Get Off the Couch!

I recently joined the UltraList... an email chain of like-minded people who are into this crazy sport of ultra marathoning.  I mostly sit back and observe the list.  People tell tales of recent races.  Share training and racing tips.  Seek advice.  Being new to the list, and new to ultramarathons, I like to just listen and learn.  (Though this is really hard sometimes, because as you know, I do have a lot of opinions.)  This morning I opened an email titled "why I run".  The author shared the story of a recent run in a wilderness area and his encounter with some elk, and very close encounter with a mountain lion who happened to be stalking the elk.  His final words explained that at least now when someone asks why he runs, he will have a story to tell.  Because 'things like this just don't happen on my couch.' 

I loved his final point.  We don't live life sitting on the couch.  Life passes us by when we are idle.  Television is a mindless activity.  And yes, it can be entertaining, even educational at times.  But I don't want to live vicariously through the actors on television.  I want to create my own drama.  When we are out in the world, exploring, investigating, following our passions- that's when we are living.  That inspired me to share my favorite past time- trail running.  I really fell in love with trail running a year ago when I signed up for the Aravaipa Running DRT (desert runner trail) Series.  Having only ever run on one trail (I get lost very easily!) I used this series as a way to safely explore some other trails around the valley.  The series took us to 5 different parks, once a month over the fall and winter, to tackle 16-20 miles on some serious trails.  My average time for the series is longer than my marathon time.  But I loved every second of it (and I only got lost twice)!

In the past 4 weeks I have run 143 miles.  77 of those miles have been on trails.  That's pretty freakin' awesome.  I love running, and even more, I love running trails.  My weekends are scheduled around my 4:30 wake up call, 5 am departure, so I can be on the trails by 6 am.  What I enjoy most about trail running is the solitude.  There are no cars.  The only sounds I hear are my foot falls, my breathing and the occasional scuttle of an animal in the brush.  It's peaceful.  I can push myself as hard as I want, or I can just relax and run easy and enjoy the day.  And everyone on trails is in a good mood.  Whenever I pass a mountain biker, hiker or another runner there is ALWAYS a greeting from both parties.  Unlike when I run roads... and I get the "glare" after I offer up a cheerful "good morning".  Yet, for some reason, I cannot not greet everyone I pass!  You would think I could break this habit, but what can I say.  I am a Midwest girl at heart. 

The other great thing about running trails is the leg strength you develop.  On the road, I can shuffle along and not pay any attention to where my feet are.  Only on the rare occasion do I trip over an uneven bit of sidewalk.  On the trails, I have to pay constant attention to where my feet are.  I trip over everything if I slack off for even a moment.  I am hurdling logs, side stepping stones and avoiding cactus (cacti?) all while keeping my eye on the trail for my biggest fear- snakes. 

I've run trails in 3 different parks over the last month.  Of the 3 parks, each set of trails is different and provides unique ways to challenge your body.  The most recent run, Pass Mountain, I've run several times and always seem to block out how difficult it actually is.  For the first 2 1/2-3 miles of the loop, you are running over very rocky terrain, huge boulders at times, and mostly uphill.  Then you encounter a steep climb up the mountain on a rock face.  The climb is very short, but slows me to a hike every time.  Once you reach the peak, and have a chance to enjoy the view, you start the descent.  I am terrified of heights, and this descent gets me every time.  For a good 1- 1 1/2 miles, you are on a narrow sandy trail on the extreme edge of the mountain.  Eventually you drop inward and have some fantastic downhill running, while still testing your ability to dodge rocks.  With a 7.5 mile total, the loop is long enough to challenge, but not so long that it wipes you out.  I might even attempt a second loop next time!

As our weather turns to fall and the mornings are more bearable, I look forward to more time on my favorite trails.  Whatever your passion is, I encourage you to pursue it this season with your whole heart.  Life doesn't happen on the couch.  Get out there and live!

DRT #1: Cave Creek Thriller

I signed up for a Desert Runner Trail (DRT) series this winter staged by Aravaipa Running, a totally awesome group of folks in the local ultra scene. I am running a total of 5 races on different trails around the valley, varying in length from 25k - 32k. I thought it would be a good way to check out some new trails, which I might not be likely to do on my own given my propensity for getting lost. Also, I thought it would be a fun way to get some good run miles in over the winter. Keep my mileage up, but avoid the monotony of the roads. The first run was last weekend. I actually had to re-read my blog from last December to see which mistakes I repeated during this run.... there were several! Here's how it all went down:

Cave Creek Thriller 30k

We show up to said parking lot about an hour before the start, just in time to see the 50k runners take off. This is a new trail for me so I have no idea what I'm about to get into. What I do know is that we are running 3 x 10k loops. There is an aid station just over half way through, at about mile 4.

