BHAG Update : Letting Go of a Goal, Self-Worth, and Redefining

Planning. Goal setting. Taking action.  Pushing boundaries.  This is what I do, pretty much all day every day.  This drive is in my DNA.  Back in late October I wrote a post declaring my Big Hairy Audacious Goal.  I wanted to compete in a 12 hour trail race in June, and I wanted to put in a performance that would put me in the top 5 women in the history of that specific race.  I was committed, passionate, declared my intention, and moved forward exactly according to plan.

Phase 1 was literally flawless – I got to the point of 20 milers feeling very comfortable, no muscle strains, no burn out, no tightness, just fluid movement that was highly enjoyable.  Phase two of training started on a good note with added speed work and continued strength building in the 20+ mile range.   Things were great…. Until they weren’t.   A cold turned into a lung infection, which turned into 9 days in a row of fevers, and ended in walking pneumonia. 

At this point, I’m down three and a half weeks from training, and am restricted for at least another 2.  That’s almost 6 consecutive weeks taken out of the meatiest part of my training plan.  My intention was to be a contender for the top spot in my race.  Looking at my current situation, and my other running goals later in the year, I have made the wise choice.  To pull out of the 12 hour event. 

It literally didn’t even occur to me until yesterday afternoon that this may happen.  My blind faith and trust in my body and training kept me unwavering mentally, until I saw my lung x-rays.  Apparently lung infections aren’t something to be fucked with, and strong willed me can’t even force it to clear up any faster.  Seemingly, I do in fact have limitations. 

The 45 minutes following this realization weren’t pretty.  I was thinking things like ‘Now what?  Who am I if I’m not thriving inside the structure of a training plan?  How do I define myself now?  Am I now considered ‘basic’?  Will my crew be disappointed?  I invested months into this already – how do I let that go?  Who the hell am I if I’m not striving for running greatness and making it look fun?’ 

I’m glad I gave myself a window of time to brood, be pissed off, and ask the deep dark questions of myself that most people don’t say in the light of day.  I realized how closely I tied my identity and self-worth to my running.  I realized how much I like to be in the role of running super achiever. 

Why run Ragnar with 12 people when you can do it with....3?

The danger is that running is something that can be taken away in an instant – because of a health issue, injury, accident – anything.  Running isn’t who I am, it’s just one of the things I do.  One of the many things.  I couldn’t see that clearly when I was reacting to the hard decision I made, I just knew I was intensely disappointed.  I felt like I had just broken up with someone I still really liked.

 

After having a night to sleep on it, and waking up with a clear head, I’m at peace with my decision.  I know it’s the best thing big picture.  I may not be able to run 20 milers right now, but here’s what I CAN do.  Run every other day, work on strength training and flexibility.  I can focus on my next goal, which is helping pace a friend at the Western States 100 June 24^th and 25^th.  I can study the course, encourage my friend in his training, and allow myself the rest I need to be 100% again.

And most importantly, I can work on identifying myself as more than just a runner.   Identify and honor those things that truly define me. Not get caught up associating my self-worth with the activities I participate in.  The miles I run don’t make me a good person, they don’t change the world, they don’t make a person feel loved, and they’re not my last thought at night when I think about what really went right that day. 

Thanks dear friends for all the kind words I’ve received – you all clearly know how important my running and training is to me.  And thanks to this adversity I am reminded that though I love to run, I’m not just a runner.  I’m a dreamer. A lover. A giver. A creative. An athlete. A thinker. A leader.  And a student.    

 

Chippewa Moraine 50k Race Recap

I have been sitting here staring at my blank screen, trying to think of the best way to convey my experience in yesterday's 50k trail race.  How to really describe and get you to, as closely as I can, evoke the experience in you just by reading. But with me level of exhaustion and post race day 'stupids' as I call them, I'm struggling with it.  So I'll just start from the beginning.

Day Before Race:
My boyfriend and I started our drive north around 1 Friday afternoon, and it felt great to get on the road.  I was anxious and excited from the moment I woke up, and knew I wouldn't settle down until we were well on our way.  I nervously chattered, played eclectic songs from my iPod, and eventually we saw signs for Eau Claire and Chippewa Falls. 

Fun car ride! :)

I wanted to get my race packet first so we continued north, as the race was about 25 miles north of Chippewa Falls.  I didn't have the actual address of the nature center so I just put the name of it in my GPS and trusted the directions.  After a looooooong drive down a moderately treacherous dirt road that went past nothing that looked like a nature center, we stopped and I asked a woman who was feeding her horses for directions.  She was really friendly and helpful and before I knew it we were pulling up to our destination. 

