Seattle Marathon

After Boston last year, I made the tough decision to focus on running lots of marathons this year instead of running just one or two at maximum effort. As I expected, more frequent marathons meant my pace slowed considerably and I found myself firmly in the 4:20-4:30 finish times by mid-summer. I felt frustrated (even though I knew this would happen) so I turned to 50ks and adopted the more laid-back attitude of trail runners. I really enjoyed my new running world and found that even with slower times, I was making respectable placements in my age group. I approached Seattle (my first road marathon since July) with one goal: HAVE FUN. I also had two “it would be nice if it happened” goals: get my 2009 BQ and a PR. I really didn’t think the last two were much of a possibility since all of my training has consisted of a slow marathon or 50k every 2-4 weeks with lots of easy runs in between.
It turned out to be a great weekend in Seattle. One that I’m sure will become one of those “Boomer Legends”. I’ve attended enough Boomer gatherings to know it’s best not report on them, and everyone else has given their version anyway, so I’ll skip directly to my marathon report….

Race morning was cool and clear. I wore a black Brooks long sleeve tech top, yellow Maniac singlet, black skirt, Brooks Adrenaline 6’s in copper and blue Smartwool socks (I decided to wear the dorky ankle-length version to protect my ankles from chip-strap chafing). I left my hair loose and finished off the look with diamond studs and white gold hoops.

As usual, when the starting horn sounded, everyone went off way too fast. I got caught up in the momentum, but I was feeling good so I decided it was best to go with the flow and not risk getting trampled. The first hill was hard since I didn’t feel adequately warmed-up. The tunnel was horrible: all the walkers were crowded around the aid station and it was impossible to grab a cup, plus the smell of old car exhaust made me sprint towards open air. Once out of the tunnel, the cool breeze of the lake swept over me and I felt great. I hit the half way point around 1:52: much faster than I expected. I was starting to sweat so I reached into my pocket to retrieve an electrolyte tablet only to discover I had left them in the hotel room. Eek! I knew this meant trouble down the road. Sure enough, after topping Galer hill I felt the first twinge of a cramp in my quads. I cursed my legs and told them “we’re finishing this race and running the whole way, so buck up.” I forced myself to keep turning my legs over even though the pain was getting worse. Then it started to migrate: left quad, right calf, left hamstring, right arch, left toes etc….Something would seize, then let up as I kept forcing a quick cadence through the Arboretum. I looked at my watch, but couldn’t think clearly through the pain and couldn’t tell if I was on track for a BQ. I thought briefly about stopping, then decide a little cramping never killed anyone so I forged ahead. I flew down the last hill towards the stadium and suddenly all the pain went away. I crossed the finish line in 3:59:10. I got my 2009 BQ out of the way but missed a PR by a few seconds (my PR is 3:58:46). I finished 21 out of 402 in my age group. And, in spite of the horrible cramping, I had FUN!

Autumn Leaves 50k

I entered this 50k at the last minute as a result of a DNF at a 50k in October. That DNF was haunting me AND I wanted Seattle (Nov 25) to be my 20th race of marathon or greater distance, so I needed a redemption race.

The race morning weather was perfect: 30 degrees and pitch-black at the start, requiring me to wear a headlamp for the first time ever. By mile 9 the sun was trying to come up but we were blanketed in the fog, mile 20 saw the sun in all it's glory and made for a relaxing and joyful final 12 miles.

I intended to run this race slow... as a last long run before Seattle. Unfortunately, my legs didn't get the memo and started out much too fast. The whole group I was running with went off course at mile 7 due to darkness and did a nice little extra loop through mud and roots. Same thing happened at mile 12. (This was a 5 mile course that we ran 6 times plus a 1 mile out and back at the start of the race). By mile 17 the sun was up enough that we actual stayed on course and it was much easier! I lapped my first group of runners at mile 20, then lapped several others during the last 12 miles. Lapping people gave me an energy burst, but I managed to slow myself down by remembering this was a training run to prepare for my goal race in 3 weeks. I started the last lap and decided to take it really easy and slowed down considerably, walking every mile
for several minutes.

I crossed the finish line in 5:40:00, picked up my finishers medal (nice, handmade piece) and headed home. Last night I received an email for the Race Director with the draft results: I was 3rd woman and 17th overall out of 103 runners. I'm ready to start tapering for Seattle.

Fashion report: Black Triks Marathon Girl running skirt, black Brooks long sleeve tech T, Nathan hydration pack, Smartwool socks, Brooks Adrenaline 7 shoes, Black Brooks hat, gold hoops and diamond studs.

Northface Endurance Challenge 50k

Brutal...humbling...dnf. Biggest lesson learned: NEVER forget to respect the distance.

Very little was published about the course for the Northface 50K. The website described the 32 mile journey from Cougar Mountain to the top of Sauk Mountain and back in very poetic terms, talking about things like trolls living under bridges and owls stealing hats off runners heads. There were no elevation profiles published either. I had hiked a bit in that area and thought the trails were nicely maintained and very runnable, even the long uphill switchbacks could be walked at a good pace. I had already run 2 trail races of marathon distance or greater, so this race looked like the perfect 1st 50k. I couldn't have been more wrong...

The week leading up to the race had been stormy. Autumn had arrived a month early to the pacific northwest. I was prepared, though. I had a great packable rain jacket, wool running socks, wool gloves and nice, new winter tech gear from Brooks. I stocked my hydration pack with extra gels and sports beans in case the rain and cold sapped more than the usual amount of energy out of me. I even tapered for this race, something I rarely do.

