It’s all about the head - Waldo 100km 2016

For several days before Waldo, I was able to picture the course as I thought about the different sections. I was so looking forward to the race – being back home, seeing good friends, and having the chance to lose myself in the woods for several hours. Rather than my normal pre-race nerves, the day before I felt mildly excited, but mostly just happy. My “A” goal was to run 13 hours 30 minutes, “B” was under 16 hours (to get a hat, and qualify for Western States), and “C” was to finish before getting pulled. However, I’ll admit that when I realized that I’m now a masters (i.e. over 40 years old) runner, I got into the idea that I could possibly place as a masters if not as a regular top 3 finisher.

I'm just left of center, 2nd row back in the white shirt and greenish skirt.

 

After a few hours of sleep in the car in the parking lot and a smooth pre-race morning routine, I was once again heading up the first climb to the top of one of the ski runs. I tried to pace myself, but I also didn’t want to get behind too many people – the road was super dry and each footstep sent a cloud of dust in the air. My asthma had flared up a few weeks prior to the race, and I wanted to minimize triggers as much as I could.

The reward for the steep, dusty climb was the next several miles of single track into the Gold Lake aid station. The trail was magical - easy running on soft earth as the sky slowly grew lighter and the sun approached the horizon. I was carrying electrolytes in my Camelback bladder (50 oz) and water in a small hand-held bottle I kept in one of the chest pockets. I’ve never done this before, but it was probably the smartest decision I made the entire race. I was able to wash my gels down with the plain water and douse my head and neck during the warmer parts of the day. I started off with Gu gels; at the Gold Lake aid station, I grabbed a few of the Cliff shot gels they had, refilled my water bottle, and visited the bathroom. I figured several women had passed me, but I wasn’t worried about it – it was a long day, with a lot of miles to go.

I felt good climbing up Mt. Fuji. I ran what I could, and power walked the steeper sections. I focused on using my glutes and hamstrings as I knew my quads would take a beating running the downhills. I caught Kelsie after the Fuji aid station, and we hiked most of the climb together. About ¾ of the way up, I got my first glance at Diamond Peak gleaming in the distance. So pretty! I let out of woop of joy, and finished my climb up. At the top I got a hug from Meghan who told me I was in 2^nd place. ummm….. what? In contrast to a few years ago, I hadn’t been getting updates from the aid stations on where I was placed, so this was definitely a surprise. I wasn’t trying to be up this high. She told me to just keep doing what I was doing. Okay, I could do that. So with another joyful woop, I started the fun run back down the mountain.

I was on my own most of the trail to the Mt Ray aid station – and I’ll admit that I started to feel a bit lonely; but I still enjoyed the soft trail that curved through forests and meadows. Kelsie caught me about a mile before the aid station and we ran in together. She left just  before I did, and I didn’t see her the rest of the day. She ended up placing 2^nd – super happy for her. Pretty soon I caught up to Ken Sinclair, from Bend. Between Mt. Ray and Twins I, Ken and I alternated passing each other and running together. It was nice to have a bit of company.

 

For the last two years, thinking back to the section between the Twins and Charlton Lake aid station has brought back calming and joyful memories. I remembered it as being a delightful, easy run down a gently sloping trail. I’d forgotten that there was about a mile uphill before getting to the downhill part, and it felt much harder than I thought it should. Then, starting the downhill, I had a hard time getting into a rhythm. I kept trying to quiet my monkey mind . “Of course my legs hurt a bit and I’m a bit nauseous; I’ve been running hard for almost 30 miles; I’ve run through worse for longer, I’ll be okay.” “I’m in 3^rd place now, and I’m pretty sure I’m 1^st masters – could I hold my place this time?” "Do I really care if I place high this time?”. …and so on… Unfortunately, the distraction in my head was enough to keep me from paying appropriate attention to the trail. I don’t even know how I tripped, but something caught me as I was going pretty fast down hill, and I landed hard, with my head getting the worst of it. I’m not sure what I landed on, but after my calves stopped their painful cramping and I was able to turn over and into a sitting position, I reached up to wipe the moisture from my forehead, and realized that not only did I have a big goose egg on my left temple, but I was also bleeding a bit. I was grateful to Liz for stopping to check on me. I eventually pushed myself up and started slowly trotting down the trail.

In about a mile, I came to Charlton Lake and I was so grateful to see some friends from Corvallis, starting with Mel who ran me into the aid station. Like all the other aid stations, I felt like I was in a Formula One pit stop – my pack was taken off my shoulders and whisked away to be refilled; a girl suddenly showed up in front of me holding my drop bag open for me to grab what I wanted. I told her thanks, but I didn’t’ need anything, which was a definite mistake. I should have grabbed the gels I had stashed in there. (The Cliff shots are a lot thicker, and I was having an increasingly hard time swallowing them. At the time I thought I’d have a problem swallowing any gels, but several miles later when I tried a Gu I’d stuffed down my pack, I realized I could still get those down reasonably well.) Most importantly, my friend, Dennis was at Charlton – he asked me how I was, and when I said okay, except that everyone kept asking me how I was doing (while choking back a few tears), Dennis made me sit down, then brought over water so I could wash off the dirt and grime. The medic came over, and with no symptoms of a concussion, Dennis’s statement that the following section wasn’t hard, just warm, and my assurance that if I started feeling nauseous or dizzy, I’d walk to the aid station and stop, I was allowed to continue on to 4290.

View from the top of Maiden Peak - taken in 2010.

Between Charlton and 4290 was where my head really became an issue. Not because of hitting it, but because I was no longer in my happy running place. All I could think about was being tired, sore, and nauseous, and worrying about the huge lump on my head. Heading up to twins 2, I obsessed about not being able to run more of the climb. I hadn’t been able to eat much, so I worried about how getting behind in calories would affect me.

Thankfully, Twin 2 had popsicles. After a couple cups of Sprite and Pringles, I started back down the trail, running as fast as a could while eating my push-pop. Sooooo good, and definitely a bit of a boost for the mood. I actually felt pretty good heading up to the Maiden Peak aid station, which also had popsicles. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much that could make the climb to the summit of Maiden Peak any easier. So steep.

Done!

I was happy to see another familiar face on the summit – and thankful for a hug from Hannah. I stopped to take in the view – so pretty! I somewhat reluctantly headed back down the trail. After cautiously negotiating the steep and rocky Leap of Faith trail, I made it to the Maiden Lake aid station. The hot pierogi actually tasted pretty good, so after eating one of those and downing a few cups of soda, I left the aid station, reminding myself that I only had 7 miles left to go. However, instead of feeling happy, I started crying. I let myself walk and cry a bit, then reminded myself that the faster I ran, the quicker I’d be done. Not speedy, but I had some decent sections of running. …and 14 hours and 25 minutes after I started, I got my hug and new beanie from Meghan as I crossed the finish line.

