Category Archives: Running

Bellingham Bay Half-Marathon Race Recap

Lots of things to say about yesterday’s race. For a quick minute in there, I was disappointed that I was (spoiler) only 20 seconds off my PR. I was also disappointed for an instant that my watch (along with those of several around me) read a long course and not a true 13.1. However, after those thoughts subsided and I thought back on the race that I’d run, I landed in the spot I am today: both very pleased and very encouraged.

I went into this race with some trepidation about the conditions (blustery and rainy) but also with a lot of gusto to run a good race. Relatively speaking, I hadn’t raced in a while, and I was ready to see what my legs could do. I rested all day Saturday (a new approach for me), hydrated well, slept well, and treated the run like a real race.

Low and behold, race morning comes, and the drive up to Bellingham was…ominous. It was pouring, windy, and the perfect conditions for sleeping in and hot coffee…not running 13.1 miles in spandex and a tank top. But I kept my spirits high, and after an easy bib pick-up and some dynamic stretching, I forgot about the weather and tried to get in the zone. Spotting some fellow Oiselle teammates helped kindle my excitement, and I felt proud to be wearing the same singlet as such fast women.

Before I knew it, the countdown was on, and boom…we were running a half marathon. Tried and true to the start of any race, I a) felt incredible and b) knew I was going too fast. A look down at my watch about a half mile in would verify that my 7:00 “easy” pace was certainly not the way to start off a distance race, so I tried to tug back. Ugh, why is this always so hard? Every time I swear to myself I’ll follow the rules and hold back at the start, and every time I cross a start line I abandon all those good intentions. But, I forgave myself, let a faster mile 1 clock in, and prepared to reel in the reigns.

I felt so good during these first few miles. Like, better than I’ve felt running in a long long time. Isn’t that what we hope to feel during races? Anyway, I alternated between sharing paces with others, pulling back when they surged, and going ahead when they fell behind. Generally, it just felt great to be racing, and I let that mindset and momentum carry me through the early miles:

Mile 1: 7:14

Mile 2: 7:22

Mile 3: 7:23

In terms of pacing for this race, my goal was to stick to 7:30s for the first half and open it up if I could during the second half. So, once I reentered the 7:20s, I considered it okay and just went with it. I also knew that there was an incline coming up in mile 4 which would get things back in line.

That incline came and I already knew that my legs were in for a hard race, should I keep this pace up. My breathing sped up and my HR surged a little, reminding me that I was—in fact—racing. But, per usual after a hill reclines to a flat grade, my legs started turning over again and invited the steady downhill that would come in the next few miles.

Mile 4: 7:47

I knew that miles 5-7 were on a downhill, and I’d planned ahead of time to use those miles to my advantage. What I hadn’t considered, though, was that these miles would also change the direction of the course directly into the forecasted wind. These miles were also pretty exposed, which made the wind even more difficult to avoid, but nonetheless…I tried to gun it a little.

Mile 5: 7:18

Mile 6: 7:06

Mile 7: 7:01

There was a bit in there where my watch read 6:xx, which both horrified and exhilarated me. I’d never seen a pace in the 6s during a half marathon, and it was a definite confidence booster to see that pop up.

The course flattened out after this, and the headwind seemed to take a turn directly into our faces. I tore open my gel around this point too and held it for the next few miles, taking drags from it whenever I felt steady. We reentered downtown Bellingham, and there were a few twisty inclines that definitely slowed me down and reminded me of the miles I’d already logged. My energy started waning a little around miles 9-10, and looking back on the elevation profile of the course, it’s obvious that those mini hills took their toll.

Mile 8: 7:34

Mile 9: 7:45

Mile 10: 7:40

We were on a dirt path along the bay at this point, which was warmly welcomed after all the pavement pounding. Although my watch had been a little off the whole race, it was really off once I got to mile 10, which was a little discouraging. My miles were beeping at least 2/10 of a mile before the mile markers, and a fellow racer confirmed that her Garmin was at the same distance as mine. Admittedly, I fumed about this for a bit, considering I thought a PR was within reach should the course be 13.1, but I put that thought out of my mind and tried to just run the race I was running and enjoy it as much as I could.

Once I got to mile 10.5 or so, I resolved to kick it up in the last 5k, and that mind shift seemed to give me a bit of a second wind as well. I was hurting, but not done yet, and I wanted to finish strong. There was a STEEP boat ramp during mile 11 that felt like I was walking, which took a lot of self-talk to get up and over especially with another hilly ~1.5 miles to go afterward.

Mile 11: 7:17

Mile 12: 7:58

Alas, up I went, and we turned into the homestretch. Something I really like about this race is that it’s an essentially straight shot to this finish, and it seemed like everyone around me was pulling out everything they had to fire their final canons. I’d been leap-frogging with a few men the whole race, and all of us were straightening up and putting on our best race faces during this final stretch. Lots of fun.

However, things were hurting. This last mile was consistently up and down hill, and I was definitely feeling all the changing elevation, despite how minimal it actually was. When my watch beeped “13” I was nowhere near the mile marker, so I made a mental note to check “my” half marathon time in another .1 miles.

Mile 13: 7:12

Eventually, the finish line came into view, and I dug out my final dregs of speed as much as I could—I’ll be damned if that clock changes to 1:39!

Final .32 miles: 6:37

Official finish time: 1:38:47, 16th woman overall

After a momentary feeling of being punched in the gut, I pulled it together, got my medal and space blanket and regaled on what just happened: Was that the fastest I’ve ever run before?

Technically, no. My official half-marathon PR is 22 seconds faster than that. But, in reality…it actually might be.

I am certainly not someone to play the, “But my watch said xx:xx!” card. I believe we all run the same course, the same race, no matter what, and the numbers we clock individually are secondary. But, .2 miles off is significant enough that I’m inclined to look at my pace according to the distance I logged rather than a 13.1 distance. Furthermore, in the case that I ran 13.32 miles in 1:38:47, I ran a 7:24 pace, which is easily faster than I’ve ever run a half marathon before. Take it or leave it, I realize this is a controversial topic, but I’m having a hard time ignoring that figure.

