26.2 and other stickers

The other day, when I was in a car with a friend, we pulled up to a stop sign behind a car with a 26.2 sticker and a 13.1 sticker on it. She asked me if, after running the Leadville 100, I laughed at how short those distances are and the people who displayed those stickers (paraphrased, of course). It wasn't intended as a jab at any snobbery or better-than-thou attitude on my part. It was more just a genuine question - "hey you ran 100 miles, so now does the idea of running a half marathon seem silly to you now?"

I have a tattoo that maybe 10% of the people I know know of. Or maybe more. I don't really know. I also don't really care that much who knows about it. It's a 26.2 in a circle. I cared who knew I had it when I got it, and strategically placed it where no one at my job (at the time, trading a financial product no one has ever heard of outside the industry at a big international investment bank) would be able to see it. Mission accomplished. Minus that I inadvertantly landed myself with a marathon-themed tramp stamp. Oops. Lesson learned. I got that tattoo at a time when I thought I'd run marathons forever. Also at a time when I thought marathons were pretty damn badass. I still think that, for the record. So are 100s. And 5Ks.

The 5K distance scares the crap out of me. Run almost as hard as you can for 3.1 miles, so hard you might actually puke when you cross the finish line? Oh that terrifies me to no end. I was a bundle of nerves leading up to Leadville, but it was nothing compared to how I feel the night before a 5K. Not that the distance is that far, or my pace is even that fast. It's just hard, and those 20'some minutes go on forever. FOREVER. Longer than a treadmill mile.

I have a marathon coming up on Sunday - my first road marathon in over four years. Good thing I have a marathon tattoo, huh? It's clearly a really important distance in my world. I didn't get that tattoo because I love marathons - at the time I was both intimidated by and enamoured with that distance. I still am. I got that tattoo to symbolize my love for running, a twin of one my best friend (a term I reserve only for one friend, who I have been sisters with since we met in shopping carts at the grocery store prior to our first birthdays) got the same day. And also because I really wanted a tattoo. 

So back to that question that was posed to me. Do I think those distances are silly? Hells no. It really shouldn't matter if someone wants to run 100 miles or a 5K or 1 mile. If someone chooses to run repeats for 10 hours on a track, 10 miles on the wide open road, along the coastline, or through the mountains - well that's great. They're out doing something they love - or they're trying to learn to love - they're running! I've certainly fallen into the judging in the past, as I'm sure almost all of us have. But really, aren't we all just different breeds of the same species?

Anyway, um, 3 days to my first marathon in 4 years. A race for which I feel woefully unprepared. But at least it will be warmer than the forecasted 18 degrees F in Fort Collins. Bring it on, Tucson. Let's do this.
 

The Leaves are a'Changing

At this very moment, I am sitting outside with yellow fall leaves crunching across the cement patio, billowed about by the wind, drinking a hot chai tea and wearing jeans, a light sweater, and boots. So what you say? Well, I'm not sweating my butt off and I'm not freezing cold. I'm going to go ahead and declare this as the Perfect Weather. I might not get a tan (who needs skin cancer anyways??), but I don't want to go inside. And this evening when I go for a run, I'll probably still wear a tank top and shorts. I might finish with a chill on my arms from a light wind and falling temps, but I call that perfection.

Monmouth Coffee Company: some of the only gooooddddd coffee I found in London

The rainy, angry transition to Autumn that Colorado has been having these past few weeks brings me back to the two Autumn seasons I experienced living in London. It's the only time of the year that I ever feel at all nostalgic for the dreary grey city that I was exiled (er...transferred for work) to for a brief blip in my life. This weather, though, makes me crave lazy Saturday mornings wandering through Borough Market to buy overpriced groceries for gourmet cook-a-thons in the kitchen while drinking hot spiced wine or lattes from Monmouth Coffee Company and scouring the craft beer stall for delicious American micros for later indulgence. And it really makes me dream of running through and around Hampstead Heath - the closest thing to a real forest I ever found in London.

