The Week in Review

The icing on the cake to last week's Bigfoot debacle was that I managed to set a post-injury, post-surgery mileage PR of 42 miles.  This was huge in that, in my mind, getting to the over-40 mileage hump means being "back" and ready for some serious training.  In spite of Bigfoot being a bust, I had a good thing going in that I was getting my miles back.  It was something from which to build.  

After the Bigfoot loops, I managed to drag my weary and frustrated arse to Sharon Woods the next day for a few recovery miles.  I set my mind on doing 4 easy miles, just enough to loosen up and flush out the musculature. The first two miles were tough as I felt all stiff and wooden, but by the end, I felt like I could have done another 4 miles, and actually had to stop myself from doing so.  I am a huge believer in recovery runs after a hard effort.  They have really worked for me as long as they are done super slow and easy.  I felt so much more relaxed after this run.  I was really pumped about riding the mileage momentum I had created this week into the next week. 

I took Monday off as a rest day, and planned to run around 7 miles on Tuesday at Three Creeks after work before it got dark.  Those plans changed when Lisa Fine, a very sweet and totally badass ultra runner friend of Kathy's, was planning to run Highbanks that evening after dark and was looking for other runners to join in.  I could not pass an opportunity to go off-road, in the dark, with a new running companion!  I met Lisa at Kathy's post-Umstead celebration and had been looking forward to running with her for some time.  She is the very kind of positive, bright spirit that I am drawn to, and I had no doubts that our run would be a huge boost for me.  We met at 5:15, donned our headlamps and took off into the woods as the sun slowly made its decent into the horizon.  The first two miles were hilarious as I was DYING trying to keep up with Lisa.  Since so many of my runs are littered with struggle these days, I just attributed the death to my lack of conditioning and a nod to her supreme fitness.  We ran the first big hill that we met with vigor, but by the time we started ascending the second hill, I asked for a walk break as I knew this run would be over quickly if we did not take a rest.  Lisa's response was along the lines of "thank God" and she accused me of pushing the pace.  ME?  Pushing the pace?!?  Ha! We then agreed to take it easy and conversational from then on, and enjoyed the rest of the run pretending we were kicking ass and taking names in the middle-of-the-night portion of a long ultra race :).  It was an awesome 6.7 miles and a run that WILL be repeated many times throughout the coming winter. 

Momentum came to a screeching halt the next day when I managed to feel sick after eating a week-old cherry crumb pie.  Yes, I blame pie for leaving me sick to my stomach and curled up in a ball on the couch.  So no run Wednesday.  Thursdays are usually guaranteed run days for me no matter how my week is going, as it is Turtle Thursday, but this week I was babysitting for a friend, so I wouldn't be at the run.  I got home late, so I decided to wait until Friday to run.  I normally take Fridays as rest days, but this week I had the day off, so I could run earlier in the day so as not to interfere with my Saturday morning group run at Westerville.  I had a 10 am massage scheduled with Catherine McMonigle, the BEST massage therapist a runner could ask for.  We were going to work on my right leg in order to get some of the swelling down and the scar tissue worked out from my surgery.  I had hoped to get the run in after the massage.  Well, long story short, the work that was done, while helpful as always, left me very bruised and sore.  I opted to take yet ANOTHER day off from running as not to hurt myself by pushing it.  I'd just save myself for the next day at Westerville.

I should know by now that when I get deep tissue work done on my legs, I am more sore the next day than the day of the massage.  I had planned 10-15 miles on the roads of Westerville; 15 if I were feeling great, 10 if I felt like schit.  Well, I would have gladly taken feeling like schit.  That run felt like the very first time I ever ran.  I was so incredibly stiff and sore; I just could not push through it.  I kept getting aches and pains in the leg that I darn well knew were related to the massage, but nonetheless they made me paranoid, like I was just a step away from my next big injury.  With a mind full of fear weighing me down, I cut my run to 7.3 miles.  I went home feeling very frustrated; not that I cut my run short, but that I really do not know how to reconcile recovery and re-injury.  After a year of dealing with a multitude if injuries and setbacks, I am absolutely paranoid about every ache, pain, and niggle.  I don't know what I can run through and what I can't.  Have you heard of the phrase, "when in doubt, don't"?  Well, I run by that mantra now, and it is keeping my psyche as fragile as a China doll. 

