Mahlon Mayhem

Sometimes, things we cannot control prevent us from accomplishing things we want to accomplish, and things we are capable of doing.

I signed up for the Mahlon Mayhem, determined to do the 100k as a training run for October's Javelina Jundred. I figured I'd take it easy, enjoy the day, have a good time, and get some good miles in. Unfortunately, my body disagreed.

Over a week and a half ago, I first noticed horrible stomach pains. The next day, I felt even worse and went home sick from worse. I could only sleep or couldn't sleep because of the pain, but found anything else (including eating, drinking, walking, running) near impossible. I went to the doctor and they did a ton of tests but were unable to determine anything. The next step is a catscan or sonogram of my abdominal area.

I was really hoping my stomach would feel better, well enough to run. I woke up at 1am before the race feeling absolutely nauseous. I wondered if I'd be able to run. I ate a simple bagel with a little butter for breakfast at 4am, and mostly felt tired.

Unfortunately, the stomach troubles started fairly early, maybe mile 3 or 4 or 6 - something like that. It was stabbing stomach pain, excruciating, sometimes queasiness. I tried to eat, but the only things I ate during the race were a few saletines, some gummi bears, and one gel. Nothing else sounded appetizing.

My friend Shannon was also feeling awful - she has some terrible little tumor-like bumps on the bottom of her feet and was in ridiculous pain so we stuck together - walking a lot, telling stories of ridiculous ex-boyfriends, races, coworkers, dreams of life. We pushed each other when we both wanted to just lie down at the side of the trail.

The course itself was great. It was a 7.5 mile loop (though those with GPS told me it was 8miles). You start out on single-track, lots of ups and downs and rocks but most of it was fairly runnable (with some lovely hills in there for us feeling-crappy runners to enjoy). Then you get to a rail trail and run out for maybe 2 miles - it was pretty, and at one point, Shannon and I saw a snake. Others apparently saw bears. Then you turn around at a mini-aid station (water, heed, pretzels, random other things) and head back on the rail trail another 2 miles. You're back on single track, hills, mud, prettiness. And then you get back to the main aid station, with an amazing buffet that only Rick is capable of - pretzels, oranges, watermelon, pbj, crackers, cookies, gummi bears, M&Ms, etc.

I felt so horrible that each step was agony. Shannon convinced me, "We'll do the 75k. Don't drop down to the 50k." By the fourth loop, she was in so much pain (as was I) that we mutually agreed to do the 50k.

When we finished, we were both relieved. My stomach continued to hurt and I felt more sad than anything. I don't know what's going on with my stomach, but I hope it's nothing serious. At least I got 50k in, some good time on a beautiful day on lovely trails getting to know Shannon even more (she's usually ahead of me), so it was a wonderful day after all. 

Why We Run Ultras

"... Perhaps the genius of ultrarunning is its supreme lack of utility. It makes no sense in a world of space ships and supercomputers to run vast distances on foot. There is no money in it and no fame, frequently not even the approval of peers. But as poets, apostles and philosophers have insisted from the dawn of time, there is more to life than logic and common sense. The ultra runners know this instinctively. And they know something else that is lost on the sedentary. They understand, perhaps better than anyone, that the doors to the spirit will swing open with physical effort. In running such long and taxing distances they answer a call from the deepest realms of their being -- a call that asks who they are ..."

- David Blaikie

Burning Man Ultramarathon - First Ever 50k in Black Rock City!

As the days get closer to Burning Man, I'm getting more and more excited about not just the amazing festival that is Burning Man, but also about the Burning Man 50k. Running an ultramarathon at Burning Man was a dream of mine since my very first Burn, and I am so excited that I will actually be doing it. In the beginning, I was worried it would just be me, Murray and Jon, but it looks like we'll have a solid crowd. There's 35 people who have sent in their RSVP full info to me, but 83 people on our Facebook page said they were going to do it!

This year, packing is an additional struggle b/c I'm including finishers' rewards, Heed, numbers, and other assorted supplies needed for the race. Also, I'll bring my fuel belt, some gels, extra endurolytes. And of course, what costume should I run in? I'm thinking my favorite tutu might be good (with some Saucony sneakers and a sports bra!) - and body glide everywhere that it can possibly go!


