Huffing and Puffing: A Race Recap

Dec. 20, 2014.

Standing in a dimly lit tent, my feet ice cold and my fingers numb, I passed out packet after packet to runner after runner. Some nervous, some excited. Some just trying to keep moving.

"Safety pins are in your bag. Shirts at the end of the tent to your right. Race starts at 8. Good luck. Do you have any questions?"

I had said it so many times that morning, volunteering at the table from 6 a.m. to 8 a.m., that I almost started to look for my bib and head to the start line. But a good 20 weeks pregnant, I didn't think it was the best thing to do. Head to the start line, that is, and run a trail event. 10.8 miles for some and a 50K for others.

I knew it was smart but it was challenging to see people line up to do some epic shit. I wanted to be out there, and so I told myself I would in 2015.

Of course, I had a few prerequisites. Mark had to agree, first off. I had to be healthy, as well. And the weather had to be decent.

See, I had done the HUFF 50K once before, as a relay in 2011. AKA the year of epic shit. Knee-deep water crossings, ankle deep mud, frigid temperatures.

The race has gotten a reputation of having unpredictable weather conditions since the 2011 race had thigh-deep standing water and freezing temperatures.  

“They look at that video, which made the reputation of this race as being a tough thing where you could get your bragging rights,” race director Mitch Harper said. “All those people that did that year have their bragging rights. The weather’s great, we have a near-record turnout." {Source}

And that video?

{Read my recap here}

So you can understand my hesitation. But I had been assured that the trails had been modified to prevent such conditions. The weather, too, has been unseasonably warm. I had friends running the race – the 50K and 10.8-mile single loop.

It promised to be an event. One I couldn't resist.

I volunteered again, from 6 to 8 a.m. at packet pickup, and then met up with BRF Tami to run the one loop.

We had decided ahead of the race that we would run together and we would run it for fun. Now, fun wouldn't be a pass to be slackers but neither of us were going to feel pressure to hit a certain time. At least on my end, I was just excited to run with her ... during the day ... somewhere new ... where there were lots of trees and scenic spaces.

And, let me tell you, the race fulfilled all of those things.

Here are the top 5 highlights:

1. Aid stations. Cookies, candy, pretzels, soup, soda. To borrow Tami's sentiments, had I known running could involve so many amazing foods, I might have laced up my shoes earlier. We hit two aid stations and both were stocked with anything you could think of and amazing volunteers. At the first, I opted for Mike & Ike candy and an M&M cookie for the road. I went for gummy bears and pretzels at the second. Sadly, the gummy bears were a bit hard from the cold weather but I managed ;)

Note: Another great thing about the aid stations was that both had bathrooms available. I had to pee at the first, and Tami at the second.

2. All the leaves are brown and the sky is pink. The race time coupled with the time of year meant that we got to see the early sun rise through the bare trees and over the distant fields as we climbed the trails of Chain O Lakes State Park in Albion. There were moments where I would catch myself bemoaning the hills and force myself to look up. Whatever the physical challenge, it was truly the beauty of nature that took my breath away. Another section, tall pines reached for the blue sky and brown needles carpeted the path. I would take a deep breath and catch the trees' aroma. Had there been the faintest dusting of snow, it would have been a picture perfect winter scene.

3. Well if the guys with skinny legs are doing it, so should we. Early on, Tami and I decided that we would walk the big hills. The motivation was three part: Hills suck; we haven't been doing serious hill training since our fall races; and the other people were doing it, too. We usually took turns deciding when we would walk, like an unwritten rule. It was like we would reach other's mind in a way only BRFs could do.

4. Let's stay together. The race got really hard. For me, at least. There were sections when I allowed myself to feel defeated rather than challenged by the course. I hated feeling more weak than bad ass and, on more than one occasion, I urged Tami to go on. But she didn't. Refused. And I'm thankful for it.

