Coyote 50k - The race that almost wasn't, but ended up being a little more.

 I was super nervous about this race because it was supposed to be my "comeback" race as well as a checkpoint for my 100k training.

I decided to car camp to make sure I actually got to the race the next morning.  After a good dinner with friends and makeshift tailgating with my DDR peeps, I finished the night chatting with Chad in our camping chairs by the cars and then reading my book.  That night sleep eluded me because I forgot my pillow.  Of course I forgot my pillow because as I was leaving the house earlier that day, I bragged that I had everything and Christopher said I would forget SOMETHING.  Boom.  Pillow.  Started my restless sleeping around 11PM, woke up at 3AM to turn the heat on and evidently eat some Wheat Thins that I don't remember eating - I suffer from a disorder called the Midnight Munchies.  I finally fell asleep around 5AM only to have Chad bang on my car an hour and fifteen minutes later and twenty minutes before my alarm was due to set off.  A bunch of expletives and middle fingers directed toward him as he laughed, I decided to walk to the bathroom and let the cold wake me up a little.  As I left the bathroom, a bunch of people ran by me donning headlamps and I asked what was going on.  One runner glanced in my direction and incredulously informed me that it was a trail race.  Duh.  The fifty milers started at 6AM, so obviously there would be people with headlamps - my brain just didn't compute the fact sans coffee.

My home Friday night:

Fast forward - I got back to my car, chugged my Coke Zero energy drink and proceeded to go through the motions of getting race day ready.  That was something I could definitely do in my sleep.  Once I was good to go, I headed over to the shuttle pick up spot only to discover a very long line.  Suddenly I was very thankful for the rude awakening.  When I finally arrived at the starting point, Helen was there waiting to take my pre-race photo. 

As I crossed the start line, Chris Barnwell was there just shaking his head because I was fifteen minutes late.  It wouldn't be a race without my late starts!

On the first loop, people kept saying, "Hi Amanda!" and I only recognized a few.  Either it was sleep deprivation or they were the cheerleaders I prayed for the night before when I was getting right with God pre-race.  Six miles of rocks and hills later plus getting lost for a handful of yards, I tweaked my knee pretty bad.  No joke, a few minutes later I heard crows circling overhead which is never a good sign.  It was at that point that I reached Death Hill.  I recognized it from the course preview we did the week before and heeded Helen's advice telling myself I only had to see it three more times.  I scaled the hill and proceeded the roughly 1.5 miles back to the start to close out my first loop.  Once again, Chris was shaking his head because in true Amanda style, I went off course.  

THREE MORE LOOPS????  There was no way I could pull this off.  After changing my socks, I dragged my ass back out on the course.  One more loop and I could quit saying I at least did a 25k and live to see another day.  The second loop was rather uneventful.  I limped through it and met a really nice guy from Belton and decided that day of all days was a good day to hike at Cleburne.  At least he was a trail runner in his previous life and appreciated our sufferfest.  Our conversation helped distract me from the pain from Death Hill because I had someone to commiserate with.  He ended up splitting off to go to his car about a mile out from the start line.  I crossed the mat in good spirits hemming and hawing over my next steps (no pun intended).  After changing my shoes and dawdling more than I should, Chris made sure I went out for my third loop.

As the course cleared out and the only people left were 50k and 50 mile runners, it grew quiet and I began to notice things.  The hills seemed way steeper going both up and down and at some point I came across a hill that I can only describe as "up hill, both ways" like our parents used to say about going to school when we complained about something as kids.  It also reminded me of that scene from Twister where a cow flies across the car and another cow flew in the other direction except it was, "Hill.  Another hill.  I think that's the same hill" and it was.  

I also honed in my amateur boxing skills bobbing and weaving around creepy mini-caterpillars hanging from the trees.  Brent Heady ran passed me and compared them to Invasion of the Body Snatchers.  The highlights of that loop included the bluebonnet fields and Chad passing me only stopping for a quick selfie.  He was on his final loop as I was crawling through my third.  

Outside of those, I wasn't paying attention and ate one of those caterpillars.  Is it protein?  That has yet to be decided.  When I reached my arch nemesis, I reminded myself only one more time.  Back to the start.

Do I head out for that last loop?  It would be dark about halfway through and did I really want to deal with that knowing the terrain?  I changed my socks again.  Chris reminded me I had only one left.  Rob said he would warm up my medal for me.  Le sigh.  I started back out.  By then most 50kers were done, so it was just me and the 50 milers.  Two of them passed by and I asked them what day it was.  I seriously started singing, "All By Myselffffff".  Thankfully my SRTT girls were at the 3.5 mile aid station with quesadillas and good conversation.  I really wanted to hang out more because I was so lonely at that point, but one foot in front of the other.  Only three miles until my last encounter with Death disguised as limestone.  I started seeing things that weren't really there and broke out in song with R.E.M's Everybody Hurts except changing the lyrics to Everyyyything Hurts.  At that point I was in pain so much that I knew it couldn't get any worse.  It sounded like rain sprinkles, but no rain.  Dear Lord.  Was that caterpillars falling from the trees????  It was dark by then and I couldn't see anything except what was right in front of me and then there it was.  The hill.  I muttered, "One last time, bitch."  