So, how do I keep this China doll from breaking?  I think it will come with time, of course.  I also need to get and keep consistent with my running.  And I REALLY need some confidence.  All of these craptacular, disappointing runs are taking a toll.  I need some mojo, baby!  So, at the suggestion of my friend Sarah, I decided to enter the Salt Fork 10 miler.  It is the Bigfoot loop run in reverse the day before Bigfoot itself.  I think a solid, shorter trail race is just the tonic to get my ego back on track.  Since I have trained extensively on the loop, I think I can do well at this race.  And it would be nice for all the time I spent training there to be worth something.  So, on December 3, 2011, I pray that the universe will bless my legs with a race that puts Humpty back together again. 

I write this blog post after a strong, painless 6 mile trail run with my Kimberly today.  Looks like I am already on my way...

Comeback: Denied

In my quest to make something out of nothing (ie, finish Bigfoot 50K on scant training), I took a solo trip to Salt Fork State Park yesterday to run two loops of the Bigfoot course.  I needed to know that I could run these two loops slow enough to be both enjoyable and conducive to a race finish.  The race is three 10.4 mile loops, starting and finishing from the Lodge.  I figured if I could make it through two loops of the course in decent shape, a December 4th finish would be within reach and would complete my comeback from injuries.  I had thought about making this a group run, but last week I had organized a run that had some disastrous outcomes (had to move the location due to hunters, then a sprained ankle by a participant, and then Garmin death) which were distracting enough that I did not get in my planned distance.  I needed to concentrate on getting my miles, pace, and nutrition right.  Plus, I wanted to sleep in and not worry about meeting anyone at a particular time.  So, I left home at 10am, and started my first loop at 12:01pm.  I was fortunate enough to run into Kimba prior to my run, and let her know of my plans for the day.  Since I was running solo, I told her I would check in with her via Facebook so that someone knew my whereabouts and that I was OK.  She lives very close to the park, so if I had issues, she'd be in the best position to help a sista' out. 

I was both anticipating and dreading this run at the same time.  Twenty miles was longer than I had gone in months and the prospect of hours alone on the trail just seemed tedious.  Having other runners with me usually breaks up the monotony.  It was obvious I would be working on building my mental muscles as well as my physical ones today.  My legs felt good at the start, which is a good thing as the course starts off as a long downhill.  Once I was along the lake, I took in the sunshine and views. The course is mostly flat with a few little rollers in the first mile and a half.  I committed to walking all hills and inclines in order to help boost my endurance and to get practice with fast-hiking uphill.  Just prior to two miles in, the trail diverges and continues on bridle trail. And with bridle trail comes horses, and with horses, comes horse poop.  But the poop is not as big of a deal as the MUD that is created on the trail.  My experience with bridle trails is that they are all giant mudfests, and the Bigfoot course is largely run on bridle trails and therefore no exception:

Leaf-covered mud

Sole (or rather SOUL)-sucking mud

I had a great pacing strategy in place for hills (ie, WALK), but for the mud, I decided to blaze right through it.  I love getting muddy, and it was fun to splash through the squishy mud.  About 3 miles in, a couple of runners caught me walking up one of the longer hills.  I was amazed that they could run up the hill; I definitely was in no shape for that.  I caught up to them fairly shortly after they passed me as we all had to stop and wait for some horses to pass by.  I chatted with them briefly; the guy's name was Brett and he was running to support his girlfriend Lauren, who would be running Bigfoot.  It would be her first ultra.  We ended up sharing the next couple miles and some conversation.  Lauren had completed 7 marathons, but did not have a lot of trail experience.  She was also running the trail in Vibrams and her feet were already starting to suffer.  I offered some lube and tape for her feet, which she declined.  She remarked about the run being a little harder than anticipated.  I advised that she practice walking the hills, which she'd been trying to run up until that point.  By the time we reached the left turn at about 4.8 miles to go off the bridle trail, I had started to pull ahead of them. By the time I reached the road at the top of the steepest hill on the course, they were nowhere in sight.  I then felt pretty proud of my power-climbing skills, as they may be. 

