Pajama Run 2017

The Pajama Romp is a tradition for me: run Vermont 100 a week prior, destroy my body, and then run this 6 hour timed race a week later. The course is just over a mile (I think something like 1.27 miles) loop around Astoria Park. There are two hills, nothing crazy, but an opportunity for a walk break at the end. The race is scheduled 5pm-11pm, not my best time for running, but an interesting time for people watching.

I was not feeling that great, and it probably didn't help matters much that I did a tough core yoga class at 730am, and then Deep House Yoga at noon. Oh, and I rode my bike about 18 miles earlier in the day.

My plan was simple: run the first hour hard, and then see what I felt like. The first hour was hard and I ran quite well. I ran with Elliot, and then, he took off after an hour. I felt better at a slower pace.

But then I felt crappy. My plan was to try to catch up to a friend that I had lapped earlier and then walk and run with them....that never happened.

The last hour or so, Alicia caught up to me. She is a tough runner, and we had some nice chats.

The race was ridiculously hot with some random periods of rain. And then, the last few minutes, it began to rain harder.

After we heard the whistle, we headed back to tell our lap splits. I grabbed my stuff to change in the bathroom, and then found Wayne. It was pouring now. This sucked.

I asked Bomina to pick up my trophy and then hopped into the car to go home to take a hot shower and sleep.

TGNY 100k 2017

TGNY100 is something you have to do. The race is pretty legendary and once you run it, you realize how epic it is, and you’re a lifer.

I decided to just do the 100k. I had various reasons, but when it came down to it, I’m glad I did just the 100k. (Can we say chafing due to a pantiliner? Start crying now.)

The morning was overcast and not as hot as it has been lately, so perfect for a run. I started out having to pee, and this year, the McDonald’s in Times Square locked their bathroom. So at some early point in Central Park, I ducked into the bushes and peed. Lovely. And again.

I was running with different people, and then up close to the GWB, I spotted the port-a-potties I’ve used in the past. Okay,, NOW I WAS BETTER.

We ran through Van Cortlandt. Through Soundview Park in the Bronx, and others before it. When I looked at my watch and saw it was still morning, I smiled. How much had happened in my morning. How much there was to go.

I survived the Triboro Bridge, which is saying a lot. That bridge terrifies me. In Astoria, I fueled up and headed off….and it soon began to rain. A little, and then it was a steady drizzle. I was running with Carl from Texas, and it was kind of ridiculous. We’d look at each other and say, “Maybe it will stop soon, I think it’s clearing up….” and it would continue to pour.

At mile 50, Jen came along and I stopped to pee under a tree. The rain had mostly stopped by this point. But now, it was becoming quite clear how out of shape I was. And how bad the chafing was.

I began walking a lot more. Jen and I hung out, caught up. It was fun. It was like hanging out with a friend versus running a race.

Jen joined me in pigging out at aid stations, oversharing about our lives, and being a great friend.

I finished at 100k and was mixed at being done...but ultimately knew it was the best decision.

Quick Race Report: Sybil Luddington 50k!

I can't believe I have never run the Sybil Luddington 50k. It's runnable yet with some good hills (great opportunity for a nice break), scenic road route, most roads didn't have too many cars, the aid stations aren't overwhelming but have the necessities (water, gatorade, gingersnaps, pretzels, once for Esther, a beer!).

The story is, a teenage girl rode her horse to warn the Americans the British were coming....rode it 50k around a lake. "Paul Revere got more attention," a runner told me, "just because he was a man." No doubt.

This course was great training for Vermont 100. The hills were frequent, it was only 50k (so kickstart me back into ultra training) so that was good for me. 

I ran the entire race with Esther. We ran at a pretty chill place (walking when we wanted, though at times it felt tough), but I still was aware that I have a bit more work to do on getting into shape.

The weather was hotter than expected, and my stomach got sloshy super early so I couldn't drink as much water as I wanted. I backed off gels too and ended up not eating as much. While this is a great weight loss strategy in the non-running world, this meant I had less energy and couldn't run quite as good.

We finished under 6 hours, so we were pretty happy. I can't even recall what time, but oh well. After, a long wait for a friend to finish, a long drive, and then, some wonderful Mexican food with the one I love. It was a great day!

Conference House 6 Hour Race Report: Timed Races in the Freezing Cold Are Actually Fun

The Conference House 6 Hour Race was 32 miles of cold, sunshine, and friendship.  

I usually run a BUS race but whenever I can, but this time, I had my favorite yoga class that I teach: my Sunday Flow & Restore at Awakening. I usually include readings, meditation, sometimes pranayama - we open with short meditation, warmup, flow, and then totally melt into restorative poses. And I'll skip the class on occasion, but really didn't want to on this particular week. So I found this random 6 hour and signed up, despite having almost zero info.

I convinced my friend Jill to drive down from Rhode Island and run with me. She was struggling with a return/nonreturn to ultrarunning after a break (and ultimately, decided to take another break). I was worried about my tendon flaring up, and my training has been pretty minimal because of it.

NYC has been pretty mild this autumn. I've been biking everywhere and feeling pretty good about it. Of course, the weather plummets for the start of the race....

I got the start and realized, you idiot, the race is right on the water....which means crazy wind. Jill lent me a stinky windbreaker, which I was grateful for. 