5. Do the time. While we were running for fun, I knew that I ran the one-loop in 2011 in 2:09. Given the improved conditions and feeling like I'm in slightly better shape, I had a secret goal of finishing in under two hours. I didn't wear a watch for the race, not having charged it and wanting to reduce the pressure, so I had no idea where we were at. If I were to guess, though, I wouldn't have guessed 2 hours. We walked the hills, we had taken our time at aid stations. Hell, I'm pretty sure I took a solid minute to pee. And I generally felt slow. But as we exited the woods, I was shocked to see that the clock read 1:58. Suddenly, my legs had a little more pep. There was the slightest of kicks. And, maybe, a litany of celebratory curse words.

Mark had joked that it was fitting that I would end my 2015 racing season in December. Even though I've sworn off the 50K, I'm pretty sure that it will end my calendar for 2016, too.

The Power-HUFF girl

Despite some sliver of promise in my early academic career (read: second grade), I am not very good at math. It's probably why the 3-mile run I planned at lunch on Friday became a 4.1-mile journey through the crunchy snow of downtown Fort Wayne.

However, I feel safe making the following declaration: I've thanked hundreds of people along the various race courses I have ran. The people directing traffic, the kind souls passing me water, the neighborhood crews cheering on the crazy or brave. I've been so grateful for the people who have made not just my experiences positive ones but made them possible.

And Saturday, I got my chance to give back. Just a little bit. To be the one whom people thanked.

I volunteered to man the Three Rivers Running Company aid station (aka Cramp Central Station) at this year's HUFF 50K trail race. If you have an amazing memory, you'll remember that I ran this race last year as part of a 3-person relay. It was the most challenging race, mentally and course-wise, that I have ever done. A marathon was hard but trudging through cold, knee-deep water is soul (and sole) shaking. It's an experience like child birth - so traumatic that you forget the pain and want to do it again. I nearly considered keeping up my mileage after the marathon and doing the race until deciding my interests would best be served by volunteering.

My shift was from 2 to 6 p.m. and being the eager beaver (or nervous Nelly) that I am, I showed up about 1:30 p.m. The station was set up about a mile from the finish, and the 50Kers were about 5 hours into the event. There was a pretty crowd going, and I did my best to hand out the what they needed to finish the last bit of the race.

There was water, Gatorade and Coke. Later it became water, Gatorade and root beer. Even later, it was water, Gatorade, root beer and smiles. I'm a charmer, what can I say. (Inside the tent, they had bananas, oranges, Jolly Ranchers and salted potatoes.)

I also did my best to keep spirits high, doing a dance here and there. OK, it was mostly to keep my body temperature warm as it was cold with a capital frigid. My poor toes felt like ice cubes and I had my digits shoved into three fingers of my gloves. As for the runners, they were more enthused to hear there was less than a mile left than seeing my jig. Sad, I know.

Editor's note: For all of you who worry about my mental sanity, there was music going. I was not dancing to the beat in my head.

Not sad: The spirit of these runners. They were so friendly and thankful after running more than 32 miles in the snow, ice and sub-freezing temps. I'm pretty sure I would have been a complete ... um, not nice person. Some were chatty, others not. Some broken down, some strong. For some, it was their first 50K and others were veterans. I saw many a folk wearing Marathon Maniac shirts - one guy estimated he had ran 110 marathons.

Color me astounded. I can barely decide to do a second marathon much less 110. (I did have some encouragement as I got to chat with the race director for the Veterans Marathon - the only 26.2 race that I could do without traveling. Anyone up for it?)

A light snow began to fall as the last of the runners trickled through the aid station. Soft, white flakes danced in the air, catching on my eyelashes and dusting the aid station. I filled a few more cups of Gatorade to feel like I was doing something. Something small for runners who were offering me so much - inspiration, motivation, thanks.

And, maybe, a bit of crazy.

Crazy because I'm already thinking of doing the one-loop fun run next year. And then volunteering.

