pain train, but I also knew that with no expectations, I might just have a flipping blast. And I did.

Photo credit: San Jose Mercury News

I spent the evening in Oakland at my mom's house and made pre-race dinner for the two of us. The usual: greens, chicken and lots of sweet potatoes. Her new place was perfectly located to roll out of bed after a nice long sleep (9hr!!!) and run less than a mile to the start line. I ate a pre-race banana with sunbutter, lots of coffee and headed out into the perfect morning. It was clear and cool without being cold. I jogged over to the start line where I ran into Caitlin who was also running. I was excited to see her as I hoped it meant I might have a workout partner for the race. I knew from previous years results that the women's winner often ran the entire race alone. Knowing how speedy Caitlin is, I knew that I would have to have a pretty good day to bring home the win. As I warmed up with her and then with my good friend and training partner Liz (who was running as part of a relay), I wasn't sure how I felt. I didn't feel bad, but I wasn't sure how 6:xx pace was going to feel.

I had spent the evening before the race figuring out what 2:45-2:50 pace looked like and I hoped I was going to be able to muster then 6:29 min/mile average it would take to run 2:50. But I really wasn't sure.

I lined up a few rows back with Caitlin and my darling friend Penny (who wins pretty much every trail marathon in the entire bay area). It took me 3+ years to convince Penny to run a marathon, now she crushes dozens a year!

The gun went off and off we went. I went out comfortably, but was also well aware that my pace was ridiculously fast given my goal time. My first miles were 6:01 and 6:00 respectively and I knew that I need to pull back a little. The first half of Oakland Marathon contain pretty much all of the near 1,000 feet of climbing for the whole race and I wanted to be conservative until I was done with the hills at mile 11. The course pretty much goes uphill from mile 3 until mile 11, so it was unrealistic to maintain that pace, but I went with it to get my legs spinning. After two miles, I settled in to closer to 6:20 pace and made my way along. I was feeling good and happy. Just content to be "feeling" it. My body was allowing me to clip along without protest, despite all the demands I have placed on it over the last week.

I really wanted to negative split and have enough for a fast finish style long run, so I did not push too hard on the hills. I went comfortably through the Oakland hills, chatted occasionally with my two bike pacers (as the lead female I had a bike pacer) and tried not to get run over by any cars or miss any turns.

It was a strange thing, everytime we came to an intersect it was a question of whether or not the cops were actually going to stop traffic or if I was going to play a dangerous game of frogger. Thankfully my bike pacers did a good job getting ahead of me and making sure I didn't get creamed. But there were a few times when I literally was weaving through cars. The turns were not well marked as there were often cones in every direction. Again, thankfully my bike escorts showed me the way, but it was awfully strange to have the course be so unclear. In fact, with less a half mile to go we came off Lake Merritt and neither I nor my bike escorts could tell which way I was suppose to go! There were no race marshalls at the turn and I ended up back running traffic, scrambling to figure out which way the course went. Thank goodness we went the right way!

For much of the first half, Caitlin was about 20 seconds behind me. I knew she planned her workout to also be a fast finish long run, so I pressed myself to not let off the pace. Miles 7-11 averaged in the upper 6:40s, but I was feeling really comfortable and looked forward to flying down the hill on the other side. Mile 12 was a nice 400 foot loss of elevation and I picked up the pace dropping a 5:44. I let it out a little but didn't get to crazy as there was a lot of race left. It got my legs spinning again and I was able to drop 4 more miles at sub 6:10 pace.

By mile 20, I was feeling tired, but not anything worrisome. More like tired because I raced a week ago and didn't taper and was at mile 20 kind of tired. I resolved to just continue to maintain my pace and not worry about pushing it too hard. Around mile 21, one of the bike pacers told me my lead had grown to 2:20 over Caitlin. I knew that I couldn't let off the pace or do anything that would cause me to blow up, so I just dug in and maintained.

The last 4 miles seemed to take forever, but eventually I made my way around the Lake and closed in our the final stretch. Fittingly, the race finishes up a hill, so I pushed myself up the final hill and waved my arms to pump up the crowd as the announcer called my name. It was thrilling. I had started the day not even knowing if I would have the strength to finish the race strong and instead, I won. Even more satisfying, I set a new course record in 2:47!!

Photo credit: San Jose Mercury News

I think the most thrilling part of it all is the fact that this is the first time my mom has got to see me win a race. It was awesome to be able to give her a big hug just after the finish and see her so proud!

I am very pleased with how the race went, how I felt and how I handled the ups and downs of this week (heck of this year). It makes me very excited for the races to come this year and to see what I can do!

Chuckanut 50k race report- A battle of will

2013-03-21T20:44:00.001-07:00

Photo by Glenn Tachiyama

It started pouring about halfway to Bellingham. Not just raining, raining so hard I could barely see out the front window of the car as we drove through the early morning pre-dawn darkness. I was not enthused. I was downright ready to turn around and drive back to my sister's house and not run Chuckanut. I felt like a cranky little baby. I didn't want to slog through the pouring rain and mud. I was lacking killer instinct for racing, in fact, I was lacking any inclination to race at all. My mind has just been so many other places recently, under so many other stresses, that it lacked the ability to focus on the idea of racing.

I did in fact make it to the start line. Nathan wouldn't give me the opt out or play into my vacillating. He simply got out of the car and laced up his shoes to race and I followed suit, grumbling the whole way.

I saw lots of familiar and friendly faces at the start and felt more at ease. Unlike road races, the energy at the start is much more casual and laid back. I didn't feel like I needed to be "on" from the word "go". I had time to get warmed up AFTER the gun went off. And off we did go...

I started out on the interurban slowly, pretty far back in the pack considering I know I have the speed to take the race out fast. I was probably 20th female through the first half mile, but gradually moved up in the first few miles, dropping my pace down into the 6:50s. It felt pretty easy and I worked my way up to run with Alicia Shay and Cassie Scallon. I assumed they were running 1-2, but was quickly corrected that last year's runner up Jodee Adams-Moore had taken it out hard. By the first aid station just after mile 6, we were already 3 minutes behind. I thought to myself, "well, guess she'll either set a huge CR or blow up- it's a race for 2nd now!".

Yeah, Glenn Photo!!! Photo by Glenn Tachiyama

I never felt truly in a race mindset. I struggled with my motivation as I went up the first slippery climb, my calves protesting. But after all the debacles, fails and craziness of this year already, I resolved no matter what, just to keep moving forward as quickly as my body would allow.

Once at the top of Cleator, I fell into a nice rhythm on the ridge and loped along, feeling neither good nor bad, just pretty steady. The ridge is particularly choppy and has lots of dicey footing, but I managed it better than I've managed anything technical in a long time, probably since I fell last September and hurt myself badly.

The stretch along the ridge from Aid Station #3 to the Aid Station at the bottom of Chinscraper is a long stretch and I just tried to stay focused on moving forward. I glanced over my shoulder a few times to see if Alicia or Cassie were still right behind me but I didn't see them. I ran with a few guys along the trail and tried to prepare myself for the slog up Chinscraper. By the time I actually arrived, I was perfectly fine with the idea of it sucking, taking forever and being a power hike. I figured I could just push the last 10 miles. I hiked as fast as I could up Chinscraper and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was shorter than I remembered. 5 years earlier, I ran a 4:41 and won but my memory of Chinscraper was that is was about 3 times longer. Glad my memory was incorrect.

Smiling because I know seeing Glenn means I am at the hardest part/near the top

Photo by Glenn Tachiyama

Near the top I glanced down and saw Cassie, she was a few switchbacks below and I knew that I had my work cut out for me in the next 10 miles. Cassie and Alicia are both very speedy runners and while I too am fast, I didn't know if I had the heart and will to really race to the end.

I hit the road and started descending. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Alicia speeding along behind me, Cassie not far behind. I mentioned to the guy I was running with that I was going to have to do battle. He told me just to bide my time and wait for the last tiny hill with 2 miles to go to make my move. I assured him I was not feeling peppy enough to put moves on people, but he laughed me off and told me I'd be just fine.

Alicia fell into step behind me as we descended down the trail. I really liked running down the trail instead of the road the way the course use to go. Much more beautiful and sets you up better for the flat less than scenic final miles.

We were nearing the bottom when I could sense someone wanted to pass me. I thought it was Alicia, so I said, "nice work Alicia" and moved out of the way. It wasn't Alicia it was Cassie and she was blowing by me like I was walking. It seemed the battle was on. I checked my waterbottle and there was enough water seemingly to get me through to the end of the race. I didn't want to spend time at the final aid station nor carry water I wasn't going to drink. I hate carrying hydration.

I blew through the aid station, as did Cassie and Alicia. I am quite adept at running with very little hydration or fuel, so I figured this worked most in my favor. I quickly took back the lead from Cassie and she fell off the pace. The transition from flying down hill to the extra flat is brutal and I took advantage having running very moderately down the hill. Alicia was hot on my heels. We had over 6 miles to race and I needed to figure out how to get my head into the game.

I hadn't felt like racing all day and there I was, in the throws of battle, trying to find a way to get my mind up for it. I have been reading a book called "Your Brain at Work" by David Rock. It is a fascinating book and talks about how the brain functions and how you can optimize your focus and "direct" our own brain through understanding the science of the brain. I was failing to talk myself logically into racing hard, so I decided to use some of the idea in order to release the right chemicals in my brain to put up a fight. And sure enough, I managed to get enough adrenaline and dopamine flowing in my brain to be hungry for a fight. I was focused and I was into it. I was ready to have fun.

At this point Alicia, had made a little move on me. Moving ahead of me quickly, but only gaining about a 20 foot advantage. I knew as soon as she didn't instantly pull away that she was mine. She had hoped to break me, but instead I could see that I was feeling a lot fresher and had more confidence in the remaining distance.

I pulled past Alicia with 4 miles to go but didn't drop the hammer. I was waiting for the little hill with 2 miles to go to do just what me earlier running partner had advised. I stayed comfortable, alert and ready. I checked back at Alicia occasionally around turns and got myself excited for a final 2 mile tempo.

I crossed the road and hit the little hill and made my move. I simply went, without regard for potentially blowing up. I knew I could do it. I knew my body would respond. I dropped the pace and pushed. It was fun. I hit a 6:50 mile, then for my final mile dropped a 6:38. I looked back a few times and soon could not even see Alicia anymore. I didn't relent. I just pushed to the end. It was incredibly satisfying.

I crossed the line in 2nd place in 4:22, nearly 20 minutes faster than when I won in '08. Jodee had obliterated the course record and ran an amazing race. Alicia finished 2 minutes behind me and Cassie 2 minutes behind her. Nathan came in a few minutes after that and we said quick goodbyes and hoped in the car back to Seattle. The reason we'd come to Seattle in the first place was not the race but to help my sister and her husband move to San Francisco! (So excited for them to be here!) Nothing says recovery like an incredibly long road trip.

All in all, the weekend was a blast. I did battle in my mind and found new ways to give myself the will to fight. I got up for the occasion when it mattered and I had fun doing it.

Thanks to Krissy for putting on a fantastic race! Chuckanut is a classic!

Wasn't/Was: a tale of two races

2013-02-04T18:31:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, my friend Ian Sharman sent me a message suggesting I run Carlsbad Marathon on January 27th. There was great elite support and a good prize purse/incentive structure that could make a good training run worth my while. I was in! Since I hadn't raced since Kauai Marathon in early September, I wanted to jump back into racing and use a race as a good training run. I signed up and worked it into my training schedule with my coach.

Finally celebrating our honeymoon!

After a great first week of January, I was feeling confident in my training. I had rocked out a fun adventure run with Larissa and completed that week with 113 incredible miles feeling healthy, strong and fast. The week after that it was off to Mexico for our belated honeymoon.

Mexico was amazing. We surfed and did yoga with WildMex, stand up paddle boarding, mountain biking, horseback riding, hiking, and still managed a daily run. My mileage wasn't great in Mexico as there were not a ton of great places for me to run, but I didn't mind since we were so busy doing all the other activities. I finished each day exhausted. It was awesome to get away after such a hectic 2012.

I felt pretty tired over the duration of our trip and on the last day had a really bad stomach ache. We returned on January 16th, back to work, life and the hecticness of trying to get MHBB off the ground. The fatigue and stomach ache persisted. I didn't have any other symptoms other than excruciating pain after eating, but consulted with my on call doctor brother in law for some answers. Thankfully, after 5 days the pain went away. Unfortunately, the fatigue did not. I ran over 80 miles that week, but just felt dead the whole time. I started to worry that Carlsbad was going to go extremely poorly. Race week came and flew by but I still felt weak and tired.

For some reason, I decided to fly to Carlsbad anyways. I hoped for a late miracle burst of energy or something. I hoped that I could simply train through the tired. I was wrong. I should have listened to my gut. From the moment the gun went off, I just felt dead. I was able to push myself into the low 6 min/mile range but was fighting myself the whole way on the very tough course. At mile 14, I simply stopped. I was digging myself into a hole and I wasn't enjoying myself. I was cooked. I had said that this race was suppose to be a workout, so what would I have done if it were a workout not a race? I would have stopped. It was a bummer, but it was clear to me that something was wrong.