Yesterday, we got some unexpected media attention! Wired magazine picked up on it, and wrote an article (without reaching out to me), "Burning Man Readies for Its First Ultramarathon." So exciting! And now this additional media attention has a few more runners reaching out to me! We also got in another website, Blisstree, on "Burning Man Ultramarathon: Things We'll Never Do." They make it sound unappealing! Honey, this is nothing compared to Badwater or Marathon Des Sables (Sahara MultiDay).


One guy wrote me, saying he had always wanted to go...and now he's in the midst of a divorce and thinking abt it. I encouraged him to come, telling him my story. (Talking to God about how unhappy I was in my previous relationship; God gave me some great advice.) I told him he'd def get a lot of clarity into his life, his relationship, his future.

Burning Man is a week long party, yes, but it's also a lot more. I'm excited for those quiet moments I'll have - running around the playa in the ultramarathon, riding my bike to a friend's camp across the playa, wandering around in deep playa late at night to look at art...I know I'll get a lot more clarity abt what I want and need and what I'm looking for. I know, but it will also provide the necessary motivation for me to move forward. Funny, it has a reputation as being a place for drugs, but this year, Burning Man will be attracting a new group of addicts: endrophin junkies.

Training Run at Bear Mountain!

My girls and I went for a great 4.5 hour run at Bear Mountain. There were stomach aches, hills, great views, more hills, tripping, peeing behind bushes, mud, freaking out about running out of water, talking about the deliciousness of chocolate Accelegels (that was all me, on the chocolate Accelegels...like pudding, I tell you!), talking about boys, and stupid men, and bad dates, and good dates, and what we did last night...Andrea and I were collectively on less than 2.5 hours sleep, but we substituted some caffeine for sleep, and all that dancing I did the night before - I'm pretty sure it's what propelled me up those hills.

\

 

Upcoming Races!

I'm really excited about some of my upcoming races....

• Mahlon Mayhem 100k - August 14
• Burning Man 50k - September 1st (I'm also the RD for it, so sign up!)
• Virgil Crest 50 Miler - September 25
• Javelina Jundred - October 23-24
• NYC Marathon - November 7
• Fuego y Agua 100k - December 13

Next Next Next

Just got off the phone with Johnny. We were talking about how our lives have changed so much since the last Burn (we measure time in terms of Burning Man), and how much we've both grown separately. I think back to last summer - unhappy, in a complicated and noncommunicative relationship, and I realize how much better off I am alone.

Thus, a song I can't stop singing:

Bad or good, misunderstood
Inside we're all the same
Time will fly by, your love may lie to you
Get on up and try again

Be colour blind, not narrow minded
Playing silly games
The time has come to unify
And live in peace again

There are times in my life
When I wish the world was a better place
No more war and no more pain
No more suffering and no more hate

When we could all reach for the stars
Nothing to stand in our way
Forward, onward, upward
Together

Music is the key, together we are strong
And nothing is impossible
If you see the beauty that's in everyone
Music mends and heals all broken hearts

Life's a lonesome journey if
We try it on our own
It's better to move together
Than to try and walk alone

Concerned, be wary of the dangers
Out there in the night
Step out of the darkness people
And come into the light

There are times in my life
When I wish the world was a better place
No more war and no more pain
No more suffering and no more hate

When we could all reach for the stars
Nothing to stand in our way
Forward, onward, upward
Together

Music is... music is the... music... music is the key

Vermont 100 Race Report - 2010!

My goal heading into the Vermont 100 Miler this year was to not have a repeat of last year's performance, and to buckle! I DID IT!

I had an excellent crew this year - Matt, who runs with my running club. He's a fast marathoner and has never run an ultra, but he crewed Nelson, Gisel and I at the Bear Mountain 50 Miler last year. (The above picture is of me and Matt, before the start. Matt paced me from Camp Ten Bear at Mile 70 to Bill's Barn at 88, and he also paced from 95 to 97. After the race, Matt told me he wants to do the Vermont 100. I told him I'd pace him. I'm so excited he's caught the ultramarathon bug.)