Heart and sole

 The smell. The look. The anticipation.

There's nothing like a new pair of shoes.

 
Except two new pairs of shoes.

 
Two brightly colored pairs for my two favorite workouts - BODYPUMP and running.

With a new season upon us, it was time again to replace the good ole running shoes. My Nike Zoom Structure Triax have just shy of 400 miles on them, and I can tell. I've felt a bit more achy and had some minor foot pain during runs. It's the kind of feeling when you go, "Oh, shit. I hope I'm not injured," only to look at your training log and realize you haven't bought new shoes since you trashed them in the December HUFF relay.

While I flirt with the idea of going minimal (and regularly salivate over the Nike Frees), the Structures have served me well and I have no desire to mess with something good.  I haven't suffered any kind of pain or trouble while wearing them, and I have been able to do a variety of training with them. They offer a stable ride, decent cushioning and a low profile without being overly heavy.

I prefer to get my shoes from the local running store but I also try to keep an eye on sales when I new shoes will be needed imminently. And an online sale I found. I found the fantastically bright Structures - something I haven't seen - on Zappos for about $15 off. Factoring in they have free shipping, I snapped them up so quickly I looked like Shalane Flanagan.

I haven't worn them yet as I am saving them for June 1 to make it easier, logging wise, but I'm dying. Dying, I tell you, to lace them up.

While my running shoe need wasn't urgent, the necessity of a cross training shoe was. I've been wearing my Vibram Five Fingers to BODYPUMP because they offer more flexibility than my typical trainers (aka retired running shoes). Though the VFF allow me more stability in lunges (because I can flex my foot), they offer no cushion when executing BODYPUMP 81's famous propulsion lunge. At times, my feet felt bruised after class because of the impact.

I did some searching for a good cross training shoe but many of them are for more casual exercisers or generic activities. I was about to get real frustrated but I can across a forum where a reviewer mentioned the Nike Free trainers and using them for Zumba. The shoe offered flexibility, important in Zumba, and  support.

I turned to my best friend, Nike.com, and began looking at the options. They have several training shoes under the Free line but an email about a clearance pair + a discount code had me sold on the Nike Free TR Fit 2. A $90 pair of shoes for $45? Yes. NOW. Especially when they are offensively bright.

I wore the shoes for PUMP on Saturday (had to skip last night because my upper body is crazy sore from gardening), and I was very happy with the shoes. The uppers are soft and flexible, and it felt like I was slipping on a pillow. The shoes were comfortable but flexible, and I had not a single issue performing the propulsion lunge.

Well, with the exception of my own balance and stability. Details, details.

What are your favorite workout shoes? Are you loyal to a specific brand? As you can tell I like Nike. I sometimes feel like I need to wear Brooks or Saucony to be like the cool kids but the truth is, I love Nike. Maybe it's because they were the epitome of cool growing up and we couldn't afford them or it could be because they make great functional, stylish shoes.

Hips don't lie

I listened to the rain spitter spatter as I nursed Miles at 3:30 a.m. Actually, it was more than a spitter and spatter. It was more like a pounding on the windows.

It was the kind of rain that made you glad you were inside - not outside running. But I had promised Denali (and myself) that we would run this morning. Rain or no rain. If I could run through knee-deep water during the HUFF, I could handle a little shower.

I rolled out of bed at 5:35 a.m., a little later than I had planned but still enough time (I hoped) to squeeze in a couple miles before Miles woke up for the day. I got dressed, leashed up Denali and was out the door 15 minutes later. Once outside, we were greeted with quite possibly the most perfect weather. It was a toasty 47 degrees and the sky had stopped. It was a blessing of a December morning.

We started out slow but steady - I wanted to make sure I was tuned in to my body to see how everything felt after running the HUFF. Unlike road races where I usually feel soreness in my calves, hamstrings and/or quads the next day or so, my ankles and hips were what felt the most uncomfortable. I attribute the discomfort to the awkward gait I had to adopt due to the muddy and sloped trails. My ankles felt fine but my right hip felt ... well ... I could feel it. It didn't hurt, and I wouldn't even say that it was uncomfortable. I just knew it was there.