I spent many a weekend afternoon meandering around Hampstead Heath - when I could work up the energy to drag myself out into the drear

I'm sure, though, that in a few days I'll snap out of this phase of waxing poetic about a place where I actually really hated living. Not that I'd ever turn down a trip to run on some of the moors and heaths around England, nor a meal at VitaO... 

Apple & Pumpkin Season!

Even as the weather continues to hover in the 90s in Fort Collins, the growing season ticks on. Peaches are ripening, the transition from summer squashes to fall squashes is in full swing, and pumpkin beers are dominating the shelves at beer stores. Fall is tangibly working itself into the air - I couldn't be more excited for chilly nights, frost-tipped grass to run through in the mornings, hoodies, hot tea, fleecy blankets, and good books. Most importantly though, pumpkin spice lattes have hit the coffee bars at Starbucks all over the country.

Although I spend a lot of my time running, food and nutrition pretty much top the lists of my other passions. Fall foods are hands down my favorites too.

The pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks is my favorite guilty indulgence. But since I'm still not running much in my post-Leadville recovery, I'm delaying my first PSL of the season. To quell my cravings though, I opened a can of pumpkin puree the other day to make my own (slightly healthier) version of a pumpkin spice latte. Combine 1/2 C almond milk (or whatever your milk of choice is), 1 tsp of sugar, and 1.5 TBSP pumpkin puree in a 16 oz coffee mug, heat it up, and top it off with 10 oz of dark roast coffee. A sprinkle of pumpkin pie spices to top it off, and you basically have heaven in a (ceramic) glass.

Then last night I had dinner with a friend. I had a pound of pork loin in the freezer, and couldn't decide what to make with it. So I went to trusty ol' Google for some answers and found, and slightly modified, a recipe for Pork & Apple Curry with Coconut Rice. I don't love coconut, or coconut milk, in general but coconut rice is one of my favorite ways to cook rice. The coconut flavoring is just subtle and creamy enough that I can totally get on board. Prepare yourself for some pure awesome.

Pork & Apple Curry (serves 4)

• 1 pound boneless pork loin
• 1 apple, peeled and diced
• 1/4 C OJ
• 1/4 C chicken stock
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 3/4 small onion, chopped
• 1 TBSP curry powder
• 1/2 tsp ginger powder
• 1/2 tsp  cinnamon powder
• optional post-cooking addition: toasted coconut flakes

Throw it all in the slow-cooker on low for 5-6 hours. Prep time of roughly 5 minutes - so easy!

Coconut Rice

• 2 C rice
• 1 3/4 C water
• 1 C coconut milk

Either mix all in a rice cooker (easiest way!) or bring water to a boil in a small pot, then add the rice and coconut milk, cover, and let cook approximately 20 minutes, or until all liquid has evaporated and the rice is tender. 

I ended up with extra pumpkin (though my pup has been enjoying a spoonful in her chow every morning this week) and extra coconut milk. I decided to make a really simple pudding-like dish for dessert this evening. I combined 3/4 C coconut milk, 1 C pumpkin puree, 1 TBSP sugar, 1/2 tsp cinnamon powder, & 1/4 tsp nutmeg (serves 2). Boil until it thickened, and enjoy! This might be my new fave fall dessert. 

Hooray for Fall!

Leadville Trail 100

bring it on Pb100!

I've sat down no less than 5 times to write a recap on this race - and actually came pretty close before accidentally deleting the entire thing. It's kind of hard to wrap up 29+ hours of action, not to mention nearly a year of training and preparation, into a blog post. This run was what I will describe as semi-rad - 29:25:56 (I can even list the milliseconds if so requested, thanks to Leadville providing us with finisher sweatshirts, name and time stamped on the sleeve) isn't a particularly impressive finishing time, but I did what I set out to do. I ran 100 miles. And I kept it pretty easy throughout. Now that's not to say I didn't have some bad spots and fall into some dark places or hurt like hell - I did all of those things. Multiple times. But I also didn't really push to breaking, or run my hardest. I just sort of let the run play out in front of me, let my legs slowly unwind until the finish line was in sight, and enjoy the experience as much as I could.

