Blog Posts From Kat Ran Antarctica Tagged With ultra_marathon

RR: JFK50

DCtoPgh — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 22:51:16 GMT

This weekend I toed the line at the JFK50, one of the most prestigious and historical 50 mile races in the nation; if I finished it, it would be my first 50 miler. The race occurs between my current town of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and my hometown of Potomac, Maryland and was originally designed by President Kennedy as a test of physical fitness for his military officers.

Pre Race

The days leading up to the race were awesome. My work load was low, I ate carbs like it was my job and received so much outreach and words of encouragement from my friends. One of my most supportive friends was my best friend and neighbor, Ben, who was kind enough to crew for me. Ben and I got a late start hitting the road, and had a great drive with the exception of when the GPS said “turn left in 49 miles.” I seriously almost threw up knowing we were almost an hour from our destination and I was planning to run that far in roughly 12 hours. I am proof that smart people do dumb things.

Lucas, another runner from Pittsburgh who was also running JFK, was kind enough to get my packet for me since we were late. Because he and his dad, Lou (you may remember them from Annie’s Run), are staying at the same hotel as me and Ben we all got together to swap packets, electrolyte pills and talk about the game plan for the next day before going to bed.

My bib.I'm really doing this.

Race Day

Me and Lucas before heading to the start

Lou and Lucas follow me and Ben to the start where there is a prerace meeting. The prerace meeting didn’t end in time to give most runners enough time to get to the start and I had only just said goodbye to Ben and Lou (Lucas had split off earlier) as the gun went off. We begin to run and on the sideline I see someone I recognize but can’t place. He yells my name and I immediately realize it’s my friend Ron, who I know through the Marine Corps marathon. It is so nice to see a friendly and unexpected face.

Ron caught this picture of me at the start.I'm the only one turned around

During the pre-race meeting they said something about “When you go up the mountain, stay to the right.” Did he just say “When you go up the mountain?” Seriously, why do I do this to myself? Before we get to the mountain, I see Ray, the marathoner who carried the American flag during the MCM on the sidelines waving our flag. It makes me proud and I thank him.

You guys remember Ray from MCM

The Mountain and the AT

The first three miles are effectively climbs that are unrunnable for people in my part of the pack if they want to save their legs. It’s a little frustrating to be walking the first part of the race, but I know I need to play it smart and I befriended some really nice people while we hike the hills.

A short, steep hill. Most were pretty long

We get onto the Appalachian Trail (AT) and I quickly tuck behind two girls who have the same speed and technical skill as I do on the trails. Their chatter keeps me entertained and I’m so glad I found them. Unfortunately, I lose them at the mile 9 aid station.

Getting back on the trail after the aid station

As I moved forward on the second section of the AT I got behind Jim and Dave who were not only fantastically interesting, but were incredible athletes. Dave had finished 10 JFKs and Jim was an Ironman; they worked together for years, and didn’t realize they were both running until they saw each other at the pasta dinner on Friday night. They talked about flying planes (something on my bucket list) and were going at roughly my pace so I stuck with them until mile 15.5 where we make the transition from the AT to the towpath. The AT was definitely my favorite part of the race.

Jim and Dave going down the switchbaks on the tail end of the AT. Still not as technical as Laurel.

At mile 15.5 I met up with Ben and Lou to switch from trail shoes to road shoes. What I’m not sure I’ve made clear is that Ben is brilliant. An Ivy League grad, an M.D./Ph.D. candidate, if I had to trust my life to anyone’s brain, it would be Ben’s. Knowing Ben’s brilliance, I shouldn’t have been surprised that after I explained to Ben that I’d need to switch my shoes and my chip that he would be ready for me. He had me sit in a chair, clipped my chip from one shoe and put it on the other while I changed my socks, and then, while I was putting on my shoes, he put my long-sleeve shirt on the exterior of my pack with an arm sleeve sticking out in case I wanted to reach it to pull it out later without taking off my pack. His efficiency was artful. If I would have trained Ben on how to be the best support person EVER, I couldn’t have trained him that well. He was totally the MVS (most valuable spectator). With some quick hugs for Ben and Lou, I head onto the C&O towpath part of the course, where we will run for 26.3 miles.

