RACE RECAP: Gorge Waterfalls 50K

Wyeth Trailhead aka the staring line!

If you want to know what a 50K on limited training and an injury is like, please feel free to read on.

Me and my new friends coming into Aid 1.

I started the race off just as planned: EASY. I made sure to position myself behind a group of people where if the pace felt too easy, then it was perfect. I felt really good with where I was running. I didn’t feel like I was straining and I made sure to check my breathing rate often to make sure I was never going anaerobic on any the hills. A group of four of us found each other around mile 6.5 and all started chatting. Two of us were nursing injuries, one had been sick all week and the other guy said nothing. I am sure he thought we were all psycho for even being out there! But then again, he is an ultra-runner, too. We’re all a little weird. :) We were having a blast keeping the pace lax, and chatting away about races we had run. When we came into the first aid station at mile 9 it was a bit chaotic and I could’t find any of them when I was ready to leave. Also, Coach Dad decided to tell me I was in 10th position. Considering I am not competitive at all (major sarcasm), shit got real. Since I couldn’t find any of my new buds, I set out solo. Thankfully, two of them were not far behind me and we regrouped. One of the guys, named Aaron (cool name, bro!) decided it was time for him to take off and left me and my new friend Summer to run. Her and I were clipping right along. We were passing people, chatting and really having a good time. I informed her that we were top 10 and we made a goal that we would finish this race that way.  She pulled ahead just before we came in to the second aid station and I never saw her again.  Good job opening your big mouth, Erin. (She ended up winning like a total badass!)

Coming into Aid 2. 

At aid station two Coach Dad told me I had moved from 10th to 5th. Shit was really real now! We started a section of the course that was a 2-mile stretch on the road, exposed to sun and my quads had already started pushing me into the pain cave. This was probably the one of the lower mental spots that I hit along the way. I knew a lot of people would take advantage of the flat and try to push their pace. I decided to chill because I knew we had one hell of a climb ahead of us and if my knee and lack of fitness was going to get me to 31 miles, I needed to play it smart. Now, that pain cave I mentioned, it came on QUICK. Every muscle below my hips decided to join in and collectively they shoved me in head first. My hips had really started to tighten up and I had to walk a lot of the steep sections of uphills. On top of that, I had gotten really sick to my stomach after drinking half a bottle of Nuun, taking a Honey Stinger Gel and some salt. I was trying to be proactive but think I may have over done it a little by taking it all at once. After about a mile I started to feel a lot better and was back to rolling along. I was running alone and decided to turn on my Ipod for a little extra motivation. I got some Ginger Ale at the next aid station and began the climb from hell. Literally, it was THE single hardest climb I have ever been on. Not only was it from mile 25-28, but it was STEEP. 1500ft steep to be exact. It was technical, some sections muddy (waterfalls!!) and switchback after switchback. Now, I know some more badass ultra-runners are probably laughing at this. But let me tell you: pain cave+ steep+long+ lack of fitness = a shitty 3 miles. I caught myself a few times whispering under my breath “F**k this!” I was legit angry at myself; and the hill. It seemed to go on forever. I have never been so happy to be at the top of a damn hill! 

You have to see it to believe it.

Then started the decent. Equally as long and equally as steep - I had to pop my ears twice! I think if my quads could talk they would have said “YA, F**K THIS!”. I was hurting bad. I couldn’t think of anything else except the finish line. I was running in 5th and was doing everything I physically could to stay there. I may or may not have even made some loud grunting noises at times. You will never know. At mile 30.5 another girl came dive bombing passed me. SHIT. As she went by I made an attempt to go with her but as soon as we started up another hill my legs protested heavily and won. My body was failing fast. I had gotten sick to my stomach again during the climb and hadn't been able to get down any form of fuel and was barely even tolerating water and Ginger Ale. I knew I was depleting. I was having a hard time lifting my legs high enough to clear the rocks on the trail. Still, I was pushing with whatever my body would give me.  As we rounded the lake I was legitimately worried I was going to have to walk in. I had never felt my legs crash like this. I looked back and saw one guy and another girl not too far back. I told myself there is NO WAY I am getting passed again with less than a quarter mile to go. I “kicked” with whatever my legs would give me. I managed to secure 6th place and proceeded directly to the trash can and threw up. I haven’t thrown up from a race since college. I don’t recommend it. Coach Dad kept asking how my knee was and all I could do was stare at him. I was dizzy and slightly afraid. I couldn't talk, nor did I want to in fear of vomiting all over his face. Not my best moment!

DONE. 

I was finally able to sip on some Coke and eat a few oranges. Our flight home was that evening so I hobbled to the car to get changed. It probably took me about 30 minutes to do so since every time I bent over my hips cramped and every time I tried to walk without my shoes off my feet cramped. It was a good source of entertainment for Coach Dad, and an awful source of pain for me! We didn't have a lot of time to get to a shower so I grabbed a water bottle and some baby wipes and did my best. Later, after we dropped of the rental car, we learned that our flight had been delayed 3 hours. AWESOME. Who doesn't love to sit in their own funk. After dropping Coach Dad off at his house I got home about mid-night. I went straight to the shower and then straight to my bed - which I didn't get out of until about 10:00 am this morning because I was afraid of what might happen when I tried to walk. My hunger finally outweighed my pain and I had to get up. So here I am now eating some toast and telling you my story!

I know a lot of people are judging me for even running while hurt but I don’t care. I don't  mean to be rude, but I have my personal reasons for starting the race. I didn’t decide to still do the race “just to do it.” Sure, being that it was a lottery played a role in my decision but the real reasons I will keep to myself and say that I got out of the race exactly what I went in looking for. I am proud of the way I handled the race. Even though I let myself get angry and frustrated, I never stopped moving. I kept going, I kept pushing and nobody can take my smile away from me. 

“I don’t do shit for applauses. I don’t do shit for fanfare. I do shit for me.” -SEAL, Living with a Seal

Getting a high five from the RD at the finish. 