After assessing the weeks leading up to the race, it was quite clear that there were two things going on. First, I likely had come down with something in Mexico and secondly, my iron was low again. I hadn't taken my iron supplement for nearly three weeks and whilst in Mexico didn't eat much iron rich food. When I returned back from Carlsbad, I immediately started back on my Floradix and scheduled an appointment with my doctor.

Coming on the DNF at Carlsbad, I wanted to go back to training but wanted to ensure that I wasn't simply going to pile on more fatigue and exhaustion. I decided to listen to my body and run when and for however long it wanted. By mid-week, it was actually turning into a good training week. On Wednesday, I was at San Francisco Running Company's soft opening to help Brett and Jorge out. The evening was capped off with a fun group run and a great turn out at the store. It was so much fun to see Brett get his doors open! Go check them out in Mill Valley. While there I was catching up with my friend Peter and frequent training partner when we still lived in the City. I knew Peter was going to run the KP half marathon on Sunday and was suddenly struck with an idea: running it with him. I inquired as to his pace/race plans and he said he wasn't sure since he was coming off a cold. I said, "I don't know sounds like a good plan to me, want to run together?" and promptly signed up. Although I was inching my way towards a 100 mile week, I decided that putting myself back into a race might help dissipate some of the bad feeling coming off Carlsbad. I didn't expect to PR or even be able to manage my marathon pace, but I wanted to run a race again before Napa, which is a race I want to do well at.

On Saturday, I went out for the grand opening of San Francisco Running Company and ran with a huge group of folks that showed up for a celebratory 10 mile jaunt with 1700+ feet of ascent in the Headlands. I was feeling better than I had been and hoped that Sunday's race would at least be a slight improvement over the previous week (aka not wanting to just lie down in the middle of the race).

Nathan dropped Peter and I off at 7:15 in the park. We collected our numbers, did a little warm-up, discussed our race "plan" and deposited ourselves near the start, greeting many friends along the way. Our race "plan" amounted to somewhere in the range of 6-6:20 min/mile pace. Or more like, just start running and see how we feel.

The gun went and off we went. As we made our way east out of the park, I felt surprisingly good. I felt like I was super comfortable and cruising. I was also afraid to look at my watch for fear that that feeling was because we were running more like 7:00 min/mile than the low 6's we'd talked about. Thankfully, when I finally plucked up the courage to look, our pace was actually 5:58 for the first mile. Sweet! I felt a smile creep across my face and I knew I was going to have a strong run. I still wanted the race to be a workout paced run, I didn't want to over-reach, so I settled into the slightly sub 6/6 min range.

I don't generally run shorter races such as this, but I have to say, it was a blast. I am hooked! I had an easier time pushing myself and playing with my paces because I knew that the race would be over before I even had a chance to think about it. I was having so much fun.

Going into the turn around just before mile 10, I could see that I was in 8th place. I was pretty close to a few other ladies and so I decided to push the last few miles and go one gear beyond the easy cruise I'd been in. I was just happy to feel like I had another gear, I was just happy to be flying. I powered back down the Great Highway into a strong headwind and caught three ladies in rapid succession. I flew back into the park and crossed the finish line in 1:18:57.

After the race, Nathan, Peter and I did a nice cool-down through the park and I finished out the day with 23 miles. I was tired, but happy. To me, the place/ time were not the important thing, the important thing was feeling like myself in a race situation. What was lost at Carlsbad was found in my own backyard. Needlesstosay, what a difference a week makes.

New Year's Eve Adventure: Point Reyes to the Golden Gate

2013-01-05T08:28:00.001-08:00

2012 was coming to a close. I had had a great first half of the year, packed with races and challenges and working to better myself as a runner. I lost my fall season to an injury but was enjoying a December full of 100+ mile weeks and getting back into the form I lost with my injury. My 2013 schedule was taking shape.

But as the end of the year approached, I knew there was one last thing I wanted to do before the year ended. A few years ago, Suzanna Bon mentioned that you could run 50 miles from Point Reyes to the Golden Gate. Immediately I knew that HAD to try that someday. Early in December, I decided that New Years Eve would be that day.

I pulled out my trusty Tom Harrison maps and started plotting a route that would take me to the bridge. I also enlisted the company of Larissa to join me on the adventure. Adventures are much more fun when shared with great friends. I came up with a route that included some of the best parts of Point Reyes, Mt. Tam and down to the bridge. I wanted to avoid having to do zig zags in the Headlands, so instead I had us run up and over Pine Mountain to the lakes and up to East Peak on Mt. Tam. The route was challenging, beautiful and almost perfectly 50 miles.

Nathan was nice enough to drive Larissa and I out to Bear Valley in Point Reyes for a 7 am start. It was 29 degrees when we hopped out of the car, but was looking to be a perfect day. And it was. The day unfolded into an incredible bluebird day.

I wish there was more to say about the run itself other than I just felt present. I felt great the whole time and was shocked that my body felt so strong considering the run doubled my longest run since June. It was a perfect day and I am so glad I got to share the experience with Larissa. The year felt complete when we arrived at the Golden Gate Bridge. An adventure, a journey to round of the year, inspiration of more fun runs to come. Happy New Year everyone. May the new year be full of adventure!

The journey in pictures:

It doesn't always have to be fun

2012-12-17T16:57:00.001-08:00

Pacing Lizzy Hawker into Tennessee Valley, TNF 50 2012.

Photo courtesy San Francisco Running Company

I have always firmly held a philosophy in my running (and now that I think about it, in life as well): "if it is not fun, I shouldn't be doing it". That is not to say I am suffering averse, avoid challenges or stop when its hard. It just means my primary pursuit has been having fun. I have wanted to foster and protect my love for running. I never wanted running to become like basketball, I never wanted to become a way I defined myself. The pursuit of enjoyment therefore has always been paramount. Make no mistake about it plenty of things to me that are 'fun' are also incredibly hard and challenging. Fun in no way indicates ease. If that were the case, I would probably pursue running 5km instead of 50miles.

This philosophy has worked for me in my running (and in life). The races and goals I was excited and passionate about were fun to pursue. I love the feeling of nerves before a hard track workout, I love trying to find another gear after the last has been exhausted when powering up a long trail. I love the satisfaction of making it to the finish line after doing battle with highs and lows, joys and sorrows, pain and weightlessness.

Lizzy crossing the finishline at TNF 50 after a tough day.

Photo courtesy San Francisco Running Company

Recently, people have been asking us on a nearly constant basis how things are going with the bakery. I have been using the analogy of running 100 miles to describe where we are in the process. In 100 milers, there inevitably comes a point where it just sucks. It's getting dark, you are tired, you've run say 60 or 65 miles and you just really want to quit. Its just not fun any more, you wonder why the hell you started this in the first place. But the thing is, there is no real good reason to quit. So you just keep going.

I have described the process this way numerous times and currently, it does suck. It is hard. I often recently felt consumed by the desire to quit and sit down by the side of the metaphorical trail and not move another inch. I have wonder why the hell we started this in the first place.

In describing the process this way to others however, I had a realization. Yes, the inevitably sucky part comes and it may last and last and last for every freaking mile of that race, but eventually you do reach the finish line. (And obviously, sometimes there is another end to a race vis-a-vi a DNF, but I am not using legitimate reasons for a DNF as part of my metaphor....) But, I realized, It doesn't always have to be fun. Sometimes things worth doing aren't going to be fun, sometimes they are going to be seemingly soul crushing at times. Sometimes they are going to be maddening, defeating and just plain incredibly hard.

I am an emotional creature and I realize that one thing I do as an emotional creature is I am always working through my experiences in my head, trying to find a bright spot, trying to find a foot hold of understanding, trying to digest them in a way that makes for a happier life or personal growth. I search for deeper meaning. But like the 100 mile race, sometimes there are just those lows. Its not because something is wrong, its not because you've err'd in someway, there is nothing more meaningful about it than "it just sucks right now". Sometimes, there is no deeper meaning. I needed to realize that. I needed to find a way to take another step, another step, another step. Realizing it doesn't always have to be fun, means I can shut up, put my head down and just keep going.

Me and Lizzy just after the finish. It wasn't the most fun she's ever had, but she did it.

Photo courtesy San Francisco Running Company

Redefining self

2012-11-23T12:55:00.000-08:00

Married!
Photo credit: John Medinger

I was at the track on Tuesday to take on my first really hard workout since coming back from my injury. The last great (and just plain last) workout I had at the track was in August, so I was feeling pretty intimidated about the 5x1600m at 10k pace with 2 min recovery. I didn't think I could do it, frankly and tried to emotionally prepare myself for it to suck. Nevertheless, I laced up my flats, braved the horrible windy, rainy weather and started running.

The first lap I was thinking "wow, this is great! I love this! I can do this."

Second lap: "I can't imagine doing this 4.5 more times. How am I going to through this?!?!"

Third lap: "Ok, just make it through this one and I can modify the next one, if I have to. Just hold on."

Fourth lap: "Wheeeeeee, I'm almost done. I can do this, I can do this! Look at me fly."

And so went all 5 intervals. I rocked it. I hit my paces even in the face of a harsh headwind. But even still I had to talk myself through each and every lap. Struggle, fear failure, triumph. When it was over, pure satisfaction. I love these kind of workouts because they scare me, challenge me and push me to knew heights. There is always the possibility of failure in them, but success is always within reach if I really push myself.

This year has been one filled with change. Often times, it has felt like a perpetual track workout where everything involved felt challenging, scared me or ran the risk of complete failure. This year's changes, like these track workouts, is something I have chosen to undertake. I have faced these things knowing that it would be hard, I would fail, I would triumph, I would doubt and would rise.

My life, my path and who I am is being redefined through these changes. I got married, moved to a different town and together with my husband, started working on opening our own cafe. My life a year ago had such a different set of priorities, a much lesser sense of complication. Running and training was my highest priority. We lived a simpler life: where shall we go run this weekend, who can join us, what shall we eat after we run? These were the things that fundamentally mattered to us. And the fact of the matter is: they still do. Running, food and friendship remain the driving forces in our life. But now, our priorities are different.

For me the priority shift does mean redefining how I see myself. Going in to the new year, I have no idea how the opening of our cafe will affect my ability to run and race. Running is a huge part of who both Nathan and I are, but so is opening the cafe, we are passionate about the food we are bringing to our community and we are all in on making that be a huge success. Just like getting married, just like moving to a new place, it changes things and I am now working to discover what it all means to me, how I see the world and who I am. I don't have the answers yet as to how these challenges and changes affect my life, my priorities and my sense of self. I know that, no matter what, I am pursuing the things that I am passionate about and going after them with vigor. Who I am and who I become through process are exciting to discover.

Comeback or move forward

2012-10-22T17:13:00.003-07:00

Second run back, marking the Firetrails 50 course

Photo by Brett Rivers

Six weeks ago I was in the best shape of my life. Workouts were going great. I was coming off a good training run at Kauai marathon feeling hungry to go after a PR in the low 2:30s at Chicago. Fit as a fiddle and ready to roll.

I was excited and motivated to keep pushing. But then I fell and then I was injured. A month ago, I was still hoping to be able to run on our wedding day. Instead, I had to watch from the sidelines (and shed some tears) about not being able to join my friends for some wedding weekend running. I had to withdraw from Chicago, cancel my trip and miss out on seeing my sister PR in the windy city on her birthday. The last six weeks have been filled with the best of times (getting married!!!) as well as some very rough times (it is not in fact just me that is injured, Nathan has a stress fracture in his foot).

With an injury like mine, there comes a point when you feel like you are no longer just trying to bridge the healthy running with intense cross training and instead are struggling to hold on to your goals. You come to a point where no matter how hard you workout in the pool or on the bike or on the elliptical, that you just don't feel fit anymore. It took me four weeks to get back to running and naturally, I went out of the gate pretty hard with it. The first week it felt blissful to just be back out on the trails again. I felt nervous and tentative about pushing my foot/ankle too far. But that blissful caution wore off pretty quickly with the reality of my upcoming goals. I am slated to do NYC marathon in less than two weeks. Last week I pushed myself like a crazy person and took risks that I might not have if I was simply focused on my healthy return. I was focused on the comeback, not moving forward.

The funny thing about the idea of a comeback is that it is not very forward thinking. It is a focus on getting back to a place of something, in this case fitness. Moving forward means letting go of where you were and focusing on creating something new; better, strong, faster. Because I have a race rapidly approaching, I have had a comeback mentality which ultimately a very short sighted approach. I could ready myself enough to run NYC in two weeks, but I wonder if it is worth it. I struggled really hard to let go of Chicago and am now faced with making the same choice again. I wonder if I will be fit enough to deserve to stand on the line with the elite women. I wonder if I will get dropped quickly and be bringing up the rear of the elite women's start. I wonder if I will wheezy and lumber myself through an embarrassing performance. I wonder if my ankle will flare up or if it will hold steady. I don't know the answers, but I know that I would make different choices if I had no races on the immediate schedule. It is a complex thing to decide whether to come back or move forward.

