Why I Didn't Run the Ultra Caballo Blanco

I'm going to write a longer blog post about the UCB and traveling to the Copper Canyon for one of the most unique experiences ever......but this post is dedicated to why I didn't run it.

In the days preceding the race, drug cartel violence erupted. I have read multiple news articles in Spanish and in English, and all of them say slightly different things. Basically, we don't know exactly what happened, but some people were murdered. Some were kidnapped. People heard gunfire.

The race directors chose to cancel the race. It was for a variety of reasons: security issues (obviously), course changes, and this was a race of love and community and peace, and would it not be run like this if it occurred. There might be other reasons too, that I don't know about, but these were the main reasons.

I flew to run the race because it was to be a pilgrimage. I love to travel, and the idea of this race has intrigued me since I read Born to Run many years ago. To run with the legendary Raramuri....wow. The trails were gorgeous, and I love running in pretty places. I also was excited about this race as a come-back race from my injury. Most importantly, it was to be a race to honor my Grandma Ann, who died at the age of 93 what would be exactly three weeks before the race.

But it was not to be. Some people chose to run anyway: "I came down here to run with the Raramuri, and I'm going to!" I did not. Here's why.

1. Safety. This was not "I might turn my ankle on this course" - it was, "I might die." I spent four days in Mexico City prior to come, some of my time which I spent talking with all my friends there about the drug cartels. (I also wrote a report about Mexico for work, and am quite familiar with the drug cartels and the horrific violence they exact on their opponents and innocent people.) My friends educated me about the government's link with the cartels, about the violence, about what has been going on. It scares the crap out of me. My friend Wendy explained that innocent people had been getting kidnapped (for ransom), express kidnapped, arrested, worse. I could potentially be in the wrong place at the wrong time and get in between cartel cross-fire, or, blonde gringa, could be seen as a nice person for a ransom kidnapping or express kidnapping. I want to live. No race is worth the cost of dying.
2. Lack of power in numbers. Most people were leaving the canyon. Why would I stay here when most people were leaving? The course would be more isolated, less people would be leaving when I'd be leaving....no. Leaving was the right decision. While there were Raramuri and Mexicans who stayed and ran, the number was definitely smaller than it was supposed to be.
3. Respect. I respect the RDs Maria and Josue. I am an RD myself, and it's always frustrating when someone is blatantly disrespectful. It's Burning Man for my race, so I try to be chill, but I do call out people who are cutting the course, dropping without telling volunteers, acting like a jerk. I want to show Maria and Josue the same respect given to me - and if that means following their directions and rules, yes, that is what I will do. And that is what any participant should do.

We still don't know the full story of what happened. We probably never will. I like to take risks and travel to foreign countries and go all over with my backpack and some books, but running a race where I was warned of safety issues is not something I'm willing to risk.

Further Reading:

• Will Violence End Ultra Caballo Blanco?
• La Guerra por la Sierra Tarahumara
• Eran Policias los Tres Calcinados en Urique
• Double Murder and Drug Violence Lead to Ultramarathon Cancellation 

Bear Mountain 50 Miler: No Matter What, It Eats You Alive

Bear Mountain. It's a tough place. Why the hell would anyone run an ultramarathon?

As Sir Edmund Hillary so-famously said, "Because it's there."

For the 5th time, I set out to run the North Face Endurance Challenge Bear Mountain 50 Miler. I had just run Lake Waramug 50 Miler the week before, but figured I'd probably be okay.

Hmmmm, that's to be debated.

This course is one of the toughest 50 milers out there. Steep uphills, impossible to run downhills (due to steepness and loose rocks), twists, turns, more uphills, rock gardens, rocks, rocks, more rocks, and just butt-kicking trails for 50 miles. Fun, right?

The North Face puts on a fairly basic race, with very basic aid stations, no frills. The volunteers are very nice, but some of them have never been to an ultra before. (We probably horrified them, shoveling M&Ms into our mouths with muddy hands while rubbing lube on ourselves....) The course is very pretty, and also, pretty tough.

I started out HARD. I suck on the technical, so I run hard where I can. While running the initial part, I quickly realized that um, I probably should have changed the batteries before the race. Ooops. So it was dark and that was a little tough.

Luckily, it got light quickly...

The course is tough enough as it is, but on Wednesday, it poured all day. I think it may have even rained some on Tuesday too, and even Thursday morning, but Wednesday, it just poured the entire day. I ran twice and both times it sucked. I literally have to change every article of clothing because I was soaked through, even through my rain jacket. Ugh. So the trails were basically mud puddles for 50 miles, with lots of streams too. The stream crossings that you can normally pop across with some careful positioning on rocks had submerged rocks. 

My feet were wet and muddy for 50 miles.

I changed my socks once and wish it could have been more. My feet felt horrid - I kept getting mud underneath the pads of my feet, and it hurt so terribly. My gaiters did nothing because the mud kept seeping in from the top. 

I was running pretty hard the first 10 miles and felt good. I sucked on the technical, but did what I could, and ran hard. At the second aid station, I got there, and was still ahead of mid-pack, and there were FOUR pretzels. Four. I ate three of them, as I was starving, but how could they be running out of food so early? Aid stations were running out of gels and all sorts of things. It sucked.

I was also hungry - really weird for me. Before 3 hours had passed, I had already eaten 4 gels - which is really weird for me, as I rarely have such a strong appetite running, esp for gels. This become problematic as I ran out of gels before my drop bag, and ended up eating a lot more solids than normal. But my tummy was mostly okay the entire race (good thing since they didn't seem to have any ginger ales).

I ran. I walked. I laughed. I breathed hard. I ate gels. I drank water. I looked at how gorgeous it was. I had fun.

The course had changed in a few spots, so that was a little confusing to me. I think it may actually have become easier.

The mud was hurting my feet. The front of my shin sometimes hurt. My back hurt from my water bottle waist belt. But it was fun. Why was I doing it? It was fun. I ran with so many of my friends, and got to chat with heaps of great people.

Clearly I am psycho to be posing like this just before the 50k. (photo (c)Kenneth Tom 2014)

Around 40, I felt okay. Not amazing, but okay. I set out from Anthony Wayne, crunching on those Delta cookies I saved from my last flight and pretzels. And then I began running. YES!!!!!!!!!!!