Deirdre, a 2:41 marathoner, was also crewing me, and she paced me miles 88-100. She ran the Caumsett 50k in an incredible time, and if she focused on ultramarathons, I know she'd be up there with some of the top women, even winning races.  Both of them were incredibly helpful and motivational. They applied sunscreen, fed me fudgy brownies (and helped me wipe off the chocolate all over my face afterwards), wiped my feet of dirt, ignored me as I peed practically next to them, encouraged me to eat, pushed me to run faster. Having an excellent crew was super helpful in pushing me towards my goal time.

The race started at 4 a.m. Early starts are tough and I had, er, trouble going to the bathroom. I only slept 3.5 hours, and was super nervous. I didn't want a repeat of last year, and didn't feel as strong as I could. I was burned out/overtrained in April, had surgery and two forced weeks off in May, and have had trouble mentally and physically motivating myself to do as many long and tough runs as I really needed. All these thoughts fluttered through my head at the starting line as Deirdre and Matt pumped me up.

I met a lot of ultrarunners from the Ultra List, who recognized me from my description, including the John "Non-Sherpa" Lacroix and Alan Geraldi.

I felt strong as I went out in the beginning. I forgot about all the trails (single and double track) early on, and yes, even some hills. Wait, why are there so many steep hills? I thought this was rolling hills. Apparently, my memory blocked so much of the pain and I need to remember to re-read this blog posting before I do the Vermont 100 Miler again - which I will. I didn't have a cheap flashlight because I forgot. Last year I never got my extra headlamp back, and didn't remember it being so dark. Well, it was. Next year, I'm bringing a cheap flashlight and leaving it at the first aid station.

I met a nice guy who worked for Deloitte, where I was once a junior librarian. We chatted for a while, and I ran with him on and off a few times. I felt the pace was a little tough, but I knew I could handle it. I don't push myself enough and I need to. I ran with a lot of different people at this point, having all sorts of interesting casual conversations. It was nice to get to know so many different runners, and best of all, hear their stories of other races I should do.

It got hot quickly. I filled my water bottle at each aid station. Knowing what I should drink, I kept to just under one bottle between each aid station. That way, I wasn't overhydrating. I also enjoyed the wonderful feeling of squirting water on the back of my neck.

In the meadows early on, a la Sound of Music, I forgot about the amazing views, the hills...wow, this was a wonderful race.

In between South Pomfret and Pretty House, my stomach began hurting a lot. I tried eating gels and ended up squeezing a half a Strawberry Banana Gu out, which is my favourite gel. At Pretty House, Deirdre was there with a huge amazing smile! She gave me a Zico coconut water - and it was amazing. It really helped me feel better. I grabbed more Power Gel Blasts, changed my shirt (it was soaked with sweat already - some people started out with long sleeved shirts, which was crazy!), and ran off. She told me I was doing great with time.

I had my times taped onto my water bottle, but I taped them on poorly and I ended up ripping them off as I shoved my bottle in and out of my pack. I recommend doing this very neatly and well - I did this with Umstead and it really worked out.

My stomach felt a lot better. The coconut water really settled it. I picked up the pace a lot. I drank water, chatted with new people, and had fun. I felt strong and was happy my stomach had recovered.

When I arrived at Stage Road, Deirdre and Matt weren't there; they had to drop Iliana off at the start. I got a volunteer to spray me with sunscreen (I don't want skin cancer getting in the way of my ultrarunning - but seriously, my grandma has recurrent melanoma so I try to be good about sunscreen). I pushed on.

I met a really nice guy, Grant, who was doing the Grand Slam. I know others who have trained for it/done it, but somehow, his casual chattering about it, made me want to do it. We ran together, talking about running in the Bay Area, ultrarunning lifestyles, races, life. We got to the aid station (the one at the top of the hill) and I told him how the year before, I told the two guys I had been running with, Jon and Shane, how this should be on a calendar of pretty New England. He agreed. 

I somehow lost a little bag of Endurolytes and he gave me some S-caps and told me I should switch over - apparently, S-Caps have a lot more sodium than endurolytes. (I did notice at my best 50miler I took exclusively S-caps and felt great....) We enjoyed amazing popsicles, hosed ourselves down, had some random guy hose us down...and then headed into "Agony."

I don't remember "Agony." I must have a terrible memory. This section was awful. Steep hills. Roots. Walking. Running and tripping. Up. Pant. Inhaler. Inhaler. Pant. Ow. Sore. Slow. Trip. Run. Conversation doesn't distract enough. Keep pushing.

