Hey there loyal readers. My friend Dane is a finalist for the Energizer Keep Going Hall of Fame. Dane is the author of See Dane Run, the story of how he ran 52 marathons in 52 days all while working as a lawyer, to raise money ($44,000) for L'Arche-Mobile. He has also run the Baltimore and Pittsburgh marathons as the last runner to start, earning money for every runner he passed, to benefit local organizations. Please click here to vote for him in support a runner who is devoted to helping our community.



Borrowed from his Facebook because I know my blog readers are suckers for runners and kids

Signing Up

I’m not sure why I signed up. I spoke with Toby and a few other friends who run Ultras and the general advice I received was 1) train in similar conditions (i.e. trails) and 2) run a marathon 6 weeks out (Pittsburgh) and another 3 weeks out (Vermont City). I was planning to run Pittsburgh, and Vermont fell into place so although I hadn’t trained on trails I thought I’d be in good shape to run the race. It was also my birthday weekend, so what better way to celebrate? I might be older, but signing up for this ultra shows that I am clearly not wiser.

Pre-Race

I go to the pasta dinner and meet lots of lovely people, many of whom are veteran ultra marathoners, Ironmen, and the like. The food is good and everyone is positive and encouraging- I love runners. Tim Hewitt, one of the race directors gets up to describe the course and someone at our table mentioned that he ran the Iditarod. After he spoke, I asked if he had been in the Post-Gazette in March (he had) and I erroneously thought that he was the runner who shared my article about Antarctica. He wasn’t, but he sat next to me for dinner and it opened up a really interesting conversation where I found out that he was the first American finisher at Badwater, he was the winner of the Iditarod (1,100 miles!!), and he was the only man to run it twice. I went to the Inn where I was staying and it was quaint and beautiful. I had an amazing room with a fireplace and four post bed. A few other runners were staying there and it was just lovely getting to know them and hear how they came to toe the line.

Race Day

I’ve been told that the bus that takes you to the start is hard to find so I follow Brian, a Laurel Highland veteran staying at the Inn. I notice that a) we are late and b) Brian drives roughly 75 mph. We make it with three minutes to spare (usually I’d leave more cushion) but I’m not going to fuss since I made it. I make friends on the bus and at the start and after a half hour, I begin the race with 65 of my newest friends. We run on paved road for a half a mile and then turn onto the trail. I have a feeling I’m in trouble when the start of the trail is steep log steps. The first three miles are up. The rise is spread over a few miles so the climbs are manageable, especially if you’re willing to walk (the racers around me are). The trail is technical enough that now I understand why experienced runners recommended I train on similar terrain. The rocks are slippery with morning dew, rocks and roots are frequent and there are enough patches of mud. It wouldn’t be hard to hurt yourself pretty badly in a fall or misstep. I frequently have images of myself falling forward and smashing my teeth on a rock. This is when I’m not looking out for snakes and bears, which are said to have been seen on the course.

I paid to do this?!

Read above about being older, not wiser.

The descents are fairly steep and even though it’s early my legs are wobbly from the hills which makes it tough. The runners spread out and I’m quickly by myself until about mile 6 where Roger, another vet, catches up with me. We chat (amongst other things, he tells me that this race is one of the hardest 50Ks in the nation- I didn’t know that when I signed up!) and run for about two miles until the hill at mile 8. This hill sucks.



I know why it’s one of the hardest 50Ks in the nation. I’ve run four marathons in 2 months- I’m in good shape. Although I’m walking it, I need to stop several times on this hill- I can’t catch my breath, my heart is beating out of my chest, my legs are burning and I’m dizzy. It’s frigg’n mile 8. It thankfully gets easier from here.



