January was all about the skiing and consistent strength training, with easy base running miles sprinkled in to maintain fitness. I continue to be encouraged by how strong my legs and core feel from the consistent PT work I’ve been doing – I was originally concerned that all the work on the hamstrings, inner thighs, and gluts wouldn’t translate into strength for skiing, but I have been very pleasantly surprised. I can hold control going much faster now, my legs don’t get tired, and I don’t get gripped (with the exception of when the ski terrain is really bumped out, that technique is still requiring some coordination I don’t quite have yet, but I’m working on it!).
Ultra Marathon: any running race longer than 26.2 miles (traditional marathon distance). Typically run on trails, ultra marathons may also be held on roads.Also typically, ultras involve a lot of walking as well as running. You know, because they are SO STINKING LONG.
Finn is a writer and runner with a pretty legit marathon personal best of around 3 hours (consider that most marathon finishers never break the 4 hour mark and you get an appreciation for his fitness level). A lifelong runner, he admits at the beginning of this journey to a bias towards fast events (read: traditional track and road distances) vs. ultra and trail events. But a job offer to run and then write about the multi-day Oman Desert Ultra Marathon (just over 100 miles) seals his fate and begins an obsessive dive into the rich history, training philosophies, and interesting characters that populate the sport. This ambitious immersion culminates in completing the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc, a trail ultra with approximately a gazillion feet of elevation gain that circumnavigates Mt. Blanc through three countries and is one of the toughest ultra races on the planet.
I would consider this book to be primarily a memoir, and I found Finn to be a likable and entertaining writer with a personality familiar to any endurance athlete or long-suffering loved one of an endurance athlete – Unrealistic expectations? Check. Ability to minimize potential effort/risk? Check. Borderline obsessive personality? Check and Check. As someone new to this type of running, Finn spends a lot of time questioning others as to why they run ultras, and as he struggles with injury and uncertainty, he ultimately decides that “putting our finger on why we do this seemingly mad sport is almost impossible. The real reasons seem to lie just beyond the reasons we give. Sure, we want to win, we want to finish, we want to do our best, we want to find our limit, we want to make people proud…but none of it quite explains it. It’s an unfathomable urge, a deep, primal call, to be out there, to stand facing oblivion, and to come through to the other side.” (228) I totally get this – it’s why I can’t stop myself from finding a new goal each time I accomplish the last one. It’s why I love ultras but also why I love road events – I want to go longer, I want to go shorter and faster, I want to KEEP GOING. I love the work towards the goal even more than I love the actual event I’m working towards; there is peace and joy in the work. There is nobility in the effort. It’s meaningless and it means everything, all at the same time.
As an ultra dork, I was already familiar with most of the people and events that Finn explores (which didn’t make it less interesting to read his depiction, it just wasn’t new to me) with the notable exception of his treatment with NeuroKinetic Therapy (NKT), which I had never heard of. Partway into his ultra career he develops debilitating Achilles tendon pain, which remained unresolved after seeing multiple specialists and physical therapists. After working with an “Anatomy in Motion” provider (a similar approach to NKT), Finn is surprised to learn that breaking his left wrist three times may be contributing to the pain in his lower leg. By incorporating the NKT techniques, he is able run harder, longer, and faster with improved form and no pain. As David Weinstock describes it to Finn, “what we’re doing is essentially rebooting the computer in the brain that controls movement. In an NKT session, we interview people, then watch them move. We want to figure out what’s over-working and what’s under-working. Then you release the over-working muscles, or activate the under-working muscles, which helps re-program that dysfunctional pattern in the brain.” (126) What did not surprise me about Finn finding success with this method was that by embracing a systemic approach that views the body as a complex, integrated organism rather than isolated muscles and joints, he was able to resolve the issue.
Why I Am A Runner: I was in cross country in high school for two years, but didn’t “love” running at the time. I signed up for it because my mom told me I had to! I got away from running and didn’t run a step for a long time after high school. I got back into it for the same reason anyone does. When I was 29 I was in not so good shape. I was not exercising and had all the wrong eating habits. On labor day weekend of that year I threw my back out and was in horrible pain for weeks after. It was that wake up call that got me exercising again, which eventually led me back to running. After much prodding and cajoling from a friend, I did my first marathon at age 38. Shortly after that the same friend sent me an article on a 50-mile race in Nevada and jokingly said “I found you your next challenge!”. I was dumbfounded to find out that people actually ran distances longer than 26 miles. I started reading more and more about ultras and was hooked on the idea. I started training and ran my first ultra, the Mt. Hood PCT 50-mile, in 2009. I then went on to volunteer at the Cascade Crest 100-mile race later that summer, and I haven’t looked back since!
