Wow, what an amazing race! I arrived in Snowbird Utah on Wednesday, 7/16/14. The race was Saturday 7/19/14. I arrived with a bit of illness, but seemed to come around in time to race. I ran into some superstars of the ultra world including Ellie Greenwood and  race director and speedgoat Karl Meltzer the day before the race.

I came to Snowbird solo, knowing no one. I met up with a wonderful group of individuals at breakfast, inlcuding Trent Beachy, creator of Elevation Tat, a temporary tattoo of race elevation profiles. I first came across his tattoos at San Juan Solstice 50 last year in Lake City, CO. It helped me keep track of where I was and what was coming next during that long race. Memorizing a mountain course is difficult, and once you get a few hours into a race things become blurry. This product is really exciting to have, and I was sooooo geeked out to meet the creator!. Here is a pic of the Speedgoat course profile as it looks on the tattoo that runs the length of your forearm. Pic credit to Elevation Tat.

He had his lovely girlfriend Abigail, and their two friends Dan and Meggie Graham with him. Dan would be racing. Our trails crossed several times (well, basically at every meal) before the race, and eventually they sort of adopted me into their little tribe and 

even  ended up crewing me and cheering me on during 

the race. Here you see Trent on the left and Dan (racing) on the right. This was at mi 8, Hidden Peak. Obviously, the elevation had gotten to their brains!

Race morning I arrived at the start early to pick up my packet and help Trent and his crew pass out tattoos. I managed to put the first one on a young lady upside down...rookie mistake. The course does look a lot easier upside down though! Oh well, can’t fire free help. After that I opted to hand out the tattoos and let the experts affix them. I wished Dan good luck and we lined up. After making us repeat “I will not cut the switchbacks” and “I will not get in the stream” a few times he cut us loose at around 6:30 am. My goal was to race conservatively, getting to mi 14 feeling as good as possible.  We climbed the dirt road about a mile and hit the single track trail that would take us 7 more miles up to Hidden Peak at mi 8 and 11,000ft. I alternated between running and hiking, keeping my effort low moderate the whole way. I was able to gradually work my way up the field as we climbed. At around mi 7 we hit the talus field. Millions of melon size, jagged edged, granite rocks. Here is one of the pics of this field...

Going up them wasn’t so bad...I knew coming down would be a challenge. We crossed a small snowfield going up, a little dicey on a 12” wide trail. This is the view from Hidden Peak looking back at the zig zag trail that leads up through the snow. It was fun with only 1 misstep taking me knee deep in snow.

I made it to the top at mi 8 feeling very good. I used a product called Tailwind for calories/electyrolytes and was taking in about 17-22oz of water with this per hour. I was doing well at getting about 200cal/hr in and my stomach was tolerating this well. Usually, at altitude, I struggle with nausea and have a really hard time getting calories in. Not today. It was also a huge charge to hear Abigail and Meggie cheer me in, it brought a huge smile to my face! I almost cried. Henry Bickerstaff was also there to greet me. He pulled my pack off and between he, Meggie, and Abigail they had me in and out in no time. I asked where Dan was, and was pleased to hear he was moving well, probably 10 or so minutes ahead. My new goal was to find Dan. was getting to them both! Photo cred to Abigail Taylor and Meggie Graham.

I took off down the other side of Hidden Peak toward Larry’s Hole aid station at mi 10. This pic shows the first switchback down toward Larry's Hole.

I passed on through this aid station, as I had filled up just 2 miles before. I continued down, then a short but steep up and then down again. The next 2 miles were very difficult. I was looking forward to the long downhill toward Pacific Mine aid station at mi 14, near the midway point of the race. I was greated with nearly 2 miles of running down a dry riverbed of again, melon sized, loose rocks that wobbled under every step. I tried to run up on the side where there was more dirt/less rock but the sides were too steep and just kept pushing me back into the rock bed. I finally gave up and just ran down the middle. The heat was cranking up as well. I expected around 80 to be the max temp….Cool by Oklahoma standards. Turns out it cranked up to 96 coming into Pacific Mine. The sun at altitude intensified the heat. I finally got off the rock field about a mile or so before Pacific Mine, starting to feel a little hot and sluggish. I determined at Pacific Mine I would dump ice water over myself and fill the spare bottle in my pack with ice water to douse myself as I ran back up out of there. I was soooo glad I stuffed an extra water bottle in the back of my pack! I grabbed a couple of popsickles and headed out of Pacific Mine, mile 15 on the course with 2 full water/electrolyte drink bottles and an extra bottle of ice water in back.

Next up was a 5 mile climb out of that aid station. I continued that moderate effort up, I sought out shade as I climbed, this section included several miles of jeep road with intermittent shade. Here I came upon Dan, he was not feeling well and had pulled over for a minute. I could tell he was a little overheated. I whipped out my magic ice water bottle and pulled his cap off and poured some ice water on him. I know how incredibly good this feels….it can bring one back from the dead. One thing I have found in ultras, it doesn’t usually take much to rejuvinate an ultra runner. Sometimes just even a kind word can turn a DNF into a finish...and ice water has super magic power. I let him rest and I continued on. I continued to move up a little in the field which felt good. I knew it meant I had been smart at the start. Time wise I was wanting to hit the turnaround before 4 hours and ideally around 3.5, I wasn’t even close, but I was very satisfied with how I was racing and how I was moving up in the field. I was also starting to see some carnage from runners who were struggling to continue.

I made it back to Larry’s hole aid station at mi 21 again feeling pretty good. There were a couple of runners contemplating quitting here. As I filled my bottles and grabbed a handful of chips, I encouraged them. We only had 2 climbs left, both shorter than any climbing sections we have done. I felt a little guilty trying to encourage them, knowing the most brutal climb lay just ahead. 2 miles up to the top of Mt. Baldy. The first mile is steep, the second is just insane. I had experienced some varying levels of discomfort up to this point, but the last mile up Baldy introduced me to a whole new level of difficulty I had not previously encountered (i.e. pain). So, the first mile up out of Larry’s hole I prepped myself mentally for what lay ahead. I also convinced myself if I got over Baldy, I would be fine, falsly convincing myself that the rest of the course would be “easy” in comparison. I was prepared for Baldy, I was not prepared for after. As we hit the seemingly 70% uphill grade of Mt Baldy, there was a gentleman in a chair directing us to the flags that led up the mountain. No trail, just flag to flag climbing. He said, “Just put your head down and climb, it’s 1 hour, you can do this”. And I did, hands and feet mostly, looking up only to see the next blue flag. I climbed some like this and some with my hands on my thighs, pushing them into the ground. My breathing was out of control, laborous, and I felt like an inchworm. I could smell the wildflowers, my face so close to the mountain. I grabbed clods of flowers and grass and the occasional rock. I thought of my mother-in-law. Newly diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. The day before the race we learned the extent and prognosis. Large masses fill both her lungs with numerous smaller lesions. She needs oxygen now.  Is this how she would feel? ...I wondered. And then I broke down. I climbed and cried and grieved a little. I reached the top.

It took about a ¼ mile to find my legs again as I shifted back into a run. The next mile would be downhill into the Tunnel aid station. I found my legs and then some. I was flying down the dirt road into the Tunnel Aid station. There was Trent, Meggie and Abigail. I was surprised and happy to see them here. I told them Dan hit a rough patch, but would be coming soon. They filled me up and I flew out of there through the tunnel in the mountain. Trent had to chase me down to give me a couple of popsickles. It was fun to be chased. It was fun to be fast for a bit.

I descended down for another mile or more coming to the last climb back to Hidden Peak. I just knew this climb would be easy compared to Baldy. My legs felt fantastic flying down. Everyone said this climb was to be a piece of cake all things considered.  It was only a mile and half climb at most. As soon as I started to climb my legs revolted. I tried to be patient thinking they would feel better. It always takes a few minutes to shift from descending to climbing and my legs to get adjusted. They never adjusted on this climb. And here’s where expectations kicked my ass. My brain “expected” this to be easy. When it wasn’t, it made it that much harder. Instead of letting go of that expectation, I clung to it for the next mile. I tried to fight the mountain, fight the fact that it wasn’t easier, force my legs to move faster. Finally, with about ½ mi to go, I finally let go. “It is what it is”. Lori, let your legs do what they can. Relax your arms, breathe, relax your legs and just climb….whatever pace that is it is...but it will be easier and faster if you quit fighting. I made it back to the top of Hidden Peak feeling pretty roughed up. I saw the time and felt a little down, I had developed a new time goal based on my halfway point time and I was past that new goal as well. I also had not peed since I left Hidden Peak the first time 6-7 hours ago. I gave my pack to a volunteer. I was glad no one I knew could see me at that moment, I looked and felt bad.

I hit the bathroom and what little urine I produced was no longer “coors light” it was “IPA”. I left the porta potty and drank a bunch of water and filled my bottles with water instead of Tailwind. I knew I only had 5ish miles left and needed to hydrate. I ate the nastiest gu gel with “2x the caffeine” for a little kick and left the aid station drinking water. I headed down...the talus field, which dictated a slower speed and more opportunity to drink. Hit the snowfield and skated awkwardly down the trail, barely managing to stay upright, but laughing as I went. I was passing people which felt good. I was nervous though. Karl had changed the course this year….making it more difficult than it already was by adding another 300ft climb at around mi 29. I was afraid of what my legs were gonna do with this last little bugger. Well, I at least knew not to expect it to be “easy”!