The course was a two-mile loop, primarily easy trails.  The terrain was pretty easy - trails, but nothing technical, one baby hill. There were two port-a-potties next to the course, and we could easily leave drop bags. There were some pretty basic aid stations - they had M&Ms and kisses and pretzels (pretzels, that's all I really ever need) and I think clementines too. But I mainly had eyes for pretzels. They only had water in small bottles, which meant filling up your bottle was rather time-consuming (especially as it wasn't always readily available).

Nearly every time we ran through, the RD and timers would cheer us on. It was a really great feeling. One of the runners had the most amazing wife - she was out there, cheering us on, the entire time, with the kindest of words and a huge smile. The volunteers were great, and I felt like I was running in a small race of neighbors and friends.

The race started and I took off at a decent pace, not pushing too much, but not going too slow. I ended up chatting with this random guy, and we ended up spending the first 10 miles together. The pace was in the 8 minute range the entire time, and I felt good.

But I had decided I was going to run this one slow, for various reasons. I told Jill I'd run with her, and she tried to dissuade me. "I'm too slow. You won't want to run that slow." But I figured I'd run until I caught up with her (lapped) and then finish with her.

After 10 good miles, I passed her. I used the bathroom and then waited at the bottom of the little hill for her to reach me - and then it was like 22 miles of easy fun. 

Ultrarunning is more like hanging out with your friends sometimes than racing. Like, Jill and I could go out and drink wine and talk - but it was also pretty much the same as when we were running (except we complained about Jill's period and my stomach or whatever). Oh, and it was freezing, and I doubt I'd drink wine if I was freezing. Aren't you supposed to drink whiskey in the cold???

We finished. There were no partial loops, and we finished without enough time to go out and do another loop. That was fine. I got my plaque, I got my 50k coin (32 miles), and I got some pizza.

Jill and I headed back, and I questioned my sanity as to why I had avoided heat for the past six hours. But I felt so good - so amazing in that "this is why I love doing it" way.

Seven Times the Charm? Vermont 100: Cookies, Lightning, Hills, and Fun

Vermont 100 has become a tradition, a staple in my annual racing schedule. I skipped it one year, and I spent that entire weekend, jealous out of my mind with FOMO. A bit overwhelming.

And a mistake I won't make again!

The course is not that easy. While it's not technical like Hardrock, or with the altitude of Leadville, it has a lot of hills. A lot. Some sections have lovely nicknames like "Agony," and some hills seemingly go on forever. Like, "Are we ever going to get to Bill's? This hill never stops." My pacer last year pronounced it cruel.

But it's gorgeous. Meadows and hills and oh-so-scenic. Imagine you bought a calendar of Vermont. These vistas would make the pages. There are rolling hills and meadows and barns and silos and adorable cows and greenery and a section called "The Sound of Music Hills."

worship the oreo-choc chip cookie hybrid

And the food. I have never eaten better food at an ultra. Homemade cookies and grilled cheese and so many other things. I stuck mainly with my staples (gels, chews, those biscotti cookies Delta gives out (I found them on Amazon and bought them in bulk) and coconut waters) but went kind of crazy at Margaritaville (mile 58.5). I mean, maple coconut cookies and chocolate chip cookies baked ON TOP of Oreos. Please, just hand them all over.

Jen was excited to pace me, even though she had never run more than a marathon. She was really nervous, and I tried to explain, "Seriously, it's not a problem. The main things you need to be good at are making sure I don't get lost and keeping me awake."

She was stellar at both, and more.

This girl held my hand as I had a total breakdown - crying hysterically, thinking I was going to die and get struck by lightning. I went to the bathroom way too close to her far too many times (much to the delight of her adorable 4-year-old daughter. Oh, and by bathroom, I mean I squatted in the bushes or on a patch of dirt. I think I did use one port-a-potty, but they are few and far between.

at the start. i want to puke. i feel like i'm going to puke. omg. omg.

Jen and I drove up the day before. She's been through a bunch of major changes in the past year, and we talked abt them, and some changes I've been going through (You know, quitting a job I'd be at for ten years, re-discovering how awesome happiness is, studying yoga for four months while traveling around India, starting a new career of yoga teaching and freelance writing while trying to figure my life out.). She had never been to Vermont before, so I got to impress her with the amazingness of The Vermont Country Deli. (Those cookies in the front...just get one. No, get two. And also - the lemon blueberry tart. And the mac and cheese. And the sandwiches - get one on the marble rye. And the carrot cake. And the...and the everything.)

I had packed everything into drop bags a week earlier, so after getting lost (Another VT100 tradition for me.), I dumped off my drop bags, got my bib, greeted Amy (the awesome RD, and a fantastic elite ultrarunner in her own right), said hi to lots of friends. Then we found some friends front and center and sat down for the pre-race meeting. Rules and talking, and then dinner.

And then I got back to our adorable Airbnb (Fluffy free range chickens everywhere!!! I want to move to VT!), I discovered ALL of my gels were in my drop bags. I remembered finding a few extras that must've been with my first 20 miles stash. Jen hooked me up, and then I tried to go to bed at 8pm. 

That didn't happen.

