Running toward my desire

Saturday morning I was running before the sun rose while the thoughts that had wakened me continued to occupy my mind. As the painful push up the hill faded with the view of Christmas lights against the pink mountain miles away, I turned east toward a sky overflowing with colored clouds. Even while I marveled at the variety in front of me, my mind turned back to the major changes that are approaching our family. The list is not short. The list is very long and very scary to one who enjoys patterns, plans, and order.

I'd turned east on purpose at the top of the hill. It seemed a waste to run with my back to the light show unfolding as I ran, but eventually I came to a fork in the road. I wanted to keep going in the direction that I'd started in, but duty called back at the house, and I unwillingly turned to the west to wind my way back to the house. It was then that I saw what had been happening behind me. The sky over Pikes Peak glowed pink. What had been behind me, where I didn't want to go, took my breath away when I finally submitted to turning around. It was like God was shouting to me that when I trust Him, when I look at Him instead of the uncertainty around me that He will do something beautiful. It doesn't mean that He wrote the answers in the sky. But He brought to mind David's words in Psalm 73, "Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." He seemed to be saying, love me more, desire me more: more than order, than answers, than security. I think that the answer is in learning to know my God and being satisfied in Him no matter what deep waters He is calling me to walk through. He is asking me to keep my eyes fixed on Him and not on the waves lapping at my feet.

Run, Rabbit, Run 50 Mile Race Report

I have often remembered the whiteness of the snow flurries that filled the window the day that I pushed the button to sign up for the 50 mile Run, Rabbit, Run race. I also remember thinking that I was afraid to say, "Yes," but also a little bit curious too. Curious to see if I really could train for and run a 50 mile race. Sometimes that distance seemed so impossible, and at other times, it seemed completely possible.

When we arrived in Steamboat, I was dealing with the excitement and anticipation of the race as well as the questions that always seem to be present at the start of something big. "Am I ready? Can I do this? How will I respond when it seems impossible? Am I mentally tough enough to keep going?" I was able to put off thoughts of the race until Friday when it was time to check in and go to the pre-race briefing. The race director talked about how this wasn't a beginners race and asked for our word that we wouldn't quit. I didn't say anything. I guess that I had already determined on some level that I would finish and didn't feel like I needed to tell him that for it to be true. I say that knowing that I couldn't know what would happen the next day, but I did know that I intended to do everything possible to finish while admitting that any number of things could happen to change my plans. The other point of emphasis by the race director was that it is dangerous to blindly follow the runners ahead of you when trying to follow an ultra course. At the start of the race, that would come into play. . .