It was lovely to finish "Agony."

Grant and I probably ran together for nearly 20 miles but my stomach started hurting again. I let him go ahead, and when I got to the next aid station, I paused to get ginger ale on ice, clutch my stomach. I left the aid station with the cup of iced ginger ale and walked for a little bit, sipping the drink. It sucked because I was walking this flat part across a meadow, but I just could not run. My stomach hurt too much.

Eventually, I felt well enough to run. I began running, and pushed myself to make up for lost time. I chatted with Norm, and with random ultrarunners.

I got to Camp Ten Bear, and Deirdre and Matt were amazingly positive. "You're ahead of your pace, you're doing wonderful." Matt sprayed sunscreen on me; I was just wearing a sports bra and running skirt at this point. It was too hot to wear anything else. They bought me an amazing fudge brownie and I chowed down. Yum. I drank another coconut water. I changed my socks and Matt insisted upon wiping the dirt from my feet - nicest friend ever. Best of all, I lost one pound - excellent for a day in the upper 80s! (Last year I had gained 5 pounds between Camp Ten Bear 1 & 2, and a lot of people usually lose weight with dehydration.)

I left Ten Bear feeling good. I ran with different people. It was sunny, it was hot, but I felt good. I enjoyed the scenery, chatting with strangers who became friends. I thought about how my life had changed since last year, how much I loved the sport of ultrarunning.

At Tracer Brook, Deirdre was there again with Matt, about to win most cheerful crew of the year award. They gave me more Power Gel Blasts, and I didn't think I'd see her until Camp Ten Bear, but she told me she'd be at Margaritaville. Matt would need to rest before running.

I pushed it. I felt strong. I ran as fast as I could. I never ran so many of the hills. When I had to walk, my pace kept slogging slow (despite trying to "walk with a purpose" like another ultrarunner told me at last March's Umstead 100 Miler), so whenever there was a "shallow" hill, I ran it. I passed a lot of people.

At every aid station, I asked for my bottle to be filled to the top with ice and then have water added. By the time I'd get to the next aid station, the ice would all be melted, and the water approaching lukewarm.

At Margaritaville, I chatted with the friendly, amazing volunteer, ate two chocolate chip cookies (and took one for the road; I wish I had taken more later on!). I gave Deirdre another hug, and drank another coconut water on ice.

 

About 50 meters after I left the aid station, my stomach went south. I headed behind the nearest tree. I began walking for a bit, and then slowly running. For almost a mile after I left the aid station, I felt awful.

And then I felt amazing. Hill? Ha. I'll run up you. Downhill - I'm speeding down. I felt so great, I ran so amazingly fast.

The next aid station had Capri Sun, Wild Cherry Flavour. It was amazing and so delicious and I think that should be a standard ultrarunning drink (along with coconut water!). Yum. 

I passed a bunch of people. Feeling great, I even started singing. I'm embarrassed, but it was a Pink song that dominated my run ("So What?") along with a Sarah McLeod song ("He Doesn't Love You"). I'm sure the runners I passed thought I was insane.

When I got to Camp Ten Bear, it was VERY unlike the year before (when it had been dark). Deirdre was shocked I came back so quickly ("You were so fast!") and Matt had just woken up. I drank another coconut water on ice (I drank a total of seven during the race, and they REALLY helped. They settled my stomach, gave me electrolytes, did not make my stomach feel "sloshy" like water or Heed does.), told them how my stomach had been hurting. 

I completely changed my outfit, grabbing a long-sleeved tshirt I never wore (but that helped with the awful chafing my fuel belt was giving me). My weight was stable with just one pound having been lost. I strapped on my head lamp, which I didn't really need until I almost got to West Winds.

I ate a bit of a grilled cheese sandwich. I grabbed more sports beans and Power Gel blasts, and pretzels. The race I mostly consumed just these items (and animal crackers, with the occasional random other thing). Matt and I took off.

Matt was a great pacer. He was super motivational, pushed me at times when I didn't want to be pushed, and was really genuinely enjoying himself. "This is so cool. How beautiful!" He identified trees, birds singing, owls. I told him stories from the race, dating stories, stuff about my life. He told me funny stories as well, including Boy Scout Camp stories. 

