Meghan's Race Reports

Way Too Cool!

2011-03-21T15:12:00.000-07:00

This winter's training has been the most successful one I remember. I have been consistently working out with Sunsweet Team-sters Craig, Jeff, Lewis, and Dan, with good results - at least on the track. I had given Craig the satisfaction of beating me by nearly a minute in the 4- mile Truffle Shuffle in early February, but was betting that I would beat him by 6 minutes at this year's Way Too Cool 50k.

A little after 7:00 on race morning, Craig, Todd Braje, Lewis, John Ticer and I headed out for a warm-up and preview of a bit of the new course. It was promising to be a great day, weather wise, with blue skies and cool temperatures. Back at the start area, decisions on clothing (hat/no hat, gloves, sleeves) were made and I headed for the start. Craig and I ran some strides, and bumped into Jed Tukman, one of my pacers for Western States this June. Jed said to me "I'm going to stay behind you this year, because I hate it when you pass me!" I told him that was a good idea.

I lined up next to Joelle Vaught and Caitlin Smith, both previous winners of this race. I had mentally seeded myself 3rd to those 2, but never allowed myself to think that I couldn't win. Caren Spore was behind me, fit and ready to go as always.

After a greeting to the masses from RD Julie Fingar, the countdown began. Finally, we were off at a quick clip. I was with Joelle and Caitlin for about a half mile before they began to drift ahead. Jed was unable to contain himself as was Craig, and they both pulled away from me early. My first mile felt faster than the 6:40 I clocked and I wondered then and there if I was not going to have a good day after all.

The race begins! Photo by Chuck Godtfredson

The only wildlife I would see all day was surprising - a gorilla jumping out of the bushes randomly scaring runners, as we hit the single track of the new part of the course. That was a first for me. The trail felt sweet beneath my feet. I was running right behind John, and could no longer see Craig, Jed, Joelle, or Caitlin. After the first stream crossing, the trail wound upwards, and my heart rate was getting out of control. Ugh - so early, and runners pulling away. A train caught up to me and hung on me heels for the next few miles as we wound through a beautiful oak savanna. The runner behind me asked if he was annoying me being so close. "Not at all". He hadn't run an ultra in some time and was not sure how hard to go, liked my pace, and decided to stick there.

Some bikers were out on the course, cheering us on, and one of them said "Good job, Caren!". Great. Caren is right behind me. I yelled back "Are you stalking me Caren?" I'm not sure she heard me, but shortly after she passed me at a water crossing, and I hung on her heels all the way to the end of the first loop. At that point she urged me to go ahead as we were hitting the long down hill section, which is my strength and her weakness.

Caren leading me into the end of loop 1. Photo by Barbara Ashe

Finally, things started to click in my body. I surged until reaching the next new part of the course - the Western States Trail down to the lower quarry road. What an absolute blast! The perfect downhill pitch for flying. When it finally ended and we crossed hwy 49, I was certain I would not see Caren again. I grabbed a couple of cups of water, downed them, and forged on.

I was experimenting using a gel flask rather than packets to see if I could improve on my calorie intake during a race. Historically, I would get behind on consumption due to inattentiveness to time and the nuisance of opening gel packs, the sticky mess, and lack of getting all the contents in my mouth. Today, I was taking periodic nips of gel, trying to stay topped off all the time. So far, so good!

Clipping along the lower quarry road, my Garmin was registering about 7:00 miles. It was a good effort, but I didn't want to go any harder. I realized the Caren can easily be running that pace, and as the road began including some climbs, she inched her way back to me. We ran together for awhile and I said "I think we would make either a really good Trans-Rockie team or a really bad Trans-Rockie team" - a race where team mates must start and finish each leg together - and we concluded we would probably be pretty good because we would always be containing each other - she would have to slow her climbs and I, my downhill.

She pulled away from me before Maine Bar aid station, and I stopped to get my bottle filled. John was still there and waited for me, and we ran out together. He said Craig was about a minute ahead and that he was tired of trying to catch up to him. We settled into working together, which we do very well, as we have run most of White River 50 Mile together, he paced me to a win at Where's Waldo 100k, and we have done numerous workouts on the track and long training runs together. Come to think of it, Craig should have been with us from the start. Maybe then....but I don't want to spoil the story.

As usual, Jady Palko caught up to me, and I chatted with him for a bit. Jady is known for his sporadic bursts of speed followed by tortuous slow downs, but he seems to enjoy himself. He apparently tired of my talking and flew ahead, only to be passed by John and me shortly after. We took turns leading, and I wondered when the heck I was going to see Caren, or was she feeling so good that she would catch the leading ladies? A couple of stream crossings were so deep I wondered if she had gotten swept away. John noticed my untied shoe and made me tie it. I told him to keep moving and make me catch up. As I started to reel him back in, he started to pick it up, and fairly soon, we were beginning to roll. We flew into ALT, I grabbed and S!Cap, drank two cups of coke, and was gone.

John and I cruising into ALT aid station. Photo by Carole Connor

John then had to run hard to catch me, and we kept the pace going. I was feeling great, and suddenly ahead of me I spied blue shorts, grey shirt, and red cap. Not remembering what color hat Craig had on, I yelled back to John "what color hat is Craig wearing?". I got no reply, so I asked louder (we are getting older, after all). A very reluctant "Red, yes, that is Craig". I did a little happy jump, and John reined me in with a "Just wait, be patient", but what I heard was "Pipe down for crying out loud!"

I did a little yoga breathing, and John and I silently caught up to Craig. I put my arm around his shoulder and he said "I wondered when you guys would catch me". In a very sympathetic voice I said "how's it going?" He said "oh, up and down". I took off, baiting him with an invitation to "work with me!" but he declined. John and I kept up our strong pace, passing a couple more runners before we hit the base of the big climb up Goat Hill. I spied Jed and yelled out to him. He was a sack-a-woe, cramping and beat. He tried to run with me, and I chided him for not sticking to his plan. I told him his job at Western States is to make me hate him, and he said he hated me already. "But you can't drop me at Western States" I said as I left him to struggle his way in.

Goat Hill is runnable if you are Caren Spore. I could run sections, and when I got to the top was told that Caren was about a minute ahead of me. I grabbed a couple of cups of liquid, one gel pack in case the flask went dry, and flew down the hill. John was no longer with me, and I was on a mission. I was focused on not going too crazy, as there are some uphills that I had forgotten about in previous races here. I caught a couple more men, and FINALLY saw the bright yellow jersey of Caren. She was cresting a hill, and I hope she hadn't seen me, but as I approached the top, realized it was part of a switchback, and she probably saw me and picked up the pace. I kept pushing, and saw her again. Gradually, I reeled her in, called her a stinker, and she returned the compliment. Finally I said I was going around and she stayed right on my heels. We caught a man ahead, and I abruptly told him "You're going to have to get out our way, there's a race going on" and I think he probably heard "OUT OF OUR WAY! TWO B____S COMING THROUGH". (To the man we passed - if you are reading this, I sincerely apologize!)

I managed to stay ahead of Caren by a few feet all the way about half way up the trail before the hwy 49 crossing. She is a superior climber, and she pulled away a good 10 yards by the time we crested. My long legs pulled her back and we crossed the hwy virtually together. She ran close to the aid station table and whether she was planning on stopping or not, I yelled at her "don't stop!" I wanted this race to play out with no excuses. She stayed in the lead as we climbed out of the aid station, and somehow I managed to stay right on her heels in the lower section. As soon as we hit the steeper, rocky section, she gapped me again. We had less than a mile to go, and I was about to explode I was breathing so hard. I only hoped she was breathing hard enough to not hear mine, as it is kind of embarrassing.

At the top of the rocky section she had 20 yards on me. My mind was no longer in the game, but my body completely took over. My legs unwound and ate up the ground beneath me. Caren was getting closer and closer, and at the very top of the climb, I caught her - with a quarter mile to go. "Let's go!" I shouted between gasps. "I'm done" she said. I clambered down the steep dip before me, fumbled my way up the other side, and ran as hard as I could. "She may think she's done, but I know better than to give an inch," I thought to myself.

Finish line in sight! Photo by Chuck Godtfredson

I did try to look back, but couldn't see anything. I crossed the finish line, 4:11 flat, and Caren, a mere 11 seconds back. We embraced, and laughed at how much we hated each other.

So glad to be done - photo by Chuck Godtfredson

Of course, in reality, I love her for what she brought out in me, and I think I did the same for her. Without our race, I would have easily been a minute slower. I found that my body could actually take over my mind, rather than the other way around. Joelle and Caitlin added their bit of drama to the finish with Joelle taking over the lead the same place I passed Caren.

The top 4 women left to right - Me, Joelle (1st in 4:02) and Caitlin (2nd in 4:04), and Caren. They were reacting to me telling them I was turning 50 in 5 weeks. And, I'm really NOT that tall. RD Julie Fingar at far right. Photo by Chuck Godtfredson

This was my fastest Cool ever, even though with a different course it is hard to compare. My energy levels were great for the entire race, so the gel flask is 'in'. John finished in 4:15, and the 6 minutes I had predicted I would beat Craig by turned into 9.

Hmmm - 4:20:27 minus 4:11....that is MORE than 9 minutes. Photo by Chuck Godtfredson.

He and Jed both say they are going to stay behind me at Lake Sonoma 50 Mile on April 2nd. Really? We'll see.

John Ticer, Chris and Craig (you can take the boys out of Cool, but you can't take the Cool out of the Thornley Boys) and me. Photo by Carole Connor.

Bandera 100k - 2011

2011-01-12T21:47:00.000-08:00

As one of the long runs in the Montrail Ultra Cup series, I decided last summer to enter this winter event. I figured my best chances to repeat the win were to hit all the 100ks, and now I had an excuse to try another race. Later it was announced the race would also serve as the USATF National Championship race which could possibly add to the competitive field.

Up and coming Pam Smith from Salem had run this race last year, and was only minutes from the winners. She entered again this year, and she joined the Sunsweet group of Laura and Jeff Riley, Craig and Laurie Thornley, Dan Olmstead, and I on this trip to the Lone Star state. A wealth of information, she filled us in best she could on the terrain, course, weather, and the town of Bandera. We made it out to the course the day before the race for a sampling. It was all it was cracked up to be. Rocks, rocks, rocks, dirt, sotol cactus, climbs, rocks, descents, rocks. Rocks.

Sotol Cactus - Note the nice teeth!

Race morning arrived and the weather looked promising for the most part. Former Oregonian and good friend Olga Varlamova welcomed us, and was the aid station captain for the start/finish area. The start for the 100k was near the headquarters, and the 25/50k start was about a quarter mile away. All races started at the same time, and the courses were staggered to eliminate as much overlap of athletes as possible. Logistically this was a great plan, but it put a big question mark on how I was going to tell if I could beat Craig in my first lap of the 100k to his JV 50k.

The ever charming Olga Varlamova

My time goal was to break 10 hours, after conferring with Pam and Melanie Fryer (100k Team USA member, and very experienced on this course). Pam started with a goal of 4 minutes faster than last year (10:32?) and I immediately gave her a new goal of 10:15, based on her recent performance at JFK 50 Mile. The other main competitor was Liza Howard, who I barely met at The NorthFace 50 in SF last month, but had been impressed by her competitiveness and humble spirit. She lives in San Antonio and trains on this course, which I would learn is a pretty nice advantage and a great skill to learn.

The race started at 7:30, and the top men bolted quickly. I was running next to Liza for maybe a half mile, wondering why she was wearing tights. We chatted briefly, then she pulled away on the first climb, seemingly floating away effortlessly. In a matter of moments, the field had thinned and for the rest of the day I would run alone - maybe with someone tailing me for awhile, maybe passing, but the largest number of folks I saw were at each aid station. On the way down the first hill, I started brushing up against the sotol. Ouch. Tights good, Lululemon shorty-shorts - bad. At first I was weaving away from it but that got tiresome and didn't work anyway.

As Pam said, just because we get a downhill, doesn't mean we can run it. No kidding! A few long strides, then a bunch of short ones, a few walking steps, then some longs ones, then running, then another climb/hike. It was like running in 5/4 time, always one extra beat per measure that one doesn't normally expect. I started to hear music from the first aid station, so glanced at my watch. It was in the 40+ minutes range. I predicted that if I could run between each aid station in under one hour that I could reach my time goal. The music was a tease, as it was quite loud and could be heard when still minutes away. When I finally arrived it was so loud that my request for a gel went unnoticed, so I went through without, and my time was 52 minutes. That seemed reasonable to me. I took one of my gels from a pocket and gulped it down. The sotol in this section was much less abundant, and the trail flattened out quite a bit. I came to an opening and road crossing where the RD Joe was hanging out. I asked him "how far is she?" and he said, uh, I think less than a minute. Comforted by that thought I relaxed a bit. The rest of the way to the next aid station was runnable and pretty straight forward. I arrived to a helpful crowd, include Laura Riley, who was worried that I didn't have a back tag indicating my age group (a USATF requirement in age championship races) pinned one on me. She said the leader was about 8 minutes ahead (!). Wow, that was more than a minute.

The next section was also mostly flat runnable trail. Eventually I made it to the aid station "cross roads in" which we hit twice. Laura was there again, ready to help make sure I had what I wanted. I grabbed gel, heed, and took off. Alone again, I was ambling along at a relaxed pace when I heard footsteps. When I finally turned I saw it was Pam! She said something very cute - about feeling like she was in some parallel universe where she was way ahead of where she thought she would be. I told her all I kept thinking was we had to do this loop again. Worried that maybe I had been too relaxed, I picked up the pace, and through the technical section, she dropped off. After more climbing, getting scratched up again, encountering 50k runners, the trail turned downhill, back into 'cross roads out'. I was hitting all aid stations in less than an hour. I asked the volunteers where Liza was, and they said about 10 minutes ahead. I forged on, into a section with a lot of climbing. Into the next aid station in 45 minutes, I asked again, and I was seemingly holding my own with Liza.

The next section had two big climbs - Cairns Climb and Boyle's Bump. I was pretty much reduced to grinding up and gingerly going down. When it flattened out, I reminded myself to save something for the next loop. Coming down from Boyle's I tripped, fell ALMOST to the ground, but stopped in a full plank. Gingerly getting up, I was relieved to be unhurt. I picked up speed gradually, hit another downhill stretch with a 90 degree turn at the bottom. I caught my toe and crashed HARD, calf cramping slightly. My first thought was "am I done?" but my body allowed me to walk a bit then jog, then run. Entering into the only out and back section before the turn around for the loop, I strained my eyes looking for Liza, but to know avail. At the turn-around I was ahead of my 4:45 projected time, in 4:37. Craig was there, and let me know that he had barely beat me in the JV race with a 4:32. Liza was reportedly 12 minutes ahead now. Olga took over getting me fueled up and focused, and I was on my way to 'race' the second half.

It was warming up, so I tossed my beanie, but given the protection from my gloves and arm warmers from the last crash, I kept them on. I got my wheels going, and just before the end of the out and back, Pam was on her way down. I was only about 4 minutes ahead of her here, and she looked in complete control.

Now it was time to race, go harder and try not to have too huge a positive split. However, the hills felt a little steeper, and before long I could hear Pam's voice. I pushed harder, and when I had the opportunity and could hear the loud music of the aid station, I started to roll pretty fast. I kept checking my watch, thinking I should be well under an hour, but sounds can be deceiving. When I finally arrived, I was over an hour. It felt impossible to be that much slower, especially given how hard I was working. I ate a gel, had my drink filled, and found that Liza was now 13 minutes ahead. Dang, that girl was GOOD! I took off, still trying to maintain some speed. I caught and passed one man, but he stayed fairly close. I kept looking back, expecting Pam to come cruising by at any moment.

I looked about how I felt. Bleah.

I made to the next aid station, and was greeted by Craig and Laura, who both crewed me through. I had actually cut into Liza's lead, down to 8 minutes, but as I told my crew, I was pretty tired. I jogged out, and really didn't pick up the pace much above that. I was going SLOW, which was too bad, since it was one of the most runnable sections, hardly a rock, hardly a hill. The man I had passed earlier passed me back, then another. I heard a water bottle full of ice coming behind me, and when I turned to look, saw Pam cruising along quite comfortable. "Alright Pam! You are looking GOOD!" She was gracious and encouraging, and ran by me like I was standing still. Seriously, I was amazed at how quickly she disappeared from sight.

As I slogged along too tired to care about the race momentarily I felt I had entered that zone where people "DNF". I didn't want to quit, but I understood why folks do. I came to Bandera to run 62 miles, and I intended to get it done, provided I was not endangering my health. I wasn't bonking, hungry, or hurt, but I had shot my wad racing hard for 40 miles, and now it was time to pay. I felt like crying (like a baby who needs a nap), but focused on what I needed to do at the next aid station to fix myself up for the rest of the day.

I ambled in, and Laura and Craig came to my aid again. I told them I just need to fix this and get going. I grazed on almonds, asked for some ramen noodles, drank some coke, and finally decided to go. I had stood so long my knees were a bit achy as I left. I got to see Dan come into this aid station at the end of the loop, before he headed into his fourth place finish. This loop is one of the shortest legs of the race, but as the RD had promised, every climb looked a little steeper, every rock a little bigger. I was no longer completely dead, but I didn't anticipate a huge bounce back.

I finally made it back to the end of the loop. Laura helped me again get plenty to eat and drink, assuring me that I looked much better than last time she saw me. I said I at least felt like I was running. I had 9.5 miles to go, something I had accomplished in 1:30 first time around. I thought I was going slow, but that maybe I could do the same distance in 1:45 and hit the goal of 10:15 I had set for Pam.

There isn't much to say about the rest. At the last aid station, the volunteers asked me if I wanted to know where the leaders were. I said not really, it didn't matter anymore. I got through the last two climbs and descents without falling, and was happy that my feet weren't hurting given the rocky terrain. I had a decent kick at the end, and was swept up in a hug by Olga at the end, where I unwittingly used an expletive to describe the course in a very loud voice, much to the amusement of all those around, including RD Joe Prusaitis. My time was 10:19. Pam and Liza were both there, looking as if they had already showered and napped. Pam ran 9:46 (50 minutes faster than last year?) and Liza, 9:35. All three of us broke the previous course record.

You ran HOW fast?

Frequently when thinking of my goals for a race, I remember a key one is 'learn something new'. With this race I thought of that at the end, as I indeed learned that I can reach a point that may feel like there is no return, and by trying different things, I may come back.

The NorthFace 50 Mile Challenge

2010-12-08T16:11:00.000-08:00

This was to hopefully be the icing on my cake for 2010. My racing year had never been better, and after the harsh pavement of the World 100k Championships, I was anxious to hit some trails and recover my brain from the mental taxation of aforesaid event. I had no intention of digging myself into a hole of woe, instead celebrate what trail running brings to me and to my many ultra running friends. Joy!

I was hosted by the wonderful Fitzpatricks of Larkspur, near the race start and finish area. Tim saved me a trip into the city and picked up my packet for me. Diana volunteered her day (starting at 3:00 a.m.) to take me to the race start and to crew me at all possible aid stations. She and Tim enlisted fellow ultra runner Jed Tukman to pace me from mile 28 to the finish. Everything was in order and I was relaxed and happy.

The night before the race, I was in bed by 8:00. I started waking up at 1:00, excited to be ready to embark on trails. Finally at 3:00 I got up, had coffee and oatmeal, and by 3:45 Diana and I were on our way to the start. She brought me to a shuttle at Rodeo Beach, gave me a throw away tee to keep warm in, and then we parted, planning on seeing each other at the second aid station.

At the start I milled about looking for familiar faces. Being out of the normal region and in the presence of athletes from around the country and world, I didn't see anyone I knew until I finally saw Kami warming up. We briefly caught up, and continued to warm up. Finally as the start time drew near, I saw Krissy Moehl, Joelle Vaught, Lizzie Hawker, Jenn Shelton, and Rory Boseo. The final countdown came and went, and off we flew.

I ran with Joelle for a very brief period, then Rory for a bit. It was too dark to really see who was ahead, which was just what I wanted. I did not want to get caught up in the early race frenzie and end up suffering early and long. Then Jenn and I ran together for a bit. She asked me what I thought of the early pace, the runners ahead, was she going fast enough. I said "Honey, we've run 1 mile. We have 49 miles for them to slow down." She bought it to some extent, but pulled ahead effortlessly nonetheless. I next found myself running next to Krissy. We chatted briefly, and I knew she was coming back from an injury. We crested the first climb, still in the dark, and as I took advantage of the downhill, she slipped further back. I surmised her injury was bothering her.

On and on into the darkness we ran. We finally hit aid station 1, but I blew through, not having drunk much in the cool temperature. Again we were faced with a long climb, and the headlamps ahead gave me an indication of how far up we had to go. I kept my heart rate below 170 on the climbs as much as possible, otherwise I was staying very relaxed. Still in the dark, I passed 2 women as we hit aid station 2, and Diana was there, very visible, handing me an open gel and a fresh bottle. It was a seamless exchange.

On the downhill I cruised along, chatting with whomever was nearby. Gradually the day began to lighten, and I could see the runners ahead. There was a woman I was closing in on, but we hit another long climb and she kept her distance. We broke out into the coastal area - narrow single track, grassy, windy, and I was feeling pretty slow. I didn't fight the feeling or the wind, just kept plowing along. As usual, I got passed by the men on the climbs, and passed them back on the downs. Cruising along to the Muir Beach aid station I saw Devon who was cheering me on. I yelled out to her "Devon - where are you?" She assured me she was "Right here!" I was disappointed that she wasn't in the mix that day. At this point I caught the woman I had been tailing, Helen Cosposlich, we visited briefly, and I pulled ahead.

The course went along the pavement for a spell, then entered single track again. I passed 2 women on my way, and really enjoyed the very, very long climb with short and not-to-steep switchbacks. I met a man from Juneau, who was there with 6 other Alaskans, feeling very proud of their Geoff Roes. The climb was relentless and deceptive. Every visible summit was false, until finally we reached the top. A little pavement, and onto single track in the woods, some technical downhill through a dense redwood forest, and I could hear the bells for the next aid station. As I climbed up to the road, Diana and Jed were there, ready with the gel, bottle and words of encouragement. I asked what place I was in. Diana replied "you're in 10th, right where you want to be. There are some dreamers up there." I ate a bit of banana as I was feeling peckish, drank some Mountain Dew, and listened to Jed describe the trail I was about to embark upon. I was on my way again, on some rolling, beautiful eucalyptus lined trail. I was clipping the heels of a runner before long, and asked him to choose a side for me to pass. He let me by and I opened up my stride. Feeling pretty good, I cruised along, until reaching a fork in the trail. The monitor there instructed me to the right, letting me know it was the beginning of a long out and back section.

I started to struggle in the now open space. In a few minutes I was facing the front pack of about 5 men, recognizing only Jeff Roes who was in 2nd place. A few other men came next, and then Erik Skaggs. We encouraged each other, then next was Hal Koerner, followed by Uli Steidl. Around another turn, and I met Lizzie Hawker, leading the women's race. She was followed soon by Anna Frost. Another turn, and I saw Kami. We cheered each other on, and cresting a hill, I heard a familiar voice cheering me on. Looking up and seeing Krissy, sidelined, I was saddened that she had had to drop. Inspired by the 3 women ahead of me so far, I started to feel excited. I next met Joelle, then the 5th place woman, followed by Jenn, who looked fabulous. Seventh, eighth, and ninth were unknowns to me. I hit the turn around aid station, just as the skies started to open up. The volunteers were attentive, and as they filled my bottle and opened a gel, I asked someone to pin my number on, as it was barely hanging on by 2 pins. I was offered a poncho to run in, but politely declined. Finally ready to go, I cruised out and started to feel great - maybe from seeing the women ahead, or maybe because there was a tailwind.

I finally made it back to the turn that would bring me to Stinson Beach where Jed would start pacing me. Avery long downhill with lots of switchbacks, and I could see some women ahead that were getting closer and closer. I passed one as the trail flattened off, and followed the other one through the town as we hit pavement. Jed appeared on the road and led me into the aid station, with the woman ahead of me greeted by her coach with "Allez! Allez! Allez!" Diana handed me my bottle and Jed and I were off onto the next climb.

He was somewhat surprised that I wasn't completely dead to the world. Because he was from the area, he knew all of the trails, so was able to describe each section we came to. The most beautiful for me was the Steep Ravine. Huge redwoods, a stream flowing down the center, rock steps leading upward. Jed described every little climb, which were walkable, which were runnable. We came to a ladder in the trail, and Jed teased about my "glistening calves" to the race photographer documenting the race at this trademark point. While Jed knew each trail, he didn't know the course and continued to second guess the race course and aid station locations, consistently wrong but eventually right. I didn't care, as long as we were on course and he could describe the trails, I was glad of the expertise.

Next aid station we saw Diana again, and she said the next two women were still just 3 or so minutes ahead. We scooted out and hit a very long, technical downhill. There were other races going on, and with marathon and 50k runners on the trail, it became somewhat congested. Jed started yelling ahead "50 mile racer coming on your left" which meant I had to run faster to get around. At last we hit a flat section that could have meant an accelerated pace, but with the rain and the multitude of runners, it was very slick, so I settled for gently tripping along from one side of the path to the other, occasionally skiing.

The next two aid stations were a blur. In and out amongst all the races, we were faced with another very long climb up an exposed, muddy service road. Too slick to run, we hiked the best we could. Jed did a good job of pointing out sites along the way (the Pacific Ocean is pretty awesome) and keeping me going strong at the same time. At last we reached Diana for the last time at mile 45. Again, we were back 2-3 minutes from the two women in front. Looking at the looming hill ahead, I left my last bottle with Diana, sure I wouldn't need it for the last hour. Chugging along, Jed in front now, he said "if you run this entire hill, you will catch them, I guarantee it." True or not, I had to try. I ran, in the sense that I wasn't walking, the entire 20-30 minute climb. One more aid station, I drank some coke, and Jed asked if I wanted to carry a bottle. "I'm outa here" I said and started to fly down the hill ahead. It was without trees to block the view, and up ahead I spotted my first victim amongst the marathon and 50k racers. Jed was beside me and I suggested he not let anyone know we're coming at this point. He knew better, and as we approached her we quieted a bit and breezed by. She looked up briefly, and then did a double take when she the color of my number. "Wow! Great job!" I could barely muster a reply, but acknowledged her best I could. I later learned it was Liza Howard, winner of Hard Rock 100 last summer.

I looked forward, and saw victim number 2. We continued to bomb the downhill and just as it flattened out, we caught her. Now Jed was giving me distance-to-go data. "One more mile! That's just 4 laps on the track!" I was starting to go into all kinds of debt, evidenced by my loud squawks with every breath I took. "Arms! Arms! arms!" and "Breathe! Breathe! Breathe!" Jed was yelling. "Three laps on the track", "Two and half laps". Ugh. I was starting to tie up. The road turned gradually uphill and I desperately wanted to see if either woman was coming back. The curve in the road hid the finish line until the last minute, and I bombed down the grassy field to complete the course. My time was not stellar, 8:47 (a mere HOUR behind winner Anna Frost), but I was pleased with my overall place of 6th.

Diana and Jed did a fabulous job getting me through the day, and I ended my 2010 season on a very positive note, feeling motivated for 2011.

100k World Championships 2010

2010-11-12T13:24:00.000-08:00

The Rock of Gibraltar

Gibraltar seemed and continues to seem a bit of an odd place to hold a 100k footrace. The longest stretch of road from the Spanish/Gibraltarian border to the tip of the main road in Gibraltar is about 3 miles, but the race officials managed to create a course that only used about half the distance, giving us an opportunity to become well acquainted with a 5k loop. Arriving 3 days before the race seemed ample time to review, and also allowed an entire country tour of the Rock with its charming "but do not feed" Barbary apes, crazy traffic, and a bajillion tourists, and 30,000 citizens (none of which had a clue that there was going to be a race, let alone a world championship).

Gibraltar Barbary Macaque

Normal pedestrian traffic on Main Street in Gibraltar

It was great having the team all together, with a few new faces, and minus some regulars. We all got on famously, running, shopping, eating, and touring together. Saturday afternoon was the traditional Parade of Nations. This year, the local organizing committee (LOC) had arranged some opening ceremony entertainment with local dancers and a marching band.

Parade of Nations

Assembly of the teams

Next morning, the team was up at 4:00, having breakfast and getting the supplies together for the aid station. At 5:00, we were delivered to the race start at the dock, where we chilled out on the cruise liner that served as housing for most of the teams.

I felt pretty good. I had gotten enough rest over the past few days, and my clock was reset to the time zone. My time goal was 7:45, but I felt that if I had a really great day I could pull of a 7:40, and if I had a tail wind for every loop all the way around, then maybe a 7:35! I had been feeling fairly comfortable at 7:25 pace during training, and was hoping that at my steady HR of 155, that I would actually be running 7:20 pace. I was all set to use my Suunto foot pod and HR monitor, when Lin broke the news to us that at the technical meeting it was announced that there would be no use of Garmins or Suuntos or any pace/distance measuring tools as they were afraid they might interfere with the chip timing mats. WHAT? WHAT???? It was no joke. I was planning on using the Suunto until I was asked to remove it (worth a yellow card), but while warming up I saw that NO ONE had a foot pod. I thought that rather than everyone abiding by the 'rule', the athletes would all use their normal stuff in protest, since we all knew that it wouldn't interfere. So rather than risk being asked to remove it later when my hands might not work, I took it off before the start. I still had my HR monitor, and I figured using the 10k markers during the race I would be able to figure out how I was doing.

At 6:30 sharp, the race was off. We had a bit of a contrived start that would land us on the approximately 5k loop after 4k of running. We headed straight down a road, came to a round about, went around and headed back on the other side of the road back towards the start. Before getting all the way back we went around another round about and headed back in the original direction. Seemed fairly straight forward and I was getting into a rhythm, when up ahead I saw the entire race had come to a dead stop. Unbelievable. Then the runners were directed to do the small loop one more time. Nice. Well, at least we were all doing the same wrong thing under the direction of race officials.

Finishing the extra loop, we eventually made our way onto the loop. My HR was between 155-160 and I felt good, but I didn't know how fast I was going. The lower part of the loop took us fairly straight until we came to the ship yards. Here we made a 90 degree right, went straight for about 100 meters, then left 90 degrees, then some lesser harsh turns until we made a 180 degree turn onto an up ramp. At the top of that, another 90 degree turn left, a bit of rolling terrain, and then another 90 degree turn left down a short steep hill. On this downhill was the first 10k post, but my watch said 43 minutes and I had no idea if the mark was 9k, 10k, 11k....