Sure enough, the trail markers led to a more primitive, bushwhacked trail straight up 300 more feet over a really short freaking distance. BUT, once I hit the top of that, I knew it was ALL DOWN HILL!! I also knew my descending legs were good. Real good.  I took off like I had a mountain lion on my ass! I flew past 3 girls and several guys as I ran. It felt so good to open up my hips and fly! I blazed right on through the finish and immediately shook Karl’s hand and told him what an evil bastard he was….but that I meant it in the kindest way possible! He smiled knowingly. The field was completely stacked with awesome male and female ultra athletes. I was thrilled to be 5th in my age group and supposedly first from the Plains States, I haven't checked that one yet. I was the first…and last…from Oklahoma..hehe.

I found Trent, Abigail, and Meggie and we all cheered Dan as he came through. It was definitely the toughest course I have ever been on. It was also one of my best races. I came no where near to the time I had hoped for, but I raced well. I kind of see races like paintings, creating something that changes me, different hues reflecting different emotions, different segments, different efforts, as the painting is coming together. After, I get to look at it and see the colors and brush strokes individually and collectively. This painting holds a special place in my collection, as every new painting does. Thanks most especially to my husband Todd, without his encouragement and dedication to seeing me “demand the impossible” it really would be simply impossible. Thanks to my children Noah, Ethan, Avery, for being my reason “why”. Let nothing be impossible to you.

I wrote this in reply to a runner that had been struggling with injury and now dealing with fear of re-injury limiting her. I thought I'd share it with you to generate some thought and discussion. We all struggle with fear and injury.....

Fear is normal....embrace it, it is supposed to be there when you are stepping out of your comfort zone. I have had intermittent trouble with IT pain and plantar fasciitis and have still been able to accomplish some amazing things over the past 3 years including 3 100 mile finishes...one first female ;)

I say that to say your goals are more than possible, despite some painful experiences you have had. We all have aches and pains to work through...some physical, some mental. Don't stop because it hurts...evaluate the hurt and work on the root cause to begin to ease/eliminate the pain. Some pain can be worked through while continuing to train, obviously, some require stopping and resting...same is true with our minds. I have managed to train through a lot of my IT and heel pain and have made great strides in working to resolve some of the factors that have contributed (mostly form and strength issues). I have also had to stop training for brief periods to rest those "hot" areas.

I have learned it is a work in progress and seeing it as such has eliminated a great deal of frustration. I see my body kinda like a mechanic sees a car. If you take your car to the shop because something is rattling, the mechanic is going to tinker with it, using his knowledge and experience. If what he does fixes it, great!  If not, he tinkers with it more until it runs properly. I also see a lot of runners stop running because of injury or aches/pains, advised by their medical professional "your should stop running, running is too  hard on your body".  Again, like a mechanic, if you take your car in because it is rattling, he's not going to say, "you should stop driving, driving is too hard on your car". He's going to work to help it run better and more efficiently and he's going to help you work out the rattle.

Hay is in the barn...so to speak. Now it's time to cruise in to Speedgoat. This morning's run was perfect. 45 min, low heart rate zone. 5:30am with sun just starting to rise, fog, and hues of pink and blue bouncing off the wispy clouds above. Gravel crunching under my feet with each rhythmic step. Ahhh...

I fly to Salt Lake City next wednesday and on to Snowbird Utah for Speedgoat 50k 7/19. 

Today was a tough day. I love that picture coach posted, I didn't see it 'till after my run. Rugged, beautiful mountains pictured with  the phrase, "don't confuse difficulty with failure". I had to chuckle, because today...I didnt. Was it a preemptive post? Did he know today would be hard or coincidence? I was thinking about my run as I drove home. Analyzing my effort and feel out there, my HR and how it correlated with effort, terrain, etc. It's a 90 min drive and I always love that quiet time on the road. My brain buzzing, but my body relaxing.

I didn't expect today to be difficult.  The climbing I'm used to, and the hr zone progression looked easier on paper I thought compared to recent training runs and races.

I thought I'd share my run if you are curious what it looks like.  Today's run was to warm up and then do 3 sets of 20 min climbs progressing up through HR zones, finishing last 10 min in zone 4b-5a each time, running back down between for recovery, and then run fast down after the last one to the base.

The closest place with more than 1 mile of climbing is Cavanal Hill...The World's highest hill....really. 2385ft. 4ish miles to the top from where I start in buddy Josh's back yard.  There is a road that winds from bottom to the top, but Josh has bushwhacked 1 mi of gnarly trail from his back door, up the woods, to the road. It is a hellishly fun and brutal mile. Highly technical, with like 2 short switchbacks.  The rest of the mile is straight up, with rocks and roots strewn at all kinds of angles, poison ivy and oak, and the occasional snake to contend with. one is relieved to hit the road and climb the next  3 miles on road, however this is steep climbing and you trade all the distractions of footing to the relentless road grind and sun.

I opted to climb that 1 mile gnarly section as easily as possible to warm up and do the 20 min intervals on the road section. I thought it would be easier on the road to control my HR and really progress my effort up as I went. Immediately ,as I was warming up the steep climb my calves burned and my legs were a bit sluggish. About a half a mile up there's a jeep road that cuts across, so I took that road for about a half mile out and back to relieve my calves and warm up a little without climbing. Got back on and climbed the last half mile trail to the road. Relieved to hit the road and start work on the first 20 min interval. The first 10 minutes I progresses through HR zone 3-4a, getting into 4b by 10 min. I increased my effort and grazed 5a, but my legs were struggling. My best effort could only get me to zone 4b. I was a bit surprised, after 20 min I jogged down ez and started the second 20 min interval. Intervals 2 was similar to the first. On to the 3rd, my best effort was only able to generate HR zone 4a. My legs wouldn’t climb faster despite my coaxing.

The refreshing thing though was that I wasn't really frustrated. I was very satisfied with my effort. I could be objective about my run, break it down, and not attach any personal meaning to it. No sense of failure. Maybe dealing with traumatic news this week has my perspective shifted a bit, or maybe I'm growing. I'd like to think both. Regardless, it was a good training day.

Here's my strava link if ya wanna check it out...http://www.strava.com/activities/161655892

Up and down. Training and life right now. My training is literally up and down...climbing and descending and recovering in between (and I love it). Speedgoat is a little over 2 weeks away. I fluctuate between excitement and sheer terror. I read race reports and hear descriptions of running on terrain that resembles running on “baby skulls” referring to talus fields (baby skulls? really? who thinks of such?),  of climbing hands and feet up walls at 10,000ft. Similarly, life is up and down. Mother in law with what looks like metastatic lung cancer.  She saw the pulmonologist today and has procedure tomorrow for biopsy. He states, however, that what looks like metastatic lung cancer may actually be a dental infection that has seeded in her lungs. We’ll know more tomorrow after procedure. I should be thrilled at knowing this may not be cancer and may be remedied with antibiotics. Instead, I feel like crying, and crying because I’m crying. ...why am I crying when we now have hope? A bit of an emotional mess, but ok.

A bit of a storm arose. I had to sit down with my mother in law and her son/my husband and confirm her diagnosis of cancer today. Her doctor is out of town, and well it is a small town. I see patients every day. I have divulged a grim cancer diagnosis to many, but never to a family member, to a second mother. The trail ahead is a bit frightening, and the weather is stormy, but I see tracks in the trail where others have run. I am not alone.

The War Eagle races are on the beautiful single track, mild to slightly moderate technical trails of Hobbs State Park in Rogers, Arkansas. I do a lot of training runs out here and have run the 50k event the past 3 years, so I know these trails well.. This year I would be doing the 25k for the first time. The mindset for this race was “race/training run/experiment”. My big races this year are all 50k - 57 mile range and my training is geared toward that. This would be a “just go for it” kinda race. Coach initially asked if I could cover my watch with tape so I could gather the data, but not see it, really challenging me to race by feel. That is a tall order for me.... During shorter races I am heavily reliant on my watch for pacing and HR data. I decided not to cover the watch, but also not, only to allow heart rate to be viewed and at that I only planned to look only occasionally, to see if feel was correlating with HR. I didn’t let myself have any awareness of my pace or my time during the race.

With 400+ starters between the 25k and 50k, the start would be interesting to say the least. There is about 150 meters of parking lot before entering a 24 inch wide single track trail comprising the rest of the race. Not to mention the ½ mile fairly steep descent about a half mile in. We decided to have me get to the front and jump out fast early and ease up after a mile or two and run “a little out of my comfort zone”. In my mind this was an effort that lay somewhere between “I’m not sure I can maintain this effort for 14 mi” to backing off a little at the “Ok, there’s no way I can do this much longer effort”. I was nervous as I always am at races. I was afraid having come of Cruel Jewel my race would be flat and effort high with low heart rate and slow pace. My speedwork session earlier in the week seemed harder than it should fueling that concern.

As time came to line up at the start, I worked my way to the front and found a few friends including Tom. There were many young, college age guys chomping at the bit, talking nervously with this a first trail race for many and a first 50k for some. The University of Arkansas (with a huge track program)  is close and the Rogers/Bentonville AR running community is huge….this is an understatement. So this race brings lots of strong runners. A few minutes before the start, Tom leans over to me and says “watch me, I’ll be the first one on the trail….I’m gonna hit like a 6:30/mi pace going out and probably sub 8 the first 2 miles. Tom of course will slow down after a mile or two and race a reasonable effort/pace the rest of the way (still well ahead of most). I confided I would enjoy watching him take off, and I too intended to get a jump on the trail, but had no intention of hanging on his shirt tail.

