It was the best of times, it was the worst of…errr…no, not quite..

I came, I conquered….nope. Far from it.

Hmmm….I ran far, had a bunch of highs and lows, terrible stomach issues, and now I ache really bad with peeling sunburn on my face. Yea, I’d say that sums it up nicely.

Saturday I toed the line to the Graveyard 100, a new race that begins in Corolla, North Carolina and travels south ending in Hatteras, North Carolina. It wasn’t on the race schedule since I was signed up to run Umstead 100 in three weeks but the more I thought about it the more appealing it seemed so I went for it. Fair warning, this is a really long post with some TMI’s here and there.

After my burnout/DNF at Javelina Jundred last year training started a little slow. My Coach Amanda McIntosh and I decided it was best to take a break from hard training which was great timing for a two week vacation in Italy with my super hubby. Lots of cheese, meats, breads, wine and the like all over Italy may have been just what the doctor ordered since I hadn’t really taken a break from running in three years. Amanda and I met in January, discussed potential race goals, tactics, etc., and from there, we went to work. I can’t say enough great things about Amanda, her training approach is all based on heart rate training which in my opinion is the only way to train. And I love that she’s so incredibly calm about all of it. Her guidance is immeasurable.

Fast forward to race day. The start of the race was weird actually. After the national anthem and count down we were off and running. I knew I wanted to beat my PR and probably would but by how much was the big question. Amanda and I never talked about potential finish times. We have in the past but it hasn’t worked out and for some reason this time we left it off the list of things to discuss. Instead, during my final conversation with her on Thursday she suggested I run comfortably, not over do anything and focus on nutrition, breathing and remaining calm. Within the first mile I knew I was the front female which threw me for a loop considering I had just told my husband not to expect any leading from me. I battled with what to do. Slow down? Walk? Keep running? The agony. Finally, I remembered Amanda saying, “just run comfortably” so I took an easy breath and ran.

It was so beautiful as the sky lit up. I saw deer up in the sand dunes making me think of my husband who loves hunting… The course is really gorgeous. Through Corolla and Duck there are beautiful live oak trees which surprised me the first time I saw them since we’re right on the oceanfront. Each town is very charming with little shops, café’s and piers. As we made our way down the road it was also nice to see how polite the drivers were with us on the road. Brandon, the Race Director gave us a choice to run on bike path or against traffic on the road. For the most part, I ran the road using the bike path a few times to change things up a bit.

The Graveyard 100 is a point-to-point race which allows runners to decide on using a crew or running un-crewed. The only difference between the two meant that un-crewed runners could have drop bags at all of the aid stations. My husband was crewing me and later in the day Rachel and Brian would arrive to help crew and pace, more on these superheroes later..

Somewhere after the first marathon I noticed my fingers started swelling and my stomach started blowing up. At the next water stop I mentioned it to Russ and kept going. He got on the phone with Amanda to discuss. By the next water stop Russ yelled, “Amanda says for you to take more electrolytes.” Ok done. Unfortunately it was the beginning of a really long stretch of stomach issues. I’d been using Fizz and gels throughout training and it all worked perfectly but on race day the stomach wasn’t having any part. The fizziness kept making me burp up vomit and I was so nervous about getting it on my clothes and having to smell it for hours that my only recourse was to swallow it and then drink a bunch of water to get rid of the acid taste. It wasn’t the best option but smelling vomit is always the worst. It’s a never ending chain effect if you know what I mean. Not knowing how long this would last, stopping to change clothes wasn’t an option both because it’s time consuming and frankly it would ruin my black widow outfit with neon Newton’s look (Hey! Fashion before form…ok..kidding).  I kept running trying to scan my Brain for what I’d packed in the car. Seems I’d pack tons of Fizz, gels, three bottles of fruit juice, two bottles of chocolate milk and an avocado. Houston, we have a problem.

At the next water stop I asked for the fruit juice and what a nice reprieve in taste! Chugging down the entire 16oz bottle I kept going. Inside though I knew we would have to make adjustments soon with nutrition because running 100-miles on juice didn’t seem like a good idea. (Ultimately, the crew bought more juice and that's what I ran the race on).

Somewhere in the late 40’s my stomach bloating subsided and fingers started getting back to their normal boney size but then came the bout of diarrhea. Sigh…for the next 20-30 something miles I’d have to stop and use the bathroom frequently. Probably the only thing that went according to plan was that I’ve yet to have a race where I didn’t have stomach issues. It’s getting kind of comical. A couple times in training I had stomach issues and after getting through the run would come home excited because I had “trained” with stomach problems. Probably not the ideal but if you can’t beat it, join it and that’s what we did. Our goal for the race was to expect stomach issues and learn how to manage them as best as possible.