Can you guess when this photo was taken?! ;)

Forward Motion

I finished off 2015 with surgery on my left wrist to remove hardware from a previous break. At my one week check up my surgeon told me he "recommends" I wait another week before running as to be safe from getting an infection or falling and re-injuring the bone. Naturally, I went running the next day. With Gorges 50k only about 12 weeks away, I couldn't (mentally) afford to wait for another week of no running. I am already behind where I want to be and have to proceed with caution since this pesky Plica Syndrome seems to have grown ever fonder of my knee. I was been able to get in some decent running prior to surgery and today I was finally able to get in my first workout. 

Since it was MLK day I was able to meet up with Coach Dad for some hill repeats along the bike path. Although they weren't at a real hard effort, it felt good to be doing something other than an hour of easy running and I feel like it is a step in the right direction. I need to keep reminding myself that right now any forward motion is progress and that every time I do run - no matter the pace - I am getting more fit, I am getting stronger and I am not sitting on the couch! 

I followed my run today with a strength session at The Ranch Athletics and so far I am feeling really good - other than wanting to take a nap! The holiday allowed me to take a day to focus entirely on training and it seems to be what I needed to get me back on the training wagon. I am looking forward to being back on a regimented training plan and to be able to race again soon!

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." -MLK

It Takes a Village

Since I started running as a kid, it has been my dream to be a professional runner. By no means am I at that level (yet), however I am not done trying to to get there. Running at that level takes a lot of work and a lot of support from those around you: friends, family, coaches, and companies that believe in you. After a very disappointing 2015 I am ready to put the year behind me and start fresh. I am lucky enough to be able to continue working with my current sponsors: Rudy Project Eyewear, The Ranch Athletics and Honey Stinger Nutrition, but I am happy to say that I will be moving forward with both Freeplay Magazine, Nuun Hydration and Zensah joining me in my corner.

Freeplay Magazine is a women's endurance sports magazine that features stories about badass and motivational woman from road racing, trail running, triathlons and anything else woman can excel in. They promote something that most adults these days do not get enough of: FREEPLAY. I myself being an endurance athlete and all together out door lover, I am proud to be part of a team of like-minded women who like to get outside and compete.

We constantly hear how important hydration is to athletes, but hydration is more than just taking in water. You have to replace what you sweat out. That is where Nuun comes in. They make a variety of tablets you add to your water to help keep you hydrated and balanced. I have used Nuun tablets for years between running, riding and even climbing - as many of you know with Seth around, a weekend for me could include all of the afore mentioned activities! I am excited to be able to be part of their team of amazing athletes and to make my water count!

Recovery is just as important is the work you put in. Getting nutrients and blood flow to worked muscles is what repairs your muscles and gets you ready for your next big push. Zensah creates sports level compression socks and sleeves to help promote blood flow to your tissues. This helps you recover fast which = running faster. I am a huge believer in compression and wear them often; like when I am lounging around the house or flying on a plane. I happy to now be able to do that in style!


Any athlete will tell you that any bit of support helps. Whether its moral support or physical support, we appreciate everything that we are given. I feel so lucky to be able to be part of companies who's products I love and who feel that I am worthy to wear their logo. To all of you I say:

THANK YOU!

That's a Lot of Cowbell

This time of year Sacramento always has a happy buzz of runners high. The California International Marathon brings thousands of runners to town while the Western States 100 lottery brings an early Christmas gift to a select few with their shot at the THE ultra of all ultras. This year, I was hoping to be one of the runners towing the line. I was hoping to run my ass off to an OTQ and join a badass group of woman in February down in LA.  Seven years ago today was my first marathon; here in Sacramento, at the CIM. However this year, my rolewas to cheer. With my injury still lingering, I decided it was my job to help those who were healthy make their goal of hitting the infamous standard.

With some of the Oiselle royalty!

Saturday morning I met up with some Oiselle teammates who were in town for a pre-race shake-out run. I hadn't met any of them before so it was awesome to meet some new people and hear their stories. There were six girls who were going to be chasing the standard and even more running down a PR. Meeting them in person made me more excited to go out and cheer them to the finish line. I was struggling with trying to be excited for them while internally fighting my own feelings of anger and sadness. I was truly excited to see them go for it but, at the same time so incredibly envious that I could not be out there to run with them.

Even though I knew months ago that I would not be running, reality did not actually hit me until I saw the elites run by me at mile two. It made not qualifying feel so final; it was really the end to the last four years of chasing. I felt like I was watching them running away with MY dream. MY goal. I fought back tears and the lump in my throat as I tried to keep cheering.  I have always been one to believe that you should encourage those who can do, what you can not. So I let my emotions go and said "If I can not run, I am going to shake the hell out of this cowbell!" I was also standing with Oiselle HQ stud Sarah Lesko and I definitely couldn't let her see me crying! With a cowbell in each hand, I tried to find those I knew and give them an extra ring of encouragement.

Extreme Cowbell-ing!

After making sure everyone runner got a ring of my cowbell, I walked back home to change into some dry clothes and head to the next spot. I met up with Coach Dad and some other runner friends at mile 22, handed out cowbells and we got to work. I was so wrapped up in cheering and dancing along to the high school band, I completely forgot about my sadness and felt good about being there for the runners. I stood there watching runner after runner go by wearing their pain and their determination on their faces. They were four miles from the finish, and you could see in their eyes all they were thinking about was the finish line and they were not stopping until they got there. I think it is physically impossible to watch a marathon and not feel inspired by human resilience. I stayed at the same spot for three hours! I will admit my fingers are a little raw and my throat a little sore but it was all worth it if we were able to give the runners a slight energy boost at a tough spot in the race.

Fueled By Frosting living up to her name!

More COWBELL! 

With a weekend so revolved around the sport I love, it feels almost impossible not to have gotten a little emotional. Running has been a part of my life since I was nine or 10 years old. It's who I am, it's what I do. It has been a bitter sweet weekend that I am glad I can put behind me.  I feel good about my role for the marathon this year and I can say I am walking away with a white hot fire lit under my ass to get back out there and compete.

