A constitutional recap

Coming off of a weekend being surrounded by fast trail runners makes me want to be fast(er).

Bryce and I and four other friends did a trail relay race up on Orcas Island at the beginning of the month. The Moran Constitutional Relay definitely did not disappoint.

There was such a positive spirit among all the runners. We stayed in bunks right next to the main race head quarters, which was where the start/finish was, so it was all super convenient — and allowed us to soak in everything in a relaxed manner!

The race is about 70 miles total, divided into 12 legs. So, with a team of six, we each ran two legs. Mine were legs #1 and 6, which were both on the first day so I actually had no running on the second day!

The weather was perfect on Saturday. Cool in the morning but the sun came out. I had breathtaking views at the top of Mt. Constitution during my second leg.

But, let me start from the beginning.

I kicked off the race for my team at 7:30 am and although I tried to start conservatively, everyone started out super fast, so I ended up going out way too fast. I found myself completed winded and out of breath after a mile. This leg was 5.9 miles total and I quickly started delving into a “dark place.” What if I have to walk the rest of the way? What if I finish last? What if I can’t finish?

There were rolling hills and I definitely walked a lot. But, this helped in lowering my heart rate and mentally calming myself down. Several runners passed me, saying “nice job” or another form of encouragement. I carried on.

Eventually the course flattened out — thank goodness! I started getting into a groove and dug myself out of my “dark place.” About at the half way point, another runner passed me but I could always see her up in the distance, which was helpful. I no longer felt completely alone.

Part of the leg went alongside a lake. It was still not that bright out since it was early morning but the calmness of the lake was nice. I could hear cheering as I got closer and closer to the exchange point. With about a mile to go, I really kicked it in and picked up the pace. And, not that it really mattered, but I passed a good handful of runners in the last half mile or so. What a difference the beginning and the end of my leg felt!

My team was waiting and cheering me in when I got to the exchange. Alex started on leg 2 and my job (for now) was done.

Around noon, I started leg 6, my last leg of the race. Because my teammate I was exchanging with was a speedster, Maria was waiting for me at the exchange when I arrived! As soon as we saw her waving her arms, adrenaline kicked in and I was frantically taking off my jacket and sprinted towards her.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m late!” I yelled at her as she handed me the timing chip.

Despite the frantic start, I enjoyed this second leg much better.

It was uphill all the way — 1,724 feet elevation gain —  but I went into this leg knowing I would be walking/hiking quite a bit. This leg was 3.1 miles total.

The first mile was definitely the steepest with mostly walking sprinkled in with just the tiniest bit of jogging. I passed two other runners who were chatting together.

The signage on the course was great so I never was concerned about getting lost. However, as I progressed up the mountain, I suddenly started coming across other runners … coming towards me. I continued along the path but, of course, was worried I had made a wrong turn. Why am I the only one going this way and everyone else is running in the opposite direction?

Well, turns out that the next leg goes back the way I was going. All these runners coming towards me were running a different leg! Phew, I felt better once another runner passed me who was doing the same leg as me.

The last bits to the top of the mountain were draining but the views were so worth it. I wanted to stop and take it all in but I knew Bryce was waiting at the top to run the next leg. I kept going and was rewarded with this view at the top.

Day 2 of the relay didn’t have the same great weather. It was cloudy and rainy off and on. But, my team still killed it.

We surprised ourselves and ended up placing 13th out of 52 teams! Also, our day 2 standing was 9th overall. Not bad for a group of friends that included a new trail runner, someone who joined our team a month from race weekend, one who was coming off a cold and a few who “didn’t really train.”

First race after 20 months of injury: A success story

It really couldn’t have gone any better than it did.

I was nervous — about the weather — as the four of us drove from Seattle to Whidbey Island in mixed snow and rainfall Saturday morning.

“She better be right!” Phyllis, my friend, who will also be my maid of honor, yelled from the back seat. Her husband, Andrew, sat next to her.

The “she” Phyllis was referring to was our wedding venue manager. Our wedding is going to be on Whidbey this summer and the venue manager has told us several times that even if the weather is crappy down south/at the ferry dock, it is always nice inland on the island.

This fact proved accurate on race day. I really hope it proves accurate on the wedding day as well.

I bumped into a few friendly faces at the Fort Ebey Trail Race before the start, so that was a nice surprise. Though everyone I knew, including my friends and Bryce, were all running the 10K. I had about 15 minutes of waiting by myself in the extremely cold wind for my 5K to begin. This is when the self-doubt kicked in.

