15 September 2009
13 September 2009
greener grass
my mother and her friends have taken to romanticizing my life. "we wish we did what you did...graduate school, live on our own in the city, travel, go out, do whatever we pleased." it's really not that great - but i still think it's the best option for me.
i don't always want to be like this. sometimes, i hate struggling, living in nyc on a nonprofit salary, not having the means to save up for a house, in relationship turmoil...i think of my little sister, who had her long island fairytale wedding and is living in a house with her two cats and her doctor husband and feel a twinge of jealousy of how stable and easy and how american dream her life must be...but things aren't always as they appear, especially below the surface.
coming back from burning man, a week of absolute freedom ("can you believe it? no one knows freedom. all those people in russia and london and all across the states and everywhere in the entire world - none of them knows freedom," said a guy from santa rosa to me whose camp i stopped by at burning man.), of being able to be who i completely am without any restrictions - i suddenly am in my smushed apt, trying to figure out what's next. i'm thinking clearing some of the crap out of my apartment, out of my life, repainting, maybe some races...but is all of that immediate and should i be thinking more of my future? but i don't know what my future is, what it holds. i could fall in love with a stranger on the subway tomorrow. i could discover deep sea diving. i could learn how to fly on fairy wings. literally, in nyc, anything can happen. i love running through the streets, seeing the fashion, the diversity of people, of lifestyles, of being.
i'm enjoying all of this. i'm enjoying my not-so-stable life. there are more tears than i'd like, and more confusion and struggle, but i'll take these as learning lessons. what doesn't kill me makes me stronger. i have to start figuring out next steps, where i'm going. will i stay in nyc? does my job really want to support my growth? should i travel soon, and most importantly, where? is a RTW in my future? all these things are quite murky and cloudy, but i have confidence that i'll figure them out, even if it's in a fumbling manner. i know eventually, probably at the last minute, i'll have the answers, but i think that's what life is all about: finding the answers, living in search of those answers.
i don't always want to be like this. sometimes, i hate struggling, living in nyc on a nonprofit salary, not having the means to save up for a house, in relationship turmoil...i think of my little sister, who had her long island fairytale wedding and is living in a house with her two cats and her doctor husband and feel a twinge of jealousy of how stable and easy and how american dream her life must be...but things aren't always as they appear, especially below the surface.
coming back from burning man, a week of absolute freedom ("can you believe it? no one knows freedom. all those people in russia and london and all across the states and everywhere in the entire world - none of them knows freedom," said a guy from santa rosa to me whose camp i stopped by at burning man.), of being able to be who i completely am without any restrictions - i suddenly am in my smushed apt, trying to figure out what's next. i'm thinking clearing some of the crap out of my apartment, out of my life, repainting, maybe some races...but is all of that immediate and should i be thinking more of my future? but i don't know what my future is, what it holds. i could fall in love with a stranger on the subway tomorrow. i could discover deep sea diving. i could learn how to fly on fairy wings. literally, in nyc, anything can happen. i love running through the streets, seeing the fashion, the diversity of people, of lifestyles, of being.
i'm enjoying all of this. i'm enjoying my not-so-stable life. there are more tears than i'd like, and more confusion and struggle, but i'll take these as learning lessons. what doesn't kill me makes me stronger. i have to start figuring out next steps, where i'm going. will i stay in nyc? does my job really want to support my growth? should i travel soon, and most importantly, where? is a RTW in my future? all these things are quite murky and cloudy, but i have confidence that i'll figure them out, even if it's in a fumbling manner. i know eventually, probably at the last minute, i'll have the answers, but i think that's what life is all about: finding the answers, living in search of those answers.
12 September 2009
side effect of burning man
you'll lose weight. i lost 5 pounds this year (and i'm pretty thin to begin with) by having zero appetite, biking hours each day in difficult conditions across the playa, running, dancing, eating snow cones, having a blast. i ate whenever food was offered or something looked appealing, and hydrated well (including mojitos).
Generation A
Generation A by Douglas CouplandMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
A+ Another stellar work of Coupland's. Although it's not out in the U.S. for another two months, I paid $40 for a copy to be shipped to me from Canada - and SO worth it. A brilliant story full of shorter stories and poignant one-liners. Reminds me of Generation X in a way (the story-telling element). The time is sometime in the near-future, and bees don't exist anymore...but suddenly, five people in five different countries are all stung by bees. This is their story as they create stories, try to make sense of their situation, and the world. I am going to immediately read it again.
View all my reviews >>
10 September 2009
burning man 2009 full recap
so burning man was amazing. it blew me away. there was a lot of time spent thinking, meditating, coming to realizations about my life. i loved being cut off from phone and email without the stress of work, family, cleaning cat vomit, whatever. sure, i had time to play and drink and dance, but i also got the taste of ultimate, absolute freedom...the kind where you stretch your arms out with an amazingly huge smile, knowing that you can do whatever it is you want...everyone has been asking me how it was. in a word: AMAZING. ASTONISHING. BRILLIANT. EVERYTHING I WANTED AND MORE. there were so lows, but mostly highs, and i can't even begin to tell you how much it changed my life.
here's a very, very high-level overview of just some of the things i did:
- rode on pegs of some boy's bmx bike (have never done that before)
- started liking tequila (in margaritas and also in the "jet fuel" served at one of my fave dancing and hooping spots, PleasAir)
- spanky's wine bar
- looked at the stars and planets with a boy with this powerful astronomy pen
- chilled with old and new friends
- lots and lots of hula hooping
- lots and lots of trampoline jumping
- diy workshop
- did a labyrinth of lights
- got counseling by two guys tripping on acid on relationship issues
- ran the perimeter
- ran the black rock city 5k (and placed second!)
- let strangers take care of me
- took care of strangers
- female workshop
- sangria slut social
- librarian cocktail party
- playa art
- playa dust & duststorms
- art cars
- rode an incredibly steep enormous slide
- got massage, gave massages
- connected with friends
- naughty colouring
- more trampolines
- dementha, mojitos, dancing, mint
- buddha bunny
- pink mammoth
- wrote in temple
- kostume kult's kostume dome
- watermelon (so tasty in the hot dessert)
- rock bottom
- biked lots
- had bike pedals fall off, bike troubles
- had strangers help me fix my bike
- biked around/wandered around in duststorm
- pickle martinis
- madonnathon
- bad advice, lots of it
- hot pink fake fur bikini w/ matching legwarmers
- fall in love each and every moment
- temple burn
- packing, unpacking, traffic
- nothing is awful, everything is wonderful, burning man makes life amazing
09 September 2009
burning man 2009
how do i even begin to start describing burning man? it's like going to your fantasy world where you can do whatever you want.
i still am overwhelmed with returning...with showers and normal food and work and email and cell phones and subway doors closing and being clean and not being judged or scolded or yelled at...it was amazing, brilliant, absolute freedom.
i'm still cleaning up, trying to figure out how to take the next steps of my life. they're going to be different -- that's a definite, but how to do them, that's another story.
i'll update more with lots of photos and the full story soon.
26 August 2009
off to burning man!
i'm signing offline for a few weeks - i'm first flying to portland to run hood to coast with a bunch of friends. it's a 197 mile relay from mt hood in oregon to the coast. apparently, there's a huge party at the end which sounds like a blast. wooohooo! the day after we finish, i'm heading back to portland, grabbing a rental car, picking up rachelle's bike, picking up rachelle, grabbing food and water, and making the 11-12 hr drive down to BURNING MAN! we'll be dancing, making art, hula hooping, meeting rad people, revelling with pink hair and fairy wings and costumes...i can't wait!
18 August 2009
PRE LOVE & Other Running Quotes
It seems when I was younger, I had a bit of a Pre-obsession. I found a bunch of quotes I used to have on my wall in a box in my parents' house the other day; here are some of the best for your runners out there to be inspired by.
You think, 'Why should I do this? i don't have to run this hard.' But that's when I think about them. They keep me going.
--Pre
Running is the only sport. The rest are just games.
I'm going to try to work it out so in the end it will be a pure guts race, and if it is, I am the only one that can win.
--Pre
Life is thirst.
--Leonard Michaels
You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement.
--Pre
I'm not afraid of losing. But if I do, I want it to be a good race. I'm an artist, a performer. I want people to appreciate the way I run.
--Pre
To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice your gift.
--Pre
Being fast has nothing to do with speed; it's how much pain you can handle.
--Pre
Some people create with words, or with music, or with a brush and paints. I like to make something beautiful when I run. I like to make people stop and say, "I've never seen anyone run like that before." It's more than just a race; it's a style. It's doing something better than anyone else. It's being creative.
--Pre
You think, 'Why should I do this? i don't have to run this hard.' But that's when I think about them. They keep me going.
--Pre
Running is the only sport. The rest are just games.
I'm going to try to work it out so in the end it will be a pure guts race, and if it is, I am the only one that can win.
--Pre
Life is thirst.
--Leonard Michaels
You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement.
--Pre
I'm not afraid of losing. But if I do, I want it to be a good race. I'm an artist, a performer. I want people to appreciate the way I run.
--Pre
To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice your gift.
--Pre
Being fast has nothing to do with speed; it's how much pain you can handle.
--Pre
Some people create with words, or with music, or with a brush and paints. I like to make something beautiful when I run. I like to make people stop and say, "I've never seen anyone run like that before." It's more than just a race; it's a style. It's doing something better than anyone else. It's being creative.
--Pre
08 August 2009
overnight training run at harriman -- followed by a 5 mile road race
Despite just having started training again post Vermont 100 miler, when some of my trail friends asked who's up for a long overnight run in Harriman Park, I immediately said yes. I wish I had done an overnight training run prior to Vermont.
We met on the Upper East Side at 6pm. Garth quickly quipped that he was one of the few men in Manhattan with duct tape on his nipples that evening. Hmmm, I'd be willing to bet he was one of the only ones. After setting up our aid station a.k.a. dropping our water around Mile 10 (which we'd pass twice), we headed to Tuxedo and began the trek after 8p.m.
Headlamps were immediately in order, and I was pleased with my fabulous Myo-XP. The trails were very rocky, technical, hilly, with lots of walking, careful foot planting (and inevetibly, tripping). My stomach somehow felt okay, and I began gelling every hour. Lisa led the four of us (she knows the trails best, and she's the fastest), and Lisa, Scott, Garth and I stayed fairly close -- Lisa and I chatted much of the time, and even if we couldn't hear Scott and Garth as clearly, we could always see their headlamps.