I had run a loop of this course a couple weeks earlier with Kimba, and was then pleasantly surprised about the 1.25 mile stretch of road right in the middle of the course.  Usually, pavement in a trail race is not categorically pleasant, but given the effect of the mud, hills, and muddy hills in the first half of the course, the pavement offered a welcome reprieve in the form of flat fastness. I learned in that loop with Kimba that time lost climbing hills could be made up here.  So today, even though I was a little fatigued, I took full advantage of the road.  I hit up the road portion at about a 9:30 pace and dropped my overall pace by about a minute per mile. Yes!  That is how it's a-gonna get done!  I was relieved to get back on the trail and find that my road run did not seem to tire me out for the trail.  Even when I was walking up hills, my average pace was not declining.  YES! Encouraged, I ran the flats and downhills with a light and happy heart.  I finished loop 1 feeling awesome in 2:19, about a 13:45 pace. 

Aaaaand then it was time for loop 2.  I do know I was in no mood for a second loop.  One loop felt like enough training for a day, thank you.  But, I had to go back out and do it all again.  I will say that I am no fan of loops.  It is mentally taxing and something that will take time and effort to get over.  The benefit of loops though, is knowing exactly what to expect and therefore how to plan your attack.  My plan: more walking.  I had determined that much of my fatigue was from running through the mud in the first loop, so in order to be able to make it through loop 2, I needed to slow down and work less hard.  So, I decided to pay more attention to the scenery and take pictures and just enjoy the beauty of the day:

 

 

 At about mile 12, I received a phone call from Switzerland.  My Kimberly!!  She had been gone all week on a business trip and had just returned from dinner and was ready to crash for the night (it was after 8pm where she was).  I was happy to hear from her and also grateful for an excuse to walk for a while.  I chatted with her until I was finally walking up a large hill and made what might have been my fatal mistake for the day:  I sat down.  After about 15 minutes of conversation, we hung up and I continued on my way.  Only now, I was all off.  Everything in my body started screaming at me.  Even walking hurt.  WTF??  I know the whole "beware the chair" in long ultras, but a sit-down at 12.5 miles should NOT induce this effect.  I ran and walked until I finally reached the road part of the loop.  By then, it hurt to run.  @#$%!!!  So I walked/jogged the road.  By the time I got back on the trail, I figured I'd just walk it in on the road when I got to the archery range.  I was hopeful that it would be shorter to just take the road back to the Lodge, rather than the trail.  WRONG!  It was just as far.  At least if I stayed on the trail, I'd know where I was and I could have probably made it back faster running down the hills.  As I walked the road, I kept hoping that I'd see the Lodge just around the next turn, and then the next...I was getting really discouraged.  Many times I thought of just lying down on the side of the road to take a nap.  I remembered when I went on a five mile run in Tennessee last fall and two old ladies stopped and offered me a ride out of the blue. Oh how I longed for those old ladies now!  I must've been passed by two dozen cars as I walked along the road and not one of them stopped to offer me a ride.  Those bastards!

I finally made it back to my car with a 20.15 mile run/walk that totaled 5 hours, 9 minutes.  Loop 2 had taken 2 hours and 50 minutes.  Yikes.  I drove home searching for reasons why things went so horribly wrong in the second loop, and the same answer kept creeping back up:  fitness, or lack thereof.  I am just not in shape to do a 50K right now.  Yes, the mud sucked.  Yes, there were hills.  But there is no denying that my endurance is just not up to snuff.  Endurance is something that cannot be faked, and it certainly cannot be developed via cramming long runs.  I was hopeful I could run slow enough to make things pleasant for the majority of the race.  There is a difference between a slow enjoyable pace and a slow miserable pace.  I simply cannot go any slower than my 15:22 overall pace today, which is right at the cutoff.  I need to bag Bigfoot. 

While I am disappointed for my second consecutive 50K DNS, I am encouraged by many things about my run today.  Number one, I pushed myself to 20 miles (OK, so I did try to worm out of it, but I am ignoring the means and celebrating the end!).  Number two, aside from my phone break with Kim, I did not stop moving.  And believe me, I wanted to stop!  But, relentless forward progress is the name of the game in ultras, and the opportunity to work on that in a shorter training run is a welcome stimulus.  I am a believer that the struggles in training can only help on race day, so bring it on!  Number three, I had no issues with my nutrition.  I spent five hours consuming Take 5 candy bars, Honey Stinger waffles, and strawberry Clif Shots.  The candy was a little much, but alternating waffles/gels every half hour worked well. Number four, I now know where I stand in terms of fitness, and what I have to do to get where I want to be.  I'll look forward to attempt #3 at Forget the PR in the spring with smart, focused training over the winter.  Lastly, I got to play all day in the MUD!!  Who can argue with that? 

