One Runner's Heart

Sherry Arnold

2012-02-14T10:33:00.000-08:00

This weekend I heard the story of Sherry Arnold, a Montana teacher who was abducted on her morning run in January and who is now "believed to be murdered." I can't seem to get her out of my head...

I usually don't use this blog as a journal about what is new in the World of Runners, but in this case, I am making an exception. Her story is worthy of attention and reflection from all of us who care about women and the sport of running.

When I first heard her story, I felt goosebumps cover my whole body and tears fill my eyes. I am sad for her, for her family, for her community, and frankly, for all female runners out there who fear their morning runs now because they might share a similar fate to Sherry. And I have to admit, I feel that fear on some level.

You see, I grew up with a very protective mother who warned me about the dangers of life - everything from turbulent water in the ditch below our house to the hazards of wearing earrings while playing sports to the sick actions of of kidnappers and rapists. I grew up fearing being alone. But before you judge Mom, please reconsider. Her lessons kept me safe, and I have learned to trust my instincts about dark alleys and creepy men.

But running has been a liberating activity for me; it has been an activity that has slowly gotten me more comfortable with being alone. I have run on Moscow Mountain alone and experienced nature in a way I never had before. (I also went on a couple of solo road trips/camping trips in the past few years that I never would have had the guts to go on without running.) I have also run on the paths of Pullman at night and in the dark fields of UI, feeling secure because of my reflective gear and the small, pink pepper-spray canister I keep on my hip. I use good judgement about where I run and make sure someone always knows where I am and when I will be back. But this story... well, it pretty much sums up my worst fears and gives me reason to protect myself more and not go out there on the trails, roads, and paths alone. I don't want to end up like Sherry. I mean, I enjoy running, but I don't want someone to come across my shoe on the side of a road...I don't want hundreds of people searching for my lifeless (and probably very abused) body.

I don't want to live in fear; I want to be safe. But I don't necessarily want to ALWAYS have to be with a big, strong man who can protect me from the scumbags of the world.

So what's the answer? What do the female runners of the world do now? How should we feel? What responsibility - if any - do the male runners who share our trails have to us? I'm feeling reflective today and welcome any thoughts you have.

<3

Rock Lake

2012-02-13T15:43:00.001-08:00

This weekend I did a 5.5-mile walk-and-jog on the trail around Rock Lake near St. John, WA. I took a bunch of pictures and one video, which admittedly isn't very good, but I figure it will be fun to look back on when I am 90 years old. So here it is:

The day was overcast and cold, and the trail was clear and the the scenery picturesque.

It was a good day for a jog.

<3

Pullman Winter Ultra Series 2011-2012

2012-01-18T11:42:00.000-08:00

This is the second year that I have co-directed this group run, and it was definitely a success. Last year's first race only had eight runners and grew to twenty-two by the end of the winter. This year we had forty participants on the December run and forty-four in January! It was pretty cool seeing so many people who wanted to get together and run on a Saturday morning - not for medals or t-shirts but for the fun of it.

Last year my best time for the 7.75-mile loop was 1:37:48. This year I beat my time by 48 seconds, which I am pleased with since I have not been training. Before the race I thought I would just walk most of the loop, but after my first couple of 11-minute miles, I thought that I might have a record in me, so I ran harder than I planned. Of course, I still walked up the hill by Schweitzer and the hill by the golf course, because, sheesh, those hills feel bigger and steeper than they look.

This weekend was also going to be my first 25K, or two 7.75-mile loops. I wasn't feeling 100%, so I decided that I would be okay with not attempting my first 25K if I beat my December time. Thankfully, I came in at 1:35:36, which is a 12:20 pace. (And my RunKeeper app said that I ran 7.82 miles at a 12:13 pace, which is even cooler...especially since I had to wait at the light to cross the Moscow/Pullman highway.)

I was pleased by my time and amazed at how strong my legs felt (even though my body felt achy and fevered). I hope to be motivated to run my first 25K in 2012.

<3

New Year's Eve 5K

2012-01-09T13:37:00.000-08:00

How come I seem to have so much trouble getting to races on time?

On the morning of the last day of 2011, I felt really laid back. My friends signed up for a marathon that morning, and just to be a joiner (and to get another state crossed off my race list), I was going to run the 5K. Their race started at 8 AM, and I was under the impression that mine did not start until 9:30. So, as they got ready for their race, I casually took pictures, wandered around, and planned when the best time would be for me to find a little spot on the grass, eat my banana, drink my 5-hour energy, and play a little Scrabble on my iPhone before my race. I knew I had plenty of time to eat, recreate, use the restroom, and check all of my bags (and those of my companions) at the bag-check tent. At 7:55, or so, they got into their corrals, and I, again, played photographer.
I'm not exactly sure what I did for the next 20 minutes or so, but I distinctly remember hearing the following message over the loud speaker: "Final call for the 5K! All racers should be at the starting line. We will begin in 2 minutes!"

WHAT!?!

My heart started pounding, and I frantically stripped down to my capris and short-sleeved shirt. I threw my earmuffs, scarf, jacket, and sweat pants into a plastic grocery bag and searched for my race number.

"One minute warning for the 5K!"

EEK! I didn't have time to fill out any name tags for the bag check, and I am sure I looked like a crazy person as I threw my bags down by the tent and blurted out something about being late and that my name was Annie. I sprinted to the starting line just as the gun went off.

In the first quarter mile, I managed to put my race number on, even though I had lost one of my safety pins in the shuffle. I ran without my iPod or my Garmin or my RunKeeper app (they were in the grocery bag), and I distinctly remember thinking 1) I hope no one steals the bags, and 2) this is not the first time that I nearly missed a race. :)

The race itself was fine. It was a flat course that made its way around a park in one direction, and then we turned around and ran back to the starting line. I figured that I was running at about an 11 or 12-minute pace, which I was happy enough with since I spent nearly all of my Christmas break eating and not running.

I ended up finishing the race in 33:46, which is a 10:49 pace. Looking back, I bet I could have run faster, but I am actually pretty happy that I started when I was supposed to - in spite of everything - and that nothing was stolen from my bags. :) Good, funny day.

<3

Forgotten Photos

2011-12-04T15:20:00.000-08:00

Here are three pictures that I have had on my desktop that I planned to put in my next running blog and never got around to it. Enjoy!

On Moscow Mountain

Thanks for sending me this photo, Amy :)

Pullman at Sunset

Snow's Here

2011-12-01T14:55:00.000-08:00

It is cold on the Palouse, and my runs on Moscow Mountain this year are numbered. This is what my Sunday long run looked like:

Slow 5.4 miles

Moose Tracks

Looking forward to the spring already.

<3

Turkey Trot 2011

2011-11-29T14:23:00.000-08:00

On November 19, I went down to Lewiston for the Seaport Striders Turkey Trot. I wasn't planning to participate in the event, but multiple Beer Chasers were headed down, so I did too.

The event started at 10 AM. By 9:55 I had decided that I was going to run it. Standing on the sidelines in 30-degree temperatures didn't sound like fun. But I had a problem: I was wearing jeans.

"Oh well. It isn't like I was planning on breaking any records today," I thought, as I emptied out my change purse, searching for enough dimes and nickels to cover the steep $1 race entry fee.

At 10:02 we pulled into the parking lot and saw the racers bound from the starting line.

"Oh well. It isn't like I was planning on breaking any records today."

I put the loose change into my pockets and jumped onto the Greenbelt trail. Before I knew it, I was passing the walkers and the slow joggers with baby strollers. And within 10 minutes, I was all by myself in no-man's-land, the wide section that separates the fast runners and the walkers. For nearly 2.5 miles, I was by myself and keeping a 12:30 pace.

With a mile to go, I saw Scott and Sadie barreling towards me; they had finished the race long before I, and they were coming back my way to check on Denim McGoofball (the Denim Bullet? Flash McDenim...) I was doing fine, despite my attire.

At about 3.5 miles, Ben (another Beer Chaser) joined us to run to the finish. I finished in just about 49 minutes flat.

Though I know it is kind of silly, I was disappointed that I couldn't register post-race and that the drawings for the turkeys and pies were already finished. I went back to Pullman with my pocket full of nickels and no turkey. :(

I don't have any pictures of me running in jeans, but I did take this one photo of the course:

Getting Motivated

2011-10-18T15:31:00.000-07:00

Lately, I have been on a lot of good runs:

On Private Lands Bridge Trail, Moscow Mountain

By the water tower, above Pullman

Running down the hill by the water tower (I love this picture...)

On Kamiak Butte

A fishing boat on Rock Lake

Power poles above Rock Lake

Picture perfect - Rock Lake, WA

But lately, I haven't been super-stoked to leave work early to get on the trails. That is not to say that I am done running or anything like that; instead, it means that I need to find some more energy for it and renew my motivation for running and fitness as a whole.

I've heard that the best way to motivate oneself is to sign up for races. And I am doing that; I am running the Pullman Winter Ultra Series and a 5K on New Year's Eve. I'm also planning to stay involved in my running club and keep hitting the trails (and pavement) after work most days.

I think I am also going to shake up my fitness routine a bit in hopes that it will help my energy and motivation. Today I looked into the Zumba classes offered in my community, and I figure that taking one might be just what my fitness routine needs. At the very least, I am going to show up for the first day of class and see if I am just way too far out of my element (I am not very coordinated and have no experience dancing). It starts November 1.

Wish me luck.

<3

Kamiak Trail Series 2011

2011-10-13T16:29:00.000-07:00

Every other Tuesday, from mid-April to the end of September, I participated in (and co-coordinated) the Kamiak Trail Series. The website describes the event as follows: "The Kamiak Loop Time Trials is a fun, tough, bi-weekly trail racing series set above the beautiful Palouse of southeastern Washington and north-central Idaho. [...] We want to provide a venue for trail runners to get together for a fun, run-as-fast-as-you-can, midweek run on a beautiful and challenging 2.25 mile trail."

Every other week, we changed the direction of the loop; on the first day of the event (April 12), we ran the loop counterclockwise, which consisted of running up the more gradual side of the butte and then running down the (really) steep side. And then the next week, we ran it clockwise and hiked up the steep side.

It is a very challenging course even though it is only 2.25 miles long!

At the beginning of the series, I got it in my head that I was going to shoot for a sub-30 minute loop by the end of the summer. My goal was completely arbitrary, but I liked round numbers, and it didn't seem out of the question since a few of the regular participants were able to do the loop in under 20 minutes. So, I got it in my head that I had to beat my time each week - no matter what.

Well... I learned a couple of important lessons in attempting to keep this deal with myself:

1) Setting goals creates good motivation for improvement. I improved a lot by the end of the series. I am glad that I pushed myself to improve, and I felt like I had a lot of support - from friends who enthusiastically asked me whether I beat my time. Yay goals! Yay friends!

2) Goals need to be realistic and somewhat flexible. When I set my goal, I didn't do so for any other reason than I liked the number 30. And on top of that, I didn't know that I would have two nasal surgeries and a long recovery. These things should have been taken into consideration... because without flexibility, one might cry after a particular race - oh, like maybe on August 16 - because one did not beat her last time. :(

Here are my race times in each direction:

Counter-clockwise:
42:04 - April 12
36:41 - May 10
34:11 - June 7
33:25 - July 5
32:27 - August 30
31:57 - September 27

Clockwise:
39:01 - April 26
35:02 - May 24
32:35 - June 21
31:42 - July 19
32:48 - August 16
32:56 - September 13

I had a great time running, enjoying the amazing views on Kamiak, and BBQing with friends after the race. In a way, I am kind of sad that the Series is over for the year. But on the other hand, it is kind of nice not to have as many running-related time commitments; between Beer Chasers every Wednesday, weekend races, the Beer Mile, the Pullman Winter Ultras, and daily runs, I'm feeling like I am stretched pretty thin. I'd like a little more time to just sleep in and go fishin'. :)

<3

Wild Moose Chase Trail Run

2011-10-13T15:38:00.000-07:00

On September 24, I ran a 10K called the Wild Moose Chase Trail Run. The race took place in the Mt. Spokane State Park and started at the Selkirk Lodge (a cross-country skiing lodge, which had running toilets! - a luxury for most races).

The race was fun, and the course was pretty difficult.... hmmm, what else can I say?...

I suppose I don't have a whole lot to say about the race because the primary feeling that I had after the race was that I shouldn't have run it in the first place. My nose is still giving me trouble, and because of it, I am not in the kind of shape that I could be. I knew I wouldn't PR and the race cost $40, but I couldn't help myself and signed up the morning of the event "just because," I suppose.

I hiked and walked the uphills and ran the downhills, and tried to ignore my nose and focus on the beauty surrounding me. (It really is a beautiful area.)

And at about an hour in, I came upon another runner that I ended up befriending. His name was Branden, and he said he was in first place for the first two miles. He was 16 years old, and apparently wasn't very well-practiced at pacing himself.

We chatted about girls and wrestling and cars for around two miles. :) I encouraged him on the uphills - "We're almost to the top, Branden!" - and before either of us knew it, we were at the 6-mile marker.

We decided to run it in, and he came in a couple of seconds ahead of me. I finished in 1:29:13.

I didn't go home with a jar of honey - the prize awarded to the top finishers in each event - but I did go home with a race bib to put in my scrapbook.

<3

Walk for the Warriors

2011-10-13T15:20:00.000-07:00

I have fallen behind on my blogging, and every day I intend to write, but nothing gets written. So, I figure that writing a little something about the events that I have participated in lately is better than writing extensive race reports "someday." So, here we go:

On September 20, 2011, I participated in the Walk for the Warriors, a 14-mile course along the paved Chipman Trail in Eastern Washington. The race started at 8:00 AM in Moscow, ID, and I have to admit that at 7:55, I had some mixed feelings about the event.