Finally I fell asleep and then we got up at 230. I force fed myself half of a bagel, drank some smoothie, and then dragged Wayne out of bed. Jen seemed the most ready, and I felt like I was going to vomit.

But then I started. I settled into a rhythm pretty quickly and felt kinda decent.

I also knew I had no business shooting for the moon. But you try anyway, right? Because if you don't, well, what's the worth of living in mediocrity?

My training had been crappy. I didn't have a strong enough base from being in India in yoga-land (I often started meditating and chanting and asana at 6 or 7am, which meant I had to get my run in before...and there weren't too many safe places or enough sunlight for me to run enough.) and then dealing with my weak ankle...I had one 100k, an 18 miler, two 16 milers, and a handful of 13 milers. Ummmm, yeah.

But mentally, I was good. All this yoga has really settled me. I have never felt so mentally good. The miles flew away. I kept running. I walked some atrocious hills. I did what I could. I didn't feel bad when I knew I wasn't running as strong. I caught up with friends. I enjoyed the views. I ate tasty treats.

Jen was the best crew. She showed up at all the aid stations with so much energy. It really kept me going. (That, and the popsicles...."I want the red flavor." Not cherry, red.)

It was hot, but not too hot. I enjoyed the peacefulness of my mind, the beauty of the hills. I reflected on so many of the changes, and hydrated in between.

My feet were also in pretty good shape. Farm to Feet had offered me an ambassadorship, which meant free socks - but I have never had such good feet after a race. (Usually I am covered with blisters. This time - whew!)

And then somehow - I was back at Camp Ten Bear again. It was time to start running with Jen.

So glad Jen joined me at Camp Ten Bear my second time...just over 69 miles run!

We had a good time. We talked and laughed, told each other tales about our day.

It was dark just before Spirit of 76, and I was glad to get there. Wayne was there! Always a great pickup.

A few miles beyond, we picked up another runner at an aid station. Riley was only 21 and so full of good energy. We chatted as we ran.

And then the lightning began.

I am totally afraid of lightning. You can die it if hits you.

Riley and I were holding hands. We were both crying. I'm pretty sure if was not either of our finer moments in ultrarunning.

The rain began. In buckets. It sucked. I have not been wearing my glasses very long, and this was my first time racing in glasses (I only wear them at night). The rain was hitting them sideways. It sucked.

Bill's was a haven. I peed in the port-a-potty and then we didn't stay too long. It was kind of like carnage. Wayne never showed up (He got lost with the thunder and lightning.) and I figured he was asleep in the car.

When we took off, the rain had stopped. Everything was somewhat magical and dewy and beautiful. My hallucinations were intense and things were glowing and gorgeous. I could do this. I could do this.

And then I couldn't. The rain picked up. It drenched us. I fell apart. My hallucinations went from gorgeous pieces of art to scary things. I stopped looking off trail; there were too many scary things popping out that weren't really there.

Riley took off. I began almost falling asleep. The rain in my eyes. It was all too much.

The lightning. I was pretty sure we were going to die.

I got to Polly's, mile 94.5 or so. I didn't want to leave. I was shivering. They fed me warm plain noodles in water. I didn't want to leave. What? I figured I'd wait out the rain. (Bad tactic - it never stopped and I just wasted time.)

Then we left. More lightning. We were running through open fields, and I was pretty sure I would never go to Burning Man or do anything. I was going to get torched by lightning. (I somehow never thought Jen would; just me.)

But we made it. The trails became horrendously muddy and difficult and barely runable. I slogged. Mudfest.

And then, I saw the sign for a mile. I wanted to cry. It still felt so far.

Jen was there. We saw a huge hill. "Are you going to run this thing?"

"This course is eating me alive."

And we pushed. And we pushed and we pushed.

I finished. It was pretty miserable at the finish line, but Amy was super nice, giving hugs, buckles, amazing shorts (great schwag!) and then I had hot cocoa. 

The race was a big deal for me and Jen. She's never run further, and I never ran a 100 on such poor training. It pulled us closer together, we shared so much about ourselves, and I'm so glad she was there for me.

Wayne was there with hugs and rain jackets for both of us, and I am so grateful that even though life isn't perfect, he's always there to try to make it as good as possible.

And obviously...this will not be my last time at my fave 100 miler!

The end. See ya next year, VT100!

Post finish. Best hot cocoa. Seriously, it was a packet, but tasted divine.

All pics by the best pacer, Jen Cwiok! (except maybe Wayne took the ones of us together, but Jen was the photo director)

100 Miles of Running Misery and (Mis)Adventure and Fun: The Great New York 100 Mile Running Exposition

Starting line of class of 2015 TGNY - photo by the amazing Oh Snapper

I kind of have wanted to stop doing so many 100 milers. But not TGNY - it's in my city, all my friends are either running, pacing, or staffing an aid station, and it's the most awesome way to see NYC!

You run through Manhattan, the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and again, Manhattan. The course isn't super hilly - there are a few small hills, and some bridges (some so horrendously terrible that I want to cry just thinking of them...). You have to deal with traffic lights and cars and I almost got hit by cars too many times, and there are some arrows on the ground, but it's hard to tell which are TGNY 100's and which are ConEd's, so you're flipping through a turn-by-turn directional sheet and I only got lost six times. (SIX TIMES. HA!) You run through tons of awesome parks, different beaches, and see a diversity of people like nowhere else. NYC is my favorite city in the world, and thus, I adore this race.