I picked up the pace, passed some people, ran with others, and chatted. I caught up to Melissa and we ran, chatting for a while. Then we got to that section where it's a ton of steep downhill with lots of loose rock. I noticed the front of my shin started hurting. Ouch. More than before. When I pulled into the pre-Timp Pass aid station, I let the medics ice me as I shoveled pretzels into my mouth. Then I left, refusing Ibuprofin as I had already taken Aleve. As I headed towards Timp Pass, which is the worst part of the course (You climb up a steep mountain and then back down, and running is pretty impossible w the steepness and loose rocks....), tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I tried to stop and stretch, and nothing would help.

The last five-ish miles were a death march. I was in agony. I stopped to rub, walked, ran when I could, and oh, was I in pain.

A mile before the finish, probably less, John Budge caught up w me. We finished again, so happy to see each other. As soon as I finished, I immediately went to the medical tent to get ice for my legs. And rest my weary feet....

Finishing again w John Budge. (Photo (c)Chip Tilden 2014)

It's Monday now. I begged my doctor to squeeze me in and despite resting for two days, I still had pain. They aren't sure if it's tendinitis or a stress fracture. An MRI tomorrow will determine that. Until then, I'm icing, resting it, and wearing a splint. And looking forward to the next time I will run, which will NOT be Bear Mountain.

Traprock 17k Race Report

While I really wanted to run the Traprock 50k, Ray told me it probably wasn't a good idea a week before Waramug. So I ran the 17k instead.

Steve and Kevin are great guys who I met running years ago at the West Hartford Reservoir. I love supporting their race, which is awesome - tough but fun course, great volunteers, nice aid stations, and pint glasses at the finish. The shirts were also great form-fitting tech long sleeved shirts with a nice design (which somehow is rare in ultrarunning). Yay, Steve and Goat!

I felt like an utter wimp as I arrived at the later 17k start; "I should be running the 50k," I muttered to myself. But I had Waramug a week later.

I was taking the run as a training run for Bear Mountain 50 Miler (in two short weeks, yay). I'm not a very good technical runner, so this would be good practice.

The course has a lot of rocks and roots and hills. There is a horrible section called "Stairway to Heaven" that is made up of a bunch of sometimes loose rock steps up way high. We all walked that in the back.

I ran happily. You start on a horrible uphill, and my asthma was on edge for the first few miles. I was cautious on the rocks, because I'm a terrible technical runner and a total wimp. Oh well.

I ran with an interesting guy who was training for a 100 mile paddleboard competition on the Hudson. I ended up picking up the pace at the aid station around mile 7 and lost him, sadly, because he was fun company. We were fascinating by what the other did (SUP and ultrarunner) so we chatted and asked questions and it was a nice time.

Around the mile 7 aid station, I finally felt like I was in my groove. It took a while. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............I picked it up - and then, somehow, was finished.

I had a fun time, met some nice people, and when it was over, got to go to Wayne's sweet friend's house and meet their new baby (and take a shower).

Great course, great race, nice weather, so much fun!

Iron Horse 100k: A Good, Painful Kick in the Butt

Tears. Pain. Suffering. Agony. Swollen feet. Sugar sand. Palm trees. Friendship. Getting lost.

And that sums up Iron Horse 100k!

I went into the race, thinking it would be my kick-my-butt-back-into-shape race. When I was in Colombia, I ran daily but minimally; I ran generally around an hour a day. I ran 90 minutes once or twice. Then I flew back into NYC winter of snow and ice and cold cold cold - so training was greatly reduced and miserable. Very sad.

I headed down to FL to visit my Gram, see some friends (Jessica & Chris) and help with a Chaos Cooking. 

As Jessica and I drove to the race, it began to downpour. I could barely see the road; I didn't want to run in it. Ugh. Luckily, the rain had stopped by the time we began running.

Jessica was to crew me and pace me at the end and chill out with the runners; she hadn't been running for a while so was looking for a bit of inspiration. Chris let me store my gear in his car during the race (so it wouldn't get soaked on should it downpour again) and was also the Medical Director of the IH100.

The course was different this year. You head out and run 1.75 miles on a paved bike path, then turn around. You arrive back at the start and run about 2 miles on the same paved bike path (but in the opposite direction) and then turn and head onto a sandy trail. Then you do two different lollypop loops in the woods, and then head back out on the sand trail to the paved path - and that is a total of 25 miles. If you do the 100k, you have a weird turnaround but everyone runs the same race.

The aid stations are pretty basic, the volunteers uber-polite high school kids ("Can I get you water, ma'am?" Ma'am? What?! I'm such a New Yorker.), the trail pretty and a little static scenery. It was a nice race; I did it last year and I wouldn't mind doing it again.

I started out feeling good. It was a little chilly, but not bad. I had arm warmers on, and a long sleeved tee that I took off after a few miles.

I felt good and then after around 20  miles, I was running with a girl named Megan in the 100 miler. We saw a pink ribbon on a tree on either side of a gap, so we assumed we entered and ran on in. After a while, we saw some other pink ribbons so figured we were on course. Not so. According to my watch, we ran over 2.22 miles extra. Ugh. It took us a while to figure it out, and the ribbons I saw were faded pink - so probably up from last year or another event. UGH.

After getting lost, despite having led the 100k that entire way, I felt mentally defeated. Being a lollypop course, I saw how many people had passed me in the time I got lost. My head was lost.

I really was miserable but Chris made me smile.

I got back to the start/finish in tears. Jessica and Chris cheered me up and I was pretty low. I headed out for another loop.

I started to perk up. This wasn't so bad. I'd pick it up. Maybe even get my 100k lead back if I really felt good? Unfortunately, I crashed into the second loop. I had my ipod in my pocket for "emergencies" such as this. I slipped my headphones into my ears as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

I ran. I stopped and stretched. I walked a baby hill. I stretched. I ate a gel. I ran, walked, stretched, cried.

And then Major Lazer came on with "Watch for This" and I began dancing. Why the hell not? My race was shot. Why not have fun? 

I came into the aid station again with just 12.5 miles. I asked Jessica to please pace me the entire rest of the way. "I'm run-walking. Please. You can keep up."

And she did. We talked, told stories, chatted about Burning Man, about running, love, families, work, life. The moon rose in the sky as we plodded on and I felt sick. Thank you, Port-a-Potty-Gods (or the RD, Chris) for placing a port-a-potty right by the aid station.