I want to make the right decision for my health, for my running, for my racing. Ultimately, I simply love to run and I love that my body has allowed me for so long to push it this way. I want to respect it and take care of it so I can do it for a long time.

Lucky few

2012-09-21T09:23:00.000-07:00

Injuries are part of the reality of running. We put an extraordinary amount of hurt on ourselves through hard training and it is very hard over time to get it right all of the time and stay healthy. A lot of the runners I know have laundry lists of various injuries, niggles and problems that they have faced over the year. Back when I was a basketball player, I seemed to be constantly battling something- three stress fractures then a debilitating back injury that ultimately forced me to quit playing all together. As a runner, one might assume that I would face similar issues and struggles.

But injuries have not been a big part of my reality over the past 7 years since I ran my first marathon. In the past 5 years, since I started ultrarunning, I have only had one injury that was of real concern and I was back on my feet and running in less than 10 days. I am one of the lucky few.

I am in fact injured right now. I have been diagnosed with retrocalcaneal bursitis, possibly triggered by my epic trail crash two weeks ago that landed me in the ER with stitches in my arm. I may have thrown off my left side and gotten everything out of whack. For the past week, I have been unable to run, unable really even to walk without severe pain and a "hiccup in my giddyup" as someone so cleverly put it.

I have not sat back and done nothing to fix this. I have charged at it with a team of doctors, PT and massage therapists to rid myself of this as quickly and permanently possible. Medicine, ice, rest, taping, massage, ART, graston, stim, ultrasound. If I can't run, I will use that time to heal. Yes it is frustrating, yes I have cried and been a crazy person (sanity was not easy to come by while on the steroids my doctor prescribed). I have been killing myself in workouts in the pool (doing pool running) and dripping with sweat in the garage on my bike trainer. I feel like I am doing everything I can to get better.

I am a bit disappointed that I will likely not be able to run worry free on our wedding day in just 9 days. It is becoming decreasingly likely that I will toe the line in Chicago and go after the low 2:30 I was ready for. And still I feel lucky. This is not old hat for me, this is a new situation for me to be in. I have no idea how long this injury will take to clear up and I am still learning how best to handle it, but I am thankful that I have gone this long without anything quite so serious.

I look forward to when I can run pain free again and really understand how vital running healthy is to my entire life. For now, I will do my little pool running laps with my floaty and dream about the day I am free again to run for miles and miles and miles.

And to catch you up on everything else.... pictures from all of the madness from the past month!

Our new rental in San Anslemo!

Fun training run at Crystal Springs 20 miler.

Getting licensed to wed.

MHBB coffee purveyor tastings

Breakfast deliciousness in Hopland for Brett & LP's wedding!

The beautiful bride getting ready!

Awww we are so cute

My sister helping with the move by entertaining us.

Leaving the way it came in.

Weirdo.

Our entire lives in a truck

Run ferry run commute

Golden gate in golden light.

Practicing fancy wedding makeup

Kauai for a marathon, 5 days after moving-ugh!

Kalua pork hash with sweet potatoes.

I could stay here forever

Prerace meal

Round two of sweet potatoes!

2nd place x2. Jorge and I after the race (we both were 2nd)

Winner Brett Ely and I receiving our awards

All things consider. Moving, travel debacle, no energy, no taper-

I am really pleased with 2nd place & a 2:49 on a course with 2,000 feet of ascent!

Post-race rewards

Our new favorite past time- BBQ!

Epic trail crash.

All stitched up. Thanks Healdsburg Hospital!

Sarah's bachelorette party!

Therapeutic shoes for my ankle injury

Nathan's epic trail crash one week after mine.

Getting stitched up in the KP San Rafael ER.

His and Hers suture removal kits!

Challenge of Balance

2012-08-23T20:15:00.000-07:00

Photo by Sherry LaVars

Looking back on this awesome article from a few weeks ago, I kind of chuckle to myself and long to be that busy. What I mean by that, is that day was leisurely and relaxed comparative to the days since.

I knew that the SF Marathon would be the kick off to a very busy time in my life. Not only did it commence another training/racing season, it also was the start of wedding season (for me and many close friends/family), the busiest part of opening our cafe MH Bread and Butter, moving to Marin and still running my own business at the same time. It is a lot to manage and I tried to prepare myself for the big life changes.

Managing the day to day stresses has been a great learning experience. I have found myself to be able to handle a lot more than I ever thought I could and also buckled into a giant heap on the floor (before picking myself up and carrying on, of course) more times than I can count.

Photo by Sherry LaVars

One of the hardest things for me has been redefining myself as a runner. For the better part of the last two years, my running goals have been the primary motivator for how I schedule and navigate my life. While I am not and have never been a professional runner, running was my priority from how I ran my own business to how I structured my days.

Now my days are much more demanding between the cafe and personal cheffing. Our cafe is becoming a reality (thanks in part to all of my awesome friends, family and supporters through our Kickstarter campaign) and the new onslaught of activities surrounding that endeavor get squeezed into every nook and cranny of my day (Nathan and I have had more productive "meetings" on runs than I can count). I am still working full time as a personal chef and have focused intently on maintaining awesome service for my clients, even as I am building another business.

I am still running and training hard. I have an insane racing schedule through the rest of the year which includes a marathon every month (Kauai, Chicago, NYC) until December, when I will be racing the North Face Endurance Challenge 50 miler. I want to do more than just participate in these races, I want to do big things. But the new paradigm of my life also means that I have been forced to redefine what I am capable of.

It is a hard thing to reprioritize. Part of my struggle is that I am still doing the workouts and putting in miles, I am just not able to lead a running lead lifestyle anymore. Having different priorities means gone are the strategically timed meals, the luxurious naps, bi-weekly personal training sessions and weekly massage appointments. My energy is also eroded away (or should I say, otherwise utilized) so often times I am unable to get in a desired second run. My weekly mileage is less than it was, even though I cling to the idea of squeezing in a 100 mile week, somehow.

Photo by Sherry LaVars

All of this has reminded me of what I can and can't do. I can shoulder a lot and have multiple chain saws in the air all at once. I can't drive myself into such exhaustion that I spontaneously fall asleep at my computer at 2 o'clock in the afternoon (not that that ever happened today). I can't expect too much of myself and I can't ignore my limits. I can remember to be kind and supportive of myself. I can remember that falling into pieces doesn't mean I've failed, it means I just needed to release a bit of the stress. It is a challenge to find the balance of all of these things.

I know for many people, I am just preaching to the choir about managing stress and balancing everything we have going on in life. It is a challenge, but I truly believe that I will find a way to fit everything I need to onto my plate. I know I will get through all of the challenges ahead. I know I will not navigate it perfectly. But I also know that everything we are undertaking is so important and worthwhile to us that there is nothing that will stand in our way from achieving our dreams.

The SF Marathon- race report

2012-07-31T13:46:00.003-07:00

photo credit Tony Medina

Heading into Sunday's Wipro San Francisco Marathon, I had no doubt in my mind that I wanted to win. I have run this race twice before and neither time was the my primary objective. The first time I ran it, I paced my sister the whole way through as it was her first marathon. Last year, Nathan and I ran it together and I used it as a training run leading up to WC100k.

Despite really wanting to win, I also was not sure I could. After Comrades, I took the month of June easy and once I started back training in July, I was doing more base building and moderate mileage than peak training. I did one track workout and one tempo workout before SF Marathon, with the later happening Tuesday before the race (you know, since it is such a great idea to run sub 5 min pace before you run a marathon). Needlesstosay, I had no real basis for judging what kind of shape I was in. I felt like I was running well, but had no training indicators to buoy my fitness.

So I did what anyone would do in my postion: go for broke and see what happens.

photo credit SFM

Before the race, I familiarized myself with some of the competition and looked at marathon PR's across the board to carefully consider the capabilities and speed of the field. Knowing SF is a much harder course than most, I knew the times would be slower but wanted to be mentally prepared if I was going to have to go out on PR pace practically. When I got to the starting line, I knew I had the fastest PR in the group by nearly 11 minutes. While I didn't necessarily think I was in PR shape, I knew that I would likely be looked to dictate the pace and lead the field.

photo credit SFM

Anna Bretan (sister of my fellow ninja Jonathan Bretan) is a two time winner of the Oakland marathon. She is tough on a tough course. Before the race she told me that Jonathan told her to keep an eye on me and stay with me. Standing on the start line, I decided on my strategy. If the field was going to look to me to dictate pace, then I was going to take the race out hard and splinter the field early, after which I could settle into the pace (2:45) that I thought it would take to win.

The gun went off and I just went for it. As I started running, I considered if it was a smart strategy. My legs didn't feel warmed up and I knew that taking the race out on 2:37 pace was risky for me as well. I could blow up hard later. I didn't want to be scared though. Part of learning to race marathons for me has been learning how to get in the pain cave and relish it. To hurt and keep pushing. I figured that this race was a perfect opportunity to practice racing and hone my skill.

photo credit SFM

I clicked along at around 6 minute pace and charged towards the Golden Gate bridge with a little pack of ladies and guys tucked in behind me. The first 6 miles only have one real kicker of a hill, so it felt good to get the legs turning over. I wasn't sure how many ladies were with me as we headed up the steep climb to the bridge. I was pretty sure that at least a handful had backed off from my kamikaze of a start. I felt really good though and knew that I was going to have a solid day. I just felt strong. Not necessarily as fast as I've felt, but just felt able to maintain the pace all day long.

photo credit SFM

I run back and forth and back and forth across the bridge for training all the time. I know its curve, I know how hard to push when. By the time I was headed back to the SF side, I knew that my strategy had paid off. A quick glance over my shoulder registered that I was gapping the field and pulling away. I fell in with a group of guys and worked my way towards the park. I rolled with the hills, not throttling back too much on the few challenging up and hit the park feeling good. I was excited to feel so good heading into the park because I knew that the second half was faster and if I was feeling good I might be able to even or negative split. I passed through the halfway point just around 1:22.

To the beach and back is one of my bread and butter runs (speaking of Bread and Butter, have you checked out our Kickstarter campaign yet?!?!), so I locked in and got my legs moving fast as the course slopped downhill. I was running with a guy named Gavin who was doing his first marathon. It was nice to have the company and we caught another duo shortly thereafter, whom I helped coach through a bad patch, reassuring them their race wasn't falling apart because they felt crap. That instead they just each needed to take a gel. I spent a few miles with them and then decided to push on ahead. I got onto the Stow Lake loop that is next to the 1st half finish and was excited to see Nathan, Georgia and Larissa (with the whole Strava crew).

photo credit Tony Medina

I was on my own then. Just pushing along, managing my time and my energy. I apparently had not been running tangents well because my mileage vs. the markers was off, so I just resolved to stay locked in on my 6:11min/mile pace and focus on that. Loping down the Haight the cheers for me changed from "yeah 1st woman" (in the park) to suddenly "you are second woman!". Wait, what? I was confused and told the leader bicycle pacer that people were saying I was second. There are two places on the course where it is possible to get confused and cut off significant mileage. I figured that someone had turned left going into the park and skipped the bottom section of the park (which friends later confirmed). The bike pacer took off after the woman and I decided to turn her into a rabbit instead of being frustrated by the situation. I knew I was winning, but I also wanted my moment. If I am going to win, I want to come tearing into the finish line and break the tape.

I pushed the pace on a few downhills into the mission and turning on to 16th spotted the lost lady. Her pace was significantly slower and I ate up ground and passed her quickly. With less than 5 miles to the finish line, I was starting to smell the barn. I wasn't sure what my gap was on the field, but I knew that if anyone was going to catch me, I was going to make them earn it. I just locked in and went.

photo credit Tony Medina

I never felt bad. I felt like a machine. I did work through the Dogpatch and crossed the bridge to ATT park flying. I looked at my watch and saw that even with the extra .25 miles I had run that I was going to be able to run sub 2:45. I pushed myself towards the finish line. Hitting the mile 26 sign I looked at my watch (marathon split 2:42:44) and pressed forward. The finish line announcer was saying that they had word that I was at ATT park a few minutes out, but I was flying down the finishing straight. The announcer caught sight of me and the crowd started going wild. I soaked it in. This is what I came for, this is what I had earned. I came to represent for my home and I protected my home turf.

photo credit Tony Medina

Victory. I have to say that this is one of the more satisfying wins I've had. It wasn't just about the fact that I won. It was that I ran the race I wanted to, I took risks, I pushed myself. I came to win: mission accomplished.

Photo from SF Gate

Thanks to The San Francisco Marathon for inviting me as an elite (and putting me in bib #2 for motivation!), North Face and all of my other sponsors!