I think it was in Kitty Hawk when I came up on two people standing on a driveway cheering. At first glance I didn’t recognize them but as I got closer I saw it was Brian and Rachel, my pacers. Happy days were here again!! All of the stomach issues had me in a low and seeing them lifted me up high. I ran over to say hi and gave them hugs before they sent me packing down the road. For the next bunch of miles the smiles and hugs left me floating again. Brian paced me at the Rock N Roll Half last year when I ran a new PR so he already had experience running me into the ground. Rachel and I had done a couple training runs together and her triathlon experiences she shared keep inspiring me to reach for my own dreams too. These two are incredibly awesome and inspiring athletes. Last year Brian ranked 10th in his division at Ironman Kona, turned around and raced at Ironman Florida winning his age group and another Kona slot. Rachel also raced Ironman Florida and not only won her age group landing her a Kona slot but clocked the fastest female amateur course record by five minutes! To top off their stellar year, they got engaged on the IM FL awards stage, getting married soon and are living happily ever after. How’s that for a perfect fairytale!

Perhaps one of my biggest changes in training and racing has been attending the Newton Natural Running Coach Clinic at Running Etc. back in November. Doug Bertram, Director of Field Marketing at Newton Running gave an excellent presentation on natural running causing quiet a stir within me. His presentation blew me away and I hung on every word. The clinic filled in all of the blanks that I had-had for so long. I left the clinic that day and started practicing what I learned over and over again obsessively. What an incredible difference it’s made in my running. In a nutshell, I feel like I’m floating when I run and have to attribute the improvement to having better form. On Saturday, I thought a lot about Doug and his presentation. I could hear his voice about cadence, “ One-two-three one-two-three one-two-three” and how he described the segway feeling of falling forward. In the later stages of the race I went into form mode because Doug told us when we get tired, focusing on form is critical to not wasting valuable energy. He had even told us that when he stops during his own races he takes a moment to “fall forward” before starting back up just so it gets him back into proper form. It works!!

Moving further down the road we had a quick out and back at one of the lighthouses where I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t take a moment to look up at the lighthouse. I’d been so focused on running form, cadence and feeling better that the moment past by. Just before the 50-mile mark was the Bonner Bridge, a 2.5 mile bridge that spans over Oregon Inlet which was formed from a hurricane years ago. The slight incline and decline of the bridge was a much needed reprieve from the flat. I planned on walking up the bridge but the wind tossed me around like a ping-pong ball so instead I let Doug pop back into my head and practiced leaning into the hill, keeping good cadence and being patient. One-two-three-one-two-three.

Just after the bridge was the 50-mile mark and also time to pick up my first pacer Rachel. Woot-woot! Rachel updated me on everything and pep talked me. We were still running a good clip by that point but as the road turned direction the wind became cross wind blowing sand at us. Still though, this section was really pretty with sand dunes and sections where we could see the ocean. I was still sick at this point so Rachel was great about reminding me to drink juice at regular intervals. The other nice part was seeing the Rodanthe house from the movie, Nights in Rodanthe. After that though, the scenery became very redundant and mind numbing for a while which is part of the difficulty of the course. Sometimes I felt like I was going crazy inside because of the never ending feeling of the road. Holding rational thoughts became difficult. Rachel said around the 60-mile mark I asked her how many miles I had left. She said she thought I was kidding not realizing that I wasn’t kidding and how incredibly horrible at math I become once the delirium sets in.

During one of my stomach / bathroom episodes I decided while “taking a seat” how nice it would feel to lay down in the van and put my feet up for a few minutes so I walked over to the crew and told them I wanted five minutes of rest and legs up. Russ and I locked eyes. He had this look of horror that said, “I don’t agree with this, haven’t had a chance to talk to Amanda about it but I’m not going to fight you either” LOL..They cleared some space and for five minutes I enjoyed the little leg massage from Russ - - and then he gave me a warning - - get back out and start running or he would never let me have another break again. Hahaha! Truth is that little break did help my stomach feel better. The terrible cramps went away, at least for a while.