At West Winds/Spirit of 77, Deirdre was there with tons of energy. When we ran up to the aid station, they had white paper bags with candles in them. The aid station was decorated with fun red, white and blue lights and decor. I ate some animal crackers, drank half of a 5-hour energy shot, and we took off.

"My stomach hurts..."

Again, we did some walking. Matt entertained me with stories. At one point, we stopped to walk for a minute and Matt was like, "Let's run. It's a downhill." 

I replied, "My stomach hurts. I can't." 

"No, it's a downhill. Let's run." 

"NO! My stomach hurts. I CANNOT RUN!"

Matt pushed me so much. At one point, he simply said, "Buckle," and I pushed faster.

At one of the unmanned aid stations, Matt accidentally got me lemon-lime Heed. I only drink water WHILE running, and he ran over a quarter mile back to the aid station to get me water. Amazing.

Mile 88. Finally. I was out of it. I wasn't consuming enough calories because my stomach hurt, but again, I only lost 1 pound. I drank my another coconut water on ice. Matt wanted to continue on, but there was confusion about the car. It was agreed he'd meet us at 95.

Deirdre was super cheerful. We exchanged all sorts of stories, and hit some pretty tricky trails. At one point, we had to stop and wait for this woman and her horse to climb some stone wall, and the horse was really freaked out.

We saw beautiful stars. There was heat lightning in the distance which miraculously, never came close enough to us. 

I began hallucinating a little bit. I saw this big brown-and-white house that was only trees. I saw a deer. I saw a weird-looking man with a beard, lying down, hugging a tree. I saw a few other random things. It was nothing too crazy.

My stomach kept hurting on and off. Somehow, the Power Gel Blasts Matt and Deirdre packed for me didn't make it into my pockets...or they fell out. I kept being like, "But I wanted them! That's what I want to eat!" Deirdre tried to rationalize with me, "But eat something else. You don't have them. Have your jelly beans." 

was a little irrational - no, very irrational, and she was very patient.

At Mile 95, we met Matt. He started asking me what I wanted, and I said, "We gotta leave! NOW! WE ONLY HAVE AN HOUR AND FORTY FIVE MINUTES!" The previous year, that is what it had taken me to get to the finish from Polly's. I needed to run faster to get sub-24 hours, which is what I wanted more than anything else. They tried to calm me down, but I was insane. "I have to make it. I need to. I can't not make it!"

Matt gave me coconut water on ice, and I walked fast while drinking it. "More!" He looked confused and I grabbed it out of his hand. "I wanted more! Faster!" I was a little insane at this point. I chugged the coconut water, chewed on some ice and tossed the rest of the ice on the ground, and ran with the container and cup in my bra. Matt looked confused but didn't take offense.

We pushed it as fast as I possibly could, and Deirdre commented on how tricky some of the final trails were. "That's mean!" 

I felt awful. Matt had ran back to the car around Mile 97 so he'd be there at the finish. "Tell me a story. Distract me. Tell me a story!" I asked Deirdre. 

She couldn't think. "Uh...a minute...uhh...." 

"A story!" 

"I'm trying to think...I'm sorry!" 

"What did you do for your birthday?"

And that is how we discussed what Deirdre did for her birthday. 

I cannot begin to thank Matt and Deirdre enough for all they did for me. They were wonderful.

I pushed on, passing people. I'd think, "Buckle," and pick up the pace, even if we were on a hill.

And the one mile sign...and then the half mile sign....

And the finish. Victory was so sweet. Sub-24 hours! I raised my hands, I was so grateful and so happy. I was screaming, hugging, so full of joy and happiness. 

23:35:55!!!!!!!

 

I had worked so hard, wanted it so bad, and completed it. Iliana (who ran 40miles of the 100k) was now volunteering and put a medal around my neck. Tom took a photo of me for his "Before and After" photo project. I began exchanging stories with the other runners and volunteers. 

45% of the runners dropped out. It was in the upper 80s, humid. Some aid stations (the unmanned ones) were out of water/running out; many lacked ice. The heat messed with a lot of people's stomachs.