And then I stumbled into the finish. I was so relieved to be done. I think I was second woman? Another buckle (yep, this 100k gives you a buckle), some food, and of course, a mandatory stop at Dairy Queen.

What did I learn? I'm out of shape. I'm going to use the next few weeks to gear up, to train myself as hard as I can. Also, when it sucks, blast Major Lazer. And dance when you can't run.

Staten Island Trail Festival: Race Report: Cold, Muddy, and a Mud Bath to Boot!

I was going to fly out to San Francisco for the North Face 50 miler, but when I learned there was a race the same weekend in NYC, and I was traveling nearly every weekend prior, staying in town was a no brainer. Sign me up for the Staten Island Trail Festival! 50k please!

I headed out with some friends from my running club, all of whom were running the 25k. Beth and I planned on getting a ride home with someone running the 50k, unless he had to leave suddenly. Hmmm...we figured someone else from NYC would hopefully have room; if not, we could call Wayne and beg him or take a car service home. Oh, let's not worry about this during the race (okay, just a bit.), but just run.

The course consists of a 4 mile loop, then you do another big loop, and then repeat the second loop. Despite being Staten Island, there were some hills, lots and lots of mud, some pretty scenery. The aid stations were SUPER basic with bare bone minimum, but the volunteers were very friendly.

I started out feeling good, running with Matthew, who's a pretty tough runner, even when he's not even trying. We had fun chatting, catching up, laughing, telling stories. At one point, we began passing people who were behind us - seems like a bunch of people did a 3 mile loop instead of a 4 mile so...a little confusing but oh well.

After about 10 miles, we hit a hill and I decided to walk it and eat a gel. Matt kept running. He was in my sight for a long time and then he was not. I was bonking pretty bad; only gels don't sustain me and I wish I had packed mini bags of pretzels.

I got to the drop bag area and shoved a bunch of cookies in my mouth. I took off, walking it off, eating more animal crackers (I love bringing bags of animal crackers w me to races - they are carbs, a bit of sweetness, but plain enough to settle an upset stomach.). And then I began running. With strangers.

On a lollypop section, I saw Beth, Zandy, and Will were about a half mile behind me. "I want to run w you guys," I yelled. "Catch up w me."

I walked the hills, stretched, and ran. Eventually they caught up. We chatted, laughed, told stories. 

And then I fell in a pile of mud. Completely. Gloves, pants, shirt, skirt. UGH.

I finished, clearly muddified. But who cares? I was done. I put on warm clothes, and ate some brownies. Apparently, I was 1st in my age group. I didn't realize that until my friend told me later. Wooohooo! Let's eat. I was so cold and tired and hungry that I got home, hopped in a hot tub w Epsom salts and a sandwich. I ate and read and chilled in the tub. YAY.

Vermont 100 Miler: Still My Favourite Race, and LOTS of Grilled Cheese (And Even More Hills)

This is my favourite 100 miler. Oh Vermont 100, how I love you!

Friendly volunteers, great race organization, kick-ass fun aid stations with great selection of food, oh-so-beautiful, tons of access points for your crew.

This is my favourite race.

But it's not easy.

The course is a combination of dirt roads, some gravel roads, jeep roads, trails, and a little paved roads. This year, lots of rain led to the new addition of LOTS OF MUD. UGH. Oh well. Keeps things interesting, right?

This year, I was really excited because I had two amazingly eager and awesome crew members/pacers. Kristen (K.P.) has run a bunch of 50ks and Shane has never run an ultra, but they both were eager to see me dry heave and cry. They were an amazing team and I barely had to do anything at an aid station if they were there. 

You have to show up the day before for medical check (They weigh you and take your blood pressure.) and go to the pre-race meeting. I was a bundle of nerves. Post-meeting, Kristen and I headed to a random restaurant where we ate dinner and joked around. I sorted through all of my stuff and then had trouble falling asleep at 8pm. I finally fell asleep close to 10pm...and woke up at 2am.

When I woke up and began to get ready, I realized I had no running socks...except for the ones in my drop bags, which, you know, I had dropped off the night before. I had cotton ones with little hearts I had slept in the night before...so I started with those. Oh crap. Bad idea on a course with lots of mud....ugh.....

You start at 4am on a grassy field out onto some windy dirt roads that make this New Yorker panic with how tiny and windy they are (for driving, that is; for running, so fun!). It was a good fun excited crowd, everyone chatting, catching up, still having fun. I had forgotten my headamp, so I borrowed my pacer's (Kristen's) and it either needed a new battery or was just pretty weak because it wasn't too helpful.

The course is beautiful - but hilly. The worst part is mile 31-62. That is SO hard. It was way harder than the 50miler I just ran. Just lots of punishing ups and downs. 

I ran out pretty hard - looking at my Garmin, I see my first mile was 7:42. Wow. Lots of 8ish minute miles in the beginning. I was having FUN. It was beautiful, there were nice runners, and oh, how I loved it.

Mile 22.5 I got to see K.P. My feet were already soaked and muddy and I ran with her to the car and then I sat in the driver's seat and changed my socks. Ahhhhh....much better but I already had a blister. Not being a big blister person, I attribute a lot of it to the socks. And oh yeah, all the mud there was no way I could avoid running through.

I ran on. It was pretty, fun, I chatted with lots of people. My nutrition felt pretty good. Mile 26.2, I shouted, "We just ran a marathon! YAY!" And of course, kept going. Because this is an ultramarathon and we're too stupid to stop at 26.2.

I surprised myself to see my 50k split as 5:34. Pretty good, actually. I was hauling ass up the mountains. Push, push, push. I ate gels, my chewy shot blocs, and drank water. It wasn't that hot - it was SO incredibly humid.

Stage Road Aid Station was mile 31.4 and Shane was there for the first time and amazingly was in the role. Him and K.P. ran around, fetching me ice for my coconut water, feeding me gels, cleaning and lubing up my feet as I changed socks and shoes. They both seemed cheerful and I was sad to not see them until Camp Ten Bear.

And then, crap, wait, SHANE, KP - take ME WITH YOU! THE NEXT 30 MILES SUCK, PLEASE, PLEASE, Oh....they left....oh crap...I have to run this.