The Towpath

View from the towpath

I hate the towpath. People spread out so I don’t have entertainment. The path is pretty but boring. There are tons of decaying leaves and tiny pebbles which makes gaiters much more necessary here than on the AT. My legs feel good and I run for a few miles, not focusing on how far I’ve run and still have to go, but instead focusing on getting to the next aid station. Every JFK vet I’ve spoken with has told me they use a run/walk on the towpath so if for no reason other than boredom I start doing a 5:1 run:walk. Some vets run by, tell me I look great and that I have the right approach, but I’m so bored. As I come into the mile 27 aid station, I have no idea what happened, but I fell apart. Out of nowhere I felt like I wanted to cry. Again, out of nowhere, and even while keeping a good clip, I felt like I was never going to finish the race. It was so overwhelming and I walked a little to regain my composure. I kept moving forward, losing my mind because a terrible pop song was stuck in my head. It’s as though my brain, in retaliation for making it work so hard all the time, was punishing me.

As a therapist, seeing all the runners who were willing to run JFK made me confident I'll always have clients- you've gotta be crazy to run 50 miles!

At the mile 30 aid station I was bummed to see the next aid station was 4.4 miles. Not far, but I was at the point where it was getting tough to keep my head in the game. At some point I took my inhaler, which made things better, and with roughly a mile left to go (my Garmin was off by about a half mile at this point) I found a desperately need porta potty. Once I step out of the porta potty, the scene on the trail had changed entirely: instead of people running slowly or walking, people looked like they were being chased. I hadn’t seen people run that fast all day. I was totally confused but started running with them. In a stroke of brilliance that would literally save my race, Toby had suggested that I make a pace chart with goal paces and cutoffs, laminate it and keep it with me.

The pace chart.

I pulled out my pace chart and realized I had roughly one mile to cover in 12 minutes to make the next cutoff. I don’t know how I missed that there was a cutoff so close. I had been running roughly 12 minute miles but I’m not sure how far off my watch is from the race clock (I knew it was roughly a minute, but I was going to be down to seconds, here). As I run as hard as I can, I start getting so angry with myself. It was such a stupid mistake to not be thinking about the next cutoff- I had been thinking forward to 6 pm. I had been checking my pace on my Garmin, but the extra half mile had messed up my overall pace. I start thinking about all my long, hard training, all that I had sacrificed for this race, all the people who I knew were rooting for me back home. I thought of Ben coming all the way from Pittsburgh to crew for me and I knew that he would be heartbroken if I didn’t finish if only because he loves me so much and I’d be heartbroken. At this point, I’m convinced I’m going to DNF. As I came up to the aid station I see an official with a watch and I hear him yell 2:59. I had less than 60 seconds. I am terrified to run by him for fear he’s going to pull me, but as I run by he lets me keep going. I made the cutoff by seconds. I was one of the last people to cross, if not the last person; I didn’t stop to check.

I feel like I’m against a wall being against the clock: every hour until the finish there is a cutoff. I don’t know how long I can keep up the paces I need to. I hate the feeling of needing to make up time and crawling out of a hole. A small group of MoCo Road Runners is ahead of me, and I can’t remember for the life of me if the girl turned around to speak to me or someone else, but she said, “Now is not the time to run scared.” I know she’s right, but I am scared. I’m terrified. I have so much on the line, so little left and so far to go. I think to myself, “Just make it to the next aid station.” I did, banking 10 minutes. I take a seat to clear out all the debris from the C&O canal that had collected in my shoes and got back on the road. Mentally I’m feeling much more in the game knowing I have 70 minutes to run the 3.3 miles to make the next cutoff. I make the next cutoff and bank more time still. I walk out of the aid station and right as I’m about to pick it up, a guy starts running next to me like he’s out for a stroll. “Don’t make it look so easy!” I banter with him. We run together for a little bit before I realize he’s the guy from the Baltimore marathon with the Steelers jersey! What a small world! I really enjoy Breck’s company; he’s running about my pace and keeping my mind off the fact that I’ve run 40 some miles and still have 10 to go.

You remember Breck from the Baltimore Marathon

The Rolling Road to the Finish

After what really was an eternity on the towpath (~5 1/2 hours) we finally get on the rolling country roads for the final 8 miles.

The last mile marker on the towpath

I have a headlamp and Breck forgot his flashlight. I tell him to run ahead if I’m slowing him down, but he stays with me and I am thrilled. If the only reason Breck stayed with me is for my headlamp, then that was the best $50 I’ve ever spent. We walk the up hills, run the down hills and run where we can in between. The mile markers seem to be so long, but they count down. We stop by aid stations that have warm soup, which is just incredible, but don’t waste too much time. I’m perpetually checking my watch, still terrified of the cutoffs, even though we could walk 20 minute/miles and still finish.