Soon enough, the RD yelled “Ready, set, GO!” and we were off. Sure enough, Tom was first on the trail and I heard others commenting on the ridiculous pace we were all running at….note.. we were ALL running at! It was hilarious, the younger guys just wide-eyed...and of course we hit the single track and all slowed down to a more reasonable, but still fast pace. I continued to move at what felt like a fast pace until I could tell my heart rate caught up. We hit that first descent followed by the first climb. There were two girls in front of me, one just behind the other and they were out of sight quickly. I focused on my effort, staying on the border of “I’m not sure I can maintain this high of an effort” and “There’s no way I can maintain this effort”. I was pleased with how my legs were doing. I was still worried they would fatigue quickly and kept waiting for it to happen, but they held out well ‘till the last 2 miles. I was definitely uncomfortable, but having a blast! My goal was  to try and close as much gap on those 2 girls as I could.  

Here I am early on pushing that comfort zone and wondering if I was gonna be able to keep it up.

My stomach wasn’t having as much fun though. I ate a really rich granola cereal about 2 hours before the race and it sat like a rock. I tried to take sips of water as I went...It was very humid and 70s temps, but it felt like breakfast was in my throat. I didn’t realize until after the race how high my effort was the first hour or so..I was in zone 5b for much of it. At that effort I don’t think I really should’ve tried to force fluids and breakfast was too heavy. It didn’t occur to me that my upset stomach was related to my effort, I didn’t think my effort was quite that high. I’m also used to fueling and hydrating for longer runs/races. It didn’t occur to me I wouldn’t need much. By around an hour and a half in I had taken about 14oz water, which added to my woes, and was convinced I likely needed electrolytes. I switched out my water bottle for a bottle of sport drink and popped 2 electrolyte capsules and left the aid station. Within a couple of minutes I was dry heaving. The electrolyte capsules now lodged in my throat...not coming up or going down which made me dry heave more...nothing doing. I was pissed, it felt like a giant bug was stuck in my throat, triggering my gag reflex, but not able to bring it up or get it down. The only option was to try and drink to get them down. I choked down some sport drink and my stomach cramped, but at least the capsules went down.  I knew I was about 4 miles from the finish. I poured out most of my sport drink, just the thought of another sip made me want to vomit, and I didn’t feel like carrying a full bottle to the next aid station.  I knew the next aid station was only a mile or two away and I would refill with water, sip and try and absorb those electrolyte capsules which my stomach was cramping about. I hit the last 2 mile aid station and drank a little water. By this point my effort was high and my movement was very slow. My legs had suddenly decided they were done! It felt like I was running through oatmeal.

Right before the finish there is this little, maybe 50 meter hill that pops up onto the parking lot. I decided I would walk this (I had already walked 90% of the last hill less than a mile back), when I heard, “Lori! Get your ass up here!”. I thought, “Awe shit, I’ve been caught”. I knew that voice. It was James.. He’d already finished. His goal was sub 2 hour and I was hoping to hang on and get somewhere close to him. I moaned and rolled my eyes, realizing  I was now going to have to run up that damn little hill! Up and onto the pavement and finished in 2:24. A ways off my lofty goal of around 2...but I knew that was out of reach before I ever started. I was, and still am so pleased with my effort and when I went back and looked at my data it confirmed I was pushing that fine line, probably went a bit over it too early on leading to the crash and burn before the finish. It showed good endurance though, and was a confidence booster giving me a sense that I can race by feel and get out of my comfort zone for a pretty extended period of time. It was fun to really push my limits out there, and overall I had a really great day. As a matter of fact, this was probably my most satisfying 25k races ever.

Hehe...ohhhmyyyy it was tough getting my run on this morning. Most of my posts are about the joys of my long runs and races, and a healthy helping of imagination. One could (falsly) surmise that all my runs are met with eager anticipation and satisfaction. You shoulda seen me this morning. Actually, it started last night...."what?...I have a 2 HOUR run in the morning?", "bu bu but..I work tomorrow", "bu bu but its moooonday" "...bu bu but I'll have to get up at #$%! 4:30am...and still likely be late for work!", "I hate my coach". Lips pooched out I went to bed early, whining.

Then the alarm went off. I thought briefly about ignoring it. I thought, "I could go after work.. ugh...it'll be hot...the kids won't like mommy being gone all day and all eve..." So, I reluctantly got out of bed. Feet stiff and sore and legs tired, "Maybe I'm fatigued and just shouldn't run today".  Debating a headlamp and grabbing 2 water bottles (I don't want to carry) I head out the door. I bring my headphones thinking, "I will def need some motivational tunes". I drop the headlamp on the porch, "I don't care if I can't see, It's too heavy..I don't want to put it on, (snort)". I trot off, "I hate carrying 2 water bottles...why coach?" I get about a mile in and start debating turning around, "I really do think I'm too tired to run"...."Okay...okay...you KNOW you always feel better after 30 min...just give it 30 min, turn your music on".

A light rain starts.  I love running in the rain.  Cloud to cloud lightening and the city lights reflecting off the clouds makes seeing the dirt road a little easier... since I made the intelligent decision not to wear a headlamp at 4:45 in the morning. 30 minutes in, I'm feeling better. "Ok, this isn't so bad...except with both hands occupied with bottles I have nothing to wipe the rain/sweat away from my eyes...hmph....water bottles.  Then I hear the whippoorwhills. I turn my music off, it now seems annoying and distracting. Here come the 6 pack of dogs that always tear after me...they stay up at the house, the rain seems to have depeleted their motivation to eat me.  Wow, it's already been an hour...time to turn around.  

The light rain suddenly turns to loud thunder and flash flooding. Fortunately, only 1 low water bridge that had already been crossed. I completely forget the water bottles, the fatigue, the irritability and I'm running through a warm, intense downpour. Water to my ankles in spots and splish splashing away! No need to drink from my water bottles, the rain running so fast down my face, I simply open mouth and drink. No worries about trying to wipe rain/sweat away....wouldn't do any good! Before I know it, I am done....and feeling good ;)

The Cherokee believed that the sun was a young woman who lived in the East. The moon was her brother and lived in the west. Eclipses were believed to be caused by a giant frog that lived in the sky and tried to swallow the moon. The lightning and the rainbow were the dress of the sons of Thunder, who lived far in the west above the sky vault. Several different Cherokee stories exist to explain the stars. One was about a dog that stole corn meal, and once discovered, was whipped. As the dog ran howling to his home in the north, the meal scattered across the sky and made the Milky Way ~ Cherokee Myths and Legends by Lowell Kirk.

The lone wolf embarked on a long journey, one that would take her across the Georgia Mountains through the night. These mountains are rich with history of her native people, in particular their Trail of Tears journey. Her journey to learn more about herself, to become more than she was before she started. And the more she becomes, she believes, the more others around her would become, most importantly, the more her children would become.

She began her journey under the afternoon sun. During the day there were others around her. Other animals making their own journeys. Initially she took off a little too fast. Sun cautioned her with her heat,”you have a long journey ahead wolf, be smart” and she backed off to a more sustainable effort. She wanted to keep up with the lead pack ahead of her, but knew that was not wise. Very soon she was in the forest with single track trail before her, trees enveloping her and the sun peaking through, checking on her and keeping her in check as she went. She began to climb, swiftly and smartly. Squirrels scurried and lizards rustled leaves beside her. She remembered Cherokee legend legend of squirrels that were once much larger than humans...until the squirrel decided a human might be good to eat. The Creator got a little hacked off, and now the squirrel is small and eaten by man. The wolf ran up when she could and effort would allow, and shifted to a fast hike when running was no longer efficient.  On the first long downhill she moved well, legs with fast turnover flowing with the trail, passing other animals easily. This seemed to be her real strength. She seemed to have great comfort with the moderately technical downhill. She knew once the sun set, it would not be as easy to move fast down, so she took advantage, still paying attention to how her legs felt, knowing there would be much descending late in her journey and she would need her legs strong.

Along the next stretch, she had a bit of road running to do. Not much, 4 miles or so, but this was tough on her paws. They began to ache, her hips and left knee as well. She worried this would persist and really hinder her further on, as she was only 20 miles into her 55 mile journey. Fortunately, this all dissolved as she got her paws back on trail.

As night fell she was still moving well and feeling strong. In the dark, with less visual stimulation her attention turned to sounds. The trees rustled, encouraging her forward. Few small critters rummaging in the leaves, scattering at the sound of her paws trotting. She began climbing again, she had been solo for some time now. As she looked up, she saw a light...a headlamp she thought. She tried to figure how far ahead it was and if she was gaining on it or not. It danced between the trees, teasing her and laughing as she tried to hone in on it’s source. “It’s me, Moon!”.  “Aha, Hello there!”, wolf laughed at her error and wondered how long it had taken her to realize it was the moon she was chasing down! Moon was delighted to have so many out in the night running the trails underneath. Such rare and curious activity to see. Over 120 animals out running through the night! The trails were alive and the mountains were happy with all of the guests to share her wonders with. Wolf was no longer alone, Moon agreed to guide her and help light her way. He pointed out the wonders of the night, told her how the stars came to be and what a sight it was to see the dog spewing stars across the sky and yelping at his punishment for downing the corn meal. He spoke of his sister Sun, and how she was courted by a man who only came at night, and how she discovered his identity.

Wolf was distracted by the rustling next to her. She looked to see a possum rooting for insects. The moon laughed, “I saw you jump!”. The moon asked, “Did you know the possum used to have a big beautiful tale?”. He went on to tell the story of the possum…

Many years ago the possum had a big bushy tail He was so proud of it, he brushed it every morning and sang about it whenever the animals had a dance. The rabbit, who had had no tail since the bear pulled it out, became very jealous and decided to play a trick on the possum. The great council was planning a dance. It was the rabbit’s task to send the news to all the animals. He invited possum, and asked if he would be present. Possum said yes, but he would only come if he had a special seat. “I have such a handsome tail”. “I ought to sit where everyone can see me”. The rabbit promised a special seat and for someone to come and prepare his tail for the dance. The rabbit went to see cricket. The cricket was such an expert hair cutter, the Indians called him, “the barber”. The rabbit told the cricket exactly what to do.