M.H. Bread and Butter

2012-07-24T08:15:00.001-07:00

I am very passionate about running. But I am also passionate about food. Nathan and I are opening up a small cafe in San Anselmo, California (Marin County). We've launched a Kickstarter campaign to help raise funds to make our dream a reality. Please check out the video and consider contributing. There are some really cool incentives involved including a trail run on Mt. Tam with us!

Recess

2012-07-03T18:25:00.000-07:00

Photo Inside Trail Racing

After Comrades I had fully resolved to not train. I had been training and racing so hard for so long that I was ready for a break. I decided that I would take the rest of June to not train specifically, to enjoy my life (and my birthday) and get rejuvenated. I have run when I felt like it, listened when my body asked for extra long naps and slept in on a Sunday morning.

I haven't taken any real break like this in a while. From the time I started to focus on qualifying for the Olympic Trials in late 2010, I have been in near constant pursuit of the next peak of fitness. And although I haven't burnt out or overtrained in that period of time, I still think, in the long term, burning, burning, burning is not a sustainable strategy. I just want to WANT to run for as long as I am able, and sometimes feeding that want means doing less of it or backing off.

I gave myself the month and I have enjoyed it. I have had accidental double days and plenty of zero days too.

Photo Inside Trail Racing

I was not completely satisfied with my race at Comrades. I know my fitness was much better than the day I had and part of me initially after the race wanted to, once again, leverage my fitness for another race. I wanted to prove how fit I was. But I didn't allow myself to pursue another race. I was very resolute before Comrades that I wouldn't simply rush on to the next race and I stuck to it. I am glad I did. There is no race or run or victory or time that can undo my Comrades race. Instead of trying to fill the unsatisfied feeling with something else, I simply let it be. I see that that dissatisfaction is fuel for the fire to come back even stronger and faster. It keeps you hungry. It keeps you pushing your limits. Now that I am starting to train again, I am motivated to reach for new heights.

Always in stride with the Baker

Photo Inside Trail Racing

This past weekend I decided that I would kick off my training as any zaney ultrarunner would do: by running a 50k. The week before Nathan and I had been running on the Flume Trail on my birthday and he said it would be fun to run a 50k together. I thought it would be as well and suggested the Inside Trail Race's Marin Ultra Challenge. I am pretty sure when he suggested it, he didn't mean the following weekend, but I had been pondering the race for quite some time and made a strong pitch.

Heading up Old Springs, mile 30

Photo by Gary Wang

The race itself was low-key and fun. Nathan and I ran with fellow ninja and good friend Peter the whole time and we made quick work of the 33 mile race with nearly 7000 feet of ascent. Going in I thought I would just cruise, but between the three of us, we managed to push the pace for such a stout course. I don't actually think I've ever pushed that hard in a trail race before. It was really fun to run together and play off one another, I would blame Nathan "the Hammer" or Peter "The half-stepper" for the pace but I know I am equally responsible (going up Heather Cut off apparently I got the nickname Devon "Two Switchbacks ahead"). We finished what we started together, even working our way up in to co-4th place (I was first lady from the start) after hammering down Redwood Creek trail in low 7's. Good friends, good fun, good trails, great race.

Photo by Tanford Tahoe

All in all, I am very thankful I took a little break from the constant focus and training. I am ready to train, excited to race again and ready to explore my own limits.

Comrades Marathon Race Report

2012-06-06T05:52:00.000-07:00

Ever since I began running ultras, I have always said that the things I truly love about running ultras is the spectrum of factors that can affect your race, the variation of emotions you can experience and the extreme highs and lows you can weather.

Never have I experienced those things so completely as I did at Comrades marathon. If you asked me how I felt.....

At 30k into the race, I would have described the race as surreal, I was leading the race, joking to the motorcycles that they should find a better way to radio back about me other than "the tall one". It was truly surreal. I was leading the biggest race of my life. I was telling my bicycle escort, this wasn't exactly where I wanted to be right about now, pushing to the front of the pack towards the first hotspot (a Bonitas money mid-race cash prize).

At 45k, I was devastated and debilitated by abdominal cramping.

At 60k, I was on the verge of quitting, tears streaming my face, being convinced by Nedbank handlers, strangers I didn't know to continue. Just to keep going.

At 75k, I refused to quit.

At the the finish, I would have described myself as relieved.

The day after, disappointed.

Today, proud.

There came a point during Comrades where I cursed the race, wondered aloud why the HELL anyone would want to run the damn thing, let alone over and over again. But now I know; it captivates you. And now I feel like if I could only ever do one race ever again (or over & over again) it would be Comrades (preferably paired with Two Oceans) .

Comrades is everything I love about running (except for the lacking trails part), it is intensely challenging, competitive, supported by the entirety of not just the community itself but the nation and absolutely embodies why I even bother to race at all. I did not have the race I was capable of fitness wise. But I didn't quit. I did not have the race I wanted mentally- I struggled to enjoy it. But I realized now, sometimes gritting your teeth and bearing the extreme pain surpasses the experience of simply enjoying every step.

Last night, I fell asleep on the airplane disappointed, frustrated I didn't have the race I know I am fit for and without answers for why I cramped so bad. When I woke, the whole race experience seemed to slip away, like it never happened, with each passing mile I flew away from Durban. Then, in one conversation, my entire experience truly set in.

Although I'd had many conversations about the race from the border patrol agent who recognized me from being on TV to the extra chatty seatmate on my flight from Durban to Joburg, all of those conversations did little but remind me of my own disappointment. This morning was different. The conversation itself was not much different than the others I had had about the race. He'd run the race 4 times before, although not this year. But something triggered inside me.

I realized the true depth of my experience. I realized that I had accomplished something incredible, even if I hadn't had the result I wanted. I was a part of something special. They call it "the ultimate human race" and it truly is the ultimate human experience. After that conversation, I went from disappointed to feeling like the member of an exclusive club.

Those who know what it is like, KNOW. I feel inducted, in the club. I have NEVER been more proud to cross a finish line and that is regardless of position, time or even the struggle to get there. Comrades is truly, incredibly special. There is just no other way to describe it.

I know I usually write complete blow by blow recaps, but I feel, for maybe the first time ever in my short running career, that words can't even begin to capture my experience. I cam to South Africa to run an epic, classic race. I left with an epic experience. I am extremely grateful for the opportunity.

I truly appreciate my sponsors, Nedbank and North Face for making it possible. 5th place in 6:39 in the biggest ultra (and one of the biggest races in the world, period). First novice, first American. It doesn't matter, what matters is entering that stadium to the deafening roar of the crowd held held high, tears on my face and crossing that finish line. It is unlike any other experience I've had before and I will return time and time again.

Check back for photos and videos soon. I am not home from my journey yet!

Commitment

2012-04-27T16:35:00.001-07:00

Earlier this year I wrote about long-term relationships (in running). It had dawned on me then that I had had a short-sighted view of my running career, even if I fully intended to run for the rest of my life. Over the last few months, I have not been great about incorporating a long term mentality into navigating my training. I piled a lot of big challenges on my plate this year, so it is easy to get sucked into a short sighted approach. My default mode has become extreme discipline and intensity, starting back when I decided to train for the Trials. That is a long time to be pushing the envelop. It is not a long-term strategy but I have found a way to physically and mentally endure (hell, enjoy!) this long streak. I thought "this is what it means to be truly committed to something".

This past Saturday, Nathan, Brett and I set out from Muir Beach for a nice long run around Mt. Tam. It was a gorgeous morning, a perfect blue bird morning. The day before I had done a super hard tempo workout before a jam packed day which didn't leave me feeling very recovered. I was worried that the run was going to be a slog, but we all fell in comfortably, chatting as we cruised along the road to Deer Park Fireroad. I managed the climb (and by managed I mean I didn't get dropped) and we got to Pantoll feeling happy to be out on the trails. It was just what I needed. I love cruisey runs where you just fall into pace and don't necessarily have to worry about feeling good or bad.

After a quick stop at Pantoll and a run re-route due to all the wash-outs, we headed over to Mountain Home Inn via Matt Davis. At Mountain Home Inn, we ran into our friend Mike and he joined us for a few miles along Sun Trail and down into Muir Woods. Mike was in the process of trying to start a bread starter from the Tartine bread book and so Nathan spent time answering his questions and talking him through the process. I think it is super cute when Nathan starts talking about bread because he gets so excited!

Mike turned off at Muir Woods and we headed over to Redwood Creek to connect to Miwok. Nathan and I had planned the route over breakfast and he really wanted to run down Diaz Ridge to finish the run because he'd never run down it. I figured it was going to be a beautiful way to finish a run so I was into it.

Miwok (from Redwood Creek) Trail is a special place for Nathan and I. In all the time we've been running together, no matter how far we run, whenever we get on this trail, one or both of us totally bonk (usually epically). Thankfully, we always have a gel to get our energy up, but we usually stop to have a quick kiss (ok maybe a make-out session) about halfway up the hill before taking our gel and carrying on.

This time was no different. Or so I thought.

We were cruising up the hill when Nathan said, "It never fails....I am totally bonking". I asked him if he had a gel and if he wanted to stop. He said he had a gel and would take it. He told me to keep going though so I kept on running. A minute later, he told me to hold up. So I stopped. He asked Brett to hold his waterbottle and after handing it off immediately pulled me into a kiss. Brett said, "Aw man, I didn't know I was going to have to hold your water bottle so you could make out with your girlfriend". I pulled away from Nathan to make a face at Brett (and was about to harass Nathan about taking his gel). As I pulled away and looked at Brett, Nathan dropped down on to his knee. He looked up at me, pulled a engagement ring off his pinkie finger where he'd been hiding it, held it up to me and said, "will you marry me?" I was shocked, so surprised in fact, I didn't believe this moment was actually happening. I asked him if he was kidding (actually first I called him something not very nice I was so surprised, oops) and then bumblingly told him, "YES!"

Meanwhile, Brett is in shock as well because he wasn't in on the secret. He told me "quick give me your camera!". It was nice to have someone else there to experience and capture the moment. I had witnessed Brett and Larissa get engaged a month earlier and it was such an emotional high!

I was overwhelmed. I cried, I laughed, I swore, I kissed Nathan over and over again. I couldn't believe it. We are so excited about our future together!

I learned something in that moment too. Something about me, something about my running. As I said earlier, I believed that I understood what it meant to be truly committed to something. I thought I was at the highest level of commitment with my running because I was rampaging forward with serious momentum, doing work, racing hard. I realize now that part of pushing so hard for so long comes out of not truly understanding what commitment for the long haul is. Real commitment for the long haul is not about precise execution, flawless discipline or perfection all the time. Sometimes it ugly, sad, messy. Relax, quirky or a total flop. I am excited about the heights to which my training has taken me in the past few years, it is exciting and wonderful. But at the same time, it has made me lose sight a bit of what I am truly committed to in running: doing it for my whole life. I have been driving myself so hard, there has been no room for balance (the good, the bad, the perfect, the totally flawed). I have enjoyed my successes less and taken my failures harder. I see now that I was trying to squeeze it all in, get out every last drop before some perceived inevitable end. I once loved something as much as running and now, it is not even a part of my life (basketball) at all. I think deep down I thought the same thing would happen with running. And so I pushed.

Getting engaged unlocked a deeper understanding of commitment for me. I thought I had always had a long term view of our relationship and yet, in that moment, I realized that I can in fact love more and my commitment can, in fact, deepen. In the days since, it has provided food for thought about my relationship with running. I want to get back on track with my primary goal of running for my entire life. I want to truly embody a long-term view. I want to remember that that kind of commitment takes work, discipline and execution, but it also takes forgiveness, balance and perseverance. If I can remember that, then each step is a little bit lighter as I see the path ahead of me for miles and miles, disappearing beyond the horizon.

YES!!!

Old Mutual Two Oceans Marathon (56k) Race Report

2012-04-12T20:32:00.001-07:00

It is a long way to go for a race. 22 hours flying over, 31 flying back. Fatigue, jet lag and being lost in time.

I wouldn't change the experience for anything.

Several months ago, I contacted the Nedbank Running Club about running Comrades with them. I knew that Kami, Mike Wardian, Ellie, Lizzie had all run with them in the previous iteration, so I was keen to sign up with them. Comrades was my big focus after the Trials. I figured it was a down year on the course and I had the speed that it would take to fight for a podium spot. I didn't even know about Two Oceans Marathon until the team managers Nick and Adriaan offered me a chance to come and run it. As luck would have it, my schedule allowed for it and I coordinated my details and set my sights on running a strong race in the 56k road event. I thought it would be an excellent introduction into racing in South Africa and give me a taste for what I had coming in June at Comrades. I trained hard for Two Oceans, researched the course as much as I could, and covered every little detail and before I could turn into a raving monster was on my way back to Cape Town, South Africa to race.

Flying for that long is an endurance event. Luckily, on the first leg between San Francisco and Amsterdam, I was able to upgrade to Business class using mileage and was able to get some sleep on the 10+ hour flight, which made the remaining 11+ hours a bit more bearable. I arrived in Cape Town, downed some food and went straight to bed on Wednesday night. Thursday and Friday I passed the time easily with short runs, hanging out with my Nedbank teammates, resting and checking out the expo. As much as I would have loved to revisit some of my old haunts from when I lived there, I was very focused on being boring and resting. I planned my days around eating and napping. The only excitement of the week came when I got to go to a press conference and answer lots of fun questions from the media.

