Laurel Highlands--Maybe not the wisest choice

First off, Laurel Highlands is an excellent event and I highly recommend it. This was the 30th year for the 70 mile race (a 50k option was added 3 years ago and there is a 70 mile relay option for teams of 2-5 people). The trail is, more or less, 70 miles of point to point single track run along ridgelines in a lovely ‘mountainous’ (east coast definition) heavily forested section of PA. The trail, the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail, is well-marked with yellow blazes, and concrete obelisks that mark every mile. You would have to struggle to get lost here, as the yellow blazes are so frequent, they're almost obnoxious.

Not feeling completely recovered from MMT, I wasn't sure what to expect going in, and really just wanted to experience the LHHT from point to point. While I loved the trail, I didn't necessarily have a good time out there, and am hoping that I didn't do something really stupid, such as injure myself to the point where I have to take extensive time off. A quick recap of the highs and lows, starting off with the lows and ending on a positive note:

The Bad:

1. I puked. Now, I realize that others do this every time they run an ultra. I, however, can count on one hand the number of times I have puked in my life. I just don’t puke. E.g. Give me a bottle of whiskey and no matter how much I consume, I will not puke—probably not a good thing, but my sphincter is stubborn. I can remember my sister being a bit more of a puker as a kid, and every time it happened, I would run to the farthest spot from her, plug my ears, and sing ‘Jingle Bells’ as loudly as possible (my fear response—I also do this in horror movies). Not only do I not puke, but I fear it. I puked around mile 55 when I tried to swallow a gel, and then again in the parking lot of the hotel with a crowd watching. No fun. I also puked after MMT in the shower. Am I becoming a puker? No fun at all!

2. The ankle/foot issue that has been nagging since mid-April bothered me from the beginning of the run and seemed to worsen. It was bad enough that after about 20 miles every time I stepped on a rock or ground that caused my left foot to be flexed, I noticed it, and really angled rocks occasionally caused me to yelp in pain. It started early, and I considered dropping but couldn’t decide if I was going to make it worse by continuing. I still haven’t come to a conclusion on that one, though I’ve got an appointment to see my foot doctor in the morning. After some on-line research, I’ve self-diagnosed it as tibialis posterior tendonitis and hope that it’s a minor case, although my foot doesn’t like to go in any direction except forward at the moment. I’m hoping the magic “Make-a-doctors-appointment-and-the pain-will-go-away” strategy will work. It seems every time I finally give in and go see a doctor whatever has been ailing me disappears just in time for the appointment. Here’s hoping that works tomorrow, or that he tells me to suck it up and run on it.

3. I just felt off. My heart rate seemed really elevated and my breathing seemed off. MMT was one month prior—residual effects? I'm a WUS?

4. I wasn’t really having fun, and wondering far too often, ‘Why?’

5. A couple of good crashes. To be expected.

6. Despite the fact that it looked like trolls and gnomes should have been frolicking about in the woods, not a single one made him or herself visible to me. Boo.

The Good:

1. The trail. These pictures aren't mine (they are Tim Segina's), but picture 70 miles of single track, climbing up forested slopes, winding through fields of ferns, around rock formations, across dozens of log bridges, through patches of mountain laurel, up rocky staircases, with the bonus of a blazing downhill to the finish. The scenery was really hard to beat.

2. Legs felt good. Besides my ankle/foot issue, my legs felt pretty frisky.

3. Ferns. Did I mention that there were miles upon miles of lovely, lovely ferns? IF there was ever a place for gnomes or trolls to pop out a wish you a happy afternoon, LH is the place. Reminded me of the troll walks that one of my bio professors in college used to lead. Of course, we never saw trolls on any of those, either—I'm still a believer, though.

4. A win. Really, winning is almost always fun, even if it was less fun on Saturday. My time of 14:02 was good enough for first woman. Only one woman has broken 14 hours in the 30 years of Laurel Highlands (CR is 20 years old at 13:46). I really felt like I was standing still at times. Heck, I was standing still at times. I do hope to run this one again, and feel like there's a lot of room for improvement.

5. Fun road trip. There were some memorable moments. What happens in Comfort Inn room 219 stays in room 219. Don’t worry Keith and Mitchell—heck, you don’t read this blog anyway—your spooning incident is safe with me.

6. The race organization was top-notch. Thanks to the race directors who put on a great event. I still haven't figured out what causes some races to fill and other not to fill. It doesn't sound like the current RDs want this one to get much bigger, but regardless of size why some races fill in a week, and others never fill is something that puzzles me. This is the type of event that I would list as a favorite and one that should fill in minutes. I'm glad that it doesn't, being that I sent in my entry fee the week of the event. It is nice to still have awesome events around that one can jump into on race morning.


