The best laid plans....

I'm trying to focus on the positives and remind myself that things could be a lot worse. I'm reminded by my unlucky PDX friend who crashed his bike last week and had re-constructive hip surgery, that a calf strain is really not that bad. And while it's not the end of the world, it has me frustrated as hell. If, for instance, I'd had re-constructive hip surgery (which I'm obviously glad that I didn't have) it would be blatantly obvious to me that I shouldn't (and can't) run. But I'm having a hard time figuring out how easy I need to take it. After an early re-tweaking, I'm intensely afraid of another tweak and have been following my massage therapist's advice (who knows a thing or two about running and calf injuries from personal experience) and things seem to be feeling better in there.

The bad news is that I've done virtually no real training in 3 weeks since I initially strained my calf.  I ran 5-8 miles 5 days this past week, and have been doing a ton of bikram yoga, with some upper body weights and spinning classes thrown in, so have not been a completely lazy slack.  But, I have not been getting in the 70-90 mile high intensity weeks I would have chosen over the past few weeks. Instead of long runs, I do long workouts.  Example, on Saturday I ran 4 miles to bikram, did 90 minutes of bikram yoga, ran 4 miles to the gym, and lifted upper body. So, not the same as a 3 hour run, but I was active for 3+ hours (and sweated out my body weight in bikram). But, I can feel that my fitness is not in the same place on the runs I've attempted.  And the worst part of the runs is the fear with every step, and those slight tingling sensations that cause panic attacks that the next tweak is near.  How does one run without fear again?  Thinking about and fearing every step really sucks.

For the first two weeks following the initial injury I was going to my sports med/graston guy(s) twice a week.  I really didn't feel like they were getting to the root of the issue in the muscle.  They seemed, generally, not too concerned, and I didn't seem to be making any progress.  So, I switched to my massage therapist, who was a competitive runner back in the day and who happened also to have dealt with the same injury. The sports med guys would work on me for 10 minutes and call it a day, whereas Michael will dig in there and work on it for 45 minutes.  When I first saw him 10 days ago, he told me I was kind of screwed because the tear seems to be where the tendon and muscle meet (whereas the sports med guy told me not to worry because it was in the muscle belly), and that if I wasn't careful it would be a long and frustrating recovery.  I've been a good patient.  I've followed instructions.  Only road running, and no hills this past week.  I had my 5th appointment with him this morning, and it feels (to me) and he confirms that it feels much better, which is a good thing. The washboard feeling is getting worked out, and my running experiments don't seem to be irritating it.

So, things are looking up, but I'm still insanely frustrated.  I'd never been so excited for a series of races, and I had been doing a fair amount of speed work and was getting faster. But that feeling of speed and fitness has diminished to nearly nothing.  Miwok is less than 2 weeks away, and I haven't run over 10 miles in 3 weeks.  I'm still on the fence about Miwok, but I'll wait and see how the next 2 weeks feel.  I won't be prepared to race it if I do run it, and I'll only run it if I feel like it won't further irritate my calf, as I don't want to give up on Comrades and WS.  However, I also don't want to give up on the Montrail Cup, and need to finish Miwok to give me 4 finishes. If I do run Miwok, it'll be more of a "walk the ups and run the flats" type of day and just a quality day of training with a lot of walking thrown in to protect the calf.

Yassine getting loud.

And for someone that lacks confidence, this fear of running is not so much fun.  I'm the queen of excuses, and this fear of re-injury makes it way too easy to make excuses.

And in my newly acquired spare time, I'm feeling a bit lost. My life really does revolve around ultra running--from my friends to how I structure my day.

On a somewhat unrelated note, we had awesome seats for the Blazers game this past weekend, which I got to experience with 3 of my good PDX running buddies, Yassine, Aaron and Todd.  Talk about a lesson in never giving up!  The Blazers were down by 23 in the second half, and 18 starting the 4th quarter and came back to win by 2.  Probably the most amazing comeback I've ever witnessed, and a reminder that anything is possible.  And the comeback was led by Roy, who had double knee surgery and has exceeded any expectations in returning from injury.  The body can do amazing things!