I quickly realized that ultrarunning in South Africa is different. Not only does Two Oceans have 9,000 people running the 56k, it has live TV coverage, a course lined with people (even in the rain, I would find out) and is a huge deal. Ultrarunning in South Africa is not ultrarunning, it is just running. There is no dividing line between 42k and other distances. Running is just running. Coming from the states where ultras are so niche, it is down right shocking to have the "big city marathon" feel at a distance longer than a marathon. We could stand to learn a lot from the way they are doing things there.

Race Day:

I was up at 3am downing sweet potato puree, bananas and sunbutter, staring out the window to see if it was going to rain. I knew it would eventually but was hoping it would wait at least until we were underway (thankfully it didn't start raining until 12k into the race). We left the hotel promptly at 4:30 am to head to the start with about 40 total athletes for the Nedbank "Green Dream Team". It was quite the international group and included runners who were doing both the half marathon and the 56k. We managed to get quite close to the start line and park away from the major crowds down a quiet side street.

Homemade gel carrying device

My new race kit

Rocking the bun huggers.

Always travel with duct tape.

Eventually Mike Wardian and I roused from the car and went for a short warm-up jog down the street. I couldn't really tell how I was feeling. My legs felt fine, my mind felt fine. Not excited, just fine. It was like I couldn't decide where my head was at or how I could wrap my brain around the journey in front of me. I have never been in a race like this. It is an ultra distance race, but is going to take some serious speed to excel at. I really had no idea what to expect. I think my mind was torn between a marathon approach and an ultrarunning approach. Now in hindsight, I see that, much like the US running community, I just need a running approach. I need to run my races ferociously and be unafraid. I think when I toed the line at Two Oceans, I was a bit timid, my strategy conservative. I was not lining up going for broke. I was lining up playing it by ear. I don't regret my approach at all, but see now where I can work on for the next time.

I tossed my clothes in van and trotted over to the startline. Nick and Adriaan were suppose to be around to escort me to the front for media, pictures and a good position, but I was unable to find them, so I just tucked in to the front of the A corral a few seconds before they let the B corral move forward. It was packed, shoulder to shoulder with people. For 12 minutes, I just stood there hoping that when the gun went and the pack charged that I would stay on my feet.

The most beautiful thing to me right before the race was when they sang the national anthem "Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika". Everyone around me raised there voices and sang loudly and unabashedly. When the singing was over, we all braced ourselves and with a bang, we were off.

I am not use to being in such a big crowd and I also knew that I had no idea how fast the leaders, mainly Elena Nurgalieva (one of the Russian twins), would go out. Elena and her twin (who was not running due to injury) have won the race a bunch of times. I knew I wanted to stick with her if it was comfortable and at the very least, whatever I did, not go out in front of her.

Huge masses of people (ok men) took off like it was a sprint. I zigzagged around looking for some space and finally managed to spot Elena and the rest of the leading ladies. We fell into a pack of about 8, along with about 30 guys who were determined to pace off of us. Pretty soon we were joined by a small army of cyclists all clad in matching Garmin kits and they were trying to do a head count of the top ladies in the pack.

It took me a while to find my groove. I was hanging out at the back of the pack but found that I was having to significantly alter my stride to accommodate for the shorter runners in front of me. About 7km into the race, I hit the brakes for a minute and let myself get out of the back of the pack and have some room to stretch my legs.

There was ample water on the course, so I grabbed a pouch (like a water ballon) every other stop or so, whenever I was feeling in need of it. Soon it started pouring rain and I settled in for the long haul. At this point, I was still not sure how I felt. I knew there were some big hills ahead and I was uncertain how a big climb would feel immediately before and right after the marathon mark. I resolved to just play it smart and not run outside of myself. I made a conscious decision to run my own race and let the pack go if they pushed.

I was never at a loss for someone to run with. From the time the rain started at 12k until we began up Little Chapman, I was accompanied by a Swiss runner and a experience South African runner. We chatted, grabbed waters for one another and laughed at the ridiculous amount of rain that was falling. At one point we had to run out of the road onto the sidewalk to escape the completely flooded road. The Nedbank folks had handlers out on course at 27k and 36k and I grabbed another batch of Gu's from them each time.

We started to head up the long approach to Little Chapman (which is about 2-3km of 2% grade), it then pitches up much more steeply along a winding coastal road. My South African friend bid me farewall as he prepared to dig in for the climb. I felt good, so I kept motoring on and found a new group to run with. On some of the switchbacks I could see the lead women's pack a few minutes ahead and felt good about where I was. I was nearly 35k into the race and felt like I was just getting warmed up. I was relaxed and comfortable.

I fell into step with a fellow named Hans and we pushed our way to the top. Nearing the top, I caught up to a female runner who had been dropped from the pack. It gave me a nice boost of energy and I hit the top feeling very confident. The next 7k run you right back down the other side of the hill into Hout Bay where the marathon mark is. Running with Hans, I was very careful to heed all the warnings I'd been given and not trash my quads running too hard downhill. The kilometers clicked by quickly and I breezed through the marathon mark somewhere around 2:50. I had initially planned to possibly try and run as fast as 2:45 through the marathon mark, but the weather and the way the race unfolded lead me to be more restrained. I didn't feel like I was racing. I just felt like I was running along, enjoying the cheers from the spectators (to me there were a ton, but evidentially, when its not pouring, the course is lined) and clicking off kilometers. My brain wouldn't allow me to think about the race itself for some reason, it was only allowing me to focus on getting up and over Constantia Nek, the biggest climb of the day. It seemed my whole effort was moderated to get me to the top of the hill with minimal suffering.

After the marathon mark, I began the climb to the top. I didn't back off on my effort level and put my rain soaked head down to dig in. Pretty early on the ascent, I was passed by Adinda Kruger who was 3rd in 2010. She looked super strong and so I didn't make any attempt to go with her (and her husband who was pacing her the whole way). I had resolved to run my own race up to this point, why would I change that now. It was the first time in the entire race that I felt a slight twinge of competitiveness. I told myself, "I'll get her on the down".

Constantia surprised me or maybe I surprised Constantia because I cruised up the hill very well and arrived at the top feeling good. Really good. Right at the top is the Nedbank Green Mile and I was cheered through an army of supporters and over the top. I waved my arms wildly and incited the crowd into a frenzy.

The slight twinge of competitiveness became a flipped switch. I was at the top. It was game on. Just like that, I had a moment where I realized that I had been running way too easy and I had way too much left. I also knew that the majority of the last 8km were downhill. The slight uphills were short and sweet and since I had nothing but energy to burn, I began the chase.

I tossed aside my remaining gels and turned into a hunter. I knew that the leader(s) were about 5 minutes ahead as of 48km, so I could only be sure that Adinda was close enough to catch. I began flying. I was possessed. My legs didn't hurt, the previous kilometers melted away, feeling like a simple warm-up to get me to the point of this tempo workout.

I hammered down the hill and spotted Adinda just ahead, now joined by one of the Garmin clad cyclists. I knew I was in 7th place at that point and on a slight uphill just past the 50k mark (which I went through in 3:23, a 50k PR), I passed Adinda and left her behind. She seemed to be spent and didn't try to keep up with me. I kept pushing, harder, harder, harder. I wanted to squeeze every last saved ounce of energy out of my legs. I knew I was strong enough to sustain the steep downhill pounding so I urged myself on.

And then I spotted my next prey. I was able to identify the next woman up ahead because she had her own bike escort (I had one at this point as well). I pushed to catch up with her and flew past her without a sound. I was into 5th place and she could not move to keep up with me. I rounded the next bend and spotted 4th place up ahead. I cracked a joke to my bike pacer about going in for my next kill and I swept past her in a turn, moving in to 4th place. I was ecstatic. I had gone from being overly conservative to back in it. I knew I had more in me and I also knew that the last two kilometers were rolling uphill and I would need to be ready to run eyeballs out to the finish. I was nearing the turn on to the highway which marked the end of the downhill and the final push to the finish line when I saw her- 3rd place.

In that moment, I had to learn how to race. I knew nothing of how she was feeling, how much fight she had left and how my move on her would effect her. I knew I had to go by her with authority and not give her the chance to hang around. I used my ninja skills to silently approach from behind and then kicked passed her in a bold move. I pushed and pushed and pushed and didn't look back. I couldn't look back. I had to urge myself ever forward and not show fear. I had no fear, I felt too good to feel fear. I knew in my heart there was no way that she had enough to keep up with me feeling that way. I was flying.

I didn't relent. I just pushed until with 1/2 kilometer to go, I looked over my shoulder and she was long gone. I kicked up my pace and shot off the road onto the grass at University of Cape Town which was now a complete mud pit and tip toed my way to the finish line in 3:47:29. Good for third place and a huge late race comeback. Crossing the line, I felt a deep abiding sense of satisfaction in my accomplishment and in my race.

I was quickly ushered into the press room to answer questions at the press conference, then off to pee in a cup for drug testing. The rest of the day flew by in a flurry of socializing, awards ceremonies, and dodging the rain and mud puddles.

Looking back on this race now, I realize that I barely tapped my potential in this race. And that is ok. It is awesome to think that I am still in a place in my running where I can learn more, do more, race differently. I have room for growth. I played this race very conservatively because I had no idea how to wrap my head around everything: the course, the distance, the pace, the competition. In the end, I ran one hell of a gutsy race and a flawless finish. I am stoked, so stoked to have made it onto the podium in such a huge race. I don't think I have ever come in 3rd place in an international race or a race with 9,000 people. Two Oceans was just the beginning. Now I have my sights on Comrades and I am excited and nervous to see what I can do at it; the world's biggest ultra!

Nedbank teammate in the top 10!

Ladies Top 10

Some fun post race adventures before getting on my flight:

I came here by: Uthando

2012-04-03T08:50:00.000-07:00

The following poem is one I wrote for my Honors thesis under Professor Linda Bierds after returning home from three months living in Cape Town, South Africa. Today, I journey back there and this journey is much more to me than just another race. It is a return to find an important part of myself.

I came here by: Uthando

I came here by two: they were barefoot and shy, they held to the outer edge of the circle of older basketball players like the shanties, dilapidated shacks and streets made of dust held the

lush green oasis of the Peace Park.
Everyone was watching the coaches talking,
while they watched me with expressions
I cannot unravel; they gained
courage and divided and conquered me,
one to each side of me, head on hip,
my hands reaching down to cup the
sides of their faces; they each took my hands
and kissed them softly with little lips that seemed
to have only known their mothers and
fathers, they kissed my hands with knowledge like children grown old in too few years; I picked
them up in my arms off the cool wet grass,
one to each hip and carried them away
with me as far as I could, across the sanctuary,
yet not crossing from grass to dust.
I carried them back again, away from the sun’s heat
into the cool shade of the lemonwood tree,
staring into their dark brown eyes and saying
nothing because there was no language
between us, they kissed me on my pale white cheeks and I on their deep black foreheads until someone said we have to go now; I placed them on the ground, waved goodbye and I watched them run behind the car, so
as not to be left behind. But it was I who was left behind.

copyright 2003 Devon Crosby-Helms

Hungry hungry hippo

2012-04-01T17:01:00.000-07:00

On Robben Island, 2003. Yes that is me.

Photos in this post are from my time in South Africa in 2003.

Inevitably at some point during taper week the following conversation will take place:

Me: "I feel fat"

Nathan: "Taper crazy"

Me: "No really, I am feel like all I am doing is eating! I am going to be a hippo before I get to the start line"

Nathan: "Taper crazy"

Me: "No you aren't listening, I am stuffing myself. I just can't stop eating."

Nathan: "Yeah, you are getting really fat on all that butternut squash you are eating."

Me: "I hate racing. I am never racing again."

Nathan: "I loooove you. Taper crazy."

No matter how perfectly you plan your taper, or how precisely you execute it, chances are, at some point you will feel tired, sore, fat and out of shape, all of this will likely be accompanied by a ravenous, insatiable appetite. In other words, exactly how you should feel during taper.

Despite racing 18 marathons and 28 ultras since I did my first race back in 2003 when I lived in Cape Town, I have yet to really make friends with this aspect of taper. I can know its coming, steel myself against it, but somehow some proliferation of these feelings occurs. I often ponder how nice it would be to arrive on race day not feeling like this. But I know, deep down, that these feelings and distractions are actually a vital part of getting to the start line with my mind and body right.

When I break it down, the hungry, hungry hippo I become during my taper (of any duration, usually a two week taper), makes a lot of sense. I come in to taper off of really high mileage, high intensity weeks. I feel primed and like I could do a little bit more, not exhausted or in need of a taper. Just one step removed. Coming off 100-120 mile weeks into a period of comparative rest allows your body the space to feel tired, sore, the flood gates of hunger opened. It is a necessity of a good taper not to be restrictive, to nourish your body to give it strength for the race and to recover from the work. I keep my diet super clean during taper, but there is really little departure from my regular day-to-day diet than usual.