Up I went and then it was done.  A mile and a half to go.  Half a mile into this last stretch, it started raining and it was the end of any hint of pace.  I was stumbling and sliding over rocks and moving at maybe one mile an hour, careful of each step.  I heard the generator at the finish close and then far away, close and then far away.  It was like the end was laughing at me.  Up and down I went counting the three hills I had to go over before I saw The Bridge.  The bridge indicated I was close.  I swear Rob moved the bridge further and further away for that loop and laughing because it took forever to get there.  As I was nearing the end, two fifty milers passed me and I decided to shuffle across the finish line.  It was done.  I did it.  I'm back - just a little slower.  

Next year I'm signing up for the four mile fun run instead.

 

Grasslands Course Preview

 

Let me provide some background to this weekend's scouting trip:

I was supposed to scope out the trail Saturday, but it was not in the cards.  I woke up late and fell up the stairs while getting ready to leave and had a bug bump on my knee.  When I got to the grasslands, Google Maps brought me to a dead end gate.  I had no cell service to try and find the trailhead, so I just kept trying to find it.  On third and final attempt, I made a sharp turnaround and my drink flew out of my cupholder completely soaking my socks, shoes and the rest of the driver's side (Some dripped on my head from above me 😬)  This was my final straw.  The drive back to get fresh socks and shoes was over an hour and I was just mentally done.  

Fast forward to today.  I had fifteen miles on the schedule and the blue trail was mapped for 13.5, so I figured I would check out the trail with that loop and tack on a little bit extra.  It's been two years since I've been out there and I needed my memory refreshed.  

My notes from this experience are below:

• Within a mile of the beginning of the trail, I came across a small water crossing.  This made yesterday's frustration a moot point as my socks and shoes were soaked and was proof positive of how sheltered I've become during my trail hiatus.  
  
  
  
• PAY ATTENTION TO THE TRAIL MARKERS.  Between my Shiny Object Syndrome and watching where I should place my feet, I missed a fork in the trail.  All I saw for a long stretch were orange markers and the orange trail is the 24.5 mile one.  Slight panic built up in my chest before the trails merged again and I saw a blue flag.  I don't think I've ever been that excited to see the color blue, except for maybe at a friend's gender reveal where they really wanted to have a boy.  If you want to see all the pretty things and preview the trail, I recommend going out there ahead of time, so you aren't distracted like me on race day.
  
  
• If you are allergic to grass, you need to take allergy medicine before the start.  Avoid the Benadryl unless you want to pack a pillow and blanket and take a nap at the first aid station.  Go figure I didn't this morning even though the trails are called the GRASSLANDS and the race bears the same name, so my legs broke out in hives.   On top of the grass brushing your legs, there are also some scratchy branches.  Nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to trails, but be aware your shins may get a little scratched up.
• There is a good amount of sand on the course, so I would train in your kid's sandbox or maybe a friend's kid's sandbox.  Just kidding.  Sort of.  Sand can create the illusion that you are wading through molasses.
• The trail has a lot of divots from horse and cattle hoof prints, so make sure your ankles are up to par.  In preparation, I'm going to revisit the ankle exercises my PT guy taught me years ago that I never followed through with because who actually does those at home...??
• Make sure you don't over-hydrate like I tend to do because there are zero bathroom opportunities on the trail.  I had to find a place behind the bush to pee today because I had to go super bad and I was still eight miles out from the trailhead.  Zero people were on the trail, so I took advantage of the emptiness.  Of course a tenth of a mile up the trail afterwards, I came across the ONLY person I encountered the entire time out there 😟  Moral of the story is there will be a ton of foot traffic race day and you need to drink water in moderation to prevent a situation like this.
• Watch out for the wildlife on the trails.  The saying every stick is a snake is a good rule to go by, but with my overactive imagination, there were potential snakes everywhere.  In January.  I did come across a really cute armadillo that wouldn't pose for me or let me pet him.  The jackrabbit was equally uncooperative. 
• As mentioned above, you may run into cattle or horses.  If you do, be careful not to startle them because that would be a bad idea.  Continuing on about the cows and horses, watch out for their poop - you really don't want to smell that on your shoes the rest of the race.  If you do have the unfortunate misstep, it is not a good idea to hang your shoes over your car's rearview mirror like a new air freshener - especially if your heater is on.  Today, I came across what I can only describe as an artist of a cow.  That pile of poop looked like a chocolate fro-yo that swirls in a cone and now you will probably never eat fro-yo again.
• Music wise, I ran with one earbud in to test out that option, but I felt like I was missing something.  I would recommend zero ear buds so you can hear other runners, potential animal life you may encounter and most of all, to enjoy the entire trail experience.  If you are someone that ABSOLUTELY has to have music, this would be a good race to try out sans-music just in case you want to run a race where it isn't allowed.  If you don't want to follow my recommendation and you have wired headphones, do not make the mistake of thinking your headphones are the straw in your hydration pack and put them in your mouth.  Noise is the only thing that should come out of earbuds - not water.  Now if you've found headphones that also dispense water, please let me know because that would be super cool.
  