I run on until the first aid station at mile 11. I love ultramarathon aid stations. All volunteers at all races are wonderful, but at an ultra you can actually stop to thank people. And should I have thanked them- bless their hearts they took my sweaty, muddy Camelback and filled it for me because I was too dizzy. I eat gummy bears like my life depends on it, find out that one aid station volunteer is a faculty member at CMU who is about to run a hundred-miler, and then head on my way. I run a mile or so when Art catches up to me. Art is my race angel. Art has run 291 ultra marathons and 2xx marathons. He’s logged about 64,000 race miles and once ran the entire Laurel Highlands trail out and back (140 miles!) just for fun. Art is in his early 70s and is walking about as fast as I can run. I stick with him and gasp and wheeze (my asthma was poorly controlled in this race) while he trucks along and tells me stories of his adventures (“I got to 500 marathons/ultramarathons and then really got crazy”). He makes this look so easy and I’d hate him if he wasn’t keeping me going at a faster pace than I’d manage on my own. I lose him at another steep hill at mile 18 and only catch him as he’s leaving the mile 19 aid station. Mile 19 volunteers are runners from St. Vincent college. At this point I grab what looks like Gatorade and is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. I recently tried miracle fruit, and this drink tasted like something that was enhanced. What was this wonderful elixir, sent from the ultramarathoning Gods? Mountain Dew. Mountain Dew?!?! I hate soda. I certainly hate Mountain Dew. I just go with it, because it’s that kind of day.

I’ve lost my buddies and I’m on my own. It’s mile 19 and I’m tired. I start thinking about several things:

1. My MCM friend and trail ultra runner extraordinaire gave me a mantra. I can only remember 2/3 of it: forward motion. Perpetuate forward motion? Perpetual forward motion? Purposeful forward motion? I spend a long time thinking of appropriate phrases about forward motion.
2. My other MCM and ultra runner friend, Jimmy, is a Marine and in Vermont he serenaded some ladies in skirts with cadence. I made variations of Jimmy’s cadence that shouldn’t be posted here.
3. I counted. This sounds simple and silly but it was my lifesaver. From mile 19 until mile 31 I counted each step from 1 to 4 over and over and over again. When the terrain was passable it helped me keep moving forward at a solid pace. When the terrain was challenging all I had to do was take four steps at a time. 1, 2, 3, 4. Perpetual forward motion.

At mile 28ish I swear I’m hallucinating. I hear someone cheering for me. In the middle of nowhere. I think I hear them say “do you need water?” I look around and can’t see anyone. Maybe a tenth of a mile later I come down the trail to find a sweet couple standing there. I’m delirious and don’t want to stop moving, but I am so happy I’m not losing my mind. No more than a half a mile later a man I passed at mile 19.5 comes up behind me. Where did he come from?! We shuffle along together (I find out the sweet couple were his parents) until we reach mile 29 and climb yet another frigg’n hill. Give me a break! So. Over. Hills. And rocks. I’ve rolled my left ankle a dozen times and I’ve kicked so many rocks with my left big toe that at one point I actually thought I might have broken it. As Matt (aka Mr. Second Wind) runs ahead I become confused and think that we just hit mile 28, not mile 29. I become demoralized, realizing that I had further to go than I thought. Stupid glycogen depletion. I stay demoralized until I hit mile 30 and realize I only have a mile left to go! One mile! And I have an hour and 20 minutes! I get a little choked up, realizing that I am about to finish my first ultra- a hard one at that- but refuse to cry. Ultramarathoners don’t cry! So I pick it up and run as much as my ankle and toe allow, finishing in 8:47 (almost exactly twice as long as my marathon PR- a formula that held for other runners I knew).

When I ran Antarctica I learned that I could push my body and mind further than I realized. I’ve worked to continue to push myself- PRing in marathons and running an ultra. Everyone always wonders what’s next. I don’t know. If you would have told me in 2007 that I would have run 6 marathons and an ultra, I would have told you that you were crazy. If you would have told me six months ago that I would love road biking and want to do a tri this summer, I would have told you that you were crazy. Right now I’d think you were crazy if you told me I was going to run a 50 miler or try an Ironman… but at this rate you wouldn’t be the crazy one. Here’s to whatever crazy adventure the future might hold.

Pre-Race

Like Shamrock, I have no goals for the Pittsburgh marathon other than to have fun. I skipped my 20 miler between Shamrock and Pittsburgh and I don't know what effect two marathons in the previous two months will have on my performance. After PRing at pancake flat Shamrock, I don't have high expectations for a fast time at hilly Pittsburgh.