What if lots of people pass me? What if my knee starts hurting really badly? What if I have to walk a ton?

Finally it was time for us 5K-ers to line up at the start. As the group of us stood there practically shivering, I reconsidered my choice to not wear gloves and my earwarmer headband.

We started the race with a small loop along the bluff, which was annoying but helpful since it helped disperse runners before we got to the narrow single-track trail. Once running in the forested trail, I felt warmer not being out by the water and the wind. My fingers and toes were starting to thaw out but my nose was a running mess.

I leaned forward to attempt a snot rocket — without it hitting the runner right behind me. This was a mistake. I (thankfully) did not hit the runner behind me but in an awkward maneuver to move forward while shooting a snot rocket, I lost my footing and tripped on a root in the ground.

Now my left ankle really hurt. I sort of limp-jogged, wondering if I should step to the side of the trail to let those directly behind me pass. Because at this point we had only been running for about five minutes or less. Nah, I’m fine, I thought. Channeling all the Olympic figure skating I had watched in the past week, I figured if skaters can land jumps awkwardly on their ankles yet continue their routines flawlessly, I can continue running on a rolled ankle.

After a few minutes, the throbbing ankle pain went away and it just continued to be sore, which was fine by me. Plus, my lungs were getting a beating — from my lack of being in shape — so, I eventually forgot about my ankle pain.

As I continued, there were a few runners directly in front of me. The woman immediately in front of me had a windbreaker tied around her waist that kept obstructing my view ahead of the trail. After running through a pile of mud that I could have easily avoided had I been able to see it, I decided to run ahead of her.

After I passed her, I continued on and passed one or two other runners. Overall, I was feeling pretty good. I was running!

Halfway through, I’ll be honest, I was getting tired. I started doubting my fitness and was worried that the people I had passed would catch up to me.

I even walked some parts of the last mile. Yes, I admit that I walked during a 5K! But, there were a few steep parts on that 5K course!

In the last quarter-mile, I could see that there was another women close behind me. With every wide turn, I could either see her out of the corner of my eye or hear her.

My competitive nature, which really only comes out while racing, kicked in.

I will not let her beat me. 

Why this particular person? Probably because the entire race, no other female runner had passed me — just two or maybe three guys did.

Once I was out of the woods and the trees started to clear, I knew I was close to the finish. Eventually the finish line became visible and I could see and hear spectators cheering.

This is it. Time to finish this. 

I sprinted the last few (or several?) meters with a smile. As soon as I got out of the finish chute, I realized that not many people were standing around. I walked over to one of the aid tents and asked a volunteer if any of the 10K runners had finished yet.

“Nope. Just a few 5K finishers so far. You’re early!” she said.

Her comment made me feel pretty darn proud.

I hit the portapotty, got some electrolyte drink and posted up near the finish to watch Bryce, Phyllis and Andrew finish their 10K races. Bryce came flying in, beating the guy behind him by a handful of seconds. Phyllis and Andrew later arrived running side by side looking very happy and cute.

Overall, it was a great day of running for everyone.

And, to my great surprise, I finished second overall in the women’s division! (Bryce won third in the 10K, too).

“And you say you’re injured?” everyone kept saying to me as I held my “second place” mug I was awarded that I had filled with popcorn.

Maybe it was just luck, or the fact that only about 50 women ran the 5K race, but I did podium. And, while my knee did feel achy after I had completed the race, it really wasn’t that bothersome during the race.

I guess I’m officially not injured anymore?

Ragnar Trail Rainier Race Recap

I may be destined to never fully race a Ragnar Trail race.

Last year at Ragnar Trail Cascades, I had just recently learned of my stress fracture so I obviously was not running. I still captained my team and took our volunteer shift. I also walked the shortest loop and Bryce and another teammate took my other longer legs.

It was fun — it was my team’s and my first trail relay — but it was also a bit unsatisfying for me. After all, I didn’t get to run any of the trails that everyone else did and see everything that everyone else did. It was like a got a watered-down version of the whole race experience.

This time was a step up but was was still not what I thought it would be when I registered my team a year ago.

Again, I was the injured runner on our team.

However, because Ragnar Trail Rainier was such a tough, hilly course, I decided to walk all of the legs. (OK, OK to be fair, Bryce walked my night-time eight mile all down-hill leg with me. And, OK, OK to be honest, I ran a few bits of flat trail and my knee felt OK!)