While I’d moved back to 9^th woman, I actually still managed to “podium” – coming in as the 2^nd Masters woman. First time I’ve won something in an ultra!

Getting my award from the Queen! (the beanie hid my head-lump)

Huge thanks to the race organizers (Meghan and Craig) and all of the volunteers. I was so well taken care of all day – best aid stations of any race I’ve ever done, for sure. I’m also grateful for the care I received from the race medics – both at Charlton and at the end, where I had an asthma attack. They were professional and caring, but also not overly conservative in their approach. I’m once again grateful to Meghan for her thoughtful coaching and support, my parents for letting me borrow their car and feeding me well over the weekend, and everyone who has continued to support and encourage me in this crazy running thing. 

Stats:
34th of 121 starters; 9th of 21 women who finished.
2nd place masters (over 40) woman

#ageisjustanumber

I signed up for Quad Rock 25 miler on a bit of a whim, but it ended up being a run with a purpose when I realized that 25 miles is equivalent to 40 km. 40km just a few days before my 40th birthday? Perfect. Even better, the Front Range was draped with a thick fog all morning long, resulting in a drippy, drizzly, foggy cold. In other words, it reminded me of the Pacific Northwest. Even better.

I fully planned on this just being a training run. Really. I know most people say that as an excuse for a less than great race, but I was just coming off of Boston, my foot is still at only 90% or so, and I just started putting in regular runs up/down mountains this season in the last few weeks - I really had no expectations. I barely tapered the week before, and wasn't nearly as careful with food, etc. as I would normally be for a race. Admittedly, this is also partially because in my head, while 26 miles on the road is long, 25 miles on the trail is short.

The knee looks worse that it was.

Just before the start, a woman graciously gave me a pair of hand-warmers -- oh, so happy for the hand-warmers, especially since my options were to either pull my arm-sleeves over my hands, and have them completely fall down my arms (despite the fact they are designed with hand-mitts, they are frightfully short), or have them pulled up enough to cover my arms, but leave my hands (which are super cold sensitive) exposed. "Gear issues" was actually the theme of the day. My running skirt kept threatening to fall down, too. Luckily I was able to use one of the safety pins from my race number to pin the waste band so it was tighter.

The course runs all through the meadows and open forests of Horestooth Mountain Park and Lory State Park just outside of Fort Collins. I happily was able to run many of the ups, and was able to get good speed on the downs and flats. ....and 'happily' is the truth. For the first time in a long time, running hard simply felt good. Admittedly, I did fall once, but that was when I was distracted talking to someone (and also crowded to the side of the trail).

...and when "Let it Go" from Frozen started playing as I left the 2nd to last aid station to start a blissful downhill section? You better believe it that I was signing along.

I finished in 5:06, good enough for 16th woman (of 95) and 80th overall (of 230 finishers). The best part is I feel like I've gotten my trail mojo back. Gnar Runners in Fort Collins put on a great race, and a great barbecue despite the cold and damp conditions. I huge thank-you goes out to all the volunteers who had to stand out in the cold and wet (I was at least generating some body heat to help me stay warm). And, of course, Meghan set me up really well with a great training plan to transition from Boston to Quad Rock.

...but this post is about more than just Quad Rock, because Quad Rock was just birthday run #1. On Friday, my actual birthday, I took the day off from work for what I labeled as "Andrea's fun long run day" on my training plan.

Near the beginning of the Lumpy Ridge loop

As I headed out of Louisville, I treated myself to a "king egg" from Moxie Bakery in Louisville (seriously worth a stop if you are in the area). Picture this: a large muffin cup lined with croissant dough, which is then filled with an egg and a few veggies, and all of that is then covered with cheese, so that when it comes out of the wood fired oven, you get crispy, buttery crust surrounding gooey dough, a perfectly hard cooked egg, and all of that topped with crusty, melty, cheesy, goodness. Serious yumminess. I savored the king egg as I drove up the canyon to the Lumpy Ridge Trailhead just outside of Estes Park - and it ended up holding me through my entire, 3 hour run.

Bridal Veil falls

Gem Lake

Happy runner girl #ageisjustanumber

The Lumpy Ridge area is part of Rocky Mountain National Park, although you don't actually go through one of the park entrances. Ross and I ran this loop last summer when the wildflowers were in full bloom. This time, the aspen were just starting to leaf out at the trailhead and were still bare at the higher elevations along the loop, but it was still spectacular. Magnificent views of snow covered peaks. Relatively smooth trail. Creeks and waterfalls. My legs were still a bit tired from pushing myself at Quad rock, and I was sucking wind a bit as it was my first run of the season above 8000 feet, but the over-whelming feeling was of joy and gratitude. I am so grateful that I am in a place in my life that I can take a day off to just play in the mountains and that I have a body that let's me do so.

So turning 40? Sure, there are some basic biological facts that can't be ignored; but who said 40 is over the hill?!?! #ageisjustanumber

Boston 2016

For most of last year, I suffered through a pretty bad case of plantar fasciitis. While I was able to run a decent time at Javelina, I also had to skip two races I’d already signed up for, and my training runs became just that – training to get me to the start and finish line, and not the mind-clearing, joyful hours in the woods and mountains that I generally rely on for a sense of mental clarity and emotional stability.

While my Physical Therapists (Scott and Michael) had done a great job of keeping me (and the foot) in one piece to get through the 100, I knew I needed something different if I was going to actually fix what was wrong. Scott recommended I see another PT in town who was more of a foot specialist –so in November, I found myself in the office of Sandy Bertrand.Sandy was more thorough measuring and examining my foot specifically and lower body in general than any of the podiatrists I’d ever seen. Her main conclusions were that an inherent inflexibility in my left first metatarsal (i.e. big toe) was causing my foot to not pronate properly. She thought this was something that would be easy to fix by modifying over-the-counter orthotics. She also suggested I would benefit from a small (few millimeter) lift in my left shoe. I’ve known for awhile that I had a greater-than-average leg length discrepancy, but Scott thought it was best to adjust the pelvis, etc. to fix the issues. Sandy thought that given my normal training volume, a lift would be better.

I really appreciate Sandy’s approach to orthotics. First, by modifying (grinding down the bottom, hard surfaces) over-the-counter orthotics, the cost was a lot lower than custom orthotics. Second, she doesn’t make overly stiff orthotics, so there is still a lot of natural foot motion. I first started running in my new orthotics and lift in December. It took a few runs to adjust to them, but things began to feel better pretty quickly. No miraculous, 100% improvement, but better.

My next step was to see if there was anything else I could do to speed up the healing. Massage, AStym, and dry-needling helped to loosen the tight connecting muscles, but I knew I had some deep damage that needed fixing. I emailed Scott and he recommended I try class IV laser therapy with Sandy. I did some Google searches, and while it was hard to find peer-reviewed research that wasn’t sponsored by the manufacturers, I at least didn’t find anything suggesting it was a hoax.