At the second to last aid station I see two spectators who I have seen at every aid station and have cheered for me and lied to me (they told me I looked great so I knew it was BS ). I took a moment to thank them both and one of them says, “Congratulations.” I almost begin to sob but with four miles left it’s much too early for that. Breck is doing the math and he thinks we can come in under 11:30. At this point, I just want to finish, but if he wants a sub 11:30 I’ll do all I can as his running buddy to help him do it.

At the last aid station. Odd, no?

One mile left.

We run the last mile and a half, passing dozens of people, and for the last half mile the volunteers start saying “Congratulations.” I’m hugely choked up and as I start to see the lights and hear the crowd cheer, the clock comes into focus: 11:28. We can finish sub-11:30. I hear Ben call my name from the side and his voice and smile are the last push I need to get through the chute.

I cross the finish line and sob. Breck and I finish in 11:29:16 and 11:29:17.

The worst picture of me ever taken after such an epic day. I'm sun and/or windburned, my eyes are bloodshot, I'm sweaty and I'm crying. But it captures me and Breck after 50 miles.

11 ½ hours of running, almost DNFing, making friends, losing faith and then remembering to believe in myself. Volunteers are smiling and patting me on the back and I see Ben, who I embrace in an all out hug while sobbing on his shoulder. He whispers in my ear, “You did it,” which only makes me sob harder. When I sent Rick Freeman my Laurel Highlands Race Report, he told me that ultra runners are allowed to cry- in fact, they’ve been known to do much worse. You know that I’m the type to go all out, so I don’t just cry, I full out ugly cry for a little bit and try to process the enormity of the day.

Me and Ben at the finish. Finally done crying. And running.

Post-Race

Lucas had an incredible race. At his 50 mile debut, he came in under 7 hours, in the top 25 of a very competitive field and within a half hour of Scott Jurek. I am amazed and inspired by his athleticism.

I came within 5 hours of Scott Jurek I’m not fast, but I’m still pretty amazed by my athleticism. During the training for this event, I ran 670 miles, 2 official ultras (and one self-supported 50K) and three marathons. I was hit by a car and found out that my heart doesn’t always beat right. But more important than mileage, races and possible setbacks is that I realized I am strong, tough and I am a legitimate athlete. My pro runner buddy Rich once told me I was going to surprise a lot of people in the next few years. I told him the only people I would surprise were the ones who underestimated me, myself included. This year has been a trial by fire but I think with this race I finally understand my physical and mental potential and am excited to fully express that potential.

A very big thank you to all who have supported me on this crazy journey and those who will continue to support me on whatever crazy journey is up next.

There’s a new resident of Taperville

DCtoPgh — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 05:08:59 GMT

It’s official: I’m tapering for JFK. I’ve been training for 4 months and have run three marathons, two ultras, and roughly 650 miles to prepare for this event. I’ve been hit by a car and been diagnosed with a heart arrhythmia. I’ve met a lot of cool people and even got my first sponsorship (thanks, Sugoi!). This has been one heck of a training cycle and it peaked with an awesome weekend of lots of running and friends.

Friday

I started Friday with a quick 5 mile run commute where I rocked a meeting and entertained questions about ultrarunning posed by my social development professor who seems so curious about my sport. That night I carbed up with the most ridiculous penne with shrimp, arugula, and sundried tomato dish. Make it, it’s so good!!

Beautiful trees on Fifth Avenue on the way into Oakland

Saturday

I was up at 5 to meet my friend Rich at 6:30 for a 30 mile training run. Yes, I realize how crazy “30 mile training run” sounds. I’ve known Rich since before I was a runner (yes, that Kat existed not too long ago) and he must be one of my biggest cheerleaders. He’s also a professional endurance athlete with major sponsorships who has gone after world records and just a few weeks ago finished in the top 10 at the US 50 mile National Championships. I did my very best to make it very clear to Rich that I just needed to get 30 on the books and I didn’t care about speed- in fact, I wanted to intentionally go out slow. I was worried that Rich wouldn’t be able to run as slowly as I needed to run, but he stuck with me the whole way, even through the wind that stole our words and the torrential rain that filled our shoes. We caught up on mutual friends and recent races, all the while keeping our first 5 five mile loops within 45 seconds of each other. He kept commenting on what great shape I was in (based on the consistency of our splits), how much potential he saw on me, and his belief that next year I’m going to qualify for Boston. I’m not sure I believe Rich, but I sure like him! We were entertained by a costume 5K with costumes that included: a porta potty, the Pittsburgh pierogies, and three blind mice. We also spotted and befriend Eric, another runner in training for JFK who was IDed as an ultrarunner when we saw him running while eating a piece of pizza. At the end of the day we stretched our 30 miles to a 50K and for the first time in the last four months I realized that I might be able to do JFK. Having those glimmers of hope and confidence were welcomed but overwhelming.