Your plan isn't "The Plan"

When 2015 started I was feeling more confident and more motivated than ever that this was going to be the year that I qualified for the Olympic Trials. I quickly learned that the plan that you have in mind, isn't always the way things pan out.  I had just run a PR at the Chicago Marathon, and I knew that I was in shape to run faster. I decided that for the spring I wanted to forgo the marathon and run a trail race. I had been pounding the pavement since 2012 trying to get closer and closer to that OT mark (In the mean time, USATF decided to go ahead and lower the mark by 3 minutes for 2016!) and just needed a short mental break from the roads. Coach Dad and I decided on a plan of running the ultra in the spring and then go after the standard in September and/or December.

I went into Way Too Cool 50K in March feeling like I was in great shape. I felt good, I was running strong and was ready to enjoy competing on the trails. Aside from waking up race morning with a freak bout of stomach issues, I was feeling really good in the race and had latched onto a nice pack of speedy ladies and gents. At mile 11 I had to make an emergency stop at the bathroom (thank god there was a port-o-potty there!) and lost touch with the pack. The rest of the race I mostly ran alone, and at mile 22 things took a turn for the worse. I blasted my ankle with an eversion sprain (try to make the outside of your foot touch your ankle bone. Hurts doesn't it?) which brought me immediately to tears. I had hurt it a few weeks prior while running in the Domincan Republic but it hadn't given me too much trouble leading up to race day. This time, however, it was bad. REALLY bad. I had to walk, jog, hobble the last 9 miles (not to mention having to stop and poop multiple times along the way) to the finish where I immediately broke down crying. According to the podiatrist I sprained some ligaments, according to a PT, I bashed my ankle bones together. Either way, the result was that I ended up in a walking boot and had six torturous weeks of no running ahead of me. It took pool time and Seth getting creative at the gym so I wasn't a total raving B from not working out. (Love ya, Seth!)

I knew it was going to be a lot harder now to try and qualify. I still had a good chunk of time to shave off and now had to get back in shape as well. I was ready to try anyway. I started back slowly but by Mid-July I was doing some solid long runs and getting in some fast workouts when my knee decided to go on the fritz. I thought it was just going to be a one or two day fluke where a few days off would resolve it. Here I am 14 weeks later and am only up to running an hour. The diagnosis? Plica Syndrome. (I know, I made that same face too when the orthopedic doc said it.) I had never heard of it and literally thought he was joking. Nope, he wasn't. He pulled up some info on it and it sounded pretty much what I was feeling. The weird thing is that I had run the morning it started hurting but, had no pain and was standing still chatting at the TRT 100 when I first felt it.

ME: Soooo you're saying that I am being diagnosed with a running related injury, but I was standing still??
MD: YEP.
ME: Fantastic. What do I do for it?
MD: Rest for 6-8 weeks.
ME:  Can I leave now?

I got to the elevator and knew right then that my chances at an OT mark were pretty much zero to none. I had to fight back tears all day at work because realizing that the last three years of all my hard work- the early mornings, the sweat, the massages, the tightened nutrition, the naps, the blisters, the pain - felt like it was flushed down the drain. I know I am being dramatic and that I am a better athlete for it, but when it's sole purpose was for one goal it feels defeating. The salt in the wound was that I have been very fortunate to have had very few injuries in my career, and now when I really need to be healthy, I get injured twice in the same year?

NOW, BODY?! YOU WANT TO QUIT ON ME NOW!? WHAT TH F**K!

Ok, venting over. It has been hard accepting the fact that my goal has slipped away. It has been hard keeping myself motivated and it has been hard to watch so many fast friends getting ready to compete at the Trials. Don't get me wrong, I am beyond pumped for all of you who have qualified! I just wish I could be there on the starting line with you.

So tired!

So what's the plan now? I am going to take the rest of the year pretty mellow and not follow a structured training plan. I plan to spend some more time at The Ranch working on my strength and mobility to avoid any more injuries. I have also made a recent purchase on a new mountain bike, so I want to spend some time getting better on two wheels. However, that will be short lived because I also decided that since I am taking some down time, I am going to have surgery in December to have the hardware in my wrist removed. It has been causing me a lot of pain over the last few years and I feel now is as good a time as any to have it removed. Silver lining perhaps?

I will pick myself back up in 2016 and start again. There are more races to run, more fun to be had and more life to live. Plus, 2020 isn't so far away, right!?

Stronger is faster!

A Work in Progress

Since sustaining a knee injury back in July, I have had to find other ways to fill my time. Today we were invited to go mountain bike riding with some friends. I have not been confident on any sort of bike for many years and I am even less confident on a mountain bike. However, Seth bought me a bike a few months back and I said I would try it under the condition that he doesn't take me on any trail that has more rocks than the number of letters in his last name.

Chatting with some of our local runner friends!

We met up with a group out at Granite Bay Beach and hit the trails from there. Another one of the girls in our group was just learning to ride as well so I felt better about them not tricking me into going on any trails where I would be white-knuckling my breaks.  The guys started us on some pretty easy trails to get us used to shifting and to get a feel for the bike. Once we hit the more technical trails, shit started to get real and my fear surfaced. I was having a lot of trouble with my back brake causing my tire to lock-up and slide more than I wanted. It started to make me feel like I didn't have control of my bike and that I was going to kiss rocks or take someone out. My fear made me lock up like I had rigger mortis and I looked like a five year old learning how to ride a bike. I started walking my bike down steeper, rocky areas which I knew I could ride, but was lacking the confidence to do so. I started to get really frustrated for reasons that Seth says are due to my Type-A personality;  I have to do everything perfect even if it's the first time I try it.  Which I have to admit, he is probably right (don't tell him I admit that). I tend to get frustrated really easy when I can't do something. Maybe it has to due with me growing up as a competitor, but I HATE it when I can't do something. I hate it even more when I can't do it because of my own fear. It's not that I am necessarily bad at it, it is that I haven't even given myself a real chance to be good.