At Mile 10, I ate my first Mojo bar ever (wow, they're pretty awesome), and felt good. It was strange to be running so late, but I wasn't that tired. I still was going strong. Every so often, we'd run across this open rock face, and see the clear amazing starry sky -- it was truly beautiful.
I was happy to see no wildlife except for lots of deer. (I'm afraid of being eaten by a bear, so I'd rather not see any while running.) We heard coyotes at one point, and I tried not to think about the fact that I was running towards their howls. Step, step, step. Careful plod.
When we looped back past our aid station again, I took a 5 hour energy shot. My energy didn't soar like it has other times, but I felt less sleepy. As the run went on, my coordination (okay, so I normally don't have very much) was shot and I found myself doing the butt slide down several steep rock declines.
We finished sometime after six, and celebrating by changing into dry clothes (dry running clothes for me) and eating. I didn't eat that much, but drank a good deal of water. We drove back to the city, high on our great run but exhausted.
At this point, a sensible person (But would a sensible person decide to go running for 10 hours overnight? Probably not.) would go home and go to bed. Instead, I went straight into Central Park and met up with my team, North Brooklyn Runners, for the team championships. I ate some of my pbj on bagel, and my stomach started feeling wrecked shortly after. Great...I hoped I wouldn't throw up.
After cheering on the boys, the women's race went off. I felt so ill but pushed out a first mile in 7:20. Respectable. I decided not to kill myself, but to push myself on every downhill; otherwise, I could chill/try not to vomit. That strategy worked, and I finished just over 38 minutes. I was pleased, considering I did it on no sleep and a 10 hour trail run the night before.
We hung out in the park for a bit, and headed to the subway. This is where I should have gone home and showered and went to bed. Instead of going to bed, I headed to McCarren Park, where my team had a yummy picnic. Despite my sworn hatred of tequila, my friend Matt handed me a mango mint margarita he made -- I drank two and and relaxed in the sunshine with good friends and fab runners.
And then I took a nap.
We met on the Upper East Side at 6pm. Garth quickly quipped that he was one of the few men in Manhattan with duct tape on his nipples that evening. Hmmm, I'd be willing to bet he was one of the only ones. After setting up our aid station a.k.a. dropping our water around Mile 10 (which we'd pass twice), we headed to Tuxedo and began the trek after 8p.m.
Headlamps were immediately in order, and I was pleased with my fabulous Myo-XP. The trails were very rocky, technical, hilly, with lots of walking, careful foot planting (and inevetibly, tripping). My stomach somehow felt okay, and I began gelling every hour. Lisa led the four of us (she knows the trails best, and she's the fastest), and Lisa, Scott, Garth and I stayed fairly close -- Lisa and I chatted much of the time, and even if we couldn't hear Scott and Garth as clearly, we could always see their headlamps.
At Mile 10, I ate my first Mojo bar ever (wow, they're pretty awesome), and felt good. It was strange to be running so late, but I wasn't that tired. I still was going strong. Every so often, we'd run across this open rock face, and see the clear amazing starry sky -- it was truly beautiful.
I was happy to see no wildlife except for lots of deer. (I'm afraid of being eaten by a bear, so I'd rather not see any while running.) We heard coyotes at one point, and I tried not to think about the fact that I was running towards their howls. Step, step, step. Careful plod.
When we looped back past our aid station again, I took a 5 hour energy shot. My energy didn't soar like it has other times, but I felt less sleepy. As the run went on, my coordination (okay, so I normally don't have very much) was shot and I found myself doing the butt slide down several steep rock declines.
We finished sometime after six, and celebrating by changing into dry clothes (dry running clothes for me) and eating. I didn't eat that much, but drank a good deal of water. We drove back to the city, high on our great run but exhausted.
At this point, a sensible person (But would a sensible person decide to go running for 10 hours overnight? Probably not.) would go home and go to bed. Instead, I went straight into Central Park and met up with my team, North Brooklyn Runners, for the team championships. I ate some of my pbj on bagel, and my stomach started feeling wrecked shortly after. Great...I hoped I wouldn't throw up.
After cheering on the boys, the women's race went off. I felt so ill but pushed out a first mile in 7:20. Respectable. I decided not to kill myself, but to push myself on every downhill; otherwise, I could chill/try not to vomit. That strategy worked, and I finished just over 38 minutes. I was pleased, considering I did it on no sleep and a 10 hour trail run the night before.
We hung out in the park for a bit, and headed to the subway. This is where I should have gone home and showered and went to bed. Instead of going to bed, I headed to McCarren Park, where my team had a yummy picnic. Despite my sworn hatred of tequila, my friend Matt handed me a mango mint margarita he made -- I drank two and and relaxed in the sunshine with good friends and fab runners.
And then I took a nap.
02 August 2009
lessons learned from the vermont 100 miler
The Vermont 100 Miler (#vt100) was my first hundred miler, and since finishing two weeks ago, I've thought a lot about what I could have done differently. My goal was a sub-24 hour finish, which I know I could have done had everything been aligned -- but everything wasn't aligned. When you're running 100 miles, you're not thinking very clearly. Now I am and thinking back on a few things I know I'll do differently next time...
- Take ibuprofin if you need it. My feet were swelling ridiculously, and while I was carrying ibuprofin with me, and had some in every drop bag, I didn't take any. I chalk it up to cloudy thinking.
- When you're sleepy, take caffeine. I had some in my drop bags, but I probably should have carried some with me. I didn't take it b/c I didn't want to, and at one point, I was swerving across the path (good thing I wasn't a car or I would have hit something).
- Don't talk to your pacer for a while before. Mecca caught me up on some good stories, gossip, etc., which was great when I was sleepy.
- Change your socks. I almost changed my socks earlier, and wished I had -- I never would have had swollen, rash-covered, blister-covered feet if I had. I thought my feet were fine, and the pain didn't start until mile 55 or 60 or so. So next time -- I'm changing my socks frequently.
- Bring an extra pair of shoes - a half size larger. A friend recommended this to me, and I thought, "Spend all that extra money...and how can I size myself in a shoe a half size larger?" I wish I did. With my allergic reaction, my feet swelled up so big that I couldn't get my feet into anything other than flip flops for a few days. No joke: the Monday after, I couldn't stuff my foot into my Birkenstocks and had to go home from the doctor's in a surgical boot.
- Baby wipes would've made me feel fresher.
- Eat. My stomach was wrecked and I decided I couldn't eat gels but I wished I tried to, or tried something other than all the solid food I was eating.
- Drink less. I drank so much I was stopping every 20 minutes -- good thing I was running with guys who were stopping the same. I ended up gaining 4 pounds between mile 47 and 70! This also could've had to do with the eating all solid foods thing.
- Bring toilet paper. I was peeing nonstop, and there's not toilet paper hanging from the trees. I was using leaves, and I told Mecca, "It'll be a miracle if I don't get some sort of infection after this race." Yay for miracles.
27 July 2009
Great Margaret Atwood Quote
A [breakup] is like an amputation. You survive, but there's less of you.
25 July 2009
have i been thinking wrong?
This past week has been a strange one. After running my first 100 miler, the Vermont 100, I had to deal with my scary feet -- covered with blisters, swollen. I took off work to visit my podiatrist ("I love having such interesting patients." Um, thanks.), and have been spending the rest of the time Not Running. Life has always been full of sparkles when I'm running, and when I'm Not Running, I'm plotting my next run. My doctor told me I had tendinitis -- I think it's minor, but there's been aching in my ankle on and off for a while -- and I'm not running for another week. It's torture, this Not Running. Walking on the beach yesterday, I yearned to be running. I went to the suburbs to visit my mom, I loved the green everywhere -- green trees, lawns, the space, the clean air. I guess that visit and all the time spent Not Running is what triggered this thought pattern below.
I saw my childhood next-door neighbor with her cute 9-month-old baby, my married sister and her husband (It's very weird - they refer to each other as "husband" and "wife" all the time -- they just got married last October so maybe it's still the new exciting thing?), I saw the garages and the lined-up tulips and the straight-up career trajectories and the bicycling kids and my past and thought, "Did I fuck up my future?" Have I been thinking wrong all along? I didn't take the path I was taught to.
I went from college to working for a bit at a nonprofit to my MFA in Writing to my MLS to traveling to working a job...I'm living in Brooklyn in a neighborhood I can no longer afford, and I'm watching my savings slowly dwindle while I work at a nonprofit for the greater good...I'm in an unstable relationship that will probably blow up any minute, especially since he is probably moving away -- and this is a relationship of way too long for me to not know where it is going. It scares me -- I never thought I'd be on this path of I don't know where I'm going. I'm all for Robert Frost and opting for the road less travelled, but I think I'm more or less bushwhacking right now. I don't see the path. I'm covered with cuts, scrapes and bruises. (For the ultrarunners out there, I feel like I'm attempting Barkley.) I'm thinking about the immediate -- drinking from this stream for my thirst, eating some blueberries for my hunger, running for my passion, a pause for rest -- but I don't know if this bushwhacked trail will ever end up on a real trail? Will I arrive at a destination? Is life not about the destination but the journey? But what if the journey is confusing and painful and seemingly pointless and hard?
I'm trying not to let my tears blur my view for the vision of the future; I'm picking out fabrics for dresses to sew, races to run, plane tickets to see family, logisitics for Burning Man, sewing wings for parties. It's painful, it's complicated, it's confusing, it's not easy, it's not what I pictured, but I think I'll roll with it. I'll try to smile, I'll dance in the subway, I'll laugh on a run, I'll call my mother back, I'll eat too many sweets, I'll douse my body with cold water when it's hot...I'll remember that life is good and try not to cry too much -- but also to remember it's great to cry when I'm happy.
I saw my childhood next-door neighbor with her cute 9-month-old baby, my married sister and her husband (It's very weird - they refer to each other as "husband" and "wife" all the time -- they just got married last October so maybe it's still the new exciting thing?), I saw the garages and the lined-up tulips and the straight-up career trajectories and the bicycling kids and my past and thought, "Did I fuck up my future?" Have I been thinking wrong all along? I didn't take the path I was taught to.