ZG: Listening to myself

A crew car perspective. Dusty roads and glimpses of beauty.  Thanks to Larry Hutton for all of the photos.

Going into Zane Grey I made the decision to run, and then not to run, and then to run, over and over again. And despite straining my calf 2 weeks prior, I had a promising few runs post-injury leading up until Tuesday, when I re-tweaked it and was forced, again, to abort an easy 6-miler and hobble back to the car.  I re-tweaked it while running up a gradual hill on a bit of a muddy patch.  I could jog lamely back to the car, which was an improvement from the first tweaking when I couldn't walk, but awoke Wednesday with it bruised and sore to the touch, which hadn't happened the first time.

At this point, I knew I shouldn't try to run 50 miles on it, but was getting conflicting advice. Coach said to take the rest of the week off and give it a shot.  Doctor said it was a bad idea, but said as long as I went into it willing to drop as soon as I first felt pain, he was OK with it. Other friends told me not to run, as calf injuries aren't something to screw around with. Many told me to be smart and not do anything stupid.  But, I really really wanted to run. It didn't help when we received our race numbers and I was seeded first (lucky #13).  I hate seedings, they imply expectations, but I feared if I actually tried to meet them I would end up with this little ball of calf muscle rolled up behind my knee.  The feeling of a muscle strain is a bit unnerving, especially because it comes unexpectedly, and brings the resultant knowledge that it can happen on any step without any warning.  Running along one minute and doubled over the next.  Not necessarily a stabbing pain, more like if a calf were made up of a hundreds of tightly stretched rubber bands, suddenly several of them are let go at once, and without all of them attached, running becomes painful and brings the fear of the rest of them letting go.

It's really hard to go into a 50 mile race, known as one of the toughest in the country on rocky and uneven terrain with 10,000 feet of climb, knowing that you can't run uphill and shouldn't run on uneven terrain. And in my mind, it wasn't so much a question of whether I would re-injure my calf, but how quickly that would happen--the first climb or the second?  Where would I be when it happened in terms of proximity to an aid station. ZG is remote, and aid stations because of the terrain are as far as 3 hours apart (moving at a racing pace). What if I made it beyond the first 2 aid stations, it felt good, and I decided to go for it, but then had issues on some of the more remote sections?  It took me an hour to hobble 2 miles to Pan Toll 2 weeks ago over smooth trail. If I re-strained it, how long would it take me to hobble out? Was it completely irresponsible to even start? But in the back of my head I hoped that 3 days of complete rest with lots of icing, compression and massage had done wonders, and that I would start the race and not feel anything.

Our cabin in the woods in Pine, AZ.  

Driving up from Phoenix I realized that I haven't spent much time in Arizona.  It's gorgeous and as I drove into Pine, AZ where we had rented a house, I so badly wanted to run. I lounged around the house waiting for the Flagstaffians to arrive, icing, massaging and talking at my leg about our relationship. I went to bed, planning to start the race.  I woke up at 1 a.m. on Saturday and flexed my foot. Decision made--there's no way I'm running, and went back to sleep at peace with my decision.  I wandered out into the kitchen at 3:15 a.m. and told the group that I wasn't running.  They all stared at me blankly, and I sensed disapproval.  I hardly know these people--what do I care?  Watching them get dressed, I longed to be nervous about racing, as much as I normally hate the pre-race hours.  I wasn't nervous, because I knew I couldn't race.  But, for the umpteenth time, I changed my mind and I decided to go through the motions of getting to the starting line, and hoping that maybe the race energy would get my calf so excited that it would be up to the task.

In the end, I started, but it was a half-hearted attempt and resulted in the quickest DNF in history.  I made it about 0.8 miles and as we were gradually heading uphill, felt some calf pain and knew that if I continued on I would be in about the same position I had been on Tuesday within a matter of minutes.  I headed back against the sea of headlamps back to the start, and told the RD I was dropping. Yes, I'm a flake.