At the bottom of the short steep hill was about a 100 degree turn that was hard to make without swinging wide. Then it was flat for about a kilometer, a 90 degree turn right, then left, then voila - we were at the aid station! Dad and Lin were both ready to hand me either Gu-brew or water - I grabbed the brew, and heard Lion yell out to me that the race organizers would figure out how to get rid of 1k during the race. I hit the timing mat in 45:xx, still not sure how far I had run.

A perfect hand off! Photo by Matt's brother-in-law Darryl Schaffer

And so began the laps of the 5k loop. We had some head wind that change to cross wind that would change to tail wind, but nothing significant with the amount of change in the course. I tried to stay relaxed, balancing too fast with slowing down to get my HR down, only to have it back up again. Lap 2 took 22:xx minutes - a bit quick, so I tried to slow down a bit, but lap 3 was about the same. This went on for a number of laps, until about 8 (I think) and I had to make a pit stop. A 23 minute lap, and I thought the next lap would come down, but it was the beginning of my slow down. I still didn't know where I was,distance wise, and went through the marathon in 3:09. That would have been acceptable, if it were right. I just wasn't sure.

At the finish of each lap, just after I got my aid, a man with a clipboard and the ability to keep the race straight, was telling top runners there place. I started in 6th, 1 minute behind the leader, then 2 minutes behind the leader, then 3, and the lead continued to grow. The men's and women's races were unfolding before me. Lizzy Hawker of Great Britain was leading the women, with Elly Greenwood (also Great Britain by way of Vancouver, BC) in second, and Monica Carlin (Italy) in third. For the men, the US was running strong, with Michael Wardian, Chikara Omine, Matt Woods, and Chad Ricklefs holding very good positions. Carolyn Smith was not far behind me, shooting for her first sub-8:00 100k, and our third and final female Melanie Fryer was looking comfortable, but running on a not yet healed bruised metatarsal, her chances of finishing were very slim.

I moved into 5th place, but the lead was getting bigger, until 50k it was 12 minutes. The lap man stopped telling me about the lead, but continued telling me where the next woman ahead was. I went through roughly 50k in 3:46, with 10 laps to go. Now if I could not do worse than 4 hours for the 2nd half, I would at least have a new PR. Finally, the race organizers set about to correct their mistake by altering the 12th lap - taking out the climb. After each race entrants had completed their 12th lap, they continued in the original pattern. Men with clipboards and 2-way radios kept it very efficient and accurate. And when I was finally aware of my time and distance I realized I probably went through the marathon in 3:05 or 3:06, and the half in 3:41 or 3:42. Oops.

While I wasn't exactly tanked, I wasn't moving as easily now. It was becoming a battle of the wills. It was all I could do to not think about quitting. I counted my laps downward, and each time I started a new one I was counting how many more times I had to start a new lap before I had gone 20 feet. "Only 9 more starts!"

The crewing by my Dad and Lin continued seamlessly. They would see me coming 100 meters away, holding up my options. I would yell "juice" or "water" or "juice and salt" or "water and salt" and without missing a beat I would be on the other side of them, the whole US support team cheering me on. It gave me such a boost that I would momentarily forget how bad I felt. With 70k under my belt, I was saddened to hear Todd Braje and Melanie Fryer both cheering me on, and I knew they had dropped. Only 6 more laps to go, which meant 5 more starts.....

Hand off by Dad - photo by Darryl Schaffer

I kept drinking the Gu Brew, taking salt more frequently as my legs became more pained and crampy. My HR was still around 158-160, so I was able to run with some effort, but no extra. I had moved into 4th place due to some drops, but was then passed by a woman from Sweden who blew by like I was standing still. Wow. She looked fantastic.

One more lap down, 4 more starts. My original plan, before I went out too fast, was to pick it up for the last 4 laps. I bargained my way down to 3. I didn't pick it up at all, but with 2 laps to go, I was starting to smell the barn. Fortunately, as I was about a third of the way into it, I got to see the top 3 women who were now separated by about 20 yards. Elly was now in the lead, then Lizzie, and Monica. It was a beautiful sight!

Finishing up the penultimate lap, the lap counter said "5th place - next woman is 2 and half minutes behind you!" Okay, I thought, no way are you going to let someone run this last 5k 2.5 minutes faster than you. I began to really put the pressure on, and as I was running on the main stretch away from the aid station, I heard him yell again "she is only 2 minutes down!" He had cut across the course and chased me down to let me know, and boy did I appreciate that.

Very focused, I ran hard, and when I finally hit the last flat stretch I let it rip. I crossed the finish line, hit my watch at 2:46:01, and stopped. Oh my god, did that hurt. I was given water and a space blanket, then grabbed by a volunteer to be told that I was chosen for a random drug test. I got to wait to see Carolyn finish, as I was pretty certain she would break 8, and she delivered. 7:58 and change!

In hindsight, I have realized there is more than one way to take some risks in this race. I chose to risk going too fast, and the payback was a big slowdown and lost of suffering. Harder for me is to risk going too slow and run a fast and more inspiring second half. Patience. I must practice patience.

Las Navas de la Concepcion...

2010-11-09T11:59:00.000-08:00

...also known as Francisco Martin's hometown. Francisco is the founder of Strands.com and has supported my travel for running for two years now. When I learned I was going to Gibraltar, I decided to add some travel in Spain. I asked the native Spaniard for advice and tips on traveling in his country. He not only gave me his list of favorite restaurants in the cities I plan on seeing, but also extended an invitation to visit his hometown of Las Navas de la Concepcion. He told me that if I decided to go he would let 'them' know and all would be taken care of.

The drive from Madrid went well, traffic not too bad at all. The last 25 or so kilometers into the village let me know that it was probably not a place people come to and from with much frequency. The road was in excellent shape, but it was very twisty and hilly. Completely rural, agricultural, and quiet. We saw a multitude of oak and thought perhaps it was Pin Oak. However as we got close to Las Navas, we spotted a few trees that looked like they had red bark, like a madrone. But then we realized that it was stripped of its bark, and the trees were cork oak. It appeared to be quite a business in the area.

Cork Oak that has been harvested recently

We arrived to Las Navas about 6 hours after leaving Madrid, and found Plaza de la Constitucion, 2, with little difficulty.

Plaza de la Constitucion

As instructed, I introduced myself to the inhabitants (it was actually a super market) one of whom is Francisco's uncle, and one his cousin. With much hand gesturing and broken English and Spanish, it was all worked out who was who. His cousin Jose rounded up the manager of a small inn across the plaza, and we were soon given each a large room.

Francisco's Tio

Then we took a small stroll about the village, enjoying the ability of the children to play unsupervised, dogs to be unleashed, and to amble down the middle of the narrow streets without having to dodge cars.

At 8:00 the bar below our room was sounding lively, and we joined them there. I was quickly introduced to a number of regulars, most importantly, to Antonio, the mayor of the village. One young man, David, spoke enough English to make communication more possible.

I don't recall everyone's name, but the boy is Antonio Jr., my father Charles is next, and Antonio the mayor on my left, followed by Jose (Franciso's cousin) and another regular who wondered about my pace and times for races, so he had some running knowledge.

We took and posed for numerous pictures, then retired to the dining, where the Mayor Antonio presented my father and me with a bounty of gifts - beautiful walking cane made in Las Navas, a T-shirt with the town name, a pin with the town crest, two key chains, and 3 bottles of local wine.

Walking stick

Some local vino

Home made sausages

Jose, Antonio, Antonio Jr., David, and I were then served plates of cheese, ham, salami, pork cutlets, rabbit, and a small ham sandwich by our hostess, Rosa. We enjoyed a very nice glass of wine and some beer as well.

Excellent pork cutlets

Warm ham sandwich

Our hostess, Rosa

We all tried to learn something about each other. Jose's father has owned a supermarket here for over 30 years, and his father before him as well. Antonio enjoys hunting. David is a musician, and attributes his ability to speak some English to his singing, as he has learned many English songs. Antonio Jr. plays futbol. Most of the kids go to University after primary school, some return, some don't. It is very close knit and most people are related to someone here. The main source of income is usually associated with agriculture of any kind. The two plazas in town were lined with orange trees, and the olive industry is very large, as is the cork industry.

Antonio, the town doctor and nurse

When we were nearly finished eating, the local doctor and his nurse Lola came in and they too wanted to pose in a picture with me. The group then discussed and asked us if we would like to have breakfast and if so what time. They said they would have it for us at 9:30 a.m.

Next morning I went out for an easy run. It was so pleasant, so secluded and quiet but for the sounds of people walking to work, children going to school, roosters crowing. I meandered through the small town, and out a country road or two, passed some men laying bricks the traditional way, on a wall surrounding a cemetery. Ever since arriving in Spain I have been struck by the number of people who labor manually. There seems to be a lot less automation and a lot more sweat, which I find inspiring.

On to Gibraltar!

Madrid!

2010-11-03T11:57:00.000-07:00

Dad and I made it to Spain, after nearly missing our flight from Newark (always always always check the departure gate on the boards, NOT your boarding pass). We rented a car, and I went for the GPS option. What a wonderful invention! I only got off course a couple of times, but the lady inside the GPS always got me back on track. After trying to nap, and failing, I got out for a jog/walk. Madrid is not terribly busy, not too hard to be around in. After that we walked to the Prado - there is an Renoir exhibit there right now, and it did not disappoint.

La museo de Prado

After the musuem we strolled to the Plaza Mayor - every city should have one!

La Plaza Mayor

We had dinner reservations at a restaurant suggested to me by my friend and Strands sponsor, Francisco, and the early seating was 9:00. Being completely out of touch with west coast time, it didn't really matter when we ate, as long we did sometime. The food was tasty, the setting very old, and the wait staff very proper and kind.

Those support timbers were huge!

Very good bread and wine

A most excellent Spanish cheese

Lamb chops served on french fries was a yummy dinner!

Dad's Spanish tortilla - which is potatoes and eggs.

That ended day 1. I was up until midnight, and practically passed out trying to blog, so left it until now. I slept for 9 hours.

Twin Cities Marathon

2010-11-01T16:26:00.000-07:00

This was a day to remember. Good workouts, good rest, good health - and I had never run sub 2:46 here, but thought if I was ever going to, this was the day. I was up at 4:30 a.m., anxious to get ready for the race. I was excited and not at all nervous, but felt just a tiny bit of dread due to the pain I knew I was about to take on.

I caught the bus at 6:15, and sat with Susan Lokken. We chatted about fitness, readiness, goals, and expectations. We both wanted the Olympic Trials Qualifier, first and foremost. Anything else was icing on the cake. She had run in the low 2:40's here and was a multiple USATF Master's champion here.

The invited runners were dropped off at our holding ground - a church very close to the start line. I sat quietly with 100k Teammate Michael Wardian, and Strands friend, Mike Reneau. We stayed mellow, and at about 7:15, Wardian and I went out for a warm up. Everything felt great. Legs had energy and the temperature was cool, but not too cold. It was dry and calm. Eventually we all had to be out of the church, so I decided on my final attire - singlet with sleeves and gloves, but didn't need any other warm clothes.

I ran a number of strides, trying to keep the heart rate up for the start, and finally at 8:00, we were off! I knew what heart rate I could maintain for the duration (173) and hoped that the pace would fall in line with a sub-2:46. Many women went out ahead of me, but I stayed calm, my legs feeling a bit of a shock after standing at the start line for a couple of minutes.

Mile 1 came, and I hit my watch - 6:16. I thought that was okay, not exciting, but okay. A little downhill now, and then an up, and I looked at my watch - it still said 6:16. Oh good grief - I had hit the stop button instead of the lap button. Great. Now I wouldn't know my overall time. Should I start it at the next mile? Funny how the brain just stops working when running hard. I hit 'start' again, and relied on the overall pace on my beloved Garmin. From past experience (see my Napa Marathon report) I knew that to run 6:20 pace, I would have to average 6:16 on the Garmin. So, I continued to hit the lap button for my mile splits, and kept my eye on the overall pace. Miles 3 and 4 went by in 6:06 and 5:49, and mile 5 in 6:31. My heart rate was around 171, and I wanted to be a little careful not to get to 173 too soon.

I was soon running with a very nice group of women, all with a sub-2:46 on their minds. It was a great dynamic. Ruth Perkins, a young gal from Washington, seemed to be in control, suggesting different runners take the lead. Conversation was limited, but at one point she asked if any of us had kids. No one answered for a bit, and I said "I have a 24 year old". The gal next to me - yeah, you guessed it - said "I'm 24!"

We motored on, hitting the next miles in 6:07, 6:14, 6:16, 6:02. Heart rate hung in at about 170, 171. I was feeling great and having a blast. I was getting my bottles at the aid station, and making sure I got a good deal of the fluids down before I tossed it.

We closed in on Susan Lokken and her running companion at about mile 11. Our now bigger pack worked on for another couple miles - 6:04, 6:14, 6:13 - and went through the half at 1:21. This is right where I knew I had to be to even have a chance, so I was stoked, as I was not dying yet. Mile 14 we encountered a gentle climb, and I let the pack get away. My next few miles, a bit more solitary, with the pack just out of reach, were 6:18, 6:14, 6:17. The best part, was that my average was still around 6:12. I just need to maintain that pace to mile 20, and then not let it get about 6:16 for the last 6.

Mile 17 was 6:06 - so hanging in there, but starting to feel a bit rough. I passed a woman who was reduced to a walk. She tried to run again, but didn't have it. Mile 18 was 6:37, and I missed 19, but for the next 2 miles I averaged 6:19. As I crossed the Mississippi River, I was feeling a bit like toast, but either I got a second wind of my own, or there was an actual tail wind and I felt my legs revive.

The clock at mile 20 said "2:05" and some change. Aye aye aye. I knew I could but it would be close. I had to run a sub 41 minute 10k, after 20 miles at 6:12 pace, with the uphill challenges. Surprisingly, I had some wheels for the flat sections, and fairly clawed at the air on all the climbs. Ahead I could see Susan Lokken, and another woman, and thought that I may not catch them, but I might as well try. Miles 21 was 6:42 and miles 22 and 23 I averaged 6:32, mile 24 had a bit of flat and slight down, so I pulled out a 6:24. My pace had been slowly inching up, and at mile 24 was now 6:16. I could not afford to let it go up anymore. Mile 25 was 6:20, and my average held. Running pretty much blind by now, I flailed to the top of the last hill, and with an alarming sense of jarring, jolted my way down to the final stretch. I finally saw the finish line, and heard the announcer proclaiming Susan Lokken as USATF Masters Champion. When I was finally close enough to see the clock, it said 2:45:11. Depth perception on a good day is challenging, and I just didn't know how many seconds away I was from that clock, so I kicked in my 200 meter sprint mode and made it over the line in 2:45:46.

What a great feeling. I was so elated, and coach Bob was there at the finish to congratulate me. I was third Master, as Susan had passed the number 2 woman just at the end.

McKenzie River 50k

2010-11-01T15:02:00.000-07:00

Three short weeks after Where's Waldo, I found myself around a campfire near the start line for the McKenzie River Trail 50k. It was the night before the race and it was fun exchanging the normal jibes, but the fun story was the description of my latest bodily assault - the discovery of a fish tapeworm. Details are rather unsavory, so I will withhold specifics unless asked about. It was indeed from eating raw or undercooked fish, most likely (in my mind) from salmon. Friend Tommy Atkins asked me if I had named it, to which I replied "no, but my mom thinks I should". After some moments of silence Dan "Tapeworm" Olmstead said "I think you should name it Dan-O". And thus, my tapeworm was christened Dan-O.

Diphyllobothrium "Dan-O" latum

I slept well enough and woke to a promising day of clear skies and mild temperatures. Holding the course record of 3:58, naturally I wanted to run at least that fast, but I didn't particularly rest up for a fast day, as I had a marathon coming up in 3 weeks that was a priority. However, I didn't want Craig to reach his goal - which was to beat me. He didn't feel as if he was in sub-4:00 shape, so it could turn out to be a good race.

The start was moved this year, and an extra distance in the out and back section to make up for some course obstacles. After a good warm up we were lined up and set off on our merry way. The new start gave ample time to spread out before reaching the single track. Craig and I fell into a good pace together, and he fell in behind when we hit the trail. I was feeling pretty good and felt Craig slowly losing ground. By the time we reached Clear Lake I was fairly isolated. I could hear voices behind me and see no one ahead. I continued trying to put distance between me and the voices. Reaching the out and back section of the trail, I began seeing the early starters, and it was fun exchanging encouragements. At aid station one, I handed Tommy and gel and asked him to open it for me for when I came back through. I ran on into the extended out and back section which included a significant climb, finally seeing the lead men, including Dan-O the man, not the worm.

Reaching the turn around I gratefully turned to barrel back down the hill. I soon saw Craig leading a train of runners up. He playfully bowed as did the rest of the gang, giving me a sense of "oh brother". I encountered a few women, including Denise Bourosa, and Linda Samet, all looking strong. Back at the aid station, Tommy was ready with my gel. I choked it down on my way across the bridge, encountering a great deal of runners on their way out. The next section of trail was quite sweet going in the slightly downhill direction, and I focused on a good cruising pace. After getting to the end of the out and back, I was no longer greeted by runners, and there were no footsteps from behind. I kept checking my pace on the Garmin, disappointed, as usual, at the pace it was recording. I knew the trees and turns in the trail made for poor reception and I should just forget about it.

Through the cabins at Clear Lake and all the way to the west end of the lake, I ran alone, passing some cheerful early starters. Winding my way to the highway, I caught a glimpse of Win Goodbody's blue jersey, and focused on keeping ahead. I crossed the highway again, and made my way to the next aid station. The volunteers were awesome, helpful, and even opened my gel for me, as even if I am not in a frenzy I find them difficult to get into. And while I know they are so great at keeping energy levels up, I never feel like I won a prize by finally getting the contents in my mouth.

I crossed the river, and hit the next technical section, feeling decent, and alone again. With the aid station locations changed a bit, as well as the start and finish, I didn't really know how close I was to a sub-4:00 hour pace. The average on the Garmin was indicating that I was far enough off even with it's stingy nature, I was pretty sure it wouldn't happen today. The race was feeling a little uneventful, until I finally reached the Trail Bridge aid station, just as William Swint was catching me. I was surprised to see April and Phil - I was pretty sure they had started the race - helping at the aid station. They both had suffered some injury early on, and turned their race into a volunteer opportunity. This was fortunate for me, as I found out later. I left the aid station with William right behind me, and found out later that Craig was less than a minute back. April told him I had been there 15 minutes ago to see if she could deflate him a bit. Not that he believed her, but it was fun, none-the-less.

Mikio soon caught up to William and I, panting and exclaiming how hard he had to work to catch us. I offered the lead to William, but he declined, saying he just want to hang on as long as possible. I found myself running hard again, perhaps because I had someone pushing me, or maybe I was just having a good surge. At the next aid station, I fueled up and ran out, yelling to William and Mikio to hurry, but they did not respond. Alone again, I was getting anxious to get this over with. I was unsure but thought I had about 8 miles left. Finally at the last aid station, I caught one of the lead men, putting on a good death march. As soon as he saw me, he fell in behind. I asked him if he wanted to lead, and again, no, he just wanted to see if he could hang on. About that time, Mikio caught back up. I tried to run them both ragged, and we finally got to the last turn onto the gravel road close to the finish. I could see a climb ahead, and was pretty sure I could get out kicked by most male runners, so I knew I had to push as hard as I could from this point on. Mikio fell off pace, but my other companion answered by gradually pulling away ahead of me. Still wanting to keep ahead of Mikio, I did not let up. Cresting the small hill, I could see the finish and let my legs go as hard as they would. I crossed in 4:10 - not bad, not what I wanted time wise, but my times rarely are. It's one thing I enjoy in racing - setting the bar high. It is so rare to hit my target time, that it is super sweet when I do!

And, yes, I beat Craig - let's see what was his time? 4:19? And barely escaped being double chicked!

Where's Waldo 2010

2010-10-20T21:31:00.000-07:00

I wasn't planning on running Waldo this year, as I had committed to co-RDs Craig Thornley and Curt Ringstad that I would be learning the RD ropes, shadowing Curt and helping him mark the course, with the plan of me taking his place the following year. I had just finished White River 50 mile and was telling Craig what races I would enter that were in the Montrail Ultra Cup next year, when he asked if I would be interested in racing Waldo after all. I squealed on the inside, but calmly reminded him that I said I would be helping with the race, and I am a woman of my word. He pushed it a little more, and I said if he wanted me to, I would in a heart beat, and after he consulted with Curt, it was a done deal. Thus it was that I toed the line for my sixth and potentially final Where's Waldo.

The evening before the race was rich with friends offering support, love, and condolences over the recent loss of my husband Brian. I felt such gratitude, and there was no better place for me to be at that time.

Race morning was clear and cool and dark. I felt pretty good, energetic, positive. I enjoyed the camaraderie and pre-race energy. Sunsweet teammates Jeff Riley, Dan Olmstead, and Lewis Taylor were all donning numbers as well. John Ticer, my pacer and crew for the day, was there for instruction. I have him my bag with bottles and gels. We got started at 5:00 am sharp, and I ran the entire first climb, for the first time ever. I was stoked to feel that good, and had Joelle's CR splits on my brain. I cruised along the Skyline trail to the Maiden Peak trail all the way down to Gold Lake aid station. I was relaxed, feeling fine, and at 1:08. That wasn't particularly grand, but the day had just begun. Maybe I was being a little too relaxed?

I handed my lights to John, traded my empty bottle for a full one, and hit the trail for Fuji. I was again running sections I don't normally run, but not feeling like I was working too hard. Finally arriving at Fuji aid station up, I left my bottle with a volunteer to pick up on the way back down from summitting Fuji. My split here was also less than remarkable - 2:03 to Joelle's 1:57. But I was having fun! I got to the top, to the encouragement of Craig and Greyson, posed for a quick picture, then headed back down. Before I had gone 50 yards, here came Amy Sproston, looking very good. We encouraged each other in passing, and I focused on getting back to the Fuji aid station as quickly as possible. I met many other friends on my way down, which is one of my favorite things about this section of the race. I grabbed my waiting bottle, and hoped for a fast flight down to Mt Ray aid station. Behind me was Aaron - a friend of Amy's from the east coast, and we ran close to each other through the thick woods, steep down hills, through pothole meadow, until finally I had to take a bathroom break. I emerged from the bushes and surged the last bit to the aid station , just as Amy caught up to me. We got there at 3:22 - a far cry from Joelle's 3:12, and I realized I needed to let go of any CR obsessions and just stay focused and positive.

John was there with my bottles and offering anything else I might want. As quickly as possible, Amy and I left the aid station together, and took a couple of miles to get to know each other a bit. After reaching the Bobby Lakes trail, Amy pulled away, running ups and downs equally impressively. I, however, felt a bit sucky. I starting analyzing, and yes, I had a full plate the past few months, but the real problem for me was altitude and not training on the course. I knew it was early still and to just keep my wits about me. Turning north onto the PCT, I continued ambling on, looking for the Twins aid station signs, usually WAY too soon before the actual aid station. Thankfully this year there were no signs and suddenly it appeared around a bend in the trail. The volunteers were all over me, filling bottles, handing me gels, and reporting that Amy left 3 minutes ago. That didn't sound insurmountable, but I had no idea how she was feeling. I forged on, passing more early starters (go Erin and Annie!) eyes straining for Charleton Lake. I was pushing pretty hard, thinking it must be around the next corner. I finally arrived to one of the most electrifying aid stations of all. Craig was there again, asking how I felt. "A little tired, but not too bad." I 'posed' for a quick picture, then met with John. He had my bottles ready to go. Word on the street was that Amy was only 30 seconds ahead.

Charleton Lake - photo by Craig Thornley

I told John I was a little tired, but somehow he got my wheels turning. Shortly after, he spotted Amy ahead. We didn't speed up, just kept the good clip going. We soon caught and passed her. "John, just so you know, I am pretty sure I have never run this section this hard." I guessed we were at a low enough altitude in this section that I wasn't suffering from lack of oxygen, so definitely took advantage. We pushed the pace all the way to the aid station at 4290 - at 8:39 pace - the fastest I had ever run this section. Having a pacer was proving to be a good move. We made it out of the aid station of couple of minutes ahead of Amy.

John continued to remind me to take gels every 30 minutes, made sure I was drinking and taking salt. He would pull ahead and never let me relax. This is a long, seemingly unending section. Not so steep that it's all a hike, so many times John would break into a run, while I groaned inwardly but tried to follow suit. Occasionally I would look back, as would John, but there was no one in sight. Finally cresting to the Twin's saddle, we picked up downhill momentum all the way down to the aid station. Again, we were all business, filling bottles, bellies, and then flew out. The downhill felt good going south on the PCT, and soon I saw Victor Ballesteros ahead. He heard me coming and picked up a faster gear, dropping John and I for good.

The Pacific Crest Trail was slightly uphill now until we reached the Maiden Peak aid station. Finally we were greeted by voluteers, one of which was KMTR's weather man Joseph Galbraith (fun seeing famous people!) who ran ahead with my bottles to fill them and get us ready to get out of the aid station and on our way on the final, long climb up to Maiden Peak.

John led me out, and pulled me and pulled me all the way. It was quite a struggle, one of the slowest ascents I'd ever had. Still, I didn't hear anyone from behind. Finally getting near the summit, we were greeted by Hannah Shallice, who cheered and pointed us in the direction to the top. Nearly there, Aaron was on his way down. We exchanged encouraging words, and soon afterwords I heard him encourage another runner. Crap! It must be Amy gaining on me! I made it up to the top, checked in with Kelly Woodke, turned around and in about 1 minute ran into Amy on her way up! Yikes!

I carefully danced my way down through the loose big gravel. We passed by Hannah and onto Leap of Faith trail. Incredibly focused, I made it through the technical sections onto the scree hill and went as fast as possible. I was barreling downhill like a woman possessed, and just above the Maiden Lake aid station was greeted by Ed and Julie, the blowing of the warning horn that we were coming. Barb Ringstad and other lovely ladies greeted us. I was so concerned about being caught by Amy that I wouldn't even let Barb hug me. I grabbed at gels, frappacinos and Gu Brew, and as we were leaving, heard the warning horn, letting me know that Amy was nearing.

The slight uphill out of there about blew my wad. John said "My coach once asked me 'how bad do you want it?'" and my inside little voice said "not very bad" but as soon we hit the downhill section, my legs started to roll. I gained momentum and was able to push hard all the way to the PCT one more time. John continued to pull me along, only glancing back occasionally. I was afraid to look and asked John if he could see anyone, but he never did. Just like the 4290 section, I ran harder than I ever had in this section. I felt such relief when we reached the sign for the trail head, and turning toward the finish, cursed the head wind that always seem to be there at the end of this race. I crossed the finish line in 10:52, only 4 minutes slower than my fastest time, and a whole 29 minutes slower than Joelle's CR.

As I caught my breath and enjoyed being done, Amy finished just a few minutes behind. We had had quite a day and had given the spectators and volunteers a little excitement.

Brian Lance Arbogast

2010-10-19T19:46:00.000-07:00

April 10, 1945 — Aug. 9, 2010

Brian Lance Arbogast died Monday, Aug. 9, after a four-year battle with brain tumors. He was 65. Brian was born on April 10, 1945, in Vancouver, Wash., to Levi Arbogast and Bonnie Smothers. He grew up in Northern California with his brother, Keith, and his sisters, Cynthia and Ronda. In 1965, he married Christine Elmendorf, with whom he had two sons, Ezra Jason and Zachary Orion. Brian and Christine later divorced.

From 1965 to 1968, Brian served as a Russian translator in the U.S. Air Force. In 1974, he graduated cum laude from Southern Oregon College with a bachelor of arts degree in chemistry. Brian married Meghan Loree Canfield in 1985, with whom he had a daughter, Ruby Marie.

Brian was in the field of mass spectrometry at Oregon State University for 36 years, and was a highly respected expert at the regional and national level. Brian had a true leadership position in the Agricultural Life Sciences Mass Spectrometry facility, and was the pillar of its operation. Never shy of developing analytical approaches, Brian pushed the technical boundaries, and put in extra time to tackle and solve challenges. He made significant contributions to the successes of many research programs and the careers of former students and postdoctoral researchers in the mass spectrometry facility. Brian’s dedication to providing exceptional services, in association with his outstanding knowledge of chemistry and analytical sciences, was invaluable to the facility, and resulted in many publications and millions of grant dollars awarded to the university. Taken together, Brian Arbogast demonstrated an exceptional level of competence and accomplishments in all three areas relevant to the mission of the mass spectrometry facility: research, service and education. In 2009, he was awarded the OSU Outstanding Faculty Research Assistant Award.

Brian was an avid and talented trumpet player from a young age. He loved to “noodle” with jazz radio, and was the trumpet soloist for the Hilltop Big Band for many years. An enthusiastic mountain biker and runner, Brian completed several triathlons. At the age of 61, six months after his first brain surgery, he won his division in the Beaver Freezer Triathlon. He shared his interest in athletics with Meghan, and was her key support provider during her many ultramarathon races. Brian is survived by his mother and father, sisters and brother, nieces and nephews, wife and three children. He will be dearly missed by his family, colleagues and the musical and distance-running communities.

Donations in his name can be made to the University of California San Francisco Brain Tumor Center.

White River 50 Mile

2010-10-02T16:15:00.000-07:00

Theresa was asking me about the upcoming 50 mile race - and after she realized it was not that crewable, and no pacers were allowed, asked "should I run it?" Thus began a very fun weekend for two girls on a bit of an adventure. I had run White River 50 Mile race twice, and had not been even a little satisfied with my performances. But this year would be different. I had been ultra running now long enough to feel like I was 'getting it', and had been running strong all year. My goals were to break 8 hours (my previous times had been in the 8:30s), feel strong throughout, and especially finish running hard.

The evening was spent discussing various strategies for Theresa, who had last run 50k nearly a year ago, and whose longest run this calendar was the Boston Marathon in April. But she is strong, steady, and knows how to pace herself. For my strategy, I studied splits from the fastest times for women (hey, why not, right?) and inked them on my hand, hoping to be somewhere in the vicinity.

Race morning we were up eating oatmeal and getting ourselves ready. It was crisp outside, but not too cold. At the start, it was the usual fun connecting with the ultra community, especially sometimes training partner and friend, John "Hot Newman" Ticer who's goal was to not get chicked my me. On the men's side, Tony Krupicka showed up to deflate a few other top male runners, and the women's side, Amy Sproston and Pam Smith were the folks I knew the most about. Finally shedding the warm-ups and standing at the start, RD Scott McCoubrey described the course. "The race is pretty simple. See that mountain over there (pointing high at the range to our left)? You're going to run up to the top of that and then come back. Then you'll run to the top of that mountain (pointing high at the range on our right)? Pretty straight forward." He then sent the chuckling runners off.