Muddy feet = happy feet!

Getting Back Up to Speed: Injury, Surgery, and Hopefully, a Comeback

Most of 2011 has been a struggle for me on the injury front, which started in the spring as I was training for my first 50K.  I was very determined to train for this very tough 50K, Forget the PR, as "properly" as possible.  So, long story short, I upped my mileage and also started throwing back-to-back long runs in there.  Every weekend.  I'd do a faster-than-I-should medium long run with the Saturday group at Westerville on flat pavement, then go do hours long trail runs with my friends on Sunday.  For the most part, I did it like this every weekend.  By February, I had developed peroneal tendinitis, which I ran through until I developed a soleus that was so tight, it was creating intense calcaneal pain.  I could not run through that, so I took time off and went to PT.  As soon as that felt better, I was running again.  I managed to do a wicked 20-miler at Great Seal State Park where we ascended Sugarloaf Mountain twice.  I was walking backwards down steps for the next 4 days after that run, but otherwise felt it went well.  Then came Kathy's run at Umstead, where my pacing her last 25 miles would serve as my longest training run for Forget the PR.  Within 10 miles, I had damaged the right lateral quad and simultaneously developed ITBS that prevented me from running downhill, it was so painful.  Thankfully, I was able to complete my pacing duties as Kathy was mostly walking by that time. However, the damage was done and I needed almost 6 weeks off from running to heal and rehab.  I missed Forget the PR and ended up volunteering instead (which was a wonderful experience!).  I was very blessed that Rob Powell, the race director, offered to comp my entry into 2012's race for my service. 

By mid-May, I was able to start running again.  I did not have a race on the calendar, so there was no pressure to run any more than what my body said I could run.  Man, talk about starting over!  It was so hard!  But, it started to come back fairly quickly, and I was feeling good.  I decided that I needed something to train for, and that is when I opted to sign up for YUTC.  A 15.5 mile trail run was a reasonable goal, and the entry fee was low enough that should I relapse into injury mode, I would not lose a lot of cash.  By the beginning of September, I had pushed my mileage back up into the upper 30's and was feeling confident.   Although I had promised myself no ultras or marathons for the rest of the year, I could not help but notice that Bigfoot 50K was December 4.  Heck, that is like almost next year, right?  It was far enough away that I could train conservatively and shoot for a time in the 7 hour range (the cutoff is 8 hours).  The course has a reputation for mud, but it does not have the big hills like Mohican.  I thought it to be totally doable, so I decided to bite the bullet and register, excited that I would complete my comeback and still land my first 50K finish in 2011 after all.

Well, wouldn't you know it, my body had other plans for me once I secured my space in Bigfoot.  Literally within a week of my registration, I started having awful bone pains in my right tibia.  I had broken that tibia and fibula in 2007, and had a rod and screws surgically placed in the tibia to help heal the fracture.  I wasn't a runner when this injury occurred (I slipped on some ice with my arms full of groceries and the rotational torque snapped my leg like a twig), but ever since I started running, I have had all sorts of issues with tightness, soreness, and injury in this leg.   For the record, my left leg has NEVER given me problems.  I had always harbored suspicions that my issues with my right leg had roots with the surgery and hardware.  Last winter, I had given thought to having the hardware removed, but as with any surgery, there are risks involved.  Instead, I opted to work on strengthening exercises to try and correct my imbalanced and weak right side.  However, the bone pain sent some serious red flags that were screaming stress fracture.  After having so many injuries this year, I was pretty paranoid over any weird pain or niggle as it was.  The last thing I wanted was a stress fracture and more weeks off from running, so I made an appointment with the ortho who performed the initial surgery for an assessment.  He determined that I probably did not have a stress fracture, but did note the tightness and inflammation in my leg and surmised that I was indeed at risk for a fracture.   We discussed my hardware in the leg and their possible role in my troubles.  He agreed that the screws that were drilled into my tibia could be causing my symptoms.  Of course, he could not be 100% certain.  After some discussion, he felt that removing the screws were a good course of action.  I asked about waiting until after Bigfoot as I did not want to interrupt my training.  He pretty much told me that the likelihood of me making it to the race without the surgery might be less than with it.  He assured me that the recovery was significantly less than the initial surgery, since there is no bone to heal.  As fast as the incisions healed and the swelling dissipated, I'd be back at it.  So, on September 26, I went ahead and had the screws removed.  