In the mean-time, Coach Meghan worked with me to try to start building my training back up while not aggravating my foot. I started off with running just 3 days a week (including a long run), swimming or biking 3 days a week, and 1 rest day. As the treatments continued (and started to taper off) as my foot started to improve, I was able to increase the number of days that I ran and the length and intensity of my runs.

That said, it was still a hard winter and early spring of training. The foothill and mountain trails had snow and ice on them for much of the winter, and since my foot was really sensitive to twists and uneven surfaces, and I didn’t want to stress it too much running with spikes, I stuck to the paved and gravel trails near Louisville. While I acknowledge that I am super lucky to have the extent of paved and gravel trails around me that I do, I don’t find them quite as inspiring and got pretty bored of my regular routes. On top of that, work has been extraordinarily stressful the last several months. Most work days, I felt like my energy was just generally zapped, and by Friday, it was extremely difficult to get out of bed early for one of my longer weekday runs. While I was able to get in my speedwork, my pace was generally 10 seconds per mile slower than it was last year. And the two “fast finish” long runs that Meghan scheduled? I ended up wanting to rip my Garmin off my wrist and stomp it to pieces when it wouldn’t stop notifying me that I needed to speed up despite the fact that I was running as hard as I could.

All of that is a long-winded explanation for why I had no goal for Boston this year, which I didn’t really think about until I sat down at my computer the afternoon before the race to send an email to my parents to let them know when they could expect the automatic updates from when I crossed different check points during the race. Last year, I set a marathon PR – 3:27. So, I told them that if I was having a really good day, I hoped to finish in 3 hours and 30 minutes. I then told myself that my more realistic, average-day goal would be 3:40; still a Boston qualifier, and so far, I’ve only had 2 other marathons under that time. My final goal would simply be to finish and have fun.

But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. Because the real drama of the weekend was just getting to Boston. A big spring snowstorm was forecast to roll into the Denver/Boulder area Friday night. The models varied widely, but coalesced near the middle of the week on a forecast for rain Friday turning to snow early Saturday morning, then snowing through the weekend. My flight was on United at 8:30am Saturday, so I thought I’d be fine. It seemed like the ‘meat’ of the storm would be coming later Saturday and the roads and runways would still be warm from the previous days, so I figured snow wouldn’t start sticking until closer to noon on Saturday. I had some moments of doubt Friday morning, but Ross and a few of my coworkers reassured me that I should be fine. Then, just like that, just as soon as I decided I’d be fine, I got a notification from United that they cancelled my 8:30 flight and rescheduled me for a 12:30 flight. That didn’t fit my logic model at all. After spending 10 minutes on hold, I found myself talking to a United rep who was trying very hard to help me find an alternate flight – after going through a few options, he mumbled to himself that they were all cancelled. I asked him to clarify – by ‘all’ did he also mean the 12:30 flight that I had not yet received notification of being cancelled? He checked – and yes, that flight was also cancelled. I somewhat desperately exclaimed that I had to get to Boston. He rescheduled me for an American Airlines flight that was schedule to leave at 5:30am Saturday, then would connect in Chicago. …and no, there were no more flights available Friday night.

Hangin' with Abby - Abigail Adams, that is - at the Boston Women's Memorial. This was 2 days before the 50th annivesary of women running Boston ('illegally') - it would be another 6 years before women would officially be allowed in the race.

Saturday morning, I got up at 2am, then drove to the airport in a mix of heavy, wet snow, rain, and sleet. I later found out that the ticket counters were already busy with people trying to find any flight out of Denver, that they would figure out the connections later, but I cruised through an empty security line and found myself waiting with the other passengers of the AA flight bound for Chicago – many of whom were also rerouted Boston runners. As our boarding time approached, they announced that they were waiting for paperwork so they could board the plane. Our boarding time came and went – and we were still waiting. We finally boarded about 15 minutes after we’d been scheduled to leave. We then had to sit on the tarmac for 30-45 minutes while they deiced the plane. The hour long buffer we had between flights evaporated. On the flight, I tracked our progress vs. the departure time of our connecting flight – we were scheduled to land at 10:08a; our connecting flight was scheduled to leave at 10:05a. The flight crew said it was unlikely they would hold the flight for us, but that “we would be rebooked”. The few seats on the next few flights disappeared, and the only other options would be to rebook myself on flights leaving 9pm or later. I decided to take my chances that they would hold the flight. About 15 minutes before we landed, my app refreshed and showed that our connecting flight was delayed 15 minutes. Woohoo! We landed and after what seemed like the longest taxi that could be allowed while still calling the terminals part of the same airport (seriously – the plane drove on a bridge that went over a several-lane road/highway), I found myself guiding a blind runner from Colorado Springs through the terminal to our connecting gate (luckily only a few gates away). The other 20-30 Boston runners, friends, and family soon joined us and we were on our way. I usually don’t fly American Airlines, but I became a bit of a fan on Saturday.

With Martha and Ranae.

My pre-race time in Boston was pretty mellow. I managed to not only get out for a 4 mile run along the St. Charles, but also pick up my race stuff and some food on Saturday before happily passing out in the comfy Back Bay apartment I reserved through AirBnB. Sunday was mellow – a short run and lunch Martha, another Meghan coachee, and her friend, Ranae. Unfortunately, I didn’t pass out so peacefully Sunday night – instead laid awake for a few hours until I took ½ a dose of a Z-quil. I figured I had several hours in the morning before my race for any lingering grogginess to wear off.

One of the benefits of experience is that it can help calm the nerves. The buses, drive to Hopkinton, and wait in the athletes’ village were familiar. The morning was warm, and I enjoyed sitting against the schoolyard fence, watching the crowds and randomly chatting with those around me. Soon enough, it was time for my wave to line up. Last year, I was almost overwhelmed by my emotions; this year, I was just happy and grateful to be able to participate in this event again this year.

The start at Hopkinton.

Unlike last year, when I felt like I was held back by the pack for the first few miles, this year, I felt like the pack’s pace was actually about the pace I should be running. For the most part, I was able to position myself in the middle third of the road and not have to dodge and run around others very much – except for at the aid stations, that is. Last year, I barely used the aid stations, relying on a handheld water bottle. I had a handheld again this year, but it was hot this year; at least it was hotter than I’ve run for several months. At each aid station for the first 10 or 13 miles, I’d first have a few gulps of aid station Gatorade, then grab a cup of water, take a gulp then dump the rest over my head. I was grateful for the slight breeze that helped with the cooling. I drank a bit from my hand-held between aid stations and at the few aid stations that I skipped – either because I didn’t want to fight to get to the tables (it was almost a full-contact sport at times), or I just didn’t feel like taking the time. Luckily it got cooler as we got closer to Boston.

Pushing hard at the last mile.