I fell in behind Amy, not wanting to get too excited, keep in control. This first section is flat and twisty, and continued on through the beautiful thick woods to the first aid station. I grabbed a gel and a big drink of water, letting Amy and another woman, Ashley from Colorado, slip away. I was soon at the back of a train as we began the very long ascent. The train eventually became more and more condensed, and conversations flowed. I could see John in front of me, pulling ahead. I followed my urge to pass the train I was in, putting me in front for the women. I wasn't confident I would last, but I felt very good here, and felt myself gliding along, gapping one train and closing in on another and passing it as well. Pretty much alone for awhile, Ashley eventually caught me and we chatted and ran together for many more of the miles up. It was her second 50 miler, and I thought she might be in trouble when she asked if we were on the second climb yet and had not even finished the first.

The lead men started to appear on their way back from the turn-around, with Tony in 2nd place. Thinking he was being followed closely, I started to say "Good job guys!" but upon seeing only Tony, stopped at "Good job Guy" at the same time he said "Good job Meghan". I was a bit embarrassed that he knew my name and I called him "Guy". I finally arrived at the turnaround, filled my bottle, grabbed a gel, and seeing John, started back down behind him. Amy was not far behind Ashley and I. I saw more and more folks I knew on the out and back, and was very excited to see that Theresa was looking good and having fun.

We hit the water only aid station, I grabbed a gel and John and I scooted out. Ashley had fallen off the pace, so I was in the lead with no one challenging me at the moment. We hit the long switch back downhill section and I was enjoying the pace. I kept checking my time compared to Susannah Beck's record pace splits. I thought I must be getting close to the half way mark as I her split came and went, but it was not to be. It was an 'aha' moment for me. Fast is fast. Susannah Beck is fast. Very fast. Ah, genetics. I felt like I wouldn't even be in the same zip code if she were in the race by the time we reached the start/finish area for the beginning of the second part of the race.

But it was a race, and I was keen on keeping my position, regardless of the time. The first climb after the flat section was a burner. "That was special" I yelled back to Ticer, to which he mumbled "uh-huh". I felt strong and steady, ran when it seemed faster than hiking, and made it to the next aid station with less effort than in the past. I grabbed a bit of food, filled my bottle, and got out quickly, Ticer right behind. We picked up one more in our train, Matt Simms, and continued strongly all the way to Suntop.

John Ticer and I near the summit of Suntop - photo by Glenn Tachiyama

Excited to be at the final summit, I grabbed beverage and gel and hit the road. The long downhill ahead was beckoning, and I hoped to put some distance on John here. It was not to be. He caught me, and encouraged me to keep up. I was running fast, but soreness in my feet was starting to build. Not that it would have mattered as I watched John gently glide away. Dang - he was running well!

My stomach was urging me to jump in the bushes but somehow I convinced it to stay together. I made it to the bottom of the 7 mile downhill, and John was no where in sight. I had glanced over my shoulder and didn't see anyone in pursuit. I filled bottles at the final aid station and set about to put my plan in place - run hard for the last 6.6 miles. I was already out for over 7 hours, so my sub 8 goal was looking bleak. But my legs did feel strong and I pushed hard. Twisting in and out, over roots, eyes stretching ahead, I tried not looking at my watch more than every 5 minutes. This proved to be more difficult that I thought, and the final miles seemed to go on FOREVER. I was pleasantly surprised to catch a glimpse of John just ahead and when I finally caught him, he was thinking the same thing - will this ever end? I went ahead of him and kept pushing with him on my heels. Each bridge we crossed seemed just like the last bridge we had crossed, like some cruel joke. At last we reached the road that would take us to the finish. "Go ahead John! Don't wait for me." But he would not leave, and continued to egg me on to the finish. As I finally picked it up, he muttered "now that's what I'm talkin' about". We crossed the finish line in 8:10. Pretty far off from my goal, but a good 20+ minutes ahead of my best time here.

John and I finishing - photo by John Wallace III

Scott was there with warm congratulations, and I spent the next few whiles recovering and waiting for Theresa to finish. I thought she would be in under 10 hours, and at about 9:30 I heard John yell "It's Theresa!" We hooted and hollered her in, and I was pleased to see her Sunsweet Jersey covered in dirt and felt like I had handed her the torch for keeper of the dirty jersey. She had tumbled at least 6 times, but managed to be 7th woman and rake in $400. Pretty good for racing on a whim and somewhat "off of the couch".

Theresa Ridgway finishing 7th! Photo by John Wallace III

I was satisfied in many ways, but came away still wanting to break 8 hours on this course. Time to hit the gym.

Western States 2010

2010-07-04T22:46:00.000-07:00

Western States 2010 arrived and I was ready. Training had gone well, racing had been good, I was tapered and recovered from a cold just in time. Craig Thornley, training partner and mentor, told me in May "just go win this thing!" I had several friends believing I could, and although no amount of anyone's wishing or predicting can make it happen, it was extremely flattering and boosted my confidence. I decided to take a risk early and try to stay with Craig from the start. His fast splits were for running 18:30, much faster than my best of 20:50, but I was ready to give it a go.

Morning temps were just a bit nippy, but the forecast was for the 90's later. The sky was clear and filled with stars. I found Craig and the Jiz (Andy Jones-Wilkins) near the start line. We greeted many of our running companions and competitors as the clock wound down, and crunched in close while Tim Twietmeyer and Gordy Ansleigh each said a few words before the horn sounded.

Craig, myself, AJW - photo by Monkey Boy

The gun went off, and I stuck like glue to Craig. He was already running sections I would normally hike but I was committed to trying. The altitude was having it's usually affect on me, but it seemed that it wasn't so much for everyone around me. Joelle Vaught, Nikki Kimball, and Devon Crosby-Helms all glided by seemingly unaffected, while my lungs burned and legs protested. I hung on to Craig's pace for about 2 miles, then let him pull ahead. Reaching the final steep climb before the summit, I began to hear the haunting sound of Chris Thornley's gong, beckoning us up into the sun. He was offering a mallet to anyone who wanted a go, and I was happy to give it a go.

At the top, I was relieved to find as my legs unfolded they weren't wrecked by my ridiculous early effort. It wasn't long before we were fumbling and sliding through the snow fields. I remained cautious, nevertheless, I took a few sliders, burning my skin in the process. The snow was very icy! As I continued pussy-footing through, Sunsweeter Alan Abbs came galloping by as if he were running on pavement. I scolded him for passing me so early. The snow and streams filling the trail continued on. Any attempts early to avoid wet feet were abandoned early, and I hoped I wouldn't end up up with blisters.

Just past the summit of Emigrant Gap - photo by Olga

Reaching the beginning of the snow course, an altered route created due to the difficulty of access for the aid stations in the snow, we began running on a gravel road that was basically down hill for 3 miles. I caught and passed Alan, teasing him for going to fast. I was not in a lot of company, and there were no women around. I guessed there were 4 women ahead - Tracy Garneau, Joelle Vaught, Nikki Kimball, and Devon Crosby-Helms. At the aid station I ate a gu, took an S!Cap, and had my bottles filled with Gu Brew. No one told me my place or how far the women ahead were, so I guessed they were pretty far. We had more road now, and I could see Simon Mtuy ahead. The road went on for several miles, and even though we were lower than the original course, I still struggled, anxiously awaiting the heavier air of lower elevation. Simon maintained his distance, and we caught at least one runner before the final turn to the next aid station. I had been keeping up with Gu and S!Caps, so just refilled my bottles, and finally hit the Poppy Trail.

The trail was awesome. Relatively flat, twisty, soft, tree covered, and easy on the eyes. I was loving it. I slowly reeled in a runner or two, and was caught by a runner, who chose to stay behind and have me set the pace. Eventually we broke out of the trees into the sun, and I was surprised at how it was heating up. We headed up a long grind of chopped and chewed up trail, me leading with a train behind. I knew we were close to Duncan Canyon aid station when I saw Glenn Tachiyama taking photos. I yelled out "Hey Glenn! I'm still clean!" referring to the big mess I was last year after my face plant.

A Clean Me! Photo by Glenn Tachiyama

Arriving at the Duncan Canyon aid station, I was happy to see Dan and Theresa. Theresa was there with the facts (I was behind Craig by about 4 minutes) and was indeed 5th woman, with Nikki and Devon not too far ahead. I shed gloves and arm warmers, filled my bottles, and headed out.

Duncan Canyon can be hot, but the temperatures were still fairly mild. I wound my way along, finally hitting the downhill into the canyon. The creek at the bottom was deeper than I remember seeing it, and one runner was standing in it, unsure of how to cross. I plowed through, managing to stay upright. The cold water felt good, even if it did fill my shoes. Once on the other side, I had 2 runners behind me, content to let me set the pace. We caught another runner, and on the downhill I was patient for not very long, before I asked to go around. I floated down the rocky trail, and ran into Ian Torrence who was having difficulties. His cheerful demeanor remained, nonetheless. Another stream crossing then the long steep climb out. I introduced myself to the runner who had stayed with me since before Duncan Canyon aid station - Brad from Massachusetts. It was his first 100 miler, and he was a little worried about his knee holding up. We stayed together a bit longer, then I pulled away in a water filled trail, plowing through it without regard for the wetness. Ahead I spotted Devon, and felt as if I would be catching her soon. Finally hearing the festive sounds of Robinson Flat aid station, I ran over the snow mounds, getting off course slightly, then finding the flagging one more time, crossed the bridge into the welcoming crowds. Bev Anderson-Abbs, sidelined with a knee injury, gave me a shout out, commending me on my work thus far. I handed my bottles to the aid station folks, and had my first weigh in. 120 lbs - up 4 lbs from the day before. I attributed it to my water logged shoes and scale inconsistency, and I was feeling good enough, so they let me go. Laurie Thornley was eagerly offering to fill my bottles, and I assured her that was done. Crew member Ed Willson was ready with some chocolate milk and PB and J, plus the all important stats. He gave me all the women's splits, but I need to know where Craig was, as he was my theorhetical 'pacer'. He was 4 minutes ahead, so not gapping me further. Tracy was 22 minutes ahead, Joelle a few minutes back from her. Nikki was 4 minutes ahead, and Devon was in eyesight.

I left the warmth of the supportive crowd onto the road, up several mounds of snow, trying not to waste energy pushing the pace on the soft surface. Winding up towards Little Bald Mountain, I finally caught up to Devon. She was having stomach issues, and while explaining them we followed the footsteps up a direction I didn't think made sense. But since there were footsteps, we kept going, until 3 men came running back, saying it was the wrong way. After contemplating the situation for a moment or two, we turned back and eventually found the correct way. I should have known better from the past. I started down, with a train of 4 runners behind. We ran the switch backs comfortably. At the bottom, Devon easily glided out of sight, while I tried to keep my breathing in control, still struggling with altitude. I found myself running along side Tim from Colorado, and we chatted all the way to Miller's Defeat aid station. I was updated there with only that I was breathing down Devon's neck, so assumed the other gal's had been through much earlier. The 2.7 miles into Dusty Corners eventually came to an end, into a welcoming aid station, with Dan and Theresa ready to meet my every need. I drank chocolate milk, nibbled a sandwich, and asked Theresa to fill my bandana with ice, as it was heating up. My bottles were filled with ice and Gu Brew, and I shuffled down the road.

Coming into Dusty Corners - Photo by Olga

Turning onto Pucker Point Trail, I was coming into my struggle zone. I tried to relax and float, but I didn't feel very good. I took another S!Cap (I had been taking it at least once per hour) and pushed on. I was completely alone and wishing the trail would end. It was seemingly the longest section in the race. Eventually I caught and passed Chikara Omine, apparently feeling even worse than I. I heard another runner coming behind me, and hoped it wasn't a woman. It was Tim from Colorado again. He let me set the pace for quite awhile, then offered to pull for awhile. I hung on for awhile, then let him pull ahead. I was still feeling crummy, so took another S!Cap and more Gu. Eventually hitting the gravel road to Last Chance, I was able to cruise downhill into the aid station. Another weight check - 121 - high, but I told them that was my weight at Robinson Flat, that I was taking salt, and that I felt okay. Bottles and bandana filled with ice, I was once again on my way, looking forward to the next downhill section.

I hit the "Precipitous" trail down to the swinging bridge at the bottom of Deadwood Canyon, not as lively as I had hoped, but no major complaints. My legs were holding up and I didn't have any major blisters or hot spots. It was heating up in the canyon, but not unbearably. There was no one within sight or hearing distance. I glanced at my watch when I reached the bridge, 12:48, and gave myself a generous 40 minutes to get up to the Devil's Thumb aid station - an incredibly long, slow, steep climb. About half way up, I heard a "Hello!", looked up, and saw Devon looking down on me. "Hey - what's up?" She was in some trouble with breathing difficulties and unable to eat or drink. When I caught up to her, I assured her the aid station folks were fix her up. She told me Nikki was just ahead, which surprised me. I hiked and jogged on up, and saw Nikki just before the top. I got there in 37 minutes, which I was content with. Once there, I weighed in - 120 - took another S!Cap and Gu, got my bottles filled, drank some coke, and ran out, encouraging Nikki to come along.

Ahead of me, Simon was gently loping along with his long legs. Before the next long descent into El Dorado canyon, I moved ahead of him, and began to let myself fly with the gravity. I enjoyed it from a subjective standpoint, but I felt nauseous. I kept downing the fluids, and took more S!Caps. I felt pretty much alone, until I caught Matt Simms. We chatted briefly, and reached the bottom of the canyon about the same time. After refilling again, I began the long hike up to Michigan Bluff. Matt stayed with me about half way, and we caught and passed a few runners along the way. One runner passed me running, which was impressive in this section, but when he started vomiting while running, I wasn't as impressed. Next time I saw him was sitting in the only creek on the climb out, cooling his core. Afterward, he was back to his jogging, but seemed to have his stomach under control. I felt fairly decent now, and looked at my watch. It was nearly 3:00 now, and I had mentioned to my crew how cool it would be for me to get there by 3:00. I wasn't going to make it, but certainly the earliest I had ever been there. Finally seeing the landmark "U" tree (a tall evergreen that bifurcates from the main trunk into a "U" shape), I ran the rest of the way into Michigan Bluff. Olga was there, and asked me "what did you do to those girls?" to which I replied "they did it to themselves".

Climbing out of El Dorado Canyon to Michigan Bluff - photo by Olga

I weighed in again - 121. So I was maintaining a steady weight. My crew was all there now - Theresa worked on getting my bandana ready, Dan handed me the chocolate milk, I turned my nose at the sandwich and Ed wiped my legs off. I was in third place, and Craig was again, 4 minutes ahead, having stopped for a generous rest and downright pampering from his crew. Jeff Riley came out and he, Theresa, Ed, and Dan ran me up the street. The crowd was again SO enthusiastic, it carried me out.

Craig "Lord Balls" Thornley and his Courtiers

Once on Gorman Ranch Road, I kept running the flats and downhills, looking forward to hiking the climbs. I caught and met for the first time Justin Angle. We chatted for a bit, he not having such a great day, but he pulled ahead as we hit the trail, and vanished from sight once we hit the trail down into Volcano Canyon. Alone again I focused on soft landings, and keeping the nausea at bay best I could. Reaching Volcano Creek, I waded across the creek, foregoing my normal full submersion, as I was not unbearably hot and didn't want to take the time. I was soon at the bottom of Bath Road, where Ed and Theresa were waiting with good cheer and enthusiasm. Theresa stayed a few steps in front, pulling me along and not letting me get lazy. The plan for arriving at Forest Hill were to get some soup, coke, fill my bottles, get weighed in, and get going. As I arrived, I heard Nikki Kimball's name being called, and later realized that they had mistaken me for her. While I was getting my things, Rory Bosio came running in - she was doing great in her first 100, and I was happy to see her.

My crew was working hard on getting me focused and running again, and so we were finally running down to the California Street section. I saw many friends before we hit the trail, including Craig's crew, who encouraged me to catch him. It was so great finally having Theresa to run with. We ran pretty quick until the first uphill, and I felt like I got hit by a truck. UGH. I complained and apologized to Theresa for going so slow, and she would have none of it, telling me I was doing great. I could hear Rory behind us, and managed to hold her off, although we arrived at Cal 1 aid station at the same time. While looking over all of the food, I mentioned that I hadn't been eating much and nothing looked good, and one of the volunteers took it seriously enough to insist that I eat something. I grabbed a PB and J quarter, and nibbled. It was sticking in my mouth, and I didn't want more. And as if Brian were actually there, he said "One more bite! You have to eat if you are going to finish." I obliged, knowing he was right, and Theresa and I were on our way again.

Simon and his pacer were not far from us, and through the next 2 aid stations we exchanged leads back and forth, enjoying the camaraderie. Theresa knew I was struggling with nausea, so continued telling me stories and updating me on her life, while I silently worked on keeping my stomach together. I lamented to her that I was feeling slow, and thought I was going to have a 4 hour split to the river. When I finally did the math correctly, I realized I was off by an hour, and my demeanor immediately changed. Low three hours for me was faster than I have run this section. Close to the river, I could hear Ed yelling from the other side. We were both very excited to have made it to the river by 7:30 ish.

Theresa and me at the River - photo by Gary Wang

After another weigh in, we made our way down to the boat, and Theresa and I got a ride over quickly. Again, my crew was doing their best to keep me focused and get going. I had a little potato soup, put my light on my head, put my vest on with S!Caps, a spare light and more Gu. My entourage and I headed for the Green Gate, with Simon not far ahead. Dan would break into a jog when the road wasn't so steep, and Theresa and I followed suit, but I would pull the plug when it felt too hard.

At the Green Gate, I needed no aid, and just as Dan and I were ready to head down the trail, I spied Caren Spore right behind me. Stunned, I said "What are you doing here?" I had not seen her all day, and figured I was well ahead. Swallowing the humble pie, I looked at Dan and said "we have to go NOW!" Knowing that Caren's strength is running up every hill, and her weakness is not much momentum on the down, we hit the downhills with enthusiasm on Dan's part and fear on mine. The air was cooling and my stomach not as queasy, but not golden. Dan told me a few stories, and kept the pace honest. His natural speed and foot placement was keeping me focused. I put my feet where his just left. If he ever pulled too far ahead he eased up just a bit. He coached me on the uphills ("use your glutes!") and reminded me when it had been 30 minutes since my last Gu. I was still popping S!Caps, which would ease my nausea.

Ahead I was surprised to see that in my attempts to outrun Caren, we had caught up to Joelle Vaught. I told Dan we didn't need to chase her down, but keep the steady effort. In a few minutes we caught her. She was in good spirits, but tired from the long day. We cruised by, and in short order, caught Rory. She too, was running out of gas, but we encouraged each other on. By the time I got to Auburn Lake Trails aid station I was in 2nd place, and feeling on fire. The weigh-in caused a hiccup, as I was now 123. I tried to assure the folks that yes, I had been taking S!Caps, yes, I had been peeing, and would you please let me go I just got in to 2nd place!?! The man most concerned asked if he could watch me actually take an S!Cap, he would let me go. Happy to oblige, I downed one and out we went.

Now it was pretty dark, so when we caught the next runner/pacer, it wasn't clear who it was. I asked Dan "is that Craig?" and he didn't think so. We got right on their heels and when the pacer said "let us know when you want by." It was indeed Craig and pacer John Ticer. Craig was having a pretty bad patch, and I teased him when I went by with a "Let's go honey!" He cheered us on, and we kept pushing the pace, as I was still worried about Caren catching us. Brown's Bar aid station was loud, and we got out quickly, heading down the steep rocky trail to the quarry road next to the river. Once there I was surprised to find myself running the uphills and feeling pretty decent. We kept a steady effort even up the mile long rocky climb, and then the trail to highway 49. I was pretty stoked now, feeling like 2nd place was a real possibility.

My crew and Craig's were all that I could hear and see when we came into the aid station, a mere 7 miles from the finish. Quickly in and out, Dan and I forged on. We ran fairly silently, me focused on his foot placement, and he sensing where I was and not letting the distance between us ever get too far. Approaching the descent to No Hands Bridge, Dan saw the lighted spectacle for the first time, surprised. At the aid station I was grabbing a Gu when I saw Ed and Theresa - what were they doing here? I anticipated seeing them no sooner than Robie Point. Ed said "Nikki was 5 minutes back at highway 49." Yikes! I gulped the Gu and water, and we headed across the bridge. Dan reined me in not wanting me to blow up in my attempt to put more space between us and Nikki. We had a good steady pace all the way to Robie Point, and for once it actually didn't feel that long. There were no headlights behind us, but I wasn't taking chances. We started running up the road until it got real steep, walked for a bit, then started running again, meeting Ed and Theresa who said Nikki was 4 minutes back at No Hands.

I kept running and saying "I just need to get to the white bridge", and finally, there it was. I opened up my stride and cruised to the track. I hit the nice soft surface and turned on whatever after burners I had. Having no idea what my time was, I was tickled to see 19:15 as I rounded the track. The seconds were ticking, so I went hard to keep it at the 15.

A rather maniacal finish - photo by Olga

Tim Twietmeyer was working the finish line, and I'm pretty sure he had no idea what I was talking about when I told him that I like his model better than what I just ran. He was very successful racing/winning by biding his time early in the race, then picking off runners in the latter portions of the race. Even thought I did pick some off, I suffered through sections that I would rather cruise and enjoy.

Me telling Tim I need to run like him next time. Photo by Olga

As part of the hyponatremia study, my blood was sampled for sodium, and even though I had at least 25 S!Caps during the day, I was still low. I think if I had heat trained I may have not lost so much.

Dan and I staying up waiting for Craig...photo by Dan's Mom!

All in all, my best Western States ever. I feel like maybe I finally 'got it', but at 49 years old, time is running out. I will be back next year, still racing hard, and not acting my age.

"Dear Meghan....Take Five"

2010-06-15T02:00:00.000-07:00

This is the fifth in a series of synchroblog posts regarding the Western States Endurance Run (WSER).

Dear Ask an Ultrarunner,

I'm new to the sport and have been watching any relevant ultramarathon movie and reading every popular ultrarunning magazine article and blog that I come across. Rather than winning lots of high profile races every year, it has become clear to me that the quickest path to stardom and sponsorship is developing a top notch training gimmick. Heroic feats of endurance, competitive eating, barefoot running, and sexy, high mileage training logs are already taken. Can you recommend a gimmick for a budding young ultra star? I am confident that given an appropriate publicity stunt, I can easily handle the second requirement -- criticizing other gimmicks as such.

Otto Indulgence

Otto - I am confused - can you tell me why you want to be an ultra runner? For stardom and sponsorship? If you want to be a REAL star, get out there, train hard, and win some races. The media stars are stars to the uninformed masses who in reality have few aficionados in the ultra running community. Actions speak louder than words and gimmicks.

Having said all that, you could wait until you're really old, like 49, and have some really good performances, then talk write a book called "Age Is Just A Number". Oh wait, maybe that is going to be MY gimmick.

Dear Ask an Ultrarunner,

I recently read Douglas McChristopher's "Freedom to Run Free Like You Really Should Run." What an awesome book! In this Homeric tale, McChristopher recounts how he traveled to Chico to run in the footsteps of the Sierra Nevada Pale Feet, a reclusive group of runners descended from an ancient warrior tribe whose existence revolved around running. The Sierras don't just run, they ran backwards. They drink massive amounts of malted beverages, fuel themselves with pumpkin seeds and fashion their own "toe shoes" out of pumpkin vines. After reading McChristopher's operatic ode to running, I decided to follow the author's lead and adopt the Sierra's methods. Amazingly, ever since I started running backwards, I've been completely free of injuries. I've finished five ultras, running them all backwards and using pumpkin seeds and pumpkin pie as my only fuel. My times are slower than they used to be, but I feel better than ever! I'm wondering what you think of McChristopher's book. Have you read it? Have you tried running backwards? Any plans to attempt a backwards Western States?

Sincerely,

Ass Backwards

AB,
No, I haven't read it, and no I haven't tried running backwards, and no, no attempts to a backwards Western States. But your enthusiasm inspires me! So far, my age isn't slowing me down, so maybe I should take up backward running so I can finally take it down a notch. Or, better yet, maybe I'll take up Parkour

Dear Ask an Ultrarunner,

I am so excited about the field this year. Seems like each year Western States has the best field ever and this year is no exception. You guys all being students of the race (and one of you the two-time defending champion) who are your top five picks for the men and women?

Thanks.

Jimmy The Greek

Jimmy,

I don't put any store into predictions, but it seems likely that the winner will come from one of the five following women and men.

For women -

Devon Crosby-Helms
Tracy Garneau
Nikki Kimball
Joelle Vaught
and Yours Truly

For men -

Hal Koerner
Tsuyoshi Kaburaki
Anton Krupicka
Jeff Roes
Jez Bragg

Craig Thornley
Andy Jones-Wilkens
Hal Koerner

"Dear Meghan..." Take Four

2010-05-18T02:00:00.000-07:00

This is the fourth in a series of synchroblog posts regarding the Western States Endurance Run (WSER).

Pooped Out asks: I'm a first 25% of the pack ultrarunner who prepares himself well for the one 100 miler I run each year. At least I think I prepare myself well. Everything goes well until the last 30 miles. At that time my perceived effort is huge, yet I'm barely moving. I can't run any uphills, and even on the flats I struggle. So, my question is how does one prepare for the last thirty of a hundred mile race.

PO,

I would need a lot more information in order to really help you, but I'll try a few different scenarios that might be leading to the problem or solution. You obviously train yourself well for the first 70 miles of the 100 miler, but what good is that? Do you do any training that remotely simulates running 30 miles on tired legs? I personally find that back to back long runs help me get ready for the last long pull of a 100 mile race. Do you continue to feed yourself appropriately from the start of the race? Getting behind in nutrition can set you up for an everlasting slog-fest late in the race. I have passed a few such victims just after No Hands Bridge. What kind of effort are you putting out early on? Have you run with a heart rate monitor? Better to start slow and stay steady. I have also been passed early in races, only to reel in the same eager beavers in the last 20-30 miles of the race. Maybe rather than focusing on the last 30 miles, you should focus on the last 100 miles.

The Seed asks: I am a fairly solid 50M runner but can't seem to collect much more than yellow buckles (or, if not States, the particular race's equivalent) when I step up to the 100 mile starting line. I do have one token silver buckle but it is more of an anomaly, an outlier if you will, compared to my standard performances which, among others, include the following: 2 DNF's at AC in '98 & '99 (I mention those for The Jiz's benefit); a 28 hour at Western, wait, I mean, States in '02 where I spent 2 1/2 hours in a beach chair at Hwy 49 aid (mile 93) and it wasn't because the aid station folks were in pear-adorned monokinis serving margis either; and a 30 hour Wasatch in '08 in which I got to Brighton (mile 75) in 18 hours (you do the math on that one). Is there any hope for me to have a 100 mile performance on par with say, a 7 hour High Sierra 50M or should I stick with the "warm-up ultras," as Karl calls them, and maybe try and become a permanent member of The Jiz's crew to make sure he never DNFs (because only Sky daddy the knows the ripfest that would ensue after that).

Well Seed, are you training for 100s or 50s? How many long runs at super slow pace are you getting in? Are you racing 100s by running the first 50 as hard as you run 50 milers? Rather than be part of Jiz's crew, why not be a Jiz-wannabe? Train the like Jiz, race like the Jiz. Seriously, you probably need to get a coach. Bryon Powell just assembled a very good list of coaches and description of services.

Horatio Lovejoy asks: I win almost any race I enter. I'm young, a well established entrepreneur, drive a nice car and have a great fiancee. What else should I be doing?

HL,
You cannot be considered a success until you write a book. It could be titled something like "Double Cougar Endurance Man" or "Born to Stalk Cougars" or "I Don't Know About You, But I Run to Win". After that, it is time to make it into a movie. You're good looking enough to cast yourself as yourself, and the same for your fiancee. I think there are plenty of cast members in your town for a major motion picture. Finally, open up a national running store chain. With your fame you can carry your own shoe brand, have tracks named after you, and have oil portraits hanging in stranger's homes.

Craig Thornley
Andy Jones-Wilkens
Hal Koerner

"Dear Meghan..." Take Three

2010-04-20T02:00:00.000-07:00

This is the third in a series of synchroblog posts regarding the Western States Endurance Run (WSER).

Western States Widow asks: It’s Western States training season again. That means glimpses of my husband are becoming as rare as cougar sightings. Entire weekends are consumed with training runs. And when he isn’t running, he’s sleeping on the couch instead of pulling his weight around the house. When he’s awake, he pours over stats from previous years, reads countless running blogs, and talks incessantly about training and race strategies until my eyes go crossed. While I can appreciate his passion for the race, I have grown to resent how much it impacts our lives. What should I do?

WSW,

First of all, be sure to pursue your own passion. If you think you don't have time because your spouse takes all the spare time, figure out a fair way to make it happen. That will take prioritizing and dividing up responsibilities. What things around the house must be done and what can you live without? I personally gave up dusting years ago, vacuuming is not too frequent, and clean dishes are over rated. If you don't water the lawn, you don't have to mow. If there are children involved and the tag-team parenting isn't equitable, find a sitter so you can both do the things you love. Tell him that you will listen to him talk about his passion, provided you get to share yours with him. Learn to support each other. If you deny him his passion, then he will likely be resentful as well. I won't say it's about moderation, because there is nothing moderate about training and racing for 100 milers, but I will say it is about balance, respect, and fairness.

Now I'll go beyond the idea of developing your own passion and ask you to entertain the idea of being part of his team. Not as a by stander, but as someone truly involved with his race and therefore his success. Learn how to be the best crew ever. When he goes on long weekend runs, try to spend at least part of the day crewing for him. It is a great way to get your kids outdoors exploring nature, getting fresh air and exercise, and learning about the environment. Remember, while as insane as the distance seems, it is fostering a healthy lifestyle.

Finally, consider becoming an ultra runner yourself. Train your kids and parents to crew you. Family vacations will take on a new meaning entirely, and you might even up being faster than your spouse.

