Ich Laufe

2009-12-16T11:29:00.042-07:00

AT LONG LAST: A BIG HORN WILD & SCENIC TRAIL RUN 50K RACE REPORT
JUNE 20, 2009

Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible. –Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

My first ultramarathon was everything I thought it WOULD be, but better, and none of the horrible things I thought it COULD be. I have struggled much over the last months with how to write this story - the race was so good, and seemingly so uneventful. What is there to tell? But really, there is much more to this race than the third of a day I actually spent running. This race report really starts back in September of 2006, three months after I gave birth to Little M.

I was taking a requisite non-fiction writing class at BSU. Writing about my feelings or my bad childhood like everyone else either bored me or didn’t apply to me. I was fat and out of shape and I didn’t like it. A coming to Jesus meeting was forthcoming. Now that I was done having kids, what was I going to do with the rest of my life? This six-year phase of childbirth and nursing was about to come to an end, and then what?

I used my writing projects to help me sort out these questions, turning to what I knew and had sometimes loved, writing these words to start out one of my essays:

I’m a runner. At least that’s how I perceive myself in athletic terms. Since my sophomore year in high school, I have nurtured a love-hate relationship with running. When I’m running, I hate it. When I’m not, I love it. Lately, I have become obsessed with this conundrum. I truly aspire to be a runner, not just someone who thinks about it a lot.

Having two babies in the last five years has been a detour to my running success. I’m a slug, yet I still have the desire to be a serious runner, and I am slowly getting back into it. But to some extent, running is my fantasy – I do a lot of running in my dreams. Still, I had to begin somewhere. In order not to shock my system with too much exercise right off the bat, I started with the mild step of reading about running. In doing so, I discovered ultramarathoning.

And that’s how it started. With Dean Karnazes’ Ultramarathon Man and Pam Reed’s The Extra Mile. The reality was the elephant in the room, though. You wanna’ be a runner, lady? THEN YOU HAVE TO RUN! And so my ultra journey began.

Map of Big Horn Wild and Scenic Trail Run 50k (~31-32 miles):

The race start, complete with flag and the National Anthem:

See you in 30 miles!

The race started right out with a crazy climb that lasted about a mile to the ridgeline. As you can see, I started right in the back, just ahead of the people who started out walking. Most of us were soon hiking.

Somewhere around mile five or six before dropping down into the Kearns Cow Camp aid station in the valley. Thanks to Laurel of New Hampshire for taking this picture of me and for pacing with me those first six or seven miles.

On top of the world.

Loved this gnarly trail section at mile 7 or so dropping down into the first aid station.

Mile 9, Kearns Cow Camp AS: Looking back at the aid station, famous for its bacon on the grill, as I was leaving with a handful of potato chips and best wishes on the six mile climb back out of the canyon up to the start of the race.

At the tail-end of the six-mile climb back up into the start area after the first 14-mile loop.

Mile 14, Head of Dry Fork: As I came into the main aid station after completing the first 14-mile loop three and a half hours later, I asked my dad and John for the extra socks out of my drop bag. They both looked at each other. Do you have her bag? No, didn't you get it? Turns out, they had been back up to the van, but they had both forgotten to grab my drop bag - they HAD gotten themselves snacks and changes of shoes and socks, however. Hahaha. Good thing I wasn't really desperate for anything in there. I had some bandaids in my Camelbak which I put on my big toes in what turned out to be a futile attempt to prevent blisters under my callouses, refilled my Camelbak with water, took a potty break, grabbed some snacks, and I was back on my way, into the wild unknown of the next ~18 miles.

Along the run, I talked to a number of people who said this was their first ultra. I also talked to a few people who were more experienced - as I left the Dry Creek AS, I took a break from running up the hill out of the station to walk with a couple of "seasoned" ultra-men. After learning where I was from, they suggested that I come up to their neck of the woods to run Le Grizz 50, near Kalispell, MT. About the easiest 50 you'll ever find, they promised. Hmmmm, seriously considering it. :-) Turns out, my dad DID do this one, running a very impressive 10:22 in 0 degree temperatures on October 11, 2009. It’s on my list for next year…

Here is the road leading UP out of the 14 mile Dry Creek aid station.

I think this was about 18-20 miles or so, just before the big descent into the Tongue River river bottom. A nice man offered to take this picture of me. You could not have asked for a nicer day. The skies were clear and the temperatures were moderate (a little hot at the end down in the canyon). One of the most spectacular days imaginable in a race where one of the hallmarks are the scenic vistas.

Not too long after that picture was taken, coming down from Upper Sheep Creek (Mile 19) to Lower Sheep Creek (Mile 24), I gave up all hope of completing under my pre-race goal eight hours. I gave that time up as completely unrealistic and unattainable. My pace slowed to a stutter. I was doing 20-25 minute miles going DOWN! On a descent of at least 15% grade, it was all I could do to keep my legs moving one in front of the other. There weren't too many people around me through this section. Well, I should say that I did see a number of other people, but my encounters were brief as they careened past me like I was standing still. I was actually catching up to one other person, an older man who was in about the same boat as I was. At the point where he was about 20 feet below me, his legs failed him and he took a nasty, dust-boiling fall. I got to him as fast as I could, which took about an eternity considering how my legs were failing me also, and he had managed to stand up by the time I reached him. Luckily he was fine, and I kept going ahead of him, slightly comforted by the fact that I wasn't the worst off of all people on this blasted mountain.

Mile 24, Lower Sheep Creek AS: I was never so happy to come in contact with other human beings as I was at the moment in time when I spotted pieces of color through the trees and heard cowbells and cheering voices as I neared the Lower Sheep Creek aid station. When I actually ran into the station and realized the cheering was for me, I nearly had a breakdown. I was so relieved that I had made it down those miles of descent, I was on the verge of tears. But I willed myself to pull it together. People who run aid stations at ultras are literally like angels. They are selfless, happy to see you, incredibly helpful, supportive, encouraging, and they tell you that you can keep going even when you doubt the veracity of their words. I handed my Camelbak to a guy right when I walked in and went to peruse the food they had laid out on a tarp. I decided that I could live without food at the moment – nothing really sounded good – and I had a GU packet that I decided to down instead. The lovely people there advised me to soak my bandanna in the river crossing just beyond the aid station, because I was at nearly the lowest point in the course now, and it would be hot heading into the canyon just above the river. There weren’t any spots to actually access the river except for that point right there at the aid station. Even though I had been using my bandanna as a hankie for most of the race, I heeded their advice, knowing they knew a lot more than I did. I washed out the bandanna in the river and tied it around my neck. Ahhhh, heaven!

This was the view coming down into the river bottom.

Leaving the Lower Sheep Creek aid station, I realized that I felt completely rejuvenated. After the terrible lows I had felt the previous five miles, I now felt 100 percent better. I had cold water on the bandana around my neck, I had been cheered into the aid station like I was the only runner on the course, I had been informed that there were only about 7.5 miles left in the race – what! in my addled brain, I thought there were, like, at least twice that! – and that horrible downhill section was over. I could do this!