I went from college to working for a bit at a nonprofit to my MFA in Writing to my MLS to traveling to working a job...I'm living in Brooklyn in a neighborhood I can no longer afford, and I'm watching my savings slowly dwindle while I work at a nonprofit for the greater good...I'm in an unstable relationship that will probably blow up any minute, especially since he is probably moving away -- and this is a relationship of way too long for me to not know where it is going. It scares me -- I never thought I'd be on this path of I don't know where I'm going. I'm all for Robert Frost and opting for the road less travelled, but I think I'm more or less bushwhacking right now. I don't see the path. I'm covered with cuts, scrapes and bruises. (For the ultrarunners out there, I feel like I'm attempting Barkley.) I'm thinking about the immediate -- drinking from this stream for my thirst, eating some blueberries for my hunger, running for my passion, a pause for rest -- but I don't know if this bushwhacked trail will ever end up on a real trail? Will I arrive at a destination? Is life not about the destination but the journey? But what if the journey is confusing and painful and seemingly pointless and hard?
I'm trying not to let my tears blur my view for the vision of the future; I'm picking out fabrics for dresses to sew, races to run, plane tickets to see family, logisitics for Burning Man, sewing wings for parties. It's painful, it's complicated, it's confusing, it's not easy, it's not what I pictured, but I think I'll roll with it. I'll try to smile, I'll dance in the subway, I'll laugh on a run, I'll call my mother back, I'll eat too many sweets, I'll douse my body with cold water when it's hot...I'll remember that life is good and try not to cry too much -- but also to remember it's great to cry when I'm happy.
20 July 2009
vermont 100 miler race report
I've been thinking about this race for SO long...I can't believe I finished it. I truly did it - I ran 100 miles!
I woke up Saturday morning at 2:30 a.m. I ate a peanut butter and jelly on a bagel, stretched a bit, and off to the start. The race started at 4 a.m., and I started with my old headlamp that is very uncomfortable. I didn't wear it on my head, but wrapped it around my wrist (good tip if your headlamp is bothering you) and ended up leaving it with the volunteers at the first aid station at mile 7.
I began running and chatting with Toby, who I'm also following on Twitter. We shortly joined up with a few other runners - Jon from AZ (who I'm also following in Twitter!), Paul from Arkansas, Shane, future Navy Seal (if things work out well for him, which I believe they will), and many others. We had a good group of us, chatting, swapping stories (including weird fishing techniques, eeek!), dishing out the ultrarunning gossip. I love meeting other ultrarunning nerds and talking about ultrarunning.
Mile 9 my stomach required a pitstop and I hoped my race wasn't over. My stomach was hurting me on and off throughout the race - an unfortunate theme throughout this race. When I packed, I had speculated I'd eat 20-24 gels; I ended up only eating 3. The idea of eating a gel was repulsive and as I dry heaved at one point, I decided not to push it. Throughout the race, I ate pretzels, animal crackers, watermelon, gummibears, mini snickers, and other assorted random foods.
After my Portapotty 3 minute rest stop, I caught up to my friends after a few miles. We continued chatting and having fun. We couldn't think, "Only 82 miles to go" or whatever - you can't think like that in an ultra because it becomes too demoralizing. You have to think, "Only 2 more miles to the next aid station."
At Pretty House, mile 21.1, I met up with Mecca (my pacer for the last 30 miles!) and Bill (my handler). They were great throughout - handing me pre-filled (with ice and water) water bottles, handing me food from my bags or aid station tables, helping me get in and out of the aid stations as quickly as possible.
Leaving Pretty House, my stomach was bothering me but I kept running. Our group numbers changed throughout - we'd stop to pee, and some people would pass us, we'd catch up, we'd get new people, lose them - but it was mainly Jon, Shane, and I. We had a great time chatting and keeping our whining down a minimum. My stomach was bothering me, and there were times I wanted to walk, but if I did, I might be alone. So I kept on trucking.
At the first weigh-in at Camp 10 Bear, I was the same weight. Yay! Good news. I saw Bill again (who oh-so-awesomely got me a yummilicious coffee cake muffin), and he sprayed my scalp with sunscreen. Mecca was napping so she could run all night with me. I ate some watermelon and headed out to the trails with Jon and Shane.
Margaritaville was great fun. Rumour has it, if you drop out here, you get a margarita. My joke was, I don't like tequila (and thus, margaritas) so I couldn't drop out there! I saw Bill again as I devoured some absolutely delicious home-baked cookies (cinnamon chip cookies! chocolate chocolate chip cookies!). Shane had taken off ahead of us, so it was just me and Jon, chatting, running, struggling, but persevering.
It was sometime after Camp 10 Bear that I began drinking too much water. I drank almost an entire bottle in between each aid station, and since the aid stations are 2-5 miles apart, this wasn't the best thing. I was peeing nonstop, but luckily Jon was too b/c we kept stopping alongside the trail. By the end, we weren't even looking for bushes. Just, "I'm stopping here to pee." Jon would move up 5 feet and pee there. Ultrarunners like to talk about "food, running, and pooping," Mecca quipped in the car ride up. Add peeing to that list too.
We headed back into Camp 10 Bear just as it was starting to get dark. When I got weighed in again, I was four pounds heavier. I also attribute this to eating more solid foods. We thought a sub-24 hour finish would be impossible, but were informed that while it would be tough, it was possible. I changed in a dark corner, put on new socks and shoes, sipped a little cold broth, and prepared to leave...just as I did, I started feeling violently ill - freezing cold, nauseas, and dizzy. I sat for several moments in a chair and finally decided we needed to leave.
Mecca accompanied me as I hobbled back to the course. I almost started dry heaving immediately, but then we walked for a while. My feet were KILLING me - they felt like they were so swollen they could barely fit into my shoes. After a while, the nausea subsided and we began very slowly running and walking. Very important ultra lesson: you will often feel worse if you stop, but start walking; eventually you'll feel okay enough to start running again.
We ran into Jon again who was ahead of us with his pacer, and he said he wasn't feeling so well. We stuck together for a while, and I made everyone exchange first kiss stories. Of course the guys said they couldn't really remember, but Mecca and I had many details.
Jon and his pacer held back and Mecca and I continued. When we got to West Winds/Spirit of '76, I was in good spirits. I ate a bit, chatted with the super-duper friendly volunteers (btw, this race is SO well-organized and the volunteers are great and friendly, I recommend it to anyone!) and took off. My feet were hurting me more.
I had been worried a lot about night running. I only slept 6.5 hours the night before (My sleep was punctuated by waking up to look at the clock, or waking up due to Bill's snoring), and I was worried I'd fall asleep or get lost. I put 5 Hour Energy supplements in my bag, along with caffeinated sports jelly beans. My headlamp was really bright, and the course was very well-marked. There were glowsticks every so often, and Mecca and I ran towards the glowsticks hanging from the trees. I started to get sleepy at one point when my feet were hurting me and we were climbing a lot of uphills, and told Mecca to tell me some stories. She's a great storyteller, and really helped keep me awake.
And my feet continued to ache with each and every step. I didn't know what was going on. I typically don't have a problem with blisters, so I wasn't sure what was going on. "My feet hurt so bad, Mecca," I whined, too many times I'm sure. We ended up walking a lot more than I wanted to.
At Mile 88, Bill's Barn, I ended up stripping my socks to change my socks - and saw the scariest feet ever. My feet should've been in a horror movie. They were covered with red splotches, bumps, and yeah, lots of blisters. Later, the podiatrist at the finish line determined that my rainbow-patterned Injinji socks (which I LOVE and feel great and I've worn in a 100k and 50 miler - though this was a new pair) gave me an allergic reaction. My feet broke out in a rash and swelled up, and because my feet were swelling, I got blisters in between and underneath every foot - and in some other spots as well. The woman that was fixing my feet at mile 88, was like, "Oh my god. You're not going to continue, are you?"
Yes, I am!
We rested there for a while - they put me under a blanket because I was shivering and I tried to convince them I'd be okay to run again. I drank some hot tea, rested, let my feet dry. I eventually stuffed my feet into my sneakers (a shoehorn probably would've been helpful as my feet were SO swollen) and Mecca and I hobbled off onto the trails.
The last 12 miles took forever, or it felt like that. I was conscious of the pain with each and every step, and we walked a lot more than I wanted to. I wanted to cry - the pain was that bad. The glowsticks stopped being our guide as the sun came up, and we kept moving. I was so disappointed looking at my watch, seeing a sub-24 hour race impossible, and seeing the time I was out on the course much more than I had thought.
But I finished. I kept going. When I was the "1 Mile to Go" sign, Mecca said, "I hate that sign. I'm going to kick it for you!" She kicked it for me, and we ran as strongly as I could to the finish.
29 hours! Far from the sub-24 hours I had secretly hoped for, but I did it! I finished a 100 miler! I had so many adventures along the way, met a lot of really fantastic people, saw some astonishingly beautiful Vermont calendar perfect scenergy...and really put my limits to the test.
I woke up Saturday morning at 2:30 a.m. I ate a peanut butter and jelly on a bagel, stretched a bit, and off to the start. The race started at 4 a.m., and I started with my old headlamp that is very uncomfortable. I didn't wear it on my head, but wrapped it around my wrist (good tip if your headlamp is bothering you) and ended up leaving it with the volunteers at the first aid station at mile 7.
I began running and chatting with Toby, who I'm also following on Twitter. We shortly joined up with a few other runners - Jon from AZ (who I'm also following in Twitter!), Paul from Arkansas, Shane, future Navy Seal (if things work out well for him, which I believe they will), and many others. We had a good group of us, chatting, swapping stories (including weird fishing techniques, eeek!), dishing out the ultrarunning gossip. I love meeting other ultrarunning nerds and talking about ultrarunning.
Mile 9 my stomach required a pitstop and I hoped my race wasn't over. My stomach was hurting me on and off throughout the race - an unfortunate theme throughout this race. When I packed, I had speculated I'd eat 20-24 gels; I ended up only eating 3. The idea of eating a gel was repulsive and as I dry heaved at one point, I decided not to push it. Throughout the race, I ate pretzels, animal crackers, watermelon, gummibears, mini snickers, and other assorted random foods.
After my Portapotty 3 minute rest stop, I caught up to my friends after a few miles. We continued chatting and having fun. We couldn't think, "Only 82 miles to go" or whatever - you can't think like that in an ultra because it becomes too demoralizing. You have to think, "Only 2 more miles to the next aid station."