The infamous Anderson-Abbs Family

M@ asks: I’m a runner in my late thirties, returning to ultras after missing a year due to a torn calf and related injuries. I’m building up mileage for my 2nd hundred, this September, near a 2-bit Southern Oregon town known for cougar sightings and men in tights. My question has to do with core stability. Why does my "crew" have, at most, 2 or 3 pictures of me running, while our pc’s hard drive is full of photos of young, buff, shirtless, male ultra-runners with shaggy hair, dreamy eyes, and more ab muscles than I can count? Should I be doing some sit-ups or something?

Matt,

Recognize that your crew is busy doing their job when you come in. If they are taking pictures of you then they aren't giving you full attention and tending to your needs, which from the sounds of your so called success, you can use all the help you can get. Certainly you know the answer to your own question on core strength. The real question is how do you get started? Kelly Woodke, licensed massaje therapist extraordinaire, swears by P90X, although with the rug he has on his front side, it's hard to say how effective it is at obtaining the desired 6-pack.

Kelly Roy Woodke

Monkeyboy asks: What advice would you give for prospective parents who want to make signs to leave on the WS course such as "Dan O, the quads are evil and they must be punished. love, Mom and Dad" when doing exactly what mommy and daddy say could lead you to an extended stay in the Auburn Hospital?

Monkeyboy,

I would tell them they should be careful what they wish for. Besides the obvious danger, landing their son in the hospital can result in said son questioning the sanity of his parents, forbidding contact with grandchildren and from the Western States course. Perhaps more appropriate signs could be left, such as "Dan O - beware of the downhill trauma!", "Don't forget your hat!", "Are you getting your salt?", "Pace yourself!".

This is the third in a series of synchroblogs leading up to the 2010 WSER. Other posts include:

Craig Thornley
Andy Jones-Wilkens
Hal Koerner

Mad City 100k

2010-04-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

A 100k road race is not the most appealing event for runners. The relentless pounding, the repetitive nature (most involve multiple loops) combined with an uptempo pace not usually invoked in trail running can result in a more physically painful and mentally stressful event than even a 100 mile trail race. I personally find this race to be the hardest for me to complete without having some serious off moments for miles on end. This of course begs the question - why even do it? I asked myself the same and came to the simple answer that I have yet to figure out how to race the entire distance, so I really want to analyze, adjust, and eventually have a perfect race.

I am honored to be a member of Team USA for the World Cup 100k. I had run only 3 100ks on the road to date, and have experienced some long periods of time where forward relentless motion felt particularly relentless and barely forward. Since there are 18 months between WC 2009 and WC 2010, I felt compelled to get a practice race in, and Mad City 100k fit the bill perfectly. Having it be the USATF National Championships added to the appeal, and I looked forward to toeing the line with top ultra runners Annette Bednosky, Krissy Moehl, and Jenny Capel among others. Race director Tim Yavacheck graciously arranged a homestay that I shared with Bev Anderson-Abbs, and we were placed in the home of one Suzie Neas, a former runner who lives vicarously through her running friends and is very involved with the race. She gave us run of her home for the weekend. We couldn't have asked for a nicer hostess.

Friday afternoon, I made up 19 bottles with 8 oz of Heed, all labeled with my name and an orange ribbon for easy recognition. I labeled 9 gels in the order I wanted to consume them, alternating caffeinated with non. I filled 2 small pouches with S!Caps - one to carry and one to give to a crew member, if I could find one. My plan was to consume 2 bottles (only one the first lap), 1 gel, and 1-2 S!Caps per 10k (45-50 minutes). I found myself some help in Sam, Chad Ricklefs wife, who would have time to catch both Chad and me at the end of each loop. I had bottles for the far side aid station that would be placed on a table for me to grab as I ran by.

Conditions on Saturday morning were quite good - mid 40s, clear skies, with the prediction of low 60s by midday. I warmed up a little, and was nearly ready to go to the start when Suzie Neas wanted to introduce me to her friend Suzy, who wanted to meet Bev and me. She wore a hat with ear flaps, hiding her hair, was very cute and fit, and SO exuberant to meet us. I thought 'who could be that excited to meet ultra runners?!' I made my way to the start line, and listened to Timo give out final instructions. Then he announced our starter of the 100k, Suzy Favor. All I could think was 'good grief! I had been so looking forward to seeing her and she had just gushed over ME! I hadn't recognized her without seeing her blond locks.

Suzy Favor - Photo by James Mills

At 6:30, Suzy gave the 2 command start, and we were off. The course circled Lake Wingra and an arboretum (known as "The Arb"). To get around the entire course involved some neighborhood sidewalks, a road near a golf course, one short, gentle hill followed by a nice long downhill, a few more rollers, then a pancake flat section back to the start. Not tremendously hilly, but the hilliest road 100k I have run.

I wore my Garmin, and planned to monitor my heart rate, keeping it below 160. The pace would have to be whatever that HR produced, as I know to go above that for long is too much effort for 8 hours of running. As the lead men pulled ahead on the first couple of sharp turns, I just tried to relax and find my pace. After a couple of miles, I was in a good rhythm, HR mid 150s, pace 7:19. The hill came, and I kept everything in control, and then cruised into the Arb. Already the field was very spread out, and I was the leading female. I cruised through the rollers leading up to the far aid station, and was greeted by the volunteers who found my bottle and encouraged me through. Another roller, then the flat section to a bridge, to turn into the final section of the loop. A stiff headwind reminded me to stay calm and not get carried away by the anticipation of seeing the crowd at the start/finish area. Bev was ready for me with a gel, drink, and S!Cap for this first round, before she started her 50k race slated for 8:00. I made it through lap one in 45+ minutes, averaging 155 HR, and I felt comfortable.

Photo by James Mills

Heading out on loop two, I didn't fight the wind. I had my gel down pretty quick, tossed the package to one of the many wonderful volunteers, and focused on staying relaxed. Winding around through parks, homes, the golf course, up the hill and back down the Arb again, I took a brief moment in the bushes and hoped I wouldn't need to stop again. The far aid station was again ready to hand me my bottle, and I finally finished loop 2 in just under 46 minutes, HR average of 151. Sam was ready to help, handing me a caffeinated gel, S!Cap, and bottle.

Starting loop 3 I could see the 50k racers ahead of me, many of them donning the red caps that were part of our voluminous bag of race schwag. I eventually caught up to the mass, and had fun interacting with more racers. I was still feeling comfortable, and my overall pace for the race was 7:20. I felt fairly certain that eventually there would be some slowdown, but my HR was where I wanted it, so I didn't slow.

Around at the far aid station again, I was still amongst a fairly large group of 50k runners. The aid station volunteers were a bit overwhelmed, yelling out to runners 'Water! Heed!' and I reached for my bottle still sitting on a table. As I grabbed it a volunteer shouted "No! Don't take that! That's not for you!" and I grinned and said "It's okay! It's mine!" He apologized profusely, I told him "no worries!" and glided on out. Soon I was rounding the corner to the bridge, and into the start/finish zone once more. This time Lin Gentling (team manager for the 100k) was there to run through with me. Still feeling good, I hit my split in 45 minutes. I downed the gel, and worked on the bottle. Cautiously I ran into the wind, still trying to keep in control. Same routine all the way around, and now I was starting to really feel the tail wind on the back side. The day was as beautiful as promised, and pedestrians and cyclists were out in big numbers. It was a festive atmosphere, folks high on the unseasonably good weather. I finished loop 4 in just over 46 minutes.

Heading out for loop 5, I was disappointed to see Howard on the side lines in his sweats, jogging in the grass beside the course. "Hey good looking, what's going on?" I asked. In his usual modest ways, he only told me that I looked really strong, and to keep it up.

I finished loop 5 in under 47 minutes, and had a 50k split of 3:49. The tiniest suggestion of struggle was starting to needle me, and I started doing math. If I was only 10 minutes slower for the 2nd half I would break my PR of 7:52. I could see my pace starting to slip, but kept a positive head on. I made loop 6 in barely under 48 and lap 7 in 49. Three loops to go, I asked Lin how far back the 2nd woman was. She wasn't able to tell me, so I just focused on keeping going and try not to fade more. My overall pace had slipped to 7:30 or so. The wind, while not stronger, was having more of an effect on me, as were the hills. But I could still stretch out on the downhills, even though my legs were losing their resiliency. My stomach was starting to reject the Heed and the gel, so I grabbed some water at a water only station (a drinking fountain at a private residence!) and felt some relief. On the back side of the loop, I ran into Lin and Howard, running toward me, and offering me encouragement. I finally finished lap 8 in 50 minutes and had logged 50 miles in 6:17.

Sam told me that there were 2 women 8 to 9 minutes back. I felt a little vulnerable, but didn't want to blow up. I asked Sam to have water for me next time around, as it was starting to make me feel better. I took the gel but had little luck getting it down. My overall pace had slipped to 7:40, so I knew my PR was out of reach, but I still felt I might have the course record in hand if I could survive. At the top of the climb by the Arb, I saw Lin and Howard again, and Lin told me in no uncertain terms to stay mentally tough. For some reason, those words stayed with me as I pushed on to the finish of loop 9 in just under 52 minutes.

Sam was ready with a gel and a bottle of water. She said that my closest competitor was 8 minutes back. I told her it didn't matter now, I was ready to go! She was pleased and off I went, celebrating with the volunteers all the way around shouting "it's my last lap!" My pace was far from picking up, but I wasn't slowing down. With about a mile to go, I was able to pick it up, stride out, and although my HR went up, it felt good to push the pace. I rounded the last corner and sprinted to the end, with a final loop in 51, slightly faster than loop 9. Overall time - 8:00:52 - a new course record and my first National Championship.

Photo by James Mills

And yes, it did hurt just a little. But I accomplished my main goal - and that was to micro manage my nutrition and respond to the symptoms of dehydration, lack of calories, lack of salt, and try to problem solve any other negative issues. I'm pretty sure I made my drink a little strong, and washing gel down with the Heed probably made too high a concentration of sugars. So, for next time, I'll plan on water with the gel. I am pleased with the overall effort for this early in the season as well. Here's to a good race in Gibraltar!

"Dear Meghan..." Take Two

2010-03-30T02:00:00.000-07:00

This is the second in a series of synchroblog posts regarding the Western States Endurance Run (WSER).

BK asks: "How do you take care of your feet in a 100 mile race? Tape, powder, lube, socks, blister care or not, water crossings (sock/shoe changes or not). Toe paint?"

BK,

Some runners have their brothers tape their toes to kingdom come. Personally, I experiment with socks during training to find those that serve me well for the miles, and I suggest you do the same. Train in a couple models of shoes that work well for you. Then have at least one back up pair you can change into if you start getting a hot spot, or they get too wet for comfort. I like to change my shoes after crossing the river just for comfort. Stay on top of your sodium status, as hyponatremia can cause swelling in the feet, which will lead to increased friction in your shoes, thus the likelihood of blisters. My first WS experience included a long episode of hyponatremia, followed by heavily blistered feet, and resulted in walking most of the last 10 miles of the race. To diminish the amount of fine grit that gets in your shoes, invest in gaitors.

I think the most important thing is to pay attention to the symptoms early on. If you feel a hot spot, attend to it ASAP. It isn't going to disappear by ignoring it. The aid stations are well equipped with volunteers to help you out if you don't have crew, expertise, or supplies.

I use toe paint to make these ugly dogs feel pretty for one day.

Meghan

Joe Lee asks: "I’m currently training for WS100 2010. I’m kind of weird about the whole pacers and crew thing because I prefer to run alone and I don’t have much use for a crew. I kind of want WS to be virgin territory for my first attempt at it so I’m not planing on training there. I guess my question is: How much time am I going to sacrifice by taking this meathead approach? Is it easy to get lost on this course?"

Joe,

You may not lose any time if you can refuel and rehydrate throughout the event with what is available at the aid stations, so at least try to have a grasp on what they provide, and know what works for you. Plan ahead for scenarios that require problem solving (blisters, hyponatremia, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, dehydration, fatigue and lack of motivation). Be prepared for running in the dark with your own back up lights. Runners have gotten off course, even if they have experienced the course before, either in training or racing, so I suggest you don't go in so blind as to not study the map. Having to be searched and rescued would be a pretty big price to pay.

Follow the Western States Trail

Good luck,

Meghan

GG to PHS Runner asks: "Do you think that riding a bicycle, in addition to downhill/heat training would be beneficial? I was thinking about doing a 100mi mountain bike race a few weeks after WS, and that the dual training might be beneficial. Of course, I don't want to break my ribs or a pinky or something like that, where it might hinder my running. But then again, I can a bike without falling down repeatedly- I mean, who can't ride a bike without falling, know what I mean? Any suggestions you have, would be appreciated."

Green Gate,

Get your priorities straight. Cross training is for sissies and for runners who need an excuse for poor race results mid-season. The excuses I have heard make my eyes roll ("my legs are trashed from my 30 mile bike ride", "my pinky is crooked", "it hurts to breath"). Run Western States, then train 2 weeks for the bicycle race. A 100 mile mountain bike race should be a Cream Puff if you are as talented as you say.

Meghan

This is the second in a series of synchroblogs leading up to the 2010 WSER. Other posts include:

Craig Thornley
Andy Jones-Wilkens
Hal Koerner

Chuckanut 50k

2010-03-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

In January, I had a few rare days where I was running better than Sunsweet teammate Craig Thornley. At some point he claimed I would beat him at Chuckanut. I begged to differ, but then embraced the idea as I found myself dropping him on more than one occasion. Granted, he did beat me in a 4 mile race in February, but I was not phased, even when he boasted a sub 4:00 50k at Pemberton one week later. He was, however, a bit shaken by my 2:46 marathon.

So when Chuckanut race day arrived, we had been trash talkin' for a good amount of time. My race goals were to run faster than the current course record (4:34), run the last 6.5 miles as a hard tempo, and in the process, beat Craig.

I had the good fortune of bringing my running partner and friend Erica Pohl to crew for me. She diligently wrote out each aid station time frame of arrival, figured out where to drive, where to hike, what I would need, and was really on top of things for me.

The day dawned clear, calm, and chilly. When I warmed up, I ran into Susannah Beck. Claiming to be not too fit, and wondering if I had recovered from Napa, I was sure she would be up in the front. Her talent carries her far regardless of her mileage. I determined who the course record holder, Ellie Greenwood was. When the race was about to start, I gave Craig a hug, trying to bruise his already bruised ribs (biking accident), and wished him luck.

The race started, and I tried to stay contained. I could see Susannah in her kilt, and Ellie, pulling ahead, and another female runner unknown to me. As we cruised onto the lightly graveled Interurban Trail. My heart rate was freakishly high. I was running with Craig at this point, telling him "that is one caffeinated heart rate". It was above my so called max, but breathing was easy. It finally came down to a reasonable level. I was trying to get to aid station 1 in 45 minutes or so, given the course description (flat) but as is often the case, flat can mean 'flat with some hills thrown in for good measure'. I kept seeing Ellie ahead, and gradually pulled away from Craig. Just before the first aid station, I met Hal Koerner and Joe Grant racing side by side at the only out and back section of the course. As I cruised in, Erica was there with a fresh bottle for me, and a gel. She said I was fifth woman. My split was 45 and change, so I felt satisfied. I went back out, and met many a runner on their way in. Then a sharp turn off the Interurban to a long, gradual, but runnable climb.

Climbing is not my forte, and I also didn't want to use up my legs early on. I stayed in control, getting passed by a few guys. The trail switchbacked a number of times, and I could see Craig below. Finally he yelled up to me "How is the marathon treating your legs?" I told him "Great!". He didn't quite catch me by the time I got to the top, so I was safe for awhile. The single track was nice and runnable. I didn't do a good job remembering aid station distances, and after awhile was afraid we had missed one. I waited for Craig, mentioning my concern, but he was sure there wasn't anywhere we could have turned. We cruised into aid station 2, Erica there waiting with more gel (would you like the Mountain Huckleberry?), and we ran out together on a long slow climb. Only I was going slower. I asked Craig how my marathon was treating his legs, and he said "they're tired!" as he pulled ahead. Oh well, I thought. I may not see him again until the end.

Keeping myself contained, I pulled into aid station 3 - very minimal and difficult for crew to get to. Erica said she wouldn't make it to that one. I grabbed a gel, choked it down (yummy) and continued on. Craig had a pretty good lead on me, and I couldn't see any women. Finally I reached the best part of the course - the Chuckanut Mountain Ridge trail. It was very technical - roots, sharp turns, quick ups and downs. There were views to be had, but my eyes were glued to the trail. I was in runner heaven. I focused on the trail and flew. Eventually, I could see Craig, coming closer and closer. That was new - catching him on a technical section. Oh yes, I was pleased. Finally I was on his heels. We ran together for awhile, and finally I said, "Okay Craig, let me by", to which he replied "show off!". Shortly after we popped out onto a straight trail. As I continued to pull ahead (yes, on an uphill) he asked me if the Garmin could tell me how far to the next aid station. I thought it was at mile 17 (wrong) so said "about one mile". Ahead I saw a female runner, and eventually caught and passed her. This section was all relativly smooth going. Not technical, a little muddy, a gentle climb. Then came a good bit of downhill, all the way into aid station 4. Erica was there again, and offered me a warmed up gel (is she great, or what?), a fresh bottle, and said the girls were a fair bit ahead.

The next challenge was a climb called "Little Chinscraper". It was much like climbing the north face of Spencer Butte in Eugene. Very slow, ridiculously steep. Every now and then it would flatten for about 10 feet, and I jogged every flat bit to shake my legs out. I reached the top without any signs of Craig, hit a gravel road, and started the long sweet downhill. Still feeling pretty decent, knees a little sore, I was at first surprised to be passed by a woman, until I recognized Nicola Gildersleeve. She has blown past me on downhills before, and I asked her what took her so long to catch me today. She glided away, and I followed her as she turned onto a much softer trail. My knees relaxed, and I picked up the pace, thinking I could catch Nicola. The downhill was long and relentless. I hooked up with Brian Morrison for awhile, chatted briefly until he pulled ahead, and finally, made it to aid station 5.

I handed Erica my water bottle, ate a gel, and prepared to meet goal number 2 - run tempo to the end. I was quite pleased to have legs left for the last 6.5 miles. The flat sections I was getting under 7 minute pace, but the fatigue was definitely noticeable on every tiny climb. Ahead I saw 3 runners, the middle one with a long pony tail. Cool - maybe I'll move up another spot! As I approached I realized pony tail was not only the wrong gender, but not even in the race. Never mind, it gave me a reason to keep going hard. With about 2 miles to go, I could see Nicola at the top end of a switch back. I pushed hard, and caught a male racer, walking. I told him "come on! run! only 2 more miles!" He replied "okay, but if I puke it's your fault!" I said that was okay, but don't expect me to stop.

I could see Nicola coming closer and closer, but I was running out of real estate. I was definitely working hard, but didn't want to get in the frenzy I had experienced at Napa just to be 10 seconds faster. Nicola looked back one time just before she entered into the finishing area, beating me by 30 seconds. My time was 4:36 - pretty close to time goal, I had run hard the last 6.5, and oh yes, I beat Craig by 11 minutes. Not that it mattered. Susannah, Ellie, and relatively newbie Lia Slemons all broke the course record, Nicola and I getting close.

I highly recommend this race for its beauty and organization. RD Krissy Moehl did a great job, and the post race food was awesome!

Napa Valley Marathon

2010-03-25T22:29:00.000-07:00

My first attempt at qualifying for the Olympic Trials this year was Napa Valley Marathon. I chose it based on proximity to home, time of year, and speediness of course. My workouts in the previous 8 weeks had led me to believe I was close enough to ready to give it a go.

The day before the race, I spoke with Mary Coordt about her plans for the race. She was training for a goal marathon some time out, and wanted to run in Napa for training. Whether or not she finished was going to be decided as she went. The following morning we warmed up a bit together and talked pace. She was thinking 6:20 to 6:25, and told me that I was going to have just 'go for it'. Her assessment of Napa compared to California International Marathon was that Cal could be easier because of the camber to the road in Napa, sharp turns and steeper climbs.

Dawn broke to a beautiful, sunny, calm morning. At 7:00 am, the gun went off, and the answer to my readiness was to be slowly revealed. I wore my Garmin, set up to show me overall pace for the entire race, plus current pace, overall time, and heart rate. I stayed relaxed for the first mile, and Mary clicked right in with me. First mile - 6:32, with a heart rate a bit out of control - 189. Nerves. We picked it up a bit for a 6:17 uphill mile 2, heart rate still a little excited at 192. Finally, at mile 3 in 6:22, it settled down to 173. Physiology tests early revealed that 171-173 was pretty optimum for me for a marathon. Mile 4, a little downhill in 6:07. Mary reassured me that it all evens out over the course. I grabbed my fluids bottle at the next aid station, took in some replenishment and tossed it aside. One more small downhill in mile 5 for 6:11, then a gradual, canted, hard to run the tangent, twisty uphill for mile 6 in 6:26. I was not paying a lot of attention to each mile split, but watching the overall average pace, which about 6:18. I needed to average 6:20 to make the qualifying mark of 2:46:00. I was also aware that I was likely to run over 26.2 due to the unlikelihood of me running the tangents for the entire course, which would mean a slightly faster pace would be necessary.

Mile 7 I saw Brian who had made it out on the course. It was good to see his encouraging smile. We hit that mile in 6:17, then mile 8 in 6:16. Mile 9 was 6:43. Mary commented to that with surprise, but mile 10 was 6:04, so obviously the markers were off. Running with Mary was incredibly helpful, as the field was fairly dispersed. Her companionship, support, and course knowledge were priceless. She had run and won this course many times, and she was a rock star at every aid station. We were running number 1 and 2, and had 2 bicycle escorts.

Miles 11 and 12 were 6:22 and 6:23, and slightly downhill. I was still in the 6:17 - 6:18 average pace range. Mile 13 was 6:13, and I realized that the half was 1:23. I didn't give this near enough thought, like the fact that I would have to negative split to get my desired time, and that the Garmin was giving me overall pace for a bit longer due to not running exactly on the tangents. Mile 14 was 6:24, so we picked it up to a 6:13 mile.
Miles 16 and 17 were slightly uphill, and in 6:25, 6:28. Mary told me that mile 19 was coming up, followed by a very long, gradual uphill. Mile 18 set us up with a 6:07, and mile 19 in 6:13. I was feeling great, in that my overall pace was still 6:18. We hit the base of the mile and started to climb. For unexplainable reasons, I felt great. We continued working together and crested the hill, hitting mile 20 in 6:22, for a total time of 2:07. I was a minute or 2 slower than I wished, and ready to test the wheels for a hard 10k. We cruised downhill into an open valley. Mary said we had 2 more miles of straight road. A red barn was far off in the distance, and it appeared to never get closer. Sometimes I struggled to keep up, and sometimes I felt Mary struggle. We managed mile 22 in 6:21. The road was quite flat, and I was breathing hard.

Mile 23 came as we finally turned off the straight road. It was then that my legs said "wow - I am TIRED". Our split was 6:25, and as the road twisted with a very slight uphill, Mary began to drift away. "Come on Meghan!" she yelled. All I could do was grunt. One cyclist went with her, the other stayed with me. My pace average still said 6:19. I just needed to hold on, but the overall math wasn't looking good. My escort on wheels said the next aid station had sorbet. I was a bit taken aback. I didn't want to appear ungrateful, but my immediate inner response was "as if!". I was starting to really grunt with each stride, trying hard to hold on to pace. At the end of that mile (24) I hit a 6:33. The aid station there was very animated, shouting "Twenty four - just two more!". I was clawing at the air, squawking and squeeking. Ahead I saw Sean Meissner coming closer to me. Bummer. He was not having the day he wanted.

I so badly wanted to slow down. It seemed it would be impossible to hit my time, so why try? But I knew myself well enough. If I gave up and missed the mark by a few seconds, I would be very disappointed in myself. So I kept on gasping and struggling. As I passed Sean I shouted at him to come with me, but got no response. Mile 25 was 6:33. Overall time was 2:39 and I don't know how many seconds. I would have to run 1.2 miles in less than 7 minutes. I could still see Mary at times, as the course wound through town. I didn't give up the fight, and pushed myself to the very end. As I came near the finish, I could see the clock. At first I thought it said 2:45 and some seconds. I pushed very hard and about 10 yards out I saw that it was actually 2:46. I let up slightly, and cruised in at 2:46:41.

True to my nature, I was not disappointed. I ran the best I could that day, and came close enough to know that I can get the time. Everything went pretty well. I drank my drink when I could, used the course gatorade at other times. I obviously relied to heavily on the Garmin average pace rather than the actual course splits, since I averaged 6:19 for 26.35 miles. It was great have Mary to run with.

I will be trying again this fall at Twin Cities Marathon. In the meantime I have 6 ultras to get through!

"Dear Meghan...."

2010-03-02T02:00:00.001-08:00

Below are my answers to FAQs from ultrarunners, as suggested by Craig Thornley, as the first in a series of synchroblog posts regarding the Western States Endurance Run (WSER).

Mr CPK asks: "I know a friend who is a very good marathon runner but ended up in the hospital after his first WS due to rhabdomyolsis. I'm running my first WS this year and wondering what I need to do to keep this from happening to me?"

Hey Mr. CPK,

For now, I will spare you the nitty gritty of rhabdomyolysis, but will try to give you some direction on how to prepare for and deal with contributing factors that can occur when participating in a 100 mile race. For the WSER, you will be up against heat, electrolyte imbalances, and 22,970 feet of downhill to challenge the strongest of quads.

Heat - It can get into the low 100's in the canyons at WSER. One of the most detailed approaches that I have seen is Arthur Webb's article on heat training for AdventureCORPS Badwater Ultramarathon. My personal approach is to train in the heat of the day, although in Oregon it isn't likely to reach more than 70 or 80 by June, so I have a plan for dealing with the 100's on race day. I wear a hat with a neck protector,and a bandanna with the a pocket to hold ice.

Once the oven comes on, I have my hand held bottles filled with ice as well as beverage to keep my hands cool, and have ice put into my bandanna at every aid station through the heat of the day. I get wet at every opportunity, particularly in the creek just past the Swinging Bridge, and I submerse completely in Volcano Creek.

Electrolytes - Be sure to practice with the drink that is provided at the race. Additional salt supplementation is likely to be required to replace the salt lost in sweat. Whatever one you decide to use, practice with it in long training runs leading up to the race. Symptoms that may indicate you are low on salt are muscle cramps, nausea, and a sloshy stomach. Look for these symptoms in training, take your supplemental salt, and see if your symptoms subside. This one took me longer to get a handle on, but it was my first R2R2R I ran with Craig Thornley and Mike Scannell that helped me nail it down.

I was at mile 45, it was over 100 degrees, and I felt sick. I had been consuming lots of fluids and S!Caps every so often, although I had not experienced cramping. I proceeded to follow Craig out onto Plateau Point, but was still feeling miserable. I took another S!Cap in quick succession and within a few minutes, I felt like a new girl. The hottest, most miserable time of the day, and I had a turn around. I knew then that my first symptom is nausea, and have followed the cue since, quite successfully. Now, I have made it a habit to stay ahead of the game, beginning the S!Caps early in the run at about one per hour, and increase to one per 30 minutes, while still looking for symptoms that I may need more.

Downhill running - If you are fortunate enough to have some long descents, practice starting early in the season. Build up to be being able to run 3 or 4 miles of continuous downhill, more than once in a workout. One of my most compact training runs is in McDonald Research Forest and covers a few skills that are WSER worthy - hiking, nighttime light management, downhill pounding, and technical trail running. Starting at dusk, I hike hard 4 miles up to McCulloch Peak (2000+), then turn around and run hard down. The last 1+ mile is on a very technical trail, and I run as fast as I can, practicing footing, pounding, and nighttime proprioception.

If you are without hills, be creative - find a tall building, take the elevator to the top, and run down the stairs. Repeat. If you have no hills or tall buildings, jumping from a bench to traumatize the quads would be something. Look for some training opportunities, perhaps a 50k race with some elevation, and later a 50 miler. Partake in the WSER Training Runs if possible. On race day, stay within yourself on the downhills. Enjoy the free ride offered by the gravity, but remember that if you pound too hard early on, gravity can become your 'frenemy' and lead to a slow painful ending, perhaps before you get to the Auburn High School track.

With good training, you won't need good luck! I wish you well.

Meghan

Chubster asks: "I run a bunch of ultras, 100 milers are my favorite. I am usually in the top five, top ten if it is super competitive. Even with all the training, I have elevated love handles. I don't mean a little elevated, I'm talking waaay higher. What can I do?"

Dear Chubster,

Because you are having body image issues, I assume you are female. From one female runner to another, I would ask that you reflect upon why you want to diminish further the full figure that so many female ultra runners (present company included) simply do not have. You probably actually are acknowledged as a woman, something that I rarely experience. While chafe and bounce may be your enemies, at least you are getting looks. My advise to you is to embrace your feminine body, get the best looking jog bra possible (I have a Team USA bra that is too big if you want it), and work on those abs. Besides, the extra weight on the chest may help with your down hill momentum. Am I right in assuming you are indeed a fast down hill runner?

Do you have one of these?

If you've got it, flaunt it!

Meghan

This is the first in a series of synchroblogs leading up to the 2010 WSER. Other posts include:

Craig Thornley Ask An Ultrarunner #1
Andy Jones-Wilkens Ask An Ultrarunner -- #1
Hal Koerner Western States 100 Synchroblog

JFK 50 Mile

2009-11-27T16:23:00.000-08:00

This was an exciting event for me. I have been intrigued with it for some time, and since RD Mike Spinnler is a team manager for the 100k team, I looked forward to running in his event. Having Devon there and the Ashland boys added to the excitement and helped me feel comfortable in a regionally different ultra running community.

I was really rested up for this race. The easy run with Devon the day before the race gave me confidence in my 'rest'. I laid low the remainder of the day, ending with a nice dinner with Monica Ochs and Devon. I slept very little, got up at 4:00, drank coffee, ate brown rice cereal, banana, and a bottle of EFS. At 5:50 I picked up Devon for the drive from Hagerstown to the town of Boonsboro. Upon arrival I realized the impact of such a large race (1000 participants) in such a small town, as we drove in circles around the schools looking for parking. I was feeling nervous, which made me feel comfortable about the race. In the gym, I found Howard Nippert and Mike, and got to visit a bit.

At 6:40 the hoards walked the half mile to the start. It was finally light, and it promised to be a beautiful day - cool, clear and calm. The race starter lined us up with about 5 minutes to go - shouting at the top of his lungs every minute "FIVE MINUTES", "FOUR MINUTES", etc. until with 1 minute left, he rang out the seconds. Finally we were off amid hoops and hollers of an excited hoard of ultra maniacs.