Dropping at mile 0.8 meant plenty of time for crewing duties.  Unfortunately for Ian, this was taken at mile 8, and he wasn't smiling.  He didn't smile until his naked pacer appeared at mile 52.

Good eats with Shea and Larry in Pine. I really didn't run enough to enjoy a second breakfast, but I didn't want Shea and Larry to eat alone....

Crewing a race you want to be running kind of sucks. But it was warm and sunny, with a fun crew and a fun group to crew.  Our group had some great performances, while others were disappointed with their days.  It's always interesting to step back and watch things unfold from the other side. I basked in the sun more than I should have, but knowing that I might not see sun again until mid-July, had a hard time moving into the shade. Overall, a fun weekend despite not competing, and a needed reprieve from the rainy gloom that has been the norm in Portland.

Sean ran at least 45 miles with a shattered and dislocated thumb.  Can you say, "Immune to pain?"  Or, "Amy is a pansy?"

Thoughts/Observations:
1. Listen to myself.  No one can make the decision to race except me, and no one else has to deal with the consequences.
2. Patience sucks. Injuries suck. The two are related.
3. I'm fairly flaky.
4. Appreciate every second on the trails, because injury comes when least expected.
5. Ultra runners are tough. Sean Andrish ran with a dislocated thumb* and Diana Finkel ran on an ankle the size of a tree trunk (which both make me question if I'm just not tough enough....). Ian Torrence pushed through despite wanting to drop all day.
6. I will run Zane Grey again.
7. Arizona is gorgeous. I may need to move there, despite the fact that you have to pump your own gas.

Are those sunglasses?  Is that sun? Are we smiling?  Despite being frustrated as hell? 

*Update: Sean's thumb wasn't just dislocated, but fractured into many pieces extending into the joint and required surgery and lots of pins and screws and things to piece it back together.

The cabin crew.  All from Flagstaff menos yo.  The reflection off of my white legs is practically blinding. Can you say "Pacific NW tan?"  

Updates: Schedules, Dreams and Injuries

Last week was an exciting week.  Lake Sonoma was cancelled (major bummer), but that spurred a fun CA training weekend in the Headlands, a search for a new race to run in April (Zane Grey), and I managed to schedule a work trip to Africa that will end 3 days before Comrades, and got permission to enter.  Sweet!

Mt. Tam group minus Devon (taking photo): Nathan, Topher, me, Jason, Mark, Krissy and Kim.

Life was grand....a hard, fast and fun 32 mile run on Saturday up and around Mt. Tam with an awesome group, and we were midway through what was turning into another gorgeous 20 miler on Sunday, when I took a step and was stopped in my tracks. It was actually the second time I had been stopped in my tracks on Sunday. The first came about 6 miles in, when I failed to observe a low tree trunk over the trail.  I hit the tree head on, and was flat on my back. Stars, confusion, pain. But, the stars cleared, and we were on our way again. The tree was probably a sign, but sadly it didn't quite knock me out. We were about 2 miles out of Pan Toll, climbing gently, and I took a step and felt a stab of pain in my right calf. I had noticed some minor tightness maybe a mile before this, but nothing major. And then, all of a sudden, I couldn't move. I tried to walk a step, but couldn't. Argh! Out on a run on some of the prettiest trails in the country, with an amazing group of runners, on a sunny day, with plans for races falling into place too easily, and wham. A really frustrating way to end what was, otherwise, a nearly perfect weekend.

Day 2 Group minus Krissy (taking photo): Nathan, Devon, Topher, Mark, me, Jason and Kim.  Another lovely day in sunny California. 

The group made some phone calls for help, and sent me on my way to Pan Toll where Devon rescued me and took me for a sympathy kombucha.  It took me almost an hour to hobble the 2 miles to Pan Toll, and walkers passed by sympathetically as the tears streamed down my cheeks.