At Pretty House, mile 21.1, I met up with Mecca (my pacer for the last 30 miles!) and Bill (my handler). They were great throughout - handing me pre-filled (with ice and water) water bottles, handing me food from my bags or aid station tables, helping me get in and out of the aid stations as quickly as possible.Leaving Pretty House, my stomach was bothering me but I kept running. Our group numbers changed throughout - we'd stop to pee, and some people would pass us, we'd catch up, we'd get new people, lose them - but it was mainly Jon, Shane, and I. We had a great time chatting and keeping our whining down a minimum. My stomach was bothering me, and there were times I wanted to walk, but if I did, I might be alone. So I kept on trucking.
At the first weigh-in at Camp 10 Bear, I was the same weight. Yay! Good news. I saw Bill again (who oh-so-awesomely got me a yummilicious coffee cake muffin), and he sprayed my scalp with sunscreen. Mecca was napping so she could run all night with me. I ate some watermelon and headed out to the trails with Jon and Shane.
Margaritaville was great fun. Rumour has it, if you drop out here, you get a margarita. My joke was, I don't like tequila (and thus, margaritas) so I couldn't drop out there! I saw Bill again as I devoured some absolutely delicious home-baked cookies (cinnamon chip cookies! chocolate chocolate chip cookies!). Shane had taken off ahead of us, so it was just me and Jon, chatting, running, struggling, but persevering.It was sometime after Camp 10 Bear that I began drinking too much water. I drank almost an entire bottle in between each aid station, and since the aid stations are 2-5 miles apart, this wasn't the best thing. I was peeing nonstop, but luckily Jon was too b/c we kept stopping alongside the trail. By the end, we weren't even looking for bushes. Just, "I'm stopping here to pee." Jon would move up 5 feet and pee there. Ultrarunners like to talk about "food, running, and pooping," Mecca quipped in the car ride up. Add peeing to that list too.
We headed back into Camp 10 Bear just as it was starting to get dark. When I got weighed in again, I was four pounds heavier. I also attribute this to eating more solid foods. We thought a sub-24 hour finish would be impossible, but were informed that while it would be tough, it was possible. I changed in a dark corner, put on new socks and shoes, sipped a little cold broth, and prepared to leave...just as I did, I started feeling violently ill - freezing cold, nauseas, and dizzy. I sat for several moments in a chair and finally decided we needed to leave.
Mecca accompanied me as I hobbled back to the course. I almost started dry heaving immediately, but then we walked for a while. My feet were KILLING me - they felt like they were so swollen they could barely fit into my shoes. After a while, the nausea subsided and we began very slowly running and walking. Very important ultra lesson: you will often feel worse if you stop, but start walking; eventually you'll feel okay enough to start running again.
We ran into Jon again who was ahead of us with his pacer, and he said he wasn't feeling so well. We stuck together for a while, and I made everyone exchange first kiss stories. Of course the guys said they couldn't really remember, but Mecca and I had many details.
Jon and his pacer held back and Mecca and I continued. When we got to West Winds/Spirit of '76, I was in good spirits. I ate a bit, chatted with the super-duper friendly volunteers (btw, this race is SO well-organized and the volunteers are great and friendly, I recommend it to anyone!) and took off. My feet were hurting me more.
I had been worried a lot about night running. I only slept 6.5 hours the night before (My sleep was punctuated by waking up to look at the clock, or waking up due to Bill's snoring), and I was worried I'd fall asleep or get lost. I put 5 Hour Energy supplements in my bag, along with caffeinated sports jelly beans. My headlamp was really bright, and the course was very well-marked. There were glowsticks every so often, and Mecca and I ran towards the glowsticks hanging from the trees. I started to get sleepy at one point when my feet were hurting me and we were climbing a lot of uphills, and told Mecca to tell me some stories. She's a great storyteller, and really helped keep me awake.
And my feet continued to ache with each and every step. I didn't know what was going on. I typically don't have a problem with blisters, so I wasn't sure what was going on. "My feet hurt so bad, Mecca," I whined, too many times I'm sure. We ended up walking a lot more than I wanted to.
At Mile 88, Bill's Barn, I ended up stripping my socks to change my socks - and saw the scariest feet ever. My feet should've been in a horror movie. They were covered with red splotches, bumps, and yeah, lots of blisters. Later, the podiatrist at the finish line determined that my rainbow-patterned Injinji socks (which I LOVE and feel great and I've worn in a 100k and 50 miler - though this was a new pair) gave me an allergic reaction. My feet broke out in a rash and swelled up, and because my feet were swelling, I got blisters in between and underneath every foot - and in some other spots as well. The woman that was fixing my feet at mile 88, was like, "Oh my god. You're not going to continue, are you?"
Yes, I am!
We rested there for a while - they put me under a blanket because I was shivering and I tried to convince them I'd be okay to run again. I drank some hot tea, rested, let my feet dry. I eventually stuffed my feet into my sneakers (a shoehorn probably would've been helpful as my feet were SO swollen) and Mecca and I hobbled off onto the trails.
The last 12 miles took forever, or it felt like that. I was conscious of the pain with each and every step, and we walked a lot more than I wanted to. I wanted to cry - the pain was that bad. The glowsticks stopped being our guide as the sun came up, and we kept moving. I was so disappointed looking at my watch, seeing a sub-24 hour race impossible, and seeing the time I was out on the course much more than I had thought.
But I finished. I kept going. When I was the "1 Mile to Go" sign, Mecca said, "I hate that sign. I'm going to kick it for you!" She kicked it for me, and we ran as strongly as I could to the finish.29 hours! Far from the sub-24 hours I had secretly hoped for, but I did it! I finished a 100 miler! I had so many adventures along the way, met a lot of really fantastic people, saw some astonishingly beautiful Vermont calendar perfect scenergy...and really put my limits to the test.
i feel very strong today (and somewhat dead)
that which does not kill you makes you stronger.
--frederick nietzche
--frederick nietzche
16 July 2009
trying not to fall apart
I am so scared -- I'm running my first 100 miler and I wonder, "Have I trained enough?" I haven't done enough back-to-backs. Did I taper too early -- my longest run was a 100k back in late May. I didn't do a night run. My stomach is full of butterflies, and this week I've tried to rest, not run around too much, eat lots of carbs, hydrate.
When I asked Brad back during the San Francisco North Face Challenge last December why he ran ultras and did adventure races, he barely paused to think. "You reach the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. The intensity of emotion."
He's right. The highs are so amazing -- nothing will match them. I remember during that race, running so fast (well, it felt fast -- it probably was only 7:3o or 8:00 minute miles!) through these beautiful Redwoods, feeling so free, so amazing. I love that free, amazing, absolutely high feeling. If that's what drugs are like, well, addicts, yes, I understand you because I'm addicted to RUNNING!
The lows can break you. It's the worst if you are in pain, but it's also horrendous if you're not in pain -- because then you don't even have an excuse. I can't tell you how many times I've cried during a long run in the woods. The worst was when I was completely lost in poison ivy; I cried and called T, my mom. Instead of doing a long 50 mile straight run, I did an out-and-back run which was quite tough, but at least I wasn't lost. I have to remember when I get to those black holes that it won't last. I have to think about the next aid station. I have to think about the rewards at the end, the sweet victory, that sense of accomplishment.
Right now, I'm overwhelmed with worries about the Vermont 100 Miler -- what if I get lost? What if I get hurt? What if I don't make weigh-ins? What if I get sick? What if --
I have to shut those out of my mind, and think, "What if I have fun?"
Yes, I will have fun. A blast. The greatest day of my life!
When I asked Brad back during the San Francisco North Face Challenge last December why he ran ultras and did adventure races, he barely paused to think. "You reach the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. The intensity of emotion."
He's right. The highs are so amazing -- nothing will match them. I remember during that race, running so fast (well, it felt fast -- it probably was only 7:3o or 8:00 minute miles!) through these beautiful Redwoods, feeling so free, so amazing. I love that free, amazing, absolutely high feeling. If that's what drugs are like, well, addicts, yes, I understand you because I'm addicted to RUNNING!
The lows can break you. It's the worst if you are in pain, but it's also horrendous if you're not in pain -- because then you don't even have an excuse. I can't tell you how many times I've cried during a long run in the woods. The worst was when I was completely lost in poison ivy; I cried and called T, my mom. Instead of doing a long 50 mile straight run, I did an out-and-back run which was quite tough, but at least I wasn't lost. I have to remember when I get to those black holes that it won't last. I have to think about the next aid station. I have to think about the rewards at the end, the sweet victory, that sense of accomplishment.
Right now, I'm overwhelmed with worries about the Vermont 100 Miler -- what if I get lost? What if I get hurt? What if I don't make weigh-ins? What if I get sick? What if --
I have to shut those out of my mind, and think, "What if I have fun?"
Yes, I will have fun. A blast. The greatest day of my life!
11 July 2009
emerson quote
what lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within.
packing list for the vermont 100 miler
who knows if i'll need it all, but it's better to be safe than sorry:
clothing/running accessories
anything else i'm forgetting????
clothing/running accessories
- 3 sports bras
- 3 tanks/tees
- 2 long sleeved shirts
- 2 visors
- 3 underwear
- 3 socks
- 2 pairs snickers
- 2 sunglasses
- fuel belt
- replacement water bottle
- endurolytes
- sports jelly beans
- gel
- body glide!
- headlamp
- flashlight
- sweat wristbands
- animal crackers
- 5 hour energy shots
- snickers - 1 bag for me, 1 bag for crew
- pretzels - 3 bags
- cheap flashlight
- spray-on sunblock
- watermelon
- bagels
- gummi bears
- extra batteries
- peanut butter
- jelly
- ribbons for hair
anything else i'm forgetting????
10 July 2009
counting down to the vermont 100 miler!
I am getting WAY too excited about the Vermont 100 miler. It's next Saturday and Sunday, 18-19 of July (yes, two days!). I really have no idea how I'll fare. I KNOW I'm strong enough to finish, but the amount of time it will take me...well, I think there's a chance I could finish sub-24 hours, but I also think it could take as long as 28 or 29 hours. As long as I finish in 29:59:59 (the cut-off is 30 hours!), I'll be happy.
I'm really getting excited. I'm lucky enough to have my amazing friend Mecca pace me the last 30 miles. When I first asked her, the longest she had run was a marathon, but she readily agreed. Don't worry, Mecca, I'll probably be crawling with the worms and snakes so I can talk to that antelope growing out of the dirt I'll be hallucinating, so keeping up with me won't be a problem at all. I also have the original Boston Bill as my crew -- he'll be refilling my water bottles, fetching me gatorade, and making sure I'm eating enough fun-sized snickers bars. I'm so excited.