The first part of the course is paved road, leading up a fairly long significant climb. I kept my breathing and heart rate in control, listening to the banter going on around me. Devon and I ran together, passing Annette Bednosky and Jill Perry to be the leading "fillies", and at 2.5 miles or so we hit the infamous Appalachian Trail (AT). Happy to be on dirt, I scampered along, very mindful in the mostly rocky terrain, but not mindful enough. I took a nice tumble, throwing my gel flask yonder and smacked my quad on a big rock. The man I just passed asked if I was okay, and I assured him I was between swearing, got up and got going. The course dipped and rolled and curved, and the leafless decidous forest was beautiful. We passed through the second aid station, me behind Devon. I had my bottle filled with water and added my EFS, and caught up to Devon as she was coming out of the port-a-potty. We ran out together, this time on a long stretch of paved trail. It began to climb seriously, and rather than trying to keep up, I kept myself in control, waiting for the relentless climb to end. Finally, back on trail, I started cruising, only to have one more dirt nap. The rest of the time on the trail I felt like a spaz, trying to run with some speed, trying to plan every foot plant over the technical terrain.

There were several early starters at this point, and they were encouraging an inspirational, as many of them appeared to be quite senior. Devon had pulled ahead by a good measure, and only now and then could I catch a glimpse of her red hat. The last technical bit involved about a half mile of short switchbacks which were filled with cooperative, cheering early starters. Finally at the bottom, I was followed by 3 runners into the next aid station. I had a report that Devon was about 30 seconds ahead, but I wasn't in a hurry.

I had my bottle filled, and finally hit the oft-described "boring" towpath. It was so pretty that I thought we must be on a wide trail leading to path, but then it became obvious that this was it. I worked on getting into a good rhythm, keeping the HR around 160, hoping to be in the 7 minute pace range. There were still plenty of early starters ahead, and I got a report that "she's just 2 minutes ahead" to "She's seven minutes ahead". I hadn't set my Garmin the way I intended, so the 'real time' pace was jumping all over the place. I wasn't taking splits, but doing math occasionally. I hoped to run 6:28, breaking the course record, so at mile 25 in 3:35 I saw that I needed to run 25 miles in under 3 hours - that was not a good sign, but I felt that I was on pace to run a good time nevertheless. At this point I started running with a local, Mark, and he and I ran together for quite awhile, pushing each other until he finally pulled away. He would never get to far from sight the remainder of the day.

Nutritionally, I thought I was keeping up. I consumed one gel flask in the first half of the race, plus filling my bottle at every aid station with my EFS powder plus water. Once my gel flask was empty I started taking the Hammer gels from each aid station. Occasionally I would drink a coke or some gatorade, just to get a few more calories in. I started taking S!Caps when I felt some cramping in the hamstrings, and continued taking them every 30 minutes or so. Each aid station was manned by capable, enthusiastic volunteers. I was in and out quickly each time, but noticed that I was not given any updates on Devon's whereabouts, so figured she was having a great day.

My energy and pace ebbed and flowed, but after mile 30, my HR started to drop a bit. Sometimes I would feel myself dragging, and then moments later I was rolling. Before the end of the towpath, I saw myself get closer to Mark and another runner, and before long the three of us were working together, coming out to the road at the same time. The hill ahead was 400 meters and I eased myself over it, letting Mark and the other runner get away. When I finally crested, Mark was about 100 meters ahead, and waved for me to catch up. I would have liked that, but was getting no response from my body. With 8 miles to go and 5:43 into the race, I wanted to finish in less than an hour, but my tank was running on low. The climbs were surreal, and the downhills felt like a free fall. The aid stations were plentiful, so I grabbed water and gels with 6 miles to go, and trudged onward to the next one. Before the next aid station, I felt absolutely tanked, but refused to walk. With four miles to go, I did something at the aid station I hadn't done in a race before - grabbed a handful of M and Ms and downed them followed by a sandwich cookie and some gatorade. I was starving. One young man at the aid station said "Cool! You're the second lady!" At this point I was concerned that anyone of the gals back could be starting to reel me in. I headed out, cookie crumbs and all, and very determinedly pushed on.

With just over a mile to go, I turned down aid from the final aid station. I was still moving, just not fast. Ahead I could see the final turn of the race, and the volunteers said I would be able to see the finish at the end of the street. Up ahead, I could see Mark finish, and I found some reserve, pumped my arms and picked up the pace to the announcement of "Is that a young lady about to finish?" Crossing the line, I was immediately embraced by a very long time friend from my home town of Yoncalla, Oregon, whom I had not seen in 20 or so years, but made the drive from Virginia Beach to see me finish. Her daughter, my childhood friend Pam, was with her, and they were introduced to the strange world of ultra running first hand.

Me and my HS friend Pam

I was happy to learn of Devon's new course record, and simply amazed at how fresh she was afterward.

Seven of the top ten ladies - including Monica Ochs (4th) and Annette Bednosky (3rd), me and Devon.

I realize that I did bonk a bit severely, but even so I am starting to pay attention to the looking glass. I am, after all, 48 years old. I don't like to think that I am slowing down, but maybe I am. I will not just roll over, but continue to hang on for dear life. And come back to JFK again and finish strong!

Twin Cities Marathon – 2009

2009-11-18T19:58:00.001-08:00

For the 6^th time, I returned to Minnesota for the USATF Masters Marathon Championships, which coincided this year with the Open Championships for women as well. As such, it was the only opportunity in 2009 for women to run a qualifying time for the 2009 Olympic Trials, and that meant that the field was loaded. My primary goal was to run anything 2:46 flat of better, and try to make to one more trials before my body really starts to betray me.

I arrived on Thursday to cool, cloudy weather. I settled in, put on my running clothes and ran 9 miles on the tail end of the course. It felt good to move after being cooped up all day, and my legs felt fine. Afterwards Coach Bob and I had dinner, then I settled into my routine of sleeping and eating for the next 2 days. Kami arrived Friday night and Saturday morning she and I took our last run before the big dance.

Up at 5:00 Sunday morning, we both had oatmeal and coffee, and dressed for cool weather. We were bussed to a church near the start of the race, and I reconnected with Mike Wardian and Susan Empy, amongst others. At 7:00, Kami and I went out to warm up. It was chilly and damp, but by race start I was warm enough to don the Strands singlet with arm warmers, gloves, and hat. I was also carrying a flask with EFS Gel that I could easily nip at without having to try and open any packets on the fly.

Running in the masters field were Kami, Susan (last year's winner), Colleen DeRueck, Susannah Beck, and Wendy Terris. These were only the ones I knew about. The open field was quite deep. Again, I was going for time, not place, and hoped there would be a group about my fitness I could run with.

After the final strides, we lined up under the start banner, and with much fanfare, we were off. It's usually crazy the first mile, trying to see where your peeps are and not get carried away. I had my Garmin on and had set it up to show me my overall pace, current pace, lap time, and heart rate. Even in the first mile I checked on my pace to keep myself reined in. I could see Kami about 20 yards ahead of me, with Susan and Wendy. My first mile was 6:16, and HR was about 169. I needed to keep the HR between 169-172 to stay in control, so I was on track. I expected the group ahead of me to pull ahead, but they remained the same distance. Around a turn and up an on ramp, mile 2 came in 6:12. I was please with this, as I felt strong. Cresting a small hill, and greeted by a number of fans along the, I glided down hill past the famous tuba player as he serenaded us. A small uphill before mile 3, and I went through in 6:29. My HR was settling into the 170-172 range, and having my overall average still below 6:15 was reassuring. Mile 4 was quicker with 6:09, and as we rounded one of the many lakes, I hit mile 5 in 5:59. At this point I had my first bottle to pick up from an aid station. I grabbed it, lugged it along for awhile, chasing down the Gel I had taken.

I could still see the group ahead, and I was running with a couple of other women trying to qualify. It was all rather dynamic, especially with the men slowing down, speeding up, passing, drafting, and encouraging. I tossed my bottle, and hit mile 6 in 6:35. The next two miles clipped along in 6:12, and 6:18. My HR was still 169-172 range, and I was feeling pretty excited that I felt strong and like it was going to happen today. Kami and her group were still about the same distance ahead. Mile 9 came, I grabbed another bottle and did a poor job of getting much in before deciding it was too heavy to carry. It was cool, I reasoned, so I shouldn't need that much fluid. My average pace was still around 6:15, and I felt that if I could hold that to mile 20, I could manage to average 6:20 overall with the uphill sections over the last 6 miles.

Mile 10 (6:13) had a gradual climb, and I found myself running with man trying to help me out. He led me by a half-length, and drafted up the hill. We had a 90 degree turn at the top, and I hung on through mile 11 (6:15), and then realized it was starting to feel a bit tough. This was not a good place or time to start that already. I hung on as long as I felt I could without getting into trouble, and finally, giving up on me, he pulled away. I hit mile 12 in 6:24, and it wasn't too long before we turned out of the wind and made a gentle climb to mile 13 (6:20).

My average was getting slower, and at the half marathon my time was 1:22. I was pretty sure I wouldn't run 1:23 for the second half, but that never gave me cause to lessen up. I had another companion who ran beside me for another mile (6:31) before he faded. I was struggling more, and a bit perplexed, but could still see the same group in front of me. Miles 15 (6:24), 16 (6:29), 17 (6:29) were a blur, and I began looking forward to mile 18, where an old acquaintance of mine, Ross, had said he would be. About that time, I saw Susan Empy pull out of the race, with an injury. She saw me and encouraged me to “catch 'em”. Soon afterwards, Wendy started to fade from that pack, and I passed her at about mile 18 (6:37). My eyes were straining for Ross, and I never did see him (it turns out I was too fast for him!), but the thought of having someone there had kept me going that long.

Mile 19 (6:36) ends on an on ramp to a bridge that crosses the Mississippi River. I was feeling pretty spent, and my pace average was now at 6:19. I hoped I would still run a 2:48 – that would not seem too bad to me. Cresting the bridge and turning east, I tried to pick up the pace, and that is where I really ran into problems. My HR dropped then jumped to over 200. It seemed like pushing it was not such a good idea after all. I tried consuming the rest of the Gel, and washed it down with water from the next aid station. It didn't really help. At this point, Kami got to feeling good, and she sped out of sight. I took it all one step at a time. Mile 20 (6:33) came and my average was now 6:20. At 2:07, I thought I would still run 2:48 or so. I trudged on, and my HR continued to stay high (187-192). My last VO2 Max test maxed me at 187, but the physiologist had warned me that if it ever goes above that then it is probably due to dehydration. I wasn't making the connection at the time, but in retrospect, I can think of no other explanation. I felt like crap. My next miles were 6:41, 7:13, 7:02. About this time, Wendy caught back up, and I encouraged her on. I was working with another woman, back and forth we led each other, before she too dropped me. Mile 24 (6:50) was probably the worst. I so wanted to be done, and did not feel good. The oddest thing was that although my HR was in the 190s, I could not put effort in, and so I was not even breathing hard, making my trademark grunts I normally do. Finally, mile 25 (7:04) and I knew it was almost done. I could see the Cathedral on the left, and just kept my mind on the finish. The last 1.2 miles were in 8:20l, and when I crossed the finish line I felt absolutely flat and bummed. My time was 2:50:50, which is about 6:30 average. I can't really complain about it, but I apparently am not too old to learn lessons in this game.

One of the most remarkable things about this day was that it was one of my faster performances here (I have run 2:46 and 2:49) and by far the lowest I have placed. I was 10^th Master and 50-something female. I find it very exciting for our sport to have so many fast women showing up. There were 24 qualifiers, with 11 of them reaching the A standard of sub-2:39. And how about that Colleen DeRueck? She was second overall in 2:32 at the age of 45. We are in the same age group, so I don't know what my problem is!

I am definitely going to be diligent from now on in every race about staying hydrated, regardless of the weather.

Where's Waldo 2009

2009-08-27T22:10:00.000-07:00

As the race approached, I was feeling strong and looking forward to seeing my ultra running friends and family. My best guess was the Joelle Vaught and Bev Anderson-Abbs would be my main competitors, but some lesser known names were certainly in the mix. The pre-race meeting was carried off in the usual jocular fashion, with Craig and Alan throwing jabs at each other, Curt letting us know that pink is the only color we need to know, Richard Bolt reviewing the USATF championship, and Jessie Malman announcing the inclusion of Where's Waldo in the Montrail Ultra Cup Race Series. With all instructions and thanks to sponsors, everyone made their way to a night of pre-race fitful sleep.

Awaking at 3:00, I mentally acknowledged the early starters, wondering if they got any sleep at all. I ate rice porridge, coffee, energy drink, and at 4:00 am, Brian and I were on the way to the start. Bright stars revealed a clear sky. At the lodge, I alternated trips to the bathroom with warm up jogging and drills in the dark, hoping I wouldn't fall before the race even started. Finally at 5:00 am, with headlamps and hand held lights, we were off.

My goal was to keep myself from burning out too quickly. I had splits that I would like to hit, but was only going to go by heart rate, splits be what they may. The dusty climb from the start was mostly happily shared with team mate and good friend Jeff Riley. We kept a reasonable pace and good conversation much of the way. Finally cresting and getting onto single track, I let my legs carry me quickly along the trail, passing folks that I knew I would see again - Sean, Lewis, William. Daylight arrived, I turned off the lights, and worked my way to the Gold Lake aid station. Arriving in 1:07, I was ahead of my split, and told that Bev was one minute ahead. I picked up an another bottle, left my lights with Brian, ate one gel, and headed to the road. Alone on the trail, I kept my pace according to my heart rate, and was passed by Lewis, then Sean, and finally Victor. On the South Waldo trail I met early starters running in the opposite direction, and finally reaching Fuji aid station, I was pleased to be right on pace, yet staying under control. Spotting volunteer Gary Stott, I handed him both bottles, asked him if he would fill them while I summited Fuji. He gladly obliged, and I set off for the short climb to the top. Very soon I met Erik Skaggs cruising lightly down, followed not too closely by men who appeared to be working much harder than he. Near the top, Joelle was coming down, and about a minute later, Bev. It felt good to be able to run most of this climb, and the welcoming committee of Craig, Greyson and Scott, at the top was not to be surpassed. One or two photos later, I was on my way down.

Reaching Fuji aid station again, Gary pointed out my bottles and encouraged me to catch those girls. I scooted out, feeling strong, and staying in control. The downhills I allowed the gravity to pull me quickly, the uphills I kept my heart rate in control. The trail was in excellent condition, and I arrived at the next aid station, again in good time. Brian was there, handed me a Vespa with some good encouraging words, Cindy filled my bottles, and I gave one to Brian. In the cool weather I was not needing so much fluid, and knew that one bottle would get me to the Twins aid station quite adequately. I was soon on my way, happy that my legs hadn't died early, as they had last year. I worked my way steadily up the Gold Lake trail, to Bobby Lakes trail, and finally to the PCT. Julie was monitoring this intersection, and she said Bev was 13 minutes ahead. I teased that Bev would be sorry later, and continued uphill. I felt like I wasn't going as well as 2 years ago, but not too badly. Looking at my watch, I realized I was falling off pace. Eventually I reached the "1/4 mile to the next aid station" sign, and as usual, found it to be the longest 1/4 mile ever.

Once there, I was greeted with great fanfare from Melissa, Keah, Dennis, and others. They quickly got my needs met, and got me out of there. I was about 4 minutes slow, but still felt strong enough. I had a little trouble getting comfortable running, but stayed patient, acknowledging that I had not been above sea-level but once since Western States. I finally came up and passed Chris about where he predicted I would see him, and his presence lifted my spirits. Eventually I was running in a good groove, and arrived in Charleton to a very animated aid station. Again, Brian was there, providing sanity and grounding and good sense - making sure I took two water bottles for the longer stretches ahead. I ate a little from the aid station, and was on my way, Gaby running beside me telling me that Bev was 17 minutes ahead.

Moving along in the next section was a bit of a struggle. Again, the elevation was probably a factor, along with running now longer than I had since Western States, but I wasn't concerned. I soon caught Victor and we chatted a bit, and I confirmed to him that we indeed were running at 5 or 6000 feet. Arriving at 4290, I made sure I ate a gel, filled both bottles, and tried to find something else that appealed. Some melon and an S!Cap, my bottles, and I was on my way. Victor had passed me again, so my eyes kept looking ahead for him. With the turns coming quickly, I was virtually alone. Finally on the long grind to the Twins summit, I heard someone behind me, and soon Sander powered by with his trademark power hike. He invited me to keep up - and I would have loved to - but before long he was out of sight. I took my trademark stumble/tumble in the dirt, and tried to brush off the evidence. In this remote section, it was quite comforting to look up and see two horse and riders volunteering for the race. They checked that I had enough water, and asked if I was okay. I replied that I was - not that I wouldn't appreciate a ride - to which they replied they could do that. I resisted the temptation, and slogged on. Near the Twins saddle, I finally caught Victor again. We cruised quickly down to the Twins aid station for the second time.

Dennis grabbed my bottles. I downed an S!Cap, a gel, some soda and melon. I asked where Bev was, and found out she was only 7 minutes ahead! Melissa told me to stay in my game, and I said it was the only game I know, and with great support and full bottles, I lit off down the trail. Not too far ahead I could see Sander, but never closed the gap. After a long downhill stretch, the PCT flattened, then began to rise to bring me to the Maiden Peak Trail aid station, where Brian and Bob had hiked in to offer support. Brian gave me another Vespa, and told me Bev was about 3 minutes ahead. I had my filled bottles, a gel, ate more melon and soda, and started the last long climb of the day. I was 12 minutes behind my splits, but was more concerned with whether or not I could catch Bev. My eyes strainging ahead, I was able to hike and jog much of the climb, but no Bev. I wasn't feeling all that great, but not dead either. Breaking out to the open near the top, the volunteer told me "10 minutes to the top". I left my bottles, and started the grind up. Gary was on his way down and said I was reeling them in - I knew he meant Bev, but didn't know who else. Joelle had not been mentioned to me for hours, so I knew she was way out of the picture. Very near the top, I finally met Bev coming down. "I'm on your tail girl!" I said. She mumbled something in reply, and I finally summited a mere 2 minutes behind her. Tommy was recording runners at the top and provided encouragement to go after her. I wasted little time getting back to my bottles, and onto the Leap of Faith trail, looking for Bev. Faster and faster I flew to the Maiden Lake aid station. The kindly women of this aid station got me in and out as quickly as possible. Bev had left only a minute or 2 ago.

Leaving the aid station, my legs were a bit fried for the climbs, but eventually they started to roll. Every turn in the trail I hoped to see Bev. I would not let up, even passing the urge to pee lest I end up losing to her by 30 seconds. Up and down, around turns, I finally reached the PCT again. I let it rip the best I could. Bev HAD to be there somewhere. The down hills were going well, but every flat spot was like running in sand. The Rosary Lakes in their cool beauty beckoned me to come in, but I resisted. I spotted Odell Lake, and knew I had 20 minutes to the finish. Still, I could not see Bev - I must have really scared her! Not giving up, I even imagined catching her on the final 400 meter stretch, throwing my bottles on the ground and tossing my waist pack to the side, and sprinting by her. Alas, it was not to be. As I reached the final stretch, Alan was there, did a little "Go Meghan, Go Meghan" dance and radioed in that I was on my way.

The last stretch is about the most open section of the entire race, and usually involves running on sandy ground into the wind, but with the crowd at the finish cheering my on, I did my best to "run pretty". I crossed in 11:07 - 19 minutes slower than my best, but much better than last year. Bev had turned on her after burners and beat me by 6 minutes, for which I gave her a deserved hard time about. Joelle had completely smoked us both, breaking my record by 25 minutes, running a stellar 10:23.

As usual, this race was supremely well run - Thank you Craig, Laurie, Curt, all the aid station captains and volunteers, and thanks to Brian and Bob for crewing.

Western States 100 2009

2009-07-05T17:31:00.000-07:00

"You're crazy!" I heard it time and again, and I always agreed. Running in THE Western States 100 mile race 8 days after World Cup 100k was beyond crazy. Stupid is probably more accurate. But, born with a stubborn streak and a 'can-do' attitude, I felt compelled to show up at the start line, knowing that if I didn't, I would regret that more than whatever pain I was about to take on. My soreness gone, my mechanics seemingly working as well as they do, I was hoping to retain a coveted top-10 position so I would be guaranteed a returning spot next year. I also promised my coach that if I started to feel injured at any point I was going to drop, so I really felt no pressure or expectation of a grand performance.

And so it began at 5:00 a.m. While not feeling fresh, I wasn't sore or injured and had test hiked my legs for the flag-raising ceremony 2 days before. I jogged, hiked, jogged out of Squaw, chatting with gal-TeamUSA-mate Connie Gardner for awhile, then Scott Dunlap, and finally Jady Palco, who was uncharacteristically calm and focused. He was particularly pleased to be running States as his mother, Barbara Ashe, was also running, and at the time they were thought to be the first mother-son combo in the history of the race. He was determined to be conservative and get to the finish line in one piece, preferably before Mom.

Finally cresting the top, I was anxious to start running downhill. The line in front of me was daunting, but eventually I made it around a few runners. My usual pattern is swallow lots of ground on the downhill, and struggle on the ups. Eventually I found a good niche amongst the racers near me, and settled into a good effort to Lyon Ridge. I had already been taking S!Caps - my plan was one at every aid station, and anytime I felt nauseous - and I was feeling alright, but my legs were not fresh. The next section to Red Star Ridge I struggled with soreness and the rocky trail. I couldn't for the life of me recall this section being so rocky, but in hindsight I'm sure it was just harder to dance on marbles with tired, sore legs than when I am rested and tapered.

Scotty Mills, RD for SD100 became one of my companions during the early hours. I had met Scotty last winter in San Diego, and he learned of my foolish attempt, so each time he would pass me he would comment "I can't believe you're doing this! You're such a stud!" And I would pass him later, and back and forth it went. Caryn Spore was also trading with me every up and down (she is such an animal on the uphills) and calling me her hero. I think it would have been more appropriate to comment on my insanity and lack of setting a good example for the children. Nonetheless, I enjoyed their company.

Just before Red Star Ridge aid station I met Susan Brozic from New Mexico. We ended up running together fair amount throughout the morning. She was nursing a broken toe and torn calf, and wasn't sure how far she would make it, but she moved very well. From Red Star to Duncan Canyon, I was not feeling great. I gave the altitude and tired legs credit for that, and hoped I wasn't too far off my splits from '07. Jed Tuckman, another Cali runner I had trained a couple of times, was just ahead of my on the newly machined dust trail leading into the aid station, when I hit my foot on something and smacked the ground hard, hitting my face on a rock. Always the first thought - "Is my race over???". Jed turned back, picked up my bottle, and assured me the face wound was superficial, and it didn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would. I made a feeble attempt to brush the dirt off, got my wheels going again, and gave our infamous Glenn Tachiyama a thumbs up as he clicked my picture going by.

Oh yeah, lookin' good!

I cruised into Duncan Canyon. Brian was ready with chocolate milk, Vespa, and a sense of humor. The kind aid station volunteers did their best to wipe my face and sponge me off. I asked Brian and Theresa to have a clean shirt for me at Dusty Corners. I iced up and was soon on the trail following Scotty again. When we finally reached the creek, it was heating up quite a bit. Scotty tip-toed across the rocks as I plunged in and sat down. "Sit down Scotty!" and he said "Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking" as he too doused himself well. Climbing out ahead of me he turned to let me know that Jenn Shelton was in sight. When I finally caught up to her, she said her legs were trashed. I encouraged her to keep going and be sure to cool off in the streams, and that she could recover.

Finally to Robinson Flat, I was weighed and then I asked for blister help for a hot spot on the back of my heel. Quickly patched up, Ed ran me down to Laura and Alec, and the three of them plus assorted Oregon crews had me fed, ice in my bandana, and gave me a hearty send off. Someone shouted "1 mile of uphill then 15 miles of down!" I liked the sound of that. When I finally started the downhill, I was pretty uncomfortable. My legs were sore, and didn't want to roll. Patiently I took switchback after switchback, hoping for some turnaround until I admitted to myself that I didn't have to finish this race. I had nothing to prove, a perfect excuse to quit, no one would be surprised. I continued this negative self talk all the way to Miller's Defeat, but the aid station volunteers cheered me up and sent me on my way. I knew I could run the next three miles into Dusty Corners, and didn't want to let my crew down - especially Theresa who had flown all the way from Boston to run me in from the river. The decreased altitude was also starting to play in my favor, and by the time I arrived, I was in much better spirits. I ate, iced up and scooted out again, running much of Pucker Point trail with Susan. It was really hot now, but I had been slamming the salt and keeping cool with the ice and feeling better in this section than any previous race here. At Deadwood, I actually felt like eating pbj, soup, and soda. My weight was reasonable, the volunteers sponged me down, and I was on my way.

I caught an overheated Scotty Mills one more time. "Hey Scotty! I got cleaned up!" He grinned and said "Yes, you did! But you know what? Now you're just pissing me off! What you're doing out here today? It's just wrong!" We both laughed, and I resisted the temptation to say "eat my dust!" Once more I caught Caryn before heading down the trail to the swinging bridge. I gingerly made my way down, happy for the gravity assist, but not happy with the leg jello. At the swinging brigde, I gu'd, salted, and began the long hike up to the Devil's Thumb. For the first time since running in Western States, I felt fine - even good - in this section, jogging the very few flat bits. Caryn and I arrived about the same time, and efficiently got in and out. As we approached the descent into El Dorado, she again let me go ahead. It seemed to take forever to get to the bottom, and the exposed sections made me want to gasp it was so hot. Again, the volunteers took great care of me, and I was on soon on my way to Michigan Bluff.

My hike was still decent, and I could even jog a few places, and just near the end, I passed a struggling Sean Meissner. He declined any help, but seemed to still have some determination. Arriving to the cheering MB is always a boost. Brian and Theresa took good care of me, quickly, as I said I wanted to try to stay ahead of Caryn. As Theresa ran up the street with me, she said Caryn just arrived. I expected her catch me on the long, hot, uphill road on the way to Volcano Canyon, but I got to the downhill and she wasn't in sight. With tentative legs, I made my way down, down, down, wondering if these switchbacks would ever end. Finally at Volcano Creek, I gave myself the promised laydown into the cold water, completely dousing. I had hot spots on the balls of my feet that I knew needed attention, and when I met Ed at Bath Road, I asked him to go ahead to Foresthill and see if the aid station folks would fix them. When I arrived they were ready, and after a very long, meticulous treatment during which Caryn came and went, I was ready to roll. Brian, Theresa, Ed, and now Prudence got me fed and filled up with ice while I was sitting, and finally I was going to run my favorite section with Prudence to keep me going.

It was 6:00 p.m. and the road from the school to California Street felt like an oven. It was the most intense heat I had experienced all day, and finally we made it to the dirt. We fairly cruised along, stopping briefly at Cal 1 for Gu, soda, gel, and salt. We kept a good pace on the flats and downhills, but the climbs were getting pretty tough. Prudence did a great job reminding me to breath deeply, by doing so herself (sort of like being in a yoga class). At Cal 2 I was happy and disappointed simultaneously to see Jeff Riley and his pacer Tom Atkins. I wanted him to have a good race, but obviously it wasn't his day. We encouraged each other, but I was in and out before he was ready to go. The downhill section from Cal 2 was feeling pretty good, and I was thinking we might still make it to the river before dark. Between Cal2 and Cal3, I saw a runner ahead to focus on, and I saw that he was listing rather severely. I felt sorry for the poor guy, and even more so when I realized it was Rob Cain with his pacer Erin. "Rob! What's going on? Why are you listing?" He smiled and said he didn't really know why, but he was suffering. I wished him well, and knew he was in good hands. After a surprisingly nice Cal 3 aid station, I could finally hear the sounds of the river crossing activity, and although Prudence pulled out her light, I ran in before it turned pitch black. I was very excited to have made it in about 3 hours from the school.

After weighing in, John Ticer approached me with a message for Scott Wolfe's crew that Scott was in medical on this side of the river. Prudence and I ran down to the river, and began the most fun event of the day. The water felt great, albeit a bit sting-y on some chaffed areas. I could hear Theresa and Ed whooping it up as we made our way over.

Once on dry land, I ate potato soup, grabbed my headlamp, changed waist packs, said hello to Linda and Bruce, while Brian and Ed made sure I had what I needed. Scott's crew was no where in sight. Prudence gave Theresa the pacing duties, and we high tailed it out of there. Near the top we met Scott's SO Siri, and gave her the news. Up at Green Gate, we passed on anymore aid, and headed into the darkness. Theresa seemed to be struggling with the trail a bit, so I reminded her to relax and pretend she was running in her local park, and to trust her proprioception. She laughed, claiming I was pacing her - but she soon got in a groove and we cruised along the flats, hiked the hills, and methodically picked off runners one at time. I had no idea what kind of pace or splits we were running but I felt that I would at least get a sub-24 buckle if nothing dramatic happened. ALT was uneventful, and we kept cruising. Ahead of me, I saw some lights again, and as we got closer, I saw that it was Caryn! Theresa asked if I wanted to pick it up, and I said "No, she's coming back to us, let's be patient."On a small switchback, Caryn could see and hear me, and put the pedal down. I thought she would still come back to us, but that was the last I saw her until the finish. Obviously she had more in the tank than I. I took another tumble, landing hard on my hand, hyper-extending my thumb and finger. No matter how many tumbles, I have yet to do anything that would label me as "Ticer Tough". No bones sticking out of the skin, no shredded ankle ligaments - just dirt and scrapes. Moments later, Theresa took a spill, which she claimed was out of sympathy.

Into Brown's Bar, I had more potato soup. Theresa announced what I needed every time we came in to an aid station, and I had everything in moments notice. She also asked the volunteers - "Doesn't she look great???" to which they would all agree. It was, after all, fairly late, dark, and possibly somewhat boring. She added a nice entertainment factor for them, I'm sure. Leaving Brown's Bar I warned Theresa that it was long, down, and technical. I tried gingerly running but it proved to be just as fast for me to walk down. Again, I had forgotten how long it took to get to the Quarry Road, but finally, we were there. Surprisingly, I found myself running some of the uphills, getting pretty excited as we approached Highway 49. We the spotter announced us coming, Ed let out his usual whoop, and we arrived to the cheers of Brian, Ed, Laura and Alec. Laura said Jeff was picking it up, and that he might catch me. That cheered me up - I would have loved nothing better. While I was getting ready, Scott Wolfe and John Ticer fairly flew through the aid station - another great surprise! I was so glad Scott had been able to turn around his misfortunes from early in the day.