First, I was nervous about the 14 miles. Fourteen miles is the second-farthest distance that I have ever run, and most of my long runs these days are only 5 or 6 miles. A part of me worried about injury and/or embarrassment.

Second, I was disappointed by the turnout. The race was advertised on the radio, and when I found out what the event was raising money for - the Warrior's Promise Foundation - I figured that lots of people would attend, especially since the event was on the weekend of September 11. However, there were only five or six people there total, and I think that all of them were a part of my Wednesday night running group, the Palouse Falls Beer Chasers.

(Side note: I still think I might write a harshly-worded letter to all of the ROTC programs on both the WSU and UI campuses, scolding them for their absenteeism. They should have been there, if you ask me...)

And third, I was pretty excited. It is hard not to feel some adrenaline on the morning of a race, even when one knows she is going to do a lot of walking.

At 8:00, the race began, and I quickly determined that I needed to pace myself. I had been casually planning to run 1/2 mile then walk 1/2 mile for 14 miles, and after running the first half mile at about a 8:30 pace, I decided to fully commit to that plan. I simply could not keep that pace.

It turns out that my plan was a good one. It was realistic given the distance of the event and the shape that I was in. I felt good for nearly the whole run. Around mile 10, I was feeling pretty tired, but I didn't have many options and decided to just keep plugging along. And at mile 13, I had enough energy to entertain the idea of running the final mile.

In the end, I ended up walking about 6.5 miles and running 7.5. I came in at 3:22:31.

I really hope the event attracts more people next year. The volunteers were great, and it is for a good cause. I'm glad I participated.

<3

Puffer Butte Huff and Puff

2011-09-23T15:03:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday I participated in a 4.6-mile trail run against the advice of my ENT doctor.

The back story: I've been struggling with what to do with myself these days. I've had two septoplasties in the past two months, but I haven't wanted to give up exercising altogether.

Pic from my first surgery

Technically I am not supposed to run and engage in activities where blood rushes up into my head (and swollen nasal capillaries/tissues), but it has felt like a long recovery already, and I am ready to feel like me again.

So, as I was putting on my running shorts on the morning of the Puffer Butte Huff and Puff - a 5-mile trail race in Fields Spring State Park - I worried that I would regret my decision to ignore my doctor's advice. "I'll just walk most of it," I told myself; and this made me feel better. At least temporarily.

Before the race I warmed up a bit in the lodge and made small-talk next to the fire. Then I lined up in the back of the smallish pack of people gathered for a picture at the starting line.

63 runners participated

The gun went off, and I started a slow jog that I maintained for nearly the whole race. My plan to walk was destroyed when I realize that there was only one person (who was my mom's age) behind me. I kept about a 13-minute pace, which isn't "race fast," but it pushed me to my limit that day.

The last mile of the trail was the best, by far. It was a single-track dirt trail, and (because of my pace and the size of the race) I was the only one on it. I wish I had pictures to show you. Even though my nose was hurting me pretty bad, I remember enjoying myself on that path.

I came in at 1:01:08 and got a 3rd place age group ribbon. Both of these are kinda funny since the website later showed that the 5-miler was actually 4.6 miles, and the list of runners shows me as 9th in my age group. Oh well. :)

I was feeling pretty miserable at this point.

Smiling for the camera - post ice and pain killers

As always, I am glad to have participated.

<3

P.S. This is one of THE BEST-marked courses I have ever seen. Thanks to Race Directors Jennifer and Shaun for showing us the way.

Madison Half

2011-08-02T15:32:00.000-07:00

On July 24th I ran the Madison Half Marathon. It was a pretty awesome experience. Here are the highlights:

I got to Montana a couple of days early. Though I have been to Montana before, I was blown away by the beauty of the land and sky.

On Saturday I went exploring and took some pictures. The rain had cleared up, and I could see each layer of mountain in front of me.

I half-expected to see a grizzly in one of the meadows but never did.

I climbed this hill to get another perspective...and got winded from the elevation. Uh oh.

Indian Paintbrush for my good friend Rose

The highest elevation of the race

Sunday morning registration came early. Apparently I wasn't thinking straight because I left my iPod and my Garmin back at the car. I got on the bus to the starting line with just my race stuff (water bottle, shoes, clothes, two gels, and some Chomps) and a smile.

The 13.1-mile bus ride to the start was long, and truth be told, that intimidated me. I wondered how my lungs would do at 9,500', and I worried I was going to come in last...again. (Such things shouldn't bother me, and for the most part they don't; but I had to make a conscious effort to tell myself that I was there for the views and the experience and not the time.)

About to start and a little nervous

The race started around 9:15, and it was unlike any start that I have ever seen. The race director's son rang a triangle announcing the start, and everyone started running. But that only lasted a couple of seconds; the first hill was right in front of us, and most slowed to a power-hike. It was awesome to see other racers walking with me; my spirits improved instantaneously.

The first few miles of the race were good. I hiked all of the uphills, and I even passed a few people. (Perhaps I should thank Moscow Mountain and Kamiak Butte for that.) I loved running the downhills.


Isn't this just an awesome dirt road?! This stretch is pretty typical of what I saw for the whole race.

I knew that the climb to the highest part of the race was coming up, but I embraced the fact that the long, hard climb was inevitable. After over a mile of climbing, I still had this far to go:

This picture just doesn't do the mountain justice. It was TOUGH!

Just past the summit, I caught up with a runner named Tim, and we ran together for almost two miles. It was nice to jog and chat with someone I never would have met without this race.

It is funny that I don't have more stories about each mile like I did during my first half marathon and my first marathon. The race just kinda blends together as a gorgeous long run that I am blessed to have experienced. I never felt like I was gonna die; I never wanted to cry when I realized how far I still had to go. I just enjoyed the landscape. I don't want to get ahead of myself here, but it was almost as if I am getting more comfortable with the distance of a half marathon; I knew how long 13 miles feels, and I knew that I could handle it.

The only time I felt borderline-discouraged was around mile 9. I felt like I had been climbing more than I was descending, and I then I saw this:

Again, the climb was long and slow, but that just made the blue Gatorade even more delicious. (Thank you, race volunteers! You were amazing!!)

More views:

Black Butte

When I was around mile 11, I decided to check my time. My average pace put my finish time at just about 3 hours even. I decided to pick up the pace to ensure a 3-hour finish time.

Unfortunately, my RunKeeper application on my phone and the course mile markers were a little bit off. According to my app, I reached the 13-mile mark with two minutes to spare. However, I didn't reach the 13-mile sign until after 3 hours had passed. My official finish time was 3:03:09.

A welcome sight no matter how beautiful the course.

I was bitten by one of the deer flies that swarmed me from mile 11 on. The welt took up the better part of my thigh by the next morning.

Tired legs

I am so glad to have run the Madison Half. The landscape was breathtaking; the volunteers were wonderful; and the feeling I got after completing a race at over 9000', well, it makes me smile just thinking about it. I highly recommend it... but bring your bug spray! :)

<3

Bellevue Ghost Half Marathon

2011-06-30T14:00:00.000-07:00

After running a half marathon on Saturday, I signed up for a second half marathon on Sunday. I must be a crazy person (or at least run and travel with a convincing one).

At 6:30, or so, we showed up for the Bellevue Ghost Half/Marathon. After a briefing about the course, we were given a little piece of paper with the directions for the course.


So, where do we go?

Good-lookin' group of runners


I normally don't like posting unflattering pictures of myself, but this one cracks me up. It pretty much covers how I felt about attempting a second half marathon in one weekend.

The race started just after 7:00, and the other racers left me in the dust by 7:05. That was JUST FINE by me, though. My legs were already hurting, and I was planning to walk the majority of the 13.1 miles anyway. I put on my headphones and looked to the sidewalk for course markers.

Truth be told, I got lost a couple of times despite the yellow and silver arrows and the directions in my pocket. Regardless, I got a walking tour of Bellevue, and I even met a marathoner who pulled over next to me after noticing my shirt. We chatted for a bit, and then she directed me to the street that I was supposed to be on.

A little creepy

Mt. Rainier peaking over the trees

Shopping possibilities for after the race

Nice little run

Didn't love running alongside so many cars

Hilly Bellevue

When I made it to the finish, my Garmin said I had gone 13.2 miles in 3:58:38. I didn't care that I was slow; I had just finished TWO half marathons! And, I finished first in my division. ;)

Pretty cool.

Rock 'N' Rock Half - Seattle 2011

2011-06-29T14:28:00.000-07:00

What a weekend! I completed TWO half marathons in two days and PR'ed on the first one. Woo Hoo! This is my race report for the first one.

The first race was the Rock and Roll Half Marathon in Seattle, WA. The day before the race, we hit the expo, which is one of the coolest I've seen. There were free Brooks products, a few games, and, as always, lot of gear.

Yay Brooks!

Rockin' at the Rock N Roll

"You will totally kick butt tomorrow..."

We got a hotel in Tukwila, so we walked 1.2 miles to the race. On our little walk, I felt like my legs were nearly energized nor heavy, so I felt okay about the race at 7.

But even though the race was supposed to start at 7:00 (which it did), my corral - 32 - didn't get to the starting line until nearly 8:00. That meant that I had an hour to people-watch, eavesdrop on other runner's conversations about injuries and gear, do some stretching, hit the beach balls flying over the crowd, and mouth-breathe (as to avoid the ever-growing stench of the porta-potties).

The race start was pretty funny now that I look back on it. The announcers counted down from ten, and I crossed the starting mat and clicked my Garmin at the same time. Solid start. But not fifteen steps down the course, I step wrong, and my right foot and ankle just didn't feel right; they didn't hurt necessarily, but they felt funny, and I immediately worried that the next 13.05 miles were gonna be rough.

I decided to keep my pace, however, and after the first mile, I could barely tell I had ever stepped funny. My first 4 miles or so went really well. In fact, I got it in my head at some point that I was going to run the whole 13.1 miles without walking. But then came our first big hill, and I actually chuckled out loud at my silly optimism. I slowed to a walk and ascended the hill.

Miles 6-9 were also pretty good. I remember that I wanted to cry during mile 8 of my first half marathon - last July. It was nice to pass mile 8 this year and not feel that urge. Sure, my legs were tired, but I felt so much more confident this year than I did last. I had confidence in my mind and body. I knew I was going to finish strong.

Around mile 10 there was a great tunnel that we got to run through. My Garmin lost satellite recepton, so it couldn't keep my pace, but the clock kept ticking away. I ran the whole way, listening to the whoops and hollers echoing around me. I felt the sweat run down the sides of my face, and I tried my best to ignore the soreness on my thighs. (I remembered the sign I had seen a few miles back: "Chafe now; brag later!")

Once out of the tunnel, I looked at my time and realized that I had a very good chance of getting a PR. I would have to keep up my sub-12-minute pace, but I saw that I had a nice downhill up ahead, and that gave me extra confidence and energy. I ran down the freeway toward the city with a new spring in my step.

Miles 11-13 run together in my mind. (I'm so punny!) I just remember reminding myself that I am stronger now than I ever have been, that I am capable of more than I had once imagined, and that I was going to be proud of pushing myself.

I ran as hard as I could after the Mile 13 marker. I knew I was going to get a PR, but I wanted to finish as strong as my body could. I crossed at 2:36:56 (one minute and one second faster than my half in July of 2010). I had a pace of 11:58/mile.

After the race, I was doing okay for a little while. I collected my medal, and got my bottle of water. However, as I started to wait in line for the official Finisher's Picture, I started feeling dizzy and my vision started going wonky. I blinked hard to get the black in my vision to disappear, but no amount of blinking helped. I knew I was about to pass out, so I leaned over to a runner next to me and asked her where the nearest medical tent was. She said it was a long way away, and I grabbed onto her shirt for balance. She and a gal in a medical staff T-shirt took me over to the sidewalk and had me lay back on the cool cement. Before I knew it, I had multiple people helping me and giving me fluids. I started to feel better.

I got up to walk with the medical gal named Beth, and we started to walk slowly over to the medical tent. I learned about her daughters at WSU, and everything was going great... until my vision went all tunnel-y again, and my legs felt too weak to hold me up. Thankfully we were at the medical tent's door, and they got me right in (ahead of the line). I laid down on a cot, and they had me drink some electrolyte mixture and a big salt packet. Then they put a cool cloth on my forehead.

I felt like an idiot.

When they asked me how much I had fueled up during my race, I felt even worse. I had only stopped at one water station and one electrolyte drink station in the entire 13.1 miles. I purposefully didn't eat my chocolate GU that I carried with me. Not smart.

Wonderful people

After getting all fixed up by the sympathetic and knowledgeable medical staff, they finally let me go, and I made my way to the gear trucks. On my way I saw Scott, who had already finished his marathon, and I told him about my race and medical fiasco.

After a few minutes of taking pictures and getting warmed up, we headed across the street to get some more fuel and hydration. :)

Tired but happy to hydrate

Well-deserved mac 'n' cheese

It was a great day!

<3

Palouse Double 2011

2011-06-23T15:19:00.000-07:00

Scott and I organized the Palouse Double again this year, except instead of running the Headwaters Loop on Moscow Mountain and the loop on Kamiak Butte like last year, we ran on another part of Moscow Mountain and on a trail in beautiful Colfax, WA.