Mile 26, Tongue River AS: I wandered into the food tent looking bewildered. The girl behind the table asked me what sounded good. I don't even know, I replied. Watermelon, she said. Watermelon with salt. That's what they are eating right now. Apparently I looked like a “they” because she salted up two slices of juicy watermelon and handed me one for each hand, sending me on my way. I was dubious, but figured she knew more than I at that point, so I headed out, slurping down the salty melon.

Rolling out of the Tongue River aid station at 6:55 (or so) on the race clock, with approximately five miles to go, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I DID have a chance to come in under eight hours. For me to do it, though, I definitely could NOT just walk it in. I'd have to give those five miles everything I had. At this point averaging a 12 min/mile pace felt like a 7 min/mile pace on fresh legs. I told myself I had to run five miles in an hour. That's it - just one more hour. I truly didn't know if I would make it, but I had tentative hope. At least it was plausible.

The salty watermelon wasn't half bad. Eating something juicy and cold was pure heaven at that point. I knew I had a tough five miles left to go, and I still needed a lot of fuel, fluids, and salt to keep me going. Up until this point, the course had traveled mainly on forest service roads, ATV roads, and single track trail. Now we were getting close to Dayton, and this was where we met up with civilization. The last five miles was essentially a hot, dusty, straight shot to the finish, and we had to contend with cars to boot.

The next three miles were all about patience. And putting one foot in front of the other. And getting passed by guys who started two hours earlier than I did and literally sprinted past me on their way to finishing 50 MILES, not kilometers.

Mile 29, Homestretch AS: This aid station was like an oasis in the desert. The kind people asked if I wanted an Otter Pop, and I practically said “DUH!” It tasted really good at first, when it was all frozen, but as it thawed, it started getting really sugary and warm and didn’t taste good whatsoever. But it really hit the spot for a few minutes. From my obsessive pre-race map studying, I wanted to think that the Homestretch aid station was only about two or three miles from the finish, but I would not believe it until I heard it. For the second time that day, I was surprised and relieved to learn that I had fewer miles to go than I had anticipated. They said there were only 1.8 miles to the finish! Aaaaagh. I could “smell the barn,” as the ultrarunners say.

However, the road just kept going and going. It was seemingly interminable, just folding out in front of me like a never-ending dusty treadmill. I willed myself to keep running at a good clip, allowing for walk breaks through shady spots, and whenever I’d run enough that I felt a walk was warranted. The last five miles of the race basically looked like this:

Shortly past that last aid station, I caught up with a guy who was walking, looking like he was in no hurry to finish. His running was done. As I passed I said, Come on! Let’s go… He was like, You want me to run? I said YES, we’re too close to the finish to slow down now! Come on!

I was grasping at straws. I felt that if I motivated this guy, I would not be so focused on my own pain. He reluctantly started running. We talked a bit – I found out he was from Alberta, CA, and that this was his first 50k too. I pushed the pace, glad that I was not doing this all by myself anymore. Finally, he said he was done. He needed to walk. With about a half-mile to go, I left him behind and kicked it in, running solo to the finish, blowing past this walker who had toasted me on that killer downhill section between miles 21-26.

As I rounded the corner into the park entrance, I was greeted by John taking my picture. He snapped a few of me, and then turned to run to the finish. “RUN” I hollered at the top of my lungs. I could have beat him too, if I could have taken the same shortcut he did. :-) John said he knew I was feeling good because I had enough energy to yell at him and joke even as I was still finishing.

He was right. I had an awesome race. My execution of my first trail ultra left nothing to be desired. I had set the perfect goal – challenging enough so that I would have to push to achieve it, but not one that was so challenging I would never have a chance at it, leaving myself without any goal and mentally defeated when the unrealistic time came and went.

You don't know what your body is capable of until you test it, said Nikki Kimball on her rocky 5th-place finish at the Western States 100 this year. (It was the first 100-miler she entered that she did not win.) And after 7 hours, 55 minutes, and 24 seconds of hiking and running, covering some of the most beautiful country on this planet, I knew what I was capable of on that day.

I remember finishing through a giant cloud of greasy smoke from the hamburger BBQ right by the finishing chute, which you can’t really see in these pictures, but it was there, and it made me want to hurl. But nothing could dampen the sense of satisfaction I felt at that time. To this day, I have no regrets about this race. There’s only one first, and what an unforgettable first it was.

As you can see from this picture, I was finding it hard to stand.

But I forced myself to not collapse on the ground and lay there comatose for the rest of the day as I felt inclined. Instead, I made my way over to the riverbank a few feet from the finish to soak my toasted feet.

That was like heaven on earth right there, and it revived me a little bit.

At one point a while after the race, I was talking to a couple of people, and I'm sure they were nice people and very interesting, but I had to excuse myself because the world was getting dark and warm and narrow, and I couldn't stand up straight for fear of passing out right then and there. Doubled over, I staggered over to one picnic spot and laid down flat in the cool grass while the spinning stopped and the blood flow returned to my head. It was probably 45 minutes to an hour after the race before I could eat anything, and then only in small increments. But I knew I needed to keep the fuel and liquid coming in. I forced myself to get through some of the pasta salad and hamburger from the post-race picnic.

I had no regrets about the race in general, but I do actually have one little regret - that I was so self-consumed after the race with all my nausea and lightheadedness, I did not remember to go over and watch for and cheer for Laurel from New Hampshire as she finished. I noticed later that she finished in around 9:18, a great time, considering she had only run one marathon, back in 2005, and this was her first 50k also, at age 52. Good job Laurel. I’m sorry I didn’t come and run you in like I had wanted to!

To quote a line from a writer in Ultrarunner magazine: Fast and short is for the birds. I'm hooked on ultras or at least wild and scenic trails. Amen, sista’. For me, once you go trails, you never go back. My first ultra was everything I could have asked for or expected, but 100 times better. The people were nicer, the views grander, my mentality stronger, my time faster, the downhills more painful… Here’s a list of stuff I perceived as remarkable from the race:
• I never once fell, even though I did witness other people fall.
• I ran strong to the finish.
• The stunning views from the top of the world.
• Running 30+ miles through some of the most beautiful of God's creation.
• The blisters under the calluses on my toes.
• Amazingly friendly, helpful, encouraging, decisive, and efficient aid station volunteers.
• The ultrarunning community. Ultrarunning is a sport where the slow-packers can mingle with and absorb vibe and wisdom from the fast dudes, super-experienced runners, and even the elites.
• I got passed by some speedy 50-milers in the last five miles (the 50-milers had started two hours and 18 miles ahead of the 50k-ers), and probably before that, but those last five miles is where it became painfully evident.

From being involved in the ultra community through the Ultra List email group for almost three years, I have heard from many runners that ultrarunning is unique and special because of the people. So it was not surprising to find out at Big Horn that this was so true.