Phil McCarthy is the RD - yeah, that Phil McCarthy, American record holder for 48 hours. Also, musician, super-nice guy. The race has a really homey vibe, and the volunteers go all out, buying tons of food for runners, decorating aid stations (Wayne put up my surfboard with TGNY 100 on it in green el-wire and his big kite up.), and so much love. I want to cry thinking of it (of the love and the pain, hahah).

Jill encouraged me to try the low FODMAP diet the day before the race to eliminate stomach problems. Unfortunately, it seems like the gluten free flours do not agree with me (not the first time I've had this happen....I ate gluten-free cookies a few years ago at a race and dry heaved for hours...). I live, I learn, I experiment.

I felt good, running with friends in the beginning, chatting. The pace was fine, I felt good. I grabbed a coffee cake to go from Mary's aid station at mile 5 (which saved me later on) and then, before mile 10, saw my friends peeling off from me. I ducked into the bathroom twice. How the hell was my race over before mile 10?

Early in the miles. My stomach had already started bothering me. Photo (c) by Oh Snapper.

I began slowing down. Eating was out of the question. I couldn't do this. In Van Cortlandt Park, Karen caught up to me and we began chatting. Then suddenly, I said, "I have to throw up." She said, "Do you--" "No." I was grateful she ran on, as I dry heaved, crying hysterically (I always cry when I throw up) into the bushes. I got up, walked a bit, and then began running slowly. Then I ducked into the bushes and was grateful I brought toilet paper.

Running sucks.

I ran on. I got slower. I would have to drop. There was no way I could finish this brutal thing. I texted my pacers something like, "Mile 16. My stomach sucks." And then I ran a bit, and then sat in a bench, holding my stomach. Shannon and his friend Chuck showed up. I got up and began running with them. Then we stopped so Chuck could get this few inch stick out of his shoe. 

Running with Shannon and Chuck was fun. They made me laugh a lot. Shannon told us abt showing up drunk at the start. I stopped and hula hooped with a bunch of fiftysomething ladies in the Bronx. It was fun.

We ended up getting separated in Orchard Beach. I was happy to reach Orchard Beach, and kind of wanted to take a photo, but didn't feel like taking my camera out. Anyway, cameras don't capture THE EMOTIONS which are the real thing, anyway.

And then, leaving the Orchard Beach Aid Station, I got lost for the first time. It took me probably around 15 minutes to figure out I was lost and to get back on track. I ended up running with a really nice 100k runner and her massive running posse. (She told me her name but I was a bit of a zombie and am lucky I remembered my own!) We ran through some more parks in the Bronx, and then, I lost them when I ran under the Deegan. You're running under the Deegan Expressway, with a highway on the right side of you and railyards on the left. Pretty ugly. I picked up the pace to get out of there.

And then - the Triboro bridge to Randall's Island. I ran across it, feeling okay. Randall's Island is mulberries and organized sports and quiet and green. It was really nice. But getting back on the Triboro Bridge to Queen was a different story. I began freaking out. 

Ever since I got my concussion two years ago, bridges have freaked me out. The morning after I got my concussion, I ran the Brooklyn Bridge and got the worst case of veritgo and was freaked out.  I removed the Brooklyn Bridge from my regular rotation. 

On the Triboro, I began okay, but once the side dropped lower I freaked out. I gripped onto the railing and said, "You can do this, Cherie. You know you can. C'mon..."

Two girls walked up behind me. "Are you okay?"

I realized they probably thought I was going to kill myself. "I'm really scared of this bridge. I don't know why. Can I walk w you?"

I walked with them, babbling nonsense; they were very lovely. Then, Jurgen ran up and grabbed my hand. "C'mon Cherie." We ran across, holding hands, me death-gripping his hand until I felt okay (aka off the scary bridge). Then we ran to the aid station where I saw my first pacer, Menachem.

Menachem watched me shovel in pretzels, a Girl Scout Cookie, and a half water-half red Gatorade drink. We took off, me babbling like I was on some sort of bizarre drug (which I wouldn't recommend this type of drug if it did exist...it would send people to insanity!) and then we began running. We quickly became lost, and again. Theme of the day.

My stomach was feeling better, and I ate some Hammer gels and Hammer solids. My calves hurt terribly and I told Menachem I wanted to stop. "No, you don't want to stop...Look at those bushes. I just love perfectly manicured bushes....Doesn't the sound of the highway next to us remind you of the ocean? It's lulling me..." and on. Menachem has a very soft, soothing voice, and I felt like I was going insane, so we were a great combination.

"I hate everything in the world."

"No, you do."

"Yes, I even hate Pistachio."

Menachem then texted my other pacers, "Cherie hates everything, even her cat." Haha.

We ran with Karen for a little bit. We ran, we walked, we talked, I babbled. I can't even tell you what we talked about. It might've been in German or Spanish. I'm not sure. I was pretty out of it.

Alley Pond Park was amazing. Soft, squishy path. It felt wonderful.

In Queens, you basically run from park to park to park to park. It's awesome. You probably didn't know there were so many parks in Queens. Then, finally, in one of the parks: MEG!!!!