  
  
  A summation of today's experience:
  
  
  The Grasslands Trail Run would definitely be a good choice for first-timers when it comes to trail races.  It's on the easy side with a few rolling humps (I wouldn't even call them hills), some gradual inclines and declines, brush and moderately uneven terrain.  For the seasoned trail runners, it's a faster course with all the nuts and bolts of a good trail run.  
  
  
  Last but not least, Geaux Bills just for Anne.
  
  
  
  
  
  

I'm baaaaaaaack!

 It's been over five years since my last post, which was literally another lifetime ago.  To catch you up, I got my revenge on Bear by finishing Javelina Jundred 100 miler the next month 💕

Shortly after that peak in my life, everything went downhill - like from Crown King, AZ down to the boat ramp where the race starts.  I moved back to Texas because of my mom and went through five years that I can only describe as my "dark days".  The good news is I'm finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Current Goal:  Arkansas Traveller 100 miler (October 2 - 3)

Current Status:  Overweight, but somewhat decent shape for size.  Run/Walking instead of all out runs because of said size.

Synopsis of recent months up to present day:  2020 was rough.  I got a Peloton which was probably the highlight of the year.  COVID hit and when combined with the last bit of my dark days, the months felt like years.  I had a small burst of refocus this summer, but it fizzled out just like the in person races did.  Everything turned virtual and I could only "run" so many of those because of my shiny object syndrome and how easily I get bored.

2020 was also full of excuses.  I didn't feel good.  I twisted my ankle.  I banged my knee.  (both of those weren't bad and I could've pushed through them)  My hormones were off.  My thyroid was acting up.  I didn't get enough sleep.  I was hungover.  I was depressed.  I forgot my shoes.  I can go on and on, but you get the gist.

January 2021 - I made a lot of life changes.  I'm not doing it to jump on the bandwagon - I'm making these changes because I've made the conscious decision to focus on AT100 like I focused on Bear/JJ100 in 2015.  It's time for a reboot and Amanda 2.0.  I have a lot farther to go because I don't have the baseline I had back then, but I do have the experience.  Some cobwebs need to be cleared, but that knowledge is somewhere in the back of the brain. 

In the last couple of weeks my mileage has increased and trails have said "Hello!"  Instinct tells me to scoff at the amount of mileage that is currently on my plate and considered an increase, but I have to stop comparing the current to the past.  I need to treat it as a completely separate life and only take with me the lessons learned and knowledge gained.  It's time to keep the momentum set in the last couple of weeks, let go of the excuses and get back to the grind.

-A

Bear 100... Just a bit short.

Going into this race, I knew I would have to be on point.  My training was sidelined for six weeks and then recovery at the point where I should have been amping up my mileage (May-June).  Going into August, my longest run in the last three months had been ten miles.  I went from 10 to 26 to 47 in four weeks.  That's a huge jump in a short period of time-mentally I could handle it, but my body said otherwise.  The same ankle kept rolling and then the other one would roll as I took weight off the bum one.  Everyone kept asking me if I would be ready, and all I could say was yes.  My eyes were "on the prize" and I refused to think otherwise and/or smarter.

Wednesday before Bear, I started coughing.  Coughing for most would not be a big deal.  Coughing for an asthmatic...?  Only adding to the recipe for disaster.  I still ignored the warning signs, sucking on Vitamin C drops like candy.

We got up to Logan midday on Thursday before the Friday race and headed straight to the hotel.  The hotel wasn't ready yet, so we went to the packet pickup.  On the way out of the Sportsman, I noticed my bib was not in my packet.  The tiny panic that went through my brain was only compounded by the crazy eleven hour drive, coughing and sore ankles.  Things just kept adding up.  I was given bib #335 and told to get creative with a red sharpie.  I guess a handmade bib is better than no bib at all, but it felt so unofficial.  The mystery ended up solving itself-it turned out the race director had thought that was his bib, picked it up, returned it and it ended up being in a pile of paperwork.  Still I was shaken and excuses were piling in the corners of my brain.