Before I left, Brian said "Meghan, would you please say something to Dan before you leave? He is really having a hard time." Until then I hadn't seen him sitting in a chair, blanket in lap, with his pacer Matt gently massaging his legs, and his wife Courtney at his side being supportive of whatever needed to be done. I rubbed Dan-O's head - "Hey Dan - there's still time to feel better. Don't give up yet." Had I known what he had already gone through, I might have said "get to the hospital and better luck next time" or something to that effect. It was very sad to see him like that, but he was in very good hands.

Theresa and I headed out and could see Scott and John for one last time before they put a lot of distance on us. Quite alone, we made our way to No Hands Bridge. A good luck hug from Shannon Weil, and we were crossing the bridge. Before we made it to the climb to Robie Point, I saw the familiar gait of Alan Abbs. When I finally reached him I said "Alan, it took me FOREVER to catch you today!" He had left his stomach back at ALT and had nothing left to push hard to the finish. At last, the climb to Robie, and I could hear Ed. Theresa and I both hollered, he replied, and we were on our way to the school. We walked and ran the climbs, then crossed the white bridge, and ran what felt fast down to the school and onto the track. Ed and Theresa escorted me around the track, to my finish time of 21:33. I had achieved my main objective of placing in the top 10 and run a time only 45 minutes slower than 2007.

Quite relieved to be done, I went through the "Vet Check" - my blood pressure was a little high (I was excited!) so I had to sit quietly for a spell. I was also part of a blood sodium level study, and had my blood drawn for that. Surprisingly, it was slightly below normal, even though I had taken at least 3x the amount of salt I had in the past. My second BP pressure was normal, so I was released. The rest of the wee small hours were spent napping, eating, drinking, waiting and cheering for the last runners. At 11:00, most of Team Sunsweet and crew went to see Dan in the hospital. He was in pretty good spirits, and seems he'll be among the running again in the future.

I want to especially thank Brian, Theresa, Ed and Prudence for their stellar performances all day long! You guys are the best!

Race Day!

2009-06-25T09:10:00.000-07:00

Friday morning began with a technical meeting with our managers and crews. Lin had been to the technical meeting for all the team managers the night before, and she and Lion explained the lay of the aid stations. The loops were not 20k each as I had previously thought, but an initial 23k loop, and four 19k or so loops. All 5 loops contained the 19k loop, but adding the 4k to the initial loop made the first 2 loops equal the distance of a marathon – for the few thousand participants running 'only' 26.2 miles. Then due to the nature of the roads, houses, turns, and towns, the aid stations were placed according to what was the most convenient for getting crews and volunteers to the aid stations, rather than being placed 5k apart. There were a total of 5 aid stations per loop, and we had crew at 3 of them, and since the other 2 were close enough, I only placed bottles at those with our crew.

Each runner was assigned crew members – I was given Lin – who would travel by foot between aid stations D and E that were close together 'as the crow flies' and Maria Spinnler at aid station C.

The rest of the day was spent preparing bottles, napping, focusing on hydrating, eating sensibly but amply enough to sustain us for our 8:00 p.m. start. We decided to gather at 2:00, and with the hotel management's generous approval, Lion and Susan used the kitchen to prepare pasta and sauce, salad and bread.

Kami and I had cooked rice the day before and added that plus some eggs to the menu. I ate a bowl of rice and 2 fried eggs, then went back to my room for some rest. I dozed lightly, and at 4:00 delivered my prepared flasks of EFS with Pre-Race added, and my flasks of EFS gel. I rested again until 5:00, had a cup of coffee, and at 6:00 got dressed for team photos.

At 6:30, Kami, Tyson and I drove to the Torhout sports center, and joined the team relaxing outside near the track. The masses were arriving – we were told there would be a total of 7000 participants in the 100k run, 100k walk, 10k run, and marathon. Of those 7000, there were 130 men and 70 women in the World Championship representing several countries.

Kami and I started warming up on the track at 7:20. It did not feel like evening at all. The sun was still fairly high, the temperature warm, but mild. After a few laps and strides, we made our way to the race start. Those competing in the World Cup had been promised a separate corral from the marathoners and open 100k racers, but it was not to be. We wedged our way in, trying to locate team members. We were fairly smashed in when the race management began waving that we had to back up. We became more and more squeezed, getting hotter and a bit irritated until we were sardines and the management was satisfied. At last, there was a countdown, and the race began.

The mass surged forward, and through the narrow streets, somewhat chaotically. I managed to stay in contact with Kami heels as the crowd slightly strung out. My plan was to keep my heart rate under 167, something coach Bob and I had recently learned from a physiology test was top end of my aerobic zone. My pace was to be dictated by heart rate, and I was hoping that pace would be in the low 7s. For the first couple of miles, it was around 164 and the pace was low 7, but the effort felt a little to rich, so I watched Kami gradually drift away. At 161, I felt very relaxed and comfortable, and came to the first 5k in just under 22 minutes. It was the first aid station, and Lion had barely gotten there in time. He was holding 3 bottles for 3 runners, I pointed to mine, and he smoothly got it to me.

The first loop of the course was in the daylight, and it was very pleasant. Many families and friends were having outdoor parties in their front yards, toasting and cheering us on as we passed. I continued monitering the HR - whenever it got above 162, it felt too much for 8 hours of running, but bringing it down was easy. I was focusing when I heard a voice behind me say "Hey Meghan, hows it going?". It was Kami, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "What are you doing back here?" I asked. Her orthotic was giving her problems so she had stopped to adjust it. We ran together for awhile, then she made a pit stop, so I ran on, prepared not to be so freaked out next time she caught up. Eventually she did, we ran together awhile, but finally she drifted away again.

The next 5k was 22:25, and 15k, 20k, and 25k, were all under 23. During the last 5k my stomach had begun cramping a bit, but I attributed it to the afternoon meal, and after a quick portapotty stop was sure I was good to go. Mike Spinnler had told me after 15k that I was in 3rd place, and to take it easy, just relax. I was surprised at the placing, but felt really relaxed and in control. I had been taking S!Caps at every 6-7k, drinking my E.F.S. and nipping on a gel flask to keep my energy up. With the stop in the 26-30k section, my time was over 23. I felt that the next 5k would be back under 23, but apparently my stomach wasn't done, and I found myself in the bushes. Well, maybe this time I was done! But alas, it became the story of my race. I stopped eating the gel, afraid it was the problem, and continued with the E.F.S. and S!Caps. The next time I saw Lin, I asked for water with my drink, and she had a carton for me. The water went down well, and I sipped the E.F.S. My stomach continued to rebel, and as darkness took over, my pace continued to drop with my HR. If I pushed the pace, the stomach cramped and nausea set in. 35k, 40k, 45k were all between 7:45-8:00 pace, which included 4 more pit stops, and I finally made it to 50k in 3:50. Feeling as raw as I did, it seemed highly unlikely I would run under my PR of 7:52.

Mike had done a good job throughout of relaying my place. I had been passed by a Norwegian woman and a Russian woman, so I was in 5th. I begged myself to not slow further, just keep trying to keep some fluids going in. It was quite dark now, but the street lights were fairly ample even in the countryside. As we passed through each of the two villages the course ran through, we were greeted and cheered by hearty revelers, imbibing in good Belgium beer. If it wasn't "U S A! U S A!" it was "We can DO it!" being shouted. The cheers were good for motivating me, but the stomach wouldn't allow me to continue hard.

Out in the lonlier countryside, I heard a familiar voice. Devon was catching up and Carolyn was with her. While not being excited about being caught, I was so glad to have teammate company I let it go. Devon grilled me on my issues, and helped me tremendously by suggesting I try some Vespa at the next aid station where Lion had her stash. We three ran together for quite awhile, getting more cheers than ever, running in 4th, 5th, and 6th place. Wondering what had bumped us up a place, Devon and Carolyn explained to me that the Russian woman had been DQ'd for having a bicycle pacer that had to be removed more that once by the local police.

Devon was feeling great, and she pulled away from Carolyn and I, promising to tell Lion to have a Vespa ready for me. Moments after she pulled on, I had to visit bushes again, letting Carolyn pull ahead. When I pulled into the aid station, Lin was ready with my drink, but I slowed to a walk and said "we need to problem solve. My stomach is cramping, I am dehydrated, and I am losing water with all of my pit stops. Lion is supposed to have a Vespa for me." We jogged to Lion who met us, ready with the Vespa and the race drink "Aquarius" which he instructed me to just sip at. I downed the Vespa, took the drink and jogged out. I was at 60-70k now, and hoping for some turn around.

Carolyn was still in sight, and I worked on catching up to her. Just when I did, I had one more pit stop, but then it was over. My stomach calmed, and I was back to Lin and Lion, with 20k to go. I was feeling better, and once more, I pulled back up to Carolyn. We worked together, and she told me I could go ahead if I wanted. She was on PR pace big time, and I wanted to work with her. When we got to 15k to go, I said the preposterous thing ever. We were at 6:47 with 9.3 miles to go, and I said "think we can run 9 miles in one hour?" I didn't think more, and said - "I think I'll go ahead and try to get my record" (7:52) and pulled ahead. She graciously encouraged me on. In about one minute, I did the math. Really? I think I can run 7 minute pace for 9 miles when I haven't run that fast all day? I had no idea how fast I was going, given the darkness and inability to read my watch, but I felt I was lucky to be going under 8 minute pace. However, I did feel like pushing it.

Out in the countryside, I could see the cathedral that would be the end of the run, lights glowing within. I got excited, until I realized I was going away from it for awhile. The road zigged and zagged and the cathedral seemed to move as well. My mind was willing to surge, but the body would only respond for awhile. I pushed and flagged until finally reached the town, turned a few more turns, and finally crossed the finish line in 8:04, good for 5th place. Relieved to be done, I turned around and was stunned to see an Irish woman cross the line a mere 20s behind me. Now I was glad I had surged (such as it was). Carolyn finished in 8:07, a nine minute PR. Devon had broken 8 hours by a minute, and Kami had won -rocking the course in 7:33. Connie finished in a respectable 8:42. After studying my splits and HR, it appears that I never really picked it up again, but I did prevent a total slowdown at the end, averaging 7:45 pace for the race.

We hung around the finish for a bit, and as we walked to our van, the morning light arrived. Back at our hotel, we showered, and rested up until the awards ceremony. Outside the sports center was a usual site of a french fry vendor, and we were happy to oblige.

The award ceremony was emotional for me when Kami was announced as the winner of the Gold Medal, and although I have never felt teary during the national anthem before, something about my teammate on the podium did it for me.

Then it was time for team presentations.

We later learned that the Russian woman had NOT been disqualified, but the Norwegian runner had dropped. Next year, we will be in Gibraltar, in November. If you want to have a great adventure and come crew Team USA, start saving your pennies!

Belgium - Days 3 and 4

2009-06-19T05:44:00.000-07:00

Wednesday morning, Kami and I took a walk back to the town square in Brugge, but sadly I left the camera at home, thinking we wouldn't see anything different from the day before. The first thing was a beautiful swan floating down the canal, and when we arrived at the square, were pleased to see the farmer's market was in full force. There were a number of booths with rotisseries, and the smell of roasting chicken was nose candy, while the produce stands were eye candy. A boistrous vendor selling cherries placed large cherries in the hands of we onlookers, and I bought a kilo on the spot it was so delicious. There were imported fruits and veggies along side the local, as well as flowers and garden plants. We meandered up and down some of the streets, and eventually returned to the hotel, checked out, and headed up the road to our final destination.

Our hotel accomodations were located on the edge of Torhout in Hotel d'Aertyrcke which is still a mystery to me in terms of the history, since all I have found is written Flemish.

The castle is nearly surrounded by a moat and some nice short running trails. The hotel is situated behind the castle.

Kami and I went for a short run, mostly on trail. It felt nice to get off the pavement. We then had a team meeting - it was great to see everyone again - Adam Lint, Michael Wardian, Chad Ricklefs, Howard Nippert, Carolyn Smith, Devon Crosby-Helms, and our team managers - Lin Gentling, Mike Spinnler, and Lion Caldwell. Connie was delayed 8 hours in Philly, but made it in by 11:00 p.m.

I slept well Wednesday night, didn't get up until 9:00. After breakfast, Mike and Lin took those interested for a tour of the course. What should have lasted 30 minutes (given it is a loop course of about 20k) took 1.5 hours due to the circuitous nature of the town with its one-way streets, and the course going the opposite direction of said streets, and just general confusion. We got the gist of it - when the course enters a town center, there are lots of sharp turns, occassional cobblestone, and when rural, there are longer stretches of decent pavement. I think the total elevation gain for the race is 8 meters.

Upon returning, I went for my final run, then showered and lounged about until 7:00, when we all gathered up to go to town for the parade of nations. Conflicting reports resulted in us getting to town as the parade was starting, so we dashed to the start, Kami and Howard grabbed the flag, and we fell in behind, passing out small USA flags and pencils to children.

Emma

Kami learning Flemish from Emma - ' "Loper" means running.'

Back to the hotel for one more night. I was up until 10:30, noting it was still light.

Belgium - Day 2

2009-06-16T12:56:00.001-07:00

As I mentioned, our hotel host, caters to a lot of cyclists, and Team Farnese Vini was there.

Jergeun also has several cyclist's jerseys framed and displayed throughout the premises and in the rooms. The hotel used to be a monastery, and he has renovated it and added another set of rooms.

He suggested a running route for Kami and I, and we went out for our first post-flight jaunt. We both felt a bit rusty, but eventually warmed up.

Dinner at the hotel was excellent, and we had fun looking at the menu, guessing what we might end up with. Typical of Europeans, we were in the dining room for a good two hours. Next morning's breakfast included perhaps the best croissant I have ever eaten. The yogurt was great. I love European food!

After breakfast, we hit the road towards Brugge. Jurgeun had suggested we stop in the town of Damme near there. It is an artist's community, very small, and nice to run around. We did as suggested, following the "Nature Path" which wound us through and around the town.

After the run, we had lunch at a place that specializes in pancakes. I continued my uncharacteristic consumption of meats, vowing to start thinking of pre-race food sometime tomorrow. We continued on to Brugge, checked into our hotel, and crashed into nap land for a good 2 hours.

Around 7:00 we headed out to explore Brugge and find some dinner. We walked throughout the town center, reading menu after menu, many of them offering similar fare.

We finally decided on one, and each decided to have something Flemish. For me it was a beer, served in a funny glass with a wooden handle - kind of spill proof.

Just one sip and already everything is fuzzy!

For a starter I went with the mussels, only because it is a Belgian specialty. Fortunately, they were in a cream sauce and covered with cheese. Pretty hard to go wrong! They were pretty good, but still a bit on the chewy fishy side.

My entre' was "Rabbit in the Flemish Way". Still makes me giggle - many things were on the menu as "in the Flemish Way".

Dessert was a very reasonably sized portion of very good ice cream.

Day 2 is in the books!

Belgium - Day 1

2009-06-15T20:44:00.000-07:00

Leaving Portland at 7:30 a.m. put me in Brussels at 7:00 the next morning, with a layover in DC and maybe 2 hours of sleep. I was to meet Kami and Tyson that afternoon so we could spend the first couple of days together, chilling out and doing some relaxing site seeing. With time to kill waiting, I stored my luggage at the airport, hopped a train to "Brussels Centrale" to get a glimpse of the city.

Early morning found the city to be fairly mellow. Being in a typical European city built from the center and radiating out in a circular fashion, and being a bit loopy from sleep deprivation, I was particularly mindful of being able to find my way back. My first quest (a frequent habit of mine) was to find a little something to eat. At the suggestion of my friend Sunny, I headed towards "Grande Place", not really knowing what I would find. I stopped at a small town square that had several eateries, and chose the one where everyone else seemed happy, and bought a chocolate almond croissant, plopped onto a park bench and munched.

My Breakfast Companion

The architecture on the way was already causing me to stand with my mouth hanging open (I forget my manners when loopy), but the buildings that made up Grand Place were, well, Grand!

I continued wandering the narrow cobblestone streets, and upon seeing this in a souvenir storefront window:

was reminded of the story of "Manneken Pis", and although I didn't actually look for the real thing, it does appear to be a popular site.

I hadn't killed too much time, so I decided to take a city bus tour. This turned out to be a great way to see the city, learn a little history, and take more pictures, until my battery died.

This fountain had a big basin beneath, and there were a few others like it nearby, attached to the side of a building.

Outside the Museum of Art

There was a lot of information that went in my groggy head, and didn't stay with me. I did learn that there is a king of Belgium, and we went by the palace. There were a number of beautiful parks with sandy paths good for running.

After the tour, I made my way to the train station, bought a lovely chicken Panini, hopped on the train without a ticket, for which I was busted by the conductor ("It ees much cheeeper if you buy zee ticket before you get on"). Three euros is still not bad.

Back at the airport, I found more food, then found a chair and passed out for about an hour and half. Kami and Tyson arrived, we picked up a rental car, and made our way north to a "sporting hotel" that Kami had found on the internet. It has been delightful - the owner/operator, Juergen, is very friendly, and caters to athletes. At present there is a cycling team from Italy staying here - more about all of this later today.

Boston Marathon 2009

2009-04-23T19:19:00.000-07:00

This year I was very excited for Boston. I had been healthy all year, had lots of miles and workouts under my belt, and felt like a PR was possible if all the stars were aligned. The weather was mostly looking cooperative, with the exception of an East wind predicted up to 15 mph. Since the advent of the Elite Women's Start, the top 50 or so women begin the race 28 minutes before everyone else, to allow the women exposure and a sense of their competition. The down side to this is in a fairly short amount of time, the women are very spread out, and we have less opportunity to work with groups of runners to fight the wind.

Monday morning felt relatively mild. At 6:20 I walked the one+ mile to the elite athlete bus, passing the 1000's of runners lined up in Boston Common to get their rides from one of the many school buses lining the streets. It was a sight to behold - so much excitement and energy! Once on the bus, Devon caught my attention and I took a seat beside her. At 7:00 a.m. we were all loaded and given the traditional motorcycle escorted ride-in-style out to Hopkinton, and deposited into the Korean Church. We quickly dispersed into various rooms, sitting, stretching, eating, drinking.

Relaxing before the dance

Mary getting her back number pinned on

At 9:00, the women went out the back of the church to warm up in a residential street. In small street length circles, we jogged, eying the field of "who's who" - most notably Kara Goucher, under the watchful eye of Salazar, plus Colleen DeRueck, Elva Dryer, the strong Russian contingent, as well as the Ethiopeans and Kenyans. I was warming up with Devon and Mary Akor - an underrated 2:33 marathoner.

The air was chilly, but dry, so when it finally came time to assemble at the start, shorts, singlets, gloves and arm warmers were sufficient to stay warm. With the field being so competitive, I didn't qualify for special fluids, so decided to carry a half bottle of EFS to ensure I would get something down for awhile. I tucked a gel flask in my right arm warmer to use when my fluid was gone. I also knew there would be bottled water on the course.

Kara was getting well deserved attention from the media as the race time approached. We were given well wishes from Ingrid Kristiansen, and finally the time arrived. The gun went off, and anticipating a quick spread of the field, I was surprised to find myself in a dense pack. Either I was really fit or we were going really slow by the standards of the top women. We cruised gently downhill, reaching the 1k in 4:00. Slow. At this point, Colleen, a bit frustrated with the pace broke away. None of the open competitors chased her - presumably no one wanted to take charge going into the wind, and mile one was a unspectacular 6:30. Finally the top women picked it up and broke away, with a trail of runners in their wake. Devon made her way to my side, and we began our work together in lock step. Anxious to get on 6:20 pace, we went through miles 2 and 3 in 6:10 pace.

Devon's pink and black striped socks were the topic of interest as we passed the hordes. "Love dah sahcks!" was repeated time and again, and Devon ate it up, giving the hang-loose sign and a few high fives. Miles 4 and 5 went smoothly, averaging 6:15 miles, despite the headwind. The field was quite spread out by now, ahead and behind, but Devon and I continued our work side-by-side. I was keeping a close eye on my heart rate monitor (HRM) - each climb or increase in wind brought it higher than I desired, so every downhill or occasional lessening of the wind, I focused on relaxing, trying to get it down.

The next 4 miles were slower - averaging 6:30. When the wind would blast, Devon and I would exchange complaints, then fall silent as we pushed on. During mile 11, Devon began to fall back. I yelled back "Devon, stay with me! Come on!" She pulled back up, saying she hoped I wouldn't notice. I told her to run behind me for awhile to draft, and we hung together awhile longer. Mile 11 was 6:33, then mile 12 - 6:21 and through the Wellesley scream tunnel - it seemed louder than ever this year. I wasn't sure where I was overall pace wise, but when I reached the first half in 1:23 plus, I realized my time goal of 2:44 was not happening today. The wind was costing too much. Devon dropped off pace again, and I surged on.

I consider myself a time trialist at heart, but at this point in this race, I had a change in mindset. I decided to race. I looked ahead at the very spread out field - I could only see 2 runners ahead - and decided to focus on them and try to reel them in. I was also being driven by Brian's request to not dwell on his ongoing health issues and the tendency that has to bring me down, but to run hard instead. So with that fuel, I powered on. Miles 14 and 15 were 6:23, 6:33 - through the town of Wellesley. I was looking forward to mile 16 - my cousins Delissa, Quentin, Alex and Samantha would be there cheering me on. The fans were thick and my eyes scoured the crowd when I finally spotted Quentin cheering loudly. As usual, family boosted me up.

Mile 16!

I had my eyes on number 36 - a women in pink socks and blue shorts - she was coming closer back all the time, while at the same time, number 30 caught and passed me on an uphill. I came through mile 16 and 17 at 6:24 pace, and began up the first of the Newton Hills. I had been taking EFS gel from a flask, grabbing water at aid stations to wash it down. Thirty was pulling away, and I was staying even with 36. Near the top of the hill, the bicyclist for the lead men came by, assuring me I was in a good position to let the men come through. Then the lead vehicles for the men came through, and although the cameras were all focused on the men, I felt a bit like a fish in a fish bowl looking at all those lenses. Shortly after, the two lead men - Merga and Rona - absolutely flew past, heels flying as high as their heads. Then a pack of three, including Ryan Hall. It was very inspiring, and after cresting the hill, I was surprised to find that my legs were still feeling strong. I let my stride open and dropped 36, and focused on catching 30. Mile 18 split was 6:41, and 19 was 6:33 - I was surprised that I was running that fast given the hills, wind, and distance. My ultra persona jumped in and shouted that I had better hurry up because this race was almost over and I needed to work hard to the finish.

Before mile 20, I saw the number one seeded female master walking slowly by the side of the road. I slowed slightly as I passed and touched her on the shoulder. She appeared understandably distraught. I felt for her.

After mile 20 (6:44) was the infamous Heartbreak Hill. Number 30 pulled away again, but I didn't fade terribly. Halfway up the hill I spotted something I could not figure out - it appeared to be a man running up the hill with his legs swinging side-to-side. At first I thought someone from the crowd was in the street mocking the runners, but as I approached I realized he was a double amputee with prosthetic legs that swung laterally as he propelled himself forward. He was accompanied by a pacer who was doing a great job of the engaging the crowd with the runner, and they were cheering him wildly. Suddenly, I was at the top of the hill, with my slowest split of the day of 7:14. Still, I was able to push. The next few miles were blurs of crowds, the men's field, aid stations, and trying to close the gap on the few women ahead I could see. Unbelievably, I was feeling good and strong. My heart rate was still strong, not falling like it often does at the end of a race. I felt my calves cramping a bit, so I managed to get an S!Cap from my sleeve, but had no water. I popped it in my mouth and after a few minutes was able to swallow it, and desperately scanned ahead for the next aid station and grabbed some water. Miles 22, 23, 24 were 6:18, 6:34, 6:19.

It was almost over - and I still had some women ahead in sight. Number 30 had pulled further ahead, but another woman in a white jersey was slowing. I just kept focusing and driving, and mile 25 came in 6:30. Now the sounds were deafening, and with each street turn, I was closer to the white shirt. On the final turn, I caught her. I could see the finish line, very far away, and yet another woman within striking distance. Another gear was found, and halfway to the finish, I passed her, surged across the finish line. I had no idea what my overall time was even close to, so I was stunned to see 2:49. Close to an even split, it may not have been my fastest time, but it now stands as my best marathon performance ever.

I was escorted into the elite tent, and sat for a spell, and very soon was joined by Devon and then Michael.

Happy Devon

Michael Wardian

The awards ceremony was run as smoothly as always, with much inspiration coming from the older generations and the times they ran. I had the privilege of standing beside Colleen at the awards, for my second place finish in the 45-49 age group. She not only won our age group, but won overall master and was 8th female overall.

Lots of crystal

80 years old and going strong!

Kara

Ryan

Way Too Cool

2009-03-17T20:32:00.000-07:00

Race morning arrived with good conditions - cool, clear, dry. I warmed up with most of Team Sunsweet and gathered at the starting line a bit before 8:00. The usual suspects - Bev and Joelle, plus newbies to the course - Caitlin and Devon - and a few other new-to-me female competitors - made for a stacked women's field. I had a good base going in, felt strong, and ready to make an improvement over the previous 3 years. And I wanted to beat Andy Jones-Wilkens (AJW) to earn a much coveted "Conduct the Juices" hoodie from good friend and ultra-geek Craig Thornley. I was sporting my new joy-sucker (aka - Garmin) that I had programmed with the specific distances between aid stations as well as goal pace ranges for each section, so that if I was going too slow or too fast, the thing would beep at me. I carried one bottle of liquid and a half-filled gel flask that I had mistakenly brought - leaving the full one in the car.

The race started after a loud count-down - and behind the fast men, out shot Bev, Caitlin, and Devon. Not wanting to die in the first two miles, I let them go, biding my time. Joelle soon caught up and ran with me for a spell, as well as Lewis, but they soon drifted away on the first climbs. My first two miles were under 13 minutes, but we were on pavement and a gentle downhill, so I felt in control. My compression socks, however, were already starting to fall. Poor form!

The course had been measured and found to be 1.6 miles short, and this amount was added into the first section of the race. Just over 2 miles on the pavement, we turned onto the trail and headed back against runner traffic below. I heard Dave cheering below to me, and AJW's booming voice not too far back. I anticipated that once he got warmed up he would bomb right by me.

Keeping myself under control, I could see Joelle ahead. I hoped she wouldn't put too much distance on me, and then I was passed by two more women - 'pink' (wearing bright pink gators), and green - I don't remember what but something she had on was green. Soon I was running up on "Tat Man" - one of the strangest experiences yet - his pace was erratic - fast, slow, fast, slow - and didn't seem to matter about the terrain. He told me I should keep up with Green - she had a good pace going, and gave me more advice about the runners way ahead. I did what I always do - ran within myself and planned on running strong for 31 miles. And try to stay ahead of AJW.

The course was relatively easy in this section - rolling trail, nothing too technical, until the somewhat rocky, technical drop down into the first aid station at 7 miles. I passed Pink and Green again, but knew they were close behind. The aid station volunteers and running fans were loudly welcoming as we bombed through. I hurried through, looking for Brian to say hi to as I went through, and barely saw him at the last second. Before we could cross Highway 49, the traffic guard yelled very loudly "STOP! STOP! STOP!" just to make sure we knew to wait. When we were given the okay, we crossed, I hit my lap button in 51 minutes - a little faster than I anticipated, so I was pleased.

I was leading a small train onto the trail, offering to move aside to those behind, but everyone was content as we were. This section was rockier than I remembered. I caught a runner and told him there was a train behind, and eventually some of us went past him. Pink was following, and as we emerged onto the road beside the river, she floated by on the downhill. I stayed calm, working at a good effort, and my Garmin was beeping at me. I wasn't sure what it was beeping for - too fast? too slow? The print out was too small to tell, and the thing continued to beep.

I was running fairly solo - a couple of men in front, Pink further ahead, and eventually we reached a significant but runnable climb. I was surprised to find that I actually closed in on Pink here, and after cresting, I remained about 30-40 yards behind her as we traversed the runnable trail to ALT1. As we cruised in at 1:58, we were told we were in 5th and 6th. Carol and Brian were there, cheering me on. I hit my lap button again, and had covered the 8 plus miles in 1:06. I passed Pink on the climb out, but she stayed close behind, and every flat or downhill, she closed the gap, and every climb I pulled away. I guess my pace was okay, as my watch quit beeping at me. Eventually we arrived at the Dead Truck trail, which was much longer and more technical than I remember, and I invited Pink to go by. She floated down in front of me, while I was slightly tentative, partly due to my decision to wear flats that were slightly slippery, and partly due to the vivid memory of breaking/separating a rib in a fall here two years ago.

At the bottom of the trail, the deepest creek crossing loomed. I actually stopped to study this one, as opposed to the all the previous crossings that were shallow and resulted in maybe on shoe filling with water. I definitely decided I was not going thigh high, and briefly looked upstream and found a reasonable crossing, then climbed up the other side. I eased myself into a faster pace as the trail was quite runnable. I wasn't that fresh, but patiently waited to get my wheels going, and after a bit they responded. Pink was out of site, but I knew that Ball Bearing Hill loomed ahead and I would possibly catch her there.

As predicted, I could see her not far ahead once the big climb started. I kept my focus on the ground, not wanting to look up at how long the climb was. My legs were serving me well, and I closed the gap once again. Cresting this climb, she was right in front of me. As I followed her into ALT2 at 2:55, I heard my watch make a fairly long statement before reaching the aid station. I later learned that I had covered the distance of the third leg and it started to measure the next. Not knowing that, I hit the lap button on the way out. I stopped at this aid station, filled a bottle with my EFS powder and water, passed Pink again, and headed back towards Cool. Now we were running against traffic, and it was fun seeing the other runners, cheering them on, and they cheering me on. One calf was cramping, so I managed to put my flask in my jogbra, get my S!Caps out, take one, and keep moving. The cramping persisted, so I took another. Finally, it subsided, and I felt strong enough to push the pace. Pink had dropped off and eventually I came up behind Devon. She looked back, said 'Hey Meghan' - I asked her what was up, and she was having a bit of fatigue. I asked her where the others were, she said not too far ahead, that if I had it in me I could catch them. 'Let me go by then!' I quipped. She cheered me on, and before long I was at Brown's Bar, ready to start the slog that is Goat Hill. Feeling fatigue, but not death, I kept going steady. My hike served me well, and before I got to the top, my Garmin sang out again. How curious, I thought.