Seth and the others had to reassure me that the issues I was dealing with today were issues they all dealt with when they first started riding. I can't let my frustration stop me from trying again. Despite being afraid, I had a lot of fun and so did everybody else. I would hate to miss out on experiences like today because I am too scared.

Eric, me and Monica. Look at the blue sky!

Me and the other newbie, Monica catching up to the group.

"Stop beating yourself up.  You are a work in progress; which means you get there a little at a time, not all at once. " - Unknown 

Pearly Whites

I started blogging to share my life’s ups and downs with the world. Although I haven’t been the most consistent blogger, I try to make all of my posts meaningful and have something that you guys can take away with you. Plus, I am not the world’s best public speaker (ask my college coach and I bet you he will just laugh) so this is a good way for me to pass along my messages. 

Hornet Alumni

I recently received a phone call from my Alma mature asking me if I would come and speak to the Track and Field team about my experiences as a student-athlete.  At first I thought “what do they want me for? I don’t have anything great to share about my college career.” I don’t. I had a decent career, but nothing that anyone would be excited over. So I started to think about what I DID learn from being a college athlete. The first thing I thought: the 5k was definitely NEVER going to be my forte - and I mean NEVER. Not that I don’t enjoy a good 5K (it’s rare) but I will nine times out of 10 have my ass pummeled into the ground. Thank god for the longer distances, right!? Anyway, I reflected on my experiences and the time I got to spend at what has been the closest to a professional athlete that I have ever been. I thought about the lifelong friends I made, the experiences I had and the memories that can never be taken away. I also thought about the struggles I had. How I almost quit my junior year. How discouraged I got and how unhappy it all made me. I talked about this in an earlier post so I won’t bore you with the details again (you can check it out HERE if you really want to know! ☺ ) but I realized that the one piece of advice I wanted to get across to these younger athletes was to have as much fun as possible.  What I wouldn’t give to have that team atmosphere back in my life. Having been a collegiate athlete and now trying to continue my training as an “adult”, I realize how good I had it. My whole world revolved around running! I resented it a little back then because I felt like I was missing out on something when I would see my non-athlete friends going out and having a good time while I went to bed early for morning practice or eating chicken and broccoli instead of pizza and beer. Now, I would choose bed over doing almost anything and realized just how convenient that plain piece of chicken can be after a 5:00 am run and eight hours of work! 

I believe that every single person should truly enjoy what they are doing and if you aren’t happy, CHANGE SOMETHING. Make yourself happy. I don’t mean that to sound as if I am suggesting they quit the team, I am merely saying that life is too short to be miserable. I know it sounds cliché but if there is one thing my sister’s death taught me, it’s to do what you WANT to do and to do what makes you HAPPY- while you still have time above ground. Of course I mean that within good reason - don’t go murdering your ex’s new girlfriend just because it will make you happy! ;)

If you’re not smiling every day, you’re doing something wrong.

2015: My Journey, My Goals

Last October I ran my final marathon of 2014 in Chicago with a PR of 2:50:56. WOO HOO! A PR, YAY! That's at least how you would think I would have reacted. Don't get me wrong, I was excited to have run a PR - especially after that train wreck of a marathon in Boston. (If you missed that story CLICK HERE.) I should have been walking out of the Athlete Village with a huge smile on my face and my head held high - I wasn't. I wasn't crying or dragging my feet either but I wasn't completely happy, and to be honest I was a little bummed out. I went into the race really feeling that I had a 2:48 in me. I was 100% confident that  a sub-2:50 was what I was going to run. But I didn't; I can't blame it on my training or my race plan or on anything else. It just simply wasn't in the cards that day and the fact that  it is something as simple as that made it so hard to be excited about what I DID accomplish - I still ran a 2:50 for goodness sakes!

I took the rest of October easy, only running every other day or so. At the end of the month when it was time to meet with Coach Dad to plan out 2015, I walked out of there anxious and not excited. I did a lot of thinking and decided that I needed a break. A break from the road and the grind and the endless feeling of fatigue. I needed to do something for me. For two years I sat quietly obsessing over the trail scene. Constantly checking the race feeds and entrant lists to all the big races. I envied anyone I saw running and racing ultras and I longed to be part of it. Any chance I had to do my long run on the trails, I took advantage of it. I was longing for the dirt, the trees, to be on a single track hearing nothing but the sound of my feet and the air in my chest.  After some heavy thinking, I decided it was time that I followed my heart and I run an ultra. The trails are where I feel happy. Where I catch myself smiling while running - not because somebody told a good joke, but because I am exactly where I want to be.

It took me three separate phone calls to Coach Dad to finally get out that I wanted to run an ultra instead of a marathon in the spring. We both have been so single tracked (pun intended!) on me qualifying for the Olympic Trials that I was afraid he was going to see it as me abandoning my goal and be disappointed. But he wasn't, and it didn't take any convincing at all for him to be 100% on board with it. He wants me to feel enjoyment in running just as much as I want to. It  is something that is totally refreshing and I am lucky to have a coach that wants to help me achieve me goals, no matter what they are.

So consider this my announcement that I will be running the Way Too Cool 50K this March! I know I made the right decision because I feel happier, healthier and stronger than I have in the last year. I have already received some amazing support and encouragement from my family and my friends and it makes me even more excited to make all of you proud! I really do have the best support system a runner girl could ask for.

THANK YOU!

I have an amazing 2015 ahead of me. How amazing? In a little over a month I will be spending a week in the Dominican Republic only to come home and race my heart out right in my own backyard and then do some awesome trail running and beach cruising on a trip to Hawaii in May. I haven't given up on my quest to qualify for the OTs and I will be racing my guts out in Berlin this September! Yes, I am aware that it will require me to run a 7 minute PR -but go big or go home right!? But home only after we go to the country and then to Paris! :) I am beyond excited to have the chance to do some traveling this year, but I am more excited about the people I get to travel with.

It truly is a Runderful Life!