In the morning the cricket went to possum’s house, “I have come to get you ready for the dance”. The cricket began to work on possum’s hair. First combing it, then cutting it...close to the root! As he clipped, he wrapped red ribbon around his tail to hold the loose hair in place.

When night fell possum arrived at the dance and found his special seat. When possum’s turn to dance came, he stepped in the middle of the floor, grinning ear to ear. The drummers began to drum and possum sang. “See my beautiful tail”. Everyone shouted, and this pleased possum, so he danced around the circle again and sang, “See what a fine color my tail is”. Everyone shouted again, and possum danced the circle once more, “See how my tail sweeps the ground!”. The animals shouted louder than before. The possum was delighted. Now to really show off his fur he untied the ribbon around his tail, singing, “See how fine the fur is around my tail!”

Suddenly everyone was laughing. They laughed so long, he looked around trying to figure out what they were laughing at. He looked back at his tail and saw there was not a hair left on it! It was as bare as the tail of a lizard! He was so surprised and embarrassed he did not say a word. He dropped to the ground, rolled over, and played dead, just as he does today when taken by surprise.  ~ Iteration compliments of Native American Legends, www.firstpeople.us

Wolf enjoyed the story told by moon and enjoyed the brief distraction from the rocky and rooty trail before her. Wolf continued to climb and descend finding rhythm and peace in her work. At around 35 miles she began to suffer some nausea and a very steep climb. She whimpered a bit as she looked up and saw how far up she would have to climb. She felt as though she were walking slowly in place. The moon encouraged her, “come along, let my light lead you”. The leaves rustled encouraging her to persist with her effort and not stop. The wind blew behind her to lift her spirits. Before long she crested the top and the moon shone bright. Now to work her way down. She was now well into the “Dragon Spine” section of the mountains, a 15 mile stretch of extremely rugged, overgrown, rocky, rooty trail. She tried to flow down and find a rhythm as she had done on the previous descents, but she found herself slipping on large limestone rocks that were moist from the recent rain/mist that enveloped the ridges intermittently earlier. Everything seemed to silence. For a while she no longer heard the sounds of the forest. As she descended she could not see the moon. She felt very alone. She missed a turn and went further down into the gap. She finally realized her mistake and turned around. Greeted by a steep climb and a foreign creature with a funny accent. She too had made the same mistake. We climbed back up together. Her journey would be far longer than mine, 100 miles, and therefore her pace slower. Once wolf was sure they were both on the right trail again she picked up her pace. Within minutes the trail disappeared again and she was off in the forest with no trail. With only her small lamp she searched and backtracked trying to find the trail again. She suddenly felt the forest enclose around her as if it just swallowed her in. For a moment she panicked, turning in circles trying to see a path. “listen”,the trees rustled, “Just go back the direction you came”.  Fortunately, she was back on the trail within just a few minutes. She was rattled though. With 10-15 miles to go and having made 2 mistakes in very rapid succession, she was fearful. She determined to ease up a little and really focus on her path. No more room for these kinds of errors, she thought.

She hit another climb which slowed her down and made it easier to focus on the trail ahead and see where she was going, not just keeping an eye on each footstep. The moon reappeared, “Got a little lost, eh?”, “It’s easy to do up here, trust yourself, you have made it many miles”. The frogs started singing their songs and the wolf was moving well again. She came across several larged downed trees, “hello” their voices boomed as she came upon them. Several times she had to climb over, hoisting herself up on the tree before getting over the other side. The trees found great amusement in this. As she crested what she knew would be the final steep climb she thanked the moon and the mountain for sharing their wonder and helping her on her journey. She had found confidence in her movement and her path. She was tired, but strong. She had become more than she was before starting her journey, and was anxious to share that with her pack that awaited just a few miles more ahead.

It’s 3:10am. 24 hours ago I was chasing the moon up the steep GA mountains. It seems a bit surreal...until I doze off and somewhere between consciousness and deep sleep I start dreaming. I see my feet in my headlamp and about 6ft of rocky, rooty, wet trail in front of me. I’m on the Notorious “Dragon Spine” of the Cruel Jewel course. I’m flying down the mountain, leaping over tree limbs, scrambling over downed trees and trying to skip over slick rocks. My heart rate climbing, I slip...and jerk wide awake. Dammit! I reposition and it happens over and over again. That’s what I get for trying to sleep cramped up in the back of the Jeep as we make our way home. No longer in the jeep, now in a hotel room with a comfortable bed I can’t sleep, I’m wide awake.

Rewind to 2pm Friday May 16th. Driving from the cabin to the start it begins to rain hard, then hail….hard.  I look at Todd and say, “Next come the locusts”.  He looks at me a few minutes later as we slow down to see the road with hail hammering the jeep, and says, “Is that a boil on your skin?”. Hoping the hail is not an omen of things to come we continue to the start. Fortunately as we arrived things let up. Here at the start, all of the runners trickling in, getting race packets. Todd and Ethan playing catch. Thunderstorms had passed and the skies were opening up. It was chilly, in the upper 50s. I felt good, ready.  Here's the course profile....

Last minute instructions from the race director and at 4pm we were sent on our way. We descended the gravel path onto paved road. Down for about a mile then up toward the trail head. Trying to find my comfortable climbing pace...and of course counting the females ahead of me..1,2,3 with 4,5,6 right behind me. A fairly good size lead pack of men breaking away. Remember Lori, “swift...smart...strong”, that is how you are to run today. “smart” being the emphasis early on. We hit the trail and I refocused on MY effort, keeping myself in check and not working too hard on the climbs. We climbed gradually but steady and I mostly ran, only downshifting if effort felt more than moderate. We then gradually descended back into the Deep Gap Aid station at mi 8.5. I stayed relaxed on the downhill and let the trail come to me. It felt great to descend for longer periods than I’m used to in Oklahoma. “I love this” I thought. I left deep gap and started a gradual 2.5 mile climb. This was almost entirely runnable for me. Trees rustling and the trail was fairly smooth and mildly technical. We descended again for a couple miles into Weaver Creek aid station at mi 13ish. I had decided to go with gels and water during day and switch to sport drink at night. I was trying to take in 200-300cal/hr.  By the time I got to Weaver Creek, I was a little nauseated. I drank some cola, filled my pack with water and was off. Up next was a 3.5 mi climb. I alternated running/fast hiking this one. I was right behind the 3rd female, Jennifer and about 5 minutes behind first female Jaclyn and second female Alicia. I was climbing well. I was finally getting into a groove where I was focused on my own effort and getting comfortable. I passed Jennifer on this climb. As we were cresting the top I joined up with another runner and we climbed together, chatting some. It was nice to have company for this stretch. We crested the top and hit the next descent taking us into Stanley Creek aid station at mi 19ish. I felt good cruising down and passed a couple of guys. I was really pleased at how good I felt at mi 19. I knew it was early, but I also knew I was managing my effort well. I was keeping my effort moderate, trying to take advantage of daylight and move faster on easier trail, but not taxing myself. I knew this was the “easy” part of the course and I indeed needed to keep my effort in check and conserve for the notorious “dragon’s spine”...a 15 is mile section of “shitty trail” along the highest elevation ridges of the course.

At mi 19, I refilled my pack and re-arranged my gels so I would have easy access for what I would need the next stretch.  The next 4 miles would be dirt/mostly paved road. I joined forces with Vince. That pavement running took it’s toll on my IT bands, feet, hips. Everything was aching quite a bit. I knew I was well hydrated, so I took some ibuprofen which was miraculous. I had set my alarm to beep every 20 min to remind me to take in a gel...or at least try.  My stomach is very tricky on races. I completely lose my appetite and can only tolerate sport drink or gels and water. I hate gels, but I can keep them down...it’s getting  them down that sucks! I had hoped I would be able to tolerate a peanut butter blend, Pocket Fuel, which I love on training runs, but I just knew it was not going to stay down so I stuck with the ole gels. The aid stations were stocked with all kinds of goodies, including homemade treats from the volunteers. Up to that point I was getting about 250-300 cal/hr and about 20oz water per hour. My new found friend and I chatted as we ran the road. Talk of family, why we run, and our histories. My “food alarm” would beep and I would try to act all excited..”oooh guess what time it is Vince?!”, “It’s gel time, yay!”

We were both surprised to find ourselves knocking out pretty easy 8:30-9 min miles on the rolling road, but they were painful and we were both longing to get back on trail to ease those aches/pains. At around mi 24 we got back on single track trail as the sun was starting to go down. I pulled out my headlamp and got to work climbing the next little section. I was getting excited to see Ethan and Todd as well. I pulled ahead of Vince briefly, and then it happened. I finally bit it. Tripped over a root and dove shoulder first into the dirt/leaves. Vince caught up as I made my way back to my feet. No damage done, just got dirty. We descended into the Old Dial Road aid station at mi 25. I was still feeling great in general.

It was so good to see Todd and Ethan. It had been just under 5 hrs since I last saw them at the start. Ethan grabbed me and gave me a huge hug. He immediately asked what I needed and dug and couple things out for me while todd filled my water pack and stashed more gels. He promptly said, "go mom, those girls are just ahead!" And I was off.  I was about 15 min behind the first female.  I had planned to switch from gels to sport drink at this point, but, since I was “tolerating” the gels, I was hesitant to change fueling sources. Also, I would have to carry enough sport drink to last me up to 3 hours,  and unless I put it in my hydration pack that would've been cumbersome at best. I'm also not great with mixing it up. I typically try to stick with what's working as long as possible.