I reached the top, asked for an S!Cap but was out of luck. I dug mine out, drank some 7-up and took a gel, hit my lap button and started the downhill, behind another runner. We tore down the hill, I was feeling inspired by the thought that it was mostly downhill to the highway 49 crossing. Then we came to a little grunt of a hill, and I powered up it. Then more downhill to catch my breath. Then another uphill - ugh - who put that there! And more downhill, and then yet ANOTHER uphill with a gnarly little switch back. I grunted and pushed and suffered a huge power outage, and watched my carrot float away. Wow, was I toast. I refused to walk, felt fairly delirious, but convinced myself that I would eventually recover. I looked at my Garmin and realized it had stopped at 26 miles. It had stopped before the summit of Goat Hill, so I had no idea what my current time or distance was.

Before I had my legs back, I heard a familiar pace behind me. Pink had closed in on me one more time. I touched her shoulder as she went by - 'Hey Pink! Great job!' She glided off for the final time. I kept my eyes up, took down one male runner who was more dead than I, and cresting the trail above highway 49, I cruised into the aid station to the sound of "Born to Run". I grabbed two cups of water, and lifted by the music, found the ability to run uphill awhile. During the race I had been waiting to hear the booming voice of AJW, and now more than ever, I hoped not to hear it. I don't think I could have held him off at this point. As the hill became more runnable, I picked up the pace. Happily, Ed was about 400 meters from the finish, cheering everyone on. Great to see his face at this point. I fairly flew the last bit of the race, crossing in 4:23.

Pink was there, and it turns out she has a name - Nicola Gildersleeve. Caitlin Smith impressed us all with her 4:12 win, followed by Bev in 4:17, Joelle in 4:19, and Nicola in 4:21. Devon came in soon at 4:25. I was pleased with my improvement, and with some mistakes to work out, feel that I am not done with this course yet. And I beat AJW and have the sweatshirt to prove it!

Italy Et Cetera

2008-12-05T19:31:00.000-08:00

The days following the race were spent seeing a bit more Italy. Sunday we moved into a hotel in Tarquinia proper, in order to be able to explore the village on foot. After we left our baggage at the hotel, we set out.

A wall surrounding Tarquinia

View from atop the wall

We first went to the Tarquinia museum which displayed artifacts of thousands of years old, including many sarcophagi.

Museo exterior

Sarcophagus on the right

We next decided it was time to indulge in gelato!

Bueno Gelato!

Then we ambled about eventually returning to the hotel. The European style hotel was modern, including the inability to turn on the lights without a special key card....which we didn't know about when we got into our room and couldn't turn any power on. I recalled seeing a basket of key cards sitting at the reception desk, so I went back down, grabbed one, and upon sticking it into the wall receptical, we had light and tv.

At 6:00 we thought it would be good to try to get some dinner, so went to the hotel restaurant. It was very dead, but I found a menu to look over. While doing so, a young man sweeping the front asked if we were planning on eating - they weren't open until 7:00. That was fine, but we were so impressed with his English that we starting plugging him for information. We had been trying to determine how to spend the next 3 days, wanting to include a side trip to the village of Orvieto (which came highly recommended by Kami). We had been inquiring at the touristo office, but the lack of understandable verbal communication had made the plans difficult to nail down. He assured us the best plan was to take the train back to Rome, then take a separate train to Orvieto. He also said we could catch a city bus in the morning with our luggage that would take us to the train station.

Much relieved, we returned to the restaurant a little after 7:00. Our same sweeper was now our waiter. After much deliberation, we finally had our first plate of proper pasta. It was awesome, as was the house red. We liked that so much that we refilled our carafe, which was too much for me, but when in Italy.....

Pasta and vino

The next morning we hit the breakfast room, confronted with many delicious and different breakfast options. I generally wanted some of each, but croissants dressed in different shapes don't really need to all be tested. We were brought some great coffee by the front desk clerk, and we asked him about catching the city bus to the train station. He said - "Oh, please, my colleague, he will take you to the station! Please, finish your food, no hurry." Another fine example of the willingness of the natives to help.

We were driven at the usual breakneck speed to the train station. Upon getting into the station we were taken aback to see that the ticket office. The train conductors fine you if you are caught without at ticket, so we were unsure about what to do. After some aimless wandering and wondering, an Italiano came in and I asked "do you speak English?" He said a little, so I asked about buying train tickets and he pointed to the coffee shop. So, I went in and purchased to 2 tickets to Rome. Oh, that was so easy. We walked out to the platform, validated our tickets (another important requirement resulting in a fine if you forget), and having an hour to wait we came back inside and relaxed.

A few minutes later, the man who spoke some English came back to us. He said "You are going to Rome?" Well, yes, that was the plan. "No trains today" he said, pointing to the schedule. We were a bit dumbstruck. We couldn't interpret the schedule, but he said again that there were no trains, and again "you are going to Rome? I will take you." Wow, dumbfounded again, we fumbled a bit, and he said "come!" So, blindly, we followed him to the parking lot, me thinking - didn't Rick Steves say something about not trusting even business men? Was this a mistake? A big con? Are we going to be shot somewhere? He opened the back of the SUV and I was relieved to see that there was remnants of a bale of hay, so I figured he had farm animals and for some reason that made me trust him.

We climbed in, and took off for Rome, some 60 mile away. I fumbled through the Italian phrase book, and after a bit, determined that there was a train strike that would be over at 9:00 p.m. We introduced ourselves. Our driver was Guilio, and he was a policeman (yeah, right I thought momentarily). We managed to find out that he has lived in Tarquinia for about 3 years and he has a small farm. He was familiar with the agriturismo we had stayed in. He has many animals and crops. Daughters live in north Italy. The speed limit is 130k, but he hit 160 more than once. It was a great drive in, and when we got close to the city, we really experienced the brunt of the strike. Guilio normally takes the train in. It took probably 30 minutes to go 10 miles. The upside is that we saw many ruins and ornate buildings all along the way. We were approached in the car at an intersection by newspaper vendors. We finally reached the train station area, and he said he would stop and let us out. He pointed down the street to where he works as an inspector. Cool! We grabbed our wheelies, and trudged to the train station, pulled out our Rick Steve's book and map, and made our way to a hostel. After we passed it and asked at a tourist office, we found it, entered only by intercom communication. We were allowed in, checked in, left our baggage and set out for the colliseum (one of my 'must see'). Needing some lunch by now, we stopped inside a sandwich shop. The case was full of interesting sandwiches we were unfamiliar with. We pointed to something that looked good, the waiter took it out and panini'ed it, and asked if we would like caffe'. Of course they were asking in Italian and Brian said si' and I said I would like water. He looked at me a little confused. He then held up a bottle that I assumed was bubbly water (we are usually offered flat, with lots of bubbles, and with a few bubbles), and said 'prego'. He proceded to pour me a glass. I thought odd that he would put it in a wine glass until I drank it. Feeling a bit hungover from last night's red, I was not real excited to have wine with lunch, but, when in Italy...

The streets were noisy, fast, and crowded, with narrow sidewalks. One quickly learns that if you want to cross where there is no light, follow an Italian. Any hesitation results in not crossing. Along the way we saw some ruins that for me warranted a stop and photo.

Some Ruins

Nearby views

Ornate buildings

One more turn, and we were met with the awesome Coliseum and the throngs of tourists. I was amazed at the number of people there in mid-November and midweek. We were approached by guides trying to sell us a tour inside, but we resisted.

Coliseum

Entry way into arena stands

Inside the floor is gone, but the underground is where the animals and fighters would come up from.

More inside views

We spent a good deal of time there, and then hiked across the way to Palatine hill to see more sites. Unfortunately we couldn't get in as there was some maintenance issue. I took comfort in more gelato.

We were pretty tired, so made our way back to the hostel. There was a vegetarian bistro in the basement with very good food and a policy of letting the customer name their price. We had excellent food, and asked the chef/waiter/dishwasher what a fair price was, and it was only 25 euros for the two of us, including wine.

Next day, we decided we would do a trip to Orvieto. The trains were running again, so we headed to the station. Trying to buy a ticket for the time we wanted was fruitless. First the line at the ticket office was too slow, so we tried buying tickets at the self-serve machine. The pressure was on, we had about 10 minutes. I was able to get one ticket out, but the machine didn't have correct change, so gave me a printed voucher. That was fine, but I didn' have the right money to put in for the next ticket, and we ran out of time. So now we had one ticket, a voucher for change, and at least another hour to wait in the train station.

I went to the original ticket office and tried to use the voucher for another ticket. No, no, that must be done at the train ticket office, not the tourist office. Okay, so stand in another line for 20 minutes, and get the voucher applied to another ticket. Finally, we had 2 tickets and time to kill. We went to a coffee shop, and witnessed a typical Gypsy woman with baby strapped on begging us for money. Behind her, her young daughter followed in and tried as well. Then she stood in line and begged and then ordered her coffee.

Finally, we were on our way. It took a little more than on hour, and the scenery was nice - very pastoral with many small farms and villages. We arrived and took the funicular up to the the top. The city sits on a volcanic rock, and is filled with cobblestone streets and shops that sell ceramics and Orvieto Classico white wine. At the top is a beautiful, baroque style cathedral from the 14th century.

Brian in front of the rather large duomo in Orvieto

We had a nice lunch of pasta and white wine, then walked around the small town, trying not to get lost in the maze of streets.
On the edge of the city was a beautiful, but leg tingling view.

We made our way back to Rome, had one more night of pasta and pizza, and yet one more experience to try. I really wanted to see the Trevi Fountain. The city is a bit hard to navigate, so I thought why not take a cab. The train station is surrounded by eager drivers, and the first one approached, asked where we wanted to go. I said Trevi, how much? "20 euro". Both ways? "No no, only one way." Too much. We walked on. Another driver asked "where you want to go?" Trevi, both ways, how much? "You take pictures?" No, I just want to see it, how much? "20 euros, both ways". Great! We'll take it! He drove really fast and precariously by our standards, but boy was it fun! He let us out one block away, and said he would wait for us. He didn't ask for any money, trusting us to return. He stood by his car, made a phone call, and we briskly walked to the fountain. It was beautiful, and again I was amazed and disappointed at the number of tourists. We had our look and hurried back to our driver. He was surprised to see us so soon, telling us we didn't have to go that fast. He gave us a bit of history of some of the buildings on our return, a most delightful ending to our stay in Rome.

Next morning we caught the train to the airport, where, due to an Alitalia airlines strike the previous day, we were delayed for 2 hours before getting on the jet only to sit on the tarmac for another hour. But we finally were off, and our adventure came to a happy end.

Tre, Due, Une, Cominciare!

2008-11-13T08:57:00.000-08:00

Day 6 – Race day!

I was up at 6:00, got some coffee, had a shower, then ate a bowl of rice porridge. The race started at 10:00, and Kami's dad was picking me up at 8:00 to drive Kami, Carolyn, Adam, and I over to the race start. The day looked very promising – sunny with a few clouds, no wind. We arrived arrived by 8:30, and eventually found the rest of the team sitting on a sunny step about 100 yards from the start. It was an interesting site for me to see all of the international teams and individual runners from around the world. Not only was this the World Cup Championships, but also the European Championships and an open race as well.

At 9:15 Kami, Carolyn, and I went for a warm up – on a cobblestone street, winding our way around the various turns of Tuscania. Since we didn't want to get lost, we came back the way we started, and then ran a few strides before shedding the extra clothing. I was clad in very little plus arm warmers, and debated whether to leave them on. Connie said I would be too hot, so they stayed behind. I kept gloves on, mainly to keep my hands from getting that annoying stickiness that is inevitable after one aid station of spilling drink or gel on them.

We assembled on the street at 9:45, and we American gals stuck together, wishing each other luck. I wanted to stay with Kami for as long as was comfortable, looking forward to having someone to work with. The final countdown sent us off, and we quickly were funneled down at the first turn onto cobblestones and under an arch, and straightaway we were turning down a narrow alley. There was not much momentum in the first K, and eventually we were on the main street of town, heading past the local spectators, then leaving the town on the rural road. The main roads are marked every K, so Kami and I tried to time them to get a sense of pace. We were running very comfortably, yet the Ks were coming pretty quick. We had no idea of how many women were ahead of us, given the number of men. The course was marked in 5ks, so we were planning on splits between 4:20 and 4:30. At the 5k mark, we checked our time – 21:25 – a little too quick. Our bottles were on the table as planned, and amazingly we found them, given that all 33 countries were set up on about 4 tables, very close together. I was using gel flasks for all of my energy drink, as I was sure I could carry and drink 6 oz comfortably. I was also carrying a gel flask full of gel that I would sip on until it was empty. I had 3 more full gel flasks on the course – hopefully enough to get me through the day. I was also carrying a packet of SCaps! in my sports bra.

Kami and I continued on in a very relaxed and comfortable rhythm. The course was very exposed, but cool still, and mildly rolling. At 10k, our split was 22:12, so we were at least calming down a bit. “Only 90k to go” I was checking my heart rate, and for the most part it was in the 165 range – where I wanted to be – and occasionally 170 or more, but even then I never felt like I was pushing. My hamstrings felt slightly crampy, so I took an SCap! Our 3rd 5k came in 22:37. I was surprised at how quick these were coming, and how relaxed we were running. Around us were mostly men, and all speaking Italian, German, French, Spanish, Norwegian, Swedish, and others. Kami needed to make a pit stop, so I slowed way down to wait for her. I was overtaken by a group of Italians, one cheerfully shouting at me 'Avanti! Avanti!'. We soon caught up with them, and then passed our first woman – a Japanese woman with an extremely fast cadence and short stride. I said to Kami that I hoped we weren't going to be the first women at the 50k, because history has shown that usually who is in first at that point went out too hard.

Our 4th 5k arrived in 22:18. This being only my second 100k on the roads, I didn't and still don't fully comprehend what it is like to race this distance intelligently. We had been running nearly 1.5 hours, and I said “only 6 hours to go!” which was unimaginable. Not impossible, I just felt clueless. At 23k we hit the big long downhill. On this section we caught a British woman, and Kami conversed with her about one of their teammates, Liz Hawker, who was unable to run in this race, but is extremely talented and fun to watch. After the chatting, she wished her well, and we let ourselves roll down the road, ending our 5th 5k in 21:04. During this section, my heart rate came down, so I felt I had recovered from any taxing hills earlier on. My drink was not feeling super palatable, so I took more SCaps!. We were now getting close to the loop portion of the course, and I was getting exciting about seeing our support team. We had a long, flat section, and again, I felt very relaxed, but also wondering about the next 6 hours. Our next split was 22:05, and then we headed south into a head wind. Kami asked if I wanted to take turns leading, so we alternated 2 minutes of pulling for each other. We were also being tailed by some men, but the rules don't allow for women to draft or be paced by any men during the race, so we didn't ask them to return the favor.

Another pit stop by Kami allowed me to slow down and jog a bit. She was back soon, and again we were taking turns pulling until the wind let up. Our 7th 5k was 22:41 including her stop, so we had run very steady so far. We still had 5 hours to go, and I was beginning to feel it in my legs a bit.

We finally came to 36k, the beginning of the loop that we would run about 4.5 times. We had 3 aid stations on the loop, and our support team was dispensed over the course so we would have handlers at every one. Lion was stationed at the first, with Carolyn's sister, and Paris. Aid 2, which was the turning point for either running a loop, or peeling off to run the finish, was aided by Brian, Kami's parents, Lin, Mike, Connie's friend Jim. Aid 3, way out in the middle of the loop was aided by Susan (Lion's wife) and Colin. Each time we came to an aid station we would be greeted by a crew member, and they would run beside us, handing us our aid, asking if we needed anything else. It was good to finally reach this point have familiar faces to look forward to for the next 60+k.

After aid 1, Kami started chatting with a Canadian, and I found myself focused on effort. She was still very relaxed, and I realized I was working. We crossed a bridge that we would cross 5 times – it had a steep pitch, and she drifted away. On the other side, I caught back up, and said I thought she would be on her own soon. Our next split was 22:09, and I said I would be glad with 22:30's the rest of the race.

Finally, we reached our primary support aid station. Brian saw me coming and waved, and as I approached he ran along side me, handing me my bottle and a power gel. On the other side of me was Connie's support, running along asking if I wanted water. Kami's dad was helping her out behind me. We passed Mike Spinnler who was keeping track of runners and times, and Lin was enthusiastically cheering us on.

We turned onto the next road, right into the wind, and Kami strongly went ahead, and I let myself relax. I knew that in order to finish well I had to keep good form, so I slowed until I felt I was really under control. The 26.2 mile mark was flagged, and I was a little stunned to see 3:06. I could afford the slowdown, inevitable as it was. The next 5k was 22:59, and I thought – ok, maybe the next one will be 22:30. But this section of the loop involved headwind, loneliness, trying to get my act together. I came to the third aid station of the loop and was greeted by Susan,who ran beside me asking me what I wanted. I said my bottle, but when we got to the table it wasn't there. Colin got me water, and ran along with me encouraging me the whole time. The sun was a little too warm, I said I was tired, and he assured me I had good reason and I didn't look as tired as others.

Alone again, I kept myself going, looking for the 50k mark, feeling a little like toast and not even being half way done. I finally reached it at 3:42, but my 5k split was 23:11. Well, maybe the next one will be faster! I came back to station one for the end of loop 1, happy to see Lion who handed my bottle and told me Kami looked good, and I was in the top 10. That surprised me, and really made me focus on keeping good form. Between station one and two felt a bit like a vacuum to me – it was flat but I felt so slow here. My 5k split indicated it was true – 23:33. I finally made it to station 2 again, Brian running beside me with a bottle which I took, Connie's support Jim offering water on my head, and I said 'down my back please!' as I didn't want it getting my SCaps! tabs wet. Mike yelled that I was in 8th place and Kami was in 6th. I was excited about that and hung in there for place. I had been taking SCaps! whenever I started to feel weak, crummy, crampy, or exasperated, but was always concerned it was too much. However, each time I took one, in a few minutes I would feel much better.

Better or not, slower was the reality. My next 5k was 24:30. But I now only had 60k to go! I cruised into aid 3 and Susan had found my bottles. I declined the gel flask of gel, since I had been eating less and less of it as it sounded nastier and nastier. I trudged on, and being in the second loop I was now passing men who had gone out too hard, or who were on their first loop. At least it gave me someone to say 'good job' to. I reached aid 1, took a bottle from Lion, drank some water, and he said Kami was now in 5th. I was so glad she was continuing to have a good day! I hit the vacuum section again, and my 5k split was 24:45. Ugh. I had 35k to go, and I hoped the slowdown was over. I got to aid 2 again, Brian handed me a bottle plus a gel this time, Lin with water, Jim gave me some coke, and Mike called out my placing (8th). I turned the corner, finally starting lap 3, and immediately got a severe side ache. I had been so thirsty I had downed a lot of water – maybe too much. I held my side while 'running', considering SCaps! – hadn't I just had one? I struggled along for awhile, and finally decided I may as well try it, and in moments, the side ache was gone. My split was 24:56, a total of 5:20 for 70k. I started doing math - “if I run 70 minutes for each of the next 15k that would still be 7:30” but reasoned that it wasn't likely I would speed up. I guessed that 7:45 was still in the realm of possibilities. As I was contemplating, an Italiano pulled beside me on his mondo motorcycle (did I mention that this was a 'closed course'?), and motioned for me to get on. I replied that I would like to, but better not.

I made it through aid 3 again, Colin ran with me a bit as I passed a woman from the Czech Republic and asked 'Hey, am I passing her?' and he confirmed. I was pleased when he said I was still looking stronger than most folks coming though, so thought my place might stay secure if I keep it together. I was followed now by a tall Danish man wearing blue knee socks. We ran quietly together until I realized he was going to try and stay with me, so I told him I liked his socks. He hoped they worked, and I wished the same for mine. He said 'only 1.5 loops to go before we head to the finish!' I liked his attitude, and very soon we were joined by a Spanish runner. We all ran silently, I being careful to be a little ahead or well off to the side so as not to gain a draft. Just before hitting aid 1, I surprisingly came up behind Adam. “Hey Adam! Is your knee bothering you?” He was just having a bad day and said he couldn't form a clear thought. He also said he needed to finish the race because Howard had dropped with an injury. I wished him well, and was soon into aid 1 for the 4th time.

Meanwhile, the course management had some activity of its own – there was a large truck with boxes and boxes of candles – they were about 8 inches in diameter and the shape of a pie. A young woman was placing them on the side of the road. This is how they were going to light the course after dark. I imagined it would be very beautiful. Sundown occurs at around 5:30, so the majority of the runners would be running in the dark.

I had been using more SCaps! than I anticipated, and told Lion as I came through I would need some for the last stretch. He said “I have it right now” and reached into his pocket, took my baggy, filled it for me and put it back. He said “You're in 6th place now, and Kami's in 3rd! You put a few seconds on the 5th place woman.” I was now starting the 4th time around, and the Dane and Spaniard were still with me. We climbed the short hill together, and down the other side in silence. I hit the next 5k (80k) in 25:12. About 500 meters from aid 3, we heard motorcycle sirens, and soon we were being over taken by the lead runner with his escorts. He was flying, and a few minutes later, a Polish man in hot pursuit. “Brava! Brava!” we shouted to them as they went by. I wondered if Michael would pass us before we made the turn away from their finishing stretch. We arrived at aid 2 for the fourth time, and Lin yelled for me. I smiled and she said “wow, still smiling!” and I replied it was the one that I could still manage to do. Brian handed me a bottle for the last time, as I headed out one more time, he would now make his way up to the finish. Mike yelled at me again that I was in 6th, Kami in 3rd, and that I looked strong. And with one lap to go, I felt like I could start bolting for the barn, even though I had 10 miles to go.

I started running what felt like a hard effort. I could taste the finish. Then I had to slow down from fatigue. Ebb and flow. My next 5k was only slightly faster, 24:42. My next sad surprise came in the form of one hurtin' Gregg Crowther. I barely realized it was him until I passed. The only word I could muster was 'buggar!' and wished him well. I made my way into aid 3, Susan handing me a bottle for the last time. I kept taking SCaps! when I felt bad, and was able to drink all of my bottle if I sipped. I was now joined by a Norwegian runner, and we silently fell into sink. Dusk was falling, and the candles were being lit. Then we saw the 90k mark in 24:47, and my partner said 'that is a very important mark' and from now on each k would be flagged. My stomach was starting to go on me, and I finally had to give in and visit the bushes. I was pleased that I had made it to 90k without real GI distress until now.

My total time at this point was 7:00. I had 10k to go and I thought I was flying. Surely I could run a 10k in 45 minutes! I charged into aid 1, and Lion commented that he couldn't keep up with me now. He gave me some gatorade, as I was out of bottles, said Kami was in 2nd and I whooped out loud. That was so awesome! He said I had a solid 6th, and that ever second counted. The way this event is scored is by adding the times of the top three runners for each team. I hit the 95k mark with a blazing 25:52. Oops, there went my 45 minutes 10k. Oh well, I kept on pushing, and the Norwegian caught back up to me. We both ran hard to the aid 2, where it was now quite dark. The candles did a nice job of looking decorative, but did nothing to light the way. Lin could barely see me until the last minute, then ran beside me, excitedly saying that every second counts, and keep it up. I was determined to make it up to the finish with every ounce I had. I knew that Devon was in at least 12th place and running strong, so we had a good chance of earning a medal.

Kami's Spectacular Finish!

As I left aid 2 and headed to town, I was given a small head lamp to light the ground. It helped me avoid any potholes, and soon we were under city lamps. The Norwegian and I both surged and died repeatedly, and then we came to 1 km to go. It was all uphill, and very steep in places. I told him he should catch the man ahead of us, and he said, ugh – everytime he tries to run faster he cramps, but as we made the last turn, he surged ahead. I could see the finish, the lights of the old town lighting the sky. I pumped my arms and pushed way up the last bit, and crossed the finish line in 7:52.

Brian was there to help me get a space blanket, and we stood around for a bit chatting to a few folks, hoping that Devin would arrive soon. She delivered in 9 minutes, and in 10 place! Kami was being drug tested, so we wouldn't see her for awhile. I got a massage, and waited for Connie, who was our 4th finisher in 8:40. Carolyn unfortunately had dropped due to an injury.

Connie and Carolyn

We all assembled in a nearby pub, waiting for Kami, waiting for results, and sharing stories. Wardian had placed 9th, and was pretty pleased with the day. Adam and Gregg both finished with great effort having suffered early on.

At 9:00 p.m. we gathered in the piazza for the awards. We were all so proud of Kami on the podium. She was in shock that she had placed so high.

Kami on the Podium

After the individual awards, came the team awards, and our team had indeed received the silver medal. It was a happy group assembled on the podium with Russia in first and Japan in 3rd.

Thus ended a day of new experiences, ones that would gladly try to repeat and improve upon. It will take some training and practice to have a better middle of the race, and I am up for trying. Belgium, June 19th, 2009 – see you there!

Kami and Lin, just before the parade

Polizia!

Me and Lion, post race

Day before the race

Typical Tarquinian Avenue

Kitty heaven

Brian in Tarquinian Plaza

More days in Italy

2008-11-10T07:18:00.000-08:00

Day 3 - Obama Wins! We headed for breakfast, and spoke to Tatiana, Fabio, and Angelo what little we could about the election. I said “Obama!”, and Angelo said “Are you happee? You like Obaaaama?” “Si si!”. They all replied that they did too, and Tatiana added that she stayed up all night watching the results come in. I went for a run, my legs felt good and the temperature was mild.

Shortly after, the US team began to drift in. Two of the runners (Howard Nippert, Adam Lint) and two from the management team (Lin Gentling and Eric). Then Kami and her parents, plus other support folks for some of the runners. Finally the place was coming to life, and the stories were getting richer. Brian and I chilled out the rest of the time, and repeated our stay at home dinner from the day before. At 9:30 we were lying in bed reading when we heard some steps outside going past our room, across the crunching gravel. I didn't think much of it, until I heard it come back the other direction. And then back again. Finally, there was a knock on the door. “Hello?” I said. “Lin?” came from outside. “No, is that Devon?” “Yes!”. I got up and opened the door and was greeted by a very distressed Devon Crosby-Helms. She had arrived by shuttle to our agritourismo and let off by the side of the road. The compound was completely dark, the employees having gone home and the office was closed. She had no idea where to go and was ready to curl up with the cats outside for the night when she spotted my running shoes by the door. Her accommodation was actually down the road with many of the other athletes, so I grabbed a headlamp and walked her down, grabbed Lin to drive me back and pick up Devon's luggage.

I got to sleep a little later, and for the 2nd night in a row slept until 2 a.m. then tossed and turned for 3 hours, fell back asleep and woke up groggy at 8.

Day 4. Team meetings

The rest of the team arrived – Michael Wardian, Caroline Smith, Connie Gardner, Greg Crowther, Adam Lint, Team Doctor Lion and his wife Susan, manager Mike Spinnler and two more support folks - Paris and Colin. The men were down to four due to injuries, and the women, 5, due to illness. Lin, Mike, Brian, and I drove the course, helping Lin figure it out. It turns out the driving around Italy is not too straight forward, and perhaps even less so the more rural one is. The country side was beautiful with many very old stone homes and other structures.

The start was in the nearby town of Tuscania, and the route took side roads back to Tarquinia. The first 25k were pastoral and rolling, but nothing too tough, and ended with a very long downhill to the outskirts of Tarquinia, where a mostly flat loop of 14+ K would be run 4 times before branching off and running up to the top of Tarquinia to finish in the old town.

That evening we had a team meeting and photo shoot with our team uniforms, discussed all of the necessary issues surrounding the race – rules, aid, transportation, and advice on how to approach the race. After the team meeting there was a meeting for the crews. Most runners came with an entourage of some sort – siblings, parents, spouses, friends. Only Greg and Devon were without crew, but the entire group was a team. Each runner had a primary support (mine was Brian) and secondary support (other folks' primary support) so each time we came through a 'refreshment zone' we would be spotted by someone on the support team and they would run with us through the station and hand us what we had prepared or anything else we might want. Our evening ended with a group dinner at the agritourismo. Our food was served with enthusiasm by Fabio and Angelo, and it was quite good – the menu was translated from Italian and read 'Laughing at the Asparagus' (turned out to be risotto with asparagus), 'Tomato to the Linguine' (gnocchi with tomato sauce), 'Piglet to the oven' (roasted pork that may have been a suckling pig, but they didn't bring it out with an apple in it's mouth, thankfully), 'Arista Pork' (Pork roast slices), and a mixed vegetable salad. It was a very fine meal.

Day 5 – One day to race day.

Lin spent several hours in Tarquinia at meetings – one for the IAAF congress (I believe) and then at 2:30 a technical meeting, in which she learned about the course set up. The first 25k would only be accessible by race committee. Our aid would be transported out for us and set up every 5k on tables labeled according to country. There were up to 32 countries competing, and our station would be last by alphabet.

Meanwhile, I finally made it to an internet 'point' and was able to do some emailing and the posting of the beginning of this blog. I was relieved that there was no bad news.

Back at the farm, we rested up and started to get my bottles ready. I had bought and cooked rice and eggs for lunch, and then at 3:45, Kami came for Brian and I to go back to town to do some more interneting. Then, at 5:00 we assembled with all the teams for a parade up the main street through town. We were the last visiting country to line up, followed by Italy. The crowd was very excited and as handed out small USA flags, the fans yelled “Obaaaama! Obaaaaama!”.

At the end of the parade route we created a large semi-circle facing the emcee, and I got teary looking at all the flags waving together – so many different cultures brought together by a bunch of crazy athletes with a passion for running.

There were speeches made and music played by a marching band, and as the evening wore on (and on and on), we were given the go ahead to leave and get off of our feet. Kami and I, her parents and Brian escaped back home for an evening of completing getting ready and eating more rice. Lion brought me my bib numbers (front with a chip embedded and a back number) at about 9:00 pm and final instructions on labeling my bottles. He also asked if he could have any back up supplies for me on the course, and I gave him some extra SCaps! just in case.

In bed by 10, I slept decently enough – no less than any other night before a race.

Adventures in Italy

2008-11-07T01:47:00.000-08:00

Prelude - We have been without internet service our entire time at the agritourismo. I am at an internet cafe near the finish line area of the race. Everything is going well, but we haven't done much touring. I'll post more when able, but for now, you can read a bit.

The adventure begins.