Although it wasn’t quite as emotional of a run for me as last year, it was still an amazing, inspirational experience. The crowds were even thicker this year. The parking lot of the biker bar at mile 2 was packed – with bikers (the Harley kind) blasting hard 80s rock. It was actually the first of 4 times that I heard Poison being blasted along the course. The Wesley girls did not disappoint; I considered pausing to kiss the girl holding the “kiss me I’m from Oregon sign”, but to be honest, I was already struggling a bit to stay on pace and didn’t want to lose focus. I generally stayed on 3:30 pace for the first 17 miles (with the exception of the mile where I stopped for a brief Porta-Potty break), but started to slow down from there. Last year, the Newton hills felt refreshing – a nice break for my over-taxed quads. This year, I just felt the effort. I picked up the pace on the downhills, but didn’t have the leg turnover to really take advantage of them. On the positive side, I never felt like I was bonking; I just didn’t have the stamina to keep up the pace for that long. It was even a struggle to pick up the pace for the last 3 miles that were met by increasingly thick – and loud – crowds. But I did try … and I still loved it. Every minute of it.  …and I still feel so privileged to have been a part of the race – and the facts that it is so old (120 years), and so hard to get in are only a part of that. I once again was inspired by all of the alter-abled runners that I passed – 4 blade runners, a little person, a blind runner, and team Hoyt – and those were just the ones that I saw; I know there were many others out there facing challenges much greater than me. So my foot hurt and my life has been a bit stressful? I am still lucky enough to be out there running and having 26.2 miles of strangers – as well as my coworkers, friends, and family – cheering me on.

3:39:12 – I’m sure I looked like a hot mess those last few blocks, elbows flying high as I struggled to get in under 3:40, but I did it. 3^rd fastest marathon time for me and not only is it another Boston Qualifying time, it’s qualifies me by over 5 minutes (and thus a higher chance of getting in) since I’m entering a new age bracket this year.

 

At Fenway Park for the Boston post-race party.

Javelina jundred

I’ll be honest – I wasn’t actually that interested in running a 100 miler. I like the idea of running all day (and maybe part of the night) in a beautiful place, then going to bed and getting a good night's sleep. I am not a fast enough runner that I could do that with a 100 miler. However, I got caught up in the Western States magic and so found myself signing up for Javelina Jundred as my qualifier for this year.

I had grand plans for running this summer – using my long runs as a way to explore new areas of the Colorado high country, running a new 100km in the Never Summer range of Colorado, then going back to Run Rabbit Run 50 miler. All of those had to be jettisoned as I tried to recover from a bad case of plantar fasciitis (from what I can tell, caused by running too many miles in 0-drop shoes too quickly after making the switch). While I still got in some fun long runs in the mountains, a month before Javelina, I switched to flatter trails that wouldn’t put as much strain on my foot and traded out half of my runs for road bike rides. This helped with the foot, but meant that I was coming into Javelina a bit compromised – I felt like my foot was at about 92% and, similarly, my training for distance was good, but sub-optimal. Not how I wanted to approach my first 100 miler.

Chollas - or jumping cacti - are the bright green, fuzzy looking plants to the left.

I flew into Phoenix Thursday night, giving me a chance to have a relaxed day before the race. Friday morning, I headed to “Jeadquarters” (the start/finish line for the 15 mile loop, and where they had tents set up for those camping overnight) and went for an easy 2 mile run on the course. It had rained the night before, and the smell of the desert was amazing. While I’ll always be a tree-hugger, I found myself really enjoying the beauty of the desert – the stately saguaros, the chollas and ocotillos that seemed to glow in the sun.

I passed the rest of the day checking in, picking up some food for lunch and dinner, and generally trying to relax. My pre-race nerves kicked up a bit so I let myself get a beer – but I limited myself to a Coors-light – that barely counts as beer, right?

I was in bed at 8pm, but it was another hour or so until I finally fell asleep. I slept fitfully until about 2:45am, then got up… earlier than I’d planned, but at least I wouldn’t be in a rush getting to the start line. I got to the parking lot around 4:15 and got on the first shuttle that would take us to Jeadquarters as coyotes howled in the distance.

The next 1 ½ hours went by fairly quickly, and soon enough 500+ people were lined up at the start, waiting for the count-down. At 6am we were off, heading down the trail I’d spend the next almost-24 hours on.

Loop 1, 2:42:30

This had to have been taken early - I still look fresh!

This race is run on the 15 mile Pemberton Trail at Fountain Hills Regional Park east of Phoenix. The trail is relatively flat – only 600 feet of elevation gain each loop – but this is also part of what makes it a hard race. It seems pretty runnable, and people have a tendency to go out too fast and blow up later on. I had this in my mind so positioned myself about ½ way though the pack and tried to settle in to a nice easy trot. I walked hills that felt relatively flat, and tried to just settle in and enjoy the experience. I was eating every 30 minutes – focusing on real food (potatoes dipped in salt, oreos – okay, not normally defined as real food, but at least not a gel, potato chips and avocado, peanut butter and jelly sandwich triangles). I had a cup of ginger-ale at each aid station, and intentionally stayed away from the coke, wanting to hold off on caffeine until the evening when I knew I’d need the boost. These first 15 miles went by fairly fast. I was aware of my foot, but the pain wasn’t too bad. I had a brief flare-up of pain on my inner-left ankle (an issue I’ve had the last month or so), but was able to get that to calm down with a bit of massage.  Back at Jeadquarters, I stopped by my drop bag and grabbed a bag of Skratch drink mix to top off my pack, took an Aleve, grabbed some more food, then headed out on Loop 2.

Loop 2, 3 hours for the loop, 5:42:32 cumulative

Cheesy trail selfie

We ran loop 2 in the opposite 

direction as loop 1. Halfway on my way up to Jackass Junction (the aid station at the top of the hill, 1/2-way through the loop) I stopped to take a selfie – I was having fun! I was still feeling good and consciously telling myself to slow down. The most technical part of the trail was now on the downhill coming off of Jackass Junction, making the downhill a little less enjoyable as I focused on staying upright. It wasn’t too bad this early in the race, but I made a mental note to be careful in the evening when I was more tired.

Loop 3, 3:49 for the loop, 9:31 cumulative

Loop 3 was in the hottest part of the day for me. We were lucky this year – the high temperature was in the low/mid-80s (in previous years, it has been much hotter). It still felt warm, though, and I was careful to manage my temperature - at the aid stations, I made sure to put ice in my sports bra, under my cap, and in the bandanna around my neck. Once the bandanna dried out, I tucked it under my cap to keep the sun off my ears and neck. Over-all, I was still feeling pretty good – running well on the flats and a good slow trot/fast walk up the hills. Surprisingly, I wasn’t getting too bored with the course, and didn’t yet feel the need to pull out my music, though I did randomly start singing Janis Joplin’s greatest hits about a mile before I got to Jackass Junction. Unfortunately, this was the loop were issues that would stay with me the rest of the race popped up. I started to feel blisters building  around my toenails. I thought back to Waldo 2014 and just running through the same issue – but I had many more miles to go this time, and in hindsight, wish I’d dealt with them earlier. I also started to feel mildly nauseous on this loop and it got harder and harder to stuff food down when my alarm went off. Despite the fairly enjoyable downhill trail, my mood heading to Jeadquarters from Jackass started to also head downhill. It probably would have continued that way if it weren’t for Chad Palmer who drug two coolers of frozen OtterPops onto the course. I gratefully took a stick of frozen lime yumminess and soon enough found myself back at Jeadquarters. I also heard (all in my head, of course), my friend Gabby asking me, "Leona, are you smiling?" ... which of course made me smile. Those little things helped so much.

