Recovery Mode

I can run again!  After spending six weeks of Missoula's painfully short summer in one of those ugly walking shoe things (does anyone know what they're actually called?), my shoes match again.

So, this is how it played out: in mid-June, I hurt my foot.  I went to the doctor and they told me it was a stress fracture.  Sweet!  So, while I could kayak and take short walks, hiking, running, and pretty much anything that required the use of two working feet were out of the question.

After six weeks of not running, I went back to the doctor and he told me I could start again, but only for 15 minutes at a time and only if I alternated running and walking.  My last good long run was 22 miles and took a lot longer than 15 minutes.  But whatever, I no longer had to say, "Hey Sam, have you seen my left ballet flat?  No, I don't need the right one."

I ran one mile for the first time and felt completely out of shape.  A few days later, I did two miles.  It took almost twice as long as normal, but I was grateful.

A few days after that, I pinched a nerve in my right hip.  It sort of feels like being electrocuted, but with fire, if that makes sense.  And then I got food poisoning.  So, for a solid week, I laid on an ice pack, took pills for the inflammation, and got sick a lot.  I have this theory that my body was rebelling against its impending jump into the next decade by falling apart.

Now that we're midway through August, I'm feeling like a person again.  Despite a sometimes shaky summer, it was a good one.  My best friend in the whole world, Tami, came to visit.  I learned how to paddleboard and kayak, I found a beer I actually like, and I learned that I really truly love running.  It's my outlet and I was a mess without it.

I have physical therapy to do and I'm taking it slow.  I can run/walk two miles and I'm working up to doing that three days a week.  I've also added in cross training because I've read that it can help with injury prevention.  And, much more slowly, I'm working on nutrition.

I have no races on the horizon and I'm looking forward to some nice autumn running.  But come spring, I'll have my racing shoes on.

A PR and a Fractured Foot

I ran the Pengelly Single Dip last year and it reminded me to be grateful to this sport I love so much and for my ability to participate and endure it.  I remember getting to the race and thinking I didn't quite fit in with the other athletes.  It was like when I first started running and felt like an imposter.  But I found my zone and it became my favorite race of 2013.

This year I was excited rather than nervous for the race.  I'd made the route one of my regulars and I knew I could run it strong.

We started off for the base of Mt. Sentinel and slogged up the side of the mountain, already feeling the heat of the day (my nemesis).  I took it slow until I made it down the fire road.  Remember running around as a kid, those times when you just went as fast as you could?  As I came around a turn, I decided to do that.  I just wanted to have fun, so I stopped pacing and ran as fast as I could down the trail.

I passed people, jumped over the dips in the trail, and had a blast.  I let go of all the training and seriousness of trying to maintain X minutes per mile.  I slowed down again once I reached the road, but for those few minutes on the mountain I felt free.

Sam met me at the finish and we watched the Douple Dip finishers and sat in the grass.  I checked my time and saw that I had PRd.  It felt pretty damn good.

Pengelly Single Dip 2014

A little over a week later, I fractured my foot.

I woke up that morning and my foot felt sore, but it felt like the regular soreness of marathon training.  I figured it would fade like the other various kinks do once you start your day.

When Sam and I started, it was drizzling, which was a good thing.  Without having to deal with the heat, the run should have gone mostly smoothly.  A few miles in, I told Sam I was uncomfortable.  I adjusted my stride and tried to take it slow and steady.  It started to rain harder, but I like running in the rain.  My foot still hurt.

At 16 miles in, I had to stop.  I stretched my foot out and tried to put on a brave face.  I told Sam it felt like if I were to take off my shoe and sock, my foot would be black and blue.  But, yes I was fine and yes I wanted to keep going. 

At 17 miles in, I had to stop again.  I'm not a person that cries when I get hurt, I'm more of a suck it up type.  So, I stood there with Sam in the rain and held back tears.  He asked me what I wanted to do and I said that I didn't know, that I wanted to keep going, maybe.  I told him I didn't feel rational.  Could he just decide and I'd do what he said?  He said let's quit and I said two more miles.  Like it would resolve itself in that distance.

So we did two more miles and went home.  When I took off my shoe, my foot was red and swollen.  I couldn't even touch it to the ground, it hurt so bad.  We iced it and I felt stupid, but I cried.