I’m Pretty Awesome At: Race directing. Although I love running, I’ve never put 100% of my effort into it. I had some early successes and did ok. Like most runners, when I started it was all about “me”. I finished on the podium a couple times, and in the top third of the pack at several more races, but I never found the urge to work harder. I enjoyed the training process, and I enjoyed races, but I didn’t fall in love with competing. I finally figured out I was happy just running at my own pace and having fun along the way. Race directing fell into my lap in 2015 and I immediately knew I’d found something that I could put 100% effort into. Just like running, the harder you work at something the more success you get. But with race directing the success belonged not only to me, but everyone that raced, and to everyone that volunteered. As a runner I only made myself happy, but as a director I made a whole group of people happy, and along the way I found more joy. I also discovered that the finish line of a race was even sweeter when you were the one that made that finish line possible. Every runner that finishes gives me the same rush as finishing a race myself. But the up-side is that I get to experience that finish line feeling over and over. [Jason directs the Badger Mountain Challenge, Sole Survivor (a backyard ultra), Run With The Goats, and Jump Off Joe – and if that isn’t enough, he also co-directs other races and hosts aid stations. I got tired just typing this.]
Future Goals: Longevity. One nice upside to not pushing yourself to the max is that you don’t burn out. By taking a chunk of time off from training every year, and by not pushing to 100%, I’ve been able to run ultras for over 12 years now. I’ve had plenty of injuries and had to take time off, but each time it happened I came back smarter and better prepared than I was before the injury. I have finished one 100-miler every year since 2011 for a total of 9 buckles (and hopefully a tenth buckle will be earned this year). I like to call it my “stupid streak”. I’d like to be able to continue this streak as long as possible.
Random Fun Fact: I got into Western States in 2015 on ONE ticket! It was the first time I’d tried to get in and I couldn’t believe it when I found out my name had been drawn. In 2015 entrants with only one ticket had less than a 5% chance of getting picked (since then the odds of getting in on one ticket have obviously gotten WAY steeper). Finishing that race on the track in Auburn was one of the highlights of my running career. I’ve tried to go back every year since then but not had the same luck yet. Next year will be my 6th attempt to get back to Squaw Valley. Wish me luck!
I’m not saying twice is a trend, but for the second time in two years during the month of May I find myself harboring deep thoughts and reservations about my training goal. Last year I was registered to run what would have been my first 50 mile trail race in Southern Oregon on my birthday in July – what could be more perfect? Completing a new trail race distance for the first time on my birthday on a glorious and warm summer’s day in the mountains? Answer: nothing!!!
And yet, the porridge just didn’t seem right. I had a fun training plan, I was only running 5 days a week, it should have been perfect. But I could tell after much soul searching that my heart wasn’t in it, I was training because I felt like I should and not because I wanted to. Despite frequent exasperated reminders from my spouse that I’m not a professional athlete and I don’t have to take this all so seriously, I do take it deadly serious because I love the training process and I worship at the church of physiological adaptation.
So in 2019 I bailed on that birthday race. We still traveled to Southern Oregon, we ran a really hot really fun 10 mile trail run just the two of us, read our books in the sunshine, took a nap, and had a nice dinner. Then on December 8 I ran my first 50 miler in Arizona and had a blast – it was the right race at the right time and it was a joy to train for.
This year I thought I was being sensible, not running hard during ski season. But when ski season ended abruptly in early March, and the climbing gym and Smith Rock closed, I thought the universe was sending me a sign – run many road miles, girl, work on your speed, try to qualify for Boston on a flat course. Perfect, I said, I will – I will train hard and run lots of miles and attempt a 3:50 time at the Chicago Marathon in October.