Despite the could-haves and maybes of the off-distance, I certainly had miles during this race that were both unexpected and mini personal-record breaking. The fact that 6.32 miles were under 7:20s is incredibly encouraging, and it brightens my hopes for a 1:35:xx in the (hopefully) not-so-distant future.

I also felt like I was able to handle discomfort during this race much better than I’ve been able to before. One of my goals going into it was to keep my head on and not let the pain shadow my confidence. I tried to keep this in the front of my mind during those tougher miles, and I’m happy that I feel like I was able to stay comfortable being uncomfortable. There were some bleak minutes, certainly, but it felt like my resolve to push through was able to suppress those dark voices—which is something I’ve definitely struggled with in the past.

So, all in all, it was a great race. I’m happy that the rain held off (mostly), and despite the comprised conditions, I ran the best race I could. I have high hopes for what’s to come, and a little more gusto in my motivation to start training a little harder. The half-marathon is a fun and tough distance, and I’m excited to see what the next two this year have in store.

And a huge congrats to the other ladies who ran this race! In case I needed a spoonful of humble stew, the other 4 gals I ran with finish in 3, 4, 5, and 7th. Yes, really. Speedy ladies! Super impressive.

Happy Monday all!

Making a Plan, Changing the Plan

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Bad blogger here, poking out from my cocoon of silence…

Hey peeps! Guess what? It’s race week! A race I’ve been anticipating for a while…meaning I’ve already had some nerves and goals running through my head.

As I said last week, I rearranged my sky-high hopes for this race and settled on a “we’ll see” approach. Which is what I was/am still planning on. Essentially, my mission has become:

Race the damn race. Don’t just cruise—get a little uncomfortable. Stay in control, run smart, but make it hurt if I can.

Simplistic. Anddd there might be a few pace numbers thrown in there too. But I won’t bore you with those.

I did determine some good ole fashioned A, B, and C goals. So without further ado…

A) PR: I think this is possible if I have a really good day. Ideal conditions, happy legs, etc. A sub-7:30 pace average (what I’d need for a PR) shockingly isn’t as scary as it used to be, which in and of itself is encouraging. Even so, it would take some ~~luck~~ smart racing.

B) Sub-1:40: I became a member of this club on only one occasion, and I feel like it would be nice to affirm my status a little more considering I tend to feel like a poser with my “fluke” 1:38 PR sometimes. No, I don’t feel like I need to prove anything to anyone…except for maybe myself. It would just be nice to feel those race paces again.

C) Keep my head on. This is better than another “sub xx:xx” goal, right? Here’s the deal: I feel like I’m a good racer, but I don’t necessarily feel like I’ve mastered overcoming the mental hurdles that come with tough conditions. Sure, I can press onward, but I feel like I have a tendency to completely count myself out as soon as I feel fatigued. This is especially true in workouts. I’d really like to use this race as an opportunity to keep my game face on straight…or something like that. Having other people to chase after tends to help with this, so I’m excited to execute some playful competition in the name of building confidence.

So, all that’s well and good. But! Of course….but.

Now, I’m not one to whine and complain about race-day conditions. For the most part, I accept them as they are since I know there’s nothing I can do about them. We’ll all have to run in the same weather, right? Right.

But when a race I’ve been looking forward to and anticipating a strong performance at looks like this, my evil eye tends to come out:

Rain doesn’t really phase me. I’m used to the rain, I’ve raced in the rain, whatever with the rain. But rain + wind? Gross. Talk about my least ideal running/living conditions. And 20 mph isn’t a joke…that will make a difference.

So, I suppose for right now I’m trying to accept that some adjustments may need to happen. Goal adjustments, pace adjustments, etc. All in the name of Mother Nature…that saucy little minx. Am I completely discounting those goals above? Absolutely not. Do I think this adds another important variable to consider? Certainly. We’ll see, friends. Expect a very soggy finish line photo, with a side of yummy thigh chafing.

But, no matter the circumstances, I’m excited to run my 9th ( <—lucky number alert!) half-marathon this Sunday. The same half-marathon, in fact, that I ran as my first half 3 years ago. Crazy! This will also be my first official race as a Oiselle team member, clad in the singlet and everything. Let’s hope those new wings know how to sail in the wind!

Who’s racing this weekend? Does weather affect your race-day hype?

Playing Catch-Up: Running, pets, and Boston

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Hello! Long time no talk. How is everyone?

It’s so exciting that fall racing season is in full swing—it’s been fun to hear about everyone’s super long runs, tapering, and race results! I’ll admit I’m a tad jealous that I’m not doing a fall marathon (ahem, Chicago), however it’s made scheduling more relaxed and gets me even more excited for whatever’s next.

For now I thought I’d just give some updates—on running and otherwise.

Lately, I’ve been running between 40-50 miles a week, and recently it’s been closer to 50. It’s been fun, and feels surprisingly manageable. A year ago this would have been really high mileage for me, but it’s starting to feel a little more “normal” I guess you could say. I feel like I’m developing a really good base, and by alternating between speed, long runs, cut back weeks, and easy runs, I’m hoping that my base will be really strong by the time I gear up for my next marathon.

This is what a typical week has looked like lately:

M: rest, always

T: ~10 miles, no watch

W: ~8 miles, some kind of speed work, mostly tempos, and Maximum Sculpt class

T: ~8 miles easy

F: 6 miles slow and Maximum Sculpt class

S: 14-18 mile long run. I did do one random 20 miler last weekend, but otherwise I’m normally around 16

S: cross-training, normally swimming

My Wednesdays are Fridays almost always look the same, but otherwise things float around a lot. I’m starting to switch my long run days to Sunday for the fall/winter because the only thing better than finishing a long run is finishing a long run and laying on the couch watching football for the rest of the day.