I hoped it was minor and would heal on it's own, but after two weeks of limping around, it didn't.  I went to a specialist, they took x-rays, and told me that it was a stress fracture.  Goodbye first marathon, hello ugly black shoe.

My new nemesis

At the moment, I'm mid-way through the healing process.  I haven't run in almost a month and I'm ready to pull my hair out.  My foot doesn't hurt anymore, but I know it's still healing.  And the fear of re-injuring it worse is enough to keep me out of my running shoes.  Sam and I go on short walks and we kayak and try to stay active, but it's not the same. 

It made me realize something - I'm not, and never was, an imposter.  My race times never mattered.  I woke up before dawn, ate the bagels, and put in the miles just like other runners.  And I miss it.

But watch for the neon shoes, I'll be back soon. 

Mercury and Mercury

For the first time ever, I have officially run through a pair of shoes.  My first blog post ever was about retiring some old Nikes for these, my highlighter pink running shoes that I called The New Girls.

Saucony ProGrid Guide 6, brand-spankin-new.

And a couple after shots:

Crossing a teeny bridge in Big Sur, CA this summer.

Big Sur, CA. Shoes are much dirtier, but no less spankin.

I went back to The Runner's Edge, since they were pretty awesome the first time I bought shoes there and decided to stick with the Saucony Guide 6.  I named the new ones Mercury, though I was informed each shoe should have its own name.  I can't think of anything that goes with Mercury though.

Three generations.

I trained for and ran five races, including a half marathon, in my pink shoes.  I can't get rid of them.  I've already made peace with the fact that my running shoes will one day take over my house.  It's cool, everyone knows runners be crazy.

Running on the Fly

Do you have one of those runner friends that can talk about running all day?  Is that person possibly me?  I promise when I'm talking about knee anatomy and injury prevention, I'm not trying to be a smarty pants.  But if you ask a question, I can and will ramble on forever.

When I was a newbie to the sport, I had a lot of questions and I Googled a lot of things.  I asked the kind people at The Runner's Edge here in Missoula and the very limited number of people I knew that also ran.

And now I know some stuff and I want to share a bit of the running dictionary I've pulled together along the way.

Running on the Fly Part Two: Terms that make you go, huh?

5K - Any race that equals 3.1 miles.  K stands for kilometer, which is 1,000 meters.

10K - Any race that equals 6.2 miles.

Bonk - Basically, it's when you feel like you're gonna die if you go any further.  It happens when your body has run out of glycogen to burn.  Instead, it looks to fat and protein, but converting that to energy takes longer and gives you that I'm-going-to-fall-down feeling.  Carbs are a runner's friend!

Chip time vs gun time - Your chip is a little timing device set with your specific info.  You attach it to your shoe and it records the time you cross the starting and finishing line.  The gun time is the time the race starts.  If you've ever done a race with a lot of people, you know that you don't necessarily cross the starting line in the same second the gun goes off.  Chip time can be a few seconds to a few minutes faster than your gun time.

Fartlek - A form of training where you mix slow running with fast bursts of speed for any distance you'd like.  And yes, it's pronounced the way it looks.

Half marathon - Any race that equals 13.1 miles.

Lactic acid - You know how sometimes the day after hard exercise, you don't want to move because it hurts so bad?  It's because of lactic acid.  It builds up in your muscles when there is an incomplete breakdown of glucose during exercise.

LSD - Not the drug.  It means long, slow distance.  It's where you do a long run/race at a slower pace, can be helpful for endurance.

Marathon - Any race that equals 26.2 miles.

PR - Personal record.

Shin splints - Pain in the length of your shin, can be caused by running on hard surfaces.  Rest and/or cross training for a few days is usually a good idea if you have shin splints.  If the pain is severe or doesn't go away, see a doctor!

Split time - How long it takes you to run a certain distance over the course of a longer run.  For example, my last split at mile three of a five mile run was 25 minutes.

Ultra - Any race that is longer than a marathon.

VO2 max - The maximum amount of oxygen your body can take in and use.

I feel like I should be wearing my glasses.  Anyway, I hope that was helpful and I swear I didn't make anything up!

The Race I Trained For

"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." 