Just past the 62 mile mark (I think that’s when) I was passed and thrown into second place. I wish I knew his name but he was moving at such a good pace too that after a while we lost sight of him. Sunset finally hit changing the scenery once again. When you run South down Highway 12 the Atlantic Ocean is on your left and the Sound is on the right. At sunset, the sky is brilliant orange and the reflections coming off the Sound are impressive. All sorts of wildlife come out. Temperatures started dropping quick so we stopped at one of the water stops to change pacers, put on reflective gear, lights and gloves. Brian would pace me to the end from this point forward. Not sure how we got confused but in the 80-something miles we thought the next stop would be an aid station. Leading up to it, we talked about how wonderful a little chicken broth would be to warm me up and hopefully settle my stomach. I turned on some tunes to keep me going and focused on chicken broth. To my horror, the next stop was a water stop not an aid station. No!! I was so sad, luckily Brian talked me through the disappointment and kept me on pace.

Finally we reach civilization leaving the sand dune monotony behind us. Russ and Rachel cheered us on as we passed by telling us the chicken broth was just up ahead. I had to stop and walk a little bit and ended up having a hallucination that I was about to fall into a canyon. I let out a scream and Brian asked what was wrong. Standing frozen, I told him about the canyon. We shined our lights on the road and by pure luck saw green arrows telling us to turn left! We would have completely missed that turn of the race course had I not hallucinated. Whew! It was the second out and back to another lighthouse. The race director had warned us of this lighthouse telling us it would feel like forever before we reached it. As we made our way Brian decided to take off and get to the aid station before me so he could get everything ready. He made me promise I wouldn’t walk until I got there so I promised and made sure to run. Just as I was turning the corner to hit the aid station the lead guy was leaving. We were close!! I cheered him on knowing he was running an amazing race for his first 100-miler ever!! Yes, you read that right, first 100-miler. At the aid station I *finally* got the chicken broth and it was so good and warm. They pulled up a chair for me to sit and enjoy it. The volunteers there (actually at all of the aid stations) were amazing and on top of things. One guy asked if my feet needed any attention which made me laugh a bit. I sat there telling him about how I don’t get blisters anymore because I wear DryMax Maximum Protection socks and despite feeling all of the sand in my shoes I was certain there were no blisters. He may have thought I was hallucinating because I got a strange stare. So I told him about running Badwater wearing only one pair of DryMax socks and Newtons. He seemed shocked and intrigued. Half a cup of chicken broth and it was time to go. I thought I still had 20-miles left but as we got ready to leave they told us we had half a marathon left. That didn’t seem right to me so I asked Brian what 87.6 from 100 was - - again the math confusion... Brian confirmed we had 13.1 miles left. YES!! We left and kept running, about a mile past that aid station we spotted the leader and passed him. He had slowed substantially and didn’t look very good but we knew his crew was close by so we kept going.

One more water stop came with 10k left. The stop was a gingerbread bakery. Mmm-mmm! They were kind enough to let me use their bathroom and as I walked out managed to spot several pastries in the glass case. What a tease! My sweet husband went back in and picked up a chocolate chip cookie for the finish. That last 10k felt like eternity. The race director drove up beside us and said all we had to do was go over one last bridge, slight turn to the left and straight ahead was the finish line. And then he said he would be giving me the Champion buckle. Holy cow…my face feels hot just writing this and thinking about it. I was in the overall lead for the entire race, and about to break my 19:56 PR by over three hours!! Brian said he was going to leave me with two miles to go so I could run in for the finish but that didn’t work for me. I knew how far I’d come throughout the day and how much the three of them had all worked to get me to this point that I asked if they could drive up to the finish, park and finish with me together. We did. That moment belonged to the four of us. Brandon stood there holding the Champion buckle and the four of us, with a black sky full of bright stars, came through in 16:33.

As always, there are so many people to thank that I’m going to reserve that for a separate post altogether to give them the thanks and recognition they deserve.

For now, it hasn’t sunk in yet. If I weren’t hobbling around with terrible sunburn on my face to remind me, this would all feel like a dream.

Didn't think the day would come but it always does. Months of training and finally the moment we all work toward. We'll see what happens tomorrow. Good weather in the forecast, support crew is ready, and all I have to do is show up and enjoy a day of running. It's an early season 100-miler so I'm looking for a great day to stretch out the legs, do a little reflecting, and keep tabs on some of my friends that are running their first 100. I'm so excited for them!!

