running with ghosts

The following post I actually wrote on the 12th, nearly two weeks ago. I have been intending to get it posted ever since. I have not re-read it since. I am choosing not to because I would edit it in some way and am afraid I'd loose the flavor of that moment in time. Since the 12th of June, I have reached a much more challenging phase in my training. My knees hurt and I struggle to get myself out for a run everyday. (That is not to say there are not days I can not wait to put on my shoes and get out the door.) I was studying the 18 week plan and realized I am going to have to dedicate A LOT of time and energy toward training in August and September. I won't say I'm down on the idea; the magnitude of what training for a marathon means is starting to sink in. I'm starting to find ways to keep myself motivated. This week is a step-back week in mileage, which is helping both the knees and motivation. I've been invited to run the Mt. Misery relay on a team next weekend. It all keeps me going. And let's face it, I feel good about myself after every run, and think I am starting to look better than every despite the fact I keep adding 1-2 lbs every week. I ought to just throw the scale out.

12 June

I made it through week 1! As mentioned before I am following Hal Higdon’s 18 week program, so it is just the start. I’m feeling good about it though. I did make one minor adjustment, however. I did my 8 miler on Saturday, in the early evening rain instead of the mild and beautiful Sunday. My intent was to run the running path so that I had mile markers to pace myself off of. I think I ran the one 4 mile stretch (out and back) that didn’t have a single marker! It was an enjoyable run despite the rain and lack of mile markers because it ran my right though town and the UI campus where I ran regularly for 4 years! Some things have changed, some have not. At moments I felt 19 and invincible again. However, I made sure I took it easy not to burn myself out and have to stop for a break. I turned around at 38 minutes and made it back to the car by 1 hour 11 minutes. I guess I didn’t push it too hard going out, but I’m not entirely convinced I did a full 8 miles at about a 9 minute pace. I thought I would be much slower than that. I was more frustrated by having to run on pavement with my broken down training shoes (on my “to purchase” agenda) than I was at not being able to catch my pace. Oh well, there is a 9 miler in order for this weekend and my wonderfully supportive husband has agreed to drive out the miles on a dirt road for me!

The reason for switching-up Saturday and Sunday’s run was so I could meet a college friend of mine in town for a visit. We ran together throughout our freshman year. It is really the foundation of our friendship. She is another blond named Jen that I have not talked to in years. Noticing any patterns? It was terrific getting her message that she would be in town and wanted a reunion run. We caught-up on life and then headed to brunch with our significant others and some wonderful friends of hers that she was visiting while in the area.

Jen and I did a half-marathon together in April of 1996. I still have the T-shirt. Oh memories. We had to find someone willing to give us a ride to the race (neither of us owned car), about a ½ hour away, at 7 am, and with an inch of fresh snow that morning. Fellow dorm residents already thought we were nuts because we got up early one day on spring break just so we could run to Pullman (about 7 miles?) and back, which made it easier to convince our driver (Dan) that we were serious and not joking.

That reminds me, last night I sat down to dive into reading Marathon and had a riot reading Chapter 4. It is a series of quotes non-runners say to crazy marathoners. One of my favorites was a quote that a runner received from a co-worker about how boring long runs must be, just after explaining how he spent his weekend in a deer stand for 9 hours! It hit home because my husband hunts and I run, and just respect each other for it. One quote reminded me of the time I had a polite man tell me I must be dense in response to my answer when he asked how much I weighed. The more enjoyable part of the whole episode was watching him back his way out of a comment like that!