I got as much sleep as can be expected the night before attempting something doubtful. I didn't sleep well, but thankfully the morning came, and we made our way to the start where I said my goodbyes and in a rush joined the other runners who promptly missed the turn to cross the stream and like a herd of lemmings, scrambled to fix our mistake. I just happened to be the last runner across the bridge and up the ski hill. That start put me in a bit of a panic, so I pushed up the small upgrade in the dark past runners settling in for the climb and getting to know the runners around them. There was a fair amount of story swapping that gave me plenty to think about as the sun came up behind us while we made our way steadily up the service road. The lead 100 mile runners were coming in on the down hill. I caught sight of Nick Clark whom my husband and I had talked to at Fish Creek a few days before. He looked a bit dazed. I took off my gloves a few miles up; I was starting to warm up. It took us nearly two hours of hiking to make our way to the first aid station. I ate a bit and failed to take a salt tab. When I left the aid station at Mt. Werner, the trail dove sharply down. I was so excited to finally be able to run that I gave a war whoop and shot down the mountain. I soon had to stop and adjust my shoes and dig in my pack for a salt tab. Those stops meant that I was leap frogging with several runners and groups of runners. Two or three miles from the aid station, I tucked in behind two military men who were running together. The older of the two had finished multiple ultras and was running with the younger guy to pace and help him through his first 50 mile adventure. Their running pace was just what I was shooting for and the conversation helped to distract me from my slightly upset stomach and doubtful mind. I was struggling at this time with the idea of how far there still was to cover and how I was going to get back. That is always the difficulty of the out and back course. It is difficult to trick the brain when you know you just have to turn around and get back from where you run to. The terrain was not too difficult with rolling hills and challenging, but runable single track snaking through high mountain meadows and up and down ridges between the drainages. The view of Long Lake as we broke out of the forest was breathtaking. It was difficult to keep running, as the eyes were drawn to the glories of God's creation. I almost couldn't take my eyes off of the mountains around me. That aid station was busy as there were 50 mile and 100 mile runners. I ate, took salt, got rid of my trash, and headed out. I thought that I would separate from the guys I'd been tailing, but when the markers were missing blue flags for a ways, there were several of us who put our heads together to make sure we were on track and I again attached myself to their group. We ran that way to the next aid station about six miles away, and once again after moving through the aid station, I was able to tail them. My stomach was still not right, but I was able to put it out of my mind except for looking for opportunities and trees off the trail to try to settle it. I kept drinking and was well hydrated the entire race. Base camp aid station was only four miles from my crew, but I was already past the time that I'd hoped on an outside chance to be to them. During this section, we were fighting lots of mud in the low places in the meadows that looked like they were home to herds of elk on quieter days. Again, the views were picturesque. I should have stopped to relish them, but the purpose of the day was urging me forward. At the Dumont Campground, just a bit before the aid station, I left the group of runners that had grown by one and pushed ahead. I was beginning to panic that the pace that we'd been running was just under what made me comfortable about finishing. I caught sight of Joel in his blue shirt and carrying the crew box first. The crew helped me change out of my leggings and traded my pack for a hand held bottle as we'd planned. They also gave me some salt that I took on the road up the mountain. Taking off to touch the rabbit ears, I lost sight of the two men that I'd been running with, but without the opportunity to tuck in behind them for those miles, I don't think that I could have finished. I didn't have to think or mentally fight with myself to keep running for all of those 12 or 15 miles and that meant that I had enough mental strength to fight the battles that were still ahead. I did see them briefly at the turn around and after the race learned that Mark finished, but Michael who was attempting his first 50 didn't make it.

Just after leaving the crew, I turned my right ankle badly. I hobbled on and the pain shifted, but from that point on there was a constant sharp pain across the bottom of my foot with every step. Sometimes the pain also shot across the sides and top of my foot, but that pain came and went. I've never had a sprained ankle bruise before, but this one has bruised. The good news is that the hip that had been making my hamstring hurt painfully, was tight, but I was able to relax it even while running to the point that it never really ached. It just twinged now and then. Mostly when that happened, I was able to lengthen my stride and stretch out my hip. I found that it hurt mostly on the down hill sections, and if I ran faster it hurt less.

The hike up to the rabbit ears was on a rutted road that was very difficult to walk/run on. There were runners coming back from the rock constantly passing me in the opposite direction. Having to touch the rock was one of the most fun parts of the race. It made it seem like a race on the play ground when I was a kid. The hike up there was very difficult, but there were people other than the runners enjoying the hike. There were even some guys with their jeep parked on the side of the road, enjoying sandwiches as they sat looking over the valley. I headed back to my crew at Dumont where they gave me back my pack and fed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and coke. I also reapplied some body glide and gave hugs all around. I asked Justin if I walked all the way back if I could make it. Of course, he told me that I could, but that I'd not be satisfied with that and urged me to run it in. Yeah! Run it in for 23 miles over how many mountains?! Just as he always does, he was in my head, and I couldn't not run after that. I worked hard to run anything that wasn't up hill. Despite running most of the way back by myself, I was able to run a negative split of about 17 minutes. I'd like to say that I had many deep thoughts and solved all the world problems in those six hours it took me to get down the mountain, but I didn't. I worked my way from aid station to aid station with the intention of getting down before it got dark and cold. When I got to Mt. Werner aid station, I was well ahead of the cut offs with only six or so miles to go. I had a very hard time running this steep downhill section. I ran some, but also walked parts of it. I'd been felling light headed off and on since mile 30. So on the way down, when my hand started to tingle and I got light headed again, I told the runner next to me, that I was having a hard time. He suggested that we walk down for awhile together. We did, and I began to feel better. When we got off the service road and onto the trail about a mile from the finish, he suggested that I go ahead. I was ready to run so took off. I saw my dad just a quarter of a mile from the finish, he ran with me for just a bit. I crossed the bridge with the kids all trailing behind and ran up the steps to hug the designated hugger.