Meg moved from LA back in September and has become one of my regular running partners. She's never done an ultra, but has a ton of great energy. I wanted to cry and somehow, she picked me up, emotionally threw me over her shoulder, and dragged me off. We began slogging ahead.

My calves were hurting so terribly. My stomach felt on and off. Everything sucked. I wanted to quit. Unfortunately, I sent Meg an email that told her to push me. She kept referencing this email. I'm glad I sent it, but oh, how I did want to quit.

Meg took this selfie of the two of us, and posted on FB, asking people to help motivate me

 We got to 100k and I was grateful. I ate a little and Trishul told me that I had 50% left when some girl tried to tell me I "only" had 38 miles. "The hardest part is the end." He also told me that he hear that I was struggling. Yes, I know. But not what I want to hear. Sigh.

We took off, Meg following the directions. Then we ran into another pace, Joe. I never met him before, but Facebook is a very wonderful thing sometimes. He ended up being totally awesome and an amazing pacer.

I got a strawberry Italian ice, which was wonderful. I went back and forth between wanting to quit and hating everything. Hey, that doesn't sound fun? Not really. I was a bit of a hot mess. Okay, I was a MASSIVE hot mess. Kind of embarrassing to be around a totally strange guy and a friend who had never seen me so low. Oops. They pushed me and Meg said, "You can make a decision to drop out when you get to Wayne." (Meg is a big liar, but I love her for that lie.)

At mile 66 or so, before the bridges, we got to Yuri's aid station. He gave me an intense massage which involved cracking my back and me screaming. Pedestrians called the police for torture. Kidding about that, but passerby peered out the windows of their cars to see what was going on. Apparently, several people were asking how much a massage was. Yuri told them the cost was running 66 miles.

We left. I did feel a ton better. I ran a bit, we walked less. Broad Channel is a strange place, but pretty beautiful. And then, somehow, we got to Wayne's aid station, mile 71. I was ecstatic. I began cheering before they got there, and Wayne and my friend Sherry both knew it was me and cheered for me.

I completely changed my outfit while eating pretzels. Okay, I ate a pretzel and a half, but I tried to convince Joe that was plenty.

Then we left. I was suffering. I was miserable. We ran. I whined. They put up w me. We stopped at some random bar to use the bathroom, and got yelled, "You don't speak English?" I really wanted to reply, "Hablo espanol solo."

I wanted to drop. But Joe was really mean and wanted to see the evil Marine Parkway Bridge. I got really freaked out and had to hold hands with Joe and Meg. My legs cramped up really bad and I just had a meltdown when I got off the bridge. I threw myself on the ground whining and moaning. At one point, I told Joe I would run if he could catch a nearby rabbit, which he tried, but rabbits being rabbits, are impossible to catch.

I slogged on. I felt like crap and was so negative, I know. I'm sorry Meg and Joe. You two were stars and I was sooooo miserable. 

We passed by more rabbits and I saw some lovely hallucinations, a la balloon strings like you see at Burning Man. 

I threw myself down on the ground and put my legs in the air because my calves Hurt. So. Freaking. Much. Then I put my legs down and was refusing to get up. Then I saw flashing lights. I sat up. It was a cop. 

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I just ran 77 miles and I hurt."

"Do you want some water?"

"No, I have water," I told him.

"She's fine," Meg assured him.

And then I got the hell up and slogged on. Could it be called a run at this point? A walk? No, a slog. A suffering slog.

By Plumb Beach, where Wayne goes kitesurfing, we met up with a random super nice guy, Izzy. He was nonstop cheerful and I was a bit cranky. But I somehow dragged my ass to 80, where Meg said I could decide to quit.

AS IF I WOULD QUIT WITH JUST 20 MILES TO GO. (Meg is pretty smart.)

Joe and Meg said they'd come if I wanted, but it had already been a long day for both of them, so I told them to do whatever they wanted. 

They left, and I took off with Pete, who also paced me last year. He didn't get me lost at all, was cheerful, and a great pacer. Izzy was with us at the start. I had to go to the bathroom, as my stomach hated me again. Fun fact: the bathrooms in Coney Island at the boardwalk are open. Hurrah!

We trucked on. Pete and I stopped in a gas station so I could get an iced tea. I have to say - that's the most bizarre thing about this race. You're running 100 miles but suddenly you pop into a deli, and then you start reading labels to find an iced tea sans high fructose corn syrup. Pete was patient with me, as all my pacers were. (They are probably talking to my parents and Wayne about locking me up now...)

The caffeine perked me up, and made me have to pee. So now I was stopping to pee every 15 minutes. Or so it seemed.

At 85 - I made it to 85!!! - we now headed to the Shore Parkway. And it was raining. Raining hard at times. I was wearing shoes w the toes cut out (to accommodate for swelling) and my socks became wet. The tape on my neuroma caused blisters, so I took it off - but too late. My blisters grew worse. I tried not to cry. 

I ran until the blisters hurt, then walked. We talked about UTMB, friends in the ultrarunning community and how they were doing, I don't even know. I was kind of out of it. At two points in the race, I saw people I know very well and looked right through them, a la zombie. (Sorry, Deanna and Mary.)

Brooklyn.

