Confession Time, a Review of 2013 and Owning TRT100

Last year was a breakthrough year for me in my progress as an ultrarunner. I had some races where my performances surprised and delighted me. Little did I know where it would lead me in 2014. So I'm fessing up and owning what's next for me. The journey that leads up to my confession is my 2013 running story:  brieflly for each race, but long for this post, and a poor substitute for race reporting which I rarely have the patience to write about. (One of my New Year's Resolutions is to blog more frequently though, so I'm going to get better at writing race reports.)

There was the American River 50 Mile race on April 6; a relatively easy 50 miles that takes runners along the American River bike trail in Sacramento for the first 28 miles until it begins to climb out of the Folsom Lake area and up to the Auburn Overlook Dam on beautiful single track trail. The last 3 miles is a brutal up hill climb out of the American River canyon to the finish. At mile 42 I knew I could beat 11 hours and I did, qualifying me for the Western States 100 mile race. I PR’ed the course by a full hour and felt strong and comfortable at the finish. It was a brilliant running day for me, the day before my birthday!

single track trail next to the American River

The Miwok 100K race was four weeks later in May. The race was shortened at the last minute to 60K due to severely dry weather and a high risk of fire in the hills above San Francisco. The start of the race was delayed 3 hours. I had a very tough day and was thankful that I was only running 60K! It felt like a 50 mile race and my finish was dismal and uncomfortable. I attributed the difficult experience to a lack of adequate recovery from American River and too much mileage between the two races. Lessons learned.

View of the Golden Gate Bridge from the Miwok 60K (100K) trail

June was ushered in with big training weeks of 45 to 70 miles depending on when we did our long runs. The Tahoe Rim Trail training runs on Father’s Day weekend were finished well and the anticipation of a strong finish at the July TRT 50 Mile race was beginning to build.

The Tahoe Rim Trail endurance Races (50K, 50Mile and 100Mile) started on a Saturday morning in late July with comfortable temps before dawn at 7600 feet in the Sierras – an ominous warning of the record highs all the runners would endure that day. Ron, my training partner, and I cruised through the first 13 miles at an alarmingly fast pace, yet we felt comfortable and within our abilities; we knew that the potential for a great race was within our reach that day. Without going into too much detail, Ron and I got separated very early on and I ran most of the race alone. As unexpected as that was, I dug deep into my own mental and emotional strengths and finished strong, once again taking more than an hour off my previous year’s finishing time and winning my age group. Another lesson learned – I can drive my performance with my mental strength and confidence.

Marlette Lake from Marlette Peak on the Tahoe Rim Trail
with Lake Tahoe in the background

At the finish, my exhaustion was profound. As I tried to eat a little chicken noodle soup at the aid station, and relax into the realization that I didn’t have to run anymore and what I had accomplished, I watched the 100 milers coming in and then leaving again to run their second 50 miles. I tried to read their faces – some showed exhaustion, but would light up as friends and supporters tended to their needs and acted as if finishing the first 50 miles of one of the most difficult 100 mile races around was a normal thing for a human being to do. Others sat huddled under blankets trying to get warm and get some food in. Pacers and family whispered worriedly about the conditions of runners – dehydrated, cold, hungry, weak, mentally spent and begging to quit at 50 miles. Some did. Cajoled and coaxed by their pacers, others trudged out of the aid station to embark on the long night ahead with only their thoughts and pacers to keep them motivated.

I remember talking with George Ruiz, the Race Director for the TRTs, while he watched the runners come into the aid station that night with a trained eye. His concern for every runner is evident in every detail of the race. You can feel it when you talk with him and watch him observing and anticipating. His comments to me about finishing 100 miles on this course have stayed with me to this day. But more on that later.

As I recovered at the finish, I called my friend Mary, a Master ChiRunning Instructor, my good friend and mentor. I always call her when I finish an ultra because she gives me such great kudos for finishing and makes me feel like a champion. It’s good to have people like that in your life! She congratulated me on my finish as usual. I told her how hard it was, but how strong I felt over the last miles. I also told her how I had been watching the 100 milers coming in to the aid station and how difficult it must be to realize that they had to go out into the night to start a second 50 mile loop!

And then I made her promise that she would remind me how I felt at this moment so that I would never ever ever consider signing up for the TRT 100. She promised.

August arrived and I was recovering nicely. The Run on the Sly 50K near Placerville, CA, is a fun and hilly trail run with a lot of single track and the usual warm temps. Smoke from the Rim Fire hovered in the trees and the woods were silent - the birds were as unhappy breathing the stuff as we were. Ron and I ran well although I kind of tanked in the last 8 miles or so maybe because I fell twice and the second time scraped myself up pretty good. Ron had a good day and finished a few minutes ahead of me.

18 miles into Run on the Sly 50K, I crashed.

Then it was September, I think, when, on some training run high on the beautiful Tahoe Rim Trail near Marlette Lake, Ron and I were trotting along enjoying the perfection of the running day, when he suddenly said, out of the blue, “I’m going to make a commitment.” 

“Ok, I said”, thinking, this should be interesting. I wonder what he’s going to say.

“I’m going to do the TRT 100 next July,” he said.

“Oh, really?” I said. He went on to say that he wasn’t expecting me to make a decision about it and he would be happy to have me as a pacer again, or not because he knew I’d probably want to do the 50 miler again. I reminded him how I promised myself I would not do the TRT100…. Too too big and scary. I must have gone on about it for a while as we trotted down my favorite part of the TRT, from Snow Valley Peak into Spooner. But I have to admit I was thinking again about it. A little. I was certain that I wouldn’t be racing 100 miles on the TRT. Ron just listened to me jabber away. Or maybe not. His ear buds were in.