The race was at Crystal Mountain, which I had never been to. It’s beautiful there! The trails were beautiful but yes, they were a beast. (I am proud to say that I passed so many people by just power hiking though!) I felt bad to be slowing my team down with all of my walking. But, needless to say, the course was tough for everyone. My team actually ended up placing 47th overall out of about 300 registered teams (and with 184 teams that officially finished the race!)

The weather was perfect. The company was even better. We never missed a single exchange, no one complained and we just had a great time out in nature.

I’m not registering for any more races until I am fully healed and running again. So, I don’t know when my next Ragnar Relay will be but my friends and I have been jokingly talking about doing the Hawaii Ragnar at some point. I have no objections to that.

I just need to get running again first.

But, for one brief moment at this race, I did feel (and sort of looked) like a runner again:

The Trail Mixers take on Ragnar Trail Cascades

I wasn’t sure how the race weekend would play out — after all, while my teammates and everyone else would be running and tackling elevation climbing, I’d just be captaining, race volunteering and walking. No running for this injured runner.

Ragnar Trail Cascades was cancelled due to forest fires last year. It was a brand new race and we were all excited to run and participate. My team decided to transfer our race entry over to this year’s race. This time I’m sidelined with a stress fracture. (I may just be forever cursed to never actually run this race!)

It’s an all-day/all-night trail relay race where teams of eight people complete a total of 132.8 trail miles. Each person runs three legs of three marked loops. Your campsite is your home base, not a stinky van like the road Ragnar races.

Even though I couldn’t personally run, I had a good time.

The race started Friday and I kicked off our team by speed-walking the first (easy) 2.7-mile leg. It kind of felt like the walk of shame as I took off from the start/finish/transition area, so I jogged my way out and then started walking once I turned the corner.

Good news, my knee did not hurt at all from this 10-20 step slow jog!

My team didn’t allow ourselves enough time to check-in/actually arrive two hours before our race start time, so the rest of my teammates were unloading our car and setting up camp as I walked. The course was very well marked and easy to navigate (in the daylight at least!)

I felt a little weird when other runners passed me enthusiastically saying “Nice job!” since I was just walking. But, I tried not to read too much into it. And, I always stepped off to the side to allow them to easily pass me. I did surprisingly end up getting one kill (Ragnar terms for passing another runner) so there’s that!

I finished my loop a little after 12 noon and there was a bit of confusion with our transition as I had to rush out of the transition tent and find my team/tell Joanna it was her turn to run. I guess I walked faster than we all anticipated, which was evident by my glutes kind of being sore the next day!

Bryce and Andrew picked up my two other legs. So yes, they ran four total legs rather than the normal three. (Huge props, and thank-yous to them!)

Many of my teammates said the red (hardest 7-mile loop) was the most fun and better than the short one. One of my teammates ran along side a cow “pacer” at one point. No one from my team had any falls or injuries, so I’d call that a pretty successful run. We also lucked out and finished Saturday morning right before it started to rain!

Also, small brag: We finished 13th overall with very little to no training! Our total time was 22 hours 27 minutes (and 27 seconds).

We had packed some card games, and I even packed a book since I wasn’t running, but honestly there really wasn’t much “down time” as you would expect. Most of us had done road relays where you have to drive from point-to-point so we expected this race to be a little less intense in that sense.

Yes, not driving was great! But, you still had to keep an eye on time and make sure you didn’t miss your next runner coming into the transition area. My one friend/teammate Brent put it best: It’s like you’re all in one van so there’s no time to rest! (Those who have done a road relay will understand his comment).

My volunteer time in the transition tent Friday afternoon was really fun (and dusty!) Although I had to touch many sweaty wrists to remove slap bands indicating the loop the runner had just completed, I was happy to help. And, it was fun seeing some of my teammates start/finish as well as strangers. I tried not to think too much into “how great it was for everyone to be running” and “poor me for not being able to run.”

I’m not sure if all my friends would want to do this race again just because they would be running the exact same loops again (obviously unless the race course were updated). But, I am definitely looking forward to either actually running this trail relay in the future or fully participating in another one. Oahu Trail Ragnar 2018, anyone??