I think a few things pushed me to get a PR for this course of 5.5 hours:

Coconut Water

Matt & Deirdre's amazing help

My desire for revenge - I wanted to prove myself on this course!

The helpfulness of other runners - I lost my electrolyte pills twice and had strangers help me

The amazing, friendly volunteers

The beautiful scenery

Changing into shoes a half size bigger at Mile 70

Good songs in my head

Good cookies at Margaritaville and that brownie at Camp Ten Bear the first time

Tums

Lifesaver Mints

On the course:

Very well-marked

They weigh you the day before, at Mile 47.2, 70, 88 

The food at the aid stations is pretty decent - watermelon, chips (no pretzels!), m&ms, potatoes, bananas, oranges, plus some aid stations have homemade cookies (I LOVE Margaritaville), grilled cheese, burgers, sandwiches, more.

Nice volunteers

Great scenery

Hilly

Not too many technical trails

Lots of drop bags

Lots of aid stations

I'll be back for more. In fact, if I get into Western States 100 Miler next year, well, I think I'll have to sign up for the Grand Slam.

Kaleidescope

Because running isn't the only thing I do. Sometimes I go to parties. Parties where we take the ferry to Governor's Island dressed in a monochromatic theme, or as a rainbow. Parties where we dance on the island, and then journey around in parade format in a tunnel, a ferry, and take the 1 train up to Christopher Street. Parties where we take over the street, giving hugs and cupcakes and candy. Parties where we hoop and dance and drum on the pier on the Hudson. Parties where we take the train up to 72nd St and dance to a sound system on the back of a bike in front of the Museum of Natural History. Parties where we take the 1 train to 125th, then the A all the way up to 190th St, and then to Fort Tryon Park. Parties where there is hooping with fire and fire spinning and fire poi and views of the GWB and strangers exchanging hugs, sips of delicious liquor, grapes, kisses, drums...Because getting at the essence of humanity is at my very core as much as running is.

Packing List for Vermont 100!

• 3 sports bras
• 3 tank tops
• 3 running skirts
• 3 pairs of underwear
• 6 pairs of socks
• 2 sneakers
• rain jacket
• thin long-sleeved shirt
• warmer running shirt
• two visors
• 2-3 pairs of gloves
• Sunscreen (spray on – give to crew)
• baby wipes
• body glide (add extra sample backs to various drop bags)
• pack of tissues
• foradil (asthma medicine)
• albuertol (asthma medicine)
• 20 gels (though I never eat this many)
• 5 sports chews (power gel strawberry blasts)
• 4 sports beans
• 30 endurolytes
• gaiters
• velcro for gaiters
• Hydration belt
• 2 water bottles
• 2 5-hour energy shot (one for drop bag at Mile 70, another for Mile 76 or 88)
• Ziploc bags
• sunglasses
• headlamps (2)
• extra batteries
• Advil
• Imodium
• ginger candies
• for post race: sandals, fleece socks, comfy pants, warm hoodie, clean undies, t-shirt, flip flops
• Marker & tape & Post-it notes for Drop Bags
• 8 Bags for Drop Bags

 

To buy:

·         Animal crackers

·         Gummi Bears

·         Snickers

·         Pretzels

Can't Stop Listening to this Song

It's great background music while I pack my drop bags for the Vermont 100...

Vermont 100 Interview!

Sherpa John interviewed me on his blog about the Vermont 100 - check it out!

Tapering Down...

I'm getting more and more excited about the Vermont 100....just a week and a half to go until I run 100 miles in the beautiful hills of Vermont. I know when I'm in the midst of it, I'm going to think, "I was psyched to run this?" 100 miles is SO full of ups and downs, pain, insanity, tears, joy, sweat, aches, and more - but I love how it ultimately gets at WHO you are.

I cannot wait.

Today was my last weight lifting session. I've been cutting down my mileage, trying to rest more. I'm eating a lot of veggies and healthy foods (I normally do, but less sweets than usual), drinking lots of water, less alcohol, enjoying life. The Vermont 100 will be a blast and I hope to get that feeling - you know, the one of absolute freedom when I'm out on my run.

100 Milers as a Sedative? Love It!

“I thought if you could run one hundred miles, you’d be in this Zen state. You’d be the fucking Buddha, bringing peace and a smile to the world. It didn’t work in my case – I’m the same old punk-ass as before, but there’s always that hope that it will turn you into the person you want to be, a better, more peaceful person."