October 12 was Ron’s 64^th birthday and we celebrated at the Dick Collins 50 Mile race at Lake Chabot in the southeast Bay area of northern California. With the same elevation gain as the TRT 50 miler of around 9,000 feet, but at a lower elevation, I was pleased with my faster time and strong finish at Dick Collins. Three weeks later we ran the Apple Hill 8.5 mile race near Placerville and I was astonished at the speed in my legs after only 3 weeks of recovery from the Dick Collins 50M.

A much enjoyed beer after finishing the
Dick Collins 50 Mile October 12 2013

November showed up with the anticipation of all the lotteries for ultra races opening up in December. Western States 100 was one of them and I put in my registration knowing that the chances of being pulled were slim, about 7%: some 4,000 entries for less than 300 spots. Relieved when I didn’t get pulled, Ron and I turned to Plan B. If I didn’t get in to WS100, then it would change our training plans with the focus on the TRT races.

And of course, the question rose again, gently from Ron and anxiously and surprisingly from within me – should I sign up for TRT100? Why was I even thinking of considering it?

I struggled with the question. Like a woman who swears she will never get pregnant again because she never wants to experience that pain again, and then forgets about it and decides to have another child, I found that the profound fatigue and exhaustion I had experienced only a few months earlier seemed to have faded from my memory. How could I possibly want to run 100 miles? By running it, I guessed.

I talked with Ron a lot about it. His answers to my persistent questions and expressions of doubt were simple and short – “you know you can do this, you’re ready, you know how to run an ultra.”

And I kept remembering George’s (the TRT RD) comment to me at the aid station that night when I finished my 50 miler. I had asked him how people continue after that first 50. His answer was simple, too. He said something like, “it’s all mental – you have prepared yourself knowing that you will do another 50 and you just do it.”

And I remembered my insistence that Mary promise me that she would talk me out of doing the TRT 100. Oh dear. I didn’t want to talk with her about it. I realized that I didn’t want to get talked out of it!

Two days after the TRT100 miler registration opened in December, I talked with Ron again. What is the one reason why I should do this, I asked him.

Smilin Ron on the TRT

“Because you can. You’re not getting any younger, you never know what will happen next to you and you are ready and able to do this now. Don’t pass up the opportunity that may not happen again.”

That was probably the best reason I’d heard yet. So I registered. And on December 31 Ultrasignup charged my credit card for the registration fee of around $277.

I’m in the TRT100!

While everyone announced their excitement about getting in to TRT on Facebook right before Christmas a few weeks ago, I held back. I’d told a few people, but was reluctant to make it public. I just didn’t feel like I owned my commitment to do the race, yet. I wanted to be fully in because of me not because of something else. I also wanted to feel worthy of such an effort, that I deserved the opportunity and that others would respect my confidence and ambition whether or not they agreed with my decision.

And I hadn’t confessed to one of my best friends, Mary that I was in. I felt badly that I hadn’t included her in my deliberations because I didn’t want her to talk me out of it as I made her promise. A huge loss on my part and something I’ll never ask a good friend to do again. Her input has always been important to me. Silly that I wouldn’t talk with her about it because of my own lack of confidence and commitment; and grateful for Ron’s counsel and friendship without pressure while I journeyed to the decision to finish a 100 mile foot race, I resolved to be joyously and fully in before I told everyone else.

And I did tell Dave, my husband and unconditional supporter. It hardly fazed him. He looked at me like, “Of course you would run 100 miles some day.” Duh.

Yesterday, I finally called Mary and confessed that I had registered for TRT back in December and that I was in. She laughed lightly –who knows, perhaps she even forgot about how I made her promise me to talk me out of it last July. Such a huge commitment on my part, she genuinely congratulated me on my decision and let me know that she knew I could finish it, too.

Me and Mary Lindahl at ChiRunning Instructor Weekend
November 2013

So this morning I awoke to write this story as the final piece to owning my commitment to finishing the TRT100 miler. It’s mine. It comes from my soul, that deep desire to reach for something that seems unreachable. Like leaning from my dantien, my center to increase my running speed effortlessly, my soul is at the finish of the TRT100 celebrating the accomplishment with an “of course” nod to my body that carried it there.

I’ll start on July 19, 2014 at 5 am. My goal is to finish that first 50 miles and get out of that aid station feeling well and confident that I will finish that second 50 the next day without injury, without huge distress and with complete soul satisfaction.

And that’s the end of this story for now. Bring it on 2014!

 "Until you commit your goals to paper, you have intentions that are seeds without soil." - Anonymous

Discovering my Right Big Toe

So it’s been a while since I’ve written for my blog. April 2012 to be exact. But today I discovered my right big toe. And I got inspired to write. It’s been there all the time, of course, my right big toe, but I felt it there in a different way today - fully weighted under my leg taking its share of the load as I ran. It was a significant moment for me because for the first time in my life I felt like I might be able to fix my duck feet. So that excitement was enough for me to write again. My duck feet have dogged me (how’s that for a mixed metaphor!) my entire life, so that’s a good reason to write about it. Linda Barsi and her video blog about writing inspired me too. Check her out here! She’s an aspiring creative writer and the daughter of one of my best friends, Mary Lindahl, a Master ChiRunning Instructor.