The event was a success, and we had fun running. On Day 1, I put in 8.1 miles, and on Day 2, I ran 10 miles. I felt pretty good about that (since I have my half marathon this weekend), but I have to admit that I took it really slow. Between the climbing and the rainy, cold weather, I didn't feel very strong and fast. I did, however, get some pretty great shots of the events...

Day 1:

Wet but beautiful

Great trail

Evidence of moose on Moscow Mountain (and of toe-lifting...)

Day 2:

Along the Colfax River

Nice trail

At the turnaround

View as I headed back to the car

18.1 miles later, I am a little sore, but I am glad I put in the miles. I hope it'll help me in Seattle on Saturday!

<3

Worth Writing About

2011-06-15T14:07:00.000-07:00

I've had some pretty incredible runs lately, and I wish that I had written about them sooner than this...when the feeling was still fresh and acute. I mean, how am I supposed to write about a run on Moscow Mountain where I stepped out of my comfort zone and ran up logging roads alone and found a beautiful little meadow, surrounded on all sides by pine trees?

Or how do I describe the feeling I got when I ran down a steep little trail, saw a large boulder sunning itself at the bottom, and decided that it would be a crime to not stop for a moment, climb on top of it, and study how blue the cloudless sky was in contrast to the greenest treetops I had ever seen?

I should have written earlier.

So even though I am at work right now and have other things that I should be doing right now, I thought I should spend two minutes and write about my run yesterday by Jack in the Box.

This "Jack in the Box" run is nothing new to me. It is one of the first places that I ever ran, in fact. It is almost completely flat and is a pretty heavily-run path in Pullman. We normally park behind the fast-food joint, and then I run along the railroad tracks a mile out and then take the paved path back to the car. It is a nice little weekday run for me, especially since I know the exact distances by heart and don't typically use my Garmin. (It is almost .25 miles to the end of the chain-link fence, .40 miles to the bridge, .80 miles to the underpass, and 1 mile to the road. This knowledge is especailly useful when I am playing mental games with myself during races; at the end of races I often hear myself say, "Annie, you only have from the bridge to the car to go" or something similar.)

Anyway, I knew that yesterday's run wasn't going to be long, but I wanted it to be good. I had some energy in my legs, and it had been a few days since I had worn my Racers. (I have been wearing my Cascadias, Launches, and my newly-purchased Vibram FiveFingers.)

My first mile wasn't especially fast (about a 12-minute pace), but my legs were feeling strong, so I decided to see what I could do on my second mile. Right when my Garmin told me that I had finished Mile 1, I picked up the pace. After a couple of minutes, my curiosity got the better of me and I checked my watch: under an 8-minute pace! "NICE!" I thought. "I didn't even know I could run this fast, even for a short distance."

Even though I knew I was slowing down some, I decided to just keep running as hard as I could until I heard my Garmin beep that I had completed another mile. I ran beneath the overpass, by the bridge, past the end of the chain-link fence, and beyond the car. My Garmin beeped, and my grateful legs slowed to a walk. I looked down at my Garmin, and saw something that brought a big smile to my face: 8:37!!

Yep, my previous record for a mile (set in August of last year) was 9:12. And yesterday I beat it by 35 seconds! I may be about five pounds heavier than I was last year when I set that record, but this year I am stronger in both body and mind. I felt really proud of myself yesterday and may have even experienced a "runner's high" as I walked my third mile and drove home.

It was a run worth writing about.

<3

Windermere and Memorial Day

2011-06-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since I've posted anything. I'm sure that has disappointed hundreds of loyal readers, so I'm sorry.

What have I been up to? Well, I signed up for the Windermere 5K a while back and planned to run it with a friend. Unfortunately, after only a half-mile or so, volunteers directed us back to the starting line, and at 1.1 miles we crossed the finish line. The race was over, and we walked (half angry/half disappointed) back to a pub to have lunch with our friends.

I signed up for the Windermere 5K, and all I got was this stupid tech shirt.

Since then, I have been working on increasing my miles for my half-marathon in a few weeks. My longest run since Bloomsday has been a 6.5-miler along the Spokane River. I'm going to get at least one good long run in during the Palouse Double on June 18-19. I know that the half will be tough, but I am not worried about it.

On Memorial Day, I went on a run near Asotin, WA in some truly beautiful country. Unfortunately, the grey skies quickly produced rain, and then small hail, and then hail large enough to hurt me as I struggled to run/hike up the mountain. Eventually I had to take cover. Here are some pictures of my 2.75-mile run:

Romantic-looking meadow along the trail

Dark clouds rolling in


Running to the car

I am sure looking forward to sunny skies. Enough of this winter running already! :)

<3

Bloomsday 2011

2011-05-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

With over 50,000 runners and walkers registered for Bloomsday this year, I think it was a good idea to get to Spokane on Saturday to attend the expo, avoid dealing with parking on race day, and enjoy pre-race food in "the big city."

At about 3:00 PM, we arrived at the expo, and it was just as I remembered it from last year (minus the Revive Energy Mints booth, which seemed to be missing this year). I got my race packet, checked out new running gear, and bought myself a new pair of double-layer socks that promised to keep me from blistering on race day.

Packet pick-up

Daniel and me at the expo

After the expo, we decided to get some dinner at Sushi.com, a downtown Japanese restaurant. The maguro nigiri was exceptional, and even though I wasn't expecting the volcano roll to look like it did, it was quite tasty.

Volcano Roll (left) and Chef's Choice Sushi Platter (right)

After a beer with a couple of other Palouse Falls Beer Chasers (and a perennial - a runner who has participated in all 35 Bloomsday races), we made our way back to the hotel and got our race clothes and gear ready for the morning.

One person in our party started his race at 9:00, so we headed to the starting line shortly after 8:00. I enjoyed seeing all the other runners and their outfits, gear, and, in some cases, costumes. I admired an old man's neon running shorts circa 1985, a couple in formal attire and running shoes, and three guys dressed as superheroes. (I didn't see the guy who only wore a g-string and a cape, though I hear it quite a thing to see...)

I found my way to the green group, and waited for my race to start around 9:15.

Shortly after 9:15, my group started moving toward the finish line. I removed my 2010 "Campus on the Run" race shirt, tossed it in a tree lining the street (as per tradition), and engaged in small-talk with others in my race group.

At 9:17 or so, I crossed the starting line and found myself in the middle of a pack of runners going at about a 10:30 pace. Feeling good, I smiled and thoroughly enjoyed the first couple of miles.

After 3 miles, I found myself thinking about when I would walk for the first time. I didn't need to walk, but I decided to walk once I reached Doomsday Hill. I made that my plan and ran to the bridge right before Doomsday.

Then something funny happened that I wasn't expecting. Instead of welcoming my opportunity to walk (that was my basic plan, after all), I found that I was resiting my plan and thinking something new altogether. I said to myself, "You are stronger than you've ever been. You can do this."

I thought of everything that I have been through in the past year, all the events and emotions that I have been endured. And in a flash I realized that I have not only survived this past year, I was holding my head up high and running a 12K race faster than I had the year before. This year I wasn't going to be slowed by the thing that made me walk last year. I dug in and started my ascent.

I wasn't fast, but I passed numerous people as I ran up the hill (which felt pretty darn good, actually). My legs and lungs burned, but there wasn't a single moment when I thought I would walk.

At the top of the hill, I felt a familiar sensation cross my face: I smiled a big ol' smile, and then I enthusiastically high-fived the Doomsday vulture and a guy dressed up in a chicken suit. I smiled because I had just run the hardest part of the course; I smiled because I had just run farther without walking than I ever have; and I smiled because I am stronger than I ever have been.

With the hardest part under my belt, I decided to running the rest of the race (2.5 miles), as well. That distance is not small potatoes to me, but my mental state at that point was so strong that I knew I could do it.

I don't have a whole lot to say about the rest of the race. It just felt good. I kept a consistent pace, and I knew that I was going to not only have a PR but also new knowledge about what I am capable of. And that fact kept me smiling and running strong.

It was awesome seeing the downhill to the finish line. I finished at 1:24:25, which is an 11:18 pace.

Proud Annie


Three happy Bloomsday runners. We all got PRs!

After the race, we met up with other Beer Chasers at Northern Lights and enjoyed food and a few beers. We then went to Sky High Sports for a second workout (this time with trampolines). What a spectacular day!

<3

Seaport River Run 2011

2011-04-25T14:49:00.000-07:00

I ran the Seaport River Run on Saturday morning. Here are the highlights:

The sun was shining, and the race didn't have a 6 AM start. Woo hoo!
My first couple of miles were at about a 10-minute pace, so I knew that I had a good chance of getting a PR (since my pace needed only be faster than an 11:55). I thought, "Even if I have a couple of slow miles today, I still might beat my previous record."
My new Brooks T7s were light on my feet, and my legs felt well rested since I didn't run while in Boston or New York.
I was feeling under the weather, so my lungs were my biggest enemy; I felt like I couldn't get a full breath of air, and my occasional coughing fits slowed me down.
Around mile 5 my feet started feeling like they were developing some blisters, but they didn't hurt me too bad. I decided to run the last 1.2 miles as fast and as strong as possible.
I breezed by two or three runners in the final few yards of the race. I like finishing my races with a sprint.
I got a frosty beer at the finish line and a jet boat ride back to my car... and all for a $10 registration fee. Nice.

I came in at 1:08:58, which is an 11:06 pace. I feel pretty good about that time and look forward to my next race on Sunday. I just hope this cough subsides a bit; I'd like to be healthy for Bloomsday.

<3

Two Races, Two Days, One PR

2011-04-12T15:14:00.000-07:00

I ran the Twilight 5K in Lewiston, ID on Friday night. It was great.

A few minutes before 7:00 PM, we put our race numbers on, removed our jackets, and lined up on the paved path next to river. The sun was going down, but it still shone on the water and illuminated the just-budding trees, reminding me that Spring is on its way.

I watched as other runners warmed their bare arms, fiddled with their iPods, and stretched their muscles.

The gun went off soon after, and the race began. I didn't actually start running, though; because I had a timing chip on my shoe, I figured that I would cross a timing mat to officially start my time. So, I walked for about ten seconds and realized only once I got to the starting line that there was no mat. Bummer.

I began running and knew from the get-go that my legs were feeling pretty good. I have been increasing my miles for Bloomsday and for my next half marathon (in June), and while they have been pretty tired, they have also been getting stronger. I felt that strength, the cool air on my face, the beauty of the river and Idaho, and the excitement of the runners around me. It felt good, and I waved to my cameraman. :)

What a dork! :)

My first two miles were great. I was running under a ten-minute pace (which is fast for me), and I heard the "go-ahead-and-walk" devil on my shoulder less than usual. I wondered at Mile 2 if I would get a PR. The sun set around me, and I distinctly remember smiling at the fact that I was running a race on my Friday night.

With about 3/4-mile to go, my legs started to feel tired. I was sweating pretty good, and the distance between me and the older fellow that I was trying to keep up with was increasing. Without feeling discouraged, I reminded myself that I had less than a mile to go.

(I have to isert a side note here. When I run, I tend to think of things in terms of distances I know - "I only have a 5K left" or "Only one more mile to go." I also have shorter distances memorized. At this particular point in the race, I remembered one of my most-run trails - the railroad tracks by the local Jack in the Box. And this was super-useful. I thought to myself, "I only have the distance from the underpass to the parking lot left. I have run that a million times." And that was all that it took to remind me that this distance and the feelings in my legs were nothing new. I was going to finish strong!)

With .35 miles to go, I did something that I can't believe I did - I started sprinting. In my experience, that is too far to sprint. But, I looked at my Garmin and saw that I was close to record time for a 5K; I had to try to beat my best time. I kicked it into gear and ran.

I really did feel like I was going as fast as this picture indicates.

I passed three people on the final stretch, and I crossed the finish line in 30:53 - my best 5K time to date. :)

(Special thanks to John McMurtrey for taking these pictures!)

***

The next morning I awoke to the knowledge that I was going to run another race - this time a 5-miler, and I would be both a participant and a co-organizer of the event. The race's rules were simple - run five 1-mile laps, and take a card from the deck upon the completion of each loop; the best hand at the end of five loops/miles wins.

Pre-race chatting/keeping warm

The race started at 11:00 AM, and I have to say that it was really cool to see how many participants we got to come out and run. Despite the chilly wind, we were all smiles as we started the race.

Not long after the start, it was clear that I wasn't going to be running the whole five miles; the race took us up Roundtop and up the hill to the water tower. I wasn't too concerned about my hiking plan, as there was a fellow hiker/runner out there who was more than happy to join me for our friendly five-mile race.

John McMurtrey and I showing the trail who's boss. :)

Feeling good

This was John's first race, and he was awesome! We came in at 1:11:25, which isn't bad for the course. More important, however, is the fact that we had a lot of fun running, walking, hiking, and talking.

After the race, we compared cards, and I was surprised that my two kings didn't even get me into the top 3. Rose Keller won with three aces. Congrats, Rose!

All in all, a great couple of days in my running life.

(Special thanks to Shirley Cornelius for taking these pictures!)

<3

Good News

2011-03-31T14:09:00.000-07:00

Last night's 2.25 mile run with the Palouse Falls Beer Chasers was nice. I jogged in the rain, and the cool breeze felt glorious on my hot face as I pushed my legs down the asphalt path and around the softball fields. My first mile showed some improvement - a 9:51 pace. I was really happy about that since it was nearly a minute faster than Monday's pace. I don't expect this rate of improvement to last for long (obviously), but it sure is nice to feel like my body is already reacting to my attempts to get back into shape.

