Running in Paraguay

MMT recovery has been fun, and painless. After one week, I felt pretty much recovered, except for some toenail issues. Week 2 was spent running, doing a little yoga, windsurfing and hanging on the beach in Aruba. Great times. I was back in DC long enough to unpack and repack and departed for 12 days in Paraguay. Giddy is the only way to describe my first 24 hours back in Paraguay. I checked into my hotel (new and super chuchi--or upscale in paraguay-speak) and made a bee-line for the shopping mall next door, where I knew there to be a delightful chipa stand. I enjoyed a supper of chipa (traditional bread) and cocido (charred yerba tea with milk and sugar) that I'd been dreaming of for weeks. Ahhh...home.

I lived in Paraguay as a Peace Corps volunteer for 3+ years from '99 to '03. I've been back 4 times since then, and this is the first trip that I won't go visit my old PC site. It's a trek to get out there (12 hours on a bus), and I don't have the time or energy to make it this trip. I feel twangs of guilt, but Perla (host mom) and Gondra (community), have to know that I still love them. Here's a picture of my PC counterpart, Alejandro, and his family, hanging out in their yard drinking terere on my last visit.

Work travel has taken me to a lot of interesting places. I've always appreciated being a runner on the road. Unless I add on some vacation days or have the weekend to play tourist, I don't often have time to see much on a work trip besides the hotel and the office. However, morning runs at least give me a chance to explore a bit and see more of a place than I would otherwise. And I love to experience how different places wake up-- especially Paraguay. Even in Asuncion, it's still possible to hear chickens, smell cocido being brewed, and be passed by horse carts on the streets. Of course, there are countries where I choose not to run on the streets and that have forced me to familiarize myself with a treadmill. I'd run almost 20 years before I ever set foot on a treadmill. But the streets of Kabul or downtown Nairobi are not the most comfortable places to run and it's not always best to stick out as an obvious foreigner.

Luckily, I'm not always forced inside. And while I often run around the streets of whatever city I'm in, finding trails to run on--and ones where I feel safe running alone--is rare. However, on some occasions, I've had the opportunity to do some exploring, like my recent trip to Bolivia, where I had the chance to run 'El Choro Trek,' a ~35 mile route, popular with backpackers that starts at 16,000 feet and descends to around 3,000 feet, passing along Incan trails through the altiplano, and down through tropical forests. I'm not usually one to go for long solo runs in places I don't know, and without having much of an idea of how many miles the run is, how long the run might take, and how to get back home afterwards, but some adventures are too inviting to pass up.

And back to the present. I had forgotten just how bad air quality is in Asuncion. I slept in on Monday, so ended up at the gym on Monday night on the treadmill. I figured I could beat morning traffic on Tuesday and got up at 6 to run. Traffic was bad by 6:30, and while I enjoyed a run through some familiar neighborhoods, the intake of diesel fumes was annoying. I do remember that the year I lived in Asuncion and ran outside in the morning, I had a constant nasal drip. I got used to the fumes or can't remember really noticing them, but it couldn't have been healthy. I'm sticking to the gym most days this week--what can I say, I've gotten soft--I used to drink water directly from a cow pond--picture at left was my water source my first year in PC-- and run ihnaling exhaust fumes from decrepit buses. Alas, no longer.

The gyms in Paraguay are definitely a different scene than gyms in the US. I'm the only girl in shorts and maybe the only one sweating. I have enjoyed a couple of good speed workouts, and some hill training. A workout I did on Wednesday, which I started doing when my hand surgeon ordered me to stop running back in March after an MMT training run resulted in hand surgery, was to walk at 15 minute mile pace at a 15% grade. I did this on Wednesday for 30 minutes and my heart rate was between 180-200. Yowzers. It kinda kicked my ass. Hope to work up to an hour at that pace. Otherwise, just boring treadmill running, watching myself run for an hour or so through my reflection in the window in front of me, and passing the time by counting the number of passing cars vs. motorcycle on the street outside (85% cars/trucks, 15% motorcycles).

It's Friday night now, and I'm in bed with a head cold. I guess the combination of MMT, vacation, an all night flight to Paraguay, and chipa overload has done me in. I'm hoping to recover before my flight on Tuesday afternoon, as I have a history of fainting on airplanes when flying when congested. I tend to pass out from sharp pain, and the pressure builds up in my ears until I faint. Tomorrow I hope to get up early and head out to the park near the airport to run. It's not an exciting place to run--paved, flat trail--but the air is a bit clearer out there. Then I plan to spend the day getting pampered--massage, facial and shopping. This trip is turning into a down time for running, but that's not a bad thing, as long runs can wait until I'm back stateside again. While Paraguay is a favorite place of mine, it is not my favorite place to run.

MMT 2008: Rock On!

I was pretty nervous the week leading up to MMT. I wanted to run well, as my only 100 miler to date had been a death march at Bighorn last year. I really wanted to figure out the 100 mile distance. And, in terms of nerves, I’ve always had an issue with racing and nerves. I can still fondly remember dry heaving at the start line before races in high school. Someone had told me earlier in the year that I would basically suck at MMT, because ‘good runners’ never do well there. An interesting comment, and I guess it wasn’t a complete insult as I think I was called a good runner in there somewhere, but pretty laughable when you look at all of the great runners who have run well at MMT over the years.

