There are a whole range of topics that I want to blog about right now.

“Want” being the operative word in that sentence, since in the past few months I’ve admittedly not been “wanting” to blog about much of anything. But, somehow, through all that’s been going on and through all the inevitable life-examination that happens at the end of the year, I’ve found myself anxious to put my hands on the keys.

Since it’s kind of necessary to do some updating, before I dive into all these “want” topics I’ll catch you up-to-speed on what’s been happening in life since I last wrote.

Stomach Stuff

The most important update I have is that after a month of failing health and general misery, I’m on a definite upswing! Fortunately, the medication my doctor prescribed seems to have worked magically with my unhappy gut, and I’ve been on the mend for the past two weeks or so. It was pretty remarkable how quickly I went from a nearly bed-ridden existence to feeling somewhat like myself again. It was night and day, really, and I feel really lucky especially since this particular medication doesn’t always work on everyone. That, and since there’s still plenty of unknowns about Crohn’s, there wasn’t really a way to predict just how long my flare up would last.

So, the short and long of it: I’m so much better than I was just a few weeks ago, and although I’m still experiencing some symptoms and won’t be eating raw vegetables anytime soon…I think it’s safe to say I’m nearing the other side of this flare up.

I’m so very thankful for the progressive return of my health, and I’m hoping that whatever started working continues to do so.

Christmas Update

While I was a self-proclaimed Grinch in my last post, luckily my symptom relief coincided nicely with Christmas Eve and Day. I was able to celebrate a wonderful Christmas, and despite not being able to enjoy a lot of the season, I feel like I got a good fill. I spent Christmas in Colorado with my family, and we’ve since traversed the country (yes, I was able to go on the road trip!) and are currently spending New Year’s in Pasadena, CA. We’re going to the Rose Parade tomorrow and I can’t wait. Being around people I love combined with an increase in energy has been a special kind of medicine that has undoubtedly helped my mending process.

Running Update

When I was really sick, the last thing on my mind was exercise. It was the first time in years that I had no care whatsoever for how inactive I was. The little energy I did have was completely devoted to getting myself to work and performing the most basic of functions. Needless to say, my fitness kind of went down the tubes. I also lost a good amount of weight, a lot of which came straight from my hard-earned glute and quad muscles. Sad. I think I spent about two and a half weeks of literally doing nothing at all, and once I started feeling better, the most I could muster up were little hikes or walks around my neighborhood in Colorado. And when you haven’t been doing anything at all for weeks, those baby walks feel like a huge accomplishment.

As you might remember, before all this whole flare up business happen, I wasn’t running at all. I was doing physical therapy on my bursitis-filled leg 2-3 times a week, and things were definitely getting better. But once my gut decided to explode, I couldn’t manage to get myself into PT anymore, and my grand return to running was further delayed. Once I started to feel like a human being again, however, my curiosity of how my bum leg would fare on the run began to return. I was out-of-shape, I was at 6,000 feet of altitude in CO, and I knew my injury wasn’t totally healed. But still, it was too tempting to not test.

So, on Christmas Eve, I laced up my neglected running shoes and very slowly started to jog. I felt creaky, awkward, and slow. My breathing was heavy right from the start, and I can guarantee I haven’t run that slowly in years. But, somehow, 2.5 miles later…I was still standing upright. There was nothing pretty about it, but for the first time in a month and a half of PT exercises, ellipticals, and illness, I ran.

Two days later, I was able to get out again, and this time I went a little over 3.5 miles. And two days ago, I ran for 50 minutes. It’s humbling, to say the least; my stride is janky, my speed is gone, and my lungs are burning after just a mile. But we all have to start somewhere, and given the state of my body just a few weeks ago, I consider this progress a big success. It’s going to be a long road, no doubt about it. My leg is still healing, and I’m going to continue to do all of the tedious recovery necessities to be 100% pain free again. The endurance fitness that I have always been able to fall back on has been wiped away, and I’m essentially starting from scratch.

But, I can’t help but think of this as a beautiful opportunity for small victories. On Christmas Eve, 2.5 miles felt like a success. 2 days ago, 50 minutes felt like an even bigger success. In this regard, I’m looking forward to reliving all those wonderful milestones that come with returning to running.

Additionally, starting over gives a whole new appreciation for the sport, and all the great lessons learned along the way. I can promise there will be some whining and general complaining during the process, but I’m hoping to use this opportunity as a sort of running re-birth; as a chance to get smarter, stronger, and hopefully at some point — faster.

So while the end of 2013 wasn’t what I expected, I’m hoping that my reintroduction to the running world will make 2014 something truly special.

And in case you’re wondering, I do have a plan for Boston. And a plan for the year in general, both of which I’ll be sharing soon.

Happy happy New Year to everyone! This was, overall, a wonderful year for me with a not-so-wonderful ending, so I’ll be both celebrating it this evening and kicking its butt out the door.

Step on in, 2014.

…or “Thankful Things Friday.” Because we all know all blog posts need a catchy title that coincides with the day-of-the-week.

Here’s the deal: my sense of holiday spirit and my general attitude toward life has been in the pits the past few weeks. Save for buying presents for my peeps and putting up the tree, I’ve mainly been avoiding the fact that my favorite season is currently being drowned in sickness.

The cookies I would be baking, the parties I would be attending, the jingle bell dashes I would be running…all of those ordinarily joyful Christmas things haven’t happened. Actually, they haven’t even been considered.