You run down the road (stuffing pretzels in your face if you're me) and then you go up this steep muddy (There goes those clean shoes....) trail, and it gets steeper, and steeper, and oh crap, this sucks, it's hot, it's humid.....

But then - oh my god - the meadows....most runners call it "The Sound of Music Meadows." It really looks like. I began singing it and this guy joined it. It was this beautiful harmony and we began running together, singing various songs from The Sound of Music. Unfortunately, I began getting a weird stitch in my stomach from running too fast downhill so I slowed down and let the songs live on in my head.

I love the covered bridge. I was so happy and then I was even happier to see my friend Tammy, who had just run Badwater. I shoveled some chewies in my mouth and ran on. To an uphill for 2 miles. That sucks. That is horrible. 

The entire time I felt like I was going to vomit. Horrible. I swallowed tears and pushed up but it sucked, sucked, sucked. I couldn't eat.

The aid stations felt further apart than ever before - but there are 29 aid stations so I know I was just wimping out. But seriously - did they make this course 200 miles instead of 100? It felt double as long....

Finally, shortly after 43, I started feeling less horrendous. I wasn't ready to eat anything, but my tummy didn't feel like I was going to vomit everywhere.

Help, get me out of here, this hurts...

Camp Ten Bear. Oh, glorious. I weighed in - SAME WEIGHT. Let's celebrate with a grilled cheese sandwich, coconut water on ice. I changed my socks and headed out on a nice jaunt. Wait, hills, what, I thought we were done. WHAT?

I ran with Keith Straw. I ran with Ironpete. I ran with strangers, new friends and old. I sang aloud. I sang in my head. I struggled with the hills.

Mile 50. Sub 10 hours. Not bad, not bad.

They slightly changed the aid stations this year - Seven Sees was a new one for crew. It began raining, and then pouring as Pete and I ran into the aid station. I moaned, "I don't wanna run. I hate the rain." I changed my running skirt; my liner was causing some horrendous chafing.

I put on a rain jacket; I ran out with Otto, who was having tummy troubles, and Pete. The rain stopped. I ran into Margaritaville, which sadly had no cookies but which of course was playing Jimmy Buffet's "Margaritaville." Shane brought me my sewing bag by accident which I had left in the back seat of the car and I teased them, "Look at this fabric; could I use this in a 100 miler?" I needed KP's industrial strength hospital grade lube and Shane screamed, "Lube, get the lube!" and KP ran to the car. I changed my soaked socks and drank more coconut water and ran on.

I ran with Keith Straw a little as we pulled into the next aid station. I kept having to pee but actually had trouble peeing - it took FOREVER. (See the Ultra List for my question and the answers, ha!) And then...wait....yes....CAMP TEN BEAR AGAIN!

I got weighed in and oh crap....I lost three pounds. Not a big deal but I needed to make sure I ate and drank lots. "My, you're looking skinny, Cherie," KP told me as I began to fully change my humid sweat-and-rain-soaked outfit for a brand new outfit. I stuck my tongue out, ate more of the more gourmet delicious grilled cheese, pulled on my headlamp, and set out with Shane.

I didn't know Shane that well, but of course, in true ultra style, we began blabbing away like we were BFFs soon. He seemed really intrigued with everything, and we talked about running, school, friends, growing up. The time flew, although the miles did not. I had such painful blisters and my feet were so swollen. Despite having changed my shoes to a half size bigger, my feet were nearly bursting out. I begged some volunteers for Ibuprofin and it helped a bit.

Spirit of 76. Shane and I got to see the lighting of the paper bags on the steps. It was SO pretty. I began screaming at how it was my favourite ever aid station and I ate some grilled cheese.

We left and 89 felt really far. Bill's Barn. We ran through windy trails and while Shane was completely normal, I saw monkeys in the trees. I didn't tell him how many hallucinations because to be frank, I didn't want to freak him out and I was kind of freaked out. Run forward. Run. Run. On his first introduction to an ultra - "Oh yeah, man, she was on crazy drugs. No one could act like that." Ha, I wish. At an aid station, I begged for morphine but no one heard me.

Bill's. I weighed in and I weighed 3 pounds more than my original weight - which was 6 pounds more than less than 19 miles earlier....ummmmm...that's kind of a lot. I told KP when I left and she burst out laughing.

I changed my socks at Bill's, said goodbye to Shane and I got up. Everything looked fuzzy and black. "Kristen, I need to walk," I said, unable to see the world clearly. I felt like I was on some sort of weird drugs. "Sure, Cherie." We walked. "Oh, this is the field I hallucinated in last year. That was a nice hallucination." "Sure, Cherie." And I saw a ghost and I saw...

The hills...OMG. Down hurt like up. Why was I going SO slow? WHY? WHY? I had been on pace for sub-20 and wtf is wrong with me? Why was I dragging slow? I might not even make sub-24. Push ahead...push ahead...OMG my blisters...my feet....dry heaving....ugh...so tired...energy shot...chew a shot bloc....what am I doing out here? Why does this hurt so much? Oh, this is pretty...wow, this is scary....I have to pee, ugh, it takes so long to pee...look at these roots...try to not face-plant...I wonder if I'll get home in time for Margaret and Joe's party...wonder where my other friends are, like Carlos and Hiroshi and oh my god, I don't even know anyone else's name anymore...that girl with a, her name starts with a letter...uh....why does this...ugh, it hurts...it was so fun earlier...at least it's not hot or cold. Kristen kept talking, complaining, gossiping, talking, I don't care. She told me the story of a messed up relationship, I told her one. 

Polly's. OH MY GOD. Shane was there and it was so nice to see him. 4.1 miles to go. OMG. YES!

I hobbled away, K.P and I running to the finish. It took forever. It was actually more like 41 miles there. I saw the gallons of water with glow sticks lit up close to the finish. And the signs that said "1 mile to go" and "1/2 mile to go" - that as per tradition, KP kicked for me.

The finish line. The finish line. THE FINISH LINE! I crossed it, SO happy. Far from my goal time, but sub 24. Best of all, I had fun. I saw pretty spots of Vermont. I sang with strangers. I made new friends. I had a blast. And you know what? ONLY ONE MORE VERMONT 100 UNTIL I GET MY 500 MILE BUCKLE. (And six more until I get my 1,000 mile buckle...)

