A Fairly Impromptu Rotary Park Trail Half Marathon

On Tuesday, my friend Andrea and I were hiking at one of my favorite trails, and I said, "Hey, I'd like to do a trail half marathon here sometime."   She said, "That would be great."  We usually run anywhere between 3 and 6 miles together on trails once or twice a week.  We run far together on roads--anywhere from 9 to 15 miles during any given training cycle, but for some reason, we always stop around six miles on our trail runs.   I said, "How's Saturday?"   The next thing we knew, we were planning Andrea and Donna's Rotary Park Trail Half Marathon or ADRPTHM.  Andrea's one of those GREAT kinds of friends who is up for anything.  Don't we all need one of those??

I invited several other friends to join us to help pass the miles.  And by several, I mean six.  The trail running community here is fairly small, especially on the female side.  I invited just about every trail chick I could think of, all five of them.  One came!  My neighbor and long-time running buddy Christie joined us.  The male side of the trail runners I know are all generally too fast for us to keep up with.  However, my neighbor and total trail beast Jeff generously came out and blazed a great and challenging 4.5 mile route for us.  He'd run ahead.  Stop.  Wait.  We'd catch up.  It involved this long serpentine hill of switchbacks over a very long time, followed by another fairly large hill.  It was great training for my upcoming trail races (Chuckanut Mountain Half Marathon, Rock and Root 18 miler, and Stump Jump 50K---I seemed to have missed scheduling a 26.2 in there....)

We really had fun out there.  Andrea and I ran fairly well on the first 4.5 mile loop trailing behind Jeff (nice pun....).  We did well on the first part of the second loop on our own until we confused a turn and wound up backtracking here and there and wandering in circles, then going back our original way after we decided it was, indeed, the correct route all along.  (It happens.  More than I'd like to admit....)   We made it back to our cars at 10.1 instead of 9.  I wouldn't say we were LOST per se, just couldn't recall where the route we were supposed to be on went.  We knew kind of where we were for the most part.  (Convinced?  NOT lost.)

I'm not going to lie, the last three were not pretty, especially the last one.  We had both had few carbs and with stopping by our car "aid station" a couple of times and taking pics and hitting the CLEANEST. PORTOJOHN*. EVER., we'd been out there a LONG time.  (*Runners really appreciate a fresh port of john.  Really.)   But we had good conversation and kept running (albeit slower and slower near the end), and it was a success.

Zero snakes.
One blister.
Five challenging hills.
One sore toenail.
13.1 miles on a gorgeous trail.

It was a GOOD day.

You Get What You Train For---Viola Valley Half Marathon Race Report

Yesterday, I ran the Viola Valley Half Marathon in beautiful Viola, TN.  The whole family and I had gone to Manchester, TN, the night before and spent the night with my in-laws, who were only about 32 minutes from Viola.  

I got up at dark o'clock (4:30 a.m.) and left the house at 5:30.  It was chilly at 46 degrees, with a threat of rain.  I got to watch the sun rise over gorgeous country roads and arrived just after 6:00 a.m.  The race was well organized, and packet pick up went smoothly.  I ran into my running buddies Kathy and Michelle from Clarksville (in the portopotty line---of course!) and took pics with Justin and Angie from a FB page I follow, Run365. Justin and I had met at Go Commando last October and ran 10 miles of it together.   Then I ran into Bill and Diane, from Run It Fast, whom I had met last summer.   

We started, and by mile 2 or 3, I heard "Sunshine!"   My good friend George Boxley was coming up from behind.  He made my night last year at the Run Under the Stars when he'd call me "Sunshine"  every time he passed me on the 1/2 mile course. How can you not smile when someone calls you "Sunshine"?    At one point for a mile or so, Justin, George, Kathy, Michelle, and I were all running in a large group.  I think that was one of my favorite parts!   It was short-lived though.   Justin and I fell back at a water stop, and George and Kathy pulled away. Michelle was right in the middle, and we passed a few miles together.  She wound up beating ALL of us, with a strong surge in the later miles!