Race morning I was up at 3:30 to make the 2 hour drive to Cougar Mountain. I arrived to find the starting area shrouded in darkness and veiled in a heavy mist, sometimes turning to rain. After a quick briefing by the race director (“it's slippery out there, you'll be jumping lots of logs, watch the descents!”), we were off. the course rolled gently until we hit the first aid station at mile 4, then it was a screaming downhill just as the sun was rising. Mile 7 start ed the first ascent of Suak Mountain. It didn't seem too bad at first. The trail was wide, steep and long. We climbed and climbed and climbed. Some of the leading 50 miler's flew past us on their way back down Suak and I got my first view of what real ultra marathoners look like when they descend: downhill lean, arms out like chicken-wings, legs wide and feet splayed in duck fashion. I made a mental note to hike a bit more before my next trail ultra and to practice downhill technique. I was getting tired, but still marching on, then suddenly the course veered off the main trail and straight up the mountain side. What started as a run, then turned to a hike suddenly became an all out scramble. I found myself using my hands to hold onto roots and branches as I climbed upwards. I finally understood the quote on the race shirt “run when you can, walk you need to, crawl if you must.” We reached the summit then quickly descended down the backside.... and on my backside too. The trail was so steep and muddy that I found myself sitting on my heels as I weaved through the trees. Two miles later we were on the valley floor, finally able to run again. I've never been happier to run. The small group I was traveling with were all rejoicing in the glory of actually running a segment of this ultra. Our joy was short lived, however, as we faced climbing Suak Mountain again..... first a hike, then back to scrambling up deer trails. The second ascent fried my quads. They became weak and wobbly, but I still managed to reach the top. Once again, we headed back down, this time toward Cougar Mountain. Our small group had scattered and I was running all alone. I liked it that way. I knew people were all around me, but at the same time could enjoy the solitude of the forest. I reached the 17 mile check point and for the first time looked at my watch. It was 11:00... 4 hours into the race and I was only half way! I had estimated a 6 hour race for myself based on past trail races. That wasn't going to happen, so I called my family and gave them an update so they wouldn't worry. I had one problem though, I had to be done by 2:00 to make it home in time for evening obligations. That gave me 3 hours to cover 15 miles. Very doable as long as we didn't continue to scramble up sides of mountains. Right after I left the aid station we started to climb again. Within 20 minutes my stomach started to act up, then around mile 20 I jumped over a log and when I came down my legs seized up in one gigantic cramp. I was completely immobile. I fished around for an electrolyte tablet hidden in my vest, downed it with a big swig of water and forced myself to continue hobbling down the trail. It seemed like hours passed, but in reality it was only minutes before my legs loosened up again and I was able to resume running. The cold rain had tricked me into thinking I wasn't sweating and therefore didn't need electrolytes. I decided to start popping succeed tablets every 30 minutes and try to restore some balance in my system to fight off future cramps. I passed what I thought was aid station 22... an unmanned water station...an hour after I left the station at mile 17. I looked at my watch. An hour had passed so that meant I had picked up my pace. Finishing by 2:00 seemed a real possibility and my spirits lifted. I ran on, and on and on. 30 minutes later I rolled into the next aid station. Great this must be mile 25! The aid station volunteers were all huddled around a few runners that were dropping out but I managed to get their attention and asked if I was indeed at mile 25. Nope, mile 22! It had taken me over and 1 ½ hours to cover 5 miles. My heart sunk. There was no way I was going to be able to run another 10 miles over this terrain, especially if I wanted to get home by 4:00. I decided to continue on and drop at mile 25 which should put me back at the start line. I struggled through the next 3 miles questioning my decision to stop my run. When I rolled into aid station 25, I gave up my chip and announced my decision to withdraw. Everyone tried to convince me to keep going, including some of the people I had run with earlier in the day. It was hard but I stuck to my decision to quit and headed back to my car.

Later that week, some of the marathon maniacs went out and remeasured the main loop since many of the experienced 50 milers were questioning the distance. The loop that was supposed to be 25 miles actually came in at 28 miles which explained the tremendously long time between mile 17 and mile 25. Somehow knowing I had actually ran 28 miles before dropping made me feel much better about everything.

I've been analyzing my performance and some of the lessons I learned may help others:

You can not predict your ultra time based on past performance. My two previous trail races of 26.2 or greater indicated a 6 hour finish for me. I was not mentally prepared to run for 8+ hours.

Do not rely on race websites for info: talk to people who have actually run the course. This was a new race though, so it wouldn't have mattered.

Never make promises to be somewhere the evening of a long race. I had family obligations and promised to be home by 4:00. As I was struggling along the course I kept weighing the advantages of finishing (even at a walk) against the disappointment of my family if I didn't show.

Electrolytes are still necessary even when it's cold and rainy.

Never check the race results when you DNF. Once the decision is made to drop, don't look back and start playing "what if" games with yourself.

All in all, it worked out for the best. I'm not injured. I am hungry to race again. Also, as I was driving home a huge explosion happened in Tacoma right when I passed. The whole freeway shook and debris starting hitting the pavement. I managed to get through, but the freeway was closed for hours afterwards. If I had finished the race, I would have been stuck for hours on I-5.

Haulin' Aspen Trail Marathon

I haven't been posting much lately because work and family have been taking all of my time.I have been running though, and had the chance to run a great trail marathon with Karl last weekend. Here's my report:
My second venture into the world of distance trail running was a blast and enough to make me want to focus on trails instead of roads. The Haulin’ Aspen Trail Marathon starts just outside of Bend, Oregon (around 4,000 feet) and climbs 2,500 feet in the first 14 miles, followed by 12 miles of downhill technical single track. I was worried about the elevation at the start and the climb during the race since I suffered greatly from altitude during my road marathon in Bend last summer. I was also worried about the heat. It turns out I had no reason to worry.