Shane and KP had so much fun they are already planning next year...and decided they are going to take on another pacer/crew. Those interested in applying must follow through with a rigorous application process. 

Postscript: After Shane brought me a grilled cheese sandwich, we all collapsed in the car...and our car got stuck in the muddy field. Shane tried to push out the car, dig out the car, use bales of hay. KP got stuck in knee high mud. I hallucinated in the back seat and dreamed of taking a shower. In the end, a tractor pulled us out. It was a surreal end to a bizarre day.

North Face Endurance Challenge DC 50 Miler - Fun, And Why Not?

When corporations put on ultramarathons, well, you lose some of the specialness. You don’t get homemade cookies at aid stations, or medals that differ year to year (Hey, they got a good deal on medals years ago…and use the same exact medal for all of their races, regardless of distance.) and lots of newbies without a respect for the trails (I saw one dimwit actually toss his trash INTO the woods, you know, so it didn’t spoil the trail itself.). But still, it can be a fun race.

The temperatures were predicted to be in the 90s all week, so we were getting emails from The North Face reminding us too hydrate. Too bad they didn’t take the severity of the heat into consideration and stock their aid stations with lots of ice. I was a 50miler, and ran a fairly decent time, and still, I found the aid stations to be lacking ice. Cold (esp ice cold) water is absorbed faster than lukewarm water, and we really needed to be on top of hydration on a hot day like race day.

I started out in good spirits, running at a good clip, feeling fairly well. I was jockeying between 3^rd and 4^th woman for the first ten or so miles…and then my stomach began torturing me. I ran into the bushes, a portapotty, the bushes, the bushes. Oh, what fun. I subsisted on gels and Clif Shot Blocks (tropical bunch flavor, baby). A lot of the food tasted funny or was soggy w the humidity. Yuck. I don’t know why I’m picky when running ultras but I am.

The course consists of running about 2 miles, then doing a lollypop loop, then running out about 6.7 miles without aid stations (which was pretty hard in the afternoon to handle this section with just one bottle of water). Then you do this 7-ish mile loop three times. And then you run back that entire first section.

There’s dirt. Some rocks (inc where I smashed my foot really, really hard the first time – and I ended up taking it super duper easy the rest of the times bc my foot was absolutely throbbing). Some hills. Some heat. Some high grass. Some pretty views of the river.

Well-organized, yes. The special loving touches of an ultra, no. They ran out of ice, ran low on some goods. It seemed like those volunteering at aid stations and buying supplies had never run an ultra. I would get to an aid station and they would want me to fill my own bottle – which normally is fine but not usual but my hand is actually severely and painfully injured with awful tendintis – ouch – so I couldn’t open a bottle. I’d have to ask every time.

I had tummy problems, that smashing the foot problem. The heat wasn’t killing me – but around 42 or 43, I started feeling woozy…I knew it was the heat. I had seen people passing out and not responsive – so I consciously began to walk, dump water on my head, hoping to cool myself down.

I finished – 9:51, a better time than last year, not what I had wanted to do, but quite respectable given the circumstances.

Sweaty stinky mess, yes. And loads of fun. A lot of newbies who didn’t know to pick up their gu wrappers. But what a fun day regardless. Pretty and running is almost always fun.

Traprock 50k Race Report

It was SO much fun last year, I decided to do it again!

It was hilly, it was rocky, it was rooty. The RD is great - Steve Nelson - and the people are great, friendly, and fun.

I headed out, planning on running a relatively easy race. I had run a half marathon, then a 24 hour, then a 3 hour, and now this. And I had a 50miler scheduled the next weekend. 

I drove up with Scott, Glenn and Will, and had a fun ride. My boyfriend tried to make it like he was being nice in picking me up from the race. (Him: "I'll give you a ride home." Me: "But I have a ride home." Him: "I want to see you finish." (Note, he did not do this; he arrived almost an hour after picking me up.) The real reason - he wanted me to go to dinner at his parents'.)

I started out too hard, like an idiot with asthma, duh. You can't sprint straight up hills when you have asthma. I have to start races SLOW. The initial climb up sucks a lot, but whatever, you deal with it. Lots of rocks, roots, look down the entire time. Then you have a "Stairway to Heaven" section - where I couldn't remember the tune to this song as I climbed the rocky stairs so I had Eric Claptop "Tears in Heaven" in my head instead. Bizarre.

I met a really nice woman, Amy, from Long Island. We had some similar races, and quickly bonded, talking about work, life, running, the usuals. We ended up running much of the race together and finishing together. Woooohooo!

Run Long. Run Far. Get Lost. Have Fun.

I love runs without pressure. Without the need for anything to be accomplished other than have fun. 

Saturday's three hour was a lot of fun. I had some pain at times and had a fairly decent page, but nothing too crazy. Yes, I pushed hard at the end, but mostly, I figured I'd do whatever and life would be good. And best of all, I had a friend who believed in me and pushed me to win.

Yesterday, I headed up to Bear Mountain with Iliana, Georgia, JT, Beth, and Kristen. We had a little too much fun running, getting lost, looking at maps, hiking, eating pretzels, getting lost, laughing, getting lost...it was a good time. We planned on sticking together, having time on our feet, and having fun.

Sometimes, having fun is the most important thing.

Really, always it is.

Sleepy Hollow Half, Good Trail Run with Good Friends, and Being Sick

I run with Tony a lot. Sometimes, I'll even go as far to get up at 4am, hop on the first train upstate, just to run 10 miles with Tony on beautiful trails. Wayne thinks it's a bit much, but it's like hanging out with a friend, running, enjoying scenery (and complaining abt snow) and seeing deer. Not what I'd get in the city.

Tony mentioned the Sleepy Hollow Half Marathon, and I saw a sign for it on our run one day. He mentioned it again. And then Georgia mentioned wanting to do it, so yeah, I'll sign up. And then we got a crew, of the three of us plus Beth and Cortney.

Beth and Corntney and I hopped on a slightly-later-than-normal train and Tony picked us up at North White Plains. We debated over how many layers to run and ran nice and and easy to the race start with Georgia, who met us in the lot. We shivered at the start, waited in line for port-a-potties, and headed out on the run.

My plan was to run easy - have a steady pace. We kept a sub 8:30 pace (on average, some of the hills slowed us down at parts). Tony and I had a conversational pace, chatting, talking about races, friends, runs, etc. He kept saying "eh" and I kept teasing him that Ray Zahab was instilling some Canadian in him. I had just spent a week w my Canadian coworkers so their language was really floating around my head too.