Check out the incredible sunrise. This was the only time we saw the sun all morning. Shortly after I took this, the clouds rolled in, the temperatures dropped and the rain fell.

Sunday

I slept in on Sunday. Rich had organized a trail run with some Pittsburgh ultrarunners at Ohiopyle, a state park an hour and a half away. Even with an extra hour thanks to daylight savings time, I needed every single hour on Sunday. In place of Ohiopyle, I ran 10 miles of trails around Frick Park which was just idyllic. It was serene and I felt cloaked in the vibrant yellow leaves. I was so moved that at one point I just stopped to absorb all the beauty around me. The air was crisp, the leaves were crunchy and the sun beams found holes in the canopy to reach down and kiss me. There was never a better day for a run.

Homewood Cemetery across from Frick. You can tell what a beautiful day was from the bright sunshine and clear blue sky.

Total for the weekend: 45.75 miles. That’s a lot of running, but the miles were wonderful and I recovered well enough to wear heels on Sunday. As anyone who reads this blog knows, I value balance and people, so I can assure you that this weekend was not only about running. On Saturday night I was able to partake in Halloween festivities, on Sunday I finished my run in time to enjoy some amazing pumpkin pancakes at a brunch hosted by a friend and I spent Sunday afternoon drinking beer and eating chili with the Pittsburgh Triathlon Club.

I’m really surprised that all the hard work is behind me. It didn’t seem like work because I was so busy making it fun. I just hope that I can have as much fun at JFK as I did while training for it. Stay tuned: three weeks until my JFK race report!

Youngstown Ultra Trail Classic 50K

DCtoPgh — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 00:15:30 GMT

I signed up for the Youngstown Ultra Trail Classic 50K as part of my training for JFK. It’s crazy to think that three months ago I wasn’t sure if I could run a 50K and now they’re training runs. Just two years ago I wasn’t sure I could run my first marathon and this was my 10th endurance running event. I didn’t have any time goals for this race, not knowing how technical it would be. I also didn’t taper at all, but I thought if I could come in under 8 hours then it would be a 47 minute improvement over Laurel Highlands and that could count as a good day.

I was up at 4 am to drive to Youngstown, Ohio, for the start of the race in Mill Creek State Park. The stars were out and I was able to watch the sun rise over the rolling countryside. Surely, this would be a beautiful day. The start was cold and as I went down the trail from the parking lot to the start, I hear my name and see Rick Freeman calling me over. Rick is the Laurel Highlands Ultra RD and he has run the Iditarod “Fun Run” (350 miles for anyone who is curious) a few times. He’s well-known in local running circles and his huge grin paired with the button down shirt he’s going to run in put a smile on my face. I still think it’s crazy that people like Rick know my name (and call me over), Ray Zahab wants me to be involved with impossible2Possible (expect an update on that soon, too- we have a call on Tuesday), Runners World contacted me for an interview, and Josh Cox is a fan of my Antarctica facebook page. I don’t get it.

Steam rising off of Lake Glacier at the start.

I make a half dozen other friends at the start and again I am convinced that ultrarunners are a great breed of people. We have a pre-race “meeting” (watch when crossing the street, don’t litter) and the race begins with the RD yelling “START!”

Runners listen to the RD at the Old Log Cabin

We take off down a paved road and turn up to a steep steel staircase, across a park area with tennis courts, football fields and the like and then the fun begins. The trails on this course are moderately technical single track but there are some flat stretches where you can pick up some decent speed. There are also technical climbs that stop mortal runners (i.e. me) dead in their tracks. Descents so sharp that my knees hurt (I’m 26, my knees don’t hurt yet).

Runners run down the second part of one of the first steep hills. Photo courtesy of Joel Button.

See all those trees? That's the trail. Go to the bottom.

There were inclines so steep that my legs sometimes slip back while I climb.

Up, up, and away

Taking a breather two thirds up a hill. At the top is the "love log." One runner told me that when getting over the log: On the first pass, you get creative, on the second pass, you sit, on the third pass, you sit and contemplate life. He said this on the second pass after I sat to get over it. He bounded over it. I think he clicked his heels.