One of the highlights of the entire race was meeting the Heaphys, a beautiful couple from NW Montana who were down to use the Big Horn 50k and 50M as a training run for the Hardrock 100, possibly the toughest 100 miler out there - run July 11 -12, 2009. The Heaphys are ultrarunners extraordinaire, having finished the Hardrock 100 ~10 times each, and of course a zillion other impressive ultras. Margaret was running the 50k race on a bum knee as an easy training run to test out how her knee would hold up for Hardrock, and I led her for about half the race, but once we got to the five mile descent from the top of the mountains down into the river bottom, she schooled me on the downhill running. Man. I have a lot to learn. Margaret finished a couple of minutes ahead of me, so I think I was running a little stronger on the flat section at the end, but it was on the downhill where she just blew me out of the water. Here I am at the end of the run with Margaret, a true class act.

From an email by Mark Heaphy to my dad post-Hardrock: Well, Margaret and I both finished Hardrock again. It was Margaret's 9th and my 11th. Margaret's goal has always been ten...so if she does it next year we may not do the run anymore....we'll see. Margaret had probably the most suspenseful run of the entire field. She finished with about two minutes to spare. We ran the first twenty or so miles together and then we split up. She was very sick and vomiting. She barely made the cut-offs but toughed it out (it has always been like this for her). In order to finish under the 48 hour cut-off she had to run the last leg in the dark in a time that most of the top finishers do...and she did. Everyone was amazed. She did great and was so excited to just finish.

My essay in September of 2006 ended this way:

The ultramarathon culture is fascinating. My research has given me graphic insight into the elements necessary to train for and run ultramarathons. Here I sit, in front of the television, thinking that I want to be, that I should be out running. So why, when I can hardly muster the gusto to shuffle three miles, do I dream about running 30-plus miles? The short answer: I don’t know. Here’s what I do know: I have to start somewhere.

I start slowly. I escape the house without my kids and run three miles, winning a small victory when I can do it without walking. And it’s a treat to run alone. The extra exertion required to push a jogging stroller is amazing. Recently, I ran a 5k (3.1 mile) “race” in Boise with my son and daughter. From this experience, I determined that pushing 60 pounds of stroller and kid three miles is a really good workout, and I have a long way to go before I will be able to run 10 miles, let alone an ultramarathon.

For me, though, running an ultramarathon isn’t the goal. My mind conjures much less grandiose requirements for my body and my time. Run today, just today. Don’t think about tomorrow. Don’t even think about the next mile. Put one foot in front of the other and simply run.

So, in January of 2007, six-months postpartum, I started running. I completed a marathon in October 2008 on my 30th birthday and the Big Horn 50k two and a half years later in June of 2009. However, my ultra-journey doesn't end here. It's only just beginning. I knew even as I struggled to the finish that I would enter another of these, and then another. Which one would it be? I was planning even before I finished. The conclusion of that race was merely a door opening to a huge new world of personal challenge and adventure. It wasn't really a finish line. It was a portal. It was just the beginning.

FOOTNOTE
What’s next: I want to challenge any of you reading this to join me May 29, 2010 in Pocatello, Idaho for the Pocatello 50. I plan to make this my first 50-miler. The race also offers 2- or 3-person relay events that cover the same 50-mile course, with legs from 16-19 miles each. Signup starts January 1, 2010.

2009-06-16T15:43:00.005-06:00

BIG HORN TRAIL RUN 50K WEATHER FORECAST
It's getting close, and it looks like it's going to be a beautiful day, and by that I mean NO LIGHTNING.

2009-05-30T21:08:00.005-06:00

TITUS' TALES FROM THE TRACK

Date: Thursday, May 28, 2009, 7:00 pm
Location: Nampa Christian School track
Temperature: The high for May 28 was 91 degrees; although it had probably cooled a bit from that by 7:00 pm, it was still a hot one.
Scroll to the bottom of the post for the results.
Photos from the run

I would have to call this competition an indisputable success. The first Nampa running of the Titus Van Rijn One-Hour Distance Classic is in the books. What an epic night! It was one of the hottest days of the spring, and even at 7:00 pm, sweat was flowing. Luckily, it had cooled a few degrees from the 91 F it had been a few hours before the run.

The theme of this year’s TVR running was inspiration. Seven out of the nine runners have started running within the last year. Each person has fantastic running goals, and I am thrilled to witness the progress all of these people are making toward their fitness aspirations. I was blessed that they all came out to join me in a run, and I am planning more free events to get us all together and keep us inspired.

Notably, Juan just started running within the last week and ran at TVR the farthest he’s run since high school! He’s running to lose weight, but is looking to make running part of his plan to keep the weight off permanently, and his wife has started joining him too. Juan showed up to the track in old running shoes without socks; I didn’t hear if he got blisters or not, but at least he didn’t wear the tall striped tube socks he had been considering. Juan’s goals for this TRV Distance Classic: to not pass out, to not have a heart attack, and to get some running tips. Good plan, Juan. His longest run before the TVR was one mile, but after Thursday’s 3.5 miles, he said he felt great. Mark my words: at next year’s run, he’ll be charging full-speed around that track, thinking an hour’s too short!

Pastor Monty Sears and Ron Smith, although they insist they weren’t sandbagging, should have won TVR bragging rights by outsprinting me at the end, but it does seem that competitiveness was in remission for the evening. Their strategy to get through the hour was to do some light interval training in preparation for the 10k race they are gearing up for on June 20: 1.5 mile warm up at 10 min/mile pace, alternating 1 lap at 7 min/mile pace and 1 lap at 10 min/mile pace, and 1.5 mile cool down at 10 min/mile pace. Ron, just getting back into running since taking over a month off after a tough half-marathon in April, hopes to average a sub-8 min/mile pace for the Cherry Festival 10k, presumably hoping to beat Pastor Monty. Pastor Monty, although battling several injuries over the past few months, was looking strong and should give Ron a run for his money in the 10k.

In any event, the evening’s real contest seemed to lie in the minds of the runners. Each person waged a personal competition, whether it was to complete a certain number of laps like Pastor Konrad, or to move in relentless forward motion like Juan, or to endure the heat like Kelli.

Kelli Sears, who had been a racewalker but joined the running ranks this last January, remarked after the run that it had been harder than she anticipated, partially due to the heat, partially to her forgetting her iPod, and I suspect partially due to running in ovals for an hour; but she overcame and had an amazing run. My husband observed that he never once saw Kelli walking, a notable accomplishment due to the heat and length of the run. Kelli is also running her first 10k on June 20, competing in a hard-core throw down with her daughter over bragging rights and dinner bought by the loser.

Brandy Ashley, who started seriously running in January after sporadically running for 9 years, commenced on a killer strategy of mostly running with a little walking, amassing an impressive 5.7 miles. Her goal was 6 miles, but she was a little slowed by some walking, which was necessary to keep down the dinner eaten shortly before the race. But that girl can really walk! Brandy’s running goal is to complete a half-marathon the middle of July, and I know she is going to exceed her own expectations.