I continued to be mindful as I picked up the pace a bit as we cruised around the neighborhood - you have to run fast to be fast (relatively, of course). I never felt strained nor did I feel as if the "discomfort" became anything greater. In fact, I think the hip started to feel better as if all I needed was a good stretch.

I felt fantastic and rejuvenated as I rounded home just shy of 2.5 miles. I couldn't have asked for a better run, not even at 3:30 as I listened to the rain.

Did you run today? How was it?

This and that: More from the HUFF

It’s been 37 hours since I crossed the finish line of the HUFF 50K relay, and I feel like I am still processing the entire event. Overcoming the mud, the water and my own fears and insecurities seems to have had a lasting effect – something I wasn’t expecting for a race that was not close to my personal distance record.

So bear with me as I share a bit more from the day.

***

I think what made the day so, umm, special was the fact that I got to share it with these amazing women. So often we go to races with our own agenda and our own goals, and we lose out on the camaraderie of running. Taking on the HUFF as a team allowed us to share the good times, the bad times …

And a little nakedness.

When I say these women were amazing, it wasn’t just because they believed in me when I didn’t or that they were out there in the cold and dark rooting for me as if it was noon on a sunny day. No, these women were amazing because they handed me hot chocolate at the finish and helped me undress and redress in the tent. Let me tell you, there’s nothing to bring a group closer than underwear and trying to get on Recovery Socks.

***

If you are appalled that I stripped down in the tent, don’t be. It was pretty common. In fact, one runner stripped down completely – as in L saw his bare bottom – and that was when the tent was crowded. I give him props for keeping his man parts toward the outside of the tent.

***

Mark knows that I’ll do just about anything for a new pair of shoes. He just didn’t know that included running 10.5 miles in pools of water and ankle-deep mud.

I’m not sure if you can tell from the photo but my shoes were trashed after the race. Thankfully, I found the same shoes on sale at Running Warehouse and using Skinny Runner’s discount, got them for less than $60 shipped. Huzzah!

***

I might have developed a strong affection for the course worker who went out of his way to make sure I finished safely but there was one guy who won my heart.

Ringo, a malamute-husky mix, ran the entire 50K with his owner and still had enough energy to socialize. It made me wish (sort of) that I had brought Denali.

***

People like to preach the benefits of chocolate milk as a recovery drink. Pshaw. I have something better.

Cheeseburger Happy Meal with a Diet Coke – now that’s a combination of protein, carbs and fat that I can enjoy.

***

Remember that video I showed you the other day, previewing the course?

Here’s what the course actually looked like:

***

Other blog posts about the race:

Teammate L at My Story Chapter 2

Nurse with a Purse

See Meggie Run.

***

Have you ever had an experience, race or otherwise, stick with you?

Huff 50K relay: A recap

Warning: This is a long one for me. If you don’t feel like reading all of it, don’t.

I could see it – the red stripe on the roof of the white finishers’ tent – in the distance, maybe a half-mile away. It was a sight I had been waiting 10 miles – more like 5 hours actually – to see. I splashed through the final pool of water on the course and did my best to pick myself up and kick it to the finish line.

As I emerged from the woods and headed toward the last stretch along the parking lot, I could hear C shouting my name, the sound breaking miles of silence. I saw L’s red light blinking in the twilight. I dug deep, my legs moving faster than they had all day, and rounded the last corner to the finish line.

My teammates were there to  greet me as I crossed the mats. The sky was dark as we embraced and embraced again, celebrating our journey. It was a difficult one, one I don’t think we thought we’d finish. But we did.