Mark, me and Topher just minutes before disaster....(photo by Krissy).

A day later, I'm optimistic.  I don't want to do anything stupid, but it already feels about 100% better from yesterday, when I couldn't walk without doing a straight leg hobble, and today, I'm walking almost normally.  I'm icing, massaging, medicating, and compressing and hoping that this goes away as quickly as it came on.  Unfortunately, I did feel something "pop", so I'm fairly certain there is some level of a tear in there.  I'm optimistically hoping that a few days of complete rest will work wonders and that Zane Grey will still be a possibility 12 days from now. Please feel free to suggest any miracle cures.

Chuckanut 50K: Time in the woods.

The Chuckanut 50K was held this past Saturday in Bellingham, WA. The field was stacked for both the men and women and neither side disappointed with some stellar results.  Both the men's and women's course records fell, with Geoff Roes and Ellie Greenwood crushing the previous course records.  The course was a bit sloppy up top, but overall not bad; there is enough gravel road/trail on the course that even a muddy year isn't going to be that bad, as the mud sections aren't that long and are restricted to sections of the ridge line.  Other portions drain pretty well, so while the course was slower than normal, the beautiful conditions--bluebird skies and pleasant temps--made for a near perfect day for running.

Start of the Chuckanut 50K. Some major names on that line. Yowzer. And then there's me staring blankly at Glenn (click photo to enlarge). All photos by Glenn Tachiyama.

I was a bit anxious going into Chuckanut, and my stomach has been off for weeks, both of which combined for a fairly miserable day for me, at times. Overall, the end result wasn't terrible--about 10-15 minutes slower than I had hoped for, so not abysmal, but not great.  I was shooting for 4:40, and finished in 5th in 4:52.  I hoped to be top 5, really hoping to crack top 3, but had no illusions of being truly competitive. Some might call that a negative attitude; I like to call it realistic. I'm guessing most people would have predicted that Ellie would run away with it, and she did, with 2nd place a good 20 minutes back. I  had hoped to be more in the mix for spots 2-3, but I really suffered from about mile 6-16, and once I finally got into the groove, the race was over.  I've never run a super fast 50K, and for the first race leading into a series of races for me, it was an OK effort.  Hopefully someday, I'll run a 50K that feels like I've laid it all out there, but it certainly wasn't this one.

No crashes!  A 0 crash day. Is that a good thing or a
bad thing?  Upright = cautious? Upright = Coordination?

My main issues were stomach-related, and this blog post might sound a bit focused on that, but my thoughts during much of the race revolved around when and where to make a pit stop.  I wasn't thinking, "Oh, look at the view," or "I should really focus on powering up this hill," but rather, "If I pass up that big tree, how long until I see another suitably-sized tree?"  Pre-race I was in a revolving line for the bathroom, and would have been happy to stay in that revolving line another 30 minutes, but the race start beckoned.  The first 6 miles felt flat and slightly too fast--kind of like racing a road 15K.  I worried what the transition to the hills would bring, and worried that I was going to be spending valuable time off-trail.

I should have stopped to use the pretty little bathroom at the mile 6 aid station, but didn't.  I then spent the next 10 miles trying to decide whether I needed to stop or not.  I would start feeling like something unpleasant was about to happen, and slow down.  Slowing down made things settle a bit, and the whole process would begin again.  Start to speed up a bit, have pangs of issues, and then slow down.  This section included some long gradual climbing, which I would normally try to run, but I found myself hiking more than I would have liked. The woods finally beckoned loudly and I stopped around mile 16.  The result was that I could actually run again without issue.

Life was definitely better after stopping, although I had to make another stop at mile 25, deciding not to pass by the pretty little bathroom that I had passed by at mile 6.  The last 6 miles are fairly public, and the thought of an emergency stop on a well-used bike path wasn't pretty.  It all worked out for the best, because as I exited the bathroom, Sara Wagner, who had been in front of me and in 5th place passed by me in the aid station. Apparently she had missed the turn off of the gravel road, and had to back-track about a quarter mile.  Seeing her there motivated me to stick close, and I soon passed her and just kept moving.  If there was any redeeming portion of the race, it was the last 6 miles.  I was cruising, relatively speaking, and moved up about 10 places in the final 6 miles.  I felt pretty strong for the first time all day.  If only there'd been a few more miles....

