Where's Waldo 100K

I had a fabulous mini-vacation to Oregon and am having a hard time settling back into life in DC. I REALLy liked Oregon, and since the trip have been fighting the urge to immediately uproot and move out there. Practicalities, like the fact that my job, house, friends, kittens, and life are in DC are things that would need to be dealt with first.

The Where's Waldo course is lovely....smooth pine-needly trails up and down a few mountains amidst lovely NW forest, passing alongside a number of lakes, with great mountain vistas. While the race was lovely, it wasn't the best I've had. It wasn't the worst either. I enjoyed the first 20 miles, for the most part, but then felt a bit dizzy and out of sorts until about mile 53. I enjoyed the last 9 miles downhill, minus the fact that the bottoms of my left foot had blistered horribly and running downhill was excrutiatingly painful. The posterior tibial tendonitis issue I've been dealing with bothered me at first, but went away after about 30 miles, like most nagging pains do. It's back with a vengence, but that's a separate issue.

I bit it twice, both times with gusto. The first time was a downhill full frontal face plant somewhere after mile 20 and before mile 40....my memories of it are obviously not so exact. I remember the fall well, just not which part that section of trail was on. I banged up my knee nicely, and a couple of folks got to enjoy the show. I fell again, after leaving the 'hot' aid station on the road. I guess that would have been after the Rd. 4290 aid station. I managed to fall on the same knee although I did a kind of tuck and roll to the side and managed to take out a couple of baby pine trees in the process. Two weeks after, my kneecap is still feeling a bit bruised and kneeling hurts. Luckily I don't need to spend a lot of time walking around on my hands and knees, so not an issue.

I finished and enjoyed hanging out with my friends at the finish, but quickly got cold and chattery. The medical person spotted me, and I eagerly followed her into the medical building and spent the next hour under blankets that she kept heating for me in the dryer. Another kind lady worked on my blistered feet. I eventually warmed enough to head back out into the cold, but was still a bit gray looking.

A lesson learned in terms of training was that treadmill training is not sufficient. I spent 4 of the 6 weeks prior to Waldo in Afghanistan. While training on a treadmill is better than nothing, it is not ideal. And I couldn't bring myself to run for more than 3 hours on that thing. I really struggled my first few runs back, and my stride felt completely awkward. Just another reason not to spend a lot of time in Afghanistan....

Waldo was the USATF 100K championships, so there were cash prizes for 1-5. I finished 6th in 12:04, about 4 minutes out of 5th. Boo. The field was a tough one, as my time would normally land you up a few spots. Alas, there is always next year. I hope to either run Waldo again, or Cascade Crest. Oregon is calling me back.

The last three long races I've done (MMT, Laurel Highlands, and Waldo), I've been a bit gray and pasty upon finishing, and have had a hard time staying warm. I haven't had that problem so much in the past, but am wondering if it might be tied to being anemic. Before my July trip to Afghanistan I had to get a physical and my blood tests came back showing that I've dipped under the levels where my hemaglobin/hematocrit should be. I've been border-line anemic before--I had some fainting spells back in college, and remember that one finding was border-line anemia (I've never been so good at staying conscious, and fainting is something I do well). Regarding the anemia, it's something I guess I should do a bit more research on, and modify my diet or take iron supplements to adjust. I've done some reading, but there seems to some debate on the best approach. I need to dig a bit deeper as it is an issue I probably shouldn't just ignore. I've started taking my iron pills more religiously

Running Waldo was just a part of the trip; I also took advantage of being in Oregon to connect with some friends from Peace Corps Paraguay that I hadn't seen in ages and to explore Oregon. I had the chance to hang out with Liz in Corvallis and Callie in Bend, who both made the trip to camp and hang out at Waldo all weekend. We had several good terere and mate sessions, and introduced some of the ultra-running community to the joy of yerba mate enjoyed Paraguayan style. in a truly beautiful spot.

Another new treadmill record falls, so does treadmill

Again, desperate times call for desperate measures, so Friday afternoon I headed down into the cave with a liter of water, a cookie and The Hangover. A colleague, Bill, helped me set up the movie projector so I popped in the Hangover, turned the volume up loud enough so that the guards and neighbors could surely hear it from above, and jumped on the treadmill.

The Hangover is 90 minutes, and was funny enough so that when it started over automatically, I just let it play a second time. The first time through I missed some great lines, as I couldn’t make out the words due to the echo in the cave. By the second time, I was able to hear the dialogue through the echo, and any entertainment is better than staring at a blank wall. Occasional fits of laughter would start a fit of coughing, so were ill-advised. I’ve been coughing continuously for 10 days now. I caught a cold on the way over, and the air in Kabul doesn't seem to want to let it heal.

After 100 minutes, I dialed Bill on his cell phone and asked him to deliver me a coke, and some more water, which he was very kind to do. I didn’t feel like heading upstairs, fearing that once I stepped off, I might not step back on. By the time the movie ended a second time, I managed 3 hours and 3 minutes, which was good for just over 20 miles. I wasn’t moving that quickly, 9 minute pace, but it counts for this week’s long run. I've heard of 24 hour efforts on treadmills....why? I'm satisfied to let my 3 hour and 3 minute record stand.

Apparently the treadmill didn’t enjoy my 20 mile run nearly as much as I did. The treadmill, which has been acting funny for the past week, is dying a slow death. There is now a groove running down the middle of the band, which when stepped on, causes the whole thing to jerk. It feels kind of like running across a snow-covered icy road....you never know when you're going to start sliding, which is what the jerking motion feels like--sliding across ice. So, I'm getting in my share of what feels like winter running. I managed 60 miles last week with one off day. Averaging 10 miles a day on a treadmill is not bad considering it's really not that much fun.

So, to replace the soon-to-be broken treadmill we went out shopping today to see what's available. Just in case one didn't already feel inferior as a female in Afghanistan, the treadmills that can be purchased here drive the point home again. Check this out, it's a photo of the control panel on the treadmill.....anyone care to interpret?

New treadmill record

Yesterday, I set a new personal treadmill record for the most boring run in the history of treadmill running. 17 miles in an underground room staring at a blank wall. I tried to set up a DVD on my laptop, but technology failed me, and I was left to stare at the wall and think. I wanted to get in a long run and 17 miles is the lower limit of what I allow myself to call a long run. But it's enough lest I begin bashing my head against that blank wall at which I was staring.

For the most part, I avoid running on treadmills. Why run inside when you can run outside? Unfortunately, I'm spending 5 weeks in Afghanistan for work, so I cannot run outside. There are few places I've traveled to where I feel like I can't run outside, but Kabul is definitely one of them. Things are a little tense over here at the moment, and a foreign woman running down the streets scantily clad, would probably not help matters.



I'm still having ankle issues, as I've been dealing with some posterior tibial tendonitis. I was told to take 2 weeks off running following Laurel Highlands, and I did, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better. One good thing about the treadmill is that running on flat surfaces doesn't seem to bother it, but at the same time it's not necessarily healed, as it still feels stiff if I turn my foot inward. I'm hoping that it will clear up in the next few weeks, as trails are what really seem to irk it, and there's definitely no chance I'll be running on trails until mid-August.

I'm signed up to run Where's Waldo in August, but it's not going to be pretty. The combination of a couple of weeks off, and now a fairly crappy training environment, along with having gotten fairly sick in the last couple of days and in danger of hacking up a lung, are not leaving me confident that I'll be that fit come mid-August. I have considered bailing, but the trip is also tied to seeing some friends from Peace Corps that I haven't seen in ages, and I've never been to Oregon, so don't want to cancel. At least the scenery will be nice, and I will be running freely in the mountains.

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!!