My screws were blue!

 As my doctor had assured me, the surgery was no big deal.  In fact, with a surgery time of 7am, I ended up being home before 10am!  I walked with the aid of crutches for a day, and was able to walk semi-normally two days post-op.  The swelling in my leg was pretty painful, though.  What was reassuring though, was that the tissues that surrounded the screws were so irritated from the surgery that they reproduced the pain that was the source of my initial complaint.  That led me to believe I may have done the right thing by having the surgery.  Even if it fixed nothing, at least I no longer had to wonder if the screws are the problem.  However, fingers are crossed that this is the big fix for me.  The rod is still in my leg, by the way, and will likely stay there forever.  It is fused to my bone and removal is a pretty violent and therefore risky surgery.  No thank you!  As of this post, I still have a tiny bit of swelling and soreness in the leg, but it mostly feels like normal.  Biggest negative consequence of the surgery is that I have a lump of scar tissue near the ankle. I am hoping to see my favorite chiropractor, Dr. Kyle Alexander, for some Graston to help break that up once it is no longer sore. 

So, now lies the question of whether my comeback race at Bigfoot will happen.  I had to take two weeks off running, and then essentially do a reverse taper to get my mileage back up.  So make that a month of lost training.   As of now, I plan to at least start the race.   The race director did institute a deferral and bib transfer policy as of yesterday, so I am wondering about waiting until next year.  Though there is nothing wrong with a DNF, my smart side says wait until next year and run a good race and actually finish.  But my stubborn side does not want to throw in the towel.  We'll see who wins.  No matter what, though, I am ready to move on from being a regular on the DL this year.  Praying for a 2012 of being able to at least START all my races!

Bitten by the Race Bug (YUTC Race Report)

Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of running one of the most wonderful races of my short running career, the Youngstown Ultra Trail Classic, or YUT-C, as it is more commonly referred.  I had signed up for the 25K, as I wasn't sure that I wanted to train through the summer heat and work obligations for a 50K.  I had anticipated this race all summer as it would mark my first non-winter trail race and it was held in Mill Creek Park in Youngstown, Ohio. As a Mahoning Valley native that graduated from nearby Hubbard High School, the opportunity to enjoy a trail race on my old stomping grounds was not to be missed. And, of course, I have slowly been finding myself drawn in by the awesome trail running community in Ohio. 

Since the race was a three hour drive from my current abode in Columbus, I opted drive up the night before and stay with my mother in Hubbard *insert Old Mother Hubbard joke here*.  Francesco's pizza, the BEST Sicilian-style pizza in Northeast Ohio, was on the menu as my pre-race meal. I was happy to learn that my younger sister Brittany, an avid runner in her own right, was willing to get out of bed early on a Saturday morning to cheer me on. By 10:30, we had said our good-nights and I headed up to bed. 

In spite of a relatively late race time of 8am, I was awake at 5:30am. I am one of those morning runners that needs lots of time to eat, digest, dress, and generally wake up before hitting the trail. This is precisely why I do not run in the morning before work...I'd have to get up at 2:30am to fit it all in!  I had my usual pre-run breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, toast, a banana, juice, and a half cup of black coffee. I like having a solid meal before I run, and I have learned that the protein in the eggs helps with satiety throughout my run. Since I have spent so much of the year recovering from various injuries, I decided to go all out on the lower body compression wear. I wore my CW-X compression shorts and a pair of CEP calf sleeves. Since the only pair of trail shoes that I owned, Brooks Cascadias, did not offer enough support for me, I decided to run the race in my Mizuno Inspires, which are road shoes. Lately, I am realizing that while lots of cushioning feels great initially, over the long haul, a firmer shoe such as the Inspire seems to serve me much better. I didn't think that Mill Creeks Park's trails would be such that a trail shoe would be needed anyway. The biggest part of my wardrobe was not what I wore, but what I didn't wear. I still have not replaced my Garmin 405 that crapped out on me a month and a half ago, so I decided to go "old school" and wear a good old fashioned Timex watch. I'd be running based on effort, not on feedback from a GPS. I was actually quite interested in how I'd do using that technique...you know, running on feel. The race wear was capped out with my Central Ohio Trail Runners shirt that Kat gifted me at Umstead, and a visor as opposed to a hat so I would not overheat.