Football season=Sunday long runs

So, despite the “not training” higher mileage, I do have some method to my madness—in the form of fall half marathons where allegedly, I’ll be testing my fitness.

Full disclosure/honesty: I’m 99% sure I’m not ready to run The Big Goal Time at the Bellingham Bay Half, which is two weeks from now. I could ramble away on a variety of excuses, but instead I’ll just take ownership and admit that I haven’t put in the amount of work necessary. Yes, I’ve been running and I’ve been diligent about workouts and miles, but I never feel like I jacked things up to the level I need to be at. It might have been fear, laziness, burnout, etc—but whatever the reason, the result is that I’m not feeling prepared to attempt a 1:35 half marathon in two weeks.

However, I do feel like the work I have done could be worth something, and I think I’ll use Bellingham as a fitness test and benchmark race as opposed to an A race. There is the chance of a PR (my current is 1:38:25), although I won’t be all that disappointed if I don’t break that either.

Do I want to be in shape to gut out 7:15 miles at Bellingham? Absolutely. Do I feel guilty for not being there yet? Not really. And here’s why:

I spent the summer having an incredible time running spur-of-the-moment races, spending hours in a van and on the road in two ultra relays, and generally living a life that didn’t revolve around A-race training. And it was fantastic! I don’t regret it for a minute. It was so good for my hyper-competitive self to take a break from the grind and live life a little less strictly. However, my summer didn’t come without some hard work—and in fact it left me more exhausted than I anticipated.

So, I suppose what I’m trying to say is that while I don’t feel ready for a 1:35 just yet, I do feel like with a little more time I’ll get there. I have a few more half-marathon plans up my sleeve this fall, and in no way have I discounted those as opportunities for fast races. I’m also secretly hoping that as the temperatures drop, all my hot weather training will have miraculously made me faster without changing anything else. 🙂 Point blank, my goal to get faster and to be a better runner hasn’t changed one bit, it’s just taking a little more time in the short-term than I originally hoped for.

In other news…

In case you haven’t seen on my social media posting spree:

We got a kitten!!!

His name is Jasper, he’s 11 weeks and 5 days old, and he’s perfect.

He’s completely stolen our hearts, and every day I love him even more. I’m also a paranoid kitten owner, and I’m chronically afraid that something’s going to choke him, electrocute him, or that he’s ill with some rare kitty cancer. This definitely bodes well for how I’ll be with a baby.

Nevertheless, he’s a happy, healthy, curious little kitty and makes my day brighter.

He is also very helpful at drawer organization.

And lastly…

Stay tuned folks! Boston registration is still open for all us “barely there” qualifiers, and this morning at exactly 7:08 AM, my registration was sent in. I’m guessing we won’t hear until the end of the week, but I do know that if space does fill up…every second counts. Let’s hope that my -2:54 minutes helps me!

I do have my hopes up, admittedly, but even if I don’t get in, it felt so incredible to even have the chance to register. Two years after I ran my first marathon, I never imagined I could be on the Boston Athletic Association website hitting “submit” to my very own application. It was awesome, and I can only imagine what it will be like to actually run the race, whenever that may be.

That’s all for now! I think it’s safe to assume most people are as excited as I am about the upcoming crunchy leaves and cooler weather. And as much as I scoff at all the “scarves!” and “boots!” and “OMG PSL!!!” yammer, I have to admit that fall is seriously my jam, and I plan on soaking it up to the fullest.

Happy Monday!

A Year Without Injuries

So about that half-marathon goal…

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Remember that big, scary goal I wrote about a while back? The one I was over-the-moon ecstatic and horrified to starting working toward?

Right. Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t done a lot of talking about how the steps toward that goal are going. This is partially because I haven’t had any time. Between working, running, relaying, traveling, and the life in between, my blog-updating time is limited and I’ve had to focus on the current happenings rather than the far-out goals.

So here’s an update on the 1:35:xx half-marathon goal I’m pining for before the end of this year:

I’m not feeling great about it.

It’s not that I don’t want it, and it’s not that I don’t think there’s potential in it. But the commitment and enthusiasm I felt when I initially began this scary endeavor hasn’t really been there recently, and frankly…I’m not surprised.

I don’t think I gave the magnitude of two ultra relays in the same month the credit I should have from the onset. They both required a lot of slow and long miles to prepare for, a week of taper beforehand, and a week of recovery afterward. I suppose I felt like the relays would simply “fit into” my training for my goal half. Instead, it became the other way around; I was trying to fit half-marathon training into preparation and participation in two ultra relays. And let me just tell you…the training regimens for each don’t necessarily fit together.

It’s the same reason why it’s really hard to focus a lot of attention on speed work during the peak weeks of marathon training. You can try and bust out a few tempo miles, but ultimately it’s the mileage count that reigns supreme, and we must abide by the desires of our already fatigued legs.

With that said, after a weekend of running over 35 miles in 24 hours, my legs were not going to be okay with 800 repeats, or goal paces, or anything other than a humble jog for that matter. And that happened to me twice.

Ultimately, I was more concerned with recovering adequately from the relays than checking off every half-marathon specific work out. And IMHO, this was definitely the right way to go. Sure, long term I probably care more about increasing my speed and my half-marathon PR than I do about relays. However, I definitely care more about running injury free above anything else—so it was in the end a matter of maintaining health.

The other part of this whole training-not-training deal (the part I’m more embarrassed to admit) is that the paces are ridiculously intimidating. It feels like I’ve just become mostly-comfortable with the idea of a 7:30 half-marathon pace (my old PR), and all of a sudden I’m supposed to be working on a 7:15. Those numbers, “7-1-5,” have kind of been haunting me, and it’s become obvious that I need to not only up my mental game, but I need to practice this pace to the point where it’s a little less daunting.

With that said, I have been practicing! What’s funny is that I “wrote” this post (in my head, on an easy run) on Monday , and then yesterdays run kind of changed my perspective on the whole “lack of confidence” theme. Which subsequently changed the ending of this post…as you’ll see below.