After the race talk and a nice dinner with crew and Shanna, I had a restless sleep, dreaming of everything that could go wrong.

Race day and the nerves were at their apex.  I couldn't go to the bathroom (all runners understand that comment) and things continued to feel "off".  I went to start my Garmin at the beginning of the race and it wasn't on my wrist.  I am extremely over analytical and had everything organized based on time and pace between aid stations.  The fact that I had no idea where I was at only added to the stress.  The first climb seemed even longer than it was on paper and the second a break came where it was flat and runnable, I fell (like I do).  All scratched up, people kept passing me on the single track trail as I gathered my wits.  I tried to jump back into the conga line, but people just kept going around me.  Finally there was a break when it appeared I was at the back of the pack and I started moving again.  I ran a little further before rolling my bad ankle on a tree root.  By now, visibly shaken, I began to limp only to roll the ankle I was limping on.  I decided to walk a bit and down some of my nutrition.  Salted Caramel Luna bars sounded fabulous in theory, but they made me throw up in reality and I wasn't even at mile five.  Stomach settled after puking some and I began to pick up pace. I had no idea if I was on pace or not, but figured I would at least run the flats and downs....  and tripped again.  Panicking from everything, I started feeling short of breath.  This turned into an asthma attack.  Yes, all of this was in the first seven miles.  I texted my crew and told them I was done.

Shortly after I texted them, this man and his wife came up behind me.  We chatted for a bit and they totally changed my mood.  They finished the year before in 35:30 with walking most of the time.  I made it to the mile ten aid station with half an hour to spare and felt 110% better.  I could do this if I could just keep pace.  I texted Meaghen and said that maybe I wasn't done.

Mile 19.66 and I finally made it to my crew.  Man, they were a welcome sight!  They insisted I down six inches of a hoagie sandwich because I was behind on my nutrition from getting sick to my stomach.  While being a necessary evil, it did take twenty minutes off the clock and made me feel like I had a brick in my belly.  I tried to run the next three, flat miles, but my stomach wouldn't allow it.  The brick kept shaking and threatening to come back up.  Shortly after the mile 23 aid station, I saw two guys coming back down the mountain.  They were already done and DNF'ing.  The bad thoughts started kicking in again and I began to think, "At least I wouldn't be the first to give up..."  A man came shuffling up behind me with a tool belt looking pack that held all sorts of wonders including nausea tablets for the brick in my stomach.

Once again, I started getting my hopes up...  I was in DFL, but the sun was shining and the foliage was gorgeous.  Then the GI tract rumbled.  No one was around, so I hid as far behind a slim tree as possible on a single track trail and went to the bathroom.  The crumpling of leaves-someone was coming up behind me.  I took a tree branch and mimicked a golf swing to fling my poo down the mountain.  I know-that's a not-so-pretty visual, but it's part of ultra running...  You have to go at some point and it's not always the best situation.  It was time to move on (feeling a lot lighter)

Shortly after a nice downhill and some switchbacks, I ended up running through some gorgeous fields and ravines.  I don't remember anything like these flatlands being on the elevation chart, but I wasn't going to complain.  I caught up to and struck up a conversation with Scott from Illinois.  He definitely made this portion more entertaining as we ran into multiple cattle drives complete with real cowboys and discussed his exploits from the year before.  I eventually took off on the downhill as my knee caps felt on fire.

When I arrived at the mile thirty aid station, my crew was nowhere to be found.  I started panicking and all my previous fears and doubts came to the forefront as I realized I had no nutrition or support for another couple of hours.  What went wrong?  Why were they not there?  Was there something wrong with my car?  Were they lost?  The panic continues to rise.  That's when Scott from Illinois came to the rescue again.  The first time kept me mentally on track and the second time was just to give me a cheeseburger.  Those 350 calories are the best 350 calories I've tasted in forever and it was like a light shining in the darkness (no joke).  I had enough nutrition to push forward even if I didn't have any on my person.  We continued.

Between 30 and 37, I pushed on.  I spent some time chatting with Scott before I pulled ahead, and the relatively flat ground helped me gain some time.  As I neared the mile 37 aid station, there was an out and back section where I was able to see that nice man and his wife from around mile 10 as well as a couple of other runners that called out to me.  This boosted my confidence and I cruised into mile 37 with my crew waiting.  At least my worst fears were not realized and everyone was okay.  I asked Julee what happened and she just kept saying, "Ask Meaghen."  I guess I had a look in my eyes that I wasn't happy and joked around about the "wrath of Amanda."