Give this one a try—you won't regret it!!

Laurel Highlands it is.

For some reason the thought of 40 miles at Highlands Sky next weekend seemed like too much too soon, so I opted for 70 miles at Laurel Highlands this weekend. Seems like a logical choice, no? Both are supposed to be beautiful races. I've been told that Laurel Highlands has some nice ferny patches. I'm a sucker for ferns and forest gnomes.

On another note, I survived my first bike ride. I got the bike home, and then was petrified to head out for a ride for fear of tipping over. After an hour of psyching myself up, I ventured out. The clipless pedals were a cinch. Can't wait to get out again.... maybe for a little recovery ride on Sunday.

What to do next?

I'm finally starting to feel recovered from MMT. I had a rough week following--my hip flexors wouldn't flex, and my lower back felt like someone had kicked me repeatedly (not that I know what that feels like...). Bruised kidneys I presume, and a reminder that 100s are really not good for you. So, after a 0 mile week following MMT, I ran to work most days last week and got in 16 miles on Saturday for a 45 mile week. I feel like I'm ready to ramp back up to 70 or so. That said, I felt sluggish on Saturday, but the combination of taking yesterday off to swim, several whiskey sours, and a great 6 mile run commute this morning, I'm wanting to jump into a 100 miler in the coming weeks. How quickly we forget....

I only have one thing on the calendar this summer, and that's Where's Waldo on Aug 22.

So that leaves me wondering what to do next. Laurel Highlands 70 is in a little less than 2 weeks. It's not far off in PA, and supposed to be a beautiful trail, with lots of nice ferns--I'm a sucker for ferns. Or there is Highlands Sky 40 in WV the weekend following. I haven't run Highlands Sky, but have seen parts of the course and it is gorgeous. Jumping into Bighorn 100 has crossed my mind, too. I'm sure my run home will restore sanity.

One goal for the summer is more cross training. I hope to both bike and swim at least once or twice a week. My new road bike arrived over the weekend, so once my pedals arrive, the fun of Amy with clipless pedals begins. I hope that there is no correlation between falling while running on trails and falling on a road bike. While in El Salvador, I experimented a couple of times with clipless pedals, and only fell in the first 5 seconds the first time I was on the bike. I hadn't been warned about tipping over (seems obvious enough that one shouldn't have to be warned), and it hadn't occurred to me until it happened. After the initial fall, I was able to successfully navigate a road with many speed bumps and herds of cattle without further incident. Plus, I was wearing size 13 mens shoes on a bike fit for that man, so I'm guessing that it can only get easier. Excited for my first ride this weekend.

Now to decide what to run.....

MMT 2009: Extreme Weather Edition and Death March 2

I'm having some troubles putting MMT 2009 into words. Overall, it was a good day. As I've said before, I love my VHTRC running buddies, and MMT feels like a family outing in the mountains. Every aid station is filled with friends hanging out--the lucky ones are drinking bourbon--ready to wait on you hand and foot. Heck, one of my dear friends crewing for me was so kind as to remove my disgusting wet socks and shoes, dry my blister-ridden feet, and re-shoe me. That's love.

I was pretty nervous heading into MMT. I didn't necessarily feel in any better shape than last year, but people seemed to expect more of me. Last year I mentioned to someone that I wanted to run 26 hours, and they encouraged me to be realistic. This year I mentioned 24 hours, and people said I had a shot at Sue’s record (under 23). So, in the end, and shared only with me, I decided to run under Sue’s splits until I couldn’t.

It's funny how little comments can turn into little inner voices that stick with you and keep surfacing during a 100 miles. And in my case, it's often not the positive comments that stick with me, but rather the comments that probably weren’t meant as digs, but that turn into flashing billboards by the end of the run. A couple of those come to mind. First, the thoughtful wish of last year’s pacer that I “enjoy the last 20 miles more than last year.” When I didn’t understand the comment, he clarified to say that he hoped I’d be able to run more of it and not let it be another death march. I started thinking about that potential death march a little too early on Saturday. The second being Horton telling me to “be smart” a dozen times on Friday and Saturday. I find it kind of irritating when people tell me before a race to, "Run smart." To me, that's really not a confidence builder. It's kind of like saying, "I expect you to potentially fuck up, thus I need to remind you to run smarter than you would normally." I feel I usually run pretty smart races. And sometimes, smart is boring. I probably could have approached MMT differently, but a conservative race would have likely brought me across the finish line at about the same time. I didn’t end up running quite what I wanted to, but I wasn’t too far off my goal, and heck, I put it all out there. I figured I had nothing to lose—go hard or go home. And while I didn't quite succeed, I didn't quite fail, either.