The course is dirt roads, some single track, a little paved roads, and a lot of fun. The volunteers are supposed to be amazing (but aren't they almost always?), the food is like an all-you-can-eat-buffet (I think if I ever got married, I'd talk to a Race Director and see if they'd cater. I especially loved the food at the Vermont 50 miler, especially at the mile 25 aid station - I think I ate three pieces of homemade coffeecake!), and you get to run - my favourite thing!
I'm starting to organize stuff -- getting food together, clothes, figuring out shoes. I need to get a small flashlight for the start of the race, make sure I have it all arranged. I have lists.
I'm so nervous. I've never done this before. The longest I've run is at the 100k - which was slightly longer than a 100k. I know I can do it.
But sometimes, I hit rock bottom. Even the 45 miler I did a few weeks ago, it was awful. I was shuffling, felt like hell...but after some caffeine, I started perking up. I know I'll be crying, moaning, wondering why I'm doing this...and I only hope it doesn't take too long to remember.
But I know there will be the high points -- where I'll feel amazing, like I'm flying, feel totally free...and I can't wait for those!
I'm really getting excited. I'm lucky enough to have my amazing friend Mecca pace me the last 30 miles. When I first asked her, the longest she had run was a marathon, but she readily agreed. Don't worry, Mecca, I'll probably be crawling with the worms and snakes so I can talk to that antelope growing out of the dirt I'll be hallucinating, so keeping up with me won't be a problem at all. I also have the original Boston Bill as my crew -- he'll be refilling my water bottles, fetching me gatorade, and making sure I'm eating enough fun-sized snickers bars. I'm so excited.
The course is dirt roads, some single track, a little paved roads, and a lot of fun. The volunteers are supposed to be amazing (but aren't they almost always?), the food is like an all-you-can-eat-buffet (I think if I ever got married, I'd talk to a Race Director and see if they'd cater. I especially loved the food at the Vermont 50 miler, especially at the mile 25 aid station - I think I ate three pieces of homemade coffeecake!), and you get to run - my favourite thing!
I'm starting to organize stuff -- getting food together, clothes, figuring out shoes. I need to get a small flashlight for the start of the race, make sure I have it all arranged. I have lists.
I'm so nervous. I've never done this before. The longest I've run is at the 100k - which was slightly longer than a 100k. I know I can do it.
But sometimes, I hit rock bottom. Even the 45 miler I did a few weeks ago, it was awful. I was shuffling, felt like hell...but after some caffeine, I started perking up. I know I'll be crying, moaning, wondering why I'm doing this...and I only hope it doesn't take too long to remember.
But I know there will be the high points -- where I'll feel amazing, like I'm flying, feel totally free...and I can't wait for those!
01 July 2009
burning man 2009
so things fall apart; the center cannot hold. all my plans disintegrated a few weeks ago, but as my dad says, "things always get better." and they have. i am definitely going back to burning man.
so far, i bought my tent, my plane ticket out there...i still have lots of organizing to do, but it's exciting and fun, despite the chaos. i am either moving immediately before or immediately after, so that should add to the insanity as well. my boyfriend may or may not come (i hope he does), rachelle may or may not come, crista may or may not come, bill may or may not come...supposedly it's def gwendolyn and i.
but the preparation is half the fun. i have already putting stuff aside...little things like yummy-smelling hand sanitizer, and fun costumes and outfits. i need to get some fake fur so i can make a hot pink fake fur bikini to wear around the playa.
why do i go? i go because it is a place where i feel 100% myself, i feel completely free. there are few places i feel totally free: when i'm running is the main place, but burning man is the other. by free i mean i can be 100% me, run around, do whatever i want, not have to worry abt what will others thing or hold myself back from how i truly feel like acting. it's not something i think abt doing consciously, but i do. everyone does.
meanwhile, looking forward to august 31.
here's a video to inspire and excite you on the art of burning man:
so far, i bought my tent, my plane ticket out there...i still have lots of organizing to do, but it's exciting and fun, despite the chaos. i am either moving immediately before or immediately after, so that should add to the insanity as well. my boyfriend may or may not come (i hope he does), rachelle may or may not come, crista may or may not come, bill may or may not come...supposedly it's def gwendolyn and i.
but the preparation is half the fun. i have already putting stuff aside...little things like yummy-smelling hand sanitizer, and fun costumes and outfits. i need to get some fake fur so i can make a hot pink fake fur bikini to wear around the playa.
why do i go? i go because it is a place where i feel 100% myself, i feel completely free. there are few places i feel totally free: when i'm running is the main place, but burning man is the other. by free i mean i can be 100% me, run around, do whatever i want, not have to worry abt what will others thing or hold myself back from how i truly feel like acting. it's not something i think abt doing consciously, but i do. everyone does.
meanwhile, looking forward to august 31.
here's a video to inspire and excite you on the art of burning man:
27 June 2009
12 June 2009
a few photos of the south mtn 100k!
Look at how fast we're running!
ensure and iced oatmeal cookies (that's what in my hand): food of champion ultrarunners!
11 June 2009
alice hoffman quote from THE STORY GIRLS
love is what matters. real love. the kind that turns you inside out.
rules for life
conclusions at the age of thirty:
rule #3:
family comes first. family includes t.
rule #8:
always follow your heart.
rule #14:
don't let others tell you what to do.
rule #83:
commuter trains are made for crying.
rule #46:
there's not enough time to do things you don't want to do.
rule #38:
there's not enough space to be friends with bad people.
rule #9:
always go back to your roots. never stop writing.
rule #22:
retail therapy is probably more affordable than regular therapy, and at least you have something tangible at the end.
rule #77:
accept compliments.
rule #83:
let others take care of you, on occasion.
rule #122:
don't rely on anyone else to help you out.
rule #44:
chocolate is better than any anti-depressant.
rule #25:
make love not war.
rule #111:
see your friends solo. you are friends with your friends, not their partners.
rule #98:
believe in yourself, even if no one else does.
rule #167:
don't go where you're not 100% welcome.
rule #148:
kissing is the best thing in the world that's free.
rule #27:
when you're tired, rest. if not, exalt.
rule #94:
wear sexy, comfortable underwear, even if no one sees them but you.
rule #104:
you're never too old for hot fudge sundaes with dad.
rule #89: it's okay to cry, and dark sunglasses help avoid nosy questions.
rule #3:
family comes first. family includes t.
rule #8:
always follow your heart.
rule #14:
don't let others tell you what to do.
rule #83:
commuter trains are made for crying.
rule #46:
there's not enough time to do things you don't want to do.
rule #38:
there's not enough space to be friends with bad people.
rule #9:
always go back to your roots. never stop writing.
rule #22:
retail therapy is probably more affordable than regular therapy, and at least you have something tangible at the end.
rule #77:
accept compliments.
rule #83:
let others take care of you, on occasion.
rule #122:
don't rely on anyone else to help you out.
rule #44:
chocolate is better than any anti-depressant.
rule #25:
make love not war.
rule #111:
see your friends solo. you are friends with your friends, not their partners.
rule #98:
believe in yourself, even if no one else does.
rule #167:
don't go where you're not 100% welcome.
rule #148:
kissing is the best thing in the world that's free.
rule #27:
when you're tired, rest. if not, exalt.
rule #94:
wear sexy, comfortable underwear, even if no one sees them but you.
rule #104:
you're never too old for hot fudge sundaes with dad.
rule #89: it's okay to cry, and dark sunglasses help avoid nosy questions.
reflections on 29
written on the metronorth train going to new haven on the last day of me being 29
this is it - 29. my last day of being 29. tomorrow i'll be 30 - i can't beleive it. my twenties have flown - but also been jam-packed. it's kenny's birthday today, but as he and i don't talk, the only day it is to me is: the last day of 29.
when i was in my twenties, i:
this is it - 29. my last day of being 29. tomorrow i'll be 30 - i can't beleive it. my twenties have flown - but also been jam-packed. it's kenny's birthday today, but as he and i don't talk, the only day it is to me is: the last day of 29.
when i was in my twenties, i:
- got a bachelor's degree
- got an mfa
- got an mls
- wrote two novels (that are not yet published, but will be!)
- ran lots of marathons, including a PR of 3:28 at boston
- started running ultramarathons, including a bunch of 50ks, 3 50 milers, and 1 100k!
- traveled around europe for nearly four months alone
- also backpacked in brazil, costa rica & argentina
- learnt to be self-sufficient and grown-up
- got a great cat
- experienced (and am experiencing) an amazing romance with t
- went to burning man
31 May 2009
south mountain 100k
On Saturday, I ran the South Mountain 100k. It was a tough course, with three loops of two out-and-backs. Lisa and I arrived 10 minutes late, but quickly started off on the course - perhaps too quickly! We attacked the hills early on, running fast, trying to catch up with the others. 51 runners started the race, and only 11 finished - and I was pleased to be one of the 11 runners!
The first loop we were so focused on catching up that I didn't notice the difficulty of the first loop. There were rocks, roots, and plenty of hills. When we finished the first loop, we fueled up at our drop bags and headed back out. The second loop was much more runnable; there was an especially pretty meadow section that reminded us of The Sound of Music (and thanks to Lisa, I got it in my head every time we ran through the meadow). At the second out-and-back's aid station, we chatted with volunteers about the VT100 miler, VT50, and I enjoyed some delicious iced oatmeal cookies.
The first loop of 20.whatever miles was tough, but I felt strong. The second loop was difficult, but we remained in good spirits. Especially good was ice-cold watermelon at the second aid station! I def need to keep that in mind for the VT100 - it was a lovely treat. Otherwise, I ate strawberry banana gu, pretzels, some sports jelly beans.
I was in some pain miles 40-50, but pushed through it. Lisa was an amazing hiker (on the uphills we walked, she was tough to keep up with) and I struggled behind her. I felt my asthma struggle a bit (perhaps this was a precursor to the intensely scary, almost emergency-room-visit-requiring asthma attack i had today), but my albuterol kept things in line.
The last ten miles were great. I had borrowed Brennen's headlamp, which we didn't use until the very, very end (maybe the last 1/2 mile or so), and as the sun went down, we struggled on the trails. I felt great and pushed as best as I could, though I was looking forward to taking off my sneakers - I had a painful blister on my ankle I really wanted to free from the constraints of my shoe. Watermelon 5 miles from the finish really perked me up (ahhhh!) and Lisa and I ran in strong to the finish.