Brandy’s husband, Kevin Ashley, who does not claim to be a runner, but who has lost 25-30 pounds in the last 5 months using exercise bands, jogging, and walking, had a great time, helping his buddy Juan collect 16 and 14 laps, respectively. He’s already wondering when the next group event is going to be…

Davina Jackson called it an easy night, having run a tough 9-miler the day before, ending her run early at an even 4 miles. She started running a year ago April, finished her first half-marathon last October, ran a really tough half-marathon this April, and will finish her first marathon this coming October. She has also challenged a bunch of people to compete along with her in the Cherry Festival 10k on June 20. She’s nothing if not motivated.

Pastor Konrad Ziesing, having been on-call for a wedding, arrived approximately 15 minutes into the race, and thinking we got started on time, set his goal for 10 laps. However, when he was informed that we got started late, he pressed forward and blasted through an impressive 15 laps in about 45 minutes on the track. This is especially notable considering he has not officially succumbed to being a runner, and still claims to not enjoy running. Don’t worry – his appearance at the TVR is a not-so-subtle indication that he is coming around.

As for myself, I gave the run my best effort, even though my time was slowed somewhat by excessive stops for water at the “aid station” we had set up at the outside edge of the track. I eventually developed a strategy of running with a plastic cup in my hand for a lap, drinking little sips instead of gulping an entire cupful while wasting time at the table. Next year, I will definitely come into the race with a goal.

Most of us celebrated at the end with Henry Weinhard’s Black Cherry Cream Soda (and some Orange Cream for variety). Everyone is looking forward to future gatherings, and I especially look forward to when my dad can join the running circuit again. He crashed his bike two days after April’s half-marathon, an unfortunate event which postponed his plans to race in Boise’s Ironman 70.3 on June 13 and the Big Horn Trail Run 50 Mile on June 20. C’mon, Dad! You can do it!

For next year, I will have people document their pre-race goals and provide special incentive for those who achieve them. To all my newer runners: congratulations in participating in what was, for some of you, your first organized event, and keep up the awesome work. I can’t wait to see you progress in the coming year!

Special mention: Thanks to my husband John for bringing all the water and gear down to the track, for keeping an eye on the kids, and for serving as the official race photographer. Thanks also to Tanja, Ron Smith’s wife, for taking the pre-race portraits and serving as moral support, cheering everyone on and even running three laps with Kelli despite being in recovery from a respiratory ailment.

Here’s the breakdown (miles rounded up to the nearest tenth):

1. Emily Berriochoa, 10575 meters ~6.6 miles
2. Monty Sears, 10400 meters ~6.5 miles
3. Ron Smith, 10400 meters ~6.5 miles
4. Brandy Ashley, 9200 meters ~5.7 miles
5. Kelli Sears, 8400 meters ~5.2 miles
6. Kevin Ashley, 6400 meters ~4 miles
7. Davina Jackson, 6400 meters ~4 miles
8. Konrad Ziesing, 6000 meters ~3.7 miles
9. Juan Deloera, 5600 meters ~3.5 miles

2009-05-20T09:08:00.005-06:00

11th Annual Titus Van Rijn Invitational One-Hour Distance Classic - Nampa Edition
Thursday, May 28, 7:00pm, Nampa Christian School Track (Orchard and Davis)

I am planning this FREE running event to get people out to the track for some fun and maybe a little friendly competition. I hope that you and your friends will join me in seeing how far we can run (or walk, if that's your flavor) in an hour on the track. Bring your iPod if you want; we'll celebrate our victories with black cherry soda at the end, in TVR Classic tradition. If you plan to attend, please email me if possible (including your age for the official race report); but if you forget to RSVP, don't let that stop you from showing up.

What is the TVR? It's basically an international festival of local one-hour running events, now in its 11th year. See the specifics below, but the "rules" are really quite simple. Grab some friends and hit the track sometime in May, record how many laps you completed in 60 minutes, and send the results to the event director. It's kind of a throw back to the old postal events where you run and then mail in your results. You've always wondered how far you can go. Now you'll know.

Other race reports from 2008 and 2009:
TVR Sun Valley Edition, Run Junkie
Rogue Valley Runners
My Track Record, Greg Crowther

Official Rules:
11th ANNUAL TITUS VAN RIJN INVITATIONAL ONE-HOUR DISTANCE CLASSIC

WHAT: A one-hour footrace
WHERE: Your local track
WHEN: Anytime between May 1st-June 1 st, 2009 (date extended to June 1 because Haile
Gebrselassie is scheduled to try to break his own one-hour world record at a meet in Europe on June 1).

GUIDELINES
* Your performance must take place on a standard 400 meter/440 yard
track. Include partial laps in your final total; estimate distances
as accurately as possible within reason.

* Send results to by midnight, 1 June 2009.
In your results, please note name, total distance completed (in meters
or yards), age, date, and location. We encourage you to include a
brief report of your experience for the official race report.

* You may run the event more than once if desired, but only submit
your best mark.

* You are encouraged to invite others to participate in the event. In
many cases, our address list of past participants is incomplete, so we
especially appreciate your forwarding this invitation to past runners
not included in the original mailing.

* Complete results and race report will be sent to all participants.

TRADITION
World champions in football and baseball celebrate with champagne; the
victor at the Indy 500 gets a bottle of milk. At Titus Van Rijn, the
celebratory beverage of choice for all participants is black cherry
soda. We encourage you to maintain the tradition.

ONE-HOUR TRACK RECORDS
World, women: 18,517 meters (~11.5 miles)
Dire Tune (Eth), Ostrava, Czech Republic 6/12/08
http://youtube.com/watch?v=W6OZPV98Hxo
World, men: 21,285m (~13.2 miles)
Haile Gebrselassie (Eth), Ostrava, Czech Republic 6/27/07
http://youtube.com/watch?v=e5fgejdS4gQ

U.S., women: 17,273m (~10.7 miles)
Nancy Conz, Amherst, MA 6/25/81
U.S., men: 20,547m (~12.8 miles)
Bill Rodgers (GBTC), Boston, MA 8/9/77

TVR, women: 12,800m (~7.96 miles)
Kate Jennings (WA), Winthrop, WA 6/2/2007

TVR, men: 18,115 (~11.25 miles)
Greg Crowther (WA), Seattle, WA 5/27/2006

Since 1999, TVR competitors have amassed more than
2.3 million meters of distance and countless gallons of black cherry
soda. Join the fun!

2009-04-25T19:28:00.003-06:00

I anticipate that my next running blog will follow my first ultramarathon June 20, 2009. I will be running the Big Horn Wild & Scenic Trail Run 50k (@32 miles) along with my dad, who is slated to run the 50-mile event. I will be carrying a camera so I can record the tremendous scenery to some extent.

2007-06-02T18:40:00.001-06:00

In case anyone was wondering, which they probably weren't, I haven't stopped running. Blogging was taking too much time, and it was outliving its usefulness. I am running more and better than ever, and I don't need the motivation that posting my log online was giving me. Run on!