Leadville Trail 100 starts at the ungodly hour of 4am. 2:30am my alarm blared at me, and I awoke feeling sort of hazy. You know that feeling on Christmas morning, back when you were a kid? You'd awake knowing you should be feeling all kinds of excited and antsy, but it would take a few seconds to remember why exactly you were feeling that way. That's what waking up on the morning of the Pb100 felt like - if Christmas was one of those whiffle ball bats ready to bash your legs and back and shoulders and arms and head repeatedly for nearly 30 hours.

breakfasting at 3am

about to head to the start line

Breakfast was bacon, eggs, toast, fruit, and lots of delicious coffee with Kristel's and my crew. After stuffing our faces for a while, we made our way out the door and down to the cluster-fuck that is the start line. But seriously - the starting area was gated off from the crowds, with 900 runners lined up en masse. It felt kind of like a bunch of cattle being herded through the shoot. Kristel and I snuck in to the crowds and 5 minutes later, the race was off to an anticlimactic start and we were clipping off pretty pedestrian miles down 6th street, before turning onto a dirt road on our way to Turquoise Lake and AS#1 - May Queen. I immediately, unfortunately, fell in line with a dark shadow that would haunt me for the better part of the first 40 miles. It didn't matter how much I sped up or slowed down - she was there. The perkiest girl alive. This chick was chattering away at 4am, with anyone who would listen, telling her whole life story and narrating every move of her run.

TL outbound, dreaming of a time
when I wasn't running

I rolled into May Queen at 6:30am or so, right on the slower end of my schedule, but also really grumpy from having to listen to that girl chatter away for the first 2.5 hours of my day. I handed over a light jacket, my headlamp, and arm warmers to my crew and swapped out my gel flask for a full one. May Queen seemed to be the only AS of the race that I was able to get in and out of with any level of rapidity. Out to Twin Lakes (outbound), I pretty much ran a lot, walked a bit, volleyed back and forth with Alan Smith for a while, and trudged up the climb out of Half Pipe that continued on most of the way to the Mt Elbert Mini Aid Station (basically a water drop operated by CamelBak). I came in to Twin Lakes, some hot spots forming on my feet, still pretty much right on pace. My crew taped up my feet and set me up with dry socks (proved pointless 10 minutes later as I forded a river) to stave off blisters. I picked back up arm warmers in case it got cold over the top of Hope Pass, a 10 oz handheld of coke, some nutella, and set out for Hope Pass. As I was walking out of the Aid Station, Mindy walked with me for a ways, giving me one of the greatest pep talks I have ever received.

Making Hope Pass my be-otch for the 2nd time that day
Photo Cred: M. Genauer

The 21 miles I spent on Hope Pass were hands down my favorite of the entire race. I'd driven out to Leadville twice over the summer to run Hope Pass, and had made my way out and back on the Twin Lakes side of the the trail twice, and about halfway down the decline on the Winfield side once. I felt really comfortable on the trail, and had a huge burst of energy and positivity on my way up. It was fun to see the leaders cruising down and get to cheer on some (much faster) friends from Fort Collins, both running and pacing, as I was on my way up. Passing the llamas at the Hopeless Aid Station was just fun, and hitting the top of Hope Pass and taking off running downhill felt amazing. I kept up a controlled easy jog (except over the talus rock sections that I tend to roll my ankle running over) all the way down the 3 miles or so of descent until the trail leveled out to runnable rollers. I started to feel a bit nauseous or light-headed around this section - just generally not great - so I walked a bit more than I might otherwise have needed. I ran pretty much my exact planned split into Winfield - about 4 hours flat. I walked into the aid station to find Rob and Mike and started crying, from some combination of relief, exhaustion, and who knows what else. Rob looked at me hard and told me to buck up, "there is no crying in ultra running." After a few gasping breaths, I pulled myself together, and requested a bit of additional foot care and another sock change to readdress the still lingering hot spots, and a gear swap to pack my needed gear into Mike's pack as he would be muling for me over Hope Pass. Mike came prepped with some awesomely awful bad jokes and lots of chatter to distract me from the hike back over Hope Pass. My legs weren't that tired, and other than a few spots where I paused to catch my breath on the ascent, I felt really good on the return trip over Hope Pass. We reached Twin Lakes a solid hour ahead of schedule - 3:11 as opposed to my goal time of 4:10. I lost some of that time back at the Aid Station re-taping my feet and collecting the gear I needed for the next 17 or so miles.