I wake up at 5 am and Shell, Ike and I eat breakfast and get ready. We meet up with some friends at Craig's hotel and there is lots of nervous and excited energy. Shell and I line up towards the back of the 10:00 min/mile pace group. I run into my Girl's on the Run co-coach, Laura, and her roommate, Shannon and after a few minutes of nervous chatter, we're off and running!

The Race

We take off through the Strip District and my favorite spectator is a Scottish bagpiper. I'm bopping along, running a very comfortable 10 min pace when I see Megan, another Girls on the Run coach, who is running the half with her husband Nathan (who mentioned he's read this blog: Hi Nathan!). We chat for a few minutes but we subsequently part ways. Shortly after at mile 4 as we cross the bridge to the North Shore, I hear someone cheer for me, then cheer for Shell. I look to see Shell fly past in the beginning of leap-frogging that will go on for the next 10 miles. I catch Shell around mile 5 and we begin to run together. I see a man who looks familiar and after a moment I realize it is Luke Ravenstahl. I point to him, telling Shell "That's our mayor!" and he looks at me and cheers for me by name. Cool.

I've been battling my bladder for around 7 miles when I see an overpass that serves as my first pit stop. I lose Shell as she runs ahead, but I catch her around mile 8 and we run onto the South Side hooping, hollering and cheering for anyone and everyone. I lose her at the mile 9 water stop as it begins to rain. Usually I hate rain, but for some reason, I'm not too bothered. The course support dwindles but I continue to keep thanking spectators and volunteers. Leaving the South Side at mile 12 I head up the hill on Forbes towards Oakland. I was planning to walk the hill if needed, but I felt really strong for mile 12 so I ran it, excited to be in Oakland where I work and go to school. I'm particularly excited to see my office where I make pit stop #2; just one of many benefits to being on my home turf.

As I go back on the course I catch up to Shell around mile 13.5. I lose her for the last time just after the water stop after mile 14, but not before I tell her some of Mister Rogers' Pittsburgh history (i.e. he was a pianist and all the piano music in the show was music that he played; Mr. McFeely is currently faculty at Duquesne). Mile 14.5 I see volunteers from Shadyside Presbyterian Church, where Megan (see above) is a member. I know through Megan's blog that they put a lot of thought into supporting the marathoners so I make an extra effort to thank them. As I come upon the relay exchange point I see two friendly faces: Steph and Jen! I excitedly do a crazy arm-swinging windmill run across the course for high-fives and then head onto Walnut Street. I see my friend Rich, an incredibly accomplished runner. I realize I want to hug him but also realize I can't stop, so I run into him full speed with my arms out, embracing at impact. I later found out he wasn't running because of cracked ribs! Ah! I'm so sorry!! He runs a few paces with me and passes me a bottle of Powerbar electrolyte drink and I happily take it and run ahead. Not more than a quarter of a mile later I see my friend Aimee and her husband Patrick (more crazy windmill arm-swinging excited running) and Aimee runs with me for a brief bit. I'm on a total high from seeing so many friends when I see another- Laura's roommate Ryan! This is the best mile ever!

Around mile 16 I realize that I am feeling exponentially stronger than I ever have during a marathon. I'm still keeping my pace between 9:50 and 10:10ish and I don't feel the need to slow down. We run through Homewood and I see old women in housecoats on their porches staying out of the drizzle. I wave at them and they're so happy to be acknowledged. As we turn into Highland Park I am happy to be back in familiar territory. I didn't realize all the people I would see here. I see a faculty member who I wave at then no more than a few houses down I see another faculty member and a first year grad student who so sweetly cheer me on. The spectators here are fantastic and as I run by a coffee shop men start chanting my name- "Kat! Kat! Kat!" I feel like a rock star! As I continue to run I see another graduate student friend and I'm so thrilled by my good fortune that I forget to look for my running partner Jen, her husband Robert and their daughter Abby. She saw me and yelled, but I had my iPod on by this point, so I unfortunately didn't hear her. One man actually turned to me to comment on my popularity! I felt so supported on this course!