Another piece of good news is that I just signed up for my second half-marathon - The Rock 'n' Roll Half in Seattle, WA on June 25, 2011. With Bloomsday coming up in May (7.46 miles), my training should be right on track for a half marathon in late June. Yay!

<3

Slow and Steady Training

2011-03-30T09:14:00.000-07:00

Monday's run of 3.11 miles was pretty good. I couldn't run the whole distance, but after I walked the last half of my second mile, I ran my fastest mile in a while - 10:35. Baby steps to Bloomsday.

<3

Two Miles

2011-03-24T14:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my training plan said that I needed to run two miles. No biggie, right?

Well, going on a two-mile run is not a big deal, but running two miles apparently is*... I was breathing hard after only running a half mile, and at about 1.25 miles, I was SO ready to walk. But, I pushed myself and ran the two miles at about an 11:30 pace. (I didn't have my Garmin, but that's what it felt like.) It was more difficult than I'd like to admit.

I learned something yesterday: I have gotten out of running shape. I am not smiling as I write that.

But, before I get all gloomy, I want to acknowledge the positives: 1) I was successful in running my two miles, despite my hard breathing and side ache, 2) I still have more than a month before Bloomsday, 3) the weather is getting nicer for running, and 4) I have done this before.

I want to re-iterate #4: I have done this before. I know that I can get back into running shape; I went from only being able to run 60 steps to running the first four miles of Bloomsday to completing a freaking marathon. I am not starting from scratch, and I know what I am capable of.

Now I just have to do it.

*When I go "on runs," I allow myself to walk when I need to. But yesterday I chose to "run two miles," which meant that I wasn't allowed to walk at all.

<3

Increasing My Miles

2011-03-21T16:35:00.001-07:00

These past few weeks have been pretty low-key for me and my running. I have been very consistent about going outside and getting some exercise each day, but my miles have taken the form of jogging, walking, and hiking; so, while I feel good about keeping exercise a part of my daily routine, I haven't been working my lungs or my leg muscles like I used to.

But, Bloomsday is approaching again, and it gives me an excuse to start working a little harder than I have been. I don't have a specific goal yet, but I do know that if I tried to go out there now and run 12k (even if I walked a good portion of it), I would hurt pretty bad; it has been a while since I have been on a run longer than 3-4 miles.

So, in an attempt to increase my fitness level and decrease the pain I feel on May 1, I going to train for Bloomsday. ... and I am officially starting that training today. Here is my plan:

March 21-27: 14 miles
March 28-April 3: 17 miles
April 4-10: 22 miles
April 11-17: 8+ miles (I will be traveling and don't know how many miles I will realistically be able to put in)
April 18-24: 15+ miles (more travel...)
April 25-May 1: 20.46 miles

<3

Roundtop in Winter

2011-02-24T16:25:00.001-08:00

Beautiful and cold runs in Pullman:

Littleton - Take 2

2011-02-23T16:07:00.000-08:00

I went to Littleton this past weekend to spend some time with my wonderful family. Unfortunately, I had to miss the last race in the race series that I was co-director for (eek), but Scott stepped up to the plate (even with a sore Achilles), and the race was a huge success.

Most of my trip was spent playing games, spending time with family, and eating food...

Eggs Benny at The Breakfast King

Homemade salad

Beef nachos from Merle's

but I also had a chance to get outside and enjoy the place where I did my first run back in July 2009.

The pond that I ran my first lap around

Of course, the pond was different that summer, and as I ran around it, I couldn't help but reflect on the changes that I have experienced in the past year and a half...the ways that I am different, too. Since this is a public blog, I won't go into all the details on this one, but I will say that running has been a constant in my life since 2009, and I am so glad that it has. Whether I am training for a race or just getting outside and breathing in fresh air and enjoying the sights and sounds and life around me, I am thankful for the sport.

1000th Mile

2011-01-31T13:38:00.001-08:00

I waited too long to write this. I should have written this post right after I ran my 1000th mile, when my belly was full of celebratory pulled pork sandwich and beer, when I was still high from how supportive my friends were of me (they made me congratulations signs, gave me hugs and high fives, and treated me like my accomplishment was pretty amazing).

My only hope is that these pictures show what kind of an amazing day (and even more amazing friends) I have.

Pullman Winter Race Series #3

2011-01-18T11:04:00.001-08:00

Saturday was the third of four races involved in the Pullman Winter Race Series. We had a great turnout with 13 runners compared to the 7 we had back in December. It is amazing what a little word of mouth and the lack of a blizzard will do for a race!

The race started at 8:00, and by 8:03, there were no other runners in sight. No, I wasn't so fast that I passed them all up; I was running my 12-minute pace in the back, and I'm pretty sure all the other runners were on speed or something.

On a positive note, I ran faster this month than last month. This time I came in at 1:37:48, which is a 12:37 overall pace and 25 seconds/mile faster than my December time. I attribute most of the improvement to the weather conditions, but it still feels good to have done so much better this race. I am happy with my pace for a 7.75-mile course and know that I would have been faster in a 5K and slower in a marathon. I am pretty consistent and run almost daily, even if it is just a couple of miles.

<3

Running in Meridian, ID

2011-01-06T13:47:00.001-08:00

Pullman WInter Race Series #2

2010-12-20T15:35:00.001-08:00

This weekend I participated in the Pullman Winter Race Series which I helped coordinate. There were seven runners, and each chose how many 7.75 mile loops they wanted to run.

I chose one loop, and I gotta say that half-way through the loop, I felt like it was too much.

The race started off with me counting down and pretending to fire a gun into the air (which was pretty rad). Rose, a new friend and fellow runner, ran with me for the first mile and a half, and it was kind of nice - the company, the gently falling snow, the cool winter air. I had a good feeling about the race; and truth be told, I even considered running a second lap, depending on how I was feeling.

And then, everything changed. And changed fast.

As I was slowly making my way up the hill by Schweitzer Engineering, the wind and snow picked up. And before I was to the top of the hill by the Cougs Corner Mart, my whole body felt frozen. The temperature was in the 20s, and so were the winds. I had ice in my hair, ice in my eyes, ice on my cheeks. And then I slipped and fell on the ice beneath my feet. I mumbled curses under my breath as a driver - safe and warm in his stupid heated car - honked at me as I picked myself up and got back on my feet.

The worst of the race was still to come. The entire stretch from the hill toward Roundtop to the section by the Bear Center was just miserable. The blizzard conditions made it impossible to see in front of me as I attempted to run down the path. The fronts of my thighs were so cold that they stung, and my shoes were completely covered in snow and ice. When I tried to wipe my runny nose with my glove, all I felt were jagged ice particles scraping against my bare cheeks, and even though this may sound dramatic now, I thought that my face was bleeding. I couldn't tell whether I was crying or if my eyes were watering or if the snow was just melting on my face, but my cheeks and nose were wet and colder than I ever remember them being.

I was alone on the trail with snow drifting all around me on the Palouse fields, and I wondered what my smartest move should be - keep moving forward, go back to the Coug Mart and call it quits (but get warm), or find/make some kind of temporary shelter. (Again, I know this sounds dramatic and might be making you chuckle as you read this, but I was cold and I didn't know if the weather was going to get worse or where the other runners were. It was definitely the lowest point of the race for me.)

I decided to press on, and by the time I got to the crosswalk at the Moscow/Pullman highway, the weather (and my spirits) perked up. With my hands balled up inside my gloves, I picked up the pace and ran all the way to the finish line. I was still cold and my ponytail was covered in ice, but the wind wasn't at my face anymore, and it was good to see other runners on Chipman Trail. I knew I was almost done and that I could go home and get a hot shower.

I finished the race in 1:41:00, which is about a 13-minute pace. I was actually quite pleased with my time even though I came in dead last in yet another race. Considering the conditions and the distance, I was happy about how much I pushed myself to run.

I'd like to say that even though it was a tough day of running that it was a good race, but I think that would just be an attempt to make a happy ending out of a crappy story. So I am not going to lie: this 7.75-mile race was one of the worst runs I have ever been on. It was hard, and I don't think I am a "hardcore runner" that can enjoy these kinds of conditions.

That said, though, I did it. And not many can say that.

<3

P.S. Here is a picture that I took of myself after the race. I don't usually share pictures of myself when I think I look awful, but I have to post this picture - the tired grumpiness is all over my face. :)

P.P.S. Here is me after a shower and a couple of beers. I can't stay grumpy too long.

Beer Mile #2

2010-12-05T15:28:00.000-08:00

We just had out second "beer mile" race, and even though it was cold and snowy, I had a lot of fun. I ran my mile (and drank my four beers) in 18:08, which is 32 seconds faster than the October race. Everyone said how much harder this race was, but I didn't think so. Of course, that didn't mean that I kept the beer in my stomach any longer after the race was over...

I'm glad that so many people came out to support the runners and the event. The race - and the sausages, guacamole, and hot cider - were a success.

<3

Doc Sears 2-Miler

2010-11-01T14:19:00.001-07:00

This weekend I participated in the 14th Annual Doc Sears Fall Classic Run and Walk in Lewiston, Idaho.

At registration I was given the option of signing up for the 4.5-mile run (which they said was actually closer to 4.65 miles) or the 2-mile walk. Since I hadn't been feeling well I decided to participate in the chip-timed walk.

I didn't run any of the event because I wanted to see how fast I could walk on flat, paved ground. I actually came in first in my age group (applause, applause) even though my time was slower than I thought it would be - 30:38. I think knowing my fastest walking pace (15:19/mile) is a good thing to remember as I continue racing; I'll be able to better gauge how much time I will lose when I need to walk.

It was a nice morning and a fun, free event.

<3

Goblin Valley 10K

2010-10-28T13:40:00.001-07:00

Last weekend I traveled to Utah to run a 10K (my second 10K to date and my sixth state for anyone who is counting). The scenery was beautiful, and I am glad I went.

The terrain is very different than that of Washington.

The sky was blue and gray, and the ground was red. What a place! It almost doesn't look real...

This picture was taken near the end of the race. I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to beat my 10K PR, but I was smiling as I rounded each pumpkin that marked the course.

That's me running through the valley of the goblins. I wasn't scared, but I was pretty tired. The course was A LOT hillier than I was led to believe. My shoes were caked with muddy clay.

Another picture of the goblins.

I ran 5 of the 6 miles with Travis, a new running friend. It was great. He is the only person who has ever told me that I have a fast walk/hike up hills, and he was upbeat the whole time. He came in a minute ahead of me after he picked up the pace through the goblins. Yay!

Final time: 1:24:07.

Added bonus: the 10K-ers got a Goblin Valley Ultramarathon medal and shirt, so when I run around Washington, folks will think that I am an ultrarunner. Nice.

Thoughts for next year: It would be awesome if the 10K course could be altered into a big loop so that more of the park/valley could be enjoyed.

I made lots of memories on this trip, and I felt blessed to be out there enjoying nature and seeing a new part of the world. And while my time wasn't stellar, I am still proud of it given the hilliness of the course. All in all, a great day.

My First Full Marathon

2010-09-21T16:32:00.000-07:00

I signed up for my first full marathon one and a half days before the race. It wasn’t planned, and I hadn’t trained for it. But I had my reasons, and I registered for the Salmon Marathon in Salmon, ID. I packed my bags and told almost no one of my plan for fear that they might discourage me from participating.

I got in the car after work on Friday, drove to Salmon alone, and slept in my car.

Saw this cow moose on Lolo Pass. She ran away when I was taking her picture.

At 4:30 on Saturday I awoke, got dressed, and went to pick up my race packet at a neighboring hotel. I waited at the table for my packet, but no one ever showed up. Stressed that I would not have a race number or timing chip, I got on the bus for the start anyway.

Once at the start, I got my race supplies and took a little breather. Though the morning had started out a little rocky, I got there on time, met a couple of runners before the race, and felt warm with adrenaline even in a tank top and 45-degree temperatures.

At 6:45, the race began. Woo Hoo!

Miles 1-5: The air was cool, and my body felt good. I made myself walk even though I didn’t need to. I looked around and said to myself, “I am really running a marathon!”

(I love this picture.)

Miles 6-10: No complaints yet. I jogged most of these miles and walked when I thought I should.

Miles 11-12: I started feeling tired but knew I had a long ways to go. I emptied the rocks from my shoe at mile 12 and watched the half-marathoners (who had just begun their race) pass me.

Mile 13.2: This was the farthest that I had ever run. I felt proud and determined.

Miles 14-17: This uphill section was long and tiring. I knew I was way behind the pack, and I just couldn’t get my legs to run no matter how hard I tried. I walked as fast as my legs would carry me as I sipped on a fuel packet.

Mile 18: I must have been looking pretty rough since the doctor/aide station volunteer wouldn’t let me leave the station until I had stopped to drink some water (and take the rest of the bottle of water with me). It was obvious that he didn’t know me at all when he asked, “Do you think you’re going to finish?” I smiled back at him and told him that there was nothing that could keep me from finishing.

Mile 19: My slowest mile all day. Every part of my body was tired and sore, especially my feet, my knees, and my left hamstring. Even though I was slow, I kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Mile 20-22: I walked a lot and jogged when I could; in fact, jogging used different muscles than walking, so I got some relief when I jogged/shuffled along. I knew I found my spirit again when I passed a 35 mph sign and joked with myself that I had better slow down.

Miles 23-25: I’m not gonna lie – I was really tired and hurting all over. The race couldn’t be over soon enough. The photographer asked if someone could jog it in with me since "they" had taken the course down already. (More on this later.) I didn’t answer him because I was holding back an emotional breakdown. I held it in and kept moving.