DA Race

It has been a week since the marathon and I have had time to settle into post marathon life - which I must say is always a little weird. I suddenly have this free time, and energy, that I don't know what to do with! So now, I will try to expel some of that energy on a blog post about my race! ;)

The days leading up to, and the morning of, the race were all pretty normal and mellow so I will fast-forward to about mile 10. I had started the race right about the pace I wanted and had settled in with a nice pack. We were clipping along just a few seconds slower than goal pace. I was fine with it being a little slow since we were running into a decent head wind and the second half was supposedly going to be a tail wind so I could make up time there. I went through the half at 1:25:28. A little slow, but still not in the danger zone just yet. At mile 16 a few of the girls and I threw down a 6:17 mile. OOPS! We all looked at each other and simultaneously said "Too soon!" Most people (normally that would include me) panic a little having run too fast, too early. I took it as a good sign. Since I started conservative and at this stage in the race I could run a 6:17 mile, I clearly had something left in the tank and that was encouraging and motivating. We backed the pace down slightly, so we thought. We went through mile 17 at 6:35. SERIOUSLY!? I honestly thought we were right around 6:25! By mile 18 I had to make a choice. Go now or for sure miss your goal. So I took a chance and I went.

One of the other girls in the group had  made a move, too, so I used her to pull me. The next couple of miles were 6:19-6:25 ish. Then, around mile 22.5 I went through an aid station and came out with lead for legs. CRAP! I still had 3.5 miles and ZERO room for error. I went through mile 23 & 24 in 6:41 and 6:44. The easy thing to do would have been to tell myself that I fell off pace, that I had no chance of running my goal and to just make it through the last 2.2 miles. But when I hit mile 24, I got mad. I got angry and I got moving.

Earlier in the race I had seen a sign that said 'Do Something Epic,' For whatever reason, that popped in my head and I said "Erin, GET THE F**K MOVING!" I had 2 miles to go. 2 miles, piece of cake! (HA! Right.) I pushed and I pushed and kept telling myself to catch the next guy, and the next guy, and then that ponytail, and then the next guy....
As I brought my pace back down, the crowd was telling me to keep going and keep moving and push harder. The crowd was so loud I could hardly hear my own thoughts - which, let's be honest, the last few miles you don't really want to hear them anyway!

Finally, I turned the corner to head up "Mt, Roosevelt" and I knew I was only a minute and a half from being done. I had stopped checking my watch because time and pace didn't matter anymore; what mattered is that I wasn't giving up. I finished in 2:50:56 - my second half being exactly the same as the first, 1:25:28! I took another 1:40 off my time and I am that much closer to the OT Standard.

After I finished I ripped off my shoe and sock because I had such a bad blister on my left foot the last few miles I couldn't stand to keep my shoe on anymore. I found a friend who was working the finish line and immediately asked how Allison had done. For those of you who don't know, Allison is a teammate I have been training with and who ran a 2:39! When I heard her time I swear I could have screamed as if I had run that fast myself! She was shooting for an OT standard and she got that and then some!

The marathon is full of trials and tribulations and no matter how fast you run it, you are constantly tested. What makes the marathon so great is that the people who finish have overcome those tests. They pushed, they struggled, they hurt, but they finished. They may not have hit their goals, but they didn't use that as a reason to quit.

Going into Chicago I was feeling my strongest and my healthiest. I had excellent coaching from Coach Dad (who ran a 2:59:16 at the age of 51!) and killer strength workouts from The Ranch Athletics. Thanks for making my PR possible!

As Always It's a Runderful Life!

HOOAH!

Recently, my brother and sister were both in town and we decided it would be a good opportunity to do family photos. We all could feel a bit of hurt as we took the photos knowing that we were missing someone. I can't speak for them, but there were definitely a few moments where I was holding back tears thinking of Megan. In one of the photos my mom wore a shirt that said "Some people never meet their heroes, I raised mine." She stood their wearing it with pride as both my brother and sister stood beside her. You see, they are both currently serving in the United States Army.  My brother is a Combat Medic in the 82nd Airborne and my sister is a Patriot Missile Operator in the 69th ADA. I am so incredibly proud of them. Every time I talk to them they have graduated from another school, or collected rank or received an award or become a Team Leader etc, etc. To sum it up, they are pretty much badass!

My mom & dad may have gotten to raise them, but I got to grow up with them. I got to share secrets with them and get in trouble with them and fight with them and grow with them. Like all siblings, there was a time I am sure, that we could not stand to be around each other but we have now out grown that. Losing one of your own makes you forget all the stupid stuff you don't like about your siblings and just appreciate the fact that they ARE your sibling. That they are somebody you have known for your entire life and whether you like it or not, they are part of you. (I just happen to really like mine!)

My brother doesn't like the icky emotional stuff so I always have to fight back my tears when I hug him good bye. When my sister left, I couldn't help but cry. Not only because I was going to miss her, but because she will be deploying over seas for a year tour in Kuwait. Now, I know Kuwait is better than her being sent into Iraq or Afghanistan but she will be only 20 miles from the Iraq border and with those guys, you never really know what they'll do. I wont get to text her funny pictures or call her whenever I want to, but will take what I can get in an email and an occasional Skype session. I know she will most likely return home safe next summer but I can't help but worry a little bit. I have already lost one sister and have no room in my heart to lose another - or my brother for that matter!!

I am writing this just to say how proud I am of both of them. To let them know that I support them and to tell them that I miss them every day.

My beautiful Momma and her Soldiers.

Side by side or miles apart, siblings will always be connected by the heart. 

As always, it's still a Runderful Life!

You Don't Know the Struggle Until...

...Your legs give out on you at mile seven of a marathon. Just kidding, EVERY distance runner knows the struggle because it happens in every distance! It's that point at which you're running great and on pace and then BOOM! Your legs say " Fuck you, we're not doing this today!" and then you are left to finish the rest of the race in pain and agony and repeatedly asking yourself when the hell it will be over.

That pretty much sums up my experience at the Boston Marathon this year. So that's it, thanks for reading!
Just kidding...again.

