Race Report: Conquer the Cove Trail Marathon (Alexis)

Going into this race I knew two things: 1.) I was likely not going to win, not with Dacia Reed on the entrant list and 2.) I had committed to a second run in the afternoon in an attempt to run upwards of 50 miles as my last (extremely) long day before Western States. Knowing these things I was still unsure of whether I was going to 'race' or just 'train' through the marathon as I waited at the start line for the Conquer the Cove Marathon to begin.

Fortunately, I've made many friends in the Mountain Junkies scene and decided to focus on catching up with them rather than the bigger, longer task ahead. Starting out on the road I allowed myself to fall back, maintaining a ten minute pace on asphalt as I watched many of the runners I like to run with pull away. I figured it was important to warm up and that it was a long race, that I could catch up. Reaching the Trough trail I was feeling good but already sweating despite not overly pushing it. I was caught up in a conversation when we came across the first water stop. It was early, I thought the aid stations were two miles apart and so I made the fatal race error to skip this aid station seeing as my bottle was halfway full.

I should have seen that bottle as halfway empty.

Running on, I was sweating and drinking and not long after my bottle was empty and I looked at my watch and we were not even four miles in, I began to grow concerned. Then over the next few miles I began to have little sizzling calf cramps all over my lower legs, they were not debilitating but they were fearsome and I backed off my pace and kept listening for sounds of the next approaching aid station which, to my absolute dismay, turned to be much further out than I had anticipated. I slowed down fearing that if I ran hard it would make me sweat more and become worse off. Clearly I did a poor job of reading the water stop description and paying attention at the first aid station sign, both of which would have prepared me for the distance between aid stations.

I was so thankful when I finally heard the sounds of the aid station but there was still a switchback or two before we finally came upon it. I filled my bottle with water and drank a cup of Gatorade, something that I never do but hoped it would help stop the cramping.

I took a GU, some salt pills and drank up the water but I still continued to experience the little sizzling cramps. I focused on staying steady even if it was slower than I would have liked and was happy to finally be sweating again. At the third aid station I drank two cups of Gatorade and filled my bottle once again. In the Enchanted Forest I had a moment where I thought I was on the wrong trail and slowed a little as I was all alone, I was really considering turning around when I finally caught sight of a runner ahead and decided that at least I wasn't alone anymore even if I was lost. Thankfully, however, I wasn't lost and soon saw a streamer again.

Through this section of the race I kept wavering about whether to just call it a day and just finish or try and pick the pace up. For a few minutes I would decide none of it mattered, just enjoy the day and my surroundings. Other times I would decide that the race was long and I still had a chance of a good day. Then other times I was down on all of it and had to convince myself to keep a steady moving pace. It's too early for this to be your wall, find your will, I would try to encourage. At one point in the down and out I saw Randy and Lauren up ahead and picked up the pace to catch up with them. I was hoping we could help each other along. They were quiet, as was I, and Lauren's stomach was upset, I moved ahead slowly as Randy wished me a good day.

With the poor hydrating choice early on I had forgone any GU schedule and I had the overall feeling that even if I was just 'training through' I wasn't really even doing a good job with this training run. At mile 13 I finally looked at my watch for the first time in a long while, it said 2:07. The race was advertised at being 26.4, I figured I would be lucky to hit under 4:20 at all and I knew that the '1,000 foot climb' was still looming up ahead. I decided to restart a GU schedule of every 40 minutes and run as steady as possible.

I was hoping to find runners up ahead to try and pull me but I was out there alone for miles, I ended up having to go to my iPod for help. I started focusing on mile signs and when the big climb was coming. When I reached the climb I found the first part to be the hardest, the section that is before the aid station, I had to walk and tried to alternate with short bursts of both running and walking. I knew I was walking too much and that if I walked this much of the climb I was destined to run more like 4:30.

Coming into the aid station I took a GU, drank a little more Gatorade and filled my bottle. The awesome volunteers directed me to tubs of cold towels and I washed my face and neck down with one which was amazing. I left the aid station knowing I had to run stronger than I was really feeling like running, I wanted to be done, I knew I'd regret it later if I didn't try and do my best on the hill. I tried to convince myself that if I ran well I might catch someone on the hill. I started running and ran the next mile, but I didn't see another runner. I gave myself a break but in retrospect I have a tendency to just be lazy, I didn't probably need that break. I tried to 'hike' thinking of Western States and the need to be a good hiker, but my watch said over 16 minute pace and I felt strong enough to run so I just went back to running deciding to save practicing hiking for another day. I did take another two short walk breaks but I think the hill was actually easier than I found it last year. I had run slower to get to the climb than last year's race so maybe that plays a part in it but I found it to have more flattish sections than I recalled from the year before. Then finally I saw a female up ahead. Thinking she was the first runner I had seen in miles, I set my sights on her. Then up ahead I saw another figure, I could have sworn their running posture was incredibly familiar. I thought it was my husband Todd.