Race morning started out cool and crisp as we loaded onto buses at 5:15 a.m. 45 minutes later we arrived at Shevlin Park and stepped out into the 40 degree morning. I was bundled up in a long sleeve tech shirt and Marathon Maniac jacket. We had an hour to kill at the start, but it went fast as Maniacs gathered in a big huddle and talked of races past, present and future. Minutes before 7:00 I stripped down to my race attire: black coolmax running skirt, Marathon Maniacs yellow singlet, black Brooks hat, gold hoops and diamond studs, tomato-red Brooks Cascadia trail shoes and Iron Butterfly Dirty Girl Gaiters in shocking pink. I decided to carry a Brooks handheld bottle of Gatorade because the aid stations were 3-4 miles apart.

Karl and I started the race together, covering the first 3-4 miles at a very conservative pace. I knew the first half would be hard and wanted to warm up properly before starting the climb. We started climbing at mile 2 and it didn’t let up. Karl began using walk breaks according to his pre-race plan and I slowly pulled away from him. I was feeling good, but continued my slow and conservative pace. I caught a glimpse of Karl again at the 6 mile aid station and was pleasantly surprised to see him so close behind me. At mile 10 things turned nasty. The course sent us up a very step forest service road, in full sun and so steep everyone was walking. I remembered the advice I was given on the Ultra Board: walk with purpose, don’t just amble along. I tried my best to walk “with purpose”. I think I did fairly well, but I need to really practice my hiking before my next trail race. My legs don’t do walking. The aid station at mile 12 was in full blazing sun (although temps were still on the cool side) . I thought it would be good to refill my bottle before continuing the climb and was surprised to find I had barely drank any of the contents. Oops, that was a bad sign and I had to make myself start drinking more. Mile 14 marked the end of the climb and we turned onto single track trail for the 12 mile descent to the finish.

The trail was great… fully engulfed by forest and out of the sun just in time to avoid the heat. The downhill felt good but I had to keep my focus sharp since rocks and roots were jumping out of nowhere and taking unsuspecting runners down. I was a little concerned that my legs would tire from so much downhill and I would be stumbling near the end. Fortunately all of my hill training the past 6 months paid off and I was able to stay upright the entire distance. Others were not as fortunate and I saw many bloody marathoners doing their best to keep putting one foot in front of another as they edged closer to the finish. I crossed the finish line in 5:05. Good enough for a 4th in age group.

I grabbed some food, looked for the beer (gone thanks to the half-marathoners) and made my way to the shuttle bus line. I felt incredibly good without the stiffness and aching joints that are trademarks of a road marathon finish. I think I’m ready to tackle the Northface 50k in October.

Seafair Marathon 2007

I found myself at the start line of the Seafair Marathon facing the possibility that I may end the day with my first DNF (Did Not Finish). I had hurt my back cleaning the barn the weekend before, so the week leading up to the marathon consisted of a lot of rest and two short “loosen-up-the-legs” type runs. My back was feeling good, but every once in a while a pain would shoot through my lower back and into my hip. Standing there at the start I could feel myself favoring my back and being very careful not to bend over too quickly or turn suddenly. On top of having back problems, I was also facing a very hilly course on a hot and sunny day. I knew there would be very few flat sections of road and even less shade, especially the last half. Even so, I had plenty of energy and was looking forward to the run.

At the start line I found the huddle of Marathon Maniacs and joined in. We were busy talking about up coming races when I glanced at my watch: 6:55… 5 minutes until the start. Then suddenly the starting gun fires and off we go, 5 minutes early! Not a big deal for me, because I was ready, but a lot people were caught off guard and had to run to the start line from various locations in the athletes village. The course immediately started up the first hill and I was warming up well. I worked hard at controlling my speed since I’ve learned from experience that running my intended race pace (9 minutes per mile) during opening miles spells a finish line disaster for me. I’m best off running the first 3 miles at 10 mpm and then slowly increasing my speed. This ends up being harder than I thought on this particular day because the rolling hills prevent even pacing. Still the miles ticked by and I felt good, strong and fast. Unfortunately, the time on my watch did not agree with the feeling in my legs: my watch indicated I was slow. At the half way point I meet the Marathon Maniacs newest inductee, MM#611. We chatted a little as we climbed up yet another hill. I asked him if the course felt slow and he responded that it is a very difficult course to pace and that the race director actually published a mile-per-mile pace chart specifically for Seafair to help runners determine if they are on track. Dang, I didn’t see that and it would have been helpful. At mile 15 I did an all systems check. This is about the point I had expected to drop out because of back problems, but amazingly everything was feeling great. At mile 20 another big hill loomed before us, it was long and in direct sun. I managed to crest that hill only to find a screaming downhill that reduced many runners to a funny shuffle-limp as their quads gave out. Thankfully I had been doing lots of hill training and many hilly marathons over the past 6 months, so my quads didn't even know they should be fatigued. I passed a lot of people on that downhill. By this time the sun was out in full force and the course continued to roll. Eventually we turned the corner at mile 25.5, and I expected to coast into the finish chute, but no… another hill, and a steep one! As I crested the hill, I see Mr. Dove standing on the corner, cheering me in. I crossed the line in a disappointing 4:22. I felt like I had run a 4:00 and couldn’t believe I was as slow as the clock indicated, but physically I felt good and was happy with my performance. I finished, that was more than I thought I was capable of for this race.