At 6:40am I picked up Brittany and we made our way to the Fellows Riverside Gardens part of Mill Creek Park. One thing that astounded me was how quick of a drive it was from Hubbard. I haven't lived in the area for over 12 years, and back then everything always seemed to be so far away from where we lived, but we were literally parking the car in about 15 minutes. Nice. We walked from my car down behind the gardens to the Old Log Cabin where the start/finish was located. I picked up my race packet, pinned on my race number, and then walked back up to my car to pack away my goodie bag. On the way up, we ran into Mike Keller, another central Ohio trail runner who I had met while pacing Kat at Umstead. Once we got back down to the start/finish, people I knew started coming out of the woodwork - Linda from Turtle Thursdays, Mark Carroll, Kimba...this is one of the things I have come to enjoy about trail races very quickly: they are like family reunions! And I meet more new awesome people every time I get out and run.

After a few parting words from Bob Combs, the race director, we were finally on our way. The morning was beautiful - around 60 degrees and partly cloudy. It was truly a perfect day for a race like this. The first part of the race is on pavement for about a half mile or so before hitting a steep iron stair case. Of course, since I always take my rightful starting place near the back of the pack, this meant that there was a huge bottleneck of people waiting to go up. One thing I have learned early on with trail races is that in the beginning of the race, it is extra crowded and it takes time for the pack to thin out. Thankfully, I was in no big hurry and was fine with the crowd. Once we summitted the stairs, we were finally on some single track.

The trail along Lake Glacier was full of small ascents and descents. It was a little more slippery than I had anticipated, so for a few moments I had wondered if road shoes were a good idea. I am still not very confident on trail yet; and since the trail was still crowded, I didn't want to take the chance of falling into someone and potentially ruining their day. Again, I had to be patient. We finally had a couple good walking hills; one of which was considerably pitched. At the top of this hill lies what I later learned was referred to as the "Love Log". Apparently this moniker was derived via the most common technique used to get over the obstacle: you literally have to belly crawl over it, and it looks kinda like you're giving the log a little lovin' ;).  At least, that was MY interpretation of the name. 

Once we were past Lake Glacier,  we were then running along side Lake Cohasset, where the trail was flatter, but suddenly full of rocks and roots. I really wanted to take off a little here, but again I was very apprehensive. Since most of my technical trail running took place over the winter when the snow packed in obstacles such as rocks and roots, I wasn't well-practiced in the art of not face-planting. Since I really wanted to get out of the race intact, I slowed down as to minimize my chances of taking a spill. Finally, after an hour of running, I arrived at the covered bridge aid station, which was about 4 miles into the race. Well, 4 miles an hour was pretty slow-going, so I was hoping that the aid stop would thin the crowd a little. I refilled my water and got on my merry way.