And then THE BRIDGE. Of course I was freaked out. But then - then - we were getting up there....

I loved once we got into the numbers. As we climbed higher, I got more and more excited....and then I heard cheering and saw the finish line.

Finish line. Me, awesome RD Phil McCarthy, and my awesome pacer Pete Priolo. I don't even remember Mon Ferrer taking this photo.

Gratitude.

For being finished. 

For Phil for putting on the race.

For my amazing pacers.

For Menachem for making me feel like I was someplace else.

For Meg who refusing to let me quit.

For Joe who didn't back down when things got tough, even though he didn't know me.

For Pete, who led me straight into another finisher's medal and was an amazing rock.

For the parks of NYC and all their glory.

For all the other runners for being so fun and nice.

For Wayne and Sherry for being my rock to get to - and every other aid station.

All the aid stations were awesome. They were staffed by my friends, who bought great amazing treats to share and were smiling. It was wonderful seeing them.

Birthday 50k!

Every June, I have a birthday. I find birthdays built up with hype, expectations, worry about getting older. Screw that.

Last year, I started a birthday tradition that I hope to be an annual affair. I'll run 50k around Manhattan. It's a fun way to get a good run in in my favorite city.

We met at 5am on 42nd and 1st Avenue in front of a playground. I was pretty excited, but also nervous to see how my foot helpd up - and it did. I encouraged people to wear pink, so we had a bunch of pink (three BRC 50k shirts!) shirts.

We ran south around Manhattan, picking up Cortney at the Williamsburg Bridge and Beth on the west side in Tribecca. We ran north, laughing. I learned about the Kardashians (apparently, there is a lot to learn!), joked about upcoming races, and basically, hung out while running.

Slowly, people peeled off, to head to work, and towards the end, it was just me, Rich, and Karen. We sat at Twin Donut, relaxing for a few minutes before heading downtown.

Karen had to go to work, then Rich had a business call, and I was running alone. It began to rain suddenly, misting, then a bit harder, and I ran with Julia for a mile or two.

I thought about getting older. I thought about 36 and what it should be. I thought about was I doing the right thing with my life. As I was finishing alone, instead of heading over to the 7 train, where I figured I'd be cold and wet on the subway, I headed towards the 59th Street Bridge, and ran home.

Getting older doesn't have the answers. Answers just kind of figure themselves out after a while. I'm going to keep on living in the way I love, running and finding myself out in that way, and keeping open to the options.

36, let's be a better year than 35!!!!

Baby I was BORN TO RUN ULTRAMARATHON: 60 Mile Race Report

Born to Run was a lot of fun. It was a weekend of camping, running, drinking, sharing, laughing, making new friends, hanging out, being dirty, mariachi, and fun.

Oh, and my Morton's Neuroma behaved. So it was a very good weekend.

My friends have described Born to Run "kind of like Burning Man" but I always like to point out there already is an ultramarathon there, HELLO. But what it does remind me of is those early entry days of Burning Man...when no one is there...you're setting your stuff up, getting ready for stuff, hanging out, drinking, eating, talking, making new friends....it was fun. I made a ton of new friends, had great conversations, shared food and drink, chatted, laughed, enjoyed the day.

The day before there was both an archery mile (shoot three times, do a penalty mini lap for anything you miss, run 400 meters, repeat three more times....) and a beer mile. There were live bands, a bola race (the traditional Tarahumara ball game), a fire at night, sharing of food, buying food, shopping at booths, fun.

Race day was fun. Luis wakes everyone up with a shot guy and super load mariachi music. It was a pretty great way to wake up. I usually only take 20-30 minutes to get ready, so I had a long time to have multiple port-a-potty visits, stretched, eat, nap....

Luis basically told us all to smash our Garmins. He doesn't want another North Face type race with newbies knocking over each other to race race race - he wants to create community, something that I'm really into w ultras. He was so irreverent I couldn't help but love him - but I could see how certain personality types would loathe him.

We took off. I began chatting with everyone around me, feeling pretty confident I was going too fast. OH WELL. I'm always a fan of bad ideas, fast starts, and kissing without questioning. (Hey, that got me into a 4.5 year relationship that turned out to be awesome!)

The course is made up of two 10 mile loops - the pink loop which is okay, and the yellow loop, which sucks and I kind of hate, but it does have gorgeous views, so okay, I'll run it again. There are lots of rolling hills, a few steeper hills, a horrendous downhill that I could not do the last time without death-gripping onto Paul's arm.....

It's not a technical course, and I ended up running in road shoes due to a shoe malfunction. I got pretty dirty, I hated the world, and I felt like I was waaaay out of shape at the finish. (My training has jumped way up since then!)

My stomach was good - I tried the low fodmap diet the day before, and drank what Kelsey called "Smooth Operator" tea, and I only ate Hammer gels and Hammer solids. (Seriously, a food that is called a Solid? How can that be good? But really, they're not bad at all!!!)

I had fun. It was gorgeous, the crowds were great, it was a party everywhere, even when the last lap totally sucked. I wish it had been a 50 miler. But when it was done, and I had Akabill's amulet around my neck, a burrito in my belly, and a cider in my hand....I had a huge smile on my face and was ecstatic that I had been part of such a great race, such a wonderful community, and such an amazing place on this earth.