2007-02-28T18:37:00.002-07:00

WEEK 8: FEB 19 – FEB 25, 8.1 miles

2/25/07, Sun: NO RUN.
2/24/07, Sat: .5 miles, paper route.
2/23/07, Fri: 3.3 miles, 35:26. Little slower than yesterday, but I still felt great.
2/22/07, Thur: 3.3 miles, 33:55. Today, even as I ran through the fog, I felt as if I emerged from a very dark place into brilliant light. The last two nights, I went to bed at 10; I actually feel human today. Maybe I’ll eventually become a morning person. Two portly blue heeler dogs (I’ll call them that for lack of knowledge of what they actually are) ran out at me from the “reservation” trailer house. I spoke to them as if I loved wildly barking dogs who pretended to want to eat “runner” for lunch. Luckily, they stopped chasing me at the edge of their property.
2/21/07, Wed: NO RUN. I’m feeling a little better, adjusting to the early mornings, and getting well, but I’m still so tired and very sluggish. Luckily, I didn’t get really sick; just a brief stint. John joined me for the paper route this morning, and he delivered. What a sweetheart he is.
2/20/07, Tue: .5 miles, paper route. Today I am sick, have fever, feeling horrible.
2/19/07, Mon: .5 miles, paper route. Since starting the paper route last Tuesday, I have been feeling like I have entered a very dark underwater world where the light is very far away; the world is chaotic, disorganized, cluttered, and completely overwhelming.

2007-02-28T18:36:00.001-07:00

WEEK 7: FEB 12 – FEB 18, 7.5 miles

2/18/07, Sun: .5 miles, paper route. Margie was sick and puking today. As run-down as I have been feeling, I feel destined to get sick too.
2/17/07, Sat: 3 miles, 40 minutes. Ran on the treadmill.
2/16/07, Fri: .5 miles, paper route.
2/15/07, Thur: .5 miles, paper route. Today was my third day of the paper route. I drove and delivered today, and I thought it was a pretty good workout, getting the papers to people’s doors and all. Afterward, my glutes were surprisingly sore. I’m going to give myself .5 miles for each morning that I really work hard and run to get the papers delivered.
2/14/07, Wed: 3 miles, 40 minutes. I ran on the treadmill today. It was surprisingly boring (I had expected it to be boring, but that was BORING), but I am thankful that I will have a place to run when John is working 13 hour days and such. Since this was the first time that I used the treadmill, I was very distracted; I kept stopping to adjust the temperature, get water, get chapstick, open the curtains, etc. I did enjoy listening to music while I ran. The treadmill has a speaker jack into which you can plug in your iPod. Very cool.
2/13/07, Tue: If I would have known what a crazy day today was going to be, I definitely would have run yesterday. My paper route started this morning (4am) and the day didn’t stop until I crashed into bed at 11pm.
2/12/07, Mon: NO RUN. Took another day off to let my hips recover

2007-02-28T18:20:00.001-07:00

WEEK 6: FEB 5 – FEB 11, 13.9 miles

2/11/07, Sun: NO RUN.
2/10/07, Sat: 5.6 miles, 1:02:00. Today, I tried out a run/walk technique, which allowed me to feel better for the duration of the run, but the walking actually made my hip joints hurt. The pain would subside as soon as I started running. Hmmm.
2/9/07, Fri: 2.5 miles, 26:48. I wanted to run farther, but I had to get home so John could go to work. Today, Margie and I slept ‘til 10am, and when I got up, I was definitely leaded – literally, not in a caffeinated way. So running today was all about “getting the lead out.” As usual, I donned gloves, long and short sleeved shirts, and hat, along with fleece pants. Talk about overkill. It was sunny in the 40s, and I was roasting. I had to shed the long-sleeved shirt, hat, and gloves; I had not taken a rubber band for my hair, so my hair was swinging about like a wild animal skin attached to the back of my head. Annoying. About ½ mile into the run when I took off my hat, I made it my mission to find a rubber band for my hair. I decided that the most likely place to find a rubber band, and to avoid slowly running while scouring the ground, was on a newspaper in someone’s driveway. I ran quite a while before locating a sodden newspaper in the wet gutter by the street. Every other newspaper that I spotted was either in a driveway with cars parked in it, or was at a house that had people looking out the windows, or someone was driving by at the time I was passing the paper. What can I say…I’m a chicken and will do pretty much anything to avoid confrontation. So I waited until I found a “safe” newspaper in the gutter from which to yank the rubber band for my wild beast hair. At the end of the run, I felt less leaded, and I was able to get through the rest of the day with some modicum of aplomb.
2/8/07, Thur: 2.5 miles, 25:09. Just went out for a quick run this morning. I really tried to let loose, but my body had other ideas – I felt a little sluggish. Today was the first day in a long time that the weather wasn’t sunny and cold. It rained last night, so everything was wet, although it wasn’t actually raining while I was running. I relished the smell of damp earth and wetness in the air
2/7/07, Wed: NO RUN.
2/6/07, Tue: 3.3 miles, 33 minutes. I really need to get a new running watch. The time approximations are driving me crazy. I worked hard today to overcome the “Emily Shuffle” and I think I succeeded. Just pump the arms a little harder, lift the knees a little higher, I kept telling myself. Two weeks ago, I ran this same run in 38 minutes, so this was a definite improvement in speed. I decided that if I’m going to PR at Robie this year, I had better kick up my pace a notch. It’s no longer good enough to just plod along at the Emily shuffle for two miles and call it a good workout. My toe hurt a little bit today, and I’m not quite sure why. I do know that I have been having nerve pain emanating from the base of my toe where the numbing shot was, and it seems to affect the tip of my toe as well. I see the doctor for followup on the 13th, so I’ll mention it to him then. Also, something else that I need to work on, in addition to my speed, is my DIET. For the last week, I have been eating pizza, chips, cookies, and ice cream. Yuck. If I would just tune up my diet, I think my body would tone up dramatically. I have already lost a few pounds, but I would like to tighten up a little and lose a few inches off the “saddlebags.”
2/5/07, Mon: NO RUN.

2007-02-06T11:18:00.001-07:00

WEEK 5: JAN 29 – FEB 4, 12.1 miles

2/4/07, Sun: 2.5 miles, 27 minutes. Although my cardio conditioning suffered slightly for not having run in three days, I felt great otherwise. For the first time in a very long time, I had NO toe pain. So I’m glad I had the procedure done, even though it was totally gross. I actually could have run the last two days, but I had so much going on in my life that there was no time to run. I’m just glad I got three runs in this week. That’s one of my running rules – three is the bare minimum times that I can run per week, and I try very hard to run four or five times.

2/3/07, Sat: NO RUN.

2/2/07, Fri: NO RUN. My toe was a little sore still today, but it really doesn’t hurt much at all. Most of my pain is imaginary – I’m just so grossed out by the sight of it and the knowledge that nail bed is exposed. In addition, I’ve been protecting and favoring this toe for over six months. Old habits die hard.

