How Deep Is Your Love?

This year started off better than ever. January I put in one of the best training blocks I had ever thought to accomplish. Running splits in workouts faster than I even thought I could, surprising myself continuously every Tuesday. Followed up with back to back epic long runs. Then in February I was sidelined with an awful back injury. It came out of nowhere and quickly turned all my plans and goals for the year on their head. Black Canyon 100k ended at mile 20 with my second DNF (2nd in a row, too, to add insult to the previous six months of injury & rebuilding). But that story was already told...

Bishop's Peak. My new favorite workout arena.

I hit PT hard. Pilates, weights, squats, one day off mandatory per week... I came back gradually. So gradual, it felt unbearable. I checked all the boxes and crossed all my t's. I was becoming really strong from the cross training and had a good base. Soon, I was crushing some of my runs. It felt really, really good. So I got comfortable. Cruising up the coastal mountains and gliding over technical trails, I had grins bigger than a Cheshire cat pasted on my face. Things started to look up and I dreamt up some big ideas.

I'd follow Loren Fisher anywhere in the world.

Three weeks ago I started to feel very tired. My runs seemed to be dragging and I accounted that to lack of sleep. Then when I took a 3 hour nap after class inadvertently (after sleeping 10 hours the night before), I knew something was up. Of course my mind went immediately to Lyme Disease. It presents like mono and I have had it before. Some days that week I couldn't run. I was sleeping a lot and missing out on daily activities. I got a blood test and that came back negative for Lyme (thank god). but I had low ferritin. Stephanie told me that anemia only occurs when low ferritin is in combination with low RBCs. But I was still SO tired. Biking two miles to school I felt like I was going to pass out from exertion. I started taking iron anyways.


The anguish and frustration set in. I wasn't myself and I was stressed. I hated how the act of standing up from my desk caused fatigue and light headedness. I didn't even want to go to class most days, as waking up seemed almost impossible. I was an endurance athlete! We push our bodies for HOURS... DAYS even!

I have a journal I write messages to myself of various sorts.

I went to visit my best friend Loren and her boyfriend, Chad, up in Bishop over the weekend. She was car camping, skiing, running, climbing, and adventuring for the entire month of April. We had made plans to run up White Mountain, a 14er that we had both yet to check off The List. I took my boyfriend Zach with me. We climbed in Owen's River Gorge, he got to mountain bike, we hiked at Convict Lake, he learn to glissade on Esha Peak, camp, soaked in hot springs, and we did a light jog (read: 15 min max for me). It was a perfect weekend. However, being at 9000' made me feel like I was at 18,000'. I accidentally took a parking lot nap while they played on Esha. I was thoroughly disappointed I couldn't play in the mountains as hard as I wanted to. I felt bad because I was probably holding him and the group back, too.

Hiking in the Gorge

So this week, I planned to start running. I wanted desperately to be back on the damn horse. I decided I had been sucking for far too long and that was that. Of course I then get a kidney infection. Super fun. Hit again with more fatigue and an aching back, I was sidelined for a couple more days. As my roommate Ashley says, Nerts. I got on antibiotics and that helped a ton (I have more to say on the subject of antibiotics vs nothing, aka stupidity). I immediately started to feel human by Thursday. I even went on a 20 minute run! (with about 3 stop breaks) So, progress. I was determined and regained some hope. I was excited to run and get back on the trails. I even went to the gym Saturday! I have energy and a smile has started to creep back on my face.

Froyo solves all the world's problems

Wednesday was a different story, though. At around 3 pm I totally lost it. The anxiety, frustration, depression, and general crapiness had been slowly rolling inside; turning over and over. I felt royally of crap and people treated me like crap that day. The pot boiled over; I hit my breaking point. It seemed like every part of my body was failing me. I was sad and anguished over the mess of it all. I had already wiped my 2016 drawing board clean and rebuilt ground-up several times since last July. I didn't want to go through that again, especially this soon. It seemed like I couldn't catch a break. Face down on the floor, I hated myself. I hated everything about what I was doing at the moment. The people at my school, the small town with no forests, my boring intro classes, but mostly I hated my body... I have such big dreams and aspirations, but seem to be failing every time I set my sights on something with one health issue after another. I was doing everything right in my eyes. The feeling of helplessness and ineptitude took hold. I didn't want to text Stephanie because I knew exactly what she would say. I just wanted to wallow in it all.

No caption needed.

Thursday morning I biked to school and was listening to my tunes. I was gripping the handlebars a little tighter than usual and had a grimace on my face ("resting bitch glare"). If looks could kill... On shuffle, my ipod came up with the Calvin Harris song, How Deep Is Your Love. To preface this, every song on my running playlist has a purpose: they are upbeat, funny, joyful, and have a mantra of sorts. The line "Hit me harder, again. How deep is your love?"... well... it hit me hard. I thought about how you have to dig deep and really battle yourself more than anything in this sport. The mind is the most dangerous opponent. Physical obstacles are just roadblocks that sideline us. But the questioning, doubting, and fear they instil is incomparable. In the psyche, this has two outcomes: either takes you down into a irrevocable spiral or makes you stronger for it while lighting a fire. Listening to the techno beat, I decided for the latter.

I still feel wildly out of shape (I know fitness is there, it's just hiding). I'm trying really hard not to lose it again and be smart. It's hard and the mental Olympics are even harder. I have some goals and I will make them happen. It's still, after all, only May. I know my body is a fierce fighter through all these issues and I have been incredibly lucky. So I'm going to keep fighting. I guess I should start playing the Grateful Game again, huh Steph?