I make the decision to A) Run with handheld water bottle (See Mistake #4 from Trail 101, December 2009) and B) Run with a black T-shirt on (See Mistake #1 from Trail 101, December 2009). And though I did have the forethought to apply sunscreen underneath my black T, in anticipation of removing it, I neglected a few areas which I was reminded of when I jumped in the shower post race (See Mistake #2 from Trail 101, December 2009).

You might be asking yourself at this point if I have actually learned anything over the last year since I first began running trails. The answer is yes. I have learned not to worry about my time (I actually didn't even wear my Garmin) and I've learned to enjoy my surroundings in spite of my suffering.

So after an hour of chit chatting it's finally time to run. We line up loosely and at 8 AM someone says go, and we all charge across the timing mat. I'm doing OK, though my heart rate is way to high and I keep having to get over so other runners can pass me. Eventually we thin out and I'm all alone. The first 3 miles are pretty decent footing, though a bit rockier than the trail I'm used to. It's a lot of up and a little down. The 4th mile is a lot of down with some pretty terrible footing (like running through a rocky river bed) and I find I have to walk carefully to avoid twisting an ankle. Eventually I come upon the aid station. My bottle is still full at this point, so I grab a cup of Gatorade and keep moving. From the aid station to the finish is very runable, nice trail and a lot of downhill which is my personal fav. I cruise into transition after loop 1 in 1:12. About 5 minutes longer than what I was hoping for but I wasn't the least bit disappointed.

I peeled off my black T-shirt and tossed it into my gear bag, refilled my water bottle and took off again. This time, I tried to take it a little slower in the first two miles since I didn't have any other runners breathing down my neck. Around mile 2 or maybe just before (no Garmin so I actually have zero idea on distance) some mountain bikers warned me of a rattlesnake on the trail. The said they had marked the trail with orange tape so we'd know where to look. To be honest, there was no need for tape... I could hear the thing rattling from 50 meters off. It. Was. Pissed. It was coiled up on the right side of the trail with its tail rattling to beat the band. Thankfully, the guy running ahead of me let me catch up and we gave it a nice wide berth as we hiked up the hillside off trail to get around it. I survived my very first encounter with a rattlesnake. Of course after that I was convinced that there would be more so every time a hiker came from the other direction I'd ask how many snakes they had seen. The answer was always "none."

So at this point, I'm still feeling good, though my head is pounding from the heat. (I sooo do not tolerate heat well. I'm sure it didn't get above 85 all day but I was feelin' it nonetheless.) I started to feel a little low on sugar so I took my first gel. A few minutes later I was passing the aid station again and refilled my bottle, grabbed some Gatorade and kept pluggin' along. I enjoyed the last 2 1/2 mile again as I cruised into transition #2, finishing loop 2 in roughly 1:23. I knew this would be the toughest one to leave so I tried to be quick and not think about wanting to be finished. I refilled my bottle again, grabbed some salt capsules and a gel for the road. Off and running again.

The last loop would be my undoing. I was a bit slower going in the first 2 1/2 miles as my legs were now dead and I was tripping more frequently. I walked more of the uphills and tried to run the downs. Unfortunately, by mile 2 of the third loop (so mile 14 roughly) I had taken my last gel and was down to my last sip of water. I tried to ration my water a long as I could, but it was no use. My blood sugar was down. I was dehydrated. My head was still pounding. I was dizzy. I was bonking and the ship was sinking fast. I walked very slowly for about an hour before I finally came upon the aid station. I nearly cried. I had to sit down a few times when I thought I would pass out. I wanted my mommy. It was not pretty and I swear I will never make this mistake ever ever again. (I really mean it this time.)

When I stumbled into the aid station I shakily sat down in the volunteer's camp chair and the medic/ volunteer offered me some orange slices. I sat for about ten minutes while I took in water, Gatorade, oranges (lifesaver!!), bananas, and gummy worms. Once I felt like I could stand up without falling over, I started walking again. I was able to run quite a bit of the last 2 1/2 miles since it was a lot down hill, but after bonking like that, I wasn't feeling super strong anymore. It took me just under 2 hours to complete loop #3, a total of 4:33 for the entire 30k which is slow, but who the hell cares really? Not me. I still had fun. I still finished with a smile on my face. I still enjoyed my day.

Did I have some trials on the trail? You bet! But without a little suffering there is no reward. Would I still look at my finisher medal with as much pride if it had been easy? If it had been handed to me on a silver platter at the start line? No way. I earned that sucker. And every time I see it I'll remember my first rattlesnake, my second lesson in trail hydration strategies, and my three loops around Cave Creek Regional Park on a gorgeous Saturday in October.