That seems like such an anticlimactic ending to such a day, and yet, it was fitting. I was very thankful for those who waited around for me, but for me the day flew by. It already seems like a dream. A dream that I sometimes see very clearly when I remember that I really did cover 50 miles on my own two feet, but helped along by friends, family, and strangers. Mostly, I am very thankful for all the people who helped me in small and big ways. It was sure fun. Thanks.

One more reason that I love running

After four days of nearly no running, I was able to run 10 miles of hill repeats in 1:43.38. Roughly 10:20 miles. I am so excited!! Mostly because I was beginning to think that I am slowing down with all the long running that I am doing and running any miles that fast is really encouraging, but mostly, and here is the reason that I love running, because I was able to do something that felt impossible at the beginning. I started out on the workout with the idea that I'd like to get 10 miles in in less than 2 hours. I ran 11 in 2 hours counting my 20 minute cooldown with the dog. Yeah! Then there were the times on the way up the hill every time, that I wanted to back off, but was able to mentally push into the small task of the next landmark where I'd been recording times each lap. I love the opportunity to set goals and see them met. I love being able to control the outcome by my hard work. I know that there are few things that are in my control, but it is rewarding to me to set goals that are determined primarily by my willingness to suffer and invest. God was so good to give me this positive run at a time when I was struggling with the idea that I could run successfully in September. It is also a blessing to be able to see and feel once again the joy of running and not just the daily grind. Running is so like being a follower of Christ. Most days the road is dusty, long, and unexciting, but there are just enough amazing views and moments of feeling like you could fly that give hope that we keep on going knowing that the reward is worth the work. Thanks God for giving encouragement on the path.

meditations

In Hosea 9:1-4 the prophet is warning of the coming judgement that God will pour out on Israel. It has always been interesting to me the things that God sees as curses that we do not. Here the focus is the production of and enjoyment of two basic foods, wine and bread, but the text goes beyond that. The people will not have an abundance of bread and wine, but also their offerings of bread and wine will not please God. Verse four says, "They shall not pour drink offerings of wine to the LORD, and their sacrifices shall not please him. It shall be like mourners' bread to them; all who eat of it shall be defiled: For their bread shall be for their hunger only; it shall not come to the house of the LORD." It seems to me that the real curse being promised is not the lack of food, but the lack of fellowship. Their bread will satisfy their physical hunger, but it will be a defilement to them rather than a means to fellowship with God. They will not even pour out their drink offerings before God. Today, if God wills, I hope to partake of the LORD's supper with my church family. Interestingly, the elements of the LORD's supper are wine and bread, but unlike the wine and bread mentioned in the text, the LORD's supper represents a sufficient sacrifice. My drink offering, Christ's shed blood, has been poured out and accepted. The bread of his body has been offered once for all, and when I drink the cup and eat the bread, I can join with God in covenant and fellowship. The danger is that I will approach the table with the same disregard and wickedness as those Israelites that Hosea was writing to, that I will come to the table with a heart full of pride, self-sufficiency, and idolatry. May God deliver me from eating only to fill my physical hunger the thing that was meant to be the very life of my soul.