- A.A. Milne

I started training for the Missoula Half Marathon in March.  I always use a spreadsheet when I'm training because I get a little obsessive and also, I like to cross off each day's workout with a different colored marker.  

Code that only partially makes sense.

The carb loading began about three days before the race, or if I'm being honest it started about ten years ago.  I got a good nights rest two days before the race and tried to sleep the night before.  Side note: Does anyone else have weird dreams the night before a big race?  I dreamed that I was in this huge crowd and the race was over; I didn't know my time or anything.  I'd run, but totally missed the experience.  Telling, no?

I woke up at 3 a.m. and made breakfast.  I can't even describe how much thought went into a bagel with peanut butter, an apple, and a smoothie.  Sam came over (he slept elsewhere because I live in a studio apartment and was going to bed at 7pm on a Saturday) and helped me with my chip and bib.

Sam drove me to the shuttle stop downtown and we said goodbye before I joined the several hundred runners already in line.  I chatted with a woman with princess stickers on her hat and saw the shortest pair of shorts I've ever seen on a man, even as a runner.

Heard on the shuttle: "Welcome to the south Missoula refugee camp."

Thirty minutes before the start I got in the giant line for the port-o-potties, peeled off my jacket, stretched, and had a gel.  Then it was time to line up.

We had a moment of silence to remember Boston, to remember why we run and who we run for.  

After another minute, we were off.

I started slow, but strong, and stayed that way.  I let the fast starters go ahead of me instead of trying to keep up with them and bonking later.  I kept a mostly straight line instead of weaving around people.  I listened to the pounding of feet, my own breathing, and the conversations (woman to her husband at mile one: "I can already tell I'm going to have to pee." Husband: "There's lots of trees off to your left, just go.")

It's all smiles when you're only six minutes in!

A short way past the mile three marker, I realized I'd run a 5K without slowing down.  At mile five, I had half a gel and had the same realization.  At mile nine, I had the last half of my gel.  It was the longest distance I'd ever run without having to slow to walk once.  In retrospect, it kind of made me think of that part in Forrest Gump where he talks about running and how he might as well keep on going.

I surprised myself.  This past year I've been wrapped up in my struggle for speed and I never stopped to think about strength.  Every mile marker I ran past surprised me.  How was I still running at this pace?  How have I not had to walk?  How have I kept going all this time?

It's a heady thing to know, not to believe but to actually know, that you are stronger than you think you are.  It made all the training, the injuries, the time spent alone on the trails at 6 a.m. worth it.  I worked damn hard and every minute of it was worth it.

Law enforcement running to commemorate a fallen officer.

I had a few little goals for this race: to run the second half faster than the first, to not have to stop to pee (I had to stop last year and it has irritated me to no end ever since), and to enjoy it.  I had no time goal; I just wanted to run strong.  I ran the second half of the race 9 seconds faster per mile than the first half and ran right by every single port-o-potty!

Ultimately, I ran 5 minutes slower than I did last year, but didn't care.  I loved the experience and knowing that I'm stronger than I was last year.

Goals accomplished and on to the Big Sur Half Marathon in November!

And now a few more pictures from marathon weekend:

Goodies from the expo.

Half marathon finishers flyin'.

Top men's finisher in the marathon, Jason Delaney.

Finishing strong.

Run like a girl!

Running the Mountain

"Don't take this for granite."

- David Pengelly

The Pengelly Double and Single Dip is the only race I've heard of that gives out growlers instead of t-shirts.  It's because you're going to need it.

2013 Pengelly Double Dip Races, 10 Years Old and Not Getting any Easier

The Double Dip is a half marathon that covers ground on both Mount Sentinel and University Mountain.  Also, there's that little matter of a 2700 ft. elevation gain.

The Single Dip, which I ran, is a 10K that starts with a short run to a steep climb up the face of Mount Sentinel.  The view of Missoula is beautiful, but you have to get there first.

Mount Sentinel

This was a race I had to do some training for.  I would make mid-week attempts at running up Sentinel, followed by running up and down stairs to recover.  I did okay if you didn't count the wheezing at the end.

I was nervous enough about this race that the night before it I actually had the thought, "I could just not go."  But I had registered and worked pretty damn hard, so I was going.  This was going to be my bragging rights race.  I'd never run it before and had no time goals.  My goals were this: finish the race and don't fall down.