I left Old Dial Road knowing I had 3 steep ups ahead and I was getting closer to the meat of the race. I shifted between running and hiking depending on the grade up. I was swelling some and nausea was becoming more than an intermittent problem. I was now only able to get 2 gels per hour and water. I took a nausea pill and climbed.  I was solo for most of this section, passing a few runners. I was pleased with how my legs felt in general. My quads and calves still strong. I was really focused on going down as quickly as possible, staying relaxed, but feeling like i was moving "swiftly and keenly".

Here Ethan is looking for mom....I came in to Wilscott Gap at 31 mi about 10 minutes off the first and second girls Jaclyn and Alicia. Word was they looked like they were pushing eachother hard and were alternating back and forth. I was hopeful that would take it’s toll and they would have to slow down. Ethan, getting even more excited, hurried me out of the aid station. The aid station volunteers were amazing! Lots of kind words and encouragement. Todd was awesome and quick to fill my pack and get me on my way. No time to linger...although so tempting!

The next section of trail would be more technical with and immediate mile and half climb which was fairly steep, followed by shorter, but still steep ups and downs. My hands on my quads climbing, pushing them down with each step on some sections I thought of how I saw Anna Frost climb, pushing her hands into her quads and thought, “strong”. There were some grades that had me whimper they were so steep and it was difficult, but fortunately they didn’t last long, and I just kept picturing Anna and thinking, “strong”. I chuckled a bit too, thinking, well...at least Im not at 11,000ft doing this (that will be later this summer).

I came into Skeenah Gap aid station mi 35, 10 min behind the first female and right on top of the second female which at this point I think was Jaclyn. I tried to be quick about getting out and the aid station volunteers and my crew were awesome! I was in and out of this aid station fast.

This would be the start of the Duncan Ridge Trail,  aka "Dragon's Spine", aka "really shitty trail", aka the DRT. I think "really shitty trail" is the best descriptor, but for names sake, I'll politely refer to it as the DRT. I'm pretty sure before it's all said and done, the DRT will have claimed the lives of 3 toenails and will have blessed me with the worst case of poison oak ever. This is also where I swear I saw pythons. Lots of them. They looked a lot like medium sized tree roots and limbs, but they were pythons on this shitty trail/rainforest known as the DRT. Within a mile or so of the aid station I caught and passed Jaclyn. We exchanged well wishes as I passed her going downhill. It was short lived as she passed me on the next climb. She asked who was behind me. I told her I didn't know, but was thinking, "I don't care who's behind me, it's who's in front of me that I'm after!". She climbed quickly ahead of me and was out of sight before long.

Then it happened. I got lost. The trail was marked well with maroon tape with Grey reflective stripes tied to trees. The problem was that the maroon was difficult for me to see at best and the Grey was not really reflective. I had studied the map well, but at an Intersecting trail I missed the flag to veer left and I went straight. Straight down, down, down. Probably 1/4 mi before I realized I had not seen a flag in way too long. Shit. I turned around and hiked up that steep mother. Another runner, one of the 100 milers had made the same mistake. She was from Brazil. I explained our error. She was sure I was wrong. I tried to assure her she too was headed the wrong direction. She relented and followed me back up. I was relieved she did, as we found the flags again.

Continuing down that trail would've made for a really bad day. I told myself to pay better attention and and we were off again. Well hell, the next section of trail was really grown with grass and debris and I'll be danged if I didn't veer off again. This time it only took a few minutes to right my wrong, but now with 2 mistakes made in quick succession, and having tacked on about 20 minutes, I got nervous. I was frustrated realizing the lead girls were now likely out of reach. Still, I pressed on a little slower making sure I was spotting flags. I would rather move a little slower and finish than get lost and end up with a DNF and a search party.  The downhills were more technical, wet and slick in spots. ..no longer running freely down and several times stopping to climb over giant downed trees.

I came into mi 48.5 White Oak aid station a little deflated. I didn't ask how far ahead they were. I knew it was too far. Ethan was asleep and Todd loaded me down with what I would need for the next haul. Next aid station would be Wolf Creek at mi 53. Here's where I made my final mistake. My garmin was not accurate on distance travelled, so I was guesstimating at this point based on what I did know about what mi the the aid stations were at, what the course was like in between and how many miles. I knew the next aid station was about 4 miles away, at the end of a long descent. I thought the next aid station was a full aid and crew station (ie..lights, people, vehicles). As I was descending, at what I thought was only about 3 miles, there was a water stop...a table with water and gatoraid.  I thought that was odd since the next full aid station should only be another mile ahead. I was going downhill at the point and moving fast so I kept going. Another 1/2 mi  past and no crew/and sid station. I was also now climbing. I knew I shouldve seen the aid station and crew by now and I knew I was supposed to see them BEFORE I started climbing again. With my 2 previous mishaps and my brain a little foggy,  I started to convince myself I had gotten turned around and was somehow going backward on the course. So... yep...I did it. I turned around. I ran back down, I don't know for how long. I stopped. I realized I didn't know where I was. Was I really going the right direction? Still nighttime and unable to use the dawn as my directional guide and the moon now behind the trees enough I couldn't see it either. I resigned myself to backtrack to the the aid station and right myself. Thank God about that time I saw a runners headlamp. "Which way is Vogel?" "That way" he pointed the direction from which I had come. Well shit! I said, you mean that water stop was Wolf Creek? "Yep". I told of my ignorant assed folly and I was grateful I did not continue another 4 miles back to White Oak. I was aggravated at myself. I just knew wolf Creek was a  full aid/crew station. Oh well, no sense in getting my panties in a wad.  I remembered the Race Director's quote on the race website, "poor decisions make for better stories" and chuckled.

I took off up the final climb and descent into Vogel State Park. Followed the flags to an arch of blue Christmas tree lights. No people through.  Hmm. Where the $@#! Is the timing mat? Where the #$@! Is the actual finish...The timing dude? I walked halfway around the building  and finally relented to going in. I flung the door open and said, "where the $#@! Is the finish line?" They all looked up up from their plates and beverages and said "here!". "Well hell, give me some food then!" I was so glad to be done! I finally got to meet the first  and second girls. Jaclyn Greenhill from GA came in first and Alicia Hudelson came in second, just 2 minutes before me. Those 2 were right on each other the whole way. I can’t imagine how intense that was to race together the whole way!  I didn't realize how close I had come though, which made me feel fantastic. These are 2 very tough girls with a lot of rugged climbing races under their belts. We had a great time at the finish, congratulating each other and other runners as they came in. Huge hugs from Ethan and Todd. I could never have done this without them both. Todd, my rock, Ethan, my encourager/motivator.

This was a huge finish for me. Prior to this race I was questioning my ability to race the 50 and 100 mi distances in the mountains. Last year I was only able to survive my 50 and 100 milers. Struggling just to finish. This race taught me that I can climb and descend...fairly well. That I can “race” a full 56 miles and do more than survive. I CAN finish feeling strong. That even though I don’t live near mountains, my training is good and is preparing me to be able to do it. A lot of questions in my head were answered. There will be lots of unknowns this summer, but a few less now. It may have been a Cruel Jewel, but a jewel of a race nonetheless, and a treasure that taught me a lot about myself and others. These mountains are amazing. Beautiful, rugged, packed with history….and pythons ;)

Thank you so much DUMASS events for putting this one on! Your volunteers were all amazing and wonderful. Their energy and kindness penetrated deep in those mountains and in our hearts.  

Left to right...Alicia Hudelson (2nd), Jaclyn Greenhill (1st,) Me(3rd)...feeling the pain a bit!

That’s it.  Swift, strong, smart. My mantra for running Cruel Jewel next week. If you’ve kept up any with my endless blogging, you will learn that I am quite creative and visual. I am also Cherokee, and as I grow older I am finding great joy in learning more about my heritage and our native ancestors. I spent much of my early childhood on reservations and near tribal lands due to my father’s work with different tribes. I love the stories and storytelling as it suits my vivid imagination. This imagination really seems to fire up on long trail runs. It’s a time for me to meditate, pray, soul search, connect, understand. It is also a time to get a little bored ;0)...That is when I get mischievous and start dreaming up stories of animals, intermingling them with legends and stories from my Cherokee ancestors and other tribes. Cherokee elders have encouraged me to “make the stories your own” It is good to change and adapt them and retell, putting a personal spin on them. It is in this context I hope to lead you into where I am going.

As any normal human being attempting things that seem impossible, confidence can be hard to come by. The “voices of reason” step in...the Walters if you will (again...see previous blogs to meet ole Walter). Walter says things like, “you are 41 years old with 3 children, husband, and full time job...don’t you think it’s selfish to do all this running?”, “You will never be fast….and why do you want to be fast anyway?”, “Do you really think you are inspiring others or just hoping to justify what you want to do?”. “Skyrunning?...really?...you live in Oklahoma...you will die.” Walter isn’t a bad guy, he’s not right or wrong, he challenges me...and I am learning to let him be there and be ok with that.  I think ultimately he’s trying to protect me so I still have affection for him.

Now, Cruel Jewel is on the very near horizon. The kick off to the US Skyrunning Series (I am registered for all 5 events). In keeping with my Native American roots, and to help me focus on what I want to look like/be like/feel like as a runner. And considering my recent dive into animal storytelling, I decided to think about animals, what animal embodies the qualities I want to embody as I run. I thought about how animals run. The deer...fast and graceful...but for brief courses. The rabbit...fast, smart, a little tricky, but again not the endurance runner. The horse? Definitely can go the distance, but more of a walk. The wolf? I had never really thought about a wolf on the run or as a runner, but the first word that came to mind was “swift”. Although not the fastest dude in nature, swift….efficient...does fit. What about endurance? I did a little research...they can travel up to 30-50 miles a day and cruise at about 5mph when traveling. Yup 5mph is a run and not too far off how fast a human might be able to move over that distance. What else comes to mind? Strong...the wolf embodies strength, strength of body and form, strength of mind also. And they are smart. So I tried it out..went for a run and visualized how a wolf runs...swift, strong, smart. And there’s my mantra and my visualization.