It’s sucked, no doubt. I still have yet to have one Christmas cookie, and I’m not even sure I’ll be able to have one this year. I heard “Where Are You Christmas?” on the radio the other day and nearly started ugly-sobbing on the spot. But, the nice thing about annually occurring holidays is that they’ll be here again. Presuming all is well and good next year, I will undoubtedly celebrate to the max — making up for all the Grinching I’ve done this year.

But, until that time comes, I’ve realized that despite the fact that most of my merry holiday expectations haven’t been met, there are still things I’m thankful for—with or without my health.

So, instead of hate-writing everything I’m bitter about right now, I thought it might do my toxic mind a little good to recap those things for which I am glad about:

1) I’m thankful I no longer have to take finals.

Can I get an amen? Seriously — I forgot just how ridiculously stressful all those semester-end tests made the Christmas season. After reading some Facebook statuses from friends still in school, I was thrilled that I no longer needed to worry about all-night study sessions or last-minute paper writing. Sure, I’d like to go back to school someday, but for right now — I’m relishing just how lovely all my homework-free evenings have been.

2) I’m thankful I’m done with Christmas shopping.

As mentioned previously, all my shopping is actually something I have accomplished despite my otherwise sluggish existence. I did have a slight advantage in this regard; I try to start shopping early, mainly to make the bank-account blow a little more spread out. So, I was mostly done before I got sick. Otherwise, Amazon is my bff. You can get EVERYTHING on there, people. I still don’t understand why some actively choose to go to malls when you can comfortably take your time at your computer screen instead and achieve nearly the exact same outcome? Whatever.

I’m happy I’m done, and I really love giving gifts, so it will be fun to do some giving.

3) I’m thankful for Jasper.

My little kitten has been a shining little ball of light during this dark spell.  Sure, I have to be very conscious of him not pouncing on my stomach, and the smell of his food makes me even more nauseated, but otherwise — he brings a smile to my face. His energy and innocent curiosity are infectious, and it’s hard to remain too sullen when there’s a purring kitten vying for your attention. I also think he kind of knows I’m sick, because he’s paid particular attention to laying down with me and near my head.

4) I’m thankful I’ll be escaping Seattle on Saturday.

This weekend, BF and I will be jetting off to the motherland, Colorado, for a cold-climate Christmas. While I’m not looking forward to the flight itself, I have a feeling I will be incredibly relieved to be at home. I might not be able to do much of anything, but at the very least, I’ll have a different couch to watch my muscles atrophy into. Okay, in all seriousness, I know that being around my family will brighten my spirits no matter the circumstances. Brightening is really what I’m in need of right now, so I’m thankful for the vacation time that allows for this much-needed trip.

After CO, we’re allegedly road-tripping to Pasadena, CA for a warm-climate New Year. I say allegedly, because my ability to road-trip is questionable at the moment, but you never know how I’ll feel in a week. Either way, I’ll be there with even more of my family and I can’t wait. We have tickets to the Rose Parade, and I’m commanding my body to be up for it.

This trip is coming at the perfect time, and I’m thankful for the people waiting on the other end for me.

5) I’m thankful for a boyfriend who doesn’t care that his girlfriend is going to the bathroom after every other bite.

That was supposed to be a little funny. But, I am indeed so thankful for my nurse, Mr. BF, who has tended to my every need over the past three weeks. Not only that, but he’s been keeping our home live-able, which is vital for my mental state to remain in tact. He is also willing to hear about all my less-than-beautiful symptoms and ailments, and if that doesn’t indicate a keeper…I don’t know what does.

Unfortunately, I haven’t felt like a good girlfriend in a long time, and BF has not only tolerated my belly-aching (both literal and figurative) but he’s acted like a teammate along the way. I couldn’t really ask for more.

6) I’m thankful for grilled cheese sandwiches…

…and mac and cheese. I can’t stomach a lot of things, but bread and cheese are true saving graces right now. I’m starting to get a little disgusted with just how much of these food groups I’ve been consuming every day, but…desperate times man. My doctor instructed me to eat anything and everything that sounds appetizing, so I’m going for it. My weight isn’t exactly a concern nowadays either, so it’s actually probably a good thing I include the extra Beecher’s when I can.

On that note, I am a little horrified of just how much muscle I think I’ve already lost. Ordinarily, when I’m not running, I’m at least doing enough substitutes that my fitness stays in tact. Not this time, folks. It’s looking like I’ll be starting from square one whenever I’m back in the saddle, and while that scares the daylights out of me…it leads me to my last thankful thing:

7) I’m thankful for hope.

Hope in getting healthy. Hope in getting to Boston. Hope in getting my feet back under me. The nice thing about getting the carpet swept out from under you is that there’s really no where to go but up. I am a chronically hopeful person, and while this situation has certainly rocked my world, it has only re-established my belief that hope is sometimes the best medicine. I intend to celebrate each small victory I can, and while the process is going to be slow, I know I won’t be taking any of the small steps for granted.

This morning, for instance, I was able to put on makeup without getting too tired and having to sit down. It sounds so silly to consider this a feat, but in comparison to how I’ve been feeling otherwise, this was a big win for me.

On that note, here’s a small update: I am feeling a little better. I’m reluctant to say so, since there’s been some good days and bad days, but generally—since I received my first treatment injection last week—my worst symptoms seem to have lightened up.

So while I’m not ready to go making tons of plans or make a training schedule, I’m trying to keep positive thoughts flowing. Because, after all, sometimes optimism can cure even the Grinchiest of birds.

No matter your current health, running, job, financial status, etc., I encourage everyone to think about the good that still exists. I can promise, more than likely, there’s more than you realize.

Thank you everyone for your kind notes, texts, and emails. I truly appreciate your words, and it makes me even more thankful for this supportive community.