If you know me, then you know my love for history and this race albeit new comes with tons of history along the course we're running. The area is the "Graveyard of the Atlantic" because of all the sunken ships. Weather here can get a little crazy, mostly winds and rain. I know from experience. A few years ago I was offshore fishing with my husband [bf back then] and the weather went from gorgeous to stormy within minutes. We were on a 23ft center console and I remember the charter boats radioing out to the rest of us telling us to stay put so they could keep watch in case someone capsized. I went into overdrive asking each person on the boat if they could swim in case we had a MOB. The first time we ever wore lifejackets on that boat too. Luckily we made it without problems but the memory stuck with me.

While I won't have to deal with white caps tomorrow, there is 100 miles to contend with and no matter what 100 miles is a 100 miles.

Our trip began by arriving into Rome and taking the speed train to Florence, a first time visit to the famous renaissance city. Arriving late afternoon we had enough time to walk around the main historic area and find a place for dinner. It didn’t take long for us to find La Cantinetta, a cute little osteria (tavern) off the main strip. 24 hours of traveling and we were parched and hungry. I can’t describe the feeling of our first dining experience in Florence. Unreal. Everything Russ and I love right in front of us: cheeses, hams, salamis, bread, delicious spreads and red wine. We had arrived. Some pics…

Not knowing what to expect while in Florence I had one goal in mind – and surprisingly it wasn’t to see Michelangelo’s David, but rather to visit the great Italian sculptor himself inside Santa Croce basilica. Located in Piazza de Santa Croce, few blocks from the Arno River, Santa Croce notably houses the “who’s who” of Italian greats. Tombs of Michelangelo, Galileo, Machiavelli, family to Napoleon Bonaparte, Alighieri and Vasari are a few of the more than 200 housed within the walls of Santa Croce. “Mildy” gothic compared to the main cathedral in Florence, Santa Croce’s five centuries have allowed for drastic renovations. Sadly many of the frescoes were covered up so as not to distract from the main prayer. Over time some frescoes within certain chapels have been restored. Most interesting are the floors of the church, marble tombs cover the floors. Some are heavily ornate, others with a simple one or two words. Either way at times I did feel weird about walking on tombs. Our time there was lengthy self-guiding for about three hours. The details of each chapel and tomb was impressive and incredibly meaningful picking out the most significant part of their life.

Post Santa Croce, we decided it was time to commence my 35th birthday celebration by ducking into Note Di Vino wine bar. Spotted on our way to Santa Croce it enticed us in holding us prisoner to more wonderful breads, meats and cheeses. This time we tried panettone and their specialty, dense fig and nut pastry. Heavenly! Oh and the wine was great too - - one of the things we love about Italy is the exemption of wine lists. Ok they exist but let’s face it Italy and wine are synonymous therefore why bother rustling around with a wine list when all it takes is ordering the local table wine because ultimately you’re taste buds will be treated to that areas best.
Later that day our new friend at the hotel front desk suggested we try Antica Trattoria “da Tito” (1913) a local restaurant completely off the beaten path. We jumped at it. Anytime we’re privy to the local dining scene it’s worth it for the experience. Walking in to Tito, in Italian I requested a table for two. The gentleman asked if we had a reservation and when I said no, we were gently scolded and escorted to a table. Dinner in Italy doesn’t typically begin until 7pm so it was surprising that the restaurant was filling up so quickly that early. There was another couple sitting beside us and given the map sticking out of her purse we knew they weren’t local but apparently they had enough sense to order the steak. Probably about 2.5lbs of perfectly cooked meat set on communal plate the waiter had to roll a separate mini table over just to house the plate! It was enormous and we couldn’t help but stare at the size. Having already ordered our food Russ and I were starting to regret our selection. The food ended up wonderful, service couldn’t get any better either. Post cappuccino our waiter brought over a chilled bottle of lemoncello (we didn’t order this) with three shot glasses. He served each of us a shot and walked away. Not wanting to be rude (when in Rome…) we slowly and cautiously sipped until the shot glasses were emptied which was about when another waiter came by filling us back up and this time filling a shot for himself. He gave a quick toast and the three of us downed the lemoncello. Yikes..Russ and I couldn’t help but exchange loaded smiles full of laughter over what was occurring. And again – a third waiter came by repeating the process. Sigh…after he walked away we hid the shot glasses and begged for the bill. I suspect that bottle is frequently emptied by the locals there that were boisterously enjoying themselves. I suppose the lemoncello is the culprit for what followed…
Walking out of Tito we turned the wrong direction without realizing it. Arm in arm taking in the Tuscan evening sky we were happy to enjoy the moment of walking down the crooked cobbled streets. I pointed out how safe this beautiful city felt and how much of it we had walked without carrying a sense of apprehension. WHAM. Not but ten minutes after I said that a few feet across the street from us was a group of young guys in a fight. After one loud yelp the group scattered different directions. Not knowing what took place we sped up. Russ glanced over and saw one of the guys lift his shirt to look at a bleeding stab wound. Ugh…so much for that safe feeling though it happens every where. The moment was so alarming that we found ourselves popping into a little local place which ended up being a gem of a spot, Mostodolce. Here, local drink beer, grab a snack and scream during soccer games. We ended the celebratory day with dessert. Happiness is Florence.