Falls on this course are frequent. I don’t know if I saw anyone who wasn’t bloodied from a fall and I witnessed some brutal wrecks. One man was going down a steep incline and all I saw through the woods was a white shirt launch forward about 5 feet and then drop about 10. I can’t believe he came back from it. A 73 year old runner (inspiration!) had duct-taped his wounds! I’m also in awe that I only fell once- and I bounced back quickly enough that the runner behind me commented: “Nice save!” No blood was spilled

The course was a figure-eight broken into 1 large top loop (7.5 miles) and 1 small bottom loop (4 miles) which allowed for aid every four miles (at the top and middle of the “8”). Course volunteers are always great, but I thought the course support was particularly enthusiastic, supportive and helpful. Both loops ran along lakes and had pretty dams with peaceful flowing water.

Pretty dam we ran by several times.

Lanterman's Mill

The weather was 70 degrees with bright sunshine and there couldn’t be a more perfect day to run. I don’t know how to describe it, but I felt in sync. I have this image of this runner floating through trails effortlessly- Lucas did this beautifully in Annie's Run. The lone runner who runs in perfect form through a serene setting and could be easily picked up and placed onto the pages of a running magazine. I felt seamless- like I was running strong and tall and I was meant to be running on this day. Around mile 29 a veteran of 90 ultramarathons commented on how consistently I was running.

I spent most of the race chatting with fellow runners, but I also enjoyed the quiet points where I was alone in the woods. Locals who I ran into were very kind and encouraging- including an older couple who watched me catch my toe on a rock and both reached out to catch me, although I’m sure I would have inadvertently tackled them both if I hadn’t righted myself first. I also ran into my ex Chris’ sister, Alyssa, and his mom, Kathy. It was around mile 24 and I was getting a little tired so it took me a minute to realize that it was really them and I wasn’t just seeing things. I haven’t seen them in the 6 months since Chris left me for another girl while we were on the ship in Antarctica (with 6 days left on the trip, and he couldn’t man up and tell me the real reason he left me… yeah, it was cold) and I had mixed feelings about them being there. On one hand, I think they found out I was running the race and came to see me and I really, truly appreciate that. They really are good people. On the other hand, seeing them really threw me for an emotional loop that I wasn’t prepared to tackle. It shook me for about 3 miles until I started to get so choked up that I couldn’t breathe and started to catch my toe on rocks because my mind wasn’t on the trail; thankfully I was able to use some of my mindfulness meditation techniques to refocus my attention and I was good from there. I finally met up with another runner for the last few miles which made them fly. When we reached the clearing to the finish I couldn’t believe we were already done!

View from the finish line

At the end of the day, I came in at 7:22, 1 hour and 25 minutes faster than Laurel Highlands! The vet of 90 ultras who commented on my form also said that he considered this a hard and technical course (I guess I’m biased by Laurel’s difficulty) and said that on another course we could finish 2 hours faster. Although there were flat parts where I could run fast (“fast” being relative, of course), my Garmin says the elevation gain over 31 miles was 12,000 feet; RunningAhead.com says it was 18,000 feet. Either way, I guess my experiences running in Pittsburgh have altered my perception of “flat.” I’m proud that I ran so strong without a taper and I’m psyched to be reaping the benefits of my training. This race didn’t hurt like shorter races have and I ran strong until the end (I realize this might mean I need to start running harder).

With new ultra runner friends at the finish. Me, Joel and Bob. I later found out it was Bob's first ultra. Congrats!!

Finishing so strong made me feel tough. I have this mental image of a woman running through the woods, getting dirty, tackling hills, roots and rocks, and being strong, beautiful and graceful all at once. I am certainly not very strong, I make no claims to being beautiful and I am surely not graceful- but floating through the woods today made me feel like I was all of the above. Today, running set me free and helped me realize that I’m becoming person I want to be. I hope there are more runs like this in store- if nothing else I’ll certainly seek it in this race next year. This was one of my favorite races and I’ve already recommended it to other runners.

Race Pros:

Great course support and accessibility
Frequent restrooms. Not porta potties, restrooms, located about every 2 miles.
Gorgeous course
Great packets, probably the best I’ve gotten. For $40 race registration, I got a fuel belt(!)* , a tech shirt, and lots of Hammer products and other goodies.

Possible Improvements:

The trails were poorly marked with ribbons and flour. The ribbons were pulled off the trees by passersby and the flour became thinned out towards the end. One runner commented that it was the poorest marked course he had run. At one place, about 10 other runners and I missed a turn the first time and I redirected runners who ran right past it the second and third times. I think this allowed two runners to cut the course because I left them in the dust on one loop, they never passed me (I didn’t make any stops and it was single track so I couldn’t have missed two runners passing me) and they somehow leapfrogged ahead of me to the next aid station. It was sketchy, but ultimately running is a race against yourself and I hope they didn’t cheat themselves out of an honest run.