I picked up the pace but the runner I thought was Todd disappeared on a slightly downhill section, I couldn't decide if this further suggested it was Todd who runs well downhill or if I was possibly just dreaming his presence pulling me ahead. I ran harder to try and find out. The aid station that represents the top of the climb and begins the descent to the finish appeared and I became more certain that the runner ahead was Todd, his form is uniquely his own. I ran harder in the hopes that we could push each other towards the finish. Whenever I come across Todd in a race it is the same way, I offer to help push each other along and he barely speaks to me, just pushes me on ahead. I tried to give him ibuprofen at the aid station but he just told me to chase down the girl who had left the aid station just as we were arriving.

Deciding not to argue I ran on ahead even though he is usually a much better downhill runner than I am. Not long after beginning the decent my stomach started to bother me. I began to slow and then my body told me to find a tree or else. I listened and climbed into the woods watching as Todd passed by. Having no toilet paper I managed the best that I could and climbed out of the woods in the hopes of still chasing them down if my stomach would cooperate. I was a little worried as it was in this section last year that my race literally fell apart with debilitating cramps all the way to the finish line. I had continued to have little sizzling cramps all day and was worried these were a sign of worse to come. I caught back up with Todd who encouraged that I pass him again and chase down the runner ahead. I figured I was fifth at best, knowing Dacia, Courtney and Sarah were still ahead of me and the female runner directly ahead. I caught up with Shelby, ran behind her for a moment, she didn't really seem to want me to pass her, which is completely understandable on downhill technical trail at 20+ miles in to a marathon. But I had found a little bit of that racing competitiveness in myself and thought I would use it while I had it.

Once I was ahead of Shelby I wondered how far ahead Courtney and Sarah were, I decided to pick up the pace in the hopes that I could at least decrease the time between us. I took two more salt pills hoping that would keep cramps at bay. Running along the fireroad I thought I saw Sarah up ahead. I was starting to get a little tired but I held on hoping I could catch Sarah. Over a little hill I caught a runner, a female from the 25k, and wondered if I really had seen Sarah at all. Then coming up to the final aid station I was sure it was Sarah ahead. I stopped at the aid station trying to wolf down a GU and drink a little water before I went out to chase. I was watching Sarah pull ahead and choking on the cup of water and I got excited. Seriously all day had been kind of a bummer and seeing Sarah up ahead made it feel like the race that it was. I had been looking for Sarah and Courtney all day after I had passed Lauren but had decided after the climb there was probably no chance in running either of them down.

I took off on the asphalt and it was a quick minute before I could even see Sarah again. She was running STRONG! I don't know if she had seen me when she was at the aid station but she was burning the road up. I was running hard and loving every second of it. She turned and looked at me and I swear she picked it up even more, I looked down and we were running a 7:10 at over 25 miles into the marathon. I was so thankful that she was there, I knew I wouldn't have pushed like this if she wasn't. Then I had a moment where I questioned chasing her down, but I'll be honest, I thought I might still have a chance of a top 3 finish, I thought I should give it my all if that was still a possibility. Turning on to the trail I got even more excited, I don't know where Sarah trains, but I know where I train and that is mostly on trails, I thought I had a better chance of chasing her down on trails then on roads which are not my strong suit. At the same time I knew we were extremely close to the finish line. She fought hard to the finish, and I passed her less than thirty seconds out from the finish line. I finished in 4:17 with her right behind me. Then I realized we were 5th and 6th female and I kind of felt like a jerk. Todd had to keep reminding me over the evening that it was a race and Sarah wouldn't have hard feelings. I think a little of me felt like I needed that finish but then afterwards it didn't give me any satisfaction.

In the end it was an alright day. I think I made a pivotal error by not filling my bottle up at that first aid station. But between the cramps and stomach trouble I still had a day that wasn't all that bad. Todd and I had made plans to run again that afternoon. After about an hour of socializing with our fellow Mountain Junkies we headed to Lynchburg to finish up our double. I had taken my wet shoes off at the race and had discovered a handful of blisters on my feet, probably from being dehydrated and that made for a painful shoe change as we went back out for more trails.