Sam and I got to the starting area on a sunny and bright Saturday morning.  I have a bad time psyching myself out so I thought, "Crap, it's gonna be too hot, I should have worn shorts," and "Good Lord, everyone here is in really good shape."  A woman walked past me in a sports bra and shorts while I hugged my new growler and hoped to get through this.

The Dip races are smaller than a typical road race because we're insane and also because the Double is capped at 200 runners.  So when we lined up I was suspiciously close to the front.  Before I knew it, the gun fired and we were off.

I ran to the base of Sentinel too fast, always my problem.  But I more than ate up time on the power hike up the trail.  I could hear the wind and the sound of people breathing hard.  One of the runners had a watch that talked; it told her (and everyone nearby) the distance and current pace.  Most of us were quiet, concentrating on the grade of the trail and our next step.  The guy behind me tripped and fell and we all paused to help.  He dusted off his knees and laughed.

Once we made the turn that would take us to the fire road and the longer trek down the mountain, people sped up.  They started talking, laughing.  The volunteers pointed us in the right direction and cheered.  I thought, "Okay, that was the hard part.  Just five miles left to go and I didn't have a heart attack.  This is good."

I tripped on a rock, but stayed on my feet.  I reached the rolling fire road that cuts a downward diagonal across Sentinel and there were butterflies on the trail.

This was the point where I finally hit my zone.  My nerves were gone and in its place was overwhelming gratitude.  I get to live here and I get to do this.  This is why I run.

I tried to remember everything.  The way the breeze felt and the happy look of the volunteers at the water station.  On the final downhill I learned the funny, half scary feeling of "controlled falling."

When I got off the trail, it felt weird being on a road again.  The breeze dissipated and I got hot.  It slowed me down a little, but I didn't mind.  When I got to the last hundred yards, I was spent.  It was a good race.

Closing in on the finish

The Pengelly Double and Single Dip honors David Pengelly, an accomplished climber and fellow Missoulian who passed away in 2003.  I like to think that his favorite saying, etched into a rock on the Pengelly Ridge Trail, was about gratitude.

I was grateful to run this race and for those few miles where I could stop taking it all so seriously.  I was grateful that I only tripped once and that the volunteers told us exactly which way to go because I worry about getting lost.  I'm grateful for the people that make these races happen.  And I'm grateful for the growler, which Sam has enjoyed very much.

The growler is mine, the beer is for Sam

 Next up - The Missoula Half Marathon in July!

Ticks and Training Updates

I'm officially registered for two half marathons this year, the Missoula Marathon/Half Marathon and the Big Sur Half Marathon (which I've been flirting with for months now).  The Big Sur half is in my home state of California, in a city I may very well be moving to in the next year.

Monterey, CA.  Oh, the pretty prettiness.

My next race is the YMCA Riverbank Run on May 11th.  I'm running the 5K and I don't want to say that I'm going for a PR, but I know I can run it faster than I ran Run For the Luck of It last month.

Since that race, my training has been going really well - nothing motivates quite like a couple of halfs in the pipeline.  I think (hope) I've rebounded at a good pace since my little (ahem: 5 month) training hiatus.  I did my first six mile run on Monday after work and, despite being tired and grouchy, I felt great afterward.  Because running does that.

My boyfriend, Sam, and I have also been hiking Waterworks Hill, Mt. Sentinel, and Mt. Jumbo (all Missoula based hiking trails) a couple of times a week and doing core work together.  Neither of us can stand to be indoors when the weather is nice; I think we're solar powered.

Hiking on Waterworks Hill

Anyway, what I didn't know was that spring is tick season.  Warning: having a tick fall out of your hair and onto your neck in the grocery store may cause nuclear meltdown.  Please take universal precautions.  Also, can humans use Frontline?  No?  What about Advantix?

I washed and combed through my hair like I was looking for lice (or greys), and then did the same to Sam (the combing, not the hair washing).  That night, nightmares about ticks on my pillow had me waking up every couple of hours to check.  Do I know how to make things into an event, or what?

Lesson: stay off Mt. Sentinel for the time being.  Also, don't use tick medication meant for your pets.