My favorite course marking

No medals! Really? One of the race organizers asked: Do you really need another medal? No, I don’t. Honestly, I’m running out of room for them and I’m not sure how to display them without it being showy. But it’s nice to mark an accomplishment (and it helps me keep track of races). If I don’t need a medal, how about a diploma? I could use another one of those right about now. Could you please fast forward me to Doctor, Mr. RD?

Training

DCtoPgh — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 21:28:07 GMT

I recently realized that although I talk a lot about my running and racing, I don’t talk a lot about my training. I thought it be a good idea to share how I’m training to run JFK50 in November.

I’m following the Annapolis Striders Plan modified as such:

Monday	Swimming, no less than 2 miles
Tuesday	5 plus yoga
Wednesday	AM: 7 plus running the Cathedral\stairs; PM; Swim no more than 2 miles
Thursday	Rest
Friday	5 plus yoga. I swapped Th/Fr so my legs would be fatigued for the weekend runs
Saturday	16-22 miles
Sunday	10 miles

The Cathedral of Learning where I run stairs. It's the second tallest academic building in the world.

I will try to run as many runs as I can on trails but with a busy semester that might be tough to swing logistically. I also plan to run extra long at least once a month. For September it will be the Youngstown Ultra Trail Classic 50K on the 19th. For October I have yet to decide. I want to shoot for a 40 miler a few weeks out. I have two options. I could either:

Run the Marine Corps Marathon as scheduled and then tack on 14 miles

The previous or following day (I’m not sure if back to back runs would physiologically reproduce the stress of 40 continuously)
The same day

Run the Marine Corps Marathon slower than normal and try to tackle the 40 the following week.

I’m not sure if a too-long taper (Option 1) is better or worse than back to back high-mileage weeks (Option 2). This is a lot of mileage for me so I’m hoping I can maintain this volume and remain uninjured. Any input is more than appreciated!

RR: Annie's Run

DCtoPgh — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 19:08:51 GMT

Pre-Race

On Wednesday I run into Lucas, a new friend I recently met at a coffee shop, who is also running JFK. He’s a 6 time Ironman and a 6 time marathoner with a personal best of 2:47. As we chat he mentions that he’s running a race called Annie’s Run on Saturday and invites me to join. It’s a 6 hour all you can run race on a 1.25 mile hilly wood chip trail a half hour south of the city. Registration is $3 and I’m scheduled to run 16 miles anyway. After consulting with my 50 mile coach and some friends, I can’t decide if I want to run for 16 miles or the full six hours. It’ll be a game day decision.

Race Day

Lucas, a Pittsburgh native, told me it would take 45 minutes to get to Upper St. Clair; it takes half that so I beat the RD to the course at 5:15 am. Lucas and his dad, Lou, aren’t far behind. I have no expectations for today, so I chat with Lou as Lucas runs around, registers, stretches, and finds out that the course record is 32 laps (40 miles). It’s interesting for me to see the game face of someone who I perceive as being very mellow and laid-back.

More people start to arrive and I befriend Mike, an electrician who has run two 50Ks (but never a marathon). I meet Kyle, who must be affiliated with Fleet Feet (he was giving out Fleet Feet tech shirts), who recognizes me from the Post-Gazette article. Kyle tells me he’s a Marine and thanks me for my efforts for the Semper Fi Fund. As I chat with Sam, the RD, I see Rick Freeman, the current Laurel Highlands RD, and he introduces me to the former Laurel RD (and former record holder). I recognize another Laurel 50Ker from this year, and I realize that this is not as casual a race as I first thought. I look more closely at the competition and I realize that at 5’8” and 135 lbs I easily outweigh the female competition by 30 pounds. The other female runners cumulatively have as much body fat as I do; they are cut and they look like they are about to crush this race. What is this race about that drew so many skilled athletes?? Maybe the 6 hour thing scared off anyone not insanely hardcore.

The clock creeps towards the start time of 6 am and Sam gathers the attention of the runners. He announces that for the past several years, his wife Annie had hosted a birthday run for him. He tearfully continues that he lost Annie to cancer in December so this year he renamed the race in her memory. Both Sam and Annie are accomplished ultrarunners and a quilt of Annie’s favorite races is hanging and some of her trophies are on the registration table. I’m simultaneously saddened by his loss and feel privileged to be part of honoring her memory and her love for the sport.