But I better back up because my big toe is way ahead of the duck feet and I have to tell the story to connect them. I know it’s complicated, but stay with me here.

As a ChiRunning Instructor and ultrarunner, I’ve been working my form for several years now with the intention to stay injury free and continue to enjoy running even as I age. I’ve made large, significant changes in my running form that have allowed me to run long miles and actually at a fairly decent speed for my age. Enter, the antagonist (how am I doing Linda?): my right foot splay (everted, turned out, duck foot) has been with me since way before the first time it was pointed out to me as a runner in my first Ironman in February 1982. My dad followed me around the course at Kona with an 8 mm camera and went through enough film to document much of my 11 and a half hours out there. It was the first time I saw my duck feet and he was the one to point them out to me. Horrors. I didn’t even look like a runner, let alone an Ironman!

Since those Ironmans, I pretty much accepted the fact that I couldn’t change my duck footed running and left it at that.  I mean, after all I had finished two Ironmans – so why change what wasn’t hurting me. I couldn't have been more wrong. Three knee surgeries later from snow skiing injuries and 20 pounds heavier and I arrived in 2010 feeling old and unable to run more than 3 miles. Then I learned ChiRunning. By improving my feet alignment a bit and relaxing my lower legs to reduce the effect of my everted feet, I was able to fix the knee pain. And I began to run again. Joy!


Right foot eversion in the air with wide arms
My first 50 Mile race October 2011
14 months after learning ChiRunning

I started racing in 2011 and have since completed six 50Ks and the same number of 50 Mile races as well as shorter events where my speed continues to improve. And I’ve remained uninjured despite my noticeable right foot eversion. I’ve just accepted it as something I can’t do much about because of my anatomy and knee surgeries.

Right foot April 2012








Three weeks ago, mid-November, I attended ChiRunning Instructor weekend, along with 62 other instructors from all over the world. We met to learn from each other and work with Danny and Katherine Dreyer, the founders of ChiRunning and ChiWalking. It was an extraordinary weekend and I learned so much! For me, the highlight of the weekend was the work we all did around video analysis – learning more about how to film students and each other; technology, angle analysis, causes of form problems and most importantly, how to fix them.


Lean Angle on right foot Asheville 11-2013

I ran with Danny several times that weekend and he definitely saw my splayed foot and my overstride on hills. He graciously pointed out my form problems to me. About 3 days ago, I had a long conversation with two Master Instructors about how to fix my right foot splay. Mary Lindahl has been a Master since 2006 and David Stretanski has been one for just a couple of months. Both are my friends and brilliant teachers of ChiRunning. There are only 10 Master Instructors out of the over 200 on the planet, so working with David and Mary is like having the best of the best to coach me.

Stride angle Asheville 11-2013

After a beautiful run in the hills near Asheville, NC, we all filmed each other on the road. These are shot through Coach's Eye, a fantastic application that doesn't cost much through the App store.

 

 

 

Right foot splay in air on fully weighted
 left leg (with less splay) and left
arm winging out more than right to
compensate 11-2013
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After talking with David and Mary, I went for a run yesterday for a couple of miles after skiing. I focused on keeping my right foot relaxed and straight forward when landing. Mary had commented that my left arm pops out easily so I should focus on bringing it in next to my side – nix the chicken wing. This would compensate for my right sided weakness/imbalance that was causing the right foot to splay. I wasn’t convinced when we had talked the night before, but when I focused on a relaxed arm swing and keeping my left arm in, it worked! My right foot seemed to come in more readily. I was cautiously optimistic and hopeful.

Then today, I ran 6 miles and focused on my arms staying close to my sides, especially the left one, just as I had done yesterday. As I brought my left arm in and focused on feeling pigeon toed (which makes my feet point straight) I suddenly discovered my right big toe. There it was waiting to be weighted! So, I continued to focus on weighting my right big toe while I landed with my foot straight. I felt strength and stability from my hip to my knee that I rarely feel and probably only by accident, not through intention.

I could see it in the shadow as I ran with the sun behind me. I couldn’t see the shadow of my foot splaying out to the side. Happy dance! Happy runner!

My right big toe. I e-mailed Mary the news that I had discovered my right big toe with the same excitement I had after I first met her when she taught me ChiRunning in August 2010 and I was learning pelvic rotation and relaxation. Mary e-mailed back to me: “MarkCuccuzzella (very fast runner and running physician expert) said ‘I understood Chi Running, but I didn't understand my big toe...’ Wow. I wasn’t alone. Maybe I really can fix my duck feet with one of my focuses being on my big toe.

Ok, here’s the serious part. Correcting my feet, and actually it’s my whole leg alignment, will take much more than just focusing on my running form. Strengthening exercises will continue with focus on hip stabilizers. Yoga and skiing are part of the mix to strengthen my quads and hip extensors. I’m also going to check out Rolfing for some deep tissue realignment work.

Ultimately, this challenge has re-focused me to a new level of excitement about improving my running. I can spend the next few months working exclusively on my running form in time for what could be a breakthrough running season next year. I can get better. I can stay healthy and still run long and fast. I can run until I die.

So, here I am at the end of writing for my blog for the first time in over a year. It feels good to get something out there about my running life. 2013 was kind of a bomb year, good running year, but challenging in other ways. How did I do Linda? Dramatic question answered? And from draft to final. yay! here's to 2014 - it will be a great year!