Mile 26: The course was gone, and neither my bike sweeper (Julie) nor I knew where we were supposed to go. There were no cones, no road paint, no signs. The tears started to well up again, and I stressfully informed Julie that we needed to find the finish line…soon. At exactly 26.2 miles, a blister popped and sent a tingling, shocking kind of pain throughout my left foot. With some quick thinking, Julie took a quick left and took me over a bridge where I saw the finish chute just up the way. (I also saw another cameraman that was set up facing the other direction, indicating that we should have come over a different bridge. I was disappointed that I didn’t run the exact course, but it wasn’t my fault and I kept going.)

Mile 26.35: I crossed the finish line, slapping people’s hands, listening to them all clap and cheer. I was the last one to cross the finish line at 6:24:26 (14:35 min/mile).

As soon as the race was over, I walked over to the grass, took my shoes off, and examined my sore feet. I had seven blisters on my toes and one on the pad of my foot. One of my toenails was purple. Julie came to my rescue and got me a bag full of ice for my feet, as well as a water bottle and a piece of watermelon.

When I got up the gumption, I walked over to the food tables (which had all been cleaned up), the massage therapists (who were getting ready to leave), and then finally to the river where I could sit in the cold river before driving over seven hours back to Pullman.

These mountain sheep were more fond of the camera than the moose.

Overall, my experience with my first marathon was great. The course was absolutely beautiful, and I repeatedly wished that had had a camera to take pictures of the mountains, the rattlesnake I saw on the road, and the funky old farmhouses. The volunteers were supportive and prepared, and the bike sweeper was absolutely wonderful!

While I have no plans for running another marathon in the near future, I have to say that my first marathon is one race that I will always remember. Before I left for Salmon, I told people that I would just do my best, and anything over 13.1 miles would be a success. After I crossed that starting line, however, something changed in me. I found strength and confidence in the mere fact that I was standing there at the starting line of a marathon, and I knew that I was going to finish. And I can honestly say that there was never a moment that I believed that I wouldn't finish, even when my miles were slow, no other runners were around, and I knew I was going to finish last. In fact, in the times when I was alone with nature and the race and my aching body, those could have been the most amazing/important of the race; those were the times that I saw what I was made of. And it was a pleasant surprise.

Even though my decision to race was made on a whim, it may be one of the most important decisions that I have ever made.

Other notes:

The website’s race description gave a cut-off time of seven hours, so I believe that any racer who finished by that time should be able to enjoy all parts of the race – a marked course with aide stations (minimum), a picture at the finish line, and also a plate of food and a massage (if desired). I don’t think that a racer should ever feel like they are putting people out by having to stay out there within the designated time.
I want to say thank you to everyone that has supported me and texted/called me with their congratulations. And to the sweet gal who wrote, “you are one of the bravest people I know. Fast, slow, whatever. You’re putting yourself out there and you are discovering what it means to truly be alive,” I love you. I’ve never considered myself brave, but it is true that I feel braver and stronger now than I have in a long time…even as I hobble over to the cupboard to get myself more Ibuprofen.

Moscow Mountain Mad/Sickness 2010

2010-09-13T18:29:00.000-07:00

I haven't been training for any races, but when I saw that Moscow Mountain Madness was coming up, I decided that I wanted to give it a go. After all, it was local, cheap, familiar, and a guaranteed PR (since it was a distance that I had never before run).

Admittedly, I was nervous before the start. I hadn't slept well, and I participated in a beer-drinking/rating activity the night before, so my body wasn't feeling energized and fresh. (In fact, my stomach could only handle half of a Clif bar, as it was still dealing with the chocolate, vanilla bourbon, and extra stouts.) I hoped that my max-strength energy shot would give me the energy that my body was lacking.

Shortly after 9:00, the gun went off and I started up the 3-4 mile ascent. After only about a mile, however, I started to feel bad. Really bad. In no time flat, my half a Clif bar and five-hour energy came up.

That would have been enough for most stomachs out there, but not mine. (It's a champ!) Every few steps, my body would start feeling that hot and then shivery feeling, and then I'd immediately have to lean over to wretch a little into the bushes. With each dry heave I came closer and closer to giving up hope for the race.

At 2.25 miles, I was ready to quit. My stomach was tired of flexing up in dry heaves, and my Garmin kept giving me hell about being behind my desired pace. And to make matters worse, the race sweepers (who walked the whole time) caught up with me. Morale low, I told them that I wanted to quit.

One of the sweepers gave me her water bottle, and I sucked a little bit of liquid into my empty but vocal stomach. The other sweeper started to make the call to the bottom of the mountain.

At that point, though, I reassessed the situation and decided that I couldn't quit. I felt awful, but I wasn't going to let the race beat me. I decided to keep going.

The next four miles to the top of Moscow Mountain was brutal. I ended up throwing up the sweeper's water, and it was made apparent to me how far I was lagging behind when packs and packs of other runners were making their ways down the mountain as I was still going up. I tried not to be embarrassed at my position and smiled as folks ran by saying, "You're doing great" and "The downhill is way better than the up." I also tried staving off my anger at the aid station volunteer who told me that I would be on the mountain all day at the pace I was running. (Grrr!)

At mile 6.2, I reached the peak and knew it was time to start heading downhill. Even though I was a little worried about my knee (since downhills seem to aggravate it more than anything else), I welcomed the change and the opportunity to pick up the pace. I looked down at my Garmin at mile 7 to see how I was doing pace-wise. Big mistake.

Another important decision had to be made, and I made it fast. I wasn't going to let the Garmin ruin the race for me or dictate how I felt about myself. Yes, I was behind pace, but with nothing left in my stomach and some beautiful trails ahead of me, I decided that the best thing for me to do was to put the Garmin in my back pocket and run at my own pace.

And I jogged/shuffled mile after mile. I thought about walking but realized I didn't need to. Despite the fact that most of my runs these days are only 2-4 miles, my lungs and my legs were in shape enough to finish the race in a jog.

And then I heard something that put a smile on my face. "All right, Annie! You're doing great!" It was my running partner, Scott. He had long since finished the race, and he had made his way back up the mountain to meet me. He took a couple of pictures and followed me down to the finish. I could have (and would have) finished without his support, but I was glad I didn't have to.

I crossed the finish line at 2:52:31, and I finished absolutely last. And you know what? I could feel bad about that. But I don't.

I completed a 12-mile trail race, which is still one of my longest runs to date. And it wasn't flat and fast, either; the race's website states, "You need to be in good shape to participate. This is the toughest of the Palouse Road Runner events." Just finishing the race is an accomplishment. And finally, I met my B goal - to finish in under three hours. (My A goal was to not come in last. *smile*)

This was a good experience for me, even though I was sick and tired for most of yesterday. And I learned some really important things:

Drinking the night before a race is stupid.
Letting someone get under my skin during a race doesn't help anything. I'll try to make this first time be the last time.
Garmins are great sometimes, but it is good to know when to ditch them and just run.
Running partners are blessings.
DFL is better than DNF in my book.
Taking ibuprofen on an empty/queasy stomach is a bad idea.

Not too shabby for a Sunday morning.

<3

P.S. I have nearly 800 miles logged since I first started to run. Can you believe it?

New PR

2010-08-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

I went over to the Dan O'Brien track today at the University of Idaho. I set a new 1-mile PR today with a 9:12 mile. It makes me think that a sub-30-minute 5K might be possible for me. That kinda makes me smile. :)

<3

Since the Half

2010-08-17T19:56:00.000-07:00

Since I ran my first half marathon in July, I haven't had much direction in terms of my running. I met my goal, and I haven't known if I wanted to make a new goal - like a full marathon or a faster half - or if I was content to just run a couple of miles a day, take part in my new runners' group, and train for the occasional 5K or 10K. From what I have heard from other runners, this is a dilemma that many runners face after they meet their first big goal. That is comforting.

As I write this now, I still don't know where I stand or what role I want running to have in my life. As I look back over the past twelve and a half months since I first started to run, I can see that my motivations have changed. I can see that my outlook has changed. I can see that my goals and my expectations have changed. And I am pretty sure that they will continue to change as I grow as a runner, as an athlete, and as a person in the next twelve, too.

As my plan for running takes shape, I'll keep posting blogs here. All I can say for now is "stay tuned."

Even without a clear running goal, I have been staying busy with running and fitness activities. As you know from my last blog, I co-coordinated and participated in my first two-day trail race. I also ran the Spokane Indians 8K Pennant Race on July 24th, and I improved my time from my last 5 mile race. My official time for the 8K was 57:27. (I know they are technically different distances and that I got a PR for this 8K, but my joy comes from seeing the improvement from the 5-miler that I ran in October when I clocked in at 1:00:07.)

I also went to the Spokane River one day and hiked a good four or five miles. I found a nice little spot in the middle of the river to day-camp on. I caught some fish, drank a beer in the sun, and then hiked back to my car.

(This video was taken from my cell phone, which should explain the quality.)

And I biked the farthest I have ever biked - 32 miles - on Saturday. (And on Sunday, I biked another 10.25 miles, despite some very sore body parts.) In the process, I found out that I am capable of things that I didn't know that I had in me... and equally important, I questioned what else I have in me that is hiding out, waiting to be discovered.

I am enjoying my fitness journey and look forward to where it is going to take me.

<3

Palouse Double

2010-07-12T16:48:00.000-07:00

I ran another race this weekend. Although it was not as huge or emotional as my half marathon last weekend, it was unique for two reasons: 1) it was a two-day race, and 2) I was a co-director of the event.

Our race was called the Palouse Double, and it took place in two states - on Moscow Mountain in Idaho and on Kamiak Butte in Washington. Basically, the goal of the race is to run as many loops as possible (or as desired) in a seven-hour window. Runners, walkers, and hikers of varying abilities and levels of seriousness came out, and it was a lot of fun. Here are the highlights (for me as a runner, not as a director).

Day 1:

The day was beautiful, and after the .8-mile climb to the trail head (carrying camp chairs, Gatorade, and other race items), the race began at 8:00 AM.

I decided to run my first lap with another runner, and we had a great time just taking it slow and easy. We enjoyed the shady, fern-bordered trail; the open, meadow-y areas; and even the switchbacks that took us up the mountain and back down again. We joked about how the trail seemed to be uphill both ways, and we never worried about our 20-minute/mile pace.

A little over half way down the mountain, the other director of the race (and the one who was attempting to run 28 miles that day) caught up with us. Surprisingly, he decided to finish the lap with us, even though my left knee had started hurting something awful and we were going even slower than before.

Once we finished the first lap, I decided to ice my knee and play cheerleader for the other participants. And when no one was around, I soaked up the sun, watched chipmunks dart here and there, and attempted to finish an unexpectedly difficult crossword puzzle.

After my ice was melted, and my knee was sufficiently numb, I decided to do a second lap. I don't have much to say about this lap other than my mind was glad that I did it even though my body wasn't. My knee hurt almost immediately, and I ended up walking almost 100% of the loop.

At the end of the day, I was happy to have completed 8 miles on the race course, and an additional mile or so on the road leading up to the trail head. Not too shabby for a Saturday on Moscow Mountain!

Day 2:

I awoke around 2 AM with pains down my left leg. My knee was sore, and my IT Band felt like it was seizing up. I took some anti-inflammatories and tried to get back to sleep.

I awoke again around 4 and again sometime before my alarm was scheduled to go off at 5:45 AM. Needless to say, I was not rested, nor was my body excited about the second day of the Palouse Double. I gave my attitude a pep talk before reaching Kamiak Butte, saying, "You've felt this pain before, and it is temporary. Right now you just need to toughen up, find some energy reserves, and be excited for this race that you helped create. You can do this!"

About an hour after the official start time, I decided to make my way up the butte. The 1-mile climb to the top is brutal on the ol' lungs, and my heart was beating about a mile a minute. I felt the burn in my calves and tried to change my climbing technique to use other muscles. Once I reached the summit, I took a big breath and could feel the relief throughout my body.

The ridge of Kamiak Butte is one of the most beautiful places that I have ever seen. It is just magnificent. I spent a lot of time up there taking pictures, getting photos taken of me, enjoying the view, and talking to other hikers. (I know, I know. I was supposed to be "racing," but sometimes I believe that talking to people trumps original plans. I met a couple of really neat people up there who reminded me to take care of my body, to take lots of pictures to remember my favorite moments, and to enjoy the beauty around me.)

After a very painful descent to the bottom of the butte, I decided that my first lap was going to be my only lap. I took a seat in my camp chair, put some ice on my knee, and fell asleep.

I only ran 2.5 miles, and it took over an hour, but I was proud to be one of the race's only "doublers."

****

In the end, the two-day race experience was a good one. I completed a total of over 10 miles, and came in first in my division (even though I was the only one in my division). Woo Hoo!

<3

My First Half

2010-07-08T21:19:00.000-07:00

So I did it. I ran my first half marathon, and even though my legs are still sore, I feel a smile coming on every time I think about crossing that finish line.

Here's how it happened:

Over the past two weeks, I have been doing lots of exercises on my left leg, paying special attention to my hip. I've been working my muscles and stretching my IT Band whenever possible. I even visited Brandon at ProFormance Physical Therapy to have him do Graston on me again. It was that important to me to finish my race.

On the morning of the Foot Traffic Flat, I have to admit that I was nervous. I worried about everything I could think of, namely disappointing my family and friends for not finishing and damaging my knee. But I didn't let the dark thoughts stay with me. As it got closer to race time, I made my third trip to the bathroom (by 6:45 AM), adjusted my brand new iPod Shuffle, stretched, prayed a little, and gave myself pep talks - "The important thing is that you finish - not win - the race" and "You know you can do this. Trust your legs and your training."