Ahhh Venice…how do I begin? Not the first time I’d been to this interesting city on water and I was open to bypassing it on the trip except Russ hadn’t been so it made sense to go and do the romantic gondola ride together. Arriving by train into Venice seems hectic to me. There’s this rush from the station to the vaporetto (boat equivalent of city bus) that feels like I should be wearing track spikes. Get your elbows ready too because you’ll need them to push your way onto the boat. Last time I was in Venice it was a quick little tour and the entire time I couldn’t wait to leave because it felt claustrophobic. This visit was no different. The streets are narrow dark and uneven which is okay except finding your away around even with three maps is still confusing. Luckily our hotel was a stone’s throw from the Rialto and St. Mark’s Square which is really the highlight of the city. Our first evening we strolled around the infamous square enjoying the Christmas décor, architecture and popular tourist photo ops of a photographer placing food on your shoulders and head so that pigeon’s swarm you all the while smiling like nothing is going on for the camera. We were ok to just watching. Making our way over to the gondola’s we opted for the hour long sunset ride. The air was warmer considering how far north we were but by dark temperatures drop quickly. Regardless it was exactly like the movies except I couldn’t stop asking our gondolier questions – How long did it take him to learn? (7 years), how long has he been a gondolier? (18 years), how does one decide to up and steer gondola’s? (you almost have to be born into it) and so on. I can’t for the life of me remember his name (Pierre? Pietre? Darn it.) but he was really nice and informative throughout the hour pointing out various buildings and giving us gossip and history behind them. Coming around the final stretch to park the gondola we were very fortunate to witness an incredible sunset. The moment alone was worth going.

My favorite part about Venice are the centuries-old masks. Elaborately decorated in all sorts of colors, materials, and gilding they’re so fun. Come to find out that some masks were created with a purpose in mind. The Half mask with long beak is considered the Medico Della Peste (The Plague Doctor’s mask…although translated it’s Doctor of the Pestilence). Doctor’s wore this mask to cover their face from the stench of death during the plague. Some masks have clear lenses to protect the doctors eye even. Another mask is the Moretta, a oval shaped mask decorated with black velvet. This mask has a small bit inside near the mouth where the ladies would hold the mask by the bit with their teeth. It’s been said that young woman wore these masks - - and presumably to keep them from talking would be my guess. Ha!

Happy New Year (and Merry Christmas, a little late)! I love the new year, it’s always a wonderful feeling, kind of like switching from elementary to middle school or moving from one city to another. It’s a fresh start. Having taken a small sabbatical from running late last year I’m feeling even more rested and refreshed. My husband and I took a 10-day trip to Italy over Christmas to celebrate our five-year anniversary, my 35th birthday and Christmas. We were in Rome for our honeymoon and decided it was a great time to go back.  Hitting up Florence, Venice, Naples, Pompeii and Rome we got to really enjoy various regions of Italy, meaning, different cuisine, art, architecture, and history. Frankly, if I could get away with it, I’d be a professional student studying history, cultures, languages forever. Ehhh…but that’s not the case. At any rate, one of the biggest compliments I received during the trip was how many Italians thought I too was Italian. (Yay!) I’ve been practicing the Italian language on and off since it’s one of my life goals (to be fluent in 3 or 4 languages). Italian makes three. It’s getting better and in case of total immersion, the language comes quickly. Any moment I kept hoping to open my mouth and hear non-stop Italian flowing out. Didn’t quite happen that way but it’s getting there. Russ kept calling me his little Italian girl….I kept trying to tell him it’s mogile! Hahaha..

Since we were there for ten days that could potentially create a really long blog post so instead I’ll share in multiple postings complete with pictures because if you have never been to Italy you need to add it to the bucket list. And if you have been, perhaps this will entice you to go again. Afterall life is too short to stay in the same zip code too long.