Swapping out Pacers at TL (return)

Cat and I headed out from Twin Lakes, headlamps lit, back up the climb to the Mt Elbert Mini AS and then down into Half Pipe. Somewhere along the way, my achilles tendon on my left foot and the tendon running across my first metatarsal on the same foot began to ache pretty severely and I started walking more and more, even though my legs still felt pretty good. Coming in to Outward Bound (Fish Hatchery), it was getting cold. In the AS, I filled up my 10 oz flask with hot water and chicken broth and pulled on a pair of running tights since my legs were getting so cold it was hard to move well. After a brief break to warm-up, Cat and I were off again for the never-ending climb up Pipeline. Seriously though - it felt like this climb was going to go on for the rest of my life. Memory is a funny thing too - I really didn't remember the descent off of Sugarloaf pass being that steep or that long. It flew by pretty quickly. Somehow, I missed the multiple false summits and winding endlessness that is this climb when I was running down it. And the same thing happened with the section of Colorado Trail from the turn-off from the jeep road following Pipeline into May Queen. A couple of miles out from May Queen, I decided I was finished with this run. Not DNF finished, but just an "I am so tired of running and this isn't fun anymore" finished.

I came through May Queen at 5:45am, an hour ahead of the cut-off and with 4:15 to trudge the final 13.5 miles. I passed off my bottles for a refill of water and coke, grabbed a dixie cup of potato chips topped with m&ms and walked on, towards the finish line. I really just wanted to be finished. Rob Erskine was taking over pacing duties for Cat, and in short order, he'd caught back up to me with some extra potato chips and my filled bottles. Though my handheld of coke was mixed pretty disgustingly with old chicken broth. To illustrate my level of not caring, I drank it. It was gross. Really gross. And I finished it all. A few miles along the trail around Turquoise Lake later, with the other side of the lake still depressingly far away, I broke down and decided to run. And found that it wasn't really that bad. It would take a few (hundred) mincing painful steps to settle into a rhythm, but once I got there, I found I could hold it for a long while. As long as the terrain didn't change too significantly. At the Tabor Boat Ramp, we heard a couple of different possible mileages and it was actually looking like we might be able to make it to the finish line before 9am. Unfortunately, that mileage estimate was a couple miles shorter than actual. And after 40 minutes of solid running, we'd only covered a "half mile" according to updated (probably more accurate) mileage estimates. That was discouraging. But on I ran, or more realistically, shuffled towards the finish line. At 8:15, I had 4 miles to go, pretty much all uphill. Rob deserves a huge thank you for putting up with me, especially over those last 4 miles, when I don't remember mustering any energy for anything but an eye roll at the relentless climbing, and I doubt my "run" pace topped 14 minute miles.

my ridiculous crew and pacers (minus my dad, the photographer), walking me in to the finish.

the guys and me, at the finish

My crew found me at the turn-off onto 6th Street and ran/walked the last mile in to the finish line with me. Being genuinely ridiculous. Across the finish line, I grabbed my medal, flowers, and stood for the weigh-in to ensure I hadn't lost too much weight over the past 30 hours. I hung around the finish area for a while watching more finishers come through, and cheering on Alan Smith as he finished in 29:45. I limped back to the house, into the shower, and onto the floor for a nap.