I appear to be running up Chinscraper.
Looks can be deceiving.

So, this report reads as a  summary of a couple of bathroom stops, but seriously, I didn't think about much else during the run. Well, I thought about how insanely unrealistic my goals for future races are and how they need to be reshaped to better match reality, but I've happily gone back to my unrealistic goals post-race.  Not every race is a good one, and 50Ks are not my favorite distance nor what I would call my strength. 5th place in a 50K does not mean that I suck.  I'll be back to run a stronger race on another day, hopefully one of which coincides with my racing schedule.  Hopefully I'll figure out my stomach issues over the coming weeks so as to not have 75% of my racing thoughts focused on tree diameter. Ovearll, an OK day race-wise. I'll call it a building block for things to come.

Chuckanut is a race I'd recommend and one I'll return to, as it has a little something for everyone--fast flats, good climbs and descents, and technical sections that keep you hopping. The start/finish makes for a fun festive atmosphere, and Krissy and crew put on a fun post-race gathering. The beautiful sunny day, which many of us in the PNW hadn't seen since October, and won't see again until July, was an added bonus.  The post-race gathering continued on to a local brewery, and quite possibly the best part of the day was when we happened upon a local foot massage parlor open until 11 p.m. Score! Out of a group of 7, only Aaron and I ventured in, but the foot massage made what had turned out to be a pretty good day even better, and I woke up with absolutely no soreness and ready to jump back into training for the Lake Sonoma 50 miler, which is now just 10 days away.  So, yes, I'd recommend Chuckanut, and if you go, hit the Boundary Bay Brewery afterwards and follow that up with a trip to Golden Foot Massage (207 East Chestnut Street). 

15K PR @ Shamrock Challenge and Other Ramblings....

I'm pretty sure I've never run a 15K before, hence the PR.  A friend asked me publicly on FB if I wanted to run the Shamrock 15K, and being that Sundays are often longer tempo run days for me, I had no good excuse not to run it. In fact it would be the easiest way to get in a tempo run with company--7500 of my closest friends.  And, potentially of greatest influence was the fact that the finishing award was a beer opener, which is something I need more of, so I caved.  I immediately regretted my decision, but I knew that it would be good for me to man up to the challenge of completing a short road race. Another motivating factor for signing up was that I've talked about signing up for some shorter things, but never have the balls to do so (not sure why there are so many male references in this paragraph, but I digress....), so in an attempt to face my fears, registered.

My complete road racing history over the past 15 years: 4 marathons and one 10-miler, which was cancelled mid-race in typical DC-fashion because of a suspicious package alert.  I have completed no distance under a marathon in 15 years, except for the VHTRC women's half marathon, which was my first trail race back in 2006.  That trail race catapulted me into the VHTRC world, and very quickly into ultramarathons, and I haven't raced anything under a 50K since.  The avoidance of short races all goes back to this intense dislike/fear I have for racing, and the shorter the race, the more race-like it seems.  I would opt for a 50-miler over a 15K any day of the week.

On another side note, sine February of this year, I've started using a coach. That has meant a change to my schedule, some minor panic attacks, and an almost complete lack of days off. I decided to try out using a coach for a bit of a shake-up to the schedule, and to up the work load a bit. Also, I thought it might be nice to put the planning aspect into someone else's hands, thus take that stress off of me.  Not that I ever used to really plan my workouts, but my complete lack of planning would often cause pre-race anxiety as to whether I'd trained sufficiently.  I figured if I have a coach and a schedule and follow it, I should be more confident on race day.  Right?  While the other half of me is still wondering if training by feel isn't a better means of staying injury-free, and allowing for sufficient rest to adequately recover and build.  While another side argues that I never really train hard enough, and need to up the intensity if I want to achieve the goals I have for this year. While that other half argues that this will result in a permanent body cast....I digress, again.  So far, I'm sticking to the plan, although I have had a few freak-outs along the way, mostly related to assigned speed work on the track. Tracks bring back memories of dry heaving before high school races from nerves, and are not necessarily happy places.