2/1/07, Thur: NO RUN. Today, I had my toe operated on to remove the ingrown toenail. It was just as bad as I thought it would be. The numbing shot was horrific, nearly making me pass out. I really wanted to watch the procedure, sort of like a final goodbye to the infection that had become routine to my life. But I started becoming hot and woozy at the numbing shots; everyone in the room emphatically urged me to not watch the actual procedure. I tried to look, but something internal compelled me to keep my eyes closed. Oh well. The doctor bandaged my toe so that it looked like a goofy giant light bulb. I am tentatively planning on Saturday to run again.

1/31/07, Wed: 4 miles, 38 minutes. I didn’t have a chance to run during the day today, so after putting the kids to bed, I drove down to the Y to run around the indoor track. Tomorrow I have my ingrown toenail procedure, so I wanted to make sure that I got a run in today because I don’t know how long I am going to be out of commission. Each mile consists of 12 laps around that dinky little track. Talk about monotonous; but at least it wasn’t as boring as running on a treadmill. In addition to the monotony, I kept tripping over the cant on the corners of the track. John would call it a floor ninja, but whatever is was, I kept tripping over it. We have determined that clumsiness runs in the family; dad’s excuse his size 14 feet. My feet aren’t boats; I don’t have a good excuse. I also found it very difficult to keep track of the laps. Forty-eight laps is a lot of counting for someone who has an approximately ten second short-term memory.

1/30/07, Tue: NO RUN. I actually could have run today, but today, studying for tomorrow’s math test absolutely had to come first. I had one window of opportunity to do something for myself, and studying had to be done. I have realized that running sometimes has become an excuse to not do homework.

1/29/07, Mon: 5.5 miles, 60 minutes. With great trepidation and nausea, I called a podiatrist to schedule an appointment to get my ingrown toenail fixed. It just keeps lingering; I mean, I’ve had the thing for over six months. Sounds deranged, but I’ve almost grown fond of it. Anyway, the toe was particularly puffy and painful today, even after recent concentrated efforts at soaking and cleaning it, so I am going to throw in the towel. Sigh. In other news, today was the longest run I have completed so far this year, and I am happy to have run the entire distance comfortably.

2007-02-01T01:20:00.001-07:00

WEEK 4: JAN 22 – JAN 28, 13.9 miles

1/28/07, Sun: NO RUN.

1/27/07, Sat: 4.1 miles, 45 minutes. I have wanted to take my camera running for a while now, and today seemed like a good day to do it. Marge has shared with everyone fascinating and beautiful photos from Korea, so I thought I’d return the favor by sharing, um, BROWN pictures from the Caldwell, Idaho countryside from a runner’s perspective. Every time I run, I see lots of this:

a lot of this:

even more of this:

and a zillion of these:
.
It’s a friendly place. Yep. Actually, I thought this horse looked rather friendly as he peered over the rail at me.

Running through town brings another whole fascinating set of visions.

An interesting looking house,

the obligatory small-town water tower,
and friendly graffiti, of course.

John says these pictures make it seem as if I’m running on a Native American reservation. Here are some other fascinating sights I encountered out on the road:

A morose cow (I’d be morose too, if I had to live there).

Classic country mailbox art.

Fast-declining farmland.

1/26/07, Fri: 3.3 miles, 38 minutes. I was amused today by the smiling ram who peered at me through the window of a cinder block shed. When I went back Saturday to take pictures, I was disappointed that the ram had been moved.

1/25/07, Thur: NO RUN. I allowed myself a lazy day today. The pear-shaped runner:

1/24/07, Wed: 2.5 miles, 27 minutes.

1/23/07, Tue: NO RUN.

1/22/07, Mon: 4 miles, 41 minutes. What a gorgeous day! At 38 degrees, the air felt so warm that I had to shed my gloves and scarf and roll up my sleeves. The windiness of previous days has subsided – there was a very slight, almost spring-like breeze today. Spectacular running weather. Having learned a couple days ago that the Doberman’s name is Sadie, I called the dog by name today, thinking that she would be impressed enough at me knowing her name to stop barking. She wasn’t.

Baby Margie has been sick for the last couple days, so she has been sleeping less than usual. This means, of course, that I have also been sleeping less than usual. Margie, since about the age of six weeks old, has completely spoiled me by sleeping 10 to 12 hours a night. There’s no way that I get that much sleep, but if I can get seven hours, I feel pretty good. However, last night’s four and a half hours of sleep left me with a truckload of gravel in my eyes and a crabby attitude. Running helped immensely, and I was able to come back to the house and be moderately productive.

2007-01-22T18:57:00.001-07:00

WEEK 3: JAN 15 – JAN 21, 9 miles

1/21/07, Sun: NO RUN. John worked a day shift today. By the time he got home, of course, it was dark, and I won’t run my usual routes in the dark. (With Margie not sleeping well last night, I didn’t have it in me to get up early and run before he left.) I begged John to let me just run around our block a bunch of times, but he put his foot down on that too. “You know what kind of people live in this subdivision!”

1/20/07, Sat: 2.5 miles, @25 minutes. After running in temperatures in the 20s and below recently, today’s early evening run at 35 degrees felt downright balmy; I was definitely overdressed in my fleece scarf and thermal shirt. Although I felt tired, as usual, I tried to push my pace, and although most “real” runners would scoff at 10 minute miles, I am quite happy with them. So I can’t complain about a sluggish pace – my contention today was with my nemesis, the pesky ingrown toenail. (I apologize for the picture – it’s mainly for Big Marge’s benefit.) My left big toenail became ingrown about a month after Baby Margie was born, so as Margie turns seven months old, my festering infection turns about six months old. Charming. And I beg anyone out there who wants to warn me about the dangers of infection or to implore me to go to the doctor to NOT.

1/19/07, Fri: 3.5 miles, 37 minutes. I started this run today with absolutely NO desire to run. But since running comes above “sitting on the couch like a lazy slug” on my life’s priority list, I had to run (in addition to the fact that I hadn’t run for the previous two days – that’s another rule: to never go more than two days in a row without running). So I donned my shoes, hat, gloves, scarf, sunglasses, cell phone, and pedometer – I would have strapped on my watch too if that six degree day hadn’t killed it – and headed out into the beautifully sunny, frigid morning at my patented “Emily Shuffle” pace, which I estimate to be about 11 minutes per mile. Today, I ran my normal route in reverse. This change was invigorating, and made me feel like I was running a completely different route. I need to do that more often. I am getting so bored with my usual route. This run would have been slightly faster had I not taken a phone call as I was finishing the run – I hate talking on the phone, so sometimes it’s just easier to take care of a phone call right then, rather than bothering with calling the person back. The poor woman probably was wondering why my breathing was labored and my speech was slurred (my lips were partially frozen). It was about 22 degrees this morning, which didn’t feel too bad, except for the stinking wind. I started this run with the intention of running 2.5 miles, just to say I ran, but by the time I got to the point where I had to turn and head home, my body was in a trance-like gait, and I pretty much unintentionally “shuffled” through another mile or so. So even though I totally didn’t want to run, I was, of course, glad that I had done so.

1/18/07, Thur: NO RUN. John’s schedule didn’t allow me to run today unfortunately, and “life” got in the way of running. I had lunch with some friends from church, an event that comes above running on the priority list.