I started off quickly. I knew I would. Heck, I even meant to, as I figured I had nothing to lose. Go hard or go home…. I was running with Mike Mason for a while, and knew that I probably shouldn’t be, but enjoyed his company, nonetheless. It was REALLY hot, and humid, and I was drenched by about 5:03 a.m. True, I love heat in general, and have at times waited for that 2 p.m. 100+ time of the day in the middle of summer to go for a run. But what’s fun for 10 miles in July, is not necessarily fun for 100 miles in early May, and my winter heat training in El Salvador seems to have worn off a bit. At Habron (mile 24) I suffered a bit on the climb out of the aid station and started to reflect on running smart and a potential death march. However, by the end of the climb and the run into Roosevelt, I felt pretty good again. I really like the run into Roosevelt—rolling, runnable and shady. And, I broke out my shuffle loaded with 6 hours of Split Lip and Scroat Belly, and my mood improved drastically. The climb out of Roosevelt before descending into Gap 1 is not a favorite of mine. And it was insanely hot, as a fire had cleared most of the tree cover. I didn’t feel like I was moving fast, but caught up and passed Adam Cassedy on the way down, and thought, “Oh, fuck.” There are few times when I should be up running with Adam.

At Gap 1, my crew mentioned that Keith had just gone through, and I thought, “Oh, fuck.” My apologies, as my vocabulary was a bit limited on Saturday…. There are very few times when I should be in Keith’s vicinity, especially on MMT trails. The climb up and trip along Kearns (worst section at MMT, in my opinion) were uneventful—just really, really hot, and I felt like I was crawling over the rock piles. I saw a nice big black snake, but didn’t see any runners until I started to descend and saw Keith in front of me. Again, “Fuck.” Keith was really suffering from the heat. We stopped for water together at the road, and I ran on ahead into the Picnic Area for a brief stop and up the climb to Bird Knob.

Luckily for Keith, and most others, the heat broke as a huge thunder storm rolled in. It was a lovely storm, with huge lightning bolts scattering the horizon. Not necessarily what you want when you’re on a cleared road on a high point on top, but it was lovely. Saddest part during the Bird Knob section was the demise of my iPod--they don't hold up very well in rainstorms, apparently. No more Scroat Belly. Major downer. I ran through the aid station on Bird Knob, as I was shivering by this point, and ran along Bird Knob and down to the Visitor’s Center. Low and behold, a lovely latrine was awaiting me there, complete with squishy Charmin and baby wipes, and I had my first not-so-lovely incident of the day (although you couldn't have asked for better timing). I met up with my crew down at 211, and headed on up towards Gap 2.

I was still feeling pretty good at this point. Not great, but the wheels were still on. Joe Kulak caught up to me on the road, but then fell back on the climb. I felt another bathroom emergency coming on, and he passed me along the fire road down to the Crisman Hollow Road as I made a very public pit stop. A recent burn had left very few bathroom options….. I was starting to feel a little crappy (literally) at this point, and made it into Gap 2, not quite as smiley as I had been at other aid stations. I grabbed a wad of toilet paper, and departed for Moreland, where I would pick up my pacer, Mike Schuster, as it was still too early for him to jump in.

Moreland is where the wheels started to fall off. My quads were starting to feel like bricks, and I was having a real problem with traction and sliding around on the rocks. On the climb up Short Mountain, Adam passed by early, and then Nate bounded by with his pacer, followed by Keith. Schuster and I had just been discussing Keith’s personal life, so it was perfect when Keith stopped to show us the engagement ring he had been carrying with him the entire day. He said that he wanted proof that he had carried it the whole way, but that it was a SECRET and that only Schuster and I knew. Funny that my crew later mentioned, “I think Keith is going to propose at the finish.” Slick, Keith. :)

We passed by Nate and pacer again, who were having some light issues (a.k.a. running w/o lights on short mountain) and we geared them up to get them down to the aid station. At the aid station, my lovely crew changed my socks and shoes, as I was starting to have a problem bending over that far. My feet were fairly trashed, but they had been for about 50 miles. At this point, I was starting to worry that I would not be able to get up the last few big climbs on my quads.