“When something works, you wonder how it ever breaks. When something breaks, you wonder how it ever worked.”

This post is not an add-on to my IT band injury.

In fact, an alternative title could have been, “How to ensure you rapidly fix your running injury and simultaneously not care that you have one at all!”

Sounds like a revolution, right? Well, that alternative “title” was actually my attempt at humor, in an otherwise humor-less post.

The truth is: my IT band is getting much better, and while I’m definitely glad for it—running is really the last thing on my mind right now.

It took a while for me to decide whether or not I would write this post. I wavered between thinking it was over-sharing and thinking it was therapeutic. I’ve landed somewhere in the middle, and while I’m going to hold onto some privacy and not provide too many details, the truth is that I’m a writer. When I’m at a complete loss, which unfortunately I am right now, writing is one of the few elixirs I can count on to cleanse my mind. At least for a little bit.

You may or may not have heard on here before that I’ve dealt with ulcertive colitis for nearly 5 years now. It’s mostly been in remission, and with the exception of a bad flare up right around the Eugene Marathon (great timing, I know), I haven’t been too radically affected by it.

Somehow, in the course of just two weeks, that all changed.

I’ve yet to come up with any reason why (and perhaps there is none), but over the past 14 days my health has completely deteriorated. I currently feel like a shell of myself, and while my mind is still trying to get used to the shock of it all—my attention is primarily focused on the physical side of things.

Essentially, what started as a stomach ache turned into intolerable intestinal pain, coupled by absolutely zero energy, innumerable bathroom trips, and an aversion to nearly all food. My doctor had an emergency procedure done last Friday after checking me out on Thursday night, and somehow my remissed colitis has advanced, taken over my gut, and is now classified as Crohn’s disease.

It was not, let’s just say, a great way to start the weekend or holiday season.

I went in for a blood and biopsy follow-up yesterday afternoon, and I’m currently popping more pills than anyone my age ever should. My charts “look terrible” and indicate all of the concerns my doctor had initially. We have a plan in place, and I can only hope that by some luck it’s the right formula to get this under control. I’ve been able to garner some energy during the days, but every night/morning has been an incessant battle of fatigue, bathroom trips, and complete discomfort.

I’m feeling both very checked in and checked out at this point. In one regard, I’m acutely tuned into every little change and signal in my body. But in the other regard, nearly every other thing that typically builds me up and brings me joy has been shoved to the back of my mind. It makes me feel like a complete stranger to myself, and that may be one of the toughest things of all.

I’m someone who thrives on living fully, on to-do lists, on making the most of everything, and in my current state, I consider doing a dish or getting dressed a success. In a matter of a few days, my survival instincts have completely taken over my every-day instincts, and it’s really throwing me off. I haven’t even considered exercise recently, and this is easily the longest I’ve gone in years without even caring about missing it. There’s about 5 different foods that I can tolerate the thought of, and that list is getting whittled down by the day.

So that’s where I’m at. Two of my most treasured attributes, my running and my health, have both jetted off to some unknown future destination. While I know they’ll both return, I’m feeling a little blind ambling back toward them without a schedule or a timeline.

Please know that I am not writing this in an attempt to solicit pity or sympathy. I have many blessings for which I’m especially thankful for right now, and I fully know that things could certainly be much worse. I just felt it was fair to my readers to notify you of where I’ve been, and I needed someplace to unload a bit.

Your health is an incredibly important and often times taken-for-granted part of life. It’s so easy to forget how lucky we are to have normal, functioning bodies when they are working properly. As said in the beginning of this post, you wonder how it ever breaks. But when it is broken, as mine unfortunately is, you long for those days of unconsciously living your life.

Please, remember to live consciously, and be thankful for your health. 

Since I told you all that I’d keep you updated on how my whole mystery leg pain situation is going (note: not using the i-word), here’s some current info:

Things have been progressively getting better since my 2-mile limp home disaster 1.5 weeks ago. I’m 95% sure right now it’s not a stress fracture, given the healing status and since I didn’t really think it was one to begin with. While I haven’t gone back to the doctor (I don’t really see a need at this point), I’ve kind of been going with a self-diagnosis of really bad IT Band Syndrome. And before I get harped on for trusting WebMD, let me just say that this is based on the fact that I’ve had this ailment before, and the knee pain I experienced then compared to now is nearly identical.

However, I’m still a little unsure. I definitely think this is in part a very knotty and naughty IT band, however I’m experiencing weakness and little jolts of pain in my upper hip/thigh area too, which isn’t necessarily a symptom of ITBS. I guess it could be a residual thing, but at this point my higher levels of pain are localized more up in that region rather than in my knee. It’s odd. I can definitely find a few pressure points which are super tender, so that’s something.

Either way, I’m going to a PT/ART guy on Friday, and hopefully I’ll be able to get some more clarity there. I’m excited and nervous—I’ve never had PT or ART before, so it will be an experience nonetheless. I’m guessing my pain tolerance will be tested a bit, but if the end game is running sooner rather than later, I say bring it on.

So, while the healing process is definitely progressive, I’m still wary. I try to knock myself off my cloud of hopefulness when I get too dreamy about a super quick recovery, but at the same time—it’s hard not to. Walking is becoming much more normal, and despite some pain whenever I stand up from sitting—I’m able to get around somewhat comfortably.

Here’s some things I’ve been doing to facilitate healing and keep in shape (both physically and mentally):

-I haven’t run a step. Nor have I really wanted too. I’ve been in this position enough times before to know that full rest from the onset is imperative. At first, I couldn’t try running again even if I’d wanted to, and now that it’s getting to a point where I think a test run could be do-able—I’m still holding off. I want to complete a full two weeks of no running before I try my leg out again. Like I said in my last post, the end goal is not to run again now, but to run again when it’s time to train for Boston. I’m trying with all my might to keep that in mind, despite how much I want to look forward to running sooner.