"So tell me how deep is your love, can you go deeper?"

Black Canyon 100k. #QuittersNeverWin

So much Happy

Three weeks ago I had the best training week after one of the best buildup I've ever had. Starting soon after TNF Chile 100 mile attempt, I intended on earning a golden ticket to Western States 100. Over winter break, I had a couple awesome training runs on the course, which lit the fire even brighter. Running 35 miles for Camille Herrons birthday with the Queen was the best. Putting in long solo miles in slo was mentally tough, but instilled a confidence in myself that was unprecedented. Three weeks ago, Meghan gave me a workout that scared me. The mile repeats were set at a pace way faster than I had ever done and the doubt was high. I crushed it though. I didn't know that I could do that and still feel so fresh, despite being in the midst of a 92 mile week. It got me really excited for Black Canyon 100k- the race for the golden ticket. 

That Friday, I was gliding through SLO's neon green hills and imagining the best possible scenario at BC. I was giddy with the possibilities that could unfold and not a trace of doubt was in my mind. The next day I did my medium long run out in Santa Margarita. I greatly underestimated the climbing in those 18 miles but knew it's a route I always get dehydrated on. I wanted race prep to be flawless. However, halfway through the run I felt a little something tweaking in my low back/ butt area. I thought maybe it was a bruise from some dance move pulled downtown at my roommates 21st birthday celebration. So I ignored it and pressed on.

That night the little pain never went away. I woke up the next morning for my 32 miler and tried to stretch it out. I met my professor Nicole Kulikov (3x OTQ marathoner speed demon and newfound trail buddy) for the first part of the run. We were moving super well on the rocky trails but the pain never went away. Gradually it got worse and worse, slowing me down. Running back down the road with her it was agonizing pain. I had to stop and go home. Nothing I did, short of sleeping, alleviated the awful pain. 

The dream

She told me it was my SI joint. She had gone through similar injury after the 2008 Olympic trials. For the next two weeks everything I did was painful. I only sought relief biking and sleeping. I didn't want to wake up in the morning and go to class or do anything. It was very depressing and I felt trapped. I could see all my hard work and dreams unraveling and that filled my heart with anguish. Since I was severely handicapped and couldn't run, I sought to ease my frustration with baking. Inspired by Steph Howe, I made almond croissants and biscotti among other things. Meanwhile, I tried everything. I saw a chiropractor, sports massage, and went to physical therapy. The week before BC I all of a sudden had the pain diminish in my daily activities. The PT was helping and making me stronger. She diagnosed my injury as a nonfunctional glute. Instead of firing and doing work, my hip flexor took over and pulled on my low back.

She was confident that I could run black canyon and excitedly I regained hope. Wednesday, at the last possible second, Meghan and I decided to go for it. I packed my bags and hopped on my flight. I met up with Keely Henninger and we hung out in Tempe with her friend Hillary. Keely was running the 60k and Hillary volunteered to pace me the last 11 miles. 

Pre race hip thrusts are all the rage

Day of the race, I diligently did my glute exercises in the gym and mingled with running friends. We meandered out to the start line and off we went into the desert. The sunrise was spectacular. The gorgeous mountains were illuminated with purple hues and the pink-orange Sky cast a golden light onto the trail. The cactus were in full force too. The course started with a fast downhill 50k and then started rolling in the hills. We went out fast, but surprisingly the 8 min or faster pace felt like a breeze despite not running for three weeks. I cruised through the first two aid stations, intensely focused on pushing hard and squeezing my butt so it fired properly. I could feel a niggle in my back but mostly ignored it. I could handle that. For some reason, there weren't any gu at the aid stations so I stuffed my pockets with gummy worms and chomped on those. My stomach felt great and so did my legs. I was actually on PR marathon pace and felt great. I tried not to get too excited that early. 

Around mile 16, the jarring little dips in the trail got to me. My back started to really hurt and it greatly slowed me down. I had to stop several times cause the pain was too much. I tried to do my PT exercises but to no avail. I pressed on to see if it would dissipate. I knew that when the pain was giving me chills (it was probs 75-80F at that point), it was time to quit. I dropped at the 20mile aid station. Taylor swift sang "Should've Said No. Should've gone home. Should've thought twice before you let it all go" as I walked it in. That girl knows me too well. 

These rockstars went 1-2. boom!

Going into this weekend, I knew it would take a miracle to finish. The dreams and confidence I had built over this training cycle were so large that my hope burned too brightly to be easily extinguished. In my pre race freak out texting Stephanie, I knew that I had to pull the plug if it got bad; I didn't want to be out longer than I should or regret not trying.

Sitting at the aid station talking to the medic, I was oddly calm. I knew a drop was unavoidable and I am completely fine with it. The grief and anguish I had experienced the previous Sunday thinking that I wouldn't even go to Arizona, was insurmountable. But I did. I made it there. I was on the start line and ran 20 miles better than I have in a race feeling better than ever. I knew my fitness was great, but this injury held me back. I gave it my all and I tried my best. I couldn't ask for anything more and I'm extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to try. 

Now I need to start the healing process and make my body stronger than before. I'm so lucky to have amazing friends surround me and help me through the depressing reality of injuries. I have a couple ideas for this year and I'm really excited for what's to come. 

Shenanigans

Huge congrats to Keely for almost stealing the overall W in the 60k and the winners of the golden tickets in the 100k. It was a brutally hot day and tough course, and I have so much respect for every starter and finisher. Kudos to Aravaipa Running and Jamil Coury for putting on a fab event. Post race was fantastic, Keely, Hillary and I hit up the downtown Tempe scene and drank/danced until I had to make my flight to SFO. The tequila induced clubbing had some great laughs. Now to make up my homework and eat half priced chocolate...

