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?

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:

1. It would be cool to shoot for 50K

2. 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:

1. 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!)

2. 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.

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.

On Saturday I ran the Ikea Montour Trail Half Marathon. As always,  I wasn't sure how the race was going to go. I haven't run a half marathon since a disastrous Baltimore Half Marathon in 2004. I've been having really good long runs recently, but I wasn't sure what pace I could sustain for 13.1 miles. My goal was to break 2 hours but I wasn't sure if it was a realistic goal or not.

Pre-Race

I was up at 5:45 with my best-thing-since-sliced-bread boyfriend, Chris. I got ready while he went on a coffee run and then we went to pick-up my friend, Steph, who was also racing the half. We got to the start/packet pick-up/chips around 7:15 for an 8 am start. I was pleased to see the shirt wasn't the t-shirt I was expecting, but instead a long-sleeve Brooks technical shirt. Nice, I'll take that! We hung around and stretched and met up with my friend Kasey and a friend of hers, David. I love the pre-race atmosphere... all the runners warming up and chatting and anticipating their potential. Love it.

Race

I start the run with Kasey and David because we're all hoping to break two hours. Kasey's PR is 2:04; I'm not sure of David's PR, but I think he has a 3:40 marathon time floating around somewhere. It isn't too hot of a day, but it is HUMID. At this point I'm just thankful that the forecasted rain has held off, but I'm not sure how the weather is going to factor in.

The gun fires and we're off. The first mile is a long downhill with a net elevation change of 300 feet. Everyone goes out insanely fast and our first mile is 8:03. If I were racing by myself, and not with Kasey and David, I would have gone out conservatively and tried to leave some to push at the end. Kasey and David are more even-split people. I figure I'll keep up with them and it'll be a bonus if I have some kick at the end. Miles 2 and 3 are 9:01 pace, Mile 4 goes through a 500 foot tunnel and my Garmin cries Uncle, yielding unreliable readings. This is where I start to slow down. I'm not sure if it's the humidity, but now I'm starting to second-guess myself about going out too fast. As a psychologist and a runner, I know that running is just as much a mental sport as a physical one, and I can't start psyching myself out. I use some time-tested mantras ("Who's a runner? Kat's a runner!") but I'm digging too deep for this early in the race. Around miles 5, 6, and 7 I'm starting to question my ability to meet my goal (splits: 9:08, 9:10, 9:18). To add to this, Kasey cramps and needs to stop to walk. I keep going and David stays with her but I'm really regretting my race strategy. An additional factor at this point was poorly placed water stops- no water between miles 5 and 9! Argh!

Mile 7 is the turnaround for the out-and-back course. A turnaround not just physically but mentally. At this point, I start flying and suddenly I have a bit of a kick in my step again (mile 8: 8:42). I realize at this point that the last few miles must have been a gradual uphill (my Garmin later confirms a 300-foot climb) and maybe I can make up some time on the downhill. From here on out something happens and my mind becomes focused and sharpened. My legs and breathing start to hit a rhythm. The pack has spread out and I keep finding people I can play mental games with: I just need to pass the girl in the blue; there's a rubber band between me and the guy in the black shirt and he's pulling me to the finish line.

The course has been devoid of spectators and was sparse on volunteers. It was amazing to start to see non-running humans around mile 12.75. The winners were cheering us on and I made eye contact with one guy (my race angel) who said "You've got it, girl! Finish strong!" He was wearing a JFK 50 mile shirt, an endurance race that happens in my home state of Maryland, and the realization I only had a little bit left to go, feeling a home-court connection, and finally being cheering for helped me kick it into high gear. I ran hard towards the finish and found Chris and Steph at the finish line cheering me on. Chris is one of my biggest supporters and it was so awesome to see him cheering for me and bringing me home. I finished in 1:58:06, beating my goal of coming in under 2-hours.

Post-Race

I got a medal, which I was really excited about (yay bling!).  I was also excited I was able to break 2 hours on a trail run in disgusting conditions (runners looked like swimmers at the end). I found out Steph came within two minutes of breaking her PR of 1:40 and likely would have without a porta-potty break. Kasey and David came in at 2:02, a 2-minute PR for Kasey, even though she didn't meet her sub-2 goal. Overall it was a really great morning with really great people. I'm starting to realize there is no other way I'd rather spend a morning than racing with friends.