 

Hey look! they're straight!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recovering from AR50M - Trigger Point therapy

Recovering from the American River 50 Mile Run on April 7 has been a great experience for the most part.  I experienced little fatigue, no exhaustion and very little soreness EXCEPT for the front of my right ankle.  In a nutshell, I began having pain on the top of my foot in front of my ankle at about mile 12 of the run. I managed to deal with the sharp pain for the remaining 38 miles with max doses of Ibuprofen and some serious focusing on ankle lift and relaxation. I’d never had this pain before so really didn’t know what to think except that I had some serious dorsiflexion issues exacerbated by my right foot splay.

Right foot splay as seen from the rear - the foot is relaxed, but does not hang straight down

My experience dealing with this pain for the last two weeks has been an interesting journey for me providing me with some valueable insights...so thought I would write about it. 

I iced the front of my foot for 4 days after the race with little relief. I was seriously jonesing to run, had normal energy and felt great within a few days after the AR50M except for my foot.  I was getting desparate to recover from the pain. I had been talking with Mary Lindahl, ChiRunning Master Instructor and one of my bestest friends, about my recovery and she encouraged me to consider that trigger points may be the problem and not necessarily injury.

Trigger Point Therapy Book

I knew Mary had had a great deal of success with trigger points and she was the one who referred me to the book a while back.  I found the chapter that applied to my pain area and discovered the obvious dorsiflexion muscle to be the source of the problem… Trigger points in the muscle belly of Anterior Tibialis are the number one culprit for referred pain to the front of the ankle.  So I started massaging the belly of the Anterior Tibialis, found an excruciatingly tender point (trigger point by definition) and followed the guidelines to massage it.  As I massaged the area, the referred pain on the front of my foot flared!  It was like an electrical current traveled directly from the muscle belly to my foot.  The Trigger Point Therapy Book described this to be exactly the sensation I would feel if the pain was a result of a trigger point.  In general, trigger points are usually in a muscle above the point of pain.  The key is to find which one radiates to the painful area.  Clearly, I had found it.

Within 24 hours the pain in the front of my foot had lessened significantly.  Enough so that I was able to do a hilly 13 mile training run with little, if any pain only 36 hours after I began massaging the trigger points.  I haven’t iced since.  I have continued to massage the trigger points which I’ve discovered to be in the entire length of the Anterior Tibialis muscle.  I’ve also discovered the same ones on the left side so I’m massaging them, too as preventive maintenance/therapy.



Trigger points in Anterior Tibialis Muscle of right leg (that's trail dirt tan)

As a Registered Nurse and believer in traditional medical cures, the use of trigger point therapy is a big shift to believing in something that could work that is not part of that paradigm.  I'm intrigued with the possibilities for me and for others who might be willing to be open to them.   Wow, ice didn't work, but massaging a muscle above the point of pain did.

I know that we’re supposed to be pain free with ChiRunning, and I'm a ChiRunning Certified Instructor.  What could admitting that I have pain or am possibly injured do to my reputation as a credible Instructor?  But I think it would be disingenuous to say that ChiRunning has solved all my problems for someone who wants to run long miles for many hours per week.  I also think that anatomical dissymmetry can contribute to biomechanical problems that eventually lead to pain and injury despite good technique especially if someone is running long distances every week.  I don't know anyone who is anatomically perfect on one side let alone both sides.  As a result of the “tibial torsion” (thank you David Stretanski, CR Certified Instructor, for identifying the problem and assisting me with some corrective exercises), my body is now showing the effects of dorsiflexion after putting in many miles.

ChiRunning has given me the gift of running.  Learning about Trigger Points is keeping me running while I sort out the anatomical problems and focus on the Chirunning focuses that can keep me injury free.

This pain has a message for me and that is to:

• focus on rotating my pelvis more on the left side so it's equal to the right,
• focus on a full foot landing directly underneath me and my center of mass,
• don't over stride by doing the above,
• relax the lower legs more, and allow ankle lift to happen consistently especially on hills
• focus on movement from my center

I'll be running the Escape from Prison Hill Half Marathon on April 28, in 4 days.  It has about 2500 feet of climb.  Most of the uphills and downhills are barely runnable, so it will be challenging to keep relaxed lower legs.  The following weekend on May 5 is the Lone Pine 50K, another hilly trail race. 

So, I'll keep massaging and focusing.  The process and learning is fascinating.  And I get to run and be grateful for concepts like ChiRunning (for focuses), Trigger Point Therapy (for resolving pain) and western medicine (for ibuprofen). 

On my short trail run today, I once again thanked God that I am able to run. 

American River 50Mile Race Report April 7, 2012

The American River 50 Mile race is one of the oldest ultras around.  The race is the reverse of the Rock ‘N River 50 Mile race that I finished last October.   

AR50M starts at Sacramento State University and ends at the Auburn Overlook Dam.  The first 27 miles are on the paved American River bike trail where you can run on dirt next to the bike path.  The last 24 miles are on beautiful single track that runs along the banks of Folsom Lake and then parallels the American River and its dramatic cliffs.  The run is a gradual climb from start to finish with rolling trails through oak forests typical of the Sierra foothills.  The trails are rocky, are sometimes deep trenches through meadow areas, and rise and fall suddenly making it necessary to use all the hill running technique you know to lessen impact and improve efficiency. The poison oak is green and lush stretching its healthy green vines right into the trail at hip level! 