I was running about a 9:45/pace for most of the first 6 miles, with a 9:38 mile in there somewhere.  The course rolls and rolls.  I noticed my breathing was louder than I'd like around miles 5 and 6.  Mile 6 was my last mile in the sub-10 range.  In miles 7 and later, I slowed down to a 10, 10:10, and even and a couple way off my goal pace of 10-minute miles---10:28 and 10:31.  I think those were miles 8 and 9, always my toughest miles.  I wound up running alone after about mile 7.   I fought tired legs and hills and stomach upset a bit in those miles, but got it together and ran 10-minute miles for the last couple.  The best part was, other than a few sprinkles, the rain held off until I was in my car on the way back to Manchester!

This half-marathon was 9.5 minutes slower than one I ran in October. However,  I can't be too upset.  You get what you train for.  At that one, I was coming off four months of speed work and hard, HARD training.  For this one-- My last half-marathon was April 5.  I had a terrible 12-miler the following week with tons of IT band pain, and that was when the doc ordered me to take a little break for 4-6 weeks.  I've had several good 3, 5, and 6 milers in the hiatus of 5 weeks.  I had an ok 8 miler and a pretty bad 9 miler, nowhere near a 10-minute pace, about a week and a half before the race.   So, I think it's to be expected that I would run well the first 6 or 7 miles, then struggle.  I am proud, however, that I got it together in the last couple of miles.  I finished by my garmin at 2:11:04, a 9:59 pace, for 13.12.   I think my official finish is 2:11:09 or something.  I must have delayed hitting the start button a few seconds or something.  I realize now that I could have gone out a few seconds slower, maybe 9:55, and struggled less during the later miles of the race.   

It was a good test. I walked a few of the rolling hills throughout and also through many of the water stops. I made my pace goal of averaging 10-minute miles.  I would have LIKED to come in sub 2:10, but I was aware that 2:12 was more realistic.  The IT band made its presence known at mile 9, but never really hurt.  It just tightened up.  It was a little tight and achy last night and this morning.   

A few pics.  I thought this tiny town hall was cute!  

These are a couple of pics from the beautiful course, courtesy of Justin Stroud.  Seriously, it is a gorgeous run!   

It isn't always a "great day," but I love running and the running community.  I enjoy watching sunrises and seeing 13 or 26 miles of a new place on foot.  It's nice to cross starting lines and even nicer to cross finish lines.  Running adds so much to my life.  It may not feel like it at the time, but every mile is a blessing.  

Injury, Recovery, and a New Direction for My Running

I haven't blogged in a while.   Most of 2014, I have been plagued with pain outside my right knee (and sometimes the left as well) at the point of IT band insertion.   I have a swollen bursa (fluid-filled) sac at Gerdy's Tubercle, the little bony protrusion on the outside of my knee.  It feels like a stabbing pain at times; other times, it's a dull burn.  I'm pretty darn excited that I self-diagnosed it based on information I found on the Internet. When I finally went to the doc in April, Dr. Kurt Kowalski and my physical therapist Dave confirmed that's what it was.

The stabbing pain had started on my VERY FIRST RUN of 2014, a 15-miler on my favorite Rails to Trails route.  After that, it hurt off and on, usually at miles 14+ of pavement runs.  It didn't bother me on my trail marathon or trail 23K.  It REALLY hurt during the later miles of the Greenway Marathon in March (all pavement).  Two weeks later,  I ran the Oak Barrel Half Marathon with my husband in early April without pain.  It was a very hilly course, and I was relieved that the IT band didn't hurt at all.  I was proud that Hubby ran a personal best that day.  We ran every step together for a 2:16 finish.  I thought maybe the IT issue was healed or that it was an issue that would only bother me in marathons.  Then it started hurting on 5-milers.  Then 3-milers.  That's when I went to the doc.

I went to see Dr. Kurt about two weeks before I was planning to run a 50K at the Run for Kids Challenge on a very beginner-friendly course.  He nixed it and said to run only short distances on primarily soft surfaces.  However, when your ortho doc is a Boston Qualifier who longs tons of miles a week, you should probably ask him to define what "short distances" means.   For a couple of weeks I ran 4 miles and under, then I added some 6-9 mile runs.  Mostly, the IT band felt ok.  (Well, in full disclosure, it hurt starting at mile 7.5 of the 9-miler last Wednesday, but just a little!) I also went to two physical therapy visits to get some strengthening exercises for my left side (weakness there makes my right leg work harder- the potential root of the problem).  He also gave me some stretches and pointers on KT tape.  He made me realize I need to do more strength work, and I have been.  I am glad to be back to circut/strength training.  I didn't realize how much I'd missed it.   I've sort of enjoyed these short, but intense runs over the last month!