Our first day in Italy was the end of a very long flight. With little sleep in the past 28 hours Brian and I still managed to function well enough to find the train into Rome, and onto Tarquinia. Arriving at the station at 5:30, we looked for a taxi to take us to our final destination – the agritourismo (farm lodging) the entire USA Team would be housed in. The parking lot was devoid of anything resembling a taxi or a taxi stand – just cars and very few people milling about. Knowing the agritourismo was 4.5 km from town, and not knowing the directions, I was certain we weren't going to try to haul our luggage on foot. I ventured inside the station to ask the woman working in the convenience shop if she spoke English – no – only a little – so I said 'taxi?' and she said signaled for me to wait. Thinking she might call for one or have a good answer, I waited while she waited on a couple of customers, then gestured for me to follow her to the bulletin board, where she pointed to an advertisement for a taxi company, complete with phone number. So now it appeared I would need to converse on the payphone. I inserted my visa card and dialed the number. 'Pronto', I heard. Not knowing that was 'hello' I thought the phone needed money. I was trying to figure this out while saying 'taxi?' on the phone, and to the dismay of both parties, we did not speak the same language. After much Italian on his end, and English on mine, a helpful bystander stepped in. He tried my card in the phone, then we gestured to the sign on the wall that we wanted a taxi. He called on his cell phone, but no answer. He also spoke no English. Soon a thin woman with a very bad cough chimed in and the enthusiastic conversation grew more animated. She knew a little English, and understood we were seeking transportation to our agritourismo. We scoured more numbers, and our young man phoned the agritourismo, but there was no answer. Another young man in the station joined the group and now we were all gesturing and shouting and pointing. One called the LOC contact for transportation and finally I had someone to speak with. She new some English and after she understood who I was and what I wanted, she said she could not help and that I needed to find a taxi – at the same time the two young men were ready to call the taxi again. Young man number one called and got someone and spent the next 5 minutes convincing the driver that there were 2 Americanos at the train station needing a ride. Gratefully, we waited for 10 minutes for the driver, loaded our bags, and in 10 minutes more, we arrived.

We were greeted by Fabio and Tatiana, employees of the agritourismo. Tatiana spoke some English, but was on her way home. Fabio spoke no English, but took us to our room. We inquired about dinner possibilities, and not understanding, he left and returned shortly with Christine – a German woman who spoke English. Through her we learned that the restaurant is only open Friday through Sunday, except for breakfast. We said we had snacks, so would be okay until tomorrow, but they were so concerned that they offered to bring us something from the kitchen ('a bottle of wine? Some bread and cheese?'). We were very grateful, and when they returned with a tray of meats, cheeses, half a loaf of bread, pickles, eggplant and a bottle of house red wine, we were extremely pleased.

Day 2 – Up by 7:30, we headed for breakfast at 8:30. Tatiana was back, and seated us, then brought us the typical Italian coffee – single shots of espresso. Croissants and sweetbread, yogurt, juice, biscotti were available. It was all good, and as we left, I asked Tatiana about renting a bicyclette.

She was not sure, but would find out for me. After a couple of hours of relaxing, I found Christine and asked her about places to go running. She suggested running on the road, as the farm roads were too muddy (it had been raining). Then I asked her if she thought we would be able to get to town for some supplies. She took me to the office to talk to one of the owners, and through he, Christine, and Tatiana, it was decided that Tatiana would take me to the store. I grabbed some euros, and soon we were speeding into town.

Tatiana, Angelo, Fabio

At the store, I just told Tatiana what I was looking for and she took me around. Groceries seemed inexpensive relative to the States. Pasta, pesto, eggs, salad, fruit, bread, cheese, and potato chips (made with olive oil, of course). Then a quick trip back. I learned as much about Tatiana as our limited language skills allowed. She lives in Tarquinia with her family, went to school in Bologna to study philosophy. She likes it here – not to busy, but close enough to Roma if she wants to go to the big city. The schools don't usually teach English, so most residents only speak Italian. I used what little Italian I could to at least show I cared enough to try.

Brian and I went for a run down the road, trying to get out to the ocean, but were never successful. Cars went zooming by at breakneck speed, but always giving us plenty of room. The landscape was mostly agricultural, and the climate very temperate. We avoided rain during the run, but the wind picked up rather strongly, suggesting of more rain. After lunch, we crashed for a long nap, during which there was some heavy downpours and thunder.

Dinner was pasta and pesto, while watching the Italian news to follow the election that hadn't really started yet. We would have to wait until the morning to get the results.

Twin Cities Marathon

2008-10-08T20:27:00.000-07:00

As a five time competitor in the Twin Cities Marathon, my face has become familiar to the local area committee. As such, my first obligation was to sit on the panel for the press conference. I have enjoyed being in the audience for these in the past as I get insight into some of my competitors as well as the men's field. I was honored to be asked, but a little nervous when the time arrived. I was sitting in a row with Dan Browne, Fernando Cabada, Chris Lundstrom, and Matt Gabrielson to my right, Susan Loken and Tracy Lokken (USATF defending Masters Champions) to my left. The 4 men in the open race were serious, ambitious and ready to make their statements on race day. They each had personal motivation and drive that added excitement for the press - it was looking to be a very exciting race for the men's title. This year's race was the first chance for the men to run a qualifying time for the Olympic Trials for 2012, so there were many other hopefuls on the start list.

A couple of questions came my way, and I answered well enough. The main reason for my presence was the fact that I was running in the World's 100k in Italy in only 5 weeks after Twin Cities, and inquiring minds wanted to know how I trained for both events. My reply of '60 miles every weekend, back to the track on Wednesdays and Fridays' made the moderator tired. Much to my disappointment I was not asked 'what will you do with the money you win' (Take my Sunsweet team to dinner) nor did I have the courage to change any questions to the questions I wanted to answer.

It was a dark, stormy morning, when we arrived at the Church that was rented for the elite athletes. There were plenty of runners to chat with about race plans and paces. I was especially excited to be running with Johanna Olson and Theresa Sorocco this year. This was Theresa's first trip as an elite athlete and I was sure she would run a PR. Johanna was fit and had a solid race plan. My main competitors for the Master's Championship were Susan Loken, Jody Hawkins, Susan Empey, Doreen McCoubrie. Susan Empey had the same time goal of 2:45 as I, and suggested we run together.

Susan Loken, Johanna, Theresa and I went outside the church for our first warm up. It was starting to get light, the rain had stopped, and the temperature was cool. After about 10 minutes, we returned for yet another bathroom stop, do some stretching, change into racing shoes, and bring our drop bags to the truck. On our way out of the church, Theresa stopped to reacquaint herself with Dan Browne. We had thought it was a good omen that he, Theresa, Chad Johnson and I were all racing here for the first time since 2002, when Dan won, Theresa PR'd and I had my fastest time her (2:46). Dan wished us luck.

After the wheelchair racers started, we were free to warm up in the street in front of the start. I ran several strides and felt good enough. I wore a cap, gloves, arm warmers, short sleeve shirt, and knee socks. If I got too hot, I could toss the warm things. For now, the temperature was friendly enough (50), and it was not raining. There was some wind, but the course changes directions often so it probably wouldn't be too much of a problem.

Lining up behind the start, I forgot to look for Susan Empey. I was about 3 deep in the lineup, and when the gun went off I was engulfed and passed by many more rows. I focused on not getting too excited and found myself skipping over and around puddles, until I realized what I was doing and how silly that was. There were LOTS of women in front of me, and I just let them go. Each city block we passed brought in a very strong cross wind, and otherwise we had a head wind. I tried to stay behind or beside runners. Not seeing the first mile mark yet, I glanced at my watch. 6:12. Hmm. Either I was going really slow or really fast. I never did see the mark. I ran up beside Marie Sample and Sheena Dauer and asked if they got their mile split. They also missed the mark. I ran beside them until we came to the first hill. Up we went, into the wind, and I fell off their pace quickly, not wanting to work too hard so soon. Finally I reached the 2 mile mark, 13:00 minutes. Argh. Not quite as fast as I wanted, so I picked it up a bit. Getting into a good rhythm I heard my name from the side, and saw Robyn and Aaron, friends who just moved from Corvallis, and as always, it lifted my spirits.

I pushed to mile three, and was pleased with my 6:08 split. I was also keeping track of my HR, and was holding steady in the 165 range. By now, the rain had returned, and it was somewhat serious. My 5k split was just under 20, so I knew I was close to on pace. I was using the terrain to my advantage (i.e. uncontrolled downhill running whenever possible). Miles 4, 5, and 6 are relatively flat, and I ran 6:35, 6:16, 6:17, and passed through the 10k in 39:30ish. The past two years, I have started to fall a bit flat here, so I was hyper alert, half expecting to fall apart, but I felt very strong. I had been closing the gap on another female master (as is indicated by the back tags with our age group on them) and encouraged her as I went by.

The rain was getting more serious and the spectator crowd was a little thinner than usual. I was usually able to run with somebody, but with the serious weather, niceties were not exchanged. I looked out at Lake Harriett and was surprised to see choppy water. I had missed my fluids at mile 5 but with all the rain didn't worry about it. At mile 7 I grabbed a bottle of water and tried to swig a bit. My heart rate was now in the 170 range, and I still felt in control. Miles 7, 8, 9, and 10 were cold, wet, windy blurs, but I was running 6:13, 6:13, 6:19, 6:19, which put me at 1:03 for 10 miles. I was so pleased that I still felt strong, albeit a bit numb.

Looking ahead, I noticed that Susan Loken was in sight. Either I was having a stellar day, or she was having a bad day. I guessed the latter, based on my time so far. She hails from Arizona and was a bit light on the clothing, so the weather undoubtedly did not favor her. I grabbed a bottle from the aid station and ran up beside her. Offering her a drink, she said "no thanks - just had some". "Are you okay?" She was having intestinal problems, wished me luck, and on I forged. Mile 11 split was 6:14. The rain was still serious and I was soggy. I was glad for the lycra short as they don't hold water, and the mesh in my shoes served me well too.

We now turned into the wind for bit, and I was thinking "I really want to get done and get out of this misery" and also shouting in my mind "I'm trying to hurry Bob!" (referring to my coach who would be at the finish line). Miles 12 and 13 were only a little slower (6:25, 6:21) and I went through the half in 1:23. Although 2:45 didn't seem too likely at this point, I still felt strong. Mile 14 had a roller (6:34) and I recovered for a 6:25 15th mile. My HR was below 170, so I knew I wasn't out of control. About this time, I heard a voice behind me say "Meghan, you run so smoothly!" It was Susan Empey. I expected her to run beside me, but I sensed her pull off to the side and stop briefly. I wondered if she was tight or cramping, and when she would be back with me.

Miles 16-19 are possibly my favorite stretch. It is uninterupted by cross streets and winds along side the Missippippi River. One man I was running either behind, with, or ahead of (we traded positions numerous times) was being cheered by some girls on bikes. I finally caught and passed what I was pretty certain the last master female that was ahead of me. I never expected to be in first, and hoped I could make it last. Mile 16 split was 6:32, and somewhere before mile 17, my left hamstring gave me some small, but sharp cramping sensations. I could have panicked, but kept my wits about me, backed off the pace a bit, focused on form, and kept it at bay. Mile 17 was 6:30, so I felt I would survive alright. Of course, my bowels were screaming at me but I can live with that. Before 18, I tried to lengthen my stride again, and the same cramping would start, so I pulled back for a 6:40, and did the same for mile 19. My HR had come down a bit (166) with the slight slowdown, but I was still in the game.

Crossing the Mississippi River feels like the race is over - I finally made to mile 20! This is where the race gets fairly tough. I was now 2:08 into the race (only 3 minutes slower than goal). Things got a little ugly here, and just as I hit 21(6:46) and grabbed my special fluids bottle, Susan Empey came up beside me. Again, she complemented me on form, and I offered her some electrolytes. "My hands are so numb I can't work them!" was her reply, and she basically left me like I was standing still. It was the first serious uphill and I was tired, but the rain had stopped. "I have other fish to fry" I reminded myself, thinking about the World Cup 100k in just 5 weeks. I started looking for Theresa's brother Tom who would be along this section somewhere, just hoping for a familiar face to distract me from my misery. I noticed my hamstring wasn't bothering me so I opened up my stride, only to have it come right back. Miles 22 (7:16) and 23 (7:18) were long, gradual climbs and a bit agonizing. I finally heard and saw Tom yelling "Go Meghan, Go Meghan". Apparently I looked tired. Go figure.

The aid station at mile 23 had my last special fluids bottle, which I was planning on skipping, but the volunteers were SO EXCITED to see me and started shouting my number out and pointing to my bottle that I felt compelled to pick it up. They cheered wildly at my success. I managed a couple of drinks before tossing it. The course leveled out a bit and I ran 6:50 for mile 24. I think mile 25 has to be the longest mile in any marathon. I was struggling along, HR had dropped to mid 150's and Sheena Dauer blew my me. She was incredible, and I think it was her first marathon so she had held back early on. Mile 25 finally came to me in 6:59, and now I could see the capital building. I pushed and grunted and my hamstring no longer cared. I hit the last screaming downhill at mile 26 (6:32) and finished the last .2 in 91s, for an overall time of 2:51.

Bob was at the finish line and escorted me into the tent. I was anxious to hear how my friends had done, and was stunned to see both Theresa and Susan Loken in the tent, having dropped at the half. Theresa had been shaking uncontrollably from the cold for 4 miles, even after trying to run in a garbage bag. Her decision had been tough on her, but very intelligent. Susan was cheerful, just hadn't been her day. Johanna had not felt good most of the day and came in at 2:50.

I found out soon that Susan Empey had indeed been the USATF Master Champ, and I was second. Overall, 2 Russian Master's came in before me. If you are so inclined you can see a short video from the local news station: http://www.kare11.com/video/player.aspx?sid=526246&aid=84808 but it will only be there for a week. For full race results go to http://www.mtcmarathon.org/.

Where's Waldo, Take Four

2008-08-20T21:13:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning I was up at 3:00, feeling rested and excited for my 4th start of Where's Waldo 100k. Oatmeal, coffee, sports drink - the normal routine - drinks and food for Brian to bring to me at aid stations all in appropriate bags - everything was ready for a great day. We arrived to the start by 4:30, milled about with the other runners, and finally at 5:00 we were off into the darkness.

It was a warm morning, but I kept long sleeves on in case the peaks were chilly. I fell into a good rhythm hiking up the steep climb with Krissy and Prudence. We chatted some and choked on the dust from all the runners. Near the top, I started jogging a bit and pulled off by myself. Finally I reached the first trail and caught my breath. I was a bit unsteady running in the dark, but having run this section in the daylight, I had some sense of where I was going. It was getting light and I found myself running behind Curt, who made way for me to pass. We chatted a bit, both still feeling excited and fresh. I felt like I was flying and was sure my first aid station split would be faster than last year. I had split goals that would surpass my course record for last year and was optimistic that I would hit them.

Dropping into Gold Lake campground, I glanced at my watch - 6:07 - hmmm - I was still a ways from the aid station, and only 3 minutes from last year's split. I kept up the pace, and was greeted by my crew extraordinaire (Brian) who gave me a fresh bottle and I gave him my empty. When I passed through the aid station, I was at 6:10 - exactly the same as last year, but that was okay, I justified that the traffic slowed me down a bit at times. I needed nothing so I flew on through, made my way to the road crossing where I was cheered by a handful of other support folks, and I made my way to the Fuji Mountain trail head and began the first serious ascent.

Surprisingly, I found myself running many more sections than I did 2 weeks ago, and my effort felt controlled. There were three of us in a train, all the way to the Fuji aid station. I checked my watch and was surprised that I was 2 minutes slower than last year. I gave my bottle to Jeff and asked him to fill it for me while I summited. He willinging obliged and I headed off. A few yards into the climb I realized I should have had another drink before this dogleg. I passed a few early starters, and soon saw Hal and Nate tearing it up on the way back down. I yelled 'It's the Hal and Nate show!' as they flew by. Winding my way on up, Curt caught me and I let him by. Jeff Browning was on his way down, and after he passed I heard a female voice cheering for him. That put a little urgency in my step. I thought if I could summit first, I had a good chance of dropping her on the downhill, as it is one of my strengths.

Arriving at the top I was greeted by Craig and company. When asked how I was feeling, I replied 'good, but she's right behind me!' and I quickly turned around to go down. In moments, I met Prudence on her way up, and shortly after, Krissy. I skittered over the rocks and roots, and when the trail became smooth, I sailed as quickly as I could back to the aid station. Jeff had my bottle, I ate a gel and drank water and downed an S!Cap. I looked at my watch and saw I was now 4 minutes off pace.

I continued to fly on the downs and tried to stay strong on the ups. My knees were alarmingly sore after some of the extended downhills. I stayed focused and sure that I could hold my lead, and that after every down I would be ready for the next climb. When I got to Mt. Ray aid station, I was determined to eat something and get rid of the long sleeves. Brian was there ready with whatever I needed, and Gaby came to help out as well. I told them I wasn't feeling great and asked for some chocolate milk. Standing there, I was surprised to see Prudence show up, right on my heels. I finished up and followed her out, with Curt right behind again. We clipped along on the connector trail to the Gold Lake trail, and chatting the whole way. As we turned onto the Gold Lake trail and started to climb ever so slightly, I felt the fatigue in my legs and told Prudence that she would have to go on without me. She politely assured me I would be right with her as she quite quickly disappeared ahead of me. Curt was no longer close behind, so I just trudged on my way, hoping for a recovery of some kind.

I arrived at the site of last years fiasco of course vandalism and was pleased to see Kate and Julie holding down the fort. Kate told me that Prudence was only 1.5 minutes ahead. I think she was being polite, but was encouraged none-the-less. As I turned up the PCT I again felt the fatigue throughout my body. Forever optimistic I pushed on, hoping for a change of some kind. The next bit of bad news was in the form of one Hal Koerner, sadly walking towards the Twins aid station. I asked what was up and he said his plantar was acting up and was going to drop. I offered my condolences and remembered to be grateful for being healthy even if I felt a bit less than a million bucks.

I finally arrived to the belly dancing party animals at the Twins. They were awesome - Melissa handled my bottle, Keah tried to help me trouble shoot, I ate a little melon and some coke. I hadn't been eating too much, maybe because of the heat, but probably because I was in too much of a hurry. Craig was there (how did he get there so fast?) encouraging me, and soon Krissy arrived, looking strong and fresh. When I was finally ready, she asked me to run with her, and I lasted about 10 paces on the slight uphill out. Like Prudence, she quickly drifted out of sight while I continued to slog on. I didn't feel well, and took another S!Cap, kept sipping my drink, and finally made it to the rolling section. Unfortunately, the downhill did not offer much relief. I didn't feel resilient and my stomach was a bit rough. I struggled like this all the way until I caught up with Ron, and I followed him into the Charleton aid station.

Another awesome stop, Brian was ready with beans, chocolate milk, and bottles with ice. Everytime I looked up I saw a friend cheering me on. Zander and Avery sprayed me with water, and Zander said "Don't drop out!" and I promised "I won't drop out, but I may drop dead!" Gaby said there was no magic pill when I asked her for one, saying that there is no tomorrow, run for today! Ugh. Finally somewhat fueled and spirits lifted, I jogged out. I could run on the flat, and hiked the short climb to 4290, and found that I really wanted to walk more and more. I also wanted to finish by 9:00 so made myself run. I soon encountered Chris who was having a pretty good day. I invited him to stay with me, and he politely declined.

The ice water in one bottle was handy to keep my neck cool. I sipped and dipped continuously, and once out in the hot sun slowed a bit, and even took a dirt nap rather unexpectedly. It was a gentle fall into about 1 inch of dust, no damage done except that my shirt now looked about like I felt - a little worse for wear. I had more salt, more gel, and found myself walking more of this section than I hoped. Finally I arrived at the aid station, and had superb help. Brian had biked out the bumpy road to bring me more ice water and sports drink. I was surrounded by personnel spraying, sponging, wiping my face, and even trying to clean my shirt when I said I just wanted to look a little better. I announced I no longer cared about my time, so they could take as much time on me as they wanted. I ate one piece of melon, and just as I was leaving, Kelly arrived.

The next section has been the toughest for me and many others in the past. Slow steady grind and the longest section before coming back to the belly dancing babes. I kept drinking, gelling, salting, ebbing very long ebbs and experiencing only short flows. I passed early starters, but not moving much faster than they. My stomach finally rebelled and sent me into the bushes, barely in time. I wasn't feeling better, but kept on. With time on my hands I reflected and analyzed what had gone wrong. Two weeks ago I had trained the entire course in two days, which is something I like to do twice before the race. After that weekend I felt like I needed 2 more weeks and another weekend on the course to be really ready. I was not as fit as last year for this course. I undoubtedly used it up in the climb to Fuji. If I wasn't having fun, what was the point? I relaxed and stayed as comfortable as I could, and enjoyed the beauty of the course, the event, the volunteers, and the spirit of ultra running. I didn't feel any better physically, but mentally I was in a better place.

Eventually I made it to the saddle of the Twins and began the descent into the aid station. I hoped my legs would feel better, but even the downhill was a bit treacherous. The aid station belly dancers were again super at taking care of me. Keah updated me on where Krissy and Prudence were, and I knew the only way I would catch them would be if they felt worse than I did, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Ice in my shirt and shorts, and trying to find something to eat. Coke, watermelon, Clif shot. I was trying to cut back on the caffeine, but all of my gels and the Clif shots had some. I wondered if it was part of the problem with my stomach. I finally left, again just as Kelly arrived. Getting out into the sun was alarming - it was baking. I heard Kelly behind me, and eventually he decided to go ahead. Another dive into the bushes just in time. The downhill finished, and the PCT was as flat as I felt. I made myself run until I finally got to the climb that would bring me to Maiden Peak aid station. I spotted Kelly again, and then the volunteers were waiting to run my bottles ahead. They asked what they could for me, and I said that Brian would be there with fresh bottles, but they were more than welcome to carry mine the rest of the way. Not surprising, someone grabbed them and ran. I walked in, Brian had chocolate milk that I actually got down, I took another Clif shot, watermelon, coke with ice. I asked Kelly if he wanted to climb Maiden together, and he agreed - until he looked up and saw William arriving. "I knew that he would catch me!" I told him to go ahead then, and try to stay ahead. Kelly left, and I was ready to leave moments later. I tried to get William to come then, but he needed a few more minutes.

The final climb - last year in 56 minutes, this year I thought it would be well over an hour. The flats were difficult to jog, the climbs hard to hike. William was soon behind me. We chatted a bit, and he passed me to catch Kelly. Shortly after, I caught Kelly and we continued the long trudge. Instead of looking up the endless climb, I stared at his blue gators, trance like, as if it would never end. We finally got up to Steve who greeted us like we were champions, and sent us up one more grind to the very top of Maiden to the hugs of Jeff. Finally, lots of down hill. My legs were very sore and my form was jerky. I tried to smooth out and glide into the Maiden Lake aid station.

Bev and Barb were extremely attentive and helpful and got me going for the last haul. As I was hiking out, a woman was hiking in and mentioned that the view at Maiden Lake was really beautiful. I wasn't sure what she meant, until I got to the lake and heard the laughter of two mermaids in the lake, dressed only as mermaids dress. I laughed and hooted, and told them not to tempt me. Mood lifted, I smiled through the next few ups and downs. More salt had helped me feel better, and I picked it up, only to send me into the bushes again. As I was coming out I was caught by Lee, and we ran together all the way to the PCT, talking to distract ourselves from the misery of our bodies. I would stretch the lead out at times, and then he would catch up. At the middle Rosary, he said - "Hey Meghan, want to get in the lake?" I had been thinking about it since the last lake, so I said "Yeah, why not!" and in I ran. It felt sooooo good. Then out and on my again. I figured 20 minutes would do it. Lee and I ran harder until I nearly had to stop in my tracks, for lack of something. I said "you go ahead, I need to gel". I took one more Powergel and walked for a couple of minutes before I could get it all together again.

Ten minutes more of eyes straining for the sign board indicating the end was near. I heard Alan hooting when he saw me. "Yay! I'm finally here! It has been a rough day." I turned the corner for the straight away to the finish, and focused on keeping my form together for the finish. When I finally crossed, I had been out for 12:03, a good hour slower than last year. Craig offered my the hat of my choice, and I finally got to rest. Third place woman, and first Master.

If you read this far then you also get to know that I was accepted onto the USA Team that is going to Italy to run in the World 100k Cup in November! That craziness in Coburg paid off!

Run In The Country X 4.77

2008-07-15T10:29:00.000-07:00

I reached a new level of insanity last Sunday, starting at 3:30 a.m. It was the morning that I attempted to run a road 100k in 8:40 or faster, in order to qualify for the USA Team to go to the World's 100k Championship in Italy this November.

Brian and I arrived in Coburg at 5:30 a.m. for the 'Run in the Country' half-marathon, which I was to run 4.77 times. Coach Bob Latham was already there preparing to referee the event and measure the last section of the course. We discussed logistics and aid stations. I was able to pick aid up from aid stations, and provide my own aid for these stations, but no one was to hand aid to me otherwise. I was to run each half in opposite directions, and could aid myself at the start/finish area each time as well. Tom Riley showed up to run 100k as well, and I appreciated his support wholly. Bob had informed the race announcer what I was up to, and thus when we were ready to start at 6:00 with the half-marathon walkers, a big announcement was made about my attempt and the walkers and onlookers responded enthusiastically.

I wasn't very nervous, given it wasn't really a race, and I knew it wouldn't painful in the way a marathon is. I was however, anxious to learn what the pain of running this same loop 4+ times, without a 'destination' would look like. I reminded myself that I can run 100k in the mountains, and I can run 100 miles - but what would it be like to run continuously for 8+ hours with no hiking and no balls-out downhill running?

The starter sent us off, and Tom and I took to running. We stayed together through the first mile, then Tom bid adieu to run his own pace. By the time I got to mile 2 I was on 7:00 minute pace, so I eased up a bit, not wanting to go faster than 7:30. I knew it was going to be hot, so I wanted as many miles as possible in the cooler weather, and the pace I settled into felt very comfortable. By mile 8, I was still under 7:30 pace. Brian and Bob followed me on their bikes. When I needed aid, Brian set my next bottle on the aid station table ahead for me to pick up. At mile 9, we turned back towards town to finish the first loop, and had a surprising headwind from the south. It was still cool, and a south wind is generally hospitable, so my pace didn't slow. I finished lap one in 1:36 and change, well ahead of the 1:40 I had planned on. I felt relaxed, picked up another bottle, and headed back in the opposite direction. I soon met Tom finishing his first loop, looking very good.

Back out on the course, Jeff was directing traffic for the half-marathon runners, and encouraged me as I went by. We now had a tail wind for three miles, and soon enough the runners started coming towards me. Thanks to the announcer, most of them knew my name and what I was doing, so I felt like I was on parade. I told Brian that I wished they would be there for lap 4, because it was sure to be ugly by then. As the crowd thinned out, the wind and heat were starting to increase. As I turned south again I met and high-fived my mom, running the half as well. I finished the second loop again in 1:36 and change, including 3 porta-potty stops, and was surprised at my pace.

This time I drank some cold water, and some coke before heading out for lap 3. Most of the runners and walkers were done now, and a few cheered for me as I left. I let the flap of my hat down to shade my neck as the sun was a little more serious now. I had been fueling well with Power-gel every 45 minutes to one hour, plus my electrolyte drink, and S-caps whenever I felt either a little cramping or my stomach was off. I kept cruising along, and now the wind had changed to the evil north wind. I didn't fight it, I kept my effort steady, and ran patiently. I noted that at 50k I was at 3:51, and thought - wow, I could run 4 hours for the second half and still have a very good time! However, the heat was building and my pace was slowing, and the crowd was down to Brian and Bob. I finally made it out of the wind and turned to the south where the tail wind made it feel like an oven. I kept drinking, gelling, and salting. Nearing the end of the lap 3, I came upon Tom, who had called it a day after hurting his quad. Finally, back for the end of the third, I clocked a 1:42. I grabbed ice and put it in my hat, I doused with cold water, drank more water, grabbed a bottle, and went on my way.

Lap 4 was a killer. Right away, I was running into a very stiff wind. It was getting hotter, and my drink was getting nastier by the minute. I knew I had to drink it anyway, so I kept sipping it down. For 3 miles I let the wind control my pace, and then we turned west. Now it was just plain hot. My bowels were complaining and I had to make a pit stop in a farmers field - the onlye moment I was glad everyone had gone home. Brian kept me going, encouraging me to drink and telling me I was doing well. We turned south, and had the hot tail wind again. I could not get cool. I fantasized about being able to lay down in Bright Angel Creek in the Grand Canyon to get my core temperature down. I pondered that this must be something like Badwater, and it didn't make we want to do that race at all. I was discouraged and felt like quitting. I had taken some false pride in my ability to run in the heat. I believed it was only in the 80s, and that I really sucked at this! I felt hydrated, but hot. Finally I asked Brian to bike back and set up an aid station with ice water. He sped off, and soon Bob caught back up to me on his bike. I told him that the heat was really getting me. With 4 miles of the last loop to go, Brian's aid station was in sight. I grabbed a bottle of ice water - ecstasy. I never thought it would taste so good or feel so great to hold in my hot hand. I drank, splashed, doused, and finally began to recover. I ran by the RD's house, and he and some volunteers saw me and cheered wildly. No option to quit. I ambled into the finish area, somewhat revived, but in a very slow 1:56. Jeff, Laura, Bob, Tom, and Brian, all encouraged me to eat, drink, put ice in my clothes, douse. I did it all, then took off. I was now at 6:51, and had less than 10 miles to go.

I was surprised that I felt a little better. All I needed was 9 minute miles or even slower to get the time. I had hoped for something closer to 8 hours, but given the conditions, I was feeling good about just getting the time. Now I could click off the remaining miles. Bob and Brian were now driving to each aid station and setting up options of ice water, ice electrolytes, and S-caps. Jeff, Laura and Tom drove up next to me and encouraged me, having to shout above the wind. I shouted at Laura "It is hot out here, right?" The answer - "96!". OH! Well, no wonder. And someone said the wind was 30 mph, and it felt like it. I trudged along, and soon RDs Brad and Mark drove by and said "Don't go too fast - we need to set up a finish line!" Bob had repeatedly told me that none of them were going to let me go home until I finished this thing. At last, I turned out of the wind and stretched my legs. Three miles to go. My support group leap frogged ahead, bearing the heat with me. One final turn, less than one mile to go. I looked ahead to see the cars parked and my friends standing and waiting. I wanted to be done so badly that I actually picked up the pace. I crossed the finish line in 8:23!

One finds out who their friends are on a day like today (well, at least the heat-tolerant ones!). I really may have quit if Brian and Bob had not put so much effort into the day, and the support of Jeff, Laura, Tom, Brad and Mark really sweetened it up for me. The paper work is being submitted, and a selection committee will decide who gets to represent the US. The announcement will be made in August, so stay tuned!