Meaghen wasn't supposed to join me until 45, but jumped in early to cheer me up.  She caught me up on the conversations with Coach and had me laughing at his statement, "Just keep her happy.  Do whatever you have to do to keep her happy because she runs best when happy."  Sadly, he knows me sometimes better than I know myself and my racing!  I kept asking Meaghen what happened as to why they missed mile thirty and she kept dodging the question.  Finally, she fessed up.  They were heading to the aid station when they pulled over to let some cars by and ran over a boulder that punctured my tire.  $167 later and a trip into town to Discount Tire and we were back on track.  I could finally relax and with Meaghen at my side, we were flying....  Well, as flying as we could go between 37 and 45 which meant eleven minute miles, but still.  We almost missed a turn as we caught up to and passed multiple people.

Feeling good, we rolled into 45 looking forward to switching into our cold weather gear while Julee put on her best cheerleader face...  only she wasn't there.  Meaghen looked everywhere in the parking lot as I shivered and huddled near the vegetable broth.  The absence of Julee meant the absence of cold weather gear, headlamps and packable nutrition.  Meaghen kept in good spirits while mine plummeted.  All my previous fears kept coming back as we braved a 4,500 foot climb over four miles before a two mile descent to the next aid station.  The elevation and cold air started taking it's toll on my lungs (again) and I found myself stumbling by the light of a $1 flashlight from Walmart, moving at sometimes greater than 30 minute per mile pace.  Under normal circumstances, I could've crawled faster.  By the time we got to fifty or so, I just muttered, "I'm done."  Meaghen had shred her shirt so I could wrap it around my hands as gloves while I continued to stumble and despite everything, she wouldn't take no for an answer.  About half an hour later of wandering led us to the next aid station in sight....  Only we couldn't get there.  All we could see in between us and the aid station was this dark abyss of a lake in the moonlight.  There were no visible trails and we shuffled back and forth looking all around for a way to get through to the warmly lit beacon.  Two more people came up behind us and together, the four of us eventually found the poorly marked trail.  Julee was waiting for us at the end of the path.  I made a beeline for the car, curled up under a heated blanket and sobbed, sipping chicken noodle soup for twenty minutes, muttering unpronounceable words.  Meaghen, bless her heart, kept checking in on me, waiting for me to get up and get going, but there was no moving.  Eventually she coaxed me into moving next to the campfire, while I sat there and listened to others' stories of past ultras and their ups and downs before signing my life away at the DNF table.

I have been making excuses since the race as I've struggled with processing all that was Bear.  As Meaghen said very poetically last weekend, "It's too soon.  It's just too soon."  Yes, I had significant physical issues, but I will finally admit that it was my mental state that did me in.  Everything kept slowly wearing me down mentally and it culminated in that last extra mile before the 51.9 aid station.  I was done.  I could've kept going but every ounce of my body and brain said no.  I have never felt so broken and such an overwhelming sense of defeat as I felt in the final moments of that race.  Hopefully I will never feel that way again.

Running Tips

I've been asked by multiple people to jot down any tips that I have when it comes to training and racing.  This will be a "working post" and I will update it as things come to me  :-)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#1-Chafing
Chafing can be one of the biggest issues a runner faces.  I've noticed the hotter and more humid it gets, the more you chafe.  I've tried all different types from Body Glide to Vaseline and finally settled on (don't laugh) Boudreaux's Butt Paste.  Any type of diaper rash cream will work and it works a gazillion times better than any other product.  If you think about it rationally, diaper rashes are a type of chafing, so it works on grownups as well!  The following are typical areas you want to cover with cream: 

• Under the arms where your arm might brush against your shirt
• On the inner thighs where the thighs and shorts might rub together
• Ladies, on your sports bra line in the front-this is the worst place pain-wise!
• Your back if you are wearing a hydration pack....  My Orange Mud Hydraquiver never chafes me, but my Camelbacks and Nathans did, so it just depends on your pack

For men, mole skin will be your best friend.  I don't care who you are, if you run with a shirt on for any kind for a long run, to put it bluntly, your nipples will bleed.  I've seen some horrible cases where there is blood streaming down light colored shirts.  If you run without a shirt, you have no worries. 

# 2-Bathroom Issues
Most runners experience bathroom issues at one point or another.  I have had multiple races where I was sidelined for 10 to 20 minutes in portapotties.  Portapotties will become the best friend of any runner-it doesn't matter the condition on the inside.  I have yet to try it, but multiple friends swear by Imodium.  A lot of runners take a fiber supplement to ensure regularity.  I recently learned from my own mistake-do not take it on race day.  I thought that if I took it in the morning, it would be out of my system by the time of my night race.  BOY was I WRONG.  I'm not going to go into details, but you can use your imagination if you so choose.