I had arrived at Chain O Lakes State Park 5.5 hours earlier per Victorious Secret’s team plan. L thought she would finish in 3 hours or so, and C would take 2 or so hours to complete the course. We were hoping that I would arrive when C was half-way finished with her loop. I would have time to stretch, go to the bathroom and be off. However, despite my worrying, we had grossly underestimated the condition of the course and I arrived just as L was finishing.

I gave L a big hug and ushered her to the tent to get her warm. We chatted a bit about the race, her telling me that the first 7 miles (of 10.5) were the roughest but not to expect negative splits. As I listened, I saw ultra and relay runners come in battered and bruised, muddy from head to toe. Some of them were even bleeding. I tried not to worry but with each minute C was on the course, my anxiety levels grew.

A best case scenario had C coming in at 2 hours but L was sure she would be closer to 2.5, if not 3. However, I still insisted that we keep an eye out for her. Five minutes passed and then 10. I watched the tree line with hope but I did not see her.

L insisted that I move inside the tent to stay warm as she swore that my lips were turning blue. Inside, I might have felt better physically but emotionally I did not. Fear began to overwhelm me, and I seriously doubted whether I’d be able to complete the course. Everyone assured me that I could and promised that I would get wet, not cold, and that it was totally doable. The more I was told I could do it, the more unsure I became. Two hours and 45 minutes after C started, I called Mark in tears. I didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t think I wanted to do it. He said that no matter what I decided he would support me but he knew that I was not a quitter.

I hung up, put in my ear buds and tried to lose myself in Adele. I headed back out to L and decided that I was going to do this … or at least try.

C finished in about 3 hours and it was my turn. My feet felt like frozen blocks as I began, shuffling – not running – up the road. I fought back tears with each step and prayed that my feet would warm up. I started to focus on the music as the course veered off onto the trail at just over a half-mile in. It seemed like a steep decline, and I had to give up feeling sorry for myself to pay attention to my footing.

I found in the early stretches of the race that it would behoove me to really take my time on the downhills and do what I could on the flat stretches – the few there were – and charge the uphills. The course was very muddy and going too fast downhill was only going to lead to disaster.The course went from muddy to wet within the first two miles, and I soon found myself running in anywhere from ankle-deep to knee-deep water for up to 30 feet at time.

An example of water on the course, courtesy of Three Rivers Running Company 

There were side “trails” made by previous runners to avoid some of the water but I had been warned that it sometimes did more harm than good to avoid the water. The trails were lined with sticker bushes and taking those side trails meant, at minimum, that you would be stuck if you didn’t fall over the brush and limbs.

Despite the trail hazards, I made it to the first aid station – at 3 ish miles – feeling pretty good. So good that I told a course volunteer, who was concerned that I would finish in the dark, that I could finish 7.5 miles in 1:15. He sort of looked at me with knowing concern and warned that there was more water ahead. I blew him off, telling myself that he didn’t know what kind of runner I was, and kept moving. I was doing OK, I thought. I was managing the mud and the water with far more constitution than that girl I had became in the tent. 

Just before the 5-mile sign, the course crossed a road and descended into a different section of trail. What I thought was uncomfortable in the early part of the race became a distant memory as my pace slowed to a walk as I trudged along a path that was more like sewage than trail, with mud ankle deep. The next two miles were a combination of walking sideways to keep from slipping, running on the outer edges of trail, running through water if only to rinse my shoes and making sure that I was following the green flags that marked the trail.

The markers indicated a turn onto a service road about 7.25 miles in, and I made sure to take advantage of the flat, dry surface. I ran. Grateful to be unencumbered by the trail. As I made the move down a dirt road (still dry), approaching the 8-mile marker, a big truck sped past me.

“Who does he think he is, speeding in a park like that?” I thought to myself.

Who he was was the same gentleman who warned me of my chances of finishing in the dark. He was on a mission: removing course markers and making sure that I knew the jogs the course would follow. I stopped for a minute to listen, trying to remember each jog in the trail that he mentioned. Then I waved goodbye and descended back into the woods. Alone.