Well, the day really started off bad when our Bostonian driver didn't take the right exit, leaving us to tell HIM where to go and 2 hours later jumping off the bus and going directly to our corrals - but that's another story. So the National Anthem plays, they introduce all the Elite men and the gun goes off! I start out slow and go through mile one in 6:50. Perfect! The first few miles are downhill so you really have to start this race controlled. I slowly dropped my pace and by mile three or four was right on my PR pace of 6:35. Sounds like the start to a perfect race, and it probably would have been, had I not been injured the last month of training. So let's go back and give you a little history:

 A month out of race day I found myself not being able to run, or even walk, without pain. I couldn't straighten my leg completely without hurting and it was even waking me up at night. I made an appointment to see someone about my leg and decided to take time off until then - 5 days. Ugh. After seeing him I tried to run and made it only one mile. *Insert panic face here* Ok, time to rethink this.  So Coach Dad and I came up with a cross training plan, and I scheduled more appointments to have my leg worked on. I got sick the next day and had to take more time completely off. No big deal, my body needs rest. (That's what I kept telling myself to keep from really freaking out.) Finally, I was able to run after a week and half off. I could get through five miles - still with pain. I did easy runs every other day the last few weeks of training, never getting over 12 miles, and did intervals on the rower to try and keep my aerobic capacity. By race day my leg was good enough that I felt a little more confident that it wouldn't shut me down late in the race.

So back to the race. I wasn't feeling great, but I was holding my pace.I was talking to myself, staying positive and telling myself to just keep clicking the miles off. "You've got this." By the time I hit mile seven, I knew things were getting bad. The self talk turned into  "You'll be OK. You'll be OK. YOU. WILL. BE. OK." I wasn't OK. It was only mile seven and I felt like I had run 18. Still, I was thinking positive thoughts and trying to stay motivated. However, by mile 11 reality had to be accepted that today just wasn't going to happen. It was a hard pill to swallow. I couldn't believe that at mile 11 I felt like this. I mean, I could believe it. I had hardly run the last four weeks.  How the fuck was I going to go through 15 more miles and my legs deteriorating this fast?!? I decided that I had to play with this race and use the crowd and enjoy the experience. If you haven't run Boston, I will tell you that the crowds there are UNBELIEVABLY awesome. Wicked awesome, to be exact! I even debated kissing a Wellesley College girl in the infamous Scream Tunnel. ;) ( I didn't though.) If you don't know what that is CLICK HERE !

 Watching mobs of people going by me - a lot of them women - was hard on my competitive spirit. I kept having to tell myself to let my pride go. By 15 miles I didn't have a choice in the matter. My legs were so bad that I didn't even know if I could make it to the finish line. Now, every runner thinks this at some point in their race because your legs hurt so much and you just want it to stop, however, you know you will finish. This time, I legitimately didn't know if I was going to be able to finish; if my legs would hold out that long. I kept telling myself to just take it one mile at a time, that I would be fine and that I would make it. But even at miles 20 and 23, I still didn't know if it was going to be possible. I hurt SO FUCKING BAD. Want to know just how bad I hurt? I WALKED. Yes, I said it: I WALKED. Never in a race have I ever had to stop and walk but my quads were seizing so bad I could hardly pick up my feet and was tripping over cups in the aid stations. I was desperate. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not saying anything bad against people who have to walk. I am simply saying that I have never done it before and for me, and for those who know me, you know it means things are BAD. Not only did I walk, I had to do it more than once. I walked through a couple aid stations and a few times in between them. I never stopped for more than 10-20 seconds but to walk in the Boston Marathon, in front of thousands of screaming people, makes it hard not to feel a little embarrassed by it.

When I finally saw the 1K mark (a little over half a mile for the metric illiterate.) I couldn't have been happier. Still, all I could think about was just being done. For the pain to stop. To walk away to my hotel with my tail between my legs. When I finally crossed the line, I had a moment where I felt a little proud of myself. Proud that I pushed through. Proud that even though I wanted to quit - and it was tempting with Med Tents EVERY SINGLE MILE - I didn't. I finished. It may have been 22 minutes slower than my PR ( Now do you see how fucking bad I was!?) but I finished. I didn't quit. I didn't stop moving. I may have walked, but I didn't stop moving.

There is a saying: Never quit in the dark. But I didn't care if it was light or dark, I could not quit. Especially this year. That was what the 2014 Boston Marathon was all about. BOSTON STRONG. Seeing those signs all along the course wouldn't allow me to quit. The fans wouldn't allow me to quit. So I couldn't allow me to quit. It doesn't mean that I didn't go back to my hotel room and proceeded to call my mom and cry my eyes out. (YES! I still call my mommy when I am sad. SO WHAT!?)

I am disappointed to say the least in how the race went. Looking back it would have been smarter to have started back with my Dad and experience the marathon with him. However, I had to try. I am a competitor and I wanted to compete. It didn't work out and that is OK. There are more marathons to run and more chances to improve. I still had an amazing time with my dad and all the friends that were there. It was an incredible atmosphere and there was so much emotion and determination and fight in every single person there - spectators and runners. The 2014 Boston Marathon is an experience that just can not be described and I don't think anybody that was there, will ever forget it.


It's still a Runderful Life.

PROOF I FINISHED! ;)

The Power of Zzzz

It has been a while -OK, a LONG while - since I last posted. I get busy with work, life and training and tend to "forget" about keeping up with this thing. I promise I'll try to be better at it because I know you are all just DYING to know every detail about my life. ;) Sarcasm aside, I have had a lot going on since we last spoke.