Then, inexplicably, the drumbeat of rethinking the goal started again about a week ago. I was run/walking on of my favorite sections of Shevlin Park, overwhelmed with gratitude that this trail system is basically in my back yard, overwhelmed with gratitude at that wonderful smell of warm pine and warm dirt that happens when the temperature is perfect and the sun is shining, and I thought – this is what I want to do all summer. I want to run a shit-ton of trail miles, I want to run most of those with Dan, I want to be caked in dust and carrying my water and food and running when it feels right and hiking when it feels right.
I don’t want to work on being faster.
I want to work on running farther.
I want to always been in the kind of running shape where I can drop into a 50K race on a whim.
Can I see the forest for the trees?
I had thought that I’d chase this 3:50 goal, knowing that if (when, let’s be realistic) Chicago is canceled, I could still do a flat 26.2 race on the paved loop behind my house. But what if trail races start happening again? They’re already significantly smaller events than even most small road races, and social distancing on the trail if everyone is running the same way tends to happen organically. If trail events open back up, I want to support those events.
Technically, I haven’t made a decision yet. Technically, my #350project training schedule starts June 8. If I do decide to put this goal on pause, it will be just that – a pause, not a retirement. I’d still like to train hard to qualify for Boston on a flat course (I don’t intend to actually run Boston ever again, but that doesn’t dull the shine of qualifying attempts). But for now, for the direction my soul is leaning, I think we might be looking at a goal pivot.
top row: Going To Valhalla…Witness and Donkey Goggles (the OGs) bottom row: Schrodinger’s Saigon Jade (the Runways)
Goodr Sunglasses; $24-35. Five styles! Kick-ass colors!! Cheap AF!!! One of my favorite things about these sunglasses, in addition to the multiple positive points noted above, is the super catchy name assigned to each color. PLUS: they do not slip while running, even with a super sweaty face. I have three pairs, and I’m doing everything to resist buying some Circle Gs (the newest style), but I’m not made of stone.
Sweaty Bands; $15. If you’re in need of a non-slip, not too tight but not too loose headband, check out the many styles available at Sweaty Bands. The ultra bright orange is my race day go-to, but I also have a smaller metallic gold band for the days when I need to feel like Wonder Woman. These are machine washable (I recommend you use a mesh garment bag) and last forever – I’ve had my orange one for 8 years and it’s not stretched out at all.
Oiselle Firecracker Earband; currently on sale for $14. Love love love this lightweight option for keeping your ears warm on cold or windy days. I find this is a better option for me than a stocking cap, as it lets my head breathe so I don’t get cold from really sweaty hair. I’ve worn it happily in 20-something degree training days all winter.
Stance Socks; price varies. When we moved to Central Oregon in late 2016, I immediately began having trouble with the trail socks that had worked for me in Portland, Mt Hood, and the Columbia Gorge. The volcanic soil here tears socks to pieces; I’ve had pairs from multiple brands have a toe blowout the very first time I wore them, which is super frustrating and expensive. My favorite socks now, for road and trail, both for comfort and durability (without too much blister-inducing bulk) are Stance. I can’t recall throwing a pair out yet. Bonus: they come in wild, fun, and silly prints.
Ultimate Direction Adventure Vesta 4.0 Hydration Vest; currently on sale for $112. I ran in a Unisex (which means “men’s”) Mountain Hardware vest for my first 5 years of ultra running. It served me pretty well, but I do find having a female-specific design means better fit over my clavicles and across my torso – I don’t have to wrench the front straps way down. I found this model to be the perfect porridge of accessible pockets and adequate storage without being too big. I can carry lots of water, food, and a couple layers without even noticing the weight.
Road ID; $20-40. If you’re out there running, it’s a good idea to wear some form of identification. I grew up in a superstitious family who believed that if you prepare for disaster, you can prevent it occurring; I think we have all seen in recent weeks that may in fact not be true, but still. If I’m running or skiing alone, I’ve got my Road ID band on. I also wear it now when I travel (or, when I used to travel. See also: global pandemic). This is also a great gift card to give the runner in your life.
Coalition Snow + Black Crows sittin’ on a chair lift image: Kori Barnum
Coalition Snow “Taken For Granite” All Mountain Skis; price varies. Back in the day when the mountains were open (March 13), this pair of lovelies was helping me become a solid intermediate skier in my 3rd season on the slopes.