When I returned home that evening I checked the results. To my surprise I was 5th in my division. It seems everyone was slow because of the course and the heat. The best part, though, is the marathon cured my back problems… not even a hint of soreness since mile 12 or so of the marathon. I'm planning on running lightly the next week or two before ramping it up again for the Haulin'Aspen trail Marathon in August.

North Olympic Discovery Marathon

I barely slept Saturday night. A few things were haunting me: First was a comment several Maniacs made after the Ultra when I said I was going to run the NODM. The gist of the comments was that it was a tough course and would be a challenge following a short but hilly ultra. Yikes. The other thing keeping me awake was the fact I barely ate following Saturday’s run. I have a hard time eating after marathons and even though I made a huge effort, I just couldn’t get much down. A major bonk during the marathon would be disastrous. I ended up rolling out of bed at 5 even though the race started at 9. I tried to eat breakfast and managed a cup of coffee and half a cliff bar. When I looked out the window I saw enormous black clouds billowing up to the west, but stuck to my initial plan of wearing my red Brooks short sleeve tech shirt, black running skirt, black hat, double diamond studs, Brooks Adrenaline 6GTS in copper and my watch. My goal time was 6 hours and I was planning to run my opening miles with 5 minutes of running, 5 minutes of walking until the legs warmed up. I was surprised that my legs didn’t feel tight at all as I walked to the start line. In fact, they felt quite good and even had some spring in them. I saw Lydenruner just in time to give him a big hug and wish him well on his BQ quest. Then I caught sight of one of my favorite Maniacs, Little Leslie. The NODM was the last of a 7 marathons in 7 weeks streak for her so we decided to start off together, knowing we would both be slow. As soon as the race started, someone dropped a full bottle of red energy drink and both Leslie and I were drenched from the knees down in sticky liquid. Then some guy in the back started running up my heels and even clipped my Achilles a time or two before he bumped me and passed in a huff. With all the commotion at the start, I forgot to turn on my watch so decided to pretend it was a no-tech run. At mile two I did an all systems check. My legs were fine, heart rate low, energy high. We passed Mr. Dove at mile 8. He wanted to be there in case I decided the marathon was too much, but after seeing the ease in which I was running, he knew I’d make it to the finish. Leslie and I were running well, too well for significant walk breaks and limited them to walking through the aid stations. The half way point came quickly, and with it the rain and head wind. The sticky stuff was washed from our legs and replaced with mud as we splashed along. The course started climbing and descending, with some of the descents so steep and slippery I was afraid of falling. Mile 20 I was still feeling great although the fear of bonking was always on my mind. At mile 23 I decided to speed up and get out of the dang wind/rain combo as fast as I could, but Little Leslie started to drop off the back. Finishing together was more important than finishing a few minutes faster, so I dropped my pace back down and waited for her to catch up. We crossed the line in 4:50:02.

The double weekend ended up being much easier than I thought possible. The soft trails of the ultra left my legs undamaged and the marathon was challenging enough that I didn’t slip into boredom (my nemesis). I can’t wait for my next challenge, I just have to decided what that will be. One thing I do know, this distance stuff suits me.

Lake Youngs Ultra

My last few marathons have left me with plenty of energy left at the end and an urge to go just a little bit farther. Stepping up to ultras seemed like the next logical step and gave me a new goal to focus on. There was a slight problem though: I didn’t have anyone to go on long trail runs with me. I have access to plenty of great trails, but several deaths and disappearances in our local forests in the past year or two was good reason to avoid training solo. What I needed was a fairly easy ultra I could run as an introduction to the sport. I was delighted when a fellow Maniac suggested the Lake Youngs Ultra, just an hour from my house and covering 29 miles in 3 loops. It sounded perfect. I could run 1 lap, 2 laps or if I felt really great, I could run all three. To make things even better, there was only 900 feet of elevation gain. With all that in mind, I sent in my entry.
Several weeks later, some friends started chatting about the North Olympic Discovery Marathon. The word on the street was that the NODM was flat, fast and incredibly scenic, run mostly on bike trails. OK, this one sounded like a must do, so I sent in my entry. This presented a challenge, however, because the NODM was the day following the Lake Youngs Ultra. I decided I was up for the challenge. I would probably run just one loop of Lake Youngs and I’d still get in a June marathon which was my primary focus. As the weeks went by, I started daydreaming about actually completing the full distance of both runs. It would be sweet to “do a double” and earn my 4 star Maniac status. Daydreams soon turned into goals and goals into training plans….