-Roll/Stretch/Massage. Nothing groundbreaking here, but I’m been rolling and stretching my IT band and hip like it’s my job. It provides pretty immediate relief, and I follow a golden rule that if it hurts to foam roll, it means you should keep doing it. I’ve been trying to find those aforementioned “hot spots” that are super tight/tender and roll the crap out of them. It’s not entirely pleasant, but I like feel like I’m actively trying to help my leg out a bit.

-Cross training. Per doctor’s orders, I’ve kept blood circulating a la all the typical (and torturous) gym cardio-facilitators. I can do pretty much everything, and while my leg is stiff when I start off, once I get moving I can hardly feel it. The elliptical, frankly, blows, but it’s been sufficing for getting a sweat in. Per usual, swimming has been my default cross-training bff. I tried simulating my usual long run Saturday with a long swim last week. While it was definitely a good workout, it is 100% more boring to long swim than long run (fact). I’ve also been trying to hit the weights more often than normal since, you know, I have a little more time. I really don’t like the gym anymore, unfortunately, and this little timeout is reminding me how much I’d been avoiding regularly going and just running instead.

-Meds. I still have prescription anti-inflammatories from when I hurt my ankle before Chicago, and I’ve started a pill-popping regimen. They were a lifesaver before, so hopefully they’ll help move the process along.

-Ice. Who knows it it really helps or not, but I find it very theraputic to take a frozen Dixie cup of water and rub the crap out of my entire upper leg while drinking a hot cup of tea. I feel like I can really dig into the tough spots this way, and ice has always been a good recovery tool for me. So, while it might not be making long-term effects, it helps me feel a little more in control of my uncontrollable circumstance.

-Sleep. While I’m noticeably not as tired as when I’m running as much as usual (shock!), I’m definitely still trying to log as many zzzs as possible. I read somewhere that your body does the most healing while it’s asleep, so maybe that’s part of it. But more so, I kind of feel like I haven’t really “slept in” since…um…before Eugene. There is something so deliciously wonderful about taking your sweet time waking up and getting out of bed in the morning on the weekend, and I’m trying to savor this opportunity to indulge. I think we all know that I prefer to be out running while others are sleeping, but somehow I’m kind of basking in the mental reprieve rather than loathing it.

On that note, I feel like I’m handling this situation far better than I would have pictured, or than I would have a year ago. It could just be growing up more or becoming a more seasoned runner, but I’m finally starting to admit to myself that maybe it’s because I needed the break. I’ve been promising myself “a week” off for months, and because of habit and/or disinterest, I never ended up doing it. Sure, I would have preferred for my off time to be a little less forced, but I have to admit that I actually haven’t missed running that much.

I never thought I would type those words, and I’m guessing you didn’t either 🙂 I’m certain this feeling will pass quite soon, but I think both my body and mind are at peace with taking the down time. I’ve been running 40-50 miles per week for the past 5 months or so, and while I never actively felt burnt out—I’m starting to think I really was. I get sad thinking about not running in the near future (Seattle Half-Marathon, Christmas fun runs, etc.) but I actually haven’t felt the urge to run now. My only explanation for this is that my body and mind have wanted a break for a long time, and now that they’re finally getting one, they’re trying to savor it. I suppose I should thank my subconscious for that. Also, I think I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that running goes hand-in-hand with hiccups. There’s not a runner I know who hasn’t had to take a step back, and I’m realizing that doing so doesn’t make you less of a runner, it’s part of being one.

I’m fully prepared for this zen-state to be broken at any time now, but that’s my update as of late. In a nutshell: I’m getting better, I’m going to have my leg brutally physical-therapied tomorrow, and I’m trying to be patient.

Where have I been?

Good question.

More or less, I’ve been hiding. Hiding from blogging, hiding from people, hiding from reality.

Because my reality is that I’m not running, and that’s not something I want to talk about much at all.

It started out a couple of weeks ago; I’d feel the tiniest tug on the outside of my right knee when I’d get up from my desk. I was curious, but also a little casual about it; sitting for a long time will make already-fatigued muscles cranky, so I pressed on—promising myself to get up more often and roll more.

Running at this point was fine. No pain, no irritation even, just regular ole running. The twinge in my knee subsided too, so I figured I was in the clear. However, last week, after a soaking-wet rain run, things weren’t so okay. The knee ache was definitely there, and it was trying to get my attention. It wasn’t even really painful, just a nuisance. I’d been around this block before to know exactly what that knee pulling was (IT band stuff) and so I decided to take two days completely off and reevaluate on Sunday. Sunday came, and everything felt normal. I prided my over-cautiousness and set out to test my leg on a run.

And things felt great! It was great, cold running weather, my leg felt a little stiff but good, and generally everything was going swimmingly.

Until it wasn’t.

Within the course of about 30 seconds, everything completely fell apart. My knee started throbbing, and then my groin was on fire, and my entire IT band seemed to shorten my leg to the point that my stride was completely lopsided. I pulled to a dead stop, frustrated, and I knew my only choice was to take a runner’s walk of shame back to my car. Bonus: my car was 2 miles away. I had no phone, no money, and was essentially forced to endure a gimpy plod back. And that “great” cold weather? Not so great when you’re slowly walking along a windy beach front in short shorts. The looks I got ranged from sheer horror to “you look so pathetic” sympathy, and none of them did anything to help my already-fuming mood.