Yup, so I have gained nearly 5 pounds in the past two weeks. I guess I’m running enough to build and apatite now. It is not all bad, but I rather enjoyed being at my steady 125 lbs for the past several years. I was a steady 137 lbs from about the time I was 17 years old until I fell very ill my senior year of college. I guess I knew that the weight would come back some day. I guess I also knew that it would come back the minute I started “really training” again. (I was running college cross-country and track when I fell ill.) I’m also discovering I should not have gotten rid of all my “running pants.” My current wardrobe consists of several pairs of straight-legged fitted slacks that looked great. This week every time I put them on, however, all I see are bulging quads. I’ve heard of “apple-shaped” and “pear-shaped” people, but now I wonder what I am. I should clarify that this weight gain and larger legs did not happen overnight. Although I have only been formally training for the marathon for a week, I have been preparing for training since February by working out several times a week for at least 35-40 minutes and getting in at least one hour-long run a week since April. Pardon me: I realize that in a very snooty way I just bragged because I have found that I can (and am proud of it) gain muscle mass!

and…we’re back in the game. I’m in Salt Lake City for a couple of days and was determined to get a run in the foothills of the spectacular Wasatchs. The company apartment where I’m staying is near the University of Utah, nestled into the eastern front that hugs Salt Lake City. I wasn’t able to get really clear directions on where exactly go for some off-road running, but when I looked on google maps it looked like there were some trailed worn into the hills just above the university. So I pretty much walked out the front door and just headed east, uphill. I was trying to take it really easy because of my injured heel, especially since I was doing hills which are hard on achilles tendons to start with. Between the hill and the difference in elevation between Chicago and SLC, I was working pretty hard even though I felt like I was moving at a snail’s pace. Anyway, it took me 20 minutes to get up behind the University and wander up through Fort Douglas, but I finally did find my way to a little dirt path cut into the foothills, switching back from side to side up the canyon. I probably should have turned around about the time that I got to the trailhead, considering that I was already 20 minutes out (and have only run 3 miles in the past 12 days), but I had finally found what I had been looking for, and I wasn’t about to turn around now! So I jogged, sometimes mostly hiked/climbed, up this dirt path that wound into the foothills till I had a spectacular view of the whole valley, and then followed the trail along a green fold moving deeper into the hills. Eventually I dropped down the hillside from the path and went back along a dirt access road that followed a little creek. It was SO GREAT to be out running on trails in the hot, dry, western desert air. Reminded me of running in the Eagle foothills when I was in high school. It was pretty warm out but with no humidity it was quite manageable. At one point as I was skidding, slightly out of control, down a steep descent, Callie’s last post came to mind. It occurred to me that no one really knew where I was, so I really ought to be careful. I mean, I really wasn't that far away from civilization or anything, but if I twisted an ankle or got dehydrated, there was no one who would notice I hadn’t returned from my run for at least a half day or so, and no one at all who knew where exactly I’d decided to go.

Anyway, the change of scenery was invigorating, and with proper stretching and attention to ice, my achilles tendon didn’t feel as bad as I thought it might after a five-miler in the hills. On the plane on the way back to Chicago today I read this month’s Runner’s World cover to cover, and between that and my return to running I’m feeling motivated, invigorated, excited again. They say that mental breaks are as important as physical rest on long training periods. This seems to be the case. Take away running from me for two weeks and I’m clamoring for it. Of course, tell me I can’t do/have just about anything and I’ll be wanting it, but that’s just my nature. I’m psyched about the possibility of spending 7 or 10 days in Idaho this summer. I mean to adjust my training schedule around that trip so that I can get as much quality running in during that week as possible – runs in the desert along the Snake River, in the Boise Foothills, and on logging and hiking trails around McCall. Best of all, I’m looking forward to having someone to do at least a few of those runs with!

Oh yikes, I just read that last post. I was asleep while writing it, clearly. Disregard the large number of typos. My favorite is that fact that I used Celsius instead of Fahrenheit for they day's temperature. I'm a chemist and absolutely should not make such a typo!

Trail Run Number One

I actually wrote the following post last night, but didn't get it posted. So here it is day one of week 1 of Hal Hidgon's 18 week training program. I'm excited. Now I have to hold myself to it!
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We all enjoy a little entertainment, so I’d like to share with you how NOT to accomplish a safe and happy Sunday run!