Qualifying for the Olympic Trials is something that has somewhat taken over my life. I am not saying this is a bad thing, it has just stirred a lot of change in my training and every day life. While training for CIM I tried a new training program, added weight training, tried a new diet and was forced  to look at a lot of other recurrent issues in the way I recover. On top of all that, I started a new job that really made for a rocky ride -since I decided to still keep my old job, too. I wanted to try running higher mileage this training cycle in which I topped out at 90 miles per week. We also included more true speed work to the plan to try to keep my relative speed up. It made for one tiring - physically and mentally - training cycle. I say 'mentally' with a invisible asterisk next to it. What do I mean by that? Well, the mental fatigue was really due to immense physical fatigue and the hormonal imbalance it was creating. With the new job I was getting up at 5:00 am most mornings to get in a run before work so that I could make it to the gym that evening or do a 2nd run. A typical week looked like this:

MONDAY	TUESDAY	WEDNESDAY	THURSDAY	FRIDAY	SATURDAY	SUNDAY
5:00 am Run	5:00 am Run	5:00 am Run	5:00 am Run	5:00 am Run	Long run	REST!!!!!
Work 8 hrs	Work 8 hrs	Work 8 hrs	Work 8 hrs	Work 8 hrs	Work 8 hrs
5:00 PM WEIGHTS	5:00 pm Intervals	5:00 pm 2nd run or rest	5:00 pm Intervals	5:00 pm Weights

Now, it may not look like a lot in a simple table, but what's not included is the time eating, showering, sitting in traffic and trying to maintain a somewhat "normal" life. I made it a point to be in bed at 9:00 pm every night, eat as much as I could and stay hydrated. It all sounds perfect but the reality was that I couldn't always get to bed by 9:00...which meant I didn't always get out of bed on time.... which caused me to have to rush to work...which meant I usually missed my post-run meal in that critical recovery window (if I got to eat at all.before lunch). This wasn't the case every day but I can definitely say it wasn't rare. I felt like I was high strung ALL the time and the more I stressed the more fatigued I got. I wasn't sleeping through the night - usually waking up around 2-3:00 am- and I was waking up with really achy/painful legs (OK, I know I was training for a marathon but this was a different kind of pain), my emotions were on the wildest roller coaster ever,  my period decided to just come and go as it pleased, I was irritable and craved just being alone. We made adjustments to my training as we went but the problem didn't seem to be going away.. A few weeks out from race day Coach Dad finally put a stop to the morning runs and I backed off the gym a bit so I could get some extra rest. This seemed to help a but I was still not sleeping through the nights and still waking up tired and achy. Race day came and went in which I walked away with a HUGE PR and I can say I ran the best race of my marathon career so far. I ran smarter, pushed harder and fought for every second of that five and a half minutes that put my PR at 2:52.

Clearly, the training worked and the fatigue was all worth it. However, I couldn't just let it go. What could I have run if I hadn't felt so run down? Is this going to happen every time I train for a marathon? I had questions, and I wanted answers. So, I started researching some of my symptoms. It took a while because I had to sift through all the WebMD bullshit that told me rest and take Ibuprofin. I tried searching some of my less common symptoms and was able to nail down what I am 99% sure (hey, I'm no doctor!) was causing my problems. I found a list of symptoms for Adrenal Fatigue that included all of my symptoms - including things I didn't think had anything to do with my fatigue. Again, I am no doctor but at least I had a good starting point to get myself back on track!

Adrenal fatigue is caused by high levels of stress, whether it be physical stress (like marathon training) or mental stress or a combination of the two. Your adrenal glands are stimulated by stress which causes them to release cortisol into your body. Cortisol regulates your "wake cycle" and regulates blood sugar. Hence, the reason I couldn't stay asleep. You can find out more HERE. The lack of deep sleep doesn't allow your body to fully recover from every day life, let alone the extra physical demands of marathon training.

I followed what the article recommended for natural remedies and hit up my local natural food store to create my daily vitamin cocktail. I have also started paying closer attention to my diet, we cut back on the weekly miles but are keeping the intensity up and I quit one job. I have since felt a HUGE turn around in my symptom and I now feel the normal amount of marathon training fatigue as I prepare to run Boston this April.

What did I learn?? Don't overload yourself. I had WAY too much going on and asked for a training program that was not feasible for my work schedule. I need to find ways to better balance life and to take time for myself when I feel I need it.  I am excited to be going back to Boston and I will need all the rest I can get to tackle that beast of a course!

"You don't have a chance."

When I was nine years old I asked my dad if I could go running with him. I asked him to go again, and again, and again. And there my friends, is where I became who I am.  At 12 years old I ran an 18:40 5K and at 14 placed 6th in the country at the Junior Olympics. Things were looking like I could really be good. I started my freshman year of high school off on fire. I was placing near the top of most of my cross country races and in track I had beat a state champion in the 2 mile and set a school record in the mile (which still stands. TOOT TOOT!). Sophomore year cross country I became the first girl in school history to qualify for the state meet. Things were still looking pretty good. Then track season came and went with nothing short of disappointment. Thinking back, I can't really tell you what happened or why, but something during that season changed me. I struggled the rest of my high school career. I never made another state meet nor did I run any faster than I did my freshman year.

I was frustrated, felt defeated and unhappy. Not many people know this, but I debated unlacing my running shoes and never putting them on again - more than once. However, every time my brain battled my heart I would break down in tears. I took this as a sign that I just wasn't ready to call it quits. So I didn't. I plodded through the rest of my very inconsistent seasons having a few great races and the rest I would call mediocre. It's not like I was running awful times, I just wasn't running any faster. I wish I could put some of the blame on the fact that I was a team of one and battled a bad case of anemia one year, but it's not the case.

My college career started out pretty much the same way as it did in high school. I had a stellar freshman cross country season followed by a pretty decent track season where I had a big PR in the 5K and I qualified and ran in our conference championships. Sophomore track season is really where things went wrong; way wrong. Every season we would sit down with our coach in a "goal meeting." I walked into my meeting with Coach, goals in hand and ready to go. I walked out of there in tears and never having felt so worthless. When I told him my goals he sat back in his chair, crossed his arms and - I kid you not - said

"You don't have a chance."

Having struggled through high school and trying to rebuild my confidence, those five words had done me in. Over the next few years I again found myself debating whether or not I wanted to continue running; again sobbing my eyes out every time I thought about it. Thankfully (my team mates all know how big of a THANKFULLY that is!) my coach left before the start of my junior year and we were blessed to have a new - and VERY much improved - coach. Things did get better for me but again my seasons were very inconsistent. I qualified both junior and senior year for track conference champs but other things kept me from being able to compete in them. I finished out my eligibility feeling like I had really done nothing worth speaking of. 