Eventually, I got back, got home, stood in the shower for nearly half an hour trying to warm up, and tried to evaluate wtf happened. My “slight knee ache” had turned into complete debilitating hip/quad pain that ripples whenever I walk. Over the past few days, it’s gotten marginally better, but not enough to alleviate the limp that I’m forced to trudge around with.

I went to the doctor yesterday (a very running-specific ortho, highly recommend him) and he asked all kinds of questions, moved my legs in all different kinds of ways, and deduced the somewhat obvious potential diagnoses: it’s either a muscle or a bone.

My instructions are to baby it for a week (no weight bearing, ice, cross training to get blood flow) and if it’s not improving by next Tuesday, more intensive (and expensive) measures will be taken. He left me with some interesting, but conflicting, observations:

-Femoral stress fractures do happen, but since my mileage/intensity hasn’t changed drastically recently, I don’t really fit the profile.

-A quad muscle strain is possible, although they’re rare in runners given the likelihood that their quads are in solid condition

So, basically, neither are likely, but it’s probably one or the other. Confused? Me too. But mostly just disappointed and sad. I’ve spent over a year running pain-free and feeling strong and confident. To go from that to being completely incapable of running (or really even walking) is really discouraging, to say the least.

Somehow, I still have yet to have a total meltdown, which is ordinarily one of my injury-induced specialties. I don’t know if it’s because I’m in denial, if I don’t  really have a diagnosis, or if I’ve just gotten used to the process—but no matter what, I’m still expecting some heaving sobs to happen at some point.

The other thing is that while there’s no good time to be injured, this isn’t necessarily bad timing. The next race I truly care about is Boston, and my healing focus is 100% on getting ready to train for that race. Relatively speaking, I still have a long ways to go until training even starts (beginning of January), so circumstantially, it could be worse. I’m not exactly thrilled about the idea of my fitness going down the tubes right before training starts, but I suppose I’ll just need to roll with those punches when the time comes.

However, at the same time, the beginning of January isn’t that far away. And if this is something serious (stress fracture), there’s a high likelihood that recovery will start to overlap with the technical “start” of training.

But, without any kind of diagnosis, I’m going to hang onto cautious optimism for now. While I really, really don’t like the idea of being totally impaired over the holiday season  and during my favorite running weather, it’s a price I’m 100% willing to pay to be healthy for Boston training.

So there’s my update. I’m in an okay mood for the time being so it felt like a good time to get it all out there. It’s also been feeling better little by little every day so that’s helping. I have a lot more to say on the matter, in terms of both how I should have and shouldn’t have seen this coming. But like I said, for now, I don’t really feel like talking more about it. The thought I’m clutching tightly to right now is that I’ve been in this position before, and I’ve seen the other side of it. Patience is needed in all aspects of running, and this is just another one of those things that needs time.

When I have updates, I’ll post them. For now I’m going back in my cave, protecting the world from the fumes of an angry, sidelined runner.

I’m still having a hard time wrapping my brain around exactly what happened from 9:30 am Friday morning to 4:40 pm Saturday afternoon. As a former relay virgin, I think I can now make a blanket statement that relays are a whole new type of running animal. The no sleep, the random fueling, the mismatched mileage…it’s all very different than your standard running race.

An ultra relay though? I’m willing to bet that this takes all those things to a whole new level.

Ragnar was ridiculous in so many ways. Ridiculously fun, tiring, entertaining, hard, and inspiring. All of those emotions kind of morphed together throughout the hours of running and driving, but now that hindsight is kicking in…I can say that more than anything, this was one of the most fun things I’ve done in a while. I was out of my comfort zone in so many different respects (meeting new people, first time relaying, longest mileage in a single race by far), but it felt so good. I’ve wanted to rattle my chains this year and shake the homebody, antisocial part of me up a bit. Ragnar fit the bill perfectly, and I’m so glad I got to be included.

Instead of breaking up my Ragnar run recaps into three separate posts per standard blogger procedure, I’m going to do a 3-in-1. Mainly because I’m lazy, but also because there is a lot that happens during 35 miles of running, so I think it would suit my readership if I stick with more big picture details. Cool? Cool. Buckle up kids, this is a long one.

And the best news is that there are a ton of photos, thanks to my teammates 🙂 Most are courtesy of Lauren and Rebecca.

Run #1- 6:43 PM, 10.93 miles

As Runner #6, I was feeling pretty antsy to get out on this run. I’d been waiting all day, watching all my teammates complete their distances and runners-highing all over the place…and then there was me, chilling. I was partially thankful for this as the temps were HOT that day and I knew that an evening start would be much cooler, but still…I was restless.

Needless to say, as soon as I received that first hand off, I was off like a light and flew down the hill that kicked off my run.

This run was fine, almost completely flat, and like I said— I was so happy to be out there I would have been pleased with just about any scenery. The second portion was essentially a giant square among corn fields, which got a little boring, but I was still happy to be running. I got to see my team twice too—once when they handed off a headlamp and taillight to me and once when I got temporarily stuck at a crossing train.

I kept reminding myself the whole time that it was a run, not a race. Running too fast would only bite me in the butt the next day, and I did my best to stick to my self-proclaimed 8:30 pace.

This was also my first taste of tallying up “kills” (relay talk for other runners you pass) and—much to no one’s surprise—this was so fun! I couldn’t help but keep the number in my head, and it made the corn fields a lot more bearable.

Running into my exchange with Bethany was exciting, and it felt great to have a check mark next to my first run.

And the only thing better than being done with 1 out of 3 runs was having a footlong sub waiting for me in the car when I was done. After a day of pita chips and Picky Bars, this was heaven.