I realistically thought I could finish around 25 or 26 hours, so that was my goal. I didn’t care about place so much, but figured that if I ran my goal time, I’d be up there. I talked about my time goals at WUS because I think it helps in holding me accountable. I also had a crew and pacer because I figured if people were giving up their weekends to support me it was all the more motivation to suck it up and not fade or drop.

I went out about as hard as I planned. I had my Garmin on, and we were running between 7-8 minute miles on the roads. I ran and chatted with Brennen, who is a teammate on the Wasatch Speedgoat Mountain Racing Team. I run commute and 7:30 is a normal pace, so it felt comfortable and I didn’t feel like I was pushing. I probably should have slowed it down a bit, but there are few parts at MMT that are just easy running, so I figured I should take advantage of those various sections of road miles in the first 25 miles. My plan was to do as much as I could while it was light, and then survive the night. I basically either wanted to run my goal time, or crash and burn trying. I, of course, did not mention this to my crew or pacer.

I'm not going to give a blow by blow, but will just point out some highs and lows.

Highs:

Falling. It’s something I do well. I started running on trails about 2 years ago and can claim 4 broken bones in my left hand during that time. This go round I fell twice. Once was up on Kearns, which is probably the most technical part of the course, and a pain even on fresh legs. The second was a front roll up on Short Mountain. On the Kearns fall I cut open my middle finger on my left hand. Nothing major, but it’s the same finger I broke in March while training on MMT trails, so I had a moment of panic when I first went down. Especially knowing that I need to go back for a check-up with the hand surgeon in the next couple of weeks, and he’s going to ask what the big scab is from. The next fall I landed on my back up on Short Mountain. I’m not sure how I managed that, but no real damage done. I was pretty proud to have only fallen twice. Two falls and no broken bones is a definite high.

Music. I am a changed runner. I have never listened to music in the 20+ years I’ve been running, and get annoyed by people I pass on trail who are plugged in and can’t hear me. Well, I’m converted. I borrowed a friend’s iPod Shuffle and loaded 3 hours of my favorite 2 bands: Scroat Belly and Split Lip Rayfield. Kind of like blue grass or rockabilly on acid. I used the music a good deal during the day, and at some point in the night had to plug in again to try to get back into a faster rhythm. It was like being at a live private show in the woods all day. I used to claim I wanted to ‘hear’ the woods, yadda yadda. No more of that silliness. I did have some ‘quiet’ time as well, and enjoyed the whippoorwills and conversations with my pacer. I might consider loading on more music in the future—3 CDs over several hours is OK if you REALLY like the CDs. In this case, I’m kinda a groupie, and can listen to them for days.

My crew and pacer. I was psyched when Rick Kerby and Jim Daniels asked me a few months ago if I wanted a crew. I had seen them crew for Rick’s brother up at Vermont and knew that they were pros. They were indeed rock stars. And two of my non-running friends came out from DC for aid stations 5-7. That was great, too, as they have a better understanding of what it is I do when I disappear on the weekends. And my pacer rocked, as well. The whole bunch took great care of me, and even though I think I scared them in the beginning, they didn’t freak out too much. I was in the best hands possible.

VHTRC. The home course advantage of MMT was great—both in knowing the course and in knowing so many of the volunteers and other runners. At Bighorn last year I got really lonely and down. Not possible at MMT. Fun times. The VHTRC puts on great events and it was fun to see many VHTRC friends working the aid stations and out on the course during the run.

Potato soup. I had problems wanting to eat much of the day and night, but that potato soup at Edinburg Gap was awesome. It might have saved me.

Lows:

Habron Gap, Aid Station 5. I was running slightly faster than my crew anticipated and I beat them to the aid station. I saw Keith, my pacer, and barked at him as to where everyone was. They had just pulled up, and I was not friendly to any of them. Jim told me I was moving too fast, and I think I just growled at him. I left the aid station, and then felt extreme guilt over the next 9 miles until I saw them again, and expressed my love for all of them.

The finish. I really didn’t have much left after about mile 90, and slogged it in. There were a couple of other low points during the day and night, but the last aid station was probably my lowest point, and then that final climb. It was longer than I expected and my legs were toast. I just couldn’t lift them over rocks.

Ensure. Ew. I've tried soy milk and yogurt on runs, and like it, and gave Ensure a try. I think I'll wait until I'm at least 75 to try it again. Eating in general was not fun, and I avoided it most of the night, which factored in to the slog-fest towards the end.

Toenails. I lost at least 4, and it’s the start of cute shoe season, dammit. No pedicures for me for months. Blisters were pretty bad over the last 20 miles but not bad until then. It was just too wet for too long. It’s 2 days post-MMT and I think I could run today or tomorrow if not for my feet.

Overall, I can't complain. I finished in 26:08.57 in 10th overall. A beautiful day in the Massanuttens and I set out what I had hoped to do, give or take 9 minutes. A huge thanks to Jim, Rick, Keith, Susan, Rina and all of the volunteers and runners who made this such a great day. Massanutten rocks, as does the VHTRC!