Ghost Trails

I finished reading Ghost Trails today, written by a woman whose blog I've been reading off and on for a few months (whom I found via another blog I've read off and on for a few years). It's about an ultra-(ultra, ultra-)endurance race, and it made me think about the relationship between endurance and pain and how much pain you should endure in pursuit of endurance feats.

I know I have an above-average pain tolerance; giving birth twice without drugs confirmed that for me. Because of my doomed knee, I always have some measure of pain while running--but it's not bad, and I barely notice it any more. In the last two years, I've had pelvic pain with pretty much every step I take. It's usually bearable, but when it's not, I'm reduced to limping (and cursing) within minutes. I feel like I have good sense of how much discomfort I'm willing to endure, and as long as it doesn't consistently cross that threshold, I'm happy to keep going. In other words, I'm too stubborn to stop. H would nod vigorously in assent. And rolls his eyes. And ask if you, dear reader, could possibly talk some sense into me because he's given up.

I'll admit I'm not very good at distinguishing between "good pain" (pushing your limits) and "bad pain" (hello, stress fracture), between intensity and injury. But as I read about Jill's effort in the 350 Iditasport race, I thought, heck, surely I can manage 50 miles.

6 miles from my parents' house today, on the roads with a foray through the old high school cross-country course--most of which I discovered has been paved over in the last year.

It's hot.

Yes, it's hot today. That's something I never missed about Texas--the obligatory wearing of shorts in December. Huck went outside this morning to jump on the trampoline wearing a t-shirt and a diaper (but I supposed that says more about our general aesthetic than the weather).

I've been surprised by my last two runs. Yesterday morning I was up early to run 5 miles before H left for work, then did another 3 "miles" on the elliptical at the gym (while the kids played joyously in child care--school is out so all the much-admired "big kids" are there). Nothing hurt. Well, nothing except my toe, but that doesn't count. I intended to run early again today, but Helen's midnight escapades left me exhausted and I shoved my iPhone (aka alarm) under the pillow rather than roll out of bed into my running shoes. I did 6 miles on the treadmill at the gym, and--again--nothing really hurt. (Except the toe.) They aren't big runs and they're not going to get me into endurance shape anytime soon, but it's nice to have two consecutive pain-free outings.

This weekend is tricky, running-wise. Everyone will be busy, and I feel bad ducking out for 2 (or 3 or 4) hours. That, and there is really nowhere to run in my hometown--all pavement, no shoulders or sidewalks, and the closest trails are an hour away. If the kids nap, I will likely try to do a couple of 10-12 mile runs in the afternoon. Or maybe I'll just sit on the couch eating buckeyes.

Oh yeah, the toe. It's the big one on my left foot--the one I jammed into a root in Huntsville. The swelling has forced the nail to lift, and there's a nice purple pool of blood underneath. It hurts mildly during the day, but throbs incessantly at night. This, combined with Helen's penchant for late-night theatricals, has left me with very little sleep. Yawn.

Post-50k

I'll just pretend I've been updating this all along and begin in medias res. Last week I ran the Texas Trail Runs 50k at Huntsville State Park. It was fine. I finished, my groin didn't implode, and the toenail I jammed into a fat root at mile fourteen hasn't fallen off yet. I was more concerned about the fate of H and the kids at home than I was about anything related to my own race (they fared well, of course). I had hoped it would feel easier, though. Really, it should have felt easier since it was meant to be a long training run and not a goal race. I finished in 5:58 (which involved much scurrying in the final mile to make sure the clock didn't strike 6:00). That's about average for my 50k efforts so far, but all of those races were on much tougher courses, with actual hills. There was some piteous walking between miles 20 and 25, but I picked it up a lot over the last three miles. I was ready to be finished. I wanted to collect my finisher's hoodie before they ran out of my size, and I could hear the voices of two chatty women not far behind me. Although I was feeling lazy, I wasn't lazy enough to let two women pass me. Guys, sure; I let a few men go by with impunity.

While I was running, I had pretty much made my mind up not to run Rocky Raccoon in February. 50k felt very far; 50 miles seemed impossibly farther. I barely ran in the two weeks preceding the race because of groin pain, which was a pretty sizable hiccup in my training. But now I'm back on the fence. If my pelvic stuff doesn't flare up too much, and I'm able to get in a few more weekend runs, I might be fine. Or not. I don't know. Oddly, I'm finding it harder to get away for runs as the kids get older; I thought it would get easier.