We've managed to work around my fear and loathing of any distance over 800 meters on a track, so I've been doing more speed work than previously, and more quality days, in general, and only take a day off about every 15 days or so.  Leading into Sunday, I'd had an "easy" week, in that my Thursday workout was only "medium" effort (typically my speed work day), my Wednesday was easy, as opposed to medium, and my Saturday long run was limited to 15 miles, but I'd still run at least 8 miles a day for the previous 14 days, and with Sunday's 15K, I was finishing up a 75 mile week. To high mileage runners, this isn't much, but I've averaged 75 miles/week over the past 6 weeks, which is up a bit from my average, which is typically closer to 65, with highs hitting 80. And a higher percentage of those miles has been at a harder effort.  To sum it up, I've been feeling a bit sluggish overall, although feeling great (and faster) some days. Getting faster is the ultimate goal.

I almost stayed in bed on Sunday, but knew that I'd regret that decision later in the day when I tried to slug out a tempo run alone that I easily could have achieved by 10 a.m. with time for brunch, to boot. Missing brunch is one of the great travesties of ultra running. Brunch is something that is enjoyed late-morning to early afternoon, and for many of us runners, that is the time that we're out running. Don't get me wrong--I love my long runs in the woods. But, I also love brunch--possibly the week's finest meal. So, my motivating factors for dragging myself to a 15K road race were primarily the assurance of time for brunch and a bottle opener.

No major goals for Sunday, except to get to the starting line and endure the misery that is a road race. 9.3 miles is, after all, only 9.3 miles. And while I don't usually feel good until about mile 17, it is a distance that I know I can complete very easily. I wanted to push the pace, and get in a good fast tempo effort, without feeling feeling like I'd really done anything too traumatic.  I do have a race this coming Saturday, for which I'd like to show up ready to put in a respectable showing.  And 2 weeks after that is Lake Sonoma, which is the one I'm really looking forward to.  Again, 50 miles is more my speed.  I fear 15Ks, but 50Ks are pretty short, too. I don't have the leg speed to really hang.

I'd forgotten just how fast road races feel.  The first mile felt like it was an effort to keep pace with the Red Lizard girls I'd kind of latched onto at the start.  We hit the first couple of miles in the mid-6 range, and then started to climb Terwilliger.  The course is a bell shaped curve, with a gradual climb from the start that builds into a steeper climb up Terwilliger, topping off around mile 5 rolling through mile 6, and then downwards to the finish.  I managed to keep it in the low 7s through the steeper part of the climb, and knowing the climb pretty well, was happy to reach the Chart House, after which the worst of the climb is over.  I surprisingly felt really strong on the climb, and passed my Lizard friends and many more. And then it was all up to leg speed on the downhill. I gained ground on the uphill passing a lot of people and not getting passed, but I was neutral (or losing ground) going downhill.  Funny, because I usually consider uphill running to be my weakness and downhill to be my strength.  But the bottom line is that I just don't have a whole lot of leg speed, and I was running downhill with roadies, and not navigating a technical downhill trail. The downhill miles were, at least in part, in the low 6's but I couldn't make up any ground in that section. After a few quick miles downhill, it was over.

Finish time was 1:02:15 (6:41 pace), around 17th overall and 2nd in my age-group.  I was happy with the result, especially knowing that I was running on somewhat tired legs, and the Shamrock course is a tough one.  I run the Terwilliger hill frequently on lunchtime runs, and it's no joke.  It was fun to see a variety of Trail Factor folks out there (kudos to Gary the Vale who ran a super speedy race and reinforced that his offer to do speed work with me is a joke) and fun to be in a very different type of race setting.  In the ultra community I get used to showing up at races where there are just a hundred or so runners, so it was fun to see 30,000+ downtown for the various races (5K, 8K and 15K).