~Jenn Shelton from the book Born to Run

Western States - The Final Mile of Geoff Roes (2010 Winner)

Just watching this gave me shivers!

Mermaid Parade Photos

As usual, the Mermaid Parade was a mixture of superfun, crowds, mermaids, sea creatures, and LOTS of glitter. Rachelle and I spent the day down at Coney Island, and I went to a fantastic warehouse party in the evening. It's times like these that I'm ecstatic I live in NYC.

Run at the Gunks

I was trying to rearrange all these photos and put captions but Blogger was being stupid. These are photos of a terrific trail run I had last Sunday. Ray and I drove up and met Jeff (who provided the maps and wonderful directions) and Crista (who ran with us the first 4 miles before she smartly backed off - the girl needs to take it easy right now!). I was so bummed that it was so misty and foggy (I kept telling Ray, "This is a spot with the most amazing view." And he was like, "Yeah yeah, I hear that again.") and it rained on  and off but we still got a solid 34 miles in. The trails were beautiful, muddy and even wet (notice a few photos of Jeff and I standing in the water). There's something so special about trail running - most of the times, it was just running and the trails, step, step, step, breathe, view, dirt, chipmunk, trail, gorgeousness. Ray and I discovered an early-blooming blueberry patch and snacked on them (yum!) and it was great to bond with a friend in a new way. Ray got to serve as my advice columnist, listening to love problems and he gave great advice. Of course! I always find the older (well, Ray's only 9 years older) ultrarunning men have great advice. Like Ray K. And random strangers. It's funny how if we were at a party, I doubt I ever would have told him all these things...but when you're ultrarunning, all the rules go out the door.

Standing in water

Why I Do What I Do, Who I Am

I've been stumbling, but feel like I'm happily in the right direction. Right now I'm looking forward to an 8 hour run in beautiful New Paltz, am tired from surfing and being buried in the sand. I could go to the CHERYL parties tonight and dance - but I think I'll head to bed. I could go to The Habitat and chat with my favourite bartenders and have some delicious drinks. I could call up Rachelle and take Polaroid kissing photos with her. I could write, I could dance, I could take my cat on a walk. But I'm headed to sleep.

Remembering who I am is so important. Sometimes, you forget. Like every time I travel, I remember, "Wait. Life is not about cube walls and deadlines for things don't matter and washing your floor until it shines and bitching at people in the laundromat. It's about self-discovery and helping people and learning and sharing." And that's why I love traveling.

Next up, I hope to do a jaunt around Central America at the end of the year. Sometimes I question why I do what I do - and wonder do I need to be doing something else? Is this not fulfilling? I mean, where's my condo and Disneyland vacations? That's not what I want, though. I want Burning Man and hot pink fake fur bikinis and being buried in sand on the beach and drinking too-strong delicious margaritas and closing my eyes but knowing I'm going after what I want.

Traveling in Berlin, I met an incredible Englishman who is always full of insight. Chris emailed me this recently after reading my blog, 

Oh, and I read a couple of your posts ruminating on the greener grass of your sister's picket fence life and the challenges of the fluid parade of your freer city life, the non profit salary et al...and I say that reading your blog, I'm reading about someone who is living a life unencumbered by the old nonsense of conventional expectation. You spend, it would seem, an inordinate proportion of your time doing something that you love dearly; composing the orchestra of your thoughts with eyes on that unwavering horizon, measured by the unimpeachable rhythm of your feet hitting the ground. I am handsomely paid for my prolonged days of misery, writing muscles atrophied, harnessed inextricably to the moribund conveyor belt of the life that pays for picket fences.

So it reaffirms my belief I'm doing the right thing. Chris, thanks, and remember, it's not too late. Come to the U.S., I'll take you to a baseball game and we'll dance until the skyline is blurred. Chase your dreams, whatever they are, always. 

Birthday Ultramarathon!

What better way to celebrate my birthday than to run 56miles? I guess technically I should have done the 50k (31 miles) to celebrate my 31st birthday, but why bother with a 50k when there's a much more fun 56miler!