Palisade Peach and Spring Kite veggie pizza

To cap this off, I want to give a HUGE thank you to my crew, pacers, and those people I peppered with a hundred thousand questions along the way. Cat, Mike, and Rob Erskine - thank you so much for your awesome pacing and crewing. Mom, Dad, and Rob Howard - thanks for being out there to crew and cheer me on! Scott - it was so much fun to have you at the finish line to run in that last mile with, capping off the ridiculousness of my crew. And thanks to Pete and Kristel for training with me, lending me gear as needed, answering a million questions about running 100s, and generally putting up with me stressing out for months over my decision to actually register for one of these crazy runs. Oh and a thank you to Meghan and Michael at Spring Kite Farms for a delicious "congrats on finishing Leadville" bag of Palisade Peaches - yumm! (and I'm sure I forgot about a whole bunch of people, so thanks for whatever awesome contributions you had)

Maroon Bells & Leadville Packing

Looking down at Snowmass Lake from the 10 mile mark

Last weekend, I drove out to Aspen for a weekend of camping and running fun with some great friends, and plans for a final long run before Leadville around the Maroon Bells 4 Passes Loop. With a handful of last-minute cancellations by friends who were planning on watching children and wonder-dog Vera, Kristel and I made the call that running the whole 28 mile loop would have us out on the trails for an unfairly long time to the friend who was dog/child-sitting for us all morning. Instead, we abbreviated our run to a 20 mile out-and-back over Buckskin Pass, u-turning on a part of the trail overlooking Snowmass Lake.

On the ascent up Buckskin Pass from the TH (CCW direction)

The route is absolutely gorgeous! High mountain passes, sparkling lakes, thin oxygenless air. Pretty much a perfect day on the trails. I felt horrible the entire time we were running. Headachey, light-headed. Legs had no lift at all. Chest felt tight and breathing was labored. Basically, one of the crappier runs I've had. I attributed it all at first to altitude - we were hovering between 9580 ft and 12,500 ft at the summit of Buckskin Pass. However, it took another week before I started to feel normal again, so I probably was just fighting off some kind of a bug.

Snowmass Lak

I'm now less than 5 days out from Pb100 - yikes!!! I spent the past couple of days over the weekend figuring out what is going to go into my drop bags, what I'm going to eat and drink during the race, and then actually packing it all up. Let me tell you, that's been pretty stressful - like nightmare-inducing panics that I'll have forgotten to pack warm enough clothes or energy gels or something else. But some extensive list-making and stressed-out conversations with my 100-miler-veteran friends, and I feel a whole lot better about the whole thing.

Little Vera, bringing back the 80s

The dietitian in me has demanded extensive thoughts on the food aspect of running 100 miles. Although I typically eat a diet pretty heavy in vegetables, whole foods, whole grains, limited bread products, and limited processed "junk foods," running an ultra is a whole other ball game. Starting today, I'll be cutting out all dairy leading up to the race (I'm a mild lactard and don't want any risk of lactose-related GI issues). Over the course of the week, I'll also be transitioning from my usual diet to a lower-fiber diet (no kale salads on Friday for me!). 100 miles is brand new distance to me, and I'm going to have to figure out how to eat consistently for almost 30 hours straight. Luckily, I pretty much eat non-stop anyway. But in this case, I'll have to not only find a way to eat a little bit consistently throughout the race, but to also consume foods that will deliver glucose straight to my muscles while sitting easily in my stomach, requiring minimal digestive energy, and being neutral enough that I won't be repulsed by the food after a few hours of consistent consumption. I'll be aiming to consume between 100-200 kcals per hour, likely more on the front end and less towards the end.

So the line-up looks as such (and reads like every 8 year old's dream diet, except maybe the coffee, Vfuel, and broth):

• Gel flasks of Vfuel - about 50 kcals per hour 
• Crust-less Nutella sandwiches on white bread
• Vfuel oat balls (see below for the recipe)
• Coca cola 
• Starbucks Via instant coffee with vanilla vfuel 
• Lemon-lime Skratch
• Boiled potatoes
• Potato chips
• M&Ms and Snickers, as needed
• S-caps (for electrolytes)

But of course that's just a general plan. And I really have no idea how it will go. However, the oatballs are delicious right now, and below is the recipe:

VFuel Oatballs

2.5 C dry oatmeal

2/3 C Vfuel (pick your favorite flavor)

1/3 C honey

1.5 tsp vanilla

2 tsp cinnamon

1/4 C almond butter

1/2 C chocolate chips

Mix together, cover and refrigerate for an hour. Form into balls and store in the fridge or freezer until ready for consumption.