“Coalition Snow is a woman-owned and operated ski and snowboard brand that builds the gear and the communities that unleash skills and expand experiences. We were founded in 2014 in response to the industry’s go-to strategy of “shrinking and pinking” women’s skis and snowboards. We wanted more. With decades of dedication to skiing and snowboarding between our founders, we took things into our own hands and partnered with some of the best builders around” (https://www.coalitionsnow.com/).
For running eternity, one of the training rules to follow was not to increase your weekly mileage volume by more than 10% per week. Staying within this limit lowered your risk of injury and allowed you to steadily gain endurance. I’ve always thought that sounded like a good idea in theory, but I’ve ignored it many a time without any issues – but I’ve also tried to do so sensibly, like running those extra miles at easy pace and on a forgiving surface like trails. Check out this article by Jason Fitzgerald to see if reconsidering the conventional wisdom might work for your goals.
2. Pretty much every recovery method isn’t really that helpful
After reading “Good to Go: What the Athlete In All Of Us Can Learn From the Strange Science of Recovery” by Christie Aschwanden (2019), I was kind of deflated. Aschwanden basically found that the only recovery tool that is proven by peer-reviewed, scientific study to give a significant boost to recovery is sleep. Specialty drinks and diets, massage, foam rolling, infrared saunas, cryotherapy, meditation – not helpful in a meaningful way to your recovery.
That said, it’s important to consider that if a particular recovery method makes you feel good and doesn’t cause any harm, there’s no reason for you to discontinue it. No one knows better than you how your body feels to you, and as we all know from the placebo effect, if you feel like something is helping you, it probably is a little, even if it’s only mental. I don’t know about you, but I need all the mental health I can get, so I will resume regular sports massage once I can. And I will definitely consider this information when I justify napping and skipping out on foam rolling.
3. Watch a running movie!
image: Wikipedia
If you’ve burned through all your streaming options, check out the Runner’s World “30 Best Running Movies Ever Made” list for some inspiration.
So this was a recovery week – low mileage, at any decision point the choice was “chill”. I’ve got 4 weeks left of “pre-training” before the “actual training” starts on June 8 for the Chicago Marathon. That adds up to two training weeks that will be pretty typical, and then two weeks of pretty low miles to get as rested as possible before I head into the 18 week training cycle.
M, W, F, Su – REST, baby, yeah.
Tu – 4 easy treadmill miles, ~10:10 pace with 1% incline. Watched some of the virtual Trail Mountain Running Film Festival. Remember when you could just shove your sweaty mitt into a bowl of M&Ms at an aid station without a care in the world? I do 🙁
Th – 5 mile easy road run, 10:24 mile pace.
Sa – 12 mile trail run with my beloved. Super easy pace, watched the miles but not the speed. Funny story – even with both of us paying attention and running on a trail system (Phil’s) that Dan has biked before, we still managed to miss a junction on the way back and added a few extra miles. Gorgeous day, close to home, no problem – but a good reminder as always that you need to vigilant in the wild.
W – REST [sick day – no work, no workouts, slept almost the entire day to the extreme joy of my kitty life coaches – after dragging my seasonal allergy suffering butt out of bed for weeks, I just. couldn’t. do. it.]
Th – 8 mile easy road run (back in the saddle, so to speak) at 10:18 mile pace
F – 10 mile SOS trail run, 10:54 average mile pace with speedwork sprinkled in of 10 x 100m repeats at 6:05-6:20 pace and 10 x 15 second hills
Sa – 6 mile easy treadmill run ~10:15 mile pace with 1% incline.
Su – 14 mile road long run. After a few warm-up miles, settled into ~9:20 mile pace (shooting for 9:30ish on long runs, so right about where I need to be). Honestly, I thought about quitting at mile 2, 4, and 7…and then was like, are you bleeding out your ears? Do you have CORONA? Do you have any valid reason to quit? I mean, seriously?! And found the answer to all those questions was a pretty firm “no”. So, to paraphrase the great Des Linden, I kept showing up. Another fine example of how just being super stubborn can get you places.
M – 4 mile easy road run, 10:14 mile pace. Neighborhood laps within a few block radius of our house, basically running down the middle of the road because the sidewalks are getting a little busy and the roads aren’t. + Recharge strength class livestreamed in the garage.
Tu – REST
W – 9 mile easy road run, 9:56 mile pace. Long loop down to the Deschutes River and back.