Big thanks to all the support and encouragement I've gotten along the way up to and through this. I really, really appreciate it. Major props to TNF & Victory Sportsdesign (too bad I didn't get to use my drop bag) & Julbo USA, as well as the love from Sisugirls & Stance.

West is Best

TNF Chile. My First 100 Miler. My First DNF.

"The first cut is the deepest, baby, I know..."-- Sheryl Crow.

Friday, October 16, 11:13 pm. No, no, we couldn't possibly be going up there. We should have turned downhill by now. Oh cool, look at this blue rock...

25 minutes later... I stood knee deep in snow and the cool, wind whistled around me, blowing my braids in my mouth. Spitting out a wad of hair, I looked up. The white cinta, or markers, had been swallowed by the mountain, along with my willpower. I only knew that I had to continue trudging up by the fluorescent orange jacket and click-clack of poles making their way up, up up into the thinning air.

What seemed like eons away, in some other life, was the bustling of anxious nerves, strong and leathered legs, and flashing headlamps gathered around a rope. Looking out at the twinkling lights of Santiago, I made a concerted effort to focus on my breathing. I stood picking at my sparkling nailpolish, simultaneously fully expectant and completely oblivious to what lay ahead. Soon, the small, intimate group of men and women around me started counting down in Spanish. People with flashing cameras crowded in around us. I wondered if they were going to move, we would stampede them, or we simply would not start. Zeroooooo! The tape went up, the cameras moved aside, and we took off. Very quickly, I found myself bent over with my hands on my quads moving upwards into the unknown. This was the position I would be in most of the day...


September 6, 8:20pm. To Meghan Arbogast: "I have confidence that I can finish 100 miles in October. It'll be tough and I won't run as much as I should if I was 100%. But I had May and June and most of July. And those were great months. And I'm getting to be a good hiker. I thought about it all day. I can do what I can until I can't. Then I can hike"

From the get go, I was hiking. Through the darkness, I tried avoiding sharp, low-hanging branches, and cautiously used my hands to scramble over rocks. I tried making small talk with the men grunting around me, but nobody was listening. Perhaps they were listening to Taylor Swift. I made a mental note to ask Stephanie if she had my headphones, as I had seemingly forgotten them. Drat. Oh well, maybe this would be good for personal development, or I can study for physiology...

The ridgeline kept moving upwards, I wondered when it would end. Mira! A man shouted behind me. I stopped, turned around, and stood gazing at the most incredible sunrise I had seen. The lights of Santiago, were still twinkling through the hazy fog. Green waves of ridges rose from the depths of the fog until they disappeared into the snow-capped peaks of the Andes. The sky, bluer by the minute, cast orange & pink-mixed rays of light onto the mountains. They looked warm, inviting, and sparked a love in my heart. I smiled, then continued upwards, still stealing glances of wonderous joy at those far, far away mountains.

Fresh as Daisies!

The trail, after 5 miles, finally topped out onto a grassy field. The sky was still getting brighter when I switched off my headlamp. I followed the leader down through cow fields. Weaving through trees, we mashed our feet into thick, globby mud. Mis pies estan pesados! I laughed, but nobody else joined me. Sigh.

I could hear the shouting before I could see them. Happily, I ran into the first AS where my energetic crew awaited me. Mario & Rocko from TNF South America, my mother & Stephanie Howe greeted me. Stephanie forced a Snickers bar into my hand, as she helped me load up on gels. It would be a while until I saw them again... Mario filled up my water bottles and told me the three women leaders were 13 minutes ahead. I didn't really care since we were 12k into a 160k race; I'll do my own thing and just focus on finishing.

Locked & loaded, I left. I started with gels every 20 minutes, just as Steph had instructed me to do, but they were not settling well. it took considerable effort to get one down. Hopefully the Snickers would be better...

The next mile or so, we ran through beautiful, green fields (again, not on an actual trail). Some sections, we were surrounded by tall, yellow mustard flowers and trees. My heart was so happy to see so much green, flowers, and trees! It took the edge off the discomfort of forcing down a Snickers bar... Soon, my stomach started really hurting. I took this as a sign that I should back off the pace and maybe walk for a bit. A woman came up behind me and asked me how I was doing and what was wrong. I said my stomach hurt and she offered me food, but I politely declined as I had a pack full of goop. She encouraged me to run with her and told me about herself. The language barrier was a bit steep, but I got to practice my Spanish. I told her she was the first person to talk to me all day, and she laughed. We got to a muddy hill surrounded by long-horned cows. I pointed and asked how to say what they were in Spanish. Vaca, she replied, and again, laughed at me. She and another Argentinian scooted up the hill past me, and I was left to myself.

Soon after PC1

Here is where things started to fall apart. Rolling, punchy climbs and steep, slippery descents, caused me to freak out. I was tired already and only 12 miles in. I started crying when it was time to eat another gel. F this. Where the hell am I. This is hard. How can I possibly do this?

Crying & stumbling, I made my way along the trail. Stupidly, I had forgotten to ask Stephanie for my headphones, so I was left with my thoughts- my own worst enemy. I sobbed as I sucked down a Gu and meandered down a trail-less, angry cow-filled grass hill. I sloshed through a stream of cold, ice melt and dragged myself up the hill. I saw a photographer in the distance and knew I would approach the second AS soon. I wiped my tears and put on a good face running in. The RD, Nick, and several new friends from the SA team were there and helped me refill my bottles with coke. (Yes, straight coke). They asked me how I was doing and I replied that I felt awful. Nick gave me some words of wisdom and told me to keep fighting. They cheered as I left and I felt renewed.

