Breaking Point

The irony of my last post is not lost on me. I should be racing right now. Actually I would be in Zone 3a to be more specific...not quite "racing" yet. Macdonald Forest was going to be my first race run according to the plan set out by Scott, my coach. For the first time I was going to approach a 50k with a HR and nutrition plan. Instead I'm reaping the combined results of over-training and poor judgement.

What I was hoping was just another ache and pain of my body adapting to ultra-running has turned out, according to the bone scan, to be a stress injury. Those in the know are assuring me it's not a stress fracture. But before I could say the words, "I'll ice it," I was warned it could quickly become a fracture if not rested. So here I am. In the best fitness of my life and I'm side-lined. Many will say, "I knew this running wasn't good for you," or "You're getting too old to do what you used to do," or "This is a sign, really, why don't you just take it easy and take up knitting?"

It's these "helpful" comments that leave me speechless and frustrated. The injury is just that, an injury. It is a sign, but it's not a death to activity warrant. After taking a close look at my activities and stress levels during the past month I can understand the factors that lead to this hurdle. I will learn, adapt, change and grow. This, in turn, will make me stronger. If our answer is always to quit what makes us uncomfortable or sets us back we slowly stop learning, improving and growing. I realize as I get older my body will be able to do less. But I refuse to let my numerical age dictate a set plan of exertion levels. So, if you want to ask about the injury, that's fine, let's talk about your experience, recovery options, the bright side- surf is calling.

The office manager at Epic Imaging worked with me to schedule a bone scan with only one day's notice. She smiled when I walked in. As I thanked her for squeezing me in, explaining about my race the next day, she nodded. "Don't worry I understand. I have to get foot surgery, but I'm training for the Hood to Coast walk, so I'm waiting until afterwards to get the surgery." I sat down and smiled. She gets it. Physical limitations are sometimes temporary, sometimes with us for the span of our lives in some shape or form. It's the process of over-coming these limitations that motivates and inspires us to continue our passion. This can be found at any level of sport. These are the people I'm drawn to. And these are the opinions I value.

Flexibility is always stronger than rigidity. I don't know about you, but I feel great after a 30 minute run. Thirty minutes on the couch leaves me stiff.

Choice.

Ego is my rabbit...

I drove home from work today excited and pumped to get my 2 x30 minute hill repeats done. The sun was shining, I slept the night through, and thought only briefly of the crossfit workout I checked before leaving work. My fellow crossfitters were meeting at the track for 3 x 800's. Hmm...that sounded fun, but I have a goal and work to do. I met Troy to get into my car and recover my belongings...what amazing luck! The police found my stolen car after a month and all of my belongings were intact!! After a quick breakfast for the girls and myself I changed into my trail shoes. Caleb called.

He did the morning Crossfit workout. He smoked his 800's getting 2:30's and faster. Then he casually mentioned he thought I could be faster than the fastest woman so far. Her 800's were in the 330 range. He knows my math is atrocious and explained that I could easily do this. I told him I had a workout to do. He said he knew and that was too bad. I hung up. It took me all of 5 seconds to decide. I knew what I had to do. I called Ronda about 10 times looking for validation and enabling like a good friend will do, but she was no where near her phone. She was doing her PRESCRIBED workouts for the day. "Girls, I'm sorry...I have an appointment with a stopwatch." Emma shook her head sadly as Zoe gave me the evil eye. I tried not to notice as I took off the trail shoes and replaced them with my road shoes. I changed my shirt for good measure to the "Run like a girl" Montrail t-shirt. It's become my lucky t-shirt. I grabbed my keys, water, gu and went to warm-up. Caleb arrived just as I was finishing the first lap of my first 800. "1:16" I was in trouble...too fast. But on the second lap I held it together long enough to catch that furry little ego bunny. I finished in 2:45. That's fast for me. I couldn't keep the pace for the final two. I clocked a 2:57 and 2:55. The last one had even splits. With my ego soothed I called Ronda to confess my transgression.

She said that's great and her voice told me everything I needed to know. Those 800's weren't getting me out of my hill repeats and those hill repeats that I was looking forward to earlier this morning, were now going to HURT. The phrase, "You gotta pay to play," entered my mind. I went back home, grabbed the dogs, and off we went towards our 7-9% grade hill to run up it 2 times at threshold.

So as not to keep anyone on the edge of their seat I did finish my workout. I could not get my HR up to 168 on the first repeat, but did push hard at 156 for 30 minutes. The 25 minute downhill was like chocolate, chips, and a great kiss all rolled into one. The lactic acid cleared and I had some legs for the second repeat. For our second trip I started a little farther downhill and managed to get my HR up to 166. The 30 minutes brought us in sight of the gate at the top of our hill.