Towards the end, my feet started hurting. I've been wrestling with some weird foot pains - primarily when I race on roads - and it kicked in around mile 9 or 10. Tears in my eyes. But whatever, we were just chilling, having fun.

We finished in 1:51 - not bad for chilling out, with lots of hills and too much wind.

Tony yelled at me for making him run too fast and then we had to hang around in the cold. We walked around the block and then by that point, met up with everyone else. We ran back, freezing cold, and quickly warmed up. We then warmed up with diner food.


The rest of the week, I've been soaking my feet and hoping my doctor's words about "you need to rest those dogs!" were wrong. I didn't have pain now, but what if - what if? The pain according to my doctor is an inflammation and I need to rest it. Sigh.

And I went into work Monday, not feeling great, but whatever. Finally I ended up leaving around 4pm, blowing off the planned errands. After a wretched commute and rain, I was miserable. I went to bed early and felt horrible in the morning, too horrible to even run a few miles. But I had to go to work! I had to! I ended up working for 2 hours, napping for three, working another 2. And today I feel better, but not heaps. Hopefully this time off from running means this was one kickass taper and I'm ready to KICK ASS Saturday at Operation Endurance!

I hope! I hope! I hope!

This Seems To Be My Life Lately....

Seis! TRAIL RUN

Mexico City seems like a highly unlikely place for good trail running – but after a friendly Ultralister reached out to me, I knew I’d find the jewels of trail running in Mexico.

Wendy, Alex, Scott (who is coincidentally a friend from NYC) and I headed to the trails. Wendy told me horror stories of Wasatch, but she kept saying how great it was. (When is it great, after you were speaking in tongues and puking and blacking out? Oh no, before, that’s great. J)

The run started at 9,000 something feet and basically mostly went up to 12,600 feet. My asthma felt a little bad at times – I had to use my inhaler two extra doses and I could feel it, especially as I climbed towards the very top.

Beautiful views – of volcanoes, pretty rocks. The trails were dirt and rocky at times, but not too bad. It was a really lovely place.

The downhill part was just great. Down, down, down, and not too technical. I had a blast going down.

And afterwards, Wendy and Alex heated up some vegetarian tamales and we sat in the garden with the cats in the sunshine, talking about running, eating, enjoying the day.

All before a 5pm flight back to the states!

Greenbelt 50k Race Report!

I LOVE RUNNING ONCE AGAIN!


I have had the first good race in say, a year and a half. Well, I had other good races, but this was the first race I'm supremely happy with!


I've run the Greenbelt Trail a bunch of times, but usually the southern (easier) part, mainly b/c it's easier to get to via trains and it's right by my aunt's. I wasn't trying to erase that horrible race that was the Bear Mountain 50 Miler last week, but was trying to run my own race - run however fast I wanted, take it easy if my asthma was acting up without anyone getting annoyed at me, just run my heart out. And I did.


My legs still were a tad tired from last week's race but were fresh enough to get my 3rd woman overall.


You start out on this annoying road out-and-back. But then you're on the trails, which are primarily single track with lots of rolling little hills. The hills aren't so putrid that you'd want to walk all of them, but you might walk some, especially the second loop. There's some rocks, sand, all sorts of fun stuff, even poison ivy if you're (un)lucky. I ran out pretty hard, to Mary yelling, "You're running too fast." The idea wasn't to race this race hardcore, but to see how much I could push myself on my tired legs. And I did a good job.


I found myself passing people, smiling, and feeling good. My hamstring felt a little sore, but my hammie behaved, so I ended up running fairly well. I dodged hikers and a boy scout troupe.


The weather was hot - it got to the upper 70s today. I ran in just a sports bra and running skirt and only had a handheld, which was fine, since the aid stations were so close. I didn't have enough food - only four gels, not even three of my chewy chompers, as I like to call any kind of chewy running snack. But I made it.


The course is two out and backs for the 50k, and one out and back for the 25kers. I got to see Mary, who unfortunately hurt her ankle, and Donald, and several awesome people from my running club were doing the 25k - Anna, who of course won it b/c she's just that awesome, Ken, Karen, and Tennessee. But besides seeing their beautiful smiles (and bloody knees), I saw everyone - multiple times, which was great for the spirits. Most everyone said, "Good job," or would tell me I was the third woman, that I was in the top twenty, etc. And of course, I would give them a wonderful response right back, "You look great" (though one guy told me, "I look anything but great." Poor soul.)


It was a lot of fun. Ups and downs and the heat. The road crossings suck (especially since it is a fact that Long Island drivers suck (I grew up there so I speak from experience) and most of them were driving way too fast) and sometimes it was incredibly difficult to cross a street. But overall, an absolute blast of a race. Besides the Burning Man 50k, which is really just dessert, this 5:55:08 is my fastest 50k time - and on MUCH harder trails. YAY!

What's in your hydration pack?

So I head out for a day on the trails - water, gus, some chewy chompers, maybe some pretzels or cookies if I'm getting fancy, endurolytes, tissues if I remember, maybe lipbalm. And I'm set - right?


Well, not exactly. Lately I feel like I am lacking with my equipment out on the trail. Iliana fell and bloodied her knee and broke her finger and I had nothing to help her. It struck me that I should carry more band-aids and duct tape for such incidents.


So I again reached out to the Ultra List and asked, what's in your pack? Here are some fantastic responses:

• 2nd skin, lighter, safety pin, rolled up garbage bags, lube, hand warmers, espresso bonk bars. --Lynnor
• Iodine, lighter, dryer lint (fire starter), compass, small flashlight, drum liner (poncho alternative), buff, phone. --Joe Lea
• Crazy glue, band-aids, whistle, moleskin, antiseptic. --Karen
• Alumninum blanket, fire steel, water proof matches, compass, whistle, bandana, huggies wipes, flare gun, rocket launcher, anthrax, bull horn, silver bullet, Victoria's Secret lip gloss. --Lisa Marlene (I'm pretty sure she was kidding about SOME of these!)
• Bandanna. --Micah Hoernig
• Matches in a baggie; a survival knife; pepper spray; sometimes borrow asp from a police friend; a baggie and baby wipes; KT tape; duct tape. --Deb
• Change of shirt & jacket; cell phone; cash. --Robert Self
• Epipen, duct tape, ankle support, pepper spray. --G
• Map of Frozen Head State Park. --Peter Frisk (hahaha Barkley Marathons!)