At AS2. The coca cola begins. PC Matias Bull

Bubbling with energy, I started running up the gradual slope. As the slope got steeper, the AS fading into memory, and the mud more slick, my energy gradually drained. I resumed a quiet cry and my hands-on-knees mountain-climbing pose. A man passed me and asked what was wrong. Again, I pointed to my stomach and he asked if he could help. No, I'm fine. And he disappeared above. Already, it was time to eat again and I groaned inwardly. I reached into my pack and found a Peanut Butter packet. At 200 kcal/packet, I only had to sip half of it per time chunk. Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad and I could get it down without gagging. The combination of fizzy coke and hearty peanut butter must have done the trick because I made that next hour my b*tch.

I power hiked the shit out of that hill. I passed the man and he was shocked. Estas mejor?! Siiiiii was my reply as I began running the now-flatter part. I thought we were at the top. We had been climbing for four miles, so it must have been time...

The crew & Vero Bravo

But the white cinta kept leading me forward and up. A giant peak with snow towered in front of me. There was no way they would make us go up and over that thing. When I was close enough to make out brightly colored jackets against the snow, I gulped. The slope turned drastically steep and I assumed the "mountain-climbing position". There was no time for tears as it was very cold, and I was intensely focused on finding blue rocks under the snow. I found a couple and put them into my pack (Don't ask...). Soon, the snow got deep enough where I was hopping into other, previous runners' footprints as it was mid calf-knee deep. Soon, the summit came and I found two brave souls at the 3rd AS ready to help. I refilled with coke and took off downhill (finally).

Sucking the energy from flowers

The first two miles of the fire road downhill, was more like skate skiing through the snow. This was maybe the most fun I had all day, despite the fact that my hands were really cold and I had stupidly given my gloves to Stephanie at the first AS because it was not (required gear). Then the snow disappeared and we weaved our way down. I fell into pace with Pablo from Peru. His English was fantastic and we shared the entire downhill, talking and laughing. This was incredible. At Mile 12 I wanted to quit, but he kept me going and distracting me from those negative thoughts. His stories were awesome and I will definitely cherish those miles for a long time. The 20k downhill was actually more like 13.5m, but who's counting... I grabbed a golden poppy I saw on the side of the trail and put it in my braid. It made me think of all my friends in CA and how they would want me to keep going with a smile.


At about 52km into the race, I arrived at the 4th AS to see my amazing crew. I gave my rocks to Stephanie in exchange for those awful gels and refilled my bottles with more coke. They shooed me out and up before I had time to drop, which had been my plan. They said they'd be at the next AS, "just 10km away", and by the time I remembered how much I wanted to drop, I was too far up the hill and they had taken off.

Yup...

I began crying heading up the steep, technical, loose-dirt, cactus-filled, hateful hill. At some parts, it was so awful that I had to stop so I could cry a bit harder. Pablo soon passed me and told me to keep going and see him again. My mantra for this section was it was just 10km...

More false summits, some snow, and steep, narrow ridgelines later, I was at 11km and the AS was nowhere in sight. Pablo was ahead and I was sobbing uncontrollably as I stumbled down the hill. Tears clouded my eyes and I could not focus on where the steep, loose trail was going. Snowy Andes mountains and the ridges I was traversing, cut through the fog sharply all around me. I tried to fill my heart with the joy from those mountains I had felt so, so much earlier. It didn't work.

I thought about what I had told Meghan. I was so excited about my first 100 miler, this opportunity to see Chile, and to gain points for UTMB- an ultimate dream I have held intensely for the last five years. I believed so much in myself, it was incredible. I was confident and excited. At that point, high above Santiago, I was so supremely sucked of everything within me. I had been feeling so empty for so long, too. I had no will, no hope, no joy, no drive, no energy... nothing but tears and extreme disappointment. I knew it was over. I knew it was too much for me. Everything in my body ached and I was broken.

Pablo from Peru & some of the others before PC5 (Not my Pic)

Finally, I made it to the Aid Station. But my crew was not there. When I didn't see Stephanie's silver puffy jacket, a weight inside me dropped. I didn't think I could feel more low, but then I didn't underestimate how wrong I could be. I immediately sat down on the aid station and cried harder. With my face on the ground, I created mud with my tears. Pablo was there and sat to rub my back, comforting me. He told me it's just 10 more kilometers and the hill was just like the first we had come down together. Seeing as there was no way down other than to run, I slowly got up and ate a banana and filled my bottles, again, with coke (we're at 5L now consumed). I had run out of food about an hour and half previous to that AS. I made my way down the hill, which took a lot longer than promised and I half cried every time I wondered when I would see my mom and Stephanie.

The downhill ensued and I came to a highway. Police escorts led me across it and directed me to go up. I made my way from the highway through a couple neighborhoods. Without the course guides and white tape, I would have been completely lost. Soon, I was directed towards a small bridge and back to where the trail seems to have resumed. I craned my neck upwards to stare up at the rock before me. White tape waved in the wind, high, high up and I had my right hand holding the chain that had been bolted into the rock so I could make my way up. I let go of the chain, sat down next to the rock, and cried. Hard. A man soon came up behind me and urged me on. In Spanish, that I could barely understand, he told me just 1 km more after the short hill. He continued on ahead and I hauled my ass up that rock. With so many false corners, a continuous uphill, and more than 1 kilometer, I cried as I slowly walked. Out of nowhere, Rocko came bounding up the trail. He scooped me up into a giant embrace and I hugged him as if my life depended on it. After I had wiped snot and tears all across his shirt, he encouraged me to walk with him.