Loop 4, 3:14 for the loop, 12:45:55 cumulative

I knew there was a good chance that I wouldn’t finish the 4^th loop before it got dark, so I grabbed my arm-warmers and headlamp while at Jeadquarters. I knew I should be enjoying myself – it was starting to cool off and the sky had a soft, almost pastel hue – but I was tired. And nauseous. And my feet hurt. I put in my earphones to listen to some music and distract myself a bit. It helped a bit, but I still wasn’t feeling great, then heading out of the Jackass Junction aid station, I kicked a rock and the pain from the impact on the now horrid blisters took my breath away. A man came up behind me and started chatting about how this race was kicking his ass – how about me? We chatted a bit, then I stopped to stretch out my quads – that actually helped how my legs felt quite a bit. But over-all, this was were things switched to mostly feeling good and having moments of struggle to things mostly feeling like a struggle with moments of feeling good. More than once I though of an email my friend Amanda had sent me a few days before. I’m sure I muttered, “just keep swimming” out loud more than once.

Loop 5, 4:49 for the loop; 17:04:23 cumulative

This loop’s time looks horrible – but I estimate that 30 minutes of that was spent in the first aid station. I had intended to have a quick in and out this time, not wanting to get sucked into the ability to call it quits and still get a 100km finishers buckle. However, I knew that if I was going to have any chance of finishing 100 miles, I had to deal with my toes. I grabbed a fresh pair of socks from my dropbag and limped over to first aid. The toes were about as bad as I’d thought, with two on my left foot and one on my right (including the big toes on both feet) in bad shape. The medic drained and taped them as I tried (mostly unsuccessfully) to eat some pizza. By the time she was done, I was shivering from being cold, so I headed back to my dropbag for a long-sleeve shirt, and some food to eat on the trail.

I felt miserable heading out of Jeadquarters. I turned off airplane mode (which I’d had my phone on to preserve batteries) and called Ross. I whined and he listened, and I felt a little better. Then I looked at the text messages my friend Tracey had been sending me through the day, which gave me another little boost. I texted her back, whining a bit, and she text back some more encouraging words. I was a bit embarrassed to be using my phone on the trail, but those communications felt like a lifeline. With that boost, I started running again up towards Jackass.

I regretted the long-sleeve shirt almost immediately after I started running – much too hot. Sigh.

About ½ mile after the first aid station in this direction, I came across a man screaming in pain – he’d gotten too close to a cholla and now had a chunk of cactus stuck in his leg. The woman he was with was about to try to pull it out with her hand when I got there. I told her to not touch it, but use two rocks as tongs. She tried, but was being much too gentle. I grabbed a stick, a rock, told the guy it was going to hurt and ripped the cactus off his leg. Unfortunately, I got a few spines in my left hand in the process. Now it was his turn to extract the cactus from me (he had better fingernails than I do). I declined the offer of this first aid kit from his companion and headed up the trail. I’m pretty sure the boost of energy I now had was from the endorphins of the cactus-encounter.

It was somewhere along this loop that I heard the coyotes howling for the first time that night. A giant orange moon had risen above the mountains a little bit earlier. I stopped, raised my head, and joined them in the chorus. Happy.

Luckily for my calorie-intake, the aid stations started serving soup and broth in the evening hours. My new routine was a cup of soup, a cup of ginger-ale, and a cup of coke at the aid stations. Since I was having a hard time eating, I was also trying to drink well from my Camelback since I had calories in there, too. While  this worked pretty well for keeping my calories up, it made for frequent stops in the porta-potties (I wasn't about to go off-trail and risk a worse cactus encounter than I'd already had) – and I started wondering if I was going to do damage to my kidneys or bladder (many tired hours alone made for more than enough time for obsessive worrying).

Loop 6, 3:19 for the loop, 21:23:05 cumulative

Coming into the race, I had planned on the following goals:

A: 20 hours (which I figured was unrealistic given my level of training coming into the race)

B: 24 hours

C: finish

I was using my foot pod to keep track of distance vs. using the GPS on my Garmin, since I wanted to preserve the batteries longer, knowing I’d need the reminder to keep fueling. Unfortunately, the foot pod was overestimating the distance traveled, and so wasn’t giving me an accurate pace. However, coming towards the end of my 5^th loop, it seemed like a 24 hour finish was still possible. I tried to focus on getting through the aid station quickly, stopping at my drop bag just long enough to change into a short-sleeve shirt and armwarmers, grab my hand-held flashlight (knowing my headlamp batteries wouldn’t last long enough), get some gels and shot-blocks, and take another Aleve to help settle some knee pain.

The loop started off pretty good – I felt much better now that I was cooler, and surprisingly, the shot blocks were tasting pretty good. It actually felt good to run (slowly) up most of the hill to Jackass Junction.  Leaving Jackass Junction, I told myself that this was the last time I was through here – but it wasn’t enough to keep my mood up. I just plain felt tired. I started thinking there was no way I was going to beat 24 hours and almost slowed down … but luckily, still had enough stubborness left to tell myself that I still had to try. The headphones went back in, and I picked up the pace as much as possible heading downhill. I started seeing the runners heading towards me wearing their glow-necklaces that indicated they were on their last lap. It helped knowing that I was about to get one, too.

Loop 7

I tried to get in and out of Jeadquarters as fast as I could. I was so happy to get my blue glow-necklace. A few more gels from my drop bag and I was back on the trail. I wasn’t able to eat the whole gel at once, but took ‘sips’ off of them every 10 minutes or so. I also scaled back on how much I was drinking out of my CamelBak as I was sick and tired of always having to pee. I don’t know if any of this was good for me or not, but it worked. I had turned off my music and was enjoying the peaceful quite of the evening and my mind was quieter than it had been in a long while - just focused on moving as fast as I could through these last several miles. I was able to jog up the hill to the turn-off onto the Tonto Trail, and was looking forward to running the nice downhill back to Jeadquarters. Nope. Legs wouldn’t have it. I could power-walk faster than I could run. So I power-walked. I thought back more than once pacing and crewing Meghan at Western States, and running the last 1 ½ miles from Robbie Point to the track with her. I definitely have a new level of understanding for how she felt then.