The volunteers were great and I happily took my race packet and looked at the blown up course map to show my bf where I'd be running.  That's when I noticed that two of the aid stations were crossed out.  What??  Originally there was to be 4 aid stations on the way (two of them - the now crossed out ones- were not to be manned with volunteers, just water out there in jugs) and one at the turn around, so a total of 9 stops along the 31 mile out and back course.  Now just 5.  Yikes - that made me a little nervous. Thankfully the weather wasn't supposed to be hot at all so my one bottle I had for my waist belt should be efficient to get me to each aid station. 

From there we quickly checked into our hotel, and then drove to Draganetti's, a little Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Eau Claire.   At this point I was HUNGRY so we ordered a couple appetizers, and I had my traditional race eve glass of white wine.  The service was wonderful, the food was perfect, we had great conversation, and my race nerves were calmed.  Our meals were incredible - I had grilled chicken and spinach on capellini pasta with pomodoro sauce. Yum!
 
 Next we went back to the hotel where I showered up and organized all my things for race morning, hydrated a little more, and finished up the night by watching a couple episodes of How I Met Your Mother with the bf.  I crashed hard, but soon after started my cycle of waking up every 20 - 30 minutes or so.  I was getting excited, and was nervous that I'd over sleep, or that I wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night to hydrate and eat a snack like I always do before a big race.

Race Morning:
I finally jumped out of bed ten minutes before my alarm was set to go off and started getting ready.  As soon as I got my racing clothes on I was much more calm.  After my traditional race day breakfast and two small cups of coffee, we were off.   

It was right around 40° at the starting line which was crisp but nice.  I added a light North Face long sleeve to go over my tank top and sleeves just to be safe.  I had a drop bag set for the turn around point so I could ditch it there if I needed to.  The field of roughly 225 people were chattering nervously, which I honestly don't like, so I went to the edge of the group near the few people that weren't talking about their nerves.  I like quiet time to focus before the start of a race instead of getting swept up in other people's nerves.  I knew I trained well, and I knew what my goals were (to listen to my body, walk hard up the up hills, and run the rest, and ideally negative split), and that's all I needed to think about.

The Race - First Half:
The race started about 7 minutes late, and I was ready to roll.  The first part was a steep, winding down hill (that we would be crawling up at the end to the finish ling - cruel!  But I'd wait to think about that till later) and then around a prairie type area.  We wound back around by the parked cars and then filed into the woods.  I settled in behind two guys, one who was a cyclocross racer, and the other was a long time runner who did the Chippewa 50k last year. I enjoyed their conversation, and at the same time tried to tune out the people behind me.  A man with a big booming voice was enjoying stating the obvious about everything, and I just don't like hearing a lot of words when I'm working hard.  The first aid station was about 3 miles in, where I quickly downed a Gatorade and cruised out of there in less than ten seconds or so.  I wanted to drop that group behind me and hear some other conversation. 

I don't like to talk much at all when racing trail - it distracts me and feels draining to me at times, and I knew I'd be breathing harder in the tricky sections so I wanted to save my breath.  I pictured myself as a 'ghost runner' - not talking, quiet feet, quiet breathing, and I'd pass them later on.  It helped to stick to my game plan!  I was now behind two guys that reminded me of listening to Trail Runner Nation, so I really enjoyed them.  Both were very experienced ultra runners, and have done multiple 100's.  They talked about how good they felt, and how they wanted to run the second half faster than the first.  I was a little intimidated by that, and the fact that one of them had been racing ultras since 1992, so I thought I best to let them pull ahead shortly after the 10 mile aid station.  I felt like I was running their race instead of running mine because I liked their conversation so much. I needed to re-collect myself and fuel a little extra as I was getting a little tired by then, and there was a LOT of race left.  I felt good slowing down a bit and eating and drinking extra.  I felt like I took the first half harder than I needed to, and to top it off I had 5 hard ankle rolls up to that point.  3 rolls on the right ankle, and two on the left.  The outside of my right ankle leading up towards my knee was burning quite a bit because of the severity of the last roll, so I was trying to play it safe and really watch my footing. 

The leaves on the trail made it hard to know what you were stepping on, and made the narrow, winding down hills pretty slippery.  Overall there were a lot more runnable sections of trail than I remember and that helped to give me more of a rhythm. 

After mile 12 I was really fixated on getting to that turn around point.  I had a Red Bull and an Aleve in my drop bag, and I really wanted them both.  I never take meds of any kind while racing, but with the added possibility of falling, ankle rolls, and early onset soreness in my quads I put that Aleve in there just in case. And I was SO glad I did.  After a few more miles, hopping a fence, a couple narrow bridges, and some gorgeous views I heard the cheering and knew I was just about there.  Seeing the top of the tent through the trees put a huge smile on my face and I was SO relieved to be there.  I took off the long sleeve I wanted to ditch 14 miles earlier and slammed down the Red Bull and took my one Aleve. I then topped off my water bottle and ate a mini Pay Day, and I was back out there.  I had been counting the places of the women in front of me and I was right around 27th overall female at that point.  I wasn't 'racing', but wanted to know where I was at in the standings.