I tackled the hills and mud with determination, the daylight clock ticking, knowing that I had conquered most of the trail. The toughest parts, according to L, were over.

I weaved around the trail, taking in the sights of the frigid lakes surrounding me. It was beautiful – just as L had promised.

At mile 9 or so, I looked up and saw my kind course worker. He had met me on the trail and ran with me for a half-mile until I made the turn he was so worried that I would miss. All I had to do was follow the path. I couldn’t mess up. The finish would soon be in sight.

Before I could get there, I had to go through one more long, deep section of water. I trudged through without care or concern – unlike the way I approached the water so many times before on the course. In five minutes, I would be finished. And that promise was all I needed.

My Garmin read 2:11:56 when I crossed the mats. It was, hands down, the toughest 2:11:56 I had ever spent running on a course tougher than I ever thought I’d tackle. I wish I could find the words to truly describe the joy and pain I felt during that time but I can’t. Instead, I leave you with this:

You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement. - Steve Prefontaine

Huff'n and a puffin'

Move that body: 5.07-mile run

I'm the kind of girl who likes to go all the way.

Like all the way.

But before your mind gets permanently stuck in the gutter let me clarify that I'm talking about running here and not, ahem, you know. I'm a married lady, after all. With a baby. Those days are long gone and were very short days at that. Just kidding.

Maybe.

Anyway, back to the all the way and the running thing. When it comes to training for an event, I like to run as close to the distance as possible. I don't believe in a 10-mile long run to get me through a half-marathon. Just don't. Sure, the adrenaline of the race might carry you through the last 5K but a big part of success in running is confidence. I just don't feel confident that I'll run 13.1 miles if I've only tackled 10 miles a couple weeks before.

So it was with that mindset that I looked for a training plan for my next BIG race - the Huff 50K relay - on Dec. 17. I started out looking at 15K training plans as the 9.3-mile distance is comparable to to the 10.8 miles (I think?) I'll be running. Hal Higdon's novice plan is 10 weeks, which is perfect, but has the longest run at 8 miles. Another plan, this one 12 weeks, topped out at 7 miles.

No good. No good at all.

I want - no, I need - a plan that takes me to the 10-mile mark as this will be the farthest I've ran in more than a year. I considered crafting a plan myself but I feel rusty in terms of scheduling and still lack a strong base at the 5-mile distance, which I use as a marker of my fitness.

And then I remembered something: Half-marathon schedules often top out at 10 miles. Huzzah!

I went back to my buddy Hal Higdon and looked at his half plans. I opted for the Novice 1, which seemed to be an overall good plan for me at this juncture. It offers a gentle increase in distance, cut back weeks and the option of 4 days a week. (I like 4-day-a-week plans as the fourth day really helps to build a base.) It does not include tempo runs or speedwork - something I'm not quite ready for just yet.

And the longest run? 10 miles. Yep, I'll be going all the way.

What do you look for in a training plan? Do you like trust that you'll be able to add a few miles to your longest run come race day?

Huffing and puffing

What do you do when you get an e-mail like this?

A) Tell your friend that she is a special kind of mad and you don’t subscribe to such madness.

B) Think about it but decide that last November’s W.O.O.F. was chilly enough and a December race will only be worse.

C) Start looking at training plans.

I think you all know which answer I picked.

Yes, I am crazy.

BUT, I’ll have 12 weeks between my first post-partum race, the Fort-4-Fitness 4-miler, and the Huff – the perfect amount of time for a training plan. And there’s nothing like a race to keep you running as the weather cools.

Now I just need to decide whether to base my training schedule on a 15K plan or a half-marathon one.

Have you ever signed up for a race that had people questioning your sanity?

Last year, I signed up for there loops, totaling 16 miles, at the W.O.O.F. with less than three weeks to train and never having run more than a half-marathon. It was insane but I ended up doing well and placing first in my age group.