Saturday Morning: Lake Youngs Ultra

I woke at 4 a.m. to the sound of light rainfall. I dressed in a butter yellow coolmax t-shirt, black running skirt, black hat, Brooks Adrenaline 6GTS road shoes and double diamond studs. I decided to go no-tech (no watch or GPS) and run by feel. I arrived at Lake Youngs and immediately noticed a calmer, more laid back crowd than I’ve seen at marathons. 5 minutes before the start people started gathering around a white chalk line in the grass, kind of in a huddle. A few announcements were made and then the race director said “doesn’t anyone want to line up in front? No? Ok, then, I guess you can go now” and off we went, up a slight rise then plunging down a steep gravel hill. I did a little side step to avoid a pile of fur where some poor animal met its demise the night before. I kept my pace slow and my heart rate down as we made our way up and down the undulating course. At that moment I realized there was a 900 foot elevation gain PER LAP, 2,700 feet overall, oh well, I’d manage. The runners started spreading out and soon I was all alone. I lost track of time and distance, but it didn’t matter because I felt like I was ten again, racing through the woods looking at plants and searching for animals. There was a light drizzle, just enough to make everything smell so fresh and alive. Before long I found myself back at the start (now the aid station) and was surprised to see fellow runners milling about, eating cookies and fruit, talking on cell phones, and making clothing changes. Eventually one of these runners would get a determined look on their face and off they would go, down the trail for another lap. I wanted to fit in so I milled about awkwardly. The race director filled my water bottle, I grabbed a few cookies, did my best to don that determined look and shot off down the trail. Lap two was a bit slower as I added more walk breaks in an effort to conserve energy for Sunday. When I hit the aid station the second time around, I was a pro. I milled with the best of them, made a phone call, ordered up my bottle refill, made that determined face, and took off down the trail just in time for a heavy down pour. For a brief minute I thought about turning around, going back to the aid station and grabbing my rain jacket. I’m a true PNWer though, and decided to embrace the rain on my skin, letting it trickle down my back and drip into my eyes. The sound of the rain falling on leaves was like a metronome that set the cadence of my footfalls the last 10 miles. I crossed over the chalk-line in the grass in 5:45. I couldn’t believe I had been out there that long. I changed into dry clothes, gave Barefoot Jon a big hug and headed off for the marathon expo in Port Angeles.

Next: Sunday Morning, North Olympic Discovery Marathon

Capital City Marathon 2007

Marathon number 14 is in the bag. It was a great run and I’ve never felt better during a race. The day was bittersweet for me, though, as I found myself surrounded by my family of Maniacs and Boomers but also filled with suspicion and mistrust of a new friend…. I’ll get to that in a minute.

Saturday night Tet, Karl, Divechief, Rasmussenmp and Rnrwife had dinner at a neat little place down by farmer’s market. It was the first pre-race dinner that I have attended where everyone was a Boomer and a Maniac (or Maniac spouse), so the conversation revolved around various marathons: which ones to run, which to avoid, comparing notes on how to prepare for frequent marathons, etc…

Sunday morning was cool and wet. I met up with Hippo, Karl, Tet and SR Lopez at the start but quickly settled in with a group of Maniacs that I hadn’t really run with before. The first 7 miles were full of conversations that only Maniacs would find interesting, mainly how to train when you only have one to two weeks between marathons, how to recover and strategies for running doubles (two marathons on two days). We decided that someone needs to write an Owners Guide for Maniacs since none of this information is available anywhere except as pleasant conversation during races. It felt like a casual Sunday stroll with my best friends. I had decided not to wear a watch and run by feel, knowing there would be no clocks on the course, so I was not surprised to discover we had been running a 12 or 13 minute per mile pace. Around mile 7 the hills started and marked the beginning of my favorite part of the Capital City Marathon. I bid goodbye to my buddies and started the roller coaster run through the forests, farmlands and inlets of southern Puget Sound. At mile 13 I asked another runner what our split was: 2:16. A bit slow, but I am trying to let go of time goals so after a quick assessment of all operating systems (all systems running smoothly) decided to be happy with it and continue to enjoy myself. The miles ticked by effortlessly with mile 24 appearing out of nowhere along with Mr. Dove offering to run with me over the next mile. Mr. Dove got me to mile 25 and the start of a long descent to the finish line. I crossed amongst cheers from my family and co-workers (one of the hugh benefits of a hometown marathon) in 4:16. A negative split of 2:16/2:00.

Everything was wonderful. I felt great, I was in my town, I had just run my favorite course: then I checked the results. My son’s baseball coach, a 46 year old fitness runner who logs 15-20 miles per week, had finished 3rd overall. He finished ahead of well-seasoned, fast Maniacs; our local race favorite who logs 100 mile training weeks and several other talented, trained runners. I had just met the coach this year. He is a great guy who has been spending a lot of time with the little Dovelet, believing in his abilities and offering that tough mix of discipline and encouragement. He is also highly competitive. As much as I like Mr. Coach, I doubted his ability to run his first marathon in under 2:30 hours. I went home wondering how this could happen and what I should do about it. I checked race results on the internet… maybe he was a sandbagger or just humble and hadn’t mentioned his racing to me. Nope, no race results except a DNF at our local ultra several months ago. I continued to fret about this all night, trying to decide what to do. Monday morning the local paper had front page coverage of the race, Mr. Coach was still listed as 3rd overall. I decided I would wait until Monday night’s baseball game and innocently ask “how’d the marathon go?” before I alerted race officials.

Before the game start, Coach walked up to me a said “Did you see this morning’s paper?”

(Oh no, here we go, the moment of truth…. Get ready Dove….)

“Yes,” I replied “You ran a great race”.

“No, I didn’t. I ran the half and someone at registration forgot to make the change. I knew I had a different colored number than everyone else, but didn’t know why. I’ve spent all day trying to fix things. This is so embarrassing.”

Whew! My red alert signs were back to green, crisis over, faith in friend restored, universe is back in balance and I don’t have to worry about my son being coached by a cheater.

Marathon 14 is in the bag.

Vancouver International Marathon 2007

I’ve been in a bit of a slump since Boston. My times have been steadily
increasing since the beginning of the year compared to last year when I
was PRing every race. After Boston, I sat down for a long talk with myself. I realized I could only PR on base-building type mileage for so long, then I would need to train specifically for a target race and quit running maniac-style. I came to the conclusion I could either run a few fast marathons a year or many slow marathons. I was at a "fork in the road" with my running career and goals... quality or quantity? To make my decision I asked myself "Who do I admire most? Someone who spends 6 months to a year training for one fast marathon, or a mid-packer who cranks out 50+ a year?” Do I want people to say "Hey that's Dove, she's running her 101st marathon today!" or "Hey that's Dove, she ran a 3:30 once". I decided I value frequency over speed. Brooks also decided to sponsor me based on my presence at many marathons, not my chance of winning one. That tells me that much of world admires ordinary people leading extraordinary lives, not just elites that seem out of reach.