It was great to do an entire 100k with someone else; Lisa and I chatted, she offered lots of tips and advice from her experience in the VT100 last year. We kept each other motivated, and at a fast pace.
I woke up sore and in pain, but now, I'm almost 100%. Actually, I'm going to go pop that blister now...
The first loop we were so focused on catching up that I didn't notice the difficulty of the first loop. There were rocks, roots, and plenty of hills. When we finished the first loop, we fueled up at our drop bags and headed back out. The second loop was much more runnable; there was an especially pretty meadow section that reminded us of The Sound of Music (and thanks to Lisa, I got it in my head every time we ran through the meadow). At the second out-and-back's aid station, we chatted with volunteers about the VT100 miler, VT50, and I enjoyed some delicious iced oatmeal cookies.
The first loop of 20.whatever miles was tough, but I felt strong. The second loop was difficult, but we remained in good spirits. Especially good was ice-cold watermelon at the second aid station! I def need to keep that in mind for the VT100 - it was a lovely treat. Otherwise, I ate strawberry banana gu, pretzels, some sports jelly beans.
I was in some pain miles 40-50, but pushed through it. Lisa was an amazing hiker (on the uphills we walked, she was tough to keep up with) and I struggled behind her. I felt my asthma struggle a bit (perhaps this was a precursor to the intensely scary, almost emergency-room-visit-requiring asthma attack i had today), but my albuterol kept things in line.
The last ten miles were great. I had borrowed Brennen's headlamp, which we didn't use until the very, very end (maybe the last 1/2 mile or so), and as the sun went down, we struggled on the trails. I felt great and pushed as best as I could, though I was looking forward to taking off my sneakers - I had a painful blister on my ankle I really wanted to free from the constraints of my shoe. Watermelon 5 miles from the finish really perked me up (ahhhh!) and Lisa and I ran in strong to the finish.
It was great to do an entire 100k with someone else; Lisa and I chatted, she offered lots of tips and advice from her experience in the VT100 last year. We kept each other motivated, and at a fast pace.
I woke up sore and in pain, but now, I'm almost 100%. Actually, I'm going to go pop that blister now...
29 May 2009
trail running on the greenbelt
last saturday, i headed out for an adventure on long island. i had the entire day ahead of me, a nathan-pack full of gels, pretzels, water and sports jelly beans, and i was ready to run!
after a subway ride and the LIRR, i arrived in cold spring harbor. it's a fairy easy trek to the greenbelt from there - you cross the parking lot, make a right on 108 (i believe that's the name of the road), and make your first left. shortly after, you'll hit the trail.
i ran for hours. i got lost countless times, pushed myself whenever i could. the scenery was lovely and i mostly had a great time.
i hit rock bottom; that's what i love abt endurance running: the intensity. i had some really intense highs were i was flying up hills, running hard, pushing myself, loving every last minute of it. but then i kept getting lost - the trail was poorly marked at parts, i was getting lost, running through poison ivy, getting attacked by thorn bushes. i started to cry a little. "i can't do this anymore." were my mother home, i would have called her and asked her to pick me up. she wasn't, and i was alone. i had to figure this out for myself.
i'm glad i did. when a trail ended on a road and i couldn't find my way out of it, i ran back the way i came. it was a long run back, but it wasn't boring. it was still pretty. i found a grocery store where i was able to wash my arms and legs free from potential poison ivy; i filled up my water.
i kept running. i got lost. i couldn't find my way out of the stupid park. i kept asking for directions from some mountain bikers; we kept running into each other, all of us lost. when i found my way out, you know what i did? i ran back in on an easy trail (where i wouldn't get lost) for another hour. i wanted at least 8 hours of running.
and i ran more than that. i ran. i felt great. at the end, i was thirsty and light-headed. i ended at the same train station i started at, and collapsed on the platform in the two minutes i had before my train arrived. i ate a powerbar protein recovery bar (yum!) and drank some water. everyone stared.
i felt strong. accomplished. i feel ready for the VT100 miler. it's the mental i have to get through, and i know it will get tough, but i know i will survive.
after a subway ride and the LIRR, i arrived in cold spring harbor. it's a fairy easy trek to the greenbelt from there - you cross the parking lot, make a right on 108 (i believe that's the name of the road), and make your first left. shortly after, you'll hit the trail.
i ran for hours. i got lost countless times, pushed myself whenever i could. the scenery was lovely and i mostly had a great time.
i hit rock bottom; that's what i love abt endurance running: the intensity. i had some really intense highs were i was flying up hills, running hard, pushing myself, loving every last minute of it. but then i kept getting lost - the trail was poorly marked at parts, i was getting lost, running through poison ivy, getting attacked by thorn bushes. i started to cry a little. "i can't do this anymore." were my mother home, i would have called her and asked her to pick me up. she wasn't, and i was alone. i had to figure this out for myself.
i'm glad i did. when a trail ended on a road and i couldn't find my way out of it, i ran back the way i came. it was a long run back, but it wasn't boring. it was still pretty. i found a grocery store where i was able to wash my arms and legs free from potential poison ivy; i filled up my water.
i kept running. i got lost. i couldn't find my way out of the stupid park. i kept asking for directions from some mountain bikers; we kept running into each other, all of us lost. when i found my way out, you know what i did? i ran back in on an easy trail (where i wouldn't get lost) for another hour. i wanted at least 8 hours of running.
and i ran more than that. i ran. i felt great. at the end, i was thirsty and light-headed. i ended at the same train station i started at, and collapsed on the platform in the two minutes i had before my train arrived. i ate a powerbar protein recovery bar (yum!) and drank some water. everyone stared.
i felt strong. accomplished. i feel ready for the VT100 miler. it's the mental i have to get through, and i know it will get tough, but i know i will survive.
22 May 2009
18 May 2009
those moments
those moments come when you least expect it. like when you're in the card aisle of cvs on a break from work, picking out a father's day card for your father. you don't have a lot of time, so you decide to leave the father's day card for your grandfather until another day. (you have, after all, over a month until father's day.) and this is fine, until you realize: you may not need a father's day card for your grandfather. he is 89 and having surgery this week.
and you try not to crumple into tears with q-tips, hair elastics, toothpaste, and a father's day card for dad in your arms, and someone reaches past you to open an insipid musical card, and new york city never lets you have peace - but sometimes, it's easier this way.
and you try not to crumple into tears with q-tips, hair elastics, toothpaste, and a father's day card for dad in your arms, and someone reaches past you to open an insipid musical card, and new york city never lets you have peace - but sometimes, it's easier this way.
10 May 2009
North Face Challenge Bear Mountain 50 Miler
I was very hesitant about signing up for this race not only because the terrain is SO technical (and technical running is NOT one of my strong suits), but also because last year the cutoffs were SO tight that the majority of people who started did not finish. I did not want to have a DNF after my name, but decided the pursuit of running happiness ranked higher than the potential DNF. I signed up. I really do love running; this is what sustains me, more than most people. You know how when you go to your parents' house you go straight to the fridge, pour yourself a glass of milk and can eat cookies and talk with your parents and feel so at home? That's how I feel when I'm running. More than anything else, it's ultimately, 100% me. It's my authentic self.
Starting at 5am in rain, I quickly remembered that running with my headlamp is annoying. (I was glad when it started to get light, and removed my headlamp.) The start was difficult, with some rocks, water, splashing, downhills, more rocks, rain, and still, the feeling of excitement ran through my body.
The rain stopped after about an hour or so; I drank water in between aid stations, would fill up on oranges at the aid stations, but mainly ate my own foods, which I carried and/or left in the drop bags: strawberry banana gu, pretzels, fun-sized snickers bars, and animal crackers.
I'm not the strongest technical runner, so whenever we reached a semi-flat part or less rocky part, I pounded out those miles. People were impressed (but probably not impressed with how wussy I was on the downhills). The earlier miles I ran with a bunch of people, but was very careful on the slippery boulders I ran across. I lost them then, but passed them on some flats. It's how it goes.
One of the things I love about ultrarunning is how so much can happen in one race: I met so many people (including someone who had NEVER run on a trail before in his life!) yet also spent a good part of the race by myself, admiring nature, doing some thinking. On the parts where I was able to go fast, I got to reach that state of euphoria that only running can give me. Ah, endorphins...
Around mile 18, I ran into a guy who said he was hurting. He drank some of my water, and I ended up almost not getting my water bottle back. At the mile 20 aid station, I regrouped with Nelson, saw Matt (amazing cheerleader of the day! Go Matt!), and headed out. Shortly after this, I lost Nelson and everyone else and was running alone.
I was ecstatic to make all of the cut-off points, at the mile 34.5 cutoff, I made it with 31 minutes to spare, making up time. The volunteers were so amazing, treating me like a muddy princess.
The trails...they were up, and down, and very, very rocky. We have been having heaps of rain all week, so the paths were incredibly muddy...some of the trails were SO wet, it would appear I was running in streams, or even lakes. "We need flippers for this," one trail newbie grumbled to me. It was quite mucky and I tried not to think of snakes. Luckily, I only saw one snake, and it was a garter snake. The terrain being so wet and crazy, and me being a less confident and especially less experienced trail runner, I lost time on some of these parts.
Around mile 30, my right shin really started hurting me. I had problems with shin splints two months ago or so, and while I thought they healed totally, the pain was excruciating. It was so painful the thought of dropping out crossed my mind for one second -- "In the long run, for the health of my leg, it would probably be better" -- but then I squashed that thought. "I am not causing permanent damage, I will finish. I will not DNF." Whenever the pain got bad (which was, unfortunately, quite often, especially when I was walking or starting to run again), I thought of my grandmother -- "She has cancer, had surgery, is starting radiation -- her pain is worse than this. This is for grandma." So I continued.
The volunteers were great at all of the aid stations, grabbing my water bottles, constantly asking if I needed anything. The food selection wasn't the greatest, but I enjoyed the oranges and the occasional salty potato.
I had a lot of quiet time, wit nature, to just observe and feel free. It was a struggle, but mostly, it was pure bliss. The time between aid stations seemed enormous ("This must be way more than what they said!") but the day flew by and felt much quicker than the 12:30 it took me.
There was a horrible hill around mile 46 ("There's a bit of a hill," the volunteer at the aid station prior told me unhelpfully; it was THE WORSE hill on the whole course, and seemed to go on forever), but between the last aid station and the finish, it was mostly runnable. I flew (except for where I hit the lake that took over the trail, there I ran sloppily, hoping there were no snakes).