For me, tempo workouts at goal pace are my favorite way to gain some confidence about a goal race. Before Eugene, I practiced the feel of 8:00 miles so much that I guarantee I could have done them without a watch. So for Bellingham (the next half-marathon on the horizon), I’ve been playing with 7:15. Not a lot, but just enough to where my lungs and legs can start to know how it feels.

On Wednesday, however, it was time to step it up: I set out for 5 tempo miles, sandwiched between a warm-up and a cool down. The goal of those miles was to simulate a race plan (start slower, finish faster) and mimic the pace I would ideally hold for a 1:35:xx finish. I was nervous, I was unsure, but it had to be done:

Here are the results:

8:20 (w/o)

7:19

7:13

7:07

8:20 (c/d)

I’m not calling it a game changer, but that one workout gave my self-doubt-filled brain a jolt of inspiration. Maybe, it turns out, this goal isn’t too far-fetched. It might take a little more time and more races than just Bellingham (9/29), but I’m starting to feel a little more like that giddy, speed-hungry girl from a few months ago.

And yes, it really only took one workout. I can’t explain it, but yesterday—those paces that have felt way too fast and way beyond my capabilities felt a little more like mine. Instead of thinking those paces belonged to more experienced, faster runners that weren’t me—I felt like maybe I’m a little more entitled to them than I previously thought.

The goal now is going to be to really embrace that “ownership,” and I know I might need to be patient. From the onset, I had it in my head that Bellingham was going to the *the* race to make that 1:35:xx happen. There’s still a chance, but instead of putting all my eggs in that basket, I’m going to work more toward really getting stronger and more comfortable at those paces than just gutting them out for one race. The ultimate goal is to improve my speed overall, that’s what my goal was for this fall, and while a half-marathon PR is a good tangible step during that process, it’s not the end-all finish line.

The reason I’m not running a fall marathon this year is two-fold: one, I’ve run a marathon during the past four racing seasons, and I want to stave off burnout while resting my legs for a (potential) Boston Marathon run next spring. The second part, however, is to focus less on mileage and focus more on speed. So far, that hasn’t necessarily been the case considering the distance I had to put in for the ultra relays. And that’s fine! I had such a fun time at those relays, and I feel so fortunate I was able to participate in them.

However, it’s time to get back to work. Kind of like school starting again, it’s time to get a little more regimented if I want to get serious about improving my speed. It was hard to say no to a fall marathon this year, even though I knew it would ultimately keep me healthier and keep me moving toward my goal of getting faster.

That said, I don’t want to waste this opportunity. I’m a big believer that our comfort zones are meant to be broken, and our limits are supposed to be tested, and it’s time to practice what I preach.

Fall is here folks, and it’s time for this birdie to put on some big girl wings.

Spokane to Sandpoint Ultra Relay Race Recap

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This summer has been a seemingly endless stream of events, namely in the form of sweating and running. And I’ve loved it! It’s been one of the best summers of my life, and despite the excessive traveling, late nights, early mornings, and chronically fatigued legs, it’s all been worth it. I feel like I broke out of my comfort zone a lot over the past three months, and along the way I learned a lot about myself as an endurance athlete.

The Spokane to Sandpoint Relay, furthermore, was sort of a grand finale to all the summer hoopla. Both in the sense that it was an intense, multi-day endurance event— but also in the sense that it was kind of my last “big thing” for a while. And let me tell you…I think my body understood the whole “this is the end” ethos of this race.

But let’s get to the running. This was a 200+ mile relay, which started at the top of Mount Spokane and ended on a beach in Sandpoint, ID. Our “Girls Just Wanna Run” ultra team of six each had 4 legs to take on, and I was lucky number runner 6.

It feels incomplete to write about my experience without detailing the runs of my teammates. I was so impressed with every single one of them throughout this entire race, and it’s truly not adequate to recap a relay without their stories, too. So while it’s not possible, I have to acknowledge that the magic of this race for me was in each and every member of the team—including our driver.

So to Tasha, Jordanne, Amy, Rose, Kaitlyn and Luke…you all are heroes. Thanks for letting me run with you!

Buckle up, kids, this is a long one.

…

5:30 PM: Leg #1, 13.9 miles

I’d waited the entire day, since our 7 am start time, to run. I was equal parts really antsy and really nervous. The primary theme of the day was just how hot it was, and after seeing each of my teammates affected by the 90 degree weather, I got more and more wary of what my ~14 miler would hold.

Proof of heat: Kaitlyn using our go-to cool off method.

Kaitlyn handed over our bracelet to me, and off I went— happy to be moving and excited to be knocking out the longest of my four legs.

See? So happy!

Well, that feeling lasted approximately 3 miles, and that’s when the heat started to affect my stomach. I’m not sure if it was the end-of-the-day run, the food I’d had beforehand, or simply the temperature, but for whatever reason— I quickly went from happily running to extreme digestive discomfort (which we’ll just call “feelings,” because I’m fairly certain you all understand what I’m implying here).

I’ve experienced this running before, and normally it just passes, but whenever those “feelings” felt like they were going away, I’d immediately get another round. The frustrating thing was that my legs felt great. All of my body wanted to run, expect for my lower stomach. I tried my best to focus on the beautiful scenery (which WAS beautiful!) and I knew that when I’d run through the first exchange, my team would have fuel and supplements that could help.

Around 7 miles in, I made it to the exchange and took salt and magnesium pills which I prayed would help alleviate my issues. It was great to see the team also and I was amazed at their support– it felt like my own personal fuel crew!

Pill swallowing mid-run: true talent. Looking this beautiful: even truer talent.

Unfortunately, the two pills didn’t do much, and in fact the “feelings” kept getting worse. I did all I could to not think about needing a bathroom, but simultaneously I started to plot exactly what I would do should the situation get worse. The heat was also starting to get to me at this point, and I could feel the energy quickly being zapped from my body.