I wore my Montrail Rogue Racers, which are technically a trail shoe, but a lightweight one that performs really well on roads.  I will definitely wear these shoes on either road or trail.  They are a very flexible shoe, which is one of the things I like about them, and make them a great road shoe alternative.

Will I try out another scary short race this year?  Probably so. Will I run a road race as a goal or focus race?  Probably not, but shorter road races are a great way to challenge myself and get in a quality speed workout, while working through my confidence issues around racing.  And, they are finished in time to enjoy brunch.

Post race brunch with running buddies: omelette with bacon and goat cheese, and cheddar cheese grits accompanied by a bloody mary.  Definitely worth it!

Pictures from a typical weekend in Oregon.

Weekends tend to exhaust me, and I deserved to suffer a bit today, after a fun, action-packed weekend exploring Oregon.  Saturday started off with a snowy run up Eagle Creek with a rotating group of friends.  People just kept showing up, and the run got better and better.  Even more so once we escaped snowy Eagle Creek, and discovered what is now my favorite Gorge waterfall, Wahclella Falls. Saturday's run was followed by Sunday's snowshoeing excursion near Sisters, at Upper Three Creeks Sno Park. 10 hours of activity over the weekend should always be topped off by good beer and conversation (we won't get into my theory on the directional flow of rivers here....) at a local brewery, which we accomplished at Three Creeks Brewery. Continue right into the week with a 5:45 a.m. Monday morning run with Ronda in Forest Park, and it makes for a groggy Monday. Here are a few photos from the weekend's outings: 

Tunnel Falls.  Always a favorite.  This time a bit slicker than normal with a new little rockslide (to the right) and some ice (the trail ventures behind the falls).

En route back to the car we ran into Chris, Darla and Maeve.  They helped turn what might have ended up as a 13-miler back at the car, into a 23 miler and the discovery of my new favorite spot in the Gorge.

The canyon leading up to my new favorite falls: Wahclella Falls.  The falls are located one mile off of the 400 Connector Trail, 3 miles west of the Eagle Creek parking lot.  I don't run the 400 much, but the section near Eagle Creek is much nicer than the sections I've run near Multnomah, and worthy of further exploration.....

The picture doesn't do it justice, but this is Wahclella Falls. The canyon leading up to it is an awesome little canyon with great diversity in falls, great light and lots of brilliant greens.  A pleasant surprise on our little out-and-back from Eagle Creek to add on some miles.

The snowshoeing gang.  Me, Sean and Justin.  It took us about 4 1/2 hours to cover a 12 miles.  Ugh.  It only felt like a couple of hours though--fun times!  Another bluebird day snowshoeing near Sisters.

Help!  I'm being attacked by a giant flying hairball. 

Oregon Team Montrail posing with our matching Dion snowshoes.  They rock!  

Check out those shades!  This is what happens when you forget to bring along an appropriate pair, yet are fortunate enough to store a lot of crap in your car. You'd be amazed what you can find in Bridget (my car), including these classy shades.  These will definitely see action in an ultra, soon.  

And the best part of the day---Marionberry pie from Sisters Bakery.  Yum!  (Snowshoeing pictures were taken by Justin, for the most part.)  

Team Montrail 2011

The 2011 Montrail Team was announced this week, and I'm thrilled to be joining the team, as it's an amazing group of people.  Maybe some of Ellie's speed will wear off on me?  I've worn a lot of shoes in the past 4 years, but Montrails have been the ones I have turned to more often than not, and have gotten me through some tough technical races; I'm excited to represent them.  Here's the official press release that announces the team:

Richmond, CA (February 1, 2011) – Montrail, the leader in trail-inspired running and recovery footwear, is thrilled to announce its 2011 trail running team. Comprised of top trail and ultra runners from around North America, the 2011 edition of Team Montrail will have the difficult task of improving upon its successes in 2010.