Tomorrow I'm running a trail 5K. I've never run a trail anything, I haven't run a 5K since April and I haven't run a race since June (10K).  Back for the other races I was really nervous to get back into racing after a winter full of injury. Right now, the night before this race, I'm not nervous, I'm just excited! How cool is it that I get to run a trail 5K?! I'm not expecting to PR, but even with what sounds like a tough course (I've heard of 6-8-6 splits... guess where the hill is?!) I know after a summer full of training that I'm capable of surprising myself and that is a very exciting possibility. Tonight got me excited for tomorrow, too. The packet pick-up was two blocks from one of my favorite happy hour locations so I was able to meet up with some friends for a beer and some carbs (was it a bad idea for me to split large cheese fries as my pre-race carbs?!). And I must say that one of the things I love about races is how nice everyone is... I love being around the volunteers and other runners. And I most certainly can't wait to have a great morning tomorrow Until then, I won't ask for good luck, because I don't need it because I've already put in the hard work.

Because my training had been progressing successfully with faster and easier runs, I thought that I'd incorporate some core work into my routine. Since I was at the gym I decided to throw in some Bulgarian split squats, demonstrated in the video below:

Even though I have strong legs, these are hard. I should have known better when my boyfriend, who pushes vans in the desert for a leg workout, recommended them to me. I did two sets of 8 on each leg with 2 5-pound weights. As a result, I have been unable to walk for the last two days. I've been the kind of sore where I tripped because I couldn't lift my leg high enough to keep my stiletto from catching a crack in the sidewalk. I've been the kind of sore where the pain woke me up at night when I was sleeping. On Wednesday, after a session with a client I went to stand up and couldn't without using my arms to push me up out of the chair. Those Bulgarian split squats put me in my place and showed me who was boss (not me).

Even though I was sore, I decided to get my runs in, hoping they'd help me loosen up. My 6 miles on Wednesday night were a complete and utter disaster. I knew my legs were shot but it was hot so I wanted to run through the park because there are water fountains. One of my favorite trails (Panther Hollow in Schenley Park) has a long, steady uphill that I usually run from the bottom up. Since my legs were so dead I thought I'd take the "easy" way out and run it downhill. Nope, that didn't work at all. In fact, my slowest mile was the downhill part because my quads were already shot. My pace for this 6 mile run was slower than my marathon pace from last year! It was the first bad run I've had in well over a month so I chalked it up to a bad day and figured it was due.

That, however was just the beginning. On Thursday I went running with my friend Steph who ran XC in college and qualified for Boston on her first marathon. Steph can easily place in local races and hopes to BQ again at Chicago this year. Let's just put this in perspective by saying that her planned marathon pace is about my 5K PR pace. We ran together because a) my tempo runs could be very slow recovery runs for her) and b) she knows the trails in Frick Park, which I've never run on and wanted to learn. I made a few critical mistakes: 1) Do not plan tempo runs on trails. 2) Do not run on new, technical trails on days where you can barely get out of bed. This run was abysmal. In a 3.5 mile run I had to stop twice to walk, which is uncharacteristic of me and terribly embarrassing in front of my very accomplished runner friend (who, I should mention, is the nicest person in the world and wouldn't be the type to judge). My "tempo" run which should have been about 8:45 pace ended up at a 10 minute pace. In some ways I think I'm being hard on myself because I was recovering from a tough few sessions and the terrain was more technical than I've ever run before, but it is disappointing to not  meet goals that you've set for yourself.

What I've learned:

1. Bulgarian split squats are a great workout, but if executed should probably be left for Thursdays so I can recover with a rest day on Friday.

2. I love the trails in Frick Park! They are so beautiful and I can't wait to run there more.

3. I love running with other people, the time goes by so much faster. Steph and I blew through mile 1.

4. I need to be less hard on myself and keep in mind that external factors can effect my running and that bad days will pop up. And when bad days do pop up, you can only learn from them and move forward.