The fat and out of shape feeling that accompanies the ravenous hunger is a little mind trick that comes out of simply having more time on my hands and nothing to do with it. When I start cutting back mileage, I am spending less time running and more time in my own head. I don't necessarily fill up that new found time with stuff and instead try to do what you are suppose to do in taper: rest.

All of these things are crappy to think and feel, no one enjoys doubting them self or berating them self or questioning their training. The longer I race, the more I recognize this whole thing as a neurotic preparation process. Feeling like a hungry, hungry hippo who is utterly destroying my careful preparation through an imperfect taper process, destroys any unconscious expectations on myself and mentality prepares me to have whatever kind of day is in store for me. It makes me more present, because I ride the spectrum from feeling super fit and primed to feeling completely incapable, and therefore have no choice but to just accept my fate. Usually by race day, I am simply at a point where I say "we'll see how it goes".

Tapering is not a fun process. It is a necessary process however and absolutely vital to going into a race fully prepared. While I may never embrace the emotional rollercoaster that accompanies taper, I am slow learning to recognize the patterns, not fight it and let it produce the result it needs to.

I may still feel like a hungry, hungry hippo (yes, I know that I am not), but I as I enter my final week of taper, I am embracing the process, instead of fighting it. I am preparing to do battle, to enjoy the heck out of myself at Two Oceans in Cape Town running for the Nedbank Team, to return to where my running career (as an adult) began and to explore what is possible.

Besides, hippos are super cute.

(Source)

Limits

2012-03-23T18:24:00.004-07:00

Doing 16x400 on the Treadmill in Seattle

Photo by Jonathan (clearly)

It feels like only yesterday that I was sprinting the finish at Napa Valley Marathon securing the win and breaking a 20 year old course record by a mere 7 seconds. Since then I have been both exploring and knowing my limits.

I have been reading the book Run: The Mind-Body Method of Running by Feel by Matt Fitzgerald and not only is it a fantastic read, but it is also helping me have the confidence to believe I know myself and to listen to my body. Over the last year, I have worked incredibly hard with my coach and in my running to really develop a method and rhythm that works for me. I have come to realize that I tolerate high mileage well and that I adapt to intense training pretty quickly (Fitzgerald talks about this in his book). I have also found that shorter training cycles work for me and prevent me from burning out. Looking back on the last year of training, I can also see that after a race, whether A race or otherwise, I usually need about a week to really get my head straight and my mojo going again. This is why having a digit running log is great, you can map the peaks and valleys quite clearly.

Napa Valley Marathon was suppose to be a controlled effort used as a precursor to the upcoming Two Oceans race in South Africa. It was a great race and the perfect boost in my training. Despite it being "training" or qualifying it that way in my head, I wasn't ready to plunge immediately back into hard training. It took me a week. I ran lightly and only as far as felt excited to do. I took naps. I skipped my long run when I really, really wasn't into it. And for once, I cut myself some slack about it. I figured it was best to know my limits and not push through and have a bad run. Taking that extra day off really refreshed me and by Monday morning, March 12th, I was ready to drop some serious intensity and serious mileage.

Last week I hammered. I ran in crappy, nasty rainy weather. I went to Seattle to cheer on my friends at Chuckanut 50k and I ran on a treadmill to do my intervals because the weather wouldn't stay calm enough for me to do them outside. I ran as hard as I could for as long as I could on the Alter-G. I pushed my limits and just when I thought I was at my limit, I pushed a bit more just to make sure. I ran 119 miles last week and got in some high quality tempo and interval work. I had a decent long run and was satisfied with how the week went.

By the end of the week, I was definitely walking a fine line of being at or over my limit. Running on the Alter-G at faster than my 400 meter speed for a few miles at a time had my hamstrings tight and sore. A lingering sore spot in my foot (from Napa) became more and more painful. I walked on the edge of that limit and took a risk of it being too much. Thankfully, it wasn't.

Monday I took a much needed rest day and Tuesday I only did one run in the afternoon after having my massage therapist Scott go to town on my legs. The run felt good and I enthusiastically hammered out a very tough 8x800 in 2:36-2:40 pace on Wednesday. Thursday I hit the Alter-G again for a progression run and was flying along at 5 minute pace after 45 minutes of sub 5:30. It was awesome.

Next week taper begins for Two Oceans and I feel like I have done all that I can do this training cycle to prepare myself. I have pushed my limits and I have also respected my limits. I have learned a bit more about myself and started to actually recognize patterns in my own training. I look forward to continuing to chase and push my limits and see what can be uncovered.

Napa Valley Marathon Race Report

2012-03-05T20:30:00.002-08:00

Photo by Leigh Ann Wendling

I never get too hopeful that I will actually make it to the line at Napa Valley marathon. Since winning in 2007, I have been signed up twice more and both times have been thwarted by serious illness. After spectating the race last year, I was excited to run the race again for myself. The timing of the race was perfect for my 2012 schedule. It allowed enough time for me to recover from the Trials and was a perfect lead up to first big race of the year: Two Oceans (April 7 in Capetown, South Africa).

I recovered well from the Trials and was back up to training hard starting about two weeks after the Trials. Since then, I have had some very confidence boosting workouts with Nathan and have sought to dig deeper than ever before. My coach Howard threw some of the hardest workouts I have ever done at me and I really have started to enjoy really really really pushing my own limits.

I came into Napa with a race plan that suited my continuing training schedule. I wanted to keep my training volume up before the race, so I only did a short taper. I ran 40 miles the week before the race and part of me was wondering if I had too steeply curbed my training. I didn't want to run the race rested, I didn't want to run the race tired, but I also didn't want to completely miss the mark and run it flat. I crossed my fingers the week of the race and hoped for the best. Nathan was racing again and I looked forward to getting dusted by him (he was 3rd last year in 2:33) or possibly, using him as a rabbit to pursue.

We headed up to Napa mid-afternoon on Saturday and enjoyed a nice dinner at Bounty Hunter in Napa. We had my favorite pre-race meal: steak, baked potato and green salad. And a glass of Pinot. I figured, why not? I am actively trying not to be on the "no fun diet" (aka what Nathan calls the way I eat leading up to a major race), so a glass of wine was a nice pre-race treat.

We woke up at 3:30 am and Nathan fired up the Jet-Boil to make a French Press of coffee. I was not feeling that good. I had all sorts of niggles in my legs, my breakfast had to be choked down and I was not feeling the way I would like to on race morning. It made me a bit worried of how the day would play out. Or more, it made me completely relinquish any pressure I put on myself for being the race favorite. I was just going out for a hard long run and focused on my plan.

It was cold and calm at the start and I was happy for my sleeves and gloves as we got ready to start at 7am. Nathan and I did a bit of a shake out run and lined up with the other 2,500 runners. Off we went. Three guys (who would finish as the top 3) shot out on mid 2:20 pace and I settled into a nice group with Nathan, Victor (fellow ninja), Elvis (aka Ian Sharman) and one guy I didn't know. It was like a fast, road ninja run! As soon as we started going I felt pretty comfortable, I think my body just found that switch and flipped it. We cruised out just about 6 minute pace and rolled our way towards Napa for the first few miles.

6 min pace felt effortless and I just tried to lock in and not be tempted to go any faster. I knew the course would keep rolling and I didn't want to push it too hard on any of the hills. 6's felt good but when we would let the pace creep down into the mid 5:40s, I could tell I was working harder (duh, I know).

My race plan was to run 6 min/pace (if it felt controlled and comfortable) until mile 20 and then push it if I could. I was rocking my new Timex Run Trainer watch and had it set to take mile splits (It was a fantastic watch and really easy to use/read). Even from the very first mile it was doing splits before the official race sign, but I didn't worry about it since my pace was showing up spot on and Ian, who is an absolute metronome, confirmed via his GPS we were right on pace as well. I had noticed that the start was moved back a ways since the last time I ran and there is a huge variance of tangents one can run to add extra distance.

Photo by Rick Gaston

Somewhere around mile 6 or 7, our group of 5 splintered as Nathan took off on what I would consider "his pace". I was actually surprised he was with us for so long but he soon disappeared down the road like he was riding a bicycle. Victor and the other guy gave a bit of chase and I consciously stopped myself from pursuit. I had a plan and I intended to stick to it. If I was feeling frisky at 20, then I could do all the chasing I wanted to. But until then, I held back and stuck with Ian, who is a fellow North Face teammate. He was going for the Guinness World Record for fastest marathon in an Elvis costume and needed to run a 2:42 to do so. He said he was planning on 2:37 pace as long as his fitness would allow him, so we carried on, chatting and rolling down the Silverado Trail. Every time we'd pass a mile marker, Ian would tell me what our pace was and what pace we needed to run to each break our respective records. Going in to this race I knew the course record was 2:39:42, so I used it as a motivator to not let up the pace just because I was far ahead of second place.

Photo by Jorgen Gulliksen/Napa Valley Register

We made it through 10 miles on target in 1:00:xx and blasted on through the halfway mark without losing any ground in just under 1:19 (can't be exactly sure of the splits since my watch was not splitting on the mile markers as I mentioned). I was still feeling really good and controlled at the halfway mark and was also feeling a bit antsy. My energy was good and my GU that I had taken was not bothering my stomach as it had in Houston and NYC. It was getting much warmer and I was really happy that I had shed my sleeves and gloves along the way. Around mile 17, I decided to put a bit of a move on for a bit and see if I could let the pace out just slightly to spice things up for myself. I knew there was a pretty big hill around mile 20 which would slow me down, so I wanted to let out a bit of the reins to see how my body handled it. It felt really smooth to transition to a slightly faster pace and I just went with it. I am really trying to experiment with my limits in the faster racing, so I figured if I was going to make a mistake, a training race was the time to do it.

Mile 18, pulling away. Photo by Rick Gaston

I started pushing it a bit and Ian dropped off me a little bit, but not far. He would charge back on a downhill and we were still pretty close heading up the climb at mile 20. I came through mile 20 under 2:02 and figured that if I could just maintain or even speed up, I would make the record. I thought back to the hard long runs Nathan and I had been doing with fast finishes and the various hard tempo workouts I had done leading up to this race. I was confident that barring an epic blow-up, I could finish this race strong.

Around mile 20, I did notice that my left foot was hurting. I had once again tied my shoes in a way that was putting pressure on the top of my foot. I had done this in Houston as well in fear of a shoelace coming undo. Instead, it was hobbling me a bit and I tried to decide if I could make it the rest of the race without fixing it. I kept running trying to navigate pushing harder and overreaching. I was tired so "pushing harder" translated more into "maintaining earlier pace". I was close to 6min/miles as I hit the valley floor and started making turns to work my way to the finish line.

It was gorgeous out and super sunny but it was also quite windy after leaving the Silverado Trail. I remembered from my previous run at Napa that the last 6 had a pretty steady headwind. I appreciated the wind only because it kept me cool, but it certainly did nothing for speeding up. At mile 23 I couldn't take it anymore and stopped to adjust the tongue of my shoe. I came to a complete halt, yanked the dang thing around and relieved the pressure on my foot. It was a risky move since I knew stopping meant my legs would have a chance to seize up. In the 15 or so seconds I was stopped, my legs definitely tightened and it took me another 30 seconds to get them moving again. My foot felt much better, so it was worth it to me to stop.

Throughout the race, I had a race marshall on a bicycle nearby and she would call in updates on my times to the finish. I was back cruising pretty hard, trying to calculate how close I was going to cut it to the course record with the stop. I passed mile 24 and a large group of spectators. I noticed that there were cones blocking off the streets where we weren't suppose to turn and I felt confident in the obviousness of the course. I ran passed one such intersection and was about 10 feet beyond it when the bicycle pacer screamed, "STOP!!! You missed the turn! Come back!" I screeched to a halt, about faced towards here, looked at the intersection where all the spectators were now yelling, "No, no, no keep going!". Even though it was obvious I was suppose to continue straight this was an official race marshall telling me I was about to go off course, so I had to take the time to make sure I did not in fact go the wrong way. Another 20-25 seconds lost. I sprinted off in the correct direction, now with no room for error. I was starting to doubt with the time lost that I would even make it under 2:40. I felt surprisingly calm about it. Found it humorous even. Sure I would have loved to run a PR, but circumstances were not in my favor and things had conspired otherwise. My effort was there to run a PR, so I was pleased with that.

I really had to push it, I had less than 13 minutes to make it 2.2 miles to get the record. I was going to go for it and push out the run in the way I had intended to: HARD. Now that the record was in jeopardy, I wanted it even more. It stood for 20 years, I was so close, I could not let it go.

Photo by Rick Gaston

I hammered it home, making the final 5 turns towards the high school. I churned my legs as hard as I could and used my arms, glancing at my watch to see how close I was. I turned the final straight away and charged to the finish line, victorious. And with a new course record: 2:39:37.