Anchorage Marathon: Hilly, Lonely but Beautiful

I have never walked during a marathon. I’ve always been in the “just keep running, even if it’s barely a jog”-camp. During the Anchorage Marathon, I walked five times—that I remember!

It wasn’t my prettiest race, but it was the prettiest marathon I’ve done.

For someone who was debating whether or not to even do the full marathon or drop down to the half marathon due to my IT band/knee injury two weeks ago, I’m proud with how it turned out: that I finished.

The Beginning: Running Together

In my head, the game plan was to stick with Joanna until the half-way point. Before my knee injury fiasco (now about a month ago,) our goal had always been to run a sub-4 hour time together. This would mean our pace would be at about 9 minute/mile. We’ve trained and have completed three marathons together in the past. This would be no different, except this time we would reach that time goal.

I knew running 9’s the entire race would be pushing it for my poor left knee. That’s why my personal goal was to stick with Joanna until the half and just see how I feel from there on out.

However, that’s not what happened.

It was perfect race weather at the start. Sunny, but not too hot. We were running in the Last Frontier, surrounded by beautiful mountain ranges! We saw Bryce, his mom, and Joanna’s boyfriend Dan at about the 4-mile mark. I was feeling good. My knee didn’t hurt, except for a “funny feeling” behind the knee. (To note, I had never experienced any sort of feeling behind the knee before. It felt stiff).

Joanna and I waved at our fans, going stride for stride together. After we passed them, we took on a short hill on a road that we were running.

Eventually we met up with a gravel trail. It was mile 6 and this is when Joanna mentioned she didn’t feel “quite right.” I asked her if it was her stomach but she said it was more like she just felt like she didn’t have any energy. We kept on running together but our 9 minute pace dropped to 9:30, then 10.

This isn’t good, I thought to myself. I told Joanna that at the next aid station, she should take the energy drink (despite it tasting like medicine when we took a swig of it at a prior aid station).

At the mile 9 (I think) aid station, Joanna took a cup of energy drink and stopped to walk and drink. I stopped to take a rock out of my shoe.

If we aren’t going to PR together, we may as well run slowly together.

But then Joanna decided that she actually needed to take a walking break.

“You go on ahead,” she said.

I asked her if she was sure and that it didn’t really matter because it wasn’t like I was going to PR in this state. She insisted. She said it would make her feel worse if I stayed back with her.

“Ok, see you at the finish,” I said as we high-fived each other.

The Middle: Running Worried

After I went off on my own, I picked up the pace. I got back down to 9’s and kept at that pace. My knee didn’t hurt but felt tender. Even though my physical therapist told me this wasn’t going to be a PR race, it didn’t mean I couldn’t give it my all, right? (I hope she’s not reading this!)

Two Team In Training coaches found me a little after mile 9 and mile 10. The first coach ran with me just for what felt like a few seconds but I didn’t mind because I felt “relatively good.” I told her I was more worried about my friend and teammate, Joanna, and if she could keep a look out for her. The second coach I came across ran with me for a bit longer. We chatted a bit and I also told him to look out for Joanna. He assured me that he would.

I was still running on the gravel trail and there were some rolling hills. Nothing too horrible. The sun felt a little stronger but I kept going on. I wasn’t sure where I would see my cheer squad next but it was around mile 13 and I was so happy to see them.

I’m not one to stop during a race when I see my friends/family cheering for me but I did this time. Bryce told me to keep walking so I walked with him as I told him what happened to Joanna. I wanted to stop and hang with them longer, I wasn’t tired but felt bummed to be running by myself when Joanna was struggling.

I didn’t know this because I wasn’t paying too much attention to my Garmin, but Bryce says I was still on pace to sub-4 at the half-way point.

The Second Half: The Ugly Miles

It’s getting kind of hard for me to remember everything.

The course took us from the gravel trail to actual mountain dirt trails. As I slowly jogged up a hill, I cursed under my breath that this wasn’t supposed to be a trail race, despite looking and feeling like one. I took a pit stop at a porta-potty around mile 14 or 15.

At mile 16, I started experiencing actual IT band pain. I pushed through.

Then at mile 18 it started hurting significantly more, although the pain shifted from the IT band (so outer side of my knee) to the knee cap.

I saw my cheer squad for the final time at mile 18. The course was now along a major road. I stopped running while they cheered and took photos and encouraged me.

“Can I just wait here for Joanna?” I pleaded to them. “I’ll just wait here so I can run with Joanna.”