Yesterday called for the last, longest training run before the first US Skyrunning Series Ultra event - Cruel Jewel 50 (really 56 miles...ahem!).  I’ve been racing now coming up on 3 years and these are the runs that seem to be a defining point for me in my training. I know it’s coming and I really look forward to the challenge I always know it will be. This run, this one long run each season, before the races start, is always the most memorable because it gets me feeling the way I know I’m going to feel mid-late stages of a race, tired, legs a little zapped, passing clouds of uncertainty followed by periods of ease and flow, then more passing clouds, the miles seeming longer and longer. These runs are far more mental than physical and just a slight taste of what will happen in race scenario. That’s what they are meant to be...I think.

I sweet talked a runner from Arkansas, James to join me for 20 of the 30 miles. The weather was shaping up to be potentially severe, but we were pretty sure we had a good window of opportunity before the really severe stuff came in. We got lucky. Tornadoes did end up making their way through the north and east of us later that evening and night causing extensive damage and loss of life in Quawpaw, Ok and North Little Rock, Ar.

We started at 7am. Temps in the 60s with 80% humidity and passing clouds. Did I mention humidity at 80%? We took off at an easy pace on the trails of Hobbs State Park. I decided to go by effort, only looking at HR to make sure I wasn’t letting myself get too high. It was nice to have company and share in the beauty around us.

The dogwoods were in full bloom and looked like patches of snow between the greenery. Off the trail the ground cover was turning vibrant kelly green...lots of poison oak cropping up as well...my nemesis! We cruised down the first holler, sun peeping through trees and a nice breeze. We power hiked parts of steeper but relatively short climbs to stay comfortable. alternating sun/clouds above with few sprinkles here and there. As the sun rose, so did the temps and humidity. We hit around mi 7 or 8 and stopped to refill our water and I grabbed a few more gels and pocket fuel. I decided to try a solid...which usually goes over miserably. I ate about half of a payday. Some friends turned me on to these at an ultra event I crewed at. We took off down “the Bunny Ears”. These are 2 3 mi loops that have a slow shallow grade down to the lake and back up.  The first bunny ear went fine, by the second one though the heat was starting to zap us and our conversation pretty much fizzled out! The payday seemed to go down without issue and I was remaining aware of and drinking to thirst. I have found if I make sure to drink when I start to get a little thirsty I do very well on the hydration end. I alternated gels and pocket fuel (a almond butter/fruit blend) which kept me fueled well. We popped off the second bunny ear and topped off our water. I gobbled the other half of the payday and we were off...The next 5 miles to the visitor center would be cruising along.

We had a little brief 10 min shower and things steamed up. The second bunny ear slow steady climb up from the lake took a bit of a toll on me, but I backed off and was perking back up making our way to mi 18-19. We hit the visitor center, and stopped briefly to decide the next segment. James agreed to show me a new to me 8 mi trail called Pigeon’s Roost. He got me to the trail head and as we rolled in, a group of young guys asked if we would take their picture. I wasn’t paying attention when we hit the visitor center and didn’t realize until we got to Pigeon Roost that I was almost out of water. Not good when you have 10 miles to go. I agreed to take their picture in exchange for some water to get me through the next segment. They agreed it was a fair trade.

James and I parted ways and I headed solo down Pigeon Roost. This would be an 8 mile loop that takes you again down and around Beaver Lake. Within the first mile the skies became very dark and the winds picked up. I cruised down and started climbing back up and could feel the fatigue in my legs settle in. They were very heavy and my breathing a little harder trying to climb. I remembered to back off and keep it easy...well as easy as I can let myself keep it ;). The climbs were a shallow grade and very runnable so I did, just very very slowly up. Started to get a nice little downpour and some thunder. About 4 miles in to the loop I hit some low points, just tired feeling legs. I did my systems checks…”are you keeping this easy?”, “when was the last time you had calories?” “water?” Is there something you can do to help yourself feel better?  At this point I was just watching my feet, not looking ahead or scanning the trail…..then blammo! I saw it just as I was about to step on it...a timber rattler coiled up right in the middle of the trail.

Shit! I hurdled that sucker and just barely avoided stepping flat on him! I flew down the trail past hiim seeing every root and stick as a snake for about 50 meters. I must’ve been a sight, flailing, cursing, leaping, squeeling at roots and sticks! It gave me such a start! Just as soon as I settled down just slightly a HUGE thunderclap and lightening strike no more than a ¼ mi away. Sent me zooming and cursing again! Now I was mad and terrified! I wanted airlifted off the f’ing trail right then and there! I knew I was 3-4 miles from the trail head and there was no other idiot out there in the weather. After a small fit, I thought, “alright, alright….just do what you need to do.. pay attention to the trial, to the sky and be smart and get moving’. At that very moment I took a sip from my pack and heard that all to familiar sound of air and water. Out of water. Oh well. I knew I was 3-4 mi from the visitor center so this would just be an annoyance and not anything to worry much about. The little storm that cropped up in minutes dissolved just as quickly as it fired up and the sun was again peeking through clouds. The trail brought me down to the lake again.

I decided this might be a good time to get my legs in the water, wash off any poison oak oil and just recollect my nerves a bit. The water was beautifully clear and cold. I walked in shoes and all up to my knees and washed my face and rubbed my legs. “there, much better”, I thought. Back up the trail and hit the trail head and pavement. The trail on Pigeon Roost seemed particulary rocky so the ¼ mile of paved road felt like a nice little break. My feet and knees were getting a little achy. Hit the visitor center at 27-28 miles and filled up on water. Ate some pocket fuel and headed back down the trail for a short out and back to make 30 miles. I was thinking on those last couple miles, “I’m ready to be done, but honestly feel like I could go another 10-20-or more miles if I needed to, this is how I want to feel at 30 miles in a race”. At that point I knew I had nailed today’s run. I ran it just like I was supposed to. I was so pleased….and so freakin’ ready for some real food!

I am struggling a bit

 with speedwork. I have developed a little “track anxiety”. Speedwork is fun when it’s easy and you hit the times you want. That hasn’t happened for me lately, I have struggled a bit on the track and now I have some sheer anxiety at the thought of speedwork. I finally broke down and reached out to coach. He encouraged me to visualize my track workout for the next day. I couldn’t do it. I got still, I saw myself warming up, doing the speedups and getting ready to do the first 800meter speed interval. I tried to visualize the pace range on my watch and staying in that pace zone...then I would see myself falling under pace by the end of the first lap (as I have done before), feel the anxiety, tensing up, getting slower, chest getting tight, heart racing, pushing harder, feeling like I’m dying…..and then lose the visual and start thinking about other things. I couldn’t get through the full 800 in my head. I could only visualize what I had experienced, trying to change it, making the past experience different.

Further instruction from coach, “focus on running by TIME, not pace. This is very Important”. I had never done this. I had always just looked at pace, making sure I was staying in a certain pace range, ie 6:10-6:20 for 800m.  The anxiety went higher...I thought, “Shit, I’ve never done that before, I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to judge 800 meters in time...how do I make sure I hit 800m at 3:09? How do I know if I’m going too fast or not fast enough?” I didn’t trust that I could do it. I was now fairly terrified. And fairly mad that I was scared to run 800m..”of all the things to be afraid of...how stupid is that?!”. Then, coach says, “Flip your watch so you only see time..a stopwatch”.  We talked more about how to visualize this. Coach also said, “AND, where we need to go with this and for the races and future is to help you realize: To be your best, you must be willing to fail…”

Oh and then the damn dam broke! I got mad.  Out of nowhere I blurted out in the mirror in front of me “If I am harder on myself than anyone else then no one else can hurt me or blind side me. How do I let go of that?!”

I shocked even myself, Wha? Huh? Where the hell did that come from?! “ok Lori, you’ve done lost your mind”. My head swirling and coach still sending me emails..”ok I want you to see the 400 meter split time I gave you for the 800s, use the stop watch function and use this split to help you FEEL this effort…..’ He might as well have been speaking Japanese at this point...I was gone.

It became clear, I don’t want to do the speedwork, I don’t want to try to guage distance/time, I might fail. I want to be safe. But it wasn’t about speedwork, it was about life. If I am keeping myself safe, then I won’t get hurt. I am locking myself in this cage I’ve created so no one can hurt me...except me. It translates in my running…”If I am harder on myself than anyone else on the track, in my workouts…in life”  A wise friend told me, “The more you are willing to hurt, the more free you become!  Run free...live free!”.  To get what you really want...to reach for your cool impossible, you have to be willing to fail.

So back to visualization.  I tried again a few more times that evening to visualize the track workout. I could see the warmup as I had done many many times, I could see starting the first 800m and myself and how I felt and then I  could feel it getting difficult and I tried to change the outcome that I knew in my head was coming. I couldn’t CHANGE what I had experienced previously (missing the target time/pace) into what I WANTED to see.  Then I woke up trying to figure out why I couldn’t CHANGE my visualization...and it hit. Lori, you CANT change the past. Quit trying to take your past experience on the track, visualizing it,  trying to change it. Let go and CREATE what you want to see. And blammo! I did it!  I could visualize it! The whole damn thing! The times on my watch, the effort I wanted, all of it! When I let go of the past I could create what I wanted.  And it clicked...in life...let go of the past to create what you want.  Simple. You can’t change the past, converting it into something you want. Not possible, so quit trying Lori. Now, if that’s what it was all about….but nope… there’s more.