Run #2- 5:20 am, 15.46 miles

Oh man, this one took some big time pumping up. After a night of driving, 45 minutes of “sleeping” (closing my eyes), and some severe stomach issues—more on that in another post, get pumped—this run was a little nerve wracking.

BUT, the good thing about relays vs. races is that your pace is one of the least important parts. For someone who ordinarily focuses a great deal of their energy on pace, this was a treat—and I decided to just take it easy and enjoy the run. I would get the privilege of running all through Whidbey Island, and I knew going into it that it would be one of the most scenic parts of the Ragnar course. And it was COLD! Seriously, like actually chilly, which most of you can guess I was thrilled about.

Basically, as soon as I started, I was so happy. Mostly happy to be out of the car, but also happy to be doing something so insane and so hard as well. I admittedly love things that are difficult, that test your limits, and running up and down steep hills on the highways of an island at 5:30 am on zero sleep is certainly something that qualifies.

I got to see my wonderful team off and on throughout the run, both on drive-bys and once to get my water bottle filled. A lot of this run was unsupported, though, as Ragnar designates certain portions of roads as “no stop zones” for teams. So, for the most part, it was me and my thoughts and my tunes.

My absolute favorite part of this run was running over Deception Pass. Holy adrenaline!!! I’d never been to this pass before, but essentially it’s a narrow bridge that traverses over Puget Sound from Fidalgo Island to Whidbey Island, and it’s the only way to get to Whidbey by car. And although I knew I’d be running over it, I had no idea A) how beautiful it would be, and B) how HORRIFYING it would be. The sidewalk between the road and the edge of the bridge is really narrow, and it was essentially only a few loosely hanging ropes between me and the ledge. As someone who is terrified of falling off of high places, this was a bridge I would have a hard time walking over or simply standing on. You can imagine my shock/surprise/mild panic attack, then, when I bolted out onto the bridge to discover this.

But it was awesome! The fear combined with the cold wind blowing up from the water and the runner’s high I was already feeling was the perfect recipe for euphoria, and I haven’t felt a jolt of adrenaline like that in a long time.

Okay, Run #2 is getting long. Essentially, other than the beauty of Whidbey and the scary/awesome Deception Pass experience, this run was great—hilly, long, but overall really fun. I was jazzed to finish, and it was really fun to send Bethany off on her LAST run.

Run #3- 3:31 PM, 8.55 miles

Somehow, the fatigue that I was feeling the night before/going into my second run was gone, and my body seemed to be running on a combination of nerves and excitement. I was ready to get this crazy experience over with and finish strong for our team.

My ankle/foot/right leg in general was feeling angry after my second run, so I decided to try switching to my old shoes for the third run, just to mix it up. We were running right on target with our projected times, and we’d made up some ground after being about a half an hour behind previously. I was trying to feed off of everyone’s “We’re already done!” energy as I mustered up the guts to get through my final 8.5 miles. And at that point, 8.5 sounded SO easy, relatively speaking. However, I knew there was a beast of a hill, which would test my already depleted energy stores even further.

After forgetting to start my watch for about 1/3 of a mile (dangit Robyn!), I clocked in, and immediately felt cooked. Yikes…this was going to be a long run. Everything felt heavy, and it was getting warmer by the minute (the day, otherwise, had been overcast). But now, the sun was out and threatening to drain all remnants of strength I had left.

But, I pressed on, and somehow after 2 miles or so, I started to feel great! Somehow, I was passing people fairly consistently, which I’m sure subconsciously gave my competitive self a mental boost. More than anything though, I tried to internalize that this was it…we were almost done. It felt like teamwork to a certain extent; all of us grinding it out, trying to make our respective teams proud.

So, this happy feeling lasted for a while, and my team passed by exclaiming they were going to the finish line because I was going too fast (sorry…). Around mile 4, though, shit got real.

I knew we were gradually climbing, and everyone seemed to be slowing, but at one point I looked up, and saw the most horrifying sight any runner in my position could face: the steepest, un-shaded hill I’d seen all weekend—without any end in sight. I almost laughed out loud at the sight of it, but…like the rest of the race, I had no choice but to keep moving forward. When I first saw it, I briefly thought that this would be the first time I would need to walk during the whole race, but somehow…the higher I climbed, the more resolved I was that I would keep running. I’d come this far, and ultimately it would be better to get up and over it than to let it defeat me. I was passing people the whole time, and by the good graces of runners—there were several teams along the way cheering on every runner. It was awesome, and despite how bad it hurt and how much bargaining with myself I had to do, I somehow made it up without walking once.

After that, it was all a party. I had about 2.5 miles to kick it into gear (whichever gear I had left, that is) and finish strong. There was a nice gradual downhill for a while, which I used to pass people, reclaim some energy, and get excited for the finish.

Seeing the “One Mile to Go” marker was a huge boost, and I am certain I had a smile on my face throughout that whole last mile.

Approaching the finish was one of the most memorable moments of the weekend, if not throughout my running career. Teams were lining the sidewalk, cheering, making tunnels, and generally just showing so much run love to every runner coming through.

I was elated, and as soon as I saw my team every feeling of fatigue was immediately wiped away and replaced with pride and joy. They all jumped in with me so we could cross the finish line together, and it was incredible to hear our team name accompanied by “Ultra” over the loud speaker. We’d done it! 31 hours, 10 minutes, and 59 seconds.

After a little whooping and hollering, we gathered our medals, took some photos, and set of on the long trek back to Seattle. We were ridiculously exhausted, smelly, and drained, but so happy as well. We all kind of basked in the satisfying fatigue of knowing that we’d done something great—even if it hadn’t totally registered yet.