Race Recap: Getting Over a Not So Good One

I have a confession to make: after my half marathon this past summer, my running got sloppy.

I was so happy. I had done it!  Now I had no race to train for and was more than willing to take a little break.  It was supposed to be one, maybe two, weeks off from running.

And I had no shortage of things to take up my time.  It was summer and I had a new boyfriend, Sam.  Life was good.  I spent time at Flathead Lake and hiking in the woods.  I went to Arizona for a trip to Lake Mead with my family.  I watched my boyfriend's band play and planned a trip to Oregon.  I did everything except run.

Oh, I didn't give up entirely.  There was a sporadic couple of days in a row here and there.  But without a race to train for and a budding social life, running went on the back-burner.

Time passed, and then a little more time passed.

The days (and free time to run) got shorter.  I was spending more time at work and less time outside.  The lack of daylight depressed me and made me less likely to run.  I didn't want to do anything.  The less I saw daylight, the less I wanted to do anything.

It wasn't until early February that things started to get back on track.  That's when I started this blog to help keep myself motivated and to share my love of running.  Because I really do love it, slump or not.

Anyway, on to my first race of the year.  Run for the Luck of It was the first of several races I have planned this year.  It's fun, people dress up and there's free food and beer.  The Celtic Dragon pipe band plays and everyone has a good time.

Celtic Dragon pipe band

 But I was nervous.  I was psyching myself out, I could feel it.  But this was just a 5K!  It's supposed to be fun!  My friends were talking about how I was going to smoke it, get a PR, leave people in the dust. 

The days leading up to the race, I kept thinking PR, PR, PR.  And more realistically, I thought - if I finish under 30 minutes, I'll be happy.  I didn't want to say that to anyone because I knew they'd be thinking what I was thinking, you can go way faster than that.

I got ready on race day in my shamrock shorts and socks.  Sam and I watched the seven milers take off.  We watched the pipe band play and chatted with friends until I had to line up.

They ran the whole race with that giant rainbow.

The gun went off before I was ready and it set the tone for the race.  My head wasn't in it; I couldn't focus and it showed.  My form and pace were sloppy.  I was too focused on my fall/winter running slump.  After two miles, people started passing me.  I finished in 31:59, my slowest 5K since the one I walked two years ago.

The morning after the race, I went for a run on my favorite route, a 3.2 mile loop along the Clark Fork river.  My pace and cadence were smooth, my thoughts uncluttered.  I paid no attention to how long it took to complete it.  I remembered that I loved running.  I understood that I couldn't expect a PR on my first race back from such a long hiatus and that it wasn't my body that failed me, but my mind.

Stayin' positive!

 My ego is still a little wounded, but I'm getting there. 

And one other thing, a bad run is still better than a day stuck inside.

Not Getting Hit by Cars

I did my first day of half marathon training this week.  My schedule works like this: I do shorter runs (up to five miles) Friday - Sunday, and then my long run on Monday.  I don't work on Monday, it's a wonderful thing.  On Tuesday - Thursday, I do some basic core work.

But my spreadsheet - yep, I made a spreadsheet - starts the week on Monday.  So, for the hell of it, I put a 4 mile run in the first Monday slot as the very first day of training.

The run was slow and I felt off.  I'm not sure if the patches of ice on the sidewalks were a factor, but it wasn't my best run regardless.  And I was almost hit by a car right off the bat, which is never a good omen.

This is what happened: I was running down the one street I have to take to get to my route and there's a McDonald's that I pass.  The drive-thru exit is sometimes tricky, people are on their phones, checking their food, etc.  Anyway, two kids were stopped a few yards from where one would stop before pulling out into traffic.  I saw them not seeing me so I slowed down to see what they would do.

The kid hit the gas and then braked hard at the edge of the exit, a few inches ahead of me.  I jumped back and the passenger looked at me; the driver had not seen me.

The passenger mouthed sorry to me and said something to his driver friend.  Driver friend still didn't look my way.  Passenger looked at me again and I asked if I could go.  He gestured to go ahead, a split second before the driver flew out into traffic without so much as a glance in my direction.  I really hope the passenger called him an idiot, because he was.

Don't you learn in Kindergarten to look both ways when there is traffic?  Shouldn't that apply when you're driving?