I awoke at about 7:15 am to an ill dog. I picked up the soiled throw rug, threw it outside with the dog and went back to bed. At about 8 am it began to pour rain. I decided that was my sign to sleep in and not get up for my early run. At 9:15 am I rolled out of bed, made a pot of coffee and used-up a small box of Kleenex sneezing. I was tempted to O.D. on allergy medication. My husband held me to his promise and loaded the dog and I up in the truck to head up Moscow Mountain to run trails. I ate ½ a Powerbar and gave the dog a small bite. He likes peanut butter.

After a mere 15 minutes we arrived at the bottom of a trail that my husband remembered four wheeling years ago when Moscow Mountain was open to motorized vehicles. Since being closed off to motorized vehicles, however, many of the wider trains started out with two or three “Kelly Humps,” which are mounds of dirt pushed up just high enough with small trenches on their backsides. The idea is that the average dirt road-worthy vehicle would be high-centered should they try to pursue the trail on the other side. I took my two-way radio and my dog and headed over the first abnormally large Kelly Hump. I scrambled over the next and up the third. The third was topped with a large-girthed tree across it. Once mounted at the top of the tree, a man-made Grand Canyon awaited me on the other side! Geeze these people are serious! I carefully sat down on the log and dangled my feet over hoping there was no sunning snake under the tree’s undercut. I dropped myself onto the hard-packed sandy ground and did a skid-jog down the steep side. Hands as well as feet required to get up the other side. I finally surmounted the all five Kelly Humps and headed up a steep washed-out old sand road. The dog was panting and so was I!

Eight minutes after being dropped off I made I to the make-shift parking lot, with a lot of Sunday riders’ stares. Since I had my 2-way radio, I decided to head down the main road away from home. I mumbled something about “tell the silver 4-door Dodge I’m headed to Potlatch” as I jogged by the cyclers.

Five minutes later I realized that I should not have slept in and believed the weatherman when he forecasted the area’s first HOT day of the year. It was already pushing 90°C at about 11 am. Our hottest day to-date was mid-seventy, three weeks ago.

I heard the truck rumbling up behind me, grabbed the dog by the collar, dodged off the road and climbed into the AC. I stopped my watch at 12 minutes and 54 seconds. I grabbed a sip of water. My husband offered to take me to the next trail, but I volunteered he just drop me off at a gated logging road I knew well (and was well shaded) so I could do a brief out-and-back jog. The 2-way radios were not working: forgot to charge them.

We have a nice little locally published mountain biking trail guide. Easy enough, I’ll follow this well-traveled trail to the gate at Rock Creek Road and meet Duane there. Approximately 2 miles and appears to be shaded. How hard can that be?

Let the adventure begin. I took off without the dog (he does not like heat unless there is water to swim in) and my 2-way radio. At about four minutes, I cut off the logging road and onto the trail. I ran by some pretty creative and intimidating mountain bike obstacles constructed just off the edge of the trail. Then I mounted a neat little hill to a small clearing with ankle-high grass. The trail sort of petered out into several spurs. Eight minutes and thirty seconds since Duane dropped me off the second time. I consulted the map and went left. I went down a hill, over and around some downed trees and past an old cabin I was sure I recognized from one of those off-the-wall nightmares I have occasionally. Then I snaked around, through a small bog where a stream fed a small meadow, up a hill and ended at an old decking spot. Okay, must have taken a wrong turn because I just went through a lot more than the average mountain biker would dare to.

At 24 minutes I turned around and headed back for the meadow where the well-marked trail had ended. At about thirty minutes I was back in the clearing and headed down the other well-used looking trail. Appeared more used. I ran through some waist-high tall grass and realized I did not have an inhaler or epi-pin with me. Thank goodness I did take my Claritin with that cup of coffee. However, Idaho’s blooming Timothy and pollinating pines have both managed to put me in the ER with sever allergies.