The last mile was a bit of a blur - left turn off of the Tonto Trail back onto Pemberton, cross the road, then enter the shoot of pop-up tents. At first, I was a little surprised to not see many people out – but of course they weren’t – any smart person was asleep!

...then there I was, making the final turns around the drop-bag area and crossing the timing mat, and I was done, with a finishing time of 23:38:52.  I was handed my big belt buckle for finishing in 24 hours, I put my hands on my knees, and cried. 

The postmortem

I definitely learned a ton - about myself (both mentally and physically), about this crazy running thing, during this experience. I am so grateful to have had the support of my friends and family - their confidence in my abilities boosted my own confidence. I am also extremely grateful for Scott and Michael at Alta Physical Therapy and Adam at Get Rolfing at helping me get through my injuries this year. ...and last, but certainly not least, my friend and coach, the Queen herself, Meghan Arbogast - I don't know if I'd have ever tried a 100 miler if it hadn't been for being a part of her crew, and her coaching and encouragement definitely helped me get across that finishing line.

What worked

·         Taking Immodium just prior to the start: I’ve had issues with runners trots on every other race longer than 40 miles. While I had to make a few pit stops late at night, things never got too … uncomfortable.

·          Squirrels Nut Butter: I have had really bad chafing in the past, and expected it to be really bad during this race due to extra salt-build up given the heat. I used Squirrel’s Nut Butter everywhere I expected friction and reapplied under the sports bra once in the afternoon. I very happily had very few issues with chafing – a first! Huge thanks to Chris Thornley for turning me onto the stuff.

My new CamelBak Circuit Hydration Vest - fit like a glove, no bounce, held what I needed it to, and 50 oz. was the perfect amount of fluid to carry for each loop.

Skratch-labs drink powder. I refilled with this every time I got back to Jeadquarters, except the last when I was trying to get in/out as fast of possible. It's not too sweet, and I never got tired of it.

I felt like I managed my salt intake well ... I started taking S-caps once every hour when things started heating up, then a few more in the evening hours.

 

What still needs tweaking

My feet!!!! Different pair of shoes for this race (Salomon Speedcross) than I wore during Waldo in 2014 (Scott Kinabalu), but I still tore up my toes. Do I need to go up a 1/2 - 1 size? Wish it weren't so expensive to experiment with new brands/styles.

A Western States Story

Last weekend, I once again had the pleasure and privilege of crewing and pacing for my friend,

Serving in the Queen's pit crew with Kelsie Clausen

Meghan Arboghast, at Western States 100. There are so many reasons why I love being a part of this race - having the opportunity to run in the beautiful northern Sierras, seeing good friends, feeling like I'm helping others, and ... possibly more than anything else, witnessing the amazing stories of human strength, courage, and commitment that play out over the 30 hours of the race.

Over the past few weeks, I've attempted to share with my non-running friends what this weekend means to me - and each time, I've felt like I came up a bit short. On that note, I wanted to write about one particular story that unfolded last weekend. By now, it has become a well known story - even making it onto NPR, but I enjoyed writing this down the day after the race and hope that at least one person out there enjoys reading this.

At 70 years-old, Gunhild Swason was attempting to become the oldest woman to finish Western States 100 (the oldest 100 mile race). She'd run this race in the past, and has run other ultra-marathons, so she is certainly in shape. However, Western States is not an easy 100 and this weekend's race was particularly difficult - the high heat (90s-100s during the day) and lack of shade along much of the course due to fires in the past few yews combined with uncharacteristic humidity resulted in much slower times and a very high "DNF" (Did not finish) rate (over 30%).

By 10am Sunday, Gunhild had yet to cross the finish line. At 11am (30 hours after the start), all racers would be pulled from the course and given a DNF, *no matter how close to the finish line they are*. At 10:43, they announced over the loudspeaker than Gunhild had just passed the last check-point, 1.2 miles from the finish. While 1.2 mi doesn't seem that long, after running for 98 miles, even the elite runners are diminished to a shuffle; it took the fastest woman a little over 15 minutes this year to run that distance; Gunhild now had only 17 minutes.

Everyone anxiously awaited - almost everyone involved with the race gathers to encourage and cheer on the runners finishing in that final hour, which is referred to as the "Golden Hour". The finish line is 3/4 of the way around the Placer High School track - the runners come through a gate in the fence, and run (usually with their crew and pacers) around the track to the finish. 

At about 10:58, Gunhild came through that gate, escorted by her crew, pacer, and friend, Robb Krar, who had earlier won first place in near course-record setting pace. She still had to run almost 1/4 of a mile to finish. The stadium exploded. Almost everyone got to their feet to cheer her on (which is saying something considering many of them had just finished running 100 miles themselves). There wasn't one person in that stadium who was not cheering for her, willing her to cross the finish line before 11am.

....and she did. She finished in 29 hours, 59 minutes, and 54 seconds. 6 second to spare. I don't know of anyone who didn't have tears in their eyes. It was one of the most inspirational things I've ever seen. Not only Gunhild's determination and perseverance, but also the force of a group of individuals - all from different backgrounds, united in caring for and believing in someone else. Even now, I can't think about it without feeling the emotion creep up.

You can see the video of the amazing finish, and read her post-race interview here: http://www.irunfar.com/2015/06/gunhild-swanson-post-2015-western-states-100-interview.html

On a side note ... at the pre-race meeting, when they introduced Gunhild (they make a special introduction of the top men and women - they'd included Gunhild because she was attempting to be the oldest woman to ever finish), the crowd cheered and applauded for her louder than they did for several of the elite women who were anticipated to be in the top 10. When she stepped back into line, she commented to Meghan, "I didn't think they'd care so much".

Fifth year at the Mac

I blame (credit?) Clem. As I caught up with my Corvallis running friends over pizza and beer, after an evening run when I was back in Oregon in December, Clem suggested that I come back for the 20^th anniversary of the MacDonald Forest 50km …and, of course, then spend the next day, Mother’s Day, with my mom. 

Really, I could blame (credit?) Clem with this little running addiction in the first place. Clem is the founder of the MacDonald Forest 50km. The reason I ran my first trail race in 1997 was that one of my friends’ mothers was training for the Mac and wanted company on training runs and races. The second trail race I ever ran was the 15km that used to be run on the same day as the 50km. That was in 1998. I've been hooked since.

The Mac is hard. 8000’ of elevation gain over 31 miles. I’ve always struggled a bit at the race, even though the trails are my ‘home’ trails. Yet I love this race. The woods are beautiful, the support is great, and the ‘competitors’ are friends. So, really, all I needed was an excuse to sign up.

The only problem is, this year, the Mac fell less than 3 week after the Boston Marathon. While the soreness in my legs had faded, I could tell the week before the Mac that my legs still hadn’t fully recovered. Just no ‘oomph’. Add to that, while I did a few mountain runs over the past few months, most of my miles were on flat to rolling trails and road, with more focus on speed work than climbs and descents. I kept telling myself that I should think of the Mac more as a fun, hard training run, than a race.