Once I got to the next exchange area (I was running through twice), I debated using the port-a-potty or not. However, from experience I knew that one quick stop wasn’t going to make a difference in how things were feeling. I decided against it, told a few of my teammates how I was feeling, and just wanted to get the last 4 miles over with.

"Rose, I'm gonna poop my pants." "Fine, but make sure you're practicing safety first with this vest and headlamp."

“Rose, I’m gonna poop my pants.”
“Okay, but make sure you’re practicing safety first with this vest and headlamp!”

Just after leaving the transition, I got to cross over the Washington/Idaho border, which was definitely a highlight. I was trying as hard as I could to distract myself from the heat and the discomfort, but things were seemingly getting worse. The miles that felt strong and quick before were starting to crawl by, and eventually when I saw a public bathroom on the side of the path, there wasn’t really another option.

I finished the last few miles a little more comfortably (and managed to pass a few more people), but as I got to the end, those “feelings” reached an all time peak of pain.

Al-most-done…

I was thrilled to hand off and be done running, but more thrilled to stop the stomach jostling. It was discouraging, to say the least. I still had 3 legs and over 20 miles in front of me, and things weren’t going to go well if they were anything like the first leg.

Peace out, first leg.

So, I frequented the Honey Buckets, took some Tums, kept my hydration and nutrition systematic and clean, and hoped things would be a bit better during my next three runs.

Didn’t have satellite for first part (~.2 m) of the run

^^^ wtf, that’s not what the map looked like??

12:55 AM: Leg #2, 7.5 miles

First middle of the night run ever! Despite the pain of run number 1, the promise of cooler temperatures and a shorter distance kept my spirits higher for this run. Plus, I’d gotten a little sleep beforehand, so I tried to maintain a positive attitude. The run was all through farm land (read: DARK) and pretty flat the whole time.

There were very few people around me during this run, which meant that I was relying almost solely on my headlamp for guidance and light. I immediately felt so much better than I had earlier, which I was sure was due the decreased heat and sun exposure.

So, despite the run being a little spooky and smelly (so many cows), the 7.5 miles ticked by moderately pleasantly. It was encouraging to finish and know that not only had my stomach settled a bit, but I was over halfway done with my mileage!

The best part of this run was when it dawned on me halfway through that I was in the middle of nowhere in Idaho, at 1 in the morning, with a bunch of strangers, running. I almost started laughing out loud at the obscurity of it all, but I also realized that this was half the fun in relays…and in running. There isn’t a lot of sense to it, but we love it anyway.

8:15 AM: Leg 3, 8.9 miles

After my 1 am run, I’d been able to get a little more sleep, which meant that cumulatively, I think I totaled around 3 hours for the night…which in relay terms might as well have been a coma. I was so happy! Thanks goes entirely to our driver Luke, who ended up driving the entire race which enabled some uninterrupted van-sleeping.

Needless to say, I was feeling pretty good about my next leg. It was about 9 miles, and although it was getting war,m I thought that running closer to the time of day I normally run would help with how I felt.

And as much as I hate to say it, I was completely wrong.

I stopped enjoying this run about two miles in, and it got progressively worse until the very end.

What was going on?! I normally have a bad run once every three weeks or so, if that, and here I was in my second in less than 12 hours. Part of me found it amusing, but a bigger part of me was just frustrated. I was in good shape, I had slept-ish, I was hydrated, fueled, etc…there was no reason to feel like this.

Except for the most obvious factor which I’d been afraid of all along: the heat.

Let me paint a quick picture of what this third leg looked like: Approximately 75 degrees, on exposed highway, with the first 5 miles gradual uphill.

So looking at it that way, it sounds a little bit more understandable as to why it didn’t feel great. But, I was still down on myself for feeling so low. I knew all my teammates had struggled, but I felt like this just wasn’t acceptable. My inner monologue was something along the lines of:

“I hate running, why am I doing this?”

“Buck up captain! You need to keep up a game face for your team!”

“Better you than them, better you than them…”

“Where’s the nearest Slurpie machine?”

In essence, these miles all sucked. There was little to no shade, long and unforgiving highway roads, and a general negative attitude to boot.

As I’m sure you can guess, I was, once again, thrilled to see the exchange. It was great to know that handing off to Tasha meant that my team was in the homestretch of finishing this bad boy up.

Go, Tasha, Go!

I don’t even care that I’m getting a GoPro in my face right now, just hand me more water.

Just before my final leg, our Runner #4, Rose, ran her final 4 miles—and managed to do so a minute per mile faster than she’d been averaging before.

Essentially, right before she started, Luke asked her if she thought she could push it in those last 4, and she immediately jumped at the idea. She’s a former track/cross country athlete, so I knew the idea of a little speed would be fun for her—despite her tired legs.

Watching her gut out those last few miles at a sub 8 pace was incredible! Our van followed along almost the entire time with Luke coaching her the whole time. It was so inspiring and it reminded me of just how much fun you can have with running, even in the most trying circumstances.

rockstar

The best part (for me) came near the end of her leg. As we prepared to drive off to the exchange, Luke asked if anyone could pace her the rest of the way. It took me approximately one second to go from my seat belt and flip flops to my running shoes and running alongside Rose. We had about a half mile to go, and I had such a fun time helping her push til the end. It was the best my legs had felt the entire relay, too, and although I knew I still had 5 miles of my own to do later on, it was completely worth it to help Rose leave it all out on the course. And I say “help” loosely, since I’m fairly certain she would have done it all on her own. At least I got to enjoy the high with her 🙂

It was easily the best highlight from the relay.

3:35 PM: Leg 4, 4.75 miles

I knew I shouldn’t have too many expectations going into my final leg, given how the morning run had gone. It was also hotter now, and although I only had about 5 miles to go, I knew it was going to be a test for my tired legs.

Nevertheless, I was SO excited to finish things up for my team and to complete the adventure. Since everyone was done at that point, I was so full of pride that I wasn’t too concerned with my own final leg. It had been so inspiring to see all of them finish, and I just hoped I could muster up a little bit of strength to bring it home for everyone.