Some other things that are useful:

• Heat emergency blanket
• Ibuprofin
• Mini first aid kit
• Phone
• Water purification tablets/method

Long Run along the Thames

Yesterday, I aimed to run at least 24 miles.


Unfortunately, not for the first time, the weather ruined my run.


I've heard the expression, "There's no such thing as bad weather, there's only bad clothing." Whoever said that wasn't running in yesterday's condition.


I met up with ultra lister Paul Houston and we took the train to Oxford. We ran to the start of the Thames 100 Miler and watched the runners come in. Wow. They looked dead. Do I look that wretched after running 100 miles? Probably.


Then we ran along the path for nine miles or so - seeing various runners, cheering them on. They were startled at me, because they felt like crap having run over 90 miles and then there's this LOUD boisterous American girl. But they mostly seemed happy.

It was pouring rain during this time, but it was bearable. The trail was ridiculously muddy (poor Centurions!), and I kept slipping.


Then we took a side path and began running towards Oxford in a roundabout way. It sounded like it would be pretty, small villages and such.

But then it began snowing.


And snowing harder.


And windy.


And some icy sleet blowing in our faces.


And horrible.


I was soaked. I couldn't feel my feet, which is problematic after my frostbite last year. My gloves were soaked, I could barely carry my water bottle my hands were so cold. Finally, Paul said to me, "If we want to turn around..."


YES!


I have never been so cold. I was also feeling jetlagged, which has never happened. I felt spacey and dizzy and sick and terrible.

Running back, we ended up in a small town where we warmed up with hot cocoa. Paul bought us gloves and socks, which helped. It took me a while to feel normal (I felt like I was going to pass out for a while.) and get warm.


We hopped on the train back to London, chatting about upcoming races (Paul's training for a 95miler in Scotland), and ignoring the odd looks on our muddy attire.


A hot shower never felt so lovely!

Run in the Rockies!

To my East Coast Tri-State Ultrarunning Pals, a run in the Rockies means a run in Rockefeller State Park. I did have days in my life where running in the Rockies meant running in the Rocky Mountains where I, for two years, lived (ahhhh, the Naropa Boulder days...), but this is quite different.

Rockefeller State Park is a nice place to run trails - they're all carriage trails, so nothing too technical, though if you're like me, you'll end up with small stones in your shoes (and a bee, as Tony once witnessed during a flailing, screaming, shoe-kicking incident at the end of a way-too-long run last summer). There's a bunch of hills that I did repeats (7x this one horrible hill today), hills that Tony makes me run hard up, and lots of gentle ups and downs. Great training b/c unlike Bear Mountain where you end up hiking because you are climbing essentially, mountains, most of these hills are runnable unless you choose this time to pull out your phone to look at your Google map to see where the hell an exit to this park may be.

But I digress.

A great thing about this park is you can get here via public transport. You can go via a ride to the Pleasantville train station following these directions; however, it's almost 3 miles and I have never run that way. The plus of going that way is you enter by the main entrance of the park, which is where the bathrooms are (Sometimes, you just don't want to find a tree, and there are some parts in the Rockies were trees are not as common as you'd like!), plus water fountains (that might only be on in the summer) and a soda/other beverage machine (I think they have water and vitamin water too!). I know these trails best and also, you're close to the lake which is a cute 2 or so mile run around.

Today I went via the Tarrytown Train Station, where the trains seem to run more often. And it's less time running on the roads - 1.4 miles! I use these directions, but my play-by-play might help you more. I run up the hill behind the train station, up this street called Franklin. (If you get lost, ask anyone how you can run to Broadway.) When I get to Broadway, I hit a left and run down for a bit, past the cute little town of Tarrytown (good Greek place on your left, should you be hungry on the way back) and past all the official looking buildings and past the high school. You'll make a right just after you pass the Horseman Diner and head up the steep 448 - and then you'll make a left onto the OCA (Old Croton Aqueduct Trail). You run down this for a little while - at one point, the trail disappears but keep going past houses in the general direction and you'll end up back on it - and when you see trails on your right, go that way - those are the Rockies!

Other nice things about this park - you can park for free at the high school across from the OCA entrance (or sometimes!) and if you get to the main lot of the Rockies it's free before 8am, I think. If you come up via train, you can hide a gallon of water and change of clothes/etc in the woods, as I have done before. Mostly, I love it because it's pretty, you can run by Stone Barns and see the super cute pigs and cows and animals (Vegetarian Cherie doesn't think of eating these!), deer!, flowers, the hills are manageable but still push you, you see people but not so many.

I love the Rockies! Training for Santa Barbara 100 Miler in April followed three weeks later by Bear Mountain 50 Miler - I'll be training here for the long faster runs.

Care to join?

For the Beauty of It

I sign up for ultras based on the beauty of the course. Likewise, Killian Jornet embodies the beauty of an ultrarunner on these amazingly gorgeous trails in these videos.

It's 99...I'm either at the beach or on the trails...

When it's 99 degrees, I could only be in one of two places: the beach or the trails. Most people are shut away in their AC and either way, I'm embracing the heat.

Yesterday was the beach, today was a long trail day with Mary and Erin. We headed to Wawaywanda in NJ, where we ran the Appalachian Trail. We were pouring sweat, tripping on rocks, feeling like crap, getting Italian Ices from a biker convention/party/rally/whatever, sharing secrets, dripping sweat, stinking, eating food not fit for human consumption, dreaming of cold water, dripping sweat, running on those planks that are oh-so-wobbly...


And really, it was much better than sitting inside of an air conditioned apartment...

Pineland Farms 50 Miler - Sunday!

I'm really not sure how I'll do this Sunday at the Pineland Farms 50 Miler - I'm pretty excited, as I originally was going to be in Austin for Flipside or to visit a close friend from back-in-the-day in Mexico...but then I skipped 48 hours at the Fair for the Bear Mountain 50 Miler, so I'm running.

I'm hoping for a PR. I'm hoping for a beautiful day. I've heard rave reviews from friends on the course - rolling hills, yes, but beautiful, and not technical. PR-worthy? That's what I hope.