Tidbit for us women:  If you think you might need to go pee mid-race, wear a skirt.  You can pull the inside of one of the shorts legs over and pee like a man still standing - just make sure your shoes are out of the way 😆

#3-Nutrition
Always practice with whatever you are going to use on race day.  I tend to lean towards anything that is natural like Picky Bars, banana chips or applesauce because real food sets better on my stomach.  I do take the occasional Gu, but there are only a few flavors that I can tolerate.  Every person is different.  The only thing I can emphasize is to take what you will take on race day.  If you plan on using whatever the race offers, make sure you figure that out all the way down to the flavors they are offering and test it ahead of time.  Otherwise, you increase your chances of having issue #2.

#4-Clothes/Socks/Shoes
Clothes are just like nutrition in that everyone is different.  Avoid cotton shirts as they increase chances of chafing.  If you have to wear a pack at the race, I would make sure to wear a sleeved shirt to minimize chafing.  Wicking fabric is best.  Otherwise, it's up to the runner.  As for shoes, always size up 1/2 to a full size from your regular shoe size.  For instance, I wear a size ten in my normal, everyday shoes and I wear a 10.5 to 11 in running shoes.  The longer you are on your feet, the more your feet are going to swell.  If your shoes are too small, you risk all sorts of foot injuries.  Your sock size needs to match your running shoe size even though sometimes this stinks.  I love all the cute colors that female socks come in, but those typically come in size Medium which goes up to size 10 shoe.  This would be okay if I was wearing normal sized shoes, but your sock size needs to increase with your shoe size.  I lost a few toe nails trying to cram my feet into cutsie socks.

#5-Training
There are many philosophies on training plans and many free training plans on the internet that give a good base for training.  I used Hal Higdon's training plans for my first couple of half marathons and  three full marathons.  It worked fine, but I did notice that I always "bonked" between miles 20 and 23.  This was because the longest training run he has you do is twenty miles.  I started incorporating a 23 or 24 miler in during my training and that problem went away.  On the latter half of a marathon, most of it is mental and muscle repetition.  Your brain can carry you another two to three miles, but six is asking a little too much.  It's like the people that stand at mile twenty with signs saying you are almost there and you think, "Ha!  No I'm not!"

If you want a customized training plan, always feel free to email me and I can create one for you.  I've taken coaching classes and run and paced enough races to know what works and what doesn't.

#6-R.I.C.E.
Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevate.  These are some of the hardest things for a runner to do, but are the most important when staving off injuries.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RICE_(medicine)

If the injury doesn't improve after using this method, go see a doctor.  I am the worst person when it comes to going to the doctor because I prefer to stick my head in the sand and overmedicate with anti-inflammatories.  I had a serious setback this past season and missed races due to this tendency and have since learned to always reach out to a doc at first sign of serious pain where R.I.C.E. doesn't help.

#7-Race Day Tips
First and foremost, follow all of the above tips. 

The night before, eat a meal that is a favorite and easy on the stomach.  I lean towards steak and potatoes because they are pretty simple and a meal that I was raised on so I know the reaction my stomach would have.  I would avoid beans and spicy food as they come with race day complications.  On actual race day, eat a small meal.  I've heard people say they can't eat before a race, but believe me, you need to eat.  If you have to wake up an extra half hour early to allow time for your stomach to settle, do this.  You need the energy a good breakfast provides in order to do your best at your race.  I lean towards bagels, bananas and toast.  These are easily digestible and provide the correct nutrients.

Put together a plan for your race and know it by heart.  For marathons and halfs, I would recommend a pacing bracelet.  Some race expos offer them for free and there are also websites where you can order them.  All you need to do is google "pace bracelet."  Using these help you to stay on track for your time goal.  Another option is to stick with a pacer.  As a pacer, I try to keep an even pace throughout the race as I know my runners expect that of me.  Place trust in your pacer as they will most likely get you to whatever goal you have in mind.  When it comes to Ultras, set a time goal even if your goal is just to finish.  When you are out there on the course seemingly by yourself, the brain starts to wander into some dark places at times and if you have a plan, it keeps you focused.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I said above, this will be a working document.  If you, as the reader, have any other additional tips, please feel free to comment and I will add them to the page!

Thanks,
-A

amandalynnhughes@hotmail.com

Old Pueblo Fifty Miler Part Deux

The entire week leading up to this race was filled with nightmares and relatively no sleep.  It seemed all too real that I was turning hypothermic again while getting lost in the middle of nowhere.  Even with the forecast stating it would have a high of seventy and total sunshine, I still packed three ponchos.  I wasn't taking any chances ever again.

