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!

Additions to the gear arsenal!

Saucony Ride 4's (my 3rd pair; wanted to get some before Saucony switches to an 8 mm drop on these shoes) and Zensah calf sleeves.  Modeled post-5-hour trail run on the Ice Age Trail in SEWI!

Good Friday/Finishing Holy Hill

Remember that ill-fated 30-miler?  The one where my dad picked me up because I'd essentially run an ultramarathon by myself and STILL had miles to go before I reached my car?  I don't, because I was mentally decimated by the end, but maybe you do.

The beginning of my lovely trail at Pike Lake State Park.
Except I took this when I got back...it was a little dark when I started.

Well, yesterday, on a beautiful day in the southern Kettle Moraine, I ran that route backwards, finishing the lengthy, hilly, and beautiful Holy Hill segment of the Ice Age National Scenic Trail.  I woke up at 5 a.m. to get out to Pike Lake State Park, then ran out for two hours, turned around, and ran back.  It was glorious - good temps, blue sky, bright sun, and a nice mix of farm, forest, hills, and meadows.

Trail to the right, view to the left...obviously, as a sucker for a view, I turned left.

They were right about that view!  Holy Hill, National Shrine of Mary, Help of Christians.  And PB Berry Blast!

My trail is so badass that there are animal skulls sitting on the trail blazes.  What does your trail have?!

One of my favorite sections: boardwalk over marsh, next to a farm.  The trail comes out next to the farmhouse and you're basically running through these people's front yard.  Not awkward at all.

Post-run at Pike Lake.  It was a challenging 4 hours, but left me with so many endorphins that that LaraBar was the BEST EVER, and my water was the BEST thing I'd EVER drunk, and every song that came on the radio was the BEST song EVER.  Love it!

And as a nice bit of closure in terms of the tough call I made to get picked up after 30 miles...I found out that when my dad rescued me on the road, I was still 8 miles from my finish.  Which means I did the right thing by calling and am officially not a wimp.  Yesssss.

The worst it will ever be.

I went for a little run on Tuesday that should have felt great - it was unseasonably warm, I was wearing a great outfit, and I’d had a few days of rest followed by a 4 miler Monday, so 7.5 after school didn’t seem like a big deal.

Except I ate a really huge Granny Smith apple and some Greek yog and went running ALMOST IMMEDIATELY afterwards.  Dumb.

I’ve trained my stomach up pretty good, but it was just a lot of food to have on board and I felt a little queasy during the run.  Of course, my melodramatic running brain was like, “This is disgusting!  I’ve never felt so sick during a run before!  I HATE feeling sick to my stomach - can I even continue?  Should I walk?”

I didn’t walk, because I need to learn to handle issues on the run, and I also remembered that I have felt much worse than this before; in fact, that I had felt the worst I would ever feel (gastrointestinally) during my first 50-miler, which resulted in an unpleasant and time-consuming stop in the woods.  I could and did handle that; a little apples-and-Greek-yog indiscretion was not going to stop me.  

It reminded me of something my friend Jon told me once after a really crummy run.  I’d done a road 30-miler (for training,  on purpose), and it was hours and hours of pouring rain and cold on the side of busy county roads.  It stopped raining long enough for me to dry off, and then started raining again, then thunderstorming, then hailing.  The day culminated with me cowering under some shrubbery, covering my head with my hands to protect myself from painful hailstones as lightning strikes threw down around me.  It was scary, lonely, and cold.  And Jon said, “At least you know that’s the worst it will ever be.”

There’s something to that.

...but I won't quit, cuz I want more!

Thanks, Young the Giant, for providing the inspiration for today’s title.  Today I ran the 3rd marathon of Marathon March - 2 to go!  Why did I have to pick a month with 5 weekends?  Because it’s alliterative, that’s why.  So I ran a pretty standard road marathon today: 

-4:04:26.  Dece for being sore from lifting yesterday and kind of in recovery mode from last weekend still.

-4 gel stops (Chocolate Raspberry Roctane, Orange Hammer Gel, and 2 PowerBar Green Apple)

-32 oz. of water (must purchase another 20 oz. Amphipod to replace the one I left on the roof of my car along with my precious Outdoor Research mittens as I drove away from Peninsula State Park earlier this winter)

It was a good run in about 45 degree weather, and afterwards I met my sister at Whole Foods where I pretty much ate everything at the salad bar that wasn’t meat, along with some add-ins from the hot bar.  Lest you’re thinking, girl, salad bar?!  rest assured: I had lettuce.  Artichokes.  Lentil and bean salad.  Something with bulgur (What is bulgur??) and cranberries.  Green beans, walnuts, and almonds.  Tuna salad.  Tofu.  Other tofu.  Roasted veggies.  Eggs.  Seeds.  Something with chickpeas.  There was more, trust me.  

Then, a trip to REI to replenish my supply of Peanut Butter GU and of course pick up a Luna Bar for the way home because my goodness, running marathons makes me hungry.  I’m feeling a bit beat-up because it’s been less than a week since I ran my big 3-0, and I lifted three times last week and ran and walked, and so because my body is telling me no (the song, people.  the Young the Giant song), I think that week 4 of MM will be two half marathons, one on Saturday and one Sunday.  Then, I’ll finish with a bang and some company at the Trailbreaker Marathon the last Saturday of March, joined by my distance-running mama, who will be running the half.

Peace out!  Do people still say that?  I just said it.  It felt right.