Faith lessons, Running lessons

Training for September's Run Rabbit Run 50 mile has picked up again after a few weeks off to recover from the 50K. This week's goal was 33 miles. I only made 32, but it feels like much, much more than that. I ran hills on Monday, intervals on Tuesday, then took Wednesday off to lift weights. Thursday was a bit full so I ran 2.5 miles with some sprints thrown into the middle of the run. Friday, we had an all day homeschool event so the 2 mile hike that we took as a group along with horse chores was all the training that I was able to fit in. I will say that after carrying my three-year-old on my back for part of the way and being on my feet for most of the day, I was feeling it. Not to mention that I was still so sore from the weight workout, that it hurt to walk let alone run. That was Friday night. I had 16 miles on the schedule for Saturday and late Friday night my husband started talking about where I was going to run. We talked about Falcon Trail. I wasn't totally on board as it is a drive and the loop is only 13 miles. I'd have to add three miles on and that type of a workout can really play with my head. I went with it and left the house at 6:20 Saturday morning. I got to the North Gate of the Air Force Academy at 6:50 a.m. They open for visitors at 8:00 a.m. The guard said that I could wait in the parking lot near the gate which also happens to be an access point for the Santa Fe Trail. I had limited time so opted to start running on the trail right away. I headed south as I remembered that the most interesting part of the trail was the portion that went through the south part of the Academy. (I'd run the trail once before as part of the course for the ADT Marathon in 2009.) It was about five miles into my run that I realized that I'd started downhill and would have to run back all up hill. That is also about the time that my legs started to show their fatigue from the week's running. As long as the trail was relatively flat, I was fine. As soon as the trail started to show some grade, the pain in my legs was intense. There were moments when I was distracted enough not to feel it, but those moments became less and less. Usually on an out-and-back run like that, I will be able to run the last half much faster than the first leg. That was not the case this time. I was pushing all the way to even be ten minutes slower for the last half. My legs felt like they had run 25-30 miles before I'd even begun. All in all, it was a perfect training week. I can truly be happy for the outcomes. There is much to be gained and learned from running a long run on legs that don't respond. Practicing the mental game of running when it all hurts will be very helpful late in the 50 mile race. There were countless times when it would have been easier to sit down and cry, or even just walk. Keeping on pushing in those moments was hard, but now that I've done it, it will be easier the next time. This morning when our pastor was preaching on the encouragement for our Christian faith in I John 2:12-14 he mentioned keeping on when you are weary because we have overcome the Evil One. It made me think of running on tired legs. I can keep going, because the race has already been won. Even when my heart is heavy and breaking. Even when the clouds are so dark that I cannot see the light. He has won the victory and by faith it is mine. So I'll put my head down, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. He is my victory! I can't help but draw parallels between the running and the living. So often one gives encouragement for the other.

Good gifts

This day has been full. Full of many good things. Mostly, I am full of gratitude for the opportunity to be a wife and a mother. My children are a blessing. They played beautifully at their recital, but more importantly, I got to watch them serve others. I get to be the wife of a man who loves God, his children, and me. He leads us well. He gently urged me to run away from home today: so I got to have a wonderfully painful adventure, not the one I had planned but an even better one. I am thankful to my God for the heaping of good things that are on my plate today.