All that said, I approached Vancouver with the primary goal of trying to discover how to run a marathon for the quickest recovery, not the fastest clock time. I forced myself back into walk breaks (10-1's), even though conditions were perfect for me (49 degrees, steady rain) and marathon morning I felt like my legs had a PR in them. That first walk break was the hardest thing to do but I stuck with my plan and continued to do so the entire race. Did I set a PR? Not even close.... 4:21, 7 minutes slower than last year, despite the fact I am in much better condition. Am I happy with my race? Absolutely! I crested Burrard Bridge at mile 23 smiling and shouting to the spectators "I love marathoning, it's the greatest sport in the world!" The other runners sure shot me some dirty looks after hearing that!

Who knows, next year or 10 years from now the need to be speedy may win out, but for now I'll take the opportunity to run as many as possible. Next up: Capital City on May 20th. It’s a tough, hilly course and I’m sure I’ll be even slower than Vancouver… but it will be my 6th (and probably best) marathon this year.

Boston Marathon 2007

Even weeks out it appeared the perfect storm was brewing for the Boston Marathon. High winds, cold, rain and snow. The early forecast gave me plenty of time to obsess about traveling (especially after my Myrtle Beach Marathon fiasco), what to wear, what to take on the bus to Hopkinton and race strategy. I wasted a lot of energy fretting about things beyond my control.

Thursday morning I woke at 5:00 am and checked my flight status online because a storm had blown into Chicago causing the airport to shut down for several hours. My flight from Seattle to Chicago was on time, but my flight from Chicago to Boston was cancelled. This was one of my worst fears, all the effort it took to qualify for this race and not be able to physically get to the starting line. We went to the airport anyway and thankfully, by the time we arrived our Boston flight was showing as delayed, not cancelled. Finally, at 11:00 pm, we checked into our Boston hotel, exhausted from a day of travel, but so happy to get to our destination.

Friday morning we bundled up, walked ½ mile to the train station and caught the Blueline for downtown Boston. We hit the expo just as it was opening, picked up my race number and did all my shopping before the crowds arrived. We ran into Divechief (Dave) and wa5yom (Tim) at the expo as well as a few Marathon Maniacs. Those bright yellow Maniac jackets do wonders when it comes to picking out members of the clan and luckily both Divechief and I were wearing our Maniac colors.

Sunday we were up early and ran the ½ mile to the train station then ran another ½ mile through downtown. At 7:45 we meet other Boston Boomers for the 2 ½ mile Freedom Run. The Freedom Run was one of the highlights of my weekend and anyone misses the Freedom Run is missing a major part of the Boston experience. I was wearing the Maniac jacket again and had several MM come up and introduce themselves during the run. The Korean Marathon Team took a liking to me and Mr. Dove. We must have been stopped a dozen times by the Koreans to pose for pictures. In front of this monument with this Korean team member… that statue with that Korean member…. running with arms wrapped around other team members…. running with the girl in a traditional Korean dress…. it was so much fun.

After the Freedom Run we hopped the Greenline to Henry and Marj’s for brunch with the wonderful Boomers. We also got a chance to chat with the NW contingent who now seem like old friends even though we only see each other at pre-race dinners. The Nor-easter had blown in during brunch and made for a miserable hike back to the Greenline, and a grim taste of what was in store for us race morning. Mr Dove and I ended the afternoon with a ½ mile run from train station to hotel.

Fashion Flash: Marathon morning I decided to wear a red Brooks Podium Marathon Maniac long sleeve tech shirt, Brooks tights, black running skirt, Red Brooks hat, Brooks socks and Brooks Adrenaline 6 GTS shoes in copper.*

I woke several times during the night as the raging storm shook our hotel. Streets were flooding, power lines were down… it didn’t look good. Race morning was cold, wet, and windy. I grabbed my bag and headed for the buses. My timing was just right and I got on one of the first buses to Hopkinton. When we arrived the athlete’s village was flooding. I looked for Divechief and wa5yom who promised to save me a spot under the tent. I couldn’t find them but found one of my new Maniac friends from the Freedom Run and settled in for the long wait until start time. By the time the second wave was staged, the volunteers had given up on trying to sort people into their proper corrals (rain gear was covering up all the bibs) and it became a free-for-all. I found my assigned corral and noticed it was full of charity runners and bandits. I eased my way forward towards the 12th corral and was still surrounded by bibs in the 20,000+ range. No one was honoring their assigned corrals.

The start was a mess, charity runners 5 abreast blocking the way, bandits wearing ipods oblivious to the world and people walking right down the center line. This was not the Boston I expected! I worked hard to qualify and end up in a race that felt like the mega-Rock-n-Roll-a-thons. I wasted way too much energy dodging people who shouldn’t have been on the course, throwing on the breaks to avoid collisions with people who were walking by mile 2 or moving 10 feet sideways to get around a herd of runners in matching t-shirts. I was finally able to settle into a pace but my hamstrings had stiffened up after sitting for hours on the cold, wet ground and they were complaining. I ran the first half conservatively, clocking 9:20 minute miles. I sped up slightly the second half, then slowed down to a 9:35 pace in anticipation of “The Hills”. They never came. Oh sure, there was a rise here and there, and then a bump that got my heart rate up a bit and by mile 23 I was starting to wonder out loud “just where is that Heart Break Hill”. Of course some one answered “you passed it already”. So with three miles to go, plenty of energy left in the engine and no hope of getting a BQ time, I slowed even more and coasted in, saving my legs for another day. I crossed the finish line in 4:14:12. I chilled quickly after the race, even layers of polar fleece couldn’t keep me warm. We got back to the hotel, had a nice, hot shower and prepared to go back to town for a celebration with the Maniacs. I was too cozy though, and the thought of heading back out into the weather wasn’t pleasant so we stayed decided to go downstairs to the hotel restaurant instead.