At 7:00, the gun went off, and I crossed the timing mat and pushed "start" on my Garmin. I remembered not to start off too fast, but I liked looking down at my Garmin to see that I was way ahead of my virtual partner (who was set at an 11:45 pace).

Before I knew it, the first mile had come and gone, and I remember thinking, "One mile already? Shoot, I only have to do another twelve of these and I am done!"

Oh, silly me! Around mile 4, my left knee started to give me trouble. I caught myself feeling angry at my body. But, I kept running, and even though the pain never ceased, it didn't really worsen until the last couple of miles. The exercise, training, rest and ice had paid off. I wasn't going to let my knee beat me.

The course was beautiful and flat, and when I wasn't concentrating on my time or my gait or my iPod, I took in the scenery. I was happy to be alive, surrounded by green farmland, running my first half.

I smiled and ran. I lip sync-ed to Taylor Swift and Billy Idol. I proudly wiped away the sweat dripping down my jawbone and smiled some more.

At mile 8, I came face-to-face with the mental challenges of running. Admittedly, I kind of wanted to cry. I passed the mile marker, did the math, and felt discouraged that I still had another five miles to go. The miles seemed to be getting longer. As I ran, I visualized brontosauruses shaking the earth as they walked, for that was how heavy my body felt as its weight slammed down on my knees.

At mile 10, my virtual partner started to mock me. She told me that I was behind my goal pace, and even though I wanted to tell her what's what, I couldn't; my tired legs just couldn't seem to pick up the pace. I ran when I could and walked the rest.

At mile 11 or so, Scott passed me up. This was both good and bad. For a split second I felt sorry for myself that a marathoner (someone running twice the distance) was passing me. But then I got over it and was glad to see a familiar face.

"How you doing?" he called out to me.

"I'm dying," I replied without thinking.

"Me too," he said as he moved farther and farther ahead of me.

At that point I decided to make a deal with myself - I was allowed to walk until the 12.1-mile mark (on my Garmin), and then I was going to run with everything I had for the last mile.

11.9 miles, 12.0 miles, 12.1miles...

And my once-stubborn legs picked up the pace. I knew better than to try to sprint with a mile to go, but nothing short of the Divine Hand of God could have kept me from running my best for that last mile.

Right around then, a gentleman who I had been following started to walk. Apparently unable to mind my own business, I told him that he didn't want to walk now; we only had another mile to go. I asked him if he wanted to "run it in with me." He said "yes," told me his name was Ken, and admitted that this was his first half marathon. "Mine too," I said with a smile.

With only two-tenths of a mile to go, a strange thing happened - my eyes started welling up and getting blurry. Now for those of you who know me, that may not seem like a big deal; after all, I have been known to cry at the movies and because of sad books (or kind gestures or especially beautiful words), but I really didn't think that I would be one of those runners who cried at the end of her race. I guess I always envisioned myself as the smiley girl at the end of the race, beaming with joy.

But that isn't what happened. Instead, I sprinted forward, and through blurry vision, I ran towards my friends at the finish line. Two hours and thirty-seven minutes after I started the race, I finished.

Once my legs took me across the timing mat, my emotions (and a fair amount of snot) flowed out of me. I cried first for the accomplishment, second for my sore knees, and third for my tired body.

I was happy and sore and relieved and proud all at the same time. I had done it.

****
Four days later, I am sitting here in front of my computer thinking about my race, and a part of me feels like it was all a dream. I think I am still kind of in shock that I actually ran a 13.1-mile race. But when I close my eyes and remember all of the emotions I felt - as I ran and when I finished - I know that it was real, and I want to keep running. I don't know what my next goal is, but for now that doesn't matter. I think that for a few more days, I'm just gonna sit back and enjoy my accomplishment.

<3 and thanks for the encouragement...

Canada

2010-06-18T13:03:00.000-07:00

This last week, I spent a little time in Canada. I volunteered at an aid station for the Rainier to Ruston Rail-Trail Relay and Ultra, and I was able to do a little running/training myself (despite my sore knee). Here are a few of my favorite pics from the trip. Such beauty...

Running in the rain

Enjoying the view on a suspension bridge

Climbing up some tough terrain

Colfax Trail

2010-06-18T12:27:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine shared a new trail with me. It is totally worth the drive to Colfax. I've seen coyotes, deer, eagles, and an owl. Oh, and the trail is long, relatively flat (at least for the section that I run), and gorgeous. Here are a couple of pics.

<3

CDA 5K

2010-06-11T22:14:00.000-07:00

I am really behind on my blog here, but I wanted to post a quick little something to document my latest race - the Coeur d'Alene 5K. The course was very pretty, and my legs felt good the whole time. I ran with a pack of middle-aged women and only sprinted past them in the last tenth of a mile or so. My finish time was a 31:21 (10:05 pace), my fastest to date.

Once I crossed the finish line, I didn't stop to catch my breath or get my free beer. Instead, I decided to run the course again and add a couple of miles to it. That day, I ran a 5k, ran another five miles or so, and then walked two. Hopefully that ten-mile run with help prepare me for my big race next month.

<3

Official Announcement

2010-05-26T08:21:00.000-07:00

I have officially signed up for my first half marathon! On the 4th of July, I will be running the Foot Traffic Flat near Portland. I've already started training, running seven miles last Sunday and increasing my long run each week. With only another month to go, I am getting increasingly excited about running that 13.1-mile course.

This is quite a thing.... Less than a year ago, I couldn't run more than 60 steps without walking, and now I am running a half-marathon...

<3

Running in Indiana

2010-05-24T11:53:00.000-07:00

I attended an academic conference this week at Indiana University in Bloomington, but I made sure to make some time for myself. I explored the town during a rainstorm, ate Momo at a Tibetan restaurant (a former professor of IU is the older brother of the Dalai Lama), and, of course, I went running.

I ran through campus and enjoyed this little creek and old cemetery.

I went into an old church and said a little prayer.

I snapped a picture of this guitar (which I later learned was made out of license plates, street signs, and hubcaps).

I ran through Dunn's Woods.

And I ran the first annual Firefighter's 5K. Here are the highlights:

I walked to the race, which was only a few blocks from my hotel. After getting my race number and taking a few pictures, a fire fighter got us all to line up.
The race started promptly at 8:00, and while my legs felt good, I realized immediately that I should have run my race in other clothes. (I have read lots of advice about not trying anything new on race-day clothing- or diet-wise, but my cute, new Brooks Podium Boy Shorts were calling my name.) Within a few steps, those cute new sorts made their way up (way up) my thighs. Not to get too graphic here, but I basically ran in underwear for 3.1 miles. (I think I am about ten pounds away from being able to wear these shorts and keep them where they are supposed to be.) While I could have been embarrassed, I decided that that wouldn't serve me well in the race. So, instead of trying to pull the shorts down every few steps, I just decided to let them be and just run the best race that I could.
I decided to run without my Garmin, and that was an interesting experience. On one hand, it was liberating - I didn't have the urge to look down at my wrist every quarter mile to check and double-check my pace. On the other hand, I had no idea how far I had run (and there were no mile markers on the course). It wasn't until I got to the turnaround point that I knew I had completed half of the race.
My legs and body felt neither energized nor sluggish. I ran a steady pace and didn't worry about "beating" any other racers. I just ran for myself and enjoyed the feel of my body running.
When I saw the finish line, I expected to feel an extra surge that I usually feel at the end of runs/races; I expected to sprint toward the clapping crowd. But, to my surprise, there was nothing left in my legs, and I just ran it in at the same pace that I ran the rest of my race in. I crossed the line at 34:14, which averages just over an 11-minute mile. I didn't get a p.r., but it was my second fastest 5K to date.
Overall, it was a fun race and a good workout. I am so glad that I ran a race in Indiana! This is a picture of me after the race, right before I sat down to breakfast; it was so humid that the sweaty clothes didn't dry by the time I left the conference that evening. (Nice!)

Bloomsday

2010-05-04T14:33:00.000-07:00

On Sunday I ran Bloomsday, and I have never felt better at the end of a race.

I was told that there would be a lot of people at Bloomsday, but even so, there was no way for me to know what it would look like, or perhaps more important, feel like to run with 50,000 other runners. Before the race even began, I tried to get into the "orange group" (the folks who thought they would run a 12-minute pace), and I could barely squeeze in. Riverside Avenue was absolutely packed with runners.

Once I ducked under people's arms and slipped into tiny spaces between people, I waited patiently for my turn to start the race. I could feel the excitement all around me; it was almost like there was electricity in the air. People were talking, laughing, attempting to stretch, throwing their extra clothes into the trees, and (already) building up hype about the dreaded Doomsday Hill. I couldn't help but smile.

At 9:27, I crossed the starting line, and the first two miles were like none I have ever experienced. I was completely boxed in. I could not run at my own pace, nor could I find any space of my own. I was in the middle of thousands of people running on a single street in Spokane, Washington; they determined my pace. My feelings were mixed. On one hand, it was exciting being a part of something so big. It was also nice that the group kept my feet moving; there was no way that I was going to start walking when the pressure and force of the group around me wanted me to keep moving. On the other hand, I craved a space of my own (I am used to running with one other person and having nature all around me, so it did make me a little nervous to have so many people so close to me at all times). I wanted to run a little bit faster, but the pack wouldn't let me.

At the first hill, the crowd starting thinning out (a little). Even though there were still a ton of people, I could no longer hear the collective breath of the pack. (This is real, by the way. At one point I remember listening to the sound of thousands of people all breathing.) I made a conscious effort to find a group of people who seemed to be running at my desired pace, and we climbed the first hill with no problems.

The rest of the race followed suit. I was basically able to run at my desired pace from that point on, alongside hundreds of other people doing the same thing. The walkers either stayed to the right, or they were easy to pass. I found that I had a lot more energy than I thought that I would (perhaps because of the sheer number of people or because of my Revive Mint and my 5-Hour Energy combo). I ran all the way to Doomsday Hill (and in the whole race, the only time I walked was in the second half of the hill), smiled for the cameras, high-fived kids on the sidelines and the Doomsday vulture, and even clapped for the 29 bands performing on the streets of Bloomsday.

At around the four-mile mark, I felt my energy level spike. Something happened to me, and I don't know what it was - a second wind, or a mini runner's high. Regardless, I felt a smile spread across my face, and I felt my legs lighten and energize. I picked up my pace, and passed some of the folks that I had been following: the ladies with matching shirts that said, "Doomsday doesn't scare me; I work at a junior high school!" and a gal whose shirt announced that this was her 31st Bloomsday.

Admittedly, the last couple of miles were tough. I didn't have a side ache and my legs weren't tired, but for some reason, one part of my mind wanted me to walk. Thankfully, though, another part of my mind was more determined, and it kept my legs moving at about an 11:30 pace. I kept it up until the final corner before the finish line.

That final corner, well, it was just spectacular. As I turned the corner, I could see the final downhill stretch, the purple balloons, and the finish line. And from this image came an energy that I didn't even know I had in me. I started running as fast I could toward those balloons, and along the way I watched the sidelines as people cheered. I felt myself smile so big that it probably looked like I was laughing for a full two blocks before the finish line. I ran like a person who had not just completed one of the longest runs of her life.

I crossed the line, clicked the "stop" button on my Garmin, and checked out my results:

Garmin Data: (Mile/Pace)
Mile 1: 11:22
Mile 2: 11:17
Mile 3: 11:47
Mile 4: 11:25
Mile 5: 11:19
Mile 6: 11:48
Mile 7: 11:28
Mile 8: 10:11 (.56 miles)

Total Distance: 7.56 miles
Total Time: 11:26:08
Average Pace: 11:24

I was super-happy with my consistent pace, the fact that I ran so far with so little walking, and the fact that I had just run my very first 12K! And as a bonus, my body felt great - no shooting pain in my knee, no side aches, and no exhaustion. I was tired, but I was happy.

********

Bloomsday Official Data:
Total Distance: 7.46 miles
Total Time: 11:26:06
Average Pace: 11:32

<3

Steptoe Butte

2010-04-21T11:51:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I went on a run up Steptoe Butte.

(These are pictures of the Butte that I took off of the web.)

I parked a couple of miles from the top and made my way to the summit. I was in awe of the beauty below me; I could see all of the beautiful browns and greens of the Palouse in Spring, and I felt thankful for the sun and the grass and the experience of running. After chillin' at the top for a bit (and taking a picture or two), I ran the whole way back to the car.

Spokane River Run - 2010

2010-04-19T11:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I ran my first 10K at the Spokane River Run. It was a beautiful course, and I ran my best, so I think it was a pretty successful race day.

The race started at 9:45 AM, after every other event (the 50K started at 8:15, the 25K at 8:45, and the 5K at 9:10). Even though I was a little bored having to stand around for two hours, I had plenty of time to hit the bathroom, stretch, and talk to people. Mostly, we talked about races that we had participated in and what gear we like. Of course, I talked up Brooks and felt for a moment like I was both a Brooks expert and a salesperson as I mentioned my experiences with the Brooks Adrenaline as opposed to the Cascadias that I was wearing. I even pointed to another racer's Adrenaline ASRs. I'm pretty sure I made three new Brooks customers as we stood around waiting for our race to start.