The night before the race, I only got about four hours of sleep as the nightmares were even more vivid than the previous five nights.  I woke up with a mixture of dread and determination.  This was going to be a long day.

I arrived at Kentucky Camp about thirty minutes before the race started, which gave me ample time to get my wits together, sort out my drop bags and try to calm down.  We all lined up and the siren went off.  No one moved at first and then it seemed like everyone had a collective thought of, "Oh, that was the signal to start!"  We took off.

Somewhere around mile four, I rolled my ankle for the first time.  Knowing my body and it's tendency to keep rolling the ankle once it's been rolled this first time did not bode well for me.  Turns out I was right.  I made it to the Mile 7 aid station fighting the urge to drop.  The determination in me won that battle and I continued on my way.  I didn't want to let anyone at the aid station know about my ankle that early on for fear that they would pull me off the course.

Early on in the race, there was this really nice older man that I kept passing and then he would pass me again.  Eventually we got to talking and I was motivated by our conversation.  He used to be a hard core trail runner, winning Old Pueblo back in the 90's, but was a shadow of his old self after taking an extended period of time off due to a torn Achilles.  It was really neat listening to his stories about the old trail races and people he had met along the way.  Eventually, I had to speed up to try to make some of the splits that my coach had outlined, but the conversation had been just what I needed to take my mind off the pain.

Mile 25

At the mile 19 aid station, I heard the volunteers tell me to take a "sharp........", but I had my headphones on and didn't hear the rest.  Shortly after I left the aid station, the road made a sharp right turn and I assumed that was the sharp they were talking about.  Half a mile later, I realized there were no markers and made the trek back up the hill to see where I went wrong.  I came across the sharp left arrows.  From there on out, I vowed to pay more attention to my surroundings.  I couldn't risk getting lost again if I wanted to make the cut offs.

Once I was headed in the right direction again, I looked up and there was my buddy Ken.  We chatted for six or seven miles about anything and everything.  His foot was really sore, so he was having to take it easy on the uphills and I was looking for more conversation to distract me from my ankle pain.  I eventually took off again, when I feared for the cut off times, and turned up my music for distraction.  At mile 29, I finally decided to tell a volunteer about my ankle.  I didn't think they would pull me by that point and thankfully, they didn't.  They actually had some tape in the first aid kit and tried to rig some support for my bum ankle.

Mile 29

The tape helped for the first couple of miles after that and I was able to make up some time.  Based on my calculations, I would have plenty of time to make the cutoffs.  I could breathe a small sigh of relief and take in the surroundings.  The Santa Rita mountain range was truly a beautiful place.  I started thinking positive thoughts (finally) and decided I was going to finish this race no matter what.  Then I got to the mile 33 aid station.  I could go to the left and make it back to camp in three miles, or I could go right for seventeen more miles of torture.  Thankfully, my buddy was working the aid station and would not let me go left-I had to keep going.  He told me the next portion was mostly forest service road, which would be easier on my ankle and gave me some hope.

I started flying down the road, feeling rejuvenated from the fruit, conversation and level road and totally missed my turn.  Again.  I noticed the lack of markers almost half a mile out (I'm seeing a trend) and turned around.  When I got to the turn I missed, I felt like an idiot.  The first turn I missed had been a little sketchy, but this one was marked clear as day and I just wasn't paying attention.  This part was really rocky and I had to take it easy on my throbbing ankle.  The last thing I needed was a fall or another roll.

By this point, I had been left alone with my thoughts for too long was starting to entertain the idea of dropping out again.  After rolling my ankle a gazillion times and getting lost twice, I was nowhere near my split times and there was no way I could catch up.  Then, I noticed another runner behind me.  Yay!  Someone to talk to!  That other runner happened to be the guy I got lost with last year.  We had wandered around the freezing rain for hours looking for non-existent course markers.  It turns out that after I dropped at twenty five, he got lost again and added an extra twelve miles off course before finally finding someone to pick him up and dropping out of the race.  How miserable that must've been!  We spent about five miles together, constantly calculating and recalculating our splits and what we needed to make the cut offs.  We were both pretty paranoid at that point.  He told me how his family was waiting at forty and he had to finish for his kids.  I told him I had to finish for all the people cheering me on via Facebook.  How times have changed :-)

We reached an uphill and I decided I needed to run it (we had previously been walking the steep uphills).  He stayed behind.  I passed another runner as I was heading into the mile forty aid station and thought to myself, "There's at least two people behind me.  Whew!  I'm not last!"  I made it to forty with plenty of time to spare and could relax a little.  This was the last station with a cut off, so I was in the clear.  I only had eleven miles left, which was a mid-distance training run for me.  How many times had I run eleven miles?  Enough to know I could crawl and make it if needed.