 

I headed up to the Peaks Ultra race, which was advertised as 50, 54, 53 miles, but I was told by someone it's actually 56. Who cares? It was fun, however many miles. There were really steep hills and giant mudpits and bugs eating my scalp and more mud and some bushwacking and more shoe-sucking mud pits and 14,000 feet of elevation gain/loss and mud. The course is mostly runnable, with some sections requiring walking, and it was absolutely beautiful. And yes, it was fun.

I ran with Phil nearly the entire time. I picked his brain about his run across America in 2008, about Badwater, about his 38 100 milers, and some of the other insane ultras he's done. We talked about hill running (his tip: lean slightly forward, short, light steps on the front of my feet), about chafing, about getting lost in races. Phil struggled with his breathing a lot in the beginning. I felt great most of the race, but after mile 48, I started getting dizzy and getting a little delirious - just slightly. It was kind of fun, actually.

The mud wasn't as bad as it was in years past at Jay, but it was pretty gross. Our shoes got heavy and stupid me forgot my gaiters so I had to remove my shoes and socks to dump and scrape mud out a few times. When I changed my socks at mile 38 to clean, dry socks, I felt wonderful.

The organizer, Andy, was super friendly and the aid station volunteers were great. At one aid station, Iliana had told them it was my birthday, and I came in running to hearing them sing "Happy Birthday." It really was a lovely birthday. I didn't think about wrinkles or my future or getting old, but instead thought about, "Can't wait to get to the next aid station for some good food," or, "I'm almost out of water. Should I fill up in this creek and risk giardia?" (I didn't, but Phil did.) 

It was very humid and poured the first two hours. The weather cleared up the rest of the day, though the puddles and occasional rumbling of thunder reminded us of what else was out there.

There were a lot of switchback sections, including "The Labyrinth" which was almost completely dark - full of trees and crazy switchbacks.

After we finished, showered, and ate, we sat under the stars by the campfire, waiting for the final runner. Everyone sang "Happy Birthday" to me again and Iliana and Phil got me a pink cake. Yay!

The final runner had a weak headlamp and got extremely lost. He decided to go to sleep on the trail, and after a very thorough search, he was eventually found, around 2am. Finally, relief.

Today - little pain. My shins ache a tad, and the blister under a callous on my pink toe hurts - but I'm fine. I can't wait to do it again! 

Miguel Hernandez Poem

Vientos del pueblo me llevan

Vientos del pueblo me arrastran 

Me esparcen mi corazon

Y me aventan la garganta 

People's breaths, like wind, sweep me along

They scatter my heart, 

They fill my throat with voices

--Miguel Hernandez

I don't need distractions to do what I love

I don't need distractions to do what I love. On my commute, I distract myself from the unpleasant tedium by reading. When I'm washing dishes, I blast KRS-ONE or listen to NPR. When I run, I don't want to distract myself from what I love. Even in 100 mile ultramarathons, I still enjoy being fully aware.

I don't listen to music.

I like to be in the present moment. I loved this perspective from Tony Krupicka,

I’m really comfortable being in my own head space. I don’t know. It’s funny, because I worked as a lifeguard for five years during part of high school and college and it’s the same sort of thing. You are sitting on a chair for literally eight hours at a time, where you get a little five-minute break every now and then. You are just up there with your thoughts. It’s the same thing with running. I think a lot of people have to have music on or watch TV or be on the computer. They have to be stimulated somehow by a screen or audio and it’s really nice. When I’m injured I really miss having that time each day, where I can let everything clear out and be able to think for a while. I’m trying to think about what I was thinking about today. For a lot of the time you are thinking about nothing. You are just cruising down the trail. You are really in the moment. That sounds so Zen and cliché and New Age, but that is kind of the point: it’s a form of meditation. But there are other times that I think about races and how I want the race to go. You know, basic visualization. That happens a lot, actually. But it’s not like something I do consciously. I definitely have those times where I can write a blog post in my head, but be so frustrated when I get home. Things were flowing so well and then you get home and you can’t even remember how you were starting it. But I never get bored—put it that way.

Next Race (a.k.a. because 50 miles isn't enough for me)

Because I think an ultramarathon will make my birthday a blast! (And yes, I'm packing homemade chocolate chip walnut cookies in the drop bags!)