Coming out of Highland Park I'm still not slowing down. In fact, I feel really strong and I know there's a big downhill ahead. As I start to pick up the pace a bit I see one of the girls I coach and I freak out, I am so excited to see her! Running through Bloomfield is a huge party. There are bands and tons of loud and awesome spectators. There are also lots of officers out in support of the three police officers who were killed in early April. There's no way I'm slowing down in Bloomfield. Returning to the Strip, Jen flies by me as part of the relay and I try not to get demoralized by all the relay runners who are so much fresher than me. My pace has picked up to the mid-9s and I wonder if a PR is a possibility (I'm unsure because my watch auto paused during my pit stops). I dig deep and hammer out the last miles in 9:19, 9:26 and 8:54 pace. The last 0.1 I see Steph and Jen again as well as Ike. Having friends cheer for you at the end is the best way to end a marathon. I fly through the chute and I feel great even though I think I missed a PR. If nothing else, I just completed my first marathon where I didn't need to stop to walk. At the family link up area I run into Lisa, a third Girls on the Run Coach, and am thrilled to catch up with her and to hear she came in sub-4. I hung out with Ike, Shell and Len to cheer in the last runner and it was such a gift to be able to pay the cheering karma forward, especially since I would later find out that the last runner was running for Elora.

Post-Race

It was a great day with lots of support and solid running and the icing on the cake was that I PRed (as did Shell and Ike)! My chip time was 4:28:01, even with two pit stops. It was the most fun I've ever had and it was the easiest marathon I've ever run. Coming up next: Vermont City marathon on May 24th.

Dear running,

I love you. You keep me healthy and strong. I eat better and am more balanced when I am with you. Together we have traveled the world and I am a better person for knowing you. Over the last few years together you have shown me that I am capable of more than I ever dreamed was possible. But running, there is something I must confess:

This weekend I cheated on you.

"With who?!" you ask frantically.

With biking.

I thought it would be a one-time thing. I really did. I went to the bike store yesterday to buy a hybrid after realizing that "it's like riding a bike" doesn't apply when you're me trying to ride a road bike. The road bike, oh man was she beautiful, was too much for me to handle. The hybrid, while less sexy, fit me well and I felt comfortable with it. Kind of like spooning. After riding the hybrid around the block a few times, I became more confident with my riding skills. Maybe I could handle the sexy, agile road bike? I took her for a spin, and while I was a little insecure about whether I could command her beauty and grace, I knew I had to have her. I left the bike store with a sturdy, reliable, comfortable hybrid and a sleek and sexy road bike. What more does a woman need?

My new road bike, but mine is in white.

Today I thought I'd take my hybrid for a spin to check out the gears, brakes and handling. It was a beautiful day at the park and once I got settled knew that this wasn't just a fling.The guys at the bike store said I'd get hooked, and quickly. While cruising I already started planning my next fix. How could I fit biking into my busy schedule this week? Where could I find a group to ride with? The realization hit me: Oh my god, I can do a triathlon now.

My gorgeous hybrid. She started it all...

Running, you've been good to me. I still love you and always will. But I hope that you can make room for my new loves. Please understand that I am just a young, confused athlete who wants it all... running, biking, swimming. It's not that you're not good enough, it's just that I want too much.

Don't worry, I'm not leavining you. In fact, I'll see you tomorrow for 20.

Kat

In a very last minute decision I decided to run the Shamrock marathon. I needed to get out of Pittsburgh and Isaac, Michelle and Mike made the stars align. I’ve never run two marathons twelve days apart so I didn’t have any goals. The course was flat and the weather was supposed to be perfect; I just wanted to have fun.

Pre-Race

I split from Shell, Ike and Rob who are running the half. I hang out in the lobby of Craig’s hotel so that he can get some extra sleep and I watch the sun rise over the water while making friends with the runners. I head up to Craig’s room about a half hour before start to see that Mike and Irene have just arrived. Craig offers me a pair of throwaway gloves and a throwaway hat which I am enormously thankful for since the beach start is going to be colder than the Antarctica start.


Craig and I before the start.