1/17/07, Wed: NO RUN. We slept in late this morning (until 10) and then I had to go feed the llamas. This was my last morning to do that. By the time I got back, John was leaving for work, and I didn't have a chance to run. However, I did wear Margie around in the backpack for an hour and a half while cleaning today. It wasn't a cardio workout, but it's definitely a leg-strength builder! I would challenge anyone to squat repeatedly to pickup toys off the floor and to walk up and down the stairs with 20 pounds of baby on their back.

1/16/07, Tue: 3 miles, 34 min. I set out to do 2.5 miles, but once I got into the run, my body just got in a nice rhythm and I kept going around to the three-mile loop. When I set out to run today, the temperature, with the wind-chill factored in, was six degrees. SIX. It was cold. By the end of the run, ice had built up on the inside of my ninja-scarf. It was so cold that my watch is dead now. It was working fine until I went to stop the time at the end of the run. I saw "34" and then the display just went caterwampus. Bummer. Drawbacks to running in the cold: my legs were as stiff as boards, so I was moving along at a brisk shuffle, even though I felt great. Also running into a headwind half the way definitely was a barrier to a speedy time as well as a barrier to any semblance of warmth. Even the half with the tailwind didn't help my overall pace (rigor-mortis-like leg muscles). Even though the drawbacks may be more obvious than the benefits, I did notice some benefits to running in the cold: even through the pink and green leopard scarf, I could faintly detect the smell of rotting apples at the “idyllic” house; the cold air has a distinct numbing effect that pretty effectively eliminates those nagging little aches and pains that would normally be there; and people I ran by, mostly utility and construction workers (no body else was stupid enough to be out in this weather without being paid for it) seemed to be extra-friendly, giving little nods, as if to commiserate. Cold aside, I had a different, and altogether more annoying, issue to contend with: WRINKLED SOCKS. In my haste to rush out the door for a run in that small moment of opportunity, I left on a pair of tube-like sport socks instead of putting on running socks. That was a mistake. I think Big Marge will appreciate my abhorrence of the wrinkled socks. That, paired with the consistent untied nature of my right shoe, made my right foot a very unhappy camper. Altogether, it was a great run – the sky was cloudless and sunny, my body felt good, and I am able to run.

1/15/07, Mon: NO RUN. Today, my morning before John went to work consisted of picking up dad's truck and driving to Meridian to pick up dad's moose rack at Yellow Transportation. That was a fun little adventure, but the rack was fully crated, so I didn't get to see it. I'll have to wait for dad to get back from Atlanta.

2007-01-22T17:33:00.002-07:00

WEEK 2: JAN 8 – JAN 14, 12.2 miles

1/14/07, Sun: 2.5 miles, @26 min. Went out Sunday afternoon, having just eaten a couple pieces of pizza; eating and running are two things that, as a mother, student, and wife, must be undertaken when the opportunities present themselves. That means sometimes I run immediately after eating, if that's when the opportunity to run presents itself (unless that "eat" happens to have been a five-plate Thanksgiving dinner). Because the temperatures have been unpleasantly chilly lately (highs in the 20s), I have taken to running with a fleece scarf wrapped around my neck, which I pull up over my mouth and nose, so I'm not directly sucking in the bitterly cold air. (God must have known that I would be running in frigid temperatures someday because He gifted me with an appropriately shaped nose for such scarf draping.) At the end of my run, as I headed into my subdivision, I passed a little kid walking on the sidewalk with his grandma. He, in a typically untactful little-kid manner, loudly remarked - several times, which I deemed excessive, considering the obvious cold temperature - that I looked like a ninja. “A ninja. Look, a ninja. There's a ninja!” I would have been a little huffy about this, except that I can totally see what the kid was talking about after I had John snap this picture of me after the run.

1/13/07, Sat: 3.2 miles, 33:23. It was 13 degrees and windy this morning when I went to feed the llamas around 10:00. Sheesh.

1/12/07, Fri: NO RUN. Life pre-empted running today. We had errands to do in the morning, I babysat Katie's girls in the afternoon, and I had a church function in the evening. On days that John works swing shifts, I have to run in the morning before he goes to work. If I don't get a run in early enough, or if I have something scheduled in the morning, I am doomed to have a “NO RUN” day. Running, however, doesn't come at the very top of my priority list. I determined that in my running ground rules. Running comes before things like "homework" or "clean the house" or "sit on the couch like a lazy slug." It, however, falls below things like "feed the kids" or "take care of husband" and any play date, lunch date, or church activity. I decided that for my running to be consistent, and for me to not constantly battle my guilty conscience about not running every single day, I had to set guidelines about where running would fall within my spectrum of priorities. Some days are just not conducive to running. And that's ok. But what's not ok is when I have a prime opportunity to run and I don't jump at the chance. When the couch wins out, that's bad.

1/11/07, Thur: NO RUN. I definitely have Dieter's cold; not happy about this. In addition to this inconvenience, Baby Margie was up the half the night last night vomiting the oatmeal I gave her for dinner. It was the first time I had given her oatmeal, and it will be the last for a very long time. We’ll just stick to sweet potatoes and applesauce for now.

1/10/07, Wed: 2.5 miles, 26:05. I still didn't feel like running, but I had to run today anyway, knowing that the next two days didn’t look good for the running schedule. I started running feeling like I weighed about 500 pounds. By the end of the run, I had “lost” about 300 pounds, a definite improvement. Running often has that effect of improving mood and physical well-being. I often wish I could run with an iPod, but I decided I would rather have an obnoxious version of “O Happy Day” cycling through my brain than be surprised by a charging dog or an attacker rustling in the bushes or the erratic teenage driver (of whom there seem to be an inordinate number) approaching behind me at a high rate of speed.

1/9/07, Tue: NO RUN. By the end of today, I was feeling like I was coming down with Dieter's stupid cold that he has had for several days. Because I was totally sore from my last two workouts (the four miler and the hill work), I decided to take a day off to rest. I DON'T WANT TO GET SICK. Doing everything I can to stay well.

1/8/07, Mon: 4 miles, 39:43. Today, I ran by the graffiti (WSL for West Side Locas, yes Locas) spray painted on the fence and the scary 'hood kids in a yard, one of whom repeatedly hollered "Justin" until finally yelling "Fire Away!” (upon hearing this, I bravely forged by them without making eye contact, like they were stray dogs or something). That's bad to be frightened of the 10-year-old kids in the neighborhood through which I am forced to run. I also ran by the parolee chalets; the "idyllic" house, defined by the tangy smell of rotting apples; and the "less-than-idyllic" shack, which, according to my imagination, could easily house a serial killer, looking abandoned except for the perpetual smoke rising from the chimney and the junkyard dog who often greets me. The junkyard dog wasn’t out today, but the Great Dane and the German Shepherd to his east greeted me in typical friendly fashion.