I ran 10 easy miles with a friend this morning on the roads. I should probably run tomorrow, but I'll be busy watching the kids jump themselves silly (during what's supposed to be nap time) at a party at the inflatable place. Maybe Huck will finally exhaust himself into a good night's sleep--but that's a story for another blog.

Finally getting back into a decent running routine after six weeks or so of quasi-resting and trying to deal with the recurring groin issue. It appears to be a psoas problem, and I've had a few ART sessions to "release" the pesky muscles; the therapy seems to have helped, but I still have twinges of pain and discomfort during most of my runs.

I've been doing trail runs at Government Canyon the last few weekends. I managed 15 miles yesterday, which is my longest run since we moved to Texas. Although I'm still not at peace with the rocks (and still pine for dusty fire roads), the trails are beautiful in their own way. I've never been the kind of runner who needs to run with other people, but I do miss my running friends in California--especially since I'm still on the "running moms" email list and can read about their weekly group long runs at Lake Chabot. I should probably unsubscribe for the sake of my sanity. I haven't seen a lot of people on the trails here, and the folks I have seen are pretty fast. Trail running isn't as popular here, and the people who do run trails are quick--not as many middle-of-the-pack runners out battling the cacti and kicking stones.

Not surprisingly, Hoss absolutely loves the trails here. His policy towards rocks is more generous than mine. He's training for the 25k at Bandera in January, although I won't be surprised if he moves up to the 50k. I wrote a training plan for him that includes just three runs a week, which he should be able to do without any major alteration in our family schedule. Right now, I'm thinking I'll do the Texas Trails 50k in December as a preview of the Rocky Raccon trail system. If all goes well and my pelvis doesn't implode, I'll do 50 miles at RR in February. And maybe a marathon or two in the fall. And...

Good stretch

I've had a good stretch of running this week (so far)--in fact, probably the best stretch of running I've had since we moved to TX. Why? Because I've been running on the treadmill at the gym. I'm not ambivalent about the treadmill; my dislike is unilateral. But with husband's current work schedule (which precludes even a 4:30am run) and the difficulty of pushing the kids in the double stroller in the heat, it's the best option. The kids stay in child care at the gym. Getting them to stay involved great histrionics on Helen's part and genuine distress for Huck, but after a month of attempts, they're pretty happy to go.

So, this week I managed 7 on Monday, and 6 miles on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I'll likely go today, too, for another 5-6. A few months ago this would have been a "down" week, but for now, it qualifies as a "good stretch." Ironically, during this week of indoor efforts, I got my new Montrail Sabinos in the mail. Ideally I'll have an opportunity to try them out on the trail this weekend.

Other than just getting in the miles, my other main concern is improving my diet. It needs a lot of improvement. A lot. I'm carrying 5-10 extra pounds, all of which are the result of too much chocolate and junk. I still eat like I'm nursing and running 50 miles a week, even though I'm not doing either. It's hard to eat well during the day when I'm running around with the kids, but I really need to work on it. I had cereal with chocolate cake frosting for breakfast this morning. Ahem. So I guess I'll start... now?

A Tale of Two Surfaces

I tried to run this morning, but was felled (okay, not exactly felled; maybe just really frustrated) by a borderline case of heat exhaustion. I set out from my parents' house at an easy pace and immediately felt... not right. I was hoping for a minimum of 12 miles, but ended up with 8.5 and spent some time sprawled in the front yard cursing the heat, humidity, and general unpleasantness of the atmosphere. When I got up from my self-pitying sprawl, I was light-headed and sick to my stomach; my face felt hot and my skin felt tingly. I had heat exhaustion several times in high school (like the time we raced the 3200 at 5pm when it was 104 degrees), and I knew I was on the verge of being sick. I cooled down inside for a while--thanks very much to presence of my parents, which meant I didn't have to go right into kid-duty after the run. Now, half a day later, I still feel "off." It's going to be a long summer...