It was my second race at this distance and a memorable one for sure.  Each ultra has a theme with many sub plots that create a story making the day unforgettable.  Today's theme was about being surprised and delighted with unexpected outcomes that brought tremendous satisfaction above and beyond the accomplisment of finishing a long run. 

The start was 6 am.  It was pleasantly cool and I wore my lycra/cotton blend shorts, a white sport tech ChiRunning t-shirt, arm warmers, light gloves and a Patagonia long sleeved shirt over all that.  My waist pack carried a nutrigrain bar, 22 oz of half strength NUNN solution, my ipod for use later, my phone and a baggie with ibuprofen and S caps. 

Ron, my training partner and good friend, and I began the run towards the back middle third of the pack, passed a lot of people and ran through the start line nearly a minute and a half after the official start time.  It was dark and some people wore headlamps.  The moon was full and low in the sky over the American River.  It was a beautiful morning.  Soon the light of the early morning revealed white steam rising off the river and a big orange sun sat in front of us as we ran down the bike trail.

Our first ten miles didn’t go by well.  Both of us felt achy.  We couldn’t get in a good rhythm.  We were running too slowly and walking too much.  Ron talked about not even being able to finish – he had been worried that he was seriously undertrained compared to the several previous times he had run this race, and now he was feeling badly way too early in the run.  Around 12 miles, I picked up the pace hoping that he would follow and that it would make us feel better.  He didn’t follow and I slowly pulled away.  I didn't even say good-bye.  I paid for that later!

The first few miles on the AR bike trail

I began to feel better and by the 14 mile mark at Sunrise aid station I was in better rhythm through improved focus on my form.  My dad was watching for me on the bridge just past Sunrise, but missed me going through.  Dave and Carol also missed me.  I had hoped to give them my armwarmers and long sleeved shirt and gloves, but instead had to stuff them in my waist pack and tie the shirt around my waist.  No big deal, but I was disappointed not to see my crew.

A few miles later, I saw Dave and Carol in their cars on the road.  They waved and my spirits rose.  I called Carol and asked her to tell Ron I was sorry for leaving him and not saying good bye.  I knew she would understand because earlier she had reminded me to “run my own race.”

Around mile 19, I recognized Kathy Griest, a Master ChiRunning Instructor.  We had never met in person, I knew her from Facebook and being on the ChiRunning DVD and videos, but we hugged each other like we were old friends.  I invited her to meet me at the finish to celebrate.  An accomplished ultrarunner herself, she made the trip up to the Overlook and greeted me at the finish line.  Wow.

Kathy Griest, Master ChiRunning Instructor, at the finish

I moved through the aid station at Negro Bar, mile 22.4, in good shape barely making the cut off time.  I was feeling pretty good except for the nagging ache in the dorsum of my right foot between my ankle bones.  I had noticed it around mile 14 and knew it would probably be an issue for the whole run.  I took some ibuprofen and focused on a relaxed ankle lift.  

Beals Point is 26.53 miles and I arrived there an hour before the cut off point in about 5 hours, 23 minutes.  Walking through the aid station, I grabbed more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, orange slices and bananas.  It was definitely going to be a PB&J day!  I felt low despite seeing my dad, Dave and hearing Carol’s “WAHOO!” when she spotted me trotting in.  I knew I might be alone for the next 24 miles and wasn’t looking forward to that.  Dave walked a half mile with me as we left Beals and then slowly trotted up the trail a bit.  He told me Ron was only a few minutes behind.  I was hopeful that he would catch me.

Leaving Beals Point at 26.5 miles

On the trail at last out of Beals around 27 miles

Granite Bay was the next aid at 31.7 miles and like Beals Point, is another spot along the edge of Folsom Lake.  Nearly there, I spotted Dave on the side of the trail.  He told me that Ron was right behind me.  Suddenly, there he was bounding ahead of me on the trail!  Where did he get that energy?  We were glad to see each other.  He obviously had begun to feel better and had picked up the pace to catch me.  We arrived in Granite Bay in 6 hours, 38 minutes, which was only a few minutes slower than my 50K time 4 weeks ago.  Less than 20 miles to go, Ron and I felt the best we’d felt all day.  We ate heartily – chicken soup, lots of 7-up for me, PB& J sandwhiches and orange slices.  More S caps.  Carol brought us Mango/watermelon popsicles and we relished in their sweet, cold moisture as we walked down the trail out of the Granite Bay aid station!  There were some envious runners around us.

Ron and I running in to Granite Bay around 31 miles

Once finished with our popsicles, we began to run.  Ron was feeling good and our pace felt normal and strong.  We were on dirt and it finally felt like the run we’d been waiting for all day.  In fact, Ron took off at a blistering 10 minute pace powering up hills and cruising easily down hill and on the flats.  The trail was rocky and technical and amazingly neither of us tripped.  We slowed at one point.  He looked back and saw I had hung on despite passing many people and running hills that I probably would have walked had I been alone.  “I’m proud of you”, he said, “you’re doing well.”  I told him he was killing me and promised I’d never ditch him again!  He laughed, but I think he was glad that he’d proven to himself and to me that he was strong.  I was happy to be following him because I trust his pace and know his rhythm.

Buzzard’s Cove is the aid station at 34.6 miles.  The volunteers bring food and fluids in by boat on Folsom.  This time they had ice cream cones.  Wow.  I didn’t feel like ice cream, but orange slices, 7-up, coke and of course, PB&J sandwiches were gobbled   We thanked them and left around 7 hours and 35 minutes.

