Five Take Aways from a Long Race

People have been asking me for a race recap of the Across the Years 24 hour race in Phoenix, and I've been dragging my feet in writing it.  I've been through several different incarnations, but the bottom line is--I'm not really feeling it.  I do believe your attitude affects everything in life, and I've had a bad feeling about 2019 for months.  Trying hard not to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, I think I've gone too far the other direction in trying to make things positive that just aren't. 

For example--

1.  I am not longer interested in competitive, goal obsessed people.

The mountains don't judge.  That's why
I spend so much time there.

They always say it's the things in other people that are most like the things you dislike in yourself that drive you crazy.  This has always been true in my relationships.  I've worked for years to relax, enjoy myself, and not worry so much about stupid stuff like did I actually run 8 miles or did I run 7.8? (Yes, I used to be that person running an extra lap around the parking lot to get the .2.  So much eye rolling.)  Getting more involved in the running community here has made me feel pressured to change who I am and how I approach my training.  I feel like I am less than when I don't meet these expectations.  I've already lost running partners to other, faster, people--which tells me relationships I thought were friendships, weren't.  They were acquaintances of convenience--we run the same pace, and you'll keep me company--versus I actually like and appreciate your presence.

We all had state flags on our bibs,
teaching me I do not know any
state flags.

Meeting people at the 24 hour race, I found lots of people who were struggling with exactly the same mental shift I am.  People who used to be fast, or used to be somehow "better" than they are now, who are "settling" for doing a 24 hour race because it's "all they can do anymore".  So many people I talked with talked about the races they used to run, and the times they used to post--rather than appreciating the fact they had been out on a one mile flat loop for four days straight at age 70.  Nobody wanted to talk about the races or runs they'd done lately.  They all felt like they needed to make excuses for themselves hobbling around a track in 27 degree weather after 13 hours of rain like that was somehow an easy thing to be doing.  What is it about the running community that says there is only one way to be talented--and that is to be fast? 

2.  Don't underestimate the pain a perfectly flat course can inflict.

I don't train on flat surfaces because it's mind-numbingly boring.  I'm not sure how many beer-dulled brain cells I called on to come to the conclusion that because the course was flat, I could therefore run further and faster than a typical ultra.  Wrong.  In an ultra, we actually pretty much only run downhill and maybe a few rolling hills.  Even then, we are navigating rocks, roots, gullies, and water--using all different muscles and never really fatiguing any one part of the body in particular.  I've never actually run--continuously--probably longer than a marathon, despite my longer distance finishes. 

So much rain and mud.

I felt great most of my race, though I took a break at mile 27 for ten minutes to try and dry off and add more waterproof layers, and then I took a longer break when it started to pour around mile 40.  I'd jogged continuously the entire time.  After I came back from trying to dry off my sole pair of shoes (because who thought it would be pouring rain in Arizona?) both of my IT bands had locked up, and my left hip flexor refused to move.  I had to do one entire lap around the track physically lifting up my left leg with my hands because I couldn't get the muscles and tendons to work at all. 

*Side note, you know when people start saying things like "You got this" and "Keep it up" (things I hadn't heard at all before this lap)  you know you must really look like shit. :P 

I managed to walk another 13 miles with the company of some interesting folks, but after everyone left post new year's toast, I decided 53 miles was enough for me too.

3.  It's important to know your "why".

Why did I do a 24 hour race?  I don't know.  It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Why did I try for a 100 miler?  I don't know.  It seemed like the next logical thing to do after 50.  Actually, that's not true.  I was feeling crappy about myself, and I wanted to do something amazing to impress other people.  It had nothing to do with impressing myself.

Sadly, one glass of sparkling wine
is not enough motivation.

Never having been much of sprinter, I can't speak to shorter distance running.  But distance running is so much mental.  As I was dragging myself around the track New Year's Day, dialing down my goals from 100 miles (bahahahahaha) to 70 miles to a 100K and eventually to more than 50--you have to know your why.  Berating myself for contemplating going back to my Grandma's nice warm house with a shower instead of walking around for another few hours to get 100K, I asked myself--what am I trying to prove?  Why does it matter if I get 50 miles or 2 miles or 8 billion miles?  Why am I out here?  Is this really how I want to start off 2019?  Not being able to answer any of those questions, I decided to opt for a warm bed and a shower.

My very first ultra in Japan,
and my best time to date.

4.  I can "fake it" to about 50 miles.

50 miles is where it really starts to fall apart for me.  Hardcore.  Like pain, and hunger and vertigo and nausea and all the things unpleasant.  It's a wall I've yet to get past.  I don't have a strategy to do so either.  So I'm happy my A race for this year is a 100K.  That's nice so many other people are in a place they can do 100 miles.  But I"m not going to feel bad about myself because that's not something I'm capable of yet.  Someday.  But not anytime soon.  And that's ok.

5.  I'll be doing more miserable training in the short term to hopefully make my long term goals less miserable.

Not actually running for long distances hurt me (literally) in my 24 hour race.  I was used to mountain terrain, and my body objected vehemently to the repetitive pounding of running the same one mile loop over and over again for hours.  My goal this training block leading up to my summer races is instead of doing back to back mountain days, I will do one long mountain day followed by an 18-25 mile run on flat.  I'm hoping this will make my body more adaptable to all kinds of conditions and terrain, and make my race days less pain and suffering. 

Most of you know I'm in a weird place with running right now, and I have been since my September DNF.  Instead of clearing up some of the things I've been pondering for some time, my 24 hour experience just made me more confused.  But you've got to shake up the cereal box to get to the prize at the bottom, so I'm hoping reflection will bring me to a healthier place overall.

I raced up and down Observation Point, but I stopped
to enjoy the views as well.