This weekend will be the TEST.  I'm running the Viola Valley Half Marathon that I was registered for last year, but didn't run.  It is a hilly, paved 13.1 miles.  My longest run since early April has been 9 miles.  I don't know how my endurance will hold up or how the IT will feel.  But I NEED to know these things.  I need a baseline for my current endurance/speed/health.

I've run 66 races (assuming I remembered to log them all on here), and I'm inexplicably excited about this one-- my 23rd half marathon.   I guess it's because I've been struggling for a while with my running.  First, I had energy issues due to Hashimoto's (an auto-immune disease that causes hypothyroidism in me).  Then, I couldn't run without pain.  Now, I just want a baseline to see where my body is.

It's predicted to be 48 and 70-80% chance of rain during the race.  Those are not my favorite conditions!  But, I don't care.  I'm ready to run.  I crave the long-distance run.  I love that completely wrung out feeling at the end of races.

Since my IT feels 80% better, I've made BIG PLANS this week.  I have a race a month scheduled for the next few months.  Funny, all of the races after this weekend that I'm currently registered for are on a trail (or crushed limestone at Run Under the Stars). I want to become a TRAIL BEAST!!!   Here are my upcoming events after Viola Half.  These are all registered and paid for so, there will be no waffling!

JUNE-Run Under the Stars 10-hour Endurance Event in Paducah, KY,  We will run a 1/2 mile horse track from 8:00 p.m. until 6:00 a.m.  Fun!!  The plan is to not re-injure this IT with the counter-clockwise circles (Dr. K said that could be bad).  I might get to 40 miles this year, I might not.....

JULY-Chuckanut Trail Half Marathon in Bellingham, WA.  I'm visiting a friend, and we are running this race together, along with a high school friend of mine, who happens to live there!  3,000 feet of climb over 13.1.  INTENSE!!

AUGUST-Rotary Park 4-5 mile NIGHT trail run with my 13-year old son. Headlamps required!  Fun!!

SEPTEMBER- Rock and Root 30K in Oak Ridge, TN.   The Hill of Truth (run up it twice!) looks interesting.  25% grade at times.  Yikes!

OCTOBER- Stump Jump 50K trail race in Chattanooga, TN.   This one scares me.  It will be my first attempt at 50K on a trail.  Last year, most participants were attacked by yellow jackets.  Some got 12 or more stings!    Also, the course is really challenging.   There are many easier courses for a first trail 50K.   But, I picked this one.  My friend Ryan said to "Train like Hell" for this one.  I plan to.   Honestly, I'm very intimidated by this race, the bees, the difficulty of the course, and the 9-hour cut-off.  (17 minute pace should be doable unless the wheels fall off and roll away--which could happen!)   But sometimes you just have to do THIS:

After that?   I dunno.  Maybe a road race!   Midsouth Marathon in November looks good, and there is always the Flying Monkey Marathon that I need to redeem.

Run happy, my friends!!

Nashville Greenway Marathon Race Report-- Marathon #14

A few weeks ago, I ran the Nashville Greenway Marathon on a chilly Sunday morning.  I had never been on the Nashville Greenway before even though I live only an hour or less from several trail heads.  I didn’t really know what to expect except a few hills.

My 13-year old caught a stomach bug on Tuesday of race week, and sure enough, it hit me on Thursday.  It wasn’t a bad one, but I wasn’t at 100% by the Sunday start.  Almost though.   I ran two easy miles on Saturday to test my tummy and to shake out my legs.

A small group of about 94 or so of us started at 7:30 a.m.  I knew about 6 or 7 runners and 3 volunteers.  It’s always nice to see friendly faces at races out of town!   I tried to hold back somewhat in the first few miles, averaging around 10:15 or so.  In hindsight, I probably should have run more like 10:25 or 10:30 per mile early on as a warm up.  (My best training run had been 18 miles at a 10:28 pace though.)  It’s just hard to know. 