The Blizzards in the ferry line were also one of the best ideas of the weekend/ever.

It was an incredible weekend. After 12 hours of sleep on Saturday night, a nap on Sunday, and two full nights of sleep since, I’m still tired, still sore, and still feeling the general Ragnar hangover. But it was all so worth it, and I feel like I’ve found a whole new appreciation for this sport and the people who do it through this experience.

And that’s a good thing…because I get to do it all again in less than a month 😉

And just in case your curious…I had 34 total “kills” for the weekend, 15 of which were in the final run. C’mon, you had to know I’d keep track.

Thanks Six Pack with Racks! Each and every one of you made my first relay experience one for the books.

If you’re interested in reading the incredible running done by my team, you can read recaps on their blogs (some may still be pending…):

Lauren

Rira

Rebecca

Bethany

Jessey—doesn’t have a blog, but basically she had the longest, hardest legs and kicked ass. Oh, and she’s a 2:54 marathoner, nbd.

Thanks so much ladies, you are all incredible!

After over a year of talking about it, buying a bike and then never riding it, and pretending to come up with a training “plan,” I finally said screw it, signed up, and on a whim participated in my first* triathlon.

Sometimes, instead of planning and planning and getting every detail just right, you just have to put your reservations and excuses aside and just go for it. This is how I approached this triathlon…in a, “You never know until you try” kind of way.

Survey says? A+ experience!

I totally loved this race. I have many thoughts on triathlons overall and the things I did right and the things I did wrong (i.e. barely ever riding a bike beforehand), but that’s all for a later post.

For now, my race report!

Pre-race

After staying out too late on Friday followed by a restless sleep, I woke up both groggy, dehydrated, and out of whack. I realized I had no idea what I was doing, and I could feel my mind turning in on itself and try to resist the unknown. Alas, the show had to go on, and I stuffed my bike and all my gear into my tiny car and headed to the race.

My “I have no idea what I’m doing” fears didn’t subside upon arriving at the race. I felt so out of my element. There were ladies everywhere with awesome bike racks and buckets full of their gear (is this a thing?) and generally everyone seemed to know what they were doing. I felt like a lost puppy. Why can’t I just use a bib and my running shoes???

I racked my bike at one of the few spots left and laid out my transition area, basically just copying the veterans around me.

Finding Lindsay, Becky, and other new friends helped get me excited for the actual race, and I cannot stress enough how helpful it was to be doing this race with other first-timers. After a little time of waiting around watching the Olympic distance start, it was our turn!

Swim

I was so, so thankful that the wave start to this event meant that there would far fewer ladies starting at once than I’d anticipated. The only part of the swim that I was especially nervous for was getting clobbered at the start, but luckily not much of that happened.

Once we were off and separated a bit, I found a good rhythm and felt much more in control than I expected. I spotted every ten strokes or so, and for the most part I stayed right on track with the buoy. My breathing was a little heavy, but I attributed this mainly to adrenaline and tried to stay calm.

After rounding the final turn and coming into the beach, I started to get really excited. 1/3 of the disciplines done! There also weren’t a ton of gals around me, and I thought I’d done pretty well time-wise.

T1

My first transition went smoothly, albeit a little slow. It’s amazing how fast some people go through transition! Mine was a little under two minutes I think, and I just did the best I could.

Bike

So many things to say about the bike. Both good and bad. Of all the legs, I was probably most intimidated about the bike primarily for two reasons:

1) I literally just learned how to clip in. I’d ridden clipped in all of three times before this race, and while I knew it was a little risky to go for it on race day, I knew I’d be much happier in them than not. And after last weekend’s encouraging ride, I felt confident enough. However, the fear was definitely still there.

2) I suck at riding a bike. I never, ever ride my bike. I don’t even really go to spin that often anymore. Since I bought my beautiful new road bike (Daisy) this past spring, I’ve ridden her approximately three times. Two of those times were in the last week. I know, I know..but marathon training trumped bike riding.

Despite these two fears, I was still excited about the bike. It was a beautiful day, and since I wasn’t doing the race very competitively, I just wanted to have fun.

I got clipped in right away and never had any issues with them (huzzah!), and I felt strong and smooth right off the bat. It was pretty exhilarating to be doing something that I’d thought about for so long but had never pulled the trigger.

I quickly realized, though, that while I may have been a biking newb…most of the women in the race were not. I started getting passed fairly soon into the ride, and continued to hear “On your left” throughout the course. It was humbling, I’ll admit, and although eventually I was able to maintain a good clip and keep up with everyone…it became very obvious just how much the bike can probably make or break a race in this sport.

One of the people who passed me was Lindsay, and holy ish that girl can RIDE. I probably had a two minute lead on her after the swim and not only did she pass me on the bike, it took two miles for me to catch up to her on the run. Inspiring!

T2

As I’m sure you can imagine, I was giddy upon getting to the second transition. Knowing that the run was all that lay between me and the finish line was so encouraging, and I was ready to make up some ground. My transition was really fast also, and although my timing chip malfunctioned and didn’t log my bike, T2, or run time (FAIL), I knew I had a great turnaround.

Run

So that whole thing about how your legs feel weird after riding a bike? So true. Although I had been warned and anticipated it, thanks to my lack of any “brick” workouts and never practicing a transition run, the jello leg feeling was alarming.

I felt like I was moving so slowly and I couldn’t imagine how I would be able to shake off the feeling in time to make up ground for my slower bike. I was sure I was around a 9 minute mile (slow for me) so when I looked at my Garmin and saw a 6:40 pace looking back at me, I was shocked. I guess my legs knew what they were doing better than my brain. Runner intuition!