Of course, stepping up to the starting line of any race, it’s hard to not also set some challenging goals. I decided that my “A” goal would be breaking 6 hours (my fasted time is 6:03), “B” would be 6:30 (my slowest Mac was 6:33), and “C” would be to just cross the finish line still wanting to run in the future.

Fringe-cup (Tellima grandiflora)

Race morning I fell into what felt like an hold, comfortable routine. Arrive early to get a decent parking spot and cheer on the early starters. Catch up with friends, and simply just soak in the smell and feel of the forest. The race started as it has for years, A short stretch along the road, followed by a the Callaway Creek Trail then the first big climb up Powderhouse Trail. My legs felt okay, but I could tell my body wasn’t fully there … it seemed harder to keep my breathing under control (and I’m used to running at 5200’ and higher!) and while not tired, but legs didn’t feel springy, like they would after a normal taper. But I was distracted enough by my surroundings. Tall Douglas-fir creating dappled light on the forest floor, wildflowers all around – fringe-cup, iris, bleeding hearts, camas, and the singing of birds overhead. My joy of being in the woods I call home increased even more when we turned onto the Old-growth trail. I will always be in awe of the the giants along this trail.

After we crossed Lewisburg Saddle, my mental-map of the race course was no longer accurate. Instead of heading down Alpha, we headed down Horse trail, then back up Dan’s. I usually prefer to run down Dan’s and up Horse, but I was still feeling pretty good and it was fun to have a different route. 

Linda caught up to me at the top of Dimple Hill. We chatted a bit about the ‘new’ course and she said that she just had to get to the the bottom of Extendo and could then fall apart. I thought that seemed reasonable – Extendo was the 3^rd of 4 aid stations, and only one big climb left after that. Problem was, heading up Dan’s, I got the first sense for how my legs would handle the climbs later. They didn’t hurt, these just didn’t have much to give. At that point, I essentially decided that I was done trying to meet my A goal and wanted to just keep having fun on the trails.

From Dimple, we started the section referred to, quite accurately, as the maze. Despite hundreds of runs through the maze, I still don’t have all of the trails and intersections memorized; and it turns out that I've usually run the trails in the opposite direction than we were running them during the race. That, combined with the fact that my body was increasingly telling me that it really wasn’t recovered from Boston, and time seemed to suddenly slow to a turtle’s pace (or, really, my running pace slowed to a turtle’s pace). Without the mud, my time in the maze should have been relatively fast, but it seemed to take forever to make it to the top of Extendo.

Usually I love running down Extendo, a soft, sinuous dirt trail, with swooping switchbacks and a relatively gentle grade. Instead, getting down Extendo felt like a feat of will and determination. I increasingly felt nauseous and was on the verge of tears most of the way down. To be honest, I

thought more than once if I should call it a day at the aid station. While I had to admit that fatigue probably played a role, I was pretty sure that most of the crappy-feeling was from being over-heated. I had been really good about eating a gel every 45 minutes, and didn’t really feel like I was bonking. I was hydrating relatively well despite the heat, drinking both from my pack and having a few cups of coke and water at the previous aid stations. I’d been taking an S-cap every hour, and my body had previously done really well with the Skratch formula that I had in my pack, so I didn’t think that it was just an electrolyte imbalance. However, this was the hottest run I’d had since last summer; my body definitely wasn’t used to the heat, which was obvious from my swollen sausage fingers.  Ugh. No good.

Running through the larkspurs

The one bright spot on this section was running through a massive patch of larkspurs, reaching nearly to my shoulders, right before getting to the aid station. Once I finally got to the aid station, I dumped a few cups of water over my head, which alone helped relieve some of the nausea. Then, one of the aid station helpers asked me if I wanted some ice – I thought of pacing Meghan at Western States and without hesitation said yes, and dumped one cup down my sports bra and a second down my running skirt. I’m sure it looked strange, but the relief was amazing. I grabbed a few s-caps, drank some coke and a cup of water, and ate a few potatoes dipped in salt.  I spent way more time in the aid station than I wanted, and certainly wasn’t 100%, but all thoughts of quitting had finally left my brain.

Although the ‘race’ had gone out of me, I was still enjoying myself. In the miles between Extendo aid and getting back to the Saddle, I tried to focus my thoughts on the beauty of the trees, the wildflowers that were in abundance, and how lucky I was to be out there.

Once at the saddle, there were only 6 miles to go. I was able to pick up the pace heading up the road, but once we turned onto Chimney trail, my pace slowed to what felt like a plodding hike. The trail was appropriately named given the heat streaming down. Ugh. It felt like it took forever to get to the top. Once I did, a few mountain bikers told me ‘only 3 more miles’ to the finish. Normally that distance would feel so short. Normally.

Managed to run across the finish line

I managed to get my pace to sub-9 minute miles until we made our final turn to Section 36 trail. My legs had nothing left in them for going uphill, and I again slowed to a plod. I tried to channel memories of pushing myself at Boston and Waldo once we headed downhill, but that ended when I caught a foot, luckily managed to catch myself, but in the process slammed my toes into the front of my shoes so hard that the pain nearly brought me to tears.  So I slowly jogged into the finish.

6:31:14. Surprisingly, not my slowest Mac. Definitely not my fastest, but considering the conditions (my body, the heat, and what I think is a harder course than my previous finishes), I don’t feel too bad about it.  As usual, the post-race festivities were wonderful – with runners, their friends, and families stretched out on the lawn, listening to live music, and cheering on the finishers.

I was happy enough with the opportunity to spend time in the woods I consider a second home, catch up with good friends, and earn my 20^th Anniversary jacket – but then the next day, realized that this was actually my 5^th running of the Mac (not the 4^th like I’d thought).  I finally earned my mug!!!

Many Many thanks to Ken and Dennis for continuing Clem’s tradition and putting on one of the best races I’ve ever experienced; thanks to Maistro for brewing another fabulous MacAle; thanks to Meghan for coaching; and a special thanks to Clem for starting it all.

Recovery:  Wine tasting with mom on Mother's Day

My magical unicorn day

I ran my first marathon 15 years ago (1999 San Diego Rock-N-Roll, 4 hr 14 min). I cried as I crossed the finish line and have since been hooked on this crazy long-distance running thing. I've also wanted to run Boston since then. I've been close several times, but it wasn't until the 2013 Denver Rock-N-Roll Marathon that I set a PR and got my first Boston Qualifier. A bit surprisingly, I made it in through the lottery, so this winter, I set my sights on training to have a good, fast Boston Marathon.