Somewhere between miles two and three, I saw a runner just ahead whom I kind of “knew” through Facebook and Twitter and mutual friends.  I sped up and caught him and introduced myself.  As it turned out, he had also had a virus in the last few days and was not feeling very well at all.  He was considering turning around and running back to the start.  He said he’d decide for sure at 8 miles.   We chatted and the miles passed quickly.  I was aware that I was running more his (sick day) pace than mine, but I was enjoying the conversation.  There were a few spots where the course wasn’t very well marked, and I was glad to run with someone who knew the Greenway route.   Race-day buddies are always fun.  You find out things in common like you are both parents of three kids, you have run some of the same races in the past, and of course you share your philosophy of running and races you hope to do and tell race stories from ones you have run.   There is never a shortage of conversation (or maybe that’s just me!).   I have been blessed to pass many, many miles with a new friend in many of my 14 marathons. 

We were running somewhere around a 10-minute pace—sometimes 9:55, sometimes more like 10:10 for a long time.  The eight-mile-mark came and went, and my friend kept going.  Around mile 12 or 13, the pace really caught up to me—much earlier than it should have, honestly.  I began to fade.  Legs felt heavy.  Energy was flagging.  Ugh, that’s the PATTERN I’ve had in all of my recent marathons.  Things are hard earlier than they should be.  Yes, I often go out a bit too fast (but not crazily so), but that wall just keeps on moving earlier!   I’m hydrating.  I’m taking in carbs every 40 or 45 minutes.  But it is as if those carbs never make it to my muscles in the form of energy!  It feels much like the way I feel on a carb-depleted run.   However, on those runs, I am usually running slower.  Hmmm....

Finally, around 14, I had faded to a 10:30 or 11:00 min mile pace, and my friend was feeling better, so he went on.   My body was saying STOP and walk.  I began to run/walk.  It was as if my legs couldn’t run another step, but I forced them to keep moving.  I remember at mile 16 thinking I could just walk the rest of the way and trying to figure out how long that would take!

When I saw the mile 20 sign, though, it was as if the cloud lifted a bit.  There is something MAGICAL about seeing that 20-mile-marker.  You know you are going to be alright.   It may be painful, but you’ve come that far, and there’s just a 10K left.  I started running more and more.  I ran fairly well in the last two miles of the race, especially.  At that point, “running well” means an 11:30 pace, but not walking any or much at all.

I didn’t get really discouraged when things fell apart.  Things have fallen apart in my last 3 road marathons.  I think I’m getting used to it!   It happens and you just dig deep and FINISH.   Around mile 20, I knew I could probably come in under 5 hours if I didn’t walk too much.  For me, under 5 hours is still an OK day.  Under 4:45 is a good day.  Under 4:36 would be a GREAT day.   It’ll happen sometime…. Maybe.  I kept my emotions under control though and enjoyed the beauty of much of the course.  There were some really scenic areas along fields and the river.  I was really impressed with this beautiful greenway and plan to return to run there again!

This was my first full marathon since my Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis diagnosis on February 28.   It is an autoimmune disease in which my immune system is attacking my thyroid.  The thyroid gland regulates metabolism and energy and endurance.  I PRAY that falling apart around mile 13 isn’t my new normal.   I don’t want to run strictly half marathons.  I want to run marathons and ultramarathons.   I can let go of the idea of running fast a little easier if I get to run FAR.  I just have to adjust my expectations a bit, I’m afraid.  Maybe faster times are ahead of me, maybe they are behind me.   Symptoms of Hashimoto’s include muscular weakness and lack of stamina.  Another potential symptom is associated with malabsorption of vitamins, like B1 (Thiamin).   You know what B1 does?  It allows your body to convert carbohydrates to energy.   One studied showed that MONSTER doses of B1 made a big difference in the way Hashimoto’s patients felt.   When you take a monster dose, even if little is absorbed (the rest is excreted in urine), you are closer to getting a “normal” amount.   I started supplementing this week!