The Race - Second Half:
On the way to the turn around the runners headed there were to yield to the runners that were heading back to the finish.  That disrupted my rhythm on the way there, so once I was heading back on my second half it felt great to have the other runners move off the trail to let me through.  I started feeling my Red Bull and Aleve kick in and I was feeling gooood.  Just to give you a mental picture, there really aren't any parts of this course that are truly flat.  There are at least mild grades on what eventually feels 'flat' compared to the rest.  As you can imagine, it takes a toll on your quads quickly, and the downhills you looked forward to so much in the beginning, are now what feels the worst. 

I didn't want to roll my ankles any more so I was intensely watching where I was stepping.  I didn't have an more ankle rolls, but I kept catching the end of branches with a toe, then lifting it up and tripping myself with it.  I collected a couple good scratched on my calves because of those. 

Just after mile 20 I started seeing people's wheels really falling off, and I was feeling great by then.  I had been running behind a woman for about 15 minutes and then we came up on another group of 4 or so people.  At that point the path widened and got really muddy.  By then most people were walking slowly trying to avoid getting any muddier, so I took this as a time to start pressing.  I hopped through it the best I could and took off.  I decided to count 'road kill' to keep myself busy and pushing forward, so in that move I collected 5 road kill - I collected a few soon after the turn around as well so my total at that point for the second half was 8 or 9.  I felt a true second wind (which was really more like a fifth wind) and was cruising.  I was surprising myself by how quickly I was going and how much energy I had to power walk up those climbs.  I had two mantras in my head - the first was 'tough as nails'.  The other was 'run the runable'.  I knew if I would stick to my plan of only walking on the uphills, and walking powerfully, I'd do well, and possibly negative split. 

Coming up on people who were obviously slowing down, falling, stumbling, and stopping fueled me even more.  I remember thinking in that moment that this was what I LOVED to do.  I loved that feeling, the silence of the woods, the power I had within to move my sore legs and keep my cadence pretty high. I loved the stillness of my surroundings, the sound of my breathing, the smell of the pine forest sections.  I wanted that part of the race to go on forever.  It felt like... home.  It was the most myself I could ever imagine feeling.  It was glorious. 

During that surge that lasted about 6+ miles I road killed 25+ people, and even passed the two really experienced ultramarathoners who had intimidated me a bit in the beginning. The last three miles were tough, and I found myself running with two other women, two other tough as nails, badass, amazing women.  I felt fortunate to be suffering with them near me, talking a little bit, and encouraging one another.  I didn't care if I passed them or not, I was just happy to have other people's strength to inspire me and keep pushing me through to that finish. 

The one woman that had been ahead of me for a few miles pushed forward, as she was really driven to get her goal time of 6:23 (a full hour faster than her time there last year) and I stayed with the other woman who was near us.  I felt a burst of energy when we got out of the woods and circled back by the parked cars.  My bf was on the hill next to there waving and taking pictures - I couldn't wait to collapse into his arms and be done, so I pushed.  I started picking up my pace to get some space in-between me and the woman I was talking with, but got over zealous and overshot the turn. She was nice enough to yell and get my attention and so I backtracked and kept pushing.  A woman I had passed at the aid station at mile 28 had pulled in front of both of us and I didn't want to just give her that place.  She was pushing hard but I stuck to running tangents to move as directly as I could and it made up some time.  I added some kick to help drive me up some of the base of the hill before I started power walking my way up to the finish and it gave me some distance between me and the other two woman.  This was by far the worst I felt the entire day. The climb was steep, you could hear the crowd at the finish line, I knew these two other woman were on my heels, and I was starting to look like the people I passed deep in the woods.  I could hardly move my legs so I tried to use my arms as hard as I could to help propel me up that damn hill. I was groaning and breathing hard - so much so that the guy in front of me turned around to make sure I was okay.  I somehow broke into a run at the top so  could run across the finish line, and some woman even said 'wow - she's got some kick left!'  The clock was about to turn to 6:27 and I wanted to cross before I got there, so I finished with a final time of 6:26.56.  19th overall female, and 5th in my division.  And I did negative split by about ten minutes. 

This race was an amazing experience.  After training to run this one in 2009, and then getting injured on the course during my last long run (and then not being able to run for 3 months after that) it felt wonderful to settle that score.  I am happy with how I executed the race, I feel fortunate to run with such strong and inspiring competitors, and I am content with taking some time to recover.

On a side note, I kept laughing at myself last night as I was falling asleep.  You know how sometimes you dream that you're falling and startle yourself awake? I did that over and over and over last night - I spent so much of my day tripping and trying not to fall on the trail I was dreaming about it!

Thanks everyone for your support and encouragement while I trained for this event.  It was wonderful.I'll post pictures of the event this week. :)

 

Quite a different facial expression in the car on the way home than on the way to the race!