After that, I had trouble getting into a rhythm.  I was distracted by my thoughts and trying to pay attention to all the drivers (this particular route takes me around the University campus, lots of vehicles).

So...

DRIVERS: PAY ATTENTION!!!

I count myself lucky that I've never been so much as bumped by a car, but I've come close and my route only takes me through a single intersection.

At this point, I've been running long enough to know that I have to pay rigorous attention to people on the road.  But I shouldn't have to pay attention for the both of us.  When you're driving, you have one job - to drive safely.  My life is way more important than a text about how bored you are or how awesome that party was last night.

The Athletic Evolution of Ashley

I signed up for my first race of 2013, Run for the Luck of It, a very fun, very green, St. Patrick's Day 5K.  I like to use it as a base time because it coincides nicely with the beginning of my half marathon training.  I do another 5K in late April and I love seeing the seconds or minutes shaved off that base time as my training progresses.

Anyway, the first time I ever ran the St. Pat's race, I didn't run, I walked.  It took something like 45 minutes.  I ran the last 50'ish yards to make it look like I wasn't taking an early spring stroll through the course.

I wanted to be a runner, but I felt like an imposter.  I would go out and try a mile or two and I couldn't catch my breath, my legs were stiff and my sides cramped.  Other runners, better runners, blurred by in their tights and shirts from marathons they completed while I stood, hacking and coughing in heavy sweats.

My Wii Fit (I type this with no irony whatsoever) told me I was overweight in its high pitched little robot voice.  I'd sigh and think, yeah, I'm freaking aware of the situation.  I wasn't hugely overweight, but I was bigger than I'd ever been and unhappy.

 

That's me on the right with the glasses.  I was the funny, smart one.  I felt like the one the guys walked past to get to my beautiful best friends.

Run for the Luck of It 2011

Not long after the race I walked instead of ran, my life changed.  I started living alone for the first time in my life and I was lonely.  I'd lost friends to distance and the end of a long term relationship.

What I did have were an old pair of running shoes and slightly flooded running pants.  I had nothing to do, so I ran.  I mapped out a 3 mile loop and pushed myself through it.  It hurt, so the next day I did it again.

I started running two or three times a week at that distance.  It started to hurt less, or maybe it hurt the same but I started to like it.  I mapped out a 5 mile loop and started doing that too. 

In a small burst of body confidence, I bought running tights, a proper sports bra, and a running shirt.  But I didn't really care about my weight or how I looked in the new clothes.  In fact, that whole year I was weighed three times, twice by doctors and once by myself to make sure the doctors were right.

I started using terms like cross training and negative split times.  I did yoga in my apartment on Sunday mornings.  I started feeling strong.

Run for the Luck of It 2012, with Jim.  He's faster than everyone.

In 2012, I ran Run for the Luck of It in 28 minutes, 14 seconds. A month later, I ran another 5K in 27 minutes, 30 seconds, a PR for me.

I started hiking and running on trails when the weather was nice.  I kept a promise to myself and signed up for my first half marathon.  It made me nervous, terrified actually.  I started thinking those imposter thoughts again.  I didn't set any time goals, I just wanted to finish.  I set up a training schedule and stuck to it, mostly out of fear of what would happen if I didn't.

Hiking in Missoula, MT 2012.  Two months before my first half marathon.

My longs runs got longer.  One afternoon, I ran 10 miles in the pouring rain and it occurred to me - I'm a runner because I run.  People weren't looking at me and saying, hey, what are you doing out here with us?  The other runners were nice, most of them smiled and waved hello.  I realized there was a lot of camaraderie to be had in a sport that was solitary by nature.

We runners are a strange bunch.  Unless we're one of the select few with major sponsors, we actually pay to do this.  We pay for the shoes and the races, the watches and sometimes, the trips to the physical therapist.

I don't know about everyone else, but I run because I have to.  I've learned more about myself by running than I have by doing anything else.  I learned that pushing forward starts with your mind, I learned to like the pain, to breathe.  I learned that bad days can be erased by great runs.  I learned that the silence on a good trail has a feel.  I learned what the words "dig deep" really mean and that this, this small part of my life so far, matters because it matters to me.

Missoula Marathon/Half Marathon 2012