I came in to the finish, arms raised in the air, ecstatically happy to have completed. The course was tough, the day tested me, but ultimately, I persevered.
Starting at 5am in rain, I quickly remembered that running with my headlamp is annoying. (I was glad when it started to get light, and removed my headlamp.) The start was difficult, with some rocks, water, splashing, downhills, more rocks, rain, and still, the feeling of excitement ran through my body.
The rain stopped after about an hour or so; I drank water in between aid stations, would fill up on oranges at the aid stations, but mainly ate my own foods, which I carried and/or left in the drop bags: strawberry banana gu, pretzels, fun-sized snickers bars, and animal crackers.
I'm not the strongest technical runner, so whenever we reached a semi-flat part or less rocky part, I pounded out those miles. People were impressed (but probably not impressed with how wussy I was on the downhills). The earlier miles I ran with a bunch of people, but was very careful on the slippery boulders I ran across. I lost them then, but passed them on some flats. It's how it goes.
One of the things I love about ultrarunning is how so much can happen in one race: I met so many people (including someone who had NEVER run on a trail before in his life!) yet also spent a good part of the race by myself, admiring nature, doing some thinking. On the parts where I was able to go fast, I got to reach that state of euphoria that only running can give me. Ah, endorphins...
Around mile 18, I ran into a guy who said he was hurting. He drank some of my water, and I ended up almost not getting my water bottle back. At the mile 20 aid station, I regrouped with Nelson, saw Matt (amazing cheerleader of the day! Go Matt!), and headed out. Shortly after this, I lost Nelson and everyone else and was running alone.
I was ecstatic to make all of the cut-off points, at the mile 34.5 cutoff, I made it with 31 minutes to spare, making up time. The volunteers were so amazing, treating me like a muddy princess.
The trails...they were up, and down, and very, very rocky. We have been having heaps of rain all week, so the paths were incredibly muddy...some of the trails were SO wet, it would appear I was running in streams, or even lakes. "We need flippers for this," one trail newbie grumbled to me. It was quite mucky and I tried not to think of snakes. Luckily, I only saw one snake, and it was a garter snake. The terrain being so wet and crazy, and me being a less confident and especially less experienced trail runner, I lost time on some of these parts.
Around mile 30, my right shin really started hurting me. I had problems with shin splints two months ago or so, and while I thought they healed totally, the pain was excruciating. It was so painful the thought of dropping out crossed my mind for one second -- "In the long run, for the health of my leg, it would probably be better" -- but then I squashed that thought. "I am not causing permanent damage, I will finish. I will not DNF." Whenever the pain got bad (which was, unfortunately, quite often, especially when I was walking or starting to run again), I thought of my grandmother -- "She has cancer, had surgery, is starting radiation -- her pain is worse than this. This is for grandma." So I continued.
The volunteers were great at all of the aid stations, grabbing my water bottles, constantly asking if I needed anything. The food selection wasn't the greatest, but I enjoyed the oranges and the occasional salty potato.
I had a lot of quiet time, wit nature, to just observe and feel free. It was a struggle, but mostly, it was pure bliss. The time between aid stations seemed enormous ("This must be way more than what they said!") but the day flew by and felt much quicker than the 12:30 it took me.
There was a horrible hill around mile 46 ("There's a bit of a hill," the volunteer at the aid station prior told me unhelpfully; it was THE WORSE hill on the whole course, and seemed to go on forever), but between the last aid station and the finish, it was mostly runnable. I flew (except for where I hit the lake that took over the trail, there I ran sloppily, hoping there were no snakes).
I came in to the finish, arms raised in the air, ecstatically happy to have completed. The course was tough, the day tested me, but ultimately, I persevered.
sundays
it's weird. on sundays, i finally start to feel like my true self -- and then i realize i have to go back to work monday. true cherie for just one night, i suppose.
08 May 2009
Wise Words to Live By
"Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as man as you could."
-Louise Erdich, The Painted Drum
-Louise Erdich, The Painted Drum
04 May 2009
trying to think my way out of the "corporate box"
"i don't want to be a professional. as soon as you become a professional, half the inspiration disappears."
--larry harvey, burning man founder
--larry harvey, burning man founder
30 April 2009
29 April 2009
boston marathon 2009: 3:28!!!!
it's funny how boston is the standard of marathons. when you say, "boston" to another runner, they know you mean the boston marathon. even non-runners are impressed; while my boss came out and cheered me on at the new york city marathon (with a sign and everything!), she was so proud of my personal best time at boston ("look...look how many people you beat! you came in the 6,000s out of over 25,000 runners!") she started meetings by announcing my success. everyone knows it's THE marathon...i almost didn't do it. i qualified in the nyc marathon; i was aiming for a personal best in nyc and i got one (3:32) but then crista was doing boston...and i had to do it. crista ended up NOT doing boston, but i had already paid. "there's no refund! i have to run it."
i ran a 50k two weeks before boston, and was really nervous. i had been running longer, slower, and doing less speed overall. i didn't have super high expectations, but wanted to PR, have a good time, and run strong.
i arrived in boston full of energy. i bought two boxes of Gu at the expo (strawberry banana, yum!) and realized after the expo that i didn't have my endurolytes. these help balance my electrolyte deficincies, which my doctor and i discovered i am prone to. i hoped i would run well.
the morning started off good. i got nearly eight hours of sleep, and met a super nice guy on my bus ride. we chatted and were super runner nerds ("oooh, kara goucher!") and it helped keep me calm. i headed into my corral and chatted with a fellow new yorker, shivering. it was COLD!
after the race started, my first mile was actually kind of slow. i picked it up, cursing that i was in the last corral of the first wave. this meant i had to fight my way forward...and fight i did. but i enjoyed myself. i smiled, i waved, i ran strong, i watched my watch...i was on target for 3:22, 3:23.
of course i started feeling nausea (i'm blaming the lack of endurolytes, though it also could've been the speed i'm not used to), which slowed me down the last few miles. i refused to give in. i ate pretzels. i ate oranges, lots of them. i ate watermelon (oh. my. god. i am going to have watermelon at my 50miler next week - it was that incredible!). i tried to force down gus. i got kisses from wellsley girls. i felt great, strong, happy, alive.
coming into boston i ran into a strong headwind but kept pushing. i was disappointed my time wasn't as fast as i had hoped, but i was still PR'ing. at the finish, i didn't pass out (that's saying something for me) and was rewarded with an amazing hot cocoa but a good friend. that was probably the best hot cocoa i ever had in my life. it was SO good. i asked for more whipped cream after i ate it all, and the guy gave me a ton. fantastic!
this race was amazing because i felt good, strong, happy, and i ran fast! 3:28!
and you know what? i qualified for boston at this race. i just might have to do it again next year!
28 April 2009
i think this website read my mind
even sicker, i think i'm addicted to ultramarathons...
Are you addicted to running marathons?
Do your thoughts switch to the next scheduled race immediately after finishing a marathon?
Are you signed up for more than one race right now?
Do you know specifics about many of the marathons? Dates, courses, years run, etc.?
Do you know the story of how the marathon got started? Also why the course is 26.2 miles?
Do you read books on marathons like Marathon and Beyond?
Is www.marathonguide.com book marked on your computer? Do you look at the race schedule more than once a week?
Do you start to feel down when you haven't run a marathon in a while?
Are your closets and dressers filled with marathon t-shirts?
Do you have so many marathon medals that you've run out of room on the hook they hang from?
When asked about your racing from none running people, do you find yourself talking with great passion to the point that the person that asked the question regrets ever asking?
Have you run marathons on back to back weekends? Or better yet back to back days?
Have you run a marathon as a training run? Or just to pace a friend?
When asked by loved ones what your plans are for the weekend, you feel guilty telling them your running another marathon so you tell them "it's only a half this weekend"?
Do you plan all your vacations around a marathon race?
Well if you answered yes to any of these questions, you just may be a Marathon Maniac!!!
21 April 2009
17 April 2009
what sustains me
in my mfa program, anne waldman had us do a writing exercise on what sustains us. i can't currently find the results of what sustained me, but i'm pretty sure what sustained me back in 2001 is very different than what sustains me now.
what sustains me:
what sustains me:
- running
- my family
- trev
- my home life, inc. luna & vegetarian cooking
- burning man type parties where i can wear fairy wings and truly be myself
- writing
the importance of the important
lately, i've really been evaluating my life and seeing what is important. my grandma has recurrent melanoma; it's an extremely aggressive form of cancer. it came back again in her leg, and so there's been lots of talk abt no chemo, abt surgery, abt radiation, abt what-to-do. my gram is getting surgery, then radiation, and it's a scary, sad, hard process.
last week, after much thought and decision, t and i drove down to florida. (or rather, he drove all but one hour and i sat in the passenger seat, babbling and knitting and dozing.) it was great seeing my grandparents, but i think the worst thing, was the talk of "what-would-happen-to-papa [my grandpa]-should-something-happen-to-gram"? i realized that quite possibly, not only would i lose one grandparent in a short period of time, but two. gram makes sure papa eats, takes care of himself, doesn't drink too much, and she gives him love and life.
"i can't comprehend it!" i told t as we drove to easter dinner. "i can't imagine...i can't imagine what it would be like."
shortly after, i curled into the fetal position as t drove. "you okay?" he asked, and i replied quite honestly, "no." we drove in silence until shortly after, racking hysterical sobs overtook my body. i couldn't control it and he pulled over when he could and held me as i cried.
a coworker called me the next day, freaking out abt a petty deadline. i had no sympathy. how can i? my grandmother is sick, this is life or death. it's so hard to care about things like deadlines and formatting on a document and when someone says "i need this urgently" i know they don't. you need oxygen, food, water, and not cancer to live, not some stupid research.
this situation has forced me to think a lot abt my life, abt how i am not living like i want to live...and i'm starting to make changes. small ones, but i need to write more, live more, spend more time with my family and less time with petty bs.
last week, after much thought and decision, t and i drove down to florida. (or rather, he drove all but one hour and i sat in the passenger seat, babbling and knitting and dozing.) it was great seeing my grandparents, but i think the worst thing, was the talk of "what-would-happen-to-papa [my grandpa]-should-something-happen-to-gram"? i realized that quite possibly, not only would i lose one grandparent in a short period of time, but two. gram makes sure papa eats, takes care of himself, doesn't drink too much, and she gives him love and life.