I had wanted to drop down to the 30 miler, mainly to hang out with friends. Doing the 60 was something I kind of regret. When I mentioned my desire to Paul, he said, "No, please, you have to run the 60 with me!" Not knowing my pace or anything, but feeling bad because I pretty much talked him into running, I decided, yes, I'd run. And we ended up running together, having fun, singing The Sound of Music (though Paul really needs to work on the lyrics to "Doe a Deer")....so it worked out fine. But we missed the talent show, the wrestling, a lot of dancing, and when I finished, I was so cold and shot that I couldn't really enjoy the after party that much. It's a party. Go to run some, yes, but go to enjoy the awesome environment more.

I'm running the 30 next year.


you can see how lost paul and i were....how hardcore we were racing....

all photos by paul swanson

Umstead 50 (!!!!!!!!!!!!) Race Report

good friends on a nice run in the park

Umstead was to be my comeback race.

Comeback from injury.

Comeback from grief.

I didn't run exceptionally well - but I finished. My morton's neuroma was not really bothering me, except when I felt a few flashes of numbness towards the end, and I simply took some walk breaks. My stomach was off. (Port-a-potty queen!) I ran my slowest Umstead first-50 mile split ever, but WHO CARES? My morton's neuroma was okay!

A few days before the race, Tony and Ray began trying to egg me on to do the 100. I crazily pondered it, but did not. A few reasons:

1. I hadn't trained for a 100 miler. How much would it suck to run and recover if I hadn't trained? Bleh.
2. It was going down to 26 degrees F at night. Ummmmmmm, no.
3. I wanted to spend time with my sister and her family without being out-of-my-mind exhausted. 
4. I was afraid that I could hurt myself. I was really nervous that 50 miles might be doable, but 100 could destroy me. I knew this could be the case, so I stopped at 50.

I began the race in good spirits - I had so many friends that I was chaotically running around like a maniac while saying hi while trying to find moleskin while arranging my stuff while catching up...

Umstead is a 12.5 mile loop course - rolling hills on carriage trails. The hills seem easy the first loop or two, and then, by the end, you are cursing the park. Unfortunately, the temperatures were the coldest I have ever experienced there, and this definitely impacted the runners. The aid stations are well-stocked and the volunteers super friendly.

And then we were off! I began running with Tony and immediately knew I was out of my league. I have only been running slow and short since, ohhhhhh December. And slow like, 10-12 min mile slow. Ha.

But I stuck with him. We had fun, chatting, gossiping, catching up.

On the 3rd lap, I began to feel dizzy and just crap. I told Tony to go ahead; I needed to walk. We were pretty close for a while, but I took my time, stopping to pee, and then, my stomach began to fall apart (I really need to figure this out). I spent some quality time in the port-a-potties over the next two laps.

My sister came around mile 44, and that was nice. I ate some animal crackers and chatted with her.

just behind tony through the chute

As I got closer to the finish, I could ALMOST feel the weirdness w my neuromas...and began walking more. No pain, but that *feeling* that's hard to describe. Walking was fine. I wasn't in a rush.

I finished. 9:38:38. My slowest Umstead, but my neuromas were okay. That was all that mattered! This was huge!

I hung out with some friends, drinking amazing hot cocoa that Brandi made for Bruce and I, and then began to cough. My asthma was not happy. I hopped in my car, and began the perilous drive on the course. I luckily hit no runners, and got to cheer on the friends I had wanted to stay to see in at 50 miles.

Then I got to my sister's, played with her kids, and spent the rest of the time eating, chilling, and snuggling. It was a different Umstead, and a fun one.

Dick Collins 50 Miler 2014: Hills, Madelines, and Super Nice People

I was pretty excited to run the Dick Collins 50 Miler. I hadn't run a 50 miler in quite a while, since May at Bear Mountain (which is so tough and technical it's more like a 75 miler than a 50, ugh). I had PRd on this course, so was hopeful, even though it was 2 weeks since Hinson 24 hour, and 3 weeks since North Coast 24 hour. Ouch. I felt it.

I started out, pretty excited and happy to run! It was so pretty. I was chatting up a storm with everyone around me, pointing out all of the pretty views. The course is just jaw-dropping, and oh yeah, this is totally normal for California and everyone stares at you like you are an alien when you scream, "OMG LOOK AT THAT VIEW," and they say, "That looks like everywhere out here. What is wrong with you?" Ooops. New Yorker.

There's a different vibe to running out in California; there's history. I mean, GORDY was in the race. Swoon. Gordy, the father of ultrarunning. People said, "Western," and they meant Western States. OBVIOUSLY. Everyone was amazed I came out for this race, but I told them they shouldn't be. It's an awesome race, beautiful, AND very importantly, the day before San Francisco's Burning Man Decompression.

The course is not easy but beautiful. Lots of ups and downs. I kept saying, "I don't remember the course being this hard!" Up and down, more ups than downs, it seems, but as the course was pretty much out and back, you know it really wasn't. My hamstrings felt DESTROYED. I kept stopping to stretch. They hurt so terribly.

I saw an old ultrarunning friend Steve, who was working an aid station while he was injured. He didn't mind the sweaty hug. 