So now I get out on the track, still very very nervous, but in a much healthier sort of way. So here we go..20 min warm up...then a 400m at 1:34 to get pace and feel for what the 800 would be like. Then the first 800….I nailed it to the second! I hit the 400 mark right on cue and 800 mark. It was extremely difficult though and my legs were not spunky at all. I knew this is where the second part of the lesson may be coming in to play. On to 800m interval number 2. 200m in I am almost right on cue, but by 400 I was over 1:34. My legs were jello-y and my effort maxed. I could feel my pace fading and at 800 my time was over the goal by several seconds. I was ok though. I didn’t feel angry or frustrated. On to 800m number 3. Started out, by 400m I was over on time. My mantra, “focus” came in. I was focused on relaxed breathing, pushing my legs and my body as hard as I could without blowing up, focusing on making my form as efficient as possible, fast as possible. I was over again by several seconds. the 4th and 5th 800m intervals were similar.To get what you really want...you have to be willing to fail

The difference was that I was at peace throughout. Working to my best effort, best form, best mindset possible. I was willing to fail. After the second 800 interval I knew there was no way I was going to succeed at hitting the goal time, but the difference was, this time I was WILLING to fail. To reach as far and as hard as possible at that 3:09 800 meter target knowing I might...and likely would...fail. But if I didn’t reach like I was going to get it I would never know, So I reached with every 800 like I was going to get it.

Now I wish my thinking and my understanding of what is going on were all neat and in a nutshell and internal, but the reality is it’s not. I got a glimpse yesterday, and I write this to remind myself, so that it does becomes natural and internal. 

A friend sent this in an email the other day and I think it pretty well sums it up....

I've been working with Northeastern State University Army ROTC, doing a running clinic with them monthly since August. Today I had the opportunity to test out the obstacle course with them at Camp Gruber. Here are a few pics!

Eeeeaaaaallllllmooooost...  I did finally get it!  

This one was one of my favorite, over 1 bar, under the other...a challenge, especially as you got higher,...

The goal was to jump from the lower post and hit the upper post at the hips and flip over. I got it, but it wasn't pretty!

And who doesn't like playing in the sand?

All in all, it was a blast....Maybe an obstacle death race in my future?

Trail runner looked forward to her first spring run on the trails in Arkansas. As she stepped onto the trail she remembered the last time she was out there, snow on the ground, animal tracks everywhere to be found. Although a cold morning, spring was in the air and evident in the woods.  The redwood and dogwood blooming, green patches of grass rising up, pushing aside the leaves of winter. Trail runner is training for several extremely difficult and long trail runs this summer, and today she was to push hard on some hill repeats. Less than a ¼ mile into the forest she heard hawk’s loud call greeting her. “Ayeee!” she yelled back to greet him as well. Squirrels darted back and forth and the sun was dancing between the trees. The forest seemed happy to have company to share it’s splendor, showing off her new spring decor. Trail runner’s thoughts drifted to the hill repeats to come. She rounded the corner going down the ridge into the gap, and before she knew it she flew right over a rattlesnake~ utsa'nätï. “Whohoa!” she yelled as her feet instinctively lept over utsa'nätï. She stopped and turned around to look. She was now a safe enough distance that she felt comfortable observing him. “I remember you”, he said. Trail runner was a bit startled to understand utsa'nätï, as she had all but forgotten her last encounter with the animals of this particular forest and had almost let it slip into her memory as a dream.

Trail runner fumbled through her memory of the last trail run in this forest. It was an adventure indeed, complete with a race with deer and rabbit! But, she did not remember seeing utsa'nätï. “You ssssseeeee”, he said, “I heard how you helped deer that day, therefore I will not harm you today, I will help you”. Trail runner looked at utsa'nätï, and remembered that it is said that the deer and snake act as allies. When one is injured or harmed, the other will avenge the offender. In accordance, since trail runner showed compassion to deer during their race, helping him and providing him nourishment, snake determined that he would balance that with a gesture in kind today.

Utsa'nätï went on to teach trail runner a story that would help protect her in the future, as he knew she was bound to encounter other utsa'nätï on her adventures. He began, “One day long ago, Cherokee children were playing in the field when they stumbled upon utsa'nätï. The children screamed, drawing the attention of their mother. She saw the snake posed to strike at one of the children and she threw a rock at its head and killed it. Afterward she felt a pang of guilt for having to kill a living creature, but she felt she had no option. Her husband, hunting in the woods suddenly heard the rattling of many utsa'nätï nearby. He asked the crying snakes, “brother snakes, why do you cry?”. “Because our leader has been killed” they replied. “We are mourning and planning our revenge”. The brave offered to help, He told them, “If there is something I can do, I will do it,” he promised.  “Be sure you mean what you say”, said one of the utsa'nätï. “For you may regret your promise once you know what happened.” “My word stands firm”. “Ask and it is yours.”  The utsa'nätï swarmed together determining how to avenge their leaders killing. They returned to the brave and said, “It is your wife that killed our leader. To make things right again, she must be sacrificed.” The brave fell to the ground and cried. The utsa'nätï assumed he would go back on his word and started toward the village. The brave asked, “Where are you going?”. “To exact our revenge,” the newly appointed leader said.  “My promise is my bond,” the brave insisted. “Just tell me what you want me to do”. “When you return home, tell your wife you want fresh water from the well,” explained utsa'nätï. “I will be there to bite her, but I promise her death will be swift.” “As you will,” said the brave. Once there he did exactly as he had promised; asking his wife for fresh water from the well. His heart broke when her heard her cry as the snake struck her foot. The brave went to the well and held his lifeless wife in his arms. “It is done!” he told utsa'nätï. “Balance has been restored once more.” “you are a man of your word,” said utsa'nätï. “As such, your people shall always be protected by our clan. I will teach you our song. Teach it to your people. Then, should our clans ever again encounter each other, by singing this song we will know that you are friends and not strike out to kill you.”  

Trail runner listened intently and after absorbing all that she heard, she spoke, “I was not aware of this bond, I am Cherokee, but was not raised traditionally and do not know this song”. Utsa'nätï replied, “I know, but because of your kindness to deer, I will teach you”. He taught her the song she now carries in her heart, grateful to utsa'nätï for the kindness he showed her. She would not forget the story, the song, or utsa'nätï’s kindness shown her that day.

-Thank you Charlotte Kunchinsky, author, columnist and poet for the above reiteration of the story of the Cherokee learned the snake song.

I am Cherokee, not raised traditionally and not fullblood, I am learning my heritage. I am very proud of my Cherokee history and ancestors. These stories give me a way to explore my own heritage and give me a creative outlet. It also gives me something to do as I run many many many miles solo on those trails in training and racing. I thank my “traditional” family and friends who are patient with me and teach me much.

Since December we’ve been focusing on training, intentionally avoiding racing early so I can be as ready as possible for my Cool Impossible, the US Skyrunning Series - Ultra. This was my first opportunity to hit the trails racing. I entered the 25k distance so I wouldn’t need much if any recovery following the race and be able to jump right back into training. It was somewhat of a last minute decision to enter this and we didn’t intend to change my training plan for it. The week leading up to this one ended up being topsy-turvy with a cold virus for me and then a sick husband, complete with emergency room party and overnight stay!! As crazy as the week was, I just kinda went with the flow, ran when I could, and did what my body and life would allow. It could’ve been disastrous, but I ended up feeling pretty primed for a race. I think I was also ready to let loose some pent up energy!  By Friday my cold was resolving, husband not only home from the hospital, but ready to run his own race, and kiddos excited to be at the lake helping the race director and the aid stations.

Got out to the race start, located on a trail system around Lake McMurtry. Good to see friend and race director Ken Childress, with Tulsa Area Trail and Ultra Runners (TATUR), his wife Dana, and many friends I don’t get to see except at these kind of events. The kids would be volunteering at the start/finish, so we got them hooked up and I took off for m

y warm up. I usually sneak off by myself, giving me a chance to relax and get a feel for things. I pondered my coach’s last words before my race. We had talked back and forth about awareness, finding that line in racing of not going out to hard, but not being too conservative either. He told me, “And if you battle Walter every minute, you will not go out too hard - contemplate that one”. Awe Hell.  I didn’t get what he meant. As I was warming up I was trying to figure it out.. Does he mean I should battle Walter the whole way?  That doesn't sound fun. Hmm...if I am battling Walter I won’t go out too fast. Will I let Walter hold me back? I dunno. I shook my head and made my way to the start.

Friends immediately pulled me to the front and teased about following me. This is the part that makes me most uncomfortable. I have done extremely well at local races and I get a fair amount of teasing/compliments. It’s flattering, but hard not to convert that to pressure. I felt more comfortable though, not pressured, confident in my ability to perform, but not expecting anything. That used to really stress me out (it still does if I choose to let it), and I see how it stresses other runners, even keeps them from racing. Expectations, expectations I thought others had...expectations I had or thought I should have. But, finally, I am learning... WHO CARES?!! Really, who cares where I finish? Nobody’s life depends on it, I’m not going to be the hot topic of anyones conversation if I come in 2nd or 5th or 35th. Yes, I want to finish first and I am going to race as smart and competitively as I can, but

 I am not going to let that desire be destructive. Now, I will say that is easy for me to say and hard for me to practice myself, but I’m getting it. Racing in other states has helped too. Coming in first and coming in 671st are both good teachers! Coming in at the front of the pack, strong and confident, feeling great, and coming in just under the cut off, wheels off, gaskets blown...after training your ass off for months for that ONE race...gives you perspective.