After being peer pressured by Luke a bit, I told him if possible…I would try to push my pace a little. As soon as I started, I didn’t see another option: it might hurt, but it would get me to the finish line faster.

So push I did. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was certainly faster than my end-of-relay legs were planning on. However, I didn’t see much point in trying to conserve.

The sun was hot, but I didn’t really care anymore. The only thing I was focused on was getting those last miles run so I could get back to my team at the end.

The final 2.5 miles of the Spokane to Sandpoint course finish on a very long, open bridge—which I initially thought would be an awesome and scenic end to the race.

And while it was certainly scenic, there really wasn’t anything pleasant about it—specifically after running over 30 miles in the day beforehand. It was so ridiculously hot, and there wasn’t anywhere to hide from the exposed sun. I kept my focus on picking off the runners ahead of me, while trying to ignore the desire to walk/jump in the water/curl up on the path. (5 kills in the last 3 miles!)

After crossing the bridge, I got a little jolt knowing that the end was near. There were spectators and fellow relay-ers along the sidewalks, which helped get me excited to finish. I was really feeling the 8 minute pace and the previous 35 miles at this point, but I didn’t care…it was time to finish this thing.

I don’t know if I’d ever been happier to see a finish line once it came into view. I got to run along a grassy lawn which felt like heaven after all the pavement pounding, and my wonderful team was right there waiting to finish what we started.

my face here really explains it all…

33 hours and 13 minutes after Tasha took off at the top of Mt. Spokane, we made it.

It took me a few minutes to get my wits about me at the finish line, but after the sweat stopped dripping and my heart slowed down a bit, I was completely overwhelmed with excitement and pride. Somehow, all those brutal miles disappeared from my memory and were replaced with joy for my team and for the sport.

We were announced the women’s ultra team winners over the loud speaker, and we gathered our prizes (shiny metal goblets) and medals along with our t-shirts and beer tickets (obviously the most important part).

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My favorite picture of the race.

Draping each of my teammates with their medals was a true highlight, and I felt so honored to have run alongside all these incredible women and athletes.

After some cheers-ing, reminiscing, and photo taking, we were spent with our Spokane to Sandpoint adventure and headed home for pizza and showers. The hour and a half drive back to Spokane was a little surreal; it took just 90 minutes to return to the place we’d started over 30 hours beforehand.

This race proved to be a true momento to the summer I’ve had. It was an adventure in running but also in mental endurance, in teamwork, and in handling adversity—all of which, in the end, makes each of us a stronger athlete and competitor. This race, and this summer of running, has shown me that hard work truly does yield the most satisfying results. It may be tough getting there, but the reward is so much sweeter knowing that you fought hard the whole way…especially when it’s alongside such an incredible group of people.

I’m hoping to carry the things I’ve learned this summer into my next running adventures, wherever they may lead. Because if I’ve learned nothing else, it’s that you never know where running (and running friends) can take you.

And I can’t wait to find out.

Thank you Spokane to Sandpoint for making this event so memorable. You tested every ounce of endurance we all had, and while we may have cursed you at the time, in the end you put on one kickass show.

Girls Just Wanna Run, you’re an inspiration. Congratulations to you all!

Spokane to Sandpoint Relay Women’s Ultra Team Winners

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I have an extraordinarily overwhelming amount of feelings and details to share about all the madness that occurred this past weekend. Unfortunately, the time and care I need/want to put into it isn’t quite available to me currently. So for right now, I’ll just give a quick overview.

In a word, it was incredible. Incredible, in the very all-encompassing sense of the word. Incredible difficulty. Incredible fun. Incredible heat. Incredible women. Incredible support. Incredible scenery. Incredible inspiration.

The list really goes on and on. And while I’m kind of still in the midst of unraveling from the adventure itself, I’ve already realized the biggest takeaway I learned this weekend: It’s the hardest things, the most trying events, that make the greatest and most lasting impact.

I’m sure you can guess, then, that this race was not easy for me. Not that I expected a fun run, of course, but for a multitude of reasons—this was perhaps the hardest race of my entire life. It was humbling, and I learned a lot about myself as a runner. All the details will be saved for later, and believe me—there are lots of ugly ones.

But, pain and fatigue and chafing and discomfort aside, the thing I feel more than anything right now is pride. My team wowed me the entire time, and it was truly an honor to run alongside such strong females.

We finished the race in 33 hours, 13 minutes, and 21 seconds, and finished as the first women’s ultra team. Every single one of us was beyond thrilled to see that finish line.

A true race recap will follow soon, and I hope I can try to convey the grit shown by these badass chicks on my team, not to mention to professional-level driving and general race support done by our awesome driver.

And the best news is (thanks solely to my teammates) there are tons and tons of photos.

Stay tuned…

Deja Vu: Ultra Relay Take 2

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So, on Friday I’m running another ultra relay…my second in a month.

“Hmm….how can I do this again as soon as possible?”

I know, I don’t understand either.

My only excuse for this binge on intensive relay running is that I’m easily peer-pressured into running events. I’m also a little intoxicated with that summertime euphoria that makes you blindly agree to any and all activities that involve being outside with fun people.

The race, Spokane to Sandpoint, starts in Spokane, WA and traverses across Eastern Washington and finishes in Sandpoint, ID.

To top it off, thanks to a certain baby being born a little too close to this race, I’ve assumed the captain role. It certainly adds a different element to race day prep, and while it’s a little stressful, it offers a great distraction from actually being stressed about the running. Should be a nice wake up call when I start the first of my four legs on Friday night, huh? 🙂

On that note…the way I’ve arranged our legs is definitely different than typical ultra relay fashion, and I’m hoping it’s not a horrible flustercuck. Essentially, breaking down mileage into 3 legs per person (with each runner assuming two 12-man team legs at a time) wasn’t giving an even distribution of miles. One runner was going to need to do an 18+ mile run in the middle of the race, and it just wasn’t very fair overall.