Other than painful feet the start of the second run went better than I had expected. But then storms moved in on us which was honestly less than fun. And then my stomach went south. Like worse than Hellgate last December. I was stopping every five minutes and running, especially downhill, was murder. I had an awesome, supportive group out there in the rain with me, encouraging me to keep moving no matter how slow. I really wish that I could bring them to Western States with me. I know I would have called the run after the first half hour of stomach trouble. Unfortunately, the stomach trouble plagued me for the entire second run which was over three hours and was definitely short of my 50 mile goal for the day. My highly supportive friends who suffered through many stops and two storms would have gone on but I decided that my legs would easily carry me the extra mileage but that the stomach wasn't really making the suffering through the thunderstorm of any real benefit. I felt confident that I could keep moving physically but that the stomach was through for the day. We still managed about 40 for the day and this way I might be able to run by Tuesday.

This morning I feel fine. Still have a few painful blisters and my back is chaffed uncomfortably but I could run on those today if I had to run. My legs feel pretty good for their effort yesterday. Overall, I'm content and sometimes that's as good as it gets.

-Alexis

Between Valleys and Peaks

Have you ever had the flu or a cold and missed so desperately the ability to breath through your nose? Just hoping to wake up tomorrow and feel good, no headaches or fever? For the past almost two months I have just so severely missed the ability to run comfortably without pain. Dreaming that the next run would be accompanied by relief, result in real enjoyment. Instead, solo runs were spent convincing myself to take another step, yet easy and cautiously. Group runs were spent aching for what others were doing so effortlessly, praying that the tightness would slacken in that weak and angry calf, that some day I would in fact feel good again.

The week before Terrapin I could sense the pain was departing though the leg lacked quite a bit of strength. Then the week after Terrapin I got sick, this along with my new approach on recovery and rest, forced me to take the whole week off with the exception of a slow run with the Wednesday group where everyone was up for a pedestrian's pace.

Saturday, squeezed between Easter egg hunts and family dinner plans, I ran solo at Candler's. The entire run my leg felt good. I kept the run short and ran a recovery pace but it was the first run in six weeks that didn't require a long warm-up or result in muscle cramping or tightness. It was like the world's best gift.

Yesterday, a group met at Candler's. Mike Donahue, one of our original weekly Wednesday night participants, was in town and had arranged a trail run. A large group took off out Panama from the parking lot and before I even realized it and without consideration I was running fast. When the heart began to suggest that the pace was one I wasn't really trained for I offered the compromise that I would only continue that sprightly pace until we reached the camp.

There was a great deal of rapture wound up in this run, in the fact that I was able to run among the friends I've longed to run with over my injury. That I was, in the simplest definition, just running. My legs felt fine, they carried me well. I was grateful for the chance to play in the woods, to play chase, run unfamiliar trails. I knew a mile in that I was having the best run of the past several weeks, but miles later when we began to visit more hilly sections I felt a solid strength that has just been absent from my runs for far too long. I was running hills. Have I told you lately that I love hills? I may not be great at them but they empower me, they force all of my being to compile our strength and work together. There's accomplishment awaiting every hill I run, a certain satisfaction that fuels me, nourishes the desire to feel strong, powerful, healthy.

Running up Peak to Peak my calves were working hard to get me to the top. There was a pain, but it wasn't the crippling, fear drawing kind but rather the kind that suggests weakness being pushed aside to make room for strength to come. For someone who suffers at times from a severe self-confidence deficit there was great reward in feeling simply capable.

I know I must remain cautious, that I could very easily go out and do something stupid and end up all too soon on the injured list once more, but yesterday, I felt like my old self a little. I felt at home.

-Alexis

If you are what you eat, does this make me a Fruit Loop?

Recently a friend referenced my blog while running. They claimed to have enjoyed reading it but requested that I might discuss my diet or share recipes in addition to the race reports and honest rants.   I filed the idea but I was convinced I had little to offer on the subject of nutrition. Last Saturday evening, after Holiday Lake, I reflected on my fueling during the course of the race.  While a somewhat success, I had chosen to eat a GU every forty minutes and stuck to it, I decided I could still use further improving. But more importantly, while consuming a Dominoes' cheese pizza single-handedly that evening, I began to think about fuel and nutrition outside of racing or race day. So here it goes, in an effort to please my reader, I divulge my 'diet' and gain the superlative unhealthiest runner in town.

I am an ovo-lacto vegetarian, have been for nearly seventeen years. This means I do not consume meat, fish, or poultry but that I eat eggs and dairy products. Sounds healthy enough, right? Except that I am a terrible vegetarian. What started as part of a teenage girl's mission to save the world has everything to do with the way I feel about eating meat and has little to nothing to do with being healthy. I crave processed, white foods. Breads, rice, ranch dressing, pizza, while yes every day please. Macaroni and cheese. Gooey cinnamon rolls coupled with an afternoon cup of coffee steeped with commercial creamer is my ideal snack. Two cups of Fruit Loops and a diet coke right before bed. Green plants and colorful fruits, while beautiful, seem as safe from me as the meat I choose not to eat.