When I wasn't talking to others, I had some time to think about how I was going to run. My legs felt pretty good, the weather was nice and cool, and even though I have never raced on trails, I feel comfortable on them. So, in the few minutes before the race, I felt confident and even made goals for myself. For one, I was going to run the first 3.2 miles; after all, I had run over three miles the weekend before, and I still had energy in my legs. Two, I wasn't going to look at my Garmin unless I had to; I know what an 11-minute pace feels like. And three, I was going to finish strong.

The gun went off shortly after 9:45, and I was feeling pretty good even though there were people crowding all around me (which is very different from every other trail run I had ever been on). After only about .3 miles, I broke my second goal, looked down at my Garmin, and saw that I was running at a 12-minute pace. Because I didn't want to fall too far behind, I tried to go up off of the trail and into the woods to get around the slower joggers. (And I was not alone; lots of us had the same idea.) Unfortunately, we all quickly realized that this was a bad plan. We used lots of energy trying to hop over small logs and dodge trees without gaining much ground. I quickly made my way back onto the trail and into the middle of the pack.

The first mile was good. I ended up running an 11:08 mile, and my legs and lungs were happy. The next few miles, however, were kind of a blur. I don't know when it happened exactly, but I realized that my "run the first 3.2 miles" goal was unrealistic for me. The trail turned hilly, and I knew that I was going to need to walk. I did and made up for most of my lost time when I zoomed by people on the downhills.

At about the three-mile mark, I passed up my one and only water station because even though my legs were definitely working, I didn't need water (and I was avoiding my tendency to chug too much water).
After the water station, we hit a quick downhill, and a woman in front of me hit the dirt. Immediately, the woman directly in front of me ran to her aid. As I jogged by, I didn't see any cuts or scrapes and assumed that she was going to be fine. "Be careful, Annie. Don't fall," ran through my mind.

Wouldn't you know it, though... I didn't take my own advice (again). In about a half-mile, I tripped over some root or rock, too, and found myself falling to the ground. And it must have been a pretty spectacular fall since I found a way to hit my left thigh, hip, elbow, and hand on the trail. Folks behind me ran to my assistance, and I quickly waved them away saying that I would be fine. (I know that falling happens while trail running, and I know that I shouldn't have been embarrassed. That said, I knew that nothing was twisted or broken, so I really just wanted them to run past me and give me space to stand up, assess the damage, and get back on the trail.)

Back on my feet, I ran as I brushed the dirt off my body. Thankfully, nothing was bleeding, and the only pain I felt was in my neck (I think I must have strained it in an attempt to keep my head from hitting the trail).

The fourth mile was my slowest but also probably my best. By this time, the pack had thinned out, and I was running alone next to the river. I felt my feet striking the dirt below me, and my breathing was timed with my stride. I looked to my right, and I saw the river flowing beside me. For a few minutes, it was like I wasn't even racing; I was just on a Sunday morning run. A smile spread across my face, and when I noticed it, it made me smile even bigger.

The final couple of miles were okay. The lady who had fallen in front of me passed me, and we chuckled about our (lack of) gracefulness. I was glad to know that we were both okay. I was, however, a little bit discouraged when I looked at my Garmin and realized that I was going to finish more slowly than I had hoped. That feeling didn't last too long, though, when I assessed how my body was handling the terrain and the distance - my knee didn't hurt, I had no side aches, and my neck didn't hurt me bad enough to slow me down.

At about 6 miles, I could see the finish line, and I felt myself speeding up. I ran past a couple of people, and my legs felt faster and lighter than they had all race. I didn't worry about smiling for the photographer and kept my eyes focused on the finish. My legs carried me all the way there.

After a volunteer cut the timing chip from my shoe, I walked over to the Gatorade table and enjoyed two glasses of blue deliciousness. I knew that I hadn't accomplished all of the goals I had made for myself, but I wasn't too upset. I ran when I could and walked when I had to. I fell, picked myself up, and kept running. I finished strong. And I had just run my longest race to date. Not too shabby for a Sunday morning.

My official time was 1:14:03, which means that I ran at an 11:55 pace. Since I finished 375th out of 460, I could be kind of disappointed. Instead, I am going to concentrate on the 85 people that are probably sitting at home right now wondering just how I got to be so dang fast. :)

Upcoming race: Bloomsday on May 2.

<3

5.5 miles

2010-04-16T15:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I put in 5.5 miles on Moscow Mountain's Headwaters Loop, and boy was that first half tough! It reminded me how far 5.5 miles is (I had apparently forgotten over the past few months), and I think it helped to prepare me a little bit for this weekend's 6.2-mile race in Spokane. I'm glad to start getting more miles under my feet and more sun on my face (it was over 60 degrees yesterday).

<3

Whidbey Island 5K

2010-04-14T13:06:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I participated in the Whidbey Island 5K.

Even though the race didn't start until 9 AM, we had to drive from Sedro-Whooley the morning of the race, so I really got an early start. The drive was gorgeous, and we even had a chance to stop off and take a couple of pictures at an especially scenic bridge.

Then, we got to Flintstone Park around 8:00 for registration.

Pretty soon, it was time to turn on the Garmin and pose next to the star(t).

At 8:55 or so, we all lined up and waited for the announcements. All I needed to know was that it was a down-and-back course around the water. Got it.

The race started, and I was feeling pretty good. I had a smile on my face, crisp air on my body, and sea salt on my lips. I promptly checked my Garmin, saw that I was running at about a 10:30 pace, and decided that I was feeling good enough to run the whole thing.

The race wasn't altogether flat. For about 3/4 of it, we ran on the road/sidewalk around the harbor, which brought us up a little hill and back down. Then, we turned right towards the marina. We were met there by a bunch of folks in their lounge chairs watching us run by. I tried my best to look straight ahead and not feel self-conscious about what I looked like.

At the turnaround point, I felt pretty good, though my legs weren't feeling as light as they were at the beginning. I looked down at my Garmin and saw that I was running at an 11-minute pace. I knew that I could finish the race without walking.

The last half-mile or so was pretty tough, but it was great to see the balloons at the finish line. I sped up for the last .2 miles and just tried running as hard as I could. I passed quite a few people for such a short distance, and I finished as strong as I could. Even though I didn't beat my previous record, I was happy with my 34:33 finish time. It was a new course for me, after all, and it was hillier than the St. Paddy's Day race.

After the race, I got my first schwag - water, Pop Chips, and a bag full of running products (lotion, fuel, pain ointments, etc.)

All in all, I felt pretty great at about 9:45 in the morning. I was ready for a day of whale watching, wine tasting, glass blowing, island exploring, and expo-attending awesomeness (I bought a shirt that says "irunlikeagirl" on the sleeve). And since my race was over, my only responsibility was as a cheerleader for Scott at his marathon the next day.

My next race is the Spokane River Run (10K) on Sunday and Bloomsday (12K) on May 2. I am really excited to run these races since they are my longest ones to date and because Sunday's race is a trail race. While I do not expect amazing times for either of these races, I look forward to seeing how my body responds. I want to get my mileage up again.

<3

Fields Spring State Park Run

2010-04-14T11:14:00.000-07:00

I just got my pictures uploaded from my last couple of memorable runs.

A couple of weeks ago, I went for a run on a new (to me) trail near Oregon. The trail was very steep, but the views from the top made the climb totally worth it. Here is a pic of me at the Puffer Butte summit.

Even though we were up there for a couple of hours, our mileage was pretty low, given the snowy/icy conditions. Even though I am light and graceful (wink), I managed to fall through the snow up to my knee. (I think I look pretty happy for an amputee.)

The snow created practically endless possibilities for winter fun. And what would winter be without snow angels?

After the run, I continued to enjoy the views.

Campus on the Run 2010

2010-03-31T15:44:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I participated in another 5K. This time I ran all over the Washington State University campus in a race called Campus on the Run. Here's what happened:

I showed up really early and got my long-sleeved tee and race number. I stretched.
I stretched some more.
I participated in a cheesy group warm-up activity.
I stood at the starting line next to a dude holding a sign that said "12-15 minutes mile."
I started running when the gun went off.

(Okay, so not a lot happened before the race... During the race, however...)

At about .3 miles, the course was already heading into its first uphill. I was super-thankful to Scott, since it was his idea to run the course two days before to determine good running and walking points on the course. While everyone around me tried to run up the hill, I walked at a comfortable pace and caught my breath. I knew where I was going to walk and where I was going to run for the whole 3.1 miles.
At the top of the hill, I picked up my pace again. I jogged until the next uphill section. This one was a long one. I climbed to the nuclear power plant and watched as the faster runners flew down the hill as I was walking up.
The crest marked the first mile point. Lots of people got water and looked exhausted, but I felt pretty good. I picked up my feet and enjoyed my long jog to the bottom and the fact that I was running under a 12-minute mile on such a hilly course. I felt bad for the lady running in pajama pants.
My second mile was my best. I felt like I had energy; my knee didn't hurt, and I even noticed that I was running with a smile on my face. As I passed other runners, I updated them on the distance we had all run so far.
During the third mile I realized that I had some competition. For once, though, someone else was competing with me, and I wasn't competing back. Two young women dressed in purple roller derby-esque outfits kept passing me on the uphills, and I kept passing them on the downhills. I heard them talking about how they needed to pass me and how they hoped to "beat the girl in the yellow Brooks top." I had to giggle a little, especially since it seemed like they were working so hard. (Running uphill is really hard.) It shouldn't matter, I suppose, but I ended up crossing the finish line before both of them. :)
On the last straightaway, I have to admit that I was tired. My knee was a little sore, and I could tell that I was jogging on an incline, no matter how slight it was. I wanted to cross that finish line in under 36 minutes. I didn't allow myself to walk, and I kept my pace steady all the way to the end. I crossed with an unofficial time of 35:50, which I am proud of for the course and my current fitness level. Official times have not come out yet.

I was happy with my race, and I am looking forward to my next one in April. I'll be running my first 10K in Spokane. Woo hoo!

<3

Spokane in Spring

2010-03-22T13:35:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to Spokane for a little run along the river. It was beautiful. Just thought I share a couple of pics.

<3

St. Paddy's 5K

2010-03-14T17:21:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was a good running day. Scott and I went down to Clarkston,WA and ran the St. Paddy's Day 5K together. Well, more accurately, we stood at the starting line together, and then I saw him a half-hour later when I crossed the finish line. :)

So here are the details:

The gun went off, and I immediately started too quickly. Mind you, I wasn't sprinting or anything, but the Garmin said I was running at a 9-minute mile, and I knew that I couldn't maintain that speed. So, I consciously slowed my jog and watched as small children, a woman with a stroller, and one old man after another passed me.
At about a quarter mile, I started passing a bunch of runners who started off too fast. They had to walk; but my legs felt good.
At about the one-mile mark, a fellow racer started running with me. It was his first race, and he was doing great. We were both breathing pretty hard, but it was nice to hear him talk; it distracted me from my desire to walk.
At the turn-around point (half way), my new friend said that he was going to walk for a bit, so I said my goodbyes, skipped the water at the aide station, and re-committed myself to my goal - to run this 5K without walking.
The way back to the finish line seemed longer than the way to the half-way point. I felt myself breathing pretty hard, and my legs didn't feel strong anymore (though I was happy that my knee didn't hurt). I started singing songs in my head, namely "The Star-Spangled Banner," "America the Beautiful," "Jingle Bells," and "Alouette." Even as I ran, I knew that my choices of songs were kind of strange, but I didn't care. I knew all the words, and I was able to sing them to the rhythm of my feet hitting the path. Whatever kept my mind off of my lungs was welcome.
By 2 or 2.5 miles, I moved away from singing and into the praying portion of my race - "I am sooo ready for my second wind, Dude." Yes, I actually called God "Dude." I think He knows I meant no disrespect, though; I was just longing for a little divine intervention, some more energy. And I know that I am not the only one who prays during runs; my friend Emily says that she makes deals with God to get a little divine assistance.
When I was within half a mile from the finish line, I knew that I could finish without walking. Even though there was little climb and some wind in my face, I pushed myself up towards the finish line. I crossed with a time of 33:33 (which, for those of you who know me, is awesome on a couple of levels).

After the race, I coughed and struggled to catch my breath, but I was really pleased with the way the race turned out. It was only 10:30 in the morning, and I had already beat my best 5K time. I ate a half of poppyseed muffin, drank a little water, and stuck around to watch Scott accept a medal for coming in THIRD overall (and first in his age group). I cheered (I think I was more excited than he was), took pictures, and felt proud of both of us.

Races like this one make me want to keep registering for more. I think I will be ready for a 10K next month.

<3

Ugh! Graston

2010-02-24T11:34:00.000-08:00

This morning I went to physical therapy, and I am tired, sore, and bruising. I don't mean to complain here - I mean, I know that this will help me in the long run and that I need to buck up - but the Graston Technique that Brandon used on me was really painful. I couldn't even talk while he was doing it (which says a lot for those of you who know me). :) I basically just held my breath and waited for it to be over.

After that, I did a bunch of exercises - lunges, squats, and other creative drills with balance discs and resistance bands - to strengthen my hip and work on my balance. My heart was pumping, and sweat was dripping down my temples. As cliche as it may sound, I kept telling myself - "No Pain, No Gain."

Finally, the session ended with a bunch of ice and Kinesio Tape.

I just know that all of this is going to be good for me and that I will be a stronger runner... just in time for Spring, too!

<3

Physical Therapy

2010-02-16T15:23:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was my first physical therapy session at ProFormance. After running for a couple of miles on the treadmill (next to a gal who was lazily using the elliptical machine and yawning), walking back and forth in front of my therapist, and doing squats, I was given some good and bad news.