Photo by J.L. Sousa/Napa Valley Register

Thinking about it now, I am so pleased with how this race went. I got to run on a beautiful, challenging course on an amazing weather day. Face some random debacles to test my head (and stay unfazed). Try out a different race strategy and paces. Push myself. Wine a ton of wine. The rest of the day was filled with good friends, delicious food (at Oxbow!) and savoring our accomplishments (Nathan was 4th!!). I am now looking toward Two Oceans in a month with excitement and am hungry for the challenge!

Nathan and I at the finish

Photo by J.L. Sousa/Napa Valley Register

And of course, the best part: Wine!
Photos by Rick Gaston

Long term relationship

2012-02-15T17:56:00.000-08:00

Seriously serious about running

I don't recall the exact moment that it happened and I can only recognize it now that its true: I've gone all in with my running. I know it started with pursuing the Olympic Trials qualifier and simply grew and grew from there. And now I find myself at a place where, for the first time, I am taking a long view of my running and development as a runner. I am making plans and setting future goals.

It may be strange to think that I have ever been any other way about running, but the fact of the matter is, my racing has always been about short terms goals. I have always seen my running as something I want to do perpetually for a long time, but my racing has always been only on the micro scale. I never thought in terms of how my workout today might lay groundwork for a breakthrough in 3 years. Since I switched over to ultras, I have raced so often that my mind has never had to really plan longer than 3-6 months out. I have thrived and developed through intense 8-10 weeks of training at a time. I build on one race to leverage another, but the goals are always close at hand and readily upon me before I have time to even think about it.

After my recent success at NYC marathon and the Olympic Trials, I am chomping at the bit to see what I can develop into as a runner. I am eager to see what kind of runner I can become. I am back training intensely when many of my fellow competitors from the Trials are only now just considering going back to serious running. I have new goals and am pushing myself towards them. I am focusing back on the details and working on new ways to develop myself as a runner. I am all in.

Last week, after asking my coach Howard to up the intensity and difficulty of my key workouts, I was treated to more butt kicking than I have ever experienced. I ran so hard in my key workouts that I finished them completely drained and spent. I had moments where I bordered on wanting to puke or give up or fall apart but made it through. It was intensely satisfying and I am excited to do this tough kind of work.

And then yesterday afternoon, I had one of the worst runs of my life. I felt dead, I felt drained. My legs felt disembodied and I couldn't get my head right. I let it stress me out because with a short training cycle, every day and every decision feels so much more important. I spent a good amount of time contemplating how I was feeling, what my problem was, and generally just beat myself up about it. I finished the run and was worried that my important workout today would be compromised by fatigue or soreness that seemed to wrack my body.

When I woke up this morning, I felt a lot better and set out to my hill repeats up Strawberry Hill. Howard had 6 repeats planned for me, but being the glutton (mileage/intensity) that I am I was thinking that I would try and do more if I felt good. I started the workout and felt fine. Not good, not bad, just fine. And then I had an epiphany: Sometimes you just have to get in there and do the work. Some workouts are just building blocks for the long term goals. Every workout, run, decision is not a make or break. I realized that this workout didn't need to be a perfect one, it didn't need to be a breakthrough one, it didn't need to be THE workout. Instead, I realized that it was about getting my hands dirty and digging in, a building block for the future. I realized that I had put too much pressure on myself in individual workouts or decisions because I was not seeing the long term plan. I forgot that gardens take time to grow.

After my run, I was reading an article by Greg McMilan about Traits of a Successful Runner and this quote jumped off the page:

We have a saying in our Olympic training team that you must train consistently for two straight years -- no unscheduled interruptions due to injury or illness -- to even begin to see how good you can be. This reality applies to all of us. A year of consistent running is more beneficial than a few stellar weeks of training.

I had been living in a constant state of a "few stellar weeks of training" mentality. I realized on my run today and upon reading this, that I am, in fact, amid a much bigger period of uninterrupted consistent training. I hadn't seen it before, but I was working for the bigger picture without even being able to clearly see it. Furthermore, I had skewed my mentality to focus on the importance of short-term gains.

I see now that, while I have short term running goals, speeding very quickly up to meet me, they are only a part of the plan and their importance should not overshadow the pursuit of long term development. In essence, by allowing myself to look at the big picture, I am relieving the pressure to achieve everything NOW, NOW,NOW (or soon, soon, soon). By seeing that I am working towards the big picture, both successes and failures feel much more like the gentle ebbing and flowing of the tide instead of gigantic 100 foot waves. I am released from feeling like I have to do everything perfect because I can see that somedays simply cutting myself some slack is as important as the hardest most lung burning workout.

I am all in, but now I see that being all in, doesn't necessarily mean being unbalanced or single minded. It means methodically doing the work, taking steps in the right direction and constantly cultivating the garden where the seeds of my future will grow.

Being all in, doesn't mean stopping your life, either. Cheers to that.

A new adventure

2012-01-31T20:10:00.000-08:00

TRT 50 mile, 2007. Photo by Scott Dunlap

The photo above was taken in my first year of ultrarunning, it was pre-sponsor days. In fact it was my very first 50 miler. Now looking at this picture, I see an immensely amount of foreshadowing about the course of my running and, more over, being sponsored. What you can't see in this picture is that I am wearing one of my beloved pair of Salomon running shoes. I wore the heck out of those shoes and finally in 2009 became a member of the Salomon running team. At that point in my running career, I was becoming very ultra focused and had my eyes on the 100 milers for 2010. Yes, I was still doing some road stuff, but it was secondary. I loved my time on the Salomon running team. They were amazing generous sponsors and I really loved my teammates.

Last year, I found myself as a runner. Deciding to try and run the Olympic Trials in the marathon was a turning point in my running career. I got back to the root of who I was as a runner and the way that I train best. No, I am not going to say that I found a road runner. Instead, I found an adventurer. And I found someone who can seek adventure within as much as I can seek adventure on a mountain or curving the line of some single track. I found balance, challenge and started to redefine myself. I am a hybrid runner. I love road, trail, combos, uphills, downhills, short and long distance. I just love to run, unabashedly and unbiased. My contract was up with Salomon at the end of last year and I decided not to renew it. I didn't have any other offers on the table at the time, but I could see that where I was going with my running, was not the proper fit for the Salomon team anymore. I am very thankful for my time at Salomon and the opportunities they gave me.

After the Olympic Trials, I was feeling incredibly inspired in my running. I was choosing races according to my hearts desire alone. Dreaming big and setting some huge goals. I feel like I am exploring the possibilities of who I can be as a runner and as an adventurer. It is a really cool feeling.

When I started exploring the possibilities of potential other sponsors, I spent a good amount of time considering whether I would find a sponsor that would accept me for who I am as a runner. I made a firm decision that I would run for no one if it mean compromising the things I had learned about myself.

I said the photo above was foreshadowing and looking at it now, I see it was. When I was unsponsored and new to the sport, I simply wore what I liked/loved, what felt comfortable, what made me feel like I could run like the wind. What was I rocking?

I am excited, humbled and absolutely overjoyed to announce that I am joining the North Face team. I am super stoked to be a part of such an amazing group of athletes and represent for a company that embodies the same spirit of adventure that I do. I have some great races lined up for the year and I can't wait to get started!

I am worthy

2012-01-28T11:14:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning with a hangover. No, not the booze induced kind. The emotional kind. The I let myself get flipped, turn upside down, which was is up kind. The feeling of going from confident and empowered to weak, confused, self-doubting and self-deprecating. This morning on my run, I had to dig deep to work my way out of the tailspin and get back on firm ground.

I am someone who is a lifelong believer in self-work. I search myself for the root of things, look in the mirror face on and continually try to be the best person I can be. I want to be the best me I can be, the most genuine, the most real. For myself and for others.

In my life, one of the things that I have had to work hardest at is not externalizing my self-worth, not depending on others to validate me or tell me I am good enough. I have learn the lesson the hard way, hurtful ways, time and time again. But as a person dedicated to self work, I have gradually learned the lesson. I have learned that the price you pay for that external validation is often too high.

Two weekends ago at the Trials, when the gun went off, I was not brimming with confidence. I didn't necessarily feel like I belonged. For the first two miles of the race, I focused on a single mantra, repeating it over and over again to chase away the self-doubt. "I am strong. I am fast. I am important." By the time we reached the 2 mile marker, the self-doubt had melted away and I was ready to just run my butt off. I knew I belonged. I believed that I was worthy. I found the validation within myself.

Since the Trials, I had not relinquished that self-empowerment. I felt excited, empowered and enthusiastic about the possibilities moving forward this year. Over the past year, I feel like I truly came into my own as a runner and with that, my understanding of myself as a runner. I was feeling self-directed and that I was training and racing the way that brought pure joy and happiness to my life. I felt free of expectations and the need for external validation. It is such an amazing feeling to wake up passionate every day about the life you are living.

But self-work is constant work and old habits can die hard. When you think you are safe, it is often the time to be most vigilant. And yesterday, I relinquished my feelings of self-worth and let others dictate how I felt about myself. By the end of yesterday, I was no longer riding the high brought on by my empowering run at the Trials, I was, instead, my own worst enemy. By externalizing my feelings of self-worth and validation, I simply moved farther and farther away from actually feeling that way. Every attempt to regain it externally pushed me farther down the rabbit hole. I could not talk myself out of it.

So when I woke up this morning, the feeling of being emotional steamrolled lingered. As Nathan and I took off on a run, I immediately started negative self-talk and self-depreciation. I beat myself up.

But as we ran, I pulled myself up short. I stopped punishing myself and being my own worst enemy. I forgave myself for relinquishing my power and my self-worth externally. I simply stopped. I realized that, despite a perception of the world being turned upside down, the world was still exactly where I left it. Nothing had actually changed except my perception of it and my perception of myself in it. Just because I was now telling myself I was unworthy, the world was no different than when I believed I was. It may seem like a very simple thing, but the way we talk to ourselves has infinite power to shape our perception of the world.

People say self-deprecating things about themselves to me all the time. They tell me they are not as good a runner, they can't go that fast, they can't do xyz and it always bothers me. I always tell people that what they are doing is amazing and it is not a matter of comparison. If 3 miles is your 50 miles, then you should feel amazingly empowered by that. To say to yourself, "I am worthy" creates an energy and power inside yourself that makes you feel like you could take on the world. Yesterday, I was reminded that whatever it takes, I need to keep the mantra replaying over in my head. We all do. Our worth is our own. And we should protect it vigilantly.

I am strong. I am important. I am smart. I am beautiful. I am worthy.

2012 Olympic Trials Marathon- Race report

2012-01-16T17:30:00.000-08:00

Photos in this post by Nathan Yanko, Meredith Terranova and Larry King. Thanks guys!!

When I stepped off the plane in Houston, I knew I was ready for the adventure that lay before me. I was finally in a good mindset and had shook off the taper crazies. Nathan and I arrived on Thursday and I deliberately tried to soak in the whole experience because I knew before I could even think about it, it would be gone in a flash.The experience really did go screaming by. And wow, what an experience it was.

I have never been in an event like this. There really is nothing akin to trying to make the Olympic Team. Sure, I have run races with more people but I have never experienced running amongst the best of the best. The only thing I can liken it to is times in my high school days when I went to all-start tournaments with All-Americans from around the country. I played with and against some of the best players currently in the WNBA. But even that experience, doesn't really come close. It was incredibly special, a once in a lifetime opportunity. Looking back now, just a few days later, it already feels like a dream. And it hard to put into words what being in that race truly felt like.

I toed the line with no expectations. It was really hard for me to form time goals for this race because while my training was good after NYC marathon, I just wasn't sure it was enough time to drop another huge PR. I resolved to listen to my body, be smart and see how things unfolded.

Leading up to the race, my runs felt ok, but not great. My cold/sickness seemed to be outbound as I had given it to Nathan, but my energy was still a bit off. I was tired but couldn't manage to sleep in or take naps. Even as I warmed up for the race, running laps around of the exposition halls in the convention center, I couldn't really tell where I was at. I didn't feel zippy but I also didn't feel lethargic.

It was amazing to be surrounded by so many incredible athletes. And though the air was thick with tension and nerves, I felt really calm all race morning. Before the race, I set myself up with my headphones and waited to be called to the start. When we were finally called to the start, I took several deep breathes and remembered to take in every single moment.

Outside we had a huge staging area to warm up in. There were lots of fans surrounding the gates and I could hear the crowds beyond in starting area getting charged. The men were started and before I could form another thought, we were jogging up to the line to begin the 2012 Olympic Trials.

I was surrounded by the best of best in American marathoning. I had been having a hard time believing that I belonged there. Yes, I qualified but I still felt on the outside. I wasn't seen by others or even by myself as a marathoner, I was an ultrarunner. A stranger in a strange land. Standing there on the line though, I knew that labels didn't matter and any dog can have its day. I wasn't there just to be there, I was there to run my ass off and that is all that mattered.