The last 25 miles were pretty uneventful, and not entirely pleasant. It rained much of the night, I think. Nate and new friend flew by us climbing out of Edinburg towards Woodstock, but we oddly passed them back, expecting them to catch back up quickly. We wouldn’t see them again…..trolls? The only other person to pass by was Neal Gorman, who turns out to be a neighbor in DC, and after inviting him to WUS--our Tuesday night running group--he sped off. After Woodstock, there’s a rolling portion followed by a steep down into Powell’s Fort, and then just 2 big climbs and descents to the finish. The section from Woodstock was painful. My quads and hip flexors had stopped functioning, and I had given up on eating and drinking much after Edinburg. We finally got to Elizabeth’s Furnace and started the last excruciating climb. I was literally lifting up my legs with my hands to get them up and over the rocky staircase that leads to the top. I was in tears, and frustrated at what was turning into a miserable death march, again. Again, sometimes advice can seem like a premonition. All good things come to an end, and thus, the climb did, too. Unfortunately, it turned into a downhill, which I couldn’t run. We hobbled in, and finally approached the finish line, where I could see that I could still make it in under 25 hours if I ran, if just by a few seconds. I shuffled in at 24:59:55, good for 10th overall, and 1st female.

Many thanks to my wonderful crew, Bobby, Jennifer, Katherine and Susan. They were always ready and waiting for me, and went so far as to undress and re-shoe me. It meant a lot to have some of my non-ultra friends come out and meet the other half of my life. And special thanks to Bobby, who showed them the ropes and made sure that both they and I were comfortable. I think they all had a good time. Katherine had mentioned before the run that she wanted me to be ‘happy’ throughout. I tried to smile, and did a pretty good job of it until the wheels fell off. It actually helped to have her say that, as I tried to run into each aid station as chipper as possible. And, of course, thanks to an awesome pacer, Mike. I felt really bad for Mike, as it progressed further and further into a death march. It’s a huge sacrifice to go for a long hike in the woods at night in a rainstorm.

Overall, I’m happy with the run. Even though it wasn’t quite what I wanted, it leaves me motivated to return to get under 24 hours another year. Or maybe under 22:38….

Post-run, I’m still not feeling stellar. Bleeding kidneys that still feel bruised, have left me a little lackluster until today. And my hip flexors still refuse to flex, although I’m hoping they get motivated soon. I plan to take a good week off from running, and hope to be in the pool by this weekend. I’ll post more on the nutrition/gear/shoes used in another post, as this one is already way too long. But in the meantime, the traction of the Montrail Mountain Masochists was lackluster, at best.


And the happy couple did get their moment at the end, even if it was interrupted by a discussion over course markings. Congrats Keith and Tracy!!

Pre-MMT Dreaming.

Anxiety has set in full force, as have my dreams involving various athletic feats where I am clumsy and failing miserably. Last night I was attempting another surfing lesson (I had attempted this in real life this winter in El Salvador and got pummeled by my board) and was in a pool with a large group of people. I was using an insanely narrow board, and couldn't stand up, so my instructor (a beautiful, beautiful man) crafted me an impromptu one out of cardboard. I tried and tried, but couldn't stand up, as my board was really soggy, and not so stable.

Last week I dreamt I was at MMT, and somehow got onto the all weather track portion (sounds like MMT, no?) and couldn't get back on trail. I later woke up (in the dream) at a hotel (again, somewhere along the MMT course), and had accidentally taken a 4.5 hour nap. I had a heck of a time getting my teeth brushed and getting back on trail again.

Back to real life, I felt the need for a pretty strong taper, so have been taking it really easy the past couple of weeks. I'm still running to work (4-6 miles), but after an 18 miler on May 1, haven't done anything over 8 miles. I've also tried to stay off of my feet on a couple of recovery run days, venturing into the pool for a couple of mile swims. I was having some pains on the inside of my left foot/ankle, so hope that a couple of very restful weeks, will leave me rested and my foot happy. Tapers are hard. It doesn't take me long to make me feel like I'm 100% out of shape.

Now it's time for organizing gear, figuring out which shoes to wear, and of course, the most important, what color skirt to wear. I'm going with the Montrail Mountain Masochist. I wore them for an 8 mile run on some really rocky trails in the Catskills this weekend, and started to second guess my choice. It was a wet weekend, and there were several spots where I slipped on rocks. I'm not sure that it was the shoes though. Mossy rocks are slippery, and I don't know if anything is going to keep me upright at MMT. It's been a year since I've visited my hand surgeon, so hopefully the rain will be light, and the rocks sticky. I'll have some La Sportiva Fireblades and some old-school Montrail Hardrocks as back-ups for a shoe change. It's going to be muddy again, this year, so a shoe change will likely be necessary around Gap2, or so.