I love this girl more than chocolate.

We talked for a bit and he told me about his climbing. He was so encouraging and it lifted my spirits as much as it could. I told him we needed to run (as it wasn't that far away now) because I didn't want to get caught in the dark. The sun was beginning to set and cast a pink glow on the mountains behind me. I arrived into the AS and immediately fell into Stephanie's arms and told her, at halfway, I couldn't go on. I was absolutely petrified at the prospect of going farther, let alone into the night. I knew how long it would take, how much my body already hurt, and the idea of having zero distractions in the dark. Plus, the obstacles presented by the trail would be just that much more magnified at night. I sat down and cried. Since I hadn't eaten in around 2.5-3 hours, I downed as many pringles as I could. Shivering and crying, I knew it was done. My journey ended there. My mom encouraged me to get into Rocko's truck, where it was warmer out of the wind. That was the nail in the coffin for my DNF. At this point, I had stopped crying. There was nothing left.


Driving back to our hotel, I gazed out the window at the fiery, burning orange sunset sparking the tops of the snowy peaks. Soon, the peaks faded and skyscrapers replaced them. Several things led me to this failure: a giant buildup of caloric deficit and inability to consume anything, not being ready physically with little training after a comeback from injury. These multiplied and grew out of proportion as I emotionally and mentally lost it. With all of this, for my first hundred, given the course, it was way too hard. There was simply no way. I was not physically injured, but simply broken.


After, Stephanie and I got to tour Santiago through wine, Pisco, food, subway, chocolate, and a quest for wifi to study. We had a blast. She taught me what the Grateful Game is, and that's definitely helped put my bitter, disappointment over not finishing, into perspective. So I'm going to play:

-I'm grateful for amazing sponsors that would invite me to explore such a unique area and experience a completely different side of the world. The crew at TNF South America have been so hospitable and helped immensely to get me as far as I did.
-I have amazing people in my life encouraging me always- friends, family, professors... I am especially grateful for Meghan. She coaches me and helps me strive, to the best of my ability, for those far-out dreams I conjure late at night. She is more of a friend than a coach, at times, but always positively pushing me forward. Stephanie Howe has been an infinite source of last minute advice, tips, and companionship. I am so lucky to have had her with me and as a friend. My family is always infallible, bottom line.
-The people I met were so, so lovely. They went out of their way to help me, despite running 100 miles themselves. The camaraderie and love I experienced was unlike anything else; I will hold onto those precious moments.
-I got to the starting line healthy and I finished half of the course without serious injury. I am grateful for a working, healthy, strong body.

HERE is the Pre Race Preview provided by Matias Bull of TrailChile.
HERE is the course review by TrailChile
HERE is the post run write up by Kit Fox & Red Bull.
HERE is my Strava data (I had missed a couple miles due to stopping my watch & time includes sitting at the end)
HERE is the race website- I HIGHLY recommend this race. It is beautiful, well put on, and awesomely hard for those wanting a challenge.

Congrats to all those who had finished the race! Bravo!

Balance.

Recently I published a blog post for SisuGirls on balance. It's hard to attain and I have to keep reminding myself to continuously practice the art of reaching for it. As I am coming back from a tough injury that has put my dreams on hold for a bit, I need to practice what I preach with even more vigor. If I get swept up in negative thinking, taking on too much, and not properly recovering the body & mind, I definitely go a little crazy. Anxiety attacks are a real and common thing in my world. Sometimes all I need to do is just sit down on the trail for a bit and deep breathe. Connecting back to why I am out there brings me back to the present and makes for more quality time spent outside and in my work.

Here is the blog post.

It is 7:15 pm. The sun is setting, and I sit in my car at the trailhead, still in my clothes from work. I let out a long audible sigh though nobody is around to hear it. I am tired, I have a lot of homework, and I would rather go home to make dinner and drift into a magical dreamland. But I have goals, dreams, and the will to be much greater than I am. And so the trail beckons and my footsteps soon hit the crunchy gravel.

Why do we do this? Why do we choose pain and discomfort from the regular mundane? It’s because adventurous people cannot sit still. We thrive from working hard, sweating daily, and that feeling of accomplishment. Adventurous people are both intrinsically motivated and intrinsically satisfied.

So, how do we do it? How can we pursue goals, adventure, and an outdoor lifestyle while still adhering to the expectations of the regular world? The answer is simple: finding balance.

I have thought about this often and thoroughly. But after watching a short film created by my friends and sisters in sports, Stephanie Howe & Ashley Arnold, I decided to put pen to paper and write it out concretely.

To attain balance, here are some tips I try to follow:

BE GOAL ORIENTED.

I find I can pursue my absolute best when I set goals for myself. I like to make micro and macro goals. For instance, I ask myself, what can I do this week, this month? What do I want to accomplish? Is it a full work week with two long runs on the weekend? For my macro goals, I like to dream big. What exciting adventure am I saving up for? When I graduate, what career do I want to pursue? Sometimes those lofty dreams can seem super far away in the moment, so having micro goals help to keep the workflow going smoothly and to grant minor successes along the way.

REWARD YOURSELF.

Setting standards for yourself and being disciplined isn’t sustainable in the long run unless you give yourself a reward now and then. These can go hand in hand with your micro and macro goals. For example, I strive to do my school work diligently and adhere to my training schedule each week. So after I have finished studying and completed my long run, I will indulge in my favorite dark chocolate almonds or a mocha latte. My macro goals are almost rewards in itself. When I graduate college, I want to spend the summer in Europe training for my ultimate goal: The Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc 100 mile. Playing in the Alps will be my treat for studying hard and finishing my classes.