Race

The gun went off so quickly my Garmin didn’t have time to find the satellites. It can’t take more than a minute to cross the start and the crowd is thankfully thin. In the first half mile I meet Scott, a Marine from Maryland who I run with for the first 10 miles. In contrast to MCM there are very few spectators and the hotels aren’t very inspiring. Through mile 5 there isn’t anything too interesting until the lead runners start to pass us after their turn-around. I see Mike, a fellow Antarctica runner (he finished fourth overall) and scream and cheer for him like a madwoman. Shortly after, I see Jerry and Craig and exchange high fives. I’m keeping up a pretty solid 9:45 pace and I keep feeling like I should reign myself in. We turn into Camp Pendelton and there is no way I can reign myself in. The soldiers are out in force, and there were times when I high-fived so many soldiers that it actually slowed me down. They are cheering and chanting and it was my favorite part of the course. There was so much energy it was just incredible.

We head towards the boardwalk and Scott runs ahead as I slow down. It’s only mile 10 and I’m discouraged that my pace is already starting to lag. The loss of my marathon buddy, the absence of spectators and doubt about running 2 marathons in 12 days begins to creep in. Ok, it doesn’t creep, it smacks me in the face. I’m considering pulling out of the race at the half, but at mile 12 I see Mike and Irene and they look so happy that I just can’t quit. I tell myself I’ll run to mile 15 when I can stop to take my inhaler (I’m starting to wheeze a bit) and eat a bit of a granola bar.

At this point the winners are finishing the final miles and it is inspiring to see such athleticism. There are a few more spectators and it is starting to warm up to be a spectacular day. As I walk, I try to eat my granola bar, but can’t stomach it. Every pea-sized nibble is a fight to keep down. I’m a bit demoralized but I cheer for the halfathon walkers, the marathon leaders, thank the volunteers, and encourage the spectators. As we head into Fort Story I am cranky and bored. Around mile 17 I (gasp) begin to listen to my iPod. I am very anti-iPod for races because I feel like it detracts from the experience. However, the way things are going, I’m willing to make a concession. The iPod is incredible in that I start running more than walking and by mile 20 I have a second wind. Around this time I realize that the 4:30 pace group hasn’t yet passed me. In my first marathon, I lost the 4:30 pace group at mile 20 and in my second marathon, the 4:30 pace group passed me at mile 20. I can hear them behind me but have a new goal of holding them off until mile 21. Mission accomplished.

I feel strong. It feels odd to feel so strong. Around mile 23 we rejoin spectators and volunteers. I’m cracking jokes with everyone while my pace drops into times that start with 9 again. I’m having a blast and loving life. Around mile 24 I pass a man who asks if I was the one “rallying the troops back there” I slowed a bit to chat with him, responding “I was trying to, at least!” and he encouraged me to go forward, telling me to “Go kick @ss, girl.” I follow directions well. I keep second-guessing myself. I feel great, but it’s mile 24 of the marathon. Surely this can’t hold up? Let’s try. Mile 25 and 26 have a 9:45 average and as I run down the home stretch I realize I’ve PRed. The icing on the cake is seeing Mike, Irene and Craig and then seeing Ike, Shell and Rob. I scream that I PRed to my friends who have waited for me to finish and race through the chute for a final pace of 9:00. My time was 4:31:07, a PR by over 11 minutes.


Me coming into the finish after shouting to my friends that I had PRed

It is with great nervousness and excitement that I begin the last blog post before I run the Antarctica Marathon. My bags are packed, my cat is in his temporary new home, and my friends have given me hugs and wished me well. Although I haven't left, I feel as though I've already been on an adventure.

Training for this marathon has been a trial in and of itself. Pittsburgh winters are nasty and running in cold, snow, ice and wind didn't kill me so it must have made me stronger. Although I hated almost every long run training for this marathon, I am so thankful I live in Pittsburgh so that I have the peace of mind that I can deal with nasty conditions. Also, this winter I was diagnosed with exercise-induced asthma. If I didn't live in Pittsburgh I may not have had conditions extreme enough to exacerbate my symptoms and I could be on my way to Antarctica with an unmanaged and potentially dangerous condition. Although at times unpleasant, training in Pittsburgh during the winter was something that I expected when I registered for the marathon.