For this post I’ll share one of the best moments, a stop at the Vatican on Christmas Day. That morning we woke up and went for a run along the Tiber River making a quick stop by the Vatican just to see what was going on and deciding we would walk back before dinner to take pictures with the evening sky. We originally wanted to go to midnight mass Christmas Eve which is when the Pope gives mass but the weather wasn’t cooperating and we weren’t sure if we would even get in to see him. In talking with another traveler who actually made it, he said the last part of the mass the Pope gave a prayer in 10 or 15 different languages! WOW! Sigh…kicking myself for making excuses. Darn it. The other special part is the unveiling of the life size nativity scene. It’s breathtaking. Italy is known for having life size nativity (presepe) scenes all over each city and it’s true. We saw some made of straw, chocolate, cheese, terracotta, plastic, and much more. Each is unique but all of them are very touching and memorable. The one at the Vatican draws huge crowds of people all over the world and being there definitely had a feeling of unity and peace. Hope you had a wonderful Christmas!

Happy Monday! Hope you had a terrific weekend. I certainly did. It flew by but somehow I managed to get my lists of lists complete and then some. The house is still in perfect order, yard and gardens are looking pretty spectacular (we have four different kinds of lettuce growing to feed an army!) and I’m feeling incredibly well rested. On that note, I’ve started running. Baby steps people – baby steps! Not a lot of running, some running and mostly with my sweet angel Lance. He’s gained weight over the summer and I feel partly to blame. (Too many Frosty Paw bribes for those sad little “I wanna run” eyes. Bad Mommy.) We usually take him swimming since it’s too hot for him to run but with cooler temps here he’s ready to pick up a few miles. What I love most about running with him is the amount of enthusiasm he exudes. Tail wags abundant and smiling the entire route. An occasional slop into mud puddles and he’s in heaven. He loves it and I love watching him. These simple short moments with him have brought me back to appreciating why I run in the first place – on a trail with lots of leaves and muddy puddles, it’s fun.

On a different note, we’re less than a month away from 2012 and that means New Year’s Resolutions. Remember those? I do. But I’m don’t write out the stereotypical NYR’s (i.e., I will quit XYZ). Instead I use it to formulate what things I want to accomplish either 2012 or beyond - - because some goals take a little longer than a year to complete but also require putting action in place to get the ball rolling. Now I’m not going to sit here and bore you with my complete list of NYR’s, because let’s face it my goals may not be your goals and vice versa. However, I will share this nifty smartphone app that I recently fell in love with called The Habit Factor. What I like about the app is that you enter in your goals and also think about what habits you need to form to reach said goals. Each habit created gets it’s own tracking settings so you can pick what how often this should occur weekly. It’s accountability in your face. There’s also a book along with it that has exercises and aims to guide you through understanding that habits are not necessarily negative, and in the case of using this app the idea is to create positive habits versus focusing on the negative. Check it out and see how it goes. You don’t have to wait until 1/1/12 to begin. Start now with super baby steps testing out the idea, defining what you want and tweaking it to work with your life. You never know where you might end up!

Cheers!

I’m still here and breathing. And quite thankful for that I might add. Last month was a complete roller coaster, bringing angst, excitement, exhaustion, and most importantly an epiphany. October housed the first ultra race I directed – The Gibbet, Javelina Jundred and Halloween. As I blogged earlier, The Gibbet Races went perfect. I suppose Halloween could’ve been right up there in success except for the mere FIVE costumed kiddies that knocked on our door. Are you kidding? What’s up with that? Times have certainly changed from my younger years of trick-o-treating up and down every street possible. Oh well. The third major event last month, Javelina Jundred, was a weekend of catastrophic proportions. Ok, not really. More of an epiphany of where I’ve been, and where I’m going.

You see after coming off the high of Badwater, I spent the better half of a month plus trying to get my hip back in order and recovering. Now you have to love social media because at times, as in the case of blogging, people will keep you accountable. Trust me, they do. There’s also peer pressure that comes with social media and well, unfortunately I fell right into it without notice. I grasped on tight to the the exhilerating tweets from other ultrarunners as they signed up for races, coaxing me into doing same and then it happened. Before I knew it, I’d signed up for another round of trail running and threw my name into Javelina Jundred hat. Sigh…what was I thinking? I wasn’t. Here I’d spent this past winter prepping for RR100, spring and summer for Badwater and now fall for JJ100. As the date got closer so did the mounting pressure to run another 100. The problem was leading up to the race my level of excitement for the next race was a meager shimmer if that. Usually there are fireworks exploding. None this time. Each day I did the required runs necessary until it happened – I skipped a workout, and then skipped the next day, and again the next and before I knew it, I’d skipped a week of training. Without any guilt.