The next miles were fast.  Ron pushed the pace several times and I hung on, inspired by my body’s ability to focus and respond despite my fatigue, the pain in my ankle and the long hours on my feet.  I was running in the present moment;  the trail and moving over it was my universe.  We joked that he was still making me pay for ditching him!  He couldn't believe how good he felt despite his usual achey knees and back, and I was grateful to manage my ankle pain and keep going.

At Horseshoe Bar I called Mary and gave her an update.  She thanked me for calling surprised that I would use the energy.  But her voice energized me and after grazing heavily on, you guessed it, PB&J sandwhiches, orange slices and more 7-up, filling our bottles and downing more S caps, Ron and I took off.

Running down the trail into Rattlesnake around mile 40

We met Dave at Rattlesnake Bar aid station, 40.94 miles.  Dave would run with us to the finish.  We had to drag Ron out of there.  He loves to eat at the aid stations.  I started walking up the trail and Dave continued to coax Ron out of the buffet.  As he left, he turned back to Carol, who was taking video.  He said, “I love you”, then paused and turned again and said, “Will you marry me?”  She said yes and then about three other women’s voices said, “I will!”

With less than 10 miles to go, our spirits were good and Ron again picked up the pace when a couple wanted to pass us.  The five of us stuck together at a pace that I was pretty sure I couldn’t hold and sure enough after about 20 minutes I asked Ron to slow.  The couple passed us and we continued on at an easier pace.  I swear I'll never ditch him again! 

Last Gasp aid station is a mile or so up the start of THE HILL and only about 2.5 miles from the finish.  Its volunteers are shirtless young male runners with gorgeous bodies.  They would run down the hill towards us, take our bottles and run up the hill and have them filled and ready for us when we arrived.  An enormous source of chi, oh and did I mention they were gorgeous?  Ok, it was a great distraction from this 15% plus hill we just climbed!

We had more climbing ahead of us, not as steep and we started at a fast walk as we left Last Gasp.  For me to keep up with Ron’s long strides I had to ChiWalk at a high cadence or even run.  Ron wanted to go faster and asked me to dig deep and pick it up.  He wanted to pass people in front of us.  I told him ok, but I needed to focus just on my running.  No conversation except to talk about focus.  We picked up the pace.  I ran fast enough that he had to keep focused to keep up with me.  He began to sound like a ChiRunner as he coached me, the Certified Instructor: swing your arms more, chin up, y’chi.  And I chanted, “relax” as I focused on running from my center, rotating my "cotton around the needle".  We zoomed up the hill and passed many people.  Both of us surprised at our speed and power and delighted that we would finish under 12 hours and even break our last 50 mile time of 11:42.

After a steep 50 yard uphill, we turned the corner and there was the finishing chute, loud speakers announcing our arrival.  Our pace picked up to a normal run.  We crossed in 11:40:43.

Finishing!

My dad, Carol, sister and her family were at the finish.  Steve Mackel, another ChiRunning Instructor met me there, too, with Kathy Griest.  I had never met Steve before either, but the three of us hugged and chatted like we were family.  It was so great to see other ChiRunners out there besides me and Ron. 

Cool jackets! And Alaskan Amber!

Ron, me and Dave minutes after finishing

What a memory this day made!  Better yet, the whole weekend ended in a way I least expected.  We all went skiing the next day at Heavenly, proudly wearing our new AR50 finishers' jackets and skiing moguls on the famous Little Dipper.  The Comet Kats were out in force, the sun was bright and the snow perfect!

Skiing Litter Dipper the day after AR50

Ron works the soft moguls on Little Dipper

Dave shows some knee action on the bumps

"Chi Marathon" and tapering for AR50M

I recently listened to Danny Dreyer, Founder of ChiRunning and author of his new book, “Chi Marathon, the Breakthrough Natural Running Program for a Pain-Free Half Marathon and Marathon”, speak at a running store in Asheville, North Carolina last week.  His book, co-authored with his wife Katherine, is a wonderful next step to practicing the ChiRunning form and philosophy.  Since I began studying ChiRunning in July, 2010, I knew that I would need to race in order to fully test it.  With the release of his book, Danny has validated advancing ChiRunning practice through training and racing long distance.

ChiRunning, as many of you know, is more than just learning how to run properly.  It’s about living in those moments during a run where it is more than just putting one foot in front of the other or maximizing fitness.  It’s about moving through space effortlessly and with such ease that your joy and energy is uncontainable and boundless.  I'm sure others have said it more eloquently, but that's my version and I continue to struggle in describing what a huge impact it has had on my mental, spiritual and physical life.

In “Chi Marathon”, Danny and Katherine, write about the basic ChiRunning skills, and then they take it to the next level where the ChiRunning practitioner can refine their skills through training and racing in a half marathon, a full marathon or longer.  Danny writes about the Phases of training, preparation, racing and recovery in ways that have not been described before.  And although many runners, me included, may have preconceived notions of what the following phases mean, the way those phases are described through the eyes of the Master of ChiRunning himself are unique.  By the way, I have heard it said that Danny claims he is not a Master of ChiRunning.  He is a practitioner like we all are.

1.  Phase I:  Vision, Goals and Planning

2.  Phase II:  The Technique Phase

3.  Phase III:  The Conditioning Phase

4.  Phase IV:  The Mastery Phase

5.  Phase V:  Taper Time

6.  Phase VI:  Race Weekend

7.  Phase VII:  Rest and Renewal

I am currently tapering for the American River 50Mile Endurance Run on April 7, my 53^rd birthday, only two days away as of this writing.