BE FLEXIBLE.

It’s okay; life happens. Failing to do a task or not completing a goal is totally fine. Everybody goes through this, and it always provides a lesson. There are days when I cannot get out to the trails because of work or school. One day off will not kill you or completely set you back. Stepping back and relaxing is even encouraged once in a while. If you have too much going on, pursuing mental health and stability is of much greater importance.

MAKE IT A HABIT.

As a student, my life is constantly on the go. But budgeting time and thinking ahead helps me get things done in work and play. Making things routine may seem to revert life back to the mundane and regular, but that’s where the reward system comes in to spice it up! I always change the location of my Saturday morning run to keep it interesting. They say it takes 21 days to create a habit. So when it gets hard, don’t lose hope. It WILL get easier.

HAVE FUN!

The whole point of why we are out there is because we love it! Stopping to look at vistas, picking flowers, and jumping around on rocks lets me connect back to my original purpose of playing outside. Everything you are doing, you should be doing because you love it.

Around 9:00 pm, I arrive back to the trailhead. Breathless, sweaty, dirty, and with rosy cheeks. I am grinning. I ran fast up one hill, and I almost tripped on a few rocks. A flower, almost dead from a beating, is strewn across my hair. It was blooming in the sunset, and I just had to pick it. It is now dark, and I didn’t get to study as much as I wanted for that one test tomorrow, but the happiness and triumph from my heart furiously beating is worth so much more.

White (Out) River 50 Mile; Race Report.

My last long race at Leona Divide 50m was less than ideal. I had worked very hard focused a lot of energy on that being my A race. Long story short, it was a shit show and I stopped at an aid station halfway wanting to quit for 45 minutes. Now that I am training for a 100 miles, which is more of a mental marathon than physical, I wanted to have a race in between Leona Divide and Pine to Palm 100. I wanted a good memory and something positive to fall back on in moments of self doubt and negativity, as I would be dumb to say those won’t happen.

Bend... Just stop.

Running with Steph, Riley & Jack

This summer I have been kept super busy working in the lab and running a lot with friends over the weekends. So, I hadn’t thought much about my impending, redeeming, 50 mile race: White River. Last weekend I went on some really quality training runs near Bend, OR. Every time I go, I fall more in love with that area. On Saturday, I ran around Green Lakes and Soda Creek trails on a gorgeous day; I felt like I was floating. Sunday I ran with Stephanie (Howe) & Zach Violett and their super in shape dog, Riley. Seriously, Riley can definitely kick my butt any day. We ran this awesome loop around 3 Finger Jack. It was gorgeous but I bonked so hard as it was 100% exposed and very hot.

The day before the race, I got off work early and drove to Crystal Mountain Resort in Mt Rainier Natl Park, WA. The drive through gorgeous mountains alone had me drooling and wishing for a 48 hour adventure run rather than a race. I got to the resort in time to hear a course briefing from Scott McCoubrey, RD, and get checked in. I ate my Tupperware dinner and crawled into my sleeping bag in the back of my car.

Off & Running! PC Glenn Tachiyama

Love this girl!

6 am the race was off. For some odd reason, I led the women’s pack at mile 1. I did not intend to go out any faster than I felt was good for me. I got passed by a LOT of people in the first couple miles. Whatever, I thought, I’ll catch back up, they’ll fade back, we still have 46 more miles to go… After 5k, the course started winding up, up, up. For ten miles, I had my hands on my knees and huffed around switchbacks on the first climb. It was cold, wet, windy, and I felt like I was sucking supremely. Not again, I thought, why can’t I nail the 50 mile distance? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed running along huge cliffs, by waterfalls, up steep stairs, and through the mud. The forest in the rain and fog is one of my favorite spots to be. However, for that climb, I was not having a good day. I felt so tired, heavy and slow. It was very frustrating. I didn’t let the thought of quitting enter my mind, but by the time we started heading back on the OAB section, I had decided today would be good 100 mile practice: long time on my feet, not feeling good, and just getting it done. Sigh.

Scott's Course Map

Fortunately, at that point, I had started running with two other women, Monica Ochs & Sarah Parker. We commiserated that we weren’t having the days we had hoped for, but filled that whole downhill with great conversation. Both women were nurses and so I had a lot of questions for them as well. By the time we hit mile 27 Aid station, my outlook had become a lot more positive. Unfortunately, I had become happy and fine with just running to finish the darn thing, but then a volunteer had to go and tell me I was 12^th woman. Drat. Now that the possibility of making top ten entered my mind, I dropped my complacent attitude and started running a little faster.

We had another long climb and I surprised myself by running most of the way up it. I knew we had a downhill then 10km to the finish, both things I estimated I could coast on, so I had to really put in the work on the hill. On the way up, I passed a lot of people to the tune of David Guetta and Spanish flamenco. Near the top of the hill, I came upon a woman in blue. I hiked/ran behind her for quite some time. Neither of us giving an inch. We went on like this for a long while until we came to a little bit of a downhill (a major fakeout before a steep pitch to Suntop- the last bit of the climb). I burst around her and sprinted as hard as I could down the trail. The mud made it a bit of an extreme slip n slide, but I made it upright, with grace and poise. I also gapped her a little. However, she very persistently followed me on that steep part to the aid station. We arrived at the same time and she opened her pack to have her bladder filled. Seizing this opportunity, I grabbed one gel and took off.