So, I did some recalculations, and now we’re each doing 4 legs, and ALL of us have our longest leg first. I was proud for figuring that part out. I’m hoping it should be alright…four legs is a lot, but the distances gradually get fewer and fewer for everyone, so that should help.

I’m runner number 6 again, and here’s how my legs are going to break down:

Leg 1, 5:00 pm: 13.92 miles

Leg 2, 1:00 am: 7.56 miles

Leg 3, 8:15 am: 8.89 miles

Leg 4, 3:50 pm: 4.79 miles

Barring any casualties, I’m counting on those last 4.79 miles to feel like heaven. Not that my legs will feel good, but I’m thinking that only running 5 miles will be some good motivation to get to the finish line fast.

So, while I’m a little stressed with logistics, I’m truly really excited. After I crossed the finish line at Ragnar, I instantly knew I wanted to do it all again. Be careful what you wish for, right? This race will be much warmer than Ragnar (scary) BUT it will be much flatter and hopefully just as scenic.

This is where I get to run to the finish line…not bad.

And most importantly…my team! Our team name was originally “Awesome Bloggers,” but through several substitutions and roster changes, it turns out that only two of us actually have blogs (shock! I know).

Our new name is “Girls Just Wanna Run,” and we’re planning on blaring some Cyndi Lauper more than once while on the course. We are a motley crew that came together through random running connections, but I can’t wait to get to know everyone better. The best part of relays, in my opinion. This super fast chick is on the team too, and with her mutual love for relays and running, I’m predicting an enthusiastic van (well, at least between the two of us :))

I’m hoping to drop in before we head off to Spokane on Thursday night, but if not…you can expect delirious 2 am van tweets and plenty of pictures along the way from me.

The summer of racing and running continues! And really, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Has anyone ever run Spokane to Sandpoint? Has anyone ever run a relay where they ran more than 3 legs?

The Birdie Turns Into a Bird

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My blog pseudonym is not just a fun wordplay on my name (Robyn). In fact, the origins of the “Birdie” nickname date back to when I was a scrawny and awkward freshman in high school.

I had just made the basketball team after a nerve wracking three days of tryouts. Almost immediately on the first day of practice, I was bestowed the nickname “Birdie” by the older gals. It stuck like glue, and from then on—in all the sports I played—I was rarely called by my actual name. Some old friends still call me Birdie, and thus it became the inspiration behind my blog title.

I’m the pig-tailed one on the bottom right.

Back in my high school days, the only place I really felt completely comfortable and like myself was on the court (and the softball field and the track). Being a three-sport athlete was how I matured in those years, and to this day I’m grateful for all the lessons I learned and friends I made along the way. No surprise— I still associate the “Birdie” name with all those experiences that built me up, helped me feel strong, and fueled my athletic endeavors. Birdie was my athletic alter-ego in a way; the person I became when I was given the chance to train and compete. I’ve carried this title into my current life as a runner (see: blog URL, header, twitter handle, etc.), and it’s become a happy reminder of the days when my ambitions as an athlete really started to blossom.

It is no wonder, then, why the cute clothes with birds on them first caught my eye in Seattle running stores. I soon discovered the brains behind the fabrics were a small, local group of women, operating under the all-too-appropriate name, Oiselle. As a former François student, I knew this meant “bird” in French—and was tickled by the triple-threat combo of the running, the French femininity, and the bird icon.

Being a Seattle runner, it didn’t take long before the internet (namely Twitter) connected the dots, and I quickly began to learn what this company was all about. That initial jolt of giddiness soon turned into an insane level of respect, admiration, and inspiration for all the great things this company was bringing to women’s running. Of course, the clothing speaks for itself; comfort, looks, performance, fit— it really has it all. I constantly find myself either “saving” my Oiselle clothes for long runs or key workouts (look good feel good, right?), or avoiding wearing my Oiselle gear as I love to wear it for everyday use. It’s a great problem to have and speaks to the expertise put into the design.

However, while fashion is all well and good, the thing that ultimately struck me about Oiselle was their advocacy for female runners. From the professional track stars to the novice age-groupers, Oiselle seemed to be rooting for women in all levels of running. Their passion helped me to recognize the potential in my own running—that it could be a sport, a lifestyle, and not just a “way to stay in shape.”

Running, to me, has become a means of building my external and internal strength as an athlete and as a woman. As it turned out, I discovered that this was exactly the ethos of Oiselle’s racing team— a group of women who support Oiselle’s mission and subsequently represent all the goodness that exists in women’s running. I had to be a part of it.

Patience was necessary when I first expressed interest in being on the team. Not only were there several Seattle gals interested in Oiselle, but there were hundreds of runners all over the country vying for a spot themselves. Oiselle was intent on maintaining a sisterhood within their team, understandably, and while I was anxious to be a part of it all—I could respect that this camaraderie was imperative in Oiselle’s overall mission. I supported their mission, so how could I not support this decision?

So I waited, but my interest never waned. After a few nudges to try once more, I gave it another shot, and I’m so proud to announce that I am now one of the newest members of Oiselle’s Volée Racing Team!

I cannot begin to explain how excited I am about this opportunity. I’m honored and ecstatic for this development in my career as a runner, and it feels like the beginning of something very good. The idea of contributing to a team again—especially a team of such strong women and runners—is so exhilarating, and I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that this is exactly what I need. I intend to wholeheartedly represent the brand and it’s mission while reaching toward my own running goals, and I look forward to cheering on and learning from all the other incredible women involved.

I never really considered that, as an adult, I could feel like that same enthusiastic and motivated athlete that I did back in my Birdie days. I figured that those days of competition and being a part of a team were behind me, and I could silently play the part by being an amateur runner.

Suddenly, it feels like that first day of practice again. It’s exciting, humbling, a little scary, and perhaps more than anything—motivating. The Birdie has turned into a Bird, and it seems there are endless, open skies ahead.

Volée!

Ragnar Ultra Relay- The good, the bad, and the ugly

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Such an original title, no?