The next morning I woke up with fresh legs and ready for another day of sightseeing. We took in a few sights, had lunch then the rain and wind picked up so we called it a day. Boston was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The spectators were amazing even in the nastiest weather. All the marathoners were treated like world class athletes and everywhere you went people were asking about the race. I can’t wait until next year, hopefully it will be 45 and sunny with a tail wind!

*Details to follow in another post.

Yakima River Canyon Marathon 2007

Yakima River Canyon RR

I still can’t wipe the grin off my face. The whole weekend was fantastic, one big party with a marathon in the middle. The thing about Yakima, though, is it is a marathoner’s marathon. Small, remote and NO SPECTATORS. None. They are not allowed on the course. Aid station volunteers and race officials are the only people besides other marathoners that you see and they are few and far between. Aid stations were located every 2 – 3.5 miles providing water and Propel, you were on your own for gels or other sources of energy. The course is also on the tough side. It is a net downhill course with major climbs at mile 14 and 22. It also offers a screaming downhill from mile 24 to the finish… perfect for a last long run before Boston. I knew all of this when I signed up so I didn’t expect it to be my best marathon ever.

The weekend started out with a Marathon Maniac Reunion which attracted over 80 Maniacs. The 50 Staters and 100 Marathon Club were also having small reunions, so serious marathoners were everywhere. The pre-race pasta feed featured John Bingham as the guest speaker. He did a great job tailoring his talk for the crowd… no need to talk about tips for completing a marathon, or what a great accomplishment it is, or any of those things that are covered during most carb-load dinners. We all knew marathoning and certainly didn’t need anyone to motivate us.

Race morning was chilly with temps well below freezing. Rain clouds were hovering overhead, but the forecast called for only a 10% chance that we would actually see raindrops. Mr. Dove and I joined the others to march the 1/3 mile from the parking lot to the actual start line, bundled up in gloves and throw-away sweaters. Mr. Dove was about to tackle his first marathon, so on the way to the start we went over our strategy: 10:30-11:00 minute pace with a ¼ mile walk at every aid station. I was going to be the pacer until Mr. Dove got sick of me, then he would send me on my way. Our goal was to finish, our secondary goal was to finish under 5 hours.

The race started nicely. Our first split was exactly 10:30 and remained there as we hit the first aid station. As planned, we walk ¼ mile then resumed our run. The ¼ mile walk only added 1½ minutes to our mile pace, but did wonders for our legs. I felt great. The running was easy and the scenery breathtaking. Our pace continued at a consistent 10:30 during running miles, and 12:00 during miles that we added a walk-break. We hit our first hill at mile 4 and I didn’t even notice. A bigger hill came at mile 14. We happened to reach the climb during our scheduled walk break and I noticed we were actually passing people who were running up the hill. Because we were walking so fast we decided to walk the entire ½ mile hill, picking up the run just before we crested the top and started down the other side. At mile 20 we were just where we wanted to be… on pace for a sub-5 hour finish. We continued on at 10:30 pace until we hit THE BIG ONE, a 1.6 mile climb at mile 22. Mr. Dove’s back cramped and he was having a hard time keeping his legs moving forward. We stopped to stretch, walk backwards, stretch again but nothing was helping. Mr. Dove gritted his teeth and managed to keep going, but in obvious pain. We reached the summit, stretch one last time then picked up our run, hoping Mr. Dove’s back would behave for the final 2 ½ miles. The back cramped again, but somehow he managed to ignore his pain and we ran across the finish line hand-in-hand in 5:12:13. The prez of the Marathon Maniacs was waiting for us with his camera, a big pat on the back for Mr. Dove and inquires about his next marathon. Hippo was there, too, ready to welcome Mr. Dove into the ranks of Marathoner. I was ecstatic: I had just run my best marathon ever, on the most scenic course imaginable, with my favorite person by my side and my friends cheering us on.

Myrtle Beach L.D. Marathon 2007

Short Version:

I ran a marathon this weekend. It was my 10th and completed 364 days after my very first marathon. My time was slow (4:21), but considering what I went through to run this marathon, it was the one I’m most proud of finishing. My family and I had quite a victory dinner afterwards.

Long Version:

I woke up at 3:00 am Wednesday morning to catch a flight to South Carolina for the Myrtle Beach Marathon. The weather forecast called for cool temperatures and I was looking forward to a nice, flat run along the coast. I was also bringing my mother along so she could visit with her best friend from high school, someone she hadn’t seen in 50 years although they talk almost every day. We arrived for a layover in Washington D.C. a little before schedule… then we sat….and sat…. and sat some more on the tarmack. Finally, an hour and a half after landing we pulled into the terminal. Rushing out of the plane, we quickly checked the departure board, afraid we may have missed our connecting flight. Thank goodness it was delayed and we had an hour before taking off again. An hour passed, then two before we were boarding the plane. As soon as we found our seats the crew ushered us back into the terminal: no co-pilot. We waited again. An hour later the co-pilot arrived, so back on the plane we went. And we sat….. and sat…..and sat again, watching planes around us de-ice and attempt to pull away from the gates. It was no use, the planes were frozen to the ground and trucks couldn’t get enough traction to break them lose. The crew eventually announced our flight had been cancelled and we were to deplane. We proceeded to customer service and we were informed that all flights to Myrtle Beach were full with huge standby lists. The soonest we could possibly get a flight would be Monday, two days AFTER the marathon. Could we fly somewhere in S. Carolina, N. Carolina or Georgia? Not a chance until mid week. Then we tried to rent a car with a few other stranded passengers only to find no cars available. How about Seattle, could they fly us home to Seattle? Nope, not until Saturday night or Sunday. Argh! O.K. maybe it wasn’t meant to be, could we get a refund or voucher for another trip? No again, act of God and all that stuff. We tried to get a hotel room but couldn’t find anything under $200 dollars a night. I looked at my watch: 1:30 am Thursday. I’d been awake almost 24 hours and had only eaten a bagel and two veggie tacos since Tuesday. Not the best pre-marathon diet. Then I had an idea (I think it was the lack of food/sleep that sent this delusion my way), maybe we could get to Arizona in time to run the Lost Dutchman! I checked for flights to Phoenix, no luck. Tucson? No. Palm Springs? Nope. San Diego? BINGO! 2 seats were available to San Diego the next morning, but it would cost us because we were changing our itinerary. Oh well, I forked over the money and we had two tickets in our hands. I called my wonderful S.O. who winters in Yuma, Arizona and asked if he could pick us up in San Diego and drive us to Apache Junction. He agreed and met us in San Diego only to find our luggage was hopelessly lost. The airline had no idea where it went and, unfortunately it contained all my running gear, including shoes.

We finally arrived in Apache Junction Saturday afternoon. A few quick calls and I located a pair of my favorite running shoes, then stopped at Target to pick up Champion shorts, a singlet and a jog bra. At the expo I registered for the race and bought some GU, Body Glide and sunglasses.

I arrived at the pre-dawn start line decked out in black Champion shorts, white Champion singlet, blue Brooks Adrenalines and socks that were too big and too thick. I had just five minutes to enjoy the pre-race campfires and coffee that have become a legendary part of the Lost Dutchman experience. The race director asked us to make our way to a chalk line drawn in the dirt as a shotgun blast signaled the sunrise and start of race. The remote location meant that the marathoners started alone, without crowds to cheer them on… just the company of fellow racers. It was a fast start, too, with the first 7 miles up and down (though mostly down) a dirt fire road. I let myself get caught up in the momentum…. partially because I was so happy to be running after 5 days off and partially because I didn’t have the mental strength to hold myself back. Mile 8 put us on pavement and along a highway. We would alternate between dirt and pavement, but the constant climbing and descending would remain with us throughout the day. The heat and hills were starting to take their toll on runners as many were reduced to a walk. By mile 20 my early speed caught up with me and I was having a hard time controlling my heart rate. I slowed to a snails pace, reminding myself that this was a training run for Boston and time didn’t matter. I continued to the finish with the slowest jog I could muster. I crossed the line in 4:21. My legs were cramping and my socks had caused my toes to look like they were capped with a series of red Jelly Bellies. I ate a little, sat around on the grass a little then hobbled back to the car. I looked down at my medal and thought how appropriate it was to be wearing the Lost Dutchman around my neck, my 10th marathon, 364 days after I ran my first and on the very same course.

Marathoning… it’s about the journey, not the race.

Carlsbad Marathon 2007

Carlsbad was my first of three marathons I'm running as "long runs" in preparation for Boston. I had enough of our horrible PNW winter and decided to head south for some sunshine, some beach time and a little hill training in the form of a marathon.

I arrived on Wednesday and it appears I brought the snow with me. Malibu was reporting snow fall and it was downright chilly in Carlsbad. The days leading up to the marathon were filled with 3-4 mile runs on the beach and longer barefoot walks. Since I was approaching the marathon as a long run, I didn't feel the need to taper.

Marathon morning I gave myself an hour to get to the start line. That seemed reasonable since my hotel was less than 5 miles away. I was wrong! Traffic was at stand still approaching the parking area, so I detoured and parked in a strip mall about a mile from the start. By the time I parked, I had less than 15 minutes to get to the race and as I approached, I heard the start gun go off. I found myself behind thousands of half marathoners and walkers... it took me an additional 5 minutes to cross the chip-mat ( both the marathoners and half-marathoners started at the same time). I was with my BF who was running the half, so we decided to stick together until the marathoners split off at the 5 mile mark. It was great fun to run together, weaving and dodging through the crowd. Soon I split-off to follow the full marathon course east and up a long grade while the rest of the crowd continued along the ocean. There were only 1,000 marathoners compared to over 6,000 half marathoners, so after the split the course really opened up. I really enjoyed the run up past the Airport. It was enough of an uphill to get the heart beating but not horribly difficult. The downhill was great for conditioning the quads! We returned to run along the ocean at mile 15, through nice rollers and a slight headwind after mile 18, which I found refreshingly cool.

I crossed the finish line in 4:14 chip time. I had a nice negative split of 2:13/2:01 with the last 6 miles being my fastest. The best part of the race was the way I felt afterwards… like I had just been out for a 4 hour walk. It’s nice to feel that way after running 26.2. Later in the afternoon I had enough energy to take a 3 mile barefoot walk along the beach for a total of 30.2 miles for the day. Maybe it’s time to think about an ultra!

FASHION FLASH....
Black marathon skirt, yellow Maniacs singlet, orange Brooks Adrenalines and sunglasses that BF deemed as making me look cool and unapproachable. No watch, no diamond studs, strictly business.