Course profile. I clocked it at 9500' gain.

This is where I put on the hurt. From Suntop, the course winds down a fire road for several miles to the last aid station. I hurled myself as fast as I could down the road. I kept looking over my shoulder and would see a blue figure emerging from the white mist. I hugged the turns as best I could to try to put physical objects like trees, in between us. Usually, when one loses sight of a competitor they are chasing, they start to give up. This downhill was painful, I was running as fast as I could and already had 37-44 miles on my legs. A bit of the way down, I really had to go to the bathroom. I weighed my options: A. I could quickly put on the brakes and pull over. Ouch. B. I could pull over, but then the girls I had just passed would catch up. Or C, my most appealing option, just pee my pants. I mean, it was raining after all, and I thought it would only be just a tinkle… Well. At least I was hydrating!

 

What we should have seen at Suntop. PC Seattle Running Club

I was pretty happy to be done with that first climb...

The road started to flatten out and I caught sight of another woman. I don’t know why, but I had kept telling myself that each time I caught someone, I had just gotten 10^th place; I would need to seriously work hard to not let top ten slip… In reality, I had no idea what place I was in. This mindset kept me edging closer to her. We came into the final AS together, and once again, I took off. However, she stayed right behind me. We managed a couple sentences here and there before she gapped me a bit. I switched my ipod until it came to Taylor Swift and put my head down. I had made a goal for myself that I needed to break 9 hours. Suddenly, my head was filled with Swiftian boy rage and calculating exactly what my maximum pace had to be in order to break 9. I caught up to the woman in yellow and passed her. Soon, another woman. Taylor Swift kept lamenting about how she knows places as I wound my way alone through the woods. This last 10km really was a kick in the balls with wet rock, logs, roots, and constant up and down. I had no idea where I was directionally, geographically, and if I was near the finish. The rushing of the White River (it really is white) and the soft crunching of moss and leaves underfoot and the swirling wind and rain in the canopy was peaceful. It was like a metronome consistently pulling me through the never-ending forest.

All business

As the clock ticked on, I grew more and more agitated that I wouldn’t make the cutoff I had set for myself. I made little promises to myself- okay, you can hike ten steps here, you can have oreos when you are done, you can accomplish one of your goals for the day… (Because apparently I was still thinking I wasn’t top ten). Just before the trail emptied out onto the familiar road leading into the campground, I saw another woman. FML. Now I was gonna have to sprint for it. I let it out. I put everything I had into that last half mile, and not an ounce less. I crossed the line at 8:56 in 5^th place (33^rd overall and 3^rd in my 20-29 age group). I was so happy to be done.

The more I think about this race, the more proud I am over how hard I pushed and raced the second half. I passed at least 7 women in the last 20 miles and didn’t let up. I am so fortunate to have met some awesome people at the race- I love new friends! And experience a super tough course with amazing volunteers and atmosphere. Once again, the people in this community make every experience a happy, positive, and humble one! Super grateful for my coach, Meghan, giving me a ton of last minute words of wisdom and getting me to the start AND finish line. I would be still lost in the fog without her (literally and figuratively).

Strava data HERE.

Gear used:

-TNF Stow N Go Bra, BTN shorts/ singlet, visor, arm sleeves

-Stance socks & Pearl Izumi Trail N2

-Garmin 910XT

-Salomon Sense vest

-1 Gu gel every thirty minutes, including on the start line, 3 S! caps, & approx. 10 dixie cups of coke

Gear I wish I used:

-gloves & buff 

Catching Up on a Race, Crew & Adventure Report

Legend... wait for it.... Dary. PC Joe McCladdie

Misty redwoods with Billy Yang PC Joe McCladdie

So life has gotten in the way of writing about the adventures I'm having. (Thankfully not getting in the way of adventures!)  Last I wrote, I had just paced Rory Bosio in a 100 mile race through the Chilean Atacama desert. Not two days back in SLO, I repacked my bag and drove up to Auburn for the Western States training camp weekend. It was a blast to run the last 75 miles of such an amazing course, and with the leisure of three days. The new and old friends I spent time with always make me appreciate our community. I am always, always blown away by the open arms and kindness shown to me by runners. It's like we have this special bond allowing us to feel these familial ties.

Girl Power PC Billy Yang

After being blissfully unaware of reality, I had to put my head down and finish up the school year strong. I had so much makeup work to do and studying for finals that not much else happened... Until finals week itself...

Wednesday of finals week, in June I turned 21. Finally. However, partying downtown and drinking all the beer I wanted did not happen as I had two finals in the following two days. BUT, since I did not have class, my lovely friends- Tera, Jody, and  Brandon- and I went for an epic run in Big Sur. we ran from sea level to 5500' up Cone Peak in a giant, 27 mile loop. We spent the entire day out there enjoying each other's company, the trees, the views, the few creek crossings, and so much more. My heart was so happy; I could not have asked for a better birthday. Tera brought a shot of Fireball whiskey for the top of Cone Peak in a soft flask and I had to take the shot halfway through the run. Gross. After we finished, we enjoyed ciders and the sunset over the ocean. I got a little drunk and ended up dancing along the highway 1 while waiting for Brandon to make his way back. (Long story short: He got lost and finished a couple hours later- he's OK though)

Cone Peak & BFFs 

Poppin' bottles on the side of Hwy 1

Finals wrapped themselves up neatly and pretty soon I found myself driving SLO to Portland with my belongings. This summer, I will be researching Leukemia in the Phil Knight Cancer Inst. at Oregon Health & Science Uni. I am so excited to have received this opportunity to work in a lab with some of the leading minds in cancer research. My world has been blown away by all the amazing resources, toys, and opportunities presented. From here until August 9-5 Monday through Friday, I will be learning and hopefully contributing to the search for finding a cure.