Getting a refill at the Covered Bridge Aid Station. Photo credit: Jeff Musick

Once I left the aid station at the covered bridge, my wish was granted: the throngs of people had finally thinned out! I was sufficiently warmed up and feeling a bit more confident, so I was ready to see what I was made of with loop 1 around Lake Newport. I made my way into the woods and picked up the pace. I felt really good at this point and wasn't too worried about going too fast...it was only 25K! I was doing a much better job of negotiating the obstacles on the trail; I actually felt nimble and in control as opposed to my usual state of clumsy and uncoordinated. I cruised along the water and side-stepped a large root mass when suddenly I felt a searing, tearing pain in my right peroneal muscles (lower side of the leg in front of the calf). Oh #$%^!!! I was certain I had torn the muscle. The pain ached and burned like nothing I had ever felt. It took my breath away. I pulled off the trail for a moment to collect myself and to decide what I wanted to do about the situation. I could turn around and walk back to the aid station and just drop. No, I am NOT dropping out of a freakin' 25K race. I'd barely made it 5 miles for Pete's sake! So, I got back on the trail and decided to walk for a few and see how the leg felt. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. It really hurt, but I seemed to be OK walking, so I tried to jog a bit. It hurt, but the pain was tolerable. I decided to just run very delicately and see what happens. In the back of my mind, I felt I was once again being foolish. I mean, I am really going to try to run with a torn muscle?!? On trail??? But, I hadn't arrived at the starting line of a goal race all year healthy enough to finish, and I was so looking forward to this race. I had to try to stick it out, even if it was stupid. If the pain was excruciating by the time I got back to the covered bridge, I would call it a day. Good plan.

So, I started jogging along, with all sorts of anxiety-ridden thoughts mulling around in my head: What if my leg was really hurt bad? How much rehab will I need? Will I at least be able to do a spring 50K? Maybe trail running isn't for me; I can't even make it 5 miles without hurting myself! As all this dialogue was fluttering about in my brain, I realized that I had run at least 2-2.5 miles. While the pain was steadily increasing, it really wasn't affected by the running all that much. Odd. I really didn't want to pull down the compression sleeve on my calf to look at the damage; I had convinced myself that the sleeve was probably holding my musculature in place and that to remove the sleeve would be to cripple myself for life.  Well, I had to look. I stopped at a footbridge over a small stream and peeled the stocking away. There, on the side of my leg was a red swelling with a huge bloody hole at the top. I didn't tear anything...I got stung by something. Something NASTY! HAPPY DAY!!!!! I had never been so excited to have been attacked by nature in my life. I wasn't injured at all. I was just having a really painful response to the venom in my leg. I seriously felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders and from there I took off down the trail feeling so much better about everything.

Have you ever given yourself a paper cut and not realized it? And when you suddenly realize the cut is there, it is THAT precise moment when it starts to hurt? Well, the sting hurt a bit before I discovered what it really was, but it REALLY started to become excruciating after I looked at it.  I had told myself before that I really needed to learn to run through pain, so I guess I was going to get schooled today! I continued to amble along the trail when the harsh breeze of the 50K race leader blew by me on his second lap around Lake Newport. I got lapped. Talk about getting schooled! A few moments later, I felt a quick pat on my shoulder and heard the words "nice work" as Shaun Pope, who was currently a short distance behind the dude who blew by me a few moments earlier, also made his way to pass me. Shaun is seriously one of the nicest young men I have encountered in any race, and the fact that he would make it a point to encourage me while in a dog fight of his own meant a lot to me. Shaun passed me so quick that I didn't have a chance to offer my own encouragement, but in my head I was willing him to win this thing. I watched in amazement as he went bouncing down the next hill with such fearlessness! I noticed that in many of the other front runners that eventually lapped me: they had no fear of the trail whatsoever. They ran across those knarly trails so smoothly, you'd think they were on flat pavement and not on trail. As I meekly tip-toed down the little hill Shaun just attacked with abandon, I made a mental note to myself:  learn to run FEARLESSLY. 

Trying to run fearlessly! Photo credit: Jeff Musick

As I continued on through the rest of the loop, I caught up to a young lady named Courtney, who I had met earlier in the race. I told her of my encounter with the demon hornet from hell (seriously, what WAS that thing??), as I thought it would be helpful for someone to know what happened in case I had a delayed allergic reaction and passed out on the trail. We ended up sharing the rest of the loop together. When we rolled back into the covered bridge aid station, I told the volunteers of my situation with the sting and asked if they had anything at all for the pain that was still getting worse and worse. Thankfully, they had bee sting sticks, and one of the awesome volunteers lubed up my leg with the stuff. I again refilled my water and looked forward to loop 2 with just a little bit of paranoia. I knew I would have to revisit the scene of the crime and I was hopeful that lightening would not strike twice with regards to the hornets. Apparently, ground hornets abound in the park this time of year, and I am not the first person to get stung in the history of the race.  I told myself that I needed to quit worrying and get going. It was just a little bug bite! Really! As an aside, I managed the 4 mile loop in just around 40 minutes. With all the drama that took place during the loop, I was pretty speedy, at least for me. Win!