Bryce and Dan told me to keep on going, that Joanna was at least 10 minutes behind me. (Little did we know that she was more like 30 minutes or more behind me). Bryce told me that the first Team In Training marathoner was just “a ways” in front of me. He told me I could still catch him if I tried. Then I could be the first Team In Training finisher, he exclaimed.

“Do it for Jo!” Dan added.

Bryce filled up my water bottle and I went on my way. I wasn’t really that serious on catching the guy since he was no where in sight, but I guess I could keep running.

However, from mile 19 on, I was in a lot of pain. Not only did my knee hurt, my legs were shot. I suppose the last four weeks of limited running due to my injury had caught up to me. I felt out of shape.

Everyone around me appeared to be in pain as well. It felt like a zombie death march to the finish. We were now away from the road and on a concrete bike path. I tried to stay on the side of the path where the surface was softer. Maybe it would alleviate the pain in my knee. It didn’t.

There was an aid station at mile 21.95 but prior to it there was a small incline. This was the first time I walked. I walked 10 steps. I know this because I counted. Then when I arrived at the aid station, I stopped and walked to the porta-potty. I didn’t really have to pee but I wanted an excuse to rest.

Another Team coach was waiting for me. She asked me how I was doing. I told her I hurt. I forget what she said back to me. She gave me a salt tablet. I continued on.

Mile 21.95 to 26 were lonely and slow. They made me question why I decided to do the full. But, they also gave me time to reflect on all the people who helped me get to this point. I thought about all my fellow teammates who were also running or had finished their races in Seattle that same day. Thinking about all these people made me feel better, but I was still in a lot of pain.

The Finish: The Cruel, Cruel Finish

I knew going into this race that there was a hill “right before the finish.” What I didn’t know was that there would be THREE hills right before the finish. I’m talking less than a mile before the finish and that last hill is literally RIGHT BEFORE THE CHUTE.

If I had cried during any point of the race, it would have been at this point. But, I was too tired. I decided to take the trail runner’s racing mentality and walked up the first hill, and then second hill and even that last hill. No one around me was running up these beasts.

As soon as I walked to the top of the third and final hill, I could see the finish. The cheering became louder and my infamous kick came through. I sprinted through the finish chute and somehow managed to smile. I smiled because I was doing it. I was about to finish my race. I smiled because my coaches told us all to smile at the finish and I try my best to be obedient!

I sprinted past a few people right at the end. It was finally over.

I walked through the rest of the chute and came up to a table and immediately took three dixie cups of water. It was like taking shots, but of water. I received my medal and my finisher’s shirt.

My friends Alex and Liz found me right away. Liz had done the half marathon. And my Team In Training mentor, Marie, also came up and congratulated me. I immediately started unloading all of my stuff (water bottle, medal, etc.) to my friends. I took off my race bib to hand off to someone.

As eager as I was to finish that race, I was to go back into it. I had to go back out to run Joanna back into the finish. We could still finish together.

But then the worst part of the race occurred. Alex or someone else told me Joanna wasn’t going to finish. She had dropped out.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. 

My heart sank and felt heavy. I was tired and felt even more defeated.

We went back to the mile 19 mark, where Joanna’s race ended, to pick her up. She had been throwing up on the course and eventually had to stop. A stomach bug she had the week before was apparently still with her.

This race just wasn’t meant to be. If my knee had been fully functioning, it wouldn’t have felt like a victory if I reached my goal time but Joanna didn’t even finish. And, I can’t imagine she would have felt good racing a PR if I came in with my slowest marathon time ever. (Yes, that’s what happened in Anchorage, I clocked in at 4:27:53, which is my slowest time out of 8 marathons completed).

I have more races left in me. I’m not going anywhere. Joanna and I have many more miles to train and race together.

Also, everyone told me going into this race how Anchorage is a net downhill race. It did not feel like that! Even if I had been healthy, this would have been a darn hard course to PR.

But, this race was never about PR’ing, even though sub-4 is a goal I have had for a few years now. This race wasn’t even about finishing.

Joanna and I raised ~$7,000* together with the help of friends, family, teammates, colleagues and strangers for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. This is money that will go directly to blood cancer patients and research. We had a pretty solid marathon training cycle (minus my injury at the end).

I’m proud that we did all that and showed up to the race.

This one’s for you, Natalie.

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*The ~ is because money is still coming in through some company matches. Thank you to all who donated and supported us!