Snowpocalypse: Land Between the Lakes Trail 23K Race Report

Six days before the LBL trail 23K, marathon, 60K and 50-miler, the Land Between the Lakes area in Kentucky received 3 inches of ice topped by 4 inches of snow.  Some melting had occurred on Thursday and Friday in areas that receive sun, leaving behind a MESS of some hard-packed snowy areas with about 4 inches of snow and ice, some soft snowy/slushy areas, and lots of runoff and mud from the melted snow. However, I hadn't previewed the trail prior to the race to see how much snow remained, so I didn't really know what awaited me!

I spent the night before the race in Grand Rivers and had a wonderful dinner with some very cool trail runners from all over.  I only knew two of the people at our table of nine, but we were all quickly friends. It is funny--meet a runner for the very first time and immediately have a thousand things to talk about.  I love the running community so much.  One gentleman at our table was one I had passed some miles with at my last trail race two weeks ago.  The trail-running community is fairly small!

I tossed and turned for maybe 3 hours in my very own queen-sized bed and then gave up at 3:55 a.m., an hour before my alarm was set to go off.  I rarely sleep well before races!   Our hotel was super race-friendly, and they started serving breakfast at 4:30 a.m.   I started with coffee.  Of course.  4:30 a.m. selfie:

I only had to drive five minutes to the race start.  As I parked my car at 6:00 in the morning in downtown Grand Rivers, I should have had an inkling of what was to come.  Walking the quarter-mile from the parking area to the start, I had to skate across solid sheets of ice and step across mounds of plowed snow.

The first mile or so was on a main road, so it was clear.  Then we turned onto a side road that was solid ice!  From there we turned onto the 11-mile Canal Loop Trail, and I was surprised it looked like this:

The hard-packed snow was runnable, but it was treacherous.  It would be very easy to slide off down that embankment!

Throughout the race, there were 10 stream crossings!   We'd slip and slide down a snowy embankment, wade through 4-5 inches of mud, attempt to jump across the stream (with varying degrees of success!), and then hike up the slippery, snowy other side in our now muddy and possibly wet shoes.  There was certainly no danger of getting lost.  Just follow the dirty snow!

I was pretty happy that my stream crossings were successful and my shoes stayed dry through mile 7.   However, after that, my left shoe and sock were soaked during a stream crossing.  Then a few minutes later, both were soaked.  Icy melted snow water is pretty darn COLD on your feet!

Somewhere after the 10K point, I ran into my friend Dawn and we ran most of the rest of the race together. She is from Toronto, and running in the snow wasn't foreign to her.  We chatted and made the best of a tough situation!  Somewhere around mile 9, I turned to say something to her, then when I turned back around, I lost my footing on an uneven snowbank and fell right over.  It wasn't a graceful or an epically cool fall.  I just fell over onto the snow.  It was my only fall of the day, shockingly!

Also about mile 9, the temp started heating up and the hard-packed snow was no more.  It was a soft, slushy kind of snow that your shoes sink deeply into with every step.

It was also around this point that I realized how tired I was from fighting the snow.  If you've ever run in sand, it was like that at times---except the sand was slippery and made your feet cold!   Dawn and I started hiking the uphills at this point.  I couldn't get any traction at all!

At mile 11, I realized something startling:  my feet were numb.  Both of them.  Completely.  I could not feel my toes.  Of course, they'd been wet and immersed in snow and mud for many miles at this point!  Getting pretty sloppy:

 I kept plugging along though, numb feet and all.  I knew we were almost done with the trail and waited expectantly to see pavement as the last 1.7 miles were on the road back into town.

PAVEMENT NEVER LOOKED SO GOOD!   I exited the trail and turned down the still ice-covered side road, then I was back on the main road.   We had to go up two long, gradual hills.  Last year, those hills disheartened me.  I had run a terrible race and felt awful at that point.  I basically walked the whole 1.7 miles.  This year, I EMBRACED those hills and made a deal with myself:  I will NOT walk on this home stretch.  And I didn't.  I also "chicked" four guys (passed them), but a girl also chicked me.   It does feel good to pass four men on the home stretch, I'm not going to lie!  