Oh sheesh, look at me, got all off down a rabbit trail! So, my goal for this race was to run smart but still “go for it”. To find that sweet spot. The race director yelled go! There were about 7 or 8 guys in front of me and I ran out with friend Jenny. She stayed with me for the first half mile or so on trail and then as I warmed up I sped up. For the first 2 miles I played back and forth a bit with a couple of guys and then found myself alone, the lead pack out of sight and the rest behind.  All by myself I thought….as usual, here I am, aaallll by myself, ...waa! That lasted about 3 seconds before the views and the trail caught my attention.

The trail was mildly technical single track windy trail with short up and downs. Some pretty views of the lake to the right. Then came….The Leep o Doom!  Ha, Its a break in the trail, between two large boulders, and about 24 inches across. A short jump, but miss it and the penalty is severe...many feet down between the boulders. Next up, field running...very narrow deer trail through a knee high grassy field. With the sun rising over the lake, this was a really peaceful section. I was solo and feeling fast and free.

I look at my watch and Walter speaks up…”You aren’t running as fast as you’d 

hoped”. “It feels a little hard, doesn’t it?  Harder than is should?” I 

started to tell Walter, “No, it doesn’t” and push past, fight,  or ignore Walter. Then I thought for a second, “If I am battling Walter…” The sun in my face, the grass hitting my legs, the lake in front of me...I backed off...and Walter smiled, nodded his head and disappeared. 

Back on to single track mildly technical trail. I was running at a moderate effort, watching my heart rate. My goal was to run the first ¼-½ of the race in heart rate zone 4a-4b, not letting myself race in 5a until close to or after the halfway mark if I felt I could. I could feel it...I was in zone 4b early, but could always tell when i’d drift up into 5a.  I knew the effort I felt when I got there was too high to sustain likely, so I would bring it down just under 5a. It was also going to be the first really warm day in Oklahoma. We have flirted with temps up in the low 70s some, but today it would get to over 80 with sunny skies.  This took it’s toll on many, especially the 50k ers. No course records broken today. I made sure at every aid station to dump water on top of my head and down my back. I absolutely hate the heat and tend to turn into a whiny blob when I get uncomfortably hot. At mi 6-7 I started to let myself get into 5a if it felt good and it did some. I just kept featuring this line, below and I wasn't racing, too far above and I knew I wouldn’t be able to maintain, and likely drag my ass across the finish..

I was feeling really good around mi 7-11, really happy that 4b-low 5a was feeling not too uncomfortable and strong. I was making sure I was hydrating and fueling well. I drank water from my handheld and took in a gel every 20-30 or so minutes, and eventually some cola toward the end of the race. I sipped consistently from my handheld of water and never felt bonky. Miles 11-15 were harder and more uncomfortable.  I didn’t feel as strong, but strong enough to push. I liked this sense. Usually at this point  I am not able to push, I am too uncomfortable bordering on miserable. Not today. I had controlled myself well early and had gas in the tank.  There was no dragging.. Around mi 12, I encountered a copperhead...poisonous sneaky snake. Fortunately, I was alerted by other runners or it would’ve been an even closer encounter! Those suckers are so hard to see, they match the dirt and leaves perfectly. Welcome to spring/summer trail running in Oklahoma. That did perk me up a bit! I was able to run it in to the finish feeling strong and appropriately spent. I finished first female and seventh overall. I had promised my daughter I would eat one of her aid station creations and here it is. It was sooooo hard for me to choke that down! Just looking at cookies or m&ms on a aid station table is often enough to turn my stomach upside down. I got it down...and kept it down as she proudly watched! Blech! My son on the other hand had decided to plant himself in a cedar tree at the finish line….a choice he would soon regret as he itched, scratched, and sneezed the whole way home!

Have to share my new favorite place to run. It sucks actually...in a really awesome way! I've posted a few pics in the past. It's the World's Highest Hill, Poteau Oklahoma. I have a good friend who lives at the base of Cavanall hill. He has etched trails all over the hill.

Some are brutally steep and technical. I usually start in Josh's back yard. There is also a paved road that climbs 5 miles from the base to the top. Yesterday I took the lateral trails, rolling trails that run back and forth near the base for about 45 minutes before taking the very steep and very technical 1 mile trail climb, with a whopping 1 switchback to the road. This one mile climb, it is sorta...kinda..not really runnable?! Josh can run it, I can run it...very slowly and with high heart rate with a huge hand-on-knees recovery as soon as I hit the pavement.

Then the next 2-3 ish miles are up the paved road to the top.  It's hard to look up when running this section as it is kinda defeating to see what lies ahead at times. with about 1/2-1mile left to go you see this...Josh's contribution...there should be another painted phrase just up from that that says, "dig deeper!"

It is so steep right here and after 4 miles of climbing one of the toughest spots.  You top out and the wind is usually pretty wild.  Here is where I usually take a breather and eat some pocket fuel...here is where I feel like I can actually eat solid food, and it's a nice treat for the effort. Next I like to hit the powerline instead of going back down the road. There's more trails off the powerline that I can access. It is a wicked little powerline though...very steep, sandy, rutted out, slickery fun in a scary sorta way. I typically move very slowly down this sucker. About a half mile down I cut over onto more rolling trail to recover and hit another really wicked..no switchback, technical straight up trail back to the top.

Then it's 3 miles down the pavement back to ole Joshes etched out 1 mile technical descent to his back yard....which has a swimming pool I hope will be opening soon!! Sunday's run was to be easier effort and it was nice to slow down and grab some awesome pics, spring has sprung in Oklahoma! 

Pics of ultrarunners from the Prairie Spirit 100 and 50mi ultra this weekend.  Such an amazing day and change, with amazing people, well, family really. Saw true grit, shameless whining;), and the true spirit of humanity. You cannot look in the eyes of an ultrarunner during a race and not see amazing depth of character and emotion, you can truly see their soul, and it is always beautiful and humbling.

Speedwork and brainwork today! track work with 2x400 and 4x1000 at near max effort...well, I was hoping they'd be more "near" max effort as opposed to just plain "max effort!".

 Speedwork runs/track runs are always my favorite and most nerve wracking runs. I absolutely love the challenge, but I tend to get very nervous about them and worry worry worry, before AND during. I'm working on that though and am making brain progress, which I hope will enhance speed progress. Intentional or not, I knew coach was taking me to an uncomfortable place today to do some work.  Instead of fearing it (well a little healthy fear), I looked at it as an opportunity to build and construct. I would be going into a "disaster zone"...that place where effort/pace feels like you are dying, not sure if you can keep it up, fearing failing and just falling completely off pace or quitting before the interval is over feel. This was where I was  going to be working today. I wanted to work on my brain here... in that place... and I did. 

The 15min warm-up always seems forever as I anticipate the intervals, so I just relaxed, told myself to enjoy warming up, no need to get my hr up immediately, it would rise plenty later. I gradually worked up to zone 3. Next, increasing speed over a couple minutes or so and a 400m at a little under what the speed intervals would be. Took a minute to regroup and off for my first 400m. First felt pretty decent, had to back off to keep from going too fast on both. 

Next up...the 100

0m intervals. "Ok brain" I thought. I pulled out my mantras "just go for it" which allows me to let go and clear my mind and relax. The first lap went smoothly, second lap was feeling pretty tough, but hanging in there, the last half lap was intense but no need to add any mantras.  Nice rest after that one. Second 1000m the first lap didn't feel quite as good and by the mid-end of the second lap my pace was faltering..Here came the worry, "i'm n

ot going to hold it"...then I reminded myself, "who cares?!", "just go for it". I relaxed again and pushed.  I was at max effort the last 200-400 of that one for sure despite a slower pace. Hands on knees after and a short walk before resuming a slow jog for the completion of the rest interval.

3rd 1000: A little worry eeking in, Hello Walter! "You didn't hold the pace on the last one...how much slower are you going to go on this one?" "Are you just going to fall apart and quit?". I looked at Walter, "w

ho cares?!" and "just go for it"-that felt good. Walter disappeared and I took off, but I was holding back a little worrying about what I should do to not blow up "what effort can I maintain for the next __ meters? I was thinking about the

 next 400, 800 meters, I was not in the moment. I was worried about the future (albeit short future!). Finished that one a little slower than the last. 

#4: This one I

 spent trying to figure out what I could maintain for the full 1000. Again, I was letting fear hold me back a bit. I didn't want to blow and quit. I was working this puzzle, but it wasn't working, it didn't feel right. This ended up being my slowest interval.  Ok Ok I thought, what does my brain need to do.  I'm missing something, I know it, I just don't know what it is.

#5: Again started out thinking, holding back a bit trying to figure how the next 400, 800 meters was going to play out and then it hit me. "run in the moment". Aha! Don't worry about the next 400m. Don't worry about blowing up. Run in the moment, moment by moment, don't worry about the next moment. And blammo, I felt it. The puzzle piece fit and I ran in the moment. With that slight shift in thinking my pace came back down being the 2nd fastest interval. Now, the only interval I stayed on my goal pace was the first.  All 4 of the following intervals were over. But the coooolest thing is, I'm not disappointed. Last year or even 3 months ago I would have been beating myself up about it. Not today. I hit the construction site and worked. And worked well. I gave it my best physically and mentally and made progress on the construction of an ultrarunner.

4 x 7 min speed intervals today.

Nervous as always before speed work..At first glance the pace looked not too shabby to hold, but then, "what if you can't you hold that pace?" "you held a faster pace with these same intervals last year what if they are too hard, what does that mean about you?", Hello Walter! Of course I didn't recognize those thoughts yet, they were still more feelings squeezing around my chest as I started the first interval. "this does seem harder than you thought it would" and then I recognized it. Hello Walter! And then I thought, "here Walter, you can have those questions, you worry about it...I'm just gonna go for it!" so "just go for it!" became my mantra and I didn't worry about anything else. It didn't matter. The "hard" didn't frighten me, It didn't mean anything. It felt great to just "go for it!"