Wasatch Dreams

It turns out that the Wasatch 100 mile race ends just down the road from my parents' mountain house. No, really, just down the road. From the front window you can look down the hill to the finish line.

If I ever run it, the kids could skip down to the finish and meet me with Dr Pepper and a vat of queso from Tarahumara (gotta love the local Mexican food place, named after the indigenous ultrarunning folks from Copper Canyon).

In the mountains

I'm in Utah this week with the kids, visiting my parents at their mountain house outside of Park City. I've managed to get out for an hour or so everyday during their naptime, running on the snowy Deer Creek trail (with yaktrax) or huffing and puffing up and down the canyon roads. I'm in better shape now than I was when we were here last summer; the runs feel better, and my lungs aren't as much on the verge of implosion as they were before. My training of late has been somewhat consistent, although still a lot less than I was doing in California. Our schedule is just different, the kids are older, and I don't have an endless dirt trail in my back yard. But I'm making do. I had a nice 15-miler at Government Canyon last week at a fast pace, and I've been running to Grey Forest and back lots of weekends, to meet a friend who lives there. I run there, do 8-12 miles with her, then run home. There are some nice rollers on Babcock and Scenic Loop, and I'm not in constant fear of my life--or, er, another torn ACL--like I am in the GC backcountry. Hoss and I had a "date run" there a few weeks ago, and I spent two hours traipsing after him, trying to be date-worthy and stay on my feet. He's a lot faster than I am on the technical stuff. A lot.

I've also started doing a strength routine with Jill at the gym on Wednesdays. And occasionally yoga, too. The kids generally enjoy the child care center there. It's seems like everyone in our neighborhood and half of their preschool cohort goes to our gym, so they have other friends in captivity. I should really go more often and get in some extra miles on the treadmill.

The wind is blowing and I'm procrastinating heading out. I don't want to get blown off the mountain! Edit: the wind just blew in a wall of snow and sent the patio furniture hurdling into a ravine. Sitting on the couch is sounding like a better alternative.

And why doesn't San Antonio have an REI?

I've been complaining about my weight for almost a year now. I got back down to a reasonable (but not quite pre-pregnant) weight a few months after Huck and maintained it until the upheaval of moving cross-country. We now live about a mile from Rudy's BBQ and less than three hours from my mom's cookies. And I'm no longer running with the double stroller for an hour everyday. These things add up, apparently.

Part of the reason I lost the weight quickly post-Huck was a contest with another postpartum running friend. Whoever lost 8% of her body weight first had to buy the other a pair of trail shoes (keep in mind we had baby weight to lose, so 8% was very reasonable). I'm a competitive person, and the weekly weigh-in was enough to motivate me. I won the shoes, and we both looked pretty good--or, at least, as good as you can look wearing spandex running shorts stained with spit-up, wandering aimlessly down the trail in a state of sleep deprivation.

I no longer have sleep deprivation or the recent incubation of a baby to blame for my weight gain. And I've gained a lot. So I called my friend, who is trying to get lean for an assault on her PR at the Ohlone 50k this spring. We're going for 5% weight loss this time around, which will bring me to the middle of my "normal" range. Winner gets a $50 REI gift card. Never mind that San Antonio doesn't have an REI.

An update

So I'm not very good at keeping up with this blog. I update the kid blog almost daily, though. Our extended family gets antsy if a few days pass without evidence of their cuteness. I decided not to run Rocky Raccoon earlier this month. I made up my mind to forgo the race, not because I couldn't finish, but because I didn't want to injure myself in the process of a stubborn death march. I enlisted my friend Jill to make sure I didn't make a mad dash for Huntsville at the last minute. And, of course, I started thinking on Wednesday before the race that it might not be such a bad idea after all... I knew I could run 34 miles and what's one more 16 mile loop after that?, surely I could finish, right? For better or worse, though, on Friday we were hit with a minor snow storm that shut San Antonio down. Things quickly cleared up, but the roads in East Texas still looked a little dicey. I decided it was fate telling me to mind my hips (and my lack of training) and stay home. Sigh.

I think I'll do Prickly Pear 50k next month just for fun. I hope it doesn't rain in the days before the race, since McAllister park in the mud is an unpleasant prospect. Last time I ran there I slid down a slope into the creek; fun stuff. Hoss is running 25k at Nueces, otherwise I'd do the (much more picturesque and hilly) 50k there. Wouldn't it be great if races offered babysitting so both spouses could run? A bounce house near the start with a Goldfish-and-milk aid station...

If I can get in a few longer runs before April, I'll try 50 miles at Hells Hills. The kids go to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I've had to relinquish a lot of those training days recently to field trips or a sick kid. Why do preschoolers need to go on so many field trips? Why do they have to exchange so many germs? I need to get better about waking up at 4 to run dark loops in the subdivision.

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.