It's hard to look back and see how good I was when I was young and the hopes and dreams I had, to having it play out the way it did. However, I have three things to blame for this: ME, MYSELF and I. During high school and college I didn't want to admit it, but I ran weak and I ran scared.  I have to be honest with myself and own up to the fact that I could have achieved all those dreams but I got in my own way. I gave into the pain and just wasn't ready to go through the hurt that it takes to win. It was easier to say I had a bad day than to deal with the fact that I just got beat. 

Even as I type this, I am pissing myself off. Why did I do that?! I didn't run up to my potential and I watched everyone around me do so. Instead of knowing how good I could have been, I have to ask "What if?"  Well, that damn question is a question that I will ask myself no longer. I am done wondering how good I can be and I am done being afraid to hurt. I am out to find out how good I WILL be and how bad I can make it hurt. I used to see paces for my workouts and say "HA, ya right!" and now I see them and think "Bring it on." It took a lot to get myself to this point. I had to do a lot of letting go and give myself a HUGE reality check. I put so much pressure on myself to be good that I psyched myself out. I finally had to say "Erin, WHO CARES!? Now, obviously I care - a whole hell of a lot. But, if I have a bad day it doesn't affect anybody but me! Nobody is going to judge me if I don't win and they aren't going to judge me if I don't PR. Running is purely for ME and while I am serious about it, I also need to relax a bit. Since accepting this, I have lifted that excess pressure and have pushed harder, run faster and finished stronger. The thought of quitting has not crossed my mind since crossing the line at CIM in 2009. I absolutely love running - not that I never did -  and I can't even describe to you the passion I have for it. 

Every time I compete I am competing to win. Every time I lace up my shoes I am competing with myself.

I am excited to really hit the training hard for my fall marathon. Coach Dad will be putting me through some new training styles, kicking up my mileage and pushing me harder than ever. I am building a solid base over summer and working on developing my speed. (GOD DAMN I forgot how bad 5Ks hurt!) I have also started working with two strength coaches. So far they have torn my form apart, embarrassed me about how weak I am (unintentionally....I think! ;) ) and made my so sore it hurts to wash my hair. Call me psycho but I love every second of it. They are an "Oh, it hurts? Here's five more pounds" type of gym that will push you to better both mentally and physically. I am already feeling stronger on my runs - I will let you know about my arms later haha - and look forward to having my ass handed to me ever week. OT 2016!

You can check them out at The Ranch Athletics. <---- Click Here

RACE RECAP: Avenue of the Vines

Well, like I had mentioned in an earlier post, races don't always go as planned. Today....was one of those days. (insert words your mom would wash your mouth out with soap for saying.)

I have been working my ass off the past seven weeks to run a sub-80 (under 1:20:00 for my non-runner folk) for a half marathon. Workouts were going well - really well - and I was feeling really good about racing. I had a nice taper this week and after my shake out run yesterday my legs were feeling really good. 

Aside from the start being pushed back to 7:30 - at 6:55 meaning my warm up was already done- and then pushed back forward only to stand for 10 more minutes at the line, the day was looking great. So I thought. The gun goes off, we make the first turn and BOOM....head wind. SERIOUSLY!? Where was this all morning!? The course layout was essentially one giant box. The first 4 miles being run on the same long, straight road. (Want proof? Look here http://www.usatf.org/routes/view.asp?rID=115526 ) Four miles of a head wind? Not ideal. Head wind aside, the first mile was ridiculously slow from my own doing. I was trying to gauge my pace off the group of teenage guys who I assumed would be going balls to the wall from the start. They didn't go out hard and the pace felt somewhat "easy." After half a mile I had a suspicion that I was definitely going to be slow the first mile - better than too fast! I moved up to the back of that group and when we went through the mile I had two choices: Stay at this with the pack, draft, definitely miss my goal time OR battle the wind head on and hope for the best. So I decided to hope for the best. I moved around them - as they said " Man, we are going to get beat my a girl!" haha - and picked up the pace. 

Now, from having done this racing thing multiple times in my life, I knew that trying to PR pace while fighting the wind would only come back to haunt me the last few miles of the race. So I dropped the pace to where I felt like I was working "comfortably hard" without over working. Knowing that the course was a box, I knew that I was going to get a nice tailwind the second half and so I decided that was going to be when I would start to put the hammer down. By mile five I was out of the wind enough to finally get on goal pace. I could tell the wind had done some damage on my legs, but I still felt like I would be able to hold strong until the end. Mile seven is where the race turned ugly. I took my GU - like I do EVERY time I race a half or longer - and my stomach decided it did NOT care for GU today. Now, I am not talking about the normal "side-stitch" stomach cramping. I am talking about the normal side-stitch + nausea +  I might shit. F*CK. I was really hurting. I tried my best to maintain my pace but the harder I pushed, my intestines pushed back a little harder. By mile 10 I knew I had fallen off enough to miss my time. The last 3 miles turned into a suffer fest of trying not to lose it from either end and battling the wind.  Not to mention that I had run completely alone, aside from one of the cyclists, since mile two. Makes you jealous that you aren't  me, right? 

Well if you don't envy me yet, you will now.  I was able to hang on long enough to place 3rd overall and 1st female. You may be saying to yourself  "big deal, you won." Well the winner, both male and female, win their weight in wine! BOOM. Jealous now!? However, as a very vino friend of mine pointed out (thanks, Shannon Elsemore!) I am not a big drinker. Aside from a bottle or two, the wine will be going to a wedding (sorry Shannon!) of two awesome runner friends of mine; you may know them: Michelle La Sala, CIM Race Director (no big deal & yes I totally just name dropped) and Kevin Pool, pretty much a marathon badass (PR 2:18:59).

To sum up: I didn't run a PR but got a win and a crap load of wine. Aren't you glad you read all that when you could have just read that last sentence? Love you, too. ;) 

All the spectators on the course...sans the cows.

Age Group Award

Haha Ya, right!

Saying you won your weight in wine sounds a lot better than it looks! ;)