Getting ready to attack loop 2! Photo credit: Sharon Dimuzio

Loop number two was fairly uneventful. I made it through the part of the course where I got stung earlier without incident and the pain in my leg was finally starting to lessen. For as crowded as the trail was earlier, I was completely alone now. I was finally starting to notice that I was also feeling a little fatigued. I took my second gel - a Honey Stinger (irony, much?) - and waited for the boost to kick in.  As I ran and waited, I encountered Linda Reeder, who had attended a few of our Turtle Thursday runs with the Cbus Pacers over the winter.  She was walking and was very emotional as she had taken a nasty fall earlier and had scraped up her hand. I walked with her for a while and tried my best to lift her spirits and get her running again. After between 5-10 minutes of walking, I had to get moving along. I wished Linda well and hoped that she would work through her bad patch and finish. I was dangling precariously close to having a fall of my own at this point, as I was starting to trip more and more on this loop. About halfway through the loop, I was stuck in a trail train of two guys in front of me and one woman behind me, when I suddenly stubbed my toe and went flying forward. I literally came within millimeters of having my head up the butt of the guy in front of me. Of course, that set off a litany of head-ass jokes as we all continued together on the trail. Lesson learned about following too closely :).

I finished the second Newport Lake loop in about 50 minutes. Although I had no goal but to have a good time on the course, in the back of my mind, I thought a sub-3 hour finish was doable. The Timex read about 2:30 when I made my final visit to the covered bridge before heading to the finish.  I had no idea exactly how much further I had to run before I was done, so I asked one of the volunteers, "How much farther, Papa Smurf?!" The answer was 3.5 miles. Poop. I was getting tired anyway, so I decided to walk the little stretch of road that was left before getting back on the trail. Once on the trail, I looked up ahead and noticed  Mike Keller! I bolted down the trail (fearlessly, I might add!) to catch up with him. Mike is a much more experienced and faster trail runner than I am, so if I managed to catch up to him, then he must have been having a bad race. Indeed, his stomach was not cooperating with him, as he was battling the effects of nausea. I offered to finish the race with him if he wanted some company for the rest of the race. He was all for that and I was happy to have his wit and humor along with me for the rest of my own race. We ran when Mike felt he could, and walked and joked the rest of the time.  Of course, I tripped and stumbled more than I care to mention during this part of the race. The social runner in me and the runner that is still learning the ways of the trail have not yet learned to coexist. Since I was usually running in front of Mike, anytime I had something to say to him, I would instinctively turn around to talk, which meant taking my eyes off the trail in front of me. Inevitably, I would trip and Mike would kindly remind me to keep my eyes on the trail. Yep, need to work on that. Nonetheless, I enjoyed Mike's company tremendously and was disappointed when the finish line finally came into view.  Mike, being the gentleman that he is (only after trying to elbow me off the road and drag me backwards by my water belt...haha!) allowed me to cross the line in front of him.  We finished the race in 3:16. 

Finishing the race with gentleman Mike right behind! Photo credit: Sharon Dimuzio

Given that my eyes are ultimately focused on a 50K finish, I gave myself a moment to ponder whether I could have gone any further today. Certainly the idea of another go-round of the course didn't hold a lot of appeal at the moment - 25K felt just right. I was tired, that was for certain. However, I did not fuel as though I were running a 50K. I took two gels the entire race - one per hour.  That is considerably less than what I would have consumed had I intended for 50K, so I would surmise that much of my fatigue was in part due to inadequate fueling.  And, of course, I haven't run farther than 16 miles in months, so my legs weren't completely conditioned for longer distance. All and all, I thought the race was a success. In spite of some interesting and unexpected challenges that were thrown my way, I pushed through and still managed to enjoy my time on the course. I learned that I still do have a lot to learn when it comes to trail race etiquette and technical maneuvering.  I do know that I am very hooked on trail running for the connection with nature, people, and myself. I look forward to many more off-road adventures!

Oh, and remember the nice, speedy guy Shaun, who passed me early in the race? He managed to catch the guy in front of him and won the race in a course record of 3:51. YES! I love it when nice guys finish first. Way to go Shaun!