The training was going pretty well until February, when my 'normal' aches and pains turned into persistent, throbbing pain in my right hip. When a few weeks of primarily cross-training didn't take care of things, I headed into the Physical Therapist. I feel like I lucked out with my PT (Scott at Alta Physical Therapy if any Boulderites are looking for a recommendation  =). Turns out I was over-striding - something I'm not able to do when running on the trails, but is easy to do when running on the roads. What I had started to do (somewhat unintentionally) to be more 'efficient' was actually now putting me at risk of not being prepared for one of my 'bucket list' items. Thanks to Scott's treatments and analysis and Meghan's great coaching, I ended up getting back to marathon training pretty quickly (with a new, improved sense of what form is best for me). My volume didn't get as high as it has before some previous marathons, but I got in some quality long runs and speed work and felt like I was reasonably prepared for race day.

With Brad (wearing his press jacket from covering the race last year)

Physically, at least. Mentally, I was a bit of a mess. I fully admit I tend to get a bit anxious before races - especially ones that are important to me. Normally this starts a day or so before a race. This time, it started over a week before the race. I started obsessing over all sorts of little details - I was seriously annoying myself with it. Luckily, my travel to Boston was smooth this last Saturday - smooth enough that I got to my hotel early enough to run to the Expo, pick up my number, buy a few things, and get cleaned up before meeting up with my Missoula Friends, Marc and Anne for dinner.

Coach Meghan's Boston girls - with Martha Staples.

Sunday I took it easy - met up with a friend with whom I'd grown up and his girlfriend, then had dinner with another woman that Meghan is coaching. Those things alone made for a great weekend - getting to see some good, old friends that I hadn't seen in a long time and meeting some new ones. But, really, I wouldn't have been here to see them in the first place if it hadn't been for the marathon. 


Boston starts mid-morning, so for once I didn't have to worry about needing to wake up super early to eat enough calories before the start.  I was up early anyway, and had plenty of time to drink my tea, get dressed, and watch the latest weather forecast. They were calling for a cold, rainy day - though the worst of it wasn't supposed to hit until after 1 in the afternoon.

The morning went by as if in a dream. My hotel provided a free shuttle to the Boston Common where we loaded buses that drove us up to the staging area in Hopkington. On one level, it felt like just another pre-race morning, trying to focus on getting in the right amount of calories and fluids, and finding the shortest line for the porta-potties. On another, you couldn't escape that this was something BIG - from the huge number of runners in the staging area to the ever-present police (including armed cops on top of the buildings). 

Soon enough, they called for my wave to start walking down to our corrals. Tears welled up behind my eyes for the first of many times that day as it hit me that I was about to start what had been a dream for so long. 

Once in my coral, I stripped off the last of my warm layers (to be donated to local charities), and as if on cue, light rain started. 

Then the count down and we were off. Slowly. I was about 1/3 of the way back in a pack of about 7,000 people - and it took quite awhile before I felt like I could run at a comfortable pace. I tried to embrace the slow start and minimize the amount of effort I put into dodging around other people. 

I had printed out a customized pace chart to wear around my wrist and quickly realized that it was going to be a bit useless. Besides generally being a bit off pace, it was nearly impossible to run the recommended pace for the first several miles. That said, I happily had a relatively fast pace that also felt pretty easy. 

The first 5 miles of Boston are downhill, followed by 11 miles of rolling hills and flat terrain. Throughout these first 16 miles, I tried to keep my pace quick, but in control. I focused on keeping my form intact and enjoying the experience. ...and what an experience!  There were people lining the race course almost continuously for the entire 26.2 miles. In the cold, wind, and rain.  Handing out their own food and water. It was amazing. I felt like I was in a gigantic parade - and, in fact, I saw several people holding up signs that said "worst parade ever".  I felt like I was grinning ear-to-ear nearly the entire time (though I'm grimacing in every race photo that was taken that day).

The girls from Wellesley College

Every time I felt my energy start to flag, something new would renew my spirit. As we ran on an overpass over the highway, people in the cars below honked their horns and waved out their car windows. Then as we approached Wellesley College, you could hear the girls screaming for over 1/4 mile away. I didn't see any of them get the requested kisses, but was more than amused by their somewhat inappropriate signs, and gave several of them high-5s. Then there were the alter-able runners who were inspirational just by being out there - including little people and people on crutches who I had no doubt would finish the race; in my hotel room that night, I saw coverage of the woman who lost a leg in the 2012 bombing as she crossed the finish line; and the next morning, the man with muscular dystrophy who crossed the finish line after almost 20 hours.

At mile 16, I started the Newton Hills, which finish with Heartbreak Hill, which crests at about mile 21. The uphill segments were a welcome relief to my fatigued quads. I let out a 'whoop' at the top or Heartbreak and started the final 5 mile, downhill push to the finish.

My quads were screaming at me for those last 5 miles. More than once I thought back to 
Waldo - if I could push it to the finish then, I could push it to the finish now. The crowd support certainly helped. The crowds got thicker and thicker as we got closer and closer to the finish line. Then there it was - the giant Citgo sign at mile 25, and the yelling and screaming was so loud, it was overwhelming. I made the left-hand turn onto Boylston Street and ran as hard as I could down those last, long 3 blocks. 

I crossed the finish line in 3 hours and 27 minutes. A marathon PR (by 10 minutes!), and happily, a qualifying time for next year's Boston Marathon. HUGE thanks to Coach Meghan for helping me get to Boston and for my family and friends for all of the support.

(And if you're wondering about the title of this post, the symbol of the marathon is a unicorn, so it really was a magical unicorn day.)

Nutrition:
Before the race - 1 large scone with peanut butter & honey, tea
Cliff shots or Gu @ 45, 1:30, 2:15, and 2:45
Handheld bottle - 16 oz of Skartch labs green tea and lime

Gear:
Shoes:  Scott T2 Evo
Socks:  the thicker Injiji toe-socks - love these!
running skirt
long-sleeve tech shirt
light weight gloves
Western States visor (thanks, Meghan)

participant

Name	Thorpe, Andrea (USA)
age group	Female 18-39
bib number	19795
State/ Province	CO
team
My Runner

totals

place (M/W)	1936
place (ag)	1562
place (total)	9123
time total (net)	03:27:06
time total (gun)	03:29:18

splits

Split	time of day	time	diff	min/mile	miles/h
5K	11:16:58AM	00:24:45	24:45	07:58	7.53
10K	11:41:57AM	00:49:44	24:59	08:03	7.46
15K	12:05:55PM	01:13:42	23:58	07:43	7.78
20K	12:30:15PM	01:38:02	24:20	07:50	7.67
HALF	12:35:29PM	01:43:16	05:14	07:41	7.81
25K	12:54:33PM	02:02:20	19:04	07:52	7.64
30K	01:19:27PM	02:27:14	24:54	08:01	7.49
35K	01:44:29PM	02:52:16	25:02	08:04	7.45
40K	02:08:50PM	03:16:37	24:21	07:51	7.66
Finish Net	02:19:19PM	03:27:06	10:29	07:42	7.8