CrossFit First Day

After surviving the boot camp three weeks ago I finally went back for my first workout. Kevin did mention it had been a while since he saw me. I reminded him I had a 31 mile date with a river I had to go through before returning for more crossfithel.

Today was a relatively "easy" workout...so I hear. We warmed up with some dips, sit-ups and overhead squats. Then it was off to the races with 1000m of rowing, 50 thrusters with a 45 pound bar and 30 kip pull-ups...or box jumps to the bar in my case. I went through the sequence in 10 minutes 52 seconds. And that was it. My legs felt a little wobbly for the first 20 minutes of my easy run afterward, and I'm already a little sore in my quads and calves...but ready for more. :] Tomorrow on the track we will mix sprints with dips and push-ups. I'll try and get some photos up eventually.

One more day of detox and coffee and popcorn here I come! :]

McKenzie River Trail Run 2007

This was, without a doubt, the most scenic race I've had the opportunity to run. I went in hoping to run the course in 5 hours. I stated this goal without even really knowing the terrain, only that it was a gradual downhill. Since I'm a less than average climber I like to believe going gradually downhill is a specialty of mine. Yeah, well...there may really be an Easter Bunny too. My goal was to keep the heart rate below 155 for the first 30 minutes. Use that first few miles as a warm-up. I knew the initial leg of the run was a climb...so that would help me keep it slow. At eleven minutes in I knew I was in trouble with my heart rate at 170. I reined myself in a bit and let what seemed like EVERYONE pass me. From Sahalie Falls to the remainder of the race I worked on keeping my heart rate at or below 165.

Before the race Brett had warned he believed the course to be more technical than I was thinking. He was right. I chose to wait and find this out for myself. I only fell four times. Thankfully none of my falls were on the lava rock that seemed to not only pop up everywhere, but also seemed to reach up and grab the foot you swore you had lifted high enough to clear the rough, unforgiving obstacle. Even while I was bopping down the trail for the first 20 miles I could tell my enthusiasm and energy was not with me on this perfect day. The weather never got over 75 degrees. The race is mostly covered by moss-covered trees and you are in company of the rushing river for most of the race.

By mile 22-23 I was hurting. My joints were screaming from all the trail dancing due to rocks and the path itself that resembled a 1 mile bike race with at least 8 turns! By the time Brett saw me at the 4th aid station I warned him I was going to walk the last 6 miles. I could hear the wobble in my voice and knew if I didn't keep moving I would get into the car and just tell him to take me home. I was rationalizing what I would say to the guys at the station. I had almost convinced myself that I could deal with admitting to them that I quit 6 miles out and went home crying. "They would understand..."I thought. Clearly I was delusional. I drank some coke, then some water, then had an orange hammergel- yuk...not recommended. I asked the wonderful aid station hosts how many more miles. He lied, knowingly, and told me 5 more miles. I told him rhetorically, but not really, that I could do that. He agreed, "yes...you can." So I figured if anyone would know..he would. I continued .


The thought of Ronda, Stacey and Tom running this distance and then onward for another 69 miles entered my mind a few times. It brought a bit of comfort knowing I was only completing little more than a marathon. I was still walking...the last 6 miles were going to take a long time, especially since I started peppering the silence with self-indulgent grunts of pain and a very dramatic swaying motion. My little act caused me to fall, again, and then someone caught up to me, no shocker there. But this guy wasn't having it. "Oh no, you've been kicking my butt all day long you're not stopping now, come on!" I fell in behind him. He sounded like he knew what he was doing and what I should be doing too...I was tired of thinking and very impressionable at this point. I focused on his feet and shut my brain off. This proved very effective. In no time at all I had some energy. He asked if I wanted to pass and I declined. But when we came to a small hill he started walking, I passed him. I decided to leave the brain off for the time being and just focused on moving my feet and breathing. It felt like a lot, but I've always been good at multi-tasking.

I started seeing spectators who had walked in from the finish line. This pepped me up a little more. I have proof...my heart rate went from 154 to 155. I finally got the nerve to ask a guy how much further. He told me a couple hundred yards! Yeah! I bumped my pace up to what felt like 8min/miles but what was probably a cool 11:30 min/mile. At about 400 yards I saw another woman and she offered helpfully, without being asked,"You only have less than five minutes left!" Here was a dilemma. Do I finish the race? Or do I go back and find that guy that told me, "a couple hundred yards." Since Ultra runners seem, in my little experience, to be such positive, open-minded, friendly people I decided to continue forward. I was not above, however, silently cursing him. I realize it was immature and look forward to more growth and maturity on my part. Or more likely, not believing what people tell me when I'm running in these races. Were they lying about how good I looked too?



WArning: excuses/reasons/bodily function discussions to following

Upon finishing I didn't feel the usual high and elated relief. I felt completely depleted, exhausted, and emotionally spent. My time, unofficially in the 5:30's, was respectable and right on mark for what I'm capable of. But my extreme emotional reaction and the fact I drank close to a gallon of fluids following the race and didn't pee for roughly 2-3 hours after the race tells me I need some work in the fluid intake area. I wasn't as prepared as I should have been for this race. Looking back, I cavalierly believed this race would be similar to the Congo Run in Forest Park. I was very wrong. When I recover from this race and if I continue to go long I'll remember this lesson. Thanks Brett for awesome support and great camera work. :]