Cheyenne Mountain 50K 2014

Last Saturday, I was able to take a run in the park, Cheyenne Mountain State Park. Thanks to my mom's coming to stay with us for a week, my husband and I were both able to run the 50K race. I'd run the same race two years ago. That outing was my first and only attempt at the ulta distance. I'd run several other races on those trails and have a great appreciation for the difficulty of the course that I didn't have three years ago when I ran my first trail race (a half marathon) at the same park. So knowing the course and the difficulty of the trails involved, I was rather nervous about my ability to handle both the distance and the hills. Two years ago, when I finished the 50K, I'd had the opportunity to attend regular exercise classes that had significantly built my core muscle strength. This time around, I'd not been able to fit in those classes so felt much less strong and feared that the lack would show in my leg fatigue on the climbs and downhill sections of the race (that happens to be most of the course.) My husband and I arrived at the park and immediately found a friend who was also running the 50K. We applied sun screen, and deposited our drop bags then waited for the pre-race briefing. The day was warm at the start so though I tied my long-sleeved shirt around my waist, I never needed it. I had two goals going into the race, one was to control my pace early on enough that I wouldn't be suffering through the last half of the race. The second was just to completely enjoy the opportunity to run on trails in the mountains for a day. With those goals in mind, I followed my husband's advice for the first lap and attempted to keep my breathing under control. Any time that I started to gasp, I stopped to walk the uphills, or slowed the pace. The first loop of the race was run on the Cougar Shadow side of the park. I enjoyed the other runners and watching the 50K and 25K leaders sprint past me. It is a joy to watch well trained athletes compete! I even held a conversation with one man who had been running ultras for 39 years. He gave me some great advice before we got separated at an aid station. Because it was hot, I started taking a salt tab at each aid station. I also began pouring large amounts of water on my face and head. That and the occasional breeze kept me from overheating. I also opted to change from my cap to the visor at the drop bag at the end of the first loop. I had started eating a gel about every hour to 45 minutes. There were only a few moments in the race when I felt my energy lag, and I found that the gels were working so kept using those instead of the food. I did eat a PB and J at the first aid station. It seemed to go down fine. At the end of the fist loop, my time was one hour and thirty-three minutes. A touch faster than the last time I'd run this race, so I was a bit concerned, but I was feeling strong. I reapplied my body glide and started the second loop up toward North Talon. By this time, I was running mostly alone, but some 25K runners were still passing me so I wasn't completely alone. I tried to run all the uphill that I could comfortably. At the aid station on the way down, I drank some hot coke and took a salt tab. Something about the combination (I'd just taken a gel) didn't sit well on my stomach, but the queasiness eased, and I was able to push on. The loop took me two hours. I was very excited, but lagging just a bit as we came back to the start area where I once again stopped at my drop bag. I took time to reapply body glide and sun screen and also body glided my feet which felt hot after the downhill sections of North Talon. (The best part of the race is standing on top of North Talon and looking in all directions. I'm always tempted to stop and soak it in!) I started on the third loop which is a repeat of the first loop on the north side of the park. At this point I was all alone. I remembered from last time the mental struggle of running this loop alone after having so much to distract me the first time. God was very gracious to me. Early in the lap, I remembered my goal of having fun. I picked up the pace from the shuffle of the lonely, tired runner, and pushed into the pace of the joyful, playful runner enjoying a run in the mountains. I had such a good time, that even the occasional times of feeling overheated, didn't slow me too much. I prayed, I sang Irish songs that the children have been singing nonstop for the last two months, I laughed, and just enjoyed the day that God had made for me to practice the gift that He has given me to love running. After getting to the aid station, I pushed up the rest of the hill to the downhill and coasted in for a one hour and thirty-five minute third lap. It was just a few minutes slower than the first lap on that side. I was beginning to realize that I could possibly better my time from two years ago by a big margin. As I came through the aid station near the start and the drop bags, my husband who had started the race on a badly sprained ankle, came through the aid station having just finished his 25K. He decided to drop there rather than push on for more punishment on his painful ankle. We talked while I reapplied body glide to my foot then I was off to start the last loop and one more climb up North Talon. I was beginning to feel my quads especially on the downhill parts of the third loop, but my body was responding nicely. I'd had to take time to stretch my hamstrings early and often, but all was going okay to this point. I was also trading hands for the water bottle that I carried, in an attempt to take some stress off of my right side that had been tight from the beginning. I'd had pain in the right hip most of the race, but the stretching made it bearable. It was near the aid station on the way up, that I started to feel light headed. I drank extra water, took salt, and ate a gel. I was also getting small side aches in this section so think that I was having a difficult time breathing deeply on the downhills as my core was tired. If I concentrated on getting deep enough breaths, I felt better and kept the side aches at bay. I knew at this point that if I could run that loop in two hours, that I would beat my previous time by at least an hour and also beat the times that I'd thought were well beyond my ability to run. I concentrated on keeping the average time down with as much running as I could manage on the ups. I even noticed that when I did walk, that my body began running again on the easier sections without a mental decision to start running again. Everything was clicking. It was on one of these downhill sections that I thought to myself, that I'd rather just keep running the extra 20 miles to make it to 50 miles rather than have to do it another day in September. I felt that good, and my mental state was that positive. I was having a blast and was so thankful to God for the opportunity to run and enjoy His great creation. I made it to the top of the ridge once again. I'd been singing out loud this time so that the bears could hear me as I was mostly alone. On the third lap, I'd passed six runners. Usually, I run so fast at the beginning of races that many runners pass me at the end when I just can't run any faster. In my last lap, there was one runner who came up from behind and passed me. We played leap frog down the hill as I ran the down hills faster, but he caught me on the ups. He finally beat me by half a minute. At the top, I knew that there was only a 5k left. I started to push it, but pulled back so that I could run all the way home. I had 30 minutes to break the seven hour mark. My legs were starting to feel the fatigue and so I didn't push quite as hard as I maybe could have. At the aid station two miles out, I ate a gel, and filled my water bottle. I motored in with a way too fast sprint for the end of a 50K. My husband was there to greet m, and a kind young man took my chip. I stretched, and we headed home to the kids and Grandma. My final time was an hour and six minutes faster than last time. The final time was 7:04. I felt sore, but not unable to walk. Looking back, I might have been able to run it a bit faster, but I am super excited to have run a negative split for the course and to have been able mentally to enjoy the opportunity to run. If I can keep that mental approach in Steamboat in the fall, I will be thankful.