Is there anything more torturous than the taper?

A friend of mine, a few days before Karl Meltzer's Speedgoat 50K, threw up a facebook post: "Is there anything more torturous than the taper? Methinks not." That about sums it up. For like 15 gazillion reasons. But that's too many to discuss, and I definitely made up that number (but I'm still not convinced it's an over-exaggeration). Five is a nice round number though, so here are the top five reasons I hate tapering, even though I woefully long for it during every final week of high mileage I run before any race.

Courtesy of the Oatmeal

1. I'm still hungry! You'd think that running less, and therefore burning less calories, would mean that I might possibly have some let-up from the 24/7 hunger beast that haunts my life and forces me to the fridge over and over to scrounge for food. But nope. Sitting in class the other morning, following 3 (small'ish) breakfasts and a run of roughly half the distance I would normally have covered this morning, I was so hungry I could barely concentrate. I ate two banana
s on the 10 minute drive to class. That lasted me five minutes. The legs still demand feeding.

2. I have SO much more free time. Sounds awesome right? Wrong. Because when I have free time, I want to go run and hike and ride my bike and climb some rocks. Except, oh wait, I'm tapering. And supposed to be letting my legs recover. So, um, substituting a 20 mile run for a 50 mile bike ride probably isn't the appropriate response. Except that it's taking every fiber of my being to not go do that.

3. I'm almost back to being well rested. Which is awesome. Except see #2. I finally have the energy to want to go and have epic (well probably not quite epic) outdoor adventures. And, well, see #2.

4. My legs also don't seem to have the energy to do my shorter and easier workouts. Probably because I've spent every waking moment since tapering began a whopping 4 days ago feeling just a bit on edge and antsy because of the one day I took off and all the extra sleep I've gotten in the interim.

5. Oh hey! Race day is now right around the corner. And all at the same time, I want the race to be here right.now and I also really really really want an extra month of training before I have to start tapering. I'm not actively stressed out or nervous - yet - but I'm also not exactly relaxed and ready for it to be race day yet. Kinda like limbo. Just sitting around and waiting.

Oh and in other news - my mileage for July was 316 miles. A whopping 60 miles more than any other month I've ever run. Boom. 16 days until Leadville.

100 mile week or how to run while sleeping

So, ok, guys. I ran one hundred miles. In one week. 100 miles. In Seven Days.

looking down towards Twin Lakes from Hopeless

I hit 100 miles as a rolling 7 day total on Thursday of last week. And 103 miles as a rolling 7 day total on Friday of last week. And then a measly (haha, just kidding) 97.67 miles for my weekly Sunday-Saturday mileage on Saturday. And rather than celebrating that fact, I instead felt a wave of relief that I'd pulled it off. I mean, if I could cover that distance in one week, I have an exponentially higher chance of not just finishing Leadville, but of finishing it without completely dying (and without trudging up Powerline at such an obscenely slow pace that my total badass of a pacer wants to punch me in the throat). But it's also kind of a big deal that I ran 100 miles. Because that is the furthest I have ever run over one 7 day period. Ever. I definitely had some ice cream to celebrate.

For Hope Pass, follow the arrow pointing towards Hope.

It wasn't fast. It kind of wasn't pretty. I definitely was 80% of the way asleep for an entire 9.2 mile run (just ask "Kind of a Big Deal" Kristel Liddle and The Erskine). Like eyes drifting shut as I was still moving in a forward trajectory. I also started this 100 mile week directly off of a weekend in Silverton pacing and crewing at the Hardrock 100, where I maybe packed in 5 hours of sleep over a 65 hour time period. Because, why wouldn't I want to make a 100 mile week any more challenging than it needed to be?

In other news..24 days until the Pbville100.