“At Montrail, we look to align the brand with athletes who are pushing the limits, achieving success and helping to shape the future of trail and ultrarunning,” said Montrail Athlete Manager Jesse Malman.  “For 2011, we’ve compiled a group of individuals who are at the top of their sport, and committed to helping the sport to grow in popularity and in participation.”

In 2010, Montrail athletes had several notable wins and achievements, including:Ultrarunning Magazine’s 2010 Ultrarunner of the Year (Geoff Roes), 2010 Female Ultrarunning Performance of the Year (Ellie Greenwood) and 2010 Male Ultrarunning Performance of the Year (Geoff Roes). Max King had a stellar year winning the Xterra Trail Running World Championship, USATF Trail Half Marathon and Trail Marathon Championship, while Annette Bednosky topped the podium at the USATF 100 Mile Trail Championship. With several other first place finishes, course records and major speed records in 2010, Team Montrail has set a high bar for 2011.

This year, top runners Geoff Roes, Max King, Dakota Jones, Ellie Greenwood and Joelle Vaught will be back along with the majority of the 2010 team, as well as four new additions:

Megan Lund: This Aspen, Colorado native is a 2-time Olympic marathon trials qualifier and 2-time USA Mountain Running team member.  She’s the winner of the 2010 Sierre Zinal Mountain Race in Switzerland.  Megan looks to run many high-profile mountain races in Europe this summer, along with the Pikes Peak Ascent and USATF Trail Half Marathon Championship.

Amy Sproston: Amy lives in Portland, Oregon and is a 2-time Massanutten 100 winner, winner of the 2010 JFK 50 and the 2010 Pine to Palm 100.  Her focus for the first half of 2011 will be Western States 100.

Ryan Burch: Ryan is a native of Colorado and is a force in the mountains.  2010 highlights include wins at the Antelope Island 50, Leadville Marathon and Grand Mesa 100.  This year, look for Ryan to compete near the front at Western States 100 and Leadville 100.

Andy Henshaw: Andy lives in Steilacoom, Washington and at the young age of 25 is just beginning to find his groove.  In 2011, he’ll focus on the 50 mile and 100k distances and will look to qualify for the USA 100k Team.

“This talented team of runners is also a group of active and influential members of the running community,” continued Jesse. “They are a strong group of race directors, coaches, trainers, and running addicts…we couldn’t be more excited about the year ahead for Team Montrail.”

With great excitement and anticipation, here’s your 2011 Montrail Trail Running Team:

Annette Bednosky – Jefferson, NC

Ryan Burch – Ft. Collins, CO

Luis Escobar – Santa Maria, CA

Ellie Greenwood – Banff, AB

Matt Hart – Salt Lake City, UT

Andy Henshaw – Steilacoom, WA

David Horton – Lynchburg, VA

Dakota Jones – Ft. Collins, CO

Max King – Bend, OR

Megan Lund – Basalt, CO

Ryne Melcher – Vancouver, BC

Sean Meissner – Sisters, OR

Luanne Park – Redding, CA

Jill Perry – Manlius, NY

Geoff Roes – Nederland, CO

Gary Robbins – North Vancouver, BC

Erik Skaden – Sacramento, CA

Amy Sproston – Portland, OR

Joelle Vaught – Boise, ID

About Montrail:

Montrail is a premium outdoor brand known for its high performance trail-specific and recovery footwear.  Serving as the trail running authority since 1993, Montrail is a wholly-owned subsidiary of Columbia Sportswear Company based in Richmond, Calif. Montrail distributes its products through specialty outdoor, running and sporting goods retailers throughout the United States and over 30 countries worldwide.  Montrail is committed to delivering innovative performance footwear with outstanding runability for the New Breed of Runner.  To learn more about Montrail, please visit: www.montrail.com.