Oh well…it is very appropriate in describing how this post details what went well and what did not go so well this past weekend.

Something that went well: tattoo application.

Overall, I would give the race and my experience two big thumbs up. The memories I know will stick are all the happy ones, and that’s really what’s important in the grand scheme.

However, there were certain dark points this past weekend, some of which could have been avoided, some of which were inevitable. At any rate, I thought I’d give you a look at the behind-the-scenes footage, besides elevation charts and mileage.

And a fair warning, there’s a lot of honestly coming up, some of which might be an over-share. But, my hope is that perhaps some of my experience can help others in their own relay experiences, and sometimes that requires getting a little bit nitty-gritty. And let’s be real…modesty doesn’t really exist in a running relay, especially in an ultra. So, sorry I’m not sorry I guess.

The Good

The thing that surprised me the most on this adventure was that the running actually was—dare I say—the easiest part? Well, not necessarily that it was easy, because it certainly took a lot out of us. But much to my surprise…I felt the best all weekend when I was out on my runs.

I attribute this to a few things:

1) Fresh air—after sitting in the van for hours, it felt really good to spend time outside.

2) Moving! I would get restless sitting for so long. And, as runners, I think we both consciously and subconsciously get jealous when we’re witnessing others running. Basically, it really just felt good to do what we came for—to run.

3) Endorphins, runner’s high, etc.—when you’re desperate for energy, even these physiologically-created sources do wonders for a person in a depleted state. I felt much more awake after my runs than I did while chilling in the van.

For example, after my 5:30 am hilly 15.5 miler, I got in the van, exclaimed I felt “so great!” and everyone in the van said that positivity wasn’t allowed because they were all grumpy (okay, it was mostly a joke). But, just goes to show that while I was definitely as exhausted as all of them, running really helped offer a boost.

The Bad

Don’t I look like I’m having fun?

In my opinion, the hardest part of Ragnar/an ultra relay is the lack of sleep. I’m a runner who really loves her sleep; I try and get as much as I can, and I can almost always attribute a bad run to being sleep deprived. That said, I knew running 35 miles on “van sleeping” would be interesting.

I think I underestimated just how little sleep there would be…and by little, I mean “none.” I was definitely warned about this, but I figured a half hour nap here and there was bound to happen.

Nope, nada. The best we could all hope for was a few minutes of eyes closed and feet up. I did manage to do this for a little while around 3 am, and it was definitely helpful, but obviously it didn’t make up for a full night without sleep.

To make matters worse, on Thursday night before Ragnar, I think I slept 5 hours or so as prep and race excitement got the better of my normal in-bed-by-9 schedule.

The most zombie-esque point of the race was between 11 pm- 4 am or so. I felt foggy, cranky, and my head hurt from being awake for so long. Luckily, as stated above, my early morning run woke me up and gave me enough energy to crank through the rest of the day. It’s weird how that works; it’s like your body forgets you haven’t slept and somehow generates enough energy to keep going.

Of course, this would end immediately after crossing the finish line. We were all zonked on the drive back to Seattle, and while it’s a petty thing to be upset about…I feel like the fatigue takes away a little bit from the glory of finishing. It took until the next day for me to really internalize just how awesome the race was, and I’m certain it was because I was too tired to process it beforehand. I guess this is the same thing that happens after a marathon, and it’s kind of like wanting your cake and eating it too. But, you know, it would be nice to actually feel up for a beer with your team after the race, right? I don’t think that’s too whiny.

But, of course, the fatigue is all part of the experience and makes the craziness of running 200 miles all the more crazy. I have a feeling 50 and 100 ultrarunners would be laughing in my face right now.

The Ugly

So those stomach issues I’ve been mentioning over the last couple of months? Yea, so, turns out…digestive diseases really, really, really don’t like straight-through-the-night relay races. And in fact, they will punish you cruelly for thinking that you can take them on one.

Basically, from about 9 pm through 5 am, I couldn’t stop using the bathroom. Thank goodness there were so many port-a-potties everywhere, because at every stop we came to I would need to beeline for those life-saving Honey Buckets. And once I’d be done, more often than not, I’d have to turn around and go right back in.

It sucked. And while stomach issues seemed to be a theme for our van, I think that my colitis just had a raging fit and amplified to uncontrollable levels. I think it also didn’t help that I was so hydrated (something that tends to fuel my issues). It was a catch-22; I needed to stay hydrated because of all the running and all the “going,” but it was one of the causes of all my ailments. I also really wanted to try and drink more coffee for the aforementioned fatigue, but I couldn’t handle anything that would be a diuretic.

Fortunately, things seemed to calm down after my second run (and thankfully nothing went wrong during the run), but this was definitely the worst part of Ragnar for me. I’m going to try and figure out exactly what fueled it (besides the off-hours and the excess water) before Spokane to Sandpoint so I can try to avoid these issues a little bit.

…

But ultimately? The good parts far outweighed any of the less-than-stellar parts. I’d do again in a heartbeat (and obviously I will be doing it again…:) ) and I think that some experiences need to have a little grit and grime in them to really bring to light the awesome parts. Running down that finishing chute probably wouldn’t have felt as good if I didn’t suffer a little bit to get there.

Just like running in day-to-day life, it’s the bad runs that make the good ones that much better, and I think it’s the tough parts of Ragnar that make the whole experience so memorable. And hey…if you can’t bond with people while having uncontrollable bathroom issues, when can you, right?

What do you think are the BEST and WORST parts about relay races?

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Category Archives: Running

Bellingham Bay Half-Marathon Race Recap

Making a Plan, Changing the Plan

Playing Catch-Up: Running, pets, and Boston

A Year Without Injuries

So about that half-marathon goal…

Spokane to Sandpoint Ultra Relay Race Recap

Spokane to Sandpoint Relay Women’s Ultra Team Winners

Deja Vu: Ultra Relay Take 2

The Birdie Turns Into a Bird

Ragnar Ultra Relay- The good, the bad, and the ugly