I learned my lesson. As Ronda reminded me I don't want to make a habit of writing checks my body can't cash. Those all out sprints at Max HR are fun and yeah, make you feel good when you catch some high fives for the numbers, but they will not serve me in the long run. Remembering my long-term goal, The Tetons, and sticking to the plan is going to give me the best chance of competing at my potential. But living in the moment and running a 2:45 makes me feel pretty damn good too.

Now- does anyone want to help me clean my house? Because that was on the list of "to do's" as well.

Learning to love numbers

I went back to OHSU to get another VO2Max Test on Thursday. Last November I was less than thrilled to hear my VO2 Max was 51 and Threshold HR was 155. My "Numbers" have never been exceptional. Which is why I've always chosen to rely on Heart, thinking that never-give-up mentality would take me a heck of a lot further than having a VO2 Max better than him or her. Somehow seeing the numbers felt more limiting than encouraging. The science told me what my limits were. I didn't want to know. Because if you don't know, you can accomplish anything right? Childlike, perhaps, but it had served me relatively well in my athletic pursuits. I've changed my mind.

I'm 37 years old. Yes, 37. I'm running longer and faster than I ever thought I could. I'm working hard no doubt about it. But when I falter, or want to slow down, there is something else besides that beating organ that I've become obsessed with through my watch, pushing me forward. It's numbers. It's knowing I am physically capable of running the last 6 miles of my three hour run at 7:40's because I've run faster in my tempo runs. Now I think merely, "I've done it before, I can do it again." My taxed heart has only to beat accordingly as my mind blocks the excuses and reasons to stop. Numbers don't have to limit us. I think the key is not to be attached to the meaning we put into them. 53.6 isn't a good or bad VO2 Max. It's a where I'm at right now. My threshold went up to 166. I'm using 86% of my capacity. There is room for improvement. Nothing limiting there. 7:40 miles aren't fast or slow. They are just the tools I'm using to get faster. And I am getting faster. So next time you think..."Oh she's just doing 7:40 miles," you better look over your shoulder because that was yesterday and I'm coming for you. ;] Cheers.

Free Day

It's interesting what we do with our time when we think we have all the time in the world vs when we believe our time is not our own. I went in to work today on my Kelly Day. Kelly Day's are a day off from work without having to use your own vacation. Usually I watch and plan for these days like a hawk. This month I was so distracted I didn't even realize today was my Kelly Day. When I showed up at work, everyone had a good laugh. Then I stepped back into my car and headed home. Today I can do anything. I thought I would be held at work for 24 hours. Instead I started planning: the workouts, the time with the dogs, and even building those raised beds for my garden. I decided to start the day off at Crossfit. The WOD was:

21-15-9 Reps of: Row (21 calories)
Push Press (85pounds)
GHD Sit-ups

Nick inspired the morning group by finishing in 9:40 on his own! I stepped onto the rowing machine feeling strong and focused. I felt an intensity that I sometimes lack and realize comes from knowing I have a choice and have come to this workout with focus and intention. In other words, I didn't happen to be driving by, or decide to come because someone else talked me into it. I arrived with a plan and that drove me to success. For the rest of the day I plan on practicing actions with intention. I have the luxury of a free day to practice. I hope to carry on tomorrow, and the next day. Returning to work on Friday, the challenge will be maintaining my focus and intention in the workplace. I'm challenging myself to remain engaged in my choices and actions. Two quotes come to mind. One I've put at the heading of my blog- Bob Marley's, "Wake up and Live." The other, just as important, and sometimes harder to remember and practice, is Thich Naht Hanh's "Be free where you are."

It's all choice. So simple. So challenging. So rewarding.

Chuckanut 50K

Even though this was technically my third 50k, it felt like my coming out party. When we arrived race morning with our "Black Saturday, No Excuses" shirts I could tell by the high amounts of chi flowing from the ground up, except for that muddy part Ronda ran through, Ronda, Michael, Steve, Trisha, Darin and I would be quite a force that day. The rain had us changing layers right up until race start. Then, magically, the rain stopped and didn't make another appearance the remainder of the day.

With the first and last six miles of the race being mostly flat my head was already in a good place. Even though I knew we would make the equivalent of one Mt Hood ascent and back...the flats and downhills would offer welcome respit and leg turnover after the snail's pace climbing. And "Snail's Pace" is not just an expression here. People I passed on the run portions would leave me in their dust when we all walked. I wondered if I should purchase a walker or start training in the malls with the seniors because I couldn't walk fast enough to catch a car thief at this point.