All smiles 1 mile in...

All official & shit.

Miles of Smiles in Forests

Crater Lake in all it's glory

On Fridays, I have been hitting the road and exploring some pretty rad places in Oregon. The first weekend I was here, I ran a 50km race: Mary’s Peak, just outside of Corvallis. It was a beautifully put on event and I met a lot of really cool folks in the area. The race went well for me. I had been tired from all that had been going on in May as well as school/traveling. I didn’t feel too great with headaches, stomach cramps, but I think that took the edge off the pain I was experiencing while running hard. I didn’t know the course, the competition, and had very little expectations other than to just run hard. I took in my fuel every 40 minutes and carried a water bottle. The course started with two miles screaming down a fire road then immediately jumping on a singletrack to run 3000’ up to mile 8, which was situated right on the summit of Mary’s peak. Winding through redwoods and then emerging onto a grassy summit with more wild daisies than one could imagine, I was greeted with gorgeous views 360 degrees of the Cascades and the ocean. There wasn’t much time to appreciate the view and pat myself on the back for summiting, as the race quickly turns downhill and back into the forest. I felt alive and an exhilarating freedom I hadn’t felt in a while. Floating fast over roots on a singletrack, the course went down until around mile 12. It rolled on for quite some time with little blips of ass-kicking steep climbs, which took all of 10 steps.

My new buddy, La Fawnduh

Mile 12 had an aid station, and apparently there was another at mile 17.5, but no; it didn’t come until mile 21. So, I had kinda dug myself into a dehydration hole. It didn’t affect me too much, other than slowing me down a bit. Around mile 23, there was a very steep, mile long hill that was littered with fallen trees. The trees, being at the perfect width and height, could neither be crawled under nor hopped over. So of course, I had to stop in my tracks and heave myself across the logs. At this point in the race, I was passing many of the 25km runners and several guys who had faded back from the 50km. The woman in front of me in the 50km race, Emily, had stayed at the exact same distance the whole time- constantly 7 minutes ahead. At some point in the later miles- around 27- I started to fall apart and knew I wouldn’t catch her. I kept running hard, but the final climb in the open, exposed, hot sun just about killed me. It was really a bitch-slap to the face. But, I survived. I ran 5:02, which tied the previous course record for second female and 8th overall. Emily went on to break her own course record for the win. It was a beautiful long day in the forest and exploring. My Uncle even came out to help volunteer, and it was so great to spend time with him and introduce him to trail ultra events. Strava data HERE.

The Queen & her ladies in waiting PC Tim Fitz

"Bouclair Sandwich!" PC Denise

The next weekend, I actually popped back down to California for a certain party going 100miles Squaw-Auburn. I spent all day Saturday crewing for The Queen- my amazing, fearless, and beautiful coach Meghan Arbogast. Her friend and Pacer #1 Andrea Thorpe remained my buddy for the day. She was calm, cool & collected while I was a nervous Nelly frantic to see Meghan. Maybe I had a little too much energy… Meghan ran sub 24 hours for her NINTH WS100 finish and was so inspiring to watch. I loved, loved, loved being there to see everything and soak in the race and our sport’s history- it was my first start-finish WS100 race experience! I am always taken aback by the incredulous perseverance, determination, and grit displayed by athletes as they put their bodies and minds over the cliff’s edge to test their limits. Rob Krar barely missing the CR on a hot day, Magda in her 100 mi debut, Kaci running so strong the entire day, Gunhild Swanson making the cutoff at SEVENTY years old! (Can I be her when I grow up?), Meghan gutting it out despite thinking she had a broken toe, and seeing ALL my friends! WS100 was certainly a party. Whether they were running, crewing, pacing, or just spectating, I felt like every person in the ultra community I have known & loved was out there! As well as multiple new friends!

South Sister with the other Siblings next door

Lil D recovers from WS100 with South Sister. NBD

This Cali girl hasn't seen snow in a while...

The next two weekends were filled with camping and running adventures. Denise Bourassa and her hubby Ken kindly let me stay at their house in Bend one weekend and took me on a gorgeous tour of South Sister and Green Lakes. Their friend, Scott Wolfe, took me on another tour of the last 20 miles of the Waldo 100k course. Then I camped with Denise and Ken the next weekend up near Timothy Lake by Mt Hood! (Shocked they aren’t tired of me yet) Saturday I spent 35 miles out and back on the PCT. The first and last 9 I got to run with Denise- love that woman- and ate chocolate peanut butter covered oreos at mile 30. (holy goodness I got transported to another world).

35 miles on the PCT does not disappoint.

Sunday, I accidentally found myself at the Columbia River Gorge and went for an out and back run up to Larch Mountain. It was super steep on the way up, so I took my time enjoying the trees and gorgeous waterfalls. Coming back down I was relieved to be moving a bit faster over the technical terrain as I was running out of daylight and unprepared for the dark. I came around a corner and stopped dead in my tracks. Leaning up against a Redwood tree, I put my arm around it in an almost embrace. I was about 3000’ above the River and could see the sunset through the green, lush trees. The last rays of golden sunlight emanated off the green branches as the clouds slowly brightened to deeper pinks and purples. The forest was still and a bird call could be heard somewhere below me. A stream trickled nearby over some rocks. It was an emotional moment and a fabulous end to the weekend.

 

OH SO GREEN 

Why run 5 miles to finish Waldo when you can stay here?