Besides some pre-run anxiety, I'm really looking forward to spending the weekend with old friends and new this weekend at the ranch, along the trail, and at the aid stations. The VHTRC puts on great events, and MMT is no exception. Here's hoping the rocks on Short Mountain have spontaneously combusted since the Chocolate Bunny.

Promise Land 2009, MMT long training runs are done.

Like Bull Run Run, this was my 3rd time running Promise Land.  And like Bull Run, it is one that I hope to return to again and again.  A Horton event, Promise Land measures at a bit more than a 50K (34.3 miles on my watch).  Held in the end of April, the red buds are always blooming, and the tree are just beginning to really green.  PL is arguably one of the most scenic ultras in the area, and while I had considered not going after a hard effort at BRR last weekend, I decided I'd be more comfortable with one more last long run before MMT.   I was surprisingly not sore after BRR, and PL has a couple of good quad-trashing downhills.  The course features a few good climbs and descents; the website claims about 8000 feet of elevation gain over the 34 miles (and the same in descent). 

The forecast was for upper 80s or low 90s and the weather didn't disappoint.  What started out as a warm day, just continued to get warmer.  Many runners camp in the field that is by the race start/finish, and this year we decided to camp too.  It made for a really easy morning, as the run starts at 5:30, which means an early morning regardless of where you're coming from.  I was chilly when I went to bed, but was surprised to wake up to temps that were already about 10-15 degress or so warmer than the night before..  I actually didn't mind the heat until the final climb up Apple Orchard Falls, where it started to feel a bit steamy.  

For me, I have 2 favorite sections of the course.  The first is the first big downhill/rolling section which is along a grassy fire road up near the Blue Ridge Parkway.  The sun has just risen at this point in the run, and the views of the blue ridges off to the right are spectacular.  My second favorite is the climb up Apple Orchard Falls.  It's the final big climb, and passes along a beautiful stream and then climbs up an impressive water fall and a set of wooden steps that didn't seem as long as I had remembered. The water seemed to be up this year, and the falls were even more spectacular than I remembered.  

I went into it as a final long run before MMT, and vowed to myself not to run it too hard.  I didn't feel like I really pushed it, just had a good last long run, and finished up right at 6:00, which is about 10 minutes faster than I ran it in last year.  The finish is a long downhill road section (the same section you climb at the beginning) and it felt good to cruise down the last 3 miles or so to the finish.  I ended up as first loser, as Horton likes to mention (2nd female), about 10 minute behind Bethany.  Bethany ran strong the entire day, and I lost sight of her around mile 20 and never saw her again.   Sean represented WUS well by winning in just over 5 hours, and Vicki Kendall turned in a great performance in winning her age group and running a huge PL PR of 6:49.  Vicki is going to have a great MMT.  

It feels good to be done with long runs, and I plan to spend the next 3 weeks resting up for MMT.  I feel like I've put in the miles for the most part, with 4 long runs of 50 miles, 31 miles, 50 miles and 34 miles in the past 5 weekends.  The main thing I worry about is my lack of training on MMT trails this winter.  I plan to do one more run on them this weekend, but at this point, there's not much I can do.  If nothing else, hopefully my winter of heat training in El Salvador will compensate for my lack of rocky trail training.   Bring on the heat!  

Bull Run Run 2009, I love the VHTRC!!

This was my 3rd year running the Bull Run Run 50 miler--I've run it every year and it's a favorite. I won BRR in 2007 in what I considered to be a bit of a fluke (lucky day), and slogged through it painfully last year on dead legs after having run a fun down-hill 35-miles in Bolivia the weekend prior. I was hoping for somewhere in between this year...a solid training run for the MMT 100 coming up in a month.

I had no intention of 'racing' BRR; I hadn’t even decided to run it until a couple of weeks ago, and decided to run it because I hoped that two 50 milers and two 50Ks scheduled within a period of 5 weeks would be enough to get me feeling in shape for MMT. I also planned to hit 80 mile weeks for 3 weeks in a row, with BRR coming on the Saturday of the second week, sandwiched in between the Chocolate Bunny and Promiseland 50Ks. I haven’t actually quite hit that goal, ending up with 77 miles the week of Chocolate Bunny and 75 miles the week of BRR, but pretty close. I'm not a mileage whore--80 miles is about as high as I get. So, I had no plans of running hard, but somehow in the first mile, got into the lead and then just never backed off. I'm still calling it a training run, just more of a tempo-paced training run than I had planned for.