Good news: Brandon doesn't think I have a "bad knee." In fact, my knee seems to be very strong and healthy. The problem, he says, is in my weak hips, causing me to put strain on my IT Band. He says that with a month of using The Stick twice a day for 5 minutes and doing various hip-strengthening exercises, I should be strong enough to increase my distance again and run without pain.

Bad news: First, I didn't like being told that I have weak hips. And second, along with my exercises, I will have to go in to get treatment on my IT Band once a week for the next four weeks. Brandon says that the treatment will hurt and that I will bruise all the way down my thigh. I sure don't look forward to that, though it will be worth it if I can run all Spring without pain.

Until then, I will keep my runs relatively short. I am planning a solo 2-3 miler tonight. Perhaps it will be the first night in almost a week that I will run without rain.

<3

MRI Results

2010-01-21T21:55:00.000-08:00

Good news. I just got my results from my MRI, and I have no "acute bony, meniscal, or ligamentous" injuries. Instead, I was diagnosed with iliotibial band syndrome. What does that mean to me? No surgery, no permanent damage, and no discouragement from being a lifelong runner. Woo hoo! It also means, according to my doctor, that I need to do even more stretching and icing than I have been doing, and I may need to start physical therapy.

I have no formal training reading MRIs as a Writing Program Administrator (big surprise, I know), but I did order the images from the lab and thought I would post a couple of them here.

Isn't this cool? This is a picture of my knee. (I could be a doctor...) From this picture (and others like it), the specialists decided that I do not have bone damage.

This picture is a cross section of my knee. The bright white stuff below my knee cap and along the side is fluid that shouldn't be there. The report states, "There is abnormal fluid signal deep to the iliotibial band at the level of the proximal fibular collateral ligament." Bad fluid. :(

Even though I am not pain-free when I run, I am glad that the mystery is solved and that I have some direction for recovery. I plan to follow my doctor's advice and that of trusted websites. My dad and step-mom also bought me a new pair of Adrenalines for Christmas, so I should be good in terms of foot support. I'll be running that half marathon before you know it. See you out there!

<3

Next Step

2010-01-13T11:17:00.000-08:00

I went to the doctor yesterday, and she (a marathon runner) recommended that I get an MRI to see what is going on with my knee. It is scheduled for Friday.

<3

Snow Jog

2010-01-10T22:32:00.000-08:00

I am going to be patient. I am going to listen to my body. I am going to be patient...

Before I started running, I would stay indoors for the entire winter, longing for the sun on my shoulders and cursing the biting cold. This winter started differently, though. Of course, I still got bummed when Moscow Mountain got too muddy to run, and the vain part of me was sad that my tanned legs would soon turn pale and be covered by pants. But, with this new season and new sport came new possibilities and experiences. I covered my whitening flesh with Brooks running tights and long-sleeved shirts. I tested my Cascadias on snow and ice and mud. I raced the darkness after work and saw the golf course glow by moonlight. I shared the fifteen degree paths, railroad tracks, and dirt roads with only the most committed of runners and nodded silently to them before each disappeared into the night.

Winter doesn't feel as miserable when I am running, even if my face stings with cold and the fronts of my thighs are numb.

But, as my previous postings have mentioned, I have been having knee troubles, and my runs have been limited to every other day walks and jogs between 1 and 3.5 miles long. I've been fairly disciplined about taking it easy, and I have followed experts' advice about icing, stretching, resting, and massaging my knee for weeks. I've even tried running in my Adrenalines only, since they provide more support than the Cascadias. So far, I have had limited success. On Tuesday, though, I am going to a doctor so that I can get on the track (pun intended - ha ha) to recovery. I am motivated to start training for my first half marathon, and I look forward to running again without pain.

Until then, I am going to take it easy and be patient with my body. After all, running is something I want to do for a lifetime, so a few weeks of resting and following a doctor's advice is nothing.

<3

1-Mile Runs

2009-12-16T13:33:00.000-08:00

For nearly a month I have been taking it easy. I've been loading up on ibuprofen and Aleve, stretching my leg, and rubbing my IT band and knee every day. I know that this has been a good decision; after all, I do not want to cause permanent damage to my knee, and I don't need to run every day to prove to myself that I am runner. On the other hand, I have noticed that I am healthier - physically and mentally - when I am running, and I think it is about time for be to get back out there - out in the snow and ice and slush and wind and cold.

I am running 1-1.5 miles a day after work along the cement path by my house. I take it easy and quit running when I start feeling the first signs of discomfort in my right knee (which is hard to do when I still have time and energy to run farther). I plan to keep this regimen up until the 26th or so when I return to Pullman. My hope is that I can start increasing my distances before the new year and that I am back in shape (and 5-10 pounds lighter) within a few months. I haven't forgotten my goals for my first half-marathon, and I want to start training as soon as possible.

<3

Dreaming

2009-11-30T15:17:00.000-08:00

I had a dream last night that I could run so fast that every few steps, I could lift up my legs and glide above the ground. Every few steps, I flew a few feet, and when I landed, my legs were already moving forward in another long, fast stride. The dream didn't last long, but I awoke around 3 AM longing to go for a late-night run. I felt energetic, invigorated.

I didn't go.

Soon, I need to get back on the trails and have strong knees again. This dream told me that even my subconscious self needs to feel all that running makes me feel. I miss it.

<3

Stupid Knee

2009-11-17T10:58:00.000-08:00

My right knee has been hurting me lately, and I haven't been running for almost a week. This will not do. I weighed myself this morning, and I am three pounds heavier than I was last week. I have all kinds of emotions and thoughts that I usually "get out" when I go for runs, and without running, I am stuck with them. I don't get my endorphins. I don't get outside. And I don't get any of those awesome experiences that I like to write about in this blog - the sensations, the earth, the moon, the snow.

I've been icing, soaking, and massaging, and I hope that my knee is almost healed. I want to get back out there.

<3

November 6-8, 2009

2009-11-16T14:44:00.000-08:00

New experiences this week:

Running by moonlight - 3.5 miles

The moon was full, and the golf course was quiet. Since I was running on the asphalt path, I didn't have to worry about stumbling on rocks or slipping in the mud. My legs felt strong. I ran toward the light, my eyes fixed on the glowing orb.

Running along the Snake River (in my new Cascadias) - 7 miles

I got up at 5 AM, and we were at the trailhead at Pittsburg Landing about four hours later. We ran along the Snake, high above the rapids. The trail was fairly technical in places, and I hoped that I could keep up with my companions. Highlights: the views, the company, and my new Cascadias.

Running in the snow - 9 miles

My long run this week was up to Paradise Point. Before reaching the top, light snow began to fall. A few hundred yards later, the snow started sticking on the trees to my right and left. A bit later, I found myself smiling as I watched the flakes fall around me and melt on my legs and face. The non-runner part of me wondered what I was doing in shorts...on a mountain...in November. But then I felt my muscles flex, looked around at a world that I wouldn't otherwise experience, and noticed the expressions on my companions' faces, and I knew what I was doing up there. <3

The Summit

2009-11-02T14:36:00.000-08:00

Another beautiful Sunday run on Moscow Mountain. This time we went all the way to the summit. My legs were tired after the first couple of miles up. (Part of the run was on a trail called Nemesis. Need I say more?) Total distance 9.9 miles - my third longest run to date.

(A well-deserved break at the summit.)

(So you can see what I see...)

Today I am going to let my legs rest. <3

13 Miles!

2009-10-26T16:08:00.000-07:00

I am constantly reminded of how blessed I am when I run. It seems that every time I go up to Moscow Mountain, I experience something different and beautiful - new views, new textures beneath my feet, and new sensations in my body. Yesterday I ran on trails I had never run before, and I felt the soft, dark soil under me. In places the trails were covered in pine needles and a blanket of orange, yellow, and purpley leaves. I breathed in moist, earthy air; I breathed in my first autumn on Moscow Mountain.

Another first happened to me yesterday without even knowing it: I found out how it feels to complete a 13-mile trail run. 13 miles! Can you even believe it? When I saw that number on the ol' GPS, I could barely contain myself. Sure my feet were tired, sure my hamstrings felt so tight they could've snapped at any moment, and sure my shirt was completely saturated. But when I saw that number, I felt so... well, I just felt so good. I am doing something now that I didn't think I was capable of, and I am continually inspired to do more and get better.

(Anyone remember Bridge to Terabithia?)

All of a sudden my goal for my first half marathon seems too distant. I may have to start looking for races soon. Really soon.

<3

Side Stitches

2009-10-22T16:25:00.000-07:00

Ever since my first day running, I have struggled with side aches. In my first few weeks, I got them only seconds into my runs. They always occurred on my right side, and they would only go away when I stopped running. Frustrated by my ailment, I asked friends and experts about the cause. Some said they had to do with cramping in my diaphragm; some said they resulted from my breathing; and some said they were related to my diet and fitness level.

Months later, I still get the darned things, and I can't help but feel a little frustrated. When my breathing is good and I don't feel like I am going to pass out, when my legs feel strong and aren't begging me to walk, when my mind is in a place that wants to move forward instead of plan my next walk break, I do not want to stop running!

So, what should I do?

I went online today and found conflicting schools of thought in regard to pain (including side aches) and running. Some people advise runners to listen to their bodies, walk for a while, and then start running more. The opposing side - the "No one has ever drowned in sweat" side - seems to believe that pain is a part of progress. They "run through the pain," claiming that side aches are temporary annoyances that will go away if ignored.

When given these two options, I like the bad-ass side. I have always believed that the best things in life aren't easy to attain, and I like the idea of physical and mental toughness.

So I tried to run through my pain yesterday on Moscow Mountain. After about 1.6 miles, my right side felt like someone was trying to put a knife under my ribs. I kept running. Breathing became increasingly difficult, and I felt my body try to stoop over in an attempt to ease the pain. But I concentrated on my breathing, stood upright, and kept running.

At about 2.8 miles, my side was still killing me. One knife was replaced by two bigger ones. My only defense was my voice. I started yelling. Quietly and then louder came my chant, "One two three four, Two two three four" and so on. When I could no longer count, I yelled at my side and told it that I wasn't going to walk. I not only kept running, but I sped up along the final stretch as rain started to fall on my head and cold, bare legs. At 3.1 miles I slowed to a jog and then to a walk.

After only two minutes of walking, my side ache was completely gone.

So what does this experience prove to me? First, I think it is a myth that side aches go away if you just keep running. I ran a mile and a half with a side ache, and it never went away. Second, I am stubborn. There was nothing short of a missing leg that could have kept me from running that last mile and a half. As a result, I think I ran one of my fastest miles ever. And third, I may be a little bit crazy. What would people say if they saw a lone runner yelling a cadence as she sprinted in the rain?

<3

Spirit of the Marathon

2009-10-19T14:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went on a 5.5 mile run on Moscow Mountain. Having taken two days off because of a sore calf muscle, my legs felt rested, energetic, and strong. I was glad to be back on trails. Although I walked almost all of the uphills, I ran the flats and downhills faster than usual, and I remember looking down at the dirt and feeling a flying sensation for a second or two. (This particular sensation, if that is what it is even called, is new to me.) It was a great, although brief, experience.

After the run, I rented Spirit of the Marathon, a film that follows six runners through their trainings for and competitions in the Chicago Marathon. It was awesome to watch how running has impacted those people's lives, and I could see the power that human beings have within them.

As the credits started rolling, I started Googling marathons and half-marathons. What's the recipe for catching the marathon bug? Apparently a strong run in the morning and Spirit of the Marathon in the afternoon. My goal - recorded here on this blog so that it will be harder to back out on - is to sign up for my first half marathon by March and my first full marathon by the end of the summer. Are these realistic goals? I don't know. But after watching the grace and speed of Deena Kastor and the determination of Leah Caille, I am 100% inspired.

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200 Miles

2009-10-14T11:31:00.001-07:00

When I went on my first run - on July 29, 2009 - I didn't know about the journey I was about to embark upon. I didn't know how running could make me feel, how it could transform my body, how it could show me places in the world that I would otherwise miss.

On that warm, summer day in Denver, I didn't know if I even wanted to be a runner. After all, running was always just a part of other sports for me, and I had never been particularly fast or graceful or good.

My first run, consisting of multiple laps around the pond near my brother's house, was painful. My heels quickly bloodied, and I could take exactly sixty steps before my side ached and my legs begged me to let them walk. Even as I was running, I didn't consider myself a runner.

I entered my first 5K three days later on August 1. I ran in black yoga pants, a black shirt, and my K-Swiss tennis shoes. I finished in 37:49, and I couldn't wait to tell my running friend back in Pullman how I had done. I didn't think I was fast, mind you, but I was happy about my accomplishment and felt - for the first time in a long time - the pleasure one feels when her muscles are in absolute anguish but her heart and mind are happy and satisfied.

In the past 2.5 months, I have been loving this surprise journey of running. Whereas I had once thought that running was only for those being chased, I now chase my own goals and hopes down the paved paths of Chipman Trail, down the railroad tracks behind Jack in the Box, through the hills of the Palouse, and to the peak of Paradise Point. Whereas I used to gaze upon the mountains from a distance, I am now jogging through their trees and feeling the dirt and rocks and pine needles beneath my feet. My entire perception of running has changed.

Yesterday I ran my 200th mile, and with that, I think another change is in order: a change in my own self-perception. As I write this now, I do not feel like a woman who runs; I feel like a runner. So today I am creating this blog so that I can share my thoughts and successes and struggles with anyone who might be interested. My vision for this blog is that it is not just a record of my runs, but an album of sorts that documents my journey. And I will compile my album with images and with words written from my heart. <3