I'll admit; the food at the aid stations weren't quite as good when Ann Trason was RD. I basically ran a 50 mile all-you-can-eat buffet when she was RD. This was still quite good - grilled cheese at the turnaround, yay. They had these little packages of madelines, and given that I adore madelines and bake them, I ate approximtaely 400. Well, not that many, but I couldn't stop eating them and had to restrict myself. I knew I wasn't burning that many calories, ha.

I pulled it into the finish, way slower than I thought and hoped. Blisters, soreness, but I was okay. I was disappointed, but I guess my legs are just too slow right now. Sigh. Oh well. Next year, I'll be fresher!

And yes, next year, I'll be back.

We got pretty good schwag - tshirts, wine glasses, little reusable backpacks, fleeces. The post-race BBQ was nice, the volunteers friendly, and I'll def be back! See you next year on the trails!

Hinson Lake 24 Hour Race Report (2014): It Was Awful, But an Awful Lot of Fun

                Hinson Lake 24 Hour Race has a special spot in my heart: it was my first 24 hour race (which I won the first time) and really turned me on to 24 hour races. No matter your finishing results, you get to run with and meet and chat with a ton of different awesome people at all sorts of paces. SO MUCH FUN!

                I knew going into this race that I wouldn’t run my best, as I had run 105 miles the week before at The North Coast 24 Hour National Championships, but hoped since I hadn’t PR’d, maybe my legs would be decent, good enough for 100+ miles? Not exactly. My legs were tired, and a stressful week of work, plus not enough sleep, plus lots of other things going on in my head did not leave me well-rested. I took a nap the day before and literally had to pull over 20 minutes from the start of Hinson to stretch because I was too exhausted to keep driving. Not a good sign, but remember, I don’t often pay attention to bad signs. Sigh.       

                Hinson Lake is an awesome 24 hour race – the fee is $24 and you get a tshirt, bumper sticker, pint glass (Good because Wayne and I are always breaking the ones we have!), and food, and 24 hours of running fun! The company is great – I love all of the runners and end up chatting with tons of great people. The course is a 1.56 mile loop around the lake – it’s pretty, there are some small rolling hills, but it’s mainly flat on dirt, sand, and boardwalk. There are tons of tents along the course and fun signs.

                At the start, I took off, chattering and laughing, enjoying and remembering the course. What a beautiful day. Soon enough, my pace slowed to 9:20s, which is definitely not terrible, but I usually go out a bit faster, with less effort. These 9:20s felt tough. Oh no.

                “My legs feel so tired,” I told Shannon. We ran together for a while, and she seemed strong at times, but she ended up not having a good day either and dropped. I was very sad to see her go. My legs were feeling tired before 2 hours.

                I ran with Jonathan Savage, who told me about his brown recluse spider bite and his recovery. He promised his wife to only run 50 miles, and only that much if he felt okay. He ended up quitting at 50 miles, feeling good. We talked about stress and how it impacts running. Talking always helps, and talking while running is the best. If only I could find a therapist who wanted to go on long runs with me…I would have no problems, I’m convinced.

                I reached the marathon in under 5 hours and the 50k in under 6 hours. Compare this to last weekend’s 24 hour (with the marathon in 4:10, 50k in 5:05). I knew it would be a bad day.

                I talked to Ray. He was weary, still. Running for 52 days straight from 6a.m. to midnight on concrete will do that to you.

                I hung out with Kelley, I hung out with Joe, I chilled with lots of amazing people. It was fun.

                I had my set up of various bags next to Brett. Brett’s dad was 100% awesome and his name was Wayne. He called me “babe” and was sweet, hilarious, helpful, and nice. Brett ended up taking a 3 hour nap.

                After it got dark, I just crashed. I curled up on the air mattress Wayne had set up with Wayne’s sleeping bag and passed out. I got up, and slowly began running. My blistered feet felt better, and my legs were still tired, but I could do this. I knew 100 miles would be almost impossible.

                I took a 5 hour energy shot. I ran with music. I danced while I ran. I chatted. I walked Mount Hinson, that giant mountain they put on the course. I napped in a chair. I got up and ran more.

                About two and a half hours from the finish, Rich and I began running together.

                He gave me a red bull and we talked each other’s ears off. We mostly ran, but we’d walk Mount Hinson.  I don’t remember what we talked about – dissolving marriages and cupcakes and blisters and this race and that race and oh this race and yeah that race. I ate a lot of pink cupcakes.

                Oh, the food. This year I ate homemade cookies and pizza that I took the cheese off of and animal crackers and cheese its and lots and lots of pink frosted cupcakes. Oh, how delicious it all tasted. At least my stomach was awesome! Yay!

                I ended up with 94.6 miles, or 93.6, something like that. Ugh. Depressing. So close, yet so far. And I still know that’s a pretty awesome effort – esp since I ran a 24 hour last weekend.

                My legs felt tired and my body was exhausted. Stress has been seeping in everywhere lately – it sucks. My blisters were out of control – I stopped to cut moleskin and cover them, but they were a horrendous mess and I think I scared my little sister when she saw me popping them afterwards. Yum.

                So Hinson? Not my best race. Nope. Not this year. But fun –yes. Lots and lots and lots of fun.

                I WILL BE BACK FOR SURE NEXT YEAR. I hope there will be pink frosted cupcakes!