It took a while for me to get my road legs back, but finally by the end, I was able to get down almost to normal half-marathon pace.  My legs had taken a beating though!

Last year in my terrible race on the same DRY trail, I finished in 3:07, head down, spirit broken.  This year, I finished in 3:06:55 with a happy and determined smile on my face. That is a WIN in my book!

As it turned out, it was probably the toughest 14 miles I've ever run.  The Canal Loop at LBL is fairly challenging anyway, but fighting with snow, mud and ice certainly added to the challenge.  I will definitely remember my snowy run!

Post race with my friend Dawn and new friend Rob:

26.4 Miles of Blue Sky: Dry Creek Trail Marathon Race Report

Last Sunday, I ran the Nashville Running Company's inaugural Dry Creek Trail Marathon at the Cheatham County Wildlife Management Area.  It is a hunting area, primarily, but it is open to hikers at various times of the year.

It was a GORGEOUS day.  The course was a mixture of dirt/gravel roads (about 21 miles) and technical steep hills covered in about a foot of leaves.  Some runners called it a "hybrid."   The course looked fairly flat on the elevation profile, but in reality, it was hill after hill after hill.  (And one mountain.)

I started the race with my friend Andrea.  We had trained together and hoped to stay together for most of the first half.  We started off down a long gravel road with large, loose gravel, then turned off onto a rutted dirt road.   Is this the BLUEST sky or what?  I really enjoyed the scenery.

Part of the fun of this course was avoiding all the giant mud puddles that were sprinkled all over the course.  We settled into a nice pace and chatted as we ran.  Around mile 3.5 or so, we turned onto the real trail portion and started going immediately downhill.  It was the steepest downhill I've ever attempted to run.  I used the "Ryan" (Ploeckelman) technique as I ran down the hill--arms out, airplane style.  He had showed me this technique once at Rotary Park.  I only slipped in the leaves once.  They were a little damp!  It got much steeper than this.  Here is one of the two trees down that we had to hurdle.

At the bottom of this steep, leafy hill was a creek and some feeder streams.  We had to hop across two tiny streams and the larger creek.  There was a small log on the edge in the creek, so we stood on it and jumped. Of course, it rolled on lift off, but that made it fun.  Dry shoes prevailed!  

After that, we ran across a large, open field.  See that hill in the distance??   Yeah....

Then it was time to go up, up, and up.  For what seemed like the next three miles, we climbed out of the creek bottom.  I power hiked the hill above.   Finally, we arrived at mile 7, which also happened to be race headquarters.  From there, it was just a 3-ish mile out and back down a gravel road.  This section was definitely the hardest for me.  It was a little boring, and I felt like I was fighting the rocks and loose gravel. This was a rare flat portion on the home stretch.  

Andrea and I stayed together for 12 of the 13.1 miles.  It made the first half so pleasant.  I finished the first half around 2:38 or so, but stopped to refuel at headquarters and drop some unneeded gear and hit the one bathroom.  I headed out SOLO for loop two at around 2:40 on the clock.  There was one runner way in front of me whose shirt I could see occasionally.

The first time around, I hadn't been paying attention and that first segment down the long gravel road made me sure I had missed the first turn.  (I hadn't.)  Just before panic officially set in, I saw the sign marking the right turn onto the dirt road.  Whew!   At that point, I knew I just followed the road to the trail.  During that stretch, a guy and a girl both passed me.  It made me feel relieved that I wasn't out there totally alone like in my first trail marathon last April, but I didn't try to strike up a conversation with either of them.  I was enjoying being alone.   

It was at that point, around mile 15 or so, that I noticed how BLUE the sky was and really began to appreciate the beauty of the day.  That first picture up above was taken then.  I just felt happy (though tired) and blessed to be out there in the country doing something I enjoy so much.  I enjoyed the leafy downhill once again (tripped twice but didn't fall!) and had fun crossing the creek and streams the second time around.  I passed one of the more cautious (smarter??) runners on the downhill.   At one point flying down the hill, I said, "I'm running like Ryan" and then realized I was talking to myself. OUT LOUD.  It happens.