The crazy thing that was completely unexpected was the experiences I've shared with people about my adventure. The cool thing about the Antarctica Marathon is that people love to talk about it and ask questions. It is such a great opportunity to share with people and speak with them. I've made so many wonderful connections with people that I'm not sure I could have made without a "talking point".

My favorite thing thus far has been fundraising for the Injured Marine Semper Fi Fund. Yesterday I met my goal of raising $2,500 (another $500 that should come through in March which will put me at $3,000) and I am so thankful for all of the people who have so generously donated to the Fund. Seeing such an outpouring of generosity has truly been humbling and inspiring. My goal was to help others and in that process I have learned so much about the goodness of others while becoming more generous myself. After this experience I strongly believe that everyone should fundraise at some point in their lives.

One woman, Linda Quirk, has taken fundraising to an incredible extreme. Another Antarctica runner, this grandmother of three has a goal of raising $1 million for the Caron Foundation. There are so many wonderful charities and while the Caron Foundation is not a charity, it is an organization that is near to my heart. I have chosen to make adolescent substance use my career because when he was a teen, my brother had difficulties with substance use and went to Caron for treatment. I got in touch with Linda this morning and I am so excited to meet her in Buenos Aires to learn more about her extraordinary adventure and her efforts.

Heading south tomorrow, I am so excited about the people that I am going to meet- Linda included. I've met really incredible people through running, including Elora's dad, Dan. If you read my blog, you may remember a post about Elora Palooza, a 5K celebrating the life of a little girl who made a big impression on the people she met during her short time here. Today Dan joined Jen and I for a run. At the end of the run, Dan asked me for a favor. He reached down and unpinned a picture that was fastened to his Team in Training singlet. It was a picture of his daughter Elora, who lost her battle with cancer, and his sister Sarah, who is still fighting hers. He asked me to take them to Antarctica. I was really moved, and, like the big sap I am, started to cry. I am so incredibly honored that Dan would ask me to run with them. Between my Semper Fi singlet, Elora and Sarah, I'm going to have a lot of sources to channel strength during what will be a very tough marathon.

So, as I get ready to leave, I'm already floored by the experiences that I have had. I can't wait for this trip which will surely be an adventure. I hope that when I come back, I can change the name of this blog: Kat Ran Antarctica. Wish me luck.

It's a big media week! Today I was on the front page of the Pitt News.... check out the story here. I've already been in contact with a graduate student who wanted to donate to the Fund. This has been such a great opportunity to connect with people!

Today with a 20 mile run, Chris and I are officially tapering for Antarctica. This is pretty remarkable considering I started training almost a year ago and have run about 1,200 miles in the process. I still feel under-prepared, but I have realized there is likely little I could do to feel confident about this "race." I know I'll need to take it slow and enjoy the experience for what it is worth.

As part of our taper run today, Chris and I met another runner who also is going to Antarctica in two weeks (omg, do I really leave in two weeks?!). We've seen him running all winter and just happened to stop and chat today. What are the chances that of a hundred or so runners, one lives in Pittsburgh, and we were running in the same place on the same day and happened to stop and talk? He seemed really nice (runners are), and I'm really excited to meet great people on this trip.

In order to prepare, final planning is underway. We have received our official race gear... my jacket is hanging in my closet, ready for when it will possibly be too warm to wear it when I return We also received some final planning information. Apparently both Jenny Hadfield and John Bingham will be on my ship. That is just insane. Also, with the help of my professional photographer friend, Jaime (aka the Blond Photographer), this morning I finally bought a digital SLR. I have been drooling over one for quite a while and with recent media interviews about the race (I'll post them as they are published if they're not too embarrassing), it was too hard to watch people use incredible cameras and know that I didn't have a camera adequate to capture the beauty that will be Antarctica. I am SO excited because I have always said if I could do anything I would travel the world as a photographer.

There are still many details that need to be figured out in the next two weeks. I'm currently second guessing the gear that has served me well all winter and I have no idea how I am going to pack for three week of temperatures ranging from 0-35 F (Antarctica) to 70-90F (Buenos Aires). But, if I'm going to run a marathon in Antarctica and that's all I'm worrying about, then I'm okay with that!