"i can't comprehend it!" i told t as we drove to easter dinner. "i can't imagine...i can't imagine what it would be like."
shortly after, i curled into the fetal position as t drove. "you okay?" he asked, and i replied quite honestly, "no." we drove in silence until shortly after, racking hysterical sobs overtook my body. i couldn't control it and he pulled over when he could and held me as i cried.
a coworker called me the next day, freaking out abt a petty deadline. i had no sympathy. how can i? my grandmother is sick, this is life or death. it's so hard to care about things like deadlines and formatting on a document and when someone says "i need this urgently" i know they don't. you need oxygen, food, water, and not cancer to live, not some stupid research.
this situation has forced me to think a lot abt my life, abt how i am not living like i want to live...and i'm starting to make changes. small ones, but i need to write more, live more, spend more time with my family and less time with petty bs.
16 April 2009
09 April 2009
06 April 2009
i won (kinda)
i ran sunday's forest park 50k in forest park, queens. lured by the fact that a race was a mere 15 min drive away (thanks, t!) or even a subway ride, i had to do it!
the course was 2.6 miles, which we did 13 times. the organizers were all super friendly and great, and they had a pretty nice aid station (potatoes, cookies, chips, pretzels, soda, gatorade, water, etc.). i mostly ate my own food (2 gels, gummybears, a mini-snickers bar, pretzels), but ate potatoes dipped in salt and drank gatorade. yum!
the field was pretty small - i think they said there were 14 runners. there was only one other woman, and she dropped out after the 6th lap. whenever i passed, the race directors would shout, "the leading woman!" i would say, "but i'm the only woman!"
i didn't go all out -- i have boston in two weeks, and was using this as a training run. there were some pretty steep hills -- hills that you walk in an ultra. i ran until a certain point (which i kept the same each lap -- "just make it to that tree, cherie," i'd tell myself) and then walked. and then i started running at another certain point.
the hills were great practice for vermont -- one of the race directors told me he trained for vermont on these trails, walking up and running down one of the hills. i definitely plan on doing that.
when i finished, i got a trophy that said WINNER which pleased me -- probably the only time that will happen in an ultra. 5:43:03 -- my personal best for a 50k. after, i ate lots of veggies and went to the beach with t. it was a really nice day! t asked me, "are you happy?" and i said, "of course! i ran a 50k on great trails, and now i'm on the beach with you. what could be better?"
what indeed?
the course was 2.6 miles, which we did 13 times. the organizers were all super friendly and great, and they had a pretty nice aid station (potatoes, cookies, chips, pretzels, soda, gatorade, water, etc.). i mostly ate my own food (2 gels, gummybears, a mini-snickers bar, pretzels), but ate potatoes dipped in salt and drank gatorade. yum!
the field was pretty small - i think they said there were 14 runners. there was only one other woman, and she dropped out after the 6th lap. whenever i passed, the race directors would shout, "the leading woman!" i would say, "but i'm the only woman!"
i didn't go all out -- i have boston in two weeks, and was using this as a training run. there were some pretty steep hills -- hills that you walk in an ultra. i ran until a certain point (which i kept the same each lap -- "just make it to that tree, cherie," i'd tell myself) and then walked. and then i started running at another certain point.
the hills were great practice for vermont -- one of the race directors told me he trained for vermont on these trails, walking up and running down one of the hills. i definitely plan on doing that.
when i finished, i got a trophy that said WINNER which pleased me -- probably the only time that will happen in an ultra. 5:43:03 -- my personal best for a 50k. after, i ate lots of veggies and went to the beach with t. it was a really nice day! t asked me, "are you happy?" and i said, "of course! i ran a 50k on great trails, and now i'm on the beach with you. what could be better?"
what indeed?
21 March 2009
you know you're an ultrarunner when...
you think adding vanilla energy gel or plain energy gel to your coffee to sweeten it is a good idea.
i kid you not. my friend nelson told me this during our long run today!
i kid you not. my friend nelson told me this during our long run today!
17 March 2009
becoming a 100% athlete
i've really been focused on my training a lot lately; i'm training for the vermont 100 this july, and i've never been this focused on my training -- i try to go to the gym 2-3 times a week for strength training, cross-train (if possible) 1-2 times per week, and i run 5 days a week or so. i've been doubling up on some days as well, and it helps that my job is a very managable easy run - plus not much longer than taking the subway! it's much nicer running than it is being crammed in a subway car, standing, and waiting forever at hoyt-schemerhorn for the G. i try to incorporate at least 1 day of speed, 1 day of plyometrics, and 1 long run day.
i've also been focusing on my nutrition a little more. i eat really healthy generally -- pretty much all whole grains (except trevor's semolina/white flour pasta which is to die for!), veggies, fruits, dairy, eggs, nuts, very little processed foods (ironically, many of my "running snacks" are processed in some sort of way -- GU, energy bars, pretzels). i have a huge sweet tooth, and recently decided to try to limit my sweet intake. it's been a week and a half and i haven't had any sweets (save honey in my tea) -- which is huge for me, considering i have three kinds of girl scout cookies (thanks, mom!) and grandma's cookies in my house (in the freezer).
if running is such a big part of my life, i need to treat my body very well. i find that eating all this good stuff -- lots of greens, protein, and all-around yumminess -- i'm often not hungry for sweets. i'm SO proud of myself knowing how much i love sweets. the more i've stayed away, the less i crave them. in fact, i don't even want them! how bizarre is that!?
i know i'll be eating sweets again, but i think cutting them out for this short period has made me understand how important it is for me to eat as healthy as possible. i'm trying to eat often (low blood sugar makes me ill if i don't eat often enough -- i get very lightheaded and it's scary) and well and i feel quite healthy.
i feel ready to run!
i've also been focusing on my nutrition a little more. i eat really healthy generally -- pretty much all whole grains (except trevor's semolina/white flour pasta which is to die for!), veggies, fruits, dairy, eggs, nuts, very little processed foods (ironically, many of my "running snacks" are processed in some sort of way -- GU, energy bars, pretzels). i have a huge sweet tooth, and recently decided to try to limit my sweet intake. it's been a week and a half and i haven't had any sweets (save honey in my tea) -- which is huge for me, considering i have three kinds of girl scout cookies (thanks, mom!) and grandma's cookies in my house (in the freezer).
if running is such a big part of my life, i need to treat my body very well. i find that eating all this good stuff -- lots of greens, protein, and all-around yumminess -- i'm often not hungry for sweets. i'm SO proud of myself knowing how much i love sweets. the more i've stayed away, the less i crave them. in fact, i don't even want them! how bizarre is that!?
i know i'll be eating sweets again, but i think cutting them out for this short period has made me understand how important it is for me to eat as healthy as possible. i'm trying to eat often (low blood sugar makes me ill if i don't eat often enough -- i get very lightheaded and it's scary) and well and i feel quite healthy.
i feel ready to run!
15 March 2009
14 March 2009
ultrarunning is not unhealthy
a great post here!
whenever my mom says, "all that running is bad for you," i reply, "i eat a vegetarian, whole-grain, primarily organic diet. i sleep 7-8 hours a night, strength train, stretch, cross-train, do yoga, and yes, i run a ridiculous amount. once you start working on five days a week [as is now recommended] and stop eating fast food and all that processed crap, we can talk."
i love my mom but i wish she would not nag me; i'll nag her when she nags me. she is getting better, exercising more. she just needs to kick that damn nutrasweet habit.
whenever my mom says, "all that running is bad for you," i reply, "i eat a vegetarian, whole-grain, primarily organic diet. i sleep 7-8 hours a night, strength train, stretch, cross-train, do yoga, and yes, i run a ridiculous amount. once you start working on five days a week [as is now recommended] and stop eating fast food and all that processed crap, we can talk."
i love my mom but i wish she would not nag me; i'll nag her when she nags me. she is getting better, exercising more. she just needs to kick that damn nutrasweet habit.
10 March 2009
08 March 2009
get ready to vomit
Vatican defends rape-abortion case excommunication
A senior Vatican cleric has defended the excommunication of the mother and doctors of a 9-year-old girl who had an abortion in Brazil after being raped.
WTF!?!?!? The church is SO messed up.
02 March 2009
28 February 2009
running in nyc
on friday, i thought i'd do at least 30-40 miles, but that wasn't in the plans. sometimes, you need to listen to your body. my head and overall body felt disoriented; i think it was electrolyte deficiency, and i was taking endurolytes, but apparently, not enough. i only ran 23 or 24 mile, but had some good times. i saw some pretty amazing street scenes in chinatown, the kind of scenes that make you think you are in a foreign country. today i ran 15 miles and have spent the rest of the day doing stuff for work (ugh) and knitting and chilling with t. tomorrow i'm volunteering at a 5ok and a wintry mix (the dreaded wintry mix!) is predicted. spring can't come soon enough!
23 February 2009
thinking back on 2009
when i made my new year's resolutions a few months ago, i of course had the ones we all have -- you know, lose weight, keep a cleaner house, whatever. but i had a few that i really stuck to:
- be a better girlfriend. i realized t was putting a ton of effort into the relationship, and really supporting me in ways most people couldn't. ("honey, i'm going for a run tomorrow. i'm leaving at 7 a.m. and returning 4 p.m. then i'll be too tired to do anything but eat and shower. you don't mind me not being present on sat, do you?") so i've tried to be a better girlfriend and not letting running take over my life as much as it sometimes does.
- be less busy. i remember crista and i sitting on a rock on christmas day in bariloche. the weather was beautiful (80s), sunny, and the town quiet. we had some relaxing good meals, lovely desserts, and wonderful conversations. we both realized how stressed we always are, and how busy. and i vowed to be less busy. it's been hard but i've done it. i've cut out the excess shit (you know, the big group dinner you didn't have fun at anyway, the networking event you hated going to, the errands you really should combine into one trip instead of three...) and i feel calmer. i try to get friends who have more time to come to me -- or i'll combine two birds with one stone by inviting friends over to have dinner with me (i'm eating a lot of yummy homemade awesome foods lately) or share some of my extensive tea collection. i feel less stressed and like i have more time. t and i have had some lovely quiet nights at home, which is truly feeling more and more like a home for the two of us.
15 February 2009
buenos aires, part II
ringing in the new year with my girl!
beautiful statues at recoletta.
and of course, eva's resting place at the recoletta cemetary.
they call this food. crista and i were very frightened.
with some new friends at museum club (wearing cute new dress -- crista and i shopped heaps!)when it was time to leave, i was sad, but psyched to get home to good food!
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