There will be good people running - Tony, maybe Tursi, Bekkie and Joe. I'm going to push as hard as I can and see what I'm made of...that's what every day is all about.

My Favourite Distance: Bear Mountain 50 Miler Race Report

Ah, the Bear Mountain 50 Miler.

First off – I had fun. A lot of fun. In fact, this was one of the most fun races I’ve had. (Most fun, of course, was the Burning Man Ultramarathon!)

Second – I did PR, but not by as much as I wanted. Still, a course PR is a course PR! (And this includes getting lost twice, helped two fallen runners...)

Bear Mountain. It’s rough. It’s tough. It’s technical. (For those who may not know – technical generally refers to trails w/ lots of rocks, roots, streams, and other trippable items.) It’s hilly.

It’s also gorgeous. The trees were in bloom – white and pink flowers of different kinds. SO much green. And water – a lot of creek crossings, and forget trying to keep your feet dry. And climbs that give you amazing views – breathtaking. And those downhills...just amazing.

The weather was perfect. It was chilly at the start, and I began in a long-sleeved t-shirt, running skirt, and of course, my gaiters. A lot of others not wearing gaiters stopped to empty their shoes out, so I'm really glad I wore them. Plus, they were pink, as was my whole outfit, and I try to be colour-coordinated when I run. Always pink.

Within a few miles, I was sweating and left my long-sleeved t-shirt and headlamp (which I forgot, thanks, Scott, for lending) at my drop bag at Anthony Wayne Aid Station. And kept pushing.

The course was mostly very well-marked. Between the second and third aid stations, the ribbons were sparsely placed (and thus, I got lost, with four guys from the U.S. Coast Guard on my heels...) - apparently, there was some course marker vandalism the day before, though the course was mostly well-marked. I especially liked towards the end, when Nelson wrote little messages on the arrows for me, "This way, Cherie!" "Go Cherie!" Nelson marked the course

Early on, Johnny Rodriguez caught up to me. We have a running joke (haha, I just realized the pun after, not intended!) about how he's my ultra fiancee (I can't remember how this started exactly - he is actually married so it's more of a jokey thing) and we set our "wedding" - Mile 75 of the H.U.R.T. 100. And then we'll get divorced at the finish line. We ran together, talking a lot, laughing, swapping stories.

People sometimes seem surprised when I tell them that I talk during ultras. It's not a super fast sprint, so we have plenty of time to talk about races, our crazy families, our love life, our dreams, that sort of thing. It's funny but on the trails I sometimes feel very comfortable letting all my emotions spill out. I guess it's because on the trails, I'm the rawer, purer version of Cherie.

Johnny and I chatted a lot, helping runners in trouble - giving gu, electrolyte pills, checking in with people who were struggling. A lot of those on the trails were newbies (The North Face markets the race well, but those who race don't always train well.), so we offered whatever advice we could. He fell behind after we checked in with another struggling runner and I pushed on.

I ran with a guy in just Vibrams and shorts for a while, from Cobble Hill. We chatted about running, about Vibrams, our training. I told him about ultras I ran. He freaked when I apparently almost stepped on a snake (which I'm glad I didn't see or step on).

I kept on. 

At Mile 27ish, I was super excited to see Iliana who was yelling at me about electrolytes, gu, getting me to eat/drink/do everything. I hugged her and was so happy to see her. Having a friend out there is always amazing. Speed burst! I left her, noshing on the organic vanilla animal crackers as I sped down a hill.

I began talking to a guy who remembered me from Umstead, and a super nice woman...who very shortly after, tripped and completely face-planted. Her adrenalin didn't let her realize she was so hurt, and both Dave and I were worried. Two other runners came along, and stopped, offering help. Three more runners came, one of whom was a paramedic from Montreal, and she said that Sue shouldn't finish. "She needs...I don't know the word in English." Stitches. Yes. On her forehead, nose, and perhaps lip/chin. She chipped a tooth. Her face was covered in blood. She was still smiling.

(In a marathon, would this happen? Seven people stop to help someone they don't know very well? Probably not. And this is why I love ultras.)

We all took off. The French Canadians and I ran together, chatting a little. They encouraged me to do the Ultimate XC, which I want to do but think it's going to be too crazy with my racing/work traveling schedule. They got a little ahead of me...and then Rachel (the paramedic) tripped. I stopped with her, checking in and she was hurting. Bad. She did end up finishing, though, with bruises and cuts all over.

And I ran alone. It was fine: the words were dark and deep, yes, Robert Frost, but beautiful. Pretty flowers. Lots of green. Creek crossings occasionally. Hills. Rocks. Lots of rocks. And I sang: alone in the forest, I opened my mouth and sang. And felt great.

I heard a hissing in the grass - a snake, probably - and I screamed like hell and let the adrenalin carry me fast, faster, fastest!

Mile 27-40ish were my favourite miles - lots of runnable portions, great fun. I felt so alive, so happy.

My armpits started chafing (ugh, need to put body glide AND deodorant in my armpits, apparently), so I took off my shirt and ran in my black sports bra, which messed up my pink colour theme. Argh!

At Mile 40, I met up with friend, teammate, Mary, who offered to pace me. She was great. She was wearing extremely bright colours, full of tons of energy. We got in all sorts of discussions, about a lot of things I can't post on my blog in case my mom decides to read this. She also pushed me, encouraged me to eat, and ran back to get my water bottle (going up two hills!) when I forgot it at the final aid station.

Around Mile 45 or 46, you hit Timp Pass. This sucks, but doesn't suck as much as it did last time. I was tired. My legs were heavy. I tried to move but it wasn't working. Still, I passed some people. I think one person passed me the last ten miles; we passed people. I was feeling strong.

And we got closer. The last ten miles are quite runnable, with just a few hills to torture you. My legs felt like jelly. "Mary, I feel like I'm sprinting," I joked, and that's what it felt like. She was super encouraging.

And I ran in. Nelson handed me a purple flower right before I crossed the finish line, and it felt so victorious!

I didn't PR as much as I wanted, but I did. And I had a lot of fun. The weather was perfect (well, a little hot, but I'll try to not complain!) It was beautiful. It only rained for a few minutes. I'm getting better at technical running. I hung out with good friends. It was an awesome race...

...and yeah, I'll be back next year!