Re-enacting Blair Witch

A couple of miles out of that aid station and I had to finally turn on my flash light.  The terrain was getting tricky-especially in the dark.  I passed another runner around forty three.  Good.  There were at least three behind me so I was definitely not last!  There was a lot of tall grass and I started imagining all the creepy crawlies I couldn't see.  What if I got bit by a snake or spider or something else?  The rational part of my brain knew it was too cold for that, but no one thinks very rationally after being on their feet for 40+ miles over thirteen hours.  I sped up and stumbled.  Crap.  Now I was having to watch my step, look out for scary things that go bump in the night AND try to find the course markings?!?!?!

Based on my calculations, I was 1.8 miles over from being directionally challenged, so when I reached the 47.8 mark on my Garmin, I fully expected an aid station to be there, but all I could see was endless tall grass.  Where was this aid station?  How did I miss it?!  Am I going to be stuck out here all by myself with Lord knows what lurking behind the next tree?

BACON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I eventually rounded a corner and saw some lights in the distance and down some switchbacks.  "Runner!!!!!  We've got a runner!!!!  Hurry up and get here already!!!!!"  The volunteers had spotted my light and were ready and waiting.  Scrambling down the hill, trying to find my way in the dark abyss, I hear "Bacon!!!"  I ran as fast as my bum ankle could carry me!  That is definitely one of my magic words  :-)  I had slices of bacon and even pocketed a travel sized tequila bottle for post-race celebration before taking off.  They told me I either had a short five or a long four ahead of me however I wanted to look at it.  Short five sounded nice, and off I went.  From there on out, it was pretty well marked with glow sticks.  There was one last horrible climb.  Two miles out, Chris calls to check on me.  We talked for a few minutes (mostly about how I was totally over this race, thankful I was going to get my buckle and swearing never to do it again.)

I have never been as thankful in my life as when I saw the "One Mile to Go" sign.  One mile.  How many times had I run one mile?  When I reached the finish line, I broke down sobbing.  This moment had been a year in the making and after one hellish experience followed by dozens of nightmares, an injury and the hardest battle I've ever fought in my mind, I had done it.  I had my Old Pueblo buckle.  Don't judge, but I slept with it under my pillow that night.

IMS Marathon

IMS Marathon was my second marathon pacing gig and I was determined to best my previous time where I was within twenty six seconds of my goal time.  As the 4:45 pacer, I would need at least a 4:44:35 to do this.

The 4:45 pace was a 10:52/mile.  My plan was to maintain a 10:45-10:48 pace allowing for walking through water stops.  My biggest fear was that the course was long like in Tucson.  The day before, I tried practicing my pace during my shake out run and realized this was going to be difficult.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't run slower than a 10:30/mile and somehow I was going to have to do just that for twenty six miles straight.

The day of the race came, we made it to Westgate and boarded the buses.  We ran into my friend Deni in the parking lot.  She was running this race as one of her "40 before 40" marathons.  IMS was her substitute for the canceled Sedona race.  We chatted the entire way to the start, discussing her past marathons and my plans for future ones.  When we got to the start, we unloaded the buses and I went on a search for a bathroom.  The last thing I needed was to have the urge to go in the middle of a race where I was pacing and not be able to do anything about it.

At the start of the race, I had a good group of about twenty runners.  I got to know each of them pretty well in those first miles.  I had some first timers as well as some that were on a fifty states quest like myself.  They were from all over the country and were attracted to the race because of how cheap it was-by far the cheapest marathon in the Valley. 

People started falling back around mile eight and soon I was down to four or five.  There was this really nice couple that were both in the military and this was their first marathon together.  They dropped back shortly before we reached the military base because they wanted to rest up for a little bit so they could look good for their friends and commanding officer when they ran the portion of the course that went through the base.  By then, my hamstrings were screaming and I was all alone.  It's moments like this when you have to find a task and focus on it to stay motivated.  For me, it was the fact that I had to get that stick across the line on time.  I passed a couple of my friends that had dropped as the sun was beating down on us.  There was no shade on the course and it was turning into a hot day.  I felt bad for everyone behind me that would be stuck on the course, in that heat for much longer. 

The last few mile markers were totally off and had me freaking out about the time.  First it was too long and I sped up to try to make up some ground and then the next one was too short, so I had to slow down a bit.  Runners came and went the last couple of miles, either trying to hold on to my pace or beat it.  As I neared the finish line, I encouraged the runners around me to kick it in so they could get a sub 4:45.  I ended up coming in with 7.5 seconds to spare.  I doubt if I will ever be able to get that close again-I was so proud that I couldn't wipe the "Amanda grin" off my face.  My muscles were sore for days after that because I had to adjust my gait to run that pace, but it was worth it.