You see I started my third lifetime attempt at 'running' just after giving birth to baby number three in September 2009 to join my husband's quest for adventure, which at the time was focused on adventure racing. It was also to lose baby weight without having to drastically change my eating habits, because I love to eat and always felt so restricted when having to 'diet'. And I believe, if memory serves, all prior weight-loss attempts had been met with initial loss followed by eventual overall gain.

In the beginning running a quarter mile was an impressive feat. But as the miles came more easily and the pounds began to drop off I became further committed to running. Running was having an overall effect on me that I found pleasing. To help balance my new running habit I began making my own low-sodium broth and soups, I cut back on sugar and started baking more homemade breads. I ended up gaining my own thirst for adventure and losing sixty pounds.

As the miles continued to increase and the weight kept coming off I started to worry I was losing too much weight. Then I caught strep throat and dropped down, in my mind, below my lowest desired weight. In the weeks that followed I started eating more donuts, more often, I stopped making homemade broth and I went back to my favorite white, overly processed foods. For the last three years, save for being pregnant, I have weighed within a five pound range that I'm comfortable with. However, a quick glance at my 'diet', which consists all too heavily of coffee, diet soda, bagels and banana bread and I know I need a little change.

But you see we're not going to call it dieting or else you will be lose me within hours. No, we're going to have to sell it to this ultra-signup fanatic as part of training. And it can't be too drastic, this Fruit Loop craving competitor is going to need small baby steps in order to commit. So on Sunday, to jumpstart this initiative, I decided I wanted more green in my life, so far this week I've eaten a salad several days, albeit with Ranch Dressing (remember baby steps). I even ate a dozen or so carrots in between. This, consuming more real food, vegetables and fruits, will be challenge number one.

I am hopeful that the improved eating habits that I aim to slowly incorporate will have a positive effect on the way that I feel, but I'll be honest I'm hoping for it to have some greater, far more reaching effects. I am hoping to eat a balanced enough diet that aids in the building of more muscle strength and maybe to help avoid injury, something I feel all too prone to at the moment. Instead of fueling just for the race, I will strive to keep fueling for every day, every run at the forefront of my mind.

Hydration will be the bigger problem for me I imagine. Cherry Coke Zero is my vice. Sometimes I eat just so that I can enjoy the diet soda that accompanies it. Then there's coffee. Coffee over the past several years as I struggled to overcome my dislike for the early morning run has started to challenge the soda pop addiction. I am smart enough to know that water is better for me, but am I smart enough to care? At the moment, it would appear, the answer is no. Last week before Holiday Lake, Chelsie sent me daily reminders to drink water. If she hadn't sent me those texts, I would not likely have drank an ounce before the race. I'm too much of a hedonist I suppose. I encourage my children to drink water, grimace at the thought they might one day like soft drinks. I supply water for my dinner guests and group runs, but allow it to nourish and fulfill my own body, instant and constant battle met. This, introducing my system to water on a more regular basis and not just during and immediately following running, will be challenge number two.

I do not like to blame others, we are for the most part a product of our choices. But the thought remains that we are also a product of our upbringing. I survived high school, quite literally at times I'm afraid, through my consumption of Rice-a-Roni, Fruit Loops and Pepsi. I lived with my father, and while I whole-heartedly believe he did the best he could, he struggled financially and he didn't support my well-meaning move to vegetarianism for several years. The taste for ring-shaped, colorful cereal pieces is ingrained within my poor, unrounded taste buds. This, the shift from a life of processed foods to a more balanced whole food approach, will be challenge number three.

Your taste buds are supposed to tell your brain whether or not to swallow something, aid in the decision of whether or not what you've put in your mouth is 'good'. They are designed to keep us alive and yet they are influenced by your brain and what you've been trained to think is good, healthy or bad. However, my sister has told me and a google search confirmed, that taste buds go through life cycles and die away and thus can be changed throughout your life. I am going to use this insight to help commit to small baby steps for two or three weeks at a time in the hopes that the focus attempts become more permanent, positive habits.

Will I give up diet coke? Not likely. Just being honest. Will I forsake a lifetime addiction to Fruit Loops? Possibly, but ultimately the goal, as I see it, is to drink more water and eat more wholesome foods will continuing to keep the words restricted, diet and forbidden separate from my eating. Besides, I still haven't found the Dunkin Donuts on Liberty's campus...

Am I really just a lost cause?

-Alexis