So I went with it. This was only a 5k, and although it followed the two other disciplines, I intended to capitalize on my running strength.

I started passing people almost right away. I knew about 12 ladies had passed me during the bike, so I thought it would be fun to try and see how many I could reel back in. And yes, I realize how horrific my habitual competitiveness is coming across right now. I can’t help it.

I definitely slowed down a little (a sub 7 pace is probably beyond my capabilities right now), but I kept up as best I could and eventually fell into a rhythm. I felt tired, but my legs were starting to feel more and more normal. Eventually, the only pain I was feeling was residual fatigue from the rest of the race and the tight lungs from running faster than normal.

Passing people was also encouraging, and it was so fun to both root on other people and have others cheer for me as well. Everyone was SO friendly and enthusiastic the entire time, and no offense to my runner brethren…triathletes are hands down so much nicer during races.

Anyway, after the mile 2 marker, I started getting really excited to finish. I felt strong, and I was really pleased that I was able to keep up a ~7 minute pace on the tail end of the race. Actually, I was really happy to see those paces in general, as I’ve been doubting my speed recently.

When I made the turn into the parking lot before finishing the final loop, a guy shouted, “You’re all alone! Finish strong!” so it was nice to know I didn’t need to worry about anyone creeping up behind me in the end.

I had a huge smile  as I rounded the final corner and headed to the finish line, and the announcer definitely noticed as she called out my name in conjunction with a, “She’s got a huge finisher smile on her face!” Cue: more nervous smiling from embarrassment. But it didn’t matter; I crossed the finish line feeling great and totally inspired by the experience. It was one of those finish line crossings that remind you why your train and why you race.

After receiving my medal and meeting up with all the other ladies doing the race, I found out that I’d finished 3rd in my age group on top of everything! The prize was a box of chocolates, which while not exactly something to mount on the wall…it was still exciting.

Like I said earlier, my chip malfunctioned so all I have is my ranking and final time:

Final time: 1:25 Overall: 21 Age Group: 3

This race was a perfect first* triathlon experience, and I’m excited to expand the possibilities of what my sporting future could hold.

A big thanks goes to Becky and Lindsay for helping to push me to do the race and to Dawn for coming all the way down to cheer! Big congrats also to Julie, Kerrie, and all the other great ladies I met who dominated the race! And a final HUGE thanks to Nicole for loaning me her wet suit!

So, when’s the next? 🙂

*Technically speaking, this wasn’t my first tri. Back in high school, I did a sprint tri both individually and as a relay. But, both times were very causal with hardly any care at all for pace, transitions, or any kinds of technicality. I didn’t even exercise regularly at that point in time, so I don’t really count them in my current racing resume.

Race week has finally arrived! And for the first time in my marathon history, I’m actually not freaking out…

…yet.

But truthfully, I feel much calmer than I ever have before the big 26.2. And while I’d like to credit having been through the experience three times before, I think it has more to do with my satisfaction in my training. Sure the experience helps, but more than anything…I’m feeling as if there wasn’t much more I could have done to prepare for this race.

Also, for better or for worse, I’ve had some distractions these past few days which have diverted a lot of my attention from race day. To summarize:

1) I took a certification test yesterday for work, which required a good deal of studying and preparing. Let’s just say that this English major had a lot to learn about the investment industry, and lucky for me—I now understand more of the nuances of my job significantly better. Score! Ongoing education!

2) I’m really busy at work. I know I know…everyone is “so busy at work.” But, the distraction of deadlines has helped divert my energy from focusing solely on pacing and honey stingers.

3) My digestive system isn’t exactly…working. I’m having a pretty awful flare up of the IB disease I have, yes I know…so pretty. It’s not completely debilitating, but it’s certainly not convenient. Thankfully, I was able to get to my new doctor yesterday just in time to get all medicated. This issue hasn’t really affected my running, and I’m 99% sure it won’t impact race day (cross fingers please!). But, it has—once again—consumed a lot of the attention that would otherwise be thinking about finish lines.

But, distractions aside, I still have the end game in mind…and while I might not be the jittery mess that I normally am, my excitement and readiness are starting to feel top notch.

There’s a lot that happens during tapering. A lot of it has to do with muscle repair and glucose absorption, but I like to think that an overall psyche cleanse happens as well.

It’s like the ups and downs of training has left us a little jagged and rough around the edges, and by allowing these days to pass with fewer miles and wear-and-tare, that roughness starts to smooth out. I’m getting that familiar feeling like I’m floating to the surface of all the good and bad of what’s happened over this training cycle; slowly getting fine-tuned and ready to dive head-first into race day.

I have a race strategy planned, which I’ll write a bit more on later, and I also have a number of goals. I think it’s important to hope for the best but also to remember the nature of the beast: the marathon is an unpredictable and very long race—a lot can happen. Long runs and tempo runs and speed work can all help, but there’s not way to 100% prepare for 26.2 miles of running. So, while I certainly will not be happy if the race goes awry, I can accept that it’s possible.

(Quote me on that if needed, will you?)

So, until Thursday night comes and I need to start packing, solidifying my playlist, and inevitably start to believe my femur is broken, I’ll be narrowing my focus. A lot has been distracting me, but it’s only a matter of time until there’s only one focal point in my line of sight.

I finished my last long run on Saturday (12 miles) with a very real visualization of Hayward field, of the finish line, and of a very particular time on the clock. That’s the image that I’m hoping will continue to stir my excitement, and it’s the image I  hope isn’t too far from being a reality.

Who’s running in Eugene this weekend? Cheering in Eugene?