So, I thought I would write a bit about my experience of tapering as a way of reviewing  Danny and Katherine’s book.  Maybe I will write about Phase VI and VII in the next weeks.

Danny writes in the first paragraph of this chapter:  “The main Chi focus during the taper phase is Containment – containing your energy, your enthusiasm, your nerves and your desire for a successful outcome.”

(page 142)

Not an easy thing to do when I’m used to running 50 miles a week and now my longest run has been 10 miles in the last two weeks!  I’m so full of energy that I went skiing yesterday holding myself to two hours and long rests between 20 turns on the sweet steepness of the Chutes at Mt Rose.  Even that energy release barely appeased my fit legs.  I called Mary and chattered on for five minutes about how great the snow was and how good it felt.  She laughed and commented about how much energy there was in my voice.

Intensity and Quality of runs during tapering:

Most runners understand that the tapering phase before a race consists of a decrease in mileage, but not a decrease in intensity and quality.  I like how Danny writes about this distinction:  “… energy is like money in the bank. You only have so much, and the wise person spends that money carefully.  During taper time, you are amassing your money in the bank.” (Page 143). 

My runs have been shorter over the last two weeks, but they are at race pace (for 50 Miles that would be about 10:30 or slower for me.)  Although, I admit I’ve run a few 8’s and 9’s while in Asheville with runners 20 years younger than me!  As Danny instructs, the quality of these runs should be about keeping your body and mind sharp.  It is the time to focus and sharpen the ChiRunning focuses and “to allow all the good energy to be stored in your dantien”.  “The only thing to build in this phase is trust.”   I use positive affirmations that improve trust in me, my training and my fitness.  One phrase I began to use during my taper for the Way Too Cool 50K four weeks ago was, “I am confident in my skill, ability and fitness to run and finish the race strong.”  It was amazing how my nerves were calmed as I built my trust in my training.  I’d never thought about it that way:  to trust myself. 

I’m also very focused on pelvic rotation and relaxed ankles.  More specifically, allowing my left hip to rotate back equal to my right hip in order to ensure that I’m not overstriding on my right side.  I’m also very focused on the light in my dantien that my needle rotates around creating a strong connection to my mind and Y’chi. 

Niggles:

In “Chi Marathon”, Danny describes niggles as those little, unexplainable pains that have not been there before.  They kind of nag at you like you hadn’t noticed them ever before.  Like the funny knee pain I had never felt before in my left knee, I knew this was a niggle and it quickly disappeared after a few tenths of a mile running.

“No funny stuff”

or what I call, don’t do anything stupid!  I did ski yesterday and I did ski the Chutes, very steep runs where a fall would result in a 1000 foot slide with the potential to crash into some big rocks.  But I did it anyway and skied it fairly decent using the danger and risk to focus my mind and move from my dantien, my center.

Pre race diet:

Having a steak tonight.  I do love beef.  Should have stuck to something lighter this close to the race, but it will be ok.  Nothing that I don’t know how my body responds to.  Gathering energy. storing money in the bank, containing my enthusiasm to eat everything in sight.

Pre race planning logistics:

Danny calls it “The big list”.  I call it trying-to-decide-what- to-wear-and-put-in-my-fanny-pack-and- travel-bag.  I’m staying at the Quality Inn in Sacramento; driving down Friday with my training partner Ron and his wife, Carol; picking up our race packets at Fleet Feet; then having dinner at the Spaghetti Factory on J Street.  My dad and Dave have all the logistical information for the aid stations and about what time I will arrive at them so they can cheer me on and offer me stuff the stations might not have.

Finally:

“Realize how much you have cultivated the intelligent athlete, knowing that you can rely on the wisdom of your mind and body to fully enjoy your event.” (page 148)

Thanks Danny for the release of your book during this critical phase of my training!  This race will be another "experiment" as Instructor Candidate, Glen said last week in Asheville. 

I'm ready.

Way Too Cool 50K Race Report

What a day for a trail run! Perfect weather with a start in the high 40’s, no wind and perfect trail conditions all of which are unusual for this race.  Typically, The WTC, in Cool, CA, is a wet, muddy, often stormy race in the western foothills of the Sierra where only the most obsessed trail runners flock to test their skill.  It is mostly single track through beautiful California woods with some steep climbs, but some gloriously long rolling trail along the contour lines of deep canyons and sometimes even paralleling the American River.  This year was ideal and for sure, a course record was set at 3:27 or so.  Mere mortals like me were happy with an hour or several behind that!

Typically nervous before any big race, I calmed myself with positive affirmations of confidence and visualized myself running through the finish line.  I had slept very poorly the night before in a bad bed.  I kept dreaming that I had woken up after the start of the race!  Breakfast was minimal since the butterflies in my stomach refused to land.  I chose stretch shorts (lycra/cotton combo) and a long sleeved Patagonia shirt, DryMax socks and New Balance 110s.  A Nathan waist pack with a 20 oz bottle filled with half strength Nunn solution to start, a bag of S caps in case they didn't have any at the aid stations and a couple of NutriGrain bars.  Throughout the day, I filled my bottle with water and supplemented with S Caps (that were at the aid stations) about 1 to 2 per hour.  Temps rose into the 70s.