Th – 8 mile easy trail run, 10:55 mile pace out and back from home to the Tumalo Creek Trail in Shevlin Park.
F – 5 mile easy treadmill run, 10:15 pace. I find that although monotonous, doing some of your easy runs on the treadmill is a good way to really dial in that gentle pace and work on your form. Training for my Boston Qualifier marathon 2018, I got through 3 seasons of Empire just on easy treadmill runs – I even got caught up to the current episodes. Now I’m behind again, partway through Season 5, which is just as well, because I have many miles of easy runs ahead between now and October.
First road race of the year! Aravaipa Strong Half Marathon
Sa – Aravaipa Strong Virtual Half to benefit the COVID-19 Solidarity Response Fund. Endless loops around our block in kind of challenging humid, windy, rainy conditions. Couldn’t hold race pace and settled for a 9:15 minute mile average. Good reminder of how tough the half marathon distance can be, something I tend to forget when training for ultras. 13.1 miles is still kinda far (I know, duh, but I forget these things).
Su – 6 easy treadmill miles, ~10:15 pace with 1% incline. “Empire” catch-up continues.
I experienced something new [to me] and fascinating at some inclusion conferences I attended last year. At the beginning of the event, someone would recognize the Native American tribal group(s) that had lived, and continue to live, in that area. As a runner, there is something about being so close to the earth, to the literal and profound connection of feet to soil, that fosters a feeling of connectivity to all who have traveled the land before you. However, this awareness feels more distant to me in my day-to-day life, and sometimes (especially at the current moment) life is so complicated, it’s hard to remember to pause and look up from your personal lived experience to see that of others.
Approaching the world through a lens of inclusion doesn’t have to be complicated or intimidating. It can begin with something as simple as a recognition of the presence of others; in this example, a recognition of the rich and varied Native American tribal presence that permeates every corner of this country, a presence that lives in our nation’s history but also in our nation’s present, in the lived experience of Native individuals who live in your town and shop at the same supermarket and run the same trails.
I recognize and honor the Native peoples who lived and ran, and who continue to live and run, on the lands of my childhood and adulthood:
Willamette Falls, Oregon City, OR image: TripAdvisor
I grew up a stone’s throw from Willamette Falls in Oregon City, OR. Although modified dramatically by the locks and mills built to power local industry, the falls still retain some natural beauty. They were a significant fishing (primarily salmon and eels) and trading location for the “original Chinookan…tribes in this area, which included bands known as Tumwaters, Clowwewallas, William’s Band, John’s Band, and others”. https://ndnhistoryresearch.com/2014/12/15/clackamas-people-of-willamette-falls/ ; Dr. David G. Lewis.
Smith Rock, OR image: Kori Barnum
My favorite place to run on the planet is in Smith Rock State Park. Nowhere do I feel more joy, peace, and connection to a higher power than at this place, which looks like it was dropped in central Oregon by the hand of god – there’s nothing else like it anywhere around. According to The Oregon Encyclopedia, “Smith Rock is the traditional homeland of several Native American groups, including the Tenino (Warm Springs) and Northern Paiute people. The Northern Paiutes referred to the environs of Smith Rock as the Animal Village, a reference to the abundance and variety of plants and animals in the area”. https://oregonencyclopedia.org/articles/smith_rock_state_park/#.Xn_cW4hKg2w
If you are interested in learning more about contemporary Native American history, I would highly recommend “The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee: Native America from 1890 to the Present” by David Treuer (2019). Although the author dedicates a significant portion of the text to the pre-1890 historical record, I found this background to be a necessary foundation to better appreciating the more recent history; to be honest, much of this information was new to me even though it comprises the majority of our continent’s populated history.
For Treuer, this book “is an attempt to confront the ways we Indians ourselves understand our place in the world. Our self-regard – the vision and versions we hold of who we are and what we mean – matters greatly. We carry within us stories of our origins, and ideas about what our families, clans, and communities mean” (11). Acknowledging others is the first step towards an inclusive perspective. The second step is learning more about others – history, lived experience, cultural perspectives. The complexity of our nation’s tribal communities coupled with the hesitancy of asking questions as an outsider can make research intimidating; this text is a good place to start. It is compelling and well-written, and I struggled to put it down.