The trail was mildly sloped, but situated just right that the sun could beat down on me between the trees. At 40 minutes I was on what looked like a maintained trail, but saw no signs of meeting a road soon. Knowing that I was about 2 miles from the point where Duane had initially dropped me off, I headed back. Why risk getting further into the mountains when your lost?

At one hour and one minute I arrived back at the drop off point. I was a little freaked out about how I must now have panicked Duane. What is he thinking and where could he be waiting or looking for me at?

I had hoped for about 5 miles today. I think I definitely got that in. Not bad for the heat. I walked the ½ mile back to the parking lot, figuring it was best to be at a frequently used rendezvous point should Duane have gone looking for me. It was not long before two cyclist came up the same steep trail I had taken on my first jaunt out. I asked about seeing a silver Dodge out looking for me. Nope. One man offered me his cell phone. Whew, we had signal and I called. No answer, so I left Duane a message stating I was at the parking lot and I’d wait there. The two gentlemen agreed to ride down to where I was suppose to come out to meet Duane and let him know where I was.

An hour later a very furious Duane arrived. He never saw the cyclist or received the cell message. We yelled at each other some coming off the mountain, I think both venting the fear we had just experienced and relief now setting in.

Several hours later Duane and I made trip to Wal-Mart to grab a few necessities we just could not practically get anywhere else in this quaint town. (Yes, there is some irony in that statement.) While there we got distracted at the magazine isle. We like our reading material. I do not have a subscription to Runner’s World, so I thought I’d skim the latest issue. Humm, interesting the longest article in the magazine was about a women who spend three days stranded in Moab after taking a spill on her trail run. Duane was not impressed when I pointed it out! I should have bought that issue, but I did skim the article and how to avoid such mishaps. Communication device. I guess I should not have gone trail running with the 2-way radios were not working. Water: guess I’m gonna learn to run with some of that.

All-in-all I guess I’m lucky this go-round. I had one minor fall and my ankle is sore tonight, but there is no swelling. I was dehydrated to the point of feeling ill when I got home, but no delirium or chills. I thought I was a safe trail runner, but so did Duane when as an experienced dirt bike rider he took a spill off the same road I ran today (the main road does lead to trail that permit motorized vehicles some miles back) and ended up in the hospital for 10 days. Fortunately he crashed at just the right spot to get cell signal, and was conscious just long enough to make a cell call to a friend also on the mountain riding that day. It is for that reason we do own 2-way radios I can run with.

I just got interrupted by a call from an old running pal. I told her about my day’s adventure. She informed me that while mountain biking on Moscow Mountain a few years ago a rider came up missing and in the search she made a 911 call. Apparently there was a time when you could get the 911 answering machine. Gotta love Idaho! The moral of the story: one can never be too prepared. Run safe. Run well.

so i haven't run in...counting up...10 days...and it is driving me crazy! my achilles tendon is still sore, so i can't really tell if it's getting better with rest or if all the time i spend on my feet in general, at work, etc, is keeping it from healing.

the big thing of course is that i'm just afraid of losing all the strength i've built up over the past 5 months - you stop running and zip! it's gone so fast. but my coach swears that i'll be okay with a week or two off - she said she took 2 weeks off with a similar injury a month before her last marathon and it was fine. and i'm biking, and going to aikido, and yoga and generally staying active. but it's not the same. i jogged a couple of steps the other day crossing the street and it was like a long-lost friend, the feeling of rolling smoothly across the soles of my feet. you'd think i'd been bed ridden for weeks or something the way i complain! sheesh.

but the thing that has sustained me, and kept my focus on the goal of the marathon, this week is that i sent out a batch of fundraising letters and am amazed and touched by each person who has sent me money. and it's never who you expect. acquaintences and distant friends that i wasn't even sure i should send the letter to surprised me with their generosity and support. co-workers go out of their way to ask me about running, ask how they can make a donation.

i continue to be simply amazed by the generosity of spirit in my friends and family since i started this project. amazing how decided to run a marathon can result in not just discoveries about myself, but it also bolsters my faith in humanity around me.