I felt strong on the first out and back (16 miles) and really enjoyed the first section of trail. I’m not sure if I have ever even noticed the bluebells in years past, or at least they hadn’t caught my attention like they did this year. They were in their full glory and were stunning!

I started to worry a bit around Hemlock (start/finish) when I realized I was going to have enough Gus to get me to about mile 30. I hadn't thought about gear until the morning of, and had some gear issues--brought along a Nathan bladder for my Camelbak--so used a handheld water bottle instead. Lately I've been sticking to an all Gu diet on short runs (did I just call 50 miles a short run?), especially on a warm day like Saturday. It's hard to cram more than 3 gels into my handheld pocket, and any more than 2 gels in my skirt weigh it down to the point of falling down. An issue. So, I had 5 gels along for what I was hoping to be a sub 9 hour run. Not so smart. But there is always aid station fare.

I felt generally crappy from about mile 20-30. I was having some abdominal pain and decided that I have a hernia, and then just focused on that for a good 10 miles along with some butt/left hamstring issues, which bug me normally. I probably should get the abdominal pain checked out, but the pain went away after about mile 30, as good pains often do, so I stopped thinking about it, and enjoyed the Do-Loop. I got a gift of Gus from Bryon upon entering the Do-Loop, so my concerns of bonking were lifted. The Do-Loop kind of sucks, in general, but didn't suck as much as I had remembered it sucking in years past. It's a lot of short steep ups and downs with heavy leaf cover that makes footing a bit tricky, but it's only 3 miles, so ends sooner than later.

Upon exiting, I asked where the next woman was and was told that Justine had entered the Do-Loop 16 minutes back and that Keith was 30 seconds ahead of me after the Do-Loop. That motivated me to pick up the pace a bit to widen the lead and to catch Keith, as I'm never anywhere close to Keith. I passed Keith at the Fountain Head AS (38) on the way back without even realizing it, so then continued to chase him on towards Wolf Run Shoals (40), where I eventually figured out that he was behind me. I felt really strong from the Do Loop (mile 35) until about mile 43. Luckily Greg Loomis caught up with me at about that time, and we pushed it in the last several miles together. I like to run alone, but it was nice to have Greg's company for those last hard miles. He made the last 5 miles go by much more quickly. Greg and I finished together in 7:34.05, good for 8th overall, 1st female and just a couple minutes shy of Anne Lundblad's course record. The warm weather affected many people, but being that I wintered in El Salvador where it was 80-90 degrees and sunny every day, I had a bit of an unfair advantage.

And in other exciting news, the WUS Pink Mafia team of Keith Knipling, Brian Schmidt, Todd Walker, Justine Morrison and I cleaned up in team competition, beating our nearest competitor by a ways. Hence the obnoxious pink offit I'm wearing above....

Bull Run is a good course for me. It's hilly, but run-able, and technical enough to not be boring, but not so technical as to require much rock hopping, although there are a few short rocky sections along the river. The aid stations are top notch, with great VHTRC volunteers/friends, and the party at the finish line is always fun--good food and catching up with friends. My apologies to aid station workers I encountered from Hemlock to FountainHead, as I was a bit grumpy. This was Anstr's first year as RD, and he and his fabulous volunteers pulled off another great BRR. I teared up at some point in the last 5 miles, maybe in pain, but also in thinking about how much I love the VHTRC--what a great group of people! I really missed the club while I was in El Salvador (although I love my ES running group, too).

Regarding BRR, I will definitely be back. In 2007, I felt my win was a bit of a fluke/lucky, and that I'd never be able to approach that effort again. While I ran a good time this year, I didn't feel great throughout, and feel like I could go faster on a good day.

Maybe a lesson learned is that I do better when I don’t think about a race at all. I tend to get nervous about races, and for that reason, don’t love racing. Being that I didn’t plan to race, I wasn't even slightly nervous. I don’t think that this particular tactic will work with MMT next month, as it is hard not to focus on the 100 mile rock-fest that is MMT, or go into it as a 'training run,' but at least in 100 miles there is plenty of time to settle nerves.

Now it's off to a truly slow effort at Promise Land 50K++ this weekend, which I plan to take at a leisurely pace and enjoy the views.

(Photos courtesy of Aaron Scwhartzbard and Quatro Hubbard)