I was thinking today (during the aforementioned sprawl) about why my running is so awful right now. I'm doing half as many miles as I was in California, at a slower pace, and still having a hard time. Part of it is the temperature and humidity, I know. And I did admittedly lose fitness during the months preceding the move, when our house was on the market and husband was working on the weekends. But I shouldn't feel this bad, every day. (And, no, I'm not pregnant again.) But I think that these factors are compounded by the fact that I'm running on hard surfaces. In CA, I ran on trails 100% of the time (either dirt roads or singletrack); here, I'm running on hard surfaces 95% of the time. I was relatively free of debilitating injuries for a long stretch of time before we moved, and I always felt sufficiently recovered, even after 20+ miles every weekend in the hills. Here, I'm doing my weekday runs through our neighborhood, in the early morning dark. It's really my only option, for a number of reasons. On the weekend, I try to incorporate a few of the nearby trails, but they only amount to 2-4 miles and are extremely technical--nothing like the rolling dirt paradise of the East Bay Regional Parklands. There are some other trail options in San Antonio, but they require a fair amount of driving for not a lot of trail (Bandera excepted, but that's not a realistic weekend destination for me, especially on my own). I miss the daily soft-surface security of the creek trail, where I could push the stroller for miles on dirt and gravel.

Anyway, I don't think I'm recovering well from one run to the next, and my body isn't happy with the pounding, especially when the pounding occurs at a heat index above 90 (or 100) degrees. I'm sure I'll acclimate. But for now, it's frustrating. I've realized that there's no way I can train this summer for an ultra. Maybe I should just get pregnant and hold out for a long race in the winter of 2011? ;)

Note: The post above makes me sound all doom-and-gloom about Texas. Really, running is the only thing that sucks about our move. Everything else--proximity to parents, nice house in a nice neighborhood, kid-friendliness, husband's career--is firmly in the "pro" column.

Racing for Corn

The kids and I are visiting my parents this weekend (while husband negotiates an insane work project), and--as is my habit--I looked for a nearby race to capitalize on the free babysitting. A quick perusal of the race calendar revealed a 5k associated with a local Corn Festival. Sure, why not. It's in a town even smaller than my hometown, a twenty minute drive down a country highway. I parked on the edge of a field, not far from a tent offering "Pork and Beans BBQ"; oddly enough, their wares actually smelled pretty good to me, even at 7:30 in the morning. I quickly signed up (cheap! only $20, with a shirt!) and ran an easy warm-up while sizing up the competition. I saw quite a few women wearing fancy technical outfits and racing flats, which surprised me. (As usual, I was wearing my dusty Kayano clunkers and a bra top purchased from Target in the pre-baby era.) I've noticed that runners in Texas wear a lot fancier gear than runners in California, even though folks here are, as a whole, substantially slower. Maybe it's because triathlons (notoriously gear-obsessed) are more popular here? Anyway, I figured some of the flat-wearing, shimmel-sporting women would be fast.

I only had time for a mile of warm-up and was already soaking with sweat when I lined up at the start. I'm not exactly acclimated to the heat and humidity here, yet. My expectations were low, especially given the flare up of recurring pelvic/groin pain this week. Not to mention that most of my (relatively meager) mileage recently has been at 9-minute mile pace. I looked at my watch sometime during the first mile and saw 6:55 pace. I knew that was probably too quick for my current fitness, so I tried to loosen up a little. The miles passed by quickly. After several years of running long, slow trail races, 5ks seem to fly by now. It's an odd sensation. I'm so accustomed to the mental game of dividing up the miles in a 50k, that the 5k is almost too fleeting a distance to parse. It was an out-and-back course, so I saw at the turn-around that I was the third woman. Numbers one and two were too far ahead of me to attempt to catch, and I was comfortably in front of four. I decided to cruise in and not exacerbate the growing pain in my groin. My watch said 22:23 at the finish--not good, certainly; but not too bad given my training and the conditions. I used to run 5ks in 20-ish minutes (give or take 30 seconds), so 22 minutes still feels slow. But it also simultaneously feels fast, since I very rarely approach that pace in training anymore.

I placed 3rd OA, and 1st in my age group--not exactly a speedy feat, given the competition. I managed a mile of aimless cool-down before succumbing to the heat and decided to wait (for what turned out to be a long time) for the awards. I got a corn trophy, which I quickly photographed as Facebook fodder for my friends in CA.

Ideally I'd do a long run--or, at least, what constitutes a "long" run for me these days--tomorrow, but I'm not sure about my groin issues. I generally end up running through them and they go away eventually, but maybe a day or two of rest would hurry up the evanescence of pain?