I managed to get myself on a plane and make it to Arizona in one piece. Enroute, small talk with fellow passengers brought me to the usual topic of “why am I traveling to Arizona.” Ugh…the agony of explaining I’m suppose to be running 100 miles. For the first time ever I probably had the same look of horror that matched their faces.

Fast forward to race day. Waking up wasn’t a chore this time. I was up before the alarm. Getting dressed – no confusion there either. I threw on a basic outfit without giving anymore thought about chaffing, sunblock, etc. At the start, I sat. Two minutes to gun time my crew/pacer Ben and I mosied over to the start where I turned on my headlight and placed a finger on the start button of my Garmin. At the sound of the start, we were off into the dark cold desert. The first lap went well running is much faster then the previous year. It was nice to chit chat with friends Tony Portera, and Chris Roman. I’d paced Tony back in April at Umstead and we all did Badwater so we had lots of talk about. Eventually, they went off ahead and we saw each other near the headquarter area ending the first lap. Heading back out for the second lap, I maintained my pace. Like a robot when my alarm sounded I took in nutrition. By the first aid station of the second lap, I had Brenda Corona come up on me. This incredible 50-year old ultrarunning machine and I duked it out on the course last year but we never had an opportunity to meet so I was very excited when I saw her coming in to the aid station. We exchanged hellos and headed forward together on the trails. We talked about last years race and laughed about how it all went down and talked about everything leading up to where we were that weekend. It’s the first time I’d actually run with someone that long in the middle of a 100-miler and felt so carefree. Brenda is a class act, incredibly friendly and warm-hearted. We ended up running the rest of lap two together and part of lap three. Going into lap three I could feel it happening - - the burn out was getting louder in my head. I told Brenda that I would stay with her until it was time to cut her loose so she could go on and race, which was about the halfway point. She didn’t want to separate but I urged her to go on telling her that I needed time to think about what was happening. So for the remainder of lap three I ran, I walked, I cried, I laughed. As each aid station appeared I even sat down chugging massive quantities of Coke. Something I NEVER do. It was a liberating moment. The last four miles I crossed paths with some of my friends who were on their fourth lap. Hugs and high fives I said goodbye to them knowing I’d be calling it a day. Perhaps the hardest part of lap three was trying to figure out how to break the news to everyone back at headquarters.

Coming back into headquarters Ben and friends had a look of relief that I finally showed up. They were worried something bad happened. Giving them the news I walked over to the timing station and turned in my number. That small shimmer excitement now extinguished. I was burned out. It’s been the toughest moment in my running life to admit but it happened and I didn’t even see it coming. I felt bad for my pacer who didn’t get to run at all after coming all the way from LA. And felt bad for the money I’d lost to get there. But what I didn’t feel bad for was the DNF. Actually I felt like I was finally being honest with myself versus trying to play along with what I felt other people wanted from me. The weight of the world lifted off my shoulders and I was free. Happy and relaxed.

So here I am three weeks later without any running since JJ100. What have I been up to? All things non-running! Finally I’ve had a chance to catch up on everything that’s been incredibly neglected due to running. The house is pristine, closets have been gutted and organized, bathrooms scrubbed, yard is perfectly manicured, raked and replanted, Christmas decorations are out and in place. I’ve enjoyed a wonderful Thankgiving with my husband and sweet doggie sans having to fit in a run. We went to the movies together and didn’t worry about getting to sleep early to run the next day. We’ve entertained friends, enjoying rich heavy foods and light bubbly cocktails without worrying about having to run. In essence, I’ve been living and enjoying all other aspects of my life - without structure or schedules - for the first time in a very long time. Talk about Thanksgiving!

Javelina was a terrific lesson for me. I must always listen to my heart – and not social media. Tending to all aspects of life, not just my beloved hobby. Most importantly, rest, reflection, and regrouping  is critical for growth as a person, as a runner and in life.

I’ve given myself permission to take a break for a few weeks. Soon enough it will be time to look at 2012. With a fresh clear mind and fully rested body, I’ll be ready.

Good grief time flies. It’s been two weeks since the Inaugural Gibbet Races and I’m at a loss for words. The race went so well and even better was seeing all of the runners out there with huge smiles on their faces. The biggest compliment was how friendly and helpful the volunteers were the entire 12-hour day. No surprise though, all of the volunteers showed up on time, and were equally excited to help. I can’t thank them enough!! The weather was also a complete blessing; beautiful sunshine, clear skies and a nice breeze through the park gave everyone ultimate running conditions.