We begin running counterclockwise (three hours later we switch direction) and start by passing a sweet vegetable garden with male and female scarecrows who are dressed to the nines (tux and beautiful red party dress). Next there are cows and their calves. Along the course I’ll also see: bunnies, deer, a wild turkey, chipmunks and an enormous groundhog (comparing him to the size of my cat, I’m guessing he’s about 20 pounds). We turn a corner and there is a hill. The vets immediately start to walk- I trust their judgment. The hill is easily runnable, but running up it 20+ times would probably destroy my legs because I’m human.

Lucas, however, is not human. As the leader, he laps me three laps in and he is making it look so easy. His blond hair is waving in the wind (no, seriously, it is) and even though he’s coasting at a great clip, he makes it look effortless. The man should be a model- he makes our sport look graceful and beautiful as he bounds up the big hill and into the forest. As I clod along I simultaneously hate him and want to be him.

The loops aren’t as boring as I think they would be. Lucas laps me like a dozen times and some of the other runners lap me a few times, but everyone is exceedingly encouraging and it’s kind of nice to see people and chat with them as they run by you. Being lapped isn’t as demoralizing as I’d imagine- I’m running my own race and I’m not trying to kill myself since I have my first Olympic triathlon next weekend.

At mile 16 I take a break for a drink and chat with Lou for a minute. He’s a loyal spectator- watching us run loops over and over and over for 6 hours. He cheers for me when I see him and calls me baby which I find really endearing. At one point I run by him as he’s sitting and ask if he’s having a good time and making friends. He responds that he’s doing what he likes- being lazy. I joke that I need to pick up that hobby and he suddenly snaps into Dad mode: “Oh no you don’t! Don’t you dare!” So I run on

I decide I’ll push for 26.2 to round out a marathon- I’m feeling good and it’s a great day- why not? In my mind I’m weighing two factors:

It would be cool to shoot for 50K
I have a triathlon next weekend, I don’t want to kill my legs.

I waffle and then realize that at my pace 50K would take me 6 hours and 1 or 2 minutes. I’m not sure how strict Sam is, but I’d be livid if I missed a 50K by such a narrow margin so settle for 26.2.

I walk a lap after my marathon and Sam runs by me yelling: “Make sure to stick around! We have a prize for you!”

Me: “A prize?”

Sam: “Top three men and women get prizes,” and runs ahead like he just told me something as obvious as the sky is blue and we are running today.

But this is not insignificant news to me: I’m not even an age grouper (okay, I have one age group award that was a sham). There is no way I’m a top three female out of these thin, sinewy, muscled, insane women. I finish my lap, look at the tallies and realize two things:

I can’t count when I run. I ran 28.75 miles, not 27.5 (which also means I could have finished a 50K in time! Argh!)
I’m not just top three, I’m #2!

Lucas not only won the race, he shattered the course record with 36 laps (45 miles) on his first ultramarathon. It was inspirational to see such athleticism and the support on the course was fantastic.

This was a race I’d surely run again. It was challenging but not brutal. And my prize was a pie! Clearly my kind of race! The most incredible thing to me is that I found out about this race on Wednesday and ran 29 miles on Saturday. Saturday night I went out in 4” stilettos and Sunday morning I felt darn near 100%. I always wanted to be the type of runner who could wing a marathon, and now it looks like I am.

JFK 50

DCtoPgh — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 19:12:01 GMT

So running has taken me some crazy places (like Antarctica for starters).

My favorite picture from Antarctica. An iceberg in Paradise Harbor.

Running hasn't just taken me far geographically, it's also taken me far in terms of pushing my phsyical and mental limits, as I learned when I ran a 50K. Now, for "real" endurance athletes- Ironmen (and women), runners who run 50 or 100 milers- a 50K isn't a big deal. But for me, a 50K was a huge deal. I've been running for about two years and when I started I struggled to run a mile. I can't believe how far I've come, particularly since the ultra I ran has a reputation for being rather challenging.

So now I can technically say that I'm an "ultra runner" but to be honest, I don't say it a lot because when I do, I feel like a bit of a sham. Okay, a HUGE sham. My 50K should not be lumped in with people who run 100 miles. I feel like I'm in a weird limbo between marathoners and "real" ultra runners and I don't like it. Now, I'm not going to go out and run a 100 miler anytime soon (I like sleep and light), but today I kind of shocked myself when I signed up for the JFK 50. Just a few weeks ago, in my Laurel Highlands race report I typed: "Right now I’d think you were crazy if you told me I was going to run a 50 miler or try an Ironman… " What a difference a few weeks can make.