We were set at the line. The pause before the start. I stopped the world for a moment. I stopped my brain. I held the moment. Snapped it in my mind and became completely present. It is a moment to be savored, it is a moment in which I felt completely prepared for the 26.2 mile journey ahead of me.

The gun went off and the crowd pressed forward. We went out incredibly slow and the huge pack of women made it hard to get into stride. I just let myself be carried along with the crowd, unconcerned about the initial miles pace. I knew a few runners with 2:35 time goals and I positioned myself just behind them. We ran nearly the slowest split of my entire race (6:18) but dropped the pace easily over the next mile (5:52) to stretch out the group. My legs felt good as we finished up the first 2.2 loop through downtown and made our first pace through the finish line. We headed back through the downtown and out onto the big 8 mile loop.

I was slightly behind the 20 person deep 2:35-ish pace group, but they weren't pulling away so after a few miles of being slightly (25-30 feet back) behind the group, I gassed it a bit to join the group and benefit from the drafting. It really is a huge energy savings to run in a group like that. Not only does it block the wind, but it takes your mind off of regulating your own pace. I looked around the group several times and felt like I wasn't working harder than anyone else to maintain the low 5:50s we were clicking off. I wasn't breathing hard and my legs felt good. I was taking in my water and starting taking in 1/3 of a GU each time I got one of my bottles after mile 8.

We worked our way around the loop and I soaked up each stride, each cheer, each time someone recognized me and screamed my name or cheered "Go Fast Foodie!!!!". It was so cool. A few people would drop out of the group and others would join, but a decent sized pack was still together as we completed our first loop. I hit the 10 mile mark in 59:29, which is by far a 10 mile PR.

Before the race, I toyed with the idea of not wearing a watch. After the first loop I decided that, just like my gloves and sleeves, I was going to toss my watch. I had purposefully worn a simple watch that I wasn't attached to, so as I headed out for my second loop, I tossed it to the crowd and decided to continue to run by feel.

The group got smaller and smaller as we headed towards the half way mark. I kept taking my water and GU, but noticed that my stomach would become quite unsettled each time I would take a gel. I made sure that I only took a small nip and backed off the pace a bit each time I took one in. I maintained the mid 5:50s through the halfway mark, cruising through just under 1:18 (another huge PR).

Soon thereafter the group splintered and I was pretty much by myself. Looking at my splits now, I clearly downshifted just after the halfway mark. I consciously decided to run comfortably instead of gambling by pushing too early.

I like loop courses. For me the familiarity makes each loop seem smaller and smaller. In the blink of an eye, I was back in downtown finishing up my second loop. I kept my head up and smiled and smiled and smiled. I just kept telling myself "what an adventure!!!". It was incredibly. The crowd was electric. While I liked the loops, I definitely don't think the course was that fast. The surface we ran on was pretty taking and there were lots of tight turns.

About 4 miles to go.

I took a moment to think about the fact that I was about to start my final loop of the Olympic Trials. I knew it would go by in a blur and so I made my mind a sponge and absorbed every detail I could. I decided that I would keep maintaining pace until about mile 23 and then really go for it. Before the Trials, I thought I might gamble and try to red line for a long time, but as I started the final loop, I knew that I was on track for a PR despite the slower pace I was holding and didn't want to blow up.

3 miles to go!

I never bonked, I never felt really bad. My stomach did flip flops a few times and my energy was not 100% even from the start (from being sick), but I couldn't have asked for a better race. At mile 23, I started working my pace down back into the low 6s. I started reeling women back in and focused on whomever was right in front of me. I didn't want to get caught so I just kept pressing towards the next target. Coming back into the downtown I saw Mike Spinnler (race director of JFK 50 and friend), he had been cheering all day on course (which was hugely appreciated!) and he informed me that the next lady in front of me was 4 time Olympian Colleen De Reuck. And I was going to try and catch her.

With less than 2 miles to go, the emotions of the experience were starting to catch up with me. I told myself not to cry, that it didn't make breathing easier. I just pressed as hard as I could to try and catch Colleen. She was a good bit ahead of me, so I had my work cut out from me (I nearly caught her, but she got me by 3 seconds!). I floated towards Discovery Green and the mile 26 sign. I was flying.

I hit the mile 26 marker and couldn't stop the tears or the huge cheesy grin on my face. I beared down as hard as I could, trying to leave it all out there and rounded the final turn to the finish line. I pushed as hard as I could, arm swinging, feet flying.

I crossed the finish line in 2:38:55, 36th overall and a huge PR on the biggest stage there is other than the Olympics themselves. For a moment, I felt exhausted, but then just like NYC marathon, the feeling passed and I did a little happy dance saying "first ultrarunner!!!". There were many other women who had just come in and many of them looked like they were about to pass out and die. One of the volunteers remarked that I didn't even look tired and I said "well, I am use to running another marathon plus 10 more miles usually". I made my way out of the finishing area and was reunited with Nathan before being ushered back into the convention center. I cried when I saw him, the whole experience, the accomplishment washing over me. I was so blessed to have Nathan, my mom, Sarah and Steven there to support me. They made the experience so special for me.

Happy Finisher!

Finishing the race and having such a huge PR didn't feel like the end to me, instead it felt like the beginning of an entirely new adventure. When I crossed that finish line, I knew I belonged there. I knew it was not a crazy fluke or out of my mind insanely good day. I had run within myself and my training had brought me continued improvement. I know now based on how good I felt all day that I haven't even reached my true potential.

It is amazing for me to think that until March 20 of last year (LA marathon), my PR was a 2:49. In less than a year, I have steadily improved at the marathon and begun to learn what makes me body adapt and develop. While I put all my eggs in one basket for this race in the last 10 weeks, I still did run 4 100ks and 4 marathons and plenty of long adventures as well. In the past year, I have had my cake and eaten it too. I feel out of my mind with joy right now and not simply because of the accomplishment, but because I see that my potential is only beginning to be tapped. By far the coolest feeling is knowing that there is more to be discovered, deeper to dig, more to uncover.

At the beginning of last year, I thought the journey was to the 2012 Olympic Trials. I thought that that is where the chapter would end. Now I see, it wasn't the end of a chapter, it was the introduction to an entirely new book. I look forward to discovering what I can do, following the thread of adventure and discovery before me.

For now, I am just going to soak it in. Soak in every fleeting morsel of pride and endorphins. Bask in the accomplishment. Allow myself to have this moment be everything and the only thing for just a bit. Soon enough I will be heading towards for new adventures and climbing new mountains. I am so excited for the challenge and adventure that is before me.

Fast Foodies unite. AR record holder Deena Kastor and I after the race.

Media/Interviews:

Running Times

Runners World Trail Blog

A Texas sized celebratory meal at Chuy's.

Mom and my sister after the race. Love you guys!

Spirit of Adventure

2012-01-10T10:58:00.000-08:00

Krissy and I celebrating our FKT at the Grand Canyon

(photo: Ultraspire)

This time last year, I was gearing up at my first attempt at making the Olympic Trials qualifying standards. I decided at the end of 2010 to shift my focus towards that goal and for the first time in my running career really see how fast I could be if I focused on running the marathon. I had never really given the marathon my full attention and had never really put all of myself into it. I ran my first marathon in 2005 and by August 2006, I ran my first ultra and was hooked. From then on, the marathon was just a training distance, an afterthought. Yes, I PR'd a few more times at the marathon distance, getting down to 2:49 at the end of 2008, but I categorized myself as an ultrarunner. That is where my heart was.

I got into ultrarunning because I wanted to get away from my running being dictated by time, pace, and the constant pursuit of PRs. I didn't get into running for that reason and I didn't want to cultivate that part of my running. I run because I like to challenge myself, I like the adventure, I like the journey. Ultrarunning is a great way to explore those aspects. I hadn't ever considered that I could race marathons hard and retain that. I entered last year with a bit of trepidation, scared that the marathon training and the pursuit of the OT qualifier would change me as a runner and not for the better. I didn't want to become type A about my training.

My first attempt at the qualifier at Houston didn't work out like I had hoped but it served as the perfect catalyst for more clearly understand myself as I pursued this goal. I realized that it had to be more to me than just pursuing a time goal; it had to be about the spirit of adventure of pursuing such a goal. I found a way to retain who I am as a runner and why I run.

Adventure: Can I battle through a 100k race 2 weeks after a DNF/food poisoning?

Go to the well, have the well be dry and keep going?

UROC 100k

Ultimately, last year was a great adventure and exploration of seeing what my body could do as I pointed it towards getting as fast as I could in the marathon. Last year was also an adventure because I did this and still ran four 100k races, set a Fastest Known Time at the Grand Canyon R2R2R with krissy and spent the better part of the summer training with and then pacing Nathan for Hardrock 100. I didn't just spend the year obsessing over January 14th and my progress towards that. I work best in short training cycles of 8-9 weeks and this year have discovered what really works for me in terms of developing as a runner. The adventure has been within, exploring what my body can do at the speed end of the spectrum instead of the endurance end. I have discovered some cool things along the way, such as my ability to run uphill has improved extremely though the amount of time I spend on the skill has drastically decreased. My endurance hasn't waned and I am starting to learn how to race a marathon, which is such a different feeling than an ultra. Instead of trying to stay comfortable for as long as possible, I am trying to figure out how to run "eyeballs out" for as long as I can. I have challenged myself to confront my limits and have been pleasantly surprised to find that I have only begun to scratch the surface. The past year has brought me to a place where I am unafraid to be who I am as a runner. I am a hybrid runner. I run on trails and roads, I run marathons and ultras. I love it all and have finally been able to empower myself to follow my heart in choosing races instead of trying to fit in or be someone I am not. Over the past year, I have stoked and cultivated my curiosity and sense of adventure. Nearly every race that I have succeeded at, I have toed the line with one thought "I have no idea how this will go". Run at 100k National Championship 3 weeks after making my OT qualifier? Adventure. Finishing UROC 100k two weeks after DNF at World 100k and food poisoning? A Journey. Race NYC marathon two weeks after deciding NOT to race JFK 50 miler and after a 35 mile training run? Curiosity.

I know have 3 days and 19 hours until I toe the line in Houston for the 2012 Olympic Trials. My recovery went quickly after NYC marathon, my month of December had some fantastic training, but it also had some really bad days and a cold lodged itself in my system last week that has yet to shake. It has been both good and bad, but that means I am back to the same place mentally: curious. I have been through the thought process of what a bad race would mean, I have shredded up time goals and ideas of what pace I might go out at. I am holding on to the sense of adventure and wondering, "what can I do with this race?" For me the most important part of any adventure is being present for it, soaking it all up and smiling through the obstacles that will undoubtable arrive. I don't think I have to state that I want to have a great race, I believe that is self evident. On Saturday I will race with curiosity, wonderment and a spirit of adventure, chasing after the best that I can be. I for one am excited to see what I discover.

500 miles done: 100 miles to go

2011-12-31T07:30:00.000-08:00

Christmas morning run. Photo by Peter Duyan.

Today is the last day of the year. And what a year has it been. I feel like this year has been a good one. I have experienced many different things, had fantastic adventures and accomplished more than I ever thought possible in such a short amount of time.

In the space of a year, I have transformed myself as both a runner and as a business person. Whereas in 2010, I focused on 100 milers and trail more, 2011 had me pursuing the Olympic dream and seeing what I could transform myself into the marathon. It has been quite and experience and I am able to now fully understand who I am as a runner and who I want to continue to be. I am not just an ultrarunner, I am not just a marathoner. I am not just a trail runner, I am not just a road runner. I am all of it. This year I have found a way to balance all of my passions, push my limits, keep perspective and weave a common through line into all of my running: my love for it and enjoyment of it.

2011's big running shift was matched by an equally amazing shift in my business. In the course of less than a year, I went from nothing to having a personal cheffing business which I am not only proud of, but allows me to retain a wonderful work life balance while helping others to better health through the meals I provide. I am very blessed to work for some amazing individuals, who are not just good clients but interesting awesome people. This year I have taken my passion for food and made it a successful business and I cannot understate how empowering that is.

As this is published, I will be out for my final run of the year and my final long run before the Olympic trials in two weeks. This run will put me over 500 for the month of December which is my highest month total ever. My training has been good since NYC marathon and I have marveled at times how my body has been able to continue to adapt and learn throughout the course of the year.

With just two weeks to go before the Olympic Trials in Houston, I have about 100 miles to go until race day (cumulative running over two weeks of taper, 70 miles then 30). As any ultrarunner knows, a lot can happen over the course of 100 miles, but you put your faith in your preparation and hope for the best. In 100 miles, I will line up with the nations best and be as ready as I can be. And that is enough. It is enough for me to have come this far. It is enough for me to know that I will put every ounce of energy I have into that race to run the race of my life. This year has been one of digging down and seeking my potential. It is absolutely exhilarating to know that I can and will continue to make even more strides, even when I reach the finish line on January 14th.

Thanks for a great 2011! Cheers to another great year in 2012. Run happy and happy running!

View from Rock Springs on Mt. Tam