As I mentioned the flats pulled me through. I followed Ronda and Michael's advice and ate a gu/hammer gel/or clif shot roughly every 30 minutes. I went through about four bottles of gu2o and or my glyco-maize mixed with heed. I kept my heart rate at 156 and that seemed manageable. At the start Michael took off in his speedy manner. I took off in my brain switched off start of the race manner. When I saw 160 flashing on the monitor I slowed down reminding myself that the race was 31 miles and there would be a good chance I would see everyone passing me another time during the course of the run. Ronda and Steve- both more experienced seemed cool and collected from the start.

After the first six miles I happily realized I had only a marathon to run. I've done that! And I knew at least 6 miles of that marathon would be flat...the last six. So I was pretty happy with whatever they would throw my way in the middle. Turns out "They" threw a beautiful, mossy, waterfalls, rocks, ferns, soft dirt trail scenic tour!! The run was fun. I was smiling and at mile ...who knows no one would tell me how far we'd run or had to go- are you really not supposed to ask this? Regardless...at some point, about halfway, I realized I was actively enjoying the run. I didn't even care that my butt looked 3 sizes bigger than usual because of the pockets sitting on top filled with gu's. Then, when, "What you gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk," came on the ipod I had to laugh out loud. And I wasn't "get[tting] you love drunk on my hump," I was passing you up, passing you up with my trunk!! As you can see it was all a highly intelligent and profound experience.

On a more serious note..I got to meet my new coach!! I look forward to having a plan and learning to walk...um fast, and climb...fast, and run those flats faster!! :]

Ronda caught me at the third aid station. I knew it was only a matter of time. She looked fresh and strong as I climbed to the ridge behind her. Her efficient energetic climbing style leaves me feeling tired and a bit clumsy. I was glad I couldn't hear my breathing to have to admit how hard I was working to keep up with her. Then, as we descended down a rocky portion, I took a different route putting me in front. It was one of those downhill, "rest" portions of the course. I knew if I didn't take advantage of it then I would be sorry later as I SLOWLY climbed up again. So I took off and didn't look back. In typical world class style Ronda cheered me onward.

On the last 6 mile stretch I was hurting. I remember Ronda telling me she did a faster split on this last year coming in than going out. That was not going to happen. BUT I had no intention of slowing down. I knew I could hold my heart rate at 156 for 6 miles because I've done it on Leif Erickson countless times with Emma and Zoe. Ok, so maybe we didn't run 25 miles prior, but I was in no mood or capacity for details. I started picking people off in the distance and trying to catch them. To my surprise, I caught one, then another, then there was a guy in black. I focused and started after him. Within a mile I realized it was Michael! Even though I could tell by his boppy, cruise-control stride he was rollin back in on the mellow I wasn't going to let that cloud the fact that I had caught up with him! I ran behind him for about 1/4 mile, hurting, while he jogged along. Finally, after "resting" on his heels a bit I reached out and said Hello as I tried to pass. He, in the same sincere style as Ronda, smiled huge and sent me on telling me how proud he was of me. This gave me a great boost of energy and I rode it for all it was worth. It got me about 10 feet. Inflation I guess...and the hill that didn't seem like a hill when we were going out. I pushed forward not about to let the woman, that had passed me and vice/versa many times during the race, pass me a final time. When I looked behind me one last time and no one was there I asked a bystander how far to the finish. He told me 90 yards!!! I smiled. I ran hard. I just RACED my first 50 K.

Next up: MacDonald Forest. Cheers and congratulations to all of my new and dear friends for finishing in style: Trisha, Ronda, Michael and Steve. Darin I hope to help you as much as you helped us Saturday. Thanks. K

Eat/ Sleep / Run / Kipping Pull-ups/ Surf ?

So I've been back for a month. I've gained three pounds. The running is coming back. My knee is getting better with the PT and stretching. My strength is taking it's time, apparently on extended vacation. All of this aside, things are good. The girls are fit, the house is our own and we are back on track.

Good thing. Because Chuckanut, the first race of the season, is right around the corner. On March 15th we are all heading up to Bellingham to run a 50k. I'm toying with the idea of hiring a coach. It's been three and a half years since the structure of Ironman and Marc Becker's coaching plans. I've enjoyed the hiatus but feel I'm not only ready, but looking for the direction and focus having a coach gives me. Oddly enough, I also miss the freedom of a plan. By freedom I mean I can concentrate on other things while at home...not.."What should I be running tomorrow?"

