Babes in the Woods

Tonight, I went with my good friend Julie, who also coaches XC with me and is an Ironman triathlete and is, like, my only endurance-athlete friend, to Lapham Peak to run with the world-renowned Lapham Peak Trail Runners.  It. Was. Incredible.  Lapham Peak is my home trail, but it was amazing to be out there in the dark, with headlamps, under the stars, out of the city, in the woods.  I'm a bit intimidated by the LPTR runners, and Julie and I couldn't stay long enough to meet much of the group (although those I did meet were of course welcoming and friendly!).  It was just reassuring to see other people who like to run long.  Who think it's fun and not a punishment.  Who are used to playing outside and still consider themselves incredibly lucky blessed when they are able to do so.  It was about 35 degrees out, which felt fantastic, and Julie commented that the hills were less intimidating when you couldn't see to the top.  It was weird - like you didn't feel you were working that hard to get up.  My shin twinged a little bit, but as of now, I'm operating under this mentality: I will see a doctor about a possible stress injury when there is a splintered tibia sticking out of my skin.  BAM.

I'm so looking forward to my next run with the LPTR!

This week so far: 30 minutes of rowing on Monday with two separate sets of tabata intervals, and a rest day yesterday.

Get it, girl.

Stress Fracture? Paranoia? IDK.

Alright.  I may have a stress injury in my left shin.  It has always been a tender spot, I had x-rays a few years ago for the same symptoms, and it's hurting again, but more.  And there's a bump.  Shit.

Today, I did a CrossFit style workout with my peeps - kettle bell squat & swings, sandbag cleans, and burpees, with bear crawls and sprints in between.  It was good, but I don't want my leg to hurt and right now, my leg hurts.  I'm trying to cross-train, but next weekend is a moderate-mileage weekend.  I PRETTY MUCH REFUSE TO STOP RUNNING.  I may regret this later.  You read it here first.

You Think This Story's Over, But It's Ready To Begin

The Kettle Moraine 100 is June 1st and 2nd, 2013.

If I train right, eat right, and work hard, I will be able to run the Kettle 100, hereafter known as Kettle.

If I am able to run Kettle, I will be the luckiest girl in the world.

So, let's do it!

On my way out to my home trails at Lapham Peak State Park, I heard the Beastie Boys' Paul Revere.  It always makes me smile (in fact, the DJ on 102.1 said something like, "You can get punched in the face, and you'll still be happy because Paul Revere's on!" And she's not wrong).  But that line, "You think this story's over but it's ready to begin," really stuck out to me.  I had a rough autumn running season, and I thought for a second I might be done ultrarunning.  NOT SO!  Game on.  The training plan starts today, and I did a nice easy 6 on the trails.  I feel blessed to be able to run the park trails because once the snow falls, they are dedicated for nordic ski use, and I'll have to stay on the Ice Age (which I love, so.)  It was about 50*, the park was packed, and the vibe was good.  Get it, girl.

Rocktober.

Ok.  This is it.  I'm through not feeling like running, through with excuses (Cross country season!  I'm moving!  School just started!)  Someday, like June 2nd and 3rd, this pain will be useful to me.  On the menu for today - 4 miles and ab work.  It's on.

7 days out...

At the moment, according to the 10-day forecast, which I think is highly inaccurate, the weather next Saturday will be PERFECT for running 50 miles.  Fingers and toes crossed, prayers being said...

Last Night I Dreamed

*cue Blues Traveler*

Last night I dreamed about the Ice Age Trail 50.  I'm not great with the specifics, but it was pretty neutral - I was just running, got to an aid station, saw the tackle box my crew will be busting out at aid stations.  There was a scary moment where I didn't see my peeps, felt disoriented, and couldn't find what I needed in said tackle box but mostly everything was ok.

I took that as a sign to drop $140 on registration for the Mountain Masochist Trail Run.

That's a logical conclusion, right?

http://macluskie.com/reports/2010/mmtr2010/index.html

More about MMTR later, but know this: it will be my first "real" trail run.  I don't mean that as an insult to the glacial features of SEWI or the wonderful, challenging, and technical Ice Age National Scenic Trail, which I love with all my heart.  BUT.  MMTR is 50 miles in the Blue Ridge *actual* Mountains, with animals more dangerous than the turkeys and deer that I have seen and ascents more steep than the very sweet sounding kettles and moraines that have been my companions these last few years.  Plus it's my first non-local race.  Should be a game-changer!

Le Taper Rage

So.  The Ice Age Trail 50 is less than two weeks away, and an ultramarathon taper means an ultra-emotional runner.  Allow me to explain.

I first experienced the mini-rollercoaster that is taper before my first marathon.  And I gotta admit - it gets better with each race.  But still, consider the circumstances: you've spent considerable time, effort, and money training for an event.  A marathon - 4 months, maybe?  An ultra - depending on your base mileage before training, we're talking a 6-month prep period.  You've paid an ungodly sum that you don't tell non-running friends about to enter yourself into whichever suffer-fest you picked.  You've mostly stopped drinking and staying out late on Fridays and Saturdays so you can get up before 6 a.m. to run for four or five hours, back to back on Saturdays and Sundays.  You've overcome emotional and physical hurdles, probably shelled out for new shoes at some point, and probably done some things you're not proud of, like rinsing a cut leg in dirty creek water, teaching yourself to pee in the woods like it ain't no thang, and begging the baby Jesus to let you break your ankle so you can justify a 911 call and Flight for Life airlift from whatever remote trail you are on.  You know your body inside and out - what foods will go down well at certain mileages, how a training run will play out if you get exactly 5.43 hours of sleep but avoid dairy before but also wear those socks with the little nubby thread under your left middle toe.  YOU'VE GOT IT ON LOCK.  And then, two or three weeks before the race, you stop.

Enter the taper rage.  Your body needs a break - you have to stop.  And you have to trust that you did it right.  The right mileage, the right core strengthening work, the right nutrition.  You have to go out for 8-mile "long runs" that feel stupid, but you can't tell anyone because you risk sounding condescending  ("...going out for an easy eight tonight...oh, you're training for a 10k?!  That's awesome, good for you!" sounds awful even when you say it in complete sincerity) or crazy.  And you start to worry.

Things to worry about before race day:
-the weather
-getting sick
-the weather
-tripping down stairs
-twisting an ankle while on an easy run
-not sleeping before the race (I lose a lot of sleep over this)
-oversleeping before the race
-wearing the wrong socks
-getting sick
-packing the wrong stuff in a drop bag
-going out too fast
-the weather

It's hard to reign it in, and for the next two weeks, I'll be itching to just get out and run.  Let's do it.  Let's just go out to the trail RIGHT NOW and run 50 just to make sure we're good.

Coming up next: a post detailing the reasons I'm good.  It's going to be ok.  I know what I'm doing and I'm ready.  I just need to remind myself like, every five minutes!

My sisters and I ran part of the course Saturday, the segment just before the finish.  Deep breaths, Kim, deep breaths!