RR: Laurel Highlands 50K

DCtoPgh — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 12:56:31 GMT

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:

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.
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.
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.

Note that this isn't me. This was a picture I lifted from the internet and is some nice person hiking the trail. I didn't use poles and only carried a Camelback.

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.

Mini-Update

DCtoPgh — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 14:10:30 GMT

I haven't blogged in a while. Here's what I haven't blogged about:

I PRed at the Vermont City marathon with a time of 4:23.00. That knocked 5 minutes off my Pittsburgh time and almost 20 minutes off my Fall marathon. It was a good race and a great weekend with friends.
I bit the bullet and signed up for an ultra. Next weekend I'll be running the Laurel Highlands 50K race to celebrate my 26th birthday (yes, I realize only sick people celebrate their birthdays with a 31 mile trail run). I'm not trained for the trails and the hills, I'm really winging this, but I'm not looking to set any records and I'm pretty sure I have the finish in me.
It's not yet official, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to sign up for the Pittsburgh triathlon, an Olympic distance race. It'll be my first. Again, haven't specifically trained for it, and while my biking isnt the strongest, I swim a few miles a few times a week and my running is where it needs to be. I'm going to wait to make sure I get through the ultra uninjured before sending in the registration.

Esprit De Corps Ultra Update

DCtoPgh — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 13:36:08 GMT

I just wanted to update and let my readers know that Jimmy and four other Marines completed a 177.5 ultra marathon to raise money for the Inured Marine Semper Fi Fund. They did a phenomenal job, but they are unfortunately still short of their fundraising goal. Please check out the video below and support our men who ran 177.5 miles to raise money for the men and women who were injured to protect our freedoms.

Click here to donate

Esprit De Corps Ultra

DCtoPgh — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 19:51:11 GMT

As many of you who read this blog know, I am a giant bleeding heart. I blame it on being a psychologist because my profession requires me to empathize with others, to put myself in their shoes. As a giant bleeding heart, I always try my best to help others, whether it is something small like helping a little old lady while out on a run, by volunteering in a more formal fashion (e.g. coaching Girls on the Run) or supporting my friends in their endeavors. Today's blog post is about supporting a man that I feel very honored to call a friend.

A lot of people don't understand why I run or how on earth I could run as far as I do. However, when you compare my experience and distances to my friend, Jimmy's, I look like a kindergartner at a one-mile fun run. Jimmy has been running for the better part of 20 years and in the last few years has polished off 14 marathons and 1 ultra marathon. Jimmy is also a husband, father of three and a member of the US Marine Corps... he is (and should be) very proud of all of his involvement and accomplishments. Jimmy is known for doing great things, but he completely blew me away when he told me of his next endeavor.

Between October 22 and October 26, Jimmy will be running the Espirit De Corps Ultra. A lot of ultras are tests of will, pushing the body to its ultimate limits. A lot of them come with big bragging rights. While this ultra will serve both functions, it is truly serving a much higher purpose. The Espirit De Corps is a 177.5 mile run from Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, PA to the Iwo Jima memorial. 1775 was the date and Tun Tavern was the place that the Marine Corps were born. So, it is only fitting that 5 Marines (Jimmy was recently added to the team, so the website doesn't yet reflect his involvement) run to benefit other Marines. The last day of the ultra will be at the Marine Corps Marathon and all of the money that they raise will benefit the Injured Marine Semper Fi Fund.

If you would like to donate, you can do so here; as you can see they have only been able to raise about 30% of their $25,000 goal. You can also support them by sharing their story. Lastly, if you will be at the Marine Corps Marathon, please show your love and support for these strong and courageous men who are running in support of those who have been injured serving our country.

Uh-oh Ultra

DCtoPgh — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 15:03:44 GMT

Somehow, somewhere, the idea was planted that I should run an ultra (read: Rich encouraged me). If I'm trained for a marathon, why not push myself a little further? Limitations have been logistics of cost and travel. Plus, my friends who run ultras run 50 or 100 milers or 50K trail races. I need to start small (as small as an ultra can be, at least). Well today, while looking for directions for a race I have tomorrow, I stumbled upon this:

JC Stone 50K

It is a 50K that, if held next year, will be two weeks after Antarctica (when I hope to be in the best shape of my life). Cost is $20 and it's less than a half an hour away. I can run three marathons and an ultra between October and May, right? We'll find out!

Current race schedule:

End of October: MCM

Beginning of March: Antarctica

End of March: 50K

Beginning of May: Pittsburgh (not official yet, but everyone says it'll back in 2009)