The Stats:
Miles: Running 2222 (42.7 miles/week), Bike 1720, Swim 61.
Races (18): (1) beer mile, (3) 10Ks, (2) half marathons, (6)
marathons, (2) 50Ks, (1) 100K, (1) 90.5 miler, (1) tri relay 13.1 run, (1)
117.6 mile 2/3 IM tri. (2 virtual races: 5K and 20 miler if you want to make it
20.)
Lowlight: LA Marathon.
Highlight: Chicago
Marathon.
Hardest racing
moment: running down Bolyston in the finals tenths of the Boston Marathon,
knowing I had given it my all, but unsure if I could replicate the opportunity
in 2017.
Proudest racing
moment: getting through the bike at IM Coeur d’Alene, managing the heat,
the hills, the wind, and my foot.
Best salvage:
Finishing Canyons 100K despite bad electrolyte issues between miles 31-48 that
nearly had me passing out.
Best racing decision:
calling the Kettle 90.5 miles and 26 hours in (pretty sure it averted an ER
visit in rural Wisconsin).
Best trip for racing:
Wisconsin.
There
may have been too many lessons learned in 2016. It was the hardest racing year
I’ve had since I started running in 2007. But as with challenging times in
life, there is purpose in the stumbles if you can gain from the experiences. I
aimed too high in 2017. I was aggressive with racing, with my schedule, with my
training plans. And I stumbled as a consequence. And I stumbled some more, and
then, I stumbled even more. But, as the year closes, I feel I’ve regrouped and
that I’m back on track. I’m ready to put the lessons of 2016 to good use as I
run into 2017!
I started
off 2016 with an aggressive plan with an ambitious PR goal for the LA Marathon,
averaging 100K of running in the 12 weeks leading up to the race. I came to
race day overtrained, undertapered, and when the forecast for the race called
for heat, I melted. I melted physically and emotionally, having no compass by
mile 5 when I knew my PR dream was gone. I finished slower than my first
marathon. Two salvages came out of the race though: helping a friend to finish
her first marathon and allowing myself to be vulnerable. Recounting the
emotional abyss that came from the race has probably connected me with more
running friends than any other race ever has.
Openness, honesty, raw emotion- well, they spilled out of me after LA.
And they kept on coming.
I lost
my running mojo after LA, but did manage to regroup by late March. A successful
half gave me the confidence I needed for Boston. I was back in shape, I was
judicious with my training and aggressive with my taper this time. I was primed
heading back to my favorite race for the 4th time. And then the heat
came again. I wasn’t about to repeat LA and I needed the BQ. I ran harder than
I have ever run during a marathon. It was a fine line between getting the BQ
and passing out. Of the 24 marathons I have run, this was my best effort. The
time will never reflect it, but I fought the heat and grabbed my squeaker BQ.
And I knew it was a squeaker at 96 seconds. I would try to get the BQ 13 days
later at Avenue of the Giants, then again at San Francisco 3 months later.
Ultimately, my best effort and my fastest time for 2016 would remain Boston.
Three
weeks post Boston (and for those of you paying attention, 6 days after Avenue
of the Giants), I ran Canyons 100K, easily the toughest course I have run with
15000 ft of climbing over 64 miles. It was a mudfest, which I survived, only to
be taken over by electrolyte issues, as I was unable to tolerate the on-course
beverage. I fought back after an extended death march, revived myself at mile
48, and safely made it to the finish. It wasn’t pretty, it nearly didn’t
happen, but I earned another Western States qualifier. I had also had a “great”
training run for Kettle Moraine 100 miler 4 weeks later. The Kettle proved to be beautiful beyond
belief as I enjoyed nearly every second of our Wisconsin trip. The beauty
though was brought forth no doubt by the humidity, which I survived the first
day. I stumbled into the 100K point and somehow made it back on course despite
feet that were so badly battered that I could only walk through the pain. I
have never reached lower lows than during that race, but I found the emotional
way out to a better head space that allowed me to venture on. Ultimately, my
body gave up after 26 hours, but my will, my heart, they persevered. It would
be my 2nd DNF, but there was no defeat for me that day.
11
weeks after the Kettle, I was on to Ironman Coeur d’Alene. I finally learned
how to climb on my tri bike and became a stronger cyclist with help from my
coach and training and life partner Jim. My running was strong, even with a
respectable SF Marathon 3 weeks prior and higher running mileage than I had
managed for IMAZ. I was consistent with open water swim classes and long swims
on my own; but let’s face it, I still suck as a swimmer! Race day came and with
it another heat forecast; thank you 2016. I grabbed the swim PR. The first bike loop was
manageable. The second tried to break me in every way possible as temps reached
the 90s and 25 mph winds were pushing against me with every long hill climb. I was happy I didn’t get heat stroke and that
I pushed through the conditions and the pain growing in my foot. For all the
moments when I wanted to just quit, I didn’t. I knew then and I know now I am
never repeating the LA syndrome. With the
toughest bike ride of my life finished,I hobbled out to the marathon course. I
couldn’t manage more than a couple of miles before I could no longer bear
weight on my foot. My day would end at 117.6 miles.
I could
not walk and would not exercise for a bit, but managed to regroup for my tri
relay 3 weeks later. That was the best of both worlds: spectating and racing.
Four weeks later I was off to Chicago. I didn’t know what I had in me, but
aimed for the BQ-5 (3:50) for 2018. I somehow pulled it out and would return
from the trip able to walk through the airport and having reached my goal for
the first time in the last three trips. The year ended with fun: pacing my friend in
her first 100 miler in November, pacing my husband for his 2nd
marathon at CIM, and getting back on the trails, with a fun (if slow and
mishap-ridden) 50K.
So,
less is more. It’s too hard to run BQ-pace marathons, run WS-qualifier worthy
ultramarathons, and compete in Ironmans. I mean, I know it’s feasible and I
came pretty close to doing it in 2016 (and I did do it in 2015). But,
ultimately, it’s not necessary. And it’s certainly not recommended to try to
get all three of those goals done (with a bonus 100 miler in the middle) in a
four month timeframe. It’s too much. And the lesson from 2016 is that it’s
enough. It’s enough to have any of those three accomplishments. It’s enough to
actually not have any of them. It’s enough to wake up each day and go out on
your run and enjoy it. It’s enough to run through the forest, run through the
mud, run the trails with friends, run and take photos of all the beauty that
resides there. It’s enough to feel gratitude for what you can do. It’s enough
to have people who will cheer you through your races. It’s enough to have
people who will hold your hand and comfort you when you fall. So, there were no
PRs or grand accomplishments in my racing life in 2016. But, there was a lot of
joy despite the struggles. There were a lot of adventures. There were more
friends made. There was the rush of pushing myself and bettering myself. There
was ultimately a better understanding of myself, an understanding of my limits,
an acceptance of my vulnerabilities. And I know I’ll uncover more as the races and
running days go on. And that’s okay. It’s enough.
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