The Gibbet is the only 50-mile race within Hampton Roads (covering Virginia Beach, Newport News, Norfolk, Chesapeake, Hampton, Portsmouth and Suffolk cities) and First Landing State Park is probably the most heavily visited state park in Virginia. Suffice it to say there were still plenty of visitors not related to the race that day and it was funny to see the shocked look on their faces as they were told the distance of the race! Hopefully this may have stirred interest in some of them and they’ll join us next year.

On a separate note, last week I attended the Newton Natural Running Form Coaching Clinic. WOW! The clinic was hosted by our local running store, Running Etc. and Doug Bertram from Newton Running gave the presentation. I’m so glad I participated. Late last year I’d bought my first pair of Newton shoes. I’d heard good reviews but wasn’t certain about making the change since Saucony and New Balance had always been my go-to brands. A couple of runs and I was hooked. Now on my fourth pair it seemed fitting to attend the clinic to really learn the science behind the shoe and more importantly learn how to improve my running form. At five feet zero inches, I’m not exactly “leggy” so I always wondered if that made a difference. Turns out it doesn’t. Doug taught us a series of drills explaining the methodology behind each. He took video of us from the front and side views and we got to watch our form up close frame by frame. It was agony waiting patiently for my turn to come up. Surprisingly, I had good form with the exception of my legs reaching out too far. Learning about elastic recoil, proprioception, impact and more definitely made me realize that similar to swimming, efficient and healthy running is form driven. I highly recommend attending one of the symposiums. If there isn’t one in your area contact your local running store and ask them to host one.

It’s the last week of October and boy am I feeling thankful it’s almost over. For many, the holidays are a time of overindulgence, i.e., Thanksgiving/Christmas weight gain but for me the month of sin comes in October. Smarties candies beckon my name every year and in a zombie like fashion I can’t resist temptation! Oh they’re so sweet, soft on the tongue until crunching down when they turn to pure sugar. It’s almost cruel that they’re legal. Worse yet is that in my young trick-or-treating years I may have been permanently scared by neighbors who gave out cheesy candy. As a result, little ghosts and goblins ringing our doorbell are treated to full size M&M’s, Skittles, Milky Ways and the like - - minus Smarties because I ate all of them. Doesn’t sound so bad except that we don’t have that many kids in the hood so Russ and I will be stuck with you-know-what…CANDY. Sigh…and so the vicious cycle continues…Hope you have a wonderful Halloween filled with lots of (good) candy!

Well it’s the beginning of fall weather here in Virginia Beach and what can I say, I LOVE IT!! Ok-ok…sort of….I love it because fall weather equates to good things like my wedding anniversary, Halloween and brilliantly colored leaves gently swaying back and forth. Maybe it’s that growing up in Texas I really only experienced two seasons – hot and hotter – so having four seasons and watching the changing of leaves is still new and always a treat. Speaking of treat, fall season also means acorn squash right out of the oven with melted butter and brown sugar sprinkled on top. Yumyumyumyum!

The downside of fall is of course lower temperatures. I will miss the heat baking down on me as I run. There’s nothing better than coming back from a long run drenched in sweat. Yeah!

Fall season just got even more exciting for me though. I’m directing my first race October 8th called The Gibbet! It’s a 50-mile and 25-mile all trail race. Ever since getting into ultrarunning I always thought it would be fun to put on a race in Hampton Roads that would challenge runners. There’s only one other ultra (50k) for the area so to have a 50-mile race here is all too exciting. Many of the runners are new to the 50-mile distance and I can’t even begin to share the excitement about being part of their running journey. I remember my first 50-mile race and how scared I was. The race director was incredibly kind and helpful with my ten million e-mail questions.

For the most part ultrarunning is an incredibly selfish sport in that we consume hours upon hours of time away from our family and friends but on top of that, we con same family and friends into taking care of us at races lasting incredibly long hours. In return, I feel a sense of obligation to pay it back somehow. Whether it means crewing and pacing for others or directing races and working long hours to give other runners that same experience.

Oh! Why Gibbet? The beach area in years past was known for heavy pirating. Although North Carolina is better known for the pirate Blackbeard, he too made his way up to our Virginia Beach shores. Near the park where the race is being held, pirates were often captured and the Commonwealth of Virginia would order pirates to be executed by gibbet. Leaving their hanging bodies to rot, the idea was that other pirates passing by would think twice about causing harm. So in a nod to local history and a play on Halloween, The Gibbet was born. And to the runners of the race: Finish or Gibbet!