I climbed out of the creek bed again--a little faster the second time-- and finally got to mile 20, which was headquarters.  I quickly refilled my two water bottles and headed out for that last portion.  I was still smiling though.  As I entered the aid station, someone said, "I love to see a runner still smiling at mile 20!"  I had on my Run Happy shirt, so I couldn't very well frown.  

However, soon after that, it hit.  THE WALL.  About mile 21, I just had a sudden loss of energy.  My legs felt heavy and wanted to walk, not run.  I was already power-walking all the hills, and I had to make myself run the flats and the downhills.  I always say, "Downhills are a gift from God!  Never walk them."   So, in 21-23, I had to dig fairly deep.  I caught up to one of the runners who had passed me earlier.  We chatted a little and he was struggling a little more than I was, so I went on ahead.   I got to the turnaround and knew there was just a bit over 3 miles back to the finish.   I was feeling very DONE.  I was tired of fighting the gravel.  My right shin hurt.  My lower back was tight.  I could tell that the longest training run I'd done on similar terrain was 10 miles.  I had outrun my trail fitness.  It was just up to mind over body.  But, honestly, when does it not feel like that at mile 23??   I was determined to get to the finish as quickly as possible.  

At mile 25.5 or so, I saw someone coming toward me on the trail, and it was my friend and neighbor Jeff, who had come out to run me in.  I appreciated that so much!   Jeff and I ran/walked that last uphill mile, and I finished at 5:26:50 officially for about 26.4 Garmin distance.   

I was proud of that time.  It got difficult (they always do), but I never got discouraged.   I made my time goal.  I enjoyed the day.

Overall, I'd say it was in my top 5 marathons.   It was my 3rd trail marathon, 11th marathon overall, and 13th marathon or ultra.  It is hard to beat the PERFECT day I had at the Kentucky Derby Marathon in 2012 and the perfect night I had at Run Under the Stars ultramarathon last June.  Might be 3rd though!

Respecting the Distance

I am officially in TAPER for the Dry Creek Trail Marathon in two weeks.   It has been a cold and dreary winter here in Tennessee (and basically EVERYWHERE except for my friends in So Cal--by the way, I hate you..... jk).  

It has been the kind of winter that makes you want to stay curled up in flannel pj's drinking a hot beverage instead of getting out and pounding the early morning pavement.  But if I've learned anything in my 6.5 years of running, it is that you must respect the distance.   Sheer respect (and fear?) of 26.2 trail miles has gotten my booty out the door on many a cold day this winter.  (Yeah, cold is relative-but this is Tennessee, and I'm a Southerner, and I find 5 degrees appalling.)  

All my runs this week were uncomfortably chilly--except maybe the one on the treadmill.  In a certain amount of wind, no amount of clothes makes you feel warm.  I ran 20 miles on a fairly mild day last Saturday, but Monday was a snow day for the kids, so I hit the treadmill for 3 miles.  My legs were still a bit tired.  On Wednesday, a friend and I ran 10 miles (in the middle of the week---what???) on an unpaved path along a river.  Legs were still tired.  It was very windy on this route by the river and snow pelted us in the face most of the miles. Real feel temp was about 17.   Hard to enjoy, but we tried.  On Friday, I did run an impromptu fun and fridgid two miles on a trail still covered in light snow.  That was actually kind of fun.  And short.  Short helps.  Today, I moved my training group's run (and my 14 miler) to midday.  I was hoping for 38 and sunny, but got about 34, cloudy, and windy.  I am OVER it.  And guess what?  My legs were still tired.

But it's TAPER, so it's all good.  Now I just need to rest them.  I've done all I can at this point.

I've run at least 3 X per week.  Long runs have been 14, 15, 17, 19, and 20.  I think that's a pretty good progression.  In the past 8 days, I've run 49 miles.  (No wonder my legs are tired.....)  I've run bunches of trail miles, but no more than 6 technical ones at a time.  I think I'll be fine though.  I was about equally or even less trained for my other two trail marathons last April and June.

As I lay on the bed typing, my legs are burning.  They do this sometimes. They didn't last week after 20 miles for some reason, but they are on fire tonight after only 14.  Wonder what that is???

I'm still really excited for the race.  I'm ready enough.  :-)