I had a little pain in my right kneecap, and I am sure this is a result of suddenly starting a running regime with no precursor. Also, drinking coffee before the run seemed to work well...no stomach cramps, which usually plague me if I am running with anything in my stomach. My body and lungs seemed to finally be in synch today. One did not tire before the other. They both felt strong the entire way (not to say that I wasn't tired at the end); and I was able to surge strongly the final 2/10 mile.

Although I felt lithe today, the shadow stretched in front of me reminded me that I am have a “classic pear shape.” But the pear-shaped runner was running nonetheless, right? As John Bingham of Runner’s World says, "Waddle on, friends."

Today was a great run except for my chapped lips. I get so angry when I forget to put on chapstick before running. Un-chapsticked lips are almost as bad as wet socks on the “things that totally aggravate my senses” list. The chapped lips are a telltale sign that I NEED TO DRINK MORE WATER.

2007-01-22T16:57:00.001-07:00

PERSONAL RUMINATIONS ON RUNNING

The following is an excerpt from a paper on ultrarunning that I wrote for an English class last semester, Fall 2007 (I merely extracted paragraphs from throughout the paper, so if it doesn’t seem very coherent, that’s why; I wanted to include it in the blog because it gives some background on the mentality with which I now approach running):

I’m a runner. At least that’s how I perceive myself in athletic terms. Since my sophomore year in high school, I have nurtured a love-hate relationship with running. When I’m running, I hate it. When I’m not, I love it. Lately, I have become obsessed with this conundrum. I truly aspire to be a runner, not just someone who thinks about it a lot.

Having two babies in the last five years has been a roadblock to my running success. I’m a slug, yet I still have the desire to be a serious runner, and I am slowly getting back into it. But to some extent, running is my fantasy – I do a lot of running in my dreams. Still, I had to begin somewhere. In order to not shock my system with too much exercise right off the bat, I started with the mild step of reading about running. In doing so, I discovered ultramarathoning.

In his autobiography, Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner, Dean Karnazes relates the story of how he ran a 199-mile relay race from Calistoga, California to Santa Cruz, California as a team of one. “…A bout of despair set in. Suddenly, nothing seemed to be going right… The sun was now sinking below the distant horizon, and I was running into a gathering gloom. I was alone… The pain wasn’t just confined to my legs any longer but had spread throughout my entire body. I plodded along in grief, barely able to lift my head. Twenty-eight hours of running can do that to you” (234-5). I’ve read numerous statements from ultrarunners that would completely deter most people from contemplating participation in this extreme sport.

I, however, wasn’t deterred. I was compelled. I realized there is a whole sub-category of runners out there who are influenced by the power of the ultra. I wondered why anyone would willingly engage in such a painful activity. Why would someone run such long distances? What’s involved? Would I be capable of doing this? I didn’t know the answers to these questions, but I had to find out. Thus began my journey of personal discovery.

I can testify that runners’ strength comes from the mind rather than the body. Most of the time, I’m pretty weak-minded. Sitting on my couch, rear end comfortably ensconced in the broken-in cushion, I find myself completely engrossed in Blake Wood’s fascinating account of his experience at the 2000 Barkley Marathons. Wow, this is some good reading. Here’s a guy who came 12 miles from completing a 100-mile race, only to be stymied by a river flooded by torrential rain. Instead of feeling defeated, Blake Wood feels victorious. I’m extremely inspired by his story.

If the mind controls the body and compels it to action, why does my mind fail to lace up my running shoes and propel me out the door so I can pursue the same victorious feeling? Am I mentally tough enough to run an ultra? How does one’s mind adapt and talk itself out of defeat? What is the thought process behind it.

I turn my attention to The Extra Mile, Pam Reed’s account of her running and life. This woman is the race director of the Tucson Marathon, an internationally successful professional ultrarunner, a two-time overall winner of the Badwater Ultramarathon, a mother of three, and a wife. Pam might tell me that my perception of running needs to change. Pam states that for her, running is a necessity. After all, she runs three times a day, 100 miles a week. But somehow, it just doesn’t seem simple to move running up my priority ladder. I get tired simply reading the prologue.

The allure of the ultra has captured Dwight Schuh because, in his own words, he might be “absolutely crazy.” Speaking of crazy… my life is nuts, but not because I am obsessed with training. Being a mother comes with special challenges, more than a childless person would think. Go for a run or read to my son? This is my current dilemma. The juggling of husband, kids, church, school, and social obligations leaves me little time to do anything for myself. Running is a luxury, in my mind.

I am torn between love of things I used to do freely, such as running, and the necessity to complete the tasks that make life go on. Maybe some mothers find it easy to dart out the door, smiling baby in tow, for a productive one-on-one with the blacktop. I do not. Making each of the baby’s waking (and often fussy) moments productive is much more difficult than it sounds.

The ultramarathon culture is fascinating. My research has given me graphic insight into the elements necessary to train for and run ultramarathons. Here I sit, in front of the television, thinking that I want to be, that I should be out running. So why, when I can hardly muster the gusto to shuffle three miles, do I dream about running 30-plus miles? The short answer: I don’t know. Here’s what I do know: I have to start somewhere.

I start slowly. I escape the house without my kids and run three miles, winning a small victory when I can do it without walking. And it’s a treat to run alone. The extra exertion required to push a jogging stroller is amazing. Recently, I ran a 5k (3.1 mile) “race” in Boise with my son and daughter. From this experience, I determined that pushing 60 pounds of stroller and kid three miles is a really good workout, and I have a long way to go before I will be able to run 10 miles, let alone an ultramarathon.

For me, though, running an ultramarathon isn’t the goal. My mind conjures much less grandiose requirements for my body and my time. Run today, just today. Don’t think about tomorrow. Don’t even think about the next mile. Put one foot in front of the other and simply run.

2007-01-22T16:49:00.001-07:00

WEEK 1: JAN 1 – JAN 7, 12.8 miles

1/7/07, Sun: Hill repeats @2 miles. Ran in the morning before church. Warmed up by running about .25 mile to the hill behind my house, then ran six repeats up and down the hill. Surged uphill at a strong pace then jogged down easy. Each repeat took about two minutes. Minimal breaks between repeats. Felt pretty good. Ran about .5 mile back home.

1/6/07, Sat: NO RUN. After running four days in a row following a very long period of no running, I felt ready for a day off.

1/5/07, Fri: 3.8 miles, 40:02. Felt a little fatigued today. Think I need a day off.

1/4/07, Thur: 2.5 miles, 25:51. Still feeling a little fatigued, but not too tired; finished strong. My first mile split was 11:00, so I picked up the pace nicely on the second 1.5 miles.

1/3/07, Wed: 2.5 miles, 28 min. Felt a little fatigued from yesterday, but I'm happy to be running consecutive days. It’s a start

1/2/07, Tue: 2 miles, 22 min. Just to be clear, I have not made running my New Year’s resolution. My desire to run has been building up all through the fall, and it’s simply time to start. More about that later… Simply, I know that for me to achieve ultimate satisfaction in races later in the year (maybe even a marathon) I have to run consistently, build mileage, and run NOW.