 Me and the WTC Frog before the start

A few minutes before the start, I positioned myself fairly far back in the pack with the intention to “start slow and taper off”, but my intentions faded quickly as I went out at a 9 minute pace feeling strong and relaxed.  I thought that this could be a great day.  10 minute miles?  No way, I am strong, I am woman!  yeah right.

The first miles were down hill on pavement, and then changed to dirt trail and steady uphill climbs on mostly single track.  I found myself hovering around an 8:30 min/mile pace and still felt fine.  The first 8 miles is a loop that takes you back to the starting line and I found myself going through that 8.1 miles in 1:21.  Wow, a bit fast, but I still felt good.  I even went through an ankle high stream to avoid the line of runners crossing over the rocks.   Minutes later, I hardly noticed that my feet had been wet.

As I headed into the 11 mile aid station, I was still doing sub 9 min miles and was amazed at my speed given the terrain, however I began to feel some twinges in my right calf and hamstring.  My focus intensified on relaxing my lower legs and allowing my pelvis to rotate easily.  I realized that even tho I was quite relaxed I had not done any real speed work, so the energy that was required for each foot fall at this speed and distance was beginning to take its toll.

Sure enough, approaching 13 miles, the pain in my calf intensified.  By mile 14, I was at a full blown hobble.  I wondered if I would have to quit.  How could I possibly do another 17 miles?  I heard Ron’s voice in my head, “this too shall pass.”  Don’t quit, I can’t quit.  Can I get to the finish walking?  My slow pace eased my calf, but uphills were torture and even running the flats was painful.  I could jog easily downhills, but the worst uphills were still ahead.  I pushed the thought of Goat Hill out of my mind for the moment.  Did I have a strain or was this just a cramp that would pass?  All I could do was wait for time to pass and see.

So a few miles went by.  People passed me.  The calf pain backed off from 8 out of 10 to a mere 4 or 5 out of 10.  I could run on the flats.  Uphills still hurt.  By mile 19, I was moving better.  Hydration was good throughout, high energy bars and coke at all the aid stations kept me going.  My stomach will take anything!

Around mile 20, I hooked up with another 5 runners who were averaging a nice 10 to 11 min pace.  The leader, Daniel, was walking in all the right places and running swiftly on the flats and downhills.  Together we ran about 5 miles to the base of Goat Hill, a ¾ mile slug up an extremely steep climb where the 26.3 mile aid station is.   Short strides and big arm swing took me past my group that had pulled me for the last hour.  My calf pain had receded to a tolerable 3 or 4 out of 10 as long as I Chiwalked the uphills and ChiRan relaxed at a slower 10 min pace with a very short stride on the flats and downhills.  Norm Klein was serving soup and celebrating his birthday at the top!  (Norm was the Western States 100 Mile RD for many years.)

I later found out that Dave, my husband, had run back from the start to the top of Goat Hill and missed me by 5 minutes or so!  I had not seen him since the start and didn’t see him again until the finish.  He had underestimated my aid station times – I was running way faster than I told him I would!

The last 5 miles were spent changing leads with a couple of young women who could fly uphill, but I passed them going down.  I heard my phone go off and when I was walking up a hill, checked to see who it was.  It was Mary so I called her back.  She was amazed I called while I was "running" and it was good to hear her laugh as I told her I had about 3 miles to go, I was wiped and I'd call her at the finish!

The last aid station came and went in a blur and I was told there was only 1.4 miles to go.  My Garmin was lying to me!  Happens when there are so many ups and downs on a trail; the Garmin loses a lot of distance.

The last hill was brutally short and steep, only 4 tenths from the finish.  A guy with a bullhorn at the top shouted encouragement.  I looked at my watch and realized, despite my calf pain, I was actually going to make my goal of finishing under 6:30!  I poured my mind into the present and focused on relaxation with every step and an arm swing that kept my pelvis rotating freely around my center.  Only a few more minutes to go!

The last 50 yards, a woman ahead of me slowed to a walk.  I touched her shoulder and said, “Come on girlfriend, let’s finish together!”  She began to run and followed me in across the line.

A woman hugged me for getting her to run to the finish

My dad and Dave were there waiting.  My dad had dried blood all over his pants!  He had fallen in the middle of Highway 49 when Emily (his Golden Lab) kind of got in his way.  He took himself to the ED, got a stitch in his finger, and an x-ray confirmed he broke a rib!  Then he drove himself back to see me finish!

Dad at the finish with me!  Back from the ED, no less!

I did it!  Met my goal of under 6:30 with an official time of 6:27:44

Lessons learned, notes to self:

• Do speed work if the goal is to go fast.
• Skiing may not have been the best way to taper – I had been sick with a cold only 2 weeks ago as well so my last real training was the 26 miles 3 weeks before the race.  If I had not been sick, a 15 miler would have been good in place of some of the skiing.
• Don’t go out faster than you know you should.  Stick to the plan.  In this case, 10 min miles.
• Have your dad take a picture of you before you start so he can remember what to look for as you come through aid stations and approaching the finish.
• Remember that “this too, shall pass.”  Stick with it and remember that the goal is to finish and finish well, not hurt.  The only competition is me.
• S Caps worked well, again. 
• Make sure the bed works for me before I settle in the room for the night before.
• Stretch shorts work to prevent chaffing!!!

A fabulous day despite the lows.  I am so grateful for my friends and family support!  When it gets dark, those are the ones you think about.  It gives me a reason to never quit.