I've been talking about the 50 miler in the Tetons without a whole lot of thought into what it's going to take to train for this. I run with Ronda, Tom and Michael multiple days of the week and haven't even asked them. I wonder if I'm not quite prepared for the answer. How will crossfit fit into my training plan? What about my plans to get back to the beach occasionally for some surfing? The side effects of training and racing are slowly returning to my life and I haven't even made the conscious decision to go there.

Training, it seems, is just another form of gravity. It pulls you whether you're thinking about it or not. I've got a track workout tomorrow then I'm going to crossfit and I'll be damned if I can't get back up to at least 10 kipping pull-ups in a row. Pura Vida.

Salamet Mom.

The trip to the Philippines and Thailand with my mother was to be the first time in five years that I would bring neither a surfboard nor bicycle for an adventure with obvious intentions. I packed my running shoes, socks and sports bras before anything else, knowing these items would be necessary for every one's sanity and enjoyment. My enjoyment for running and theirs, especially my mom's, for not having to deal with me if I didn't run.

When I arrived in Manila- mom and I stayed at a pensione that she routinely visits when she has to come into the city. Of course she had talked to everyone and their neighbor about my visiting. People she probably didn't even know where smiling at me and wishing us a happy visit when we arrived. Gabby, the owner of the Pensione was especially kind and accommodating. I could tell he cared for mom, a running theme in the people I would meet, and while it didn't surprise me, it made it easier to know mom was surrounded by people who appreciated how special she truly is.

Nita met us in Kalibo and drove us back to Altavas. Nita is my Mom's host and a Physics teacher at the high school. She instantly reminded me of Mom. She was warm, intelligent and I felt right at home. At Nita's house I met her mother Nai Nai and Also Ruby and Li Li (I hope that is right.) They were all so sweet and smiling all of the time. We were only there for two full days. But I got to run in the mornings down the dirt road while passing rice fields, cows soaking in mud, and accompanied by the many stray dogs.

Since Mom was the only American in the town, everyone was curious about her daughter. As we moved through the market, visited the Mayor, the fire station, and the garden her kids worked so hard to create, I felt like a dignitary as I shook hands with all of these smiling people approaching me. I think I understand now what people mean when they say they felt humility in the face of such caring, open, loving people. They didn't know me, but because I was Alice's daughter, they welcomed me with genuine and enthusiastic warmth. Altavas was hot, and humid, and it was exhausting touring the small town at such a breakneck pace after having flown for 15 hours and no sleep.
Despite all of this, looking back, Altavas was my favorite part of the two weeks.

I almost forgot to mention the best part. I saw my mom, the woman who raised Tray and I by cutting every one's hair in the town of Cary from our basement 7 days a week, get up on stage and speak. She spoke eloquently and with confidence about the work her high-schoolers had done in the garden. She talked about teamwork, and coming together with the townspeople to plant the garden and raise the minouck (chicken). While she spoke I looked around the table and out into the garden where the kids and their families were gathered. Everyone was smiling up at her. I always knew my mom was strong, and independent, and had a great sense of adventure. But for the first time I saw her as a leader. I think about the challenges I face at work. My own insecurities as a supervisor. Seeing her assume that role with such ease and humor helped me realize I could do the same. The key is to be true to yourself. My mom has always been so good at that. I was often embarrassed of that as a child- the crazy hats, her loud laugh, the list goes on. It's ironic that I now know this to be one of my Mom's greatest strengths. She knows who she is and presents that same loud-laughing, smiling, woman to everyone she meets. My mother is incapable of pretension. If you don't like her, she will shrug her shoulders and move on. I still have so much to learn from her.

Thailand: The Islands were friendly and relaxing. The water was warm- great for kite-boarding. The massages were inexpensive and deep. The silk pillowcases, of which I bought too many for friends and family, were colorful, bright and cool. The stray dogs were happy and well-fed. The food, oh my god the food. I promptly stopped worrying about my diet and indulged while mom spent the first few days eating salads and other American Fare because she missed it so much. Our time in Thailand was spent on the beach. We were in areas catering to tourists and it was obvious. But after not seeing each other for two years and too much flying, driving and ferrying previous to our arrival, a little down-time with mom was exactly what I needed. We caught each other up on our lives, talked about Tracy's new house and how much we wished she could be sitting on the beach with us.

When I got home I didn't have stories of riding on elephants, seeing great temples, climbing mountains, or even catching one wave. I was at a loss when people asked me how the trip was and what we did. I think that's why it's taken me so long to write. I definitely want to go back to Thailand. I can see the country has so much to offer and experience. But this trip wasn't about any of the places I traveled to. It was about my mom. I hadn't seen her in two years. In the past two years she's become once again what she was to me during my childhood. She is my idol.